Ex Libris TborplbiirslF. V ^/^W ^ A, ^- l HISTOEICAL INTEODUCTION TRANSITION PERIOD. Htl&H 0' IJEALE, EARL OF TYRONE. THE IRISH NATION: ITS HISTORY AND ITS BIOGRAPHY. BY JAMES WILLS D.D.. AND FREEMAN WILLS, M.A. VOLUME L A. FULLARTON & CO., LONDON AND EDINBURGH. 1 BOSTON COLLEGK LiniiARY nH H'STV'TTT' UTTT .. . .,. PUBLISHERS' PREFACE. The work now presented to the public in its complete form has been designed as a History of Ireland, illustrated by the actors in that history. The idea has been to arrest the reader's atten- tion by the interest that attaches to personal narrative, rather than fatigue it by the story of the nation as a whole, embodying complicated details less easily remembered than when connected with the biographies of eminent individuals. It would, indeed, be very difficult to produce a comprehensive history of this nation on any other plan; both on account of its complication with that of Great Britain, and because it can scarcely be said that Ireland as a whole has had a connected his- tory; for its people have but seldom appeared in any combined form, whether of attitude or action. There is nothing like material for any coherent story of its rise and progress previous to the reign of the English Henry II. Afterwards we have but the records of piecemeal conquest, reducing the island to a dependency of the English Crown on the one hand, and to a growing colony on the other. In the time of the Stuarts, its action became a theme for history; but its second subjugation, more complete than the first, and its occupation ever since by two different and even hos- tile races, have made it a puzzle for the politician and a mere medley for the historian. We hope, however, that through the present biographical sketches the reader may obtain a fair insight into what has been the moral and political condition of the country from age to age in times gone by. By bringing our notices down to the present time, we have sought likewise to give the reader some acquaintance with the IMJ PREFACE. eminent Irishmen now living; few of them comparatively in their native land, and embodying its history in their lives ; hut here and there dispersed through the countries, preserving their national characteristics, and influencing, whether for good or evil, the communities among which their lot is cast. With respect to these, we regret that the necessity of keeping the work within its predetermined limits has demanded much cur- tailment, and the omission of interesting matter. This is, how- ever, less to be regretted, as the time has not come for doing justice to the living ; and where facts are few and bare, the author has in many cases been able to refer the reader to fuller sources of information. CONTENTS OF VOL. I. DIVISION FIRST-EARLY. Page Page Historical Introduction, . 3 — 96 THE DE BURGOS. 28. William Fitz-Adelm, . . 256 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS. 29. Richard de Burgo, . . 257 1. Pelagius, .... 97 30. Walter de Burgo, . .260 2. St. Patrick, . . . .104 31. Richard de Burgo, . . 260 8. Columbkil], . . . .117 32. Edmund de Burgo, . . 261 4. St. Columbanus, . . . 128 33. William de Burgo, Earl of Ulster, 26 1 5. Bridget, . . . .132 34. Ulick de Burgh, First Earl of 6. Scotus-Erigena, . . .135 Clanricarde, . . .263 35. Richard, Second Earl of Clan- MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION. ricarde 263 7. Turgesius, . . . .139 8. The Monarch O'Melaghlin, . 143 THE O'BRIENS OF THOMOND. 9. Aodh Fiiiliath, . . .147 36. Donald O'Brien, Prince of Tho- 10. Cormac, King of Cashel, . 148 niond, . . . .264 11. Anlaf, Khig of Dublin, . 151 37. Murtough O'Brien, . . 265 12. Bryau Boru, . . .155 38. Murrough O'Brien, First Earl of 13. Malachy, . . . .170 Thomond, . . . 265 14. Donchad O'Brien, . . 174 THE EARLY BUTLERS OF ORMONDE, 268 THE CONQUESr. 39. James, Fourth Earl of Ormonde, 270 15. Derinod Macmurrough, . 177 40. James, Fifth Eari, . . 278 THE INVADERS. 41. Sir James Ormonde, . . 279 16. Earl Strongbow, . . 196 42. Richard, Earl Marshall, . 281 17. Hugh de Lacy, . . .208 18. Maurice Fitz-Gerald, . . 210 FHE FITZGERALDS. — FIRST SERIES. 19. Robert Fitz-Stephcn, . . 212 1. THE HOUSE OP KILDARK. 20. Raymond le Gros, . . 213 43. Maurice Fitzgerald, . . 286 21. De Courcy, .... 218 44. Earl of Kildare, . . . 288 22. Sir Armoric de St. Lawrence, 231 45. Second Earl of Kildare, . 292 23. Giraldus Cambrensis, . . 233 46. Maurice, Fourth Earl of Kildare, 292 47. Thomas, Seventh Earl of Kil- THE O'CONNORS OF CONNAUGHT. dare, . . . .296 24. Roderic O'Connor, . . 238 48. Gerald, Eighth Earl of Kildare, 297 25. Cathal O'Connor, . . 247 26. Feidlim O'Connor, Prince of 2. THE HOUSE OF DESMOND. Connaught, . . . 252 49. Maurice, First Earl of Desmond, 311 27. Second Feidlim O'Connor, . 254 1 50. Gerald. Fourth Earl of Desmond, 317 iv CONTENTS. Page Page 51. Thonaas, Sixth Earl of Desmond, 317 78. Thomas, Tenth Earl of Or- 52. James, Seventh Earl of Desmond, 319 monde, . . . .481 53. Thomas, Eighth Earl of Des- mond, .... 320 MISCELLANEOUS. 54. Maurice, Tenth Earl of Des- mond, .... 322 THE O'DONELLS OF TYRCONNEL. 79. Daniel O'SuUivan Beare, . 486 80. Florence M'Carthy, . . 498 81. Cormack M'Carthy, Lord of IMuskerry, . . . 502 55. Donald O'Donell, chief of Tyr- connel, .... 323 82. Sir George Carew, . . 504 83. Feagh Machugh O'Byrne, . 507 56. 57. Hugh Roe O'Donell, . . 324 Hugh Roe O'Donell, last Chief of Tyrconnell, . . .324 MISCELLANEOUS. THE LAST OF THE o'nIALLS OF TIR OWEN. 84. Hugh O'Neale, Earl of Tyrone, 511 MISCELLANEOUS. 58. Sir Robert Savage, . . 348 85. Thomas, Sixteenth Earl of 59. 60. 61. Sir John Bermingham, Arnold de la Poer, Art M'Murrough, 352 358 360 Kerry, . . . .570 86. Robert, Fifth Lord Trimleston, 572 87. James Fitz-Maurice, . . 572 62. Sir William Brabazon, 364 POSTSCRIPT, . . . 573 63. Bernard Fitz-Patriclc, . 365 64. Sir Anthony St. Leger, 367 CLERICAL 4ND LITERARY. THE O'nIALLS of TIR OWEN. INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 579 65. Hugh O'Niall of Tir Owen, . 371 1. ECCLESIASTICAL AND POLITICAL 66. Con O'NiaU, First Earl of Tyrone, . . . .373 88. Lawrence O'Toole, . . 583 89. Malachy, Archbishop of Ar- 67. John O'Neale, . . .379 magh, . . . .590 90. Gregory, First Archbishop of THE FITZGERALDS —SECOND SEEIES. Dublin, .... 590 91. John Comyn, . . .591 1. THE HOUSE OF KILDARE. 92. Henry de Loundi-es, . . 594 68. Gerald, Ninth Earl of Kildare, 389 93. Fulk de Saundford, . . 596 69. Lord Thomas Fitzgerald, . 403 94. Richard de Ferings, . . 598 70. Gerald, Tenth Earl of Kildare, 4] 6 2. THE HOUSE OF DESMOND. 95. Alexander de Bicknor, . 598 96. Thomas Cranely, . . 601 97. Richard Talbot, . .601 71. James, Eleventh Earl of Des- mond, .... 421 98. George Brown, Archbishop of Dublin 603 72. James, Fifteenth Earl of Des- mond, .... 422 99. Hugh Curwin, Archbishop of Dublin, . . . .622 73. Gerald, Sixteenth Earl of Des- mond, .... 423 100. Adam Loftus, Archbishop of Dublin, .... 622 74. James, the Sugan Earl of Des- mond, .... 452 101. John Bale, Bishop of Ossorj', 626 102. George Dowdal, Archbishop of Armagh, . . . 628 THE BUTLERS OF ORMONDE. — SECOND 103. John Allen, Archbishop of SERIES. Dublin, . . . .629 75. 76. John, Sixth Earl of Ormonde, 475 Piere, Eighth Earl of Ormonde, 476 II. CLERICAL AND LITERARY. 77. James, Ninth Earl of Ormonde, 479 104. Robert de Wikeford, . 631 CONTENTS. 105. Robert Waldby, 106. Walter Fitz-Simons, . 107. John Halifax, . 108. John Duus Scotus, III. LITERARY. Comirilcrs and Writers in the Language. Mai Suthain O'Carroll, Mac Liag, Erard Mac Coisi, Cuan O'Lochain, Dubdalethy, GioUa Caoimhghin, Tigernach, Gillactrist Ua Maeileoin, Tanaidhe O'Mulconaire, Giolla Modlmda O'Cassidy GioUa O'Dunn, . Maurice O'Eegan, Marian O'Gorman, Conor O'Kelly, . Giolla Tosa Roe O'Reilly, . John O'Dugan, . Mahon O'lleilly, Magnus O'Duignan, . Page 631 632 633 639 Irish 647 647 648 648 648 648 649 649 649 650 650 650 651 651 651 651 652 652 Donogh Ban O'Maelconaire Angustin Magradian, Maurice O'Daly, Peter, Thomas Hibernicus, Gotofrid, Malachy Mac Aedha, Angus Roe O'Daly, Mac Coinmhide, Giolla-na-Naomh O'Huidriu, Faelan Mac a Gobhan Donogh O'Bolgaidh, Cathald Mac Magnus, Manns, Teige Mor O'Coffey, Donald Mac Carthy, John O'Maelconaire, Roderick M'Craith, Dubhthach O'Duigenan Page 654 654 654 654 654 655 657 657 657 657 657 658 658 659 659 659 659 659 659 THE MAC FIRBIS FAMILY. — Duald Mac Firbis, . . . 660 109. Edmund Spenser, 110. Richard Stanihurst, 111. Sir James Ware, 665 680 682 LIST OF PLATES. VOLUME I. O'Neale, Hugh, Earl of Tyrone, ... To face title Ancient Irish Families — Fitzgerald, Plate I., . To face page 285 ,, „ Fitzgerald, Plate IL, . „ 311 „ „ FiTZMAURiCE, Plate III., . ,, 570 ., „ Le Botiler (or Butler), Plate IV., „ 268 ,, „ O'Niall, or O'Neill, Plate A, „ 371 VOLUME II. BoTLE, Eichard, First Earl of Cork, . Boyle, The Honourable Robert, Butler, James, Duke of Ormonde, Taylor, Jeremy, D.D., .... Usher, James, D.D., .... VOLUME III Wellington, Duke of, . . Burke, Edmund, .... Bushe, The Right Honourable Charles Kendal, Canning, George, Castlereagh, Lord, (Marqiiis of Londonderry), . Charlemont, Earl of, . Curran, Right Honourable John Philpot, Fitzgibbon, Lord, Gillespie, Sir Robert Rollo, K.C.B., . Grattan, Right Honourable Henry, . Kilwarden, Arthur Wolfe, Lord Viscount, Sheridan, Richard Brinsley, . Wellesley, Richard, Marquis, VOLUME IV. Moore, Thomas, . Berkeley, George, D.D., Clarke, Adam, LL.D., Goldsmith, Oliver, Sloane, Sir Hans, M.D., Steele, Sir Richard, Swift, Jonathan, D.D., . To face title . To ftice page 661 158 569 486 To face title . To face page 202 443 )) 316 306 395 252 367 374 » 402 To face title To face page 337 )» 438 )) 572 » 644 » 259 » 219 THE IRISH NATION. EAELY. HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. CHAPTER I. General Reasons for the Credibility of ancient Irish History— Inferences from Languages — From ancient Authority — From Monuments — Ancient state of Civilization — First Kings. Many causes, of various degrees of importance, have contributed to render the history of Ireland difficult to the historian, and unpopular lunongst the generality of readers. The remoteness and indistinct- ness of its beginnings — the legendary character of its traditions — the meagre and broken state of its more authentic annals — have not, as in other modern countries, been remedied or counteracted by the industry of the historian. The disputes of antiquaries, the extrava- gant theories of some, the equally absurd scepticism of others, and the differences of opinion amongst all, have only produced the natural effect — in causing a strong reluctance to seek information on a ground in which few seemed to agree. As the nature of our undertaking-, which comprises the long and varied range of all that has any preten- sion to be regarded as authentic in Irish biography, imposes the neces- sity of commencing our labours in a period over which the lapse of ages has thrown much doubt, and not a little indistinctness, we can- not better preface the first division of this work, than by the endeavour to satisfy our readers of the probability of the general truth of the ancient history of Ireland. The history of Ireland is marked by peculiarities which do not affect that of any other country. It comprises the remotest extremes of the social state; and sets at nought the ordinary laws of social transition and progress, during the long intervals between them. Operated on by a succession of external shocks, the internal advances, which form some part of all other history, have been wanting; and her broken and interrupted career, presents a dream-like succes- sion of capricious and seemingly unconnected changes, without order or progress. But let scepticism make all reasonable deductions on the score of doubtful record or perplexed chronology, and refine away all that is not too ponderous for its partial and one-sided grasp — 'jjcre a tradition, and tliere a bi'oken monument — still the country 4 EARLY. retains, indelibly stamped and widely abounding, characters which cannot be explained according to the simplest rules of right reason, l)ut by referring them to the remotest ages of antiquity. The imme- morial monuments — the ancient superstitions — the traditions descended from the common antiquity of the oldest races of mankind — the living customs, and names of things and places traceable to these alone — the ancient language — the very population — are actual remains of a state of things, which they as clearly represent, as the broad foundations, the massive pillars, and the gigantic arches of some wide-spread ruin attest the size and ancient proportions of the stately city of old time. To what precise point, in the scale of chronology, such indications are to be referred, we must leave to professional antiquaries to settle : our object is but to combat the vulgar prejudice against our ancient his- tory, and the common errors which have caused it. It is our wish to refer the intelligent reader, from the detached questions on which the subject has been inadequately brought before him, to the more just and comprehensive result of its collective evidence. The investigation of each separate class of ancient remains, may lead to a vast variety of specious inferences ; but the true probability, for the interpretation of each part, must be derived from its relation to the whole. When every single relic of our antiquity shall have been explained into something of more modern growth — probable conjecture will still con- tinue to restore it to the massive combination of antiquities from which it is forced only for the moment of some fashionable creed, which gains popularity from the splendid caprices of talent. There is indeed no cause which has more contributed to the popularity of scepticism, than the real and imagined extravagance of antiquarian theories: when a large demand is made upon our faith, any attempt to lighten the exaction will be hailed with cordiality. Among the popular impressions, unfavourable to the claim of our ancient history, the most prominent is due to the marked and clinging barbarism, which is the most characteristic feature of our middle ages. It seems difficult for incredulity to admit, that a race which, from the earliest period of the modern world — from the Danish settle- ments to the very date of our immediate ancestors in the beginning of the last century — seems to have preserved the characters of national infancy, can possibly have the claims to a mature antiquity, which antiquaries, however their creeds may differ, agree in affirming. The fact is worth inquiry. Many of the causes of this anomalous combination of extremes lie on the surface. The fate of Ireland has been peculiar in this : that the same cause which partly contributed to her early civilization, was, in after times, the means of retarding her progress. We mean the circumstance of geographical position: more within the track of the Tyrian sail, than of the Roman eagle, the same position which exposed her shores to the approach of ancient commerce, must, to some extent, have isolated this country from the sweeping and onward mutations of the rest of the world. The chances which, in earliest time, may have wafted to our coast such civilization as then existed, as they are beyond inquiry, so they are not worth it: they are but a very obvious part of the course nf things, and cannot reasonably be the groinid of objection or doubt: HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. so far, it is enough that such things were. Assuming that this isianri was peopled at an early period, it will nearly follow, that the first rudiments of social civilization must have been imported by any people who were then likely to find her shores : for the barbarism of after ages sprung on or from the ruins of anterior civilization. The next step is far more easy. While the neighbouring islands, in common with the nations of Europe, were repeatedly swept over by various races and hordes of either invaders or settlers — who desolated or usurped every country in proportion as it lay nearer the main line of social change, and thus involving every other land in the perpetual surge and eddy of this great human tide, brought on the barbarism obviously consequent on continued change and confusion — Ireland, comparatively sequestered from the inroads of change, long continued to maintain and cultivate the primitive arts and knowledge (whatever these were) transmitted by the parent country. To her peaceful shore the laws and religion, manners and customs, of some nation of antiquity, were brought; and when the neighbouring shores became the scenes of revolution and disorder, the same peaceful refuge received the kindred remains of many an ancient creed and family. Such literature as then existed, would probably soon begin to find its quiet centre, in the sequestered island ; and, as the tumult of change began to settle among the neighbouring people, again to send fox^th on every side the light (such as it was) thus preserved. In all this there is nothing that is not an easy consequence from the whole known history of the ancient world. A theoretical consequence, we grant; but it loses this ques- tionable character the moment we look on the facts of history, the memorials of tradition, and the monuments of the land. The very same fundamental fact will, by the same simple reasoning, account for the other phenomena which we have stated as opposed to this view. The same sequestered position which preserved the form and structure of early ages from the desolating current of univer- sal change, that for some ages continued to bear away the broken ruins of antiquity in every other land; had, in the course of time, by the same means, the effect of shutting out those succeeding changes which were the steps of a new order of things. And while the sur- rounding nations brightened, by slow degrees, into the spring of a new civilization — which, in point of fact, was but a step of human pro- gress — the civilization of eider times became itself but a barbaric monument of earlier ages. In Ireland, it is true, the history of succes- sive invasions may, on a slight view, be referred to as opposed to this opinion. But it is not by such visitations that the modern civilization of nations has grown ; but from the combination of a variety of com- mon causes, all of them implying the continued and diffused action of change. A few adventurers might, with the advantag-e of inconsider- able resources, effect a settlement; but they cannot, under such cir- cumstances, be imagined to have imported or communicated a compre- hensive change of manners, religion, and laws. They could not even be said to represent their country's manners and learning; they could not be supposed to obtain the necessary influence, or even the neces- sary intercourse, with the natives; and though it might be anticipated that, in the course of a long period, their maimers and customs would 6 p]ARLY. be found to modify the national habits; yet, before this could happen, their descendants would have largely contracted the character of the native population. The changes of European society, which together have contributed to form its modern state, were the numerous and successive shocks of war, invasion, subjugation, and the mingling minds, manners, and opinions of a hundred races, whirled together in the wide-extended and long-continued eddies of European change ; and their quantum of effect on any nation must have, in a great measure, depended on the freedom and constancy of its intercourse with all the rest. The inter- course of Europe with Ireland was very peculiar, and is likely to be overrated by those who have viewed it only with reference to church antiquity. But it was not an intercourse commonly productive of ex- tensive change. It was such an intercourse as may be held with a college or a church. The learned came to imbibe the scanty and erroneous knowledge; and the religious, the doctrinal tenets of their age. The sacred repository of ancient opinion was venerated as the fountain-head of sacred knowledge, until it became its tomb. But then, it was long left behind in the progress of nations, and lapsed into an obscurity bordering on oblivion. Such are the conditions of the strange problem, about the opposite tei-ms of which learned men have consumed much ink, and unlearned shrewdness much misplaced ridicule. The impressions, from many causes, unfavourable to the fair recep- tion of Irish antiquity, have been much aggravated by the unwarranta- ble omissions of some of our ablest historians. The observations of Dr Johnson, in his letter to Charles O'Connor, are worth repeating:. — " Dr Leland begins his history too late : the ages which deserve an exact inquiry, are those times (for such there were) when Ireland was the school of the West, the quiet habitation of sanctity and literature. If you could give a history, though imperfect, of the Irish nation, from its conversion to Christianity to the invasion from England, you would amplify knowledge with new views and new objects. Set about it therefore if you can: do what you can easily do without anxious exact- ness. Lay the foundation, and leave the superstructure to posterity."* The antiquity of Ireland offers the most singular and instructive study not merely to the systematizing antiquary, but to the general philoso- pher and historian, who takes it up for the strong light it reflects oi> the common antiquity of nations. The limited object of this work will not permit of our discussing, at large, the vast and curious field of authority on this important subject. Still less can we afford space for the volumes of ingenious conflicting speculations, which have found a fertile field of excursion in the obscurity of ancient monuments. Our concern with the subject has a limited purpose. The first per.sons with whom we are obliged to make our readers acquainted, stand far back within the shadow of antiquity; nor can we speak of them, without drawing much of our matter from the history of a state of the country, which may carry with it something more of the air of fabulous anti- quity, than a large proportion of our readers may think consistent with * Bofewell's Joliriion. HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. the sober simplicity, which we should willingly infuse throughout oui- pages, as the appropriate expression of historic truth. Much of the very common tone of scepticism which is manifested on the subject of Irish antiquity, is founded on that confined scope of mind, which is the general cause of scepticism in whatever form it appears. Some are involved in the difficulties which attend on partial views, and some are only diflicult to convince, because they apply to the subject of Irish antiquity, a method of estimation which must equally reject all ancient history. The best resource against either of these errors, is, perhaps, to look attentively on the sum of evidence aris- ing from the combined view of all the monuments and records of the past, to the careful exclusion of every system. The question will then stand thus : Whether there are or are not evidences of different kinds, by which the history of Ireland and its inhabitants can be traced back to a remote period, antecedent to any which belongs to the history of modern European nations? Such a question • must, of course, involve in its detail all the special inquiries into the authenticity, or the im- port, of each special record or alleged monument ; but when the whole isjiist laid together in one comprehensive view, much of the difficulty and complication attendant on such inquiries is likely to disappear. For the value and import of each allegation must undergo some mo- dification from the connexion it may be found to have with a system of facts and evidences. The evidence arising from a single fact may be too vague and obscure to support any inference; or inferences contrary to those required by a probable theory may, with seemingly greater force, be drawn. But a main probability, arising from a sum of facts, may not oply exclude this contrary inference, but even con- nect the seemingly hostile fact, with the reasoning it seemed to oppose, as the essential link of a chain of settled facts. It then not only receives an authentic stamp from this concurrence ; but it gives much additional force to the whole chain of inference, and still more to the ultimate conclusion to which they legitimately conduct. 'Jo state such a question, the testimonies of ancient authors, the traditions of the country, the customs and superstitions, the structure of the language, the names of places, and the monuments of the land, are the plainer and more tangible materials. To estimate these, there is no need for refined reasoning or minute and subtle investigation. Whatever separate weight may be attached to a few sentences of an ancient classic — or to the fractured pillar, or rusted weapon — or doubt- ful ana!og-y of speech or custom; it will appear on the very surface, that there is a combination of phenomena, which belongs to the history of no other modern European land, and which, whatever may be its solution, excludes at least the analogies of modern history : and next, that these phenomena are such as to fall within the common analogy of another more ancient order of things. The value of this simplification of the subject will be evident to those who have explored the voluminous range of writers, who have taken opposite views, in a field so fertile of controversy. There ar-e indeed few subjects of human inquiry which have afiorded more ample scope to the opposite errors of reason: the enthusiastic imagination, that beholds towers and temples, and the whole gorgeous moving scene of human existence, in the distant clouds of ages receding into oblivion; the superficial but vivacious acuteness, that sees nothing but the atom on which the microscope of a small mind is directed, and exhibits its petty ingenuity, in reconciling, on false assumptions, the small portion which it comprehends, and denying the rest. The real importance of such a method extends, indeed, far beyond the limited subject of this dissertation ; as it might be usefully extended to the erroneous school of history which disgraces the literature of the age. A little impartial attention, thus directed to the subject of ancient Irish history, would dissolve many intricate knots, in which some of our very best guides have now and then entangled themselves : of this we shall presently offer some instances- But it is time to descend into the particulars. Of our view it pei'haps may be now unnecessary to pre- mise, that it is our object merely to exhibit an outline of the subject. To do this with less embarrassment, we shall exclude the consideration of the separate facts and opinions to be adduced, further than in their relation to the whole. So far as we shall be obliged to transgress this rule in a few important points, we shall take occasion to bring forward the statement of some authoritative writer. This will be the more neces- sary, as a great portion of our readers cannot be presumed to be suffi- ciently acquainted with our neglected history, to attach the proper weight to a merely general statement. The records, of whatever class, which agree in referring the origin of the Irish population to a remote antiquity, are the only distinct traces to be found of the early history of the country. A different course of events must have left other traditions. Again; in every nation to which there is a history, the beginnings of that history are distinctly traced on the authority of some authentic records — unless in those cases in which all historians are agreed in attributing an immemorial antiquity: to this class may be referred India, Egypt, Persia, &c. So far, therefore, it is plain enough, that the early history of Ireland is, until the contrary shall be shown, referrible to the latter class, and not to the former. The traditions of the country affirm an extreme antiquity — the existing remains of ancient time correspond to this affirmation — the testimonies of ancient writers incidentally con- firm the same pretension — the language of the people is itself not only a monument of a remote and aboriginal antiquity, but indicates the very race affirmed by tradition — the remains of ancient superstition — the variety of names of places and things, with the old customs, reconcile- able with ancient rites and superstitions, and having no reference to any thing within the compass of modern history: all these, when taken in their full force, have separately a nearly conclusive weight; and together, set all rational scepticism at defiance. The reader must here recollect, that, so far, the inference is not one in favour of any particular system of Irish antiquity; it is simply the affirmation, that such a remote antiquity, as our historians claim, is to be admitted, whether it can be distinctly ascertained or not. But when this point is gained, it will be quickly observed by the intelligent reasoner, that nothing remains worth the sceptic's disputing. If we admit the general assertion of an origin which must at all events synchronize with the ancient races of mankind, there can be nothing HISTORICAL mTRODUCTION. 9 incredible in the conclusion which fixes any ancient race as the primal colonists of the land ; though there may be something absurd in the effort to arrive at inferences totally inconsistent with this general admission. In the best evidence to be derived from tradition, or accidental notice of historians, or any other ancient record or monviment not fall- ing within the scope of full historical consent, there must be some degree of doubt. The origin of such memorials is questionable, or their imputed antiquity doubtful. But the case of Irish antiquity is something different from one of forced constructions and isolated testimonies. It is a case, having all the evidence that it admits of, to establish an inference of Itself previously probable ; and not encumbered by the adverse circumstances of any other construction to be set in opposition. If the Irish race is not to be deduced, according to the claims of its annalists and poets, it cannot be deduced in any other ivai/. And the deduction of its annalists and poets, though vitiated by all sorts of extravag'ance, has yet a fundamental agreement with probability, which demands a general consent. The highest degree of historical evidence, it must be recollected, has only existence in one example, in which a mass of parallel and correspondent narrations and documents, published by contemporaries, are, from the very period, confirmed by institutions, vast social changes, multiplied and lasting controversies, and authenticated by numerous copies, and the still more numerous citations of a series of writers, reaching down the whole interval of ages. From this high ap- proach to certainty, there is a descent through innumerable degrees of evidence, till we reach the legendary mixtures of fact and fable, which hang, with a cloudy indistinctness, about the twilight of barbaric tradition. But in all these lessening degrees, there is, to historic reason, a pervading thread of evidence of another order, and con- sisting in the analogy of our nature, and that analogy which is to be extracted from the traditions of all nations. These considerations would lead us far from our direct purpose, which is, with the utmost brevity and simplicity in our power, to con- nect them with the questions which have been raised upon the early history of Ireland. To these we shall now proceed. That all nations, of which the origin does not fall within the periods of modern history, have showTi the natural disposition to claim a remote ancestry in, or beyond the earliest traditions of the human race, is a fact easily proved by an extensive induction. But it is also true that such pretensions must be within certain limits, agreeable to the general truth, which must so infer the origin of all. It is not about the fact, but about the authority and the particular account, that the objection can lie. Were we therefore to take up the extreme positions of those enthusiastic writers who have chosen to begin before the flood, it is not on the score of possibility, or even probability, that we are fairly entitled to impeach their assertions. It is simply a question as to the authority for affirmations which are in themselves not unlikely to come near the truth. In opposition to this truth, the objections of the sceptic have been too much aimed at the conclusion, and too little at the statements of evidence on which it rests. This fact may be illustrated by an observation of Plowden's : •' Not one of 10 EARLY. those," ^s■rites Plowden, " who deny, or even question, the general authenticity of the ancient history of Ireland, from Gerald Barry to the Rev. James Gordon, has offered an objection to any one of their philological observations and inferences. Most of them profess, and all of them are believed, to be ignorant of the Irish language." Language When it exists to a sufficient extent, there is no evidence so authoritative as language. The exploits of visionary philologists have communicated to sober persons a not unwarranted distrust in a science confused by so much ingenuity. But setting this apart, the distrust it can reflect on the simplest and clearest inferences which such investigations can afford, nmst be described as the opposite extreme of prejudice- It is universally allowed, that the Irish language has an origin beyond the period of authentic modern history: and this, to go no farther, settles, heyond dispute, the remote antiquity of the race to which it is peculiar, and lays a firm founda- tion for the successive steps of inference by which that race can be more closely identified with the known races of antiquity. The affinity of this language with that of other people who are derived from the Celtic stock, and its entire freedom from analogous relations with the Roman, Greek, and other fundamental languages of the modern nations, guide, with unerring certainty, to the next generally admitted step — namely, the Celtic descent of the Irish. On this point, we believe, there now exists little, if any, difference of opinion, — and it needs not here be argued further, than by the state- ment of the opinions of some of our most recent writers, who — having been expressly engaged in the study of the subject — ^have given their opinions on a full review of the best authorities. " There appears to be no doubt," says Mr Moore, "that the first inhabitants of Ireland were derived from the same Celtic stock which supplied Gaul, Britain, and Spain, with their original population. Her language, and the numerous monuments she still retains of that most ancient superstition, which the first tribes who poured from Asia into Europe are known to have carried with them wherever they went, must sufficiently attest the true origin of her people. Whatever obscurity may hang round the history of the tribes that followed this first Eastern swarm, and however opinions may still vary, as to whether they were of the same, or of a different race, it seems at least certain, that the Celts were the first inhabitants of the Western parts of Evu'ope ; and that, of the language of this most ancient people, the purest dialect now existing is the Irish." — Cab. Cyc. Hist. Ire. i. From the same Avriter, whose work abounds with proofs of industry in the collection of authorities, we shall offer another attestation to the same purport, which bears yet more immediately on the point to be here illustrated. " Abundant and various as are the monuments to which Ireland can point, as mute evidences of her antiquity, she boasts a yet more striking proof in the living language of her people, — in that most genuine, if not only existing dialect, of the oldest of all European tongues — the tongue which, whatever name it may be called by, ac- cording to the various theories respecting it, whether Japhetan, Cim- merian, Pelasgic, or Celtic, is accounted most generally to have been tiie earliest brought from the East, by the Noaehidse, and accordiug'Iy HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 11 to have been the vehicle of the first knowledge that dawned upon Europe. In the still written and spoken dialect of this primeval language, we possess a monument of the high antiquity of the people to whom it belongs, which no cavil can reach, nor any doubts disturb." Some of the curious and instructive authorities, with which Mr Moore has illustrated these remarks, should not in justice be omit- ted. One of these may appropriately lead to the notice of a curious discovery, which, it appears to us, that Mr Moore is inclined to under- value on rather insufficient grounds. Two confirmations of the antiquity and Eastern origin of the Irish language, mentioned by antiquaries, are the gutturals with which it is so strongly characterized, and the singular coincidence by which its alphabet seems identified with that brought by Cadmus from Phoe- nicia into Greece. On the latter of these points we shall be content to borrow a single quotation from Huddlestone, on the authority of Mr Moore. " If the Irish had culled or selected their alphabet from that of the Romans [an assumption by which this coincidence has been explained], hov/, or by what miracle, could they have hit on the iden- tical letters which Cadmus brought from Phoenicia, and rejected all the rest? Had they thrown the dice sixteen times, and turned up the same number every time, it would not have been so marvellous as this." This identity (if it exist) cannot be due to chance. It must arise from the adoption of the Phoenician alphabet, or from the same language having" suggested the same letters. The latter inference is absurd; but either must lead to the same conclusion. But the next point, of which this is valuable as a confirmation, is the real or supposed discovery of Vallancey, on the coincidence of the Irish language with some passag-es of an ancient unknown tong-ue, supposed to be the ancient Phoenician, and given as such in an ancient drama, the Pcenulus of Plautus. A coincidence so startling, is likely to awaken suspicion, and draw forth opposition in proportion to its value, as confirmatoi-y of any historic inference. It is fair to prefiice it here by stating, that it is questioned by authoritative linguists and antiquaries: but we may add, that the objections which we have heard or read, are not conclusive enough to warrant our rejection of so important an illustration of our antiquity. The chief of these we shall notice, but first we may state the facts. The Pcenulus of Plau- tus contains about twenty-five lines of a foreign language, put by the dramatist into the mouth of Phoenicians; but which has ever since continued to defy the research of etymologists. By a fortunate thought, the sagacity of Vallancey, or of his authority (for his claim to originality is doubted), hit upon a key to the difficulty. By attending to the vocal formations of these lines, they were found, without any transposition of sound, to be resolvable into words, ex- hibiting but slight differences from the Irish lang-uage ; and by the comparison thus suggested, they were, by several persons, translated into a sense, such as the suppositions of the drama required. As the experiment was repeated, with the same result, on persons having no correspondence with each other, and ignorant of the nature ot the trial, two very strong confirmations were thus obtained: one from the coincidence of the interpretations with each other, and the other 12 EARLY. from tlie coincidence of all with the sense of the drama, and the trans- iatlon g-iven by Plautus. If this statement be true, we submit, that the case so made out, must set aside all objections. These coincidences, of which we shall presently offer some satisfactory examples, are materially confirmed, by a fact which seems at first to bear the op- posite construction. A similar comparison with the Hebrew is pro- ductive of a result of the same nature, but with a far inferior degree of coincidence, both in sense and sound. With a specimen of this we shall not need to detain the reader: the object of our noticing, is to point out, and still more to meet the prejudice, which it seems to liaise against the argument. The direct inference in our favour is but slight — being the general confirmation of the affinity between the Irish and the Hebrew, an affinity by which it is, in a similar manner, connected with most other ancient Asiatic tongues. This has been dis- tinctly traced by many writers, as well as by Vallancey, but our cursory purpose does not admit of entering into so expansive a field of etymo- logical learning. The fact may, however, conduce to an object which we cannot thus pass by — the explanation of the seeming objection which seems to arise from the possibility of thus resolving the same lines into different languages. It seems, on the mere statement, to give an arbitrai-y character to all the interpretations, not reconcileable with any distinct or certain inference. But the objection, if admissible in its full force (which it is not), is met by the near affinity of all the languages which can be so applied ; an affinity which may be indeed measured by the approach to coincidence in the third or common medium thus sujiposed. A moment's recollection of the nature of language, as addressed to the ear and not the eye, will enable the reader to understand the proposition : that all language is a succes- sion of sounds, not distinguished by the divisions of writing, or by any divisions in the nature of separation ; but by sj/llables, distinguished by a vocal formation, which compels the organs of speech to utter them in distinct articulations. Hence, if this be rightly understood, the formation of a supposed language, by an arbitrary division of letters, is impossible. To effect this object, the division must be strictly syllabic, and admits of but the few and simple variations which belong to languages which have the closest affinity : all possible divisions offer but one succession of syllabic sounds. But the supposed objection can scarcely be admitted to exist. The verses in the Ftsnula may be decomposed into Hebrew sounds, and translated, by some force on words, into a sense not inconsistent with the design of Plautus. But the Irish approaches to the near coinci- dence of a dialect, and gives the full ancl accordant interpretation of the lines in Plautus, as translated in Plautine Latin. But this is not all: the same inference is supported as clearly through the dialogue of a scene in the same play. We shall now offer specimens of both, beginning with the scene, as least commonly to be met with in the writers who have noticed the subject. In the second Scene of the fifth Act of the Pcenula, the following dialogue occurs: — * * Vallanrey's Collectiinea, vol. ii. 306. et srq. HISTORICAL INTRODUCTIOK 13 MiLP. Adibo hosce atque, appellabo Punice ; Si respondebunt, Punice pergain loqui : Si non : turn ad horum mores linguam veitero. Quid ais tu ? ecquid adliuc commeministi Punice ? Ag. Nihil adepol, nam qui scire potui, die milii Qui illinc sexeiinis perierim Karthagine ? Han. Pro di immortales ! plurimi ad hunc modum Periene pueri liberi Karthagine. Mil. Quid ais tu ? Ag. Quid vis ? Mil. Vin' appellein hunc Punice ? Ag. An scis? Mil. Nullus me est hodie Pcenus Punior. Ag. Adi atque appella, quid velit, quid venerit, Qui sit quojatis, unde sit : ne parseris. Mil. Avo ! quojatis estis? aut quo ex oppido ? Han. Hanno Muthumballe hi Cheadreanech. Irish. Hanno Muthumbal bi Chathar dreannad. I am Hanno Muthumbal, dwelling at Carthage. Passing' over some remarkable coincidences of the same kind, we come to some which exhibit the remarkable fact, that Plautus, who borrowed the scene from an earlier di'ama, did not understand the languag-e thus quoted, or seem aware how it applied to the direct pur- pose of his dialogue. The Phoenician, it should be stated, is one who has been bereaved of his chikh'eu: — - Hanno. Luech la chunanim liminicliot. Irish. Luach le cheanuaic/hiin Horn miocht. At any price 1 would purchase my children. The interpreter, in the drama, gives the following explanation : — Ligulas canalis ait se advexisse etnuces; &c. Ag. Mercator credo est. Han. ' Is am ar uinam : Irixh. Is am ar uinneam. This is the time for resolution. Han. Paluni erga dectha ! Irish. Ba liom earga deacta I will submit to the dictates of Heaven. One extract more we must not omit, as containing a coincidence of a different kind, but not less important to another portion of this argument : — Han. Gun ebel Balsemeni ar a san. Irish Guna bil Balsamen ar a son. O that the good Balsamen may favour them ! It would be easy, from the same source, to pursue these quotations with others leading to the same curious inference. We must, however, content ourselves for the present with a few taken a little further on, which we give as usually found in the essays written on the subject: — Punic. Bythim mothym moelothii ne leathanti dioesmachon. As arranged by Vallancey: — Byth lym ! Mo thym nocto thii nel ech anti daise niachou. Irish. Beith liom. Mothinie noctaithe niel acanti daisic mac coine. English. Be with me : 1 have no other intention but ol recovering my dauifhter. 14 EARLY. The last we shall give is literally coincident with the Irish : — Handone silli hanum bene, silli in mustine. English. " Whenever she grants a favour, she grants it linked with misfortunes." The question here stated, and so far explained for the reader's de- cision, was put to a test of the most rigid kind, by different inquirers, amongst whom Dr Percy, the celebrated bishop of Dromore, may be mentioned particularly. He mentions in the preface to his great work, that he set different persons to translate the lines in Plautus, by their knowledge of the Irish language : and, without any previous prepara- tion, or any communication with each other, they all gave the same sense. Recent writers have treated this argument with undeserved slight. If the inference is to be rejected, all reference to the class of proof to which it belongs must be rejected: and we must confess, that notwithstanding the great learning and ability with which his argu- ment is followed out, we are surprised at an elaborate parallel between Irish and Hebrew, in a recent writer, who rejects, by compendious silence, a parallel so much more obvious and complete. But a writer of higher note demands the few remarks which we dare to add to this discussion, already grown beyond the measure of a prefatory essay. The coincidences which Mr Moore calls casual, are not such as to ad- mit of a term which a,nnihilates all the pretensions of the closest affi- nities of language, and which violates also the demonstrative laws of probability: insomuch, that if, as Mr Moore affirms, the admission of the inference proves too mvich, we very much fear that so much as it proves must be admitted, though it should discomfit a little political theory. The reasoning- adopted by Mr Moore (who does not, we suspect, attach much real weight to it) can be reduced to a very easy dilemma. The objection is this : that the "close conformity" attempted to be established between the Irish and Phoenician, does not allow sufficiently for the changes which language must be supposed to un- dergo in the six centuries between Plautus and the foundation of Car- thage ; and also, that Ireland should not only have been colonized di- rectly from Carthage, but have also retained the language unaltered through so many centuries. The actual principle on which the real weight of this objection hangs, is the assumption of the necessity of the continual and uniform alteration of language in the course of time. Now, there is either a considerable difference between the languages compared by Vallancey, or there is not. If there is so much as to reduce the comparison merely to a caxual resemblance, this portion of the objection fails, on the ground that such a difference is a sufficient alteration for 600 years to have accomplished. If, on the contrai-y, there is so little difference as to answer the purpose of such an objection, it becomes altogether nugatory, for if in this case the lines in Plautus be admitted as geimine, the Irish and Phoenician languages are the same: and the doubtful chronology must give way to the settled fact. But, in point of fact, the comparison in question, while it clearly establishes the close relation of dialects of a common language, exhibits full altera- tion enough for GOO years. The alterations of language are by no means proved to be uniform, but depend on many circumstances both ill the character and history of a people. To estimate the law of change — and the change of language depends on all others — requires HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 15 much powei- of abstracting the mind from the notions acquired in the recent order of things. The laws of social progression have, since the end of the 1 8th century, undergone an alteration which continues to baffle calculation. The extraordinary disruptions and revolutions of ancient empires nmst, in numberless instances, have produced the most rapid alterations in habits, religion, language: but there was no rate of internal progress in the domestic history of any ancient nation which demands more allowance in the change of dialect, than is appa- rent in the case under consideration. This consideration derives some added weight from one frequently noticed by Mr Moore : namely, the natural tenacity of the Celtic disposition — a tenacity which is most remarkable in the Irish branch, and therefore probably in their Phoe- nician kindred: being, in fact, one of the great common characteris- tics of Oriental origin. In a word, on this point, we cannot admit that the question of time can be reasonably adopted as a criterion on this subject. Of all the difficulties in the investigation of antiquity, those attending chronology are by far the greatest ; and, when certain other tests not very abundant are wanting, the most dependent upon the previous decision of a variety of questions and the comparison of a multitude of slight probabilities. Such difficulties as the uncertain chronology of periods and people, of which our knowledge is but in- ferential and traditionally, cannot be suffered to interfere with the con- clusions from the plainest affinity of language — preserved traditions — authenticated historical notices — and existing monuments. And if we are to be scrupulous in receiving the theories and systems of antiqua- rian fancy, we are, in like manner, bound to be cautious not to err on the other extreme, by lightly suffering theory equally unfounded to form the ground of our scepticism. The theory of human progress, were it to be reasoned out from a comprehensive view of the history of mankind, should itself depend on the comparison of facts of this nature. The rate of national change is, in any period, only to be ascertained from phenomena, of which the language of each period is by far the most available and certain test ; as being an instrument most immediately affected by all the changes and peculiarities of na- tionality. We are reluctant to dwell on a subject which, to most of our readers, can have little interest ; but we have also to remark, that the actual amount of change which the Phoenician language may have undergone in the 600 years supposed, is not to be measured by the language of poetry, proverb, or general moral sayings. To affect these there must be a rapid change of the moral character of a nation, and even thus the effects are comparatively slight, from the more per- manent nature of moral notions. The changes to which the Phoe- uician people w^ere most, but still comparatively little subject, must have arisen from the intercourse of commerce and the increase of luxury: and chiefly acted on the names of things and the operations of art. It is to be remembered, that the greatest changes language can be ascertained to have undergone, were from a cause not connected with time, but violent interference. But we are transgressing our limits and our humbler province : we shall now, as briefly as we can, lay before our readers the traditionary authorities, which derive nmch added weight from the above consideration. 16 EARLY. Ancient AutJioritij — We should next offer a sketch of the ancient historic remains of" Phoenicia, as from such a view might be drawn some of the most important corroborations of the common inference of our Irish antiquaries in favour of the Phoenician colonization of the country. But, anxious to preserve the brevity which should charac- terize a discussion merely incidental to our main design, we niust be con- tent to append the simple outline which a few sentences may contain. Historians are ag'reed in attributing to the Phoenicians the origin of commerce and navigation ; but it is enough that their history presents the earliest elements and first records of these great steps of human progress. For ages, they had no rivals on the sea ; and as neighbour- ing- states rose into that degree of prosperity which extends to com- mercial wants, the Phoenicians were still the carriers of other people. Situated on a rocky and confined tract of territory between Libanus and the sea, there was probably added to the enterprise of commerce, that overflow of people which causes migration; and in direct cause of these conditions there arises a very high probability, that they would be the first discoverers, and the earliest colonists, of distant islands only accessible by the accident of navigation. As this previous pro- bability is itself of a very high order, so any circumstances tending to confirm it, being- in themselves bvit probable consequences, both re- ceive from, and impart considerable strength to, the same conclusion. Of such a nature is the afiinity of language so fully proved in the last section. To this we may add the consent of tradition, and the agreement, to a certain extent, of authorities. On the latter topic we shall say little. There is satisfactory reason, why much stress cannot be justly laid on express historical authority — in either way. This period of the early occupation of Ireland by her Celtic inhabitants, and of her probable colonization from Phoenicia, is not properly within the limits of authentic history. Before the earliest of the Greek historians, to whom we are indebted for the first distinct notices of the island, a period of civilization and, perhaps, of commercial importance, had passed away. The power and glory of Phoenicia itself was gone — the relations of the civilized world and the form of civil society had changed: Ireland had passed into a phase of obscurity, and was mentioned but incidentally, or as a remote and unimportant portion of the known world. Such notices must needs have been slight, and for the same reason liable both to important oversights and misstatements. This consideration must, to the fair reasoner, sugg-est a special rule of historical construction, which, before noticing these authorities, we must endeavour to explain. The assumption of the kind of ignorance here explained, suggests the inference that such accounts, while founded on some remains of an authoritative nature then extant — but remote, obscure, imperfect, and neither fully known or distinctly understood — must necessai'ily be affected by consequent misrepresentations : and that therefore, allow- ing a foundation in truth, they must be understood subject to the corrections to be derived from other sources of inference, and to be considered still as authoritative, so far as they can be confirmed by such a comparison. Into this comparison it is needless to enter formally: it is, when stated, so nearly the obvious common sense of the HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. subject, that the plainest reader may be safely Id^ to apply it. Its main application is to account for the scanty notice of the early histo- rians, who appear to have given so disproportionate an importance to the surrounding countries; and also for the existence of the adverse testimonies of Pomponius and Solinus, Strabo and Diodorus. Of these writers it may be observed, that the times in which they wrote, fall within a period in which the Irish nation had sunk both into bar- barism and obscurity- It was also a period when the general ignor- ance which existed as to the greater portion of the world, exposed not only the geographer but the historian to the evils of credulity : where so much must have been received on trust, and so many false notions corrupted the little that was known ; there was both a facility in the reception of vague report, and the adoption of hasty inference on insuffi- cient grounds. The temptations to fill up a blank of slight seeming im- portance, in an anxious work of extensive and laborious inquiry, would, in the absence of that minutely searching and jealous observation which now guards the integrity of writers, make such temptations less likely to be resisted. But even with these allowances, there is, pro- perly, nothing' in the authorities called adverse, to impair the moder- ate view which we are inclined to adopt. Our best authorities substantially concur in the opinion, that this country was, at a remote period, the scene of the highest civilization in that period existing. From this state it appears to have slowly decayed into a state of barbarism, in which little of that earlier civilization but its monuments remained. Of this, we must say more in our next section : we mention it here, as explaining more distinctly to readers who are not professedly conversant with the subject, the confusion which is to be found in all that numerous class of writers, of the last century, in their incidental notices of the subject of Irish antiquities. Assuredly the laws of human nature are sometimes over- looked in the eagerness of controversy. The inconsistencies discov- ered in the traditions of our ancient race, are admitted facts in the history of others. The very characteristic marks of extreme antiquity are made objections to the claim. Ancient civilization, altogether different from that of any time within the limits of modern history, is uniformly stamped with features to which may be applied the expres- sive term barbaric— conveying a sense different from the rudeness of the savage state. Characters of profound knowledge, high mental development, and mechanic skill, are accompanied by wants and manners now confined to the savage state. And thus may the scepti- cal inquirer always find materials ready for the manufacture of easy contradictions. With regard to Ireland, the vicissitudes of many centuries have brought with them sad reverse. And the downright barbarism into which she has been crushed by a succession of dreadful revolutions — the ceaseless vortex of internal strife — have been mistaken by shallow observers for national characters. This is among the large class who take no interest in the history of Ireland — the main source of mistake upon the subject: they see, but do not learn or think; and therefore see but half, and are presumptuously or ignorantly wi-ong. It is unquestionably to be admitted, that much of the common scep- 1. B 18 EARLY. ticism, -which we have here noticed, is due to the extravagance of writers on Irish history, who, combining enthusiasm with profound historical ignorance, have misinterpreted the proofs of Irish civilization, into a degree and kind of civilization which never had existence; confusing the additions of poetry and the dreams of fancy, with the slender basis of fact on Avhich they are built. Such are the gorgeous chimeras which ornament and discredit the narrations of Walker, Keating, O'Halloran ; while Ledwich and Pinkerton, with more seem- ing reason, but less truth, adopt the safe and easy rule of comprehen- sive incredulity. But there is a juster and safer middle course which will be found to exact neither rash admissions or rejections. It sets out on two well- grounded conclusions, into which the strongest oppositions of fact will fall, disarmed of their opposition The first, thus already explained: the admission of a previous period of civilization, followed by one of barbarism; the other, a known fact common to the ancient history of nations, the co-existence of high degi^ees of civilization In some resjiects, with the lowest barbarism in others. With the help of these two plain assumptions, there Is nothing in the alleged antiquity of Ireland to be objected to on the score of Improbability. By duly weighing these reflections, we have some trust that the general reader will not be repelled from the subject, by the reputed discrepancies and confu- sion of old historians. The effort to fill up a period of hopeless obscurity, by extending back the vague and traditionary accounts of the more recent period, immediately anterior to Christianity, has been, we believe, a main source of error and delusion, on which, at a future stage of our labour, we shall offer a few remarks. The earliest notice, which the industry of students of Irish antiquity seem to have ascertained, occurs in a Greek poem, of which the supposed date is five hundred years before the Christian era. " There seems," observes Mr Moore, " to be no good reason to doubt the antiquity of this poem." Archbishop Usher says, in adverting to the notice it contains of Ireland, " the Romans themselves could not pro- duce such a tribute to their antiquity." In this poem, Ireland is mentioned under the Celtic appellation lernis ; and this, according to Bochart, on the autbority of the Phoenicians — as the Greeks had not then acquired a knowledge of Islands as yet Inaccessible to them. This assertion derives some added weight from the omission of any notice, in the same poem, of the neighbouring island of Britain. He- rodotus affords an additional gleam, by informing us of the only fact he knew respecting the British isles — that tin was Imported from them ; while he was Ignorant of their names. From these two notices, It seems an easy inference, that they were places of high commercial Importance to the great mistress of the seas ; while the Greeks, Ignorant at that time of navigation, had no popular, or even distinct knowledge of them ; arid the more so, from the well known secrecy observed by the Phoenicians, in all things concerning their commercial places of resort. From Strabo we obtain a lively picture, which bears the marks of truth, of their jealous vigilance In preserving a naval supremacy, which must, in those early periods, have depended. In a great measure, on the Ignorance of the surrounding states. If at any time, when at sea. HISTOKICAL INTRODUCTION. 19 they fell in with the vessels of any other people, or discovered a sail upon their track, all the resources of art and daring were used to de- ceive the stranger, and mislead conjecture. For this purpose, no (lunger or violence was too great, and the loss of ship or life was not considered too great a sacrifice to the security of their monopoly of the islands. From this it appears unlikely that much, or very distinct notice of the British isles should occur in the early writings of the Greeks ; and the value of the slightest is much increased, by the con- sideration, that more could not reasonably be looked for. The first of these notices of the two islands, is met in a work which has been sometimes attributed to Aristotle, but which, being dedicated to Alexander, is of thut period. In this they are mentioned by their Celtic names of Albion and lerne. A notice far more express occurs in a writer of far later date ; yet, bearing the authentic stamp of authority of a period comparatively early. At some time between the ninety-second and hundred and twenty- ninth Olympiad, the Carthaginians sent out two maritime expeditions to explore, more minutely, the eastern and western coasts of the world, as then known to them. Of these, that led by Himilco was directed to the Western Islands. Both of these voyagers left accounts of their voyages and discoveries, of which those written by Himilco were in- sei'ted in the Punic Annals. From these Festus Avienus, who wrote his poem, De Oils Maritimis, some time in the fourth century, affirms himself to have derived his accounts of the western coasts; and, in- deed, asserts an acquaintance with the original Journal. In this account, Himilco is described as coasting the Spanish shores — the known Phoenician course to these islands ; and stretching from the nearest point across to the J^estrumnides, or Scilly Islands. These are described, in the sketch of the geographical poet, as two days' voyag'e from the larger Sacred Island of the Hiberni, near which the island of the Albiones lies. Ast hinc duobiis in sacram sic Insulam Dixere prisci, solibus cursus rati est. Haec inter nnrJas multnm cespiteni jacit Eamque late gens Hibenorum colit Propinqua ruvsiis insula Albionum patet. — . Tartesiisqiie in termiims iEstruninidiim Negocianfli nios erat, Carthaginis Etiam colonis, et valgus inter Herculis Agitans columnas haec adibant aeqiiora. Avienus, De Or. Mar. In this ancient poem, which has all the authority which can be attributed to the ancient records of the annalists of any country, the description of the place, the colonists, and the ancient trade — the Sacred Island — its natives, with their manners, customs, and the peculiarities of soil and climate — are traced with a truth which vindi- cates the genuineness of the authority. The intercourse of the Phoeni- cian colonies of Spain is marked with equal distinctness. It has been, from considerations in no Avay recondite, proved hy necren,thatPtolemv's geographical work, must have been derived from i'hcenician or Tyrian avithorities.* It proves a knowledge of Ireland * The tact appears frcim Ptolemy, who refers to Maximus Tyrius. 20 EARLY. more minute and early than that of the otJier British isles. For while his accomits are vitiated by numerous topographical errors in describing' these, his description of Ireland, on the contrary, has the minuteness and accuracy of an elaborate personal survey. This, considering that Ireland was at this period unknown within the bounds of the Roman Empire, plainly shows the ancient as well as the intimate character of his authority. This observation seems confirmed also by the peculiarity of giving the old Celtic names to the localities of Ireland, while Britain is described by the Roman names of places. Another ancient geographer* states, that in the earlier periods of Phoenician commerce, the western promontories of Europe were distinguished by three sacred pillars, and kno^^^^ by ancient religious Celtic names. To these must be added the well-known testimony of Tacitus. In his Life ofAgricola, mentioning the conquest of Britain, he describes it by its position opposite the coast of Hibernia. Describing the latter, he mentions its position: " Medio inter Britanniam atque Hispaniam sita, et Gallico quoque mari opportuna, valentissimam imperii partem magnis nobilem usibus miscuerit Solum cseclumque, et ingenia cultusque hominum, baud multum a Britannia diflFerunt : Melius aditus portusque per commercia et negociatores cogniti" The force of the last sentence has been attempted to be removed, by referring the word melius to the former clause of the sentence. The correction has been justly rejected on consideration of style; it is still more ob- jectionable, as it would destroy a sense confirmed by other authority, for one at variance with all ; and, also, in some measure inconsistent with the context of the historian, who begins his paragraph by the emphatic description of the new conquest: " Nave prima transgressus, ignotas ad id tempus gentes." It is indeed quite evident, that there is a distinct and designed opposition between the two descriptive sen- tences, of which the latter has a reference to the former. The roads and ports, better known by commercial intercourse and to merchants, is altogether, and even strikingly at variance with the nations un- known till then. And the correction supposes a vagueness of style inconsistent with the known character of the writer. We cannot, in this discourse, dwell at greater length on a topic capable of much extension, and have confined our notice to the more generally known writers. We think, however, that it is quite suffi- ciently conclusive, that there was an early intercoiu'se between PhcE- nician traders and Ireland; that there may also have been at some period, of which the time cannot be distinctly ascertained, a Phoenician colony settled in the island ; by whom, it is in a high degree probable, the Phcenician language, letters, and religious rites, were introduced. These we state as moderate inferences, from the authorities exempli- fied in this section. Most of them, however, are more conclusively inferred from other considerations. Sanchoniathon, a reputed Phoenician historian, the supposed remains of whose history are preserved by Eusebius, furnishes an account of the early superstitions of the Phoenicians, which, by comparison, mani- fest remarkable coincidences with those which can be traced to the * Siralio. HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 21 lioatlien antiquity of Ireland. This work rests, however, on doubtful grounds ; inasmuch as it is, by some learned writers, supposed to be the forgery of Philo Byblius, its alleged translator from the Phceniciau original. This is therefore the point of importance. The nature and value of the testimony to be derived from it, scarcely warrant a minute and critical re-examination of the question: but we may state the reasons on which it has been thought proper to set aside even this quantum of our argument. The absence of all previous notice of a work, affirmed to be written before the Trojan war, until its transla- tion by Philo Byblius, seems to discredit the assertion of its previous existence ; and this the more, as it seems only to have been brought to light, by the only testimony we have for it, for the purpose of sup- plying an argument against Christianity. These reasons are of no weight: the obscurity of a Phoenician mythological work, in the time of Philo, was too likely a circumstance to be made an objection of; and the supposed argument is obliged to be given up, as unsustained by his authority, by the acute Porphyry. The errors which have been detected in the chronology, amount to no valid objection to the genuineness of the work. Stillingfleet, who exposes them with much learning and acuteness, does not think so. A copy of Sanchoniathon's work is said to have been recently discovered in Germany, and is now in process of translation.* The worship and early religious opinions of the Phoenicians, as described by this author, so nearly resemble the ancient superstitions of the heathen Irish, that the attention of antiquaries was drawn to the subject, by the points of resemblance, before actual investig-ation confirmed the conjecture of their original causes of the resemblance. The worship of Baal may be considered as a sufficiently authentic character of both, not, indeed, resting on the authority of any doubtful writer. The Phoenicians worshipped the sun under this name, and celebrated the vigil of their annual festival by kindling a great fire: the same custom is familiar to every one, who knows the country, as an Irish custom. Dr Par- sons, who describes it with the accuracy of an antiquary, observes, " In Ireland, the 1 st of May is observed with great rejoicings by all those original people throug-h the kingdom ; and they call May-day Bealtine, HeLtine, or Balteine, the meaning- of which is, " the fire of Baal." Mr Plowden observes, that the " analogies and coincidences" between the still existing customs of the Irish, and the history of Sanchoniathon, are very striking; and, we would here observe, in addition to our previous remarks on the genuineness of that ancient writer, that as it could not have been forged for the purpose of this comparison, such coincidences are, to a certain extent, confirmatory of its authority ; and, at all events, indicate a common fountain of authentic tradition from which the history of the ancient Phoenician worship must have been drawn. The Old Testament may have supplied an accurate outline, but no more. It can scarcely be supposed to supply a clue to details which are so faithfully reflected in the existing customs of the Irish people. The sun and moon were, it appears, worshipped under the appellations of Bel and Samhin ; and O'llalloran has observed, lieiJOit oi Proceeilings in the Royal Irisli Academy. 22 EARLY. that the most cordial wish of blessing among the Irish peasantry is, " The blessing of Samen and Bel be with you." The Latin translator of Eusebius, remarks on the Phoenician word Bel Samen, that Baal Schamain among the Hebrews has the same signification ; and Plow- den remarks also, that in the Punic lines, to which we have already referred, this familiar invocation of the great deity of the Phoenicians twice occurs. Plutarch mentions an island in the neighbourhood of Britain, in- habited by a holy race of people. Diodorus is more particular: he describes an island over against Gaul, which answers to the descrip- tion of Ireland, both as to position and extent, as well as the habits and peculiarities of its people. "This island," he says, "was dis- covered by the Phoenicians, by an accidental circumstance ;" and adds, •' the Phoenicians, from the very remotest times, made repeated voyages thither, for purposes of commerce."* He also mentions the rites of sun-worship, the round temples, the study of the heavens, and the harp. These particulars, Mr Moore thinks, he may possibly have learned from the occasional report of Phoenician merchants ; while he is at the same time inclined to rank the hyperborean island of the historian, along with his island of Panchea, and other such fabulous marvels. There is, we admit, ground for this. But even allowing for the fictitious colouring, which so largely qualifies the statements of this historian, we ai'e on our part inclined to estimate them by a principle, wliieh, from the extent of its application, cannot be lost sight of without mistake: the value which separate testimonies derive from their concurrence with universal consent. The fanciful colouring- of the writer is, in the class of cases here supposed, invariably grounded on some origin in reality. To draw the line between the fancy and the fact, might be impossible ; but the object is here different : our innnediate argument does not require the minute estimation of the writer's character, and the confir- mation of every portion of his statement. Even the scenery and out- line of a fable may be confirmatory or illustrative of the localities and incidents of history; and, if the coincidence be sufficient, become historical. The account of Diodorus, offered as history, has the suffi- cient value of accordance with various notices and testimonies ; and is to be regarded as an indication of a received opinion, not in the slightest degree impaired by the author's known lubricity of statement. In the investigatina of traditionary periods, no single statement can be received as historically authentic. The object is rather of the nature of that process which fixes a point, by the concurrence of the lines which pass through it. The concurrence is the principal ground of inference. It is, indeed, on the same principle, that to interpret justly the remains of Irish antiquity, it becomes necessary to enlarge the student's scope of investigation to the view of all antiquity. The confident theory which stands uj^on a small basis of a few remote and isolated facts, may be destroyed by the discovery of a single new in- cident; and is depreciated by inferences, numerous in an inverse pro- portion to the number of these data. It is not until the trutli is recog- ' Quoted from Dalton's Lisay. HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 23 liised, that the antiqiiity of Ireland is a fragment of universal anti- quity, or utterly fallacious, that a catholic princijjle of historic inter- pretation can be found to govern investigation, and put an end to the thousand errors of partial views and inadequate inductions. The reader, who appreciates the state of Irish ancient history, will easily excuse our dwelling minutely on this consideration — in our history so much more impoi'tant than in that of any other modern state. Of the ancient idolatry of the sun in Ireland, we have already noticed some proofs. The festival of Samhin, one of the great divinities, whose worship is said to have been imported into Phoenicia from Samothrace, is clearly ascertained to have existed in Ireland, until the very introduction of Christianity. Strabo, on the authority of some ancient geographers, mentions an island near Britain, in which worship is offered to Ceres and Prosex'pine, like to that in Samothrace. But the reader, who may chance to be aware of the vast ocean of antiquarian learning into which this branch of the argument must needs lead, will see the necessity of our being summary in our notice of authorities. Among the numerous indirect authorities which, by their descriptions of the ancient religions of Eastern nations, enable us to pursue the comparison of these with our own antiquity, the features of comparison too often demand extensive discussion, and the application of critical learning, to fall in with the popular discussion. Sanchoniathon, Hero- dotus, and many other ancient names of the earliest geographers and historians, enable the industrious antiquary to collect the real features of Oriental antiquity. In the application of their authorities, there are, it is true, some difficulties, arising from the fact of the common anti- quity of so many early races. From this, some differences between the ablest writers, and not a little uncertainty has arisen: the reader is at first not a little confused by conjectures which appear to be dif ferent, while they are substantially the same; that is, so far as any question of the least importance is concerned. All agree in tracing to an eai'ly Oriental origin, names, customs, and superstitions, distinctly, and beyond all question, identified with the names, language, and local remains of Irish antiquity. The evidence becomes more really important, as less liable to various or opposing comment, when traced in the actual remains of the ancient native literature. Of this we do not feel it necessary to say much here: it nmst be sufficient for the purpose, to say that it is now ad- mitted to exist to a large extent; and the genuineness of the most considerable part is not questioned. From these, our ancient history has been compiled by Keating, in a work which has been much, though undeservedly, discredited, by the mistakes and interpolations of its translator. Of this Vallancey says, " Many of these MS. were collected into one volume, written in the Irish language, by Father Jeoft" Keat- ing. A translation of this work into English appeared many years ago, under the title of Keating's History of Iceland. The translator, entirely ignorant of ancient geography, has given this history an Eng- lish dress, so ridiculous, as to become the laughing-stock of every reader!" To this, amongst other such causes, may be attributed the long unpopularity and the scepticism, now beginning to disappear. The whole of these ancient materials correspond distinctly with Uto 24 EARLY. ancient annais of Phoenicia, "translated out of the books of kin" Hiempsal's library for Sallust;" they agree with the ancient Armenian history compiled by a writer of the fifth century ; and with many other ancient traditions and histories of the several nations having a com- mon affinity. But, what is more, they contain the most distinct de- tails of the early migrations and history of many of these tribes now extant. Such is a slight sketch of a class of facts, which the reader, who looks for distinct detail, will find amply discussed in numerous writers. We only here desire to enforce the general probability in favour of those writers, who, abandoning partial views, and taking the general ground of historic principle, have adopted the more ancient view of the origin of our native Irish race. The most probable illustration of the text of ancient writers, is their coincidence with the whole current of our national traditions; the more valuable, because it is easy to perceive that such a coincidence is altogether undesigned. The whole of these, again, is confirmed by the remains of antiquity, which are thickly scattered through every district. These last mentioned indications are indeed curiously mingled, and present, at first view, a vast confusion of national monuments and characteristics. But this confusion is not greater than, or in any way diiferent from, that of the varying traditions of our earlier ages. Both are consistently and satisfactorily explained in one way, and in no other. The accidental allusions of ancient foreign writers — the monuments of various and unlike races — the traditions bearing the stamp of customs and superstitions of different ancient type, — are all the evident and distinct confirmations of a traditionary history, which records the several invasions, settlements, changes, and incidents of national intercourse, from which these indications might be inferred as the necessary consequences. Now, if such an extended and various adaptation does not amount to a proof of the general correctness of the ancient history, which our soundest antiquarian writers have in- ferred from it, the sceptical writer may lay aside any degree of rea- soning, inference, or apparent facts, which he pretends to possess, as a worthless instrument and useless materials. Not to enter into any premature detail, it is probable that the first race of the ancient Celtic stock, retaining the more recent customs, worship, and characters of Oriental antiquity, sooner or later (we are only speaking of antecedent probability) received a fresh infusion of Celtic blood, which had flowed farther from the primitive source; thus adding, to the more ancient form of paganism, the more recent characters of a more advanced and more corrupt idolatry. Other colonies, at farther st.iges, brought the changes and left the monu- ments of ages and climates far separated from the first. But these changes were, for the most part, melted down into the prevailing tone of nationality, preserved by the primitive population, which still con- stituted the main body of the inhabitants; and whose native peculi- arities of character gave one national impress to the whole. Such is the view to be deduced from the comparison of indications, previous to any consideration of national tradition. Before leaving this point, it should be observed, that it is an important addition to the value of the chains of coincidence thus explained, that they are all distinctive, being exclusively characteristic of Irish history, and cannot therefore be resolved by any general theories on the antiquity of modern Euro- pean nations. Antiquities Let us now offer a few examples, taken from among the best known antiquities of the country, to give the reader a dis- tinct idea of the materials for the latter part of this comparison. The reader whose curiosity is sufficiently active, may find ample information in recent and authoritative works ; and every day is now adding to the abundance and distinctness of this information, under the active and able investigations of the Ordnance Survey, and the anti- quarian department of the Royal Irish Academy. The Hath, the Cromlech, the Cairn, the Rocking- Stone, with various remains of ancient weapons, utensils, and implements, offer abundant indications of a far distant period in the antiquity of the hviman race. Of these, many can be traced to other ancient nations, and these for the most part the same to which tradition assigns the origin of some or other of the races by which Ireland was anciently colonized. At a sitting of the Royal Irish Academy, 9th April, 1838, a letter from Dr Hibbert Ware* was read, describing a Cromlech near Bombay, in India, dis- covered by his son. As two very clever sketclies accompany this letter, the slightest inspection is sufficient to identify these Indian remains, in character and intent, with the numerous similar ones ic every district of this island. The same letter adverts to Maundrel's similar discovery on the "Syrian coast, in the very region of the Phoeni- cians themselves." At a previous meeting of the same learned body, February 26, a very curious and interesting account was given by Mr Petrie, of a remarkable collection of remains of this class, near the town of Sligo. Amongst many interesting facts and observations con- cerning these, Mr Petrie, after having mentioned that they contain human bones, earthen urns, &c., and conjectured that they ar-e the burial places of the slain in battle, goes on to mention the highly curious fact: — "Such monuments," he states, "are found on all the battle-fields recorded in Irish history as the scenes of contest between the Belgian or Firbolg and the Tuath de Danaun colonies;" after which, Mr Petrie is stated to have observed, "as monuments of this class are found not only in most countries of Europe, but also in the East, Mr Petrie thinks that their investigation will form an important accessory to the history of the Indo-European race, and also that such an investigation will probably destroy the popular theories of their having been temples and altars of the Druids."f In June, 1838, a paper, read by Sir W. Betham, on the tumulus lately discovered in the Phoenix Park, contains some observations not less confirmatory of the same general view. From indications of an obvious nature, he refers this class of monuments to a more remote antiquity, "at least of 3000 years " Sir W. Betham affirms it to be his opinion, that the sepul- chral monument here alluded to chiefly, is similar to the ancient Crom- lech, and affirms the opinion, that all Cromlechs are " denuded sepul- * To Sir W. BoUuim. t Report, of tlie Proceedings ot the lloyal Iribli Academy cbral chambers." We might, were such an object desirable, enumerate a large consent of authorities, and bring forward many cases ; we shall only further mention, th it Sir William Ousley discovered structures of the same description in Persia; and it is not without value, as a con- firmation, that the remarkable Cromlech near Cloyne, retains a name significant of coeval ancient superstition, being called, in the Irisli, Carig Cruatli, or Rock of the Sun. The Cromlech, by its construction, seems to imply a command of mechanic resource, which must be re- ferred to a very remote period. The management of the enormous masses of rock which form these ancient structures, is little consistent with any thing we know of the more recent antiquity, when wood and hurdle were the only materials of building: but not wanting in ana- logous character with the period of the Pyramids and Theban remains. This observation applies with still more force to the rocking-stone, of which many remains are yet found, some of which still retain their balance. Of these, one stands not far from Ballina; another near Lough Salt, in the county of Donegal ; there is also one in the county Sligo, at Kilmorigan. The above inference, from structure, applies with still more force to these, but their history offers a nearer approach to the same inference The rocking-stone of the Egyptians is minutely described by Bryant, and Pliny supplies a description still more exact — " .luxta Haspasus oppidum Asiae, cautes stat horrenda, uno digito mobilis ; eadem si ' toto corpore impellatur, resistens." The same, or nearly similar, stones are described by Sanchoniathon, as objects of Phoenician worship, and are still imagined by them (in the writer's time) to have been con- structed by the great god Onranos. These remains of ancient super- stition, were, however, probably common to Phoenicia, with evei'y Asiatic race, and therefore to be simply regarded as indications of Eastern descent. They are found in Ireland, Wales, and Cornwall, and have been described by travellers as having been met in various parts of Asia. The sacredness of hills is not peculiar to Irish, but known among the remains of early superstitions common to the primitive races of mankind. A more peculiar significance appears to belong to the known sacredness attached to certain hills which stood upon the boun- daries of provinces or kingdoms. A French writer,* cited by Mr Moore, among the " holy mountains of Greece," " has enumerated nearly a dozen, all bearing the name of Olympus, and all situated upon frontiers." The custom is proved to have pervaded the early nations of Asia; and connects them, in a common worship of the very remotest antiquity, with Ireland, in which the hill of Usneach, standing on the common frontier of five provinces, has always been held sacred, from the earliest times within the reach of inquiry. The sacredness of hills is indeed attested by many ancient customs, of which authentic traditions remain. Their kings were crowned on hills, and their laws seem to have derived sanctity from having been enacted on sacred heights. The dedication of these artificial hills to the sun, is, however, * Diiliime, des Cultes antericure a I'ltlolutrie, c. 8. HISTORICAL INTEODUCTION. 27 probably a distinct appropriation, confined to those Eastern countries in which the Cabini superstition prevailed. The more peculiar and (looking to tlie earliest periods still) recent connexion between Ireland and the East, will be observed to be indicated in the Irish names. The probability of a Phoenlciau origin, for this appropriation, is increased, by some traces of the same occurring in the mythological traditions of other nations, whose early history has an undoubted connexion with Phoenicia. The reverence shown towards stones by the ancient Irisli, is a mark of their Eastern descent. Of this there is one instance, of which the tradition has a very peculiar interest. It follows the singular fortunes of the stone on which the ancient kings of Ireland were crowned, throug-h its various removals, from Ireland to Scone, and from Scone to Westminster, Avhere it yet preserves its ancient place of honour in the coronation of our monarehs. Of this curious history there is no doubt, authority enough for the following notice. " When the Tuatha de Danano came over, they brought with them" four curiosities or monuments of great antiquity. The first was a stone which was called Lia Fail, and was brought from the city of Fa- lias; from which stone that city received its name. This stone was possessed of a very wonderful virtue, for it would make a strange noise, and be surprisingly disturbed whenever a monarch of Ireland was ci'owned upon it; which emotion it continued to sliow till the birth of Christ, who contracted the power of the devil, and in a great measure put an end to his delusions. It was called the Fatal Stone, and gave a name to Inisfail, as the poet observes in these verses:-^ From lliis strange stone did Inisfail obtain Its name, a tract surrounded by the njain. This stone, called Lia Fail, had likewise the name of the Fatal Stone, or the stone of destiny; because a very ancient prophecy belonged to it, which foretold, that in whatever country this stone should be pre- served, a prince of the Scythian race, that is, of the family of Milesius, king of Spain, should undoubtedly govern; as Hector Boetius gives the account, in his History of Scotland : — Ni fallat fatnm, Scot! qiiocunqiie locatum Inveiiient lapulem, regtiare teiienter ibidem. In the Irish language it runs thus: — Cineadh suit saor an fine munab breag an fhaisdine. Mar abhl'uigid an Lia fail dlighid flaitliios do ghabliaii. In English: — Unless tlie fixed decrees of fate give way, The Scots shall govern, and the sceptre sway, Where'er this stone they find, and its dread sound obey. " When the Scythians were informed of the solemn virtue of- this stone, Fergus the great, the son of Earca, having subdued the king- dom, resolved to be crowned upon it. F'or this purpose, he sent mes- sengers to his brother Mortough, the son of Earca, a descendant from Heremond, who was king of Ireland at that time, to desire that he would send him that stone to make his coronation the more solemn, and to perpetuate the succession in his family. His brother willingly complied with his request; the stone was sent, and Fergus received the crown of Scotland upon it. This prince was the first monarch of Scotland of the Scythian or Gadelian race ; and, though some of the Picts had the title of kings of Scotland, yet they were no more than tributary princes to the kings of Ireland, from the reign of Heremond, who expelled them the kingdom of Ireland, and forced them into Scot- land, where they settled. Fergus therefore was the first absolute monarch of Scotland, who acknowledged no foreign yoke, nor paid any homage to any foreign prince. This stone of destiny was preserved with great veneration and esteem, in the abbey of Scone, till Edward the First of England carried it away by violence, and placed it under the coronation chair in Westminster Abbey, by which means the pro- phecy that attended it seems to be accomplished; for the royal family of the Stewarts succeeded to the throne of England soon after the re- moval of this stone; a family that descended lineally from the Scythian race, from Maine Leamhna, son of Core, king of Munster, son of Luighdheach, son of Oilioll Flanbeg, son of Fiacha Muilleathan, king of Munster, son of Eogan Mor, son of Oilioll Ollum, king of Munster, who descended lineally from Heberus Fionn, son of Mileslus, king of Spain; every prince of which illustrious family successively received the crown upon this stone."* In fine. There is nothing more satisfactorily confirming the general truth of the accounts contained in the ancient tradition of Irish antiquity, than its strict conformity with the general analogy of human history. And this is so clear, as to admit of being stated as an extensive system of social institutions, manners, opinions, incidents, and events, which no human ingenuity could have framed together in all its parts, and so combined with existing remains, as to challenge not a single authoritative contradiction. If this vast and well devised combination be attributed to the invention of the bards, it assumes for these so much moral, civil, and political knowledge, as would do much hoi our to the discipline and experience of the 1 9th century. If it be attributed to the imagination of antiquarian theorists, we must say, that the most fanciful, credulous, and superstitious legendaries, have, after all, displayed more skill, method, and consummate wisdom, in devising a political and moral system, than their sober opponents have shown in detecting their error and credulity. And we should strongly advise our modern constitution-menders, and constructors of history, to take a lesson at their school. That the language of the bards is largely combined with fiction, is no more than to say — that they were poets; and the poetry of the age and country, as well as the state of the profession, led to a vast increase of this tendency ; that the legends of the monks were over- flowing with romance and superstition; and that the sober-paced annalists, to a great extent, falsified their records, by omission; and partial statement. All this may be admitted. The manifest lictions * KeMim. HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 29 and extra vaj^aucies, and anachronisms, may be allowed to prove so mucli- lUit the admission does not unsettle a single support, or shake down the slightest ornament, which belongs to the main structure of the ancient history of" Ireland. The sceptic has to account rationally, not only for the history itself, but for the language, and the very letters, in which it is written; and must adopt a chain of denials, affirma- tions, and reasonings, of the most abstruse, inventive, and paradoxical kind, to establish the falsehood of traditions, which, had they no proof, are yet the most likely to be the truth, and are quite unobjectionable on the general ground of historic probability. On the fictions of the ancient legends, it is, however, well remarked by Sir Lawrence Parsons,* that they generally affect the opinions of the writers, and not their veracity, as they most commonly consist of extravagant explanations of common and probable incidents. Such are the varied narrations, in which the various calamities of sickness, famine, fire. Hood, or storm, are ascribed to the magicians. If indeed the portion of common probability in the most fictitious legends be acceded to, as the necessary foundations of popular invention, there will be nothing- worth contending for. To sum briefly the general inferences to be drawn from the state- ments of our antiquaries, as to the origin of the Irish nation: As their letters and ancient language and traditions, are standing monu- ments of immemorial antiquity ; as these are confirmed by a great variety of lesser, but still decided, indications to the same effect; we must conclude, that the people to which tliey belong, are a race derived from very ancient stock. Secondly, as there is no distinct tradition, assigning the origin of this race to any probable period, within those limits of time which commence the records of modern nations, it is to be inferred, as must likely, that this ancient people have sprmig up from some earlier origin within the prior limits of ancient history. If so, they must have derived those immemorial traditions, letters, language, and bai'baric civilization, from that remote and primitive antiquity, and that ancient Eastern stock, of which they bear the decided characters. And the assumption may be taken, by antiquaries, as the solid basis of research, and probable conjecture. If these intro- ductory remarks were indeed written to meet the eye of learned antiquaries, it must be observed, that these reasons would now be needless. Among- the learned, there can scarcely be said to be a second opinion, so far as regards the main line of our argument. But with the vast and enlightened body of the reading public, it is, as we have already stated, otherwise. The claim of Irish history is regarded with a supercilious suspicion, very justifiable among those who know nothing of Irish antiquities. Ancient State The reader will easily collect the political consti- tution of ancient Ir-eland, from our notices of the kings in whose reigns wei-e effected the successive steps of its formation. We may here * The MS. of our half volume was unfortunately conipietef], when we received a C0|)y cf this Esj.ay, l)y far tiie ablest on the suliject. Wf have tiuis lost many coti- Ciusjve arjTiiments. 30 EAKLY. make this easier by a few general facts. To Eochaidh Eadgothacli is referred the first step in the process of social institution on which all civilization rests as a foundation: the regulation of ranks and orders, without which a crowd of men can become no more than a herd of wild beasts, levelled in the brutal disorder of promiscuous equality.* Legislation began with OUamh Fodla, and subsequent kings effected various improvements and modifications, from which the historian can easily trace the prosperity and adversity of after ag'es. There were six orders — the royal, aristocratic, priestly, poetical, mechanic and plebeian ; of these, viewed as composing- the body politic, they are more summarily distributed into kings, priests, and people: who assisted, or were represented, in the great assembly, or Fes. The monarchy was elective, but the election was, by the law at least, limited to the members of the royal family. From this many evils arose; one consequence, however, may be enough to mention here: the tendency of the succession to assume an alternate order, such that, on the death of a monarch, he was succeeded by the son of his pre- decessor. The disorders appurtenant to the elective principle, were in some degree limited, by the election of the successor of the monarch, or the chief (for the same rule of succession was general), at the time of their succession. This person was, in the case of the monarchy, called the Roydamna; in that of chiefs, the Tanist; and in both cases was en- dowed with proportional honours and privileges. " As to the law of Tanistry, by an inquisition taken at Mallow on the 25th of October 1594, before Sir Thomas Norris, vice-president of Munster, William Saxey, Esq., and James Gould, Esq., chief and second justices of the said province, by virtue of a commission from the Lord-Deputy and Council, dated the 26th of June before; it is found, among other things, "that Conogher O'Callaghan, the O'Callaghan, was and is seized of several large territories, in the inquisition recited, in his de- mesne, as lord and chieftain of Poble-Callaghan, by the Irish custom, time out of mind used ; that as O'Callaghan aforesaid is lord of the said country, who is Teig O'Callaghan, and that the said Teig is seized as Tanist by the said custom of several Plowlands in the inqui- sition mentioned; which also finds, that the custom is further, that every kinsman of the O'Callaghan had a parcel of land to live upon, and yet that no estate passed thereby, but that the lord (who was then Conogher O'Ciillaglian) and the O'Callaghan for the time being, by custom time out of mind, may remove the said kinsman to other lands ; and the in(juisition further finds, that O'Callaghan Mac Dermod, Tirelagh O'Callaghan, Teig Mac-Cahir O'Callaghan, Donogho Mac Thomas O'Callaghan, Conogher Genkagh O'Callaghan, Dermod Bane O'Callaghan and Shane Mac-Teig O'Callaghan, were seized of several Plowlands according to the said custom, subject, nevertheless, to certain seigniories and duties payable to the O'Callaghan, and that they were removeable by him to other lands at pleasure."| • We would not be understood to assert tliat iliis absolute equality ever exi.^ted. It is manifestly inconsistent with any state of human nature, until we reach that low level out of which no civilization can take its rise. t Ware's Antiquities. HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 31 The relig-ion of the heathen Irish was, as the reader will have col- lected, an idolatry of a ming-led form, to which many successive addi- tions had been made by different races of the same general type. Their cliief god was the sun, or Bel the g"od of the sun. Of tlie manners, arts, and knowledge of the first periods of Irish antiquity, we shall here say little, as it has long been the popular portion of the subject, on which most general information abounds, and on which the scepticism of the public is little involved. The bards were divided into three orders: — the Filea, the Senea- chie, and the Brehon. They were historians, legislators, and antiqua- ries. They enlightened and soothed the privacy of kings and chiefs, roused their valour, and celebrated their deeds in the field. Poetry was in the highest esteem: it comprised the learning, philo- sophy, and history, of the primitive forms of society. The poets were rewarded, caressed, and the exercise of their art regulated and re- strained, as of the hig'hest importance to the transmission of records, or the extension and perpetuation of fame. But the influence which they acquired over the passions of men was found to be excessive. The poet, and perhaps above all, the Celtic bard, when allowed to become in any way the organ of political feeling, has a tendency to faction, not to be repressed by discretion. The bower " where " Pleasure sits cart'less,ly smiling- at tame" is his most innocuous sphere, until his head and heart have been en- lightened and enlarged by true Christian philosophy. The sword which may haply lurk within the flowery wreath, while its occasional sparkles are seen to glitter through the fragrant interstices, may give spirit, and an undefined charm, to the emanation of grace and sweetness which delights the sense. But to abandon a metaphor, with which an Irish bard of the highest order has supplied us; wo betide the land where the passions of party shall have caught the fever of ^Joetic in- spiration! The throne of poetic genius is, in our eyes, sovereign: but the hearts it can move to action, are never of the noblest order, and the passions it can awaken best, are not those which conduce most to the furtherance of sober truth, the peace of society, or the happiness of the human race. Music has, perhaps in every age, had its fountain in the Irish tem- perament. It may perhaps be admitted as a fact by those who have an extensive knowledge of music, that the most perfect specimens of that part of musical expression which depends on the fine melody of an air, belong to the national music of the Celtic I'aces. The ancient music of the Irish is celebrated by all writers in Irish history; but music and poetry appear to have been inseparably united in the same class of professors. The introduction of Christianity changed the uses and, with these, the character of both these kindred arts. The Danes crushed them, together with the whole, nearly, of the graces and refinements of the primitive civilization of Ireland. Yet they lingered on still, and being deeply seated in the genius of their race, continued to shoot bright, but fugitive gleams, among the dust and ashes of national decay. 32 EARLY. Corinac, the celebrated king and bishop of Munster; was a poet, and tlie harp of 15rian still exists, " Though the days of the hero are o'er." We shall, hereafter, have occasion to offer a sketch of the history of the Irish bards. The ancient architecture of Ireland has been too much the sub- ject of controversy, to be discussed in an essay not desig-ned for the purpose of inquiry. There is sufficient reason to conclude, that dwell- ings were constructed of wood. " The subject of my inquiry, here, is only of the dwelling-houses of the ancient Irish, which, as they were neither made of stone nor brick, so neither were they (unless in a few instances) subterraneous caves or dens, like the habitations of the ancient Germans, according to Tacitus, in his description of that people; Ijut they were made of rods or wattles, plaistered over with loam or clay, covered with straw or sedge, and seldom made of solid timber. These buildings were either large or small, according to the dignity or quality of the inhabitant, and for the most part were erected in woods, and on the banks of rivers."* Of the handicraft arts of the earlier age of antiquity, we aie left to the inferences we can draw from the regulations of the mechanic class, which are such, as to indicate a superior attention to the various manufactures then employed. These chiefly consisted of articles of arms, dress, religious, and perhaps culinary uses. If we give any credit to the descriptions of regal state, and the enumerations of articles contained in the writings of the bards, these uses appear to have been various and splendid. From the same sources, gleams of manners are to be collected. These are such as might be inferred both from the state and natural genius of the people. But the subject is too merely inferential, to find a place here. Of their moral knowledge, a highly favourable idea may be collected from an ancient writing, of unquestionable authenticity, by Cormac, the son of Art. Of this too, we shall hereafter give a large specimen. The traditionary history of ancient lerne may be comprehended in a narrow compass : for, though bards have engrafted on it much poetic invention, it is nothing more in itself than an old table of descents It appears probable that the first inhabitants of Ireland were from Britain and Gaul. To this source may be referred the Wernethae, Firbolgs, Danaans, and Fomorians. Of these the settlements were probably various, and at various periods. The Belgians, who were a Gaulish stock, and having numerous settlements in England, were the principal among these. Their possession continued eighty yeai'S, in the form of a pentarchy, under the paramount government of one. At the end of the period here m'entioned, the island was invaded by the Tuath de Danaans and Fomorians, who overthrew the Belgians in a pitched battle, and made themselves masters of the whole country. ' Wart's AntiquRies. HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 33 The occupation of this race lasted one hundred and ninety-eight years. Their power was put an end to by the arrival of" the Scythian, or Scottish race, a thousand years before the Christian era. The frequent invasions of Spain, at this period, by the neighbouring Eastern nations, seems to account for the migration of this colony, which had been settled in the northern parts of Spain. A race, to which navigation was already known, and which had already been separated, by one migration, from the parent stock, was the more likely, under such circumstances as rendered their settlement insecure, to have recourse to the same means, for the attainment of a settle- ment more secure, beyond the reach of their persecutors. According to the most ancient records, collected in the ninth cen- tury, by the celebrated king of Munster, and corrected by a careful comparison of all the records and traditions then extant, it would appear, that the Spanish Celts, intent on discovering a new home, sent a chief to obtain intelligence as to the expedience and possibility of a descent on this island. The purpose of this envoy was discovered, and he was put to death ; on which the sons of Milesius, roused by resentment to decision, made extensive preparations, and effected the conquest of the country. From these the Scots of Ireland claim their descent. They were a race possessing the letters and civilization of their parent stock — a fact authenticated beyond question, by the letters, monuments, and even the legends of Irish antiquity, which are the remains of a civilized and lettered race. Of the various methods which might be used in confirmation of this, tlie most suitable to the cursory design of this essay, is that afforded by the industry of O'Conor, which we shall here g"ive, as it occurs in his work on Irish history. The earliest accounts of foreign nations (as illustrated by Sir Isaac Newton), compared with those of Ireland: — Foreign Testimonies. The Native Fileas. I. I. * An emigrant colony of Iberians, * The Iberian Scots, bordering from the borders of the Euxine and originally on the Euxine sea, were Caspian seas, settled anciently in expelled their country ; and, after Spain. various adventures, settled ultimately in Spain. II. II. f A colony of Spaniards, by the * Kinea Scuit (the Scots), and the name of Scots or Scythians, settled posterity of Ebre Scot (Iberian Scy- in Ireland, in the fourth age of the thians), were a colony of Spaniards, world. who settled in Ireland about a thou- sand years before Christ. III. III. X The Phoenicians, who first in- * The ancient Iberian Scots learned troduced letters and arts into Europe, the use of letters from a celebrated had an early commerce with the ibe- Phenias, from whom they took the nan Spaniards. name of Phenii, or Phoenicians. * Rudas ex Appian.in .^neid., lib. ix., * All the statements on this side, aJO nd ver. 682. from a very ancient Irish nianuscripL, •)■ Newton. Buchanan. % Strabo. called the Leiibar Gabdla. I. C Passing" over three other similarly compared statements, in which Newton's accounts are remarkably coincident with those of the old Irish historian, we come to the last, which has more especial refer- ence to the statement we have made : — In the days of the tirst Hercules, The conquest of Spain, together or Egyptian conqueror of Spain, a with a great drought, forced the Ibe- great drought parched up several rian Scuits, or Scots, to fly into Ire- countries. — Ncwlon. land Ogyg. Doniest., ^. 182. If the genuineness of the old Irish MSS. be allowed, and they are not disputed, these parallels require no comment ; but amount to proof, as certain as the records of history can afford, of the facts in which they agree. The only reply of which the argument admits, is, that Newton's accounts are drawn from the old Irish ; and this no one will presume to assert. In these old records of the Fileas, it is granted that there is a mix- ture of fiction ; but it is such as to be easily sifted away from the main line of consistent history which runs through the whole, with far more character of agreement with ancient writers, than the native records of any other existing nation. The fictions are connected by visible links, and ti'aeeable coincidences with the truth. In the tradition of the earliest kings or chiefs, under whatever de- nomination, much is manifestly fictitious; and, in some measure, im- parts a legendary character to the whole. But a consideration of the remote period, the simplicity of the records, and, generally, the absence of opposing traditions, confirms their claim to be regarded as authentic. We may indeed add, the general consent of the numerous learned antiquarians and critics who have laboriously investigated every doubt- ful point. The ancient Irish historians, upon authorities of which it is difficult to pronounce the true value, reckon a long line of kings, from Slaint^e, the son of Dcla, to Criomthan Madhnac, in the twelfth year of whose reign the Christian era is supposed to have commenced. Of these accounts it is not improbable, that much that is true forms the nucleus of much fiction, such as would be most likely to mingle itself, from a variety of causes, in the course of traditions handed down from generation to generation, and to be fixed in the form of records by the excusable credulity of their first compilers. But it would be an unpar- donable waste of time and exjiense, to encumber our pages with lives which, whetlier the persons ever lived or not, are manifestly overlaid with statements which cannot, in possibility, be authentic. Some emi- nent names among these are, however, liable to recur frequently in Irish history ; and are supposed to stand at the fountain-head of those politi- cal institutions and arrangements, which are among the most interesting facts of Irish antiquity. Of these a few may be considered as useful preliminaries to our first biographical period. In the year of the world 3082, Ollamh Fodla is represented as monarch of Ireland. He is said, with much reason, to have been the wisest and most virtuous of the Irish kings. The most useful laws and institutions, which can be traced in the historical records of the ancient Irish, are attributed to his profound design, and to the wisdom of his celebrated council, held in the ancient kingly seat of Tara. The account of this assembly is the following: — Ollamh Fodla, with HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 35 the natural forecast of a sao^acious legislator, and the zeal of a habi- tual student of antiquity, observed, that the records of his kingdom were in a state not likely to be durable- The honour of his illustri- ous ancestors — the events worthy of perpetual note, on which it was his pleasure to dwell — and the glorious name which it was his hope to transmit — all forbade the neglect of any longer leaving the records of his kingdom to the growing obscurity of tradition. To deliver to posterity a faithful digest of the known traditions of former time, and provide for its authentic continuation, he summoned the chiefs, priests, and poets of the nation, to meet in council at Tara. This assembly he rendered permanent. It was called Feis Fea- mhrach, and was to meet every third year. Their first business was to collect, clear from error, and digest into order, the mass of extant records and traditions of the kingdom. Next, they were to revise the laws ; and, by suitable additions, omission, and alteration, accommo- date them to the age. They carefully read over every ancient chron- icle, and erased any falsehoods they could detect. A law was agreed on, that any falsifier of history should be degraded from that assem- bly — be fined, imprisoned, and his works destroyed. With the assistance of this assembly, Ollamh regulated the differ- ent orders of rank amongst its members. He also made laws for the respect of their dignity, and protection of their persons. A still more important law was made for the protection of his female subjects, against the ungallant violence to which there appears to have been a national propensity in that remote ag-e. For this, the offender was to suffer a merited death; to ensure which the more effectually, Ollamh placed the crime beyond the reach of the royal prerogative to pardon. Keating, who has somewhat strang-ely fixed the meeting of this parliament before the comparatively modern festival of " All Saints," describes, with great minuteness of detail, the long but narrow apart- ment in the palace of Tara, where this parliament used to meet. Be- fore proceeding to business, they were entertained with a magnificent feast; in the description of which, the whole colouring and incidents are manifestly drawn from im.aginations filled with the pomps and splendours of British and Ein-opean customs in the middle ag-es. After the feast was removed, and the attendants withdrawn, the ancient records were introduced and discussed, as the annalist of the period would now describe it, " over their nuts and claret." From this assembly is deduced the ancient Psalter of Tara; which ancient record, says Keating, " is an invaluable treasure, and a most faithful collection of the Irish antiquities; and whatever account is delivered in any other writings, repugnant to this, is to be deemed of no autho- rity, and a direct imposition upon posterity." Ollamh Fodhla reigned, according to O'Conor, six hundred years before the Christian era. The events of his time cannot be consid- ered as within the compass of authentic history; yet his reign itself is sufficiently authenticated by the sure evidence of institutions. He was to Ireland the first legislator; and his name and character stand out from the surrounding obscurity, with the same clcai" and steady light which has preserved so many of the greater sages, heroes, and bards, of primitive times, to the veneration of all ages. The political constitution of the country, as settled in this reign, mav be g-enerally included under three heads: the institution of the Fes, or legislative assembly ; the enactment of a code of laws ; and the precise and orderly distribution of the orders of society. The classes were three : the nobility, the druids and learned men, and the com- mon peoj^le. In an age in which literature was still confined to a privileged class, it is easy at once to perceive the impossibility of long oreserving the balance required for the stability of any form of government. The main disadvantage, however, of this ancient con- stitution consisted in the crown being elective. Of this the conse- quence is noticed by O'Conor. " It is evident that such elections could seldom be made with sufficient moderation. Factions were formed; the prevalent party carried it; the losing party collected all their strength to set aside the monarch duly elected ; and accordingly most of our princes died with swords in their hands." It is, pei'haps, also not unimportant to observe, that the frame of government, thus described, is stamped with the authentic featui-es of the common type of primitive institutions. The system of a bal- anced combination of orders Is Itself, not to look further, a sufficient indication of a forward stage In the progress of civilization; and should the mere idea of such a system be found extant In really ancient records, or should It, with sufficient distinctness, be trace- able in old customs and traditions. It ceases to be worth the sceptic's while to contend. "But whatever," says Leland, "were the institu- tions of this monarch, It is acknowledged they soon proved too weak for the disorders of the time. To Kimbath, one of his successors, an- nalists give the honour of reviving them," after a long period of mis- rule. This work of renovation was still advanced by his successor Hugony, wlio divided tlie island into twenty-five dynasties. Three hundred and fifty-two years elapsed from the reign of Ollamh and some dozen kings, of whom many, by their adventures, as related by the ancient poets, might be classed with the " Three Calendars, Princes' Sons," and other heroes of Eastern poesy, followed each other over the bloody stage of an elective monarchy, the prize of arms — when Hugony, or Ugaine, a descendant of the royal line of Heremon, obtained the crown, by killing the reigning monarch, Reachta Rigdhearg ; and If precedent might be pleaded in its favour, the claim was legitimate. Of these murders, most might be represented as bearing the character of retributive justice : but Reachta had ascended the throne by the murder of a female sovereign, who is described as the delight of her subjects, and the terror of her enemies. Of this worthy lady It Is recorded that she beat the horses of Connor, king of Ulster, in a race, and was delivered of twins at the winning-post. Irritated by her sufferings, and by the cruelty which had forced or persuaded her to incur this trying risk, she cursed the men of Ulster, who were, in con- sequence, for many years afflicted with similar pains! Ugony strengthened the monarchy, by the Important measure of dividing' the kingdom Into provinces. The immediate disorders which led to this useful arrangement are not of any interest, further than the light their history might throw on Its necessity. But the history of 60 remote a period, with whatever degree of probability we may trace its outline, is by no means as clear in the details. The ancient poets re- late a story of the oppressive exactions of his twenty-five sons, which at length drew forth a strong remonstrance from his subjects. Whether to remedy this evil, as is said (or sung), or to facilitate the levy of taxes, Hugony assembled his council, and by their advice divided the king- dom into twenty-five provinces, which he divided among the princes. By this distribution the revenue was ascertained, the inferior juris- dictions controlled and limited, and the royal power entrenched against the undue preponderance of provincial princes. To measure truly the magnitude of such a change, it must be noticed, that it Avas a violent interference with the rights of the five powerful princes who had hitherto held the five provinces into which the island had been till then divided. But Hugony was a warlike monarch, and a conqueror by sea and land, and in his reign the powers of the monarchy seem to have been extended. Another feature curiously illustrative of the character and position of this monarch, was his attempt to set aside all rival claims, and to have the succession fixed in his own family. The attempt had the usual success ; it was easy to exact compliance, and impossible to carry into effect a law, which was to fix the bounds of lawless usurpation. In this instance, as in most such, the provision failed ; and on his death, the stream of succession soon regained its blood-stained and uncertain course. The learned institutions, lost during this long reign of disorder — during which the island is said to have narrowly escaped a Roman in- vasion — were revived in the reign of Concovac MacNessa, king of Ulster. Under tliis able prince a great step of improvement was gained in tlie regulation of judicial proceedings — now first fixed by written pleading and records. The laws, which had hitherto been administered on the arbitrary discretion of the bards, were now, at the instance of this ruler, compiled into a clear and equitable digest — triumphantly re- ceived by the people, and, in the poetical language of the age, called "celestial decisions." Neither this wise constitutional measm-e, nor the succession of many able rulers, could save the island from the frequent reverses, which our space must exclude. The next we shall mention is memorable for another remarkable alteration in the divisions of the monarcliy. He is also distinguished from those we have as yet noticed, by having reigned within the Christian era ; his claiui is further recommended by measures for the improvement of the national records. Tnatlial " made his way to the throne through a sea of blood, and esta- blished a new constitution on the ruins of a monarchical ohgarchy."* The historical importance of this monarch's reign is sufficient to de- mand a little more expansion than we should have thought necessary in any of the previous reigns. But the reader's attention is the more specially invited to the narration of incidents which explain many of those constantly recurring allusions to ancient institutions, winch per- plex the recital of most of our historians of the ensuing periods, and * O'Conor. Dissertations. encumber their historic style with a contusion and obscurity, which injue hut thti most attentive reader can unriddle. The restoration of the pentarchy quickly produced disorders similar to those which a similar oligarchy will be seen to have produced in later periods. The violence of competition, ever attendant on elective monarchies, grew in the Immediately preceding reigns to an enormous height, and the sufferings of the people became intolerable. Cairbre Catean overturned the government and for a time held the sceptre with a despotic grasp. His death only renewed the sanguinary con- tention for power. The provincial kings set up the tyrant Ellm, through whom they jointly oppressed the land. Sufferance had reached its limit: — the inferior chiefs who shared in the oppressions of the people, excited and gave direction to their resentment. They sent an invitation to Tuathal, in Scotland, where he had grown to maturity, and received a careful education, his mother Elthne, having been daughter to the Scottish king. Tuathal consented, came over, and, after a sanguinary struggle, obtained the throne of his ancestors. His first act was the convention of the council of the nation, and obtaining a law to secure himself by the exclusion of other families. He remedied the grievances of an oppressive oligarchy, by an expedient which Increased his own power, and weakened that of the formidable Five: taking from each a large district, he united the portions thus secured into a province lor himself — a measure which insured a considerable increase of wealth and power to the monarchy. He established in each of these an administrative centre for the transaction of the several departments of his government: — Religion at Tlachtga* near Dro- gheda; Internal commerce at Usneach in the county of Westmeath; at the palace of Tailtean, matrimonial alliances, from which, there is reason to think, he drew a considerable tax ; Tara was the place for the great assembly of the Fes. Tuathal, by his marriage with a daughter of the king of Finland, commenced or continued the Intercourse of this island with the northern races who inhabited the Baltic coasts. This marriage led to an Increased Intercourse, and to subsequent alliances which were, at a remote period, to terminate In a long and ruinous struggle, under which the power of the monarchy, and the civilization of the country, were to sink into ruin, and nearly into oblivion. The imposition of the celebrated Boromean tribute gives Tuathal another claim on historic recollection. It is said to have been exacted from the province of Leinster, as an atonement for the death of his two daughters, who lost their lives In consequence of the most brutal insult from the king of Leinster. As the story runs, this provincial king being married to Darine, one of Tuathai's daughters, pretended that she was dead, and thus obtained possession of the other, whose name was Fithir. When Flthlr arrived at the palace of Eochaldh, she was struck with consternation by the appearance of her sister Darine: the sisters at once discovered the dishonour and injury they had each sustained, and their grief was sufficient to put an end to Tliis was the jilace where the sacred fire was kindleti. HISTOEICAL INTRODUCTION. 39 their lives. Tuathal levied his forces, and representing- the baseness of" Eochaidh's conduct, to the other princes, a universal sense of indig- nation was excited ; and so numerous was the army thus obtained, that the king of Leinster submitted, and entreated to be allowed to com- promise the matter. Tuathal, either having the peace of his kingdom at heart, or as is far more likely, a prudent disposition to avail himself of evei'y occasion for the furtherance of his scheme of political ag- grandizement, consented to withdraAv his army, on obtaining a pledge of consent from the king and people of Leinster, to pay a stipulated tribute every second year, to him and his successors for ever. The proposal was agreed to, and the tribute appointed was as follows, in the words of an old poet : — " To Tuathal and the monarch's after him : Threescore hundred of the fairest cows, And threescore hundred ounces of pure silver, An() threescore hundred mantles, riclilv woven. And threescore hundred of tiie fattest hogs. And threescore hundreil of the largest sheep. And tiireescore hundred cauldrons, strong and polished." This tax was known by the name of Boroimhe Laighean (the tribute of Leinster), and is said to have been paid to forty Irish monarchs, from Tuathal to Fianactha. Tuathal caused a general revision of the annals of the monarchy, with a view to amend the errors which had latterly been supposed to have been caused by the unconstitutional influence of the provincial oligarchy, who had so long kept the nation in disorder. Such a solemn act was also necessary for the purpose of fixing their authority, and might be considered as supplying, in a minor degree, the evidence imparted to religious documents, by the solemn publicity of a regular perusal, in the presence of the people, at stated times and places. Amongst other wise public measures, Tuathal is. said to have con- trived the important arrangement of classifying the mjechanics of the country into companies, governed by their committees, and, as nearly as possible, resembling the corporate institutions of modern burghs. * This great monarch was, with the common fate of his predecessors, slain by Mail, who succeeded. It is not our design to pursue the long line of princes who fol- lowed, to the introduction of Christianity, but simply to note, as we glance down this long line, such traditions as may be useful for the understanding of Irish history, or interesting to reasonable curiosity. From Rosa, the eldest son of Cathaoir More, is said to be traced the family of O'Connor Faly, or Failghe. Many other well known Irish families are similarly traced from the same stock. Concerning these old genealogies, we cannot pretend to have had either the means or the will to trace them: we see, however, no sound reason for throwing a doubt on them. We are yet inclined to think that, like all our ancient records, while they are in the main not false, they have yet been subject to the singularly fantastic freaks of Irish enthu- siasm and fancy. Conn of the hundred battles, reigned, fought his hundred fights. and was assassinated early in the second century ; his reign is, how- ever, rendered memorable by a territorial arrangement, which long continues to be a subject of allusion in Irish history. A war arose between Modha Nuagat, and some other princes, for the throne of Munster. Of these latter, one named Aongus, applied for aid to the monarch Conn. Conn complied, and supplied the prince with 15,000 men; but the laurels won in ninety battles, were torn from his brow in ten sanguinary defeats, and In the course of this dreadful war, the conqueror Modha obtained possession of half the kingdom. From this conquest, the southern portion of the country still retains a title from the conqueror's name. His acquisition became the basis of a regular partition, of the boundaries of which we are happily enabled to transcribe an interesting account, from the most intelligent mind, and graphic pen, that has ever attempted to sketch the localities of Ireland. " Proceeding onwards for a mile or two, from Clonard, the road reaches a long continuous line of gravel hills, along which it runs for a considerable distance, and which is, perhaps, one of the oldest lines of road in Europe. These long lines of gravel hills are, all through Ireland, called aisgirs, or properly eirscirs ; this one is that which formed, in ancient times, the grand division of Ireland. I thiiH FixLiATU and Flann-Sionna. From that conquering * Key. Cesar Otway. prince, his present majesty is descended, in the thirty-first generation, as appears by the following authentic table. — A. D. Margery Robert Stuart II 1370 Robert Stuart III 1395 James 1-106 James 1437 James 1460 James 1488 James 1514 Mary 1542 James 1565 Elizabeth Sophia George 1 1714 George II 1727 Frederick, Prince of Wales George III I76U" Kineth 1 850 Constantine 862 Donald 895 Malcolm 1 946 Kineth 971 Malcolm II 1004 Beatrix Donchad, R. S 1034 Malcolm III. R. S 1058 David, R. S 1125 Henry, Earl of Huntingdon and Prince of Scotland David, Earl of Huntingdon Isabel, Countess of Annandale.. Robert Bruce, Earl of Carrick and Lord of Annandale Robert 1 1306 JVute to O'CoJwrs Dissertations on Ireland. Cairbre also founded another principality, under the name of Dal- riada, in the county of Antrim, and, for some descents, his posterity succeeded to both. For a time, the Scottish colony was broken, by the military successes of the Pictish inhabitants of the neighbouring lowland districts; but, in the beginning of the 6th century, they regained their independence, with an increase of prosperity, and ob- tained the sovereignty of North Britain. From this period till the eleventh century, the line of Dalriadic princes continued to fill the Scottish throne. We must, in this summary, claim the excuse of some needful economy of the space at our command for the omission of numerous details, as we have thought it expedient to compress into these introductory sketches so much of the earlier annals as might appear too doubtfully authenticated, or of too little interest for distinct biographical memoirs. The next of these ancient names which seems to claim a passing notice, is Oilioll, king of Munster. He is entitled to recollection as the founder of that singular law, so well adapted to promote endless liti- gation, the rule of alternate succession to the crown of Munster, pre- served for many centuries, and the cause of much woe to Ireland. Of the adventures of Oilioll, in peace and war, many strange tales are told; but when all is deducted from these which must be referred to poetry, there is but little to swell the memoir of a monarch, the most eventful of whose actions is the last: the will, which bequeathed intrigue for power, contest, enmlation, and expectancy, to his remote descendants. Oilioll was a poet, and the author of some verses, which Keating calls pathetic, but which, in the version of his translator, might more truly be called burlesque. Oilioll had his name, according to some old writers, from certain deformities, of which the account is simply absurd, yet may be considered, in some degree, as giving a reflection of the manners and morals of the period : a species of infor- mation to be gleaned from the chai'acteristic spirit of all these fictions. 42 EARLY. A lady, who had suiFered from Oilioll the deepest injury a modest female cau suffer, obtained satisfaction for the outrage, by biting off" the royal ear, while Oilioll slept. Oilioll, roused by the pain, started up, and seizing on a spear, struck it throug-h the unfortunate lady with such force, that he bent the point against a stone. Drawing foi-th the spear from the writhing victim of his worst passions, he very composedly at- tempted to straighten its point between his teeth : the spear had been poisoued, and the effect was to blacken his teeth and corrupt his breath. The following Is the history of the famous will. OllloU's eldest son was slain In battle, on which he devised his throne of Munster to Cormac Cas, the second. Shortly after, the widow of the eldest (Eogan More) brought forth a son, who, in the direct course of de- scent, was the next rightful heir. Oilioll, unwilling, perhaps, to dis- appoint altogether the expectations which he had, by his will, excited in Cormac, and equally reluctant to disinherit the posterity of his eldest son, altered his will to meet this embarrassment. By the new arrangement, he settled, that Cormac should, according to the pro- vision of the former will, enjoy the Munster sovereignty for life ; on his death, it was to pass to Flachadh Muilleathan, the son of Eogan More, or his next heir then living; and again, after the demise of Eogun or his heir, it was to revert to the lineal heir of Cormac, then living; after whose demise, it was to revert again to the living heir of Eogan's line ; and thus it was to pass from line to line In a per- petual succession of alternate remainders. There seems also to have been, in this will, a solemn injimction to the descendants of Oilioll, that the combination of royal families thus established, should preserve this alternate inheritance without quarrels or disputes. The fear which might have suggested this desire was but reasonable, but the event was scarcely to be looked for. So great was the reverence of his descendants for OUloll, that for some ages they continued to transmit the sovereignty in this alternate descent, without any con- test. The seeming improbability of this will be much diminished, by considering the powerful sanction which such rights must have de- rived, from the jealous guardianship and time-established feelings of two extensive and powerful families, thus held together from g-enera- tlon to generation by the same tie of honour and Interest. The same customary sense which entrenches the right of primogeniture, would. In the course of a few descents, equally guard the alternate right; and the indication of a desire to violate it, would be as shocking to the sense, as if a younger brother were to supplant the elder In his rig'hts. The violator of such a right would have to outbrave the in- famy of scattering discord between all the members of two strongly united houses, and defrauding a family of its honours. Such was the cause and nature of this circumstance, so Influential on the after course of Irish history. Of the posterity of Oilioll Olum, some highly interesting particu- lars are authenticated by the Industry of antiquaries. From Eogan More, the eldest, is lineally derived the MacCarthy's, of whom the earls of Clancarty are the immediate representatives. " Out of the wrecks of time and fortune," writes the venerable O' Conor in his Dissertations, " Donogh, the late earl of Clancarthy, had reserved in his family an estate of ten or twelve thousand pounds a-year ; a fnir possession of more than two thousand years' standing, the oldest perhaps in the world, but forfeited in the days of our fathers." From Cormac Cas, the second son, and first inheritor of Oilioll, descend the Dalcassian family, of which Brian Boroimhe, the conqueror of the field of Clontarf, is the most illustrious link, and the earls of Thomond the existing representatives in modern times. Of this branch, also, there is an affecting record belonging to the history of our own times. O'Conor mentions that Henry, "the late earl of Thomond, was head of this name, and descended, in twenty lineal generations, from Brian Boromy, king of Ireland in the year 1014. This nobleman left his estate, no inconsiderable one, but small in com- parison to the great possessions of his ancestors, to an English family ; alienated the tenure of fifteen hundred years, leaving his bare title only to O'Briau, lord Clare, now lieutenant-general in the service of his most Christian majesty." From Cian, the third son of Oilioll, have descended, amongst other families, the O'Haras, lords of Tyrawly, &c., and the O'Garas, lords of Coolavin, who forfeited their extensive possessions in the county of Sligo, in the troubles of 1641. We now arrive at a period in which several indications may be dis- covered of the advances of a higher civilization, and in which the first gleams of mental cultivation, tinged, doul)tless, with the extravagancies of a le.e;endary era, still shed an intellectual twilight of the day yet to dawn over the " Isle of Saints." Early in the third century, Cormac, the grandson of Conary the Second, ascended the throne. His character and acts are allowed to hold a place of the highest order among kings ; and in his reign it is not improbable that ancient Ireland had reached her maximum of national prosperity. The accounts, too, of his reign have all the authenticity which the knowledge and literature of his age could impart to its annals ; and it is a part of his glory to have provided for the preservation of history from the corruptions, which it was at that time peculiarly in danger of contracting, from its dangerous alliance with poetry. The bards were also the chief historians of the age, and in the execution of their office, did not always sufficiently preserve the distinction between the recording* and the celebration of an event. Hence, it has happened, that the most illustrious of our kings and heroes have had a veil of exaggeration thrown over their lives, which makes them im- press with a sense of incredulity, minds unversed save in a present order of things. Actions natural and consistent with the order of things to which they belonged, require now no help from poetic invention to give them the semblance of fiction : a little exaggeration is enough to impart a grotesque air to manners foreign to our habits, and render ridiculous, actions and opinions which a little more consideration, and a little more knowledge of antiquity, would have looked for as simply essential to the record. It is thus that the details of the life of this illustrious prince, and of his general, Fionn, are tinged with a colour- ing of which the sober-minded biographer would gladly divest them, were not the process fatal to all interest, and even to the moral jiiid social character of the person and his times. The annalist may evade the difficulty, and give to the dry and spiritless caput mortuum of a name and date, all the verisimilitude of an almanac ; but we are com- pelled to attempt at least the semblance of personality, and must not be false to our office because our heroes of reality have at times a strong resemblance to the heroes of romance. The ancient historians of his day relate the insult and injury sus- tained by Cormac, when he was expelled from Ulster, at the instiga- tion of Fergus, the monarch of Ireland, in 212; his resentment, and the prompt activity with which he formed pow^erful alliances, and col- lected an army to the field of Briigh macanoig. Having applied to a grandson of the famous Oilioll Olum, he received from him an as- surance of support, on the condition of a pledge to settle on him a tract of land, after he had gained his objects. Cormac agreed, and his ally made immediate preparations to assist him, with whatever force he could raise. He also advised Cormac to secure the assist- ance of Lughaidh Laga, who was reputed to be the greatest warrior of his day. Lughaidh appears to have been at the time leading a life of solitary concealment : but his retreat was known to Thady, who was grandson to Oilioll Olum, the brother of Lughaidh Laga. Lughaidh was a person of a gloomy, stern, and impracticable temper, of irre- sistible personal strength, and subject to fits of capricious and ungo- vernable fury. He had slain in battle. Art the father of oui- hero ; it was, therefore, a trial of self-command and courage, for a youth whose first appearance would seem to announce the presence of a foe, to face this moody man of violence in his savage retreat. By the directions of his new ally, Cormac entered the vicinity of Atharla, and with au anxious but steady heart threaded the forests and gloomy defiles around the base of the rugged Slieve Grott. He arrived at length at the lowly hut, where Lughaidh dwelt, apart from the ways of man. On entering, the first object which met his eye, was the gigantic frame of the redoubted warrior stretched across the floor : his stern and massive features were turned to the light, but he was asleep. Cormac's ready intellect perceived that the incident was favourable to his purpose; he gently touched the grim veteran with his lance. Lughaidh awaking, demanded who it was who presumed to disturb him with a freedom so insolent. Cormac told his name. As he must have anticipated, the impression was favourable. Lughaidh immediately observed, that Cormac might justly have slain him as he slept, in revenge for the death of his father. Cormac answered, that he thought something was due to him on that score, and that he came to seek his compensa- tion in the friendly alliance of Lughaidh, against his enemy, Fergus " The compensation which is your due," answered the warrior, " shall be the head of Fergus." Having thus come to a friendly understand ing, they proceeded together to Ely, where the preparations of Thady were now considerably advanced. The ancient bards describe, as poets will, the memorable battle of Criona chin Comar; and relate, with the circumstantial minuteness of accurate observation, the incidents, which it was impossible for them to have known with certainty But the main particulars are consistent with probability; and Cormac's known veneration for historic truth, HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 45 in some degree vouches for the main fidelity of the traditions of his lite. By the advice of Thady, Cormac stood upon a hill which overlooked the field, and saw the battle rage underneath, over the plain, without any advantage on either side for many hours. The desperate valour of Lughaidh at last tm-ned the fortune of the day: he slew the monarch Fergus, and his two brothers, and bore their heads in fero- cious exultation from the field. The victory was purchased with a heavy loss of men: the Ultonians, seven times compelled to give ground — each time still rallied, and came on again with the fierce impetuosity of desperation : but the valour of Lughaidh was not to be resisted, and Thady, at length breaking through their centre, pre- vented the possibility of repairing their scattered array. They soon gave way in the wild disorder of flight; and were pursued with tremendous slaughter from Criona to Glaise an Eara. Cormac, upon this event, possessed himself of the kingdom. We have here omitted a strange story of the stratagem of Cormac to avoid the first effect of Lughaidh's reckless ferocity, which, when his blood was heated, made him dangerous to friend and foe alike — how he disguised a servant in his own clothes, to receive the warrior each time when he emerged from the tumult to exhibit, as he slew them in succession, the heads of his enemies. Having first slain, as the tale runs, the two younger brothers, he fiercely asked of the supposed Cormac if the head which he exhibited were the head of Fergus, king of Ireland ; receiving a reply in the negative, he rushed again into the fight; but when, on his third return, the same question met with an affirmative reply, his insolent exultation could no longer be controlled : giving way to the fury of his heart, he flung the gory head at the servant, who was killed on the spot. Still less to be admitted is the story of a base and perfidious attempt of Cormac on the life of his effi- cient friend Thady. But true or false, the romance of his marriage with Eithne, the foster daughter of Buiciodh Brughach cannot be omitted. Buiciodh was a wealthy Leinster grazier, renowned for carrying the ancient Irish virtue of munificent hospitality to a height unknown in the palaces of kings. But with the generous imprudence which so commonly qualifies this virtue, his expenditure approached too nearly the limits of his fortune. His guests too, either conceiving his riches to be exhaustless, or, as is not unfrequently the feeling of the spend- thrift's guest, not thinking it necessary to spare one who never spared himself, gave him the most prompt assistance on the road to ruin: the Leinster gentry, not content with the free use and abuse of the most profuse hospitality, seldom left his habitation without carrying oti:" whatever they could take. The depaiture of the guest was not unlike the plunderer's retreat: the horses and herds of the good host were carried ofi", without even the trouble of asking leave. Buiciodh's vast wealth was soon exhausted by this double outlet, to which no fortune could be equal. Finding himself at last reduced to a state bordering on poverty, he retired privately from the scene of his past prosperity and splendour, with his wife, his foster child Eithne, and the noor remains of a princely fortune. Leaving home by night, he travelled until he came to a forest in Meath, not far from Cormae's palace. Here, in the resolution to pass his remaining days in peace- 46 EARLY. fill retirement from an ungrateful woi'lcl, lie built a small forest cabin for his small family. It chanced one day that Cormac rode in the direction of the sjDot ; and was attracted by the appearance of a cabin standing by itself in the solitude of forests. Approaching, he saw a young maiden of rare and consummate beauty milking the cows : as he stood concealed among the boughs, he observed, with admiration approaching to wonder, the grace of her action, and the neatness and skill with which she discharged her duty. Retiring with the milk, Eithne, for it was she, came forth again, and showed the same care and nice judgment in the execution of the remaining offices of her household occupation. Cormac now came forward, and with the prompt and facile adroitness which belonged to his character, calmed the fears of the startled maid, and entered into conversation on her rural employments. Pro- fessing ignorance and curiosity, he questioned her with an air of simple seriousness on the separation of thin milk and rich strippings, and was surprised at her preference of sound rushes to rotten, and clean water to brackish. In answer to his numerous questions. Eithne told him that her cares were given to one to whom she was bound by the ties of gratitude and duty : but when she mentioned the name of her foster father, Cormac at once remembered the princely herdsman of Leinster, and knew that Eithne, daughter of Dunluing, stood before him. The incident led to the usual termination of romantic story. Cormac married Eithne, and endowed Buiciodh with an ample territory near the palace of Tara, with plenty of cattle, and all other wealth of the age; so that, as Keating, in the true spirit of a story- teller, says, he was happy for the rest of his life. The civil history of Cormac's reign is marked by no great or sin- gular events, to distinguish it from the reigns of other ancient princes, whose names we have seen no sufficient reason to introduce: battles of policy and revenge occasion violations of evei-y moral law, and common incidents, attributed to miraculous agency, chequer the record in a fair proportion; but this prince is distinguished in our most ancient annals for the magnificence of his establishment, the taste which he displayed in the cultivation of learning and the arts, the wisdom of his laws, and the excellence of his writings. For wisdom and splendour he was the Solomon of Ireland : the magnificent palace of Miodh-chuarta,* which he built for his residence, and the works of moral and political wisdom which he left, appear to give aptness to * The tollovving curious notices will be read with some interest : — " Moidh-chuarta was the middle house of the palace of 'I'ara. The splendour of this palace is described in an old Irish poem, beginning Temhair 7ia righ Rath Chor- maic, Temor of kings, the seat of Cormac ; but lest this poem niiijht be considered a bardic forgery, we shall give the tollowmg extract from Johnston's translation of an old Scandinavian MS., the historical testimony of which must be received as unquestionable. In hoc regno etiam locus est Themor dictvs olim piimuria xtihs regiaqite series, §"c. , Sfc. Ill Edition (jvopiam Civitatis loco splendidnm et tantvm non Daedaleum Castellum Rex et intra Custelli septa. Palatium stiuctura et nitore superbum habuit ubi solebut litibus inc.olarum componevdis prceesse." — Ante Celt Scando, last page- In this lungdom, also, there is a place called Themor, formerly the chief city, and the royal residence, &c., &c. In a more elevated part of this city, the king had a splendid and almost Dsedalean HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 47 the parallel. An eminent poet of the period, describes, with the authority of an eye-witness, a structure of 300 cubits in length, 50 in breadth, and 30 in height, entered by 14 gates, and containing a vast and splendid hall, illuminated by an immense lanthorn of costly material and curious art, with sleeping apartments furnished with 150 beds. His household was worthy of this building: 150 of the most distinguished champions of the kingdom, surrounded his person, and 1050 of his best soldiers formed the guard of his palace and its precincts. On state occasions, his table was loaded with a rich and gorgeous service of cups and goblets of massive gold and silver. The superior officers of his household, according to established custom, were a judge, a druid, a physician, a poet, an antiquary, a musician, and three stewards. In addition to these, there was always a person of high accomplishments and noble birth, to be a companion to the monarch in his vacant hours. Amongst these may be distinguished some offices characteristic of the period. The druid was engaged in the duties and rites of religion; he offered sacrifices, and foretold events. The poet committed the deeds of famous men to verse, of which abundant specimens are yet preserved. The antiquary had still more important duties to perform : his care was to preserve and continue those genealo- gical tables of kings and their queens, which were then considered to be so important. It was also his office to correct and ascertain the pedigrees of the different orders, and register them in the public records. Under this monarch, the annals of the kingdom were elaborately revised. Three academies which he founded (it is said) in Tara, were severally assigned to the cultivation of law, literature, and mili- tary science. He was himself a bard, a lawyer, and pliilosopher ; of each of which capacities vmquestioned proofs remain, in fragments which have been preserved of his writings. During the reign of Cormac, the militai'y power of the kingdom seems to have attained its highest point of perfection, under the care of Fionn, his celebrated son-in-law, and the commander of his armies. As we cannot pass this celebra.ted warrior, who is equally renowned in fiction and authentic record, we shall reserve the history of the famous Irish militia for his memoir. Cormac is still more honourably distinguished for the profound capacity which, in the midst of a gross superstition, obtained views of a pure system of Theism: he would, probably, if not prevented by the course of events, have been the founder of a nobler system of theology, and more worthy of the Divine Being-, than the idolatrous polytheism of his druids. But the opposition raised by his attempts at the reformation of a creed, the source of power and profit to these pagan priests, was dangerous in its result: they, by their too predo- minant influence over minds by nature prone to superstition, raised a dangerous spirit of discontent among the chiefs, and involved his reign in war. His military operations were therefore numerous, but they wei-e castle, witliiii the precincts of which he had a splendid palace, superb in its struc- ture, where he was accustomed to preside in settling the disputes oi its inhabitants. — Dublin Penny Journal, pp. 213, and 231. successful. The Munster kings sustained many defeats from his forces. Connaug-ht also, and Ulster, gave him trouble, and experienced his superiority. The reign of Cormac continued for forty years, and is said to have owed its termination to his meeting with the loss of an eye, in some attack which was made upon his palace. The fact is explained by an ancient Irish law, according to which the throne of Ireland could not be held by a person who should happen to be defective in any of his members. This seems to receive some confirmation from a parallel regulation in the ancient customs of Persia. " In the law thus enforced," writes Mr Moore, " may be observed another instance, rather remarkable, of coincidence with the rules and customs of the East. In a like manner we read, in the Persian history, that the son of the monarch Kobad, having, by a similar accident, lost the use of an eye, was, in consequence, precluded, by an old law of the country, from all right of succession to the throne."* In consequence of this accident, he resigned the crown to Cairbre his son, and retired to pass the remainder of his days in a retirement made cheerful by literature, and famous by the works which the leisure of his age produced. Some of the writers who notice his life, assert that he was one of the first converts to Christianity. The grounds of this affirmation are not very satisfactory; though we should be inclined to conclude, from the very slight information which exists on the subject, that Christianity had obtained a precarious and difficult footing in Ireland during the first century of the Christian era; and we must admit that the tenets of Cormac's philosophy, were such as might lead to his conversion, or even lesulted from some previous and secret acquaintance with the sacred books. These were in the hig'hest degree likely to find their •way into the library of a literary monarch, whose fame was spread abroad among the most civilized countries of his age. Cormac, in his last retirement, wrote a volume of advice to his son. This, or its substance, epitomized by a later hand, still exists. The cast of the [.hraseology proves it to be vei'y ancient. The form of a dialogue between Cormac, son of Art, and his son Cairbre, is preserved; and the precepts are remarkable for their point, sententious brevity, and the characteristic tone of a primitive age and manners. We subjoin a specimen of extreme interest, translated from the original Irish by Mr O'Donovan. Of Cormac's Legal Essay, an imperfect copy remains in the library of the Dublin University: — " O grandson of Con ! O Cormac !" said Cairbre, " what is good for a king*?" " That is plain," said Cormac. " It is good for him to have patience without debate; self-government without anger; afiubility without haughtiness ; diligent attention to history ; strict observance of cove- nants and agreements ; strictness, mitig-ated by mercy, in the execution of the laws; peace with his districts; lawful wages of vassalage; jus- tice in decisions ; performance of promises ; hosting with justice ; pro- tection of his frontiers ; honouring the nemecls (nobles) ; respect to the JHeas; adoration of the great God. • History of Irehind. HISTOEICAL INTKODUCTION. 49 '' Boundless charity ; fruit upon trees ; fish in rivers ; fertile land ; to invite ships; to import valuable jewels across the sea; to purcnase and bestow raiment ; vigorous swordsmen for protecting' his territories ; war outside of his own territories ;* to attend the sick ; to discipline his soldiers; lawful possessions; let him suppress falsehood; let him suppress bad men; let him pass just judgments; let him criminate lying ; let him support each person ; let him love truth ; let him enforce fear; let him perfect peace; much of metheglin and wine; let him pronounce just judgments of light; let him speak all truth, for its through the truth of a king that God gives favourable seasons." " O grandson of Con! O Cormac!" said Cairbre, "what are the just laws of a king ?" " I shall relate to thee my knowledge of the law by which the world is governed : suppression of great evils ; destroying robbers ; exalta- tion of goodness ; prohibition of theft ; reconciliation of neighbours ; establishing peace ; keeping the laws ; not to suffer unjust law ; con- demning bad men ; giving liberty to good men ; protecting the just ; resti'icting the unjust," &c. Sec. " O grandson of Con ! O Cormac !" said Cairbre, " what is good for the welfare of a country?" " That is plain," said Cormac : " frequent convocation of sapient and good men to investigate its affairs, to abolish each evil, and retain each wholesome institution; to attend to the precepts of the elders; let every senad (assembly of the elders) be convened according to law ; let the law be in the hands of the nobles ; let chieftains be upright, and unwilling to oppress the poor; let peace and friendship reign — mercy and good morals — union and brotherly love; heroes without haughtiness — sternness to enemies, friendship to friends ; generous compensations; just sureties; just decisions, just witnesses; mild instruction; respect for soldiers; learning evei*y art and language; pleading with knowledge of the Fenechas (the Brehon law) ; decision with evidence ; giving alms, charity to the poor ; sureties for covenants ; lawful covenants ; to hearken to the instruction of the wise, to be deaf to the mob ; to purge the laws of the country of all their evils, &c. &c. All these are necessary for the welfare of a country." " O grandson of Con ! O Cormac !" said Cairbre, " what are the duties of a prince at a banquetting house?" " A prince on Saman's day (1st of November), should light his lamps, and welcome his guests with clapping of hands ; procure com- fortable seats ; the cup-bearers should be respectable, and active in the distribution of meat and drink ; let there be moderation of music ; short stories ; a welcoming countenance ;ym7^e for the learned; pleasant con- versations, &c. These are the duties of the prince, and the arrange- ments of the banquetting house." " For what qualifications is a king elected over countries, tribes, and pco^jle ?" " From the goodness of his shape and family ; from his experience and wisdom; from his prudence and magnanimity ; from his eloquence ; bravery in battle ; and from the numbers of his friends." ' Tigernosition thus ])ublicly and speciously expressed, stirred up much opposition. Nestorius took up the cause of his friend, and maintained the orthodoxy of his opinions, with grow- ing earnestness, and an eloquence which gave them additional noto- riety. The opposition of some monks at Constantinople was of still more effect, and the fury of the people was excited against the here- siarchs. Still their opinions received currency, and the controversy widened in its progress, until it soon occupied and divided the theo- logians of the fifth century. The council of Chalcedon, a. d. 451, while it distinctly affirmed the doctrine — now most universally i-eceived, and most clearly in accord- ance with holy writ — of the subsistence of the two distinct natures of (jrod and man, in one person; yet, with an inconsistency characteristic of the philosophising theology of the time, affirmed the orthodoxy of certain writers whose opinions were strongly tinctured with the oppo- site opinions of Nestorius. These were, the writings of Theodore of Mopsuestia, from which, it is not improbable, that the opinions o Nestorius were first imbibed; the works of Theodoret, defending the Nestorians against Cyril, bishop of Alexandria; and third, a letter from the bishop of Edessa, on the condemnation of Nestorius. These were the writings Avhich afterwards became the subject of contention, under the famous title of the Three Chapters. A controversy on the doctrines of Origen, in which the followers of these doctrines were condemned by an edict from the emperor Jus- tinian, was the proximate cause of the revival of this discussion in the following century Theodore, bishop of Cesarea, who belonged 70 EARLY. to the sect of the Monophysites,* and at the same time had adopted the opinions of Orlgen, stood high in the favour of Justinian. This emperor was anxiously bent on extirpating a particular branch of the Monophysites, who were called Acephali, and considted Theodore on the occasion. Theodore, anxious to divert the attention of this active and Interfering, but not very sagacious emperor, from the persecution of the Origenists, suggested that the Acephali would return to the church, on the condition that the acts of the council of Chalcedon, which affirmed the orthodoxy of the writings above described as the Three Chapters, should be cancelled ; and that other writings of the same authors, which tended to Nestorianism, should be condemned. The emperor consented, and the result was an edict to this effect, in the council of Constantinople, a. d. 553. That Ireland had heard the preaching of the Christian faith before the commencement of Patrick's ministry, seems to be a settled point among the writers on the ecclesiastical antiquities of the country. The assertion of Tertullian, that Christian preaching had made its way in the British isles where the Roman arms had never reached, would seem an assertion descriptive of Ireland. The mission of Palladius, " ad Scotos in Christo credentes," directly implies a Christian church in Ireland. Ancient writers, admitting this fact, have attempted to trace the first introduction of Christianity, and to ascertain its author. Such attempts have, however, failed to attain any satisfactory result. Various conjectures have been proposed by a host of writers, but Usher, whose learning and ability might well outweigh them all, has sifted their authorities and arguments, without better success than discovering the fallacy of their suppositions. Of these conjectures, the multitude is such, as, without further objection, of itself to cast doubt upon all. St .lames the son of Zebedee, Simon Zelotes, Simon Peter, St Paul, Aristobulus, mentioned in Rom. xvi. 10, with others, have all been proposed, and none ascertained by any evidences which are beyond the scope of bare possibility. It would here be inconsistent with our object to enter into the ocean of antiquarian citation and comment, which occupies many pages of Usher's most learned and ela- borate work on the first beginnings of the British churches. One of these conjectures has, however, met very general notice, as a topic of denial or affirmation among recent Inquirers. The assertion quoted from Marian, that St James preached the gospel in Spain, and to the nations of western regions, &c., is reflected with more precise affirmation by VIcentius, who says, that "James, by the will of God directed to the Irish coast, fearlessly preached the divine word."f On this Usher observes, that before the separate mission of the apostles, James was proved to have been j ut to death by order of Herod; and that other authors, whom Vinceiitius had followed, refer the same event, ex- pressed in the same language, not to Hibernia but to "Galaecia;" so * The Monophysites held, that in Christ the Divine and human nature were so entirely united, that they together constituted a single nature; yet this without any confusion or mixture, or change, sustained hy either. The Acephali were a sect of these, who took this title in consequence of having rejected their chief, Mongiis. of whose conduct they disapproved. f Ushtr, Primordia, p. 5. HISTORICAL INTEODUCTION. 71 that the high probability of a mistake, arising from a literal error, must have betrayed Vincentius to set down Ibernia for Iberia. We omit the fm'ther consideration of these obscure and vague conjectures: as to St Paul we may observe, that his history is too distinctly marked, in a work which is virtually the record of his life and actions, authenticated by whatever authority is conceded to the inspired writers, to allow of an episode so considerable and so obscure. It is enough to rest on the high probability, that, in the general mission which spread the gospel far and wide among all the nations of the known world, Ireland was not passed over ; and for this the autho- rities, though for the most part indirect or merely inferential, are satis- factory enough. The state of the Hibernian church was yet evidently at the lowest ; and probably on the point of yielding to the enmity which the gospel alone, of all the creeds entertained by man, seems to have elicited from human nature, in every age and climate. At the coming of St Patrick, four Christian jjreachers are mentioned by old Irish testi- monies to have been before him, and still living in his time. These were, Ailbe, afterwards first bishop of Emly ; Declan of Ardmore; Kieran of Saigre (by successive translation removed to Kilkenny); and Ibar of Beg: Eri, a small island of the Wexford coast. CHAPTER III. State of the Coiuitry on the arrival of the Norwegians — Traditions concerning their Origin — Authentic History — Religion — Earlier Connexions with England — With Ireland — Their Invasions during this Period. During the four centuries which elapsed from the death of St, Patrick, in the early part of the 5th century, to the middle of the 9th, Paganism had disappeared before the preaching of tlie illus- trious com|)any of holy men, not inappropriately called saints. Nu- merous monasteries and churches, though of a rude structure and mean materials covered the land ; and from these the whole of Europe received a light of Divine knowledge, which was not exceeded by the ministry of any other church. There was yet a wide and dark interval between the knowledge of the church and that of the secular classes ; which gives to the latter, as compared with the former, the character ol extreme barbarism : and, from this cause there is, in all that remains of the history and monuments of the time, a singular mixture of barbar- ism and refinement, which has had the eftect of casting doubt, diffi- culty, and varying- interpretation upon the whole. But the records, the literature, and the architectural remains, speak unequivocally as to the antiquities of the church, and, in a vast variety of instances, the uu • cient record is confirmed by the monument. The ancient fields of Glendaloch and Clonmacnoise, the venerable reniains of Kildare, and huudi'eds of other venerable ruins, confirm the legends and tradltitUiS 72 EARLY. of ancient time ; although the dwellings of civil strength, the homes of princes, the palaces of inonarchs, and the halls of ancient national power, have melted away, as the flesh is mouldered from the bones of other generations. The institutions of the couutry, partly the remains of a still more ancient state of things, partly of the self propagating and continuing property of all institutions, and perhaps in a greater measure of the diffusive counsel and influence of a national church, were not desti- tute of wisdom and civil efficacy to cont)-ol and regulate the move- ments of a barbaric race ; for, such were the chiefs and still moi'e the population of a country in which the chief pursuits were war and the chase, the homely and simple elements of the savage state- The re- mains of the ancient codes, the existence of which was long disputed, but which have now been placed out of doubt by the translations of Vallancey, O' Conor, and others, manifest beyond all question much legislative wisdom; and indicate, by their skill and by their peculiar structure, the exercise of much knowledge engaged in adapting legis- lation to a state of society seemingly more primitive and rude than such knowledge seems to imply. The ports of Ireland were as dis- tinguished by commercial resort, as her church by superior endow- ments in holiness and wisdom. The arts were cultivated ; and, though imperfect and barbaric, yet in a state of advance which undeniably attests a considerable degree of progress in civilization. This state of things was, howevei", to be interrupted by a new^ suc- cession of changes from without, which were thenceforward to follow each other with an increasing force and extent, without any inter- mission, until they reduced this island to a sad but singular example of the combined effect of all the disastrous causes which contribute to the decay of nations. We have already observed* the peculiarity arising from geogra- phical position, by which, while this island was protected from the vast and sweeping wave of universal movement by which the ancient structure of society was overthrown ; it was, at the same time, exposed to those minor eddies of the same wave, which found their way through the channel of navigation and commerce. Instead of the invading horde, of which the columns extended through provinces, and which have been described as drinking up the rivers on their desolating- march, the pc)rts of Ireland, from time to time, through a long period, continued to be visited by the seafaring Phoenician, and next by the Northern adventurer; and was thus successively, as long as tradi- tion can trace back, the resort of trade or invasion, each, in its turn, limited by the scanty resources of the nautical science of those periods. Of such communications the effects must have needs been slow in progress, and partial in extent. The changes of manner and opinion introduced, must have blended themselves slowly with the ancient fabric of custom ; and conqueror or colonist must be supposed to have acquired at least as much as they can have communicated. From such a course, little effect of any kind might seem to be deriva- ble; but the inference is different when we refer to the operation of * First Chaptpr. HISTOEICAL INTRODUCTION. 73 the continued state of strife, terror, and insecurity now to be described. This unhappy result is mainly to be traced to the invasions of the Scandinavian pirates, who, for so many centuries, continued to make oiu' shores a principal resort. Some account of these will, therefore, form an appropriate preface to a period chiefly memorable for their actions. Among the different races who are known, or supposed, to have at any period found their way to this island, none have a more decided claim on our notice, than the people now known by the common appellation of Danes. For ages the chief occupants of the surrounding seas, and traders to our ports — ^they became at last a larg'e integral portion of our population, and continued to maintain a doubtful strugg-le, of various success, for the possession of the supremacy of the land, until they were ultimately subdued and blended with the native population, under the ascendancy of more powerful invaders. During the whole of this period, their history takes the lead of that of the native races, with whose manners and monuments their remains are still inextricably blended. Danish Antiquity. — Of the northern nations which exercised so large an influence on the destinies of the Roman empire, the know- ledge of the most accurate of the Roman historians was confused and conjectural. Of the mingled races which composed the population of their British, German, and Gaulish territories, their knowledge was more inadequate still. In these, the various tribes of Goth and Celt, became variously mixed up, and successive migrations, which, as they poured on through a long period of ages, found kindred still, and the remembrances of common custom. The elements of language, the ancient traditions, the mythological system: the only materials (such as they are) of a more accurate knowledge were beyond their reach. They only knew them as the tempest is known by the point of the compass, from which it carries menace and devastation ; they were barbarians from the unexplored climates of the north. Thus the Celt, Goth, and Tartar are confused ; and Zosimus, a writer of the third century, calls all by the common name of Scythian. The ancestors of this race soon extended their conquests, and branched into widely spreading affinities, and into nations confused under many names ; and to find the clue of probable tradition, we must look chiefly to the natives themselves. The northern historians go no farther back than the descent of Odin, who, about 70 years before the Christian era,* led from Asia a power- ful tribe of the Indo-Scytlilan race, and expelled the ancient inhabi- tants of the shores of the Baltic. From this period the history of the Scandinavians assumes a form such as belongs to the earliest periods of the records of nations — that is to say, Imperfect, conjectural, and legendary : overlaid with superstitions and visionary genealogies. The earliest historian who is entitled to be named in our summary notice, is Saxo Grammaticus,f whose name is familiar to the reader, as occui'ring in every English history : Saxo carries back the history of the Danish kings to a period far beyond the range of probability. * Torfaeus. Mallet. I Saxo was culled Grammaticus from his learning: he lived in the 12th century. 74 EARLY. Ills materials were the hymns of the bards, in which they sung the praises, and narrated the exploits, of their leaders and heroes ; secondly, from ancient inscriptions on the rocks, which are still discovered in the north, as, indeed, they are in every ancient country ; and last, from the Icelandic chronicles, and the accounts he received from native scholars. It will be needless here to dwell on the objections to these sources. The Icelandic chronicles, which are by far the least affected by defect and corruption, are, to a comparatively recent period, little worthy of trust : largely alloyed with poetic alleg-ory, and mythological marvel, they cannot be said to commence till after the establishment of Christianity in those northern regions. According to this statement, a long and dark chasm separates the time of Odin from the period of trustworthy history (about eleven centuries). This long interval is filled up by tradition, and the songs of the Scalds. We should not pass on without a few words to gratify the curiosity of oui' reader, as to the importance here assigned to an island apparently so obscure and isolated as Iceland. This island, made additionally interesting to the Irish antiquary by the traditions and ancient remains which indicate, unquestionably, an early communica- tion with Ireland, was early famous for the cultivation of History and Poetry: the former perhaps consequent on the latter, and both prac- tised by a class known by the name of Scalds. The islanders are said to have been a colony from Norway, who, late in the 9th century, fled from the tyranny of Harold Harfagre ; and who still continued to hold intercom-se with their parent land. Among these, in the quiet seclu- sion of their island, it seems probable that the arts then existing should flourish, and that records collected from tradition should assume some- thing of a permanent form. Their History On the first period of the history of these nations, there does not appear much difference. The main incidents of Odin's life are tolerably certain, and derive some confirmation from their con- nexion with the authentic history of Rome in the time of Julius Caisar. A few years before the birth of Christ, Mithridates, the king of Pontus (now Georgia), pursued by the victorious legions of Pompey, had contrived to rouse to arms against his invader, the numerous and formidable races who inhabited the surrounding districts of Armenia, Cappadocia, Iberia, and other Persian provinces, forming the frontier between it and Scythia. The alliance was, however, unequal to resist the ascendance of the Roman arms; Mithridates was slain, and the tribes which had espoused his fortune were subjected to the law of conquest. From this calamity, however, multitudes withdrew towards the more impenetrable regions of Scythia. Of these fugitives, we are told by Snorro the earliest historian of Norway, Odin, whose name was originally Sigge, was a leader. Desirous to place himself and his fol- lowers, beyond the far extending grasp of Roman conquest, he led his army away into the northern regions of Europe, subduing on his march the earlier inhabitants, and settling on his sons the difi"erent kingdoms thus acquired. Having thus effected settlements in Saxony, West- phalia, Franconia, and part of Russia, he went on into the realms of fccandiuavia, and conquering wherever he went, obtained and settled in like manner the sovereignty of Sweden, Denmark, and Norway, Having- acquired absolute dominion over these countries, he intro- duced the laws and religion of his own country; and having himself assumed the name of its chief god, Woden or Odin, he received divine honours from all the surrounding princes. These arrangements being fully completed, he perceived symptoms of the approach of death, but resolving not to die by a lingering disease, and desirous to crown his achievements by a heroic example, he assembled his sons and followers, and in their presence inflicted on himself nine wounds in the form of a circle. While dying he told them that he was returning into Scythia, to assume his place at the eternal banquet of the gods, where he would receive with honour the brave who should fall in the ranks of war. This statement could be confirmed from many indirect authorities and coincidences, with which the Icelandic annalists could not have been acquainted. Travellers of modern times have frequently re- marked and described the close resemblances long preserved between the manners and customs of Norway and Sweden, and those of the Georgians. Such agreements are in their nature transient, but the antiquities of both countries present abundant and distinct confirma- tions. If, however, this link of descent be admitted, on the ground of the general consent of historians : the next, when we state the dogmas of their religion, will present itself unlocked for to the reader of English history in its most accessible forms: the coincidence between the ancient Danish and Anglo-Saxon creeds is unquestioned: the romance of Icanhoe must have made it universally known to all readers. In the simplicity of the primitive structures of society, the manners and institutions of nations were either largely modified by their religious notions, or entirely formed from them; and to this latter class may be referred the manners and institutions of the Danes and Saxons. The history of their gods, and the description of their notions of worship, will aftbrd the clearest ideas of the people them- selves. Religion. — Their mythology, devised by the policy of their warlike leader, had for its main object to create a nation of warriors, bound by a religious veneration to their founder's race, enthusiastic in their love of war, and prodigal of their blood. It was necessarily built on their primitive Persian creed, and naturally ornamented by Eastern imagination. Of such a system, the gods were Odin and his sons, Thor, &c., with other inferior divinities. The most pleasing sacrifice to these was the death of an enemy, and their altar was the field of battle. To die in peace, by a natural death, was considered by them as the worst of evil and disg'race, and they who fell in battle, accord- ing to the institution of Odin, were conducted by the Dysee to their heaven Valhalla, where the fortunate spirits of the brave passed their mornings in the stormy delights of a fierce and bloody fight, in which they enjoyed, in superhuman perfection, the luxury of being cut to pieces. The body thus dismembered, came together again in a state of perfect health, and with an excellent appetite for supper — the next great reward and pleasure of the brave. At this meal they passed the afternoon and night, feasting on the boar Serimner, who having thus b< en, like his eaters, cut piecemeal, and passed through the added 76 EAELY. delights of mastication and digestion, was like them also whole, and fresh as ever for the chase and revel of the following day. The im- mortal diet was washed down by endless draughts of mead, milked from a she-goat, in sufficient quantity to make them ^11 dead drunk. This they drank out of the skulls of their enemies. This state was to continue until, at some period in remote futurity, the powers of evil, led on by the dreadful giant Lok, were to prevail over the gods of Valhalla: a notion which will remind the reader of the similar feature of Indian mythology, brought out into such vivid and startling effect by Mr South ey, in his Curse of Kehaina. In strict keeping with the same impressive mythology, in which the innate superstition of the mind is touched on its deepest chord, by the mysterious impression of Fate brooding with terrihc indistinctness in the dark distance of futurity, the gods of Valhalla knew their doom from oracles ; and not being able to avert it, they exerted their power over its instrumental agents, the children of Lok, by consigning them to places of imprison- ment, from which they should not escape for ages. Of these places, the most graphic description we have met, is from Mr Southey's account of the religion of the Danes; these we shall present to our reader in his language : — " This Loke had three dreadful offspring by a giantess. The wolf Fenris was one, the Great Serpent was the second, and Hela, or Death, the third." •' Hela he placed in Rifleheim, and appointed her to govern the nine dolorous worlds, to which all who die of sickness or old age are fated. Grief is her hall and Famine her table, Hunger her knife. Delay and Slackness her servants, Faintness her porch, and Precipice her gate ; Cursing and Howling are her tent, and her bed is Sickness and Pain. The Great Serpent he threw into the middle of the ocean ; but there the monster grew till, with his length, he encompassed the whole globe of the earth. The wolf Fem-is they bred up for a while among them, and then by treachery bound him in an enchanted chain, fastened it to a rock, and sunk him deep in the earth. The gods also imprisoned Loke in a cavern, and suspended a snake over his head, whose venom fell drop by drop upon his face. The deceit and cruelty which the gods used against this race could not, however, change that order of events which the oracles had foretold; that dreadful time, which is called the twilight of the gods, must at length arise. Loke and the wolf Fenris will then break loose, and, with the Great Serpent, and the Giants of the frost, and Surtur with his fiery sword, and all the powers of Muspelheim, pass over the bridge of heaven, which will break beneath them. The gods and all the heroes of Valhalla will give them battle. 'Ihor, the strongest of the race of Odin, will slay the great serpent, but be himself suffocated by the floods of poison which the monster vomits fox"th. Loke and Hiem- dale will kill each other. The wolf Fenris, after devouring the sun, will devour Odin also, and himself be rent in pieces by Vidac, the son of Odin ; and Surtur with his fires will consume the whole world — gods, heroes, and men, perishing in the conflagration. Another and a bet- ter earth will afterwards arise — another sun, other gods, and a hap- pier race of men." Such is a summary but correct outline of the Danish mythology. Among its practical tenets, the reader will have been struck by one which appears the same in principle with that peculiar tenet of the Koran, which once gave its fearful edge ot power to the desolating fanaticism of the Turkish hordes. The creed which held forth a state of perfect enjoyment according to the tastea and passions of its believers, as the exclusive reward of those who died in battle, and appended the penalty of its hell to a peaceful death, was the efficient principle of a barbarian valour, scarcely to be resisted by those who regarded life as a certain good and death as an evil. The Dane looked on a peaceful death as the greatest evil, and sought to obviate its dreadful consequences by a voluntary and violent death. " A bay In Sweden," writes Mr Southey, " surrounded by higli rocks, which was one of the places frequented for this purpose. Is still called the hall of Odin." Such was the mythology which may be traced, with some slight modifications, in the early history of the Saxon and Scandinavian races. If we compare the Incidents of their history, with those of the antiquity of the Irish race, we are met by remarkable coincidences and contrasts. On this point, before proceeding further, we think it right to remark, that AvhUe we agree with those writers who have found, in the differences between the ancient Celtic and these northern superstitions, the most Intelllg-ible marks of a different origin, we are yet Inclined to receive the Inference with much quali- fication. In both we apprehend that the characters of an earlier com- mon origin are sufficiently plain. The Celts appear to have retained in a purer form the elementary superstitions of the East, which the Goths overlaid with the structure of a political system, of which the beginnings can be discerned in the institutions of a warlike settlement, and of which the legendary additions of Scaldic poetry, was the suc- cessive growth from the g-enlus and superstitions of after ages. While the creed of the Celt, retaining the characters of primeval idolatry, can point by point be compared with the mythology and ritual of ancient Persia, that of the Scandinavian Is with still greater ease traceable to the deification of its founder and his sons, with the laws and customs which their inventors chose to clothe in the more per- manent garb of a religion. While the Celts adored the celestial luminaries, and either worshipped or regarded as sacred the element of fire, attached a solemn and Impervious mystery to their sacred rites, and adopted the refined Eastern creed of absorption or transmigration ; the Scandinavian, more physical In his mythology, and more strictly adapting his notions of human destination to the grosser purpose and policy of this life, devised a religion more practical and conformable to human pursuits and duties, hopes, fears, and desires. Their chief gods were thus. In the first place, the sun and moon, remains of a more primitive belief; to these were added the later elements of this more peculiar superstition, less elemental and refined, and yet not present- ing less awful and magnificent images to the Imagination. The remains and traditions from which the earliest conjectures can be formed of the inhabitants of Ireland antecedent to the First Period of our history — seem to Indicate a combination of the Scythian mingled with some former race. And it is not improbable that a colony of the ancestors of the Danes were, in some simpler stage of their national state, blended with the primitive Irish: leaving thus the 78 EARLY. customs and remains which actually seem to indicate such a combina- tion. " The fertile Erin," says a northern writer, " was long the great resort of the Scandinavians."* Lochlin, the Celtic name of Scandinavia, by which it is so often named in the remains of Scottish and Irish poetry — seems to afErm such an intimacy to have existed. The poems ot Ossian or Macpherson (to the point in question, it is indilFerent which, as the ground is unquestionably Irish), and Highland tradition and poetry, strongly corroborate the supposition ; to this is to be added the general consent of the earliest traditions : and lastly, the opinion of the most industrious and informed writers, who have given their time and thoughts to this class of investigations. The Scandinavian legends contain as distinct affirmations of the fact of this early intej'course, as the legends and ancient annals of Ireland ; and while in a former chapter Ave were engaged in the view of remains wJiich seemed to confirm the traditions of an Eastern origin and a PhcEuician intercourse, we were lost in every direction among monuments of nearly equal antiquity, which seem, with not inferior evidence, to indicate the intermixture of a northern race. The mysteries of the Edda seem to have left their traces among- the tracks of the Oriental worshippers of the Sabean creed, and — having perhaps clashed among- the sects of times antecedent to distinct tradition — to have left remains equally to perplex the faith and embroil the creeds of antiquarian scholars and theorists. This, indeed, is one of the main difficulties of Irish antiquity : the heterogeneous cha- racter of its indications not only suggest and support the spirit of con- troversy, but, what is far worse, supply, in a very unusual degree, ma- terial for tlie most contradictory theories. Whether or not the Loch- landers were the same Danish race who, in the 8th century, became so formidable to the British isles, may be a difficult, and is perhaps a trifling question; but there is no doubt that it designated some northern race in the earliest traditions of Ireland. To prove that these were the Danes many ancient authorities have been advanced; but these are justly affirmed to be simply the copyists of a single writer, himself not to be respected as an authority.f In a previous part of this volume, we have already intimated our belief, formed on the perusal of various and opposing writers, that the peculiarities of disagreement, on the evidence of which they have inferred generic distinctions, in reality, but indicate the branchings of separation in the pedigree of nations ; while the analogies and agreements, many of which can neither be referred to accident nor resolved in any gene- ral law of nature, must (unless by the abandonment of all grounds of investigation) be admitted as derived from the same original source. And before leaving the subject, we cannot refrain from observing, that amongst the writers who have expressly engaged in inquiries upon this difficult and obscure subject, hy far the greater number, if not all, seem to be embarrassed by a false assumption, either expressed or understood, which has had the effect of imparting a fallacy to their speculations, and embarrassed them in needless difficulties. To state this distinctly might require a wider digression than we can hcsre afford. The learned antiquary too often appears to labour under au * Cited by Mr Moore. f Saxo Granimalicus. HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. . 79 impression, that he must attain the objects of his inquiry, only by such reasons and authorities as may not be irreconcilable with the specu- lations and theories of philosophers, whose reasonings are grounded in denials of authority, and lead to no conclusion. There appears to be established a tacit consent that nothing is to be admitted but re- condite and unsettled authorities: and nothing concluded inconsistent with unascertained theories. The very Chi'istian divine, who in his pulpit stands upon the authority of the inspired writings as the im- movable basis of Divine truth, fixed as the foundations of the universe, but too often labours under the gross inconsistency of imagining, that in questions of ancient history, this one onlij une.vceptionahly authentic basis of such questions is to be thrown overboard in deference to in- quirers, to whom least of all is due on the score of soundness or know- ledge; and appears to have taken for granted, that the accounts which are true in subjects of religion, might be questionable in history. In consequence of this most rash and unjustifiable fallacy, it has become customary amongst modern inquirers to pursue their speculations either in direct or indirect opposition to two fundamental facts, which are the only certain and tangible first principles of ancient history. These are, first, that all races of mankind are from one race, whose descent and first divisions are recorded with a certainty as unerring as the reigns of the lines of Tudor, Stewart, and Hanover; and secondly, that all creeds and old mythologies have their foundations in one original religion, and are but variously modified branches of the same errors. From the neglect of these princijjles has arisen the confusion of opinions, and the contradictory language and reasoning of writers, upon the various questioiis which we have been oblig-ed to touch upon in this volume far too glancingly for the difficult and per- plexed nature of this subject of national antiquity. We shall therefore, we trust, be excused if we endeavour briefly to explain the application of these two fundamental data. If we set out with the assumption of the truth of the Pentateuch, a rule of reason presents itself, which is verified by all that is authentic fact in the history of nations : and by this ride the most perplexing confusion of indications becomes simply ex- plicable, and the learned gentlemen who pelt each other with misplaced monuments, and confute each other in very g'ood Gothic, Celtic, or Phoenician, may shake hands, and be reconciled in the confidence of a common ancestry. Descended from a common origin in the East, the different races of mankind, as earlier periods of their history are ap- proached, present common characters to the inquirer. Descending along the stream of ages, as new customs and varied elements of civi- lization are acquired from the accidents of locality and the varying- circumstances and combinations which time brings forth, wide diver- sities of national character become developed, so far difi'erent as to justify the cursory Inquirer in a notion of a total difi'erence of origin and descent; while, at the same time, the remains of aboriginal cus- tom, tradition, mythology, and language, can be traced; and transfor- mations, wide in proportion as time and circumstances tend to vary them, remain to present the materials of discussion and theory. From these remains, on a partial view, it is evident how false inferences may be drawn, as to the immediate connexion between any two races of a common stock, which may chance to become subjects of inquiry. Hence one vast source of uncertainty. Hence the remoter affinities of language, from which so much specious inference has been drawn, to the great discredit of etymology. Similarly tlie sceptical infer- ence derived from the many forms of human mythology, rendered nugatory by a consideration not resting on doubtful enquiry : the certainty of the fundamental elements of all religion being derived from one, and the high probability of much being retained in common by many. The separations of creed need not be supposed to have been all sudden ramifications from this primal form ; for such is not the true descent of human opinion. A few great leading branches were, by many degrees and in the course of many vicissitudes, ramified into further forms, distinguished by sliglit shades of belief. In the long lapse of ages, causes similar to those from which dift'ering national states have been formed, under the varied control of climate, produce, position, and accident, transformed creehed with the spoil of shipwrecks and the plunder of nations. 88 EARLY. Hebrides, and the Isle of Man. The marriage of his son, Sigurd, with the daughter of Murkertach, seemed, to his grasping policy, to open a way to the extension of his dominion into Ireland. The Irish monarch having, with the wonted faithlessness of the period, violated the terms of the treaty which had been made on this union, Magnus made a descent on the island. The result was unfoi'tunate — the natives con- trived to surprise his force by one of those manoeuvres for which they seem to have had at all times a peculiar genius: the Norwegian king was entangled in the hidden terrors of a numerous ambush, and, with his army, cut oft' without the power of efi"ective resistance. Mr Moore, in this period of his history, quotes William of Malmes- bury in support of the important surmise, that the commerce between England and Ireland was then more habitual than is generally sup- posed. The inference seems unquestionably to follow; and yet it is easier to doubt the fidelity or the information of the chronicler, than to allow much weight to an inference apparently so inconsistent with the history of the age. That trade, to a limited extent, and such as might be inferred from this general history, had taken place between the countries, can easily be proved. The close connexion between the Danish races in both, together with their commercial character, and the abundant pastoral produce of this island, must have created an intercourse of trade, restricted by many causes, to explain which would lead us too far. In 1103, Murkertach sustained a severe defeat from O'Lochlin, from which he is said never to have entirely recovered. His subse- quent conduct was probably such as to conciliate for him the favour of the church, as different instances are mentioned by the Four Masters of his being protected by the interposition of Celsus. A severe illness, in ill 4, probably consequent on the breaking of the powers of life attendant on old age, called up the ambition of his brother Dermod from its long torpor of repose. Murkertach, feeling himself unequal to the disturbance and vicissitudes inseparable from such contentions, soon found it expedient to consult the suggestions of a wiser spirit, by resigning the sceptre, which he found it difficult to hold, into the eager grasp of his brother, and entered into the monas- tery of Lismore, where he died, IIIQ- O'Lochlin, who had trod the same path of secular ambition and violence, was, by the Instrumentality of reverse, conducted to the same penitent end. The unspi ritual career of both had been largely qualified by munificence to the church, and in the utmost excess of their least justifiable courses, they had wisely paved the way for reconciliation. The ideas of religious restoration, and the forgiveness to be won by acts of munificence or by the merits of self-iuflictlon and spiritual abasement, were something widely different from the earlier or more genuine doctrines of the church. But however discordant with the original institutions of its Divine Founder, Christianity had assumed a tone and character in strict accordance with the period. The power and political influence of a corrupt cliurch were tlien undoubtedly in- creased, by an understanding which transferred penitence from the broken spirit and contrite heart, to the act which could be at will per- formed by the purse and the scourge. HISTOEICAL INTKODUCTIOX. 89 It should, at the same time, be observed, that the corruptions which had arisen through that long period of" obscurity, emphatically termed the darker ages, did not in the British isles at any time amount to the deep central midnig-ht of Italian superstition : around the remoter borders of the papal empire, there played a faint stream of freer air ; there was indeed, in every church, resistance proportioned to the learn- ing of the bishops, the civilization of the chiefs, and to their remote- ness from the central machinery of that unhallowed empire of intrigue and darkness. The Danish chui-ches in Ireland wej-e united with their English brethren, under the jurisdiction of the see of Canterbury. And al- though the Irish bishops acknowledged no share in this connexion, there was yet maintained a friendly communication between the most dis- tinguished persons in either church, of which the remains are honour- able to both. From the letters written by Lanfranc and his successor, inferences unfavourable to the discipline and influence of the Irish church at this time, appear to follow: in some measure, such inferences are indirectly corroborated by the general indications of the moral state of the people ; but allowances are to be made for the misinter- pretation of conduct arising from ignorance of national customs. The state of the Irish was peculiar — the remains of an ancient order of civilization were combined, somewhat fantastically, with the two deep shades of real and apparent barbarism. The one, the result of the progress of the surrounding world ; the other, the retrogression attend- ant on the continued prevalence of a state unfavourable to the exist- ence of civilization: an observation the more intelligible, as it has still an application to the state of the lower classes in Ireland, which, tliough in many important respects ditferent, is yet in principle the same. The impulse given to civil discord by the distui'bance of prescriptive right, with the usual and necessary operation of all such interferences, when not conducted by the most disinterested integrity and wisdom, and according to the most rigid principles of constitutional right, propa- gated itself on into increased disorders of the same natui-e. The law of succession had fallen into a confusion, which demanded more than human energy to rectify. The chaos of contesting claimants pro- duced a long interregnum which lasted for fifteen years. In this continued struggle, Tirdelvac, the king of Connaught, was to be distinguished as first in vigoui* and activity. Between him and the kings of Munster, who succeeded each other in this interval, an unm- termitting- succession of hostilities was carried on with various fortune. An active and valiant leader in the field, Tirdelvac was no less alert and much more successful in the game of diplomacy. And at length after a long and doubtful struggle, in which his prospects had often been reduced to the verge of ruin, he contrived to scatter dissension between the Eugenian and Dalcassian tribes ; the details of this course need not detain us here. The fiercest part of the struggle through which he had to make his way by slaughter to a throne, seems to have been the last ; when a brief svxccession of furious and bloody collisions with Connor O'Brian, ended, through the mediation of the clergy, in a peace, of which Tirdelvac's genius, or the favour of the 90 EARLY. ecclesiastical arbitrators, secured for him the advantages. Between the success of his arms, and the adroitness of his policy, he at length ob- tained the monarchical supremacy in 1 1 36. The spirited descendants of Brian, were little likely to actjuiesce in the departure of the supreme power from a house in which it seemed to have been vested by usurpation, and secured by hereditary valour. But the contagion of discord, had spread from house to house, and from branch to branch. Weakened by dissensions which were fatal in proportion to the combative alertness of the warlike Momonians, the Munster kingdom began to exhibit signs of rapid dissolution. In this eventful crisis, when the actors of a new and unthought of order of things were entering on the stage of worldly events, we must for the first time introduce the name of one, in whom virtues far beyond the ordinary standard of Irish monarchs, were, through a long and eventful life, to be neutralized by an adverse combination of events. Roderic, the son of Tirdelvac, who was to witness the passing awav of the power and glory of the monarchy, was to give the last blow to the falling throne of Munster. At the head of a chosen band he made an irruption into Munster, and burned Kincora to the ground. The insult roused from its recesses the entire spirit of the Munster tribes ; a vigorous effort on either side brought together the full force of both, into the fatal field of Moindnoe, where the army of Munster was de- feated, and the king of Thomond, with the flower of the Dalcassian peerage, fell upon a bloody field among seven thousand of their bravest men. Tirdelvac died about 1 150, the exact year is not ascertained, after an active and eventful life of various and extreme vicissitude, crowned with a prosperous termination. And as, in human estimation, the actions of public men are oftenest judged by the event, his historians are not unwarranted in applying the epithet of great, to one whose virtues appear to have been confined to those qualities which secured a dear bought honour for his own person, at the cost of many a field of slaughter, and the peace of nearly half a century of wide wasting and demoralizing civil contention, which but too well prepared for the darker crisis which was at hand. At the close of a career marked by the continual breach of all that Christianity has pure and elevating* to humanity, he indicated his fears or wishes for futurity, by lavish bequests to the church, of the wealth he could retain no longer in his grasp. He was succeeded by Murtagh O'Locidin. whose succession was in- terrupted by no rival. In truth this tranquil m(»ment was simply the exhaustion of a state of national collapse. The fiery atoms were burnt out, in the dance of confusion which had signalized the age. Roderic made some hesitating demonstrations, but they were discoun- tenanced; and, on being brought to the trial of arms, subsided, with some loss of life to the people and no material consequence to the chiefs, into a calm acquiescence in the monarch's right. MacLochlin did not long survive this decision, and Roderic quietly succeeded to the monarchy. We have now slightly, but sufficiently for our design, traced the stream of Irish history from period to period. We have next to HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 91 make some general remarks upon the period upon which we are now to enter. As the Danes occupied a prominent space in the annals of the preceding centuries, so we are now to transfer our attention, with an increasing interest, to the connexion with the sister isle of England; and to keep in view the relations to which the fortune of our island became indissolubly united with her for good and evil. State of the Country At the commencement of the period upon vvliich we are now to enter, some ci nturies of continued op^^res- sion and disorder, had not only retarded all national advance, but occasioned a considerable decline of prosperity and civilization. The retinement and literature of the middle Jiges, confined to a particular class, had never been, at any time, productive of that diffusive popular influence, which is the growth of recent times : there was therefore no rooted civilization adequate to withstand the repeated shocks of invasion, feud, rapine, and oppression. It eamiot therefore be a subject of wonder if, at the coming of the English, the real state of the people was that of nearly pure barbarism. They who, from poli- tical motives, find it useful to their objects to deal in exaggerations and popular flatteries, may attempt to conceal the facts or to dispute them; but such they were, nor was it possible for them to be other- wise. The contrary supposition is quite inconsistent with any regard to possibility, or to the facts of history. Had such a state of things continued without interruption, it may be with some probability sup- posed, that it might have still led to a better : the Danes had become Christian, and were fast melting into the national population. The growth of cities, the advance of commerce, the spirit of freedom and civil equalization which result from corporate institutions, might, by a slow progress in the lapse of ages, have enabled this island to follow in the wake of improvement- But these are yet but assumptions : in the then .existing state of the country, its laws, manners or civil institutions, there was nothing for the loss of which the philosophic historian will be likely to lament. And had the English conquest been but complete, there was no other event so likely to have led the country as rapidly forward in the advance of surrounding nations. The circumstances which had the fatal efltect of preventing' this desirable consummation are now to be brought before us in all the detail of biography. The sources of literary information for this purpose, continue as yet but scanty, and aftbrd little means of personal portraiture. The individuals whom we shall have to speak of, must as hitherto be but indistinctly seen through the medium of the events, of which they were the actors and sufl'erers : our materials must be rather the events than the men. It will be therefore unnecessary, to encumber our page, with any prefatory sketch of a history, which it will thus be our business to pursue in detail. A few general facts, and observa- tions, will, nevertheless, prepare our reader, for the more distinct and thorough appreciation of the scenes, persons, and events, which are to pass before him in lengthened array. Causes — If we look for the causes of the English invasion, they are too apparent to occupy research and space. A succession of monarchs whose interest, ambition and pleasure, was war — the game 92 EARLY. of kings and the sjiort of feudal chivalry — must always have looked on a country, in the state of this island, as an object of enterprise. Nor was there any thing, in point of reality, to shelter it from the valour and activity which had for ages disturbed the repose of France, and made its fields the theatre of British valour, but the low state of civilization, which made this island less an object to attract attention, excite cupidity, or awaken military ambition. The mere possession of an uncultured territory, had not the value which would have made it a full equivalent for the expense of invasion. And it was then evi- dent that generations must elapse before the new conquest, if made, would be brought into a state of subordination and civil order, such as to make it an integral addition to the English throne. The ablest and most clear-sighted monarchs who sat upon a throne, made ever uneasy by the turbulence and insubordination of the English baronage, were also likely to have seen in the progress of such a war, and the occupation of such a territory, the means rather for the Increase of the baronial power than that of the throne. It was indeed only in a reign of unusual vigour and military success, and in a state of pro- found peace with the other surrounding countries, that it could have been attempted in a manner conformable to the actual objects of royal ambition. The conquest, to be effectual for any desirable piu'pose, should be led by the monarch, and end in a thorough subjugation and settlement of the country. Such was accordingly the design of Henry. But such a project might have slept till other times, had not the course and concurrence of circumstances effected, by a different method and to a different issue, the object which the embarrassments and prudence of Henry deferred. Means of Resistance. — If, from the causes which may have led to the events of the following period, we look to the means of aggression and resistance, there is nothing worthy of remark that will not sug- gest itself to the reader. While the constitution of England was such as to offer many obstacles, nearly, if not wholly, insurmountable to foreign conquest: the state of this island was such as to afford little means of resistance against invasion. In England, the nature of feudal military service was unfavourable to all enterprises which demanded time and cost, as it was limited to a certain number of days, and at the cost of the baron wlio led his retainers or feudal tenants to the field. And though the warlike monarchs of England found means, in an age of which the occupation was war, to keep large armies in the field, it was only at a cost wholly beyond the limits of national sufferance, and which seldom failed to involve their reigns in embarrassment and strife, or by the exceeding popularity of the war amongst the greater barons. There was, at the period of Henry II.. no standing body of forces which cost upwards of six annual millions for its support, nor had public credit, by which alone a permanent fund of this nature could be secured, been thought of. It was thus that the execution of the invasion, which was now to occur, was little likely to be effected, unless by the ambition or the cupidity of indivi- duals. Henry, already engaged in a war with France, and engrossed by the stormy politics of his own dominions and the turbulence of his rebellious sons, had enough to fill his mind and exhaust his resources. HISTORICAL mTRODUGTION. 93 But the means of resistance were slight and ineffective. Military science had gained considerable progress in England, of wliich the chivalry stood in the foremost rank of all that was renowned and illustrious in Eui'ope. The Irish were utterly ignorant of all military knowledge beyond the rude ambuscades and tumultuary onsets and flights, to which tlieir bogs and forests gave the little advantage they had against their disciplined adversaries. In the course of time, they unquestionably learned from their con- querors, and became dangerous antagonists in the field: but even after a struggle, which Listed for generations, the native Irish were even physically inferior to their invaders. Question of Cunquest — The question as to the completeness of the conquest of Ireland, has been debated with a zeal and ability, which impresses the notion that it must have some importance. It has abso- lutely none; and can oidy lead to any practical inference by some combination of illusions. The right of mere forcible occupation, only lasts so long as it can be maintained by force : but the rights which may arise out of it, as they pass down the course of ages, assume the form of prescription, the main foundation of all right, and cannot be touched without shaking the very name of right, and endangering the foundation of both property and civil order. Ireland, an integral member of Great Britain, is connected with the nation by no link which is understood to imply conquest, but is depressed by some disadvantages and inequalities which arise from her different condition and state of social advance, or at least are so understood. If then the question of conquest be discussed, it is only rationally to be considered as a point of national pride, or as a means of exciting popular enthusiasm ; and as such, it is nugatory still. If the conquest of Ireland was not comjileted, it was from no conduct on the part of her rulers, or valour on that of the people. But the reader may judge from the events to be detailed hereafter. A more serious question is, as to the injustice and impolicy of not establishing the law of England as the law of the land, though often and earnestly sought by the Irish people. The answer appears to us to be, that it would have been inexpedient, or indeed impossible, until the time had arrived when the natives could be controlled and governed, as well as protected, by the English laws. They sought their protection, and had no design of submitting to them. \Ve must at the same time admit that, as in all human concerns, evil motives are likely to have concurred with policy. The support of right and the maintenance of civil order, do not necessarily imply spot- less honour and justice in the governors. Such is man, a mixture of good and evil, and such his best acts. Manners and Civilization of this Period. — The history of England, unlike our own, has long been rendered easy of general access. The history of the Saxon Heptarchy, is more familiar to children, than many portions of Irish histoi'y up to our own day to learned men. It is quite unnecessary to dwell on topics with which every eye is fa- miliar. But it will be conducive to clear notions of these times, now about to be entered upon, if we can recall to the reader's memory some- thing of the general state of knowledge and manners peculiar to them. ^'t EARLY. There is, indeed, no function of history of more importance, or which has been so inadequately fulfilled. The historian is generally satisfied with such views of mankind as are ])resented in the progress of events: in these, however, none but the broader and more abstract characters of humanity are seen. Man appears, therefore, in the his- torian's page, only in his gregarious capacity — masked in the common conventions of the crowd. All that characterizes the person or the home scene of domestic life, are sunk and clouded in the far off march of generations And when, as it must sometimes occur, a glimpse of the individual appears: the features and the acts, are mostly so un- like all that we know and feel — so little to be resolved into the motives of existing men — that the reader cannot accord the sympathy or even the credence, which the interest of the page requires. The materials for personal portraiture are slight. It was not, indeed, even possible for the annalists of any period, to foresee the importance or interest of the minuter details and colouring of social life to future times. The Saxon chronicler, or the monk of Croyland, could little foresee a period, when the flowing romance with which they made their histories palatable to the ear of adventure-loving vacancy, would have infinitely less interest than a clear and distinct sketch of the simplest and plainest details of the daily life that was passing under their eyes. The learning of the stately oratory and illuminated scroll, — the gothic pomp of architecture, the magnificence of all in the costly decora- tion, of which the remains are now' but monumental, of genei^ations whose life and fashion has passed from memory, remain, nevertheless, the sure testimonies of past refinement, intellectual cultivation, art, luxury, and commerce. The application, however rude it was, of ancient literature, had a charm for the aristocracy — the study of archi- tecture, directed by a taste and a reach of magnificent conception, still attractive to the cultivated eye — the castles and churches which covered the land, are relics of a certain advance in the arts of life. To these may be added the various remains of ancient furniture and household utensils : and the various art exhibited in the arms and machinery of war. Proofs 'still more distinct, are those records which remain of the feast — the public solemnity, the tournament — of the food, dress and money — of the value of land — the prices of commodities, and the various fiscal regulations, that exhibit the growth of an orderly com- munity, a civil government, and national institutions. In the reign of Henry the Second, the state of civilization in Eng- land, was in some important respects advanced to a hig-h stage of refinement and luxury : in others, to those who look from the high ground of modern times, it must appear still upon the verge of barba- rism. Many useful discoveries and inventions, which have changed the state of society, were yet unknown — literature was unrestored from the ruins of the ancient world — laws and constitutional improvements, of which a form of civil liberty, perfect beyond the dreams of ancient philosophy and poetry, was to be the result, remained yet for time and providence to develop; but considering the general scale of the wealth and knowledge of the age, England had made rapid and well-directed advances towards the still remote maturity of civilization. In many things barbaric, because such was the general character, the English nation HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 95 even then held the foremost station in the advance of that period, which she has ever since retained. Not backward in literature, which was liardly yet a feature of refinement, she was polished in manners, and consummate in the military arts of the time. Chivalry, with its bar- baresque ornaments of morals and manners, though inconsistent with more sober and true moral wisdom, and with the constitutional laws and customs of modern society, was but a portion of the ancient scaf- folding- of the growing structure, and among the various results which developed some of the higher social functions and passed away : — " Endured their destined period, and fulfilled Their purposed end, tlien at the appointed hour Fell into ruin."* The surest indication of the advance of the social state, is the pro- gress of constitutional government, of which the improvement marks the steps of growing national prosperity, as its corruption accompanies the decline and falling of states.. The establishment of regular courts of judicature, in which the law is supposed to shut out the fallible discretion of individual opinion; however defective in construction, or existing state of law, is yet an element of high civilization, and bespeaks a far advance towards the perfection of civil order. The stormy collisions between the barons and the throne, have been adduced as supporting an opposite inference. But in this there is an oversight of no small magnitude ; their occasions are overlooked and their real value — a far advance towards civil order. Of the same nature are the contests between the orders of the state, and their con- sequences. For though sometimes adverted to, for the purpose of strengthening the opposite inference, by the Irish historians: their real value, is the universal sense they indicate of the importance of just laws and constitutional rights. The constitution of England, as best described by the most authoritative modern lawyers, may be dis- cerned afar by the philosophical historian, reflected from the mind and spirit of every order of the English nation, from the commencement of the va/ied and long-continued series of actions and reactions, which fill the whole period from the battle of Hastings to the Revolution in 1688. To estimate the value of the argument which can be drawn from the disorders and varied collisions of this period, from which Leland and others have inferred a rash comparison between England and Ireland in the ensuing period, an important omission in their premises is to be supplied. The causes of national disorder on either side are to be minutely investigated. The collision of tumultuary factions or of embattled ranks, tells nothing but the fatal condition of human nature; for it is the occasion and the cause. There is in the main course of English history a constant struggle, of which the cause is mostly political in its character. In the whole course of contemporary Irish disorders, on the other hand, there is, traceably and simply, an individual impulse, or the operation of some vindictive passion, or the attraction of plunder. The wars between the contending chiefs — the struggle between these and the Danes — the long and sanguinary strug- * Tiie Universe, p. 60. 96 EARLY. g-le between the Geraldines and Butlers, and their still more disorderly succession of aggressions and retaliations between these and the ancient septs : have in them not a single feature of national or political collision. There is no point of resemblance between them and the revolts of the barons, or even the insurrections of Cade and Tyler — not to speak of the wars of the Roses, or the fearful civil wars of later periods — but the common consequence of national calamity. If from these considerations we pass to the actual state of Irish civilization at this period to which we are arrived, we find the fullest and most authentic accounts confirming each other in the representa- tion of a state of the most evident national decline. And while we can discover abundant and satisfactory proofs of a high state of ancient refinement, the evidences of more recent barbarism are equally beyond the reach of sober denial. On this point, however, any thing we could say, has found expression throughout the preceding division of this volume. We shall now therefore content ourselves with a brief observation upon the manners, knowledge, and arts of the Irish, at the commencement and during the early centuries of the English period. The popular state of manners continued to deepen in the features of barbarism, to times within the scope of modern history. An un- reflecting and undiscriminating spirit, strongly tinctured with pre- judice and party feeling, has viewed them as neutralizing the claims of Irish antiquity. But the more just view regards them as the natural and necessary consequence of a long suspension of the laws of social order. The operation of events vvhicli long continued to render life, subsistence, and property precarious, of tliemselves consti- tuted a necessary approximation to tlie state of savage life, and could not continue long to operate, without rendering it a habit ; a simple and self-evident principle, which involves the whole history of barbarism. Cambrensis, after all deductions are made for nationality or prejudice, gives in his history of the Norman conquest, the unequivocal portrait- ure of a people if not wholly barbarian, yet unquestionably in the very lowest state of civilization. The same impression is made by Spencer, after the interval of several centuries. We cannot here protract this introduction with a description which is transfused through his pages ; but we shall hereafter avail ourselves of his most valuable authority and graphic portraiture as we approacli a later period. There is no topic of this introduction that will not of necessity recur, and it is to avoid swelling our volume with needless repetition, that we have given but a cursory glance at these main topics from wliich this long period is mainly to derive its character. We shall therefore conclude, with a few remarks on the broader transitions which are to stamp a period, for which, from the scantiness of personal history, we have been compelled to take a lengthened scope. It is indeed a curious feature of our history which marks it from the beginning nearly to the end, that it presents itself in no regular unbroken series of events, but a remotely interrupted succession of fits of light antl darkness, of loud and flashing tempests, followed by long and lifeless calms. Be- ginning with saints and heroes, of whom we have selected enough to illustrate an age, we become soon involved in a period of invasion, slaughter, and sacrilege, which slowly subsides into a state of national PELAGIUS. 97 demoralization and anarchy, from which any change would seem to be an advantage. From this we enter into a stirring period, of which the history is more accessible and authentic, and the persons more distinct. Of these, the fortunes present no small interest, as their difficulties and dangers appear to be great, and their aim considerable : their conduct too occasionally presents the attraction of chivalric heroism, and constancy of spirit unflinching under the most formidable trials. But their period is confined to a single generation ; the Fitz- Stephens, De Courcys, and St. Laurences pass; and there occurs a long interval of which every historian laments the obscurity. The two cen- turies and upwards of murders, massacres, and civil wars, between rival barons and rival races, throughout the whole of which there is no virtue to redeem, or splendour to give life to the torpid succession of the Lacies and De Burgos, the Geraldines and Butlers, wlio follow each other across the dark and sanguinary stage, till the power of Elizabeth's reign closes the scene. EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS. PELAGIUS. A. D. 415. The names of scholars or ecclesiastics which crowd our annals in the earlier part of the fifth century, ofter little that can claim historic in- terest. Barbarous legends follow in the catalogue of uncouth names. Among these a small selection, connected with the early annals of reli- gion and the Christian church, may be ofi'ered as deserving of comme- moration. The birth-place of Pelagius cannot strictly be ascertained, and his country has been the subject of much controversy ; on the perusal of much of which, as stated by difterent writers, but chiefly by Usher, we think the balance very doubtful. Some ancient writers have called him a Briton, and referred his birth to Wales, Catelupus and Caius assert that he had been a Cantabrigian. Ranulphus says, — " Some relate that Pelagius was an abbot in that famous monastery of Bangor," &c.; on which Usher notes, that there was another of the same name in Hibernia, founded by St. Comgall ; and the ambiguity thus arising has appeared to some recent critics to solve a part of the difficulty. But, on looking on the date of Comgall's foundation, 50'% I. G Ir. 98 EAKLY IRISH CHRISTIANS. and that of the council of Carthage, 412, in which the errors of Pehi- gius were condemned, this explanation must manifestly be abandoned. But the fact of Pelagius having been a monk of the Welsh monastery which, according to Bede, flourished in the 6th century, and may have existed earlier by a couple of centuries, decides nothing as to his native country. There was much room for error in a point so likely to be indistinctly known, at the time when it may have been an object to ascertain it; and, as very slight indications are all that can be mostly had on such questions, we incline to take the direct affirmation or strong implication of those who were the most likely to know all that could be known of him. England and Ireland were frequently confused by the writers of the early ages, vuider the collective appel- lation of the " British Isles ;" and the appellation of " Briton," hastily adopted, would receive a stricter construction from stricter minds, or in more informed periods ; for this is an abundant source of historic error, and this may sufficiently account for the frequent application of the term " Brito" to his name. Garnier and Vossius are cited as admitting or asserting that he was an Irishman; and the affirmation of Vossius is remarkable as bearing the indication of a conviction, founded on such proofs as could satisfy a judgment so critical as his. " Pelagius professione monachus, natione non Gallus Brito, ut Danaeus putavit, nee anglo-Britannus, ut scripsit Bala^us, sed Scotus." Lib. i. cap. 3.* St Jerome, in the contumelious tone of controversy adopted in his age, speaks of him thus : — " Neither let him be set down as most stolid and unwieldy with Hibernian porridge." To whatever district of the British islands he may have owed his birth, the doubt alone is a sufficient reason why he should not be omitted here. Amongst our many ancient names which fill this period, no other has the same title to commemoration, for the wide-spread fame and the mighty influence of his talents and errors. The earliest date to which we can distinctly ti*ace him, is the year 394; at which time Major, in his Treatise on the Acts of the Hiber- nians, says, " The pest-bearing Pelagius, the Briton, sprung up in the church, denying the grace of God."f This, however, unquestionably ante-dates considerably the first notices we can discover of Pelagian- ism. Leaving, however, these considerations, the acts of the life of this eminent champion of an evil cause, are too clearly recorded in the whole history of his age, to require that we should detain our readers with the citation of authors. Early in the 5th century, Pelagius dwelt in Rome, where the purity and amiability of his life and manners were rendered illustrious by the spirit, eloquence, and acuteness which brought them into exten- sive notice. But his mind, unclouded by passions, was (as indeed often occui-s) inclined to form too low an estimate of their frightful power over the human race, and to exaggerate vastly the power and influence of virtue. Extending, probably, the insufficient experience of a cold temperament or of an vmtried world, into a theory, his reason revolted * Pelagius, by profession a monk, by country not a Welsh Briton, as Daiiseus has supposed, nor an Anglo-Briton, as Bale has written, but a Hibernian. f " Anno 394, post partum virgineum, virus pestiteruni Pelagius Brito in ecclesiil seminavit, giatium Dei negans." — Uiher, Primord 212. against the doctrine of human depravity, as inferred from Scripture ; and, assigning far too much to the strength of man, he, with the com- mon error of sectarians, assigned too little force to the texts which declare his conniption, ciu-se, and the method of his justification; and magnified, by this removal of their limiting doctrines, those texts which inculcate virtue and insist on good works. Totally losing sight of those very distinct and intelligible conditions, on which the very definition of good works depends (" faith working by love," the " fruits of the Spirit"), and identifying them with the notions of heathen morality, he involved himself and his hearers in quibbles founded on verbal assumption. An act, to be sinful, must be voluntary; and to be voluntary, there must be a power to resist it : and from this and other such sophistical flippancies, it was easy to deduce the tenets which, by his opponents as well as by the disciples of his school, were construed into a direct opposition to Divine gi-ace. Pelagius himself, however, seems to have been anxious, by specious provisions, to guard against these consequences. He carefully distinguishes between the fact, or actual conduct of men, and the abstract possibility of resisting sinful inclinations. " De posse aut non posse, non de esse aut non esse, contendimus," is one of the many forms in which he states his own conception of the question ; after which he admits that no man is free from actual sin. Supposing his antagonist to charge him with the denial of Divine grace, he replies, " I do not deny it ; who makes the admission that the efl"ect must be produced, admits that there is a cause by which it must be produced ; but you, who deny the possibility of the efPect, necessarily imply the denial of any cause by which it can be produced."* Such is a specimen of the sophistry to which Pela- gius and, after him, many resorted to defend tenets so founded on misapprehension, that it is difficidt for the reader to believe that they were ever sincerely maintained. The truth appears to be — and it seems to be a truth applicable to the sectarians of every age, who have departed from the full recognition of every portion of the scheme of redemption, as comprised in the broadly comprehensive enunciations of Scripture — that there has been a constant necessity felt to state their opinions, so as to avoid the charge of the objectionable conse- quences of these opinions. But this precaution has never prevented either their disciples or their opponents from setting- aside this artifi- cial entrenchment of equivocal words, and adopting the consequences to the fullest extent of their zeal. It may be fit, before leaving this topic, to notice that the whole reasoning of Pelagius, through all his writings, seems to be founded on the equivocal sense of the word " sin," by which it is used vo signify the commission of an act, or a certain state of heart unacceptable to God, and productive of sins of omission and commission. A thousand motives, little worthy of even human approbation, may deter a human being from guilt: one motive alone can be acceptable to God; and the true question to be answered must concern this motive. Hence, indeed, the reason and fitness of the 1 3th article of the church of England.f * Usher, p. 236. + It is only alter a full acquaintance with the opposite errors and perplexing subtleties of sectarian disputants on either side of truth, that the full merit of thcsje 100 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS. Whatever may have been the fear or caution of Pelag-ius, his opin- ions were quickly reverberated, in their full and undisguised form, by his followers ; and he was himself led to follow them up into various consequences which set all disguise or reserve at nought. As we scarcely think it allowable to convert a simple memoir into a theolo- gical dissertation, we shall here present a brief abstract of those here- sies which, we must observe, are the substantial events in the life of Pelagius. He maintained that the sin of Adam was attended with no conse- quences to his posterity; that every man was free to obey or disobey the commands of God, as Adam was before his fall; that good works were meritorious in the sight of God; and that man, by the use of his natural faculties, could act conformably with Divine law, without any assistance from Divine grace. The opposite doctrines he taught were pernicious, as being adapted to oppose the cultivation of active virtue. Other tenets, respecting baptism, are mentioned; but this leading error may suffice. So great was the respect for the talent and private character of Pelagius, that the first impression caused by the publication of his opinions seems to have been mixed with tenderness; and it is a strong indication of the impression he had made, that many ap- plied to him the text of Revelation, " and there fell a great star from heaven." He was opposed by the eloquence and reasoning of Augustin, and loudly assailed by his opponents with all the varied resources of con- troversy, whether employed in the support of truth or defence of error. Reasonings were mingled with invectives, and these enforced by sterner means. These collisions of human bitterness were, for a moment, silenced by terrors which shook the city to its foundation, and stilled all other passions in the hearts of an empire. The effect of the capture by the Goths of the ancient metropolis of the West, is described in an epistle from Pelagius himself, written to the Christian lady Demetrlas : " It has occurred, as you have heard, when Rome, the mistress of the world, struck with gloomy apprehensions, trembled at the harsh clamour and shrill reverberation of the Gothic trumpets. Where, then, was the order of nobility? where the jealous distinctions of rank? All was confusedly mingled by a levelling terror. There was wailing in every house, and one consternation seized on every soul. The slave and noble were as one : the image of death was equally ter- rible to all; unless, indeed, that they felt more painful fears to whom life had been the sweetest. If we are thus terror-struck by mortal foes, and by a human hand, what shall be our feeling when the trum- pet shall begin to thunder forth its fearful call from the heavens; and the universe shall rebellow to the voice of the archangel — more loud than any trumpet; and when we shall behold, not the arms of human thoroughly jiitlicious expositions of Christian doctrine can be known. To appre- ciate the skill with which they preserve the w hole of seemingly-opposed truths, and avoid the opposite errors which partial views of Scripture have occasioned, seems to have demanded a degree of caution, moderation, and a comprehensiveness of intel- lect not very often to be found in the same degree. fabric waved above our heads, but the hosts of the heavenly powers assembled together?" From these terrors which he has thus described, Pelagius, with his disciple and fellow-countryman Celestius, seems to have withdrawn into Africa, as he was present at a conference held with the Donatists, ten months after, in Carthage. This appears from the testimony of Augustin, who, first having mentioned the previous arrival of Pela- gius in his see (of Hippo), and his speedy retreat, proceeds to say, that he recollected having once or twice remarked his face in Car- thage, " when I was pressingly occupied about the conference which we were about to have with the Donatists ; but he hastened away to the countries beyond sea." Bale asserts, that he at this period visited Egypt, Syria, and other Eastern countries ; and Usher cites a rather ironical epistle, from a Greek writer to Pelagius himself, which seems to cast a gleam upon his character, while it demands the usual allow- ance due to all satirical representation, " ' Grey hairs are shed over Ephraim, and he knoweth it not,' — without doubt acting the youth in visions of fictions. In the same way a crowd of years have brought hoariness upon you ; and nevertheless you retain a stubborn and un- bending spirit — travelling from one monastery to another, and making trial of the tables of all. Wherefore, if the nicety of meats and the luxury of sauces is so much your object, go rather and assail with your flatteries those who bear the magisterial office, and walk the streets of cities ; for hermits cannot entertain you according to your desire."* From this, in some measure, appears the general nature of the efforts made by Pelagius, to obtain proselytes among the vast multi- tude of the monastic communities which swarmed from the bosom of the church, falling fast into heresy and prolific superstition. It is, indeed, well worth noticing, and applicable to the heresies of all times, the mixture of dishonest artifice which takes a place even in the most daring efforts which obtain popular success. Pelagius united, in a singular degree, consummate craft and audacious boldness. Involving the most extreme errors in doubtfid assertions, which, to the populace, might seem to bear the most orthodox interpretation, he reserved the comment for private exposition ; and, while he dexterously avoided committing himself in public beyond what the public sense might receive, he sounded his way in every private channel, took advantage of ignorance, pliability, and intellectual unsoundness, to gain prose- lytes to opinions which he avoided pushing to their consequences. This he left for the rasher zeal of disciples, and the under-working of opinions of which the seed is scattered. In allusion to this part of his character, the following extract will be understood: — " Speak out what you believe : declare in public that which you secretly teach to your disciples; the privacy of cells hear one view of your doctrines, the pulpits another." " For that alone is heresy which shrinks from a public explanation, which it doth fear to offer in public. The silence of the masters advances the zeal of the disciples ; what they hear in the secret chamber they proclaim on the house-top. If the'tr * Usher, Primoid. 216. 102 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS. fceaching shall please, it goes to the honour of the master ; if not, to the shame of the disciple. And so your heresy has increased, and you have deceived many."* This is from a controversial correspondence into which he had entered with Jerome, during his residence in Jeru- salem, where, after leaving Africa, he took up his abode. This posi- tion was, then, the most favoui-able for his purpose that coidd be chosen. Free from the disadvantages to be encountered in any of the great metropolitan centres of ecclesiastical power, it was the universal centre of pilgrimage from every Christian shore into which the devotion, zeal, and superstition of the Christian world was pom-ing and return- ing, and from whence he might hope to spread his opinions widest and with least opposition ; while, in the meantime, Rhodes in the east, and Sicily in the west, were the districi: schools for the fm-therance of this heresy in their respective churches. The prudent reserve which thus served as the purpose of a covered way for the designs of Pelagius, and also to ward off from his person, the more direct, and therefore popular, attacks of his adversaries, was quite free from fear, or any natural infirmity of nerve or purpose. With the frontless confidence, so familiar to all who understand the arts of popular deception, Pelagius gave himself little trouble, as to the interpretations of Augustin or Jerome. He cared not for the opinion of the learned, the wise, and the powerful in reason or authority ; if he might, by any means, turn aside such exposm-es as might defeat his pm-pose. Careless of opinion — indifferent to abuse — holding no communion of feeling with other minds of the same order — specious — insinuating — watchful : he was also firm and confident, within the limits of prudence. In the power of his intellectual strength, he was confi- dent ; and this confidence was preserved by the difficulty of overthrow- ing one, whose force it was to select the field of combat for his oppon- ent, and to dwell in perpetual evasion. This character is partly shadowed out by one of his antagonists : " Goliah stands most enormous in pride, and tumid with carnal strength, imagining himself singly equal to all undertakings — clothed head, hands, and whole body, in the folds of manifold array ; having his armour-bearer behind him, who, though he does not fight, yet supplies the whole expenditure of arms."f The armour-bearer was Celestius, a fellow-countryman, and a disciple, who soon began to be considered more formidable than his master. In Jerusalem, Pelagius was supported by the patronage of the bishop of that church, whose own opinions tinged with the views of Origen, leaned to the same way of thinking. In consequence of this protection, Pelagius expressed his opinions more freely. A synod was held about this period (415, A. D.), in Jerusalem, for the purpose of examining into his opinions ; it was conducted by Orosius, a Spanish monk deputed by Augustin, in whose writings there is an account of the proceed- ings. But so dexterously did Pelagius play the game of verbal equivocation, and so deficient was the controversy of the 6th century, in that soundness of reason, which scatters aside the thin artifice of verbal equivocation and nugatory distinction, that Pelagius was acquitted from imputation here, and soon after in the council of Dios- polis. But in 416 he was condemned in Carthage. " St Jerome ; Usher, Primord. 228. f Orosius ; Usher, Priniord. 234. PELAGIUS. 103 This controversy was carried on by epistles, preachings, theses, and synods, with various success, and with far more of subtlety and elo- quence, than clearness of comprehension, or justness of discrimination, on either side ; and more by the opposition of extreme opinions, than by the sound and full exposition of the truth. It was thus one of those great stages of opinion, from which have emanated the manifold divi- sions of the cloud of heresies which fill the atmosphere of theology, and carry on a restless contention in error, on every side of the truth, from the beginning even to the end. From the council of Carthage, Pelagius appealed to the see of Rome. It was hoped that the decision of the Metropolitan woidd carry with it the weight of court influence, and draw the authority of the emperor with that of the bishop — and, in this hope, the more orthodox bishops must have cheerfully acquiesced in a step so promising in its seeming circumstances. Zosimus, who had recently been raised to the metropolitan see, was, however, imposed upon by a confession, artfully worded by Celestius, so as to carry the sense of heresy under the sound and surface of orthodoxy. His simpli- city was also assailed by the letters of Pelagius ; and he declared in their favour. The declaration, however, quickly drew upon his head a storm of indignation, invective, and reproach, from the sounder bishops of Africa, with Augustin at their head, to which he quickly felt the necessity, or the justice, of giving way. From approbation, Zosimus changed his tone to the utmost severity of censure and condemnation ; and in consequence, in this fatal year for the Pelagian heresy, an im- perial decree, in the names of the emperors Theodosius and Honorius was issued, condemning Pelagius and Celestius, with all who should thenceforth maintain their opinions, to exile. The heresy thus supprest, nevertheless propagated a vivacious im- pulse throughout the church. The opinions remained under other names, and in other combinations ; and Pelagius and Augustin has never since wanted their representatives in the lists of controversy. The history of tlie Church has fully sliown that the rise and spread of heresies was not dependent upon the speculative error of any indivi- dual. Every shade of possible misconstruction has found its authority and its sect ; — numbering the moral and intellectual eccentricities of the mind, from Pyrrhonism that believes nothing, to Romish faith tliat be- lieves too mucli; from the deist to the modern tractarian ; from the modern neologist who deifies nature, to his brotlier of the same pro- found scliool who will have no divinity. Pelagius, after this, was little engaged in any public ecclesiastical controversy, as he ceases to be personally noticed in the writings of the cige. He probably liad begun to feel, for some time, the tranquillizing symptoms of old age, and given place to the increasing ascendancy of the vigour and abilities of his pupil Celestius; who, from this, is found in the foremost place, and maintaining the opinions of his master, with more boldness and equal dexterity. Of Celestius there is little to be said that is strictly in the nature of personal history; and his theological career would be but a repetition, with distinctions of time and place, little interesting, of our account of Pelagius. That he was a native of Ireland is undisputed. So great was the general impression produced by his writings and eloquence, 104 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS. that the fame of his more cautious master was, to some extent, trans- ferred to him, and he was, by many, reputed to be the real autlior of most of the writings wliich bore the name of Pelagius. In concert with Julian, another disciple of the same master, Celestius still endeavoured to continue the propagation of the same tenets, with others equally objectionable, until, at the instance of Celestine, bishop of Rome, they were expelled from Gaul. ST. PATRICK. BORN A. D. 387- DIED A. D. 465.* If we are obliged to admit the uncertainty of the traditions and records of a time so remote as the 5th century, in a nation so little noted in history as Ireland is supposed to have been ; if we must also confess that superstition and imposture have also additionally obscured these accounts, so as to render it, at first sight, doubtful what is to be allowed or rejected; it must, at the same time, be affirmed, that scepticism has been equally licentious in its doubts and rejections. The sceptical antiquary has but too much resembled the story-teller of the middle ages, in the easiness, indolence, and absurd confidence of his inferences from the slightest grounds, and oversights as to the most important probabilities. The various lives of St Patrick which were written from the 10th century, have so overlaid the accounts of his contemporaries with monstrous legends, that the air of absurdity thus imparted to the whole of these narrations, has had but the natural effect of such a con- taminating infusion of extravagance, in exciting the scorn and incred- ulity of an age so sceptical as the present. To eater seriously on the task of delivering the plain narrative of the life, thus beset between fiction and unwarrantable doubt, seems to be a task of some delicacy — and demanding some indifference to the preconceptions of opinion. But the main line to be observed in discriminating the true from the fictitious, is, on inspection of the historians, their periods, and the scope of their opinions and designs : no very hard task. The writers of the middle ages may, in reference to our subject, be divided into two main classes : those who recorded the most extravagant fables, because they believed in them ; and those who invented legends for their purposes. Between these, all ancient history and biography has been defiled with similar errors and impostures ; and the argument in favour of incred- ulity only derives weight from the consideration, where the questioned fact stands solely on such testimony. But omitting the consideration, that even these writers must be supposed to have some real foundation in fact, to succeed in impos- ture, or to be received by the credulous ; in the case of St Patrick, it is to be observed that there is another very distinct class of testi- monies. The alleged writers of his own period, are sufficiently proved * After a careful consideration of the opinions of various writers, we have fol- lowed Ur Lanigan in selecting tlie above dates. ST. PATRICK. 105 genuine, by the omission of all those fictions, which the credulity, or the craft, of a far later period could not have omitted, and dared not have rejected. This test of discrimination is confirmed by the obvious and uniform facts of an extensive analogy. The comparison of any records of the same individual, in the early or middle ages of our era, will miiformly exliibit similar indications of the same respective classes of authority. " It is observable," says Ware, " that (as the purest streams flow always nearest to the fountain), so, among the many writers of the life of this prelate, those who lived nearest to his time have had the greatest regard to truth, and have been most sparing in recounting his miracles. Thus Fiech, bishop of Sletty, and contem- porary with our saint, comprehended the most material events of his life, in an Irish hymn of 34 stanzas." " But in process of time," observes the same judicious writer, " as the writers of his life increased, so the miracles were multiplied (especially in the dark ages), until at last they extended all bounds of credibility. Thus Probus, a writer ol the 10th age, outdid all who went before him; but he himself was outdone by Jocelyne, a monk of Furnes, who wrote in the I'ith century."* " At length came Philip O'SuUivan, who made Jocelyne his ground- work, yet far exceeds even Jocelyne." These absurdities, when justly referred to their origin, have no weight in reference to the question of St Patrick's having existed or not; whatever they may have on the credulity or incredulity of the numerous classes who are ever more ready to believe too little or too much, than to hit the fine drawn line between truth and error. The authenticity of ancient accounts, or the genuineness of ancient writings, when questioned, are hard to prove ; the full proof of standing institu- tions — immediate publication — contemporary citation and controversy, &c., exists in reference to the Bible only among writings of so early a period. But the objections must be themselves of cogent weight, which can overthrow a single ancient statement, not in itself in any way inconsistent with probability. But however such questions may be decided, when all the doctors shall cease to disagree, it is not for us, " tantas componere lites," to settle these high and grave doubts of the inner conclave of antiquarian learning. As long as there is an Irishman who swears by St Patrick, he has a claim to find his name and life in the biography of the age of saints. In our sketch of this we must, from the necessity of the thing, abide by the best election we can make amongst conflicting statements on many points. Among the diff'erent opinions as to his birth-place, the most received is that which makes him a native of Scotland. In a writing attributed to himself, he describes the place as " in vico Banaven, Tahernice," which is further explained by Joceline, as the site of a Roman en- campment, near the town of Empthor and the shore of the Irish * This volume has been mnde, in some degree, more familiar, by the verv singular marivertence of its having been published as one of a series of Irish histories, so useful in its plan that its interruption is to be regretted. It comprised Spencer, Campion, Hanmer, and the Pacata Hibernia : but a volume more widely extravagant tlian Gulliver, without the attractions of that witty satire, seems to have arrested the sale of the work, for it was at once discontinued by the publishers. 106 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS. sea. Usher fixes the modern geography of the spot at a place called Kilpatrick, between Glasgow and Dunbritton, at the extremity of the Roman wall. Fiech, one of the earliest of our writers, also names the place by a name (Alcluith) which the consent of many ancient autho- rities fixes as an old name for Dunbritton. The reasons, however, upon which this statement is opposed are too strong to be omitted, although we cannot here enter upon their merits consistently with any regard to our limits. All the circumstances of the early narrative of St Patrick's life are highly inconsistent with this statement; and all precisely agree with the supposition that he was a native of Gaul. His family were residing in Gaul — he was there taken prisoner in his youth — there the earlier events of his life took place — his education and his consecration; and considering the distances of the places, with the obstacles attendant upon all travel- ling in these early times, it must be allowed that the former notion involves nearly insurmountable difficulties. There was in Armoric Gaul a district called Britain at the period, and of this very district his mother was a native and his family inhabitants. The name Nemthor cannot, on any authority, be ascertained to have been ap- plied to any locality in North Britain, but actually signifies "holy Tours," and of Tours his ujicle was the bishop, according to the state- ments on every side. We must leave the decision to the reader. The whole question is stated and discussed at great length by Dr LanigaiL His father was a deacon, named Calphurnius, the son of Potitus a priest. And the fact is worthy of notice, as proving the antiquity of the ancient documents from which it is drawn. In the times when Probus, Joceline, and O'Sullivan wrote, such a story was unlikely to be forged; and the simple Joceline thinks it necessary to assume, that these ancient ecclesiastics took their orders after their children were born: there cannot be a better proof of Joceline's having had stubborn facts to deal with, or of the extent of monastic ignorance in his day. But there camiot be a much clearer confirmation of the antiquity, at least, of the Confession of St Patrick. The data on which we have fixed his birth are briefly these. His consecration is placed by all the best authorities in 432. Upon this occasion, he tells us himself that a friend of his reproached him with a sin committed thirty years before, when he was yet scarcely fifteen years old. Adding, therefore, thirty to fifteen, and we make him forty- five in the year 432, which gives for his birth 387. This is confirmed by other particulars, among which it may be enough to obsei've the precision with which it synchronizes with the period of Niall's expe- dition into Gaul, at which time he was made captive at the age of sixteen: this must have occurred, therefore, about 403, and 387 -H 16 = 403. While yet a youth of sixteen, he was carried away by Niall of the Nine Hostages, and sold into captivity in Ireland. Different versions of the same incident are given by various writers, but they all agree in the event; Patrick was captured by pirates, and sold to a chief named Milcho, who dwelt in the county Antrim, near the mountain of Slieve Mis. This mountain was the scene of the next six years of his youth. Employed by his master to tend his flocks, his life was here spent in the lone and sequestered meditation for which the place and occupation were favourable, and to which he was by nature inclined. Of this period his Confession speaks in these terms : " My constant business was to feed the flocks ; I was frequent in prayer ; the love and fear of God, more and more inflamed my heart; my faith was enlarged, and my spirit augmented ; so that I said a hundred prayers by day, and almost as many by night.* I arose before day to my prayers, in the snow, in the frost, in the rain, and yet I received no damage ; nor was I affect- ed with slothfulness ; for then the Spirit of God was warm within me"! To the Christian reader, or to the informed reader who is in the least acquainted with the human heart, this simple and beautifully just and harmonious view of the growth and expansion of Chi-istian piety, accord- ing to its scriptural description in the language of its Founder and His first apostles, will at once convey an evidence of genuineness, far beyond any elaborate reasoning from ancient records. It neither indicates the mind of a superstitious era of the church, nor of the legendary fabrications in which it dealt. In this period of captivity, he acquired a perfect mastery of the Irish language. At the end of six years he obtained his freedom. The monkish writers refer this incident of his life to a miraculous interposition — • told with various circumstances, by different writers, according to the liveliness of their fancy, and the several degrees of daring or credulity with which they wrote. But the saint's own account is simply natural: " he was warned in a dream to return home, and arose and betook him- self to flight, and left the man with whom he had been six years."| " There seems to have been a law in Ireland," says Ware, " agreeable to the institution of Moses, that a servant should be released the seventh year." All that is known of the ancient traditions of Ireland, make this very likely ; and if we assume such a law, it is most probable that the youth, as the time of his return drew nigh, entertained thoughts which would naturally have suggested such a dream ; which an en- thusiastic mind would ascribe to providence. Such, whether just or not, was the inference of St Patrick; who accordingly made his way to the sea side, and with some difficulty obtained a passage. As he mentions that the difficulty arose from his want of money, it may be right to mention, that such a representation was totally inconsistent with imposture ; as it would have been too egregious an error, to write an account directly contradicting the marvellous inventions of his monkish historians- His escape was not immediately conducive to the anxious object he had at heart, which was to revisit his parents and brethren. After a month's laborious travelling, he was again seized, and again escaped after two months' captivity. Three months of hope deferred, and protracted toil, elapsed before he reached the home of his family, by whom he was joyfully welcomed, as one who had been lost and was restored. , His parents wished to detain him. But a dream, which the candid • This statement is simpiy tlie idiomiitic exprp,ision foi nuiv.erous [irayei-s, + Confe&jion, quoted liy W;ire. 108 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS. sceptic will attribute to the wonted course of his thoughts, aud the Christian may, without superstition, admit to be not beyond the possible scope of providential intimation, had the effect of inspiring a different coiu'se. " He thought he saw a man coming to him, as if from Ire- land, whose name was Victoricius, with a great number of letters. That he gave him one to read, in the beginning of which were con- tained these words, ' Vox Hiberionacum.' While he was reading this letter, he thought, the same moment, that he heard the voice of the iidiabitants who lived hard-by the wood of Foclut, near the Western sea, crying to him with one voice, ' we entreat thee, holy youth, to come and walk among us.' " To invent a dream well, does not require a knowledge of metaphysical theory ; but the acute reader, who has studied the subject, will perceive in this, how happily the law of sug- gestion, commonly observable in dreams, is preserved. From this dream. Ware conjectures, that legendary stories of his intercourse with the angel Victor have been constructed. The saint, from this moment, resolved to attempt the instruction of the Irish. To prepare himself for this arduous labour, he determined to travel in foreign coimtries, for the acquisition of the requisite ex- perience and knowledge. It was at the mature age of thirty, that he is said to have placed himself under the spiritual tutelage of Germanus, bishop of Auxerre, in Burgoyne — an ecclesiastic, eminent both as a theologian and civilian, characters which comprise the learning of the age. From this period his course is for many years indistinct — another probable character of authenticity: the interval is supposed, with good reason, to have been passed in the studious shades of cloistered study and meditation. He is said to have been ordained by the bishop, who gave him the name of Magonius, after which he dwelt, for some years, in a community of monks inhabiting a small island in the Medlteri'anean sea, near the French coast. The accounts of the events of his life, during the interval which elapsed before his return to Ireland, are unsatisfactoi-y, and not im- portant enough for an effort to clear away the perplexities of Colgan, or the contradictions of his biographers. We shall therefore pass to the period of his mission without unnecessary delay. According to the best authorities, the state of Christianity in Ireland was unprosperous ; it had not fuUy taken root among the population, or the chiefs and kings ; and there is some reason to believe that it was also tainted with heresy. The holy men, whose names are beyond rational conjecture, had spent their honourable and pious life in a fruitless struggle against the ferocious hostility of the Pagan priests — which encompassed them with obstacles and dangers, against which their best efforts had little weight. Palladius, the immediate precursor of St Patrick, had retired, in terror and despair, from the strife. Whatever had been the success of the early preaching of Christianity in its apostolic purity, it was little to be hoped that a religion, tainted perhaps by the gross and unspiritual errors of Pelagianism, could long continue to sustain the increasing hostility of a people, by nature fierce, in the defence of their faith or superstition. Palladius had, in the year 431, been sent by Celestin, bishop of Rome, on a mission to the Irish churches, " to the ST. PATRICK. 109 Scots believing in Christ."* Ignorant of the Irish language, and devoid of the requisite courage, he left the island in the same year, and died in Scotland. It is generally supposed that Patrick was, in consequence of these last incidents, ordained a bishop by Celestin. The difficulty seems to be in the short time which elapsed between the 15th December, 431, on which Palladius died, and the 6th of April, 432, the period of Celes- tin's death. This difficulty may be summarily disposed of, by at once abandoning the ill-supported statement that St Patrick ever visited Home. It stands upon a heap of contradictions, interpolations, and false assumptions. The history of the notion is easily conjectured. A period of the life of St Patrick happens to be untraced by contem- porary record: biographers in far later times fabricating history, as we know it to have been fabricated in the middle ages and by monkish writers, regularly filled up the chasms of their slender authority, ac- cording to their purpose, or their notions of probability. One or two writers in that inaccurate period, having made this unauthorized state- ment, either because they thought such must have been the fact, or that it should be so stated, were followed implicitly by a long train of ecclesiastical writers, each of whom shaped the fact according to the difficulties which obstructed his narration. These fabrications accumu- lating into authority, it became necessary for men like Usher and Dr Lanigan to discuss this vast array of conflicting testimonies, on the assumption that the main fact was in some way true. In the course, however, of their investigations, together with those of other learned men who disagree with each other, the whole details of all the statements are cut to pieces among them, and the fact which has been transmitted from scholiast to scholiast, and from doctor to doctor, has perceptibly not an atom of ground left to stand on. The critics and the commentators have devoured each other, and realized, after a manner of their own, the renowned legend of the Kilkenny cats. It only remains to point out the fact, that the statement has no ground to support it, and no documentary evidence to rest on. The fact that there existed and exists a motive for maintaining such a statement is obvious, and that various misstatements have been made for the pur- pose, plainly proved. Of these a curious one occurs in Probus, whose text has manifestly been tampered with for the very purpose. The interpolator, with the improvidence often accompanying craft like its evil g-enius, in the anxiety to effect his purpose, so confused the order of the narration, as to make it seem as if the chapters of the book had been by mistake inverted. After being placed at Rome, St Patrick is immediately after made to sail towards Gaul, across the British sea. The fact most consistent with the best authorized outline of this saint's life, is this, that having, in 429, accompanied Germanus and Lupus on their mission into Britain, he saw reason to think it time to carry into effect his wish to preach to the Irish ; and having, with this view, first crossed the British channel to Gaul, he was there qualified by episcopal orders. This was probably in his forty-fifth year. He was, it is said, accompanied by other pious men; among * Prosper, Cliron. 110 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS. these the names of Auxilius and Iserninus are mentioned, and tvventv more are said to have accompanied them. This little band of Christian soldiers he increased on the way. He is said to have landed in a place called Jubber-Dea, now the port of Wicklow. His first efforts were blessed with an impoi'tant success in the con- version of Sinell, the grandson of Finchad, and eighth in lineal descent from Cormac, king of Lelnster. He met with considerable opposition from Nathi the chief, whose opposition had terrified Palladius. He next visited a place called Rath Jubber, near the mouth of the river Bray. Betaking himself to his ship, he reached an island on the coast of the county Dublin, since called Inis Phadruig, where he and his companions rested, after the fatigues and perils they had sustained. From Inis Phadruig, he sailed northward, until he reached the bay of Dundrum, in the county Down, where he landed. Here he met with an adventure, which had some influence on his after-course of life. As he was proceeding with his party from the shore, he was met by a herdsman, who imagining them to be pirates, took to flight, and alarmed his master Dicho. This chief, calling together his men, sallied forth for the protection of his property ; his more intelligent eye, however, drew a more correct inference from the venerable ap- pearance of Patrick. The sanctity of aspect, and the dignified de- portment which are said to have suggested to the bishop by whom he was ordained, the new name of Patricius, had their full effect in the first impression which his appearance had on Dicho. The saint and his company were invited, and hospitably entertained by the chief. Following up so favourable an occasion, he easily made converts of his host and his entire household. The barn in which he celebrated divine service obtained, from the gratitude of his convert, the name of Sabhul Phadruig, or Patrick's barn. The next adventure of St Patrick, was far more momentous in its effects. It might be liriefly stated as the conversion of the monarch Laogaire, his court and people ; a statement which would include, at least, all that can with certainty be told of the event. But some of the legendary accounts of the adventures of St Patrick, have at least the merit of romance ; nor can we lose the occasion to offer a few speci- mens of the legends of the twelfth century. The following is extracted from Joceline: — After relating a variety of marvellous adventures, chiefly remark- able for the curious contrast they offer to the miracles of the New Tes- tament, both in style and design, Joceline, who tells each of these wonders with the gravest, and, we believe, sincerest simplicity, in a separate chapter, proceeds — " And the saint, on that most holy sabbath preceding the vigil of the Passover, turned aside to a fit and pleasant place called Feartfethin, and there, according to the custom of the holy church, lighted the lamps at the blessed fire. And it happened on that night, that the idolaters solemnized a certain high festival called liach, which they, walking in darkness, were wont to consecrate to the Prince of Darkness. And it was their custom that every fire should be extinguished, nor, thi-oughout the province, should be re- lighted, until it was first beheld in the royal palace. But when the monarch Leogaire, being then with his attendants at Temoria, then the chief court of the kingdom of all Ireland, beheld the fire that was lighted by St Patrick, he marvelled, and was enraged, and inquired who had thus presumed? And a certain magician, when he looked on the fire, as if prophesying, said unto the king, ' Unless yonder /ire he this night extinguished, he who lighted it ivill, togethe7' with his followers, reign over the whole island.' Which being heard, the monarch, gathering together a multitude with him, hastened, in the violence of his wrath, to extinguish the fire. And he brought with him thrice nine chariots, for the delusion of his foolishness had seduced his heart, and persuaded him, that, with that number, he would obtain to himself a complete triumph ; and he turned the face of his men and his cattle toward the left hand of saint Patrick, even as the magicians had dii'ect- ed, trusting that his purpose could not be prevented. But the saint, beholding the multitude of chariots, began this verse : ' Some in chariots, and some on hoo'ses, but we toill invoke the name of the Lord.' And when the king approached the place, the magicians advised him not to go near saint Patrick, lest he should seem to honoiir him by his pre- sence, and as if to reverence or adore him Therefore the king stayed, and, as these evil-doers advised, sent messengers unto saint Patrick, commanding that he should appear before him ; and he forbade all his people, that when he came, any one should stand up before him. So the prelate, having finished his holy duties, appeared, and no one stood up before him, for so had the king commanded." One only dis- obeyed this order : Ere, the son of Dego, struck with the impressively dignified and venerable aspect of Patrick, stood up, and offered him his seat. He was converted by the good saint's address, and became a person of reputed sanctity. His eloquence — the sanctity of his demeanour, together with that presiding spirit of divine power, of which we are authorized to assume the adequate co-operation in all the cases of the first preaching of the gospel to the heathen — had the same powerful effects, of which so many instances are to be read in the early history of the church. Laogaire and his court, became converts in the course of a little time.* From Tara, he proceeded to Taltean, where, as the reader of the preceding sections is aware, the people met at a great annual fair with their families. There coxild not be a more fit place for his object, as there was no other occasion could bring the same multitudes to- gether, in a temper so suited to the pui'pose of conversion. One of the peculiar advantages it offered, was the order and perfect sobriety of deportment, which was one of the regulations chiefly enforced at this meeting. The two brothers of king- Laogaire were here before him; of these Cairbre received him with insult, but Conal, who was the grandfather of Ck)lumbkille, listened courteously, was convinced, and became a convert. So deepjly was this prince impressed, that he offered his own dwelling to the saint ; and a monastery was founded, with a city called Domnach Phadruig (now Down Patrick), from the saint. Near this, the prince built a dwelling for himself, which was called Rath Keltair. * Amongst these was the poet Fiecb, who wrote the s-aint's life in verse, and "as afterward bisliop of Sletty. 112 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS. Patrick next bent his way towards Connaught ; he met in this journey the two daughters of Laogaire, the ruddy Ethne and the fair Fidelia, accompanied by two Druids, their instructors. This scene is de- scribed by Joceline : — " And of Laogaire were born two daughters, like roses growing in a rose-bed; and the one was of a ruddy com- plexion, and she was called Ethne, and the other was fair, and she was called Fedella; and they were educated by these magicians. And early on a certain morning, the sun having just arisen, they went to bathe in a clear fountain, on the margin whereof they found the saint sitting with other holy men. And regarding his countenance and garb, they were struck with wonder, and inquired of his birth and residence, taking him for an apparition." The young ladies, considering this impression, must have had reasonably firm nerves. The saint, however, gravely told them, that he had more important information to offer; and that it would be fitter for them to ask him questions concerning God, than about his earthly dwelling. On this they desired that he would explain on the subject thus proposed. And he preached a sermon, in which he explained the articles of Christian belief; and explained to them, in answer to their further questions, the nature of the eucharist, which he persuaded them to receive. The princesses, on receiving the holy elements, according to the story, immediately died. Their Druid teachers, not unreasonably, angry at this incident, assailed the saint with loud and bitter reproach. But Patrick opposed their railing with divine truth, and succeeded in con- verting them also. We cannot here omit another of the many fables to be found among the biographers of St Patrick ; the more especially as it relates to a popular tradition. At the approach of Lent, he withdrew to a lofty mountain in Mayo, now known by the name of Croagh Patrick, to meditate among its tranquil elevations, above the " smoke and stir" of heathen Ireland. " To this place," says Joceline, " he gathered together the several tribes of serpents and venomous creatures, and drove them headlong into the Western ocean; and that from thence proceeds that exemption, which Ireland enjoys, from all poisonous reptiles." Ware mentions on this, that Solinus " who wrote some himdred years before St Patrick's arrival in Ireland, takes notice of this exemption." The same learned and authoritative writer cites Isidore of Seville, and Bede, also, to the same purpose ; with Cambrensis, who " treats it as a fable, and even the credulous Colgan gives it up." For any reader of the present age, such an exposition must be merely curious. After his descent from Croagh Patrick, he founded a monastery in LTmaile, an ancient district of West Mayo, the country of the O'Mallies. The name of this monastery was Achad Fobhair; afterwards an epis- copal see, but since, the site of a parish church in the diocese of Tuam. He next proceeded northward, until he reached the district of the modern barony of Tirawly, preaching and converting multitudes by the way. Here stood the ancient wood, towards which his thoughts had long ranged ; it was the scene from which the voice of his dream had called him into Ireland ; and here, opportunely, a mighty multitude was gathered together, for the sons of Amalgord were contending for the election to their father's crown, and had convened the nobles and people to council. Many wonderful accounts are g-iven, by dilFereni writers, of the success of his preaching here ; but in his Confession, he mentions having converted many thousands. He next travelled on through Sligo, and along the northern coast of Connaught, every where preaching and converting multitudes to the faith. And then passing on through Tirconnel, he staid for the con- version of prince Owen, the son of the king Neill. Having crossed Lough Foyle, from the peninsula of Inishowen, he remained for a few weeks, making converts, and forming ecclesiastical institutions in the neighbom'hood ; in this, pursuing the prudent course of a skilftd con- queror, who places sufficient garrisons for the preservation of his con- quests. It is needless, in a sketch which we are endeavouring to render brief, to dwell on the similar events which followed his course through Dalriada, or to name all the foundations, of which there is now no memory, but the di-y record of the chronicle. He passed through many places, and in all effected the same invaluable results, in the course of a circuit, which cost him more than three or four years of toil and travel. In this course he founded the bishopricks of Louth and Clogher. It was on this tour that he is said to have been joyfully received by the king of Munster, or as some with more probability state, by his son jEngus. A statement has been added to this account, which in- volves more serious interest, because it is the subject of much contro- versy. Some of the writers tipon this period say, that St Patrick was at this time v'l'sS.teAhy his predecessors Ailbe, Declan, Ibar, and Kieran; but that a point of form was near occasioning the separation of these holy men. His predecessors were unwilling to submit to his ecclesias- tical supremacy, as head of the Irish church. After some anxious contention upon this point, protracted by the obstinacy of Ibar, the difference was settled on the consideration of St Patrick's extraordinary labours and eininent success, and the jurisdiction of the other eccle- siastics was satisfactorily settled and limited. It is, however, to be observed, that this account is not warranted by any of the lives of St Patrick. Ushei^ who quotes lives of De- clan and Ailbe, evidently lays no stress upon their authority. The extract which he makes to this effect, is prefaced with these words, " If it be allowable to credit a doubtful life of Declan."* Our main objection is, however, on the score of chronology, as according to the dates which we (on full consideration) adopt for the lives of these persons, they were none of them likely to have attained the age or authority which the above statement implies. We do not yet concur with the opposite opinion, which excludes St Patrick and defers the synod, for the purpose of admitting the others. This solution, which unfortun- ately resembles the story of " Hamlet omitted," in the stroller's play- l)dl, involves a violation of the principles of historical criticism. We may safely presume that other synods were held by Ailbe, &c., but we are not at liberty to set aside the whole particulars of a statement, and then allege that it has reference to another place and time with other particulars. The error involved is only to be illustrated by the faici- '^ Primord. 801. I. H Ir. cal blunder in a well known comic song, which expresses, with singular aptness, the same confusion of identities.* When the leading and essential parts of a statement are overthrown, the whole becomes a fiction.j But if we admit that St Patrick held the synod at the time, it involves no difficidty to suppose very gross errors to have been made as to the subordinate actors and unessential particidars. The synod, if a reality, was one at which St Patrick experienced opposition, and terminated it by certain means. That he experienced such opposition about the time is certain, being mentioned by himself in his Coiifessio. An incidenr, referred to the same occasion, if not truly told, has at least the merit of being well invented. The king's son ^Engus, being a convert, was baptized by the saint. During the performance of the sacred rite, it so hapj>ened that the staff on which St Patrick was lean- ing his weight was inadvertently placed on the prince's foot ; he think- ing this painful incident to be part of the ceremony, or repressed by the reverence of his feelings, patiently sustained the agonizing pressure, until relieved by the change of position which must have occurred during the service. St Patrick in his ConJ'essio, states the opposition he had frequently to encounter from kings and chiefs, and the pains he took to conciliate them by presents ; one of the eftects of which appears to have been, that while the fathers stood aloof, they permitted their sons to follow him. From this, St Patrick pursued his way through Munster, making numerous converts, and fortifying the church in faith and discipline. And having extended his course through South Munster, he proceeded onward into the south of the county of Waterford, and was for the most part received with joy by the people and their princes. Seven years elapsed in the proceedings of this part of his episcopal toiu-, when, solemnly blessing the country and its inhabitants, he turned on his way toward Leinster. About this time, 452, it was, that one of his bishops, Secundinus, died in Dunshaugiin, the seat of his see. He is remarked as the iirst bishop who died in Ireland, and as the author of a poem in honour of St Patrick, still extant. It has been published by Ware and many others, and speaks of the saint as still living at the time. To this period, also, is referred the saint's well-known letter to the tyrant Coroticus, a writing generally concluded to be genuine. Coro- ticus was a piratical chief, who probably dwelt on the northern coast of Britain. He made a descent on the Irish coast, and though sup- posed to have been a professed Christian, carried oflF captive a number of converts, i-ecently baptized or confirmed by St Patrick, who men- tions them thus in his epistle : "... innocentium Christianorum, quos ego innumeros Deo genui, atque in Christo confirn.ari, postera die qua chrisma neophyti in veste Candida flagrabat in fronti ipsorum."J These Coroticus carried away, having slaughtered many in taking them, and sold them into captivity. St Patrick upon hearing of the outrage, first addressed a private epistle to the tyrant, by whom it * " Arrah, Paddy," said he, " is it you or your brotluT?" + The oliject of the biographers of Dedan, &c., is jiistiy presumed to have ijeen a desire to magnify the pretensions of their sees. X Quoted by Lanigan, i. 299. ST. PATKICK. 115 was disregai'ded. He then wrote a public letter, oi' which the following appears to be a summary : " Announcing- himself a bishop and estab- lished in Ireland, he proclaims to all those who fear God, that said murderers and robbers are excommunicated and estranged from Christ, and that it is not lawful to show them civility, nor to eat and drink with them, nor to receive their offerings until, sincerely repenting, they make atonement to God, and liberate his servants, and the hand- maids of Christ. He begs of the faithful, into whose hands the epistle may come, to get it read before the people every where, and before Coroticus himself, and to communicate it to his soldiers, in the hope that they and their master may return to God, &c. Among other very affecting expostulations, he observes, that the Roman and Gallic Christians are wont to send proper persons with great sums of money to the Franks and other Pagans, for the purpose of redeeming Christian captives, while, on the contrary, that monster Coroticus made a trade of selling the members of Christ to nations ignorant of God."* In the course of his episcopal journeyings, it may be presumed that the saint did not travel without meeting difficulties of every kind in- cidental to the state of the country and time. Accordingly, in all the lives we meet narrations of peril by the way, which only require to be divested of the absurd additions with which all the monkish historians and biographers have ornamented them, to have the resemblance of truth. The story of Failge, who, by treachery, attempted to murder the saint in his chariot, and slew his driver in the attempt; the robber Mac- caldus and his associates, of whom one feigned sickness, to make the saint's charity the occasion for his assassination, want but a little change of name and weapon to present no untrue picture of atrocities of re- cent times, attempted in the self-same spirit, though alas with different success ! Of these stories, the latter is at least happily conceived. The robber and his heathen accomplices, doubtless scandalized by the falling away of their country from its ancient superstitions, and fired with in- dignant feelings to which it would not be quite fair to refuse the praise of genuine Irish patriotism, resolved to redress their country's wrongs by waylaying the saint upon his road. The plot was laid, and at the appointed hour (the biographers unjustly rob the patriots of tlie merit of preconcerted design) they were at the place of appointment, when Patrick, ignorant of their laudable purpose, came walking on the road. The assassins had contrived an expedient of native dexterity : knowing that the saint never denied the claim of sickness on his humanity and charity, one of them named Gorran or O'Gorraghane, feigning illness, lay down under a cloak. By this happy contrivance, it seemed evi- dent that the most favourable opportunity would be secured, of knock- ing out his brains while he was bending over the crafty colt who thus deceived his charitable credulity. All this having been arranged, ac- cording to the plot, the other patriots stood around. "Sir," said one of the company as he came up, " one of our party has been taken ill on the road ; will you sing some of your incantations over him, that so he may be restored to health ? " "It would not," replied Patrick, "be in tlie least surprising if he Lanigan, Eccles. Hist. i. 297. 116 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS. were sick." As he uttered these woi-rls very coldly, and without stooping as they expected, the crafty rogues thought to excite his sympathy by assuming the appearance of increased anxiety ; and bend- ing their looks upon their prostrate comrade, they were startled by the change which had passed over his features : he was dead ! The remainder of the story is such as every reader will correctly ima- gine — Maccaldus became a convert — was baptized — became a bishop in the Isle of Man.* Probus, speaking of the same person, says, " Hie est Macfail episcopus clarus et sanctus postmodum efiFectus in Evoni- casium civitate, cujus nos adjubant sancta suffragia." Dr Lanigan, who quotes this sentence, as omitted by primate Usher, remarks, as the cause of the omission, " he did not relish the invocation of saints ;" we think Dr Lanigan wrong in supposing that Usher could feel the slightest care about any statement by a monk of the 10th century. We notice this here, not for the purpose of quarrelling about such trifles with our trustworthy guide, but to suggest to the reader of the same class of old legends, one of the useful rules of distinction between probable and improbable. The writer of a legend, if he believes his tale to be untrue, would be likely to mould it to his purpose ; if true his own creed would necessarily suggest constructions, which, believing to be matters of course, he would add as essential parts of the narra- tion. The above expression of Probus belongs to neither of these cases, as it is simply the expression of a pious though superstitious sentiment of his own. As we have ourselves adopted the rule of omit- ting the more marvellous parts of such incidents as we have seen occa- sion to notice, it may also be fit to assure such readers as may not approve of such omissions, as amounting to a denial of these miracu- lous incidents, that it is far from our design to imply such an opinion. We think that the relation of a miracle performed by the primitive missionaries of the gospel of Christ, is neither to be lightly admitted or rashly denied. There cannot be a rational doubt that, if the purpose required such deeds, they would not be wanting. But the sources of imposture are too obvious, not to suggest to every sane mind the ne- cessity of a severe law of admission. Mere presumptive probability, whatever may be its value as confirmation, is useless as evidence — tradition more worthless still — and the legendary writings of so remote a period, require many cori'oborations of existing monuments, concur- ring testimonies, adverse notices, numerous and authenticated copies from documents of genuine character, to g'ive them the least claim upon the historian's assent. St Patrick is still, by his more circumstantial biographers, traced on his way, erecting churches and establishing bishops. Usher men- tions a tradition, still remaining in his own time, heard by himself among the inhabitants of Louth, that the saint had been some time among them. The same writer adds, that having erected a church here, when he afterwards determined to found his cathedral of Armagh, he appointed to the place a British ecclesiastic of great piety, named Maccheus.f In the course of this tour he also visited Dublin, where he converted * Joceline, &c. f Usher, Prim. 855. COLUMBKILLE. 117 and baptized Alpliin, the king, with all his people, in a fountain called, after him, Patrick's well. He also built a church, on the foundation of which the cathedral of St Patrick was afterwards raised. The fountain Usher mentions as having seen it, " not far from the steeple, but lately obstructed and inclosed amongst private houses." It is also mentioned by Usher, from the Black Book of Christ's church, that the vaults of this cathedral had existence previous to the coming of St Patrick, having been built "by the Danes;" but that he celebrated the eucharist in one of those vaults, afterwards called the vault of St Patrick. It is with most likelihood computed, that it was after these long and laborious wanderings, after he had established his church on the best foundations which circumstances permitted, that he bent his steps towards the north, with the Intention of establishing a primatial see, and confirming his labours by a body of canons. With this in view he reached the place then called Denein Sailrach, and since Ar- magh. From the chief of this district he obtained possession of a lai'ge tract, and founded a city upon it : " large in compass, and beautiful in situation, with monastery, cathedral, schools, &c., and resolved to estab- lish it as the primatial see of the Irish chm'ch." This foundation, ac- cording to Usher and Harris, took place in 445. Here, and at his favourite retreat at Sabhul, he probably spent the remainder of his life. To the same period must also I)e referred the canons universally ascribed to him, and supposed to iiave been ordained in a synod held in Armagh. Tliey are yet extant, and many of tlieir provisions are such as to indicate their antiquity. Omitting the absurdity of a visit to Home in his old age, we may now close our perhaps too rapid sketch of his eventful life. Amongst the last of his acts was the sketch he has left us of his life, under the title of Confession. This simple, characteristic, often affecting, and always unpretending document, is precisely what the occasion and the character of the writer required, and is quite free from the difficulties which affect his more recent memoirs. He speaks of approaching death, and returns thanks for the mercies of God to himself, and to the Irish, &c. He was seized with his last illness at Saul, or Sabhul, near Downpatrick. Wishing to die in Armagh, he attempted the journey, but was compelled by his complaint to return, and breathed his last on the 17th of March. " COLUMBKILLE. At an early period, the precise origin of which is not ascertained on any sufficient data, Christianity was introduced into England. But in the still barbarous state of its inhabitants, devoid of even the first rudiments of art and literature, there was no soil into which a national faith, inculcating the principles of a liigh civilization, and claiming a moral and intellectual assent and conformity, could well strike root. A constant strife of petty kings, and a succession of desolating revolu- tions, suspended the progress of every civilizing influence, and repress- ed the human mind; and the newly-implanted faith, after a precarious struggle, in which it never gained its true position, was swept away by the Anglo-Saxon conquest. From this a long period of heathen dark- ness followed, during which there is nothing to call for the observa- tion of the ecclesiastical historian; unless the contemplation of that low and degraded state of human nature, which manifests in stronger contrast the powers of revealed truth to civilize and enlighten, as well as to redeem. From the Anglo-Saxon wars in the 5th and the begin- ning of the 6th centuries, there was, through the whole of the latter century, an interval of extreme ignorance and darkness, until the me- morable arrival of Augustin and his missionary train, in 596. It was during this night of the British churches, that a bright and steady light of religion and civilization was kindled in the northern island of Hy, from untraceable antiquity the seat of heathen idolatries. There, amid the waves of the northern sea, the word of power and the arts of civil life obtained a permanent habitation ; and, through the darkness of the unsettled age, sent out the message of peace and truth ; and in better times spread far and wide its saving light among the reviving churches of the British isle. In noticing these facts it would be a grievous omission to pass unnoticed the strong reflex evidence they cast upon the antiquities of the Irish chm-ch. The ages of revolution which have oversweptour island so repeatedly, have carried away much of that evidence of ancient things which impresses the eye of common observation with the sense of conviction : the visible remains tell too little, and history does us wrong. But the history and the remains of lona have derived, from its isolated station, a permanency ; and from its connexion with antiquity, a celebrity, which carries back inquiry to a further date, and unfolds a steady and graphic gleam of that ancient church, from the bosom of which it first threw tlie glorious light of redemption over tiie waves of the north. Whatever fatal destruction may have, by repeated spoliations and burnings, obliterated the better part of our annals; whatever lying legends render trutli itself suspicious in records which a later time has produced ; or whatever barbarism of recent times may seem to contradict all our pretensions : it must yet be felt, that the ancient church, from which the whole of noi-th Britain, and, we may add, so many churches of Europe, drew their most illustrious minds and their efficient beginnings, could not have been less eminent for the gifts they communicated than is affirm- ed by the most high-coloured tradition. And it must be felt, that what- ever we are to subtract for legendary invention, and misrepresentations arising from the doctrinal errors of after time, the facts, after all, are likely to be as much incorrect from omission as from addition; and that, however the historians of later times may err in details, yet there is no reason for rejecting the high claim of the antiquity of the Irish church. According to a biograjiher of the I6th century: " Towards the middle of the 6th centui-y of redemption, in which Hibernia, the island of saints, shone with saints as numerous as the stars of heaven, there arose in the same island a new star, which excelled all others, as the sun outshines the lesser stars of heaven." This star was Columbkille, whose birth probably happened about 521. He was of a COLUMBKILLE. 119 rojal race, being a lineal descendant, in the fourth generation, from Niall of the Nine Hostages. His father's name was Feidlim; his mother's, Ethnea, eminent for piety, and, like her husband, of royal descent. During her pregnancy this lady had a dream, that a person of majestic stature and presence stood before her, and presented her with a splendid veil, which she had scarcely touched, when, escaping from her hand, it rose upon the air, floated away, and expanded before her astonished eyes, as it receded into distance, until its vast folds were spread abroad far over hill, valley, forest, and lake. Turning to her solemn visitant, he told her that it was too precious to be left in her possession. This dream did not fail to receive its interpretation as it was accomplished in the events of Columba's after life. At his baptism, he is said to have received the name of Criomthan. The followinp* o translation of the legend of this circumstance may be received as a specimen of the style and manner of those early poetic legends, iu which so much of the history of this period has been preserved: — " The pious Christian hero CoUumcille, When he was haptized, received the nume Of Criomthan Ohiin ; his guardian angel Was the most watchful Axall ; hut the demon Who, with infernal malice stung, attended Upon the saint, to torture and torment him, Was called Demal.' The change of name is referred, by one of his biographers, to acci- dent, and may well have occurred as related, though rendered doubtful by the superstitious tone which seemed to refer every slight occurrence to special design. His exceeding meekness attracted the attention of the children of the neighbourhood, who were accustomed to see him coming forth to meet them at the gate of the monastery in which he received his education, and by a fanciful adaptation, common enough to lively children, they called him the " pigeon of the church," which, in Irish, is " Collum na cille." The childish soubriquet adhered to him, and had perhaps taken the place of a name, when it caught the atten- tion, and excited the superstitious fancy of his guardian, Florence, who set it down as the special indication of the intention of Providence, and from thenceforth called him Collum cille. He is stated to have studied in Down, under the eminent St Finian, and other pious persons ; and began early to acquire reputation for sanctity and knowledge of Scriptm-e. The first forty- three years of his life were passed in Ireland, where he founded several monasteries; of which one is thus noticed by Bede: '' Before St Columb came into Britain, he founded a noble monastery in Ireland, in a place which, from a great plenty of oaks, is, in the language of the Scots, called Dearmach, i. e. ' the field of oaks.' " This Ware describes as the " same house with the Augustinian monasteries, now called Durrogh or Darmagh, in the King's county." Another of his foundations was near the city of Derry. The history of this monastery and city from the annalists, may be cited for the miniature outline which it may be said to reflect of Irish history. * Keitliiiif. . 120 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS. Founded about 546, on a large tract of land, said to have been granted to Columbkille by prince Aidan, a descendant from the same royal house, it grew into a large and prosperous city and monastery. In the Annals of the Four blasters, are the following entries of its cala- mities from the 8th century. In 783, Derry Calgach was burned ; 989, it was plundered by foreigners; the same entry occurs for 997; in 1095, the abbey was burned. In 1124, a prince of Aileach was slain, in an assault of the church of Columbkille; 1 135, Derry- Columb- kille, with it churches, was burned; 1149, it was burned; 1166, it underwent another burning; 1195, the church was plundered. In 1203, Derry was burned from the burial ground of St Martin, to the well of Adamnan. In 1211, the town was plundered and destroyed. In 1213, it was again plundered- In 1214, it was, with the whole district (O'Neill's country), granted, by king John, to Thomas Mac- Uchtred, earl of Athol. In 1222, Derry was plundered by O'Neill * This appears to have been the favourite residence of the holy man; it was rendered sacred by the recollection of his pious deeds, and the traditions of his miraculous works. Among the most interesting of the ancient memorials of his affection for the place, is a passage in his life by O'Donnel, in which it is mentioned as his desire, that the delight- ful grove, near the monastery of Derry, should for ever remain uncut. And that if any of the trees should happen to fall, or be torn up by a storm, it should not be removed for nine days. The tenth of its price was then to be given to the poor, a third reserved for the hospitable hearth, and the remainder, something more than half, distributed among the citizens. So great was his regard for this grove, that, being about to found the church called Dubh-reigleas, when it was found to stand in the way, so as to confine the intended site — sooner than destroy any of his favourite trees, he ordered the building to be erected in a direction transverse to the common position, from east to west. But that this might not occasion a depai^ture from the usual practice, he ordered the table, at which he commonly officiated, to be erected m the eastern end, " which the remains of the aforesaid church, exist- ing at the present day, confirms."| Columbkille is said to have found- ed many other monasteries ; O'Donnel states the number at 300 ; the more probable number of 100 is adopted by Usher, from Joccline. It, however, is the more difficult to be precise, as there is much con- fusion on account of the numerous persons bearing the name of Co- lumba: the extensive jurisdiction of his monastery in lona, seems to attest at least that many others were founded by the same person. Having established his monastery of Derry, we are told by O'Donnel, he was seized by a violent desire to travel through the whole country, and awaken all its inhabitants to the study of piety. In the course of this circuit, he visited I^agenia, Connaught, the county of Meath, &c. ; wherever he came, founding and restoring churches, and exciting every sex and rank to piety. Not the least space, in the relation of these adventures, is commonly bestowed on the miracles of the saint, * For these facts we are indebted to an extract given by Mr Petrie, in his mas- terly article upon the antiquities of Derry, in that valuable work now proceeding IVoni the Ordiuince Survey. \ Colgan, Thaum. p. 398. COLUMBKILLE. 121 It was probably after tbls foundation that he received the order of priesthood from Etehen, bishop of Clonfadln. The story is curious enough. By the consent of the ecclesiastics of his neighbourhood, he was sent to Etehen, bishop of a neighbouring diocese, to be made a bishop of. When he arrived, the bishop was, according to the usage of this early period, engaged in ploughing his field. Columb- klUe was kindly received, and stated that he came for ordination. But it did not occur to him to specify the orders he came for. The bishop, knowing that he had only received deacon's orders, very naturally pursued the common course and gave him priest's orders. When this oversight became known, he offered to consecrate him a bishop, but Columbkille, who looked on the circumstance as a mani- festation of the will of God, declined this further step. The story derives some confirmation from the circumstance that he never be- came a bishop, though occupying the station and authority in an eminent degree. But it is as the apostle of the Plcts, that Columbkille is entitled to the distinction of being here thus diffusely noticed. Until his time, but slight inroads had been made on the paganism of the northern parts of the district, as yet unknown by the name of Scotland. In the 4th century, the preaching of St Nlnlan had been attended with small success among the Southern Picts: St Kentigern, from the districts of Northumbria, had followed without obtaining any more efficient result. Of these persons and their preaching the accounts are per- plexed and unsatisfactoi-y, nor is the broken and tangled thread ot their history worth our attempting to unravel here: suffice it, that there seems to have been a widespread predominance of heathenism, both in Scotland and the northern realms of England, in 534, when Columbkille, owing to circumstances imperfectly related, and of slight interest, went over to attempt the conversion of the Northern Picts. O'Donnel mentions his having levied war against king Dermod, for a decision oppressive and tyrannical to the church of Ireland; and de- scribes a battle in which the troops of Columbkille gained the victory with much slaughter.* The story Is inconsistent with the character of Columbkille. There is another which, though liable to the same objection, is yet worth telling, because it is likely to Involve a certain portion of truth, and as characteristic of the time. According to O'Donnel, Columbkille was the guest of Flnian, of Clanblle, who lent him a copy of some part of the holy Scripture to read: Columbkille, who was celebrated for his penmanship, soon began to transcribe the manuscript. Flnian, on being told of the circumstance, highly resented it, and insisted on his right to the copy which Columbkille had taken. Columbkille referred the case to the arbitration of king Dermod, who decided in favour of Flnian. This injustice was, according to the story, retaliated by a threat of vengeance, quite as inconsistent with the whole character ot Columbkille, as Finian's resentment and its motive were unworthy of a Christian of any age. A more probable story mentions an outrage committed by Dermod, which Is assigned as leading to the war which * ColL'an, Tliauii). -JUtJ. 122 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS. followed : A son of the king of Counaught, pursued by Dermod, took refuge with Colunibkille, from the influence of whose rank and sanctity he hoped for protection; the liceatious fury of king Dermod, however, was stopped by no consideration of reverence or regard, and the youth was dragged from the arms of his protector, and murdered before his face. An outrage so aggravated, bearing the atrocious character of sacrilege joined with cruelty, appealed loudly to the compassion and piety of the royal relations of Columbkille, and those of the murdered prince. The forces of Tyrone and Connaught were raised, and the battle of Culedreibhne (near Sligo) took place. To this statement it is added, that during the battle, while Finian prayed for Dermod's party., their antagonists were backed by the more effective devotions of Columbkille. Dermod was defeated with a loss of three thousand men; while the allies, as the tale runs, lost but one. This otherwise incredible disproportion is, however, made quite natural by the addi- tional circumstance — that during- the battle a gigantic angel made its appearance among the ranks of Tyrone and Connaught, and struck their enemies with panic and dismay. These passages — of which we may say with Usher " quod poetica magis quam historica fide habetur hie descriptum" — though they cannot be received as the truth, are yet valuable as exhibiting the mode of thinking of an age, and as indicating what may be called the actual poetry of the age of saints; they are also, it must be said., likely to contain as much of the truth as can be, by any ])ossibility, extracted from among the dreams and legendary concretions, the frauds and conflicting statements, of traditionary history. The only fixed point in the narrative is the fact, that the battle was fought about the year 561. We shall not unnecessarily lengthen our narrative, with the equally doubtful tales of the excom- UHinication or the penance of Columbkille, in consequence of his share in these transactions. It was probably in 563, about two years after the battle of Cule- dreibhne, that Columbkille, leaving a scene in which he was Incessantly harassed by the feuds, animosities, and tyrannies, of his royal enemies and friends, migrated to try his success among the Picts. The follow- ing is part of the account given by Bede: — " Columba arrived in Britain in the ninth year of Brude, the son of Meilochon, king of the Picts, who was a potent king, and whose subjects were, by his preaching and example, converted to the Christian faith. On this account he obtained fi-om them the above-mentioned island as a demesne for his monastery." In accordance with this account, it is said, he landed at the island, " Inish Druinish," or island of Druids, and having successfully laboured for the conversion of the Picts, and converted their king, he received from him the possession of the island of Hy, or lona, still called I b> the natives. Another account which, with Lanigan, we are inclined to think far more probable, represents Columbkille as having obtained possession of the island from his relative, Conall, king of the Irish Scots, then settled in North Britain. This opinion is supported by Dr Lanigan, from the Annals of Tighernach and Ulster, and enforced by the opinion of Usher, who observes that Hy was too distant from the British territories to have been part of them: while the position of Conall was such as to make it highly improbable that he should not have been its possessor. In either case, it seeins that it was at the time occupied by the Druids, whose remains are affirmed to be yet traceable there. These he expelled, and began his operations by the erection of huts, and a temporary church of slight materials. Having thus effected his settlement, he began his operations in those wild regions north of the Grampian hills, where no Christian preacher had ever before made his way ; and ere long succeeded in converting king Brude, with his court and people, who soon followed the example of their king. There is something in the history of these rapid and total conversions, which seems to lend a doubtful air to this period of church history. It is, however, in conformity with the entire history of the Christian church. The same All-disposing Power, which enabled the primitive teachers to triumph over the wide- spread and deep-seated obstacles presented by the gorgeous and sensual heathenisni of Greece and Rome guarded as it was, with imposing philosophy, and ornamented by poetry and the arts, was also present to guide and give efficacy to the apostles of the British churches, who had obstacles of a less formid- able nature to contend with. The paganism of the barbarian Pict had little in its constitution to hold captive either the taste, passions, or reason. The very first lessons of the gospel carried, in the apt simpli- city of their adaptation to the wants and defects of humanity, an evi- dence which must have been more impressive, as those wants were the less supplied from all other sources. Without hastily adopting the miraculous narrations of monkish historians, the Christian reader will also readily acknowledge, that the powers of the Spirit, which never deserted the missionaries who founded and extended the church of Christ, cannot be supposed to have been less boimtiful of its gifts than the occasion required. And if we feel obliged to reject narrations which want all the characters either of evidence or adaptation, on a just view of the general analogy of God's dealing, as evidenced in the authentic records of the sacred history: even here, too, it must be kept in mind, that the circumstances were different, and that a different kind of opposition was to be encountered. This, however, we offer rather as a reason against sweeping incredulity, than as warranting the affirmation of any special instance we have met with. The cause of sacred truth imposes strict severity in the reception of the miracu- lous ; and while we insist on even the necessity of such (the only un- questionable) attestations of Divine authority, we cannot admit the simplest case on the authority of an unsupported legend. Hence we offer the few of these which we have admitted, rather as curious illus- trations, than as authorized facts. Among such we may relate the first adventure of our saint among his Highland neighbours. Arriving at the residence of king Brude, his entrance was denied by the inhos- pitable gates of the pagan king. After suing for admission to no purpose ; and, we must suppose, allowing a fair time for the use of gentler means, Columbkille advanced, and signing the cross upon the stubborn doors, they flew open at a gentle push, and admitted the saint with his company. The king was in council when he was disturbed with the account of the startling prodigy; yielding at once to the influence of astonishment and superstitious fear, he went forth with 124 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS. his council to meet the formidable visitor. Finding his errand to be one of benevolence and peace, and aflfected by the eloquence of his language, and the venerable sanctity of his manner, presence, and com- pany, he received him with respect and kindness, and submitted to receive his instructions. The result rests on less doubtful grounds. Then began the conversion of the northern Picts. In the mean time we may assume the growth of the Island church. His fame was soon widely diffused, disciples flocked from all quarters, and the means probably increasing with the increase of his flock, he soon considerably enlarged his foundation to more proportionable dimensions ; the buildings increased in niunber and size ; and the wide- spread remains of an ancient monastery and nunnery olfer the most authentic record of the saint's power and successful labours. At first, it is said, St Columbkille refused to permit the foundation of a nunnery : he, probably, like his more legendary countrymen, Saints Senanus and Kevin, found natural reason in the infirmity of the human passions. He soon, however, learnt to regret the error of overhasty zeal : constant observation taught him to revere the sanctity of a colony of Augustinian nuns, who dwelt in another small island in the vicinity, and they were in a little time permitted to dispel the gloom of his monastic domain, by settling in the same island, to the mutual improvement, it may be easily judged, of both. There seems, from the still perceptible ruins of these ancient edifices, to have been a broid paved way, leading from the nunnery to the cathedral, where the two communities met in the festivals, and solemn hours of devotion, without the levity of an earthly aspiration, and parted with their piety exalted by a communion which never fails to expand and warm every affection of the breast. There is nothing in these ruins from which their precise date can be fixed. On the island are the remains of edifices built at different periods, during the interval between the 6th and 12th centuries, when the importance of the place declined. The following is a recent descrip- tion: — "The remains of these edifices, almost all constructed of fine sienlte, together with crosses and sepulchral monuments, are the anti- quities now extant. The exact date of some of the former is known, but the church is said to have been built by queen Margaret, towards the latter end of the 11th century. This, though inferior to many other structures, was a magnificent edifice for that period. No polished work is employed, but the stone, which is compared to the finest used by the ancients, has been brought to a plain surface. Many blocks five or six feet long are seen in the walls, and also in the rubbish. The church is built in the form of a cross, 164 feet long without, and 34 broad. The body of the church is 60 feet in length, and the two aisles of the transept or cross, are each 30 feet long, and 18 broad, within the walls. The choir is 60 feet in length ; within it are several fine pillars, carved in the gothic way, with great variety of fanciful and ludicrous, representing parts of Scripture history. Amongst the rest is an angel, with a pair of scales, weighing souls, and the devil keeping down that in which is the weight with his paw. On his face is portrayed a sly and malicious grin. The east window is a beautiful specimen of gothic workmanship. In the middle of the cathedral rises a tower 22 feet square, and between 70 and 80 higli, COLUMBKILLE. 1:25 supported by four arches, and ornamented with has reliefs. At the upper end of the chancel stood a large table or altar of pure white marble, 6 feet long and 4 broad, curiously veined and polished. Of this beautiful fragment of antiquity there are now scarcely any remains, as it has been all carried off piece-meal by visitants, as relics, and by the natives, from a superstitious belief that a piece of it was a pre- servative from shipwreck. Near where this altar stood, on the north side, is a tombstone of black marble, on which is a fine recumbent figure of the abbot Macfingone, exceedingly well executed, as large as life, with an inscription in Latin as follows: — ' Here lies John Mackinnon, abbot of lona, who died A. D. 1500, to whose soul may the Most High be merciful.' Opposite to this tomb, on the other side, executed in the same manner, is the tombstone of abbot Kenneth. On the floor is the figure of an armed knight, with an animal sprawl- ing at his feet. On the right side of the church, but contiguous to it, are the remains of the college, some of the cloisters of which are still visible. The common hall is entire, with stone seats for the disputants. A little to the north of the cathedral are the remains of the bishop's house, and on the south is a chapel dedicated to St Oran, pretty entire, 60 feet long, and 22 broad, within the walls, but nearly filled up with rubbish and monumental stones. In this are many tombstones of marble, particularly of the great Lords of the Isles. South of the chapel is an enclosm*e called Reilig Ouran, ' the burying ground of Oran,'containing a great number of tombs, but so over-grown with weeds as to render few of the inscriptions legible. In this enclosm-e lie the remains of forty-eight Scottish kings, four kings of Ireland, eight Norwegian monarchs, and one king of France, who were ambitious of reposing on this consecrated ground, where their ashes would not mix with the dust of the vulgar. South from the cathedral and St Orau's chapel, are the ruins of the nunnery, the church of which is still pretty entire, being 58 feet by 20 on the floor, which is thickly covered with cow-dung, except at the east end, which Mr Pennant caused to be cleaned, and where the tomb of the last prioress is discernible, though considerably defaced." From this retreat Columbkille occasionally visited Ireland. One occasion may be selected, as showing in a strong light the influence of the saint, and the political state of the time. It Avas about the year 573-4, that king Aidan, the successor of Conal on the Pictish throne, put in his claim to the sovereignty of a large part of the county Antrim, as a descendant from its first proprietor, Cairbre Riada, and asserted the freedom of this territory from the paramount sovereig-nty of the Irish monarch. Columbkille resolved to accompany his patron. After a tempestuous passage they landed in Ireland, and at once proceeded to Drumceat, where the National Assembly were sitting; engaged, it would seem, on a question respecting the order of bards, who were at this early period beginning to wax numerous, insolent, and troublesome, so much so, that it was thought necessary to devise some remedy, either by reduction of their numbers and privileges, or by a total suppression of the order. The question was decided, by the timely arrival and interposition of the Saint, so far in favour of these licensed liars that they were still permitted to exist, and spin out the 126 EAKLY IRISH CHRISTIANS. fabulous additions which give an apocryphal tone to our tradition. On the introduction of the more important suit between the kings, the question was, by general consent, referred to the wisdom and impar- tiality of the venerable bishop — a reference made singular by the fact of his peculiar connexion with the Scottish claimant. Columbkille, no doubt sensible of this impropriety, and conscious of a natural de- sire for the success of his own friend, declined the office, and it was transferred to St Colman, who decided against king Aidan, on the obvious and just ground, that the territory was an Irish province. After visiting his foundations in Ireland, the bishop returned to his Island church, where, shortly after, he felt the approach of his last illness. Sensible of the advance of death, he retired to a small emi- nence, from which he was enabled to overlook the holy settlement which was the work of his piety, and the last earthly object of his aflFections. Here, lifting up his hands and eyes to heaven, he invoked emphatic blessings on his monastery. After this prayer, descending from the hill, and returning to the monastery, he sat down in his shed or hut, '■'•ttigurio" to transcribe the Paattei' ; and coming to that verse of the 3d Psalm, where it is written, that good shall not be wanting* to those who trust in God, he said " Here I must stop at the end of this page, let Baithen write what is to follow." Notwithstanding this he so far rallied as to attend evening service, after which he retired to his cell, and lay down on his stone bed. Again at midnig-ht, he made another effort to attend the church, but finding his strength to fail, he sunk before the altar. Here the monks immediately following-, saw their revered head extended in the last faint torpor of ajjproach- ing death. Gathering round with their torches, they were giving way to their sorrow, when, as the writer of his life says, "as I heard from some who were present, the saint — whose life had not yet departed — opened his eyes, and looked round with wonderful joy and cheerfulness: then Diermitius raised the saint's right hand to bless the train of monks; but the venerable father himself, at the same time, moved it by a voluntary effort for this purpose, and in the effort he expired, being then 76 years of age."* " The name of this eminent man," writes Mr Moore, " though not so well known throughout the Latin church, as that of another Irish saint with whom he is frequently confounded, holds a distinguished place among the Roman and other martyrologies, and in the British isles will long be remembered with traditional veneration. In Ireland, rich as have been her annals in names of saintly renown, for none has she continued to cherish so fond a reverence through all ages as for her great Columbkille; while that isle of the waves with which his name is now inseparably connected, and which through his ministry became the luminary of the Caledonian regions, has far less reason to boast of her numerous tombs of kings, than of those heaps of votive pebbles left by pilgrims on her shore, marking the path that once led to the honoured shrine of her saint. So great was the reverence paid to his remains in North Britain, that at the time when the island of Hy began to be infested by the Danes, Kenneth the Third had his * Extract from Keatinir, ii. 107. COLUMBKILLE. 127 hones removed to Duiikekl, on the river Tay, and there founding- a church, dedicated it to his memory, while the saint's crosier, and a few other relics, were all that fell to the share of the land of his birth." In the Annals of' the jFour Mastets, for the year 1006, we find mention made of a splendid copy of the Four Gospels., said to have been written by Columbkille's own hand, and preserved at Kells in a cover richly ornamented with gold.* In the time of Usher, this pre- cious manuscript was still numbered among the treasures of Kells,t and if not written by Columbkille himself, is little doubted to have been the work of one of his disciples. Of the prophecies of Columbkille there are some curious accounts. The first is of the arrival of the English, and their subduing' Ireland. Giraldus Cambrensis takes notice of the fulfilling of this prophecy. " Then," says he, " was fulfilled the prophecy of Columb of Ireland, as it is said to be, who long since foretold, that in this war there should be so great a slaughter of the inhabitants, that their enemies should swim in their blood. And the same prophet writes (as it is reported), that a certain poor man and a beggar, and one as it were banished from other countries, should with a small force come to Down, and should take possession of the city, without authority from his superior. He also foretold many wars, and various events. All which are manifestly completed in John Courcy, who is said to have held this prophetic book, written in Irish, in his hand, as the mirror of his works. One reads likewise in the same book, that a certain young man, with an armed force, should violently break through the walls of Waterford, and, having- made a great slaughter among the citizens, should possess himself of the city. That the same young man should march through Wexford, and at last without difficulty enter Dublin. All which it is plain were fulfilled by earl Richard. Further, that the city of Limerick should be twice deserted by the English, but the third time should be held. Now already it seems it hath been twice deserted, first by Raymond, secondly by Philip de Braosa, &c., wherefore (according to the said prophecy), the city being a third time assaulted, shall be retained, or rather, it was long after fraudulently ovei-thrown under the government of Hamo de Valoinges, Lord Justice, and by Meller recovered and repaired." Thus far Cambrensis, who afterwards mentions this prophecy, as well as that of other saints on the same subject, in these words : — " The Irish are said to have foui* prophets — Moling, Brecan, Patrick, and Columbkille, whose books in their native language are yet extant * Uslier mentions also another copy of the Gospels, said to have been written liy Columbkille's own hand, which liad been preserved at the monastery, founded l)V that saint at Durrogh. " Inter cnjus x.uf/.ifiXta. Evangeliorum codex vetustissimus asservabatur, quem ipsius Colnmb» fnisse monachi dictitabant. Ex quo, et non minoris antiqnitatis altero, eidem Columbse assignato (quem in urbe iSellrS sive i^enllS dicta Midenses sacrum habent) diligente cum editione vulgata Latina colla- tione facta, in nostros usus variantium lectionum binos libellos concinnavimus." — Eccles. Piiinnrd., 691. t This Kells manuscript is supposed to have been the same now preserved in the library of Trinity College, Dublin, on the margin of which, are the following words, written bv O'Fliherty, in the year 1677: — " Liber autem hie scriptiis est manu ipsius B. Columbse."' — Moore. 128 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS. among them. Speaking of this conquest, they all bear witness that, in after times, Ireland should be polluted with many conflicts, long strifes, and much bloodshed. But they all say, that the English shall not have a complete victory, till a little before the day of judgment. That the island of Ireland should be totally subdued from sea to sea, and curbed in by castles, and though the people of England, by trying the fate of war, should often happen to be disordered and weakened (as Brecan testifies, that a certain king should march from the desert mountains of Patrick, and on Sunday should break into a certain camp in the woody parts of Ophelan, and almost all the English be drove out of Ireland), yet by the assertions of the same prophets, they should continually keep possession of the eastern maritime parts of the island." This is the account of Cambrensis, written upwards of 500 years ago. ST. COLUMBAJSrUS. A. D. 559—615. This illustrious saint and writer was the descendant of a noble family in the province of Leinster. Of his youth we have no accounts distinct enough to be relied upon. He is, however, credibly reported to have been conspicuous for the singular beauty of his person ; and it is more than hinted by some of his biographers, that he was in consequence exposed to temptations, which for a time must have rendered it a doubt- ful matter whether posterity was to be edified by the sanctity, or warned by the frailties of his subsequent career. Such is the history often of the most holy men ; as the saint must, in all cases, be more or less the result of a conquest over human frailty. Fortunately for himself and the world, the saint prevailed, and the young Columbanus had the fii'mness to achieve the greatest triumph which human strength can win over temptation, by flying from the dangerous field. He tore himself, doubtless with pain and after many serious conflicts of the heart, from his father's house, and the temptations by which he was beset; his youthful pride and passions, "Nihii tarn sanctum religione (says an ancient author of his life) tamque custodid clausum, quod penetrare libido 7iequeat" From his native province he retired to the monastery of Banchor, in Ulster, where, under the tuition of Saint Coemgall, he spent a con- siderable portion of his life in holy meditation and study- Here he continued to attain experience, patience, firmness, and self-command, with the knowledge of men and books, which were necessary for the career for which he was designed, till the mature age of fifty, when feeling, doubtless, that the time was at length arrived for the useful application of his attainments, he selected twelve of his companions — we may safely infer, men of piety and learning — and crossed over to Gaul, where there was at this period an ample field for the exertions of holy men. At this time, the state of Christianity in France had fallen into the most melancholy depravation. The prelates had nearly forgotten ST. COLUMBANUS. 129 the common decencies of Christian society, and altogether lost sight of the dignity and duties of their sacred calling. They had, m com- mon with their flocks, relapsed into the barbarism of savage life, and the rudeness of paganism, and were virtually to be reconverted to the faith which they had solemnly professed. The consequence was, an abundant gro^vth of superstition, and the decay of the yet imperfectly established religion of the gospel. Such a state of things held out an ample field for the work of conversion, and afforded highly beneficent occupation to the numerous tribes of the monastic orders, who, whatever may have been their demerits in later times, may, we think, be recognised as instrumental to the preservation and further- ance of Christianity, in these perplexed and semi-barbarous periods. St Columbanus found a spot adapted to the retirement of his taste, and the sanctity of his purpose, in the g'loomy and sequestered forests of Upper Burgundy, in the neighbourhood of the Alps. Here, in this savage region, as yet perhaps unpenetrated by the noise and depravity of life, he had twelve cabins built for himself and his companions, of whom most, perhaps all, were afterwards to be the missionaries to other realms. The fame of his eloquence and learning, and of the sanctity of the company, soon drew the inhabitants in vast crowds from every quarter, settlements arose in the vicinity, and the saint was soon enabled to erect the monastery of Luxeuil. Here he remained about twenty years, during which he acquired great influence and renown. Some of his historians report, and probably believed, that he worked divers wonderful works, of which the greater part seem to have been at the expense of the wild beasts of the surrounding wilderness, which were subdued by his sanctity, and fled or fell before his power. Among the concourse of his followers and disciples, many were of noble birth, and many possessing ample means and influence. Not a few of these devoted themselves to the pious pursuits of the monastic life; and, while they created the necessity, at the same time supplied the means of extending the institutions of the saint. Another monas- tery was built in a more select situation, and, from the springs with which it abounded, received the name of Fontaines. In the course of a ministration, the immediate duties of which were such as to imply a continued struggle between the principles of Chris- tianity and the moral as well as political disorder and misrule of the age and nation, resistance to wrong armed with power must have been a consequence in no way to be avoided, unless by an unholy compro- mise with expediency or fear, and such were little to be found in the rigid sanctity and firm character of the saint. These virtues found their fitting exercise from the vice and tyranny of the Burgundian prince and his vindictive mother, queen Brunehaut, The detail of the petty collisions between the low and vindictive pride of barbaric royalty and the stern sanctity of this primitive reformer, abound with touches of moral truth which confer the seeming, at least, of authen- ticity upon the legendary historians of the saint and his times. " They will be found worthy, however, of a brief passing notice, less as his- tory than as pictures for the imagination, in which the figure of the stern but simple and accomplished missionary stands out to the eye r. I Ir. 130 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS. with the more force and dig-nity, from the barbaric glare and pomp of the scenes and personages round him." " Thus, on one occasion when the queen dowager, seeing him enter the royal courts, brought forth the four illegitimate children of king Thierry to meet him, the saint emphatically demanded what they wanted. ' They are the king's children,' answered Brunehaut, ' and are come to ask your blessing.' ' These children,' replied Colum- banus, ' will never reign, they are the offspring of debauchery.' Such insulting opposition to her designs for her grand-children roused all the rage of this Jezebel, and orders were issued for withdi-awing some privileges which the saint's monasteries had hitherto enjoyed. For the purpose of remonstrating against this w'rong he sought the palace of the king ; and, while waiting the royal audience, rich viands and wines were served up for his refreshment. But the saint sternly re- fused to partake of them, saying, ' It is written, the Most High rejects the gifts of the impious ; nor is it fitting that the mouths of the ser- vants of God should be defiled with the viands of one who inflicts on them such indignities.' "* Another scene, described by the pictm-esque pen of the same agree- able writer, we must abridge for our purpose. One of the regulations which met with the censure and resistance of the court, was that which restricted the access to the interior of the monastery. The in- vidious feeling thus excited was seized on by the watchful malice of queen Brunehaut, as an instrument of persecution. For this purpose she instigated an attempt to put to the proof the monastery's right. King Thierry, followed by a numerous and gorgeous train of his courtiers and nobles, approached its gates. As they rudely forced their way, the saint, surprised by the noise of unhallowed and disre- spectful violence, came forth, and, as they had gained the door of the refectory, stood before them in the way. The king, still forcing in, addressed him, " If you desire to derive any benefit from our bounty, these places must be thrown open to every comer." The singular gra- vity and dignity of Columbanus's form and aspect are authentic facts of history ; and when these are recollected, it may enable the reader to conceive the full effect which Mr Moore ascribes to the following em- phatic answer of the saint to the intruding king : — " If you endeavour to violate the discipline here established, know that I dispense with your presents, and with every aid that it is in your power to lend; and if you now come hither to disturb the monasteries of the servants of God, I tell you that your kingdom shall be destroyed, and with it all your royal race." The king- was terrified, and withdrew with his astonished train. The consequence was, however, such as to fulfil the immediate de- sign of the vindictive Brunehaut. It was intimated to the saint, that as his system was unsuited to the place, it was fit he should leave it. Mr Moore, on this occasion, cites a speech attributed to king Thierry which, as he justly observes, " betrays no want either of tolerance, or of the good sense from which that virtue springs." " I perceive you hope," said Thierry, "that I shall give you the crown of martyrdom; but I * Moore's Ireland, i. 261. ST. COLUMBANUS. 131 am not so unwise as to commit so heinous a crime. As your system, however, differs from that of all other times, it is but right that you should return to the place from whence you came." The saint refused to submit to any compulsion short of armed force, and accordingly a party of soldiers were detached to his retreat. None but his country- men and a few British monks were allowed to follow him: they were conducted by an armed party on their way to Ireland. It was on their arrival at Auxerre that Columbanus gave utterance to a prediction, which was shortly accomplished, — " Remember what I now tell you ; that very Clothaire whom ye now despise will, in three years' time, be your master." Accident prevented the destination which would have interrupted the allotted labour of the missionary saint, and converted the malice of his enemies into the means of extending the scope of his piety and exertion. He was left at liberty to choose his course, and visited the courts of Clothaire and Theodebert. Both of these kings received him kindly, but he soon had won the confidence of Clothaire ; nor is it improbable, that the judicious advice of the counsellor contributed to fulfil the prediction of the saint. He now engaged in an active course of missionary exertion, in which he visited many places in France and Germany, after which his course was determined, by the reports which he was continually hearing of the growing power of his enemies in Franche Compte. To remove himself more completely from their malice, he resolved to pass into Italy. In Italy, his uncompromising vigour of character had fresh occasion for display. The controversies of the last century were still in their full vigour. After the decrees of councils, and the angry or interested interferences of popes and emperors, the dispute upon the Three Chapters, decided by the condemnation of the writings so called in the council of Constantinople, A. d. 553, still had in its embers heat enough to warm the zeal of another generation in the next century. The pious Theudelinda, queen of the Lombards, with the zeal and perhaps the indiscretion of a recent proselyte, had given offence to the see of Rome, by her protection of the bishops who obstinately held out in schism against this decision of a council. It is supposed that the Lombard court were drawn from their error by the judicious and moderate persuasion of Gregory; but however this may have been, it more certainly appears, that on the arrival of St Columbanus, the Lombards had again fallen back into the same heretical opinions. King Agilulph was the first of the Lombard kings who had embraced Christianity, and his queen had become eminent for her active exer- tions in its cause. By her advice he had hitherto been led to the expenditure of large sums, in the building and endowment of monas- teries ; and it is therefore easily understood, how attractive must a court, thus illustrated by pious and charitable zeal, have been to the wandering steps of the saint. The sentiments of St Columbanvis were, fortunately for this new alliance, in conformity with those of the royal schismatics. By the desire of Agilulph, he addressed a letter of considerable vigour and spirit to Boniface IV., who was at this time bishop of Rome, and the 132 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS. first who held that dignity, which is now comprised in the papacy. In this letter he maintains the views of the schismatics, or opponents to the decision of the 5th General Council, and treats Boniface with very little ceremony. This eminent Christian is said to be the author of many writings yet extant; but of the greater part of these, the genuineness is very uncertain. Among these, a poem, which on the competent testimony of Mr Moore may be described as " of no inconsiderable merit," seems to intimate the great age to which he lived. " Haec tibi dictaram morbis oppressus aceibis Corpora quos fragili patior, tristique senecta." But the date of his death leads to another inference. Worn with the labours, controversies, persecutions, and wanderings of a long life, spent in the service of Christ and the enlightening of a barbarous age, he received permission from king Agilulph to select a retirement in his dominions. Retiring to a secluded spot among the Apennines, he founded the mon;istery of Bobio, in which he passed the remaining interval of his old age, and died on the 21st November, 615, in the 56th year of his age. BRIDGET. A. D. 510. This eminent person is said to have been born in 439- Her father's name was Dubtacus. The antiquarian writers differ as to his rank. Bale calls him a nobleman, the Book of Howth a captain of Leinster : both may possibly be correct, and the point is of no importance. Her mother appears to have been a person of less respectability: she held some servile office in the house of Dubtach, and having an attractive person, as the story runs, the wife of Dub soon found reasonable occasion for jealousy, and caused her to be sent away. Dubtach, anxious to save the unfortunate victim of his crime, delivered her in charge to a bard. The bard fulfilled his trust with due fidelity, and, when the infant Bridget was born, continued his zealous service by watching over her growth and instructing her early years with parental care. She was thus instructed, as she grew, in all the knowledge of the age; her talent excelled her acquisitions, and she soon obtained a far extending reputation. This was yet increased by the sanctity of her life, and the singular weight and wisdom of her opinions. Her sayings, in an age when the learned were but few, obtained extensive circulation, and from being repeated and admired, soon became in high request. Her advice on weighty occasions began to be sought by the ecclesiastics of her day, and on one occasion Is said to have been alleged as authoritative In a synod held in Dublin. The various acts of her life, as collected by numerous biographers, are not, in general, such as we can consistently with our plan offer here, though we do not doubt the foundation of most of them in fact, yet they are too inseparably interwoven with monstrous inventions, to be reduced to reality. She became a nun, and built herself a celle under a goodly oak. This was after increased into a monastery for virgins, and from the original cell, called Cyldara, " the cell of the oak." As her memory obtains its chief interest from this institution, the reader will be gratified by the following extract from Harris's Ware: — ■ " The church of Kildare is for the most part in ruins, yet the walls are still standing, together with the south side of the steeple, and the walls of the nave, which is adorned to the south with six gothic arches, and as many buttresses. The north side of the steeple is level with the ground, and is said to have been beaten dowTi by a battery planted against it during the rebellion in 1641. The choir, where divine service is used, had nothing worth notice in it, except a large gothic window, much decayed, which the chapter have lately taken down, and in the room have erected a modern Venetian window. The south wing, which was formerly a cliapel, is in ruins, and in it lie two large stones, in alto-relievo, curiously carved. One represents a bishop in his robes, a pastoral staff in his right hand, and a mitre on his head, supported by two monkeys, with several other decorations, but being without inscription, it leaves only room for conjecture, that it was erected for Edmund Lane, bishop of Kildare, who was buried here in 1522. The other is the monument of Sir Maurice Fitzgerald, of Lackah, curiously cut in armour, with an inscription round the stone, and upon the right side of it are five escutcheons, differently emblaz- oned. Ralph of Bristol, bishop of Kildare, was at no small charge in repairing and adorning the cathedral, and was the first Englishman who sat in this see. He died in 1 232. It again fell into decay in the reign of king Henry the VH., and was repaired by the above mentioned Edmund Lane. At thirty yards' distance from the west end of the church, stands an handsome round tower, adorned with a battlement; it is full forty -foiir yards high, and at the same distance from the tower, an ancient pedestal of rough unhewn stone remains, on which formerly stood a cross, the top of which now lieth in the church-yard, but the shaft is converted into a step leading to the communion table. Not far from the round tower is to be seen an old building called the Fire-House, where the inextinguishable fire was formerly kept by the nuns of St Bridget, of which an account may be seen in the Antiquities of Ireland. Among the suffragan bishops of Ireland, as the bishop of Meath in councils and elsewhere had the precedence, so the bishop of Kildare claimed the second place, the rest taking their seats according to the dates of their ordinations. This practice obtained in several parliaments, viz., in those of the 27th of queen Elizabeth, and 1 1 th of James the First. It was controverted before the privy coxmcil, March 15th, 1639- But the lords, justices, and council did not think proper to adjudge the right, in regard the pai'liament was to assemble the day following, and that they had not time to enter into the merits on either side. Yet to avoid the scandal and disturb- 134 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS. ance which mig-ht arise from a contention in the house, they made an interim order, 'that the bishop of Kildare, without prejudice to the rights of the other bishops, should be continued in the possession of precedence, next after the bishop of Meath, and before all other bishops, although consecrated before him; and that he should take place accordingly, until the same be evicted from him, upon the discussion of the right.' The bishops of Kildare, since the Reformation, have been for the most part of the privy council, and for some successions past have held the deanery of Christ-church, with this see in com- mendam. In a return made to a regal commission, a. d. 1622, by bishop Pilsworth, it is said, that by the ancient rolls of the bishojjrick, it appeared, that there were seventy-three parishes in the diocese of Kildare, The constitution of the chapter is singular. It consists of four dignitaries, and fom* canons, viz., dean, chantor, chancellor, and treasurer. The four canons have no titles from any place, but are named, 1st, 2d, 3d, and 4th canon. There are also in this diocese an archdeacon, and eight prebendaries, who are called prebendaries ad extra. The archdeacon is no member of the chapter, but hath a stall in the choir, and a voice in the election of a dean only, and so have the eight prebendaries ad extra. Each of the dignitaries or canons are capable of holding any of the prebends ad extra, but as such have only one voice in the election of a dean. The prebendaries ad extra take their designations from these places, viz., 1. Geajhil; 2. Rathan- gan; 3. Harristown; 4. Nurney; 5. Ballysonan; 6. Donadea; 7. Lid- liamore; 8. Castropeter." * " In this place," says Stanihm'st, " Ibique maxima civitas, postea in honore beatissirnce Brigidce erexit quce est hodie metropolis Lageni- ensium." The succession of bishops in the see of Kildare is thus given by the last writer, " Conlianus, Long, Ivar, Colnic, Douatus, David," &c. Bridget was extensively known and revered in her lifetime, through the different nations which then composed the population of the British isles. A Harmony of the Gospels, written by St Jerome, was copied at her desire in letters of gold. This Boetius mentions as having seen it ; and Stanihurst says, it was preserved, " as a monument," at Kildare. Bridget died about 5 10. She is said to have been buried in lona, but afterwards, with Columbkille, taken up and transferred to the tomb of Patrick. Of this the following legend is preserved : — " Hi tres in Duno tumulo tunuilantur in uno Brigida, Patricius, atque Columba pins." Among the early notices of her life, Colgan has collected and pub- lished, together, the following: — A hymn by St Brogan, on her virtues and miracles, " Tempore vero Lugaidu Leogalro, Rege nati, &c., compositus." Much, however, of this poem seems to be the production of a later state of theology. The second is a life by Cog-itosus, and supposed to have been written before the year 594. One sentence of this seems to imply an eai'iy date, in which this island is named, " Scotorum terra." A third * Harris's Ware. SCOTUS— ERIGENA. 135 by St. Ultan, was obtained from an old MS. in the monastery of St. Magnus, at Ratisbon. It is fuller than either of the former. A fourth, written in the 10th century, by Aniniosus or Animchod, a bishop of Kildare, is published from a defective MS., but, as might be expected from the more recent date, is more full on the marvellous particulars of Bridget's life than any of his predecessors. Two more, one in prose, by " Laurentio Dunelmensi ; " and another in verse by St. Ccelun, of the monastery of Iniskeltein, complete the collection. Moore has in some degree given popularity to Bridget's memory by his allusion to an ancient legend connected with her name, in a ballad known to most persons of refined taste, set to the pathetic old national air ' Sliamama Hulla/ " Like the bright lamp that lay in Kildare's holy shrine, And burned tlirough long ages of darkness and storm, Is the lieart that sorrows have frowned on in vain, Whose sjiirit survives them, unfading and warm." Erin, oh Erin ! thus bright tlirough the tears Of a long night of bondage, thy spirit appears. The nations have fallen, but thou still art young. Thy sun is but rising when otliers are set, And though slavery's cloud on thy morning hath hung, The full noon of freedom shall beam round thee yet. Erin, oh Erin ! tliough long in the shade. Thy star will shine out when the proudest shall fade.* SCOTUS — ERIGENA. In the 9th century, there existed a deep-seated disorder through- out the constitution of the social state. Learning, religion, and morals, were depraved to a state nearly touching upon the dark limit of ignorance, superstition, and barbarism. The just, simple, and practical truths of the gospel were, with the book which is their authorized testimony, rendered obsolete amidst the obscure refinements by which its doctrines had been corrupted. Science was suppressed by the blindfold timidity of ecclesiastical ignorance ; and reason, fatal to a system based on fraud and sophistry, was subtilized away into a safe game of words. Tiie sound-minded reason, senti- ment, and feeling, of the earlier writers of Rome and Greece were lost, with their pure, graceful, and correct style of language. The secular portion of society, absorbed in the business and waste of war, was buried in the most gross and abject ignorance, which was eidight- ened by no glimmering beam of knowledge, and knew no higher or purer aim than fame in arms, and state and luxury in peace. Ignor- ance had ceased to be a reproach among ecclesiastics ; for a little * "Apud Kildarium oecurrit ignis Sanctse Bridgidse, quem inextinguibilera vocant ; non quod extingui non possit, sed quod tam solicite meniales et san«tse mulieres, ignem suppetente materia, fovent et nutriunt, ut a tenipore virginis per tot annorum curricula semper mansit inextmctus. " — Girald Camhrensis, De Mirald Hibernice, Dist. 2, c. 24. This fire was extinguished a. d. 1220, bv Henry de Loudres, Archbi.shop of Dublin. 136 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS. knowledge was enough for the commerce between superstition and ignorance, and more than a little dangerous to its professor, and more dangerous still to the system to which he belonged. But there is no state short of the lowest barbarism, in which the powers and faculties of the intellect will not rise to the utmost limit of their confinement: debarred from truth, error itself will offer no small or narrow scope to the ingenuity that can defend it: reason, habitually employed either in maintaining falsehood or in devising riddles for itself, must needs change its character with its essential end, and find in mere subtilty, a sufiicient scope for its irrepressible powers. This however is but half the process which gave its form to the scholastic theology: the corruption of the moral sense, and the sophistication of the judgment, are among the consequences of habitual abuse ; and a driftlessness of aim and result adapted to bring learning into merited contempt with the practical common sense of the illiterate, completed a state of inteUectual darkness, not easily conceived without much consideration of these causes, joined with others, to be found in the political state of the time. While learning was supprest and corrupted by a peculiar system, among the ecclesiastical body, none but ecclesi- astics had the power to cultivate it. The disruption of an ancient empire yet continued to roll the waves of revolution over the world. And a state of confusion and disorder, such as admits of no compari- son with any thing that has since occurred to disturb the repose of states, made property and personal safety too insecure for the cultiva- tion of learning, unless within the sanctuary of the cloister and the cell. Such is a summary sketch of the intellectual state of the con- tinent, when Charles the Bald ascended the throne of France, and by his love of knowledge, and encouragement of its professors, made his court and table a centre of attraction for the better intellects of his age. Among the most eminent for extensive knowledge and pleasing conversation, whom the sagacity and taste of Charles distinguished by peculiar favour, the Irish scholar, John Erigena, was the first; the same keen and subtle invention and adroitness, which placed him at the head of the disputants of his controversial period, gave ready tact, quick discernment, and facile point in conversation, and he so won on the monarch, that he became his constant companion, was a frequent guest at the royal table and admitted to the privileg-es of friendship, and placed at the head of the university of Paris. Amongst the eminent scholars who cultivated the Greek and Roman literature, Scotus may be classed high. By his great repu- tation as a scholar, and as a master of dialectics, he was naturally led into all or most of the prevalent speculations and controversies of the day in which he lived. It was a time, when all of religion that was not superstition, was the dry and barren chaff of dia- lectics; and when philosophy had no existence but in its theological abuse. Scotus was, by his royal patron, induced to take part in the controversy concerning the Eucharist. This controversy may be briefly described, as the same which now exists between the churches of England and Rome, of which latter church, the doctrine was for the first time distinctly asserted in an essay by Radbert, abbot of Corbey, which at once set the theological seminaries in a blaze of SCOTUS. 137 controversial conflict. Charles ordered Ratramur and Scotus to com- pose a clear view of the doctrine. The work of Scotus, now lost, took the same view as the reformed English church ; Ratramur pretty much the same. Another controversy arose, in the meantime, on the subject of pre- destination and divine grace, in which the depths of God's counsels and the mystery of his natui-e were audaciously sounded by the shallow line of human knowledge and reason. The well known tenets which are designated from the name of Calvin, were promulg-ated by Godescalchus, and drew opposition from many, among whom Scotus was the most distinguished. But the great distinction to which he owes his place in literature, is that of his philosophy. A distinguished expositor of the jjhilosophy called Aristotelian, in his age, he had the boldness to give free scope to original speculation, and to erect a system of his own. This temper received its direction from circumstances. From the earliest records of philosophy in the East, the idea of a mystical union of the spirit of man with the universal spirit by contemplation and ideal absorption, appears to have been in some form a tenet of doctrine, or a practical habit of devotion. It was indeed a natural effect easily traceable to temperament, and likely to be one of the diseases and gratifications of the solitary or ascetic state. Early in the first ag-e of the church, this solitary species of fanaticism was communicated to a Christian sect, who received it from its native climate among the ascetic deserts of Egypt and Thebais. But a moral intoxication which can be reconciled with the conscience of the cloistered cell, must be a happy relief against the languor of its sad and colourless monotony, and the dreams of mysticism were never quite supprest in these dark ages of the church's slumber. The effect of a philosophical system adapted to the scholastic method, and favouring this peculiar tendency could not fail to produce a vast influence on philosophy and theology, which at the period cannot well be said to have a separate existence. In this state of things, the Greek emperor sent over, as a present to Lewis the Meek, some works of mystical theology, which had long- been highly popular in the Eastern church. Of their tendency the I'eader may judge from their titles. On the Celestial JSIonarcliy ; On the Ecclesiastical Hierarchy ; On Divine Names; On Mystical Theology. These treatises received additional value from the reputa- tion of their pretended author, Dionysius the Areopagite, who, under the familiar name St Denis, was believed to be the first Christian teacher as he was the patron saint of France. Charles was ignorant of the Greek language, and therefore sought a translation. It is said that an ill-executed and unfaithful translation of some of these writings had already circulated among the schools, and attracted the attention of studious persons. However this may have been, Scotus was applied to by the king and undertook the task. The translation of Scotus pro- ceeded, and in its progress, the alteration in his philosophy became not only apparent but influential on his hearers. In executing his task he became enamoured with a system, in the transcendental altitudes and depths of which the reach of his subtilty, and the boldness of his fancy could range unquestioned cvbove the dull track of common notions. Seizing on tliis vast scope he began by reconciling it with the scholas- tic philosophy, of which he was the unrivalled master, and explaining the one so as to combine with the other, he quickly infused a new- spirit into the philosophy of the age. Between the dry subtilty of terms and logical forms, which were thoroughly separated from ideas or things, and conceptions equally remote, though in an opposite direc- tion from the experience of realities, there was a nearer affinity than will at first be allowed: though opposed both in spirit and form, and exercising faculties altogether distinct, yet they had in common the arbitrary nature, which admits of indefinite accommodation. The strict law of modern science, the principle of which is definition, and its foundation the reality of things, was unthought of, and its absence left an obvious arena clear for the union between the science of arbitrary terms, and the fantasies of imagination. The translation of Scotus was eagerly received, and laid the foundation of the theological con- troversies of the following three centuries. On the fortune of Scotus the result was less favourable. The translation was in many respects at variance with the dogmas of the Western theology, and the book was published without the licence of the Roman see. Nicholas the First applied, by a menacing letter, to Charles, who dared not openly defy the pontifical requisition, to send the book with its author to Rome. Scotus decided the perplexity by withdrawing himself from Paris. Such is a brief view of the character of the Alexandrian philosophy, and of its introduction into the Western church. The corruptions which, under various forms, it from the beginning diffused into the spirit and substance of Christianity, were but too consistently followed up by the evils it effected during the long continuance of the dark period under our notice : evils far indeed from having ceased in our own times though wearing a different form. But on this we must observe the rule of abstinence from modern disputes, which, with some inevitable exceptions, we have adopted. Of the place of Erigena's retreat, there is some inconsistency among the scanty notices which are extant. The error caused by the term " Scotus," expressive of his native country — whinh in the coui'se of after ages changed its local application — appears to have been in part the cause of this difficulty. About the period of his death, we cannot but feel much doubt as to the representation of Ware, which seems to make it immediate on his retreat; a later work distinguished among the writings of the age, having evi- dently been the result of his studies of the mystical theology, we mean his book on the division of nature — " five books of John Scotus Erigena, long wanted, on the division of nature."* This work, in which infer- ences are drawn by a subtle play on the changes of words in proposi- tions without real meaning, has, in the specimens which we have been able to find, a curious similitude to the djji'ioii school of the last cen- tury; in which premises which, with equal facility, lead to opposite conclusions, formed the subtle links of reasonings on the most impor- tant subjects. His argument to prove the eternity of the world, will illustrate this to the reader who is versed in the dialectics of Edwards, or still more of Clarke, whose subject and material is the same, and • Joatiiii Scoti Eiig^eiise tie Divisione Naturae, libri quinque, diu desiderati. TURGESIUS. 139 liis inferences, in the instance we shall offer, opposite. " Nothing," says Scotus, " can be an accident with respect to God; consequently, it was not an accident with respect to him to frame the world : therefore God did not exist before he created the world; for if he had, it would have happened to him to create ; that is, creation would have been an accident of the divine nature. God therefore precedes the world not in the order of time, but of causality. The cause always was, and is, and will be; and therefore the eti'ect has always subsisted, doth subsist, and will subsist; that is, the universe is eternal with* its cause." From this, the inference was not remote, that God is the universe, and the universe God. If the reader will take the trouble to observe, that the i-eal ground of the above argumentative quibble might be resolved into a disjunctive proposition, stating — Every thing must exist by accident or necessity ; — he will have the same argument reduced into the lan- guage of Clarke's demonstration, of which the foundation is the same impossible conception of necessary existence. MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION. A. D. 815—1177. TURGESIUS. A. D. 815 — DIED A. D. 844. Op Turgesius, before his landing on the Irish coast, nothing can be told on any probable authority; and even as to the date of this, there are some differences, "f According to the most sanctioned authorities, we may place the event some time in the year 815, when he came from Norway with a large fleet and a formidable army. This crafty chief had further views than his adventurous fellow-countrymen had hitherto entertained, and he did not enter on his plans without havino-, like a prudent and wary leader, taken all due precautions to ensure success. It was now become an enterprise of much increased risk, to attack a nation wiiich, from frequent experience of the calamitous nature of * Mistranslated "in," which conveys an ambiguous sense. t The frivolous questions as to his being the same with Gunnundus, or different, we omit, as having no interest, unless for those wlio are likelv to be conversant with our authorities. It is to be regretted that the old writers, who are prolix on such questions, are at the same time so defective in more essen- tial respects. such attacks, had at length been taught the necessity of a more concen- trated resistance. A successful effort of this nature was undoubtedly, at the period, beyond their state of military knowledge, and still more, beyond their capability of concerted movements. Division was the main source of their weakness, and with this was combined that beset- ting infirmity of the Celtic nature, the fatal proneness to betray. Tiu'gesius, aware of the weak points of the nation, readily contrived to secure the co-operation of some of the most powerful of the native chiefs ; and it was probably by their aid and guidance that, without being compelled to betray his purpose by any decisive encounter, he contrived to secure possession of many strong positions, in which he was unliappily suffered to establish settlements, with such fortifications as the science of the time afforded. Some mention occurs of a battle which he gained against Edmundlius, or Felim M'Edmond, and others of a defeat sustained from Feidlim, king of Cashel. The fact is, how- ever, unimportant, as it is uncertain. It is probable that he gained advantages and suffered reverses in action; but it is known that he obtained eventual success. Having divided his fleet and army, for the purpose of striking sudden terror by constant sm-prises and simultan- eous attacks in different quarters, it is probable that the collisions were slight and partial, which the native annalist might have magni- fied into battles won or lost. But it is probable that his progress had in it the uniformity of progress which must have attended the systematic direction of a powerful force, against an unregulated and tumultuary resistance. His followers were indulged in all the license which, in these rude times, and by that piratical nation, were held as the soldier's right ; and the evils they inflicted can only be conceived by those who have atten- tively read the history of the buccaneers in America; or realized, by meditation, that horrible interval of human woe, when the Roman world was swept by the locust march of the Goths. The Danes, who had already obtained settlements by the incidents of a long-continued communication, now flocked in, and powerfully reinforced the army of Turgesius, and he was quickly enabled to seize on Armag'h, where he established his seat of power, and occupied the lands of the clergy, whom he ejected from the province. His views now expanded with his power, and he saw that the mon- archy lay within an easy grasp. The northern adventurers who, lured by his success, thought to follow his example, he was enabled to repel. The native chiefs, although unable to look beyond the narrow scope of their private feuds and animosities, had no actual perception of the real dangers which menaced them, till it was too late. The struggle was, however, protracted through a long and fearful interval of horror and desolation. Although incapable of steadfast purpose and concerted action, the chiefs of the country were as little capable of unreserved submission: ready to assume the tone of htmible sub- mission when resistance became impracticable, they cherished indi- vidually the wUl to resist the claim of tyranny when it approached them in their respective seats of authority. In addition to the calls of self-interest, and the impulses of barbaric pride, they were subject also to the more regulated influence of their clergy. In the church TURGESIUS. 141 lay the chief cause of this protracted struggle. The Irish people would probably have early submitted to a tyranny which they could not shake oflF, but it was a part of the usurper's plan to root Christi- anity from the land. The jiersecution of the clergy thus produced a protracted but desidtory resistance, which ended in that species of compromise which is the result of time and experience, rather than of formal compact; and at length, after a fierce persecution of thirty years, Turgesius was proclaimed monarch of Ireland. In the course of this long struggle for power, the prominent inci- dents were the sufferings of ecclesiastical persons and places. The monastery of Banchor, before attacked and plundered by these barba- rians, was again the scene of their mingled rapacity and cruelty. The Annals of Munster and of the Four blasters, state, that on this latter occasion, the abbot and 900 monks were all murdered in one day. Mr Moore's history supplies us with an expressive enumeration of these and similar horrors — " Wherever pilgrims in great numbers resorted, thither the love at once of slaughter and plunder led these barbarians to pur- sue tliem. The monastery of the English at Mayo; the holy isle of Iniscathy in the mouth of the Shannon ; the cells of St Kevin in the valley of Glendalogh ; the church of Slane, the memorable spot where St Patrick first lighted the Paschal fire ; the monastery of the Helig isles, on the coast of Kerry, a site of the ancient well-worship; all these, and a number of other such seats of holiness, are mentioned as constantly being made the scenes of the most ruthless devastation." These atrocities were, as the reader may have already seen, swelled in their amount and aggravated by the continued force of ill example on the native chiefs, who, while they followed the track of the destroyer, with a purpose as destructive and less excusable than his own, are probably to be looked on as indications of the diminished hostility which his character and crimes must have, for a long time, opposed to his recognition as king. But in the absence of distinct details, we need not further labour to give distinctness to our portrait, and to fix the shadowy horror of the tyrant's features. His government, as king, was but another frightful phase of his character as an enemy. Oppressions and extor- tions assumed a roug-her and sterner form from the license of autho- rity; and the insolent exactions of Norwegian officials were added to the relentless demands of authorized extortion. The religious houses found no longer even that shadow of a hope which resistance imparts; schools and monasteries went, by one compendious mandate, unresist- ingly to the ground ; and their inhabitants were turned out to seek a refuge in foreign countries, or in a poverty which had nothing to attract the spoiler. The effect of this was such as might have been anticipated from human nature. They who would have submitted to the foreign usurper, found no rest or safety in their abasement ; and a strong sense of ani- mosity against the tyrant gradually began to diffuse itself from mind to mind. The attempt at open resistance was not to be thought of, but an occasion arose by which O'Meloghlin, prince of Meath, con- trived to seize his person. 142 MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION. Giraldus, and after him Ilanmer and other historians, relate a story of the manner of the death of this tyrant, which is not noticed by any of the ancient annalists, and yet, from its circumstantial detail, is hardly to be attributed to mere invention. It has at least the merit of being in strict keeping with the age and the character of the agents ; and may have been omitted by the annalists, from a sense that, how- ever just may have been the tyrant's fate, the manner of it does not, in the highest degree, reflect honour on the illustrious O'Meloghlin ; and, it may be added, that there is an evidently studied reserve in the early writers on all transactions in which the Danes were in any wav parties. Gordon, Mr Moore, Leland, and Dr O'Conor, concur in treating it as fable ; but, true or false, we may not omit it here. In the thirtieth year of his residence in Ireland, Turgesius con- ceived a dishonourable passion for the daughter of O'Meloghlin, king of Meath, and, being deterred by no consideration either of decency or respect, offered the most insulting and offensive proposals to the royal father of the princess. Such was the abject state of subjection to which the native kings were reduced, that the outraged father could not, without the utmost peril, refuse ; and resistance was hope- less. In this hapless condition, the humiliation of which may well account for the silence of the annals, the heroic O'Meloghlin had re- course to a stratagem, " resembling," as Mr Moore observes, " in some of its particulars, a stratagem recorded by Plutarch in his life of Pelopidas." He replied to the insulting proposal, " Appoint the day, the hour, and the place, and sequester yourself from your court and retinue, and I will send my daughter unto you, with twelve or sixteen gentlewomen, of the choice and beautifuUest maidens of my country, and take your choice of them ; if my daughter please you best, she is at your command." The appointed hour drew on, and the tyrant, fired with guilty expectations, betook himself to the place of assignation. O'Meloghlin caused the princess to be splendidly attired, and sent her with sixteen young men, disguised as maidens, and having each a long knife under his mantle. The bloody tragedy was not long in acting. Turgesius had scarcely time to insult the princess with the first expression of his revolting love, when the fatal circle of avengers was drawn close around him, and, ere his astonishment and terror could find vent, the knives of the sixteen were contending in his breast. In this story there is nothing- improbable ; the scheme is simple, and, in some measure, such as the circumstances may have suggested. There is, also, in addition to the reason already mentioned, this consideration: enough is mentioned by the annalists to warrant the inference of more. The tyrant who had for thirty years held the minds of the Irish nation in the bonds of hate and terror, could not have been surprised by craft, and slain, without some more espe- cial note of the manner of his death, than that he fell into the hands of O'Meloghlin, and was by him drowned in Lochvar. The truth may probably be a combination of the particulars of both accounts. He may have been seized by the youths and drowned by the monarch ; but as there was, at the moment, no war, or no ordinary circumstances which might have led to his capture in the field, some stratagem must have THE MONARCH O'MELOGHLIN. 143 been employed to obtain possession of him, and such must either have been most diligently concealed, or, as in all such incidents, have made the chief part of the story. Whatever be the true account of the death of Turgesius, the results were important. The ascendancy of the Danes was thenceforward lightened ; and from that period, as an ancient annalist observes, " the Irish began to conquer." THE MONARCH O MELOGHLIN. DIED A. D. 863. The best authority places the event of the death of Turgesius in 844,* but it was not for about four yeai's later that O'Meloghlin was raised to the monarchy. A circumstance which seems to add some credit to the romance re- lated above, is the circumstance (if truly affirmed) that he had pre- viously lived on terms of great favour with Turgesius. It is men- tioned, as an incident of his previous life, that once, in conversation, he familiarly asked of the tyrant, " by what means certain ravenous and pestiferous birds, which greatly infested the country, might be destroyed?" Turgesius replied, " If they breed, destroy their eggs, birds, and nests," — a policy which, it is said, O'Meloghlin thencefor- ward designed to observe towards the Norwegians. On the death of Turgesius, it is said, O'Meloghlin immediately sent out his messengers in every direction, to give notice of the event, and to rouse the chiefs to take arms. The Norwegians, sustained chiefly by the energy and political talent of their ruler, had neither union, council, firmness, nor foresight, to meet the exigency of the moment. They stood undecided, and were taken by surprise. The Irish had been some time prepared, and on the intelligence, Meath and Leinster were at once in arms; the chiefs from every quarter repaired to O'Meloghlin, who soon found himself at the head of a numerous army. The results appear to have been decisive ; but the brevity of the an- nalists does not afford us the means of describing the battles by which the strangers were now reduced to the lowest state of depression, and either driven from the land, or subjected to the authority of its native chiefs. There cannot be any reasonable doubt of the decided advan- tages which were thus obtained, but there can be as little that they are vastly over-stated by the annalists, whose accounts are uniformly at variance with the course of events as inferred even from themselves. The account of Giraldus, from whatever sources it is drawn, has in it some touches pecvdiarly characteristic of the actors: " Fama igitur pernicibus alls, totam statim insulam pervolante, et rei eventum, ut assolet, divulgante; Norwagienses ubique truncantur; et in brevi omni omnino, seu vi, seu dolo, vel morti traduntur, vel iterum Norwagium et insulas unde venerant, iiavigio adire compelluntur." A series of mas- sacres and well-concerted surprises, were probably rendered decisive by * The time of these events is involved in douht, &c. Moore, ii. 33. 144 MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION. victories won by the conduct of O'Meloghlin. He soon after obtained the monarchical crown, and sent messengers to the French court to announce his triumph and his accession. He also announced Iiis pur- pose of a visit to Rome as an act of thanksgiving, and desired a free passage through the French territory. The ambassadors were charged with costly gifts to the king of France ; and, as Mr Moore has judiciously observed, the high reputation of Irish learning and piety sustained at this period by the constant resort of Irish missionaries, as well as by the reputation of John Erigena, in the French court, must have conciliated tor Irishmen the g-ood-will of both the king and peojtle. The design of O'Meloghlin to visit Rome was hardly in his power. The Nor- wegians were scattered and disorganized, but not in reality subdued. They wanted but concentration and a head, to regain their wonted place in the field as harassing and formidable foes. Three days' sail intervened between them and the Baltic shores, which still teemed with unexhausted swarms of fierce adventurers. In 849, a fleet of one hundred and sixty sail* landed a strong rein- forcement from the northern coasts ; and the Danes, who had for some time been struggling, under the appearance of commercial views, to regain a difficult footing, were enabled to assume a sterner front. A tedious and destructive, but indecisive warfare set in, and during its course, some important changes took place in the mutual feelings and relative positions of the parties ; the result of which was to enable the Danes, who generally acted on wider views, to attain considerable advantages. The native chiefs, acting ever under the impulse of the most recent impressions, and ever ready to start aside from the more remote objects of common interest at the slightest call of private passion, soon fell away from the public cause, into their wonted tenor of petty dissen- sion. The Danes, always on the alert for every advantage, soon found means to insinuate themselves into the game of strife, and thus obtain, unobserved, the secure footing of alliance with the strongest. The conventions of party, which, even in this advanced age, and in minds elevated by knowledge and talent, hold an ascendancy exclusive of higher and more general principle, may then be supposed to have bound, with an iron force, the uncivilized breasts of the barbarian chiefs of the day. Occupied with the engrossing concerns and small expedien- cies which affected the narrow circle of their immediate relations, the chiefs saw nothing further, but felt that, while they were individually at liberty to wield their small privileges of oppression and nmtual strife, the nation was free : it was all the prosperity they could com- prehend ! This evil practice was sanctioned by O'Meloghlin, who availed him- self of the ready arms of these northern settlers to retain his station against the encroachments of rival chiefs. The character of the foreigners had, in the course of time, assumed a more civilized form. From pirates, they were now fast settling into traders ; by craft, as by the neglect of the natives — quite ignorant of the importance of these positions of advantage for commerce and strength — they had secured * Ware. Aiit. c. 24. THE MONARCH O'MELOGHLIN. 145 possession of the cities and principal harbours ot" the island; and it became no longer a doubtful question, as to the pre-eminence they might thereafter hold in the nation, if their progress was allowed to advance toward a secure possession of their present advantages. But this advantage was rendered precarious by interferences far different from the brawling hostility of the native chiefs. The kindred tribes of the Baltic — which, in their common character of pirates and foes, are, to a great extent, confounded by historians under a common name, were yet distinct in tribe and country ; and though ready to unite their arms for mutual advantage, yet little disposed to concede, without a struggle, the possession of a country which was progressively becom- ing more important as they advanced in commercial prosperity. The Norwegians, or White Strangers, were at strife with the Danes, or Black Strangers, or as they were, in the native Irish, called Fingalls and Dubhgalls. In the year 850, a considerable fleet of the Dark Strangers, a race till about this period not much known in the island, landing on the Irish coast, made an attack on the White Strangers, who were in possession of Dublin. This event is, with the uncertainty of our annalists, placed by each at a different period. The Four Masters are said by Mr Moore to make it 849, Ware 851 ; but the following extract from the Four Masters — carefully translated, and compared with the Annals ofTigher- nach, by an Irish scholar of hig"h reputation, for a most authoritative antiquarian publication of the present day* — seems to involve the matter in some additional difficulty. Under the year 845, it is mentioned: " The Dubhgalls arrived this year in Dublin, slaughtered the Fingalls, demolished their fortress, and carried off prisoners and property. The Dubhgalls attacked the Fingalls at Lindunachaill, and made great havoc of them." The date matters little — of the event there is no doubt. And it is pretty evident that, under the liability to such contingencies, there could be little steady prosperity. The Danes were, besides, be- ginning to be divided among themselves : the habit of entering into the feuds of the native chiefs had, as Mr Moore observes, this weakening effect. In the following year from the event last mentioned, the P'in- galls having recruited their numbers from abroad, made a fierce and successful effort to regain their city. The battle was one of violence unprecedented in Irish history; it continued three days and three nights, and ended in the entire discomfiture of the Dubhs, with dread- ful slaug'hter. We have already offered the reader some important notices of ancient Ireland, in which express mention is made of the city of Dublin: its growing importance at the period in which we are now engaged, make this the fittest occasion to offer some further notices from the same authority. These, for the convenience of our narrative, we extract in the form of a note.f The next occurrence, of which * Dublin Pi'iiny Journal, p. 175. f " Dublin, therefore, has a just claim to an antiquity ot' seventeen centuries, and it is manifest that it must have existed several centuries before Ptolemy's time, else he would not have called it a city, or even have heard of it. The first mention we find made of Dublin, in the remnant of ancient Irish history that lias reached our times, is in the Annals of Tighernach, under the year 166, wliere lie tells us that 1. K Ir. 146 MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION. there is distinct notice worthy of mention, is one alike important lu the history of both the British isles. The protracted tyranny of Turgesius, and the growing power and union of the Danes in both islands, gave a prospect of advantage sufficient to awaken the ambition of the Norwegian princes, Anlaf, Sitric, and Ivar. Collecting a powerful body of troops from the coasts and islands of the Northern sea, they landed on the Irish coast, and took unresisted possession of the ports of Dublin, Limerick, and Waterford, — the latter of which now for the first time became the site of a city, of which Sitric is al- lowed to have been the founder. A tale is told by Giraldus, of the stratagem by which the three brothers obtained possession of the country. Coming in the disguise of mer- chants, he represents them as gaining a friendly footing in diiferent parts of the country. The story has not, however, even the ordinary probability of a fairy tale, or requires at least, in the reader, the most childlike ignorance of the common woi-kings of any state of society. Superior sagacity, knowledge, resources, and the command of an extensive line of well-manned positions, in a word, a force which ren- dered hopeless such efforts as could at the time be brought to bear upon them, gave them that commanding and admitted influence, which nothing less could have given; and O'Meloghlin soon saw him- self occupying a place virtually subordinate in his dominions. A tribute to the Norwegian princes, was the unequivocal test of national the Con of the hundred battles, and Moglia Nuadhat, divided Ireland into two parts, by a line drawn from the eastern to the western Athcliath, i. e. from Athcliath Duiblinne to Athcliath Meadhraidhe, or from Dublin to Clarin's-bridijfe, near Gal- way. It is added in other accounts (not in Titrhernacli), that Rlogha Nuadhat, who was otherwise called Eogan the Splendid, thought himself over-reached in this partition, because the half of the harbour of Dublin, which he observed to be com- modious for traffic, and visited bv ships, did not fall withm his allotment ; and that to gain which he commenced hostilities, and lost his lite in the attempt. '•' I cannot at all believe that the settlement of Dublin as a place of commerce, and as a fortified town, can be attributed to the Scandinavian pirates, in the ninth century. The Annals of the Four Masters record the death of St Beraidh, abbot of Dublin, under the year (550, and that of Siadhal, abbot of Dublin, under the year 785. " The author of the Life of St Kevin, who wrote more than a thousand years ago. thus speaks of our city : — " ' Civitas Athcliath est in aquilonali Lageniensium plaga super fretum mans posita, et Scolice dicitur Dublilinn quod sonat Latine Nigra Therma, et ipsa, civitas potens et Belligera est, in qua semper habitant viri asperimi in proeliis et peritissimi in classibus.' " The city oi Ath-cliath is situate in the northern region of Leinster, upon a strait of the sea ; it is styled in the Scotic language Dubh-linn, which signifies Dark Bath. This city is powerful and warlike, and always inhabited by men most hardy in battles, and most expert in fleets. '• Tiie Irish name of Dublin is Baile Atha C/iath, or The Town at the ford of the Hvrdies ; and the name of that part of the LiflFey on which it is built, Duiblinn, or the Black Water. " The Book of Dinnseavchus informs us that this ford across the river was called Ath-cliath, or the ford of Hurdles, from hurdles of small twigs which the Lagenians, in the reign of their king Mesgeira, placed across the river tor the purpose of con- veving the sheep of AtldrMj Ailgeascah to Dun Edair, a fortress of the hill of Howth, where many of the young warriors of Ulster were then stationed." — Annals of Dublin, translated by Mr John 0' Donovan, Dublin Penny Jonrnal, i. 174, AODH FINLIATH, MONARCH. 147 submission; and Imar, or Ivar, is mentioned by the Four Masters as king of the Danes in England and Ireland. The last effort of O'Meloghlin to shake off the iron weight that pressed his monarchy to the ground, was a battle fought at Drummoy, of which the Masters rather equivocally state, " where many of them fell." O'Meloghlin died some time in 863, and was succeeded in the mon- archy by Aodh Finliath. AODH FINLIATH, MONARCH. A. D. 863—879. Ere this, the reader of these pages will have it forced on his ob- servation, that the monarchs of this confused period are, without any stretch of rhetorical licence, described as shadows of royalty. Under the names of these kingly phantoms, we are compelled to proceed on- ward with a broken and uncertain record of events, in which they ap- pear to have had but little part; and under the name of biography to present a scanty and doubtful history. But in this there is little choice — as the only alternative would consist in the detail of those incidents without character or probability, with which a few writers of heated ima- gination have filled up the broken cloud-work which conceals the unre- corded past. The interest arising from continuity and connexion, in a well-ordered narration, is here of necessity broken at every step, not alone by the chasms of the narration, but by the controverted points which stai't up at every period, and the conjectural notions, the claim of which is chiefly derived from the undue importance which has been attributed to them, by writers unaccustomed to weigh the actual pro- gress and true connexions of historical events — a fault not more to be imputed to the most zealous fanatic of a theory, than to the little phil- osopher who is found demolishing the fantastic edifice with weapons not more substantial. In making this statement, we feel a natural wish to support ourselves by tlie sanction of a name, and none perhaps can be found less exceptionable on every account than Mr Moore, whose learned, intelligent, and industrious history, strongly exemplifies these inevitable disadvantages of the subject, when encountered by the fairest mind. We liave, vvitii this view, lighted on the following passage, which fully states the dithculty with which the biographer has to con- tend : " Among the deficiencies most to be complained of by a reader of our early history, is the want of interest and instruction arising from the contemplation of individual character, — the rare occurrence not merely of marked historical personages, but of any actors in the tu- multuous scene sufilclently elevated above their cotemporaries to at- tract the eye in passing, or form a resting-place for the mind." Under the name of Aodh, the only point of historical importance to be mentioned, is his marriage with Malmaria, daughter of Kenneth MacAlpine, king of the Irish colony of Scotland. The history of this colony may be briefly summed. It is, after some controversy now superfluous to detail, admitted by all recent historical writers, that Scotland has derived its name, 348 MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION. with no inconsiderable portion of its inhabitants, from the neighbour- ing shores of Ireland, of which the inhabitants are commonly mentioned in old historians under the name of Scots, or Scots of Hibernia ; while Scotland was known under the name of Albyn, or Albania, to the 11th century. In the time of this eminent Cliieftain, this colony ceased to be dependent on an Irish chief. Its position, and the extent of the district which it occupied, is described by Dr. O'Conor — it comprised " Ken- tiream, Knapdaliam, Loarnam, Ardgatheliam, and Braid Alban, cum vicinis insulis Hebridum." " On the small stage of this miniature realm," writes Mr. Moore, " we find acted over again, most of the dark and troubled scenes of the Irish pentarchy ; the same lawlessness and turbulence, redeemed sometimes by the same romantic heroism ; a similar reverence for all that was sanctioned by the past, combined with as light and daring a recklessness of the future. That rooted attach- ment to old laws and usages, which marked the natives of the mother country, was here transmitted in full force to their descendants ; the ancient language and all the numerous traditions of which it was tiie vehicle ; the system of clansliip and laws of succession ; even the old party-coloured dress worn by the ancient Scots, all continued to be re- tained in North Britain to a much later period than among the original Irish themselves." The succession of internal feuds and dissensions which occupy the interval, we must refer to the history of Scotland. But, not long be- fore the period in which we are engaged, a series of desperate conflicts, between the Irish Scots and their Lowland neighbours the Picts, ended in the union of the two races in one monarchy, under a king of the Irish race — the celebrated hero Kenneth MacAlpino. CORMAC, KING OF CASH EL. A. D. 908. CoRMAC MacCulinan, king and bishop of Cashel, or as he is more correctly styled by some of our ancient writers, king of Munster and bishop of Cashel, appears to have been born in the year 837. The early portion of his life may be passed — but he seems to have ended a long life spent in the tranquil pursuits of literature, by a brief and troubled reign chiefly passed in the field. Seventy years from his birth passed away like a long and calm day of sunshine, spent in the contemplative repose of the conventual cell ; and tei'mlnated, as such days will some- times terminate, in the din and confusion of gathering storms. Except the honourable evidence of his Important writings, his previous course, for the long period of seventy years. Is trackless on our annals : but these obscure years have left to posterity, In that valuable record the Psalter of Cashel, a striking illustration of the law by which the fame of the scholar may be reflected, from the humblest station or the most unnoticed obscurity, beyond the most swelling characters and noisiest events which arrested the apjjlause or censure of his day. But Cormac, though the events of his life are only known by such a result, was not obscure — he was of royal descent and high ecclesiasti- cal station, and he lived in a period and country when learning, though its state was not much above a formal ignorance, was held in veneration proportioned to the difficulty of its attainment. Cormac had scarcely time to settle in his throne, before he learned that it was not to be the easy chair of an aged priest. Some doubts have been expressed as to which side the aggression came from, in the war which, in five years from his accession, began between him and the monarch Flan. We have no authority, but it is inconsistent with all the probabilities, that the ancient and venerable student could have been the first intentional aggressor. The monarch was the first who struck the blow, having, according to the annalists, in 906, made a hostile inroad upon Munster, and laid waste the whole district from Gaura to Limerick. The insult was not destined to pass un- punished. In the next year, the venerable prince took the field at the head of a sufficient force ; and, with the assistance of the valiant abbot of Iniscathy, encountered the monarch on the heath of Moylena, and obtained a decided victory, which compelled Flan to give hostages of submission. Following up his good fortune, he entered Roscommon, where he exacted and received similar tokens of subjection. It was, however, a uniform result of the multitude of small conflicting interests of these petty princes of an uncivilized period, and of disputes as to rights in themselves ill-defined and liable to the wilful misunder- standing of an encroaching spirit, that pledges of submission were no longer binding than while there were means to enforce them. The monarch did not altogether acquiesce in the king of Mmister's as- sumption of rights, which seemed in a great measure to have their basis in usurpation In the gradual increase of its prosjserity, the throne of Cashel had begun to assume the portentous aspect of a rival power ; and its demands of tribute, by right limited within its pro- vincial boundaries, were, by tacit sufferance, extended through the southern provinces of Ireland. Against a demand thus questionable in its origin, resistance quickly gathered force among the more in- telligent people of Leinster, whose habits were rendered alert and firm by their more constant contact with the Danes. In this they were sanctioned by their king, and encouraged by the monarch. Cormac would, it is ag'reed, have willingly consulted his repose, the peace of his people, and perhaps the obligations of his sacred calling; but these milder dispositions were under the control of a rough, am- bitious, and violent spirit. Flathertach, the warlike abbot of Iniscathy, quickly overruled any pacific scruple he may have entertained, and the Munster forces were led into the province of Leinster. But the combined forces of his two great antag'onists were far be- yond the utmost force which the king of Cashel could lead to the field: and the foreboding of his fate, which on this occasion is attributed to him, may well have been the just impression which this disparity was likely to make on a mind observant by nature, and touched with the natural apprehension of old age. Under this impression he entered with calm resignation on the important preparations for the event. He sent for the rightful head of the Dalcassians, and made a public and solemn declaration of his right to the succession. He also made a will, in which he bequeathed legacies to his friends and the church. The result of the battle of Beallaghmughna, which soon after fol- lowed, but too truly justified the presentiments of Cormac. The struggle was long, but the Munster troops were forced to yield to a superior force : Cormac was slain most probably in the confusion at- tendant on the route, as his character and age forbid the supposition of his having assumed a prominent part in the ranks. There is nothing, however, in the ecclesiastical character of that barbaric period — when martial virtue was all in all, and Christianity was already far gone in the corruptions which continued, for five cen- turies more, to encrust its holy light— to cast reproach on the bishop or abbot, who exchanged his mitre and gown for helmet and mail, and, at the call of sovereign or feudal duty, led his subjects or retainers to the field. Of this the reader's recollections of English contemporary history will supply abundant examples. Cormac was, as Mr Moore has justly remarked, " made evidently the instrument, during his few years of sovereignty, of some of the more violent and aspiring spirits of his order." If we stop to compare (although such a comparison must rest only on strong inferential grounds) the apparent character of this venerable prince with the probable character of his adviser — the intermeddling, arrogant, and underplotting abbot of Iniscathy, who contrived to persuade, against his better purpose, the aged priest and student, to an unequal contest for an unrighteous demand — the mind is struck by an impressive contrast, which often recurs among the events of every generation. The mild and gentle simplicity of a great and wise mind, rendered perhaps additionally yielding from the natural effect of age — too simply good to penetrate the folds in which duplicity hides its inmost purpose, or to see through the lurking snare to which it is led by a series of crafty and specious impositions ; he becomes an easy |)rey to the cautious and jiliant, but daring and unscrupulous schemer, who seizes on his ready ear with specious pre- tences, winning insinuations, confident and outfacing lies, or finely de- vised positions of necessity, as occasion oflFers. We need not labour to give force to a picture, to which the recollection of most of our readers, who are not young in the world, will suggest resemblances ; our own many. Such is the probable sketch of the king and his mitred counsellor of state : but that of the former will best be completed by observing the tranquil firmness and justice of his preparations for the event of a war in which he was reluctant to engage; his equitable respect for the alternate right of the Dalcassian branch to give a successor to the throne; and the calm resignation and piety which place him rather in the light of a noble spirit in the midst of adversity and danger, than the leader of an unjust war. The items of his will are, with sufficient probability, given by Keat- ing. They consist chiefly of bequests to the churches of ounces of gold and silver, with various articles of church service, as chalices, vestments, and a mass-book. Some, however, of the accompanying bequests have been noticed, as afPecting the credit of the whole: a " clock,'' and a " coat of mail of bright and polished steel." We have not, at this moment, the means of ascertaining the allowances which may be made for the mistranslation which may possibly have betrayed the ANLAF, KING OF DUBLIN". 151 historian into an anachronism seemingly so gross. We have familiar proof that the clock was yet unknown in any form, from the common story of Alfred's application of candles to the purpose of the measure- ment of time; nor was the coat of mail known until long after the Norman conquest, from which its gradual invention, by repeated im- provements, is traced with historical precision, from the iron-ringed tunic of the Norman knight of that period, to the perfect panoply of steel in the 14th century. But the use of armour in early periods, and the Eastern invention of curious pieces of mechanism to supply the want of the clock, are of uncertain antiquity. Cormac was an anti- quary, and doubtless a collector of such rare and foreign curiosities as the wealth of a royal collector of his period might command. He was a scholar; and an occasional communication with the best intelli- gence then in Europe, may have placed in his possession many imper- fect things, the rudiments of future improvement. No allowance, however, on the score of such considerations, can be made for the language of the will, as given by Keating; and, on the whole, we Incline to reject the document. ANLAF, KING OF DUBLIN. A. D. 950. The great prominence of the Danes in the entire civil history of this perfod, together with the fact that they must also be now regarded as having become virtually no inconsiderable division of the inhabi- tants of the ir.land, whether respect is had to their power, possessions, numbers, or length of settlement — these considerations demand the admission of this eminent king and captain into our series of bio- graphies. There is, indeed, a difficulty which has very much limited our means of being as authentic and distinct as might be desired, on the history of the Danish princes. While the main record of their achievements is sufficiently marked with a deep and blood-stained outline of murderous fields and forays, the annalists, both in England and Ireland, are always briefly confined to the events of war ; and, being often contradictory on these, are also pretty uniformly so on all other subjects of historical inquiry. The frequent repetition of the same principal names among the Danish princes has, in the ab- sence of connected detail, constantly misled the compilers of the scat- tered and broken links of their history ; and, though the task of his- torical research may thus derive additional interest in comparing authorities and balancing adverse probabilities, it remains for us, whose office excludes all that is much beneath the surface of popular interest, to proceed straight forward according to the most allowed and known views of history. We have already mentioned the arrival in this country of the three brothers, Anlaf, Sitric, and Ivar. The coincidence of names and dates, in the Saxon and Irish records, with sufficient accuracy settle the important fact, that England and Ireland were equally the subject of their hostile operations ; and the same comparison enables the his- torian to infer, that these operations were generally conducted with 152 MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION. similar success and like consequences in each. Altliougii interrupted a,nd frequently divided in its progress, by the diverse accidents of a war continued in difterent places and with different people, there was yet a combining principle, under the influence of which the empire of the Northmen always tended to a union under a single head. The far more authentic view which we are enabled to take of their English history, casts also a strong reflection on the obscure conciseness of our annals, and explains the mystery of their having out-lived so many deaths and expulsions as these records exhibit. The chief, Ivar, whom our annalists have described as king of English and Irish Danes, is mentioned by the Nortliern Annals as having lauded on the English coast and obtained possession of the northern side of the Humber, a. d. 867. The account which they give of the circumstances which led to his coming over from Den- mark, cannot, without some uncertain adaptations, be reconciled with his previous history. But it is enough here to state, that he is re- presented by the English historians as king of Northumbria, and by the Irish as king of the Danes of England and Ireland. Mr Moore is perhaps right in conjecturing, if we have correctly understood his intent (for he does not say so much), that two distinct persons are confused under the common name of Ivar, and that the northern chroniclers have anticipated the events of a later period. We incline to think that the perplexity arises from the confusion of generations, so likely to occur in an incorrect chronology. The sagas were reluc- tant to deduce the history of an important enterprise unless directly from the Scandinavian shore, and desirous to magnify the hero of the story by combining the honours of several descents in one. Without perplexing ourselves, therefore, with investigations which belong to a more learned class of historians, it may be stated, on the distinct and circumstantial authority of all the most received Saxon chroniclers, that a Danish chief, named Ivar, invaded Northumbria, East Anglia, and Wessex; and that, in the course of his campaign, he won some bloody battles and sustained some slight reverses, but remained master of a considerable territory, which was retained by the Danes till the final success of Alfred reduced their force and de- fined their condition as subjects. Still formidable in numbers and spirit, the Danes appear to have rested subdued under the firm and comprehensive ascendancy of Al- fred's genius, until we arrive at the period in which our notice is actually engaged. Sitric, who was probably the son of Ivar, died sometime about 925 or 926, and left two sons, Godfrid and Anlaf. Athelstane, who now had succeeded to the kingdom of England, immediately formed a determination hostile to the succession of these to the Northumbrian territories of their father. A prompt and rapid inroad left the bro- thers no alternative but a hasty flight, and Athelstane seized on Nor- thumberland. Godfrid, by the result of the course he took, was soon compelled to submit to Athelstane, who received and treated him kindly. Anlaf, of far superior abilities, adopted a more cautious course. He retired to his friends and relations in Ireland, and watched the course of events. A favourable juncture seemed to arise. ANLAF, KING OF DUBLIN. 153 In the rapid and complex operations of a system of small and unsettled polities, it was obvious to a sagacious understanding, that he could not have long to remain in suspense. He soon learned that some cause of quarrel existed between Athelstane and the Scottish king. To this latter prince he instantly proceeded, and awakened his fears for the consequences by the reasonable suggestion, that Athelstane was as likely to attempt the surprise of Scothmd as of Northumberland. He urged the expediency of anticipating this dangerous movement, and oft'ered the assistance of a powerful force from Ireland. The Scottish king, already alai'med by the successes of Athelstane, and still writh- ing under the insult of a haughty reception at his court, was easily excited to action. Each withdrew to prepare his forces. They were joined by the Welsh. The accounts of this war are not quite con- sistent, but the difierences do not affect the leading facts. Athel- stane began by obtaining a decided victory over the Welsh; and, meeting soon after the forces of the Scot and Dane on their way, he gave them a most bloody defeat, in which the son of Constantine, the Scottish king, with six Danish kings and twelve earls, together with a prodigious multitude of their men, were left dead on the field. The scene of this battle is, by the most probable conjecture, laid at a place now called Bromford, in Northumberland. It is represented to have lasted from dawn till sunset; and, during this long interval, to have been maintained with alternate success. The annalists agree in repre- senting it as without parallel in the history of England. Anlaf, who had been the head of the league, was now reduced to the necessity of seeking a refuge in Ireland, for himself and the wretched remains of his army. Athelstane who, by the result of this bloody fight, was raised above the level of the ambition or resentment of his adventurous neighbours, was allowed to continue in peace for the remainder of his short reign. A story is told of Anlaf, on the authority of William of Malmesbury, which it is our duty to repeat, as it may probably be true. A few days before this battle, so disastrous to his fortunes, took place, he was anxious to ascertain with precision the strength, and to penetrate the designs of the enemy. For this purpose it occurred to him to adopt the celebrated expedient attri- buted, truly or falsely, to Alfred by the same questionable writers. Having assumed the disguise of a harper, he entered the enemy's lines, where he might have successfully effected his purpose, had he not been recognised by a soldier. The soldier, who had served under Anlaf, allowed him to retire without molestation; but, having given him time to reach his own lines, he immediately apprised king Athelstane, excusing his own conduct on the ground of the militai y oath he had given to Anlaf, — at the same time he advised the king- to change his quarters, as he judged that Anlaf had some design of attacking him there at night. The soldier's hint was acted on; and, as the story is told, Athelstane had reason to be thankful for it; for, during the night, Anlaf, at the head of a select party, made an attack on the camp; and, having penetrated to the site from which the king hiid removed, slew a bishop with all his troop, who had, in the mean- time, taken up his quarters there. The reader should be made aware, 154 MONAKCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION. tliat the objection to this story, and to the previous edition of it which occurs in the reign of king Alfred, is simply this — that neither of them occur in the earlier chronicles of England, but are found for the first time in the pages of writers, in whose time it had become customary to give popularity to history, by interweaving it with the devices of a fertile imagination. It was seven years from the battle of Brunanburgh when Anlaf, who had in the meantime remained in Ireland, was induced, by communi- cations with the Northumbrian Danes, once more to try his fortune in England. Athelstane was dead — his successor, Edmund, an inex- perienced youth. Anlaf found means to raise a sufficient force, and also succeeded in obtaining a strong addition to his troops from Olaus king of Norway. He soon entered Northumberland ; the gates of York were thrown open to receive him, and he recovered many places with- out serious opposition. But the antagonist with whom he had to con- tend, though inexperienced, was brave, and eager to put the contest to the issue of arms. They met near the old Chester, and came to an engagement which continued the whole day without a decisive result. The next day the archbishops of Canterbury and York, the first on the Saxon and the second on the Danish side, contrived to set on foot a negotiation, in which a peace was concluded. By the terms of agreement now entered upon, king Edmund ceded to Anlaf all the territory north of the Roman highway, which divided England into two nearly equal parts. Anlaf had, however, contracted a heavy debt for the expenses of his Norwegian army; and to pay it was compelled to adopt the unpojjular resource of an oppressive taxation. A large province revolted, and set up a claim for Reginald, the son of Godfrid, the brotlier of Anlaf — so that thus in 944, two years from the date of his first success, Anlaf found himself once more involved in a dangerous war ; for king Edmund, placing himself at the head of what we might term an army of observation, hovered near the hostile powers to watch and take advantage of their strife. His presence had, perhaps, some effect in moderating their disposition to engage ; and he seems to have taken the most prudent counsel, in taking upon him the part of a mediator, and effecting a peace between the parties on terms most favourable to his own interests — namely, the division of the rival power, by each retaining the portion of territory which he respectively held. Edmund, however, had not reached his home, when he was overtaken by an account of the two kings having united their arms to free themselves from subjection to his authority. At once turning back, he came upon them before their forces were drawn together. Resistance was out of the question, and the two kings fled: the Danes threw down their ai'ms, and swore allegiance to Edmund. It is not within our province to relate the tragical death of Edmund, A. D. 948. But soon after, in the reign of his successor Edred, Anlaf was recalled by the Danes from Ireland, and placed in a condition so secure as to have little fear of reverse, had not his own oppressive temper, or the exigency of his necessities, rendered his government intolerable to the Danes, so that he was once more compelled to leave his Northumbrian dominion for Dublin, and Eric was chosen to fill BRYAN BORU. 155 his place. A part of the Danes still adhered to Aiilaf ; and having reinforced himself in Ireland, he marched again into Northumbria, and Eric was compelled to fly. King Edred marched an army into Northumberland, but a strong appeal to his mercy changed his pur- pose, and, listening to the wishes of the Danes, he confirmed Eric in his authority. Again, he had not retired when the Danes pursued and fell upon his rear, so that it was by considerable effort that his army escaped being cut to pieces. Justly resenting this repeated treachery, he collected a large army, and, returning, desolated North- umberland, and reduced it to a province of his own dominions. Of Anlaf, we find no other autlientic trace. BRYAN BORU. A. D. 917. Bryan was a younger son of Kennedy, king of Munster. On the succession of his eldest brother, Mahon, to the provincial throne, he had reached his thirty -fourth year. His enterprising spirit had made itself conspicuous in early life, and collected round him the bravest and most adventurous of the Munster youth. The activity of his genius, excited by universal expectation and the influence of this stir- ring companionship, quickly led to numerous bold and adventurous exploits on a small scale, which were important enough to raise his reputation for valoxir and conduct, while they prepared and opened the way for more weighty command. At this time the forest retreats and mountain passes of Munster were infested by numerous plundering parties, which spread fear and insecurity among the peaceful. Against these his little band of brave Dalcassians was trained to deeds of hardihood, and exercised in the warfare of the ag"e. The obscure annals of the period aftbrd no satisfactory means of tracing the steps of this early ascent to fame. The earliest event of importance, in which his presence is otherwise than inferentially ascertained, occurs in the course of an expedition in which he served under his brother. The purpose of this expedition was plunder — an object quite recon- cilable with the morality of tlie period, which recognised in its fullest extent the " good old rule," made universally familiar by Mr Words- worth's terse stanza — ' The good old rule sufficeth them — the simple plan — That those may take who have the power, and those may keep who can." In the spirit of this elastic equity, the party of king Mahon had swept together the spoil of half a county on the Connaught side of the Shannon; and, with the satisfactory sense of a conscientious execution of their duty, were meditating- a peaceful retreat, when O'Ruarc with a large body of bold Connaught men unfortunately appeared and quick- ened their march into a rapid retreat. The river Fairglin arrested their steps. Encumbered with their spoils, and by no means prepared for a pitched battle, the party of Mahon was taken at a very serious disadvantage; and their defeat was a consequence which no valour or skill could have averted. Malion saved himself by swimming the stream; while the character of Bryan was maintained by the cool and steady valour which mitigated, though it could not avert, the evil for- tune of the day. Another occasion, of which the event was more suited to the valour and renown of the brave Dalcassians, was not tardy in presenting itself. The Danes of Limerick, apprised of the approach of a strong body of Munster forces, had taken a position on a vast plain at Sulchoid, well known for the commodious extent and position which made it a suitable field for a pitched battle. On the approach of Mahon's army, a strong detachment was sent out to favour the purpose of observation. Against these Bryan advanced at the head of his troop, with such rapid impetuosity, that, before they could well prepare for blows, they were routed with the loss of half their number. This effective charge decided the battle. The fugitives, rushing in unexpectedly upon the main body, threw it into confusion, and scattered disarray and panic through every rank. Before they could recover, the entire force of Mahon was pouring its thick and steady column into the midst of their broken masses, with a force which permitted no effort to rally. An unresisted slaughter commenced, and continued till 3000 Danes lay heaped upon the field : they only recovered self-possession to fly, but the conquerors had broken through their scattered ranks and allowed them no advantage in flight. Both entered Limerick together ; and the work of death, commenced in the field, was prolonged into a hideous and indiscriminate scene of havoc in the city. At last the fury of the Dalcassians subsided, for want of foes to strike. Mahon then collected all the spoil of the city, and left behind him a desolate mass of smoking ruins. The reign of Mahon was signalized by frequent enterprises of the same kind; the repetition of which can now add nothing to the reader's interest, as they have nearly all the same character and event. The brilliant results of a continued succession of victories, must have placed this Dalcassian chief high among the most eminent names of his period ; but the crime of an inferior chief, not wholly accounted for, cut short his heroic career to this illustrious eminence, and left the way open to Bryan. A neighbouring chief — envious, it is said, of his fame, but more probably imder the exasperation of some slight, not intended by its author — contrived a most pei'fidious and cowardly scheme, of which Mahon was the victim. Like most impetuous persons, accustomed to meet with uniform de- ference and respect, Mahon could not suspect treachery under the mask of pretended friendship; frank and generous, too, he was slow to suspect the overtures of an humbled enemy. Maolmua — a person of aspiring and presumptuous character, who had once ventured to brave his authority, and suftered the reward of his temerity — sent him an urgent message, expressive of a strong desire to confer with him. There must imdoubtedly have been some important understanding, ot which we are not aware, to give weight and interest to the request; at all events, the frank and generous nature of Mahon was peculiarly open to such a demand. Summoning a few attendants, he turned to- wards the distant habitation of the chief. It was probably late when he arrived at a lonesome region among woods and mountains, where be was quickly surrounded by a strong party, and he found himself a BRYAN BORU. 167 helpless captive in the hands of an implacable enemy. The place of his death had been marked oat ; and, when the ni^ht had fully set in, he was hurried on to an unfrequented hollow in the mountains near Macroomp, where he was murdered. Bryan, who had for some time held the chieftainship of Thomond, succeeded to the throne of Munster, on his brother's death. He lost no time in exacting a stern retribution for the murder of his brave brother. Collecting an adequate force, he sought the perfidious Maol- mua where he had secured himself among the secluded and difficult recesses of the wild mountain district which had been the scene of his crime. Thus strongly posted — with a considerable force of his own, and assisted by the Danes, whom fear and hatred armed against the g-rowing power of Munster — Maolmua cherished a sti-ong sense of security, and doubtless was not without some presumptuous hope of winning honour by the defeat of a hated rival. But the courage of Bryan was tempered, in an unusual degree, with cool caution, and the skill acquired by long habits of forest and mountain warfare. Quickly ascertaining the position and advantages of his enemy, he discovered that a strong reinforcement, expected by Maolmua, had not yet come up; taking his measures accordingly, he managed to throw himself on its line of approach ; he thus intercejrted, and gained a complete victory over Donovan, Maolmua's ally ; and then, rapidly turning his steps, he came unexpectedly on the latter, who had probably supposed him to be still engaged with Donovan, and broken up from his position to assist his ally. However this may be, there is no doubt that Bryan surprised him somewhere near the spot of Mahon's murder, and de- feated his party with great slaughter. It is also mentioned, that Bryan's brave son, Morough, won his first fame in this battle, by en- gaging hand to hand with Maolmua, whom he slew on the spot which had been the scene of his brave uncle's murder. But the lasting honour, which has rendered the name of Bryan still more illustrious in the annals of his country, was not gained in civil feuds, of which the occurrence was but too frequent, and the results too fatal and durisble. These were but the obstacles with which his g-enius and valour had to contend in his long and consistent opposition to the strangers who, notwithstanding their partial conversion to Chris- tianity, still continued to persecute the religion and devastate the sacred monuments of Ireland. At the very time that he was engaged in taking just vengeance for his brother's death, the Danes were in possession of the island of Iniscathy, which the reader may recollect as the scene made venerable by the sanctity of its eleven churches, as well as by the tomb and recollections of its patron saint, Senanus. Here the Danes had availed themselves of the position and probably of the buildings which had been constructed for very different purposes, to establish a repository for military stores ; and, as the native Irish, by nature devoted in their zeal, whether for religion or superstition, flocked, in defiance of all danger, to pay their vows and place their offerings at the sacred shrines of the island, it thus afforded no small acquisition to the rapacity of its masters. Here Bryan landed with twelve hun- dred of his Dalcassian heroes ; and, after a fierce struggle with its Danish occupants, assisted by a strong detachment from Limerick, recovered entire possession of the sacred isle. His success was secured by subsequent operations. Availing himself of the dispersion and temporary prostration which his recent victories caused among the Danes, he laid waste the settlement they had established in the other islands of the Shannon and along its banks, and carried oft' a rich spoil. The encroachments of the Munster kings upon the monarchy had been, in some measure, sanctioned by time; yet a tribute which im- plied subjection, and which had no higher claim than that of success- ful usurpation, could not be expected to pass uncontested, longer than force or spirit were wanting to give eftect to resistance. Of this extorted contribution the people of Leinster were among the chief suf- ferers. By position, they were necessarily exposed to the power and influence of the Danes, who would not, of course, be slow to strengthen themselves against a powerful enemy, by instigating resistance among his tributaries. The Leinster province, thus stimulated by the king of the Danes of Desies, now joined in a strong confederacy with these and the Danes of Cork and Waterford, together with the chief of Ossory. In this exigency, Bryan's prompt spirit and masterly tactics did not fail him ; coming upon the combined force of his enemies, at a place called the Circle of the Sons of Conrad, he burst upon them with an overwhelming' force, which quickly scattered them into irre- trievable confusion, and, with prodigious slaughter, di'ove them from the field. The league being thus effectively dissipated, he followed up his victory by the steps usual in the barbaric warfare of the age. Seizing on the chief of Ossory, and exacting hostages from the chiefs of that province, he proceeded to ravage the territories of Leinster ; and, indemnifying himself for the tribute which had been withheld, by a rich spoil, he demanded hostages for their future submission, and received the homage of the Leinster chiefs in his tent. Before this time, the monarch Domnal, having been removed by death, he was succeeded by the brave prince, Malachy, whose wisdom and valour, while they were such as to shed permanent glory on his memory, were yet late to redeem the weakness which a succession of feeble monarchs had entailed on the sceptre of Tara. Malachy had, in the year 978, won universal honour by the splendid victory of Tara; in which, after a contest of memorable fierceness and slaughter on both sides, he routed the Danes, and broke their strength and confi- dence for a time. Thus balanced in strength and renown, and placed in the political position of rival claimants, these two prominent chiefs and warriors, must be supposed to look forward to the struggle for pre-eminence which could not long be deferred, and which each must have looked upon as involving his prospects of fame and ambition. Though, like P>ryan, ardently bent on resistance to the Danish chiefs, yet it was not to be expected that the active and successful campaigns which had confirmed the Munster usurpation of the rights of his crown, could be brooked with complacency by the warlike spirit of Malachy. The monarch's indignation was betrayed by a rash and splenetic action, which his calmer recollection must have condemned as unworthy. Having led a predatory expedition into the Dalcassian territory, he came in the course of his march to Adair, where his eye was met by ail ducieiit ami venerable tree, sacred for the immemorial usag-e bj which the Dalcassian princes were inaugurated under its spreading shades. Irritated by a swarm of humiliating and wounding associa- tions, his tiery impulse gave an order which, too promptly obeyed for recal, left the venerable tree prostrate on the ground — a disgraceful monument of an unworthy impulse, and of a deed which imparted a hallowed character to his rival's resentment. But Bryan's spirit was regulated by a patient and long-sighted comprehension of his own in- terests ; and ambition mastered the sense of insult in his firm and capacious mind. He knew his time, and allowed the over active Ma- lachy to ripen for vengeance. Malachy, rendered secure by this im- punity, again, in the following year, entered a part of his inheri- tance then under the dominion of Bryan. This could not be allowed to pass unresisted; and the superior ability of Bryan is shown by the prompt measures which, without a battle, and by the mere demonstra- tion of a superior force, compelled the monarch to give way, and to confirm, by a binding treaty, claims founded in usurpation. The tri- bute of Lelnster, formally ceded to Bryan, was, on this occasion, a trophy more honourable to himself, more mortifying to his rival, and in itself more profitable and permanent than the glory of twenty vic- tories could have really been. For some years there was peace between these great competitors ; but it was a politic forbearance, and affords no true interpretation of the dispositions of either. Malachy could not be supposed to ac- quiesce in the dismemberment of the monarchy, or in the growing power of a rival ; while, maturing in the depth of Bryan's thoughts, his designs on the monarchy itself awaited the seasonable moment of execution. Of this there is enough of indication in the whole consis- tent tenor of his progress ; there could, however, remain no lingering doubt, when, in 9^8, he availed himself of a costly and distant expedi- tion, which Malachy led against the Danes of Dublin, to invade the principal provinces of his dominion with an immense army. Covering the Shannon with the vessels in which he embarked his force, he descended upon Lough-Ree, and levied contributions from the whole bordering country. He then divided his force; and, sending one detachment into western Connaught, he led the other into the province of Meath : thus spreading plunder, slaughter, and waste, through both these important districts of the monarchy, he returned to KIncora laden with the spoil of two provinces. A warfare of spoliation and devastating inroads now continued, for some years, to foster the hostility and to weaken the resources of the two great competitors ; during which the spirit of Malachy and the vital strength of his monarchy are strongly shown, by the strenuous warfare which he kept up all this time against the Danes. Against this powerful common enemy, a sense of self-preservation at last com- bined, for a season, the forces of both these kings. The result was, a treaty based on the mutual recognition of their respective rights, to the sovereignty of the two great divisions of Leath Culnn and Leath Mogh. Uniting their forces, they marched to Dublin, whence they met with onlv sufficient resistance to justify the acquisition of spoil. A 160 MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION. more equal contest soon after led to the more honourable and decisive victory in the valley of Glenmaura. Thinking- to gain an advantage by siu-prise, the Danes came on their army with a seemingly superior force ; but the manoeuvre was rendered vain by the skill and valour of the Irish leaders ; who obtained a destructive victory, by which the Danes lost many chiefs, and among them Harolf, the son of king Anlaf. All danger arising from the power of the Danes was now, for a time, dispelled; and the bond which held together two spirits, of which neither could well brook the rival pretensions and character of the other, must have begun soon to grow uneasy to both. Historians who, looking on the results, to which these two illustrious warriors were led by the course of events, as the leading objects of their lives, have shown some anxiety to defend their heroes from the imputation of this breach. Considering them as patriot chiefs, whose policy it was to expel the common enemy of their country, such views might have some reason ; but it is quite obvious, on a consistent view of their entire course of conduct from the beginning, that the main object of each was the maintenance or extension of his power. Pa- triotism must be assumed in a limited sense, and modified by many considerations, which make it not worth contending for. The subject is well worth a little of the reader's attention, as one of the popular errors of every age. Each of these powerful rivals began to feel that the stage was clear for the contest in which, sooner or later, they nuxst of necessity be engaged ; and each, in all probability, bent his mind to the one only consideration of any importance, in the unprincipled g-anie in which monarchs have seldom thought it criminal to engage. The conduct of Malachy was pei'haps the most dexterous, as he took a stej) admitting of a doubtfid construction: he marched his troops into Leinster on a predatory excursion against those who, while they were by right his own subjects, were also by treaty under both tribute and allegiance to Bryan. To recover his sovereignty here must have been his princi- pal object; to retain it, Bryan's. It was the most serious loss which the monarchy had sustained, and the most splendid acquisition of the kings of Munster. This being considered, there can be little doubt as to the several impulses which moved these warriors. Bryan could not, without a jealous eye, look on so equivocal a proceeding ; and he felt that the time was come for a bolder and more decisive move. Collecting from every quarter a numerous force, and strengthening himself addi- tionally by a strong party of the Danes of Dublin, he marched towards the royal seat of Tara. Here, discovering that the monarch had taken up a position on the plain of Bregia, he detached a party of Danish cavalry, most probably for the purpose of observation; they came, however, into collision with Malachy's force, and, rashly pressing on, were cut to pieces. The triumph of Malachy was but short-lived. Bryan's army soon came up, and, by its vast numerical superiority, made it evident that nothing but defeat was to be expected from resistance. The monarch, therefore, submitted; and, making those appeals to justice and gener- osity which suited the occasion, he secured present safety by submis- BRYAN BORU. 161 sion and hostages. Bryan, however willing', could not have attacked him under the circumstances, without the certainty of incurrins- re- proaches that would but ill second any further designs which he may be supposed to have entertained.* Mr O'Halloran, who seems to have, to an unusual extent, yielded to the temptation of writing history in the spirit of romance, represents the monarch as not only having appealed (as he may have done) to the generosity of Bryan, hut also as pledging himself to meet him in the field, and set his crown on the issue of a battle. For this, we are assured, there is no authority. Bryan had, however, in all probability, a clear perception of a fact, which cannot now be so easily inferred — that his object was, by this event, quietly secured; and if so, there needs no further reason for a forbearance which saved his force, avoided an unnecessary risk, and ensured golden opinions. And, if we suppose this event to have been the result of forecast and deliberate projection, it is not easy to give too much credit to the sagacity and adroitness which executed so able a mancBuvre. From the moment of the event, which had thus set the superiority of Bryan's force and conduct on so prominent an elevation, the opinion of every class must have been working round into an anti- cipation of the issue. The real danger of an usurpation of such mag- nitude, must have consisted chiefly in the first great shock to the con- ventional notions of the Irish aristocracy. The appeal of the monarch — struck by surprise from his ancient throne, in the very height of a glorious career — to the pity, sympathy, and justice of kings and chiefs, would have been formidable in its first efi"ects ; but the actual event, while it magnified his illustrious rival, subjected IMalachy to a strong reverse of feeling, from which nothing but prompt and vigorous mea- sures of retaliation could have saved him. And when, in the follow- ing year, 1001, his rival marched to Tara at the head of a sti-ong force, there was neither help for the monarch in his weakness nor pity in his misfortune. Without a blow to retrieve the honour of his house, the " descendant of fifty Hy-Niell kings""]" became a subject, and pledged his allegiance to Bryan as monarch of Ireland. The view here taken of the cautious policy of Bryan, if not abso- lutely affirmed, is strongly justified by the concurring conduct both of himself and the excluded branches of the monarchical family. On his side, restless vigilance and the demonstration of military force — on theirs, a succession of cautious and timid, yet sufficiently intelligible attempts at disturbance — w-ere terminated by a bolder eff'ort, which g-ave occasion to Bryan to crush their disaff"ection, in a victory which he gained over the southern Hy-Niells near Athlone. He next had to encounter some feeble demonstrations on the part of Aodh, the grandson of the renowned Murkertach, and the northern Hy-Niell branch ; who severally exhibited a disposition to resist, but were, without any serious effort, repressed. It would, perhaps, be carrying too far the license of historical scep- ticism, to refuse to Malachy the praise which his subsequent course of * To explain Bryan's forbearance r-quires no supposition. His conduct was equal!)- prudent on the opposite assunr.ption, thou£;h the reason would be in some degree different. f -Mijore. I. I. Tr. 162 MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION. conduct will bear. If his motives were not of the highest order, his actions will yet bear the noblest interpretation; and, although it is our opinion that he could not, with safety or prudent policy, have taken any course but that which, while it preserved his substantial power, kept open the succession, — ^yet we must admit that the most heroic patriotism could not have selected higher ground than the course actually pursued by the deposed monarch. As we have already taken occasion to observe, a high course of conduct, in whatever motives it may begin, seldom fails to call into action those high motives from which it should have arisen. Such is the mixed character of hmnan virtues. Setting aside the philosophy of motives, Malachy's acquiescence in his rival's supremacy was followed by a sincere and manly, as well as wise adoption of the best means to give firmness and security as well as a beneficial direction to the usurper's government. Aware that a struggle for the monarchy would be the certain sacrifice of the nation to the common enemy, he exerted his influence to preserve the peace of the country; and, when Bryan made a splendid display of military strength and royal munificence, in a progress through his dominions, attended by the kings of Leath Mogh with their attendant forces, Mal- achy, accompanied by the conting-ent due from his own province, followed with the rest. These progresses form, for some years, a conspicuous feature in the policy of Bryan. They mvtst have combined many important advan- tages. Admirably adapted to conciliate the veneration of the multi- tude, they afforded a not invidious test and surveillance over the chiefs, few of whom were indeed above the influence of the popular impres- sions made by these magnificent displays of power. The costly devo- tion of the new monarch — whose offerings at the shrines of churches, and general munificence to the church, secured for him the zealous support of that influential body — affords an additional indication of the profoimd and comprehensive policy of his character. The consequence of this vigorous and prudent policy cannot fail to be anticipated by the reader. Equally vigilant to control disaf- fection and turbulence, and to conciliate opinion — equally politic to select the means, and powerful to enforce them — his reign was the most prosperous for Ireland that her annals, with any seeming of truth, record. The dissensions of chiefs, the restless hostilities of the Danes, the incessant and universal harass and insecurity arising from the sanctioned practice of robbery on every scale, were compelled, for a time to pause and disappear before the ascendancy of a policy so alert, vigilant and pervading. The ruin of ancient institutions was repaired; and laws, which had dropped into disuse in the general disorder, were restored, improved, and enforced. Much of the unauthoritative exag- gei'ation of historians may be dedvicted from this account; but still probability itself affirms enough to convince us, that a considerable advance in national prosperity must have followed the use of means so well adapted to produce it. It is added, that this monarch expended the public revenue on solid improvements. Roads, bridges, and for^ tresses, as well as churches and colleges, arose wherever they were required; and it will be easily believed, that royal dwellings were not forgotten. The next noticeable event is one which strongly confirms our view of the real principles of Bi-yan's conduct. In 1013, the Danes, in combination with the natives of Leinster, made a fierce incursion into Malachy's province of Meath. Malachy retorted the injury by an in- road into Leinster, in which he burned the country up to the hill of Howth (anciently Ben Hedar, or the Mountain of Birds). Here his progress was intercepted by the combined forces of the king of Lein- ster and the Danes, and he was defeated with great loss of lives ; amongst which were his son and many of the chiefs of his province. In his distress, he addressed to Bryan an appeal, the refusal of which cannot be easily reconciled with justice or generosity. To this appli- cation, however, a cold refusal was the only response which the un- remitting, but not always high-minded, policy of Bryan could afford. The prudence, indeed, of this refusal may well be doubted ; but, under the circumstances, a suspicion is suggested, that a further depression of the still popular king of Meath, now deprived of his next heir, woidd not be unwelcome to the ambitious and hard-minded monarch. The consequences of a triumph thus allowed to the Danes could not be a surprise to Bryan : the Danes of Dublin, combined with the Irish of Wicklow, soon assumed a menacing attitude, and he was ready to shake off his politic repose. He now led his army towards Dublin, wasting the lands of Ossory upon his way. His eldest son, Morough, he detached to create a diversion in Wicklow; who, in the same man- ner, carried devastation and slaughter as far as Glendalough. The monarch, having reached Kilmainham, encamped there, and remained for some months. At last, having so far succeeded as to keep the Danes in awe, though unable to effect a more decisive result, he re- turned to Kincora enriched with the ample plunder of the province. The activity of the Danes was, however, not to be subdued by any demonsti-ation of military power. Possessed of the strong-est fortifi- cations then in the island, with superior naval and commercial re- sources — -and though inferior in numerical force, superior in military discipline and arms — they had the prudence, activity, and address, which enabled them to multiply their attacks, and to put in motion the ever-ready and restless turbulence of their neighbours, in whatever direction their own policy required. During Bryan's encampment before their walls they had managed to effect a most destructive descent on Munster ; but, before they could re-embark, they received a severe repulse from the iiJiabitants, which cost them many lives, among which was Anlaf, son of the king of Dublin. But no partial effort, or merely predatory descent, could avail to secure, against Bryan's growing power, the extensive and also in- creasing possessions and influence of the Danes. It was necessary for them to adopt far more ordered and energetic measures for their OAvn security. The designs of Bryan were perhaps better understood by them, than they can now be traced among- our scanty records ; but it seems apparent that a struggle could not fail .soon to take place. The Danes adopted a course which requires no hesitation to interpret. 164 MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION. They summoued tlieir allies from every quarter where their country- men were to be found. Scotland, and the northern islands in her vicinity, were roused to arms by their envoys; the coasts and islands of the Baltic received the awakening message, and responded with the din and bustle of preparation. The accounts given by historians, differ so widely on the circum- stances which led to these preparations, that they in some measure expose the arbitrary character of such statements. There is, indeed, every probability, that all such statements as go beyond the mere nar- rative of the event, are of the same nature and have the same degree of truth as the news-room disclosures of the present time; which col- lect probability and circumstantiality, as they pass from tongue to tongue, until either the fact becomes truly known, or the report be- comes confirmed by sufferance when the time for exposing it is gone past. The statements of the most widely different kind may, nevertheless, have all their foundation in real facts, on which busy conjecture has supplied the connexion. These remarks find some illustration in the statements here referred to.* Hanmer, citing the Book of Howth, gives a story which we shall abridge. A Danish merchant, who was jealous of his wife, having occasion to absent himself, left her under the protection of Bryan's lady; but still distrustful of this guardianship, his absence was made unhappy by doubts as to the validity even of a monarch's protection in such a case. Hastening his return, he came, early in the morning, by surprise into his wife's apartment, and there found her with Morough, the monarch's eldest son. Without disturb- ing the guilty pair, he exchanged swords with Morough ; and, finding the monarch, vented his indignation in threats which were but too soon fulfilled. Bryan, we suspect, would have cut short his menaces by a still more summary arbitrement. But there is this value in the tale ; that, allowing for the invention which stoi'y-tellers use to come at the chasms of their facts, it seems to point to some " foregone conclusion," and may have occurred, without being more than remotely connected, as one of many incidents, with the battle of Clontarf.f Such, indeed, is the common vice of history, and the main consideration vvliich justifies the dry matter-of-fact method of our annals. These stories atiord us the occasion of noticing the manner in which contemporary gossip was likely to mix itself with history. Anyone who reflects on the numerous discrepant reports on every incident of sufficient note — whicli fill the columns of papers and buzz round the streets, attracting credence each in some private circle, and, if not contra- dicted by the event, passing unquestioned or undecided into a dim recollection — will easily conceive how the same process may have given a shape to the private history of a period, when rumour was more authoritative and the age less sceptical. The earnest anxiety to secure credence, by the most scrnpulous investigation, is even now inadequate to secure invariable precision to historic statements. The true occasions — which are of a general and purely political nature — of this great struggle were, in a time of comparatively small intelligence, little lilielv to be known, except to parties concerned. But the occurrence of incidents, such as those of which we have given the above versions, were, in the highest degree, likely to be seized on as causes, and woven by the chronicler into a connexion with the events. From this operation would also arise the particular shape of the narrative; it was an allowed custom to invent the speeches ; and the facts being admitted, the narrator had no idea that, in shaping them into explicit connexion, he was departing from the office of an historian. f Hanmer, 184. BRYAN BOEU. 165 Anothei" story we shall extract from the ancient document, which we design to adopt as our authority for the particulars of this celel^rated battle. If true, it has the rare merit of affording a singularly clear glimpse of the domestic manners of the age and country; but we ought to add that, without questioning the foundation of the statement, we cannot adopt the writer's statement of the consequences. The story is thus, in the writer's (or rather the translator's) words: — '* 3Iaelmordha, who usurped the crown of Leinster, in 999? b^ the assiatance of tJie Danes, being at an entertainment at Kincora, saw Morog'h, Bryan's eldest son, at a game of chess, and advised his anta- gonist to a movement which lost Morogh the game ; whereupon Morogh observed to him, with a sneer, that if he had given as good advice to the Danes at the battle of Glen-mara, the Danes would not have I'eceived so great an overthrow. To which Maelmordlia replied : ' My instructions, the next time, shall lead them to victory ;' and Morogh, with contempt, bade them defiance. Maelmordha became enraged, retired to his bedchamber, and did not appear at the ban- quet ; but passed the night in restless anger, and ruminating his coun- try's ruin. Early next morning he set out for Leinster, without taking leave of his monarch or any of his household, to show that he was bent upon desperate revenge. The good monarch, on hearing of his departure, sent one of his servants after him, to request his reconciliation with Morogh. The servant overtook him east of the Shannon, not far from Killaloe, and delivered his message from the monarch. Maelmordha, who all the while listened with indignation, as soon as the servant was done speaking, raised the rod of yew which he had in his hand, and, with three furious blows thereof, fractured the servant's skull, to make known to Bryan how he i-ejected such re- conciliation. He pursued his way on horseback to Leinster; where, the next day, he assembled his nobles, represented to them the insult he had received at Kincora, and inllamed them to so great a degree^ that they renounced their allegiance to Bryan, confederated with the Danes, and sent the monarch defiance. f]missaries were sent to Den- mark and Norway. The Danes of Normandy, Britain, and the isles, joyfully entered into the confederacy, pleased at the prospect of once more gaining possessions in this land f owing with milk and honeyT But whatever may have been the incidental causes, which imme- diately brought on the decisive battle which now followed, there can be no doubt as to the general accuracy of its details. The following account is taken, with some omissions of little gene- ral interest, from a translation of an ancient manuscript, by an Irish scholar of established reputation, who has given additional value to his work by carefully collating it with the Annals of Inisfallen and Ulster* After enumerating the Danish force, the ancient amialist proceeds as follows: — " The king of Leinster, being now animated by the number of his auxiliaries, without longer delay, bid defiance, by a herald, to the monarch Bryan, and challenged him to fight at Moynealty, a spacious plain near Dublin, now called Clontarf. * Ml J. O'Uonovun for the Dvlihn Penny Journal, p. 133. I I i ' 166 MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION. " Bryan Borumha, with all possible speed, mustered the forces of Munster and Connaug-ht, and marched directly to Clontarf, the place appointed, and there saw the enemy prepared to oppose him, viz., sixteen thousand Danes, together with all the power of Leinster, under the command of their king, Maelmurdha, the sole author of this battle. Then the power of Meath came in to aid their monarch Bryan, under the conduct of Maelseaghlain their king, who, however, intended to betray Bryan. For this purpose, he sent to the king of Leiiister to inform him, that Bryan had despatched his son, Donogh, at the head of a third part of the Eugenian forces, to ravage Leinster, and that he and his thousand Meathmen would desert Bryan on the day of battle. Accordingly, it was determined to attack Bryan before Donogh could come up. He was then encamped on the plain, near Dublin, with a smaller army than he otherwise should have had. His opponents formed themselves into three divisions : the first consisting of a thousand North- men, covered with coats of mail from head to foot, and commanded by Carolus and Anrud, two Norwegian princes ; and the Danes of Dub- lin, under Dolat and Conmael. The second division consisted of Lagenians, about nine thousand strong, commanded by their king-, Maelmordha MacMorogh ; and under him several minor princes, such as Mac Tuathal or Toole, of the Liffey territory, the prince of Hy- Falgy (Ophaly), together with a larg-e body of the Danes. The third division was formed of the Northmen, collected from the islands, from Scotland, &c. ; it w as commanded by Loder, eai-1 of the Orkneys, and Broder, admiral of the fleet, which had brought the auxiliary North- men to Ireland. Bryan was not dismayed by this mighty force; and, depending on Providence and the bravery of his troops, prepared for battle, dividing his troops likewise into three divisions ; one to oppose the enemy's first division, under his son Morogh, who had along with him his son Torlogh, and a select body of the brave Dalcassians, be- sides four other sons of Bryan — Teige, Donald, Connor, and Flan — and various chieftains, Douchnau, &c., &c., &c., together with a body of men from Conmaicne-mara, a western part of Ireland, under Car- nan their chief. To this division Maelseaehlain was ordered to join his followers. Over the division which was to fight the second of the enemy, Bryan placed Kian and Donald, two princes of the Eugenian line, under whom were the forces of Desmond, and other parts of the south of Ireland, viz., Mothla, son of Faelan, king of the Desies; Mur- tough, son of Amnchadha, lord of Hy-Liathan ; Scanlan, son of Ca- thal, &c., &c., &c. The division opposed to the third of their antagonists, consisted chiefly of Connacians, commanded by Teige O' Conor, as chief, under whom were Mulroney O'Heyne, chief of Aidhne; Teige O'Kelley, king of Hy-maine ; O'Doyle, &c., &c. " The Northmen, who had arrived, under Broder, at Dublin, on Palm-Sunday, a. d, 1014, insisted on the battle being fought on Good Friday, which fell on the 23d of April — a day on which, by reason of its sanctity, Bryan would have wished to avoid fighting; yet he was determined to defend himself, even on that day; and, holding the crucifix in his left hand, and his sword in the right, rode with his son, Morogh, through the ranks, and addressed them as follows, as we read in the Annals of Tnisjallen, under t.lie year 1014: — BRYAN BORU. 167 " ' Be not dismai/ed because that my son, Donogh, with the third part of the Momonian forces, is absent from you, for they are plundering Leinster and the Danish territoi'ies. Long have the vnen of Ireland groaned under the tyranny of these sea fay-ing pirates ! the murderers of your kings and chieftains ! plunderers of your fortresses! profane destroyers of the churches arid monasteries of God! who have trampled upon, and committed to the flames, the relics of his saints !' — (and raising his voice) — ' May the Almighty God, through his great mercy, give you strength and courage this day to put an end for ever to the Lochlu- nian tyranny in Ireland, and to revenge upon them their many per- fidies, and their profanation of the sacred edifices dedicated to his wor- ship — this day on which Jesus Christ himself suffered death for your redemption! ' So saying,' continue the Annals, ' he showed them the symbol of the bloody sacrifice in his left hand, and his golden-hilted sword in his right, declaring that he was willing to lose his life in so just and honourable a cause ; and he proceeded toward the centre to lead on his troops to action; but the chiefs of the army, with one voice, requested he would retire from the field of battle, on account of his great age, and leave to his eldest son, Morogh, the chief com- mand. " At sunrise in the morning, the signal for battle was given; but, at this very critical moment, Maelseachlain, finding an opportunity of being in some measure revenged of Bryan, retired suddenly from the scene of action with his thousand Meathmen, and remained an in- active spectator during the whole time of the battle, without joining either side. " This defection certainly rendered the division of the monarch's army very unequal in numbers to that of the enemy's which they were appointed to engage with ; but Morogh, with great presence of mind, cried out to his brave Dalcassians, ' that this was the time to distin- guish themselves, as they alone would have the uni'ivalled glory of cutting off that formidable body of the enemy.' " And now, whilst the Dalcassians were closely engaged with bat- tle-axe, sword, and dagger, the second division, under the command of the king of Connaught, hastened to engage the Danes of Leinster and their insular levies; whilst the troops of South Munster attacked Maelmordlia and his degenerate Lagenians. Never was greater in- trepidity, perseverance, or animosity, displayed in any other battle than in this, as every thing depended on open force and courage. The situa- tion of the ground admitted of no ambuscades, and none were used; they fought man to man and breast to breast, and the victors in one rank fell victims in the next. The commanders, on both sides, per- formed prodigies of valour. Morogh, his son Torlogh, his brethren and kindi-ed, flew from place to place, and everywhere left the san- guinary traces of their coui'age. The slaughter committed by Morogh excited the fury of Carolus and Conmael, two Danes of distinction ; they attacked him in conjunction, and both fell by his sword. Sitric, the son of Loder, observed that INIorogh and other chiefs retired from the battle more than twice, and, after each return, seemed to be pos- sessed of double vigour ; — it was to quench their thirst, and cool their hands, swelled from the violent use of the sword and battle-axe, in an 168 MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION. adjoining well, over which a guard of twelve men were placed. 'I'his the Danes soon destroyed. " On rejoining his troops the last time, Sitric, the son of Loder, with a body of Danes, was making a fresh attack on the Dalcassians, and him Morogh singled out, and, with a blow of his battle-axe, divided his body in two, through his armour! The other Irish commanders in like maimer distinguished themselves, though their exploits are not so particularly narrated ; and it would seem, from the number of prime quality that fell on both sides, that the chiefs everywhere attacked each other in single combat. " The issue of the day remained doubtful until near four o'clock in the afternoon; and then it was that the Irish made so general an attack on the enemy, that its force was not to be resisted. Destitute of leaders, and consequently in disorder, the Danes gave way on every side. Morogh, at this time, through the violent exertion of his right arm, had both hand and arm so pained, as to be unable to lift them up. In this condition he was attacked by Anrudh the son of Ebhric ; but IMorogh, closing in upon him, seized him with the left hand, shook him out of his coat of mail, and, prostrating him, pierced him with his sword by leaning with his breast upon it, and pressing upon it with the weight of his body. In this dying situation of Anrudli, he never- theless seized the skeine (scymiter) which hung by Morogh's side, and with it gave him, at the same instant, a mortal wound ! The Dane expired on the spot; but Morogh lived until next morning, when he made his confession and received the sacrament. " The confusion became general through the Danish army, and they fled on every side. Laidin, the servant of Bryan, observing the con- fusion, feared that the imperial army was defeated. He hastily entered the tent of Bryan, who was on his knees before a crucifix, and requested that he would immediately take a horse and flee. ' No,' said Bryan, ' it was to conquer or die I came here ; but do you and my other atten- dants take my horses to Armagh, and communicate my will to the successor of St Patrick: — That I bequeath my soul to God, my body to Armagh, and my blessing to my son Donogh. Give two hundi-ed cows to Armagh along with my body; and go directly to Swords of Columbkille, and order them to come for my body to-morrow and con- duct it to Duleck of St Kiaran, and let them convey it to Lowth ; whither let Maelmurry, the son of Eochy Comharb of St Patrick, come with the family of Armagh, and convey it to their cathedral.' " ' People are coming towards us,' says the servant. ' What sort of people are they ?' says Bryan. ' Green naked people,' says the servant. ' They are the Danes in armour,' says Bryan ; and he rose from his pillow, seized his sword, and stood to await the approach of Broder and some of his followers, and he saw no part of him without armour, except his eyes and his feet. Bryan raised his hand, and gave him a blow, with which he cut off" his left leg from the knee, and the right from the ankle ; but Broder's axe met the head of Bryan and fractured it. Bryan, however, with all the fury of a dying warrior, beheaded Broder, and killed a second Dane by whom he was attacked, and then gave up the ghost. " From the vast number of chiefs who fell, we may form some idea BE^AN BORU. 169 of the carnage on both sides. On the monarch's side, besides him- self, were slain Morogh, with two of his brothers, and his grandson, Turlogh ; his nephew, Conang; the chiefs of Corca Baisgin, of Fer- moy, of Coonach, of Keri-y-Luacha, of Eoganacht Loeha Leiu, of Hy- Conaill Gabhra, of Hy-Neachach Mumhan, of the Desies, &c., fell in this battle; as did the Connaught prince, O'Kelly of Hy-Maine, O'Heyne, and many others. " The great stewards of Leamhne (Lennox) and Mar, with other brave Albanian Scots, the descendants of Core, king of Munster, died in the same cause. " On the side of the enemy there fell Maelmordha, the cause of all this blood, with the princes of Hy-Failge (Ophaly), of Magh-Liflfo, and almost all the chiefs of Leinster, with three thousand of their bravest troops. Of the Danes, besides their principal officers, there fell 14,000 men. The thousand men that wore coats of mail are said to have been all cut to pieces. " The Danes were routed and pursued to their ships, and as far as the gates of Dublin. The surviving foreigners took an eternal fare- well of the country, and the Irish Danes returned to Dublin." That this was a real and great victory is attested in the Annals of Inisf alien, under the year 1014, as also in the Annals of the Four Masters and of Ulster; yet Sir James Ware, in his Antiquities of Ireland, chap, xxiv., has some doubts on this point, as if, towards the end, the Danes became uppermost. But the Scandinavian account of this sanguinary battle, which was, long after, famous throughout Europe, is sufficient to remove this doubt. The Niala Saga, in John- stone, Antiquitates Celto-Scandicce, has a curious account of this battle ; in which the Northmen are represented as flying in all directions, and large parties of them totally destroyed. And in the Chronicle of Ademar, monk of St Eparchius of Angouleme, this battle is repre- sented as even greater than it really was; for it is said, that all the Northmen were killed, and, it is added, that crowds of their women threw themselves into the sea. Yet it is true, that of some of their divisions not a man was left alive. Ademar makes the battle last three days, but this does not agree with other accounts. In the Niala Saga, above-mentioned, a northern prince is intro- duced as asking, some time after the battle, what had become of his men? The ansAver was, that they were all killed. This seems to allude to the division in the coats of mail, which, as we are told in the Annals of I nis fallen, were all cut to pieces! The body of Bryan, according to his will, was conveyed to Armagh. First, the clergy of Swords, in solemn procession, brought it to their abbey ; from thence, the next morning, the clergy of Damliag (Du- leek) conducted it to the church of St Kiaran. Here the clergy of Lowth (Lughmach) attended the corpse to their own monastery. The archbishop of Armagh, with his suffragans and clergy, received the body at Lowth, whence it was conveyed to their cathedral. For twelve days and nights it was watched by the clergy, dm'ing which time there was a continued scene of prayers and devotions ; and then it was interred with great funeral pomp at the north side of the altar of the great church. The body of Morogh, with the heads of 170 MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION. Conang, and Faelan prince of the Desies, were deposited in the south aisle of that church ; but his grandson, Turlogh, and most of the other chiefs, were interred at the monasteiy of Kihuainhana.* MALACHY. A. D. 950—1022. The death of Bryan, and of his heroic son, left the conclusion of this decisive day to Malachy, whose history may be taken up and concluded from the event which once more restored him to his rights. It is already known to the reader, that about thirty-four vears pre- vious to the period of his life at which we are now arrived, Malacliv succeeded King Domnal in the monarchy of Ireland; nor will it be forgotten, that soon after his accession, he gained a signal and deci- sive victory over the Danes, in the battle of Tara, which is said to have lasted three days without interruption. This achievement was made illustrious by the '• noble proclamation " by which it was fol- lowed: — "Let all the Irish who are now suffering servitude in the lands of the stranger, return now to their several homes, and enjoy tiiemselves in gladness and peace." Among the captives released on this occasion were Domnal, king of Leinster, and O'Niell, prince of Tyrone. With this glorious opening, the general character and conduct of * The following just notice of Bryan's cluiracter and policy, is from Mr Moore's History : — " In estimating the character of Bryan Boru, it will he found that there are three distinct points of view in which he stands forth prominently to the eye, namely, as a great warrior, a successful usurper, and a munificent friend to the church. In the attributes belonging to him, under these three several aspects, are to be found the main as well as subsidiary sources of his fame. The career of Bryan, as a military leader, appears to have been uniformly, with one single exception, success- ful ; and, from the battle of Sulchoid to that of Clontarf, his historians number no less than fifty great battles, in which he bore away the palm of victory from the Northmen and their allies. '■ In his usurpation of the supreme power, lie was impelled evidently by motives of i^ieltish ambition ; nor could he have entailed any more ruinous evil upon the country, than by thus setting an example of contempt for established rights, and thereby weakening, in the minds of the people, that habitual reverence for ancient laws and usages, which was the only security afforded by the national character for the preservation of public order and peace. The fatal consequences of this step, both moral and political, will be found but too strikingly evolved in the subsequent history. Attempts have been made to lend an appearance of popular sanction to his usurpation, by the plausible pretence that it was owing to the solicitation of the states and princes of Connaught, that he was induced to adopt measures for the deposition of Malachy. In like manner, to give to this step some semblance of concert and deliberation, we are told of a convention of the princes of the king- dom held at Dundalk, preliminary to the assumption of the monarchy, and con- voked in contemplation of that step. "But the truth is, for none of these supposed preparatives of his usurpation, is there the slightest authority in any of our records; and the convention held at Dundealga, or Dundalk, so far from being a preliminary measure, did not take place till after the ' first rebellion,' as it is styled by our annalists, of the king of Munster against the monarch." — Moore's Hist. MALACHY. 171 Malacby concurred to raise expectation; and all things seemed to an- nounce the beginning of a prosperous and illustrious reign. He was considered by the kings and princes of the island, to be among the most powerfiil and wisest monarchs that ever sat upon the Irish throne ; and his whole conduct through life, until one equivocal occurrence which has clouded his fame with a dark suspicion, was such as to maintain his pretensions to his title of " the Great." But his virtue, power, and success, unhappily fell under the influence of an evil com- bination of events; and have left a striking illustration of the power of circumstance, and the feebleness of human strength. We have, in our life of Bryan, been obliged to anticipate the series of reverses which terminated in the deposition of this great warrior and king, and shall not now repeat them. After the battle of Clontarf, he comes again upon the scene of events after an interval of some years ; but with diminished lustre, and a taint upon his honour, which they who have attempted his vindication, have not found means to remove. Looking attentively to the facts and the reasons on either side, we have only succeeded in arriving at the conclusion — that much may be said, and nothing proved, on either side. As this question is now to be regarded as the principal interest of the remainder of Malachy's career, we shall not hesitate to pause upon it : and though, like the " anarch old," in Milton's poem, it may be thought that our decision " more embroils the fray" — being able to reach no conclusion — we shall impart the benefit of our doubts. It has already been stated in the account of the battle of Clontarf, that as soon as the engagement had commenced, Malachy withdrew from the field with his provincial troops, and remained inactive until the termination of the fight. This defection, upon such an occasion, could scarcely escape from the malignity or justice of imputation. Mr Moore treats the story with contempt, on the strong ground of Malachy's previous reputation ; on the less tenable ground of its wanting authority ; and on the utterly inconclusive ground of his sub- sequent conduct on the termination of the day, when Bryan having been slain, he assumed the command, and completed the victory.* The first of these reasons we admit in the fullest extent to which such a principle can be admitted in estimating human conduct; the second can scarcely be maintained against the Annals of' Inisfallen, and the contemporary waiter whose account we have given at length; the third has positively no weight. Any inference in Malachy's favour, from his conduct after the battle, is destroyed by the consideration, that the contrary conclusion is perfectly reconcilable wilh the same facts. The discomfiture of Bryan and his sons was the most probable means of restoring Malachy, especially if favoured by the support of the conquerors. But a still more favourable means of promoting the same main object, was precisely that which, by a favourable conjunction of circumstances, took place ; and there was but one way of meeting it. His guilt yet undivulged; his rival swept from his path; a conquering army under his command, and a' glorious victory throwing a splendid reflection on his character ; — there was none either to accuse him or to * Moore's Hist. ii. 108. 138. 172 MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION. claim his pledge. In the turn of the fight, his vigorous reinlbrcemem would be likely to meet all questions, or silence all objectors whom the fate of the field had not quelled. In the confusion of a wide-spread field of slaughter, it is little known to any but the leaders, who is present or absent from the field; and a temporary secession woxild appear but as a prudent reserve, kept for a decisive onset, and then effecting its work : the assumption of a monarch's power would silence the detractor's tongue. But the same conditions, which would have facilitated and concealed the base manoeuvre here supposed, may have also, in some degree, it must be admitted, have favoured the still baser and less excusable whisper of calumny. The action of Malachy was equivocal: it might be treachery, it might be a politic reserve, it may have been a movement preconcerted with Bryan; he may have with- held his forces, first for the usual purposes of a reserve, and then from seeing they were not wanting. And on such a supposition, it is far from impossible that Malachy's prudent reserve, perhaps preconcerted with the leader, might be misrepresented as the fulfilment of a treach- erous understanding with the enemy ; and that the surviving family of Bryan might, either by error or design, have been led to devise or listen to a surmise, injm'ious to an ancient rival, who was now to gain the ascendant over their family by the very event which should be the most crowning and glorious consummation of its fortune. Looking to the facts, we cannot detect the slightest inclination in the balance of judgment. Looking to mere policy, the keen and long- continued rivalship — the injury, and humiliation more galling than injury, sustained at his rival's hands — the favourable chance of the occasion, and the strong impulses of ambition and jealousy, with the long-suppressed workings of vindictive feeling, and the alleged treason, seems to be a result naturally suggested in the perusal of the history. But the whole of this nefarious web of baseness is so inconsistent with all that can be authentically known of Malachy's character, that, on this ground alone, we must reject it as the well- conceived slander of a rival or an enemy. The baseness imputed is of the lowest stamp, and involves all that is degrading in human character; it is far below the level to which a generous mind and an elevated understanding can easily stoop. Malachy stood high above the betrayer's class ; and, though human virtue is fallible, such an inversion of feelings is not to be presumed on grounds which admit of a more natural explanation. On the force of this argument — one rather to be felt than clearly understood — we must consider the question to rest. Let not the reader charge us with needless digres- sion, to arrive at so slight an inference: it is no less than the ques- tion, whether this renowned warrior is to be regarded as a hero or a knave. A more impressive proof perhaps of this conclusion, is the prompt and unquestioning assent of the native princes to Malachy's re-assump- tion of the monarchical crown. His first act was the vigorous prose- cution of the victory which had been just obtained. The blow so fatal to the Danish power, was followed up by an attack on their stronghold in Dublin, of which he destroyed the greater part. Although the result of the battle of Clontarf was the complete subversion of the powerful ascendancy which their wealth and arms had been for a long time acquiring in the confused politics of the country, still this brave and persevering people were reluctant to let go their hold of a country so favourable to the acquisition of wealth. In the next year, they obtained strong reinforcements, and renewed their predatory inroads by an expedition into Carlow, then known by the name of Hy-Kinselagh. They were once more interrupted in their course by a successful attack from Malachy, who routed them with considerable slaughter. In this year also, a most ill-timed cruelty was the means of drawing- down another signal and decisive blow upon their declining state. The fierce Sitric, under the irritation caused by repeated humiliations, caused his recent ally, the prince of Leinster, to be deprived of sight. The people of Leinster rose up ag-ainst the cruel and ungrateful tyrant, and gained a destructive victory over his forces at Delgany. The spirit of the native princes when relieved from the firm coercion of Bryan's ascendant policy, and extricated from the constant fear of Danish incursions, soon began to blaze forth with its wonted and characteristic energy. Dissension among themselves, and insubordi- nation to the monarch, soon began to show themselves in every quarter. The military promptitude of Malachy was displayed in the valour and efficiency with which he checked revolts and encroachments among his restless tributaries. In 1016, he obtained hostages from the Ulster princes. In the following year he met the Danes again, and defeated them at Othba. There is a sameness in the repetition of the same featureless events. They convey nothing to the mind more than may be conveyed by the expression of their sum. Among the numerous successes of the same nature, Malachy gained an important victory over the O'Nealls of the North — and received hostages from the princes of Connaught. " In approaching," writes Mr Moore, " the close of this eminent prince's career, it should not be forgotten, among his other distinguished merits, that unlike the greater part of those chieftains who flourished in what may be called the Danish period, he never, in any one instance, sullied his name by entering into alliance with the foreign spoilers of his country: and as the opening year of his reign had been rendered memorable by a great victory over the Danes, so, at the distance of near half a century, his closing hours were cheered by a triumph over the same restless but no longer formidable foe." Without entering to the full extent into Mr Moore's views of the patriotism of Malachy or of his age, we think that the fact observed in the above extract, is the most authentic justification of Malachy to be found in his history. His enmity to the Danes appears to assume, in his character, that consistent ascendancy which belongs to a man's characteristic habits only; and against the violation of which there is always a prima facie probability, which must repel conjectural affirmations to the contrary. In the year 1022, he obtained another glorious and decisive victory over the Danes at Athboy, then called the Yellow Ford. Inmiediately after the battle, feeling the approach of death, he retired to a small island upon the Lake Aumin in Meath ; where, resigning himself to death, he spent his last moments in devotion. His deathbed \\as 174 MONAECHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION. cheered and alleviated by the attendance of the three Comorbans, suc- cessors of St Patrick, Columba, and Ciaran, and illustrated by acts of public charity, which have been celebrated by the poets of his time. His last act was the institution of a foundation for the support of 300 orphan children, to be selected from all the chief cities in Ireland.* DONCHAD O'BRIEN. A. D. 1064. With Malachy the civil history and biography of his period, might legitimately be terminated. We shall, nevertheless, more fully com- plete this portion of our task, by following the family of O'Brien along the brief remainder of its course. The day after the battle, Donchad, who it will be remembered had been detached on a predatory expedition, returned laden with spoil to Kilmainham. He was here met by a demand of hostages from Cian, who asserted his claim to the throne of Munster, by the right of alter- nate succession, recognised among the branches of the Eugenian and Dalcassian families. This Donchad refused to admit — usurpation founded on the right of arms had gained the splendid sanction of his father's reign. The contention was, however, appeased by Cian's cousin and colleague in command, who perhaps, seeing the Inutility of pressing his claim, contrived to withdraw him from the camp. Don- chad marched his enfeebled army towards Munster. Reaching Ossory, he was met by its prince, Macgilla Patrick, who refused to allow him to proceed through his territory, unless on the condition of submission to his sovereignty : at the same time insolently menacing the alterna- tive of a battle. To this menace — which under the circumstances was base and cowardly — the brave son of Bryan replied, by selecting the more honourable but most dangerous alternative. " Never was it yet said, within the memory of man, that a prince of the race of Bryan, had given hostages to a Macgilla Patrick." He now prepared for a battle which has been consecrated to poetry, by the affecting heroism of which it was the occasion.^ Donchad, like a humane leader, was about to make an arrangement for the safety of the numerous men who had been wounded at Clontarf — by allotting the duty of protecting them toa select band of his bravest men. The wounded soldiers would not consent to be protected at the expense of so dangerous a sacrifice of strength. '• Lot * Moore ii. 140. "f Few of our readers will fail to recollect Mr Moore's spirited stanza : ■' Foraret not our wounded compHnions who stood In the day of distress by our side ; While the moss of the valley grew red with their blood, They stirred not, but conquered and died ! The sun, that now blesses our arms with his light. Saw them fall upon Ossory 's plain ! Oh ! let him not blush, when he leaves us to-night, To find that they fell there in vain !" Iriy}) Melodies DONCHAD O'BRIEN. 175 there be stakes fixed in the ground," was their spirited and noble reply, "and to each of these let one of us be firmly tied, holding our swords in our hands." The strange expedient was adopted. The effect was just such as the reader will be likely to anticipate upon brave men, who could feel the situation in its full force. Surprise, compassion, and involuntary awe, arrested the ranks of Ossory, as they approached this mingled front, and marked the calm and stern aspect, which bespoke the determined resistance of those who were prepared to die. The chief of Ossory had the sagacity to perceive an impression which might damp the power of his onset — and to respect the calm despera- tion which would make the most dangerous resistance : and drawing off his army suffered the troops of Donchad to continue on their march. Donchad's life offers little more worth gleaning by the biographer. Sharing with his brother Teige the throne of Munster, he was ere long involved in a contest with him. A desperate and destructive battle was followed by a reconciliation of doubtful sincerity and short continuance. It was soon interrupted by some new broil — and Don- chad contrived to have his brother murdered, by which he secured the entire sovereignty of Munster to himself: and reigned for several years in considerable prosperity. His crime, however, was ripening for punishment. Tirlogh, the son of the murdered prince, at length contrived to raise a force against him. After a struggle, which lasted some years, and was marked by repeated defeats and humiliations, Donchad O'Brien surrendered the Munster throne to Tirlogh, and retired to Rome ; where, having en- tered into the monastery of St Stephen, he died in 1064. There is a tradition, scarcely deserving of credit, that he brought the crown of Ireland to Rome, and, according to a custom not very unusual in that age of ignorant superstition, laid it at the pope's feet. Mr Moore repels the assertion on three grounds, viz., there not being in our annals any mention of the act, and this we think enough to discredit it: as for the grounds that Donchad had not the ci'own of Ireland in his possession, there can be no assurance of the matter — if there was a crown, it had been in the possession, and may have remained among the treasures of his father. But the last objection has an interest in- dependent of its decisive weight, if admitted. Mr Moore remarks, that antiquaries have doubted the existence of any sort of crown among the ancient Irish kings. " It is said by Hector Boetius, that the kings of Scotland, from the time of Fergus their first king to the reign of Achaius, who died in 819, wore a plain crown of gold in the form of a military palisade. It is no improbable conjecture that they imitated their ancestors, the Irish kings, Fergus being of that race. This con- jecture receives some strength from a golden crown, which, in the year 1692, was dug out of a bog on the top of a hill, called Barnanely, or the Devil's Bit, in the county of Tipperary, which is supposed to have been a crown belonging to some provincial king. It weighed about five ounces. The border and the head were raised in chasework, and seems to bear a resemblance to the close crown of the Eastern em- pire, which was composed of the helmet and diadem. It is not unrea- sonable to suspect that this crown is of great antiquity, and that it belonged to some Irish king, who reigned before the planting of Christianity in Ireland; because it is destitute of any ornament of the cross, which was the usual ensign of Christian princes, at least from the time of Constantine the great. It fell into the hands of one Mr Comerford, who carried it into France, where it is supposed to remain among his descendants. The royal ornament for the head, both of the provincial kings and queens and of the supreme monarch of Ireland, was anciently called asion, pronounced in one syllable asn, and was of gold; perhaps it was so called from the word assain, which signifies plates, as being composed of several foldings or ribs of that metal. It was afterwards applied in a religious sense to signify the reliques of the saints ; and in process of time the word asion and coroin, a crown, came to be promiscuously used one for the other. It is related in the Irish histories, that eight years before the birth of Christ, Fergusius Rogius the deposed king of Ulster, and Maud queen of Connaught, marched an army into Cuailgne, a territory so called in the county of Louth, and from thence di'ove an immense booty of cattle ; which action has been ever since remarked under the name of Tain-bo Cuailgne, i. e. the herd or drove of cattle of Cuailgne. The queen is said, in this ex- pedition, to have marched in an open chariot, surrounded by four other chariots, so disposed as to keep the bands of horsemen at a distance from her, ' that the dust and foam of the horses should not stain the golden asion with which her head was encircled,' A. D. 174. The queen of Cathoir-Mor, king of Ireland, had her golden asion stolen from her at the convention of Tarah ; but Hugh Ward, an antiquary of great re- putation, tells us, ' that all the kings of Ireland in battle, and other public solemnities, appeared crowned with a diadem. In the me- morable battle of Clontarf, Brien Boroimhe, monarch of Ireland, fell by the hands of the Danes, being discovered by the royal crown on his head. Some writers affirm, that many of the family of the O'Briens were, with great solemnity, created kings of Ireland, and crowned with a golden crown. And in particular, we read in the Irish histories that" Donat O'Brien, son to the said Brien Boroimhe, in the year 1065, undertook a pilgrimage to Rome, and carried with him the royal crown of his ancestors. What Cassaneus says may add some weight to these instances, where he gives, for the ancient arms of the kings of Ireland, a king holding a golden lili/, and sitting in majesty in a black field. For what can be understood by a king sitting in majesty, but sitting on his royal throne, and adorned with his crown and other ensigns of majesty?"* Similar crowns, have been found in other parts of Ireland, of somewhat greater weight, but none of them have been preserved.! To ourselves, there seems to be much internal evidence, in the ancient Irish history, for the existence of the crown. A race conspicuous for the love of all that belongs to external state — early possessed of golden ornaments — of the half refinement that would omit no circumstance of royal exterior, and having knowledge enough to be aware that the crown was one of the principal : we should consider it the height of absurdity to imagine (unless the crown were proved * Ware's Antiquities. t This crown is al^o descrik-d in the Pretace to Koatins^'s History, DERMOD MACMURRAGH. 177 to have had no existence till a later period, which will not be assorted), that the stately barbarians who called themselves kings — spoke bog Latin, exacted iiomage, hostages and tribute, ffom whole provinces, and loaded altars with costly offerings — wore no crowns — sat on no thrones — wielded no sceptres, and did not play at kings to the utmost extent they had the power or means. Such questions do not exclusively rest on the evidence of remains, — we must also admit the common evidence of nature's laws in the human breast. THE CONQUEST. DERMOD MACMURRAGH, KING OF LEINSTER. A. D. 11.50. Dermob Macmukkagh is generally represented in an odious light, by the historians of this period. His father had the reputation of a cruel and barbarous tyrant; he is said to have seized on seventeen of his chief nobility, some of whom he murdered, and the rest he deprived of sight. The son inherited his father's cruelty, and proba- bly improved this inheritance by vices of his own. His chieftains were oppressed by his robberies and civil invasions of their rights and personal immunities. The church, however, was conciliated by his politic liberality ; and the lower classes, who were, as is ever found, the indiscriminating instruments of the wrong-doer, were the grateful de- pendants of his protection and bounty, and the admirers of his personal qualifications. These were such as ever secure the admiration of the ignorant : stature, strength, and personal bravery ; and a rude, gross, and violent dej)ortment. He was noted for the hoarseness acquired by a habit of constant vociferation ; from which we may infer that the repulsiveness of his character was heightened by frequent irritability, and furious excesses of passion on slight occasions. Many of these personal defects are probably concealed by the partial hand of his friendly biographer, Maurice O'Regan, from whom our most trust- worthy authority is derived. Such a character had nevertheless attraction for the lady Devorgoil, daughter of the prince of Meath, and wife of O'Ruark, the prince of Brefni {Leinster,) who was neither deterred by the coarseness of his person and manner, the vices of his character, or by his cruelty against her injured husband. Between Dermod and the prince of Brefni, a keen and bitter animosity had long subsisted. It was perhaps aggra- I. M Ir. 178 THE CONQUEST. vated by vindictive passion on one side, and jealousy on the other; for it is said that before her marriage with O'Ruark, a passion between Dermod and herself had been mutually felt and communicated. The eager contention for power was at all events sufficient occasion for the fierce hostility of the base Dermod. A truce between the two leading potentates of the north and west, O'Connor and O'Lochlin, happened at this time : one of its consequences, traced to the instigation of Dermod, was the expulsion of O'Ruark from his territoi'y, The enterprise was undertaken by Dermod, in league with Tirlogh O'Connor. Resistance was of little avail: the unfortunate prince of Brefni was ejected. But the immediate con- sequence with which our narrative is concerned, was the injury to which so much importance in the history of Ireland has been given, in tale and song ; the abduction of the fair DevorgoiL For this shame- ful purpose Dermod took advantage of the extremity of his enemy's misfortunes, and inflicted upon him one which may be generally felt to be a greater misery than all. Something, however, will be sub- tracted from the amount of the reader's pity, in consideration of the unworthy participation of the princess. In the anxiety of ambitious contrivances, and the hurry of armed aggression, a message from the lady reminded the licentious king of Leinster, that softer interests were to be pursued, and that however willing, the fame of the object of his guilty love was to be consulted by the appearance of violence. Hanmer, under tlie veil of some Latin sentences, gives a disgusting pipture of the character of Devorgoil, and one not less gross of the rude and indecent contentions between herself and her husband. He concludes his account of this transaction by saying, that " O'Rorie (O'Ruark), being in pursuit of thieves and kernes that had mightily annoyed his people in the farthest part of his country — she, with all celerity, supposing it a fit time, sent for her lover, Dermot. The message was no sooner delivered, but he was a-horseback, posting to the harlot. To be short, he took her away with him; at which time (O false heart!) she struggled, she cried, as though she were vmwill- ing." This incident had place in 1 153, thirteen years before the great events with which, by the industrious romance of poets and chroni- clers, it lias been so often forcibly connected. The error has been universally noticed by the most intelligent historians of modern date, from the clear and authentic Leland to Mr Moore, who, having faith- fully discharged the devoir of the poet, in his song, too well known for quotation here* — has, in his Irish Histoy^y, no less honourably performed the opposite office of a veracious historian in exposing the figment of the poet. The outrage soon brought down vengeance on the guilty Dermod. The prince of Brefni, enraged at the insult, though perhaps regardless of the lady, carried his complaint to Tirlogh O'Connor; and backed his application with representations still more likely to be persuasive. The crime of Dermod might, according to the loose notions and un- settled principles of a barbarous state of society, be looked on with * Every reader will at once recollect Mr Moore's singuhirly beautiful and affect- ing version of this incident among his melodies. DEEMOD MACJIURRAGH, 179 indulgence, in the friendly shelter of which every chief might feel an individual interest. But Tirlogh was, by the suppliant chief of Brefni, induced to look on Dermod as treacherous to his paramount authority, and devoted to the service of his rival Lochlin, For himself, O'Ruark promised inviolable attachment. The position of O'Connor made such an accession to his friends desirable. He was in possession of the monarchy; but his claim was disputed by O Locblm, the heir of the northern Hy-Niall house, to whom he had been compelled to make large concessions ; so that, in point of fact, the kingdom, and the kingly power, were divided between these two rival princes. Under such circumstances, perpetual jealousy and frequent collision were necessary results; and each party must have maintained a constant vigilance, both to prevent surprises, and seize upon such advantages as might offer. By such a powerful com- bination of motives, O'Connor allowed himself to be won to the redress of the injured O'Ruark. He collected a formidable army and entered the territories of the king of Leinster; who, being ill-supported by his lukewarm and disapproving chiefs, was little capable of resistance. The faithless and abandoned Devorgilla, torn from her guilty paramour, was restored to her husband's house ; where she remained for the rest of her days in peace, and preserved a blameless life. It may be infer- red, from the laxity of the age, that she was reinstated in the little of domestic regard or honour, to which her character had ever any claim; and it is said, that she manifested a remorseful sense of her crimes, by the " usual method of magnificent donations to the church." Some popular writers have attached to this incident an importance to which it has no claim; following the authority of Giraldus, they have traced the invasion of Ireland by the Normans, to the infidelity of this " degenerate daughter of Erin,"* and thus corrupted history with a legend more adapted to the purpose to which Mr Moore has so admirably applied it, than sanctioned by truth. The incident here related took place in 1154; while the flight of Dermod into England was at least fourteen years later, in 1 1 68. In this long interval manj violent changes of fortune occurred to the rival chiefs and the rival princes, by whom they were alternately depressed and raised ; and the subsequent facts of his history, will sufficiently account for Dermod's eventful action. Tirlogh's protection cemented a firm alliance between him and O'Ruark, of which the consequences were severely felt by Dermod. His chiefs were in a condition of perpetual discontent ; their passions were tampered with, and dexterously fermented into a state bordering upon rebellion against his authority. Of this his enemies availed themselves. For two years he was thus harassed with incessant anxiety and ex- ertion; after which he was to have his turn of triumph and revenge for a season. In 1156, the death of Tirlogh O'Connor made way for his rival to the monarchy of Ireland. Dermod was on terms of the strictest amity with O'Lochlin, and was the foremost to assert his right and acknowledge his authority. His zeal was recompensed by * Moore's Irish Molodics. 180 THE CONQUEST. an exertion of his royal ally, which, for a time established his peace- ful sway. O'Lochlin's first act was to march an army to his assist- ance, and secure his authority in Leinster. His revenge was now provided for. During the reign of O'Lochlin, the prince of Leitrim was allowed no rest from aggressions and insults, to which his means of resistance were quite unequal. For about ten years things remained thus; but, in the year 1167> the hour of retribution came. O Lochlin, in defiance of all principles of humanity and justice, seized on the prince of Uladh, with whom he had just concluded a treaty, and, with the most barbarous cruelty, de- prived him of sight. The surrounding chiefs, shocked at the perfi- dious outrage, and feeling themselves involved in the insult to their associate, rushed into a confederacy to revenge him. The battle of Litterluin soon followed. O'Lochlin fell, and with him the preten- sions of his family; the scale of the house of O'Connor again prepon- derated, and Roderic ascended the throne of his father, Tirlogh. He also inlierited his friendships; and OTluarc once more found himself in a condition to bid defiance to his inveterate and mortal foe. Roderic was a practical warrior. His life had been spent in the field, and he came to the throne of Ireland with considerable reputa- tion. He lost no time in securing his fortunes. He quickly raised a strong force, with which he marched to Dublin. There he was solemnly inaugurated, and increased his forces by retaining in his pay the Ostmen of Dublin. With these he marched into the North, and awed its chieftains into tranquil submission. Dermod was paralyzed with terror; there was no refuge from the black storm which hung lowering over his guilty head. His aggres- sions had grown beyond the forgiveness of man, and his provincial power was as a grain of dust in the scale of resistance. In the frenzy of despair, he set fire to his royal seat and town of Ferns, that his enemies might not obtain his spoils. His utmost apprehensions were not beyond the real danger. Roderic, returning from the north, and accompanied by the hostile lord of Leitrim, poured his troops over Leinster. Dermod's chiefs propitiated the invader by submission; and, without the satisfaction of striking a blow for himself, Dermod was formally deposed on the dishonourable ground of utter unworthi- ness to reign. One of his family was raised to his throne, and gave sureties of allegiance to the paramount authority of Roderic. Dermod was not wanting to himself in this humiliating crisis of his affairs. He applied to former friends, and sought alliances by pro- mises and flattery ; but mortification and insult encountered him wher- ever he went. His chiefs had, in the first instance, universally deserted him. The lord of Dublin and the lord of Ossory joined his enemies. In this strait he retired to the abbey of Ferns, from whence he sent a monk bearing a letter to Morrogh O'Brian, the lord of Wicklow, in order to persuade him to a conference. In his impatience he followed his messenger; and, meeting his alienated tributary in the open air, by a wood side, was received by him with a scornful disavowal of his authority, and a peremptory command to depart. Thus universally repulsed, and maddened with anger and despair, in the extremity of his distress Dermod formed a new and desperate DERMOD MACMURRAGH. 181 resolution. It occurred to his infuriated mind, that there was still a dreadful path open to revenge and redress. He sailed to Bristol, then the ordinary point of communication between the two countries, " having in his company no other man of marke than Awliffe O'Ki- nade, and about sixty persons." When he arrived at Bristol, he lodged for a time in the house of Robert Harding, at St Augustin's ; and, in a few days, travelled to France to bring his complaint before Henry. Henry was at this time, 1168, resident in the province of Acqui- taine. Thither Dermod proceeded. " He appeared before the king in a most shabby habit, suited to the wretched condition of an exile. He fell at his majesty's feet, and emphatically bewailed his own miseries and misfortunes. He represented the malice of his neigh- bours and the treachery of his pretended friends ; he suggested that kings were then most like gods, when they exercised themselves in succouring the distressed," &c. ;* and was received by the king with the kindness and pity, which his story of wrongs seemed to call for. It is generally agreed, that this politic prince must have been pleased with an incident which, judiciously used, was most likely to promote his own long-cherished designs on Ireland. His hands were, how- ever, otherwise engaged at the time. His French nobles, secretly en- couraged by the French king, were nearly in a state of insurrection ; and he was, at the same time, involved in a harassing and perilous contest with his clergy. Still resolving to avail himself, as well as he might, of the occasion, he adopted a most wary and dexterous course. He accepted the proifered allegiance of Dermod, and gave him a letter of credence to his English subjects, announcing that he had taken Dermod under his protection and favour; and granting license to whoever of his English subjects might be disposed to aid him in the recovery of his dominions. The advantages of this course are obvi- ous, but they will appear in the progress of events. Dermod returned to England elated by his success. Again he found his way to Bristol, where he had already secured friends, and was also likely to receive the surest intelligence of affairs in Ireland. There arrived, he lost no time in publishing Henry's letter, and urging his grievances, with the more substantial recommendation of promised ad- vantages and possessions to those who should be induced to embark in his cause. It is however thought that by this time, circumstances of his true history had reached Bristol, and much abated the general im- pression in his favour, which had been the effect of his previous repre- sentations. He found every one whom he addressed cold to his urgent representations : and after continuing for a month engaged in unavail- ing exertion to awaken an effective sensation in his behalf, he became weary of delay ; and thinking his cause forgotten by king Henry, he resolved to change his course, and endeavour to engage the self-in- terested feelings of powerful individuals. Such he found in Richard, earl of Chepstow, commonly known by the appellation of Strongbow. To him, he now repaired with the offer of his daughter's hand and the succession to his kingdom of Leinster, if by his exertions his power might be restored. * Cox, 182 THE CONQUEST. The proposal was embarrassing to the earl. The offer was tempting to his ambition — but he felt the doubtful and politic character of Henry's conduct: he was perplexed by scrupulous objections, and wa- vered for a considerable time. The letter of the king seemed scarcely to warrant the magnitude of the request — that a subject of the English crown should levy an army against a neighbouring country. Mean- while, Dermod reiterated his offers, and with plausible amplification set them in the most attractive prominence before the thoughts of the ambitious earl. Strongbow suffered himself to be prevailed on — and entered into a contract to land in Ireland in the ensuing spring, with a large force, provided he might obtain special permission for this pur- pose from king Henry. Dermod now conceived his purpose secm'ed. To retiu"n to Ireland with the greater secrecy, he betook himself to St David's in South Wales. Here, as in Bristol, he found a friend in the church. He was received by the bishop with that ready hospitality and commiseration which his munificence had earned from the ecclesiastical orders. Here he gained two important allies in the persons of Robert Fitz- Stephen, and his half-brother Maurice Fitz-Gerald. Fitz-Stephen had before this been inveigled into a rebellious plot by a Welsh chief; but, on deliberation, becoming fully aware of the crimi- nality of the undertaking, he showed so much reluctance, that the re- volting chief. Rice Fitz-Griffith, had him confined to prison, where at this period he had lain for three years. He now represented to Fitz- Griffith, that the present opportunity was one which might enable him to pursue his own interests without opposing his designs. His en- treaties for liberation were seconded by the bishop and Maurice Fitz- Gerald. Fitz-Griffith yielded, and a covenant was made between Der- mod and the brothers, by which they were to land with all their followers in Ireland, for the furtherance of his claims, and in return to receive from him the town of Wexford with a large adjoining tract of land. "Such," says Leland, "was the original scheme of an invasion, which in the event proved of so much importance. An odious fugitive, driven from his province by faction and revenge, gains a few adventurers in Whales, whom youthful valour or distress of fortune led into Ireland in hopes of some advantageous settlements. Dermod who, no doubt, encouraged his new allies by the assurance of a powerful reinforce- ment of his countrymen, was obliged to affect impatience to depart and to provide for their reception. He paid his vows in the church of St David, embarked, landed in Ireland, passed without discovery through the quarters of his enemies, arrived at Ferns, and was enter- tained and concealed in the monastery which he himself had erected: waiting impatiently for the return of spring, when the English powers were to come to his assistance."* Of this expectation, the report was industriously spread; and while it animated the flagging zeal of his friends and adherents, it made concealment, yet so necessary to his safety, impossible. The crowds who flocked to receive, from their old master, the most authentic confirmation of the news, had the dangerous effect ♦Lehmd, i. 21. DERMOD MACMURRAGH. 183 of attracting general attention. Unable to maintain the secrecy so much to be desired, the assumption of an attitude of defiance, or at least of confidence, seemed to be the safer alternative. There was, at least, a probability that nothing very decisive could be effected by his enemies, before the arrival of the English. Under this impression, and feeling the urgency of his friends, as well as yielding to his own im- pulse, he assumed an attitude of defiance, and took possession of a por- tion of his own territories. His enemies were too alert to allow much advantage to be di-awii from this rash effort. They had been surprised by his unexpected re-appearance in the field, and were alarmed by the report of a foreign invasion. Roderic collected a force, and, with his trusty friend O'Ruark, entered the territory which had thus been seized by Dermod. The event was quickly decided. Dermod, terror-struck at the approach of his inveterate enemies, and having no adequate means of resistance, fled before their appearance, and with his little force concealed himself in the woods. Here he received encouragement from the strength of a position favourable to the action of a small party; and summoning resolution to maintain a front of opposition, he engaged in repeated skirmishes with detached parties of the enemy, in which the advantage seemed doubtful, and valuable lives were lost on both sides. This game could not, however, be long protracted against a superior power — and Dermod, with the facility of one to whom solemn eng-agements were as idle wind, proposed to tredt, offered abject submission, but im- plored, in pity to fallen royalty, to be allowed to hold ten cantreds of his province, in absolute dependence on king Roderic. To give the most perfect appearance of good faith to the proposal, he offered seven hostages to the monarch, and a hundred ounces of gold to O'Ruark, for oblivion of past wrongs. His submission was accepted, on the terms which he proposed. Roderic, hurried by the pressure of his affairs in other quarters, willingly released himself from the interrup- tion of an affair seemingly so little important, and withdrew his forces and attention from the wily traitor, on whose conduct so much depended. Dermod, now released from the fear of his enemies, and freshly en- raged by his new humiliation, may well be supposed to have indulged the anticipations of coming vengeance on the objects of his hate and fear. But he could not also repress his eager impatience at the delay of his English allies, nor avoid recollecting the caution and prudence — the waverings and coldness of manner, which had so often reduced him to despair of succour from his English acquaintance. Abandoned to suspense, he became uncontrollably impatient ; and at last despatched Maurice Regan, a confidential friend and dependant, in the quality of ambassador, to hasten the coming of his allies, and if possible to in- crease them, by active solicitations and liberal promises. The English knights were already advanced in their preparations. Robert Fitz-Stephen had collected his force : thirty knights, sixty men in armour, and 300 archers, chosen men, and, considering the nature of the service, in themselves a formidable power, embarked early in May, 1 169,* and came to a creek called the Bann, near Wexford city. * Leliind makes it 1 170 — we follow Ware. 184 THE CONQUEST. With these also came unattended, Hervey de Montmorres, as an emissary from his uncle earl Strongbow, — the object of his coming was to inspect the circumstances of the country, and estimate the prospects of success, for the information of the earl. This party sent notice of their arrival to the king of Leinster, and encamped for that night on the shore. The next morning, they were reinforced by Maurice Pren- dergast, a brave Welshman, who, with ten knights and 200 archers, arrived on the same landing-place. Dermod received the summons with loud delight, and lost not an instant in hastening to meet them. The next evening he encamped with them at the sea-side, and the following day they marched to Wex- ford, a distance of twelve miles. On their way, they were joined by Dermod's illegitimate son, Donald Kavanagh, with 500 Irishmen. On their arrival at the suburbs of the city, they were encountered by a party of " about 2000 of the inhabitants." The inhabitants of W"ex- ford were descendants of the united races of Danes and Irish, but chiefly perhaps of Danish blood. These brave men, in their first im- pulse, had little calculated the terrific odds which they should have to encounter in the small but highly-trained band, which now menaced their city and native land. The glittering mail and marshalled array of Norman valour and discipline must have presented a spectacle of imposing novelty to their unaccustomed eyes. Their shrewdness was not slow to draw correct inferences from the splendid but portentous array which stood before their walls in the stern repose of military dis- cipline and valour — and having for a moment wavered, they changed their resolution, and, setting fire to the suburbs, they retired hastily within their walls. Fitz-Stephen lost no time in pressing the advantage of their panic, and led up his force to the assault. The garrison re- covered from their momentary panic, and made a defence worthy of a more fortunate result. The enemy was for a moment repulsed with the loss of eighteen men. This loss enraged the high-spirited Eng- lish, and surprised their Irish allies. Fitz-Stephen was, however, re- solved to leave no refuge for retreat: before he renewed the assault, he led his party to the shore, and set fire to the transports in which they had arrived two days before. The next morning, having ordered divine service in the camp, after it was performed with due solemnity, he drew up his force with doubled circumspection and care. His little pai'ty was wrought into a high impatience of their recent disgrace, and each man resolved to conquer or die in his rank. To this result, however, matters were not allowed to come. The English, though resolved, had received from failure a lesson of caution ; and the besieged were little encouraged by a success which was no- thing more than an escape from a stronger foe. They had hitherto been accustomed to see battles decided by the effect of a single onset, and were less daunted by the prowess which their new enemies had shown the day before, than by the stern composure with which they now took their position before the walls. — like men more determined on the event. There was in consequence much hesitation, and a di- vided feeling within the walls ; and while many urged steps of resistance, others, more wise or timid, proposed overtures of peace. Among these latter the clergy, friendly to the cause of Dermod, and taught to ex- DERMOD MACMURRAGH. 185 pect, from the success of the English, many advantages and immunities, were more particularly on the alert. The result was a flag of truce to the besiegers, who received and accepted from the city an offer of surrender, with a return to its allegiance to king Dermod. These proposals seemed reasonable to all. The jealousy and vindictive ani- mosity of Dermod himself remained unappeased, and three days passed in superfluous negotiation. By the influence, however, both of his English allies and the clergy, all was smoothed; and Dermod, to show his faithfulness and honour to the English, without delay fulfilled his promises to Fitz-Stephen and Fitz-Gerald, by granting them the lordship of the city, with two cantreds of adjoining territory. And to oblige earl Richard, he bestowed on Hervey de Montmorres two cantreds lying between Wexford and Waterford. These three English knights were therefore the first of the British settlers in Ireland.* From Wexford king Dei'mod led his allies to his town of Ferns, where the soldiers were rested, and the knights feasted for three weeks. There was, meanwhile, a full concourse of his repentant subjects com- ing in to the king from every quarter of the province. The capture of Wexford, and the presence of the English, diffused a general sense of the inutility and danger of further disaffection from the royal cause, and, with few exceptions, restored the province to its allegiance. Der- mod was thus enabled to add considerably to his force, and to maintain, in the presence of his English friends, an appearance of authority and power more in accordance with his pride and royal pretensions. The utmost allowance having been now made for rest and preparation, some fui'ther advance was to be made ; and in this Dermod was de- cided as much by personal enmity as by policy. Donald Magilla Patrick, the prince of Ossory, had not only revolted to his enemy, the king of Connaught, but having obtained possession of the person of his only legitimate son, either as a hostage or a visitor, on some jealous pretence had him seized and ordered his eyes to be torn out — under the operation of which cruel order the young prince had expired. Dermod's implacable resentment was now consulted by an immediate advance into the district of Ossory. The terror of the English arms had travelled before them, and the report of their approach spread consternation through Ossory. To this emergency Prince Donald show- ed himself not unequal ; promptly collecting his best forces, he reso- lutely prepared for the formidable invader. Having marched to the frontier of his province at the head of five thousand men, he took up a strong and seemingly impregnable position among the defiles of the woods and the natui-al entrenchment of a vast and intricate morass; and there disposing his forces to the utmost advantage, undauntedly awaited the enemy. The enemy was soon at hand, and but imper- fectly aware of the real dangers they had to encounter. Their onset * On this event Mr Moore observes, "This tract of country is now comprised in the baronies ot Forth and Bargie, and it is not a little remarkable, that the descend- ants of its first settlers remained, for ages, a community distinct, in language and manners, from the natives. Even to a recent period, a dialect has continued in use among them, peculiar to these baronies, and which, judging from the written specimens that remain of it, bore a dose affinity to the Anglo-Saxon." — Hist, ii. 216. was violent, and, on firm ground, would have borne down all thought of resistance. But the Ossorians, secure in their quagmires against the floundering charges of their antagonists, sustained their violence with surprising firmness. The circumstance, however, threw these brave men off" their guard; in the heat of the fray, and triumphing in successful resistance, they overlooked the secret of their strength, and suffered their native ardour to impel them rashly forward to the firm and equal plain, whither the more trained and deliberate tactics of the Anglo- Norman foe retreated for the purpose of leading them into this fatal error. With a steady precision, only to be attained by the most per- fect discipline, the English turned in their seeming flight, and charged with resistless power on the triumphing and tumultuary Ossorians, who were scattered with dreadful slaughter back, until they once more reached the security of their marshy fortifications. Here they were secure; and the English, in their turn, carried forward in the con- fusion of pursuit, insensibly involved themselves among the marshy defiles, where it was impossible for heavy cavalry to act or even move without imminent danger. Dermod, more experienced in the locali- ties, or probably informed by the natives of his own party, quickly apprised his allies of their danger. The Ossorians soon became aware of the same circumstance; and, thinking the invader within their power, began to re-assemble with a courage that was perceived by their countrymen in the opposite ranks. These also were now alarmed by the motions of their English allies, which, in their igno- rance of disciplined warfare, they attributed to fear. Under this misapprehension, they now separated themselves from a body who, they said, could run like the wind ; and Dermod, seeing their move- ment, was led to fear that the Wexford men were about to change sides and go over to the Ossorians. In the meantime, the English knights calmly took the necessary steps to repair the error of their position. Repeating their former evolution, they assumed the appear- ance of a confused and hurried retreat ; which, again exciting the ardour of the Ossorians, they were still more tumultuously pursued. Placing a small ambush behind a grove by which they passed, they gained the firm fields ; and, securing sufficient room for their purpose, a second time they wheeled short upon their unwary pursuers, who were instantly turned into a confused flight, — and, being intercepted by the ambush that had been placed between them and the morass, sustained a severe slaughter. In this the troops of Dermod joined; and the men of Wexford, decided by the fortune of the day, were not slow in lending the assistance which they would as readily have lent to the Ossorians, had the victory been on their side. A rapid flight soon terminated the slaughter, but not before three hundred of the men of Ossory were slain, whose heads were collected and brought by his soldiers as a grateful offering to the animosity of king Der- mod. Dermod, in whose mind vindictive passions seem to have been more strong than policy or ambition, received them with a transport which, in the description of Cambrensis, suggests the image of a fiend rather than a man. Passionately clasping his hands, he dared to thank heaven for the grateful sight; and, deliberately examining the bleeding heads, and turning them over one by one, revelled in the DERMOD MACMURRAGH. 187 gratification of demoniac vengeance. At length the savage, discover- ing in the bleeding heap the features of a well known face, with a frenzied eagerness drew it forth ; and, to the disgust and consterna- tion of the surrounding circle of Irish, fastened his teeth on the un- conscious and ghastly visage of his Ossorian foe. This shocking story is omitted in the summary narrative of his servant, Regan. The different historians, who repeat it from Cambrensis, manifest more or less disinclination to receive it without qualification. None, however, reject it; and, we must confess that, considering it to be too obviously in hai'mony with the whole of Dermod's character, we have suppressed our strong dislike to repeat a tale so revolting to every sense of humanity. The English leaders proposed to retain possession of the field, and to follow up the victory they had obtained, by the complete reduction of Donald's power in Ossory. Without this, the victory was but a useless waste of life, and they were also liable to be harassed in their return by pursuit. Such was the obvious suggestion of policy and prudence. But to king Dermod policy and prudence were but secondary ; and he bad supped full on the horrors of revenge. He had defeated and tri- umphed, burnt, despoiled, and wasted; and was now desirous of an interval of rest, and the secure triumph and feasting of his kingly seat at Ferns. Thither, in spite of remonstrance, he led back his force ; and there he was, as he must have expected, attended by a fresh con- course of submissive vassals, who congratulated him on his returning prosperity, and renewed the faith for which it was his only security. From Ferns he made several incursions against such of the lesser chiefs as still held out. But the prince of Ossory, having nothing to expect from submission to one whose hostility was personal, and, per- haps collecting " resolution from despair,"' was, in the meantime, pre- paring for a more desperate effort of resistance. Having entered more fully into the detail of the first engagement with the army of Donald, it may be felt the less necessary to dwell on the particulars of the next. Donald fortified himself with a strong entrenchment and palisade of wooden stakes upon the path of his enemy. On this the valour and resources of the native forces of Dermod were, for three days, allowed to exhaust themselves in vain assaults; the English, waiting for a fair occasion, ended the tumultuary conflict by one deci- sive charge, which carried the entrenchment and won the day. Der- mod's mind, submissive and fawning in adversity, was now, with char- acteristic consistency, rendered overbearing and insolent by success. He began to feel himself a king, and the dispenser of slight and favour among those who followed his standard; and, though a sense of prudence repressed his oA'erbeariug temper, where he knew its in- dulgence must be unsafe, yet he could not so far repress his insolence as to avoid giving frequent offence to persons who probably saw through and despised the baseness of his character. Those whose services he had retained by strong pledges of interest, might be ex- pected to smile in secret scorn at the slight or flattery, which they valued alike at their proper worth. Maurice de Prendergast, how- ever, bound by no compact and recompensed by no stipulated reward, now began to feel that his service was treated with neglect, and that his repeated solicitations and remonstrances were met by an insolent attempt to undervalue his alliance : his patience was at h-st wearied, and he showed some disposition to abandon one who thus repaid his services with slight. The Wexford men, strongly disaffected to Der- mod, saw and encouraged this inclination, which they strengthened by their artful representations, and easily converted into a resolution to join the prince of Ossory. This incident revived the courage of Donald^ and made him deter- mine on assuming the offensive, and attempting an incursion into the territories of king Dermod. Prendergast, more sensible of the in- adequacy of any force he could command for such a purpose, dissuaded him from the vain effort. This was the more necessary, as a fresh arrival from England had now repaired the loss occasioned by his defection. Prendergast soon discovered the error of the step he had taken. He received information that there was a secret design, the intent of which was first to secm-e his service, and then repay it by taking the lives of himself and his small party,* and he resolved to retire to Wales. Donald remonstrated to no purpose, and then determined to have re- course to violence. " The men of Ossory," writes Regan, " persever- ing in their malicious treason against Prendergast, assembled two thousand men together, plashed a place through which he was to pass ; whereof, by good fortune, Maurice having intelligence, acquainted his companie with the danger. After matm-e deliberacione, it was re- solved, that no knowledge shuld be takin of the intended treason, and to make stay in Kilkenny for a few days, and in the meanwhile to send messengers to Donald's seneschall, to lett hym knowe, that they were contented to serve the kyng of Ossory, if it pleased hym, half a year, or a quarter longer, which offer Donald gladlie accepted. The Os- sorians, hearinge that Maurice had made a new agreement with the kyng, abandoned the place where they lodged. Maurice hearinge that they wer dislodged, about midnight rose out of Kilkenny, and continued upon a swift march until he came to Waterford, where they founds mean to imbarque themselves for Wales, but not without some difficultie, for one of the English had slain a cittizen whyche eni'aged the people, but Maurice Prendergast by his wisdome appeased the tumult."! The first landing of the English, and the events which immediately followed, were not so far different from the ordinary feuds and pro- vincial wars of a country, which seems to have been the home of per- petual discord, as to be at first very clearly traceable to their results. But Roderic, Avho from the beginning felt his private interests menaced by the success of his known enemy, the king of Leinster, now began to perceive that his monarchy was likely to be endangered by the course of events. This he was not left to infer. Dermod, in the highflown insolence of conscious power, now avowed his pretensions to the king- * The character of Donald is not implicated in this design. Maurice Kegan, from whose fragment this memoir is drawn, adds, " but Donald would by no means as- sent to that." t Regan. dom. The honour of Roderic was also pledged to the vhidicatlon of the rights of his faithful partisan, the chief of Ossory. Under these motives, he resolved to make those vigorous efforts which, when im- partially viewed and referred to their real objects and the actual spirit of that age, carry with them all the heroism, though not the romance, of naticmal valour. He summoned his tributaries, and raised his standard at Tara, where he reviewed his assembled forces ; from thence he led them to Dublin. Here, we learn from the ancient annals of the country, he found in this vast national force symptoms of weakness, enough to convince him that there was little or no hope of any proportional result. Many were likely to betray him for the promotiouof their private views — some from envy — some from resent- ment of former wrongs — some from fear of an enemy, of whose deeds they had perhaps received inflated descriptions — every disposition was shown to thwart his measures ; and all the ordinary and easily- distinguished symptoms were perceptible, of that disaffection which, if it find no opening for a traitor's blow, is sure to take the first cross-road to part company. Roderic had long been aware of the fact, that many of the assembled chiefs were in secret the adherents of the rival house of Hy-NIall. Acting on suspicions, the grounds of which could not be mistaken, Roderic dismissed his northern tributaries on the ostensible grounds, that the occasion did not warrant so considerable a force. His own troops, with those of O'Ruark, Thomond, and a few of Der- mod's disaffected tributaries, he retained — a force, numerically taken, far superior to those he should have to meet; yet when the vast pre- ponderance of discipline, arms, and continued success are weighed, far insufficient to give confidence to a mind not under the influence of infatuation. Roderic nevertheless acted with vigour and a steady and deliberate sagacity, which made the most of the circumstances. He saw demon- strations on the part of the enemy, which indicated apprehensions of the event, and he resolved to avail himself of a seeming strength, the weakness of which he too well understood. In the mean time Dermod, easily elated by success, and yielding with equal proneness to dejection, communicated to Fitz-Stephen his unmanly fears. These the steady courage of Fitz-Stephen repelled. He told the feeble chief, that " a brave leader should not only ^how personal valour in the field, but preserve that steady resolution which can brave the extremities of reverse. That true courage, unaft'ected by fortune, was always ready to meet and obviate the most trying perils with composure and the resources of a collected mind. At worst, a glorious death was the last resource of an undaunted spirit." With these and such remonstrances, in which he most justly expressed the character of his own steady and heroic spirit, Fitz-Stephen vainly endeavoured to communicate heroism to the feeble and abject Dermod, who, though personally courageous, was utterly devoid of the spirit which was thus appealed to. It was, therefore, the next essential con- sideration to take the most immediate measures for the defensive course, which, although prompted by timidity, was not without its re- commendatioTi to the cautious prudence which governed all the move- ments of the English. The English retired to Ferns, and entrenched 190 THE CONQUEST. themselves in an inaccessible position among thick impervious wood, and deep morasses. Here they quietly awaited the approach of Roderic. Roderic surmised the advantages, and saw the difficulties which these circumstances appeared to offer. While the strength of the position of the English made assault ridiculous, it yet implied a sense of weakness. There was a seeming opportunity to avert the menaced calamity by wary policy while the risk of war was at best but doubt- ful. He resolved to proceed by remonstrance and persuasion, and communicating with Fitz-Stephen, exposed the injustice of the cause, and the unworthiness of the person to whom he had prostituted English valour. Fitz-Stephen readily penetrated the true policy of these overtures, and concluded that conscious weakness alone would, under the circumstances, have dictated them. He knew the real frailty of the brave monarch's best resources, and could not resolve either to abandon his own fortunes, or be false to his plighted engagements, and he at once rejected the offers and reasoning of Roderic. The con- clusion of his letter is curious for its characteristic and quaint signifi- cance. " To what end is your embassie? If Rotherick give council, we need it not ; if he prophesie, we credit not his oracle ; if he command as a prince, we obey not his authority ; if he threaten as an enemv, a fig for his monarchy." Roderic next appealed to the fears of Dermod, who, now supported by the courage and decision of his brave allies, rejected his overtures with equal resolution. He then prepared for a vigorous effort against the English, which, in the opinion of Leland " might have confounded all their expectations, deterred their countrymen from any like attempts, and prevented the momentous consequences of this apparently insigni- ficant invasion. The future fate of Ireland hung on this critical moment, and it was at once decided, for Roderic listened to the suggestions of his clergy, and rather than hazard an engagement, consented to treat with a prince whose perfidy he had already experienced." Such is the representation of the most impartial and moderate historian that Ireland has yet produced. But it abounds with manifest inconsequences. The " critical moment," though it brings the event, does not as necessarily bring with it the efficient resource. Nor, if it be admitted that Roderic's entering into a compromise on that occasion carried with it fatal con- sequences, can it with equal reason be insisted on, that he had the choice of any other course. So far as his own immediate acts admit of inference, it was his rash design to attempt the forcing of the posi- tion of his enemy ; and there can be no doubt that he would have in this but consulted the dictates of policy and resentment. It did not require a prophetic anticipation of " seven centuries" to come, o)* of vague sensations of national impressions yet unborn, to stimulate a breast affected by far other and far nearer passions. It was the fate of Roderic to stand at the helm when the tempest was too strong for mortal hand; no prudence or courage could have withstood the ad- verse concurrence of circumstances with which he had to contend; and it seems to us surprising, with what flippant facility writers of great general fairness allow their pens to glide unthinkingly into reflec- DERMOD MACMURRAGH. 191 tious, the absui'dity of which is exposed by nearly all the details of the statement to which they are appended. There is no extraordinary difficulty in the correct appreciation of the difficulties of Roderic's situation. The vast inequality of real military force may be omitted — from that at least he never shrunk ; but he had, in fact, no power at his command: his army was a mere pageant, his chiefs were only to be leagued by their private objects, and were, if these required, far more willing to combine against their monarch, than to follow him in a common cause. The common interest was little known — there was no community of feeling-, or if such had existence, it was lost in the eag'er strifes and contentions of provincial politics. Provincial feuds and jealousies — the disaffection of many- — the fears of some — the disunion of all, imperfectly traced in the meagre records of that dark age, appear to the modern historian as dim shadows in the distance of time, which he may notice or not, just as he is inclined to colour actions which have derived their chief importance from after events. It is indeed easy for modern patriotism to play its graceful harle- quinade on the tombs of those who, in that deep, anxious, and fatal conflict (if they will have it fatal), were the anxious and deeply in- terested actors; and who, without being deficient in courage or earnestness in their own concerns, were governed by fatal and uncon- querable influences now imperfectly conceived. The disunion of the chiefs of the country may be truly set down as fatal to the cause of resistance ; but this was their essential characteristic — the idiosyncrasy of the land. Roderic arrayed his forces for the storm ; and he endeavoured to awaken the ardour of his followers by an addi-ess well adapted to rouse their patriotism and courage. He represented the injustice of Dermod's aim, and the crimes of his life. He pointed out the dangers likely to follow from the power of the new comers ; adverted to former instances of similar effects, and cited examples of similar dangers averted by brave resistance. " While these strangers are but few in number," he concluded, " let us stoutly issue out upon them. The fire, while it is but in embers and sparkles, may easily be covered with ashes, but if it break into flames, it is hard to be quenched.... Wherefore, cheer my hearts, we fight for our country and libei'ty ; let us leave unto our posterity an immortal fame ; let us press on and lustily assault them, that the overthrow of a few may be a terror to many ; and that it may be a warning to all future potentates not to attempt the like again." Such was the bold and specious rhetoric, which the brave monarch directed to most reluctant hearers. The real difficulties, and the true dangers of action, were as apparent to his chiefs as they were to his own sagacity; they were not, like him, impelled by the powerful sense of having fame and dominions at the hazard. The clergy — by profession the advocates of peace, and by interest concerned to protract a contest by the result of which they were likely to be gainers — were active in influencing the minds of his camp, as well as his own. He soon perceived that an effective attack was hopeless — that the consequence of defeat must be ruin. The alternative was a matter of necessity as well as prudence, and he chose it: unable to resist effectively, he resolved to temporize. New pro- posals were offered to the king of Leinster ; and by the mediation of the clergy, after some time, a treaty was concluded, in which every thing was conceded that Roderic had a right to demand. Dermod consented to acknowledge his supremacy, and to pay him the usual service of a subject prince — giving up his son as a hostage. A secret article secured the more general object of Roderic, and showed the pei'fidy of Dermod: he engaged, on the reduction of Leinster, to dis- miss his English allies; and, it is added by historians, resolved to observe this treaty no longer than might suit his purposes. He was now at liberty to pursue, undisturbed, his schemes of ven- geance and aggrandizement. Dublin was selected as the first object of attack. 'J "his city was chiefly inliabited by Ostmen, who were at this time the chief commercial inhabitants of the country. These foreigners sate loosely from the sway of the native kings, which they resisted or acquiesced in as circumstances rendered expedient. Dermod bore them especial hate for the spirit with which they had fre- quently repelled his aggressions. Nor was his dislike without a more especial cause. His father had so irritated them by oppression, that when they caught him within their walls, they slew and buried him with a dead dog. They from that time revolted and acknowledged no government but that of their countryman, Hesculph MacTorcal. Fitz- Stephen was at this time detained near Wexford, by the necessity of erecting a fort for the security of his own possessions. Dermod, with his Irish, and the remainder of his British allies, advanced into the territory of Dublin, which he laid waste with slaughter and conflagra- tion, till the terrified citizens were forced to appease him by a prompt submission, which, at the instance of Fitz-Gerald, was accepted. It would be tedious and unprofitable to enter on all the minor changes and events which led to no apparent result of any interest, in a work not directly pretending to a historical character, beyond what its pro- fessed object demands. Dermod, now fully reinstated in his power, might have allowed the disturbances he had raised to settle into com- parative calm. The English would gladly have availed themselves of the peaceful possession they might have been allowed quietly to retain ; their English countrymen showed no eagerness to join them; and king Henry, if under these assumptions he would have found induce- ment to come over, would have met the shadow of submission, and the proffer of free allegiance, which must have left things pretty nearly as they were. The arbitrement of war alone could transfer the rights of the native chiefs, and afford the sanction of necessity for the further oppressions which are the sure followers of continual strife. But Dermod's views, expanded by the elevation of confirmed power, con- sulted only his inflamed ambition, and the unremitting vengeance of his heart. Another steji lay before him — too easy to be deferred — which must place his foot on the neck of Roderic, his ancient and hated foe. He represented to his British allies the justice of his right, the wealth and magnificence of the prize. The dominions of Connaught, he said, woidd afford the richest and fairest settlements to those who should assist him in recovering the possession which had been wrongfully DEEMOD MACMUEKAGH. 193 usurped from his family. The English yielded to his reiterated per- suasions, but strongly insisted that their force was insufficient for an undertaking- of such magnitude. They urged his strenuous efforts to gain additional assistance from England, as the only sure support against all impediment and resistance. By their advice, he renewed his apjjlication to earl Strongbow, who possessed the means to lead over a sufficient force to effect the purpose. Earl Strongbow, fully apprised of the advantages he might hope for from compliance with the repeated invitations and offers of Dermod, was embarrassed by the necessity of obtaining leave from king" Heni"y. Henry was reluctant to permit private adventure to advance too far with- out his own co-operation ; it was indeed well to have the pretext raised, and the way securely tried ; but the gradual occupation of the country by adventurers, by no means squared with the views of this ambitious and far-seeing monarch. A consent so ambiguous as to admit of question when expediency might require, was the most that earl Richard could obtain ; but it was enough for a will ready to precipi- tate itself on its object: the earl departed, with the resolution to un- derstand the king- according to his own purpose. The season retarded his operations for some months. But he em- ployed the interval effectively, and completed his preparation against the spring. He now sent Raymond le Gros, the near kinsman of Fitz-Stephen and Fitz-Gerald, as an advanced guard, with a force of ten knights and seventy archers, accompanied by Hervey of Mont- niorres, who iiad returned to Wales, and now came back with a small train. This company landed near Waterford, at Dundolf.* Here they secured themselves with a sufficient entrenchment. As soon as their landing was known, there was a tumultuary muster of the men of Waterford and Ossory, who marched against them ; these were joined by Mac Kelan of Offelan, and O'Rian of Odrone. The company of Raymond did not exceed an htmdred men. He had collected into his little fortification all the cows in the surrounding districts ; and seeing the besiegers too numerous to be attacked without much un- necessary risk, at the same time resolving not to endure the inconve- niences of a lingering siege, he hit on a device which, considering the irregular character of the besiegers, was not ill-judged. While the men of Waterford and their allies, to the number of many thousands, were deliberating on the most effectual means of securing the handful of adventurers which fortune seemed to have placed within their grasp, of a sudden the gates of the little fortress expanded, and a frightened herd of black cattle rushed forth with hoof and horn, and burst with resistless impetuosity on the disorderly multitude. The undisciplined ranks scattered on every side in that confusion and disarray which, of itself, is enough to carry terror to the fiercest hearts. Before the first effects of this disorder could subside, while all were yet scattered in the wild tumult of dismay, a still fiercer enemy was among them Raymond and his thirty knights were spreading wide avenues of slaughter among the unresisting kernes. A thousand were slain, and * Downdonnel. Regan. I- N Ir. seventy taken prisoners. But the victory of Raymond was sullied by cruelty. In the fray he had lost a dear friend, and in his fury he ordered all his prisoners to be put to death.* While Raymond le Gros yet continued in his fort at Dundonnel, earl Strongbow, embarking; at Milford, August 1 1 70, on St Bartholo- mew's eve, arrived in the bay of Waterford with fifteen or sixteen hundred troops, among whom, we learn from Cambrensis, were two hundred knights, and at once resolved on the siege of that city, which was at this time governed by Reginald and Smorth, two petty Danish chiefs. Strongbow's first step was probably the sending for king Derraod, but Regan and Cambrensis differ as to the period of his arrival; the first, with whom we are inclined to concur, making it to have taken place before, the latter after, the taking of the city. Another difference here occurs between our authorities — Cambrensis giving the command of the assault to Raymond, who, by the silence of Regan, would seem to have had no share in this affair. Omitting the consideration of this difference, the siege of Waterford was begun on the following day. After meeting some severe repulses from the walls, a house was noticed which projected over an angle of the wall, and was supported by props from the outside. By cutting down the props, the house came to the ground, and left a breach through which the besiegers poured into the to%vm. Resistance was of course at an end, and a fearful slaughter was interrupted by the humane interposition of king Dermod, whose dark history seems brightened with this sole re- deeming gleam of beneficence. Immediately on the cessation of the tumult and terror of the recent siege, the nuptials of Strongbow and Eva were solemnized in Waterford. It was now agreed, between Dermod and his son-in-law, to march against Dublin, which had recently shown strong signs of returning disaffection, and against which also the wrathful enmity of Dermod had not yet been satisfied. With this resolution they went to Ferns, to remain until the completion of the necessary preparations. They were, in the mean time, apprised that Roderic had succeeded in raising a levy of thirty thousand men to intercept their approach to Dublin ; and that, with this view, he had " plashed aiad trenched all the places through which the earl and Dermod must have passed."f There was no result decisive enough for this narrative. The exhi- bition of the invading force, now swelled to upwards of four thousand English, was fully sufficient to convince the leaders of the native force of the utter absurdity of an attack, which, from the open line of march sagaciously chosen by Strongbow, should have been made without those advantages of defile and morass, without which every such attempt had hitherto failed. After three days of desultory skirmish, in which they became confirmed in this opinion, they compelled their disappointed loader to dismiss them. Roderic, who must himself have felt the just- * Such is the account of Rej^an. Camhrensis i-ppresents tlie circumstance difl'cr- ptitly. and Lehmd i«eribed by his biogra- pher, as one of the brightest luminaries tliat adorned the annals of the twelfth century. J The works of Giraldus were numerous. Ware men- tions a long list. Those which concern us chiefly are the works on the topography, and on the conquest of Ireland: which last has been the main authority for all English historians who have ever since written on the j>eriod included in his work. This concludes, however, with the first expedition of prince John. The statements of Giraldus are severely assailed by Lynch, the well-known antiquarian, who lived in the reigns of Charles 1. and Charles II. Having now discussed the principal incidents in the lives of the men who took a leading part in the invasion and in the conflicts and |)olicy that followed, whose descendants, moreover, have remained in, and still form a portion of, the population of the island, we proceed to give an account of the families of tiie principal native chiefs by whom these in- vaders were confronted, and who were finally either subdued into the English allegiance or fell before their prowess or arts. * Ware's Writers. f Hoare's Cambreiisis. i Hoare. THE O'CONNORS OF CONNAUGHT. The rise of Tirdelvac (or Turlogli) O'Connor, king of Connauglit, from being a local toparch to the recognised supremacy of the island, has already been noticed (page 69). Before his time the chiefs of Connaught made occasional appearances in Irish history, but nothing certain of their succession or descent is known. The succession of Roderic his son, after a brief interval of O'Locldin's rule, is also noticed, and his share in the incidents of the invasion is inserted in the life of Dermod Macmiirragh. RODERIC O CONNOR. KING OF COMNAL'GHT. — DIED A. D. 1198. The often-slighted memory of the last of Ireland's monarclis demands the tribute of a memorial from the justice of the impartial historian. It is difficult to do historic justice to the memory of a name which has been the subject of unwarranted reproach or slight, according to the patriotism or the bigotry of different writers, whose disrespectful comments are not borne out by the facts they state. To these state- ments we have no objection to offer; but when, in the course of these memoirs, tliey have come before us in the order of narration, we have been so free as to divest them of the tone of misrepresentation, from which even Leland — who sat down to the undertaking of Irish history in the most historical spirit — is not free. The ruling national spirit of our age is faction, to which we might apply all that Scott says of a softer passion : " In peace it tunes the shepherd's reeH, In war it mounts the warrior's steed." In peace or war, amity or opposition, praise or condemnation, party spirit is diffused through all the functions of society. Few speakers or writers seem to have retained the clearness of vision which can see the actions of men otherwise than through the medium of that system of politics with which the mind is jaundiced in the heat of party : a mist of liberalism, or of torylsm, sits like an atmosphere round every alert and intelligent actor and thinker ; and nothing is looked on but as it seems to bear relation to the creed of either party. If any one have the for- tune (or misfortune) to have preserved that intellectual indifference which seldom, perhaps, belongs to the hig^hest order of minds; there is still the fear of opinion, and the respect for individuals, to draw the judgment aside, and to draw from fear the concession to which opinion g'ives no sanction — a weakness the more dangerous, because there is no modern history, and least of all our own, in which a rigidly im- partial writer can avoid alternately drawing down the reprehension of eitlier party; nor can any one, with perfect impunity, pretend to redeem historical composition from some of the worst defects of an electioneering pamphlet. There is yet, in the history of the period to which Roderic belongs, an error still more prejudicial, founded on the same principle in human nature. Dr Leland, after some comments on the subject of the following memoir, in which we can hardly believe him to have been quite sincere, adds a reflection, which contains the true answer to all such strictures on the lives of ancient men. " It would be rash to form the severest opinion of this [the military] part of his conduct, as we are not dis- tinctly informed of the obstacles and difficulties he had to encounter. The Irish annalists who record his actions were little acquainted with intrigues of policy or faction, and little attentive to their operations. They confine themselves to the plain exposition of events ; tell us of an insurrection, a victory, or a retreat ; but never think of developing the secret causes that produced or influenced these events."* But in addi- tion to this fair admission, there is a weightier and more applicable truth, from its nature less popular, yet not less to be admitted by every candid mind. It is this — that the progress of historical events, and the chang-es of circumstances in the social state, develop and mature new feelings, which in their accumulated eft'ects at remote intervals, amount to a serious difference in the moral nature of the men of different periods. The social state, with all its divisions of sect and civil feud, is now so far cemented into one, that a moral impulse can be made to vibrate through all its arteries, amLawaken the in- tensest national sympathy, on any subject that can be extricated from exclusive locality. Certain opinions have grown into feelings of human nature, and have taken such deep root in the mind, that it has ceased to have the power of dismissing them, even when they are not applicable. Among these is the strong impression of sect, faction, country, and common cause, which are principles developed, not only by civilization, and by reflection or moral culture, but by even those accidental circumstances which may happen to diffuse a sense of common interest, or class relation, or in any way create a community. They who look on tlie past, as most will, only through the medium of the present; who see their own impressions reflected upon the obscure dis- tance of antiquity, and mistake them for the mind of the remote rude ancestors of the land ; must find a very pardonable ditficulty in realizing to themselves the fact, that in the period of king Roderic, there was no community, no national cause, no patriotism, in the operative social ele- ments of Ireland. Such notions belonged to poetry, or figured in the periods of rhetoric, and were |)erhaps recognised as fine sayings by the hearers, and meant for nothing more by the speakers. But they had no foundation in the actual state of things. The common complaints of the people had not yet been taught to offer themselves, in one voice, to a common government. National questions had not suggested national individuality, nor a recognised common interest cemented the hostile and restless strife of petty kings into a country's cause. " We know%" continues Leland, " that Roderic led great armies against Dermod and his English allies; but they were collected by inferior chiefs, many * Leland, i. 165. of whom hated and envied him. They were not implicitly obedient lo their monarch ; they were not paid ; they were not obliged to keep the field; and were ready to desert him on the most critical emergency, if the appointed period of their service should then happen to expire."* Such was the state of Roderic's power over a force composed of separate leaders, mutually at strife amongst themselves, and only to be leagued in resistance to himself. The people they severally led, had no notion of any country but their district, or of any cause but the interest of the petty toparch who ruled them with an iron rule of life and death. They had neither property or freedom, or (be it frankly said) national exist- .ence. Nor was there any reason distinctly in their apprehensions, why the Dane or the Saxon, should be more to be resisted, than the heredi- tary faction of the neighbouring district. Their very annalists, who must have had more expanded views, exhibit but a doubtful glimmer of any higher sentiment. In this state of opinion, which also may serve to explain in part Vt'hy the conquest of Ireland was not completed by Henry, the fair observer will :?ee ample vindication of the alleged remissness of O'Con- nor against the unfounded reflections of some of our historians, and the angry opprobriousness of others. Of the civil leaders of that stormy period, Roderie alone seems, by the ample extent of his interests, to have been led to views beyond his age and national state. Another general observation must have presented itself to any indifferent reader of the various accounts of sieges and fights, which we have had occasion to notice, that no difference of numerical force was sufficient to ensure the result of a battle to the Irish leader. In their notices of these engagements, all the writers state clearly, yet with a seeming unconsciousness, the true causes of any slight check which the invaders appear to have received in their earliest encounters with the native force. The well-laid ambush, the unsteady and yielding footing of the morass, the mazy and uncertain perplexity of thickets, the crowded and confused outlets of towns : all these aiforded to a brave and active population, slightly armed and accustomed to desultory warfare, advantages sufficient against the arms and discipline of their enemy. In not one instance, does there occur the slightest inci- dent to favour the supposition, that in a pitched battle on open and firm ground, any superiority of numbers that could be brought to bear, would have been enough to secure a victory such as the interests of Roderie would require. If we make a supposition, taking our standard from the most decided event we can fairly assume — the slaugh- ter of the comjiany of Armoric de St. Lawrence — it will still appear, that two hundred men were sufficient for the slaughter of a thousand of the native force, when surrounded, fghting singlij, and at all ima- ginable disadvantage. Had the two hundred been a thousand, they would, on the same assumption, have slain five thousand of their antagonists: but the same assumption would not in this case be admissible. For the power of a company increases by a law different from that of numerical increase : no imaginable number could stand ten minutes against a thousand men killing at the same rate. At • Llaiid. i. Ifi5. RODERIC O'CONNOR. 241 that time the most decided resistance was from a force far more advanced in arms than the native Irish — the Danes had built, inhabited, and defended the principal towns. In the long* interval between this period and the battle of Clontarf, their progress in civilization, and in the various arts of peace and war, had made a considerable progress ; while the natives had been either stationary or retrogressive — the pastoral habits of the country not being favourable to advance. Dublin. Wexford, Waterford, Downpatrick, Limerick, were Danish ; wlierever a stand was made, which exhibited a possibility of success, or approach toward the balanced contest of civilized warfare, the Danes were more or less the chief parties in the contlict But there was no such ayjproximatioa to equality ; and however the party historian, anxious to flatter an amiable national pride, may gloss over facts, it must have soon become apparent to those whose fortunes hung trembling on the scale, how slight w ere their chances. The appearance of their formidable preponderance of numbers may have imparted a momentary fear to the Normans: for such is the irresistible impression which connects the idea of power with multitude. And this impression too, must have been aggravated by the calamities of a jJi'otracted warfare ; decline of health and numbers, with an exhausting penury of food, during a siege in which the combined power of the nation was at length broug-ht to bear, and all seemed to desert the hardy little band of adventurers but their own indomitable and resistless energy. But a, single charg-e, a slight reverse, against which disciplined habits would have rallied, or even sincere good-will to the cause among the leaders, repaired — at once dissipated the cumbrous and imposing, but really impotent, leaguer; and left the abandoned monarch to save himself for better days, if such might be in store for his hapless country. Such is a cursory retrospect of the combination of efficient causes which controlled one, who, so far from being properly the subject of imputed censure, was the last and firmest among those on whom fell the duty of resistance in that dark day of Ireland. He had been distinguished as an enterprising and successful leader, under those circumstances of ef/ual tried which have always been the g-round for the fair estimate of character: from this may be safely inferred, that had equal arms, discipline, and field tactics, placed him on the level of a possible resistance, the same conspicuous qualities must have been as apparent. On the other hand, a new combination of circumstances arose, such as to afford no presumption which could satisfy any one but one hurried on by an enthusiastic fancy in the calculation of success ; and the accumulation of uncandid " ifs" is loosely arrayed to throw an undeserved slig'ht on the monument of a brave but unfor- tunate hero, who was not only the last who stood forward in the breach of ruin, but when all had yielded, and every hope was past, alone pre- served his sceptre, and transmitted to his province the power to be still formidable amid the ruins of the land. Roderic O'Connor was the son ol Tirlofili, already mentioned, (p. 238.) He was born about the year 1116. On the death of his father, in 1166, he succeeded to the kingdom of Connaught; and on the death of Murtagh O'Lochlin, the monarchy reverted to his family, and he was recognised as king of Connaught and monarch of Ireland, 1160, at 1. Q Ir. the mature age of fifty ; and " with great pomp and splendour was proclaimed king in Dublin."* In the next year, from the same valuable authority, we learn that a great meeting was called by him at Athboy: " to it went the nobles of Leth Chuin, both clergy and laity, and the nobles of the Danes of Dublin, thither went the comarba of St Patrick, Cadhla O'Duffay archbishop of Connaught, Lawrence O'Toole arch- bishop of Leinster, Tiernan O'Rourke lord of Brefny, Donchad O'Carrol lord of Oriel, and the son of Dunslery O'Heochadha king of Ulidia, Dermot O'Melachlin king of Temor, and Reginald lord of the Danes of Dublin." The whole amounted to 19,000 horsemen " At this assembly many good laws were enacted." His accession to power was, as has been related in our notice of Dermod M'Murragh, attended by the commencement of the misfortunes of that unworthy prince, which led to the expulsion from his throne, and the hapless resource by which he repaired his broken fortunes. The fallen O'Rourke was raised from a state of humiliation and a miserable subjection to the insults of a tyrant who hated him, because he had injured him, by the powerful weight of the hereditary friendship of O'Conor. And in redressing the injuries of his friendly tributary, Roderic was not inattentive to the interests of Ids own kingdom. Con- stantly in the field, he left no interval of peaceful neglect for the tur- bulent insubordination of his restless tributaries, or the ambition of his rivals : but pursued a course of active, firm, and judicious policy in the field, and wise and beneficent civil administration and legislative enactment, which secured him the respect of the great body of the chiefs and clergy. Without reaching an elevation of principle — a moderation or clemency altogether beyond his time and country — without being free from the vindictive ferocity, or the ai'bitrary rule of a barbaric prince ; he was all that posterity can claim from the virtue and knowledge of his age. But his character was soon to be put to a test, to which none could have submitted without a soil — the power of a civilized people, " An old and haughty nution, proud in arms," and to leave a history obscured by circumstances beyond his control, to the prejudice and the exasperated nationality of after times. In the year 1171, "a battle was fought in Dublin between Miles De Cogan, and Asgall, son of Reginald king of the Danes of Dublin; many fell on both sides, both of the English archers and of the Danes, among whom was Asgall himself, and Houn, a Dane from the Orkney isles. Roderic O'Conor, Tiernan O'Rourke, and Murchad O'Carrol, marched with an army to Dublin to besiege the city, then in the possession of earl Strongbow and Miles de Cogan. They remained there for a fortnight, during which time many fierce engage- ments took place between them."f A siege of Dublin, garrisoned by superior forces, was at the time as desperate and dangerous an under- taking as can well be conceived. Roderic, after the repeated trials of the force mentioned in the annals, must have begun to perceive the • Annals, translated for the Dublin Pevvij Journal, hv .T. O'Donovan. ■f Annals of the Four I^Iasters, by J. O'Donovan !b. RODERIC O'CONNOR. 243 inadequacy of his present preparation. He pursued the step most likely to lead to advaatage, in distracting the attention and cutting ott' the resources of the enemy. He marched into the country of Dermod for the purpose of carrying off and burning the corn of the English. His force soon melted away. Feeling that they were unequally matched against superior advantages, and depressed in spirit by the appearance of continued danger and toil without any personal interest, they demanded their dismission on the expiration of the term for which they were bound to serve. O'Connor had no choice but to lead away the small residuary force which he could command, in order to return afresh when a competent army could be raised. Shortly after this he raised a sufficient force to march against Leinster, for the purpose of cutting off the resources of the invaders ; which he did to an extent that was soon after sensibly felt by them, when besieged in Dublin. By the patriotic efforts of the venerable archbishop O'Toole, he was again enabled to take the field, and the English were shut up in Dublin by the greatest force which it had hitherto been found practicable to collect. Strongbovv nearly reduced by famine, and daunted by the appearance of an overwhelming power, proposed terms which would have raised the power of Roderic on a firmer basis than the Irish throne liad ever yet attained. But by the communion of a more ad- vanced wisdom in the person of his friend and counsellor O'Toole, and also in the natural course of experience, Roderic had acquired higher and more patriotic views than had hitherto influenced any Irisli prince. He repelled the offer with a stern reply; and chose to abide by his ad- vantage. But his ardour carried him away from the path of prudence. He forgot the frail and evanescent material of the army he led. He did not calculate on the experience of their coldness to a cause, in which they only saw the interests of two rival cliiefs or leaders con- cerned. Strong persuasion had worked their spirit to a certain point of union, but it fell short of the resolution required to face an enemy whom they had begun to deem irresistible. A well-timed sally ended all illusion. Henry landed in Ireland, with a force which set resistance at scorn. The ciiiefs showed their true view of the expedient course by coming in unhesitatingly with submission. One only held aloof — one only showed a front of defiance, against which Henry, having doubtless the best nifbrmation, did not think it wise to cope. One chief treated with Henry as a king, extorted and maintained his title and his sovereig-n power by treaty, and, in fact, handed it down to his sons. And this was Roderic. But this was not all; as a sovereign he retained the Bword, and while there was the slightest ray of hope, he never forgot resistance to the spoiler. His enemies enlarged the basis of their power; but meanwhile, the Irish were advancing in military discipline, for which their aptitude was, as it is now, very remarkable. In 1176, the Four Masters inform us " The Earl Strongbow marched his forces to plunder Munster, and Roderic O'Connor, king of Connaught, has- tened to make resistance. When the English heard intelligence of Roderic's approach to give them battle, they invited the foreigners of Dublin to their assistance, who with all possible speed marched to Thurles, where thev were met b^^ Donal O'Brien at the head of the 244 THE O'CONNORS OF CONNAUGHT. Dalcassians, by a battalion from West Connaug-ht, and by a numerous and select army of the Clanmurry under Roderic. A furious engage- ment ensued in which the English were at last defeated."* Shortly after, conceiving that the time was at length arrived for the expulsion of the English, Roderic led a force into Meath, levelled the foi'ts of De Lacy, and wasted to the gates of Dublin. On this we extract a few lines from Mr Moore's learned and eloquent work, both as suitable to our view, and because it exhibits strongly the man- ner in which the patriotic ardour of the historian leads him to over- look the inconsistent language which attacks the conduct of this monarch for not performing confessed impossibilities. Having men- tioned the seeming emergency of the position of Strongbow, he pro- ceeds: " But added to the total want in Roderic himself of the qualities fitted for so trying a juncture, the very nature of the force under his command completely disqualified it for regular or protracted warfare ; an Irish army being, in those times, little better than a rude tumultuous assemblag-e, brought together by the impulse of passion or the prospect of plunder, and, as soon as sated or thwarted in its immediate object, dispersing as loosely and again as lawlessly as it had assembled." Now, if it be considered, that no inference can be brought to justify the depreciating view which so many able writers have concurred in forming of Roderic, unless from his failure to effect the object of his wishes with a force confessedli/ inadequate — it looks a little like wandering into a circle of a very vicious kind, to attribute any failure to the defects of his own character. The conduct of Roderic was throughout enforced by the most rigid necessity ; and as it is hardly to be expected that he should have entered into the whole poetry of modern patriotic antiquarians, so it could still less be demanded that, with his tumultuary assemblage, disaff"ected leaders, imperfect command, and formidable enemy, he should be able to enact the summai-y exploits, which are so easy to the rapid and decisive quill of his critics. After long grappling with adverse fortune, in his fifty-ninth year, convinced that he had nothing to depend on for resistance, and not actuated by " a desperate spirit of patriotism" [which alone] " might have urged him still to persevere ;" Roderic showing a sagacity, as clear as his protracted resistance with inadequate materials had shown a heroism, wisely and considerately resolved to preserve his province from ravage, by a dignified submission on a most favourable treaty. With this view he sent Lawrence, whose instrumentality of itself carries with it approbation, to negotiate with Henry. A council was summoned by Henry to meet Lawrence, with the archbishop of Tuam and the abbot of St Brendan's, who were Roderlc's ambassadors. By the terms of the treaty settled at this convention, it was agreed, " That the king of England concedes to the aforesaid Roderic, his liege man, the kingdom of Connaught, so long as he shall faithfully serve him, that he shall be king under him, prepared to render him service as his vassal. And that he may hold his kingdom as well and peacefully as liefore the coming of the king of England * Aiiiitils of Four ]Mastf'vs. RODERIC O'CONNOR. 245 into Ireland, on the condition of paying him tribute. He was also to have the whole of the land and its iuliabitants under him, on condition that they should faithfully pay tribute to the king of Eng-land; and that they should hold their rights on peaceably, so long as they re- mained faithful to the king of England, paying him tribute and all other rights through the hands of the king of Connaught — saving in all things the rights of the king of England and his." This treaty, of which we have loosely paraphrased the first article, consists of four. The second stipulates, that if any of the Irish chiefs should be rebels against the king of England, or withhold their tribute, the king of Connaught should compel or remove them ; or if unable to do so, that in such case he should have assistance from the king of England's con- stable. In the same article it is stipulated, that the king of Connaught was to pay one hide out of every tenth head of cattle slaughtered. The third article exempts, from the force of the previous articles, certain towns and districts already held by or under the king of England by his barons. And by the foui'th and last it was provided, that those who had fled from the territories under the king's barons, were at liber- ty to return, under the same conditions of tribute or service to which they had been formerly subject, &c. &c.* The importance of this treaty, as it aftects the subject of this memoir, is, that it strongly manifests the respect paid to his vigour of character by the sagacious Henry, who was not a person likely to yield a hair's-breadth of sovereignty which he could easily secure or retain. He was, it is true, deeply in- volved in the troubles of domestic faction and rebellion, and could not have personally pursued the conquest of Ireland to its completion. And his distrust of his barons was so easily awakened, that it is pro- bable, he thought it safer to compromise with the Irish monarch, and keep up the countercheck of a native power against their ambition, than to allow any deputed government to raise itself into an indepen- dent form and force, in the absence of opposition, and from tlie growing resources of the wliole united power of the country. This may un- doubtedly take something from the force of any inference favourable to our view of Roderic; yet it still exliibits the result of a persever- ing resistance, crowned with substantial success, where every other power and authority was compelled to yield. Something was con- ceded and soraetliing trusted, to one who alone never, from the begin- ning of the contest to the end, laid down his arms or gave up the cause, till he was left alone — till by late experience he ascertained that he liad , no adequate means of resistance, and that his tributaiies were not to be depended on in the field — till they of his own iiousehold were leagued against him; and until it became more respectable, as well as consider- ate to his province, to secure an honourable and nearly equal treaty, than to keep up a discreditable and unprincipled war, of which ono result alone seemed probable — tlie depopulation of his provincial realm. From this, there is nothing recorded worthy of further commemora- tion, in the life of a monarch whose firm and vigorous, as well as sagacious jiolicy both as king and leader, — until the setting in of a new order of events bafiled and set at nought alike the virtues and * Cox. Hibeniia Auiilicaua. resources of his country, — might have helped the impartial historian to form a truer and kinder estimate of his conduct under trials against which he had no effectual strength but that perseveraijce against hope, and under continual failure, for wliicli his conduct is distinguished. He could not have concentrated the selfish, lukewarm, contentious, and disaftected chiefs at Ferns or in Dublin, into a compact, dis- ciplined body of patriots, of which they had not one amongst them. One mistake he made. He did not, in the clash of petty oppositions and tlirough the dust of the restless factions of his country, discern in its proper character and real magnitude, the new danger tliat was come upon the kingdom ; he did not see that it was time to abandon old rival- ship, and to adopt a course of conciliation and combination, to give even the remotest prospect of resistance to the universal invader ; in- stead of this he looked on the new foe, as simply one among the turbulent elements in the cauldron of perpetual feud, nor did he dis- cern his error until the contest had assumed strength, and an extensive system of preparatory measures was impracticable. Again, he did not yield in time : an earlier submission would have saved m uch. But we will not extend these useless reflections. He felt and acted, not according to the feelings and opinions of modern patriots, yet very much in the same general temper ; engrossed by the game of circumscribed passions and policies of the moment, he could not enlarge his comprehension at once, to the compass of another spirit and another order of events. Roderic, at an advanced age, worn out with the labours and vex- ations of a long life embittered by the ingratitude and turbulence of his childi-en, retired into the monastery of Cong, Avhere he lived in peaceful obscurity for twelve yeai's, till 1198, when he died at the age of about eighty-two. The character of Roderic has been summed with historic impartiality by a descendant of his blood: "In his youth, Roderic had fallings, which were under little control fi'om their neighbouring good quali- ties. Arrogant, precipitate and voluptuous ; the ductility of his temper served only to put his passions under the directions of bad men, while its audaciousness rendered him less accessible to those who would give those passions a good tendency, or would have rescued him from their evil consequences. His father Turloch the Great, endeavoured to break this bold spirit, by ordering him at several times to be put under confinement. He bore this indignity, in the first trials, with the ignoble fortitude which flows from resentment: in the second, reflection came to his aid, and grafted that virtue upon a. better stock; which engaged him to be wholly reconciled to his father, and forget the over-rigorous severity of his last imprisonment. Bred up in the camp, almost from his infancy, he became an expert warrior; and although licentious in piivate life, yet he never devoted to pleasures those hours which required liis activity in the field or his presence in the council. In a more advanced stage of life his capacity opened, and gave the lead to his better qualities, in most instances of his conduct- Afl'able, generous, sincere ; he retained a great number of friends, and he had the consolation of being served faithfully by the worthiest amon"- them, when every other good fortune deserted him. Years and experience took their proper effect on him ; and the rectitude of his measures had a greater share than fortune in raising him above all his fellow-countrymen in the public esteem, when the throne became vacant upon the fall of his predecessor in the battle of Litterhim. The crazy civil constitution, of which he got the administration, created many avowed as well as secret enemies. The former he reduced by policy and by force of ai-ms. But external circumstances rendered their subjection precarious. He had to deal with powerful subjects, who had themselves interests heavier than either good faith or public interest. To the usual motives of faction, the same external pressure made their personal interests paramount, and the bond of allegiance was at no time more than force could maintain. CATHAL O CONNOR. DIED A. D. I223. On the death of the last of Ireland's mouarchs, there was for some time a violent and bloody contention for the provincial throne. Con- nor Moienmoy was elected, but immediately after met with his death by the hand of one of his brothers, who in his turn was slain by the son of Moienmoy; and the j^rovince was again plunged into conten- tion, until at last the vigour and interest of Cathal O'Connor, a son of Roderick, succeeded in fixing- him upon the throne. Cathal was a prince of active and warlike tempei', and had already acquired renown by his personal prowess, and by the many homicides which had gained him the title of the bloody hand. He soon increased his popularity by the demonstration of military ardour, and by his loud declarations and active preparations against the English settlers. He spoke with confidence of their expulsion, and promised the speedy restoration of the monarchy. These threats were rendered not chi- merical, by the dissensions of the Irish barons and the weakness of the government; and many other native chiefs, impressed by the vigour of Cathal's preparations, consented to act in concert with him. With this view, long standing animosities were laid aside, and treaties of amity and co-operation were entered upon to support a leader who spoke the languag-e of patriotism, and came forward in the common cause. Among these the princes of Desmond and Thomond were the most prominent; their mutual enmity, embittered by the constant encroachments of neighbourhood, was adjourned, and they agreed to join in the support of Cathal. The first fruit of this new combination was that aff"ecting and tragic battle at Kuockniag, near Tuam, in which the renowned knight Ar- moric de St Lawrence, with two hundi-ed foot and thirty horse, were surrounded by Cathal's army and slaughtered, at the cost to the victor of a thousand men.* Little creditable as this event was to the arms, the generosity, or even common humanity of the Irish prince, it had the effect of exciting the ardour and the emulation of his allies. O'Brien, the prince of Tho- * See page '232, where the purticulurs are givt-u. 248 THE O'CONNORS OF CONNAUGHT. mond, raised a considerable force, and soon met the English on the field of Thurles, where he gained a slight victory. Such advantages were not of a decisive character ; won by surprises, and by the advan- tage of overwhelming numbers, they had no weig'ht in the scale of general results ; they gave impulse to these excitable but inconstant and unsteady warriors ; and while they had the effect of leading them on to agg-ratated misfortunes, they caused to the English infinite incon- venience, which eventually were compensated by increased acquisitions. The only result of O'Brien's victory was an increase of vigom-, caution, and determination on the part of the enemy, who extended their depre- dations into the territory of Desmond, and multiplied their forts to an extent that struck general alarm into the Irish of that district. The Irish annalists are supported by the abbot of Peterborough in the affirmation, that the English practised great cruelties on the family of O'Brien when, not long after his death, they penetrated into Thomond.* Cathal was soon apprized of their progress, and of these unusual atrocities with which it was accompanied. He entered Munster at the head of a numerous force. The English retired at bis approach : they had no force adequate to the encounter. Cathal followed up the advantage thus gained by destroying their forts, " to the surprise," says Leland, " and admiration of his countrymen, \%ho expected notliing less than the utter extirpation of their enemies, from a young warrior in all the pride of fortune and popular favour ."f Cathal's judgment was however far inferior to his courage and activity, and his means of continued opposition lower still. Having executed this incomplete achievement, he retired to his province and left the contested terri- tories to the more deliberate arms and steadier valour of the English. They were not however in this instance allowed to profit by his negli- gence, as Macarthy of Desmond interrupted their attempts to reinstate themselves in the same territories ; this brave chief leading his army to meet them on their return, gave them a decided overthrow in the field, and followed up his success with a prudence, activity, and skill, wbich compelled them to evacuate the county of Limerick. The result of this bold and decisive step was to secure this territory for some years longer, until the city of Limerick was granted in custody to William de Burgo, who quickly gained possession of it, and thus effected a settlement which threatened all Munster. In this juncture, Cathal was rendered inactive by the increasing distractions of his own province. He had no prudence to enable him to satisfy the exaggerated expectations to which his fiery courage had given rise. The admiration occasioned by his first active steps had subsided into disappointment; and as the loud applause of popular excitement died away, the longer-breathed murmurs of enmity, jealousy, disappointed ambition and revenge, like sure and steady bloodhounds, began to be heard louder and louder in his own province, and around his court. A vigorous and daring rival collected and concentrated these elements of faction. But Carragh O'Connor found a surer and shorter way to supplant his rival than in the intrigues of a court, or in reliance on the fickle and divided hostility of the natives. He ad- * Leland. t I'J- i- c. 5. CATHAL O'CONNOR. 249 dressed himself secretly to De Burgo. Cathal had pursued^ with some success, a course which necessarily led to a dangerous hostility with De Burgo. The claims of this powerful baron in Connaught were such as Cathal could not be presumed to acquiesce in: but Carragh pro- mised to invest the baron with all the lands to which he laid claim by the grant of John, and thus engaged his powerful aid against Cathal. Under the guidance of De Burgo, the enterprise was conducted with a celerity which outran all intelligence of their movements; and Cathal, surprised in his court, was obliged to consult his personal safety by flight. Carragh was thus, without a blow, put into possession of the throne of Connaught. The exiled prince took refuge with O'Niall of Tyrone. 1 he surrounding chiefs were filled with surprise and indignation, at the success of an outrage equally atrocious in its object, and dangerous in its means. A powerful confederacy was formed to redi'ess a wrong which thus called with equal force upon their prudence and humanity. But now by experience aware of the inutility of coping in the field with an English baron of the power of De Burgo, they adopted the expedient which, though in the first in- stance dangerous, was in theirs an essential part of prudence, and entered into treaty with De Courcy and De Lacy, whom they easily prevailed on to join their league. The two armies, led by De Bui'go on one side, and on the other by De Courcy and De Lacy, soon met ; the English force on either side gave obstinacy to the combat, and it was after a struggle of some duration, and contested with great valour and much loss on either side, that at length the troops of De Burgo and his ally obtained a decided victory. Thus was Cathal seemingly as far as ever from redress, and Carragh 's usurpation confirmed to all appearance by success. O'Niall of Tyrone was reduced to a condition equally deplorable with that of Cathal. His English allies were yet smarting from their recent defeat, and now involved in troubles of their own; but he had still a considerable faction in Connaught, and he did not desert him- self. De Burgo had now raised himself to great power, and had com- pletely broken down all opposition from the Munster chiefs. He assumed the tone of independent royalty, and showed a vigour, promp- titude, and boldness in all his mea&ures, which made him more pecu- liarly accessible to any appeal which either flattered his pride or excited his ambition and cupidity of acquisition. To him Cathal now secretly applied. With much address he detached him from his rival's interest, by the most specious promises and representations, and so eflectually won upon his pride and generosity, that he persuaded him to declare in his favour against the prince he had so recently set up in opposition to him. Carragh was little prepared for this formi- dable emergency: a battle was fought which was quickly decided against him, and he fell overpowered by numbers ; and Cathal was restored by the conqueror, whom he repaid with the ingratitude which his fickle caprice and avidity of possession richly deserved. Nor was De Burgo at the moment in a condition to enforce the fulfilment of his promises. The faction of Cathal had been strong, and his enemies were now under his command: De Bui-go was quickly compelled to retreat with precipitation, to avoid an unequal contest. He would 250 THE O'CONNORS OF CONNAUGHT. have returned with a fresh armj, but other troubles awaited him. The English governor, Fitz-Henry, had raised a strong force, and was on his way to Munster for the purpose of chastising his arrogant assumption of independence ; and the Irish chiefs of Munster, glad of the occasion to suppress a formidable enemy, whom they feared and hated, and willing also to conciliate the English government, offered their services to Fitz-Heury, and were accepted. Among these chiefs Cathal also came. He saw the opportunity to put down a powerful and relentless enemy, who would be content with nothing short of his ruin. De Burgo was soon besieged in Limerick, and compelled to submit. The Irish chiefs, long harassed by factions and by the growing pressure of the barons, were happy to seize the favourable moment to secure their own power and possessions on the best founda- tion. Cathal consented to surrender to king .lohn two-thirds of Con- naught, and pay one hundred annual marks for the remainder, which he was to hold as a vassal of the crown.* This secure arrangement placed Cathal, with other chiefs who had availed themselves of the same opportunity, under the protection of the crown, and we do not hear much of him further. On the Irish expedition of John in 1210, he appears among the chiefs who on that occasion presented themselves to oifer homage, or renew their engagements to the king; and some time after, we find him re- ceiving, on application, the protection of the crown against John de Burgo, who was encroaching upon his lands. This latter occasion presents perhaps the fairest general view that can be collected from events, of the u-ue position of affairs in this island, at the latter end of king John's reign. The English barons, possessed of great wealth, far from control, and engaged in the pursuits of territorial acquisition ; having also a contempt for the native chiefs, and living at a time when the principles of right were little understood, and forcible usurpation sanctioned by the highest examples of recent history and all the habits of the age ; armed too with power, which soon learns to trample upon all consider- ations, they did not with much care resist the constant temptation to encroachment, where there was no effective resistance. Anxious for one object, the extension of their possessions, they easily found excuses to extend their just bounds, and crowds of the natives were thus stripped of their possessions. This evil was more prevalent in Con- naught, where the power of the De Burgo family was greatest, and where there was least couiitoi-balance in any native power. The greatest control upon these aggressions appears to have existed where both the English settlers and the native chiefs were the most numerous, and the distribution of power and property more equal ; a constant succession of small intrigues and contentions led to less decided and permanent results. The inferior native chiefs also, were less compelled to offer to the English arms and policy a front of resistance such as to bring on their eventual ruin as the only means of quieting their opposition ; and consequently, where king-s and powerful provincial rulers or proprietors were stripped of their vast possetrsions in the * Ai<'!iives, Turr. Loml., quoted by Leland. CATHAL O'CONNOR. 251 struggle of conquest aud resistance, most of the minor proprietors had the means of consulting their safety by a submission which -vvas preserved by no scruple beyond the presence of immediate danger ; or by a crafty alliance with those who might otherwise have been for- midable foes. But to the greater chiefs such courses of safety were not permitted. The opinion of their pi-ovinces was to be respected. O'Niall of Tyrone was deposed by his subjects, because he saft'ered a defeat; and Cathal, defeated in the same battle, was perhaps only ex- empted, by the misfortunes which had already reduced him to the con- dition of a suppliant and a fugitive. When, however, he was, by the course of events compelled to cede two-thirds of his territory, and pay a rent for the remainder, as the voluntary price of protection, it not only exhibits the formidable nature of the dangers by which he was menaced; but may be regarded as a virtual deposition. He was un- doubtedly prostrated by the force of events, which could only be arrested in their course by submission, and from the pressure of which he was left no protection, but an appeal to the king of England. This appeal, it was the policy of the English government for every reason to receive with encouraging* favour, and although there hung between the Irish complaint and the throne a cloud of misrepresenta- tion and ignorance of the state of the country, yet until some time after when other causes began to interfere, such complaints were sure to elicit the required interposition. There had at this period fully set in a long struggle between the barons and the crown, which although oc- casionally interrupted by the vigour of some reigns, never ceased until it terminated in the restriction of both these powers, and the develop- ment of a third ; and it was as much the interest of the English king to repress the licentious turbulence and spirit of usurpation of the barons, as it was on such occasions the obvious demand of justice. It is also apparent, that there was an anxious jealousy excited at this period, by the vast accumulation of power, possession, and consequence acquired by some of the greater settlers— and the tone of indepen- dence which was the occasional consequence. On no occasion were these results more apparent, tlian upon the complaint of Cathal O'Con- nor, under tlie fierce encroachments of John de Burgo. The O'Connors who had been in the first struggle the most dangerous opponents, had also been by far the most ready to preserve the conditions of their own engagements, and although undoubted instances of the contrary occur, yet in that age of loose conventions, their family presents the most honourable examples of the steady preservation of faith and an ob- servance of sacred engagements which claimed trust and protection from the English crown, and manifests in this race a spirit enlightened beyond their period. The reader will perhaps revert to the seemingly perfidious conduct of this very Cathal, when reinstated by De Burgo ; and unquestionably, if referred to the morality of an enlightened age, such must be its description. But we do not so refer it; the faith of treaties and the solemn acts between kings and states was fully un- derstood — it was an indispensable principle of the very existence of nations. But in that age of robbery and spoliation, the rights of in- dividuals were on a different footing; Catlial looked on De Burgo as a plunderer who had inflicted on him the deepest injury ; and consid- 252 THE O'CONNORS OF CONNAUGHT. ered it not unjust or dishonourable to circumvent him into an act of reparation, for which no gratitude was due. It would be tampering with the most important principles, not to admit the violation of even such engagements to be quite unjustifiable on any principle ; but the crime was of the age, the virtue, of the individual. The faith of Cathal was, it is true, rendered doubtful by the force of constraining circumstances : he had little choice of resources. His powers of offence or defence were annihilated. Oppressed by De Burgo, he appealed to the throne. Against this appeal his oppressor advanced misrepre- sentations of his motives ; but the case was too palpable, and the insi- dious representations of his enemies were disregarded. King John directed his lord justice and other faithful subjects in Ireland to sup- port O'Connor against his enemies; and further ordered that no allega- tions against liim should be received, so long as he continued true in his allegiance to the crown.* Under tin's powerful protection the remainder of Cathal's life pre- sents no further incident for tiie biographer : he seems to have been allowed to continue in peaceful posscbsion of his remaining rights till 1223, when he died. FEIDIJM O CONNOR, PRINCE OF CONNAUGHT. SUCCEEDED A. D. 1228. On Cathal's death liis son Tirlogh was elected by the people, but immediately deposed by the lord justice, and a brother raised in his room. The new sovereign became involved in a quarrel in consequence of some unlucky misapprehensions, which led to his death in a riot that ensued. His murderer was discovered and executed. Tirlogh assumed the sovereignty; but Richard de Burgo, who had himself a claim to succeed Cathal, for reasons not stated, thought pro- per to raise Feidlim to the succession. Such apparently was the course most favourable to his plans of self-aggrandizement. The obstacles his ambition feared were more likely to arise from the suspicions of the king of England, and the vigilance of his governors, than from a small provincial ruler, whom he considered as existing only by his favour, and whose name and authority he might hope to use as the mask and instrument of his designs. He was, however, mistaken in his choice. From Feidlim, De Burgo received a lesson which belonged peculiarly to the experience of his time. Feidlim was a prince of very uncommon spirit and sagacity, and quickly saw and seized on the advantages of his position ; — these are so obvious, that we may assume them safely. It must have been plainly apparent that by a tame submission to De Burgo, he could be nothing more than an instrument in the absolute power of that enci'oaching baron, who simply raised him to occupy a nominal right over territory which he found it dangerous to seize at once, until it should be effected by slower and more safe degrees, by means of a Kyiiiei'. succession of arbitrary and oppressive acts. Sooner than submit to such an abject and precarious footing, Feidlim preferred to hazard all ; but he had caution and foresight equal to his boldness. He justly reckoned on the troubles in which the turbulent ambition of De Burgo would quickly and frequently involve him ; and relied also on the steady character of the English protection, could it once be obtained, free from the capricious intervention of the barons and their dependents. He formed his plans accordingly. He commenced by resistance to oppressive and unjust demands. De Burgo, who was little likely to acquiesce in resistance from one whom he considered as the creature of his will and convenience, at once marched ag-ainst him, and made him prisoner. Feidlim had the good fortune to escape. Still more fortunately for him, Hubert de Burgo, the English justiciary at this time, fell into disgrace ; and, in conse- quence, his nephew was deprived of the government, and Maurice Fitz- Gerald appointed in his stead. Feidlim, with ready s;igacity, seized upon the favourable moment. Aware of the insufficiency of any means of resistance in his power, and reckoning justly on the effects of De Burgo's discredit, he made a pathetic and forcible appeal to the king, in which he set forth, in strong terms, the known fidelity of his father, C'athal, and his own — the extensive cessions they had freely made — the strong pledges of protection they had received — and the unjust and insatiable rapacity of De Burgo. To these considerations he added a strong description of his disregard of the royal rights in Ireland — his seizure of the king's forts — his depredations and military inroads upon his faithful liegemen — and his general assumption of powers altogether inconsistent with the fidelity of a subject. To this representation he added an earnest request to be permitted to repair to England, and cast himself at the foot of the throne, that he might more fully explain the crimes of De Burgo, and his own wrongs. This judicious step of O'Connor was successful. Henry was surprised at an account so different from those with which he had been duped, according to the consistent and fatal policy of his Irish barons and ministers, whose immunities were extended and their crimes concealed by continued misrepresenta- tions to the crown. Of O'Connor, he had been given to understand that he had leed a British peer, and raised to the dignity of Marquis of Kildare, Earl of OfFally, and Duke of Leinster in Ireland, 1766. Of the_ intervening earls, his father, Robert, the 18th earl, was conspicuous for his public services (having been lord justice, chancellor, and a commis- sioner of the great seal in Ireland), and for his benevolence and piety. ^ulus of ^txmttx, parqnisfs anb €arls of ^ilhmt, anb Claris of ©lallg. 2dD. 26 L. 0. 1773. William Robert, his eld. son. IRISH FAMILIES JOHN, GRANDSON OF HIS 2d MARRIAGE WITH 1. Fitzgerulds, the ^hite Kuights; from Gilbert, his eldest son. ARMORIAL BEARINGS OF FITZGERALD, EARL OF KILDARE. Fitzgerald?. The Knights of Glin; from John, his second son. 3d D. 27 L. 0. 1804. Augustus Fred- erick, his eld. son, Sole D. and Premier M, of Ireland. DESCENDED FROM GERALD, 2d L. 0., BY HOKORA O'CONNOR. Knights of Kerry or the Black Knights; from Maurice, his third son. Arms. — Argent, a saltier, gules. | ^ Crest. — A monkey statant proper. environed about the middle with a plain collar and chained or. Supporters. — Two monkeys, envi- roned and chained, as the crest. Mottoes. — Over the crest, •' Xon im- memov beneficii;" under the shield, " Crom a boo." 4 The Fitigeralds of the Island; from Thomas, his fourth son. • The crest and supporters were first assumed by Thomas, called 6th feudal L. O., called "The Ape," from an escape he had when an infant. Of the patent of Earldom of Kildare, which is given at length in Jacob, Selden says, " It is the most ancient form of creation I have seen." A.5 uilarton S: 'J . L 01; donS;Ediiib'Urgli THE FITZGERALDS. 285 eion against its known contriver. It was not allowed to subside bv any prudent abstuience from tyrannical aggressions on the lives and properties of the barons. The cloud of their discontent concentrated, and became perceptibly loaded with danger; so that, when the arch- bishop of Canterbury took up the gx-ievances of the barons, it was felt and understood to be an expression of the national feeling. This brave and patriotic churchman threatened excommunication as the penalty, if the king should delay to dismiss De Roches and all his foreign creatures ; and the king, compelled to yield, for a time suffered the country to be governed according to law. In Ireland, the indignation of all but those immediately concerned in the crime was not less. The descendant of MacMurrogh was re- garded as the sovereign of Leinster. The citizens of Dublin made themselves heard in the English court, and Henry was fain to silence their clamours by a letter expressive of the most liberal g"Ood inten- tions. In the mean time, the conspiring lords hastened to profit by their crime, and divide the spoils of the murdered earl. His brother, Gilbert, had pursued the same course of opposition to Henry ; who was already re-entering on the same oppressive and unpopular habits : his marriage with the daughter of the Scottish king had excited his vanity, but he wanted the qualities which made earl Richard formida- ble, and quickly found himself obliged to sue for the king's pardon and favour. By powerful Intercession he succeeded, and was allowed to take possession of his estates. Maurice Fitz-Gerald was influenced by his fears to clear himself by a solemn oath of having had any part in the murder of the earl ; and proposed to show his sincerity by found- ing a monastery to maintain continual masses for the good of his soul. THE FITZGEEALDS. Poxtse of ^ilbarf. The Geraldine race has, from the Conquest, occupied a larger space in the records of the kingdom than any other of its most distinguished names, for good or ill, for adverse or prosperous fortune. In the course of descent, it was divided into two powerful and richly endowed branches, widely different in fate, and in the courses which determined their eventful career. The one, by its territorial position, connected with the more civilized customs, institutions, and government of the Pale, still preserving in the main, or with not more than the ordinary deviations of the Irish Baronage, the course of civil order and subor- dination — passed finally through many trials and reverses to its existing calm elevation at the head of tlie Irish aristocracy. Tlie kindred branch of Desmond, planted far in the savage soil of Munster — as Munster then was— adopting the rude manners, the ancient lan- guage, and barbarian laws and usages of the old despotic chiefs among whom they lived; were finally led by many steps througli their seven- teen turlndent generations, to the hapless fate of those whose disorders 286 THE FITZGERALDS. and turbulent factions they are said to have surpassed ; ' Hibernis i|)^is hiberniores.' Tlirough tlie long period thus marked out, we must necessarily leave to the diligence of the genealogist the enumeration of personal steps, fur- ther than our professed purpose imposes. Our concern is wholly with those who, for whatever claim of act or suffering, have obtained a place in our history — an illustrious, a tragic, or even a notorious name. Many names, it may be tridy said, which spread terror or kindled vulgar dis- affection in their day, now sleep in the silence of history; it would bo idle to recall them, their echoes are at no time quite dead. MAURICE FITZGERALD. BORN' A.D. 1193 DIED A.D. 1"257. This eminent person was the grandson of the first leader of the same name, of whom we have already presented the reader with a sketch. His father, Gerald, was styled baron Ophaly ; and, as he is said to have died in 1205, and Maurice was put in possession of his honours and estates in 1216, it is to be presumed that it was on the occasion of his coming of age. In 1 229, on the disgrace of Hubert de Burgo, Maurice was appointed lord justice of Ireland, in the room of Richard de Burgo. The principal public incidents of his adminis- tration at this time, were the contests between Feidlim O'Conor and De Burgo, and the hapless and shameful death of earl INIarshall. These we have already related. This last-mentioned event excited great Indignation in Ireland, and threw much imputation on his government. Gilbert, the brother and successor of the murdered earl, for a little time incurred the anger of Henry III. He had married the daughter of Alexander, king of Scot- land; and, possessing his unfortunate brother's pride and spirit, without his ability, he was quickly led into a course of opposition which ended in his disg'race. He was, however, restored to favour by the mediation of the king's brother. Maurice Fitz-Gerald on this, thought it pru dent to seek a reconciliation with him, and passed over to England to obtain the royal influence for his purpose. He there exculpated him- self before Henry and his court, by a solemn oath, that he had no part in the death of Richard, earl Marshall; and proposed, for the sake of amity and peace between the families, to found a monastery, with monks to offer up continual masses for the soul of the murdered earl. It was also on this occasion that Feidlim O'Conor came over in person to look for redress at the English court, against his enemy, Richard de Burgo. The account of sudden commotions in Ireland hastened the return of Maurice; on his approach they subsided into a calm. In the following year, 1244, king Henry had levied a powerful army to make war on Alexander, king of Scotland ; but the cause of quarrel being removed, he was advised to seize the opportunity to re- MAURICE FITZGERALD. 287 (iuce the Welsh to obedience. On this occasion the king sent to Maurice, to attend him with such aid as he could bring- from Ireland. The delay was considerable enoug-h to give the king' some discontent, which he seems to have treasured up for a future occasion. Maurice led over his forces, accompanied by Feidlim O'Conor. Passing the island of Anglesey, they landed and laid waste a part of the island; but, while they were moving off with the spoil to their ships, the inhabi- tants collected and came on them bv surprise. They had no force equal to the emergency, and were obliged to drop their burthens and make the best escape thej' could.* They then made the best of their way to the king, and remained with him until he had reduced the Welsh and stiengthened his garrisons in that country; after which Maurice returned into Ireland. On his return he found the country in a state of insurrection. The deaths of Hugh de Lacy ajid Richard de Burgo, with the absence of the lord justice, seemed to aiford an occasion for gaining some advantage to O'Donel, who overran Ulster and committed great waste. Maurice marched against him ; and, with the aid of Feidlim 0'Conor,f easily reduced O'Donel and restored peace to that district. He also forced O'Neale to give hostages, whom he J secured in his castle of Sligo. Other important services are mentioned by historians. But Henry had been dissatisfied at the tardy succour which he had received in his Welsh campaign ; or, as is far more likely, some turn of court intrigue operating to the prejudice of the absent — Maurice was superseded, in 1245, by Sir John Fitz-GeofFrey, son of Geoffrey de Montmorres. This change revived the turbulent designs of the Ulster chief, and Sir John was speedily involved in hostilities which occupied his entire administration. It was only by the dissensions of these restless chiefs that he was enabled to subdue this obstinate top- arch ; the jealousies and enmities of the neighbouring chiefs afforded willing aid against a powerful and perhaps oppressive neighbour. Maurice died on the 20th May, 1257, in the habit of St Francis, and was buried at Youghal, in a friary of his own foundation.^ Lodge mentions that this friary was built in consequence of a very slight in- cident. " Beiup- about to build a castle in the town, and the work- men who were digging the foundation, on the eve of some festival, requesting a piece of money to drink his health, he directed his eldest son to give it, who, instead of obeying, abused the workmen; at which he was so concerned that he altered his design, and changed the castle into a friary, taking upon himself the habit of the ordei."|l With Gerald, the grandson of this eminent warrior, (who, it is said, was drowned in passing to England during the chief-justiceship of Sir Kobert de Ufford,) the elder line of Ophaly failed, and the barony ]>assed, as appears by an inquisition in the reign of Edward III., by his bequest, while yet a minor, and dnring his father's life, to John Fitz- Thonias, descended from Thomas, younger l)rother of the subject of this notice, and founder of tiie house of Desmond. Tlie arrangement mavith freezing snow. When the party dis- patched by O'Byrne came up, they were found nearly insensible ; and for some time resisted all efforts to rouse them from a sleep which, had it been protracted but a little longer, must have ended in death. In the language of the old biographer, " the sleeping coverlet that en- veloped their tender skin, and the bolster that supported their heads was a high roll of white-bordered hail, freezing on all sides of them ; covering their light vests and shirts of fine thread, encompassing their bodies, their well-proportioned thighs, their wooden shoes, and their feet, so that they appeared to those that came in search of them, not like men, but as sods of earth after being- rolled in the snow; for there was no motion in their members, and they were lifeless as if they were really dead." Art O'Neale was past recovery; but Hugh Roe gradually revived, so as to be able to swallow a portion of the ardent spirit which they poured into his mouth. He quickly regained his strength, but his feet were chilled beyond the power of any remedy they could apply, and they were under the necessity of carrying him away to Glenmalur. In Glenmalur, he continued for some time concealed in a private house, in the covert of a thick wood, where the physician that was employed to heal his frost-bitten feet might have constant egress, and also where he mig-ht be free from the noise and bustle of a small fort, during his illness. But his safety was sedulously watched over and all his wants supplied by the care of O'Byrne. A messenger was dispatched to his guardian and kinsman, Hugh O'Neale, and it was not long before he was sent for. He was, however, not yet healed, and it was found necessary to lift him on his horse. O'Byrne sent a strong guard with him, to protect him until he should have passed the Liffey, at all the fords of which strong guards were jJosted by govern- ment, which, having received information of the place of O'Donell's concealment, made arrangements to intercept him. Notwithstanding these precautions, his party crossed the Liftey, near Dublin, without being perceived. Having passed this ford, the party separated, and Hugh remained alone with O'Hogan, the servant who had been sent for him. This man was a confidential servant of Hugh O'Neale; he could speak English, and was commonly sent by his master Ui Dublin, to com- municate with his numerous English friends. He was, therefore, here a useful guide, and knew well how to avoid real danger, and seize with confidence the safest ways. Travelling through the night, they crossed the county of Meath, and near morning, came to the river Boyne, near Drogheda. Their way lay through this town, but they feared the risk of being recognised, and therefore they turned from the road, towards the banks of the rivei', where there was a poor fisherman's hut. The man was at the moment loading his boat, when the fugitives calling him aside, asked him to row them across, promis- ing a recompense ; he agreed, and landing them on the other side, received a liberal reward. In gratitude for this, the poor man then re-crossed the river, and brought their horses through the town, to where they waited at the landing-place. They rode on a little way, until they came to the dwelling of a wealthy Englishman, who fox'tunately chanced to be a steadfast friend of the earl of Tyrone. Here they entered freely, and were received with all hospitable care. A secret chamber was fitted for Hugh Roe, and he was enabled to rest that day and the following, after all his fatigue. On the evening of the next day, as it grew dusk, they once more mounted their horses, and began their journey over the hill of Slieve Breagh, in the county of Louth, which they crossed, until they came to Dundalk. It was, fortunately, still early in the morning, and they were thus enabled to cross the town without being noticed; this course they preferred, as they were aware that the English had stationed soldiers to watch for Hugh Roe on either side, wherever there was any possibility of his passing ; but it struck Hugh that they would not suspect so bold a course as that which he now wisely select- ed. They passed through, therefore, without any halt, and felt a sense of thankful secui-ity that the danger was now all over. They stood on the territory of Hugh O'Neale, earl of Tyrone. It is needless to pursue the remainder of their progress from friend to friend, until they reached their immediate destination, the abode of the earl. He, though rejoiced to see Hugh Roe, was compelled to observe a strict secrecy during his guest's sojourn, as he was himself in subjection to the English government. Nothing was, however, neglected to contribute to the comfort and refreshment of Hugh Roe, who remained with his kinsman until he was quite recovered from all sense of fatigue. We shall not follow him in the short eventless journey which brought him to his own father's castle, at Ballyshannon, on the river Erne. Here he was received with enthusiasm by the people of his own tribe, who honoured him as their future prince. These people were at the time in a state of great distress. O'Donell's father was very old, and little capable of the active eftbrts necessary to keep his own people in subjection, or to repress the incursions of the English from the province of Connaught- The biographer of O'Donell mentions, that a party of English had taken possession of the monastery of the order of St Francis, which stood near O'Donell's; they amounted to two hundred men, under the command of captains Willes and Convilie. From the stronghold thus seized, they made plundering parties, and exercised considerable power over the country. According to the Irish biographer, O'Donell sent word to them to HUGH ROE O'DONELL. 329 leave the monastery, to quit the district of his father, and leave ail their plunder behind, lo this they felt themselves under the neces- sity of submitting-, and their submission was attributed to the terror of the youthful chieftain's name and reputation; but it is probable, that having, with so small a force taken up the position, on the ground when there was no danger from the divided and dispirited population of the surrounding country — they had the sagacity to estimate justly the change of circumstances attending on the new enthusiasm, union and spirit, awakened by the presence of a spirited young leader. Pre- pai-atory to this message, Hugh Roe called upon the people of Tyr- connel to meet, and they were fast flocking in from every side. Some months, however, elapsed before Hugh Koe found himself in a condition for any decided step. His feet were yet unhealed, and he was obliged by his ulcerated chilblains, to submit to a tedious confine- ment under the care of his physicians ; and it was in opposition to their advice, that, when the spring was far advanced, he again sent forth a summons to the chiefs and people of Tvrconnel, to meet him on the west side of a lofty hill in Donegal. The ancient MS. pro- ceeds to enumerate at length, the numerous chiefs who flocked together at the sunnnons ; amoiigst the assembly were his father and mother, a woman distinguished for her masculine virtues and political ability. It was, perhaps, by the influence of this lady, that on this occasion it was unaiumously agreed to by the assembly, with the consent of his old father, to raise Hugh Roe to the chieftainship. He was, therefore, solemnly inaugurated on the spot. Before he allowed the force, thus brought together, to sei^arate, Hugh Roe determined on a probationary essay of his strength in an expedition into the neighbouring- territory of Cincal Owen, the clan of Tirlogh Lynnogh O'Neale, who was then liostile to O'Donell's tribe, as well as to the earl of Tyrone. We shall not delay to describe particulars, which were in no way memorable ; nor shall we detail a second incursion into the same district, when the conquei'ing progress of O'Donell was stayed by the remonstrance of a chief who asserted tlie claim of having been once his fosterer: on w hich, the chief returned home to Donegal, where he was again com- pelled to place himself under the care of his physicians for two months. At the end of this time, he once more collected his men and invaded the same territory, and marching- on to Strabane, he set fire to the town. They here found and drove away a large prey of horses, and returned home unmolested by Tirlogh Lynnogh and the English party which he entertained in his castle of Strabane. The earl of Tyrone, in the mean time, made a journey to Dublin, where lord Fitz- William was lord-justice, and made an earnest appli- cation in behalf of O'Donell, that he should be admitted to the king's peace. The lord-justice assented, and a meeting between him and O'Donell was appointed at Stradbally. O'Donell was found by the earl on his sick bed; the physicians, unable to prevent the spreading of the dreadfid ulcers on his feet, were obliged to have recourse to a desjierate remedy, and his great toes were both amputated. It was with no small difliculty that he was persuaded to consent to the ar- i-angement made by his kinsman; but he yielded, and the meeting took place, when he was received with kindness by the lord-justice, 330 THE O'DONELLS OF TYRCONNEL. who, considering his present illness, visited him in his own quarters. The arrangement was then satisfactorily completed, and a protection, dictated by the earl of Tyrone, was subscribed by the lord-justice and council. The result was, in other resjoeets, satisfactory to O'Donell ; the tribes of Cincal Conail came in to proffer their submission, and agreed to pay him his dues as their rightful king. O'Donell, therefore, now began to govern his extensive territories according to the ancient laws of the land. At this period, his historian, the eye-witness of his life and deeds, gives this quaint account of his character. " Hugh O'Donell, on the very first year of his goverimient, was popular, familiar, joyous, progressive, attentive, devastating, invasive, and destructive; and in tliese qualities he continued to increase every year to the end of his days."* It was not in the nature of O'Donell to remain in tranquillity. The peace he had made was politic, but his heart still burned with the sense of those injuries, of which he bore the lasting marks about him. He had now settled his affairs on the securest footing, by a peace with his troublesome neighbour Tirlogh Lynnogh; and, feeling himself free to pursue his favourite design, he soon began to lay broad and deep foundations for war against the English government. With this view, he sent the bishop of Kilala as his ambassador to Spain ; he also sent active envoys into Scotland, and took every means to excite and com- bine the restless and turbulent spirits around him, into a participation of his purpose. Of these, Hugh ^M'Guire, the chief of a district near Lough Erne, a man of daring character, was easily roused by the secret instigation of O'Donell, to collect his dependents, and make an assault on a strong place held by the English. M'Guire, by the friendly aid of a dark morning, surprised a patrol, of which he slew seven men, with their officer, " William Clifford." The incident drew down a destructive retaliation; "the lord-deputy sent a strong- body of men under the conunand," writes the old biographer, " of the earl of Tyrone, who was not much pleased with the office." This force meet- ing M'Guire and his men at the ford of Ath Chuile nain, a river running from Lough Erne, gave them a severe and decisive overthrow. " The Irish," writes the biographer, " were unprepared to oppose the English with their exotic armour, their pikes of blue iron, and their guns of granulated sparks," &c. They were completely routed. The earl of Tyrone considered that his own dou'btful fidelity was concealed by a wound which excused his inactivity to the English. The deputy recalled his army, having left a small party to protect one of the M'Guires, who was at enmity with his kinsman. O'Donell, all this time, concealed his designs by a politic reserve, and as they did not attack himself, avoided the useless risk of his plan, by any premature display of hostility. In this prudent course he was confirmed by the advice of his friend the earl, with whom he held an intercourse by secret messengers.f in 1594, the lord-justice marched l)y surjjrise into the county of Fer- managh, and took the castle of Hugh M'Guire, without resistance, and * MS., R. I. A., p. 41. f MS this he garrisoned with thirty men, O'Donell began to feel ashamed of his prudent delays, and, collecting a strong body of men, he laid siege to the fortress of Eniskillen. While he was thus engaged, he received a message from the Scottish leaders, M'Donald and M'Leod, to inform him of their having landed with five hundred men, and de- siring his immediate presence. O'Donell, after some hesitation, left his army under the wails of Eniskillen, and went to meet his allies. The appearance of the Scotch is described with amusing accuracy, by the biographer, who probably accompanied his lord on the occasion. " The outward clothing they wore, was a mottled garment, with numerous colours, hanging in folds to the calf of tbe leg, with a girdle round the loins, over the garment. Some of them with horn-hafted swords, large and military, over their shoulders. A man, when he had to strike with them, was obliged to apply both his hands to the haft. Others with bows, well polished, strong, and serviceable, with long twanging, hempen strings, and sharp-pointed arrows that whizzed in their flight."* Meantime, the English governor had sent a strong party to the re- lief of Eniskillen ; they were intercepted by M'Guire, who lay in am- bush for them near a difficult ford. A sharp conflict ensued, in which the English were worsted, and compelled to retire, leaving behind the provisions which they were bringing to the relief of the fort. From this encounter, the ford received the name of the Ford of Biscuits i^Beal-aha-nam-riiicoict,).^ The scene of this fray was in the hills between Cavan and Leitrim. George Bingham, who led the English party, with difficulty escaped over the heights, and made his way to Sligo; in consequence of this disaster, the castle of Eniskillen was surrender- ed to M'Guire. O'Donell, with his allies, remained for some months unoccupied in the vicinity of Lough Erne, but in continual expectation of an attack from the lord-justice. This nobleman was by no means master of the means for putting a sufficient force in motion, and perceived that the most efficient course must be, to let the armament of the Tyrconnel chief consume its strength in quiet. According-ly, after continuing encamped from August to October, O'Donell found it necessary to dissolve for the season his expensive armament; and having paid the Scotch their hire, he dismissed them till the beginning of the next summer. Early in the spring of 1594, O'Donell I'eceived strong- and pressing- applications from the chiefs of Connaught, who swarmed to his castle, and represented the entire and melancholy subjugation of that province. It was completely held in awe by the numerous English garrisons by which all its strong positions were taken up, under the connnand of Sir Richard Bingham. The discontent of the native chiefs was com- pelled to be still ; but they looked with a stern and gloomy anxiety on the conduct and character of O'Donell, as offering a hope of vengeance, though it should bring no redress. O'Donell, on his part, was not be- hind them in the same vindictive craving. We are told by his faith- ful and friendly biographer, that " his hatred and rage against the * i\lS. p. 53. + MS. lb. English was sueli, that it was easy to tempt him to pillage and plunder them for the defence of the others "* He therefore entered with the full animosity of his temper and character, into the spirit of the Connaught chiefs, and planned his first attack on Rath Crochan, in " the very centre of the English, where they had collected their herds and cattle."f The principal positions of the English in Con- naught were well selected, in the most difficult passes; the old his- torian describes them by their ancient denominations: " in the castle on the banks of the old i-iver from which flows the flood, that is after it, called the Sligo"| — the fortress of Ballimote, near the hill of Reis- corran; in Newport, between Lough Rea and Lough Arrow; on the river Boyle; and in Tulske; Sir Richard Bingham kept his head quar- ters at Roscommon. To pass through these well-disposed positions un- observed, at the head of the warlike tribes of Tyrconnel, was the highest test of O'Donell's consumuiate mastery of the light-footed and freeboot- ing tactics of the ancient Irish, while it also indicates the strong and universal devotion of the people to the cause in which he moved; and the tenacious discretion of the peasantry, still so perceptible a feature of their character, was represented in the rapid march which spread devastation without awakening the vigilance of numerous military posts. In a long nightly march, O'Donell "passed over the deserts and wastes of the country, without being observed or heard," to the banks of the river Boyle, which they crossed at nightfall, at Knoc- briar ; from this they took their silent way, winding through ]\Ioylurg, and on through Maghair, and Trinbhear-nuigh, till at day-break they reached the Cruachin of Rathair, in the near vicinity of the royal fortress. Here they halted, and, dispersing- in every direction, they collected the cattle of the English, and drove them off unmolested to Elphin, where O'Donell lay. " It was a long time," writes the seci'e- tary, " before this, that an equal assemblage of spoils, the plunder of one day, had been collected together in one place, by any one of the descendants of Goodhal glas the son of NialL"^ Of this incursion, Sir Richard Bingham received tardy intelligence, and drew tog'ether his troops from the difi"erent forts and castles, where they were distributed, and set forth fi'om Roscommon with the hope to intercept O'Donell in his passage over the Boyle. But the}' lost the track, and probably intending a short cut, they took a direc- tion during the night which completely separated them from the course pursued by O'Donell. This leader, in the meantime, sent otf all the useless hands in his camp, to drive his vast plunder over tlie Shannon, at the ford of Kiltrenan. Bingham, grieved at having '■' miss- ed the way" and pursued by O'Donell, sent messengers on every side to rouse the English to exertion. The consequence was, however, but a skirmish with some straggling parties of English, which had no result but that many men were hurt on both sides. (1595.) Early in the spring of the following year, O'Donell col- lected his people, and again took the same way to Connaught, which had on the previous year led him to .so many bloodless triumphs. His biographer details at length the course and incidents of his march, * MS. p ;)7. t Ibiil. I Ibid. § Ibid. p. 58. HUGH ROE O'DONELL. 333 and gives the particulars of an elaborate and dexterous manoeuvre for the surprise of an English garrison in the monastery of Boyle. Placing his army in ambush near the monastery, he sent a small party to drive away their cattle, with the design of seizing the monastery as soon as the garrison should have left it for the purpose of rescuing their cattle. The garrison, however, were in due time apprized of their design, and O'Donell was obliged to content himself with taking all that he had left behind on the last occasion. He plundered the two Annaly's, and " did not leave a beast of any kind of cattle from the mountains of Uillim red-edged, the son of Fionn, which is called Slieve Carbry at this day, to Glas Bearramoin, the place which is called Eithne, the place where was drowned Eithne, the daughter of Eochaidh Feidhlioch."* On this course, such was the violence of their devastations, that the smoke of their burning often caused O'Donell's troops to take panic from mistaking their own company for the enemy. The last exploit on this occasion was the capture of the castle of Longford O'Ferral ; which was held by a garrison under Christopher Browne. The castle is described as impregnable, and Browne as a giant in prowess; notwithstanding which serious difficulties, O'Donell made himself master of the place, and of the person of its captain. Most of the garrison were killed, and many who escaped the sword were destroyed by the fire of the town: among the latter were six- teen hostages of the gentlemen of the country. Four other castles were also burnt by this party on the same day. From this O'Donell and his men turned homeward; they had more cattle than they found it easy to drive; cattle and men were weary, and a long distance lay before them; and the faithful secretary, the attendant of his master's excursions, complains that the " sleep of Hugh O'Donell was not plea- sant nor heavy during that week." Their progress more resembled a moving procession of the fair of Ballinasloe, than any thing which modern nations may conceive of the march of a triumphant army. New troubles awaited O'Donell. He received from his friend, the earl of Tyrone, a message informing him that the lord-justice, Sir William Russel, had obtained information of his secret favour to O'Donell's designs, and that he had in consequence sent a thousand English into Tyrone, to operate as a check on his conduct. On receiving this information, O'Donell mai-ched directly into Tyrone, and encamped in the plain of Foehart, where in days of old "the illus- trious Cuchullin performed his valorous exploits ;" there they continued to await the approach of the lord-justice. It would be rather tedious to pursue the minute details of operations which led to no result. During O'Donell's stay in Tyrone, his own country was plundered by George Bingham, who had retired with the rich plunder of the church of St Mary and that of St Columb, before O'Donell could come to their relief, and returned to Sligo. Here, however, Ulick Bourke, son of Redmond, son of Ulick of the Heads, anxious to oblige O'Donell, took the town and sent for him. O'Donell came and received possession of it with great satisfaction ; and after placing a strong garrison in the castle, he returned home and remained * MS. p. 64. 334 THE O'DONELLS OF TYRCONNEL. at rest till August, when he received intellig'ence that M'Leod of vli-i-aii was arrived in Lough Foyle with six hundred Scots to join him. The prince immediately went to meet his allies, and remained with them for three months. During this interval various preparations were made, and they marched into Connaught, where O'Donell obtained possession of some fortresses and strong places ; and, as usual, collected an immense booty. Hearing that Sir Richard Bingham was in pur- suit of him, O'Donell justly concluded that it would not be safe to await a collision with the English army, while his own force was dis- qualified by the incumbrance of their spoil. Reaching Sligo, they were enabled to place the spoil in safety, but had to encouuter the defiance of a party of English who were in the neighboui'hood, under a relation of Sir Richard Bingham. For these O'Donell planned an ambush, but an accident defeated his purpose; the English were in fierce pursuit of a party of horsemen who had been detached for the very purpose of drawing- them on to the hollow where the ambush lay. One of these pretended fugitives happened to be mounted on a slow horse, and was thus overtaken by the English leader; as a last resource, the man discharged an arrow which, striking his pursuer on the breast where his armour had been ill riveted, indicted a fatal wound. By this accident the pursuit was arrested, and the English escaped the trap that had been laid for their destruction. Sir Richard Bingham, enraged at the death of his nephew, immediately marched against the castle of Sligo, which he assailed with all the resources of ancient strategy. The biographer describes the moving castle, built from the spoils of the monastery, and filled with armed men, which was over night wheeled close to the walls ; he also describes the besieged within rolling- down large stones and shooting bullets through the loop-holes, until the besiegers were compelled to abandon their vain attempt, and raise the siege. When Bingham had returned to Roscommon, Hugh O'Donell came back and razed the castle of Sligo to the ground, from a fear that the English might otherwise obtain possession of it. From the same motive he also destroyed thirteen other castles in Connaught. Many of the Irish chiefs at this time flocked about him as their only protec- tion; and many who had been entirely divested of their possessions were taken care of in his province. He spent the remainder of the year in adjusting the pretensions, and reconciling the differences of the De Burgos, of the Mac William family, and others of the chiefs who acknowledged his superior authority. He was still at home, when, in the summer of 1596, he received an envoy from Philip H., king of Spain. On his landing, this Spaniard, whose name was Alonzo Copis, was conducted by many of the chiefs to LiflPord, to O'Donell, who entertained him for three days. He had been sent to inquire into the condition of the Irish, and about their recent wars with the English: he was also empowered to promise assistance in his master's name. On their part O'Donell and his allies made suitable representations, and implored the early assistance of the Spanish king, oft'ering " to become subjects to him, and his descendants after him." From Mac William, in the following- June, he received an account that Sir John Norris was encamped on the HUGH ROE O'DONELL. 335 borders of Connaught, with the purpose of completely reducing it. O'Donell collected his own troops, and appointed a meeting with numerous other chiefs near the English camp. But the English had been consuming their provision; and, being* thus for a considerable time deterred from their purpose by the presence of a numerous force (which they could not bring to an action), were oblig'ed to relinquish their plan and retire. The Irish had within the hist few years made a I'apid progress in the arms and arts of war, and, by the activity and influence of O'Donell, the chiefs were becoming- united. These considerations disquieted the council and lord-justice. They had also heard of the king of Spain's designs, which they probably understood more fully than the native chiefs whom he desired to render instrumental to his policy. It was therefore thought expedient to send invitations to O'Neale and O'Donell to enter into terms of peace with the English government. For this purpose the earl of Ormonde and the arch- bishop of Cashel were sent with liberal offers, which, as they were not accepted, we need not detail. " They related to them the conditions which the council proposed respecting the peace, viz., that they should have the entire possession of the province of Conor, except that part of the county extending from Dundalk to the Boyne, which w^as pos- sessed by the English for a long time; and that the English should not pass beyond the hill, except that the English of Carrickfergus should be free from plunder by this agreement for ever, and the English of Carlingford iind Newry to have the same privilege ; and that the English government should not send any officer as a gover- nor over them, nor in any other way force any rent or taxes upon them, except whatever tax their ancestoi's used to pay," &c.* The parties on either side met on a hill near Dundalk ; Ormonde delivered his errand, and when he had done, O'Donell and O'Neale retired to consult. O'Donell represented strongly all the wrongs they had suf- fered from the English, and insisted there was no faith to be given to their promises ; he also referred to their treaty with the king of Spain, and the danger of losing his countenance and assistance for ever after, should they now deceive him. With this view some of the chiefs agreed; while others, less resentful and more cautious, told him that they would be sorry if they refused the offers of government. O'Donell's voice outweighed all resistance, and Ormonde and the bishop returned to Dublin. On this, writes the biographer, the queen ordered large preparations for an Irish war. Bingham was recalled from Connaught, and Sir Conyers Clifford sent over. The munificence and popular manners of this gentleman conciliated many of the Connaught chiefs. Among those who joined him were O'Conor Roe, and Macdermot of Moylung. and O'Conor Sligo; of whom the latter had been at the English court, and came over in command of a body of English. O'Donell conunenced by a plundering inroad upon the territories of O'Conor Sligo, after which he encamped in Brefne of Connaught, to await the coming up of his friends. Upon being joined by these, * MS 336 THE O'DONELLS OF TYRCONNEL. he marched ag-aiiist Athenry. There he was joined by Mac William Bourke, and they stormed the fort, which they took with consideral)le loss of life on both sides. Their loss was compensated by a very rich plunder of every kind of riches, " of brass, of iron, of armour, of cloth- ing, and of every thing that was useful to the peoj)le."* From this they sent their plundering jJarties through Clauricarde, and laid waste all the country to the gates of Gal way. Near Gal way they encamped at Lynch's causeway, and O'Donell proceeded to the monastery of the hill at the gates of that city, in order to exchange their plunder for arms and for more portable wealth, as he should be thus enabled to extend his operations when disencmiibered of the vast droves of cattle which embarrassed all his movements. In this he failed, and was therefore compelled to direct his march homewards across the " centre of Connaught." On his way he had a skirmish with O'Couor Sligo, over whom he gained a slight advantage; in this affair a son of Mac William Boui'ke was slain. O'Donell proceeded home and suffered his own troops to disperse that they might rest; but left his mercenaries with the Connaught chiefs, to cari-y on the war with O'Conoj", under the command of Niall O'Donell, a near kinsman of his own. This chief continued the work of plunder, which was carried on chiefly to compel the Connaught chiefs to return to O'Donell. By this means a few were gained to his party. About April, a Spanish ship arrived bearing a small force to O'Donell. Landing in the harbour of Killibegs, they marched to Donegal, where they were munificently entertained. " He presented them with hounds and horses; they then returned carrying with them an account of the situation of the country ."■!■ We pass the details of a desultory struggle, in which Mac William Bourke was repeatedly expelled from his territories by a rival claimant with the aid of the Lnglish. About midsummer, a new lord-justice, Thomas lord Borough, was sent over by the queen. He ordered Cliftbrd to march into Tyrcon- nel without delay. He was joined by the earl of Thomond, and Clan- ricarde, O'Conor Sligo, and O'Conor Roe, and a strong reinforcement of English troops sent by the lord-justice, so that, to use the descrip- tion of the secretary, there were "twenty-two regiments of foot-soldiers, and ten regiments of cavalry of chosen troops, with their strong coats of hardened iron, with their strong-rivetted, long-bladed, strong-hafted spears, with loud-voiced sharp-sighted guns, and with sharp swords of hardened blades and handsome firmly-fixed hafts, and with crooked combed helmets."^ This army marched by Sligo to the banks of the Samer, all the fords of which were strongly guarded by O'Donell — • they resolved to pass at the ford of Cuil-uain-an-tsainre. Here they passed, notwithstanding a bloody resistance, in which Morogh O'Brien, baron of Inchicpiin, was shot in the middle of his men, and died in the water. The Eng-lish marched to the brink of Easroe, where they encamped to await the artillery which the governor had ordered to be brought by sea from Galway. On Sunday these arrived in Lough Erne, and they proceeded to batter the fortress on the brink of Ath * MS. t Ibid. t Ibid. HUGH ROE O'DONELL. 337 Seiiiiaigh. Of this affair, the account given by O'Donell's biographer compels us to suspect that his estimate of the English force must be a violent exaggeration, as he tells us that they were routed by the fire of the fort. According to the prolix account of our MS. biographer, Hugh O'Donell contrived so dexterously to surround the English on every .'^ide, to cut off stragglers, and to intercept supplies, that in some days tliey found it necessary to retreat ; but were so enfeebled with their long watohings, and nisuthcient food, that the retreat through a hostile territory was become dangerous and ditficult. The Irish had now, by the care of O'Donell, arrived at a high state of discipline, and were become formidable antagonists to fucouiiter in the charge. Under these trying circumstances, the only course which remained was to cross the Samer at a deep and dangerous ford, to which none but the best and bravest knights were held equal. Here the English army crossed with the loss of many, who were carried down by the force of the waters. They were also attacked by a brisk tire from O'Donell, which they had no means to return, and which destroyed many; and to crown their misfortunes, they were compelled to abandon the whole of their artillery and military stores which could not be carried across. O'Donell led his troops over one of the fords which he had in his possession, and coming again up with the English, who were in a most deplorable condition, there ensued a desultory exchang'e of fire with considerable loss on both sides, but without any decisive result, until both were compelled to cease from fatigue, or the approach of night warned them to desist. The English reached Sligo, and O'Donell marched home. Not long after, O'Donell received a summons to march to the aid of O'Neale. The English lord-justice was come to Armagh, by Drog- heda and Dundalk, with an army. O'Donell lost no time ; ajid then, according to the new system of tactics which seems to have been chiefly adopted by him, the English were soon surrounded on every side by bodies of Irish, who distressed them with perpetual assaults after the manner of the cossacks in modern war, allowing them to have no sleep or rest by night or day. On this occasion it chanced that the lord-justice took a small party to reconnoitre the country from a hill top at some small distance from his camp. Scarcely had they arrived at the summit when they were attacked by a strong- party of Irish. The lord-justice and the earl of Kildare, who had accom- panied him, received wounds of which they died in a few days after, and their guard escaped, with the loss of many, to the camp. The English, deprived of their leaders, found it necessary to retire. The remainder of the year 1597, and the commencement of the next, were chiefly employed by O'Donell in a plundering- excursion into Connaught, against O'Conor Roe ; and also in compelling- O'Rourke, whose politics were unsettled, to join the native party. But he shortly received a complaint from O'Neale, of the great incon- venience he sustained from a fort which the English had erected some time before on the great river* north of Armagh, and garrisoned * Tlie Blackwater : this fort was long contcsteil by tlie earl of Tyrone, being the key to his country. I. Y Ir. 338 THE O'DONELLS OF TYRCONNEL. with three hundred men. After some useless assaults, O'Neale con- trived to cut otf the means of supply, and the fort soon became reduced to great distress. On hearing this the government sent an army of five thousand men to their relief. O'Donell soon joined his ally, and the two armies, in a state of complete preparation, confronted each other in battle array. The biographer of O'Donell tells the whole of the array and preparations on both sides, and the speech with which O'Donell cheered his followers. He assured them of the victory on the strong ground of the justice of their cause. They were still further encouraged by the prophecy of a " prophetic saint who could not tell a lie, ' and ii is added by the simplicity of the biographer, that " he who first showed this prophecy of the saint, was a famous poet, who had an extraordinary talent for invention. His name was Ferfeas O'Clery." O'Donell drew up his army opposite to the English, and behind a line of deep trenches which he caused to be dug. Here he ordered that the charge of the English should be awaited. The result was according to his expectations: when the English came on, the force of their charge was broken by the interruption thus offered. While they were so arrested, O'Donell caused them to be attacked on both flanks. To resist this the English were obliged to weaken their centre, and their line was broken by O'Donell's men, who rushed with impetuosity in among their thinned ranks. This might have been counteracted by the superiority of the English tactics and armour ; but an accidental occurrence turned the fortune of the day. A soldier whose ammuni- tion was exhausted, went to supply himself at a powder barrel; and in doing this he let fall a spark of fire from his match into the powder. An explosion w'as the instant consequence : several score of barrels of powder blew up, spreading desti'uction and terror from the centre to the utmost flanks of the English. The field was for sometime in total dark- ness, and as it cleared away it appeared that the English general and most of his staff were slain. The English were scattered, and the leaders on the opposite side seeing and seizing on the occasion, poured in amongst them, insulating them into small groups, and cutting them to pieces in detail; so that half their number was lost, and of the rest few escaped unhurt. Such was the battle of the Yellow-ford. In consequence of this tremendous loss, Armagh was surrendered by the English; they were not allowed to take their arms, the com- mander alone excepted. O'Donell completed the operations of this year by compelling the MacDonoghs to sell him the town and castle of Ballymote.* They had been for several years in possession of the castle, which stood on their own patrimony, and had been accustomed to make it a repositoi-y for the plunder of the surrounding country. It was now% however, to be apprehended that it might fall into the hands of the English. To prevent this, O'Donell resolved to obtain possession, and gave the MacDonoghs the equitable price of £400 and three hundred cows. Here he took up his residence. His numerous expeditions in a southern direction seem to have made this change desirable on the score of * On the north hank of the Moync, a, river between tlie counties of Mayo and Sliffo. convenience. And it also placed him in a position more favourable to the eiilai'gement ot" his apparent prospects, as occupying a position more central, more within the range of a country over which he might hope, by the expulsion of the English, and the forfeitures of their Irish allies, to obtain a wide-spreading- dominion, without interfering with the territories of the O'Neales and other northern chiefs, his faithful allies and kinsmen. A main part of his hopes rested on the support he expected from the alliance of Spain. Thither his eye was turned through life, for the effective aid which might be hoped for from the wealth and warlike reputation of the Spaniards, as also from the inveterate hostility be- tween the courts of Philip and Elizabeth. In the present year, 1598, he sent thither an ambassador to hasten this lingering but often pro- mised succour; after which, his restless activity found vent in an ex- pedition against Clanricarde, to which he had made a convenient ap- proximation of residence. Having overborne the now feeble resistance of the earl of Clanricarde, and slaughtered many of his men, he swept over Clanricarde and returned with his plunder to Ballymote. In the year following, the restless activity of O'Donell received a new direction. The Connaught chiefs having been spoiled year after year, until they had no longer any thing to lose, at last were allowed to enjoy the immunity of this dreary condition; and Red Hugh looked to the rich and well-stocked hills of Munster for the spoil which pil- laged Comiaught could no longer supply. There were for this other motives no less powerful than a love of plunder — the thirst for ven- geance. The earl of Thomond had joined with the English governor in his attack on TyrconneL With these intentions Red Hugh appointed a meeting of his forces and allies at Ballymote, and marched into Thomond on the 17th February, 1599- Spreading- his troops in the wonted maimer over the country, they swept together a vast booty of cattle of every kind, took the castle of Inchiquin, with many others, and returned home with the plunder of the whole country, having left almost nothing behind. This was the work of about twelve days, during which the invaders met no check. In the following June, O'Donell's emissary to Spain returned in a Spanish vessel, laden with a su[)ply of arms, which were distributed between O'Donell and his ally, the earl of Tyrone. The lord-lieutenant had in the meantime suffered his activity to be wasted by rebels of much less immediate impox-tance. He overran Leix and Ophaly with a large army, and retui-ned to Dublin. His force was thus weakened unnecessarily, and he was compelled to apply for a reinforcement for the purpose of invading the insui-gent chiefs of Ulster. In pursuance of this duty, he directed the president of Connaught to approach Belick to menace the earl of Tyrone on that side, while he himself should attack him on the other. Sir Conyers Clifford marched with 1500 men, and taking his way as directed, was met in a pass of the Curlew mountains by a party of Irish which Ware, Cox, Leland, and most other writers who mention the circum- stance, describe as led by O'Rourke, who i.s not mentioned in the account of the Irish historian. Assuming each party to have known best the circumstances of their own side, and taking the particulars in 340 THE O'DONELLS OF TYRCONNEL. which they agree, the following is the narration nearest to probability: Hugh O'Donell, having heard that he was to be attacked by Sir Conyers, in concert with O'Conoi- Sligo, and presently discovering that O' Conor was in the castle of Coolmine, on the banks of the Avonmore, proceeded at once to invest that castle with his troops. Sir Conyers, either proceeding according to the orders above stated, or as the MS. historian asserts, detached to the relief of O'Conor, marched towards the pass of the Curlews as mentioned. O'Donell, leaving a sufficient force at the castle, led a considerable division to wait for the enemy at this post of advantage. Having occupied these mountain passes, O'Donell detached a party to prevent one of the Bourkes from landing, and by these operations weakened his force. He had ^Iready waited here for two months, when Clifford, having collected such additional men as he could, came up, and a battle began, in which, according to the English account, a party of the Irish were repulsed; but the English grew slack in ammunition, and the Irish, who had perhaps concentrated in the meantime from different parts of the Curlew range, finding this want of the English, and perhaps also taking them at disadvantage in the pass, they charged with renewed vigour, and succeeded in gaining a victory — having slain Clifford and several officers. From this O'Donell derived for a time additional confi- dence, and his reputation increased among the chiefs. O'Conor Sligo sent to treat with him; and Theobald Bourke entered also into a treaty, and submitted to him on his own terms. O'Donell pursued his advantage, arid raised a contribution on the towm of Galway.* In 1600, his friend, Hugh M'Guire, lord of Fermanagh, was slain in a battle fought between Warham St Leger and O'Neale, on which the people of Fermanagh assembled to elect a chief. One of the family, Conor Roe M'Guire, was supported by O'Neale, to whom he was half brother. The other claimant, Cuchonaght M'Guire, sought the interest of O'Donell. When O'Donell received letters from O'Neale, informing him of what w^as going on, and bespeaking his vote, O'Donell kept a discreet silence as to his intentions ; but, with a select party of horse and foot, he took with him his brother Rory, and the rival candidate, and repaired to Dungannon, where O'Neale dwelt. When O'Donell appeared in the assembly, O'Neale made a speech, in which he expressed his own wish and appealed to O'Donell for his consent. To his great concern and perhaps surprise, O'Donell, after calmly hearing him out, declared that he could not consent to the election of Conor, on the ground of his having been the constant adherent of the English. His declaration very nmch chagrined O'Neale; but O'Donell's voice had now become the voice potential. The decision was for Cuchonaght. The feast which seems to have completed the election is thus described: — " After the breaking up of the council, they w ere entertained at a splendid feast by O'Neale, at which he placed O'Donell in the most honourable situation, and Conor Roe M'Guire next to him. O'Neale took a cup of wine and drank to O'Donell, who, taking another cup from the butler, cast a quick glance through the room, and not seeing Cuchonaght M'Guire, desired that he should be culled in. This was done; and when Cuchonaght came in. Red Hugh • Sir William Betham, Ware, Leland. desired him to sit down by his brother Rory in the midst of the com- pany. When Cuchonaght was seated, O'Donell took the cup in his hand, and drank to him by the name of M'Guire. This was followed by several others ; and thus was Cuchonaght declared the M'Guire, which none opposed, seeing it was O'Donell's desire. On the next morning O'Donell bade farewell to O'Neale, and he and M'Guire and their people returned to their homes." In reading the life of O'Donell at this period, a slig-ht and pai'tial view of the affairs of the country is all that can be expected. It is to be recollected, that although the historian on whose account the whole of our notice is grounded, was an eye-witness, we may yet, without questioning his veracity, assume that he saw only that aspect of the stormy events which occupied the whole of his master's life, which connected itself with the acts and influence of this chief. O'Donell so far as his historian could see, was the prime mover in a fierce strug- gle, of which a more detached observer might have observed that he only bore a part — a chief part, it is true. He was one amongst three or four powerful and warlike partizans, whose talent and resolu- tion for a moment nearly poised the scale of contest against the power of Elizabeth. The follower of this chief was in some respects like the soldier who, in the tumult and confusion of a battle, sees but the move- ments of the division to which his regiment is attached, and conceives them to be the deciding charges of the fight, and the indications of victory or defeat. It is thus that we are struck with the extraordinary difference between the statements of this biographer and those of the general historian. While the events stated in these pages were in their course, some of the most considerable rebellions of which there is any account in Irish history, are related with minute detail by every historian; and while the earl of Tyrone in the north, and the Sugan earl in the south, are the theme of every chapter, and in fact fill volumes with their turbulent activity, O'Donell takes his place rather as a conspicuous partizan of the powerful Tyrone, than as the arbiter of elections and the marshal of the field. From this character of the curious and almost singular document which records the life of O'Donell, arises a necessity to take the statements of the writer with a caution which, w'ithout imjjugning his veracity, is yet doubtfid of his means of observation, and makes allowance for the spirit of clan- ship, and of attached service, that sees partially and trusts fondly. In the year 1599, there had been an increased activity on the part of the English government. The queen, alarmed by intelligence that the king of Spain, with whom she was at war, was preparing for the invasion of England, and that an army of 12,000 men was destined for Ireland, became seriously and justly alarmed for the safety of the latter. Under these impressions she had yielded to the specious persuasions of the earl of Essex ; and, listening rather to partiality than to sound judgment, she sent him over to mismanage the aftairs of a nation where prudence, caution, moderation, and sound discretion, as well as firmness and sagacity, were indispensably required. Essex was rash, luxurious, and vain, self-confident, and unreflecting; he possessed talent, but wanted the moral virtues which give a practical value to intellectual endowments. His military ardour and his fluent eloquence 342 THE O'DONELLS OF TYRCONNEL. were mistaken, and he was sent to a command where the mistake was likeliest to be soon detected. On his arrival in Dublin he enjoyed the gratification of military display; the "pomp and circumstance" of war fiUed his heart with confidence, and inflated his inconsiderate temper. He was not long allowed to indulge in the vain dream of conquest without toil and trouble. Those around him were more cor- rectly informed of the true state of the country, and Essex was apprized that the enemies with whom he had to contend were more numerous, better trained, and far more exercised in the field than his raw levies. At the time, the actual state of the Irish chiefs was this: — The earl of Tyrone, who was in reality at the head of the insurrection, occupied the north with a well-disciplined and appointed army of six thousand men, while O'Douell, with an army not inferior in arms and training, was prepared to maintain the war in Connaught. IJoth were aided by many chiefs, of whom some were not much less formidable than themselves; while those who opposed them, and took part with the English, were chiefs of far less power and influence, who were mostly maintained in their authority and possessions by the protection of the government. There was at the time a general impression in favour of the insurgents, their cause and prospects, which was a main source of their strength. It was known to what an extent the Irish soldiery had profited by the lessons of their enemies. There was a universal reliance on Spain, and the rebellion had assumed a serious character. Such were the actual circumstances under which Essex entered on a misguided career of errors, of which we have already mentioned some of the chief consequences. .We shall have, in our notice of the earl of Tyrone, to take a view soinewliat more enhirged, of this period of our history, to which we must refer the reader. We must here endeavour, as far as is possible, to confine ourselves to the life of O'Donell. A change of administration gave a more favourable jispect to Irish aflFairs in the latter end of loyiJ. Lord Mountjoy was sent over as deputy, and Sir George Carew as president of Munster; and early in the following year, advantages vvere gained by these able commanders which struck misgiving and dismay through the hearts of the national leaders. A detachment which the president sent into Carbery, under the command of captain Flower, was intercepted by an ambush, yet obtained a signal victory over M'Carthy and O'Conor Carljery, the latter of whom was slain; in consequence of which M'Carthy and others sub- mitted. Meanwhile the lord Mountjoy garrisoned tlie northern towns. \mong these vigorous dispositions the historian of O'Donell con^fines his notice to those which more peculiarly afi'ected Tyrconnel and its neighbouring districts; and his statements, though strictly correct, exhibit in a curious niaiuier the confined and ignorant observation which we have endeavoured to describe. A body of men, stated at 6000 bv this writer, was embarked in Dublin, under the command of Sir Henry Dockwra, and, on the lOtli of May, arriving in Lough Foyle. landed in Inishowen, the land of O'Dogherty. Here they seized on the fort of Culmore, and fortified it, and parties Avere detached to Dunalong, in O'Kane's country, and to Derry, which were also seized, fortified and gai'risoned. HUGH ROE O'DONELL. 343 This judicious and serviceable disposition of force is otherwise inter- preted by our historian, who tells us that the English shut themselves up in their forts so as to afford O'Donell no opportunity of bringing them to action ; on which he, conceding the main object for which these garrisons were placed, resolved to leave O'Dogherty to take care of liimself, and marched away with the main body of his troops to punish the earls of Thomond and Clanricarde for joining the English, by the plunder of their estates. In this design, which was after all the most prudent under the actual circumstances, he was as usual eminently suc- cessful. Calling together his Connaught adherents, he swept away the cattle and property of every kind from both these districts, leaving unpillaged no house but the monasteries and other places of religious establishment ; and, dividing the spoil among his chiefs and allies, re- tm'ned home in triumph. Having rested his army for some months, O'Donell received intelli- gence that the English in Derry were in the custom of sending out their horses to graze daily, under the care of a very small party. He lost no time in sending a select body of horse under the cover of night to conceal themselves so as to be between the horses and the town, and another party were ordered to be in readiness to drive them off. Accordingly, when the Eiiglish detachment appeared next morning on the plain, they were surprized by an unexpected party of Irish, who began unceremoniously to drive away their horses. This proceeding soon attracted notice from the walls, and a large body came out precipitately to the rescue. O'Donell himself pressed for- ward, and was encountered by Dockwra in person, Avhom he wounded. The English were compelled to retire within the walls, and lost two hundred horses. O'Donell having waited to the end of October, in the vain expectation that the English would evacuate the fortresses and towns they held, left the country and repeated his former severe in- flictions on the lands of Thomond. The next important occurrence in the history of O'Donell is, the defection of his cousin and brother-in-law, Niall O'Donell. The im- portance of the event is as usual magnified by the Irish historian, who considerably overrates the efforts made by the deputy to gain over Niall, by high offers of command and treasiu-e ; and misre- presents equallv the sick and tired condition of the English, whom he describes as relieved by this treachery. The truth will better appear from a statement of the previous facts, which did not fall within the scope of this writer's design. On the 23d of April, previous to the circumstance last mentioned, lord Mountjoy gave a feast in celebration of St George's day, at which were present those chiefs whom the success of his military operations had induced to make their timely submissions to a conmiander who, it had become quite apparent, was not to be much longer resisted without destruction. These were mostly chiefs of an inferior class, but all of whom had a little before taken an active part in resistance. Their names are MacHenry, captain of the Fewes; Macooly, chief of the Fearny ; O'Hanlon, an Ulster chief; MacFeagh, chief of the O'Byrne's, and son to the war-like chief, of wliom we shall have much to relate — with Spaniagli, chief of the Kavenaglis. All tliese liad been 344 THE O'DONELLS OF TYRCONNEL. received to mercy on their submission. The kuidness with which they were entertained was an influential inducement, which led to the voluntary submission of many greater chiefs who were more im- mediately connected with the districts in an insurrectionary state — • these were M'Carthy Reagh of Carbery, O'Sullivan Bear and O'Sul- livan Bantry, with other less known chiefs, who came in to oft'er submis- sion, a step which they would not have dared if the great chiefs of Tyrone and Tyrconnel were in condition to call them to a reckon- ing. Shortly after a pardon was granted to Phelim MacFeagh O'Toole, and a protection to Ross MacMahon till he might sue for pardon. When the treachery of O'Donell's kinsman — for such we must ac- count it — is viewed in connexion with these and many similar facts which we might easily bring together, the defection is a sufficient evidence of a state of things, and of a general impression on the minds of the chiefs; and it becomes a high probability that, great as was the enthusiasm in favour of O'Donell, a strong tide of adverse fortune was generally perceived to be setting in against the cause for which he fought so ably, but with so little real t-csult. The greater part of the most distinguished of his exploits could have no immediate effect of any kind but to impoverish the lands of Thomond and Clanricarde which he plundered. The English held places of strength which he did not even attack — with small contingents of force, not designed to meet him in the field, but to secure these positions. This course, which O'Donell must have rightly understood, is evidently misconceived by the simplicity of his biographer, who treats it as the manifestation of weakness. We are the more particular in laying stress on this, because the curious MS. to which we advert, while it is invaluable for the internal view it gives of the manners and warfare of the day, is only calculated to mislead the antiquarian who might be led to treat it as history. O'Donell's brother-in-law, according to the biographer, having long continued proof against the extravagant offers of the English — vast treasures and the sovereignty of Tyrconnel — at last gave way, and drawing after him his brothers, Yellow Hugh and Conn-Oge, declared against the chief. The English were thus relieved from the neces- sity of a more laborious warfare. Niall O'Donell put them in posses- sion of Lifford, an ancient residence of O'Donell, at the time decayed. This the English fortified for themselves. O'Donell, on receiving this disastrous intelligence, marched to Lif- ford with a small army, and encamped within two miles of the fort, which they were yet completing. His presence had the disadvantage- ous effect of restricting their excursions, and lessening their means of subsistence. They, on their part, not having force equal to a battle, watched their opportunity and made a desperate sally, but failed to repulse the Irish, and were compelled to retire after a smart skirmish. In this encounter Manus O'Donell, Red Hugh's brother, received a mortal wound from the hand of the traitor Niall, who was himself wounded by Rory O'Donell. Manus lingered for seven days, and died on the 27th October, 1600. Having blockaded the English for some time longer, O'Donell learned that a vessel, bearing supplies from Spain, was arrived in the HUGH ROE O'DONELL. 345 harbour of Invermore. Sending messengers to O'Neale, he weiic to meet the Spanish envoy at Tirboghaine. On this occasion the sum of £6000 was sent over by the king of Sjjaiu, and divided between O'Donell and O'Neale. And in the beginning of January, IGOO, O'Donell, having consulted fully with the Spaniard on the affairs of the country, and doubtless concerted the next invasion from Spain, ' which occurred so soon after, returned to his camp at Lifford. While thus engaged, he received intimation that O'Conor Sligo had entered into an engagement to seize on his person and deliver him up to the English. Having conmmnicated this alarming intelli- gence to his friends, they resolved to prevent O'Conor's design by seizing himself. This was quickly effected, and he was sent to Lough Esk, and kept as a hostage. The movements of both parties which succeeded, as they had little or no result, are scarcely worth the narration. Many skirmishings and marchings took place without decisive issue. It was in the month of October that events occurred, which at first promising a favourable turn to the affairs of O'Donell, ended in their total ruin. A Spanish fleet arrived in the harbour of Kinsale; this event broke up all minor plans, and brought the two great leaders of the Irish, O'Donell and O'Neale, with their whole forces, to meet and join their allies. It also caused a powerful concentration of the Eng- lish under the lord-deputy and president, to the amount of 7,600 men. The Spaniards were 4,000, under the command of Don Juan D'Aguila. The Irish force cannot, with any tolerable certainty, be stated, but may be reasonably rated at many thousands. All circumstances had for a considerable time favoured the military improvement of the Irish. They had, according- to the statements of the Irish biographer, received arms for upwards of 20,000 men, besides the large supplies taken in plunder, and not numerically stated. A great part of the money sent over from England came by the same course of traffic into their hands, and the English possessed resources far inferior to those they thus obtained. It was, indeed, to meet the disadvantage arising from the Irish being thus enabled to purchase all they wanted in Spain, that the English cabinet adopted the unsafe expedient of a debased coinage, by which the currency might be confined to the country. As this great struggle, which terminated the insurrection of O'Donell, O'Neale, and the other chiefs who were leagued with them, at this period belongs more apjjropriately to the life of Tyrone, in which we have had occasion to bring forward in detail a fuller view of various concurrent events, we shall here confine ourselves as nearly as we can to those particular incidents in wliich O'Donell was more im- mediately a party. The Spanish took possession of Kinsale and Rin Corran, being the main places of strength on either side of the harbour of Kinsale. They were deprived of Rin Coi-ran; and Kinsale was closely besieged by the lord-deputy. On the seventh of November, the lord-deputy having intelligence that O'Donell was approaching, as was also Tyrone, called a council, in which it was agreed to send the lord-president Carew and Sir Charles Wilmot with their regiments, amounting to a thousand men, with two hundred and fifty horse, to meet O'Donell 346 THE O'DONELLS OF TYRCONNEL. — a force wliich the Irish biographer, with the exaggeration of party feeling, and a very excusable ignorance of the fact, states as four thousand men. O'Donell was waiting near Holy Cross, in Tipperary, for the earl of Tyrone; his camp was strongly fortified by the strong fastnesses of wood and bog, which he had secured by plashing on every side : so that no immediate assault was practicable by the English party. These in the mean time were strengthened by a regiment of foot and a few horse, under Sir Christopher St Lawrence. It was not the object of O'Donell to risk a premature conflict with this detached body before he could effect a junction with his allies ; and he very wisely deter- mined to avoid an encounter. It was still less desirable to be cooped up within his entrenchments. He escaped by a combination of good foi-tune with that skill in marches, which, throughout, appears to have been a conspicuous part of his tactics. The nearest available way through which his army could pass was twenty miles distant, near the abbey of Ownhy. Tliis way vvas intercepted by the English. The only passage besides, lay through the heights and passes of the moun- tain Slewphelim; these were rendered impracticable by recent rains tl)at flooded the numerous bogs and marslies which obsti-ucted the mountain and rendered the acclivity in ever}' part miry and slippery, so that no army could pass without leaving their entire materiel be- hind them. A sudden frost consolidated the marshy surface; and O'Donell, at once seizing the occasion, led his troops over a path en- tirely impervious on tlie preceding nig-ht-fall. The English lay about four miles from the Irish camp; and ere long were apprised of the enemy's movement; and about four hours before dawn they began to pursue, still hoping- to intercept O'Donell before he could reach the pass. They reached the abbey by eleven in the forenoon, and heard that he had been there before them and had hastened on to a house of the countess of Kildare, called Crom; his whole march being thirty- two miles. The president pushed on to Kihuallock ; but before he could reach Crom, O'Donell had departed with all his men to Conne- loghe. The president on this concluded the pursuit hopeless, and re- turned to Kinsale. O'Donell, following a circuitous and difficult path, at last joined the Spaniards at Castlehaven.* Between the English and the Spanish in Kinsale, many fierce en- counters had taken place, hereafter to be described ; and each had been strengthened by strong reinforcements. When O'Donell and Tyrone were come up, they received a letter from Don Juan, strongly urging an immediate attack on the English ; — he informed them that the English had not men enough to defend the third part of the in- trenchmeuts, and that if their first fury were resisted, all would end well. On the receipt of this letter, O'Donell and Tyrone held a council, in which the MS. biographer of O'Donell affirms that they disagreed : O'Donell urging an attack, and O'Neale opposing this advice. O'Donell prevailed; but the MS. mentions, that the consequence was a quarrtj between them, fatal to their cause; for neither chief giving way, • Sir W. Betli:ai). HUGH EOE O'DOXELL. 347 after a night of warm dispute they separated in the morning, and each party came separately before the Englisii at day break.* It will here be enough to state, that they were attacked by the lord-deputy with 1,100 men; and that they were routed with despe- rate slaughter, leaving 1,200 dead on the field, with 800 wounded. This battle was fought within a mile of Kinsale; and terminated the insurrection of O'Neale and O'Donell. The Spanish treated for their surrender; and the Irish, it is said, disputed for sevei'al days on the proposal of another battle. Pacific resolutions prevailed, though the consultation wanted little of the violence of a fight. O'Donell, still bent on maintaining the struggle to which his life had been dedicated, embarked with Don Juan for Spain, from Castle- haven, on the 6th of January, 1602; and landed at Corunna on the 16th of the same month. The king was at the time on a progress through his dominions; and O'Donell repaired to him at Zamora in Castile. He was received kindly by Philip, who listened with the ap- pearance at least of generous sympathy to his complaints against their common enemy. He was promised every assistance of men and means; and desired to wait in Coruima. O'Donell returned to Corunna, and for eight or nine tedious months suffered the penalties which but too frequently await those who put their trust in princes. The spring passed away in eager hope; — summer still smiled on the lingering day of sickening expectation. When autumn came, the im- patience of the fervid son of Tyrconncl had risen to its height. O'Donell could rest no longer — it is, indeed, likely enough, that he was forgotten — he again resolved to visit the king ; and set out on his way to Valladolid, where he kept his court, but did not reach the end of his journey. At Simaneas, within two leagues of Valladolid, he fell sick, and died, 10th September, 1602. O'Donell was thus cut oft" in his 29th year; having, in the course of a few years, by his activity and the ascendancy of a vigorous understanding and decisive mind, done more to make his countrymen formidable in the field than the whole unremitting fierceness and resistance of the four previous cen- turies had effected. He was prompt to seize every advantage — and cautious to avoid collisions to which he was unequal. He kept his people employed, and brought their faculties into training, while he accumulated arms and the means of war. Had he been allowed to persist a few years longer in that course of which his faithful secretary affords us many graphic vieAvs: acquiring ascendancy and wealth- — ■ spoiling- the chiefs who held out against him — and recompensing with the spoil those who were his allies; exercising his troops without loss or risk, while he slowly concentrated the mind and force of the coun- try under a common leader — it is hard to say what might be the limit of the achievements of his maturer years. Far inferior in power, ex- perience, and subtilty to the earl of Tyrone, it is yet remarkable how early he began to take the lead on those occasions in which their per- sonal qualities alone were brought into collision. On such occasions the temporizing temper of the earl seems ever to have g-iven way before the frank resolution of Ked Hugh. O'Donell, of all the Irishmen of * Sir VV. Bstliani. 348 SIR ROBERT SAVAGE. his day, seems to have been actuated by a purpose independent of self- interest; and tliougli much of this is to be traced to a sense of injury and the thirst of a vindictive spirit, strongly impressed at an early age, and cherished for many years of suffering, so as to amount to an education; yet, in the mingled motives of the human breast, it may be allowed, that his hatred to the English was tempered and dignified with the desire to vindicate the honour and freedom of his country. And if we look to the fickleness, venality, suppleness and want of trutli, which prominently characterizes the best of his allies in the strife — their readiness to submit and to rebel ; O'Donell's steady and unbend- ing zeal, patience, caution, firmness, tenacity of purpose, steady con- sistency, and indefatigable energy, may bear an honourable comparison with the virtues of anv otiier illustrious leader of his time. SIR ROBERT SAVAGE. FLOURISHED A. D. 135.3. It is perhaps the peculiar character of this period of our biography, that while it has more than the ordinary proportion of names, render- ed eminent by rapid rise, great actions, and weighty importance in their generation, there is comparatively little or no personal record of the illustrious persons who bore them ; — stat nominis umhia, might be taken for their common motto. To have a history, even in the most vague and general acceptation of the term, it was necessary not only to be famous in their day, but to be so identified with the whole of the tissue of our national history, that the events of the age may be stated as the life of the individual. Hence it is that, while numerous names are rendered eminent by the circumstances of a long descent, and wide-branching families which can trace their fortunes to the valour and wisdom of ancestors who lived in this period, we are yet obliged to confine our notices to a small selection of names mostly within a few great families. The history of Ireland for many centu- ries, is, in fact, little more than a history of the Geraldines and But- lers, of the De Burgos, Berminghams, and other illustrious settlers. But of the great Irish chiefs so renowned in their day — the O'Nialls, M'Carthys, O'Briens, O'Dounels, and O'Conors — it has been with some difiiculty that we have been enabled to connect some scattered notices to diversify our pages. Lives constructed regularly according to the rigid notion of biography, strictly personal in their main details, have been quite impossible even in those cases in which the materials are the most favourable. These reflections may be received as a preface not inappropriate to the following scanty notice of Sir Robert Savage. " About this time," writes Cox, " lived Sir Robert Savage, a very considerable gentleman in Ulster, who began to fortifie his dwelling with strong" walls and bulwarks ; but his son derided the father's pro- vidence and caution, affirming that a castle of bones was better than a castle of stones, and thereupon the old gentleman jjut a stop to his SIR ROBERT SAVAGE. 349 building." Some of the neighbouring Irish had made a plundering excursion into the territories of this stout old knight of Ulster; he promptly assembled his own people, and collected assistance from his neighbours, with the intent of chastising the affront, and perhaps re- pairing the losses he must have sustained. But with a cool deliber- ation worthy of the warrior who deemed that his valour needed no bulwarks, he thought it would be paying too serious a compliment to an enemy he despised, to go without his supper on their account, and gave orders to have a plentiful supper prepared for himself and his companions at their return from the fatigues of the day. One of the company, not without reason, surprised at this premature provision for a moment of which his fears suggested the extreme uncertainty, ob- served that it was not unlikely that his hospitable forethouglit might turn out to be for the advantage of the enemy. Sir Robert replied in the true spirit of Hibernian wit, bravery, and hospitality, that he had better hoj^es from their courage ; but that he should feel ashamed if his enemies even were to find his house inhospitable and devoid of cheer. His valour was crowned on this occasion with a complete and decisive victory, sufficient even to fulfil his son's architectural project ; as by the historian's account his party slew three thousand of the Irisli near Antrim, and " returned joyfully to supper." The story is probable enough, though the numbers of the slain are likely to be exaggerated; for unless some unusual accident opei-ated ni his favour, this particular either implies a larger force than a person of less than the highest authority could well have commanded; or the revolting supposition that Sir Robert and his friends exercised their valour upon a defenceless crowd, whom it should have been suffi- cient to repulse with the loss of a few prominent ringleaders. It is pretty evident, that such slaughters rarely took place in the many encounters we have had from time to time to notice ; yet in these the chief leaders of the English were engaged with large bodies of the Irish, whose skill in retreat was hardly less than the skill and disci- pline of the English in the attack. It must be observed, that such a result should have found a more distinguished place in the history of the time. Of more importance is the view which such incidents affiard of the dreadful state of the country, where a slaughter, considerable enough to warrant such an exaggeration (if such it be), can be mentioned as a cursory incident, insufficient to call for any detail. The true horror of a state in which there seems to have been an unrestrained licence of private war on every scale, according to the means or objects of the individual, is not easily placed in the deep shade of enormity and ter- ror which its real character demands. It was a fearful field for the exercise of all the worst and most terrific excesses of human vice and passion, and must have led to all the disorders incidental to a disor- ganized state of society. The power to encroach and usurp, to trample and to tyrannize, will seldom remain long unused, or be wanting in full and sufficient excuse for the perpetration of enormities without bound, but that which must limit all human exertions. Unfortunately for the more numerous and less civilized classes who are the eventual sufferers from such collisions, they have too easily, even in more civilized eras, been led to provoke inflictions which have the plea of justice and the fury of resentment. The warrior who considered bones as a safer bulwark than stones, could not in this disordered state of things long remain without a trial of his maxim, likely to be fatal to himself or his assailants. We do not hazard these reflections for the pur- pose of a ridiculous censure on deeds so wholly unlike the events of modern times. It is easy, were it to any purpose, to find excuses — in man's nature, the manners of the time, and the existing circum- stances — both for the aggressions of the Irish and the sanguinary re- taliations of the English. It is their excuse that they were ungo- verned by law, the sole preserver of civil order. The crime was that of an age in which invasion and robbery in every form and upon every scale, seems to have been sanctioned by opinion, and scarcely con- demned by law. The Irish septs, if they could not justly complain, might fairly retaliate; the history of the time is composed of such sanguinary retaliations: in these, it would be hard to trace the wrong to its source; the process does not belong to justice. When on the other hand, the settlers were not protected in their rights, thev can scarcely be blamed if they protected themselves by violence which could not fail to be stimtdated by fear, anger, party animosity, and all the bitter and inflaming instincts, which soon add force to human strife from whatever cause. Power is a fatal trust to human breasts, whether lodged with the many, with the few, or with one ; and hence the high perfection of that state in which the power resides in the law alone. Such a state in its perfection is of course ideal ; but it is the consum- mation of the true principles of civil government, and only ideal be- cause perfection does not belong to human things. Ireland appears to have presented a frightful exemplification of every social evil which can befall a nation ; they told upon her with awful effect, and have left traces never yet effaced by the firm, equal, and resistless force of con- stitutional civil control. Had the English been supported, fully established, and at the same time controlled, by the monarchs who even in the pale pos- sessed little more than a nominal power, all would have proceeded with a demonstrably progressive course, hand In hand with the Eng- lish monarchy, toward the same high perfection of civil order. In- stead of the English settlers having sunk Into the barbarism which ages of disorganization had caused in this island, the Irish chiefs would have rapidly risen to the level of the English civilization of the period, and the country would have become what unfortunately it Is not yet — a province of Great Britain, having not only the same laws, but what is as essential to Its civilization and prosperity, the same religion, manners, and national feelings. Leland, indeed, has ventured an affirmation which he has not succeeded in maintaining, and been followed as rashly by others, to whom It seems not to have occurred In writing Irish history, to look Into the contemporary history of England, before they ventm-ed comparative assertions. Leland dwells with a strong pencil on the dlsoi-ders of the social frame of England, in the reign of Edward III., and having described the slavery of the mass, the power and tyranny of the barons, the oppressions and exactions of the monarch, he somewhat loosely ob- serves, that " the whole picture both of the English and the native inhabitants of Ireland, is exactly delineated." Looking- only at the broad features of this delineation, no very decided objection lies against the comparison; but its merit is certainly not exactness. The disorders already described in this and every preceding* period of Irish history, find no exact parallel for frequency, duration, niagnitude, or actual character, until we look back to the Saxon heptarchy, when petty robbers, under the name of kings and chiefs, contended with the sea pirates of the north, in inflicting all conceivable oppressions on a savage population. The crimes and contentions of the Irish chiefs of either race (we include the Norman with the Irish and Danish) which form the substance of our narrations, may, it is true, be paralleled for violence, for flagitiousness, and for their more immediate con- sequences, with those which darken the page of Anglo-Norman his- tory. When the great oppress the feeble, when armed provinces or fellow-citizens meet in the field, or scatter waste and devastation through provinces, the sufierings and evils are nearly the same, what- ever may be the spirit and occi;sion. But it is widely different when the after consequences are to be deduced. Then, the institutions and the mind of a nation is to be looked into with minute and critical scrutiny, and the political frame of the country must be examined, not merely with regard to its grosser effects, but with respect to its direction and tendencies. The political springs of the English disorders were different, the social frame on and from which they operated wholly so, the spirit of the people different, that of the barons different, that of the monarchy a distinct and peculiar principle. The state of man- ners, knowledge, and the arts of life too, was widely dissimilar, and exercising an hourly influence on the whole system, not to be appre- ciated distinctly without much close study. We must, to avoid length- ened dissertation here, take a shorter course. The following main differences lie on the surface. In Ireland, all the contests were those oi in dividnals contending for their several purposes — to acquire territory — to revenge insult or wrong — to rob, murder, or protect and defend. The chief and the baron were to all intents so many bandit leaders, each looking- to preserve his own domain of spoliation inviolate. There was no gene- ral constitution contemplated, no abstract element recognised, no principle contended for. The chiefs did not unite to repel the Norman barons, the Norman barons did not (with some exceptions in extreme cases) com.bine to maintain or to control the usurpations of a higher power. We find no proud vindication of the laws of the realm, ex- pressing the sense of an assembled estate, no field of Runnymede, or spirited and virtuous remonstrance, nolumus leges Anglice tnutari, to show that, although the English barons tyrannized in their several spheres (as men will ever when they can), yet there was a corporate sense, a public feeling, and a common cause; that, in a -word, pi-inciples were at work. At that age, the people, in the present sense of the word, had scarcely existence in either country. But already in Eng- land, this third element of society was infused into the spirit of the mass, and corporate interests began to form, and become the centres of a growing constitutional force. If there was oppression, it was the result, not of mere licentious disorganization, but of a sijstein, the best that could have existed at the time ; and there is a wide differ- ence between a vicious order of things, and the total absence of any order. The people were slaves, and were fit to be slaves ; but there were processes at work which were to raise their condition both morally and politically by co-ordinate steps. A systematic contest between the monarch and his barons for jDower, had the necessary effect of raising- a third, and after them a fourth class into importance. The growth of wealth, the development of finance, as well as the struggles between the throne and aristocracy, were permanent princi- ples essentially pervading the entire working of the British nation from the beginning of the monarchy perhaps, certainly of the Norman race of monarchs. These worked uniformly and progressively, and produced permanent and diffusive effects. They were aided by every occasional cause. The wars of the contested succession between the families of York and Lancaster, and the contentions between the kings and the Roman see, can easily be shown to have operated in accelerating the main tendencies of the nation, toward the political balance so pecu- liarly the character of its laws and institutions. The disorders of society must in every state be marked with similar characters; the same low instincts, passions, appetites, and agents are being brought into leading action in all. When it comes to blows, the moral and intellectual capacities of man are quickly thrown aside; M hen crowds are put in motion, the most perfect militai*y discipline is insufficient to suppress the temper that leads to the utmost atrocity. It is needless to refine on this fact of human nature. SIR JOHN BERMINGHAM. DIED A. D. 1320. Sir John Bekmingham's ancestors had a castle in the town of Birmingham, from which their name is derived. The English branch continued to possess the lordship of this place until the reign of Henry VIII., when, says Lodge, " Edward Bermingham, the last heir male, was wrested out of that lordship by John Dudley, afterwards duke of Northumberland." William de Bermingham, who lived in the reign of Henry II. and Richard I., is supposed to have been the common lather of both branches. It is yet doubtful amongst antiquaries, whether it was his son Robert or himself, who came over with Strong- bow. We shall not discuss the point: whichever it may have been, he obtained ample grants from Strongbow. From this adventure is traced with more certainty Pierce de Bermingham, the first lord of Athenry, who was a distinguished nobleman in the reign of Henry HI. His grandson Peter, the third lord, was father to the eminent person whom we are to notice here, who was the second son. He is justly entitled to a conspicuous rank among the most eminent persons of his time. His most illustrious achievement was the termination of the disastrous war consequent on Bruce's invasion, to which wo SIR JOHN BERMINGHAM. 353 have been compelled partially to advert in other lives. We may now proceed to its detail. It will not be necessary to detail the incidents of Scottish history which led to Edward Bruce's descent on the Irish coast. The death of Edward I. freed the Scotch from the pressure of a formidable enemy. Robert Bruce, after a long- struggle with adversity, was, by the issue of the battle of Baimockburn, placed in secure possession of the Scottish throne. The Irish were also soon apprized of the feebleness of the English prince, and were seized by a strong desire to avail themselves of the opportunity to throw off the yoke. To effect such a purpose, it was, however, necessary to bring a force into the field adequate to struggle with the formidable power and valour of the English barons. Robert Bruce, who was at the time, without opposition, ravaging the northern frontiers of England, seemed an obvious resource upon such an occa- sion. To him, therefore, the chiefs of Northern Ulster applied. They represented the wrongs they had sustained, and were sustaining, from the inveterate enemies of his family, person, and nation; they must also have pleaded the ready assistance which he had in his own diffi- culties found from them ; they reminded him of the near consanguinity of the two nations, and finally offered to receive a king from Scotland, should they first be liberated by his valour. There were also reasons of a strong and peculiar nature, which operated to give ready effect to such an application. The juncture was seemingly favourable, and Robert Bruce was, by his nature, character, present situation, and tried experience, admirably adapted to succeed in such an enterprise. But other circumstances had been working-, to prepare the way for the application made by the Irish, which gave a different turn to the event. The brave monarch to whom their offer was made had a brother, as enterprising and valiant as himself, to whose fiery and impetuous valour he had been indebted for success in many an arduous danger, and who had shared all his for- tunes and sufferings, through the long and trying- struggle which placed him on the throne. Edward Bruce was restless, violent, enterprising, and ambitious ; a character which, though not unfitted to the nature . of the warfare in which his youth had been passed, was scarcely compati- ble with the calm and peaceable subordination, which was so much the interest of his royal brother to preserve in his small and turbulent monarchy. Among the fiery, proud, and contentious elements of the Scottish aristocracy, a character like that of Edward was always to be feared. He was as rash and inconsiderate, as he was ambitious; and having so long been placed, by the emergencies of his brother's life, and the importance of his military services, in a station approach- ing equal command, he did not think it unreasonable to desire an equal share in the government of the kingdom. Such a proposal must have filled the breast of king Robert w-ith disquietude, if not with alarm : however appeased by reason or concession, the wish itself was full of danger. King Robert, it is said, assured his brother of the succession, in case of the failure of issue male; but the proposal of the Irish chiefs came happily to relieve him from the difficulty, and he ofi'cred to place his brother at the head of an army, and to fix him on I. z Jr. So4 SIR JOHN BERMINGHAM. the throne of Ireland. The time was favourable to this undertaking'; Ireland was seemingly defenceless; the English were divided and weakened by dissension ; the Irish chiefs were favourable ; and England not in a condition to ofter any very efficient resistance. The g-reat monarch, whose wisdom and valour would have made such an enterprise formidable, was succeeded by a feeble prince, whose incapacity was betrayed by the uncontrolled disorder and maleadministration of everv province of his kingdom, which made him the subject of universal contempt. The project was full of golden promise, and Edward Bruce was easily tempted by the glittering bait. Some historians speak of a premature attempt of Bruce's, the result of his impatience, which, not being proportionably seconded, was repelled. It will, however, be enough here, to detail the particulars of the main effort which worked so much woe in this island, and is connected mainly with the subject of this memoir. It was in 1314, the seventh year of king Edward II., when lord Edmund Butler was deputy in Ireland, that Edward Bruce made his appearance with three hundred transports, containing six thousand Scots, on the north-eastern coast. Having effected a landing, he took forcible possession of the castle of Man, and took the lord O'Donnel prisoner.* Soon after, he landed his entire army, and was joined by the greater part of the native chiefs of Ulster, w itli such forces as they could conmiand. They freely swore fidelity to his cause, and gave their hostages. He commenced hostilities without loss of time. It was thought necessary to begin by striking terror through the country ; and his operations were of the most violent and desolating character : fire, waste, and a nearly indiscriminate slaughter were diffused among the northern settlements of the English. His barbarian outrages were heightened by the savage animosity of the natives. The castles of their English neighbours were levelled to the ground ; their towns destroy- ed by fire ; and the whole settlement depopulated. The terror of the spoilers went before them, and consternation was spread through every ]iart of the English pale. Amongst the greater English barons dis- union prevailed; and it is not improbable, that they were more intent on the consideration how this invasion might be made instrumental to their private animosities or cupidities, than on the means of averting the general calamity. As has been already noticed, De Burgo rose in defence of his own possessions, which were the first to suffer from the enemy's attack ; but any force that De Burgo could command, was far below the demand of the emergency. The prince of Connaught was won from his alliance by the insidious flatteries of Bruce ; and he was left to the support of his own proud and courageous spirit. The lord deputy came to his aid; but unwilling to be indebted to the English government, which he had always treated with contempt, for his safety, he declared his own forces sufficient to repel the eneniv. The feebleness of the government is indicated by the fact, that the lord deputy yielded to this boastful rejection, and left him to a struggle for which he was manifestly unprepared. Bruce had advanced into Louth, but was compelled, by the scarcity of provisions, to fall back * Cox, SIR JOHN BERMINGHAM. 355 into Ulster. De Burgo followed, and coming' to an engagement, on the 1 0th of September, was defeated witli great loss. This defeat was, however, not sufficient to paralyze the activity of De Burgo, and he was still enabled to harass the enemy. The operations of Bruce were materially weakened and retarded by an Inconvenience which was, in some measure, the result of his own improvidence. The waste committed by his army quickly made pro- visions scarce, and before long g-rew to a disastrous dearth, to Avhich the failure of his enterprise is mainly attributable. He found it neces- sary to retire into Ulster, until he might make more efficient provision, and increase his force for an advance. During this interval, a relation of Feidlim O'Conor's took advan- tage of his absence to usurp his rights. Feidlim was quickly re-in- stated in his possessions by Sir John Bermingham, but immediately after declaimed for Bruce. His example was followed by many othei* chiefs, who had till then rested neuter. The chiefs of Munster and Meath joined their forces. 1'he clergy declared for Bruoe, and loudly called to arms. Bruce was crowned at Dundalk; and to add to this formidable conjuncture, the king of Scotland landed with a fresh and powerful force in Ireland. This sagacious prince soon saw enough to damp his ardour for the field: the subsistence of an army, even under the most favourable circumstances, was at the time a main obstacle to such enterprises ; the support of the Irish was little to be counted on; the resistance of the English, though tardy, would be formidable; and a sagacious eye could perceive, that while the Scottish force was daily becoming less efficient, the hostile power was slowly gathering from afar. The first step to be gained hy the English was embarrassed by many difficulties : it was hard for the lord justice to bring- an army into the field; but if this were once effected, the odds would be fearfully against any force that could be brought to oppose them. It was, besides, no part of king Robert's plan to waste his life upon an enterprise made painful by distressing dearth of means, and beset with incalculable difficulties and impediments. He was satisfied with having cheered his proud and hotbrained brother to perseverance, and having effected this purpose, he retired. He left his army with his brother, who was thus enabled to assume a more foi'uiidable posture. Among his adherents were many of the degener- ate English, of whom the De Lacies and their numerous followers were the chief part.* He laid siege to Carrickfergus. This town resisted to the most distressing extremities of weakness and famine ; but the vast increase of the besieging force now rendered further resistance hopeless, and it was compelled to surrender. Bruce was next obliged to march south- ward. The appearance of danger was imposing; a strong and numerous army, led by a renowned warrior and joined by the Irish nation, was not without extreme ini'atuation to be lost sight of in petty animosities. It became at last evident that tlu> safety of tlie whole was at stake; and the common danger began to infuse unanimity and loyalty among * I.eland. 356 SIE JOHN BERMINGHAM. the English barons. The chiefs of the powerful Geraldine branches of Kildare and Desmond united their efforts with lord Edmund Butler. The government, excited by the emergency and by the zeal of the barons, seconded their exertions. The battle of Athenry gave a favourable impulse to the hopes of these leaders, and a discouraging check to the body of the Irish chiefs who were leagued with Bruce. Bruce was not of a temper to be discouraged by the discomfiture of an Irish army. He marched to Dublin. There the citizens set fire to their suburbs ; and, retiring within the walls prepared for a resolute defence. In the hurry of these operations, the cathedral of St Patrick took fire. Bruce, unwilling to lose time in so doubtful and tedious a siege, proceeded on through Naas, Castle-Dermot, and the towns on that line, burning and plundering as he went. He was guided by the Lacles, who had a little before caused themselves to be tried and acquitted of any participation in his hostile operations, and received the king's pardon. Bruce continued on unchecked in his march of de- vastation and plunder by Limerick, through Ossory to Cash el, and thence to Nenagh, directing his fury most chiefly against lord Edmund Butler's estates in the counties of Kilkenny and Tipperary. There was at this time a meeting of the English barons at Kilkenny ; they had, with much difficulty, collected an army, said to amount to thirty thousand men, but still scarcely to be depended on in a seriously contested engagement, as it was made up of a mixture of all classes of persons who could be collected. The operations of this force were checked by the arrival of lord Mortimer, who wished to command them in person. Bruce found his forces too much weakened for a direct encounter, and led them back to Ulster. The English were not provided for a long pursuit through an ex- hausted country, and the new deputy dismissed his forces and repaired to Dublin to renew his preparations upon a more adequate scale. Here the barons were once more convened ; and the earl of Ulster, who had been imprisoned by the lord mayor, was released at the instance of the lord deputy. The next step of the governor was to reduce the Lacies in Meath, and to regulate the province of Leinster, through the disorders of which the English subjects had long been reduced to the severest ex- tremes of suffering and depression. The famine, arising from the long continuation of a wasting internal war, had now reached its height. All provisions had risen to the most exorbitant prices, and numbers were dying from mere want. But the proceedings of the government gradually infused vigour and organization into the councils of the English, and the court of England had begun to take more active steps for their security. The pope was applied to, and the sen- tence of excommunication was denounced against all the enemies of king Edward of England. In this curse the Bruces were included by name ; the Irish clergy were also either included or menaced, and a two years' truce was commanded between the Scots and English. To this the Irish chiefs replied, by the representation of the grievous wrongs and oppressions they had sustained from the English, which were, they said, so intolerable, that tliey were compelled, as a last re- source, to invite the Scottish prince to protect and rescue them from SIR JOHN BERMINGHAM. 357 tiieir oppressors. Their representations, which were probably not much beyond the tj'uth, made an impression on the pope, who trans- mitted it to king Edward, with a strong remonstrance, advising him to redi-ess the grievances of the Irish, that they might thus have no excuse for revolt. Bruce gave little heed to these denunciations. His condition ad- mitted of no long protraction of the war ; his only chance was in the advantage of the present moment, and in the difficulties which his enemies found in bringing an efficient army into the field. His own ai'my was beginning to melt away, under the severity of its wants and fatigues. The resources of the country were exhausted by the ravage of destruction and the cessation of culture. All the various horrible and disgusting resources of starvation had been tried; the last hideous resource of desperate self-jjreservation, even in its most revolting ex- treme, had been had recourse to — the living fed upon the victims of disease; a still increasing famine was widening its fatal desolation round their marches and encampments ; and disease, the sure comjjaniou of famine, was ravaging- through Ulster. Dissension, too, began to revive among his Irish friends : four thousand Irish fell in mutual conflict in Connaught. The lord justice was summoned into England; in his room Alexan- der Ricknor, archbishop of Dublin, was made deputy; he appointed Sir John Bermingham general of the English. Bruce advanced towards Dundalk with three thousand men, the remains of a gallant army. Bermingham advanced to meet him with a small but select force oi fifteen hundred English. Both parties were eager for the decision of the field. The Scotch were weary of a px'Otracted warfare, with famine and disease, which had grievously thinned their numbers, and were likely to exterminate them ; they had probably looked for a different issue^ — an easy conquest, with the rich spoils of the ejected English. These had, on their part, still keener motives to excite their ardour. They must have resented the intrusion of the Scotch upon their hard won acquisition, and felt that the protracted disquietude and danger arising from the presence of so formidable a foe, nmst now be brought to a decided end. Each army was equally confident of victory. The tried valour of Bruct gave confidence to the Scots, who listened with military ardour to his cheering exhortations. The bishop of Armagh walked through the English ranks, represented the justice of their cause, and promised absolution to those who should fall. The fight began, and was for some time maintained on both sides with the steady valour of those two brave nations. But the Scots, though numerous, were exhausted by their fatigues and sufferings ; they were soon compelled to give way before the unbroken strength and spirit of the English. Bruce was slain, but the accounts of his death are not quite consistent. Most of our historians represent him as having been slain in the onset by Maupas, a brave English knight, who rushed forward to meet him in the ranks ; but another account, more circumstantially related, places his death immediately before the battle, while the two armies were yet encamped half a mile asunder. According to this latter account, Maupas was a burgher of Dundalk: n 358 ARNOLD DE LA POEE. having disguised himself in a fool's dress, he entered the Scottish camp, aud seeking out Bruce, he dashed his brains out with a leaden plummet. He was instantly cut to pieces. When Bermingham re- ceived intelligence of the event, he at once took advantage of the confusion it must have caused, and commanded an attack. Both ac- counts agree that Bruce was slain by Maupas, whose body was found stretched over him. This incident cannot be reconciled with the last mentioned accounts, as it seems to imply a state of confused resistance and hurried flight; for it is nearly impossible that the re- spect of the Scots would have suffered the body of his slayer to lie across that of their general, if there was a moment for the deliberate notice of such a circumstance. Maupas's heir was rewarded with fortv marks per annum. Bruce's head was sent to king Edward by Ber- mingham, who was created earl of Louth, by a patent dated 12th May, 1319, with a grant of the manor of Atherdee in that county. The same year he gained another victory, in Connaught, over O'Conor and jMacKelly, in which 500 Irish were slain. In June, 1321, he was lord justice in Ireland, with a fee or salary of 500 marks. In 1322, he conducted a large force into England, to join the king in his in- tended war with the Scots. In 1325, he founded the Franciscan friary of Thermoy. He was at length murdered by the Irish in Louth, uu Whitsun-Eve, at Balli- beagan in 1329, with many of his kindred and name, to the amomit of 200 persons. He was the most able leader among the Irish barons of his day. He was married to a daughter of the earl of Ulster, by whom he left three dauffhters. ARNOLD DE LA POER. CIRC. A. u. L327. Amongst the most distinguished warriors who came with earl Strongbow to this island, none was more eminently distinguished for personal valour and the lustre of his exploits in the field, than Sir Roger le Poer, great-grandfather to lord Arnold. He had the govern- ment of the country about Leighlin, where he was assassinated. He left a son by a niece of Sir Armoric de St Lawrence, who was the grandfather of the subject of our present memoir. All the interme- diate ancestors, from the first, were brilliantly distinguished in their several generations by those actions which, however illustrious, are un- happily the too uniform burthen of the page of our history. Lord Arnold's life presents an honourable variety of less conspicuous but moi-e intrinsically noble distinction; he is here selected for comme- moration on account of the creditable part he bore in resisting the power of a superstitious and persecuting church, and the honour of having been a martyr to the cause of mercy and justice. We shall therefore briefly notice the previous events of his life, in which he had his full share in those transactions of which we have already had, and still have, to detail so much, and hasten to the last melancholy tribute which is justly due to his memory. The first remarkable event of his life was a sing-le combat, in which he was, in his own defence, compelled to slay Sir John Bonneville, who was the assailant, as was proved at his trial before a parliament held in Kildare, in 1310, the year after the circumstance. In 1325, he was made seneschal of the county and city of Kilkenny, an office of high trust and dignity in those days, though since degraded both in rank and functions, and in our own times existing as the foul- est blemish on the distribution of justice in this country. In 1327, he excited a tumultuary war in Ireland, by calling Gerald, earl of Desmond, a rhymer. Of this we have already taken notice in the memoir of that eminent person. Among the gloomy characters which have appropriated to these periods in which we are now engaged, the name of " dark ages" — the most awful, both on account of its causes and consequences, was the cruel and arbitrary system of church despotism maintained by perse- cution. At a period when the original institutions of Christianity lay buried under a spurious superstition, developed out of all those very cor- ruptions of human nature for which the gospel was designed to contain the remedy — the church, for the maintenance of its usurpations, had begun to protect its own groundless dogmas and spurious sanctity with an hundred-fold strictness. The primitive church was content to expel from its communion the idolater and the obstinate impugner of its fundamental doctrine: but the church of the darker ages, setting at nought this fundamental doctrine, yet assuming a character of more rigid and authoritative control of the conscience, guarded its own heresies with the rack and faggot of the inquisition. Opinion, reason, research, were hunted down with the cry of heresy and the blood- hounds of the hell-born inquisition; and a fearful tyranny, reared in moral and intellectual darkness and pillared by cruelty, was rapidly extending itself over all the kingdoms of Europe. Candour must admit that of the Popes, the majority would have restrained this horrid system within the limits which their own policy required ; but the vindictive principle in human nature, when it becomes com- bined with either superstition or any other passion of a permanent nature, and capable of affecting the multitude, readily kindles into fanaticism. And an instrument of power will seldom fail to be abused for the purposes of individual resentment or ambition. In Ireland, where the authority of the Roman see had received slow admission, and was not for a long time after this established, the prudence of the Roman cabinet would have refrained ; but the rancour of the odium theulogicum — a term which has survived its correct mean- ing — burned the more fiercely in the breasts of individuals. A bishop of Ossory, fired no doubt by the report of the portentous noveltv of the continental institution of the auto dafe, seems to have conceived the liberal and patriotic project of introducing it into Ireland. In the midst of its distractions, and amid the wild and sanguinai'y confusion of a state closely bordering on utter anarchy, the island was suddenly horror-struck with the cry of heresy. Alice Ketler, a lady of rank, was the first victim of a charg-e, which, notwithstanding some circumstances that seem to refer it to the bigotry of an individual, it is yet not easy to avoid regarding as part of a systematic contrivance. The peculiar accusation was at least well adapted to the purpose of conciliating the sense of the multitude, ever easily brouo-ht round to any height of error or crime. A persecution for mere oj)inion is only popular when fanaticism has -been fully kindled; but one for witchcraft, the horror of vulgar superstition, would be likely to win the support of opinion and public sentiment, and pave the way for the whole flagrant legion of St Dominic. Accordingly, this unhappy lady was accused in the spiritual court of Ossory, of the formidable crime of witchcraft ; she was alleged to have stamped the sacramental wafer with the devil's name, and to have possessed an ointment to convert her staff into the flying broomstick of a witch. On this charge, one of her people was executed and her son impris- oned. The charge failed, but the accuser was resolved not to miss his object. The charge of heresy, which doubtless had been kept back to be an insidious aggravation, was brought forward, and Mrs Ketler was, on this charge, tried and condemned to the stake. It was then that the lord Arnold de la Poer, being, as we have mentioned, the seneschal of Kilkenny, humanely interfered. The re- source of bishop Ledi'ed was prompt and terrible ; — lord Arnold was himself assailed with the fatal charge. He appealed lo the prior of Kilmainham, who was chief justice; the same accusation was extend- ed to the prior. Lord Arnold, thus deprived of every resource, was left in prison in the castle of Dublin, where his death took place before he could be brought to trial. The prior of Kilmainham. Roger Outlaw, proved the falsehood of the accusation; but it is said that lord Arnold, having died " unassoiled," was left for a long time un- buried. As we shall not return to this disagreeable incident, we may here complete the account by adding that the archbishop of Dublin wisely and humanely determined to arrest in its commencement, the introduc- tion of this new and fearful shape of calamity into Ireland. He assailed the fanatic of Ossory with his own weapon, and charged him with heresy. Ledred was obliged to fly, and made an impotent appeal to the Roman see. ART M'MURROTTGH. DIED A. D. 1422. Of the Irish chieftains at this period, any information to be obtained is unsatisfactory; and we are compelled to pass them in silence, from the very desultory nature of our information. We have already had occasion to name M'Murrough amongst those Irish chiefs who were knighted by king Richard. It is unnecessary to detail the circumstances which so soon brought Richard back to Ireland, 1399; here alone he found even the shadow of honour or success. At this period, M'Murrough is represented as heading a strong force of his country against the English. His pride and sense of independence were deeply oifended by the submissions he had been compelled to make; and neither the vows of allegiance and fealty, the pension of 80 merks, the honour of knighthood, nor even the considerations of prudence, were sufficient to control his impatience to fling off the imputation of a yoke, and wash out the stain of submission, by the unconscious guilt of perjury and shame of falsehood. For any open course of resistance on the battle-field, he had not, however, sufficient means. He therefore had recoui'se to the well- known system of light-heeled, though not unsoldier-like tactics of flying and ambushed war that had so often perplexed and endangered the soldiers of Fitz-Stephen and Strongbow. With a force of three thousand men he took his post among the woods. The English, as they approached, were surprised with the apparition of a well appointed army drawn up along the forest edge, and seeming by their soldier- like order, and intrepid front, prepared to offer immediate battle. The appearance was illusory. As the English captains drew up their troops in order of battle, their enemies melted away into the darkness of the woods. This incident elated Richard, who celebrated his triumph by the creation of several knights; among whom was Heni-y of Lancaster, whose father was at the moment preparing dethronement and disgrace for the feeble Richard, while he was vapouring about the fancied dis- comfiture of an enemy who despised him. Richard ordered a larg'e body of peasants to open a lane through the impervious woods; and, when this insane order was executed, he had the childish temerity to lead his army into a defile, aptly contrived for the destruction of its designer. The English troops were soon entangled in the miry passes of a labyrinth of thickets, lined with invisible enemies — of hollow morasses and impeded ways, where it was as hard to return as to proceed. At every point of disorder they were assailed with sudden irruptions of the enemy, who rushed out into the entangled and strug-gling crowd with astonishing force and noise, and cast their darts with deadly effect. Under such circumstances, any force of ordinary numbers must have fallen a sacrifice to the rashness of their leader. The army of Richard was too strong to be beaten under any disadvantage by a tumultuary crowd, whose strength was the con- cealment from which they made attacks which were rather directed to cut off stragg'lers, than to make any impression on the main host. There was, therefore, no hope of gaining any decided advantage; and the chiefs of M'Murrough's army were most of them impressed with a sense of the danger of provoking the hostility of the English to ex- tremities. Many of them came of their own accord, to make their peace with Richard ; they appeared with halters round their necks and threw themselves at his feet to implore for pardon and mercv. Richard's anger was quickly appeased through the easy approach of his vanity. M'Murrough was formally summoned to submit, but the sum- mons was deprived of its authority and dignity by the accompaniment of large offers. M'Murrough was, in his own way, as vain as his anta- gonist ; and he saw the increasing distresses of the English. Richard had, in his thoughtless impetuosity, neglected to observe, that the scene of such long-continued wars and disturbances could not supply the wants of his army. This oversight was not lost upon the sagacity of M'Mur- rough, who anticipated the sure consequences, and was thus encouraged in the course of resistance he had pursued. There seems indeed to lao AET M'MURROUGH. liave been throughout, a struggle between pride and prudence in the mind of this chief; he saw his advantages, but seems to have hesitated in their use — whether to obtain a beneficial compromise, or to win the name of a hei"oic resistance. The temptation to this latter vain course was very great. There was a dearth amounting to famine in Richard's camp: his men were perishing from want — the horses were become uu- iit tor service — a general discontent possessed the army — the very knights complained of hardships unattended with the chance of honour. It became a necessity to change their quarters. M'Murrough saw the advantageous occasion which was unlikely to recur, as Kichard's dis- tresses nuist end with his arrival in Dublin. The plunder of some vessels, laden with a scanty supply of provisions, by his own soldiers, decided the king; and the Irish chief who wavered to the last moment, now sent in to desire a safe-conduct, that he might treat for peace. The duke of Gloucester was sent to meet him and settle the terms. The meeting has been described, by a historian of the time, with graphic precision; the description, though assimilated to caricature by some touches of grotesque truth, affords a curious gleam of the social state of the Irish of that generation, and is equally interesting for the lively portrait it gives of the ancient barbaric chief: the ostentatious and flourishing exti'avagance of barbarian vanity cannot be mistaken, and the portrait is altogether full of uncouth nature and truth. The Irish king darted forth from a mountain, surrounded by the forests which concealed his forces ; he was mounted on a strong- and swift horse, and rode without stirrups. A vast mantle covered his person with its ample folds, but did not conceal the strong mould of his tall and well-proportioned frame, "formed for agility and strength." As he approached with the rapidity of a warrior about to charge, he waved proudly to his followers to halt ; and, dai'ting the spear which he grasped in his right hand, with the display of much force and skill, into the ground, he rushed forward to meet the English knight, who stood more entertained than awed by this formidable exhibition of native energy. The treaty ended in nothing; the prudence of M'Murchard was uncertain and wavering, his pride and prurient haughtiness were in permanent inflammation. The hero outweighed the statesman, and he could not resist the opportunity for a display of kingly lofti- ness. He offered submission, for such was the purpose of his coming, but he refused to be shackled by stipulation or security. His inso- lence quickly terminated a conference in which no terms could be agreed upon, and each party retiu-ned to their own camps. M'Murrough had now plainly involved himself in a condition of which, in the ordinary couise, ruin must have soon followed. The king was infiu-iated; and an adequate force, intrusted to a leader of ordinary skill and knowledge of the country, would soon have deprived him of every rood of territory. But circumstances, stronger than the arms and pride of M'Murrough or the anger of Richard, now interfered. Richard remained in Dublin, and Wiis engaged in the arrangements for the vindication of his authority, and the indulgence of revenge. But his power was come to its end ; and he was already devoted to the haj)less fate which he was meditating for an inferior. The continued ART M'MURROUGH. 363 prevalence of stormy weather had for some weeks prevented all intelli- gence from England; at length it came, and he learned that he was ruined. The story of his return, and the sad particulars which followed, belong to English history, and are known to the reader. Of the subsequent history of this chief we find but occasional tracks at remote intervals. In the following- reign, during one of those occa- sional fits of vigour which a little retarded the decline of the English pale, his obstinate disaffection received a transient check. He ex- ulted in the reputation of having alone, of all his fellow-countrymen, held out against the force and power of the English, and having foiled the power of the king at the head of thirty thousand men. This was the more galling to the English, as his territory lay within the pale. He was the only chief who refused to make submission to the duke of Lancaster ; and as such submissions Avere in few instances more than nominal, he found no difficulty in seducing many of the others to join him. At the head of these he defied the government. Stephen Scrope, who was at the time deputy to the duke, called a parliament in Dublin, which was adjourned to Trim, to consider the best means for the defence of the country. The Irish barons Ormonde, Desmond, the prior of Kilmainham, and other nobles and gentlemen, joined such troops as they could collect, and marched against M'Murrough. The whole force of these leaders was but slight, and the Irish chief was enabled to present a formidable resistance. The first encounter was seemingly doubtful, and the little army of the English was compelled to give way before the impetuous onset of M'Murroiigh's host; but the steadiness of the English soon tm'ned the foaming and roaring* current of a tumultuous onset, and the Irish fied before them. O'Nolan and his son were taken, and many slain. But the English were prevented from following up their fortune. Accounts reached them on the field of other disturbances in the county of Kilkenny : they were obliged to make a forced march against O'Carrol, whom they slew, with eight hundred of his men; but M'Murrough was nothing the worse. A defeat was nothing to the Irish chief while he could save himself; his army was a mob that easily collected and scattered. The power of the English was now far on the wane ; their moments of vigour were desultory, and their effects were more than counteracted by the lengthened intervals of neglect and weakness. Henry IV. appears to have been both careless and ignorant about the interests of the Irish settlers ; and the wisdom and valour of the best governors and deputies were unable to obtain more than a respite from the ruin that was coming on with uniform progress. Talbot, lord Furnival, came over; and to show, in a very forcible point of view, what might be done by skill and prudence with adequate means, without any force but what could be raised among the inhabi- tants of the pale, he managed by judiciously directed and alert move- ments to repress the insubordination of the Irish chiefs. And there cannot be a more unequivocal test of the efficacy of his conduct, than the submission of M'Murrough, who gave up his son as a hostage. The remainder of M'Murrough's life was probably spent in quiet. SIR WILLIAJVI BRABAZON. DIED A. D. 1552. In August, 1534, Sir William Brabazou was appointed vice-trea- surer aud receiver-general of Ireland; and was for the eighteen years toilowing vhe most distinguished person there for his eminent services, and his brave and steady conduct in various trying situations. In 1535, he distinguished himself greatly by his resistance to the mad proceedings of Lord Thomas Fitz-Gerald, in the country round Naas. Allen and Aylmer, in a joint letter* to Secretary Cromwell, mention that but for Brabazon's conduct on that occasion, the whole country from Naas to the gates of Dublin, had been bm-nt ; " which had been a loss in effect irrecuperable." The following year, O' Conor Faly made a destructive inroad upon Carbery, in the county of Kildare, but was at once checked by Sir William Brabazon and the chancellor, who marched into Offaly, where they conmiitted equal devastation in the lands of O' Conor who was thus compelled to return home, on which a peace was presently con- cluded. In 1539, Brabazon was, with the chancellor and master of the rolls, appointed a commissioner for receiving the surrenders of the abbeys, and the granting of the necessary pensions for the maintenance of the abbots and fraternities by whom they were surrendered ; and in 1543, he was appointed lord justice. At this time the king's style was altered from lord to king of Ireland, and the new official seals were sent through him to the respective officers by whom they were held. He was again called to the government in 1546, and maintained his character by successful expeditions in which he reduced a danger- ous combination of O'More and O' Conor Faly, whose territories he laid waste, forcing O'Conor to seek refuge in Connaught. On the accession of Edward VI., being nominated of the Irish privy council, at the special desire of that king, who, at the same time, ex- pressed his sense of his long and eminent service, Brabazon suggested the effective repair and occupation of the castle of Athlone, and had the charge of this measure, so important to the province of Connaught, committed to himself. The military importance of this place had been recognised so early as the reign of John, when the castle is said to have been built. Standing on the only part of the Shannon where this river is fordable for thirty miles, and commanding the territories on either side, this town obviously presented the most important advantages for a magazine, and central position in the western counti'y. Under Brabazon, repairs were made, and additions, which were continued ic the reign of Elizabeth. This service was rendered difficult by the strenuous opposition of the neighbouring Connaught chiefs. In 1549, Brabazon was again called to the head of the Irish go- *^ Stale Papers, Paper xcv. p. 260. BERNARD FITZ-PATRICK. 365 vernment by the election of the council, and during his administration performed many important and laborious military services, among which may be specified his expedition against Charles Kavenagh M'- Art, whom he proclaimed a traitor, and having got £8000, and four hundred men from England, he attacked him in his own lands, and dispersed his soldiers with considerable slaughter; so that Kavenagh was soon after compelled to come to Dublin and submit himself to the council, publicly renouncing his title of M'Murrough, and surrender- ing large tracts of his estates. Sir William Brabazon died at Carrickfergus in 1552. His heart was buried with his English ancestors in Eastwell, and his body in St Katherine's church, Dublin, where there was a long Latin inscription upon a monument, which has been removed in rebuilding the church; and an English inscription summing the above particulars, upon his gravestone. He was ancestor to the earls of Meath. BEKNARD FITZ-PATRICK, SECOND BARON UPPER OSSORY. DIED A.D. 1550, OR A. D. 1551. The reader of ancient Irish history may recollect to have met the name of M'Gil Patrick, prince of Upper Ossory, among the most valiant opponents of the first settlers in the 12th century. A still earlier recollection carries us back to the famous field of " Ossory's plain," where the ancient warriors of Munster were crossed upon their homeward march from the battle of Clontarf, by Magilla-Patrick and his men, and subdued their generous enemies with the noblest display of heroism that history records. The grandfather of the baron who is the subject of this notice, is also commemorated by an amusing anecdote, which is repeated by all the Irish historians. In 1522, this chief sent an ambassador to Henry VIII. with a complaint against Pierce, earl of Ormonde. The ambassador met king Henry on his way to chapel, and delivered his errand in the following uncouth sentence : " Sta pedibus, Domine Rex ! Dotninus mens Gillapatricius me minit ad te et jussit dicere, quod si non vis castigai'e Petrum Rufum, ipse faciei bellum contra te." The son of this chief, Barnard Fitz-Patrick, made his submission in 1537, to the commissioners of Henry VIII. They entered into inden- tures with him to make him baron of Cowshill, or Castleton, with a grant of the lands of Upper Ossory, at the annual rent of three pounds to the king, which agreement was carried into effect by a patent, dated 11th June, 1541. His first wife was a daughter of Pierce, earl of Ormonde, the ^'Pefrum Rufum" of his father's complaint. By her he left a son, Barnaby, who succeeded him as second earl; and who was eminently distinguished for bravery, and for his prudent and hon- ourable conduct as a public man. This Barnaby was the distinguished friend and favourite of Edward VI., who wrote him many affectionate letters, still extant, while he was in France, where he served as a volunteer in the king- of France's army. Afterwards, when he returned from France, he signalized his valour in England, in Wyat's insurrection; and in 1558 was laiighted 366 BERNARD FITZ-PATRICK. by the duke of Norfolk for his distinguished services at the siege of Leith. An extract from a letter of the lord deputy Sidney to the Irish council, written while he was at Waterford, aflPords an honourahle tes- timony of this lord : " Upper Ossorie is so well governed and defended by the valour- and wisdom of the baron that now is, as — saving for surety of good order hereafter in succession — it made no matter if the county were never shired, nor her majestie's writ otherwise current than it is, so humbly he keepeth all his people subject to obedience and good order."* Under this impression, so honourable to the lord of Upper Ossoi-y, the lord deputy made him lord lieutenant of the King's and Queen's counties, and the neighbouring country ; through- out which the same good order was preserved, so that the turbulent chiefs of those districts were thoroughly repressed. One of those chiefs whose insurrectionary sallies he had for many years controlled, Rory Oge O'More, having burnt Naas and other towns, was proclaimed by the government. As the baron of Upper Ossory was his most formidable foe, this chief made a characteristic effort to destroy him: he sent a person to the baron, who pretended to give him private information of the movements of O'More, and described the place where he might be surprised with a larg-e prey and a small force, among the woods. The baron knew the rebel chief's character, and the ways of the country, and suspected the ti'uth. The information was not, however, to be neglected, so he took with him a strong- party, and when he approached the woods, he sent in thirty men to try the way. O'More seeing this, thought to mask his real force by appearing with an equal mnnber, leaving- the rest of his men in ambush. This well devised manoeuvre was, however, defeated by the impetuosity of the baron's men, who instantly charged the enemy and scattered them; in the confusion O'More received a sword through his body, and was despatched. The reward of a thousand marks had been offered for O'More's head; this sum was offered to the baron by the council, but he refused to accept more than one hundred marks as a reward for his men. This occurrence happened in 1578. In the following year, the baron attended the lord deputy into Munster against James Fitz-Maurice; in consideration of which. Lodge tells us, he received a pension with other compensations which showed a high sense of his services. Sir Henry Sidney, in his instruc- tions to his successor, lord Grey, mentions the baron of Upper Ossory, with a few more, as " the most suflBcient and faithful" persons he found in Ireland. This baron died 1581, leaving a daughter only; on which his titlp and estates passed to his brother Florence, to whom he also left by will all his " wyle stoode," " his armour, shirts of mail, and other fur- niture of war, saving- that which served for both the houses of Bor- riedge and Killenye, which, after his wife's decease or marriage, he wills to remain for the furniture of those two castles constantly. He leaves to him likewise half his pewter and brass; all his tythes in Ossory (except those of Aghavol bequeathed to his wife), all the plate left him by his father," &c., &c.f * Quoted by Lodtje. f Lodjre. SIR ANTHONY ST. LEGER. 367 SIR ANTHONY ST. LEGER. DIED A. D. 1559. The St. Legers were, for many generations, settled in the county of Kent; and several individuals of the family appear, during the course of the 15th century, to have held offices lay or clerical in Ireland. Sir Anthony was sent over by Heni'v VIII. as one of the commis- sioners for setting- the waste lauds upon the marches of the English pale, for 21 years, to such tenants as would improve them, and on such rents as might appear fair to demand, &c., with certain coiiditions framed to extend the pale and preserve the English character of its inhabitants. This conmiission is historically important, for the dis- tinct view which it affords of the state of the pale in the year 1537. We shall, therefore, have to notice it farther on in detail. It may be here enough for the reader to know, that the commission carried an inquest, by means of juries, into the several districts of the pale ; from the returns of this the result is a most frightful picture of exac- tion and petty tyranny, under the odious names of Coyne and Livery, and other pretences of extortion all prohibited by law. Surveys were also made of several estates of the greater proprietors; regulations of the most judicious character were decided upon in conformity with these, and Intrusted to this connnission to cari'y into effect. For this purpose they were armed with very considerable authority, and exe- cuted their commission with vigour and effect. They made sufficient inquiries as to the parties concerned in lord Thomas Fitz-Gerald's re- bellion to produce a salutary fear, while they refrained from an in- judicious severity, which might excite disaffection. They let to farm the king's lands, reserving the annual payments due to the exchequei- ; and they reconciled the earl of Ormonde to the lord deputy. Having exeeuteom txtmt. 2 1556. Sliane, his eld. son, mui-dered 1567 Sir Henry, killed in action against Sir 0. O'Dogherty, 1608. Sir Phelim, his grandson, bom 1604, executed 1641. 3 1567. Hugh, son of Lord Dungaunon (an illegt. son of Con murd. by Shane), attainted 1607, d. 1616. The younger branch, to which the present Earl belongs, descends from Hugh Roy O'Neill, Lord of the Claneboys and Ards, in the counties Antrim and Down, 1283. Itorb s of t ^t Claixf bogs anb ^ibs. r Colonel Charles, his grd.-nephew, d. s. p. 1716. John, his kinsman, grt.-grd.-son of Sir Shane. 1739. Charles, his eld. son. 1769. Jolm of Shane's castle, M.P., B. 1,793, V. 1795, killed in rebel- lion '98. €ntl. ARMORIAL BEARINGS OF THE NEILLS. 1798. Charles Henry St. John, cr. Vis. Raymond and E. O'Neill 1800. D. unmar. Higher honours extinet. Arms. — Per fesse, wa\'y; the chief, ar- gent, charged with a sinister hand,* couped and erect, gules ; the base, waves of tlie sea, proper ; thereon a pike fish, naiant, of tlie last. Supporters. — Two 1841. John Richard Bruce, brother of Earl. lions, gules, each gorg- ed with an Eastei'n crown, and cliained, or. Crest. — An arm, em- bowed, in armour, pro- per ; garnished, or ; holding a sword, also proper. Motto. — Lamli dearg Eirin. * * " The red hand of Ireland," (which is the translation of the motto,) and the shield charged with the hand, arose thus :— In an ancient expedition of some adventurers to Ireland, their leader declared that whoever first touched the shore should pos.sess the territory which he reached. O'Neil, bent on obtaining the reward, seeing another boat likely to land, cut Ins hand off .and threw it on shore. This was adopted by James I. as tlie badge on in.stituting the Order of Irish Baronets. A FuHaj-touSc C° L ondon ^Edinburgh HUGH O'NIALL OF TIR OWEN. 371 from all future service in Ireland, he retired to Uloomb in Kent, the seat of his ancestox-s, where he died in 1559. THE O'NIALLS OF TIR OWEN, OE, TYRONE. HUGH o'NIALL of TIR OWEN. A. D. 1215. Of the secondary class of Irish chieftains, who lived in this period, nothing is distinctly known, but as their names are occasionally brought into historical distinctness by their occurrence in the feuds, battles, and rebellions of the time. Amongst these casual notices there occurs much to excite regret that more abundant and distinct information cannot be found in any unquestionable forms ; as it must be admitted that, unless in the point of military skill, the little we can discover of their actions may bear a not discreditable comjaarison with the most renowned and successful of their invaders. The characteristic features are, indeed, in some respects, so different, that such a comparison can hardly be made without the suspicious appearance of over-refining. But a closer inspection must remove something of this difficulty; because, when we scrutinize the conduct of our English barons to find the true indication of the virtues ascribed to chivalry, unfavourable allowances are to be largely made for the action of influences arising from their position as conquerors, holding their territories by continued violence, engaged incessantly in small yet irritating hostilities, possessed of enormous power, and tempted by constant opportunities to enlarge it. If, among the native chiefs, there occurs little that can be viewed with less reproach, equal allowances must be made on the score of the similar pernicious influences ; while some indulgence must be thrown into the scale for the natural workings of pride and resentment. The comparison, indeed, has little to recommend it; its best points, on either side, are scarcely to be ranked under the predicament of virtues ; but the lower the level on the scale of civilization, to which either side must be referred, the more signal are the examples of prudence and honour of which individual instances occur from time to time. The main difterence consists rather in the different means which we have of attaining to any thing of distinct knowledge of the personal history of the individuals of either class. The Irish chiefs have their record in a class of writers who, of all that ever held the pen of history, have left least information to after times. Barely confined to the dry mention of a fact, in the fewest words, and without description or detail, their accounts are nothing more than the brief entry of a chrono- logical table. It is only incidentally that their names and actions occur in the diffuse page of Cambrensis, who, with all his misconceptions and 372 THE O'NIALLS OF TYKONE. prejudices, is the only historian from whom either the detail or colour of the time can be known, so far as regards Irish history. Of the English barons, we have abundant means of tracing the genealogy and verifying the biography in the more distinct records and documents of the English history of the same period ; while of the Irish, we can only pretend to be so far distinct as their intercourse with the English barons places their names and actions in a clear point of view. Such are the reasons why we have found it convenient to confine our plan, so far as respects these illustrious persons, to such of them as have a prominent place in the history of the English ; and of these, to that portion of their history which thus appertains to the history of the settlement. Among these, a prominent place cannot be denied to the O'Nialls of Tyrone. Of these, among the first whose names occur in this period may be mentioned that chief of Tyrone, Hugh, who had nearly fallen a victim to the cause of Cathal O'Connor, when he was deprived of his kingdom by De Burgo, in favour of his rival Carragh. To the circumstances of this part of his life we shall have to revert; — worsted in the field by De Burgo, he was deposed by his angry subjects, and another chieftain of his family elected. This chieftain fell in the action, which soon followed, with the people of Tir Connel; but a considerable time elapsed before O'Niall regained his rights. In this he succeeded by means easily conjectured, but of which we have no detail ; and some time elapses before we again meet him on the occasion of king John's visit to Ireland, in 1210. On this occasion, it is mentioned that he refused to present himself before the king, unless on the condition of being secured by two hostag'es for his safe-conduct. The terms of his submission to the English crown were then settled apparently to his own satisfaction, and he was peaceably dismissed; but, with the characteristic inconsistency of his countrymen, he no sooner found himself secure in his own territory, than he dis- missed all idea of submission and spurned a demand of hostages from the king. The consequences of this boldness were averted by the timidity and feebleness of John, whose spirit was not roused by a bold defiance from the chief, as he marched through his territory. His chastisement was committed to the garrisons on the frontiers of the Eng- lish districts, but the force, on either side, was too nearly balanced for any decided result ; and this the more so, as the English, few in num- ber and unprepared for extended operations, were confined to the defen- sive. O'Niall had the advantage of selecting the occasion and point of attack, and generally contrived to obtain some petty advantage, too slight to have any consequence, but sufficient to be exaggerated by the pride and jealous enthusiasm of his people and the magnifying power of report, into the name of victory. With the aid of the neighbouring chiefs, more decided results might have followed from the pertinacious hostility of this spirited chief; but the neighbouring chiefs were engaged in mutual strifes and animosities. The next incident in which he is to be traced is in a combination with Hugh de Lacy, in which he gave assistance to that ambitious and turbulent chief, in his attempts to possess himself of some territory belonging to William, earl IMarshall. Not many years after, his in- CON O'NIALL, FIRST EARL OF TYRONE. 373 fluence is apparent in the election of Tirlogh O'Connor, on the death of Cathal — an election which was defeated in favour of another brother, of which we shall have occasion to speak. Of the death of Hugh O'Niall, we have no means of fixing the precise date ; but from those we have noticed, the time of his appearance on the scene of Irish politics may be somewhat between 1 190 and 1215. There are some curious remains of the ancient rank and grandeur of this family, of whom we shall have to notice some of the descendants. The Dublin Penny Journal, to which we have already been indebted for valuable information on Irish antiquities, gives a woodcut of the coronation chair of one of the branches of this family — the O'Nialls of Castlereagh* ; and in the same place mentions, that " there was, and probably still is, another stone chair on which the O'Nialls of Tyrone, the chief branch of the family, were inaugurated. It is marked in some of our old maps, under the name of the " stone where they make the O'Nialls." In the same page of this work, there is also a curious re- presentation of the ancient arms of the family : — a " bloody hand, from an impression of the silver signet ring of the celebrated Turlogh Lynnoch. It was found, a few years ago, near Charlemont, in the county of Armagh."* CON O NIALL, FIRST EARL OF TYRONE. DIED A.D. 1558. The name of O'Niall has a place of no mean distinction in every chapter of the history of Ireland. But it is the main difficulty of the present portion of our labour, that while events, scarcely historical in their nature, are crowded together on every page, we have, on the contrary, a lamentable absence of all the personal detail which might be looked for among records so minute and frivolous, that they seem rather to be the material for personal than for national history. The descendants of these renowmed Irish kings, the heroes of the poets and chroniclers of our first period, appear in the subsequent periods as the actors in some slight transaction, or persons of some curious tale, and disappear without any satisfactory trace of their previous or subsequent course. It is mostly, only from the change of name, that it is to be inferred, that the father has died and the son succeeded. This ob- sciunty, instead of diminishing, increases as we advance to later ages; so that it is easier to give the full details of the history of the hero of the nine hostages than of his descendant, who flourished among the sons of little men at an interval of thirty generations. In every reign, the representative of the Tyrone O'Nialls is found among the more powerful opponents of the pale, — often the leaders of formidable insurrections of the native forces ; often yielding and swear- ing fealty ; often again in ax'ms, and among the enemies or pensioned * Vol. i. p. 208. — The momiineiit here mentioned has been imrc-hased by R. C Walker, Esq. ot Rath Carrick. protectors of the pale. They assume, however, in the reig-n of Henry VII., a new character, by their alliance with the princely house of Kildare. As the authentic portion of the family history of this race is confined to notices insufficient for the purpose of biography, we shall here mention a few particulars about some of the immediate ancestors of the first earl of Tyrone. Con O'Niall was married to the sister of the eighth earl of Kildare ; and, from the time of that great man's eleva- tion to the administration of Irish affairs, he gave his powerful support to the English. He was, in 1492, murdered by his brother, Henry, who, in turn, was mvirdered, in 1498, by the sons of his victim, Con and Tirlogh. This Tirlogh was thus raised to his father's rights. In 1501, he had a battle with the Scots, near Armagh, whom he defeated, slaying about sixty soldiers,* and foui' captains. " A son," says Ware, " of the laird of Aig, of the family of the MacDonnels, and four sons of Colley Mac Alexander." As this battle was on Patrick's day, it is doubtful how far it can be properly regarded as an affair of enmity. We find no account of the death of this chief: but he was succeeded, within a few years by Art O'Niall, whom we find receiving aid from the earl of Kildare, in 1509, when he was seized and imprisoned by the rival branch of the O'Nialls. Of Art we have nothing very memorable to tell: he died in 1519, and was succeeded by his brother. Con Boccagh, who was I'aised by popular election. This chief was not long at the head of his sept, when Thomas Howard, earl of Svirrey, was sent to Ireland as deputy, in 1520. Con was, at the time, engaged in an in- cursion into Meath; but, hearing that Surrey was on his march against him with an overwhelming force — a thousand English, and the select men of Dublin — he became discouraged, and retreated into Ulster. Thither Surrey did not think fit to pursue liim, as he was quite unpi^ovid- ed for so prolonged a campaign ; and he therefore returned to Dublin. O'Niall, however, clearly saw, that he had not himself any force to be relied on, if the English governor should think fit to follow into the north ; with this feeling, he sent lettei-s to SuiTey, offering entire submission, on the condition of being taken into favour ; and offering to serve the king faithfully. To this Siu-rey agreed; he had, indeed, little if any choice. O'Niall was not aware of the penurious means allowed for the maintenance of the Irish government, by Henry VIII. The celebrated field of the cloth of gold was held in the same year, with all its well knowTi circumstances of lavish cost ; but the liberality of Henry was confined to his pleasures, and his love of ostentation. There was, however, good reason to fear the wisdom and military talent of Surrey, who, notwithstanding his difficulties contrived in August 1520 to march into O'Niall's country, on which O'Niall came in, with other Irish chiefs of the north, and submitted; or as king Henry describes it in his own communication to Surrey, " according to their natural duty of allegiance, have recognised us as their sovereign lord," &c. Sir John Wallop had been sent over with this intelligence to the king, who in answer states to Surrey, the advice of his council upon the government of Ireland, that the Irish chiefs should be dealt with by "sober waies, politique drifts, and amiable perswasions, rather than by * Cox. rig-orous dealing-, comminacions, or any other enforcement bj strength or violence; and, to be plaine unto you, to spende so moche money for the reducclon of that lande, to bring the Irishry in apparannce oonely of obeisannce, &c., &c., it were a thing of less polleie, less advantage, and lease effect."* It is more to our present purpose that we find in the same letter a direction to lord Surrey to knight O'Niall, " and other such lords of the Irishry, as ye shall thinke goode."t A complaint seems to have soon after (1521) been made to the Eng-lish court, of O'Niall, repre- senting him as engag-ed in a formidable conspiracy for the destruction of the Eug'lish, by the aid of a Scottish force ; and urging, as the only resource against this, the necessity of a strong English force being sent over. It was answered in the paper of instructions sent over by the king, that the king's engag-ements to foreign powers, and his " mani- folde quarrels with France, made it inconvenient." This is, however, followed by a letter from the king, in which he states, that having caused all inquiry to be made in Scotland, and for other reasons assign- ed, there is no ground for any apprehension of immediate hostility from O'Niall. It appears certain from the same document, that O'Niall had expressed his gratitude to the king himself for the honours conferred upon him; and the probability, suggested by every gleam we can obtain of his personal conduct, is, that he became a true if not a zealous supporter of the English. In 1523, he appears bearing the sword of state before the lord deputy. In 1525, O'Niall became involved in a war with Manus O'Donell; he was assisted by his kinsman, the lord deputy; but while engaged in an incursion in O'Donell's lands, his own were invaded by Hugh O'Niall, the chief of the rival house. On this they concluded a peace with O'Donell, and marched against Hugh O'Niall, whom they de- feated and slew.ij: A very few years after. Con O'Niall seems to have been engaged in Opposition to tlie English of the pale; and, in 1532, committed devasta- tions which considerably injured his kinsman, the earl of Kildare, who was then deputy and was suspected of having countenanced his conduct. Two years after, he engaged in the disturbances, which are to be here- after detailed in the life of the deputy's son — so well known under the appellation of Silken Thomas. By his conduct in the " Rebellion of Silken Thomas," he drew upon himself the especial attention of de- puty lord Grey, in 1539. Avhen his territories were invaded and sus- tained severe loss. It was in the year 1538, that the peace of lord deputy Grey's administration was disturbed by the very energetic efforts of the Roman see against the progress of the reformation. Of these, we shall speak fully, under a more appropriate head. Our present pur- pose is to mention a communication from tiiat see to O'Niall. A Franciscan friar, who was sent over for the purpose of exciting the native chiefs to arms, was seized. Among his papers was found the following letter written in the name of the council of cardinals by the bishop of Metz : — * Letter trom Heiay VIII. to Surrey. — Slate Papers, f lb. p. 6G. \ Cox. Ware. " My Son, O'Nialj., " Thou and thy fathers were ever faithful to the mother church of Rome. His holiness, Paul, the present pope, and his council of holy fathers, have lately found an ancient prophecy of one saint Lazeri- anus, an Irish archbishop of Cashel. It saith, that the church of Rome shall surely fall when the Catholic faith is once overthrown in Ireland. Therefore, for the glory of the mother church, the honour of St Peter, and yom' own security, suppress heresy, and oppose the enemies of his holiness. You see that when the Roman faith perisheth in Ireland, the see of Rome is fated to utter destruction. The council of cardinals have, therefore, thought it necessary to animate the people of the holy island in this pious cause, being assured, that while the mother church hath sons of such worth as you, and those who shall unite with you, she shall not fall, but prevail for ever — in some degree at least — in Britain. Having thus obeyed the order of the sacred council, we recommend your princely person to the protection of the Holy Trinity, of the Blessed Virgin, of St Peter, St Paid, and all the host of heaven. Amen." O'Niall, already irritated by the lord deputy's warfare upon his territory, and easily inflamed by representations so adapted to his character — which did not fail to reach him through many efficient channels — entered with violence into the views suggested by the Romish emissaries. He was joined by Manus O'Donell, and many other of the native chiefs. The clergy exerted themselves to the utmost of their power to inflame the pride of the chiefs, and the passions of all ; and a strong confederacy was quickly raised. At the head of the formidable insurrection thus levied. Con O'Niall marched into the pale, committing ravage, and denouncing vengeance against the enemies of St Peter, and the chiefs of the holy island. Their hostilities terminated in destruction and plunder. Halting near Tara, O'Niall reviewed his numerous forces; after which they separated to their provinces congratulating themselves on an amount of spoil, which in their eyes constituted victory over their enemies. In the mean time, lord Grey, though unprepared either to repel or take advantage of this inroad, was not idle. He collected his force, far disproportioned in number, but still more preponderant in material. He obtained a small reinforcement from England — ^the citizens of Dublin and of Drog-heda flocked with ready zeal to his standard — and the inhabitants of the pale, whose resentment and scorn had been excited by the depredations and unwarlike conduct of O'Niall and his confederacy, showed more than their usual alacrity in contributing their exertions for their own defence. When joined by Sir William Brereton, lord Grey led his army into Meath where he came up with a considerable body of the Irish insur- gents, on the banks of a river at a place called Bellahoa. There was danger and difficulty in passing, but little in routing the host of Irish chiefs. The accounts of these encoimters, though sufficiently authentic as to the main result, are yet too jierplexed in most of their incidents to enable us to off'er any detail that ^ve feel to be satisfactory. O'Niall appears to have pursued a temporizing course, the policy of which was to gain time and ward ofi" immediate consequences, by professions, treaties, and pledges, to which he attached no weight and which deceived nobody who knew the Irish chiefs ; they were yet entertained with some appearance of trust by the English court, and also gave a temporary pretext to his supporters and friends. When he possessed the means of resistance he respected no pledges ; but when discomfited, his ready refuge was submission. Hence, the numerous trea- ties and the broken appointments, which it would be alike tedious and unprofitable to particularize. In the year we have been noticing, we are enabled to ascertain from the correspondence published by the State Paper committee,* that he occupied a lai'ge share of the atten- tion of government, of which the above remarks will be found to be a faithful description. We, therefore, pass to the year 1542, when a more decided turn in the course of this powerful chief's life took place. In a letter, dated the 24th August, 1542, the lord deputy and council acquaint the king that O'Niall had come to Dublin offering to go to England to visit the king, if they would supply him with money for the purpose: and afiirming his own entire want of means, and adding, that " considering his good inclinations which were beyond all men's expectation," they would endeavour to supply him for this important purpose. O'Niall made his visit, and was most graciously received ; his arrival was, however, preceded by a communication, expressive of due penitence for all his past offences, with strong professions of submission for the time to come. Asking pardon, and " refusing my name and state, which I have usurped upon your grace, against my duty, and requiring your majesty of your clemency to give me what name, state, title, land, or living*, it shall please your highness ; which I shall acknowledge to take and hold of your majesty's mere gift, and in all things do hereafter, as shall beseem your most true and faithful subject." King- Henry created him earl of Tyrone, and gave him the " country of Tyrone." The patent limits the earldom to Con O'Niall for life, with remainder to his son Matthew intail male. Matthew was by the same instrument created baron Duncannon. This Matthew was an illegitimate son ; and Ills right of succession was forcibly disputed by other members of the family, which disturbed the old age of his father, and renewed the troubles of the country. A paper written by the secre- tary Wriothesly, as quoted in thevolume of State Papefs,froni which we have chiefly drawn this notice, gives some curious details of O'Niall's investiture. " A paper remains in the hand-writing of secretary Wriothesly, noting the presents to be made to O'Niall on this occasion, among which were robes of state, and a gold chain of the value of £100. And it appears by the register of the privy council, that the earl of Oxford was summoned to attend the king at Greenwich, on Sunday, 1st of October, to make a sufficient number of earls for O'Niall's investiture to that dignity; and, that as a further mark of favour, Mr Wiatt and Mr Tuke were, on the 3d of October, ap- pointed to conduct the earl of Tyrone, [&c. &c.] on the morrow to do their duties to the young prince Edward." The earl, on this occa- sion, renounced the name and style of O'Niall, engaged that he and his • State PapiTs, from 1538 to 1540, Vol. ii. — State Papers, vol. ii. Paper ccclxxix. 378 THE O'NIALLS OF TYRONE. followers should assume the English dress, manners, customs, and language, and submit to English law. This arrangement maj evi- dently be looked on as the commencement of a most important revolu- tion in the state of Ireland; as it was followed by a like submission under all the same conditions on the part of other great chiefs, whom the gracious reception experienced by O'Niall encouraged to pursue a course, of which the honour and advantage was now becoming yearly more and more apparent. The course of events had been, during the whole of the reign of Henry, such as to show that sooner or later all pertinacious opposition to the progress of English dominion must be swept away; and although, as ever happens, the bulk of pro^jrietors and petty chiefs looked no further than the shape and colour of the passing moment, sagacious or informed persons, whose means of knowledge were more extensive, saw and acted on the principle of securing themselves against changes likely to come. The dream of regaining a barbarian independence was roughly shaken. The new earl- — and he was at the time at the head of the native chiefs, for power and possession — was on his return sworn of the privy council in Ireland. O'Brien, O'Donell, Ulich de Burgho, and Des- mond, soon followed, made the same renunciations, and received the same favours. The next occurrence, of sufficient moment for notice, exhibits the advantageous operation of these arrangements upon the state of the chiefs who had thus submitted. The earl of Tyrone, and some others among the Ulster chiefs, having fallen into disputes amongst them- selves, instead of entering on a brawling war to decide their difi'er- ence by the plunder and murder of their dependents, they came up to Dublin to lay their complaints before the lord lieutenant and council. The earl of Tyrone seems, however, to have fallen under suspicion not long after. In 1551 (5 Ed. VI.), he was detained in Dublin for some months by lord lieutenant Crofts, on the apprehension of dis- turbances in Ulster. It is evident that the ties of ancient habit and hereditary pride must have long retained an influence beyond the force of any other ; but the earl was now become an old man, and probably felt the civilizing influence of that prudent season of life. Younger hands, too, were already grasping for his honours and possessions ; and the growing force of British law must have assumed the aspect of a shelter and security against the unregulated violence of native ambi- tion and turbulence. The occasion of the earl's embarrassment with the lord lieutenant was in fact the result of contention among his descendants, and the unjust and dangerous disposition which he had made of the succession to the inheritance. Matthew, lord Duncannon, his recognised heir, was not only an illegitimate son ; but common rumour, and the general opinion of the people, had long questioned his paternity, and it was said that he was the son of a smith. Indig- nant at a preference so questionable, the legitimate sons of the earl began to plot against the baron Duncannon, and partly succeeded in estranging from him the aff"ection of the earl. Duncannon conceived the safest and surest resource would be to make common cause with the government. For this purpose he complained to the lord lieuteu- ant, assuring him that his father and his brothers were leagued with the hope of throwing off their allegiance to the king, and re-asserting their independence. Upon this it was, that the earl was detained in close custody in Dublin. The other sons flew to arms, and attacked the lands of Matthew lord Duncannon, which they plundered and laid waste. Matthew was assisted by the English ; but the deputy, in reliance upon the Irish lord's force, sent insufficient aid. The consequence was, a defeat sustained in an encounter with the brothers, John and Hugh, with a loss of two hundred slain. The war, (if we may so name it,) was, however, long kept up, and we shall have to notice its conse- quences under another head. The earl of Tyrone does not further appear in any important transaction. This contention in his family clouded the prosperity of his latter days. He seems to have rested his affections on Matthew, baron Duucannon, who, it is probable, was not his son; and it was with impatient resentment he witnessed the successful encroachment of John O'Niall, whose active and turbulent disposition allowed no rest to Ulster. At length, having contrived to seize the person of Matthew, he put him to death. The old earl, whom he imprisoned, and who had put his whole heart into the contest, died of the shock. JOHN O NEALE. KILLED A. 11. 1567. All historv which bears any relation to the events of modern times, is apt to be popularly viewed through a medium coloured by party; and it cannot well be otherwise: for it is from this that principles of interpretation, and even habits of thinking, are mainly formed. In the history of Ireland, the difficulty arising from this cause is much increased by the fact, that the broad principles of human nature, and of the constitution of society, have been dismissed from political speculation, and replaced by the specious but most illusory adoption of a mode of appeal to facts, and reference to states of society, which, however important they are, as furnishing subjects of investigation, and as illustrative of principle, have not the direct connexion^ which is but too often implied by party, with any thing at present existing. So far as party politics are directly concerned, the evil, if such it may be called, is of small moment; it little matters under what pretensions the game of faction is played on either side, by .those who, on the pretence of reason, are only anxious to find the most effective weapons. But in the composition of a work such as the present, this evil is great and not to be disguised. However cautiously stated, the fact cannot fail to be regarded according to its weight as a political fact stated with a political view. This diffif'ulty is again augmented by the circumstance, that in every statement of the facts of Irish history, this very bias is in a high degree observable, and more especially in those which are the produce of modern litera- ture. They alone who are by their habits of study enabled to test the various notices of the Irish events of Elizabeth's reign, by the most authentic authorities, can imagine the extent to which, without any direct falsehood being' told, a totally opposite view of the same events and characters can be dressed up for the use, or to satisfy the preju- dices of either of the two great parties which occupy the stage of political life. When such is the fact, it is but too easily shown that while an un- principled writer who can consent dexterously to turn his narrative according to the views of a faction, will incur the certain reprehen- sion of those who think and feel in opposition; the unbiassed state- ment which is made, as all such statements should be made, in an impartial disregard for both, must alternately give offence to each. The view by which this position is illustrated must be entered upon more at large hereafter, in the prefatory portion of our next period. It is briefly this: that, in the continued struggle between human be- ings, in no very high stage of moral or intellectual culture, and actuated by the deepest passions of human nature, there was generated a vast complication of errors and wrongs on either side. That usurpa- tion, violence, fraud, rapine, murder, breach of treaties, perfidiousness, and generally a disregard for all the principles of equity, and humanity, and good faith, find instances enough on both sides. From this general truth, and from the " mingled yarn" of human virtues, vices, and motives, it is easy, by seemingly slight omissions, to draw a coloured view of persons or events. This slight sketch of some of the leading views of our historical creed, has been prompted by the revisal of our chief materials for the few important lives with which it is our design to conclude this period. John O'Neale, more familiarly known by the Irish name Shane, was one of the most remarkable persons of his time ; and occupies a princi- pal position in the history of Ireland during the first years of Queen Elizabeth's reign. We have elsewhere had occasion to notice the par- ticulars which involved his early years in anxiety and contention. The influence of an illicit union had usurped the favour and regard due to legitimate offspring ; and the earl of Tyrone had set aside the claim of Shane, his eldest son by his lawful wife, for one who was known to be the offspring of his kept mistress, and on specious grounds affirmed to be the fruit of her clandestine intercourse with some low artizan. After frequent renewals of the family contention, which was the natural consequence of such arrangements, Shane, who had for some years occupied a leading position in the affairs of Tyrone, and in the civil feuds of the neighbouring chiefs, caused the lord Dungannon to be slain, and threw his father into confinement. The old earl sunk under the vexation and impatience excited by this undutiful, yet look- ing to the customs and spirit of that age of lawless violence, not quite unwarranted action. If his allegations are to be admitted, Shane had sustained a wrong, not likely to be meekly submitted to in any state of human polity. The lord justice Sidney having marched to Dundalk, sent for Shane, who was six miles off, to come and answer for himself.* Shane did not think it consistent with his safety to obey, * Ware, C3ox. and it was unsafer still to refuse. In this dilemma he took a prudent middle course: he begged to be excused from immediate attendance, and invited the lord justice to be his gossip, on the faith of which tie he would come and submit to do all that the queen's service might de- mand. The compliance of a man like Sidney with this irregular pro- posal, may show the real power and danger attributed to Shane O'Neale. Sidney was entertained with the barbaric magnificence of an Irish prince, and stood sponsor to the child of Shane O'Neale. After the ceremony was completed, a conference was held between the Irish leader and the lord justice : and Shane justified his conduct, and as- serted his pretensions with temper and clearness. He affirmed that the lord Dungannon was not the son of the late earl, but that he was well known to be the son of a smith in Dundalk, by a woman of low degree, and born after the earl's marriage, of which he was himself the eldest son. It was objected that he had, notwithstanding, no right to assume the title, as the earl had surren- dered his territories to the king, and that under that surrender, the settlement had been made. To this it was replied by Shane, that according to the institutions still existing amongst the Irish, his father had no power to make such a surrender, having but a life-right to the title and territories of O'Neale ; that his own claim was by election according to the law of tanistry. He went on to argue, that by the English law the letters patent were illegal, as no inquisition had been or could be made, as the country should for this purpose be made shire ground. The deputy, referring probably to the recent tumults in Tyrconnel, complained of his assumption of a right of op- pressive interference in the affairs of the northern chiefs ; to this it was frankly replied by Shane, that he arrogated nothing beyond the lawful rights of his ancestors, who were the acknowledged superior lords of the northern chiefs. By the advice of his council, the deputy answered that he was sure the queen would do whatever should appear just; and advised O'Neale to continue quiet, until her pleasure should be known. He then departed, and O'Neale remained at peace during his administration. This period was unfortunately of no long continuance. Sussex came over to take the administration into his own hands, and held a turbulent parliament, in which the regulation of ecclesiastical affairs was to some extent effected, and the sovereignty of Elizabeth, as queen of Ireland, affirmed by statute. The opposition met by Sussex in this assembly was, however, enough to deter him from remaining, and he returned to England, leaving Sir William Fitz-William deputy. The chang-e was unfavourable ; the times required a person of more weight. The efforts which had been recently made, and were still in progress, to introduce the reformation — now happily established in England, where the soil had long been prepared- — into Ireland, where all was opposed to the introduction of any change founded on the advance of civilization, caused a violent excitement of popular feeling, and a dangerous activity among the priesthood of the Romish communion. Emissaries fi'om Rome were at work in every quarter among the chiefs; and the king of Spain was already entering on the course of successful cajolery, by which, during the greater portion of the reigc 382 THE O'NIALLS OF TYKONE. of EKzabeth, he contrived, with the least conceivable sacririce ot means, to keep up a delusive reliance on his power and assistance among- the refractory chiefs, whose eag-erness for small advantages, and blindness to remote consequences, were the result of their rude state ; thoug-h the credulity with which they listened to all illusive promises has been proved by time to have in it something of national temper. Shane O'Neale, surrounded by dependants and flatterers, by nature disposed to insubordination — strongly urged by these underhand agencies, and seeing the general ferment of the people, soon resolved "to take advantage of the weakness of the administration. His first demonstrations were directed by keen and cherished animosity; the occasion which gave latitude to turbulence was favourable to revenge. Recollecting- the humiliation which he had so recently met from the arms of O'Donell, he made a sudden inroad upon the territory of that chief, whom he seized, with his family. The chief himself he cast into prison, and only released him at the ransom of all his moveables of any value. When released from durance, Calvagh O'Donell had to learn that his cruel enemy had reserved a more galling humiliation for him than the chains redeemed so dearly; his son was retained for an hostage, and his wife for a mistress. Shane O'Neale, notwith- standing his ability and intelligence, is said to have been coarse and brutal in his habits; and this cruel and ungenerous conduct is quite reconcileable with the general descriptions of his character jjreserved by the old historians, and repeated more doubtfully by the ablest moderns, by all of whom he is described as one addicted to gross debauchery and beastly excess, the fever of which he was often fain to allay by having himself buried up to the shoulders in the earth. This account has been questioned on the specious ground of riot being consistent with the other ascertained features of Shane's character — his subtilty, cautious policy, his polished manners, and the great ability shown in conference with the lord-justice. But this is the reasoning of men who are more conversant with books than with life. There is a latitude in human character that cannot be found in annals, or in the necessarily contracted record of men's deeds. Any one who is conversant with mankind, in any class of society, can easily recall greater contrasts than that presented by the cunning and sensuality — the wit and brutality — the politeness and cruelty — the prudence and the drunken intemperance of Shane O'Neale; these qualities scarce afford materials for the characteristic antithesis of Irish eloquence. O'Neale's native intelligence and subtilty of understanding were in no way in- consistent with the simplicity of a barbaric chief, and still less so with the want of that steady regard for the principles of truth, and the strict duties of mercy and humanity, which scarce can be said to have belonged to his age; still less again with the existence of fierce pas- sions and appetites. He was not without native virtues, which are indicated in many of his actions, but cannot be quoted in disproof of vices, which have been charged on strong authorities, and denied upon none. It may be admitted that the disaffection of Shane O'Neale was the result of injuries real or apprehended; it was at least increased and matured by views of policy, and by the influence of flatterers and JOHN O'NEALE. 383 advisers. His pride made him keenly alive to the appearance of slight or favour, and in his intercourse with the queen or her deputies, the influence of this sentiment is easy to be discerned. But new instruments, not quite so clearly traceable, were also at work; and however he may have contracted an occasional sense of regard for the queen, a constant current of opposite causes was still controlling this inclination, and bringing him back to the level and direction of the dispositions of an opposite tendency, which were the air in which he breathed. Having once taken a determined step into rebellion, he was quickly led to ex- tremities which were equally pointed out by inclination and caution. From the government he could only expect severe justice; but it was whispered by pride, and echoed by a thousand flatterers, that the prince of Tyrone might safely hold out for higher indulgence from an enemy which seemed unable to cari-y its anger to extremities, and even showed itself ready to purchase peace on the easiest terms of compro- mise. Thus impressed, Shane O'Neale began to breathe defiance and revenge against the English. His determination appeared in manner, conversation, and in the ferocious zeal with which he vindicated his hate against the slightest disposition or act which savoured of English. This may be illustrated by several instances : one of his followers he caused to be hanged for eating Eng-lish biscuit, which he considered as a base instance of unpatriotic degeneracy. The queen ordered Sussex to lead his army to the north ; and O'Neale, who had carried fire and sword through the pale, now lent a docile and pliant ear to his kinsman, the earl of Kildare, who represented in strong terms the hopeless character of the contest in which he was about to embark. Shane was not on his part wanting in plausible allegations to give a colour to his repentance and justify the past; and, such was the policy of the time, his excuses were allowed. Sussex advised submission, and as before, promised justice. It was arranged that O'Neale should be suffered to retain his possession of Tyrone, until the parliament shoidd have examined and decided on the validity of the patents granted to his father and supposed brother; if they should be declared void, that he should then receive possession of his lands by tenure from the crown, and be created earl of Tyrone. To this O'Neale consented, and repaired to Dublin, where he was honour- ably received, and made his submission in due form. While remain- ing in Dublin, he received intimation of a rumour that he was to be sent over to England, under a guard. Alarmed at this report, he took ship and passed over to England himself, where he presented himself before the queen, with a gorgeous train of his followers, arrayed in the rude magnificence of ancient Ulster. His guard of gallowglasses are described by Camden, as having their long curled locks hanging from their uncovered heads, their shirts stained with saffron,* having ample sleeves, over which were short tunics, and hairy cloaks, which, says the annalist, were objects of wonder to the English, not less than * The curious reader may desire to ^ee the original description. " Ex Hiberniu jum venerat Shaniis O'Neale, ut quod ante annum promiserat, prsestaret, cum se- currigo galloglassorum sattellitio, capitibus nudis, crispatis cincinnis dependentibus, camisiis flavis croco, vel liumana urina infectis, manicis largioribus, tuniculis bre- vioribus et lacernis billosis." Camd. ad. an. 1 562. Chinese and Americans are in the present day. Ke was received with courtesy, and is described as having cast himself on his knees before the queen, and with a loud and wailing voice begged pardon for his rebellion. He was then interrogated upon the mui-der of the baron of Dungannon, and the seizure of Tyrone, to which he replied by the explanation already given in his meeting with Sir Hem-y Sid- ney; on which he was honoin-ably dismissed, and returned to Ireland, and landed at Howth on the 25th of May. When Shane O'Neale went to Eng-land, lord Sussex had been sent for by the queen, to give a distinct account of Irish affairs, and Sir William Fitz- William was sworn in to govern during- his absence. Sussex returned in July, and again took the oaths in St Patrick's church, the roof of Chi'ist church having fallen in two months before, on the 3d of April, 1562. As O'Neale continued quiet, he was for some time enabled to attend to the execution of various measures for the improvement and security of the country. Among the chief of these may be mentioned the division of the reduced districts into coun- ties ; Annaly was called Longford ; and Connaught was divided into Clare, Galway, Sligo, Mayo, Roscommon, and Leitrim.* Things could not continue long in this quiet state. O'Neale was little the wiser for the lessons he had received from experience and a life of struggle. He was surrounded by followers, kinsmen and friends, still ruder than himself. The general atmosphere of boasting and barbaric pride in which he breathed, may be feebly illustrated by a story from Ware. " A kinsman of his (O'Neale's) named Hugh O'Neale, drinking in company with the collector of the archbishop of Armagh's revenues, at Drogheda, was heard to swear by his soul, that his cousin was a patient fool, and so were his ancestors, in taking an earldom from the kings of England, when by right themselves were kings. He further added, by way of question to the bishop's servant, ' Is it not so?' The man was glad to comply, and say it was sers of the principal inhabitants of Limerick and the neighbouring- counties, both those of English descent and the aboriginal Irish, repaired to meet him. They complained of the Avaste and misery occasioned by their g-reat men; they entreated him for English forces to protect them, and English sherifts to execute the laws. They also sought permission to surrender their lands and to hold them of the queen. The counties of Kerry and Tipperary, being palatinate counties, he did not visit; but in the letter from which we make these extracts, he states, in the strongest manner, his conviction that no perfect reformation could exist in Munster till the privileges claimed by the carls palatine were abolished, and the grants resvmied. Drury did not wait for the slow process of legislation, or for any formal resumption of the grants ; he disregarded the old patents under which Desmond claimed his privileges, and determined, as lord-presi- dent of Munster, to hold his courts within the privileged territories, which had become a sanctuary for every malefactor who sought tu escape justice. Desmond resisted, and with warmth pleaded his pala- tine rights. When he found resistance useless, he spoke of an appeal to the lord-deputy, and still protesting against the usurpation, said, that as the lord-president was determined to hold his court in Kerry, it was his duty respectfully to submit, and he invited Drury, when his pro- gress led him through that part of Kerry, to reside in his castle at * Sentk'gcr. GERALD, SIXTEENTH EAEL OF DESMOND. 439 Tralee. Drury was unsuspicious, and he travelled through the coun- try with an attendance of but six or seven scoi-e men. As he approached the castle of Tralee, he was astonished to behold a body of seven or cig-ht hundred armed men, who shouted violently as the president's little party approached. It was a moment of serious alarm, and the president, having consulted with his company, chai'ged the armed party, who in the instant retired and dispersed among the woods, without returning the charge. The countess of Desmond soon after approached. She assured the president that the body of men whom he supposed to be enemies had never intended hostilities, that the shouts which ho mistook for battle-cries were the national mode of welcome ; that the earl had assembled his principal friends and retainers to greet the lord-president; and that they were assembled to entertain him with the sport of hunting— the favourite pastime of the country. Drury believed, or affected to believe this account of the matter, which was probably true. He accepted the hospitality of the earl, but pursued his determination, and held his courts and sessions through the whole of the earl's palatinate. Desmond's complaint had the show, perhaps the reality, of right, though in favour of Drury it must be said that In the original patent creating the palatinate certain pleas were reserved to the crown, and only cognizable by the king's judges. Desmond, too, on his late submis- sion, had made an absolute surrender of all his lands to the queen, with promises to execute any conveyances she might direct of them. Fierce hostility, however, against Drury, was the result of the experiment made of invading the earl's territory. The negotiations of the discontented in Ireland with the continen- tal states, did not cease during this troubled time. Stukely, an adven- turer of English birth, a man of profligate habits and desperate for- tunes, was actively engaged at the court of Rome, and the writers who relate the events of this period tell us that he succeeded in persuading Gregory the XIII., who was then supreme pontiff, that nothing could be easier than to obtain the throne of Ireland for an Italian nobleman, the nephew or son* of Gregory. The invasion and conquest of Ire- land Avas to be the work of Spain. When this island was won, the rest of her dominions might soon be torn from Elizabeth, and the crown of England was to be Philip's reward. Eight hundred Italians were raised for this service, and placed under Stukely's command. They were to be paid by the king- of Spain. Gregory, who seems already to have regarded Ireland as his own, had the audacity to confer upon Stukely the titles of Marquis of Leinster and earl of Wexford and Car- low. The impression of Stukely's military talents was such as to occasion considerable alai'm to the government. All danger, how- ever, from that quarter was soon at an end. He had embarked at Civlta Veccliia, and arrived at Lisbon at the time when Sebastian was setting out on the romantic African expedition which had such a dis- astrous termination. Sebastian succeeded In persuading him to join him in this expedition, promising that on their return he would assist In the invasion of Ireland. The consent of the hing of Spain was easily obtained to this arrangement. Stukely fought gallantly at * Hume calls him his nephew, Cox, Leland, Phelan, anil Sharon Turner, his son. 410 THE FITZGERALDS. Alcazar, holding- in his hand the banner of Portugal ; but was, on the day of battle, murdered by the Italian soldiers whom he had involved ia this unfortunate adventure.* A cloud which has never been dis- persed rests upon the fate of Sebastian, At the same time that Stukely was engaged in his negotiations with Rome, Fitz-Maurice, burning with indignation at the humiliating condi- tion to which he had been exposed by Drury, repaired first to Spain, and afterwards to the court of France, and urged upon Henry with anxiety the invasion of Ireland. After two years of lingering expec- tation he was contemptuously dismissed by the king with a promise that he would intercede with the queen of England for his j^ardon. He left France and returned to Spain, where his communications were better received. Philip sent him to the pope. Saunders, an English ecclesiastic, distinguished for his hatred of the reformed doctrines, and Allen, an Irish Jesuit, were able to satisfy the pope of the probable success of an Irish insurrection. A banner exhibiting the arms of the holy see, was consecrated with many religious ceremonies, and delivered to Fitz-]\Iaurice. Proclamations were issued, addressed to the people of Ireland, in which Elizabeth was described as " that evil woman who has departed from the Lord, aud the Lord from her."f An expedi- tion was resolved upon at once. About fourscore Spaniards, and some English and Irish fugitives, with Allen and Saunders, embarked with Fitz-Maurice. Saunders was appointed legate by Gregory. They landed in the beginning of July, ISVy, at Smerwicke, or St Marywicke, on the western coast of Kerry, and built a fort in the west side of the bay. "The two doctors," says Hooker, "hallowed the place" after the manner of their religion, and assured the invaders that no enemy should dare to come upon them, " and yet," he adds, " they w^ere beguiled." A ship of war, commanded by a Devonshire man, Thomas Coui'tenay, was at the time lying in the bay of Kinsale. Hemry Davels, a name that has before occurred and must again be mentioned in this narrative, suggested to Courtenay the practicability of taking the three vessels in which the Spaniards had arrived, which were at anchor near Smerwicke. The wind was favourable. Courtenay doubled the point of land and succeeded in takmg the vessels, thus cutting off from the invaders all power of retreat. Intelligence of their landing was soon communicated to John and James of Desmond, the earl's brothers, and through them to the whole country. They had looked for the return of Fitz-Maurice, and immediately repaired to him with all their tenants and retainers. The earl, on hearing that the Spaniards liad landed, made immediate preparations to resist them, and wrote to the earl of Clancare to assemble such forces as he could command, and join him in attacking the enemy at Smerwicke. M'Carthy came, but seeing reason to distrust the earl's sincerity, he ceased to act with him, and dismissed his company. Sidney had left Ireland in the May of the preceding year, and Drury, the late president of Munster, held the office of lord-justice. As Sidney entered the vessel which was to convey him to England, he was heard to recite, in a lamenting tone, the words with which the hundred and fourteenth Psalm commences: — " When Israel went out * Evans's old ballads, vol. ii. \ Plielan's Remains, Vol. ii. GERALD, SIXTEENTH EAEL OF DESMOID. 441 of Egiijit, the house oj' Jacob from a people of a sti-ange language" &c. A wiser or a better man than Sidney never held in Ireland the perilous and thanldess office of viceroy. But our immediate task is the biography of Desmond, and other opportunities will occur in the course of our work to exhibit the sound policy of the course of govern- ment which he sought to establish. " The Romish cocatrice," says Hooker, " which had long sat upon her eggs, had now hatched her chickens." By this metaphor does he describe the religious insur- rections in the south of Ireland. When Drury learned that Fitz-Mau- rice had landed with his Spaniards, he ordered Henry Davels to sum- mon Desmond and his brothers to prepare themselves to assist him in attacking- the fort at Smerwicke. Davels, after an interview with the Desmonds, inspected the fort, and returned to the earl endeavouring to persuade him that it could be easily taken. The earl's heart, it would seem, was with the Spaniards, and on one pretence or another he declined the service. '' My shot," said the earl, " is more meet to shoot at wild fowl, than to adventure such a piece of service. My gallowglasses are good men to encounter with gallowglasses, and not to answer old soldiers." Davels and Carter, the provost martial, who accompanied him on this errand, took leave of the earl on their return to the lord-justice. They rested for the night near Desmond's castle of Ti*alee, in a victualling'-house or wine tavern ; the house being- strong and defensi- ble.* Their servants were dispersed wherever they could find lodg- ings in the adjoining town. John of Desmond had secretly followed Davels to Tralee, and bribed the person in whose house he lodg-ed to leave the gates and doors open. Davels and Carter, suspecting nothing, retired to their beds. At midnight they were suddenly awakened from sleep by the glare of lights, and the voices of men in their chamber, with swords drawn. When Davels recognised John of Desmond, his confidence was for a moment restored — for he and John of Desmond had been for a long time to all appearance at- tached friends. During the earlier part of the earl's imprisonment, Davels had been associated with Sir John in the temporai-y government of the earl's territories. He had assisted him in the various exigencies in which his turbulent spirit for ever involved him — had with his money released him from prison more than once, and was even the means of saving his life when charged with capital crimes. The rela- tion between them seemed to be that of father and adopted child, '■•My son," said Davels, "what is the matter?" The answer of Des- mond was, "no more of son, no more o{ father; make thyself ready, for die thou shalt;" and immediately he and his men struck at Davels and Carter, and murdered them. The strange motive assigned for this fiendish atrocity, by all the writers who record it, is that the Spaniards were disti-ustful of the sincerity of the Desmonds — and that John com- mitted this dreadful act to prove to them that he was pledged to their cause, as far as utter hopelessness of reconciliation with the govern- ment, which such an act would render impossible, could pledge him. * Hooker. Other writers describe the murder as taking place in the castle of Tralee. 442 THE FITZGERALDS. Fitz-Maurice, when he heai'd of the manner of Davels' death, was shocked. To murder a man naked in his bed, " when he might have had advantage of him, either by the highways or otherwise, to his commendation," was not consistent with Fitz-Maurice's notions of fair dealing with either friend or enemy. The earl, too, was grieved and offended, and it was thought that this act would separate him for ever from his brother ; but the earl was the weakest of men, and seems to have been a mere instrument in the hands of others. At this time there was with him an Englishman, Applesby, whom the fate of Davels taught apprehension for himself. He succeeded in persuading the earl to retire to his castle of Askeaton, in the county of Limerick, there to wait the lord-justice's arrival, and to join with him in serving against the insurgents. The earl followed the advice so far as remov- ing to Askeaton, where " he lay close and did nothing," He affected to disapprove of Fitz-Maurice's doing-s, but did nothing to discounte- nance his followers from joining his standard. The Spaniards, in spite of numbers of the country people repairing to Smerwicke, felt that they were not supported as they had been given reason to hope — and Fitz-Maurice found some difficulty in keeping them together. He de- termined to see what his own presence would do in rousing the disaf- fected in Ulster and Connaught, and with this view left the fort, tellinc the Spaniards that he would first go to Holy Cross, in Tipperai-y, to perform a vow made by him in Spain. Journeying with three or four horsemen and a dozen kernes, he passed through the coimty of Limerick and came into the country of Sir William de Burgo, his kinsman, and who had joined actively with him in the insurrection of a few years before. Fitz-Maurice's horses were fatigued, and could go no farther; he seized some which he saw ploughing in a field and pressed them into his service. The horses were De Burgo's, whose sons, as soon as they heard of this depredation, pursued Fitz-Maurice's party. A quarrel ensued, and the skirmish became earnest and furious. Two of the De Burgos were slain — and Fitz-Maurice, shot with a bullet through the head, shared their fate. The loyal indignation of the lord-justice was w^asted on the corse of Fitz-Maurice. The dead body was exposed on a gibbet, and the head set over one of the town gates of Kilmallock. The queen wrote to Sir William de Burgo a letter of thanks and of condolence — and created him baron of Castle Connell. De Burgo was old and feeble; and the emotion of these events was more than he covUd bear. He fainted while reading the queen's letter, and died soon after. On the death of Fitz-Maurice, Sir John Desmond assumed the com- mand of the Spaniards at Smerwicke — and soon afterwards had letters from Rome, appointing him general in the place of Fitz-Maurice. Drury, on hearing of the murder of Davels, marched to the south. His whole disposable force was four hvmdred foot, and two hundred horse. He had with him of Englishmen, Sir Nicholas Malbie ; Wingtield, master of the ordnance ; Waterhouse, Fitton, and Masterson. Some of the Irish lords, who brought forces of their own, accompanied him. They were the earl of Kildare ; Sir Lucas Dillon, chief baron ; lord Mountgarret, the baron of Upper Ossory, and the baron of Dunboyne. They brought about two hunch-ed horsemen, besides footmen and kernes. They GERALD, SIXTEENTH EAEL OF DESMOND. 443 marched by as rapid journies as they could till they came to Kilmallock, where they encamped. Driiry wrote to the earl of Desmond and the chief persons in the neighbom-hood, calling' upon them to assist him. The earl came to Drury's camp, with a formidable company of both horse and foot. Suspicions, however, of his loyalty arose of such a kind, that Drury committed him to the custody of the knight marshal. He made new protestations and promises, and was released from custody. The earl was scarcely at freedom, when news was brought to Drury that John of Desmond was encamped with a great company of rebels, upon the borders of Sllevelogher. For nine weeks he left the royal army no rest either night or day, and on one occasion succeeded in cutting off two parties of one hundred men each, under the command of Captains Herbert and Price; Price and Herbert were both slain. Additional forces arrived from England, and Sir John Perrot, the late president, landed at Cork, with six ships of war to guard the coast, and deprive the rebels of all foreign assistance. The earl of Desmond no sooner obtained his liberty, than he separated from Drury, send- ing occasional letters, but avoiding to give any assistance. The coun- tess of Desmond waited upon Drury, pleading- in behalf of her husband, and she placed in his hands her only son, as a hostage for the earl's fidelity. This campaign was too much for Drury's health; he placed the command of the army in the hands of Sir Nicholas Malbie, and went by easy stages to Waterford ; Drury felt that he was dying ; his last act was an effoi't to serve the queen by encouraging as far he could the officers sent with Perrot to active exertion. At Kilmallock he had bestowed the honour of knighthood on Bourchier, Stanley, Carew, Moore, and he now almost at the moment of death gave the same honour to Pelham, Gorges, Thomas Perrot, son and heir of Sir John Perrot, and to Patrick Welsh, mayor of Waterford. Malbie's first act, after Drury's retirement to Waterford, was to send for the earl of Desmond, who received his letters, and on one frivolous pretence or another, refused to leave his castle of Askeaton, whither he had again retreated. Malbie, on finding all applications to the earl were worse than fruitless, abandoned him to his inevitable fate. Malbie had great experience in military affairs, " having served under sundry kings and in strange nations." A student — a traveller, and an observer — how contrasted with the feeble and irresolute Des- mond, who thought that his shallow artifices were deceiving him ! His forces consisted of one hundred and fifty horse and nine hundred foot. He sent Bourchier, Dowdal, and Sentleger, to Kilmallock, with three hundred foot and fifty horse, to garrison that well fortified and well situated town, the importance of possessing which was felt alike by both parties ; with the rest of his company he marched to the city of Limerick, to recruit his harassed soldiers. He again sent to Desmond, but with the same unsatisfactory result. The same shallow duplicity still marked all the earl's answers. Malbie was encamped in the fields near Limerick, when intelligence was brought him that the rebel camp was at Connillo, some eight or nine miles off; he marched towards them, and " being come to an abbey called Manisternenagh, seven miles from Limerick, there ap- 444 THE FITZGEEALDS. peared a groat company in a plain field, both of horsemen and footmen, in estimation two thousand or thereabouts, marching' in battle arravj and had cast out their wings of shot, and placed every thing very well and orderly." Malble soon made his disposition to give them battle. John of Desmond, who was at the head of the insurgent's army, wished to avoid an engagement.but the ecclesiastic Allen, encouraged him with assurances of miraculous aid and certain victory. Sir John displayed the papal banner, placed his men, horse and foot, to the best advan- tage. In disposing his men, and making arrangements for the battle, he was assisted by the experience of the S^^anish officers, who had by this time abandoned their fort at Smerwicke, and Avere employed in for- tifying Desmond's castles, and disciplining his army for the field. " The governor," we borrow Hooker's language, " setteth onwards and giveth the onset upon them with his shot, who valiantly resisted the first and second volees, and answered the fight very well, even the couching of the pikes, that the matter stood very doubtful. But the Englishmen so fiercely and desperately set xipon them with the thu'd volee, that they were discomfited, and had the overthrow given them, and fled, John of Desmond put spurs to his horse, showing a fair pair of heels, which was better to him than two pair of hands." Two hundred of his men were slain, and among them Allen. The earl of Desmond, and the baron of Lixnaw, viewed the engage- ment from a wooded eminence, which, in memory of the day, with refe- rence to the original meaning- of the word Tory, is called Tory Hill. The patience of the English government with individuals seems as remarkable as their determination to rule the nation according to their own notions of policy. For certainly the engagements made by the Irish nobles, whether of Eng'lish or native descent, wei'e seldom entered into Avith good faith. Lixnaw's son had an office in the court of Elizabeth, and was now in Ireland on a A'isit to his father. His assist- ance Avas given to the rebels. We presers^e the language of provoca- tion into Avhich one of the historians of the period is excited. " He Avas no sooner come home, than awav Avith his English attire, and on Avith his brogs, his shirt, and other Irish rags, being become as A'ery a traitor as the veriest knave of them all, and so for the most part they are all, as daily experience teacheth, dissemble they never so much to the contrary. For like as Jupiter's cat, let her be trans- formed to never so fair a lady, and let her be never so well attired, and accompanied with the best ladies, let her be never so well esteemed and honoured, yet if the mouse come once in her sight, she Avill be a cat and shoAv her kind." The earl, AA'hen the victory was decided, wrote letters of congratu- lation to Malbie, which were coldly answered; a personal intervieAv was requested, which Desmond still evaded. In a few days he learned that papers had been found on Allen's person which left no doubt of the earl's participation in the treason of his brothers. Detection rendered him desperate. He attacked the English camp at Rathkeale, in person, on tAvo successive nights, and lost several of his people. Even after this, Malbie wrote to him, conjuring him to return to his allegiance. He replied, " that he owed no allegiance to the queen, and would no longer yield her obedience," and proceeded to fortify his castles of Askeaton and Carrigfoile. Malbie garrisoned Rathkeale, and pro- ceeded to attack Askeaton, when news was brought of Drury's death, which terminated Malbie's deputed authority. Sir William Pelham succeeded Drury as lord-justice. The earl of Ormonde was appointed governor of Munster. Pelham immediately pi'oceeded to the disturbed districts, and summoned Desmond to meet him at Cashel. Desmond did not attend, but sent his countess with some vague excuse. A council was called, and it was agreed that Ormonde should confer with the earl, and require his distinct answer to the following propositions: — 1st, That he should deliver up Doctor Saunders and the Spaniards. 2d, That he should deliver up either the castle of Askeaton, or of Carrigfoile, as a pledge of his good behaviour. 3dly, That he submit himself and his cause to the judgment of her majesty and council in England, or to the lord-justice and council in Ireland. 4thly, That he assist and aid the earl of Ormonde in prosecuting the war ag'ainst his brothers and other traitors. The interview was unavailing. Desmond's replies were evasive, and his only object seemed to be delay. Pelham then published a proclamation, declai'ing Desmond a traitor; lords Gormanstown and Delvin refused to sign the proclamation, for which they were afterwards severely reprimanded by the government of England.* Within an hour after the proclamation was issued, the countess of Desmond came to the camp, but the camp was already broken up, and Ormonde's soldiers were destroying before them whatever fire and sword could consume. The day the earl was proclaimed, he had already set up his standard at Ballyhowra, in the county of Cork. This place, which we call by its Irish name, is part of the mountain range which Spenser, who came over as secretary to lord Grey of Wilton, the next lord-deputy, has rendered familiar to the English reader by the name of Mole. Des- mond attacked and plundered Youg-hal, which he kept possession of for five days. The Irish annalists, disposed as they are to defend every act of his, describe him as not sparing even the churches; they tell of his soldiers " polluting- and defiling whatever was most sacred, bring- ing every thing to utter confusion and desolation, and making havoc as well of sacred vestments and chalices as of any other chattels." The Spaniards in Desmond's army were shocked at this wicked exploit, perceiving by the furniture and ornaments of the churches that the townsmen were all Catholics. They refrained from plunder, and were reproved by their Irish companions in arms; they answered, that they ought not to rob better Christians than themselves. " One of the Spaniards cut his cloak as St Martin did, in five parts, and distributed the same on five children that were stripped of their cloathes, and left naked by some of the kernes."j The subsequent calamities that befell Desmond and his illustrious house, are referred by the authorities to whom we owe these details, to the judgment of heaven against this sacrilege. Whatever plunder the town afforded, was carried off to the castles * Cov. I Tliratre of Catliolic find PiotCBtant rLciii^icn. Curry's Civil Wars. 140 THE FITZGEllALUS. of Strang-ieally and Lisfineen in the county of Waterford, which Avcre garrisoned bv Spaniards. Desmond himself retiunied to his old haunts in the county of Limerick. Ormonde, in a skirmish at Newcastle in that county, lost some of his men under circumstances that increased his fury against the earl. The policy of destroying every thing be- longing to the earl or his retainers, was now relentlessly acted on. Houses, towns, and villages, were everywhere devastated and de- stroyed. The mayor of Youghal, whose treachery or cowardice had surrendered that town to Desmond, was taken in Cashel, brought to Youghal, and hanged before his own door. On the entrance of the queen's army into Youg-hal, they found it all desolate, no one man, woman, or child, within the walls, except one friar. We regret that the friar's name is not preserved, for in those dreadful days he ventui-ed upon what must have been a dangerous act of humanity. He was at Tralee during the di'eadful ti'agedy of Davels' murder, and he brought the body of Davels to Waterford, that it might receive the rites of Chris- tian burial. Desmond had now so openly connected himself with the rebellion, that his sending an arrogant letter to the lord-justice, stating that he and his followers had entered into the defence of the Catholic faith, with authority from the pope, and in concert with the king of Spain, and calling on Pelham to join them, can scarcely be regarded as an ag- gravation of his treason. The lord-justice and Ormonde, early in the year 1580, entered Kerry, burnt the country up to the mountains of Sleevelogher, and slew four or five hundred men. Pelham then be- sieged Carrigfoile which was garrisoned with nineteen Spaniards and fifty Irish, commanded by Julio, an Italian engineer. The castle was taken, after considerable resistance, and the whole garrisoii put to the sword or hanged. Askeaton castle was, at the same time besieged. The garrison, fearins: the fate of that at Carrigfoile, contrived to evacuate the castle. They abandoned it at night, leaving a train of powder to set it on fire. Great part was consumed, but the principal towers remained uninjured. Every one of Desmond's castles were soon taken and garrisoned by the queen's forces. His vast estates were one wide scene of devas- tation. He himself, with his countess and with Saunders, wandered from one mountain fastness to another, in momentary fear of being taken. His youngest brother, James of Desmond, whose birth had but three and twenty years before been celebrated with unusual rejoicing, and at whose baptism lord-deputy Sussex bad attended, was seized in the act of carrying off a prey of cattle from the lands of Sir Cormac M'Carthy. The party who assisted him in this plunder must have been considerable, for an hundred and fifty of them are said to have been killed on this occasion by the M'Carthys. James was mortally wounded, taken prisoner, and executed with every circumstance of cruel indignity, in the city of Cork. The misfortunes of the surviving parties were aggravated by mutual recrimination, and John of Desmond and Saunders left the earl in the hope of being able to join lord Balt- inglass, who, Avith one of the Fitz-Geralds of Kildare, was in arms in KUdare. The garrison at Kilmallock intercepted their little party, GERALD, SIXTEENTH EARL OF DESMOXD. 447 which consisted but of four. Sir John and Saunders succeeded in escaping the immediate danger ; but being unable to elude the vigilance of the English so ii\r as to make their way to lord Baltinglass's ai'my, returned to their haunts in the mountain fastnesses of Aherlow. Of the others one was slain, and the fourth, a friar named Hayes, was taken, and supplied his captors with evidence of the earl's connexion with the treasons of his brothers, so far back as the time of Fitz- Maurice's landing with the Spaniards. This was felt of moment, as at the very date of the proclamation declaring him a traitor, there was but little evidence of any overt act of treason against him. Lord Grey of Wilton, the newly-appointed viceroy, had already arrived in Dublin with orders to spare no resources of the govern- ment in order at once to crush the rebellion in Ireland, and he was impatient of an hour's delay. Even before Pelham, the lord-justice, could return from the south to deliver to him the sword of state, he ordered the officers Avho waited upon him at his arrival, to proceed to dislodge from their haunts in the Wicklow mountains the formidable body of insurgents whom we have before mentioned, as under the command of lord Baltinglass. With Baltinglass was Plielim Mac- Hugh, chief of the sept of the O'Byrnes, and one of the Leinster Fitz- Geralds, a kinsman of the earl of Kildare. They were encamped in w'hat was then called " the fastness of the glen," the valley of Glen- dalough, about twenty miles from Dublin. The valley was one of considerable length, lying among lofty and abrupt hills, the soil marshy and sinking under the foot; and where a firmer footing could be obtained, perplexed with rocks which could not be passed without great difficulty even by men unencumbered with arms ; the sides of the steep mountains, through which the valley wound, were dark with ancient forest and underwood. The officers whom Grey ordered to this service, knew that he was leading them to almost inevitable de- struction, but did not venture to remonstrate. When Fitz-Gerald heard of this determination, he concealed him- self and his men among the trees on both sides of the valley, and when the English had advanced about half-a-mile, at one of the most entangled parts of the valley, they were fired upon with murderous execution ; Moore, Audley, Cosbie, and Sir Peter Carew, distinguished officers, were slain. George Carew, whom we shall have occasion to mention in the after wars of Ireland, was forcibly prevented by his uncle, Wingfield, the master of the ordnance, from joining his brother in this day's rash service. The party in advance, both officers and soldiers, were almost to a man slain; the rest retreated as they best could, scrambling over rocks and sinking amid marshes. Tlie Irish commenced a pursuit, but retired into their woods on the ap- proach of the deputy, who, with his staff and a party of horsemen, was stationed on the side of the mountain. He returned to Dublin, dis- pirited, and awaited the return of Pelham from the south of Ireland to be sworn into office. This success of the insvu'gents in Wicklow, gave the disaffected in Munster momentary hope, which was increased by the circumstance of vessels from Spain finding an opportunity of baffling the vigilance of admiral Winter, and landing at Smerwicke seven hundi-ed Spaniards, 448 THE FITZGEEALDS. Avith arms for five thousand men. Theybroug'ht cannon, ammunition, and money, which thej were directed to deliver to the carl of Des- mond, his brother John, and Saunders. They added new works to the fort which Fitz-Maurice had beg'un, and called their fortress the Fort del ore, or Golden Fortress. Ormonde marched against the invaders. On hearing- of his approach, they fled to the neighbouring woods of Glanigalt, a fastness resembling' in many points that of Glendalough, and equally dangerous to an invading enemy. Ormonde did not think of pursuing them to the desolate glens ancT precipitous hills, whither the greater part of them, led by the country people, escaped. While Ormonde rested for the night, a party of Spaniards, about three hun- dred, returned to their fortress, and re-occupied it. After sallies from the fort, and some skirmishes between the Spaniards and Ormonde, he retired to Ilathkeale, where he was met by the lord-deputy. Sir William Winter had now returned. Grey encamped as near the fort as he could, and Winter, with his vice-admiral Bingham, be- sieged it at sea. After considerable resistance, the fort, which the Spaniards described themselves as holding for the Pope and the king of Spain, was taken. The garrison sought to obtain terms: Grey would grant none. He was fighting, he said, against men who had no regular commission either from the king of Spain, or from the Pope, and who were but private adventurers giving their assistance to traitors. They surrendered at discretion — Wingfield disarmed them, and an English company then took possession of the fort. The commander, and a few of the ofiicers, were made prisoners of war. The garrison were put to the sword. This execrable service was executed by Raleigh. Grey is said to have shed tears at the determi- nation of the court-martial; and Elizabeth, to have expressed pain and displeasure at the event. On the continent, where a false statement was circulated of Grey's having made terms with the foreigners that they should be permitted to depart in safety, and with all the honours of war, the account was received with hoi'ror.* With the destruction of the Spanish fort, Desmond's last hope ex- pired. His extensive territories were one wild solitude — and he him- self a houseless fugitive, sheltering with a few of the humblest of his retainers among the woods. Famine and disease now came to add to the inflictions of war. Spenser has given a picture of the scene which, though often quoted, we cannot omit: — " Out of the corners of the woods and glens the natives came creeping forth upon their hands, for their legs could not bear them ; they looked like anatomies of death ; they spoke like ghosts ci-ying out of their graves; they did eat the dead carrions, happy when they could find them, yea, and one another soon after; insomuch as the very carcasses they spared not to scrape out of their graves ; and if they found a plot of water-cresses or sham- rocks, there they flocked as to a feast for the time, yet not able to continue therewithal, that in short space, there was none almost left, and a most plentiful and populous country suddenly left void of man and beast."! A yet more shocking account is given by another falthworthy writer * Li'laud. Camden. \ Spenser. State of Ireland. We feel it a painful duty to transcribe the loathsome details, that the horrors which accompany civil war may be if possible fully felt. We slightly abridge the language of our authority: — " Famine followed; whom the sword did not destroy, the same did consume and eat out. They were not only driven to eat horses, dogs, and dead carrion, but also the carcasses of dead men. In Cork, a malefactor was executed, and left on the gallows. The poor people came secretly, took him down and ate him. A ship was wrecked at Smerwicke, and the dead bodies which were washed on shore, were devoured greedily. The • land itself, which before these wars, was populous and well inhabited, was now become barren both of man and beast. From one end of Munster to another, from Waterford to Smerwicke, a distance of one hundred and twenty miles, no man, woman, or child was to be met except in the towns, nor any beast but the very wolves, the foxes, and other like ravening beasts."* Several narrow escapes of Desmond from the parties in pursuit of him and his brother, are recorded. The movements of John were be- trayed by one of his associates to Zouch, a distinguished English officer, who succeeded in coming up with him. He was killed by Zouch's party. His head was sent to Dublin — his body to Cork, where it was exposed hanging by the heels over the north g'ate of the city. His head was placed on one of the turrets of Dublin castle. We wish that we could suppi'ess all record of such acts as these. Their effect is to create ferocity, demoniacal cruelty, and burning revenge. Saunders sunk under the fatigues of a wandering life — he was found dead in the woods — his body mutilated by wolves and birds of prey. The earl had now survived all his brothers — his son was in the hands of Elizabeth — his countess, occasionally sharing- his abject for- tunes, occasionally seeking interviews with such of the court as she thought would assist her in obtaining any terms for her unhappy hus- band. Allen and Saunders were both dead. The unhappy earl had none to advise with, but some hunted priest, or poor g'allowglass, or wood- kerne. In his misery he wrote to Ormonde a letter, which we trans- cribe. — " My lord, great is my grief, when I think how heavily her majesty is bent to disfavor me; and howbeit, I carry the name of an undutiful subject, yet God knoweth that my heart and mind are always most loyally inclined to serve my most loving prince, so it may please her highness to remove her displeasure from me. As I may not con- demn myself of disloyalty to her majesty, so I cannot excuse my faults, but must confess I have incurred her majesty's indignation; yet when the cause and means which were found to make me commit folly shall be known to her highness, I rest in an assured hope that her most gracious majesty will think of me as my heart deserveth, as also of those who wrong my heart with undutifulness. From my heart I am sorry that folly, bad counsels, slights, or any other things, have made me forget my duty; and therefore, I am most desirous to get con- ference with your lordship, to the end I may open and declare to you, how tyraneously I was used; humbly craving- that you will appoint some time and place, when and where I may attend your honour; and * Chronicles of Ireland in continuation of Holinsl>.ed. I. 2 F Ir. 450 THE FITZGEKALDS. then I doubt not to make it appear how dutiful a mind I carry; how faithfully I have, at my own charg-e, served lier majesty before I was proclaimed; how sorrowful I am for my offences, and how faithfully I am affected ever hereafter to serve her majesty: and so I commit your lordship to God. (Subscribed) Girald Desmond." This letter was disregarded. We approach the termination of this tragical story. Desmond continued to hide himself in woods and bogs, shifting his quarters often, both for the purpose of concealment, and because his whole means of subsistence was derived from the suc- cess of his followers in taking preys of cattle. In the earl's better days, such exactions were not unknown, and the customs of the coun- try clothed them with some pretence of right, when the demand was confined to the cattle of his own vassals. In the present exigencies or the earl, the same acts were felt as plunder. In the autumn of 1582, the earl had his retreat in the mountains above Gleneefy, and in the fastness of Aherlow ; in the winter " he kept his christmas" in Kil- quieg wood, near Kilmallock. His hiding place was discovered by the garrison at Kilmallock, and an eii'ort made to surprise and take him was nearly successful. A Avide river, swelled at that time by the winter rains, between Kilquicg and Kilmallock, must be crossed before the earl's cabin could be reached. The party who thought to have taken him crossed the river on rafts made of hurdles. At break of day they were at the carl's cabin, but the underwood grew so close round this misei*able place of shelter, and the ground at the side of the house was so miry that the military party moved at a few spears' paces from the walls ; before they reached the door the earl was alarm- ed by the noise of their approach, and ran into the river that flowed by the cabin. Pie was accompanied by the countess, and the soldiers searched the place in vain. Dowdal, the captain of the garrison at Kilmallock, led the party engaged in the pui'suit of Desmond. The earl, di-iven from Kilquieg, returned to the Aherlow mountains. Some three score gallowglasses now joined him. Their mode of sus- tenance was by such plunder of cattle as we have before mentioned. " Like a sort of deer," says one of the old chroniclers of the period, " they lay upon their keepings, and so fearful were they, that they would not tarry in any one place any long time ; but where they did dress their meat, thence would they remove and eat it in another place, and from thence into another place to lie. In the night they would watch, in the forenoons they would be upon the hills and vallies to descry the country, and in the afternoon they would sleej)." A detach- ment from the garrison at Kilmallock surprised them in the night, when some were asleep, and some feeding upon a horse which they had just stolen, for they were without other food. INIost of them were slain. When this party of gallowglasses was destroyed, the rest of the Irish rebels were so dismayed that all distui'bances ceased in Munster. The earl, thus hunted from the mountuins of Limerick and Tipper- ary, repaired to Kerry, and was discovered by lord Roche's men, and Dowdal, his indefatigable pursuer, to be lurking In the woods near Dingle. Goron M'Swiney, one of the captains of gallowglasses, who, GEEALD, SIXTEENTH EARL OF DESMOND. 451 a lew years before, had made his appearance at Cork to welcome Sidney in his vicereg'al prog'ress, was, with his brother Moyle Mur- rough M'Swiney, still with Desmond, and by plunders of cattle supported their little company. Goron was slain in one of those marauding- expeditions by some of the country people, whose cattle he was driv- ing- away. No garrison was yet jjlaced at Dingle, and the earl continued to take, as he best could, cattle in the neighbourhood, chieHy from such as had forsaken his cause, and placed themselves under the protec- tion of the English. Desmond, on one of these occasions, sent two horsemen and one of his wood-kernes to take a prey of cattle from the neighbourhood of Castlemagne, on the strand of Tralee. Among the cattle taken were those of a poor woman, of the name of Moriarty. The cattle were her only property, and she and her brother followed the track of the plun- derers. At Castlemagne the constable of the castle gave them the assistance of some ammunition and a few wood-kernes. The party was in all three and twenty — one of whom, Kelly, an Irishman by birth, but who had in these wars served under the Eng-Iish, they made their captain. JMoriarty, who was well acquainted with the country, under- took to be their guide. They followed the track of the kine till they came to the side of a mountain, and a winding path led them to the deep and wooded valley of Glanikilty. It was now night, and they thought to have rested for the night in the shelter of the wood. The g-limmering of a fire among the trees at a little distance attracted their notice, and one of them cautiously approached and saw through the windows of a ruinous old house hve or six persons sitting by a wood fire. The party immediately determined on ascertaining whether these were the men in pursuit of whomthoy came. They retired for a moment to consult how their object might best be effected. Before their return all had departed but one man of venerable appearance, who lay stretched before the fire. Kelly struck the old man with his sword, and almost cut off one of his arms ; he struck at him again, and gave him a severe wound upon one side of the head. The old man cried out " spare me, I am the earl of Desmond." The appeal was one which he knew was not under any circumstances likely to be made in vain. If no feeling of compassion for fallen greatness could be ex- pected to stay Kelly's hand, still his avarice or ambition might be interested, for though large rewards were offered for Desmond's head, yet the great object of the government was, as all their proclamations expressed, to take him alive. The appeal was unfortunately too late. He was too severely wounded to be easily removed, and Kelly Avas perhaps afraid of the arrival of some of his retainers. Kelly bade him prepare himself to die, and smote off his head. It was brought to Ormonde — sent by him to the queen — and impaled on London bridge. His body was concealed by his followers ; and after several weeks interred in the little chapel of Killanamanagh, not far from Castle Island. For many a long year after the earl's death there was a popular belief that the place where he died was still red with his blood.* The persons instrumental in his death were the object of detestation to the Irish, and in every unfortunate incident that from time to time * O'SuIlivan, 452 THE FITZGERALDS. occurred in their families, there \vas a disposition to read judgments inflicted upon them by heaven for the destruction of this champion of the faith. Kelly had his reward. For some thii'ty years he continued to receive a pension from the government; but the detestation of his own countrymen rendei'ed it necessary for him to live in London, and the Abb6 M'Geogeghan, with evident delight, tells of his being at last hanged for highway robbery. Desmond was attainted, and liis vast estates vested in the crown by act of parliament. That act was obtained with difticulty. A feoft- ment of his lands, made by him several years before, to one of the Munster Geraldines, was produced for the purpose of defeating the forfeiture. As proof, however, was given of tliis Fitz-Gerald being liimsclf implicated with the earl in treason before the date of the con- veyance, the houses of parliament, in the excitement of the moment, disregarded the instrument, and no longer hesitated to pass the acts of attainder and forfeiture. The lands thus forfeited included almost the entire of four counties, and contained 574-,628 acres. JAMES, THE SUGAN EARL OF DESMOND. The fifteenth Earl of Desmond having divorced his first wife Joan, daughter of Lord Fermoy, on tlie plea of consanguinity, and married a second ; the title and inheritance were transferred by settlement from Thomas, his son by the first wife, to his son by tlie second, Gerald, the unfortunate earl, whose history has already been given at length in this volume. In tlie mean time, tlie son thus set aside, grew up and obtained possession of a suflicient inheritance in the county of Cork, where he built the castle of Conoha, in which he spent his life in quiet ; pru- dently forbearing to entangle himself in tlie sea of disturbance, in which so many of liis race had been wrecked. He married a daughter of lord Poer, by whom lie had three sons and a daughter. On the attainder of his unfortunate uncle, the sixteenth earl, James, the eldest of these, was induced to plunge into the troubles which were beginning' to rise to an unprecedented height, and to menace destruction to the English possessions in Ireland. It was a subject of deep irritation to see an inheritance to which the obstruction to his own claim was now removed, in the hands of the English undertakers, and his last hope of obtaining redress, was reduced to the chances of rebellion. These chances seemed now to multiply in appearance; rebellion was beginning- to assume a more concentrated form ; the dis- cipline of the Irish was increasing under the ceaspless activity of Hugh O'Donell, the cautious policy of Tyrone, which matured rebellion on a broad basis ; and the enmity of Spain ag'ainst the queen, which promised effectual aid. Such were the motives which led this claim- ant of the earldom to join Tyrone, of Avhose rebellion, his will be found to form the regular preliminary; so that we are led to pass in the natural order of events, from one to the other. In 1598, he was raised by Tyrone's authority to the title of earl of Desmond. The earl of Tyrone, whose history virtually comprehends that of all the other insurgent chiefs of his time, had first sent Owny JAMES, THE SUGAN EAEL OF DESMOND. 453 Bl'Rory, with captain Tyrrel, and a considerable body of men, into Munster. for the purpose of awakening and giving- a strong impulse to rebellion in that quarter. And, according to the account of the earl of Totnc'ss, who • conducted this war to its conclusion, he shortly fol- lowed himself. Those whom he found in rebellion he confirmed, and from those who were doubtful he took pledges. But of all those whose influence he courted, as the most efficient in the south, the heir of the estates and principles of the princely and ever vebellious house of Desmond stood foremost in his estimation. From the white knight he took pledges ; Donald McCarthy he deposed, and in his place raised Florence M'Carthy to the title and authority of M'Carthy More. On good subjects he inflicted the punishment of fire and sword: but the Sugan earl Avas his chief object and hope in Munster. The Sugan earl began his career by a descent on the estates of the brave and loyal lord Barry, with a small tumultuary force of 100 kerne, and drove away 300 cows and 10 horses. The lord-president early adopted a system of action, which in the Munster rebellion he found in a considerable degree available. The operation of fear and self-interest had a material influence with its leaders, who were not like those of the north, strengthened in the secure and unshaken hold of their vast possessions: —Desmond and M'Carthy were scarcely seated in their authority : andDermond O'Conor was a soldier of fortune, whose reputation as a soldier, along with his marriage with a daughter of the old earl of Desmond, were in reality his chief claims to authority. These were, nevertheless, the heads of the rebellion, and if allowed, likely to gather a degree of power, which might, considering the state of Ulster, become diffi- cult to cope with. The jDresident therefore tried the effect of separ- ate treaties, and had the address to divide these shallow but danger- ous spirits. Florence M'Carthy was awed into a temporai'y neutrality, and O'Conor was easily detached from liis rebel kinsman. Dermond O'Conor had been appointed by Tyrone to the command of his men, whom he left in Munster ; and being retained for pay, was therefore considered by the president as a fit person for his pur- pose. For this and other considerations, he assailed O'Conor through his wife, who, being a sister to the son of the late earl, at the time confined in the Tower, would be the more likely to take a strong part against the pretender. It was through this lady settled with O'Conor, that he should take Desmond prisoner, and deliver his person up to the president, for which service he should receive £1000, and be ap- ])ointed to a company in the queen's service. Dermond also stipulated for hostages, which were granted. The lord-president selected four j^ersons who were likely to be safe in his hands, and to prevent suspi- cion they were met taken as prisoners by a party of Dermond's men sent to meet them for the purpose. In the mean time, each party pursued its preparation. The jiresi- dent contrived to spread a premature alarm, which brought together the rebel forces in the forest of Kilmore, between Moyallo and Kil- mallock, where they waited for ten days in daily expectation of the enemy: after which, having consumed their provisions and wearied con- jecture, they were forced to separate. By this contrivance the presi- 454 THE FITZGERALDS. dent was enabled to scatter the rebel force, and at the same timo ascertain its extent. The following- letter, from Desmond to Florence M'Carthy, was written l7th May, and may serve to give a view of his condition at the time, as well as of the motives which he thought most likely to be influentially put forward. Letter to Florence M'^Carthi/. " After my vei-y heartie commendations, having- received inteligence of your happie escape out of Corke, it was very joyfull to mee and many other your cosens and adherents heere; the fruite of your conference with the president, and the rest, I hope shall purchase ripe experience, and harvest of further knowledge, to cut off the cruell yoke of bloody enemies, who daily studie to worke our perpetuall destruction and exile: I am given to understand, that they pretend a journey towards the countie of Limerick, I am gathering' the best force, and rising out of these parts to resist their wicked desires: Redmond Burke is bordering on the confines of Ormonde, expecting to heare from me, if occasion of important service shoidd require, I have the other day received his letters signifying his constant service, to be ready when- soever I shall send to him, what news you have with your best advice in all causes tending- to our generall service, I expect to heare, and if the president doe rise out (as it is thought), I pray you goode coseu slacke not time, with your best force and provision of victuals to pro- secute him freshly in the reare-ward, as you respect me, the exaltation of the Catholike faith, and the ease of our countrey: I looke no excuse at your hands, which I pray to lay apai-t, wherein you shall further the service, and bind nie Avith all my forces to second you at your need. I have retained Dermond O'Conor in Kerry, two hundred souldiers this quarter, besides the Clanshikies and other borroghs with the rising out of my country, so as I think, I shall make \x\t sixteen or seventeeno hundred sti'ong, well appointed, together with the force of Redmond Burke. Thus for the lacke of farther novelties, I com- mit you to the blessed guiding of God. From Crome the seventeenth of May, 1600. " I am credibly informed, that five Spanish ships are landed in the north, with treasure, munition, and great ordinance, with a competent number of three thousand soldiers, pioneers, and religious persons, I expect every day advertisement in writing, and the coming* up of captain Ferrell, with the munition sent me by O'Neyle. I appointed your cosen Maurice Oge, Fitz-Maurice Gerald, to have the charge of Keirrycorrle, I pray you afford him your lawfull favour. " Yovu' most assured cosen, " James Desmond." Previous to Dermond O' Conor's attempt on the Sugan earl, another plan of the same nature was tried to be executed against his brother, John of Desmond. A person of the name of Nugent, who had been a servant to Sir John Norris, had on some real or imagin- ary grievance joined the rebel party, and, being a person of great valour, and activity, and resolution, became quickly very formidable in Munster. About the time in which we are now engaged, he saw JAMES, THE SUGAN EAEL OF DESMOND. 455 reason to return to the English, and came to the commissioners St Leger and Power, who sent him to the president. The president in- ibrmed him, that after his great crimes, he could only expect to be taken into favour by the perfoi-mance of some good service, in consi- deration of which he might expect pardon and recompense. Nugent offered to " ruine Avithin a short time," either the pretended earl or .John his brother. The president, relying on the plot already prepared for the earl, accepted his offer for the other. To prevent suspicion, lie was brought before the council and reprimanded with great severity, his petition for mercy rejected, and himself only dismissed on the faith of the queen's word. John Fitz-Thomas, as he is commonly named, was keeping possession of an island in Lough Gur, on which there was a strong castle, well garrisoned, and from its position till then impregnable. This place the president considered it to be of the first importance to reduce, as it rendered the way unsafe between Kilmallock and Limerick. Hither on the 25th May, 1600, the president marched from Brough, and made all necessary preparation for the siege. But the cost and delay of this difficult undertaking were saved ; the person to Avhom John Fitz-Thomas gave the charge of the castle, delivered it up for the sum of £60. On receiving- possession of this castle, the president marched on, and John Fitz-Thomas came from the island towards the " fastnesses of Arlough," where most of his men were. Nugent fol- lowed at some small distance, accompanied by a person named Cop- pinger, whose aid he had, as he thought, secured. Approaching gradually to his intended victim, he came within pistol shot. He then drew ovit a pistol charged with two bullets, and was raising It to take aim, when unexpectedly the pistol was wrested from his grasp by his companion, who at the same Instant shouted "treason." Nugent turned to escape, but in turning too sharply his horse fell, and he was taken and hanged next day. The effect of this incident was to put John of Desmond in continual fear, and as Nugent before his death mentioned, that it had been his Intention to have immediately repaired to the earl, and under pretence of giving him the account, to have also killed him: the same fear wa* communicated to the earl, who afterwards acknowledged to. the president, that he and his brother never durst lodge together In one place, or even serve at the head of their troops, for fear of being shot by some of their own men. The execution of Dermond O'Conor's stratagem was now to be furthered by a movement of the president. As the capture of the Sugan earl was rendered both difficult and dangerous by the presence of his army. It was thought advisable to induce him to dismiss it by the division and separate cantonment of the English, who were for the purpose ordered to several garrisons In possession of the English. It fell out accordingly, when the president had, to the great surprise and dissatisfaction of his officers, thus distributed his troops, the Irish were allowed to scatter away to their homes. Shortly after, all being prepared, O' Conor sent a messenger to the Sugan earl, desiring a con- ference on the 18th June, to arrange some operations for the conduct of the war. The earl accordingly came ; his suspicion had been Slightly roused by some secret intelligen<'e, which he did not, however, credit; he came nevertheless attended by 200 foot: O'Conor brought with him 150. A quarrel seemingly accidental, was easily excited, and under the pretence of interference quickly spread until the tumult became confused enough to aflFord a pretext for any construction: O'Conor easily found an excuse to be angry, and to affect the suspi- cion of some treasonable intention. Unsuspicious of design and only desirous to appease him, the Sugan earl offered to dismiss his kernes. The offer was insidiously accepted, and they were at once removed to some distance from the place of parley. This having been adjusted, the bonnoghs or men of O'Conor drew round the place where they stood, and O'Conor laid hold of the Sugan earl, and told him he v,as his prisoner. The earl expressed surprise, and asked for whom and what cause. "For O'Neale," answered O'Conor, "and I purpose to detain you till his pleasure shall be known, as you have conspired with the English, and promised the president, to deliver nse alive or dead into his hands;" in confirmation of which he drew forth and read out a letter Avhich he pretended to have intercepted, but which was really contrived for the purpose. This letter has been preserved by the president himself in the account which he left of the transaction. Pretended letter from the Lord President to James Fitz-Thomas. " Sir, — Your last letters I have received, and am exceeding glad to see your constant resolution of returne to subjection, and to leave the rebellious courses wherein you have long persevered, you may rest assured that promises shall be kept ; and you shall no sooner bring Dermond O'Conor to me, alive or dead, and banish his bownoghs out of the countrie, but that you shall have your demand satisfied, which I thanke God, I am both able and willing to performe; beleeve me you have no better way to recover your desperate estate, then by this good service, which you have proffered, and therefore I cannot but commend your judgement in choosing the same to redeeme your former faults: and I doe the rather believe the performance of it, by your late action touching Loghquire, wherein your brother and yourselfe have well merited; and as I promised, you shall finde mee so just, as no creature living shall ever know, that either of you did assent to the surrender of it; all yotir letters I have received, as also the joynt letter, from your brother and yourselfe ; I pray loose no time ; for delayes in great actions are subject to many dangers. Now that the Queenes armie is in the field, you may worke your determination with most securitie, being ready to releive you upon a dayes warning: so praying God to assist you in this meritorious enterprize I doe leave you to his protection this twentie nineth of May, 1600." This specious imposture reconciled the minds of the persons present. But to ensure their satisfaction, O'Conor gave three other gentlemen whom he took at the same time to his chief captains to kepp them for their ransoms. The Sugan earl was then, with the other prisoners, mounted on some lean hacks, and conveyed through Coumlogh to castle Lyshin, where O'Conor's wife and family with the English pledges were, from thence he went and took the castle of Ballianinan, JAMES, THE SUGAN EARL OF DESMOND. 457 belonging to Rory Macshlhy, father to two of his prisoners; and having done so, he sent for his wife, family, and the English pledges, leavin'i' at castle Lyshin sixteen trusty persons to guard the earl and his coni- panion^. O'Conor's fear of a rescue caused him to divide his prisoners and pledges thus. He then sent John Power, one of the English pledges, to apprize the president of his success, and to beg of him to draw towards Kilmallock with such force as he could muster, where his wife should meet him to receive the thousand pounds and to deliver the prisoner. The president had about one thousand foot, and two troops of horse, having sent the rest of his army under captain Flower, to the earl of Thomond, on whose lands O'Donell had made a sudden descent. With this force he drew toward Kilmallock, in the hope of receiving there a prisoner of such importance. There however, he was delayed nearly six days, without any account from the lady Margaret, who was detained by the danger of the way, but at last brought an account that castle Lyshin was besieged by the people of Connaug-ht. The president ordered a march to raise the siege, but had not gone a mile when a messenger brought word of the escape of the earl. Dermond O'Conor soon found himself compelled to enter upon terms with his country, Avho ever after held him in distrust. A letter from the rebel chiefs of Munster to O'Donell, inviting him to their assistance in their attempts to rescue the Sug-an earl, was intercepted and brought to the president. He, on his part, having received Dermond's letter, that he was besieged in Ballyaninan, marched that way by Conniloe, and the town of Killingery, to relieve him. But when he arrived within three miles of Ballyaninan, the rebels being unwilling that a person so dangerous as Dermond should be leagued with the English, resolved to treat with him. Dermond, perhaps unaware that relief was so near, and also uncertain as to his reception from the president, consented, and surrendered the castle and himself on terms moi'o favourable than he had reason to expect. The lord president now directed his march to the Glynne castle, belonging to O'Conor Kerry, in the county of Limerick. On his way he took Crome castle, at the entrance of Conniloe ; and on the 30th June, came to Askeaton, where he continued a few days in expectation of supplies. On the 4th of July, he continued his march west from Askeaton, while during the entire day, the enemy to the number of 3000, continued marching in sight. It seemed to the president, that they were all the time on the watch for some occasion of advantage for an attack. There was, however, division in their camp; they were composed of two classes, the provincials and the hired troops, who entertained a mutual jealovisy of each other. The bonnoghs or mer- cenaries from Conuaught began to perceive that they were likely to be disappointed in their sanguine expectations of plunder, and the situa- tion of the earl was such as to make their hire itself precarious. This was made apparent by several letters from some of the leaders, who desired safe conducts from the president to retire with their people. A. letter written at this time, from the Sugau earl, to Florence M'Carthy, explains his position and gives some additional interest to tliese movements. 458 THE FITZGERALDS. Letter from James Fitz-Thomas to Florence 3Iacarthij : — " My very good Lord, " I was driven through the treacherous dealings of Der- mond O'Connor, to let the president and the English armie pass into Glenne, without any resistance; and yet they are but thirteene hundred foote, and one hundred fil'tie horse; Dermond O'Connor did undertake that the Connaght men should not medle with them, nor take our parts, being the only encouragement of the English, to venter this enterprise : but now God be praysed, I am joining my forces with them, and doe pray you to assist mee with your forces, for now is the time to shew ourselves upon the enemy, for they are but very few in num- ber, and destitute of all reliefe, either by sea or land: if your lordship bee not well at ease yourselfe, let your brother Dermond, and the chiefe gentlemen of your foi'ces come without any delay; assuring your lordship, that I will, and am ready, to shew you the like against your need: beseeching- your lordship once againe, not to faile, as you tender the overthrow of our action; even so committing your lordship to the tuition of God Almighty I end. Portrinad the fifth of July 1600. " Your honours most assured friend and cosen, " James Desmond." On the 5th of July the lord president sat down before the castle of Glynn, the army of the Sugan earl and his allies looking on from a hill, in reliance on the great strength of the castle. By engaging the besieged in a parley, the president contrived to plant his two cannon within battering range without any resistance. The attack seems to have been delayed for one day more by difierent parleys and negotia- tions both with the besieged and with the chiefs of the rebel host. Of these latter, the Knight of the Valley sought and obtained a safe conduct to confer with the earl of Thomond; through this lord, he conveyed his demand of an audience from the lord president, who refused to see him, unless on his absolute submission. This condition he rejected, and was commanded to depart; "he saw," writes the jiresident, " the cannon already planted, and his son, then a child, in the president's hands ready to be executed, being by himself formerly put in pledge for his loyaltie." The sight for a moment shook the reso- lution of the knight, and the conference was renewed, though in vain; ambition, resentment, or partizanship, were stronger than the parental tie, and frustrated every attempt to bring him to yield, and in the evening of the same day, he was dismissed. The constable of the castle came to the same earl under a safe conduct, and represented the danger of the attack; as he assured him the earl of Desmond would attack the English and drive them into the Shannon. The earl of Thomond laughed at the threat, and in return advised the surrender of the castle, assuring him that the lives of the gar- rison should be spared; this, however, he would not hear of, and a little after, as he was departing, he received a message from the lord president, " that since he refused the earl of Thomond's favourable JAMES, THE SUGAIT EARL OF DESMOND. 459 offer, lie was in hopes before two days were spent, to Lave his head set upon a stake."* On the following- day, the president orderetlhis battery to be opened, but the cannon on which their dependance was placed, was found to b;3 so clojrGred at the touch-hole, that it could not be freed. The lord- president, by a curious expedient, which he records for the instruction of posterity, contrived to remedy this obstruction. He ordered the gun to be raised on its carriage, as nearly as possible into a vertical position ; then "he willed the gunner to give her a full charge of powder, and roule a shot after it, whereby the touch-hole was presently cleared, to the groat rejoicings of the armie."j' The president then ordered the knight of the valley's child to be placed on one of the gabions, and sent word to the castle, that " they should have a fair mark to bestow their small shot upon." The constable, in terms not sufficiently decorous to be repeated, answered that the knight of the valley might have more sons, and that they should not spare their tire on account of the child. On this the president ordered the child to be removed and the cannon to be discharged against the walls. A fire com- menced on both sides, and before long- a breach was made into a cellar under the great hall of the castle. Into this breach a party, led by captain Flower, entered, and forced their way into the hall, driving- the garrison before them into a neigh- bouring tower Avhich opened from it. Here four of the English ■vi'cre slain by shots from a spike-hole. Captain Flower then led his men up the narrow spiral stairs, which led to two turrets, on the top of the castle ; these they gained with the loss of an inferior officer, and planted the English ensigns upon them. By the time the last-mentioned service was effected, it had grown quite dark, and as it was impossible to make any further progress, captain Slingsby was ordered to maintain the position already won till morning. During the night, there was some firing on both sides within the castle, each party being kept in apprehension of the other. The constable, seeing that he was unlikely to save himself by any other means, thought to escape during- the darkness under cover of a sally. The English guard was too alert; his party was repulsed and himself slain. In the moi'ning, it was found that the Irish had retired into the tower of the castle. The stone stairs, which were the only ascent, were so narrow that one only could mount at a time: this difficult ascent was guarded by a strong wooden door, to which the assailants set fire. By this means the narrow way became so filled with smoke, that a considerable time elapsed before any further step could be taken; when the smoke was cleared away, several English officers, followed by their men, ascended in single file; they met no resistance; the Irish had made their way out on the castle wall. An offer to surrender, on condition of their lives being- spared, met with no answer, and they then resolved to sell them dearly. The English, led by captains Flower and Slingsby, rushed out through the door which led to the battlements, and a rough and desperate but short struggle took place in the gutters, between the battlements and the * Hiber. Pac. t I'^i'J- Pacata. roof of the castle: here many fell on both sides — mercy was unthought of, and the narrow gutters ran with blood; eleven English soldiers were killed and 21 wounded. Of the Irish, fell 80 in all ; some were slain on the battlements; some who hoped to esca2)e by leaping over into the water below, were killed by the English who surrounded the castle.* The earl of Desmond had not resolution to offer any interruption to the taking of this castle, the impoi'tance of which was very con- siderable. It had served the Irish as a secure factory, from whence, by means of a Limerick merchant, all their wants had been supplied. The Sugan earl in the meantime seemed to be content with the show of war. With a force in general nearly triple that of the English, he was content to hang at a safe distance on their march and observe their movements, or seize occasion to show hostility by some small depredations or assaults on straggling parties. The president pursued his operations, very much as if there was no hostile force in the field. The county of Kerry had until recently been untouched by these military operations, and abounded with men and provisions. In the heart of tiiis district lay the strong castle of Lisaghan, an object of the utmost importance, and presenting no small obstacles to any hope of successful attack. The enterprise was however undertaken by Maurice Stack, a gentleman in attendance upon the lord president, and highly reputed for his conduct and valour. He was probably favoured hj the tranquil and isolated position of the place, for he contrived to take the castle by surprise. The loss was felt by the rebel chiefs to be a serious blow, and all means for its recovery were put in motion ; force and fraud were tried in turn and failed. The siege was repelled, and the rebel army compelled to retire with some disgrace from before the walls. A little after, while the brave Stack was away, and the command entrusted to Walter Talbot, Florence M'Carthy, whose conduct seems to have been curiously temporizing, and ordered very much with a view to avoid committing himself, came to Talbot, and endeavoured to cajole him into a surrender. Such efforts were little likely to succeed ; but when i-eported to the lord president, he thought it prudent to visit him, and accordingly took with him 1000 foot, and 75 horse, and in five days came to Klh-ush; when by the aid of the earl of Thomond, he had his troops ferried across the river. In the meantime these movements were not unobserved. A letter was written by the Sugan earl to Florence M'Carthy, which was, we presume, Intercepted by the lord president, on whose authority it Is given. Letter froTU Janes Fitz-Thomas to Florence McCarthy. " COUSEX, "Yesterday I came over the mountaine, and brought with mee the Bonnaghs of Conelloe, the residue and force of the countery I have left to keepe their Crets. I understand since my comming, tliat Sir Charles Wllniott, with six hundred foot, and fiftle horse, are come " Pacata Ibid. JAMES, THE SUGAN EAEL OF DESMOND. 461 to Claumorris, and this night pretend to be at Tralee. I have sent to the knight, and ail the counterj presently to meet mee to-morrow, to resist their determination; and for your better furtherance and acconi- jalishment of our action, I am to entreat your lordship, as you regard your own quiet, and exaltation of tlie service, to make what haste you may, and speedily to yeeld us your helping assistance, for which, will rest thankfuU and most readie to answere your lordship at your need: and thus referring the consideration hereof to your lox'dship, I commit you to God- Primo Augusti, I6OO. " Your lordship's very loving cousen, " James Desmond." Thus was the wave of destruction rolled into this hitherto unmo- lested district. On reaching Carrigofoyle, the president obtained in- formation that the Irish had come to a determination to destroy their castles iu Kerry; ou which he sent Sir Charles Wiimot to prevent them. Sir Charles made a rapid march and cam.e by surprise on several castles — Lixnaw, which had been imdermined by its lord, who afterwards is said to have died of g-rief, for this work of his own folly : Tralee the house of Sir Edward Denny, which 150 soldiers of the Sug-an earl were in the very act of destroying ; while these were yet busy in the completion of this exploit, the noise they made in the vaults which they endeavoured to undermine, prevented them from hearing the approach of Sir Charles and his troop of fifty horse, who killed 32 of them, and seized the arms of a hundred men. We have already mentioned the very peculiar position which Florence M'Carthy was all this time endeavouring to maintain; in which it seems obviously his object was to keep fair with either party, and finally to attach himself to the stronger. The league which was at the time in the course of progress against the English, was such as to raise strong liopes of their entire subversion ; when the concentrated forces of the northern and southern chiefs, strengthened by the men, money, and arms of Spain, should be brought to bear upon them. But the vast superiority of the English force, in point of efficiency in the field, was still such as to cast a strong doubt on the success of any numerical superiority which could be brought against them. The best indication for the Irish, was the caution they had learned; they now evinced a strong- sense that their only safe tactics consisted in vigilant observa- tion for the moment of advantage. Hence it may be observed by the reader, that such was the conduct of Desmond's army; with all his ■numerical superiority, he was contented with such a course that while the utmost activity was maintained on either side, the English appear, by all statements, to have moved in a perfectly unobstructed course to the execution of their objects. Such v/as the state of things at a juncture, which actually constitutes the turning point of the fortunes of the pale. And which may without great rashness be taken as the cause, which suggested so much doubt, and caused such continual wavering among the native chiefs. It was a question, whether they were to em- brace safety or irreversible ruin, and the grounds of decision pre- sented as yet no very decisive aspect, to the subtile yet circumscribed observation of these barbarous leaders. 462 THE FITZGERALDS. Of these, the most curious instance of conduct, rendered perplexed aud vacillating I'roni indecision of character, tog-ether with embarrassment of position, was that of Florence M'Carthy. This chief, sincere to neither party, and keeping- on doubtful terms with both, presents us with that species of g-eneral illustration Avhich is sometimes to be found in an extreme case: steady only in availing- himself of all circumstances, which could for the moment render him important to either party — or gain an object, or divert a suspicion. Still, though an anxiety for his own safety was uppermost in his wavering counsels, he undoubtedly preferred the rebel cause. It was at the period of his ai-rival at Keri-y, that the lord-president, hearing that this chief was near, and having strong reasons to suspect him, sent to desire his presence at Carrigo- foyle. M'Carthy seat excuses joined with oaths of fidelity. Another message was dispatched with a safe-conduct, but all was of no avail. This confirmed the suspicions of Carew, who a little before had re- ceived information, that Florence M'Carthy was engag-ed in the negotiation of a marriage between Desmond and the sister of Cor- mac M'Carthy of IMuskerry. As this alliance was if possible to be prevented, the lord-president resolved to exert himself for the pur- pose. With this in view, he committed the military operations in Cork to Sir Charles Wilmot, and repaired to Kerry to counteract the subtile underplotting of M'Carthy, of whom he was accustomed to say, that he saw him, " like a dark cloud over his head, threatening a storm to hinder and disturb his proceedings."* The apprehended marriage was prevented by a negotiation with M'Carthy of Muskerry, who by dint of threats and promises, was induced to undertake for his sister's appearance on the summons of the lord president or the council. While this point was in course of attainment, many incidents of less moment marked the slow progress of the war in Munster. A detach- ment, commanded by captain Harvey, was passing thi-ough a village belonging to the white knight. One of the houses was unthinkingly set fire to by a few of his men, who mistook their position, and by a very pardonable error thought themselves in an enemy's counti-y. The outrage was instantly arrested in its commencement; but a jjarty of IGO foot and 18 horse was drawn together by John Fitz-Gibbon, the Icnight's younger son. Captain Harvey explained the error of his men, and promised satisfaction. But the inexperienced youth, relying on the numerical superiority of his force, conceived the unlucky notion that the English were in his power, and only saw the tempting occa- sion to perform an exploit of arms: giving no answer to captain Harvey, he ordered a charge upon the English. His pM'ty came rapidly up to the charge, but stopped short when close to the enemv's line, and stood surprised at the tranquil aspect with which their rush was awaited. Seeing that they hesitated, Harvey ordered his men to charge. Fitz-Gibbon's troop gave way at once, and left nearly halt' their number dead or wounded on the field. The white knight, on being informed of this aftair, condemned the rashness of his son ; and the guide, who, on enquiry, was discovered to have set on the English • Pacatii Hib. JAMES, THE SUGAN EAllL OF DESMOXD. 463 soldiers fVom a malicious motive, was, by order of the president, hanged. The president, aware of the enthusiasm of the Kerrymen for the Desmond family, caused a person in the livery of the young earl of Desmond to be shown in several places, and a report sjiread, that the earl himself was soon to make his appearance in the country — an ex- pedient at this time actually entertained, and soon after tried. The Sugan earl had with him five hundi-ed mercenaries, together with such forces as the chiefs of his party could draw together. But the acti- vity of Sir Charles Wilmot, to whom in the interval the main opera- tions, consisting- chiefly of detachments, had been committed, brought over the minds of many, and among these of Fitz-Gerald the knight of Kerry — so that he not only professed his desire to become a British subject; but on Desmond's coming to Dingle, refused to give him entrance to his castle. In return, the Sugan earl destroyed as much as he could, and went on to Castlemagne. Not long after the knight made his submission, and was accepted in form; and the Sugan earl, with Pierce Lacy, entering his country with a view to plunder, he gave them battle, and routed them with a loss of sixteen of their men and two officers of mercenaries. The affairs of the Sugan earl were gradually drawing- to a point. The lord president, unable to carry matters by a decisive action, had contrived to make the most judicious arrangements, securing the country every where as he advanced his line of operation. He carried the war into the disaffected parts, and placed his garrison in the most commanding positions in the countries of his chief opponents. Above all, he had at an early period of the year occupied Askeaton and Kil- mallock with strong garrisons, which were productive of more decisive advantages as the rebellion approached nearer to its crisis. The garrison of Kerry at the present period, (the beginning of September, 1600,) distressed the Sugan earl so much, that he found it difficult to maintain his force. In this juncture he wrote the following- letter to Florence M'Carthy: — "My Lokd, " Youi' letter I have received, and the present time of service is now at hand, which by letters, nor any excuse so ineffectual ought to be delayed; and whereas you write, that you intend to confer with the president and the earl of Thomond, I marvel that one of your lord- ship's acquaintance with their proceedings, doeth not yet know their en- ticing bayts and humours to enti'ap us all within the nets of their policies; your vow to God and this action for the maintenance of the church and defence of our own right, should not for any respect be unregarded: you know that of long time youi* lordshijD hath been suitor to the queen and council, and could not at any time prevail nor get anylikliehood of your settlement. And now, being duly placed by the assent of the church, and us the nobilitie of this action, your lordshij:) should work all means possible for to maintain the same. You know the ancient and general malice that heretofore they bare to all Irish birth, and much more they rave at the present, so as it is very bootless for any of us all to seek their favours or countenance, which were but a mean to work our total subversion. Write nie effectually your lordship's mind, and what resolution you purpose to follow, whereby I may proceed accord- ingly. This armie is but very slender, for they are but sixe hundred foot, and eightie horse. Wee exjiect your lordship's assistance, which we heartily desire, and not any further to deferre us with letters, as you respect us and the service: and, whereas you write, you have no force, your own presence, and the fruite of your comming, will much further the service, and dismay the enemy, &c 2d September, 1600. " Your loving Cousen, " James Desmond." But the situation of the Sugan earl was too replete with danger to admit of open assistance from one so cautious as M'Carthy who satis- fied his affection to the cause, with temporizing messages, and per- haps vague intentions. The earl, closely pressed by Wilmot, was driven out of Kerry. His allies and associates began to perceive the ruin which was coming so fast upon his cause; yet reluctant to desert him, strongly urged his flight from the south, promising to support him when he should return with an army sufficient to make resistance practicable. So strongly, Indeed, Avas the necessity of submission be- ginning to be felt, and so fiercely at the same time did the fire of re- bellion burn under its embers, that the chiefs sent an ambassador to Rome to purchase absolution for their feigned submission to the queen,* and a dispensation for their fm-ther continuance in a course so inconsistent with their profession of faith.f The Sugan earl, having left Kerry, was on his way to the fortress of Arlogh, when the report of his approach reached Kilmallock; se- veral companies stationed in this place hastened out to meet him: and unfortunately for the earl, his troops were seen and intercepted before they were able to gain the covert of a wood, near which they were marching. They were instantly charged by captain Graeme's company, who obtained possession of their baggage, and killed all those who guarded it. A spirited rally was made by the Irish for the recovery of their baggage; but a few more charges threw them into confusion. Flight and slaughter began to fill the plain : 1 20 of the earl's men were killed, and 80 wounded. Among other things, three hundred horses laden with baggag-e, with a large prey of cattle, were secured by the Eng-lish party. In this battle captain Graeme had sixteen of his men slain, and a few horses wounded. From this moment the fortunes of the Sugan earl became hopeless. His friends departed to their homes — his followers deserted — and he could no longer collect a hundred men. W^ith his brother John, the knight of the Glyn, and two other gentlemen, he left the county of Cork, and made the best of his way into Tipperary and Ormonde : from whence his companions retired from a field of enterprise which now presented no hope of retrieve, and took refuge in Ulster ; where under the earl of Tyrone's command, the cause of insurrection still held its precarious existence. The rebellion in Ireland had not in fact, at any time, assumed its most formidable aspect in the south ; it was rather a perplexed tissue of intrigues, murdei-s, and tumults, than * Piic. Hibcr. f Camden. JAMES, THE SUGAN EAEL OF DESMOND. 465 ji contest of military operations. Sir George Carew has been con- tlemnecl by some of our historians, for the means ■which he sometimes adopted to obtain his ends; were it worth while, and could we allow ourselves space, it would be easy to show that he had no better means than to avail himself of the character of the allies and the enemies with whom he had to deal: their moral code was not of the strictest, and their laws of war inckided every crime within the broad latitude of human nature. 7'he ag'e itself was but doubtfully advanced in civi- lization: the contest was carried on with an enemy which had little idea of war without murder, robbery, breach of faith, and treachery ; then there was no strict rule, either express or understood, to debar Sir George Carew from taking the occasional advantages afforded by the tactics of an enemy who, it must be recollected, stood upon the low ground of treason and rebellion in the estimate of the English g-overn- ment. Amongst those shocking and revolting incidents to which this monstrous state of things gave occasion, we could enumerate many. It was at the time at which we are now arrived, that Honor O Brien, sister to the earl of Thomond, and wife to lord Kerry, invited a per- son of the name of Stack to dine with her, and caused him to be mur- dered; his brother, who was a prisoner in the castle, was next day hanged by order of lord Kerry. Such was the summary justice of Irish chiefs in that age: it was evidently the maxim that every one had the right, now only recognised in fields of battle, to kill his enemy as he might; and every one whose death became in any way desirable, was an enemy. The unfortunate earl of Desmond found little prospect of relief or aid in Ormonde; he had perhaps come thither for the purpose of escaping- the attention of Carew, and with a design to return when he safely might. In October, the president obtained intelligence that he had stolen back and was lurking with a few followers about the woods of Arlogh. In the month of October, in the same year, the queen put into exe- cution her plan for drawing away the affections of the county of Kerry from the Svigan earl by sending over the son of the I6th earl, attainted 1582. This youth had in his infancy been detained in England, where he had been born, and kept prisoner in the Tower. He was now sent over with the title of the earl of Desmond, to the care of the lord president. For his maintenance, a captain and his company were to be dismissed, and their pay allotted to this purpose. The patent for his title Avas to be retained by the lord-president, until he might be enabled to judge of the success of the plan. From the reception of the young lord by the people this was soon decided. To bring this matter to the test, the president gave the young lord permission to travel into Limerick, under the care of the archbishop of Cashel and Master Boyle, clerk of the council, (afterwards first oarl of Cork.) On a Saturday evening the party entered Kilmallock. The report of their coming had reached this town before them; and the effect was such as might seem to warrant the most san- guine expectations. The streets were thronged to the utmost with the people from the surrounding country — every window was full of earnest and eager faces — the roofs were alive with a shouting and I. 2 a Ir. 4nn THE FITZGERALDS. cheering' rabble — and every " projecting' buttress and coig'ne of van- tage" bore Its share of acclamation and loyalty to the heir of the old earl. He was invited to dine at Sir George Thornton's, and so dense was the crowd, that it was half-an-hour before a lane of soldiers could enable him to reach his mansion. After supper the same press retarded his return to his own lodg'ing. All this enthusiasm was easily dispelled. If the young' lord had drawn favourable hopes, or high notions of the loyalty of the Limerick people to the house of his fathers, a few hours more were to enlighten him on this head. The next day was Sunday, and he was, as was his wont, proceeding to church, when he was surrounded by a multitude, whose language he did not understand, but who, by their tones and gestures, were evidently endeavouring to dissuade him from entering* the church. The young earl went on and entered. On coming out after service he was met with abuse and execration: and from that moment no one came near him. It was also quickly ascertained, that the numer- ous persons who had possession of the Desmond estates under the crown, looked with natural apprehension on the chance so detrimental to their interests, of the restoration which would transfer them from the lax management of the English plantations, to the gripe of the exacting and despotic earl of Desmond. This unfortunate youth, the rightful heritor of the house of Des- mond, having been thus painfully held for a few days in a position of high and flattering expectation, was restored to an obscurity rendered doubly painful by disappointment. If his long state of depression had not eradicated in his breast all the spirit of his race, his misfortune, to which education and the habits of life must have reconciled him, was aggravated; and the penalty of his father's crimes, revived to be inflicted afresh on him. What had been a privation hardly felt, was thus become an insult and a wrong. And such we should infer from his brief remaining history was the manner in which this reckless act of despotism aff"ected its unhappy object. Having been found of no use in Ireland; and after having exerted himself to the utmost to meet the wishes of the queen, he was brought back to England, where he died in a few months, and with him the honours of the house of Des- mond. The Sugan earl was become a fugitive, and with two or three per- sons led a life of fear and hardship, skulking from forest to forest, and from desert to desert among the savage glens and defiles of Ar- logh, in Drumfinnin, and in the county of Tipperary. In the latter place his maternal relations were ready to attend to his wants, but personal safety was become a principal object, and no place could long be safe for a fugitive, from the vigilance and activity of lord presi- dent Carew. Of his allies some had been more successful; Lacy had got together a small body of men and awaited the return of John of Desmond, who went to Ulster to apply to the earl of Tyrone for aid. Tyrone had, however, to mind his own defence, which, ag'ainst the skilful and efficient conduct of the able and spirited Mountjoy, more than tasked his whole means and force. In the month of November, most of the few remaining castles which were held against the queen were taken. The strong castle of Conni- log'h was surprised — Castlemagne was surrendered from regard to the young earl of Desmond — Listowel was taken after a short but desperate siege. Of this latter the incidents have too much interest to be omit- ted here. The castle of Listowel belonged to Fitz-Maurlce, lord of Lixnaw, who was one of the most invetei-ate opponents of the president's government. Being the only one of his castles which had not been taken, Sir C. Wilmot was determined to seize it. On the fifth of November he besieged it, and ordered the wall to be undermined. After nearly a week's hard work, liis men had opened a deep mine under the foundation ; but they had hardly finished the chamber in Avhich the powder was to be lodged, when a spring gushed out upon the cavity and entirely frustrated the attempt. The labour was there- fore renewed on another part of the foundation ; and the miners were successful in reaching far under the middle of the cellar. An appli- cation was at this period made by the garrison for leave to depart from the castle; but as they had first done all the mischief in their power — nine of the besiegers having fallen, and had now no longer a choice — Sir Charles did not think it fit or expedient to grant such terms. They were therefore compelled to surrender at discretion; and the women and children were suffered to depart. Among the latter was the eldest son of the lord of Lixnaw : the people of the castle, aware, that if recognised, its seizure must ensue, disguised it by changing its attire, and having smeared it with mud, placed it over the back of an old woman who bore it away without being questioned. It was not long- before Sir Charles became aware of the circumstance; and a pursuit was immediately commanded. All was vain, until he thought of ques- tioning a priest, who had been taken among the prisoners. The follow- ing is the account given by Sir G. Carew himself of the conversation between Sir C. Wilmot and MacBrodie the priest: — MacBrodie ad- mitted " that he could best resolve him, for that he himselfe had given direction to the woman where shee should bestow the child till shee might deliver him to his father. ' Why then,' saith Sir Charles, ' will you not conduct me to him ? Know you not that it is in my power to hang you or to save you? Yes; and 1 assure you if you will not guide me to the place where he lieth hidden, I will cause you to be instantly hanged.' The priest answered, That it was all one to him whether he died this day or to-morrow; but yet, if he might have his word, for the sparing of his owne life and the childes, hee might reveale his knowledge; otherwayes the governor might do his pleasure. Sir Charles, though very unwilling to grant the priest his life, yet the earnest desire hee had to gett the child into his hands, caused him to agree thereto. The priest, being put into a hand-locke, is sent with a captaine and a good guard of souldiers about this businesse, who guided them to a wood, sixe miles from the castle, by reason of thicke bryers and thorns, almost unpassable, in the middest whereof there is a hollow cave within the ground, not much unlike by description, to Cacus his denne, or the mouth of Avernus, in which desolate place they found that old woman and this young childe, whom they brought to the governor, and the priest and childe were shortly after sent to the president."* • Pacata Ilib. 468 THE FITZGERALDS. While the lord -president was at Clonniel, whither he had gone to confer with the earl of Ormonde, he received information that the fugi- tive lords were lurldng in the vicinity, where they had already com- mitted many extensive depredations. He therefore undertook a strict search. While he was thus engaged, a youth was brought before him, who had been in the Sugan earl's service ; and, on being ques- tioned, undertook to conduct a party to where his master lay. For some time there had been a close pursuit, of which we regret not being able to present the reader with any authorized details, but which can easily be followed up by his imagination, into the variety of romantic escapes and emergencies, of which every day must have had its share. The deep and rug'ged glens and mountain hollows, the marshy vales, and the broad wildernesses of dark forest and tangled thicket, were now all explored by human fear and misfortune, and traced through their recesses and leafy mazes, by the stern activity of military pursuit. Enmity guided by treachery, dogged the fallen earl from den to den, and from hut to hut, nor could he in this forlorn condition reckon on the fidelity of any one of those whose aid, guid- ance, or hospitality, his utter necessity required. The actual proof that this description is something more than imaginary, may be found in the brief statement of Sir George Carew, who mentions that they frequently reached the place of his concealment just a little after he had escaped from it. The earl of Thomond, Sir G. Thornton, and other officers, were now sent with their companies, along with this guide, who conducted them to the woods of Drumfinnan ; but as they approached the border of the woods a cry was raised, and a tumult ran through the forest depth, as from persons in flight, while the soldiers, dashing aside the thick boughs, rushed in to give chase. The Sugan earl made his escape ; he ran without waiting- to put on his shoes. His companion, (a Romish priest,) was overtaken by the soldiers ; but his " simple mantle," and " torn trowsers" deceiv- ed them — seeing but a poor old man, unable to bear a weapon, they left him unmolested. Thus were the Sugan earl and his companions reduced to the condition of hunted beasts, in daily alarm for their lives, without the commonest necessaries, and compelled mostly to conceal themselves in places selected for their very discomfort. The province was, however, reduced to order and peaceful subjection. No castle was in the hands of an enemy to the queen's government. No hostile army levied contributions, seized or plundered, or kept the coun- try in terror; but every one was enabled securely to leave his cattle m the fields. And the lord-president, having dismissed five hundred men, was enabled to offer to send a thousand to serve in Leinster. On the 13th of January, I6OI, the lord -president was enabled to give intelligence to the English council of the approaching invasion of the Spaniards. His information was avouched by a variety of docu- ments, which left little doubt on the subject, and confirmed strongly, by the appearance in the country of numerous foreign ecclesiastics, tlio accuracy of this intelligence. Enougli has been already seen in our notice of O'Donell, and has also been more fully confirmed by the his- tory of the earl of Tyrone's rebellion, which may be said to have com- prised as the acts of a drama, all these lesser parts. JAMES, THE SUGAlSr EAEL OF DESMOND. 469 The IMuiibter rebels were also ascertained to be cliiefly maintained by the earl of Tyrone, and even the precise allowances in money or military stores were communicated to the lord-president, who amongst other statements mentions the following- sums: to the lord of Lixnaw, L.14; to the Sugan earl, L.IO; to Pierce Lade, L.8; to M'Donough, L.12; to Redmonde Burke, L.500; to Teague O'Rouke, L.500. By which it may seem that these two last alone were in such a condition as to give the earl any hope of service from them. The Sugan earl was, at the close of the year, reduced to such ex- tremities, that it was little likely he could continue much longer to find refuge In the protection or connivance of those who perpetually saw fresh reason to be cavitious in their movements. One day the lord-president had notice that he was at the time remaining with Dermond O'Dog'an, a harper, by whom he was frequently received. A party of soldiers entered the wood where O'Dogan lived, but on reaching the house, discovered that the inmates had been on the point of sitting down to supper, but had on their approach taken flipht into the woods; a mantle which they recognized, apprized them that Des- mond was surely of the party. They Instantly went in pursuit, but had not gone far when O'Dogan, and two others, having- concealed the Sugan earl among the thickets, showed themselves In a distant open of the trees, until they attracted the soldiers' notice, and then took to flight, " with the Lapwings police."* They were readily pur- sued by the soldiers, who began to approach them after a long chase, as they reached the white knight's country, where a crowd of people rose In arms to their rescue. For this the pursuers were quite unpre- jiared, and were compelled to leave them. On this pretence the lord Barry was loud In complaint against the white knight, against whom he entertained a violent enmity, and In consequence the knight was called before the president, who spoke to him so strongly, and with such decided effect, that the knight promised to exert himself for the capture of Desmond, engaging- that In a few days he would give a good account of him, alive or dead, if he should be found In his country. The white knight returning home, collected a few of his most faith- ful friends and followers, and informed them of his pledge. One of these asked If he would really seize the Sugan earl If he could find him. The knig-ht assured him It was his sincere design, and the man undertook to guide him. On the 20th day of May, 1601, this party took horse and rode to the mountain of Slleve Gort. Here, in a deep cavern, among the mountain cliffs, the Sugan earl lurked with his little party. At the entrance of the cavern, the white knight. In a loud voice called on Desmond to come forth and surrender himself. But the earl, not believing that the knight's companions would seize him, and supposing that on sight of him they would rather take his part, came stoutly forth to the mouth of the cavern: as he was seen emerging from the darkness of the interior, he assumed a commanding manner, and called out to the party to seize on the white knight and secure him. As the knight and all his party were the subjects of * Pacata Hib. 470 THE FITZGERALDS. Desmond, this expedient was not without some hope of success; it was indeed his last chance of escape, and it entirely failed. Without con- descending to make even a reply, the party at once surrounded their pretended lord, and in despite of his peremptory voice and looks they disarmed and bound himself and his foster-brother, and brought them away to the white knight's castle of Kilvenny, from whence a messenger was dispatched to the lord-president. On receiving this message a party from Kilmallock was sent to escort the prisoner. He was secured in Shandon castle, until he should be sent to England, and his custody was committed to captain Slingsby. The captain, considering that there was no hope for the prisoner, and that therefore nothing of a consolatory kind could be said, felt disposed to avoid all conversa- tion with him, but Desmond, who was not inclined to be silent, or to let pass any occasion of making an impression which might be afterwards useful, of himself accosted the captain, and spent the niglit in extenuations to which it is probable little heed was seriously given. He represented that he had been an unwilling instrument of rebellion, and throughout urged on by the influence of others ; that had he withstood the motives for taking the title of Desmond, it would have been taken by his brother John. He also pleaded his having ever avoided the shedding of English blood. He asserted his own prior title to the earldom, of which his father had been unfairly disinherited by the influence of his stepmother. With these and such topics he entertained captain Slingsby during the night. On the next morning an order came that he should be conveyed to Cork, where he was to be tried. At Cork his trial took place: he was indicted, arraigned, convicted, and condemned to be executed as a traitor. But the lord president wrote to advise that he should be confined to the Tower of London, as while he lived his brother could lay no claim to the earldom. WTiile a prisoner in Cork, the Sugan earl wrote the following re- presentation to the president, which was forwarded with a letter from the lord-president, both of which may interest the reader : — " The relation of James of Desmond, to the Right Honourable Sir George Carew, lo7'(l president of Mounster, most humbly beseech- ing your honour to certife her majesty, and the lords of her most hon- ourable councell of the same: hoping in the Almighty, that her highness of her accustomed clcmencie and mercy, by your intercession will take most gratious and mercifull consideration thereof to the end tJiat her majesties realme of Ireland shall he better planted and maintained in good government by his release. The third of June 1601. " First, it may please your honour, to consider that this action at the beginning was never pretended, intended, nor drawen by mee, nor my consent; but by my brother John, and Pierce Lacy, having the oaths and promises of divers noblemen, and gentlemen of this province, to maintaine the same, and not even consented unto by me, untill Sir Thomas Norris left Kilmallock, and the Irish forces camped at Rekeloe in Connologh, where they staid five or sixe dayes ; the most of the country combining and adjoyning with them, and undertooke to hold with my brother John, if I had not come to them. The next sessions (before these proceedings,) at Corke. Sir Thomas Norris arrested me (in person), therefore my brother, he being then suspected by him, and intending to keep me in perpetuall prison for him, untill I made my escape ; by this the intent of Sir Thomas Norris being knowen, the feare and terrification thereof drew me into this action, and had 1 been assured of my liberty, and not clapt into prison for my brother's offence, I had never entered into this action ; further, I was bordered with most English neighbours, of the gentlemen of this pro- vince ; I defie any English that can charge me with hindring of them, either in body or goods; but as many as ever came in my presence, I conveyed them away from time to time. " Also it is to be expected, tbat the Spanish forces are to come into Ireland this summer, and O'Neale will send up the strongest army of northern men into Mounster, with my brother John, the lord of Lix- naw, and Pierce Lacy, and when they are footed in Mounstei', the most part of the countrey Avill joyne with them : preventing this and many other circumstances of service, the saving of my life is more beneficiall for her majestic then my death: for it may please her majestie to be gratious unto me, I will reclaime my brother, the lord of Lixnaw, and Pierce Lacy, if it please her majestie to bee gratious unto them, or else so diligently worke againste them with her majes- ties forces, and your directions, that they shall not be able to make head, or stirre in Mounster at all; for by the saving of my life, her highnesse will winne the hearts in generall of all her subjects, and people in Ireland, my owne service, and continuance of my alliance in dutifull sort, all the dayes of their lives. " Farther, I most humbly beseech your honour to forsee, that there are three others of my sept and race alive. The one is in England, my uncle Garrets sonne, James, set at liberty by her majestie, and in hope to obtaine her majesties favour, my brother in Ulster, and my cosen Maurice Fitz-John in Spaine, wherewith it may be expected, that ekher of these (if I were gone) by her majesties favour might be brought in credit, and restored to the house, it may therefore please her majestie to bee gratious unto me, assuring to God and the world, that I will bee true and faithful to her majestie during life, by which meanes her majesties government may bee the better setled, myselfe and all others my alliance, for ever bound to pray for her majesties life long to continue," But afterward being examined by the president, and the provincial council, he added some other reasons for his taking of arms against her majesty, which in its due place shall be mentioned. In the dis- patch which the president made into England upon his apprehension, he wrote a letter to her majesty as foUoweth: — Tlie Lord Presidents letter to Her 3Iajest>j. " Sacred and Dread Sovereign, " To my unspeakable joy, I have received your majesties letters signed with your royall hand, and blessed with an extraordinarie addition to the same, which although it cannot increase my faith and zeale in your majesties service, which from my cradle (I thanke God) for it was ingrafted in my heart, yet it infinitely multiplies my comforts in the same, and wherein my endeavours and poore merites shall appeare to bee short of sucli inestimable lavours, my never dying- prayers for your majesties eternall prosperitie shall never faile to" the last day of life, but when I compare the felicities which other men *^°joy' '^'^ith my unfortunate destinie, to be deprived from the sight of your royall person, which my heart with all loyall affection (inferior to none) evermore attends, I live like one lost to himselfe, and wither out my dayes in torment of minde, untill it shall please your sacred majestic to redeeme mee from this exile, which unlesse it bee for my sinnes, (upon the knees of my heart) I doe humbly beseech your majestie to commiserate, and to shorten the same, as speedily as may bee since my time of banishment in this rebellious kingdome (for better than a banishment I cannot esteeme my fortune, tliat deprives me from beholding your majesties person) although I have not done as much as I desire in the charge I undergoe, yet to make it appeare that I have not been idle, (I thanke God for it) I have now by the means of the white loiight, gotten into my hands the bodie of James Fits- 'I'homas, that arch traytour, and usurping earle, whom for a present with the best conveniencie and safetie which I may finde, I will by some trustie gentleman send unto your majestie, whereby I hope this province is made sure from any present defection. And now that my laske is ended, I doe in all humilitie beseech, that in your princely commiseration my exile may end, protesting the same to bee a greater affliction to me than I can well endure ; for as my faith is undivided, and onely professed (as by divine and human lawes the same is bound) in vassalage to your majestie; so doth my heart covet nothing so much, as to bee evermore attendant on your sacred person, accounting it a happinesse unto mee to dye at your feet ; not doubting but that your majestie out of your princely and royall bountie, will enable me by some means or other to sustaine the rest of my dayes in your service, and that my fortune shall not be the worse, in that I am not any im- portunate craver, or yet in not using other arguments to move your majestie there unto, then this, assai dimandi qui ben serve e face. So humbly beseeching your majesties pardon in troubling you with these lines, unworthy your divine eyes, doe kisse the shadows of your royall feet. From your majesties citie of Coi-ke, this third of June, 1601.* From this letter Sir G. Carew goes on to remark, " He was within one year before his apprehension, the most potent and mightle Ger- aldlne that had been of any of the carles of Desmond, his predecessoi's. For it is certainly reported that he had eight thousand men well arm- ed under his command at one time, all which he employed against his lawful soveralgne; and secondly, a notorious ti'aytour, because hee sought to bring a most infamous slander upon a most vertuous and renowned prince, (his queen and mistress) Avith his false suggestions into forralne princes ; and notwithstanding that her name was eternised with the shrill sounding trumpet of fame, for the meekest and mildest prince that ever raigned, yet was not hee ashamed, (so farre had the rancour of malice corrupted his veuemous heart) to inculcate into the ears of the Pope and Spanish king, that she was more tyrannical than Pharooli, and more blood-thirstie than Nero. But because I may be * Pacatn Hib. vol. i. p. 251. tliDugiit to fain these allegatious, to ag-gravate his treason, I will, there- fore (for satisfaction of the reader), set downe the very wordes of two of his letters bearing one date, which he sent to the king of Spaine. A letter from James Fitz-Thomas to the king of Spain. "Most mighty monarch, I humbly salute your imperiall majesty, giving your highness to understand of our great misery, and violent order, wherewith wee are of long time opprest by the English nation. Their g'overnment is such as Pharoah himself never used the like ; for they content not themselves with all temporall superiority, but by cruelty desire our blood, and perpetuall destruction to blot out the whole re- membrance of our posterity; as also our old Catholike religion, and to sweare that the queene of England is supreame of the church. I re- ferre the consideration hereof to your majestie's high judgment, for that Nero in his time was farre inferior to that queen in cruelty. Wherefore, and for the respects thereof, high, mighty potentate, my- selfe, with my followers and retainers, and being also requested by the bishops, prelates, and religious men of my country, have drawn my sword, and proclaimed warres against them, for the recovery first of Christ's Catholike religion, and next for the maintenance of my own right, which of long- time hath been wrongfully detained from mee and my father, who, by right succession, was lawful heire to the earle- dome of Desmond ; for he was eldest Sonne to James, my grand- father, who was earle of Desmond ; and for that, uncle Gerald (being the younger brother) tooke part with the wicked proceedings of the queene of England, to further the unlawfuU claime of supremacie, usurped the name of earle of Desmond, in my father's true title ; yet notwithstanding-, hee had not long enjoyed his name of earle, when the wicked English annoyed him, and prosecuted wars, that hee with the most part of those that held of side, Avas slaine, and his country thereby planted with Englishmen : and now by the just judgment and providence of God, I have utterly rooted those malepert bowes out of the orchard of my country, and have profited so much in my proceed- ings, that my dastardly enemies dare not show their faces in any part of my countrey, but having taken my towns and cities for their refuge and strength, where they doe remaine, (as yet were prisoners) for Avant of means to assaile them, as cannon and poAvder, Avhich my countrey doth not yeeld. Having these Avants, most noble potentate, I have presumed, Avith all humility, to address these my letters to your high majestic, craving the same of your gratious clemencle and goodnesse, to assist mee in this godly enterprise, with some help of such neces- saries for the Avarres, as your majestie shall think requisite; and after the quiet of my countrey, satisfaction shall be truly n)ade for the same, and myselfe in person, Avith all my forces, shall be ready to serve your highnesse, in any countrey your majesty may command me. "And if your majestie Avill vouchsafe to send me a competent number of souldiers, I Avill place them in some of toAvnes and cities, to remaine in your gratious disposition, till such time as my ability shall make good, what your majestie shall lend me in money and munition; and also your majestie's high commission, under the broad seal for leading and conducting of these souldiers, according to the prescript order 474 THE FITZGERALDS. and articles of marshall discipline, as your majestic shall appoint in<', and as the service of the land shall require. I praise the Almighty God, 1 have done by his goodnesse, more than all my predecessors ; for I have reclaimed all the nobility of this part, under the dutifull obedience of Christ's church, and mine own authority, and accordingly have taken pledges and corporall oathes, never to swarve from the same; and would have sent them to your majestic, by this bearer, but that the ship was not of suflficiency and strength to carry so noble personages, and will send them whensoever your highnesses please. So there resteth nothing to quiet this part of the world, but your majestie's assistance, which I daily expect. Thus, most mighty mon- arch, I humbly take my leave, and doe kisse your royall hands, be- seeching the Almighty of your majesties health and happinesse. From my campe, the fourteenth day of March, 1599. " \ our majesties most humble at all command, " James Desmokd." Another letter from James Fitz-TJiomas to the king of Spain. " Your majestie shall vmderstand that the bearer hereof. Captain Andrew Roche, bath been always in the service of the queene of Eng- land, and bath performed her manifold services at sea; whereby he had great preferment and credit, and being of late time conversant with Catholikes, and teachers of divine instructions, that were sory for his lewd life, made known unto him the danger wherein bis soul was, so that, by their godly persuasions, he was at that time reclaimed, and subverted to bee a good Catholike, and to spend the residue of his life in the defence and service of the church; since which time of re- concilement, bee was to repaire to your majestie with his ship and goods, as is well knowen to your highness' councell, who confiscated that ship to your majestie's use; himself being at that time struken with extreame sicknesse, that he was not able to proceed in the voyage ; and when his company returned Into Ireland, they reported that the Santado wished rather his person than his ship, which made him feare- fuU ever since to repaire thither, till bee should deserve bis freedome by some worthy service to your majestie. " The heire apparent to the crowne of England bad been carried by him to your highness, but that he was bewrayed by some of his ow-ne men, and thereby was intercepted, and himself taken prisoner, where he remained of long, till by the providence of God, and the help of good friends, bee was conveyed into Ireland to me in a small boat ; and leaving these occasions to your imperial majestie, and being as- sured of his trust, faith, and confidence towards mee, have committed this charge into his hands ; the rather for that I understand your royall fleete is directed for England this yeare, to the end he may be a leader and conductor to them in the coast of England and Ireland, being very expert in the knowledge thereof, and in the whole art of navigation. And thus, with all humility, I commit your highnesse to the Almighty. From my campe, the fourteenth of March, 1599-* " Your majesties most humble at all command, " James Desmokd." * P.icata Hib. p. 252. ^Vhile he remained a prisoner in Sliandon castle, the president caused him to be frequently brought before him, and examined hinx minutely to ascertain the true causes of the Munster rebellion; he thus obtained some statements which were confirmed by circumstance'=, all of which are specially mentioned by the president of Munster as exhibiting in a clear light how trifling were the pretexts of this ra- bellion. Many of these reasons will not appear now so trifling, but we shall, however, reserve them for an occasion further on, when we shall be enabled to give them a more full and satisfactory discussion. We shall here be content to state, that religion was the main and principal pretext — while the remainder were grievances which, though affording far more justifiable ground for discontent, were put forward as matters of less comparative moment. Among these revelations of the Sugan earl, the most immediately important were those which gave the fullest and clearest light upon the intercourse of the Irish insurgents with the king of Spain, and left little doubt that a Spanish expedition into Ireland was in prepara- tion, and ere long to be looked for. And next the circumstantial crimination of Florence MacCarthy, as having taken a very leading- part in this design. It was on this information, that the lord-president ordered the arrest of MacCarthy, which was the easier to effect, as the double part which he had throughout acted prevented his taking much precaution. When he was arrested, his house was searched, and various letters were found, amply serving to confirm all the charges of the Sugan earl. On the 14th of August, 1601, both the Sugan earl and MacCarthy were conveyed to London, and committed to the Tower. There the Sugan earl continued for the remainder of his life, and died in 1608. He was interred in the Tower chapel. THE BUTLERS OF ORMONDE. JOHN, SIXTH EAEL OF ORMONDE. DIED A. D. 1478. This earl was attainted for his faithful adherence to the Lancas- trian monarch. Edward IV., however, restored him in blood. He is memorable as the most finished gentleman of his day. Edward IV., himself eminent for manners and accomplishments beyond the rudeness of his age, said of him, " that he was the goodliest knight he ever beheld, and the finest gentleman in Christendom ; and that if good- breeding, good-nature, and liberal qualities were lost in the world, they might all be found in John, earl of Ormond." He was master of most living languages of Europe, and had been employed by Edward IV. as his ambassador to every court. He did not marry. He made a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, where he died, 1478. 47G THE BUTLERS OF OEMONDE. PIERCE, EIGHTH EAEL OF ORMONDE. DIED A. D. 1539. We have already stated how this nobleman and his lady, a sister of the ninth earl of Kildare, were reduced to a condition of the most de- plorable privation, and compelled to conceal themselves in some lowly dwelling among the woods, till, driven by the complaints of his wife, and his sense of wrong, he surprised and slew the usurper, and thus regained his estates and honom^s. His family had, by the result of a series of political events, most of which have been noticed under their proper heads, been depressed in power and party importance in Ireland. This disadvantage was to some extent counterbalanced by court favom", and that social im- portance which results from polished manners and liberal accom.plish- ments; in which respect, the members of this illustrious race appear constantly in advance of their times, and seem to have transmitted through many descents, a vein of more refined humanity than the historian may otherwise trace in the 15th and l6th centuries. The earls of Ormonde were in these ages more frequently to be found high in the councils and favour of the English monarchs, while the two great branches of the Geraldines, present, on the other hand, a uniform affinity for the Irish habits, and a strong tendency to factious move- ments. Their position and vast possessions in part account for these tendencies; but on a lengthened comparison carried through many generations, the singular uniformity becomes observable ; the immense pride — the reckless activity — the love of popularity — the insubordinate temper, breaking out with nearly similar results in each successive generation, and ripening into the same successes and disasters, appear to assume the character of family features. When lord Surrey was sent over as lieutenant, the earl of Ormonde was active, efficient, and distinguished in promoting the success of his various expeditions against the O'Tooles, O'Carrol, and other native chiefs. His character is set in a strong point of view by the friend- ship of Siu-rey, who appears to have relied on his counsel in all impor- tant matters, and to have set high value on his conversation. This is 7nade evident by his many letters to the king, and to Wolsey, in which he freely praises his conduct, and shows anxiety for his interests. In a letter to Wolsey in 1520, he writes, "beseeching your grace to cause thanliful letters to be sent from the king's grace to the eaid of Or- monde, as well for his diligence showed unto me at all times, as also for that he showeth himself ever, with his good advice and strength, to bring the king's intended purpose to good effect. Undoubtedly he is not only a wise man, and hath a true English heart, but he is the man of most experience in the feats in war of this country, of whom I have at all times the best counsel of any in this land. I would the earl of Desmond were of like wisdom and order." It is stated on strong authority, that although bearing the title of Ormonde, he was not fully recognised as such until 152S, although in the patent by which he was appointed lord deputy of Ireland, dated 6th March, 1522, he was de- nominated " Petrus Butteler comes Ormonde," without qualification. He was, during' tlie time of Surrey's administration, involved in a party war with the earl of Desmond, and great eftbrts were made by government for their reconciliation. The most remarkable incident to be noticed in the life of this earl, is perhaps the treaty which was for some time in agitation for the marriage of his son with Anna Boleyn, the daughter of Sir Thomas Boleyn, and afterwards the unfortunate queen of Henry VHL, and mother of queen Elizabeth. Happy had it been for the lady, at least, had this treaty been carried into effect. The subject appears to have occupied considerable attention; it is thus mentioned in a communica- tion to Wolsey, from Surrey and his council : " And where, at our being with your grace, divers of us moved you tQ cause a marriage to be solemnized between the earl of Ormonde's son, being with your grace and Sir Thomas Boleyn's daughter. We think, if your grace caused that to be done, and a final end to be made between them, for the title of lands depending in variance, it should cause the said earl be better willed to see this land brought to good order."* The vari- ance here alluded to, was one of long' standing, and arose from the cir- cumstance of Thomas, seventh earl of Ormonde, having had two daughters, and no male issue ; in consequence of this, his large English estates, £30,000 a-year, according to the present value of lands, went to his two daughters, while his Irish estates went with his title to the male heir. The parties were not. however, themselves, satisfied about their rights; one of the co-heirs married Sir William Bolepi, wlio seems to have thought himself entitled to the Irish properties and hon- ours. The marriage was approved by the eaid ; but did not, as tha reader is aware, take place. The dispute was shortly after settled by a compromise. Sir Thomas BoleyTi was created earl of Ormonde, and eaz'l Pierce received the title of Ossory. About ten years after, on the death of Sir Thomas without issue, the title of Ormonde was re- stored to the earl of Ossory. When Surrey, after remaining two years in the Irish government, was recalled, the earl of Ossory was, by his recommendation, appointed lord deputy. His conduct was such as to obtain for him in 1524 the office of lord treasurer, in Ireland. In 1528, he was again elected lord deputy by the council, and received many valuable testimonies of approbation also from the king. In 1537, he I'eceived a grant in con- firmation of his extensive Irish estates to himself and heirs. The estates mentioned in this give some notion of his wealth. Among' other estates, were the names of Gowran, Knockfert, Knocktopher, Kilkenny, Glashan, Carrick, Thmdes, Nenagh, Roscrea, &c. &:c.f This earl was distinguished for his manly and honourable disposi- tions, which were generally respected; he was sagacious, and firm in council ; a pleasing companion in private society, and a brave warrior in the field. He deserved the high praise of having exerted himself successfully for the improvement of the manners and condition of his people about Kilkenny, at a time when other eminent lords only thought of augmenting their estates and retaining power by unprincipled fac- tion and sanguinary wars. In conformity with this good disposition, * State Papers. f Lodge. 478 THE BUTLERS OF ORMONDE. the earl of Ormonde was exemplary for the zeal and devotion of his religious observances. It is told of him, that every year, for a fort- night previous to Easter, he retired for the pm'pose of self-examina- tion and holy exercise, to prepare himself for the reception of the sacrament at that festival. It must be admitted, that in the long and angry contests between him and the earl of Kildare, he was not behind that earl in hostility; but it was a time when there was no choice between these fierce, and liOt very elevated contests of faction, and the total abandonment of every right. The following letter to his son, lord Butler, then with the king, may convey some notion of his own view of his position, and is otherwise of interest : — " Ormonde to lord Butler. " In my loving maner I recommende me unto you, and lately hath had relacion, that certain of the counsaill, by the deputies meanes, have Avritten over tliider, to have the kinges letters addressed to me, prohi- biting me to take any Irishe mens part. Whereupon, ye most ever have good, secret, and dUigent esjjyall, lest the kinges letters be so optayned, whiche then wold not oonly bee grete prejudice to me, and to you in tyme commyng, but also great diseorage to all myne adlier- entes to continue any amytie to me, or you herafter. Now, ye may perceive the parcialitie of theym, that so certified, being ordred and conducted therin, as the deputie wolde have theym; and diu'ing my being in thauctoritie, they never certified any of therl of Kildares ap- paraunt mysorder, or transgression, in any maner. Shewe the kinges grace, and my lord cardynall, of the soden wilfull invasion doon by the deputie upon O'Kerole, long after the date of the kinges letters now directed ; wherof I have rather certified you by a frere of mows- kery. Wherupon ye must devise in my name, to the king and mv lord cardinall, as my trusty servaunt, Robert Couley, shall penn and endite. " As for thindentures, they bee enfrengedbythe deputie, and in maner no point observed; and as for my parte, I will justifie, I have truly observed theym, to my gret losses, in suffring my adherentes and ser- vauntes distruccions. The deputie, now afore Ester, did set suche coyn and liverey in the 3 obedyent sheres, that mervaile it were to here two litell townes of myne, called Castell Warning, and Oghterarde, with any other towne, did here 420 galloglas. For 4 myies the poor tenauntes be so empoverysshed, that they cannot pave my rentes, and the landes like to bee clere wast. Now, lately he hath sente out of the eschequier a Avrit to Waterforde, that all maires and bailliffes, that were there sens the furst yere of our souverain lord that now is, shold appere in 15 Pa* to geve accompt, before the barons, for al maner the king duties, revenues, and poundage there ; whiche is doon for a can- tcU to put me to losses and my heires. For Waterford hath a suflli- cient discharge, but oonly for my halff of the prises, and the £10 an- nuite, with the 20 markes to the churche; and as for the price, and £10 of aimuite, I must see theym discharged. Wherfore, ye must *Qiiindena Pasrlia. JAMES, NINTH EARL OF ORMONDE. 479 labour to gette an especiall patent of the king" of all the jji'ises in this land, according to my graunte, made to myne anncesters by his most noble progenitours, and specially in Waterford, and the £10 of an- nuitie, without any accompt-making ; with this clause, "absque aliquo compoto," &c. If it bee not had, it will be moche prejudice to you in tyme commying ; for this is doon to di'yve you ever from the principall Avynes, and the said annuitie, and not to have your prises till ye have a discharge out of theschequer, from tyme. In any wise, slepe not this matier, and if ye do, the most losses and trouble wil be yours in tyme commying. Immediat upon the receipt herof sende for Kobert Couly, and cause hym to seche remedies for the same ; and, if James White bee not commying-, let hym endeavor hymself to obteigne it. Furthermore, I desire you to make diligent hast hyther with thekinges licence; for surely, onles I see your tyme better employed in attend- ance of my great busynes, then ye have doon hither, I wolbe well avised, or I do sende you any more to your costes. " Written at Kilkenny, the 22d daye of April. (Superscribed) " To my son, James Butler, with the kings grace in England." This illustrious earl died in 1539? and was buried in St Cauice's church, Kilkenny. JAMES, NINTH EARL OF ORMONDE. DIED A. D. 1546. The ninth earl of Ormonde took a prominent part in the Irish af- fairs of his time, long before the death of his father, in whose memoir we have already had occasion to notice him. He was, for many years, the great support and prop of his father's declining age, whom we can ascertain by his letters, recently published in the State Papers, to have placed much reliance on his zeal and judgment. We have already mentioned his spirited and noble answer to a letter from his unfortunate and guilty cousin. We have also mentioned, that in 1532, seven years before his accession to his father's honoui-s, he was appointed lord high treasurer of Ireland for life. In 1535, he was appointed admiral of the kingdom, and the same year was created viscount Thurles. He was also appointed joint g'ovei'nor with his father, over Kilkenny, W^aterford, and Tipperary; and in the follow- ing year distinguished himself by the suppression of disturbances raised in Munster by James, the young earl of Desmond, whose father having died the same year, he was led by inexperience, inordinate ambition and evil counsel, to launch into the rebellious course so na- tive to his family, and so fatal to many of them. Lord Butler, then lord Thurles, was sent against him, and proceeded with the spirit and prudence of his character, to the attack of his territories about Lim- erick ; he also seized his castle at Lough Gur, and converted it into a fortress against him. We here give the reader one of his own letters on this occasion, which has been preserved in the ciixapter-house, and recently published: — " Lord Butler to Cromwell. "Please it your goodness to be advertised, that I have of late ad- dressed mine other letters to you, containing my proceedings in the west parts of this land, immediately after the winning of Dungarvon, to which my journey, if the lord deputy had spared me one of the battering pieces (God being my leader) undoubtedly such service might have been done with so little charge, that the king's highness should have been therewith pleased and Avell contented. But as it chanced, with such company as I then had of my own, with the good assistance of Stephen Appany, captain of 100 spears, I rode forth to Youghal, Cork, and Limerick, and had, of the young pretended earl of Des- mond, such reasonable offers at his coming in, that I suppose these many days the lords and captains of that country were not so testable to good order, like as more amply appeareth in my former letters. Sir, of truth, the lord deputy* minding to have his service and proceed- ings the better advanced, and blowen out by the report of my lords, my father and me, instantly desired us to put our hands to a letter (devised by himself) in his recommendation [commendation] ; which letter, I suppose, is sent forth by him unto the king's grace. And albeit, my lord, my father's service or mine was never much com- mended by his advertisement, yet partly of courtesy, and also trustij^g he would then with better will have lent me one of the said battering pieces, I put to my hand, and so did my lord, my father, at his return from Waterford, trusting also to have had the said piece to serve against the Breenys. I reckon it no great wisdom, nor yet matter of honour, where any man procureth another to be his herald. And for my part, God and the king knowith my true heart, to whom I humbly commit the construction of my poor service. And since there now repaireth unto his grace. Sir John Saintlaw, who never spared for pain of art and charge to do his grace good service worthy of remun- eration, I commit unto his breast the report of my proceedings, and shall most heartily desire you to thank him for the loving approved kindness I have always found in him towards my lord, my father, and nie. The king's grace, and he himself, being so pleased, my desire is that he may return hither again, since I have at full perceived his diligent service to be such, as if he return not, I shall have great lack of him, as knowith God who ever preserve you. At Waterford, 1 7 day of October, 1535. " Your assured kinsman, (Signed) " James Butler." (Superscribed.) " To my right honourable cousin, and most loving friend, master Cromwell, the king's secretary." Lord Butler's patent, by which he was created lord Thurles, had not yet passed. But it is remarked in a note on this letter, that neither he, nor Grey, or viscount Grane, who were ennobled, or ad- vanced at the same time, seem to have assumed their titles " either in their signatures, or in the style by which they were addressed."| • Skeffington. f Note to paper csl. p. 219. THOMAS, TENTH EARL OF ORMONDE. 481 In consideration of his many and g-reat services, large grants were made to lord Butler in the years 1539 and 1542; of these several were manors which had belonged to the earl of Kildare. In 1539, his father died, and he succeeded to his honours, &c. in the same year he was sent against the Connaught insurgents. In 1543, he had a commission along* with his cousin and Desmond, to make levies through Tipperary, Waterford, Cork, Kerry, to take, imprison, or protect, according to his judgment and the purposes of his commission. Among other commissions, in this busy period of his life, he was sent into Scotland in command of the Irish forces sent over to join the carl of Lenox, and others, in prosecution of a war which had various parties and purposes, but had been promoted and joined by king Henry for views of his own in the year before when he had a con- siderable force at his disposal. In this year the invasion lang-uished, and the English and Irish were withdi'awn without having effected any important service. On this occasion, lord Butler, then ninth earl of Ormonde, is mentioned to have levied 1500 of his own followers — being a number equal to that levied by the deputy, St Leger, for the king'. In 1546, this illustrious nobleman was lost to his time and country in the flower of his age. Having publicly accused the deputy, St Leger, of high treason, the deputy retorted the eharg-e, and both were summoned to England. While residing there he was poisoned, with several of his servants, at Ely house in Holborn. The entertainment is said, by Ware, to have been given him by his own people — the poison was, in all probability, accidental. The number who were poisoned is mentioned by Lodge to have been thirty-five ; Ware says, his steward and sixteen servants. The earl was buried in the church of St Thomas of Acres : but his heart was brought over and buried in the cathedral of St Canice, Kilkenny. We add an extract of his will, which has in- terest. After the directions concerning his burial, he devises that " My Sonne and heyre, being in the prince's graces court, shall have my basin and ewer, which I have here, a silver pot, a salt, a new boll, a trencher, and a, spoon of silver. Item, my wife (Joan, daughter to the 1 1th earl of Desmond), to have my best bracelet of gold sent her for a token. Item, to my lord chancellor of England, my new gilded goblet with the cover, for a token. Item, master Fitz- William, to have a new boll of them that were lately made, for a token, &c., &c." He was succeeded by his eldest son, Thomas, viscount Thurles. THOMAS, TENTH EARL OF ORMONDE. BORN A.D. 1532 — DIED A. D. 1614. In placing the life of this illustrious Irishman in the present period, it becomes necessary to explain a disposition which may otherwise seem to be a violation of the ari'angement which we have adopted; viz., to place our notices according to the death of the persons noticed. We should, however, here observe, that this most convenient general rule has been, all through the previous portion of our work, subject to I. 2 II Ir. another more Important, though less definite principle of arrangement. We have endeavoured, in all the more extended and strictly histo- rical memoirs of contemporary persons, to place them according to the order of the events in which they were mainly concerned; as it is evident that, by this means, the historical order would be best pre- served. Thus our arrangement has been in reality one compounded on both these considerations; and, we may observe, adopted more as a convenience than as a restriction. In the present instance, as in a few more which follow in the close of the period, it will be accordingly observed, that although this earl, together with the first earl of Cork, &c., continue to live into the reign of James I., yet all the great events of their lives fall within the reign of queen Elizabeth, in such a man- ner that, were we to place them in our next period, we should have to travel back into the history of this — a violation of order which would be something more than formal. The tenth earl of Ormonde was born some time about 1532; and, as he was thus but fourteen years old in 1546 — the time of his father's death — ^great precautions were taken to preserve his property against the encroaching" and freebooting spirit of the age. For this purpose it was ordered that the lord justice should draw the English army, at his command, towards the counties of Kilkenny and Tipperary; and it was also ordered that the government of these counties should be committed to his family. He was himself broug-ht up in the English court, and was one of the most favoured companions of the young pi'ince Edward, with whom he was educated. At the age of four- teen, he was made a knight of the Bath, at the coronation of this king. It is also mentioned that the king ordered the lord deputy to in- crease his allowance to the sum of 200 marks.* When he attained his nineteenth year, he obtained by the same favoiu' a year's release of his wardship. He begun his military career at the same time with distinguished honour. It is briefly mentioned, after these inci- dents, by the antiquarians, that he accompanied the duke of Somerset in his expedition against the Scots. This requires some explana- tion; for though the Scottish war alluded to certainly was continued in the same year, yet it is as certain that it was not commanded by the duke of Somerset, who first declared war, and led an expedition into Scotland, in 1547, when Ormonde was but fifteen years of age. In the following years, the command of the armies sent against the Scots was intrusted to the earls of Shrewsbury and Northampton. But military training, at that period, formed so principal a part in edu- cation, that there is no improbability in supposing the military career of this earl to have commenced even so early. These conjectures are confirmed by the mention that he distinguished himself by his bravery in the battle of Musselburgh ; better known in history as the battle of Pinkey, which took place 10th September, 1547. In this battle the Scots were defeated by the English, under the duke of Somerset, with the loss of 14,000 men, of whom 800 were gentlemen. The war was engaged in to compel the Scots to deliver up their young queen, who had been contracted to Edward VI. when they were both children. * Collins, LoJge. THOMAS, TENTH EARL OF ORMONDE. 483 He obtained still higher distinction in his twenty-second year, when he commanded a troop of horse ag-ainst the rebels headed by Sir Thomas Wyatt. This rebellion is supposed to have been caused by the discon- tent of the English at the marriage then on foot between Philip and Mary. The chief conspirators were the duke of ■ Suffolk, Sir Thomas \V"yatt,and Sir Peter Carew, wlio agreed with each other to raise their several counties of Cornwall, Kent, and Warwickshire. Through the indiscretion of Carew, the plot was soon detected. Carew escaped into France; the duke was seized before he could stir to any purpose; and Wyatt was left to pursue his desperate course alone. Of this course we shall only mention the terminating circumstances. W^yatt approached London at the head of a force sufficient to cause great alarm in the court, and to give him high hopes of success. To the queen's messengers, who desired to know his demands, he replied that he demanded to have the Tower and the queen delivered into his hands, with such changes in the council as he should prescribe. Of course these demands were rejected, and W^yatt pursued his march toward London. W^hen he had reached the borough of Southwark, he found the bridge so well fortified that, contrary to his expectations, he could not effect a passage. He was, therefore, obliged to continue Jiis march to Kingston, ten miles higher u^ the river. Here, too, he met with another dangerous delay ^ — the bridge was broken down, and he could not pass Avithout having it first repaired. Having effected this, he passed over with his men, now increased to six thousand. He then set forward on his march to London; but a gun-carriage having broken on his way, he lost more time in repairing it. Two days were thus consumed when he reached London, at nine in the morning of the 3d February, 1554. The captain of the train bands who had joined him deserted, and gave information that it was his plan to enter the city by Ludg-ate. The earl of Pembroke and lord Clinton at first came to the resolution to attack him while entering the city, and a partial attack took place. It was at this period of the affair, that the only occasion occurs in which the young earl could have displayed his valour. Hollinshed, . Avho gives the detail at greater length than we can afford to follow, describes two skirmishes which took place near Hyde Park, and in Charing Cross. In the first of these it was mentioned that while Wyat was marching on the " nether way," towards St James's, " which being perceived by the queen's horsemen, who laie on either side of him, they gave a sudden charge, and divided his battel [^ai^mi/, march- ing in column] asunder hard behind Wyatt's ensigns, whereby so many as were not passed before with Wyatt, were forced to ily back towards Brainford." It was in this charge that the young earl must have taken part. The body thus separated, after a vain attack on St James's, Westminster, attempted to rejoin their leader, and were again assailed in Charing Cross, and scattered after a short resistance and a loss of twenty men. In the course of this affair, it became apparent that he was entangling his army in the streets and lanes which lay on his way towards Ludgate, so that it became impossible for his troops to extend their front, or in any way act in concert. Sending orders to have Ludgate closed, the queen's commanders contented themselves witli fortifying and placing strong detachments in the streets through which he passed, so as to render all retreat impossible. In the mean- time, Wyatt went on anticipating no obstruction, and imagining the whole of his rem.aining course sure, until he came to the gate. There his entrance was impeded, and he was forced to halt; and it was not long before he learned that he was strongly barricaded in on every side. His artillery he had in his confidence left under a guard in Hyde Park, and was now completely entrapped in the midst of enemies, who possessed every advantage they could devise for his extermination. In this dreadful emergency he was accidentally met by Sir Maurice Barkleie, who was riding unarmed near London, and entered into conversation with him. Barkleie advised him to surrender. Wyatt saw the necessity; and, resolved to seize on the occasion, he mounted behind his adviser, and, so says Hollinshed, rode to the court volun- tarily to yield himself prisoner. He was sent to prison; and, after an attempt to implicate the princess Elizabeth, which he subsequently retracted, he was executed in two months after on Towerhill. Thus early distinguished, this earl came over to Ireland, where his own affairs demanded his presence, and, having attained his twenty- second year, it was time for him to take possession of his estates, and assume the place appertaining to his family and rank in the councils of his country. He was not long settled in his possessions, before an occasion arose for his military spirit to obtain fresh distinction. In 155G, the province of Ulster was disturbed by a party of Scots, who besieged Carrick Fergus; and, although they failed in their design upon this town, obtained advantages in diflPerent quarters by associat- ing themselves with the O'Donells, and other chiefs who in these party wars had gathered power, and were beginning to assume a dangerous attitude. .In July, the lord deputy, RatcliflF, marched against them. He was accompanied by Ormonde, who commanded 200 horse, and 500 foot, raised by him.self and maintained at his own cost. On the l<8th of the same month, the lord deputy's army came up with the Scots, and a sharp conflict ensued, in which the Scots and the insui'- gents were defeated with a loss of 200 slain. In this engagement the earl of Ormonde and Sir John Stanley have obtained the princi- pal honour from all historians by whom this affair is mentioned. The three following years were distinguished by great military activity ; and, through the whole course of the marches and encounters during this period, this earl supported the same conspicuous character among the foremost in every bold and difficult enterprise. These occasions are too numerous and too little detailed by histori- cal writers to be here dwelt upon. The uniform distinction of the earl throug'h the whole, is amply testified by the strong indications of the approbation of the English government. In each year his rise is marked by some honourable mark of the royal favour. In 1555, his patent was confirmed for the royalties and liberties of Tipperary — as also his hereditary patent for the prize wines. In 1557, he received a grant of the religious houses of Athassil, Jerpoint, Callan, Thurles, Carrick, &c., with all their hereditaments in the counties of Tipperary, Kilkenny, and Waterford; the manor of Kilrush in the county of Kil- dare, &c., &c., to hold by the service of a single knight's fee, reserving THOMAS, TENTH EAKL OF ORMONDE. 485 a rent of £49 3s. 9cl., afterwards remitted by Elizabeth. The subse- quent grants which he received from Elizabeth, fill more tlian a close- ly printed page of Collins and Archdall, from which the above are abridged. Queen Elizabeth, in the first year of her reign, appointed this earl lord treasurer of Ireland, a post which he retained through his life. There is not a year in the first years of this queen's reign so eventful in Ireland, in which he did not bear a distinguished part, which amply maintain his claim to the foremost place in the councils and confidence of the government. To dwell on the most interesting of these events, would hereafter involve us in much repetition, as they form the ma- terial for the curious and striking history of the memorable insurgent chiefs of this reign, the Desmonds, O'Donell, and Shane O'Niall. But through the whole stormy tissue of rebellion, party war, and provincial disturbance, which seems in his time to be fast attaining its height of violence and frequency; whether as military commander or diplomatic pacificator, the earl's character appears alike eminently bright through the obscurity of the time. After being- successively appointed to the most important offices of trust in every trying and difficult occasion, from 1559 to 1578, he was in the latter year made governor of the province of Munster, when he brought O'Sullivan More into subjec- tion by force of arms, subdued Pierce Grace, Rory Oge, and the Mac- Swiney's, and took the earl of Desmond prisoner, with a slaughter of four thousand men and forty-six officers. In 1581, his honourable career was rewarded by the high office of lord high marshall of England. He did not long continue in this ex- alted station ; but his voluntary resignation is ennobled by the high and patriotic motive. He could not reconcile it to his sense of duty to re- tain a post of which the arduous and engrossing- duties were such as imply an entire separation from his own country. He was allowed, upon his earnest suit, to resign; and in 1582, he returned with the ap- pointment of general of Munster, and a supjily of men. He, at the san^e time, obtained an addition of twopence a-day to the pay of soldiers employed in the Irish service, and by this means, much increased his popularity among the soldiers. In Ireland his services were still called into action on each occasion, where activity, fidelity, and talent were required; and many instances occur in which these conspicuous qualities of his character are placed under requisition by the absence of the deputy, or by some occasion of imexpected emergency. In 1596, he was made a knight companion of the garter. He was appointed general of Leinster in 1597, when Ty- rone's rebellion had assumed a formidable character ; and subsequently in the same year, was made general of all her majesty's forces in Ire- land. Nor was he long at the head of the military operations, when Tyrone applied to obtain a commission to treat with him, which was appointed; and a meeting having accordingly taken place at Dun- dalk, a truce for eight weeks was agreed upon, for the purpose of set- tling the terms of this great rebel's submission, by communication with the English government. These particulars we shall hereafter detail. In January, 1600, the earl obtained a considerable victory over the Bourkes, whom he drove out of Ormonde. Redmond Bourke was forced, 480 DANIEL O'SULLIVAK BEARE. with many of his men, into the Nore, where they were lost. On the following- April, he went with the lord president of Munster to hold a parley with Owen Mac Rory O'More, who treacherously seized upon him ; the lord president Carew escaped hy the swiftness of his horse. Ormonde gave hostages for the payment of £3000, in case he should seek revenge. After this, his conduct was not less distinguished by unremitting efficiency in his high station, imtil the death of the queen. She had ever retained the highest regard for him, and professed to consider him as her kinsman. King James, on his accession, renewed his commission as commander of the Irish army. His biographers mention, that a little before this period he had lost his sight — a fact which, according to the dates of some of the enter- prises above mentioned, compared with that assigned for his personal misfortune, woidd seem to imply, that he must, when blind, have con- tinued to take the field against the rebels: as the period of about fifteen years before his death, assig'ned as the time of his blindness by Collins, Lodge, &c., would make it to have occurred in 1599. He died in 1614, in the 82d year of his age, and was buried in the choir of St Canice's church, Kilkenny. His monument cost £400. DANIEL O SULLIVAN BEARE. FLOURISHED A. D. 160L The chiefs of Bearo and Bantry claim the interesting distinc- tion whicli belongs to the most romantic localities in this island, the scenes of their ancient crimes and honours. Where the broad waves of the Atlantic rush fiercest among the deep and rock-bound bays of the wild promontories of Kerry, there stand the ruins of the O'Sul- livans' dwellings. Turbulent and warlike, in common with their ancient peers, the chiefs and princes of the island, barbarous with the age, they were, by the accident of position, more fierce, lawless, and independent, than their territorial pretensions would otherwise seem to imply. In the harbours of their sterile and isolated domain, the pirate and the smug- gler found the surest anchorage, and the readiest mart or storehouse for his lawless cargo ; nor did the spirit of the time attach dishonour to an alliance which the advance of civilization has converted into crime. Still more important was the influence and distinction which the O'Sullivans must have acquired from the advantage of possessing the main entrance of that communication with Spain, which was actively maintained during the 15th and I6th centuries. During these ages of turbulence, when enterprise and adventure were among the ordinary events of life, many are the wild romances and deep tragedies which were realized among those wild and savage sites — in Avhichthe tyrant's fortress and the plunderer's cave were nothing different ; and here, as Otway tells us in his book of pictures, we can hardly call them sketches, " every man is an O'Sullivan." Bearhaven and Bantry, and all the still wild districts around, are peopled by the same ancient sept, and DANIEL O'SULLIVAN BEARE. 487 i etaiii the traces of their ancient lords ; and many ruins still preserve the remembrances of their history. The composition by which the castles in the possession of the Spaniards were surrendered to the Eng-lish genei'al, could not fail to be highly offensive to the Irish chiefs by whom they had been placed in their hands ; but, most of all, to O'Sullivan Beare, whose chief castle of Dunboy being among the ceded places, he was thereby, in a manner, himself delivered up to the mercy of the English governor. He, consequently, resolved to regain it, as he might, before this sur- render should occur. Accordingly, in the dead of the night, be caused a hole to be made in the wall, through which eighty of his own people stole into the castle. Outside he had stationed a strong party, among whom are mentioned Archer the Jesuit, the lord of Lisnaw, Donell M'Carthy, captain Tyrrel, &c., with 1000 men. All the while, O'Sul- livan himself, who lodged within the castle, was quietly sleeping in his bed. Early in the morning the Spanish commander discovered how he was circumstanced; but, by the intervention of Archer, who led him to O'Sidlivan, he was preA'^ented from making the resistance he could yet have easily made. They had some difficulty in restraining the Spanish soldiery, who slew three men before they could be pacified ; but order was soon restored, and O'Sullivan took the command of Dunboy castle. Having disarmed the Spaniards, and sent off the common men to Baltimore to be shipped for Spain, he took possession of their ordnance and stores, and sent a letter to the king of Spain excusing his violent seizure of the castle, professing his intention to retain it for the use of the king, and adding, " not only my castle and haven, called Bearhaven, but also my wife, my children, my country, lord- ships, and all my possessions for ever, to be disposed of at your plea- sure." He then, in very strong terms, complains of the injustice of Don Juan's conduct, in having- surrendered by treaty his castle of Dunboy, which he describes " the only key of mine inheritance, where- upon the living of many thousand persons doth rest that live some twenty leagues upon the sea-coast." Among other things, in this epistle we learn, that with the letter O'Sullivan sent his son, a child of five years old, as a pledge for the performance of his promises. This letter, with others from the same chief, were intercepted between Kin- sale and Cork.* In another letter of the same packet and date to the " earl of Carracena," there occurs a brief version of the above transac- tion, in which he says, that although the Spaniards killed three of his best gentlemen, that he would not suffer them to be molested, but, " with- out harm, forced them out of my said castle, saving their captain, with five or six, unto whom I have allowed certain roomes in my house to look to the king's munition and artillerie;" he then urges speedy re- lief, or else a small ship to be sent to carry away himself and his family into Spain. In another letter, deprecating the ruin of his own family, he describes them, " whose ancestors maintained the credit and calling of great gentlemen these two thousand and six hundred years, sithence their first coming out of Spaine." To maintain this deed and those pretensions, O'Sullivan made active * Pac. Ilibcr. and energetic preparations; but his main dependance was upon tLe hired bands of Tyrrel and Burke. On hearing of this obstacle to the fulfihnent of his treaty with the lord-deputy, Don Juan immediately volunteered to reduce Dunboy, but the offer was civilly declined; and instructions were given to the earl of Thomond to assemble an army and di*aw towards the place. He was instructed to burn the country of Carbery, Beare, and Bantry ; to protect the chiefs who had submitted ; to take a view of the castle ; to relieve captain Flower, who was in these districts with a small party, and to make other usual preparations for the attack of Dunboy. The earl of Thomond marched to the abbey of Bantry, where he gained intelligence that Daniel O'Sullivan Avas engaged in strengthen- ing his works at Dunboy, and that Tyrrel had so judiciously placed himself among the mountains, that he could not with his present force attempt to pass farther. On this the earl of Thomond left his troops with captain Flower, the lord Barry, and other eminent officers, in the Isle of Whiddy, and went to Cork, to give an account to Sir G. Carew of the position of the enemy. Carew decided on instantly assembling all the force within his reach and marching into Kerry. The expedition was attended with great peril, both from the nature of the country, and the strength of a fortress which was thoug-ht to be impregnable ; and Sir George Carew's friends and counsellors strongly dissuaded him from an attempt unlikely to succeed, and of which the failure would be injurious to the English cause, and hazardous to him- self. Such fears had no place in the heart of the brave Carew, whose courage was not inferior to his prudence, or his military genius to either. To the strong dissuasion of those friends who described to him the tremendous obstacles and perils of the march, he replied, " That neither bays nor rocks should forbid the di'aught of the cannon : the one he would make passable by faggots and timber — the other he would break and smooth with pioneers' tools." On the 20th April, 1602, he drew out his army from Cork, amounting to 1500 men, and began his march, and in seven days came to Carew castle, anciently built by his ancestors, at a place now well known to the visitor of Glengariffe under the name of Dunemarc. He Avas joined by cap- tain FioAver, who had been stationed in the vicinity by the earl of Thomond. Here the army continued for some time AA-Ith an occasional skirmish ; they also contrived to collect considerable spoil in coavs, sheeji, and horses. Fifty cows were brought into the camp by Owen O'Sullivan, son to Sir Owen O'Sullivan, Avho continued faithful to the queen's gOA^ernment. Sir G. CareAV, hearing that the Spanish artillerymen were yet In Dunboy, wrote them a letter in Spanish desiring them to come out ; It Avas delivered by means of Oavcu O'SulllA'an, but had not the desired effect. During this time Sir Chai'les Wilmot, Avho had been made governor of Kerry, had performed many important services, seizing on several castles in the country, and obtaining the victory in three or four small battles. He Avas noAV sent for to join the president. On the 14th of May a consultation was held to consider the best means of bringing the army to Bearhaven; and, as the difficulties of the way were fully described to the lord-president by Owen O'Sullivan aud other Kerry g-entlemen, it was decided to transport the army across the arm of the sea which lay between, to Bear Island, on the other side of which, on the opposite shore, stood the castle of Dunboy. But, from the roughness of the weather, it was not till the last day of May the army could be moved from Carew castle. The sick were then placed with a strong guard in the Island of Whiddy; aud on the first and second of June the army crossed Bantry bay. On the 4th, the castle of Dunraanus was surprized by Owen O'Sul- livan ; and on the next day intelligence reached the camp that a Spanish vessel had put into the bay of Camnara, near Ardee. The rebel party seem at this period to have conceived the notion that the English might be discouraged by the dangers and difficulties of their under- taking. Richard MacGeoghegan, constable of the fort, was sent to obtain a parley with the earl of Thomond, to whom he pretended great aftection, and warned him of the dangers to which he was about to be exposed by the useless attack of so strong a place. He advised him not to risk his valuable life by landing on the main land, " For i know," he said, " that you must land at yonder sandy bay, where be- fore your coming the place will be so trenched and gabioned as you must runne upon assured death." Such, in fact, was the contrivance and expectation of the rebels. A low sandy beach presented the only obvious point at which an enemy's attempt might be expected, and it was strongly defended in the manner described by MacGeoghegan. But the circumspection of Carew over- reached the tactics of his antagonists. He first contrived, with a small party, to get possession of a little island close to the sandy bay; on this he placed a couple of falconets and landed two regiments, so as to lead the enemy to believe that from that position he intended to attack their works and effect a landing on the beach. But, in the mean time, moving about in a small pinnace, Carew discovered a very conve- nient landing-place on the main land, which was concealed from the Irish party by a small eminence, and, though within a few hundred yards, separated from them by a deep rocky cleft which reached in for half a mile. Having made this observation a few hours before, he was enabled to conduct the operation in a most unsuspicious manner. While his men on the lesser Island were making all preparations for an attack, and the whole attention of O'SuUivan's party on the shore was engrossed by watchful and anxious expectation, Carew stood on the further side of the island to direct his own captains, who were sailing up for the purpose of effecting- a landing. To these he pointed out the unsuspected and unguarded spot, and tlie vessels again stood out from the bay, and, tacking short, reached it without notice, and landed their troops to the amount of two regiments under Sir C. Wilmot and Sir Richard Percy. When Carew saw that they were disembarked, he immediately ordered his own regiment and the earl of Thomond's into their boats, and they were all quickly under sail and out toward the same spot. This could not of course escape the notice of the enemy, who watched with all their eyes ; and the nature of the movement was at once conjectured. Away they all rushed at their utmost speed; but they had a long circuit to perform, and before they could be half round the cleft, the lord-president with his whole party were lauded and drawii 490- DANIEL O'SULLIYAF BEAEE. uj> to meet tlieui ou good fii-m ground. A skirmisli not worth detail was the result, and the Irish party were put to flight. About two hours after this incident, the Irish received the cheer- ing intelligence of the Spanish vessel, already mentioned, having landed in Ardee ; and as the lord-president was afterwards in- formed by some of those who were then among the Irish, the ac- count confirmed their courage, at a moment when they were beginning to waver. At Ardee, the ammunition and treasure were delivered to O'Sullivan Beare himself, who forwarded a supply of ammunition to Dunboy. The treasure amounted to £12,000, and was sent in shares to different Irish chiefs, £1500 being the share of O'Sullivan Beare; some letters from Ardee also were sent to different persons. One of these from the Jesuit Archer to Dominick Colling, a friar in Dunboy, is worthy of notice. Letter from James Archer, Jesuit, to Dominick Collins, Jesuit, at Dunhoy. " Your letters of Thursday last came to our hands, but our dis- agreeing in some matters, makes to bee slacke in performing your desire, yet you must take better order for the premises ; in the meane while, however becomes of our delayes or insufficiencies, bee yee of heroical minds, (for of such consequence is the keeping of that castle, that every one there shall surpasse in deserts any of us here ; and for noble valiant souldiers shall passe immortall throughout all ages to come;) for the better encouraging, let these words be read in their hearing: out of Spaine we are in a vehement expectation, and for powder, lead, and money, fm*nished. Now to come to more particular matters; understand, that there are but two wayes to attempt you, that is scaling' with ladders, or battery: for scaling, I doubt not but your owne wits neede no direction ; and for battery, you may make up the breach by night. The higher you rayse your workes, evei'y way the better, but let it bee thick and substantiall : raise of a greater height that worke captaine Tirrell made, betwixt the house and the Cornell, make plaine the broken house on the south side: for fire work direction doe this, prime the holes and stop in the balls, with powder mixt through the materiall well, and some powder that shall take fire; the rest you know, as you have heard me declare there. By all meanes possible send me one ball, and the rest of the saltpeeter. This is in haste till better leasure. Campe this Thursday. " Your loving Cousen, " James Archer."* " To Father Dominiclie Collins, these in haste." The following letter is also valuable for the distinct view it will give the reader of the operations which the writer describes : — A letter from John Anias, to Dominick Collins, Jesuit, at Dunboy. " Be carefuU of your fortifying continually ; with a most special] care rayse in height the west side of your port ; fill your chambers on the south and north side with hides and earth; what battery is made * Pacata Hib. DANIEL O'SELLIVAN BEARE. 491 suddenly repayre it like valiant souldiers; make plaine, in the south side the remnant of the broken houses ; make wayes out of" the hall to scowes and cast stones upon the port, and if the enemy would attempt the like, dig- deepe that place wee first begun, and a trench above to defend the same, as I have sayd unto you. Although wee expect speedie reliefe out of Spaine, yet bee you wise to preserve the store of victualls discreetly. Devise yourselves all the invention possible to hold out this sieg'e, which is the greatest honour in this king'dome. With the next I shall prepare shoes for you; send me the cord as long' line, add the rest of the saltpeter, withall the yron borriers, seven peeces iu all. Salute in my name Richard Magogheg-ane, praying' God to have of his speciall grace that care of your successe. From the campe, the of June, 1602. " Your loving Cousen, "John Anias."* *' To Father DominicJc, Beerehaven, these.'' This John Anias was very soon after taken prisoner by John Berry, the constable of Castlemagne, and condemned to die by the sentence of court-martial. While under sentence of death, he wrote the fol- lowing characteristic letter to the baron of Lisnaw: — A letter from John Anias to the Baron of Lisnaw, a little before his e.fecution. " In trust is treason ; so Wingfield betrayed me. My death satisfies former suspicions, and gives occasion hereafter to remember mee; and as ever I aspire to inmiortallize my name upon the earth, so I would request you by vertue of that ardent affection I had toward you in my life, you would honour my death, in making mention of my name in the register of your countray. Let not my servant Cormack ■want, as a faithfull servant unto me; let my funerall and service of the Catholique church bee observed for the soule. Heere I send you the passe and letter of that faithlesse Wingfield, having charged the bearer upon his dutie to God, to deliver this into your hands. O'Sulli- van was strange to mee, but inures himselfe to Avant mee. Commend mee to captaine Tirrell, O'Connor, your sister Gerode Oge. This the night before my execution, the eighth day of November, 1602, and upon this sudden I cannot write largely, " jYour loving bedfellow, " Sometimes, " ISMAEITO." The next day after the landing, Carew having led out the army to a narrow isthmus within a mile of the castle, stole out of the camp shortly after to view the ground in its immediate vicinity. Proceed- ing on horseback with Sir C. Wilmot, until they approached Avithin small shot of the castle, they were soon discovered and saluted with a few discharges from the soldiers upon the walls ; but with the excep- tion of Sir Charles' horse which was wounded in the foot, they suffered no injury. Within " twelve score" of the castle, an unsuspected posi- * Piicata Ilib. f Ibid. 492 DANIEL O'SULLIYAN BEAEE. tion, most curiously adapted for tlieir purpose, was discovei'ed by the prompt perception and military eye of Carew. A slight rise in the ground concealed the spot from the castle, but was not high enough to interrupt the range of a small platform among the rocks, which seemed to have been cut out by the hand of nature for a battery. Neither the owner of the castle, nor one of his countrymen in the English camp, were aware of the treacherous recess which had so long awaited the guns of an enemy to render it fatal. When the lord- president returned to his officers and explained his design to plant a battery among the rocks on the other side of the castle, Owen O'Sullivan and other Irish gentlemen insisted that it would be impos- sible to find space among the rocks for cannon to be placed so as to command the castle. Carew assured them that he would plant his battery without the loss of a man, and in seven days make himself master of the place. In the castle, no apprehension was entertained of their danger; they attempted to annoy the army by a cannonade, but their balls fell near or in the camp without force to do any mischief. The castle of Dunboy was a square pile of building enclosed with a strong wall sixteen feet in height, and faced with turf, faggots, and pieces of timber to the thickness of twenty-four feet. A low pjlatform was sunk on the point from >vhich any attack was considered likely to be made; and the entire skill of its defenders was exhausted in fore- seeing and providing against every possible danger. Their knowledg-e was nevertheless but rude, and all these precautions were neutralized by the oversig-hts they committed, the disadvantages of the structure they had to defend, and the rapid judgment of Carew. Several days elapsed before the president could bring his plan into effect. The landing of the cannon was found to be an operation of great difficidty. The only landing-place which had the necessary advantages of being" near the projected position, and accessible without the risk of interruption, was upon examination found to present in- surmountable obstacles to the conveyance of the guns, as the way Avas broken by marshy and rocky passages. There was another still moi'e convenient spot, but to reach it, a narrow creek close to the castle walls was to be entered ; and this at last was resolved on. The mouth of this creek was within forty yards of the castle, and Carew there- fore sent in the greater part of his stores and lesser ordnance in boats, which stole in undiscovered in the dead hours of a dark night ; but their boats were unequal to the weight of the cannon and culve- rins, and no one " durst adventure in the hoy to carry them by night."* To meet this difficulty, captain Slingsby volunteered to enter in the hoy by daylight, with thirty musqueteers. Disposing these men so that with the least possible exposure they could when required keep up a fire upon the castle gunners, captain Sling-sby took advantage of a very favourable breeze, and the castle only succeeded in making two discharges upon him before he swept full sail into the creek, when he was instantly out of range of its guns. While these operations were in progress, other important points ^- Pacata Hib. DANIEL O'SULLIVAN BEARE. 493 were also carried; the Irish had fortified the little island of the Dorsles, with three pieces of Spanish artillery, and forty chosen men. Carew, considering that it might easily be taken while the attention of the castle was kept in play by his approaches, then fairly in progress, sent Owen O'SuUivan, and captain Bostock, in a pinnace and four boats, with a hundred and sixty men to attack the island. They suc- ceeded in taking the fort after a smart opposition; there Owen O'SuUivan had the fortune to recover his wife, who had been a pri- soner for the last eight months. The spoil was large, five hundred milch cows being taken on the island; the fort they razed to the ground. On the same night a bullet from the castle wall entered the circle of officers who stood in conference with Carew in the midst of their camp, and smashed several bones of captain Slingsby's hand. On the following night about midnight, captain Tyrrel gave them an alarm, having approached so near as to pour a volley into the camp which riddled the tents well, but hurt nobody ; a very slight resistance was sufficient to compel this active partizan to retire. Many other slight accidents occurred daily, while the gabions, trenches, and plat- forms, were in course of execution, until the 16th, when they were finished. One of these days, Sir G. Carew was with the earl of Thomond and Sir C. Wllmot, taking a ride along the shore, when Carew espied one of the artillery-men on the castle wall traversing a gun; " this fellow," said the president, " will have a shot at us," as he quickly reined in his horse and watched the event. He had scarcely spoken the last word, when the gun was fired, and the ball struck the earth between him and his companions, who had spurred on, and iust cleared the spot with their horses' heels, when the earth was thrown up about them. Carew, glad to see them safe, told them lauo-hino-, that if they were as good " cannoneers as they were commandei-s they would have stood firm as he did," and explained that " the gunners ever shoot before a moving mark. " At five o'clock in the morning of the I7th, the whole of Carew's preparations were made, and his battery began to play. He wasted none of his fire on the strong barbican, but ordered the guns to be levelled at the castle which stood unprotected at a dangerous height above; and about nine, a south-western tower, the fire from which had been very troublesome, came with its falcon, thunderino- to the ground, burying under it many of the garrison, and filling up the in- judiciously narrow space of six or seven feet between the castle and the outer wall. The English guns were next turned upon the west front of the castle, which soon in like manner encumbered the court with ruin. The garrison on this sent out an oflTer of surrender on condition ; but as they did not discontinue their fire, their proposal was not received. An assault was then commanded, and its details having been fully arranged, the barbican was quickly scaled by the companies appointed, who were bravely seconded by the remainder of Carew's and the ear] of Thomond's regiment, and a long, desperate, and confused fight of several hours began, of which no description can give any adequate idea. Whenever the hostile parties met hand to hand, the advantage lay with the besieg-ers who were superior both in number and in quality; but there was no flinching on the part of the garrison, who knowing that they were to receive no quarter, fought with the fury of desperation ; and every floor or landing-place, or corner of advantage, was the scene of a bloody encounter, or a fierce and fatal siege. Doors tvere barricaded and forced, falcons and culverins, loaded with ball and bullet, seized on and discharged by either party ; and every court, pas- sage, or rampart, filled Avith the din, smoke, havoc and uproar of this fierce and protracted struggle for victory or life. The south and south- west turrets for a little time continued to cannonade each other, until the Irish gunner on the former was killed by a shot. The gun being disabled, and the English on the opposite tuiret pouring in an incessant and well-directed fire, the Irish were compelled to dislodge; they re- treated to the narrow space between the east front and the curtain of the barbican which lay within a few feet of it, so that they were for a while enabled to make a gallant defence against those repeated charges of the English. Here the conflict became long and furious, for the place was too narrow for the use of fire-arms ; and it became a fierce trial of physical strength and endurance between the two parties. In this, the English for a while were exposed to a very severe disadvantage: for besides the desperate party who stood at bay before them in the narrow space between two enclosing walls, they had to sustain a fierce attack from the tower overhead, whose numerous loop-holes and stair- case windows looked down upon tlie strife ; from these shot and large stones came pouring so as to kill and wound many. At last, when tho endurance of the assailants must have begun to give way, a fortunate accident gave them a key to this apparently impracticable position. A sergeant of captain Sllngsby's, by clearing away some rubbish in the tower from which the English had been firing Immediately pre- vious to the attack then going on, discovered a window from which, by means of the heap of ruins that filled the narrow court, he saw at once that they could command the passage defended by the Irish. This important ruin was quickly seized and occupied by the assail- ants, who thus charged down from the breach, and soon scattered those who had made so long a defence in the narrow passage thus laid open. Of these, all fell save eight, who escaping up the breach sprang out into the sea, where their hapless fate awaited them from the enemy's boats, which were stationed there to let none escape. The fight was not yet ended. A party of Irish held a strong vault beneath the same tower, and when this was cannonaded from the broken wall which slanted down upon it so near that it was battered from the mouth of falcon and saker, the g-arrison (then reduced to seventy-seven men,) escaped to the cellars underneath, to which the only entrance was a narrow perpendicular stair. This put an end to the conflict — attack and defence were equally out of the question, and it became a trial of a more tranquil but far more dreadful kind — how long the famine and cold of the dreary dungeons beneath could be endured by the unfortunate wretches, who having done all that bravery could do, at the end of a bloody day were now reduced to a choice of deaths from which humanity must always shrink. They had, on discovering the hopelessness of their condition, off"ered to surrender on terms ; but this was sternly rejected, and Dominick Collins alone came out and gave himself up. The night passed thus; and early in the morning twenty-three more Irish, with two Spanish gunners and an Italian, came out. It was not long till a message was sent from beneath to inform the lord-president that they had nine barrels of powder beneath, with which they would instantly blow up the castle, unless he would promise to spare their lives ; Carew refused. He therefore ordered a battery to be prepared to fire downward on the vaults of the castle, and the bullets soon made their way into the crowded cellar ; on this, forty-eight men compelled their captain, Taylor, to surrender. On receiving this intimation, several English officers descended to receive them: when they reached the cellars, captain Power by good fortune caught a sight of MacGeoghegan the constable, who lay desperately mangled with mortal wounds, slowly raising himself from the floor; and having snatched a lighted candle, he was dragging himself over to an open barrel of powder. As his purpose could not be for a moment doubted, the captain sprung for- v/ard and seized him in his arms, and he was slain by one of the men who also had observed the whole. There was no further resistance, and Taylor with his men were led prisoners to the camp. In this affair the English lost two officers, and many were wounded; of the privates, sixty-two were wounded, of whom many died v/ithin a few days: it was the most desperate defence ever made by the insurgents. As it was considered that the castle could not without great delay be put again into a defensible condition, the nine barrels of powder which had been discovered in the cellars, were employed to blow it up. This castle was the most important support of O'SuUivan's power; com- manding Bantry bay, which was a source of considerable profit to him, both as the best fishery in Ireland, and as a well-frequented port for the fishermen of all those nations from whom the chief received a small addition to his revenue in the shape of duties. It was presently ascertained that the capture of Dunboy was a decisive blow; as it had the eff"ect of interrupting and terminating the formidable preparations which, at the instance of O'Donell, the court of Spain had ordered for a fresh invasion. In this island there was now remaining but little reliance on any means of resistance, but the long-desired and tenaciously-held expectations from Spain; and only in proportion as this feeling became weakened by repeated dis- appointment, the mind of the country showed any settled indications of a disposition to subside. These hopes, thoug-h now broken by severe disappointment, long indeed continued to delude many of the less reflecting and more restless spirits, too barbarous to be taught by the evidence of the most disastrous events, and too sanguine for experience to cool down. Some were indeed impelled by the desperation of their circumstances. Among these was O'Sullivan Beare ; he had carried resistance to a length which now left him nothing to give up. The stern and un- compromising spirit of Carew was too well known to admit of any hope that he would relent in favour of one whom it was his policy to consider simply as a rebel. The fierce old chief was taught to feel, that however desperate might be the hope of resistance, that his life 49G DANIEL O'SULLIVAN BEAR^. or liberty at least, was involved in the flishonoiir of snbmission. Hig castles had been taken — the stroug-hold of Dunboy Avas no more — Carriganass, his own dwelling on the banks of the river Ouvane, was in the hands of the enemy. A happy change might he thought arrive, when O'Donell should return with a powerful fleet and army, to draw away and to defeat the cruel and powerful foe against which the castles and arms of the island seemed as nothing. To these desperate resolu- tions, the mountain ramparts of Kerry presented a welcome retreat of impregnable strength. In this vast and formidable wilderness of rugged defiles and dangerous precipices, the heart of resistance might be kept alive for better days; the arms and discipline of the stranger would little avail in the dangers and intricacies of the moi'ass and hollow ravine; the fatal enginery against which the ancient towers of Dunboy had been found weak, would make no impression on the un- scaleable and firm-built ramparts of the Slievelogher chain. There the brave and skilful partizan Tyrrel, still kept together his band of hardy mercenaries, every one a chosen man, and by dexterously main- taining a centrtil movement amomr this broad chain of natural fortifi- cations, contrived in security to ovei'look the war in Munster, and to be present whenever mischief could be done to the enemy. To join this light-heeled warfare, O'Sullivan now retreated; but the heights and hiding-places of Slievelogher were of little avail against the active pertinacity of Wilmot. This last struggle, without losing any thing of the fierceness and inveteracy which it derived from the re- spective situation of the parties, acquired new horrors from the manner iu which it was carried on: the animosity of contention was heightened by the romantic and fiery interest of a wild, difiicult, and perilous pursuit — concealment combined with resistance to give defence the anxious character of escape and surprize — suspense, anxious search, and the deepening interest of active pursuit, gave to war the animation of the chase. But here, in their native fastnesses, the activity and skill of Tyrrel and his bonnoghs were overmatched by the knowledge of the English leader and the unflagging bravery of his men: they were com- pelled to retreat from post to post along- these mountains, at every step becoming more weak and destitute of resources, until they were driven from their last stand. We forbear entering upon the incidents of this mountain war, of which the particulars are too indistinctly related in the Pacata Hihernia, and other contemporary records, for the purpose of distinct historical detail. The rebels had formed a distinct plan, in which O'Sullivan, Tyrrel, M'Carthy, and O'Conor Kerry, had their allotted parts. They were first deserted by Tyrrel, who had in the course of the operations following the capture of Dunboy, suffered one or two very severe reverses, and was deprived of the greater part of his provisions and accumulated plunder; so that notwithstanding his agreements with O'Sullivan, he suddenly changed his course, and leaving behind his sick, with baggage and every thing- that could retard a hasty march, he drew off sixty miles in the country of O' Carrol. Under these circumstances it was, that Wilmot with the lord Barry and Sir George Thornton, encamped in Glengariffe, on a small space of firm ground, on all sides surrounded with bogs and forests. The DANIEL O'SBLLIVAN BEAEE. 497 spot was so narrow that their small party was partly encamped on the boggy g-round, neither was there another spot so large of tenable ground, within five miles, on any side. Nevertheless, within two miles, O'Sullivan and William Burke, who like Tyrrel was a captain of bonnoghs, were encamped. Here some furious night attacks were repelled with little loss, and on the 31st December, Wilmot ordered their fastnesses to be beaten up by six hundred men, on which a " bitter fight" took place, and continued for six hours.* In this the English were repelled; but being reinforced by a small reserve, the balance of the fight was restored, and it raged on with great blood- shed until night. Many were slain on both sides, but as usual the heavy loss of life fell on the Irish. The great advantages under which they fought, in reality only served to delude them into the error of an imaginary equality, and by keeping up resistance, vastly aggravated their loss. By this fight they lost 2000 cows, 6000 sheep, and 1000 garrans, which latter we presume to have consisted wholly or chiefly of those small ponies which are to be found in Kerry, Wales, and other moun- tain regions. This event was nearly decisive, it caused many of the chiefs and captains of the rebel party to sue for grace. O'Sullivan's last cap- tain, William Burke, who had on that day commanded the Irish army, made great exertions to stop this defection, but in vain; even O'Sullivan appeared disheartened, and Burke himself began to think of following on the steps of Tyrrel. Against this O'Sullivan strongly protested, appealing to their agreement and the benefits he had con- ferred. The mountain bandit (for this best describes him), was fired by the remonstrance, he swore the g"ame was over in Kerry, that he had lost more valuable men than the treasures of Spain could repay, and with violent curses accused himself of folly for having remained so long in Munster. He made no further delay, but fled with 200 men into O'Carrol's country. O'Sullivan, thus abandoned, was not subdued in spirit; but seeming* to gather " resolution from despair," he now determined to make his way as he might to Ulster, where the fate of Tyrone was yet suspended in fearful uncertainty, after a reverse which turned his hostile movements into a desperate and wavering defence. With O'Conor Kerry, and a small party of those desper- adoes, known by the name of bonnoghs, and best conceived as a sort of military " spalpeens," they commenced a dangerous retreat along the borders of Muskerry. As they went on their way they were attacked by Feague Owen M'Carthy, and lost most of their carts and many men. A little further on John Barry, brother to viscount Barry, made a charge upon them at the ford of Belaghan, with a small party of eight horse and forty foot, and with the loss of one man, dealt slaughter and confusion among their enfeebled ranks. Again they were met on the banks of the Shannon, while they were effecting a most difficult passage, by the sheriff" of Tipperary, who having received an intimation of their approach, was prepared with his posse comitatus to resist their passage. Their position was then one of trying emer- gency — one which might have brought to mind the famous lament of * Pacata Hiliernia. I- 2 1 Tr. 498 FLORENCE M'CAETHY. tlie Britons, when their Saxon invaders were driving- them to the sea. O'SuUivan and O'Conor with their bold and desperate companions felt neither the terror nor the want of resource of these primitive savages ; while the din of an irregular pursuit came over the hills upon their ears, and the scattered g-roups of the pursuers appeared at no g'reat distance rushing out from woods or crossing the green hills, they hastily killed and flayed a number of their horses, and construct- ing rude little boats of their skins they managed to escape over the flood with much of their baggage. This was not efi'ected without some loss, as their embarkation was not entirely complete when the sheriff's men came up and slew several. From this, however, they were enabled to cross a considerable tract of Connaught without inter- ruption, till they reached the coast of Galway, where they were again attacked in the O'Kelly's country, by Sir Thomas Burke, brother to the earl of Clanricarde, and captain INIalby. The attack was con- ducted with most unaccountable rashness. O'Conor and O'SuUivan, practised in the prompt use of all available positions, occupied a well- protected pass, rendered impracticable to assailants by its rocky barrier, and covered from their fire by the branching copse which crested the low chain of cliffs behind which they lay. Burke and Malby only consulting their impetuous valoui', and scorning a fugitive enemy which had been beaten across the country from post to post, charged fiercely into the ravine, and were received by a deadly, deliberate, and unerr- ing fire, which was followed by a sudden charge, that left many of the brave assailants on the ground. Among these was captain Malby. His fall decided the affair. Bui'ke and his people were discouraged and fled ; on which O'SuUivan and O'Conor wei-e enabled to pursue their way to the desired land of refuge in O'Rourke's country. Their victory, an effort of desperation favoured by accident, had no other result. In the mean time, O'SuUivan's warders in Kerry, were so pressed by Wilmot, and disheartened by the desertion of their lord, that they gave up whatever forts and castles yet remained uncaptured. In the country of O'Rourke, a district more rude and unexplored than any other in Ireland, the last sparks of rebellion maintained their ineffectual life, O'SuUivan and O'Rourke being the only persons of any name or authority who still held out, and this as the noble writer of the Pacata Hihernia observes, more from fear than daring — " obstinate only out of their diffidence to be safe in any forgiveness."* From this we have no very satisfactory account of O'SuUivan Beare. But as his name disappears from history, we may assume his death to have soon after occurred. FLORENCE MCCARTHY. FLOURISHED A. D. IGOl. Florence McCarthy's name is of too frequent recurrence in the civil wars of this period to be passed without some notice further than * Pacp-ta Hibeniia. FLORENCE M'CARTHY. 499 he may have appeared to liave received at our hands, in a few pre- ceediug memoirs ; but in truth we have little if any thing- to add to these casual notices. M'Carthy's title to notice is more due to station and circumstance, than to any personal distinction. We shall as briefly as possible offer a summary of all that we find any account of in his history. When the earl of Tyrone visited Munster to organize the rebellion in that quarter, it was at the pressing- instance of this Florence M'Carthy, who had his own interests in view. The M'Carthys of Desmond had at the time raised Donald, an illegitimate son of the earl of Clancare, to the title of M'Carthy More. Tyrone displaced him, and without opposition set up his friend Florence in his room. The speciousness of this hollow intriguer had in like manner already won him the favour of the English government; and he made use of the importance thus obtained to court the favour of the Irish chief. His first demonstration was not, it is true, altogether consistent with the trimming and shuffling caution for which his subsequent career is so remarkable ; but he was for a little while imposed upon by appear- ances, which were beyond his sagacity to penetrate. The slackness and remissness of the English court in providing against the growing storm and the increasing power of the Irisli insurgents, whicli was thus inadequately opposed, gave a universal impulse to Irish disaffection. Nor can the charge be confined to Florence M'Carthy, which seems at the time to have amounted to a national characteristic, of taking part with the strongest. At the period of Carew's first arrival in Munster, all seemed to favour the cause of the insurrection ; and M'Carthy, like many others, rushed forward under a press of sail before the prosperous wind. It was in the latter end of April, that he contrived an ambuscade, at a ford between Cork and Kinsale, to intercept a party of English which liad been detached into Carbery, under captains Flower and Bostock. Fortunately the ambush was detected in time, as the English party were advancing without the least apprehension of an enemy, scarcely in order, and having- but a few matches burning, it happened that captain Bostock who rode before espied the glancing sunbeam from some of the steel morions of the soldiers, who were lurking in the low glen towards which he was riding ; he instantly turned back, but without any appearance of haste or alarm, and gave the word to the soldiers to be ready : the time was not quite sufficient for preparation, when the rebels perceiving themselves to be discovered, sprung up with a shout from the neighbouring stones and brushwood, and came on with great impetuosity. The English were for a few minutes over- whelmed, both by the violence of the charge and the numbers of the enemy. But the real strength of the steady English was then, as now, the firmness of nerve, that resists the impulse of a first disorder, and renders them capable of that most difficult of efforts — a rally from the shock that overpowers resistance. In despite of the surprize, the broken rank, and the overbearing torrent of enemies, they stood sternly to their arms, and made fight until the impetus of their foes began to waste itself away. The skill of their leaders was thus brought into action, and the enemy were fairly caught in their own device. Commanding 500 FLORENCE M'CARTHY. lieutenant Lane to lie down in an old ditch behind them, with a strong company of musketeers, captain Flower directed a retreat. The enemy led by Carbery O'Conor, confidently pressed in their rear, until he came on the line of the flank fire from Lane's party, when a volley from the ditch arrested their advance, and slew their leader with many other officers as well as soldiers. Sudden amazement suspended their steps, and while they hesitated the battle was lost. A charg-e from the English horse, at this critical moment, scattered them like chaff, and in a moment the party they had been pursuing was in the midst of them, slaughtering right and left without resistance: 98 fell on the spot, and niultitudes went off with mortal wounds. M'Carthy, not long after, entered into a treaty with Carew. There was at the time a favourable disposition towards him among the English lords ; but the president of Munster was still more actuated by the state of the country, in his desire to draw M'Carthy from the rebels. It was to be apprehended that the English force, which was far below the demand of the occasion, must otherwise require to be further weakened by the division and extension of its operations which a war with this chief would render necessary; nor was the infirmity of purpose or the uncertainty of conduct, which soon appeared to neutralize his hostility, yet fully understood. A conference was there- fore appointed, to which M'Carthy came, was reproved in the severe manner of Carew, pardoned, and swore allegiance and future obe- dience and duty on his knees. In his account of this scene, the writer of the Pacata Hihernia mentions, " These speeches being finished, the president bade him to stand up, when as both he and the earl of Thomond, Sir Nicholas Welsh, and John Fitz-Edmund, did every one of them very feelingly preach obedience to him." After this pretty schooling, M'Carthy made an eloquent answer, in which he probably showed himself a better orator at least than his advisers, using such general terms as to pledge him to nothing, while he delivered himself with so much appearance of warmth and good feeling, that even Carew could not help thinking him a very loyal man. After a re]3etition of the same comic drama on the following- day, he was desired to send his eldest son as a pledge. At this critical demand his speciousness was a little shaken aside. He pleaded the difficulties in which such a pledge must involve him, as he would thus be deprived of the power of keeping appearances with Desmond and his own people ; " adding, moreover, that it was needless in them to exact any such thing at his hands, who was in his soule so wholly addicted and devoted to her majestie's service."* These absurd subterfuges were necessarilv inef- fectual. Other conditions were next proposed by M'Carthy and re- jected; and the conference ended in a promise to preserve a strict neutrality, and that he would from time to time send intelligence of the rebels' proceedings to the president, and " doe him the best under- hand service he possibly could." It is needless to observe that such a promise, whether sincere or insincere, equally betrays the unprincipled character of this unworthy descendant of an illustrious race. With this promise Carew was satisfied, for he only desired to keep him * Pac. Hib. FLORENCE M'CAETHY. 501 quiet for a time, until the war with Desmond should be brought to an end. Afterwards, when the army of the sugan earl was dispersed and himself a fugitive in Kerry, M'Carthy followed the example of others; and having through the war contrived to amuse both parties and keep himself out of danger's way, he came to the president's camp, " in the midst of his troope, (like the great Turke among his janissaries,) drew towards the house like Saul, higher by the head and shoulders than any of his followers." He was courteously received by the lord-pre- sident, and gave pledges, which he desired to have received for the O'Siillivans, the O'Donoghues, the O'Crowlies, and O'Mahon Carbery. This was of course rejected; Carew wished to cut the links between him and these dependent chiefs, and intended to compel them to put in hostages for themselves. At this period it was that a violent and deadly feud took place among the McCarthys of Muskerry and Carbery, in which some leadino" persons were slain. The lord of Muskerry, grieved at the slaughter of the O'Learies his followers, applied to the council for leave to make war on Carbery; but the application was not acceded to. We already have had occasion to exemnlity and illustrate the con- duct and character of Florence MCarthy in our memoir of the Sugan earl. The correspondence which was intercepted exposes the weakness and duplicity of his character by the testimony of his own hand. It is therefore unnecessary to glean further the scanty materials before us. We have already mentioned his fate; he was in the end sent a captive into England, thus meeting the reward of a course of conduct Avhich rendered him an object of distrust. We have only to add a remark which has often pressed itself upon us in the course of this work. The conduct of every distinguished person who figures in the political proceedings of the period of which we have been writing, indicates so very loose and defective a system of political morality, that when we have been by any cliance led to take an unfavourable view of any person of illustrious name and descent, we have ever done so with some consciousness of a disagreeable nature, and an indication to recoil, like fear in Collins' ode, " even from the sound itself hath made." We have felt the Injustice of making any one an unhappy example of the sins of all. The best and wisest men who came forward on that tragic stage, seem to have been Ignorant of the higher principles of truth, honour, and justice, which the meanest and basest who seek mob-favour in our own day think it essential to swear by. And again, when we look on the practice of our own refined age, and see many who are honourable gentlemen, and most estimable In every relation of private life, so false, hollow, and perjured In their public capacities, we are inclined to the chari- table conclusion, that there Is something In the game itself which none but the very noblest hearts and heads can resist ; and that there Is some arcanum In state afiairs, whi,ch causes a temporary transforma- tion, so that the same person may be a man of honour In the hall and field, while he is a knave malgre soi on the hustings and In the senate. We have therefore assuredly no right to affect a stern elevation of public principle, when we look back on the ways of persons whom we 502 COEMACK M'CAETHY, LOED OF MD&KEEEY. call unenlightened, because they did not play their g-ame as knowingly as the gamesters of our own day, who have the wisdom to know that they are wrong, and the hardihood to act in defiance of the principles to which they pretend. Florence M'Carthy deceived, with all the dignity of virtue, because he thought it all fair ; and Sir G. Carew did not know much better. The president thought it not amiss to bargain with those who sought his favour, to murder one another; it may be said perhaps that he knew his men; but the person who employed them for such purposes, must have forgotten the spirit of the proud chivalry of England in the very day of Sidney. With this weak apology we must take our leave of M'Carthy: he lived in an evil day, and defended himself by the only weapon of which prudence wai-ranted the use by an Irish chief. And if it can be truly asserted that the only alternative was submission, we are inclined to suspect that the mind of his own time may rather have applauded his persevering spirit, than condemned the hollow mancEuvring- by which he persevered. Unhappily history, with all its boasted impartiality, can hardly try its great delinquents by their peers. We cannot guess from their public statements and letters what would Fitz- William say — what would Perrot say — what would Carew say; but must look to their policy and their acts, and with one Avho knew something of men, denounce the great " uuwhipped of justice." CORMACK M'CARTHY, LORD OF MUSKERRY, FLOURISHED A. D. 1601. During the events which we have largely detailed in several of our preceding memoirs, there appear occasional glimpses of persons whose names have obtained notice in Irish history, but whose part in the events of their generation was but sufficient to give thein a doubtful title to present notice. Among these was Cormack M'Der- mond M'Carthy, lord of Muskerry, a branch of the same illustrious parent stem from whicli was also descended the subject of our last pre- vious memoir. We shall here briefly relate such passages of his life as have suffi- cient interest to demand a passing notice. Before the lord-deputy ^lountjoy marched to the siege of Kinsale, orders had been issued by Sir G. Carew, to the cities and towns of Mimster, to send their contingents of force to join the queen's army; and the Irish chiefs who were at the time understood to be loyally affected, were generally apprized that they were expected in like man- ner to prove their profession by their actions. Among the chief of those who came forward on the occasion, was the lord of Muskerry. He was immediately employed by lord Mountjoy to make an attack on the Spanish trenches, in order to let them see that the English were sup- ported in the war by the principal Irish lords. The Irish made a stout assault, but were repelled ; but the lord-deputy was prepared for this, and the attack was followed up by one from his own troop of horse, which drove the Spaniards from the position which they had begun to entrench. CORMACK M'CARTHY, LORD OF MUSKERRY. 503 Not long after, a near relative of his, Feagne M'Cormack M'Cartliv, with whom he had been for some time at variance on a question of property, had been induced to desert fi-om the lord-president's troop; but finding the rebel cause unprosperous, he sought a reconciliation by oftering information of the private correspondence between the lord of Muskerry and the Spaniards. He excused his desertion on the ground that it was not " malicious," " but in the hope to recover against my cosen IM'Dermody, some means to maintain my decayed estate, and still likely to be suppressed by his greatness, who will by no means give me a portion of land to live upon." His excuse was considered insufficient by Carew, to whom his letter was addressed, and he was given to understand that his reconciliation was only to be lookedforby somesignal service. On which, having sought andobtained a safe conduct, he came to the president and gave him information that the lord of MuskeiTy was carrying on a private negotiation with the Spaniards ; that he received letters from the king of Sjiain, and from some foreign bishop; that he had held a secret conference with the rebel Owen MacEggan, who had given him 800 ducats, for which he had agreed to yield Blarney castle, his chief castle, within two miles of Cork, into the hands of the Spanish. The information tallied but too well with several other informations and grounds of suspicion. The lord-president immediately gave order to the judge of session, for the apprehension and commitment to prison of M'Carthv, and at the same time sent Sir Charles Wilmot and captain Harvie to obtain possession of Blai'ney castle. This castle is described as being at the time one of the strongest in that part of Ireland, as it consisted of four piles of building contained within one strong wall of eighteen feet in thickness, and built upon a rock, which made it alike proof against the mine and battery. The president therefore directed that they should proceed by stratagem, and try to gain admission on the pretext of buck-hunting in the neighbourhood. But the warders were on their guard, and the stratagem failed. The prisoner was soon after brought up for trial; and as he pleaded his innocence, it was proposed to him to maintain his plea, by g-iving up his castles to be held by the queen, on the condition that they should be safely returned when his innocence should be confix-med by the failure of the proof against him. M'Carthy consented, and his castles of Blarney and Kilcrea were on these conditions placed in the lord-president's hands. An army was at the same time sent against INIacroome, as it lay in the very wildest and most dangerous part of Muskerry, and was not likely to be surrendered on the order of M'Carthy. While these transactions were in their course, the lord-president re- ceived secret intimation that contrivances were going on for the escape of his prisoner. He likewise was informed, that O'Healy, a servant of M'Carthy, was prepared to embark for England, to steal away young M'Carthy from the University of Oxford, and take him into Spain. O'Healy was allowed to embark, and then suddenly seized, but con- trived to throw his letters into the sea, so that nothing against his master was thus elicited. The president in the meantime was warned by the bishop of Cork, and by Sarsfield, the queen's attornev for f)Oi SIR GEORGE CAREW. Minister, who had severally received information of the meditated escape; and on each occasion, Hammon, the gaoler of M'Carthy, was impressively lectured on the importance of his charge. All precautions turned out to bo in vain. Two days did not elapse when M'Carthy's servant, Owen O'Synn, contrived to loosen and break "the sash of a window that looked out into the street. The night was very dark, and few were abroad but those of M'Carthy's own people who had been apprized that the attempt was then to be made, and were watching for him outside. When all was ready, and the hour was judged to be dark and lonely enough for their security, M'Carthy stripped off his clothes, Avhich might easily be recognised, and crept out of the window into the street. In this moment, an accident had nearly disconcerted his attempt: a young woman was passing up the street, and seeing a person in his shirt escaping from the prison window, she instantly raised a cry of alarm. The keepers within leaped up at once, and rushed straight to the prisoner's room, and finding it deserted and tlie window open, they bolted forth and began a search along the street and surrounding country; but the measures of the fugitive had been too well contrived, and they returned without their errand. On the 21st October, 1602, IM'Carthy came before the president and council, and humbly besought the queen's mercy, acknowledging his offences, and only pleading the loyalty of his affections toward her majesty. He was then pardoned in consideration of the severe losses he had sus- tained, both by the burning of his castle and the destruction of the harvest of Muskerry that autumn by the queen's army and the rebels, of which the- loss was computed to be £5,000 at the least. SIR GEORGE CAREW. BOEN A. D. 1557. — DIED A. D. 1629. Op the personal history of this great man little can be satisfactorily ascertained; the main events of his life belong to history, and have been already detailed mider several heads. His family was early settled in Ireland. On the death of Robert Fitz-Stephen, the kingdom of Cork descended by marriage to the Carews and De Courcys.* The Carews were ennobled, and handed down their possessions with the dignity of Marquis of Cork till the time of the wars of the Roses in England, when they appear to have abandoned their Irish possessions, which were soon usurped by the surrounding- chiefs, with some inconsiderable exceptions. They built the castles of Ardtullagli, Dunkeran, and Dunemarc ; the last of which we find in the possession of Sir George Carew, while he commanded the queen's army as president of Munster." Sir George was the son of George Carew, dean of Christ's church, Oxford: he was born in 1557, and entered a gentleman commoner in Broadgate's Hall in Oxford univer- sity, in 1572. His first military services were in Ireland, where he * Cox. SIR GEOEGE CAREW. ''05 was early promoted, and became one of the council, and master of tiie ordnance. His uncle. Sir Peter Carew, a military officer, slain in 1580 at the pass of Glendalough, seems to have been the representative in Ireland of this ancient fomily. In 1582 we find him in I'elations with tlie followers of the chief O'Byrne, who commanded against the English on this occasion, showing his early acquaintance with the faithless char- acter of the natives, — a knowledge which he subsequently turned to account in his dealings with them.* In common with most of the eminent military characters of his day, he served with distinguished honour on the continent, and gained especial notice in the expedition against Cadiz. In the year 1599, there had been an increased activity on the part of the English government. The queen, alarmed by intelligence that the king of Spain, with whom she was at war, was preparing for the invasion of England, and that an army of 12,000 men Avas destined for Ireland, became seriously and justly alarmed for the safety of the latter. Under these impressions she had yielded to the specious persuasions of the earl of Essex: and, listening rather to partiality than to sound judgment, she sent him over to mismanage the aflfairs of a nation where prudence, caution, moderation, and sound discretion, as well as firmness and sagacity, were indispensably required. At the time the actual state of the Irish cliiefs was this : — The earl of Tyrone, who was in reality at the head of the insurrection, occupied the north with a well-disciplined and appointed army of six thousand men, while O'Donell, with an army not inferior in arms and training, was prepared to main- tain the war in Connaught. Both were aided by many chiefs, of whom some were not much less formidable than themselves; while those who opposed them, and took part with the English, were chiefs of far less power and influence, who were mostly maintained in their authority and possessions by the protection of the government. There was at the time a general impression in favour of the insurgents, their cause and prospects, which Avas a main source of their strength. It was knovv'n to what an extent the Irish soldiery had profited by the lessons of their enemies. There was a universal reliance on Spain, and the rebellion had assumed a serious character. The brief but misguided career of errors which Essex ran soon led to a change of administration. In the latter end of 1599 Lord Mountjoy was sent over as deputy, and Sir George Carew, the subject of this notice, as president of Munster, and early in the following year advantages were gained by these able commanders which struck misgiving and dismay through the hearts of the national leaders. While Mountjoy directed the operations in the north, Sir George Carew in person engaged in the re-conquest of the south. His mas- terly and successful campaign against the Sugan earl, the head of the southern Geraldines, has been detailed in the life of this last of the Desmonds. f Its termination, with the capture and conviction of the oarl in May, 1601, left the president with one enemy the less, when the great invasion of the Spanish forces, imperfectly carried out, called * Pac;e 510. f Page 452. 506 SIR GEOEGE CAREW. liim to aid Lord Mountjoy in expelling them from Kinsale, and at same time defending themselves from the powerful Irish army under the earl of Tyrone. Tlie manner in which this was done is detailed in the life of that great rebel.* After the capitulation of the Spanish general, Sir George Carew had to deal with the chief of the O'SuUivans, whose strong castle of Dunboy, having been garrisoned by them, was ceded with the other places, was resolved to regain it, and succeeding by stratagem, broke out into re- bellion. The reduction of this stronghold, under circumstances the most discouraging and perilous, was the most remarkable event in this eventful period, and is fully narrated in the memoir of that chief. f This was the closing event in the great rebellion of Tyrone, who there- upon made an entire and humble submission. After these memorable achievements Sir George Carew returned to England, where in the first year of King James, he was appointed to the government of Guernsey, and two years after, raised to the peerage by the title of Baron Carew of Clopton, near Stratford-upon- Avon in Warwickshire. He was next preferred to the high post of master of tlie ordnance in England, and appointed one of the privy council. He was afterwards created earl of Totnes by Charles I.,'| His subsequent life was chiefly employed in writing the history of those events of which, in the earlier period, he had been the witness or principal actor. Among these writings, the most important and the best known is the " Pacata Hibernia," which gives the most full and minute detail of the Munster and Ulster wars above mentioned. To this work we have been chiefly indebted for our details of these trans- actions. It is mentioned by Bishop Nicholson, that he wrote other works on the affairs of Ireland, " whereof forty-two volumes are in the archbishop of Canterbury's library at Lambeth, and four volumes more of collections, from the originals in the Cotton library." § These, with several other MS. volumes, all of which were read through and noted by Archbishop Usher, exhibit in a very strong and interesting point of view, the intellectual activity and untiring energy and industry of this extraordinary man. A folio edition of the Pacata Hibernia, ])ublished in 1633, contained his jjicture, under which these lines were written: — "Talis erat vultu, sed lingiia, mente manuque Quali.s crat, qui vult dicere, scripta legat Consulat aut famam, qui lingua, mente, manuque Viucere liunc, famajudice, rarus erat." Sir George Carew died in 1629, " in the Savoy,"|| and left no heir male. His only daughter married Sir Allen Apsley. ^ * Page 511. t Page 485. J Nicholson's Irish Hist. Library. § Page 53. 11 Nicholson. IF Walpole's Letters. Note, vol. i. p. 157. FEAGH MACHUGH O'BYENE. 501 FEAGH MACHUGH O'BYRNE. SLAIN A. D. 1597. Amongst the multitude of lesser chiefs who may be said to have taken part in the tumultuous proceedings of Ireland in the 16th cen- tury, we can select but a few. Of these Feagh MacHugh is entitled to notice, by reason of the persevering energy Avhich gives prominence to his character — the territorial position whieli rendered his motions important to the inhabitants of Dublin and the surrounding lands of the English pale, but most of all for tlie dark interest which connects itself with the memory of one event; to which, the rest being compara- tively of little interest, we shall pass as briefly as Ave can. The country of the O'Byrnes, in an ancient map, lately published by the State Paper Committee, is marked in that part of the county of Wick- low, east of the river Avon, which runs from Lough-Dan to Arklow. The O'Byrnes and O'Tooles, always mentioned together as belonging to the same sept, occupied this region of the Wicklow mountains. Spenser, who collected his account from the people themselves, and improved his knowledg-e by extensive study of such documents as were to be then had, affirms their descent from the ancient Britons, and observes that this descent is evidenced by their names, as Biin signi- fies woody, and Tool hilly, in the ancient British. It is not improba- ble, that a hardy race had, at an early period, when di'iven from their native woods in Britain, taken possession of a district which, considering- its coldness, dampness, and barrenness, Avas little likely to be disputed with them. Amid this Avild district, these septs spread and built many castles, of which the ruins were abundant in the 16th cen- tury. They were subjects to the MacMurroughs ; but after the Eng- lish settlement, when by the subjection of Leinster to the English, they were set free from the strong control of the paramount lord, thev began by degrees to assume independence, and to make themselves very conspicuous by inroads to which their near propinquity to the pale, and the difficulty of access into their steep and marshy fast- nesses, rendered resistance or retaliation difficult and dangerous. Spenser mentions, we should presume on the authority of the Byrnes of MacHugh's own time, that Shane MacTirlogh, the grandfather of Feagh MacHugh, " Avas a man of meanest regard among them [the O'Byrnes] neither having Avealth nor power! But his father, Hugh Mac Shane, first began to lift up his head, and through the strength and great fastness of Glanmalur, which adjoineth to his house of Ballinacor, drew unto him many thieves and outlaws, AAhich flew unto the succour of that glen as to a sanctuary, and brought unto him part of the spoil of all the country, through which he grcAv strong, and in short space got tmto himself a great name, thereby, among the Irish."* Such is the account given by Spenser; and, if there is any strength in the testimony of position, this account is well attested by the rude and cliffy chains of steep hills AA'hich run parallel to each other * Spenser's View. 508 FEAGH MACHUGH O'BYENE. at a quarter of a mile distance aloug" the narrow vale, through which the Avon runs in a south-easterly direction towards Ballinacor. It was one of the three passes by which the surrounding- mountain- country could be entered; and was, so late as the rebellion of 1798, a formidable pass, and the scene of many bloody deeds, when a military road was made through the glen, and a barrack built at DrumgofF. In this well-known fastness of rebellion, Byrne held a position of power which, in the great struggle then fast rising to its height, gave him personal importance among the surrounding opponents of the English. The Kavanaghs, the O'Mores, and the Butlers, swelled his wealth and force, and drew protection from his mountains and ramparts and forest coverts. Some miles north, near Annamoe, and a little to the east of Glendalough, stood castle Kevin, the sti'ong- hold of the chief of his allied and kindred clan the O'Tooles. From this place of strength, Feagh MacHugh made himself so formidable to the English governor, that it became at length an object of urgent necessity to expel him, and obtain possession of a place of such importance to the security of the pale. In the year 1580, lord Grey de Wilton was sent over with instruc- tions such as were not uncalled-for by the state of the country. In England there prevailed the utmost ignorance of the real difficulties which prolonged an interminable strife between foes whose utter dis- parity in all by which civilized nations are accustomed to estimate power, made the unsatisfactory and uncertain war seem quite unac- countable. In their ignorance of the real character of this warfare, conjecture but too often supplied accusations against the deputies and lords-lieutenant, whose seeming remissness allowed a barbarous,' imtrained, and almost naked enemy, to keep the field against a British army. Thus lord Grey was ignorant alike of the affairs of the country, and of the difficulties he should have to encounter. Looking no further than the prepossessions and prejudices of the English court, and rudely estimating the defensive resources of the Irish chiefs by the known inferiority of their armies in the field, he could conceive no reason for the failure of the queen's former deputies in reducing the country to tranquillity, but the absence of a sufficient promptness and deter- mination to sweep all opposition from the field by force of arms. Thinking too lowly of the claims of the Irish chiefs to consideration, and neglecting to consider that amongst the causes of their disaff'ection, there were some just grounds of complaint, and many wise reasons for tempering force (for this was still the main desideratum) with con- ciliatory moderation, he resolved to bear down all resistance by unhesi- tating and unrepressed exertions of military strength. An occasion but too soon occurred to let him into the secret of Irish resistance. Shortly after his landing in Dublin, he received intelligence that captain Fitz-Gerald, an officer of a company in the queen's pay, had revolted with lord Baltinglas, and joined Feagh MacHugh, and that they were encamped within twenty-five miles of Dublin, and daily increasing in numbers. Grey Avas naturally enough indignant that the power of queen Elizabeth should be held in defiance within so short a distance of the seat of government ; and, without delay, ordered oiF such forces as could be brought together to attar-k them. The FEAGH MACHUGH O'BYRNE. 509 veterans who received these orders were fully aware of the dangerous and difficult nature of the service on which they were sent. They knew that the enemy they were peremptorily commanded to rout, was secure in the same impenetrable fastnesses which had already for nearly 400 years enabled them to hang over the pale like a thunder cloud, ever ready to scatter waste and devastation from its unassail- able position and desultory explosion; and that to encounter a strong force, in positions so peculiarly framed for their mode both of attack and retreat, and so unsuited to the tactics of the English, must be attended with the utmost risk. When they arrived at the pass into the valley of Glendalough, the danger became more apparent; and here it is said that captain Cosby, a veteran officer of considerable experience in the wars of Ireland, remonstrated with lord Grey. The remon- strance must appear to have been needless to any one who is aware of the nature of the ground. A long, winding, and deep marsh termi- nating in lakes, and thickly masked with copse and stunted forest, which has since disappeared, ran between two ranges of wild precipitous mountains, which overhung it with their projecting sides, or here and there retreated in secret and shaded outlets, so as to present the most complete model of an ambuscade contrived by nature. In this position, which a little military knowledge might have seen to be inaccessible, an invisible enemy was prepared to i-eceive them. Cosby's remon- strance was disregarded ; and it now seems like infatuation that no pre- caution appears to have been taken to ascertain the position of the enemy, or the securest mode and points of attack. Lord Grey stood on a neighbouring height, and ordered his troops to march, into the valley ; and it is nearly certain, that the leaders and foremost companies of that gallant and devoted band, as they enter- ed the still and ominous hollows of the swampy vale, knew that they were not to return. All Avas for some time still; and lord Grey, from the hill on which he stood, saw his veterans tread on un- obstructed into the dangerous maze: he probably thought that the enemy whom he held in ignorant contempt, had sculked away from tlie approach of the queen's representative and his army. His error was not of long duration ; scarcely was the last of the English column secure within the fatal defile, when wood, and craggy cavern, and all the dark steeps above its marshy and tangled hollows echoed with a yell of deadly defiance. It was followed by the roar of musketry, which poured thick, incessant, and unreturned from the enclosing- heights on every side. There was no battle, for there was no resist- ance. Every thicket, and each projecting steep, as the devoted victims of Grey's precipitation came within its range, sent forth its vollied thunder, and poured its deadly shower upon the defenceless victims. Discipline and valour were impotent, and retreat as dangerous as advance. Some, desiring at least to grapple with a foe, attempted to rush up the steeps : these, however, were only pervious to an accurate local experience: they who thus attempted, soon came to some fatal stop, and were butchered in detail. Others became more deeply entangled in the morass, and presented sure marks for the ambushed foe, who took them down with cool deliberation from the nearest heights. Lord Grey perceived his error when it was too late; his men could not be extricated from a position so fatal ; the soldiers were slain in lieaj^s as their efforts, either to find an enemy or to effect their escape, chanced to throw them into parties. The most active of the officers fell in the vain attempt to extricate their men. Captains Dudley, Moore, and Sir Peter Carew, were among- Ihe slain. The next noticeable trace we find of Feagh MacHugh occurs about two years later. The tale is curious enough, but not very dis- tinct. It is first mentioned that one of the Byrnes offered captain George Carew to bring- him the head of his leader Fitz-Gerald, already mentioned as an ally of MacHugh's. Before Byrne could effect his traitorous purpose, he was himself hanged by Fitz-Gerald, who received some intimation of what was going on ; but immediately after, alarm- ed at the summary justice he had executed, or as we should suspect, himself tempted by some report of the reward to be received by his own murderer, he made overtures to Carew, for the delivery of the much more valuable head of Feagh MacHugh, He was, however, caught in the same trap with Byrne; Feagh was informed of the intended favour, and hanged Fitz-Gerald ; or as Cox tells the story, " faii-ly hanged his friend Fitz-Gerald in his stead." In 1584, he seems to have found the expediency c f entering into amicable terms with the government, or was led by the wise and equitable character of Sir John Perrot, and the general tranquillity which made its transient appearance, to deliver pledges for his conduct. During the following ten years he is not very distinctly to be traced; but it is quite sufficiently apparent, that he continued through that interval to be as troublesome to the inhabitants of the Wicklow side of the pale as his force and safety admitted. In 1594, we read of an order of council ordering the lord-deputy on some important service, in which a provision is made for the defence of the pale against Feagh MacHugh, during his absence. At this time the Irish rebellions, for a time partially extinguished, had begun to increase, and assume a charac- ter of method, concert, and military discipline, till then unknown. The celebrated Red Hugh O'Donell, whom a few years before O'Byrne had succoured in his flight from Dublin castle, and entertained at his castle of Ballinacor, was sweeping like a torrent over the western counties; and the emissaries of Spain and Rome were with secret influence awakening and combining the scattered fires that Avere so soon to burst forth under the command of that able and powerful leader, Hugh, earl of Tyrone. In the beginning of 1595, the lord- deputy entered MacHugh's own territory, and, driving him and his people into the Glenmalur, took possession of Ballinacor, in which he placed a garrison. In the same year Feagh came into Dublin castle, and made his submission on his knees, on which he re- ceived the queen's pardon; nevertheless, while under solemn engage- ments, and having a protection, he continued to correspond with the northern rebels, and watching his opportunity, surprised and took Ballinacor, which he razed to the foundation. On this the lord-deputy marched into Wicklow, and encamped for a few davs at Rathdrum, where he took several preys of cattle and many prison- ers. It was probably his expectation, that MacHugh would have come into terms; but finding this hope vain, he ended by hanging two of HUGH, EARL OF TYRONE. 511 his pledges — a proceeding which surely stamps the barbarity of the time, yet which was nevertheless difficult to be evaded. Without such a severe equity, the system of pledges, the firmest security of the period, must have been absolutely null, and more valuable interests, both in life and property, must have been sacrificed to the absolute want of any security. The pursuit of MacHugh, was pleaded as an injury, and as an excuse for rebellion, by Tyrone. At the close of 1596, Feagli was brought to an action by captain Lea, and defeated with a loss of upwards of 80 men ; and in a few months after. May 1597, the lord-deputy again overtook him with a strong party, when he was slain in the skirmish which took place. THE LAST OF THE O'NIALLS OF TIP. OWEN. HUGH O'NEALE, earl OF TYRONE. Con O'NfALL, commonly called Con Mor, had two sons. Con Boccagh, the first earl of Tyrone, and_ Tirlogh Lynnogh, whoso name frequently occurs in the history of the time. Con Boccagh was the father of Shane O'Neale and others, his legitimate sons, and of Matthew who was admitted to be illegitimate, and was further affirmed to be by another father of the name of O'Kelly, a smith, whose son he was pub- licly reputed to be until his fifteenth year, when by a disclosure of his mother's, the old earl was led to believe him to be his own. This per- son was set up by the earl as his successor, and created baron of Dun- gannon by queen Elizabeth. He was slain by the followers of Shane O'Neale, and left three sons, of whom the second was Hugh, the per- son here to be commemorated. On the death of Shane O'Neale, his uncle Tii'logh Lynnogh was, by the law of tanistry, entitled to become the O'Neale, which title he accordingly assumed; but by the law of English descent, and by the disposition of King Henry, Hugh was the immediate successor of his father Matthew, and entitled to the earldom of Tyrone. He was brought up in England, and early received employment in the queen's service, in which lie repeatedly distinguished himself, espe- cially in the wars against Gerald the sixteenth earl of Desmond, in which he had the command of a troop of horse. At this time his re- putation stood high with every party; wliile his valour and military talent recommended him to the English, the other party, accustomed to temporizing submissions, put the most indulgent construction on his adhesion to their enemies. Moryson describes his person and character with the authority of a contemporary and an eye-witness: — " He was of mean stature, but of a strong body, as able to endure watchings, labour, hard fare; being withal industrious and active, valiant, afflible, and apt to manage great affairs, and of a high dissem- bling subtile and profound wit." An important change was then working in the stormy elements of Trisli contention. The wave of the reformation had flowed in, and the resistance of the Roman see gave new force, bitterness, and unity to the strife of four centuries. The enmity of Philip the Second, king of Spain, added its portion of fuel to the same flame. Ireland was too obviously the assailable side of the queen's dominions to be neglected, and the Irish chiefs were long cajoled by great promises and small aids, which were yet enough to give the excitement of hope to their ambition and hate. Still Hugh O'Neale was looked on with an invidious eye by many of the chiefs. It was felt that he was an intruder on the territorial posses- sions of Tyrone; his father's illegitimacy ; and a still deeper disquali- fication, more than suspected, caused him to be slighted by some. His adherence to the English government excited the dislike of many, and a grasping and tyrannical disposition not peculiar to him, raised numer- ous enemies. To these O'Neale turned a front of subtile and profound dissimulation, which ended like all indirect courses in determining hi:3 course to the baser side. While he professed, and we believe truly, his attachment to the queen, he was compelled to dissemble with his fellow-countrymen. This conduct, which Irish authorities place beyond doubt, led in two ways to the determination of his conduct: it sup- plied in no small abundance material for misrepresentation, betraying him from time to time into positions of an equivocal nature ; and it placed him under the occasional necessity of committing himself by acting in his assumed character. He was as yet little affected by these embarrassments of position, when in 1587 he petitioned the parliament, then sitting in Dublin under Sir John Perrot, that he might be allowed to take the title and possessions of Tyrone. The rank and title were conceded, but for the possessions he was told that the question must depend on the queen'3 pleasure, on which he applied for Sir John's recommendatory letters to the queen, and represented that a large rent might be reserved to the crown, with his free consent. Perrot was reluctant,* but at the pressing entreaty of his Irish friends, gave him the required letters. Thus authorized, he straightway repaired to England to plead for him- self, and put the best face on his own pretensions. O'Neale's addj-ess and practised suppleness eminently fitted him for such an occasion, and in Elizabeth he had a fair object for the exercise of such qualities. She received him graciously as an old acquaintance, and suffered herself to be pleased by his wily admiration, and the well-assumed simplicity which did not prevent his exhibiting his claims and enforcing their expediency, with all the dexterity of a sagacious statesman. He warmly expressed his regret at the slowness of his countrymen to receive the improvement of English manners and laws ; was parti- cularly earnest and pathetic in his representation of the afflictions of Tyrone ; and with much force of argument, convinced the queen, that nothing could proceed rightly until she had put down the barbarous title of O'Neale. On the strength of these arguments, he urged his personal pretensions, and so won upon the queen that she complied with his demands ; he thus obtained the princely inheritance of his * Ware. iUmily free from any reservation of rent. The conditions were few and easy. It was stipulated that the bounds of Tyrone should be accur- ately limited; that 240 acres, bordering on the Blackwater, should be ceded for an English fort ; that the earl should claim no authority over the surrounding chiefs of Ulster ; that the sons of Shane and of Tirlough* O'Neale should be provided for. Some writers add a strange stipulation : that old Tirlogh should still be continued the O'Neale or chief of the sept. This arrangement,though seemingly sub- versive of the main principle of the agreement, was in fact recommended by an obvious policy, as no great mischief was to be apprehended from Tirlogh, who besides his age, was without the means of any extensive disturbance, and he was thus made to occupy that position in which the ambition of the powerful earl might become dangerous. Sir John Perrot was very much offended by this arrangement and by the mode of its completion. The patent he felt should have been drawn by his own authority, and the conditions arranged with his privity and consent. He felt the slight, and disap^iroved of the re- mission of the heavy rent which he supposed himself to have secured. Notwithstanding this discontent, when the earl came over to Dublin, he was received with all courtesy by Sir John. He then proceeded to Tyrone, and easily prevailed on Tirlogh to give up a territorial claim which he could by no possibility reduce to possession. O'Neale had not long been thus invested with the possession of his country, before the inauspicious chain of circumstances which we have described as the main causes of his ruin, had their commencement. Among the first was his quarrel with Tirlogh Lynnogh, and many other quarrels and discontents of the same nature, which arose between him and the surrounding chiefs and proprietors. Of these the im- mediate consequence was, a succession of com.plaints, which soon placed his conduct in a questionable point of view, and raised a host of watchful and acrimonious enemies who let nothing pass unobserved and unreported, that could injure him with government. On some quarrel between himself and Tirlogh Lynnogh, he made an incursion upon his property, and drove away two thousand cows ; and when ordered by the lord-deputy to restore them, instead of complying he took offence at the interposition, and made a second attack on his enemy at Strabane. Tirlogh Lynnogh was, however, supported by two com- panies of English soldiers, with which the deputy had prudently sup- plied him, immediately on receiving his complaint, and the earl was compelled to fly. It was at the same time that he had the impru- dence to allow himself to be led into an intercourse with the Scots, which, though not in all likelihood carried on with any disloyal purpose, was manifestly in a very high degree questionable. The temptations to assume the privileges of an independent chief, (to which he possessed no shadow of title,) were very considerable. Being in the place and posi- tion of the chief of Tyrone, he soon began to be recognised as such, by the surrounding chiefs ; they addressed him as a prince, the repre- sentative of that ancient house, and as an influential leader on whom _ * Shane's sons were Heniy, Con, and Tirlo-h. Tiilogli's son, Arlliur who served in the English army in the foUovvinj,^ relii'llion. 1- 2 K Ir. 514 HUGH, EAEL OF TYRONE. the hopes of his country were mainly fixed. These dangerous assump- tions were not easy to repel, and his pride concm'red with his fears to warp him towards a compliance not less unsafe. There were many reasons of a more cogent nature why he should aim to strengthen him- self against his numerous surrounding enemies, and thus a very narrow- sighted policy combined with other motives to lead him to enter into alliances, which could only be maintained by acts capable of receiving a criminal construction. It was in consequence of these circumstances, that in the year 1587, many questionable reports were transmitted to the lord-deputy; among which was that of a treasonable alliance with the Scots, by which he sent them aid in men, on the condition of receiving the same from them against his enemies. These errors in policy have since received from most historians the same unfavourable construc- tion, but we cannot help thinking, that in this there is a great neglect of allowance for human nature, and the spirit of the age. A more patient and therefore more distinct contemplation exhibits Tyrone carried on by a chain of controlling circumstances ; although it must be admitted, that if such be the unfavourable construction of many undoubtedly able writers, their very error seems to justify the severe constructions of those governors whose harshness assisted in precipi- tating the earl in his ill-advised course. The same constructions apply with still more force to a subsequent incident. In 1588, the Spanish Armada, so well known in English history, was dispersed by a storm and seventeen of the ships were wrecked on the Ulster coast. The prepossessions of the Irish in favour of the Spanish were strong, and had, of late years, been assiduously, though secretly, cultivated. The earl could not, without offending every prejudice of the surrounding- districts, notice them otherwise than as friends: it was in the spirit of his nation and character to show hospitality; and an obvious, though near-sighted reasoning, pointed out the future advantages which were likely to follow. The report of his favourable reception of the queen's enemies could not fail to be in a high degree prejudicial to the earl. Yet, so far as any fair inference was to be drawn from the general tenour of his con- duct, there was in all this little to support the extreme constructions to which he soon became subjected. To suppose that one, pretend- ing to the authority and dignity which at that period was ostensibly claimed by his ancient house, could at once altogether throw off the weight of ancient manners, prejudices, and obligations, the pri- vileges immemorially preserved, and all considerations by which he was bound by a thousand links of opinion and custom, with the whole of his Irish connexions, dependents, and friends, was, in point of fact, to assume the extinction of his whole nature ; and it is evident that any reasonable government, at whatever changes it aimed — and great changes were wanting' to make Ireland a civilized country — should have proceeded on the principle of much toleration, and used much caution to avoid driving consequences more rapidly than there were means provided to ensure success, on any ground equitable or inequitable. While, here too, on the other hand, it cannot fairly be denied, that a person of Tyrone's clear perceptions nuist have seen and contem- plated, as they arose, events and indications, which might soon render HUGH, EARL OF TYRONE. 515 it a course ot" necessity or safety to take a part against the English government. Tyrone neglected no means of increasing his own power and autho- rity. He was authorized by the queen, or rather bound by an explicit stinulation, to maintain six companies for the defence of Ulster; of this he availed himself for the increase of his military force, by changing the men in such a manner as to train his whole county to arms — an expedient which was afterwards made a subject of accusa- tion, but which, according to the view here taken, only affords a very gross instance of slackness in the government which permitted the growth of a power so thoroughly at variance with the whole of its I'ecognized policy. Under all these circumstances, the recall of Sir John Perrot was exceedingly unfortunate. In the want of a sufficient application of controlling force, the next best course was that of a moderate and con- ciliatory government; though, in that vicious state of civil existence, the latter course implied much connivance at abuse, and much tolera- tion of evil doing ; there was no other alternative. Sir John was mild, just, and as firm as good policy permitted; he had won the good- will of the native chiefs, and thus materially fostered a disposition to submit and to perceive the real advantages of the English laws. But violent and grasping spirits were offended at a moderation which restricted the field of confiscation and attainder, and the queen, who did not supply the requisite means, was discontented at the slow progress of Irish affairs: the general sense of those who were unacquainted with Irish policy was that more might be effected by greater energy, and more violent and sweeping measures. Under these and such impressions, Sir John was recalled, and the government committed to Sir William Fitz- William. Previous to his departure Sir John committed an act of injustice, which throws disgrace on his character, and which had the most per- nicious consequences. This was the seizure of Red Hugh O'Donell, and of the two sons of Shane O'Neale, by an act of treachery not to be mentioned without disgust. Although the historian of O'Donell, and subsequent writers, make it seem that the capture of O'Donell was the chief object of that most disgraceful expedition,* yet we think it obvious enough that its design was far more indiscriminate.-]- The possession of the O'Neales was thought to afford a useful curb over the proceedings of the earl, as, while they were alive, their claim could if necessary, be set up in opposition to him. This unjust and oppressive step was, however, not suflScient to repress the good-will generally w^on from the native Irish by the mild and equitable tenor of Perrot's administration, or to counterbalance the good effects it had produced. There was a disposition to peace, order, and submission to authority, which had been hitherto unprecedented ; the most powerful of the chiefs and noblemen were ready to come on the summons of the governor, and all sorts of provisions were plenty and cheap. Fitz- William's conduct w^as such as to unsettle the favourable disposi- tions of the country. The chief cause of every disaffected tendency was one which lay tacitly under a heap of pretended or fictitious * O'Donell's Life. f See Co>r. 516 HUGH, EARL OF TYRONE. grievances; the fear of oppression, and the insecurity of rights: the chiefs had long been taught to feel themselves insecure in their pos- sessions. Compared with this pervading sense, all other discontents were slight, being mostly in their nature local or personal. Rebel- lion demands a common cause, the only principle of popular union. Then indeed, as since, the moving principle has been ever something different, and wholly different, from the spurious convention which in- flames and rallies round a common standard the passions of the igno- rant and lawless multitude : and if there be any truth in this position, it is of material importance so to direct the remedial course as to meet the real evil, either by fair concession, or decisive and effectual resistance. It was the misfortune of the country that both were at the time re- quired, and both neglected. Fitz-William's first course of conduct was to awaken the reasonable fears of the Irish chiefs, both for their pro- perty and personal liberty. If the seizure of O'Donell, for which there was reasonable ground, though the artifice was base and revolt- ing, communicated a shock, the seizure of Mac Toole, Tyrone's father- in-law, and of O'Doherty, both persons of the most peaceable de- meanour and the highest reputation for loyalty, without the pretext of any accusation, or of the shadow even of state necessity, struck fire through the whole of Ulster. The pride and fear of every one who had any thing to lose, or any sense of self-respect, was offended by an action so unwarranted and arbitrary as to convey the dangerous sense that no person or property was safe from such a power used in such a spirit. In the year 1589, Fitz-William having received informa- tion that the Spaniards, who were the preceding year wrecked on the northern and western coasts, had left behind them much treasure, first endeavoured to secure it by a commission ; this failing, he travelled into the north at great expense in quest of the supposed riches. Irritated by not finding these, he seized the two gentlemen already named, on the report of their having a large part of them in their possession. The prisoners refusing to ransom themselves were imprisoned, and detained in captivity for a long time.* In the meantime, Hugh Na'Gaveloch, an illegitimate son of Shane O'Neale, brought information to Fitz- William that Tyrone had entered into a secret alliance with the Spaniards. Tyrone was not long in discovering the informer, whom he caused to be hanged. It is said that it was difficult to find one to hang- this offender on account of the name of O'Neale. This, with the other circumstance related, and the general impres- sion produced by all the various rumours in circulation to the preju- dice of Fitz-William's character and motives, alarmed Tyrone. He knew himself to be a fair and tempting object for suspicion and cupi- dity, and resolved to anticipate the accusations which he feared by a personal appeal to the favour and justice of the queen. He went over to England in May, 1590. Owing to this journey having been taken without the lord-deputy's permission, he was at first placed under arrest. On submission he was liberated, and had a satisfactory audience from the queen, after which he agreed to enter into bonds for the secu- ^ Moivson, HUGH, EAEL OF TYRONE. 517 rity of the pale, and to keep the peace witli Tirlog'h Lynnogh. He also agreed to put in pledges to be chosen by the lord-deputy, it being pro- vided that these pledges should not lie in the castle, but be committed to the keeping of some gentlemen within the pale, and that they might be exchanged every three months — a provision remarkable for its fairness and humanity ; but if looked on further, not less sagaciously adapted to the purpose of eluding the consequences of any violation of the terms on his part, or of the suspicions of government, which were at least as likely to occur. The articles of his former agree- ment were also, at the same time, confirmed by fresh engagements to the same effect. On his return to Dublin, he came before the council, and confirmed the articles which had been transmitted from England. He, never- theless, continued to defer their fulfilment, excusing- himself by letters to the English and Irish councils, in which he entreated that Tirlogh Lynnogh, and other neighbouring lords, should be rendered subject to the same engagements. In the same year occurred the most unjust and impolitic execution of the chief of Monaghan, MacMahon, upon no ostensible plea of justice, and for which the only appearance of excuse was the false asseveration that the whole country seemed glad of his execution. The actual charge was as absurdly made, as the whole proceeding Avas treacherous and undignified; and the effect was a very violent aggra- vation of the discontents of Ulster. The story is worth telling. Some time before MacMahon had surrendered his property, which he held under tanistry, and received it in English tenure by a grant under the broad seal, in which the inheritance was limited to himself and his heirs male, and in failure of these to his brother, Hugh Roe Mac- Mahon. In the year 1590, MacMahon died without heirs of his body, and the succession was claimed by his brother according to the patent. He was first put off on the excuse of a certain fee of six hundred cows, for, according to Moryson, " such and no other were the Irish bribes." He was then seized and imprisoned, but after a few days re- leased, with a promise that the lord-deputy would himself go and settle him in the county of Monaghan. Accordingly, in a few days, Fitz- William made a journey to that country with MacMahon in his company. Immediately, however, on their arrival MacMahon was seized, shut up in his own house, tried by a jury composed of soldiers and Irish kernes, which latter were shut up and denied all food until they found him guilty of a pretended misdemeanour, for which he was at once executed. His countx'y was then divided among several per- sons, both English and Irish, all of whom, it was alleged, and may fairly be presumed, paid well for their shares. The whole of these facts, if truly stated, place beyond doubt that the design was precon- ceived and planned by the deputy, and that the journey was a con- trivance to get the victim entirely into his own hands, by a removal from the constraint of the civil authorities before whom he should otherwise have been tried, and who would have treated as vexatious the charge that this person, two years before, had entered a neigh- bouring district, and levied a distress for rent due to him. Consider- ing the general laxitv of construction which prevailed at the time, 518 HUCxH, EARL OF TYRONE. and the far more serious offences which were daily connived at or compromised — the arrest by a most fraudulent manoeuvre — the clandes- tine and illegal trial and execution, and the division of the spoil — it would be setting at naug-ht the ordinary laws of equitable construc- tion to deny that an aggravated outrage was thus committed against right. The whole of this iniquitous pi'oceeding was at once and universally understood. It struck at the root of all confidence — the wide-spread and deeply-seated elements of disaffection and hate were aggravated and apparently justified Ly a well-grounded distrust; and there were at the time active agents at work, by whom nothing was let fall inoperative that could awaken and concentrate hostility to the English. On the report of this execution, the chiefs of Ulster were not slow to express their sense by their language and actions. They showed the utmost unwillingness to admit any English sheriffs, or admit of any channel for the entrance of laws which they saw could thus easily be made the weapon of rapine and murder. These transactions, Avliatever may have been their influence in deter- mining the after-course of Tyrone, had the immediate effect of ren- dering his conduct cautious and watchful in an increased degree. He had a fray with his neighbour, Tirlogh Lynnogh, in which Tirlogh was wounded: Tyrone anticipated his complaint by a representation that the occurrence was caused by his neighbour's attempt to take a prey in his lands, from which he repelled him by force. He also, im- mediately after, permitted the county of Tyrone to be made shire ground. In July, 1591, the bounds of this county were defined by commissioners appointed for the purpose ; who divided it into eight baronies, and made Dungannon the shire town. One act of Tyrone, of which we only know the fact from its con- sequences, was perhaps more decisive of his fate than any other cause. It was that in the same year a complaint was preferred against him by Sir Henry Bagnal, for having carried off his sister and married her, his former wife being still alive. Tyrone defended himself by alleg- ing that the lady was taken away and married by her own consent, and that his former wife had been previously divorced. Amidst all these occasions of offence and fear, it is not improbable that a great change may have grown over the temper of the earl ; yet his overt conduct, at least, still manifested a disposition to adhere to the English government. In the English council also there was a disposition to trust him : the main occasions of his irregular proceed- ings were understood, or met with a favourable construction; his re- putation for sagacity also stood in his favour, for as his best interest lay in the shelter of the English government, he was allowed the credit of understanding this fact ; while every charge which had hitherto been advanced against him met with a fair excuse, many ser- vices of an vmquestionable nature ascertained his fidelity, or disarmed accusation of its pretext. Such, indeed, both in historical or political construction of the characters of public men, is the case which con- stantly recurs, and renders judgment difficult and fairness itself a risk. In their overt acts, fair appearances, honest motives, and universal jirinciples, are kept on the surface, however base, dangerous, or dis- honest, mav be the motives and designs of the actors. There can be no HUGH, EARL OF TYRONE. 519 course of public conduct maintained in the public eye, that is not capable of being defended upon the gx'ouud of principle ; while the more refined and less popular reasoning- by which the secret can be traced, depends on facts and assumptions which, though plain to all thinking persons, are not so capable of being substantiated to the coarse perception and prejudiced sense of the public mind — so gene- rally just in its practical maxims, and so inapt beyond them. Judging by his public acts, by his fair professions, or by a due allow- ance for the just sense of his own interests, it is to be inferred that the earl of Tyrone was still at this period of our narrative sincere in his professions of loyalty. But it is impossible to make these allowances, without also insisting upon some allowance of an opposite value, for other facts of which he must have been fully cognizant, and in no small degree influenced by. We are made aware, by several statements of a very authoritative nature, that he maintained an intimate under- standing with the Irish, who were at the same time entering into a most formidable conspiracy against the English pale. While the state of English aftairs seemed to be approaching to a steady and settled aspect of prosperity, a strong and dangerous uud."r- working had set in, which menaced the very existence of the pale. O'Donell, whose capture and well-grounded hate to the English go- vernment we have related, had escaped from his cruel, impolitic cap- tivity, and, after many romantic adventures, found refuge and friend- ship with Tyrone ; and from this moment the latter was in fact a consenting party to all the machinations of the insurg-ents. This consent may be affirmed to have been insincere, but cannot be reason- ably denied. If the defence be considered worth any thing, there is indeed ample ground for questioning his sincerity to either party; and it will, after all, be the best that can be said, that his deportment to either was the stern dictate of circumstance. It was the result of his position, that the contingencies belonging to whatever course he might take wore a formidable aspect; and his best excuse must be found in the conduct of the English government. The difficulties which pressed him on either side should have been allowed for; and while his conduct received the most indulgent construction, he should have been firmly upheld in the course which was imposed on him by his obligations to the queen's government. Instead of support and allowance, on the fair principle of recogniz- ing the difficulties of his position, these difficulties were soon indefinitely increased by a jealous scrutiny, which began to give the worst con- struction to every act, and the readiest reception to every whisper which breathed against him. It was unquestionably the duty of a vigilant administration to keep the most jealous eye on the conduct of one whose situation was exposed to so many varied impulses. But judicious watchfulness is not more vigilant to detect an indication, than cautious to avoid misconstruction; and it was, or ought to have been known, how much enmity and how much grasping cupidity were on the alert to hunt down so rich a victim as Tyrone. While, then, to sum the fact in a few words, Tyrone truly or insin- cerely asserted his loyalty to the queen, with the same respective de- gree of insincei-ity or truth, he asserted his adherence to the party of O'Donell, to whora he pleaded the necessity of preserving- appearances towards the English ; and under the operation of this most fatal position, the moment was fast approaching when he must of necessity have taken his choice, and when the indulgence of the English — for this too has its limits — would have been fatuity, not fairness. Such, then, is the ground which we desire to take, on a question upon which, we think, some able writers have taken a narrow and a partial view. As yet, however, it is manifest the public conduct of Tyrone en- titled him to be considered as a loyal British subject. In 1592, among other statements, he wrote to the English council that he had brought over O'Donell to the queen's allegiance, and " that he would persuade him to loyalty, and, in case he were obstinate, that he would serve against him as an enemy."* Another circumstance — one of the many which accumulated into the serious rebellion which followed — gave Tyrone an occasion to maintain his character of questionable loyalty. In the year 1593, M'Guire, chief of Fermanagh, began to take an active part in the gathering troubles of the north. He was, in common with all the surrounding chiefs of Ulster, alarmed and irritated by the exe- cution of MacMahon ; and the feeling was chiefly indicated by a reluctance to admit of an English sheriff within these territories. It is mentioned by Davis, that, when Fitz-William first intimated to ]\I'Guire his intention to send an English sheriff into Fermanagh, the chief replied, " Your sheriff shall be welcome ; but let me know his erie, that if my people cut off his head, I may levy it on the county." The sheriff was sent, with two hundred men to support him. And not long- after, he was, with his party, assailed by M'Guire, and driven to take refuge in a church, where they would have been exter- minated by fire, but for the timely interposition of the earl of Tyrone. The lord-deputy, on this, sent a party of soldiers into Fermanagh, who seized M'Guire's castle of Eniskillen ; the chief was proclaimed a traitor; and the lord-deputy let fall some threats against the earl of Tyrone, which soon found their way to his ear. These expressions, whatever was their import, were afterwards referred to by the earl as a justification of his subsequent conduct. From the time he was apprized of the deputy's language, he said that he began to consider his safety doubtful, and to make up his mind to join with O'Donell. Still he thoug-ht it necessary to preserve appearances ; and when JM'Guire, breaking into open rebellion, made an irruption into Con- naught, Tyrone joined his forces to the English and took an active part in the operations by which he was driven back. On this occasion he received a wound. But whatever were his intentions, nothing could now divert the course of the suspicion and enmity which watched and severely interpreted every thing he did. Though ready to comply with his avowed engagements, there was much to support a jealous view of all his conduct : he gave his daughter in marriage to O'Donell, and refused to deliver up the sons of Shane O'Neale, whom he had seized and cast into chains. In the month of August, 1594, Fitz-William was recalled, and Sir William Russell sent over in his room. The complaints against • Moryson. Tyrone had increased, and suspicion was growing fast into certainty, when he made his appearance in the metropolis, from which he had carefully absented himself during Fitz- William's government. The step was politic, but not without risk ; for the enemies of the earl were many and powerful, and (had enmity been wanting-) his conduct was open to suspicion. But, above all the whispers of suspicion, or the cautious doubts of guarded policy, the bitter animosity of Bagnal made itself heard. Bagnal earnestly urged that the earl's visit to the city was but an artifice to lull the suspicions excited by his long course of double dealing, entreated that he should be arrested, and offered to make good several articles of treason against him. The accusations of Bagnal had been repeatedly proffered, and comprised all the ques- tionable acts of the earl's past life, most of which we have mentioned in their order of occurrence. They were chiefly these : That he en- tertained Gauran, titular primate of Ireland, knowing him to be a traitor — this Gauran had been but recently slain in an encounter be- tween Bingham and M'Guire in Connaught ; that he corresponded Avith O'Donell, who was at the very time levying war against the queen ; that, being allowed to keep six companies in the queen's ser- vice, he so contrived, by continued changes of the men, to discipline the entire population of Tyrone; that having engaged to build a castle for his own residence after the fashion of the English nobility, he had availed himself of the occasion as a pretence to purchase a quantity of lead as if for the roof, but which he stored in Dungannon as mate- rial for bullets. But whatever may have been Tyrone's sincerity, he was no mean proficient in the arts of speciousness : he vindicated his character and intentions before the council, to whom, in the tone of ardent gratitude, he enumerated the many honours and benefits he had received from the bounty of the queen ; and renounced all mercy from the Almighty if he should ever lift his hand against her. He promised to send his son to be educated in Dublin, and to deliver suf- ficient pledges for his future conduct. These representations, which were accompanied with specific answers to the several charges which had been made against him, impressed the council and the lord-deputy m his favour; and they agreed to dismiss him. The queen, who had, perhaps, before this been enabled to form a more correct estimate of Tyrone's conduct, was very much displeased, and sent over a severe reprimand. She thought that her deputy should at least have used the occasion to stipulate for the relief of Eniskillen,* — an object which, in the same month, was effected by Sir William Kussell, who, by a week of rapid and laborious marching over mountain and bog, entered Eniskillen without a blow ; the enemy having abandoned it on his approach. Notwithstanding the strong professions of Tyrone, his real designs were now strongly impressed on the government in both countries. An equivocal course can only deceive for a short time, and suspicious conduct long persisted in becomes the certain indication of the crime suspected. Tlie conduct of Tyrone has been by some thought recon- cilable with loyal intention — we should now judge by tlie event. * Cos. .'522 HUGH, EAEL OF TYEONE. The government was decided, in some measure, by the general evi- dence of cliaracter and the native craft ascribed to Tyrone. He was doubtless fully bent on rebellion. We have willingly conceded to those who are inclined to take the most favourable view, that his earlier professions of loyalty were sincere; it is indeed the infer- ence we have ourselves arrived at: we have also strongly asserted our belief that he was placed in a position which rendered persever- ance in loyalty difficult in a hig-h degree— between the accusations of those who loved his possessions, or resented his encroaching and tyrannical actions — the restless suspicions and despotic temper of lord-deputies, and the fierce remonstrances of his own countrymen. Viewing his conduct with every allowance of palliation, we think that from the commencement of 1594, he must be allowed to have engaged clandestinely in the design then openly avowed by O'Donell ; and all professions to the contrai'y were such as could only be allowed to pass by the most blanieable remissness. It is at this point of time that we think it, therefore, impoi'tant to draw a line, which has been obliterated by the strong party professions of those who have written on either Bide: Cox, whose prejudices blind him, and Moryson who lay within the dust of the struggle, and could not be expected to see beyond it, and the numerous historians who but follow in the wake of these: or, on the other hand, the recent writers who, with a far larger grasp of facts and principles, can only be just to the cause so far as their political creed allows of justice. Totally dissenting from the spirit of each, we have neither allowed the subject of our memoir to be set down as one of the most base and crafty traitors that ever breathed; nor, on the contrary, one of the most injured victims of a base faction and tyrannical government. The government was often incompetent, often tyrannical, and in no instance administered on principles of clear- sighted and comprehensive policy or justice : but Tyrone was fairly open from the beginning to suspicion. Though sagacious, he had not discretion to resist the temptations of power: he was brave in action but he had not the firmness to preserve his consistency. The taunts and solicitations of the disaffected, the injuries and insults of the in- terested underlings of power, warped his course and brought him into positions, in which he met not perhaps all the allowance which these considerations might seem to claim: because, in reality, such allowance cannot in any case be made, but by the eye of omniscience. We shall not, therefore, with some contemporary writers, allow him the praise of a great man. He was, in our estimate, much sinning as well as nmch sinned against ; and it is precisely at the period of his life at which we have now arrived, that we are anxious to impress our reader with this distinction — that having till now wavered under the operation of causes hard to resist, he at length, under the continued operation of these causes joined the struggle, and began to move heart and hand with the rebel party. But it was among the least equivocal indications of the double play upon which Tyrone had entered, that to the native chiefs who had at this time leagued against the English, he actually professed that such was the true nature of his conduct towards the English; that his professions were intended for the purpose of deception : and that ius very acts of seeming' good faith were necessary to support his professions. However his deception may be excused, he was a de- ceiver. But O'Donell, who had, from the beginning, taken the most decided course, now conceived that the time for disguise was over. The native Irish had gained discipline and confidence ; they were be- ginning to be united into the sense of a common cause by the efforts of the foreign ecclesiastics who were sent amongst them from Italy and Spain. From the latter country, they received the fullest assur- ances of liberal aid in men, money, and military supplies. The hopes of the insurgent party were high, and not without strong grounds, both in their own strength and in the weakness of the English, for whom no efficient protection was yielded at any time. Under these cir- cumstances, the temporising policy of the earl rendered him an object of suspicion to the Irish as well as to the English; and O'Donell now at once snapped asunder the cobweb tissue of his transparent deceptions, by a menace th^t if he did not declare himself openly he would at once ti-eat him as an enemy. In this there can be, however, little doubt, that, considered with respect to policy, the step was premature. It was the more cautious design of Tyrone to avoid awakening the go- vernment into any decided course, until the aid so liberally promised by Spain should enable them to support their pretensions. The spirit and energy of O'Donell, with all their efficacy in stirring up the spirit of the land, were by no means as avaiLible in the combination of diffi- culties which were now soon to arise, as the circumspect and cautious character of Tyrone. The true state of Irish affairs began to be understood in the English council ; and it was resolved to take more effectual means to put down the rising troubles which had for some time worn a menacing aspect. A fresh supply of veteran troops was ordered for Ireland, and it was resolved to suppress and overawe the malcontents of Ulster, by encom- passing them on evei-y side. It was also directed that the lord-deputy should endeavour to detach O'Donell, of whose real spirit they were ignorant, from Tyrone: It was considered that O'Donell had received severe and gratuitous ill treatment, which demanded some offer of redress, and partly justified his proceedings. The lord-deputy wrote over to request that, with the troops, an ex- perienced commander might be sent; from whose judgment he might receive warrant and confii-mation in the conduct of his military opera- tions. In answer to this request, the queen sent Sir John Norris, who had very much distinguished himself as a general in the low countries. When Tyrone was apprized of the contemplated reinforcement, he became very much alarmed for the consequences, and justly fearing the design which was rumoured about, he resolved to prevent it by the seizure of the English fort which had been built, according to his former agreement, on the Blackwater; and which was the main check which the queen's government possessed over his own movements. Pretending some frivolous quarrel with its garrison, he attacked and took this fort, and burnt down the bridge to the water. It was the passage into his country, and had he been previously engaged in a. course of open hostilities, he could not have takea a better step. 524 HUGH, EARL OF TYEOIsTE. Having thus plunged into rebellion, he wrote letters to the earl of Kildare, to persuade him to follow the same mad course, and sent off emissaries to Spain to apply for aid and money. His next step was to invest Monaghan, the castle of which was garrisoned by the English. On the news of this, general Bagnal marched to the relief of the besieged town on the 24th May, with fifteen hundred foot and two hunch-ed and fifty horse. Late in the evening, the army reached a place called Eight-mile-church, and took its quarters for the night. While this was doing, Tyrone with a large body of horse came within sight, within about half a mile, but jii'esently retired without any further demonstration. Next morning the English marched on until they reached a pass, when they were attacked; but succeeded in forc- ing their way, and proceeded on their march till they reached the town. The siege Avas raised on their approach ; nothing material occurred dur- ing the remainder of that day, but the English leaders soon perceived that their position was not the most advantageous. Within a mile of where they lay, on a hill by the abbey of Monaghan, they were enabled distinctly to perceive the junction of the armies of M'Guire, and other chiefs, with the formidable host of Tyrone, forming a body of eight thousand foot, and one thousand horse, as well armed and scarcely less disciplined than themselves. The English, little more than the ninth part of that army in number, were besides but ill provided for an emer- gency, which nothing had led them to expect, and it was quite obvious that their best success would be to make a successful retreat. On the next morning the enemy's camp was in motion at an early hour, and strong parties were seen to march out in difterent directions with silent celerity, but not so secretly as to escape the observation of the veteran who commanded the English party. The rebel leaders con- ceiving that the English were in their power, and only to be secured, had prudently enough resolved to seize on every pass, and cut off" their retreat. Bagnal was not prevented by the visible danger from taking such precautions as he thought necessary, for the relief of Monaghan, into which he sent men and victuals, and then ordered a retreat. This operation was, however, become in a high degree difficult ; the rebel leaders, from their knowledge of the country, were enabled to throw themselves into a hoUowthrough which the English must presently pass. When the English reached this place they were encountered by a severe fire, which, from the multitude of the assailants and their advantage of position, would quickly have anihilated them had it lasted ; but by great good fortune the rebels were not provided with ammunition sufficient to keep up their fire which after some fierce discharges became slack. On this the English, knowing that the danger was over, pre- ]:)ared to encamp for the night: they had lost twenty men. and had ninety wounded ; of the rebels bet ween three and four hundred had fallen. All night the English lay in the very midst of the Irish army, which occupied all the heights and posts of advantage round them. They lay in their arms and were fully prepared for any sudden irruption which might reasonably be anticipated from the known customs of the enemy with which they had to deal. This consequence was perhaps arrested by a much more prudent conduct on the part of Tyrone and his friends. Thinking to make the matter sure they sent to Dunganiion for a supply of ammunition, but providentially obtained none ; on the next morning-, therefore, the English were allowed to pursue their way unmolested to Newry. This bold step was followed soon by a proclamation, declaring Tyrone, O'Donell, M'Guire, and others, traitors. In the mean time. Sir John Norris had arrived with 8000 men, of which 2000 were veteran soldiers ; and on the J 8tli of June, they marched to- wards Dundalk. On the 23d, O'Donell, Tyrone, and other chiefs who were of their party, were proclaimed traitors, " both in Eng- lish and Irish."* On this the insurgent chiefs, either took alarm; or else, as is not unlikely under the circumstances in which they sup- posed themselves to stand, they thought it would be advisable to gain time, and by any means, avoid a premature trial of strength: and adopted the course of a pretended submission. Such expedients were indeed convenient, and easy in the highest degree, at a time when the most solemn engagements and binding pledges were entered into, and broken with a facility unintelligible in any modern state of things. The Irish chiefs were under an illusory expectation of foreign ^aid, and had not been enabled by any experience to calculate on the real force which England could throw into the struggle if once fairly com- mitted to it. They were imposed on by the desultory nature of the contest, in which they played unconsciously with the arms of the sleeping giant that had, when fairly roused, been ever found an over- match for any nation on wave or plain. Yet making all allowances for the errors of the time, it is difficult for those who look through the medium of modern conventions, to comprehend satisfactorily the entire conduct of the rebel eaid : or to reconcile even to any well devised system of deception, his frequent and anxious petitions for pardons which were spurned as soon as obtained: or his specious excuses and profes- sions, with his bold and furious outbreaks — such as the demolition of the foi-t of Blackwater, his attack on Monaghan, and his treasonable cor- respondence with the earl of Kildare, in which he proposed to that nobleman to join in rebellion. Still more strange indeed was the course which Camden attributes to the earl. While yet engaged in the preparations for an extensive combination against the English government,"!' he adtbessed letters to the earl of Ormonde, and to Sir Henry Wallop, to implore for their intercession in his behalf. He also wrote to the general-in-chief Sir J. Norris, to the same purpose, immediately after his former defeat. Whatever may have been the character of Tyrone's applications, their purpose was partially frustrated by a manoeuvre as dishonest, and a thousand times more base. The deceit of Tyrone was sanctioned by usage ; it was a trick nearly conventional in the shuffling game of Irish politics : but the interception and suppression of his letters by marshal Bagnal was the mean and dishonourable expedient of personal * Cox. + Sometliing in tins statement is to be sillowed for the exaggerations of pttrty. All the Irish liistorians of Camden's age, liice those of our own, were, vvilho-ut exception, partj writers. 526 HUGH, EARL OF TYEONE. malice — the base resource of a base passion. The letter to Norris, falling thus into the hands of Tyrone's deadliest enemy, was carefully held back until the proclamation had gone forth. But in addition to his other crimes, it was discovered that Tyrone had written to the king of Spain, to offer him the kingdom of Ireland for a supply of 3000 men and some money.* The queen was irritated by outbreaks so re- peated as to remove all confidence in professions or pledges, and de- clared her resolution never to pardon the earl again — a resolution which, says Cox, she kept to her dying day- Many strong considerations, however, weighed on the other side: the strength of the English was far inferior to the exigency of circum- stances; and that of the rebels was fast augmenting in numbers, com- bination, discipline, and the munitions of war. The Irish force in Ulster alone was rated at 7,280. The incessant efforts of Tyrone and O'Donell had brought them into a state of training scarcely inferior to that of the English, of whom the greater part were but raw recruits. Sir John Perrot had been betrayed into an expedient, which had very much tended to this result: in his desire to increase his force with less cost, by fighting the Irish against each other, he liad employed and trained to arms large bodies of men, who now swelled the ranks of the insurgent chiefs. These considerations, with the strong urgency of those English lords, who were the personal friends of Tyrone, weighed with the English government. I'he treachery of Bagnal had also its weight in favour of Tyrone, and the queen gave her consent that a treaty should be entered on with himself and the chiefs of his party. A truce was therefore made on the 27th October, 1595, till the first of January following, for the purpose of hearing the complaints, and receiving the submissions of the chiefs, and coming to some distinct terms for their I'uture government. For this, Sir Henry Wallop, and chief-justice Gardiner, were appointed commissioners, and a meeting took place about the middle of January. The particulars of tlie conference are given at lai'ge, both by Mory- son, and by the MS. historian of O'Donell. The representations of tlie chiefs were specious, and their complaints for the most part just; but this constitutes the vast difficulty of the Irish history of this entire period, that nothing on either side (especially on that of the Irish chiefs,) was precisely according to the ostensible pretence of the par- ties. The speeches were fair, and the demands not unreasonable: but nothing was meant by the leading chiefs but to trifle ; and those amongst their number who were in good earnest, were perverted by the representations of O'Donell, who addressed them apart, and set before them his view of their true prospects in the growing strength of their arms, and the promises of the king of Spain, Avho, he said, " should not be deceived, as he was incapable of deceiving them." Such is the true representation of one who could not have mistaken what passed before him, and is the best commentary on the statement of Moryson, which otherwise leaves the conduct of the Irish chiefs inex- plicable. We extract it entire. * Cox. HUGH, EARL OF TYRONE. 527 " Tyrone in tliis conference complained of tlie marsliall for his usurped jurisdiction in Ulster, for depriving- him oHVa queen's favours by slanders ; for intercepting his late letters to the lord deputie,^ and lord generall, protesting that he never negotiated with forraine prince, till he was proclaimed traytor. His humble petitions w^ere, that hee and his might be pardoned, and have free exercise of religion granted, (which notwithstanding had never before either been punished or inquired after.) That the mar shall should pay him one thousand pounds for his dead sisters, his wives portion; that no garrisons nor sheriffes should be in his country ; that his troope of liftie hoi-se in the queenes pay might be restored to him ; and that such as had preyed his country, might make restitution. " O'Douell, magnifying his fathers' and progenitors' services to the crowne, complained that captaine Boyne, sent by Sir John Perrot with his company into his countrey, under pretence to reduce the people to civilitie, and being well entertained by his father, had besides many other injuries raised a bastard to be O'Donell, and that Sir John Perrot, by a ship sent thither, had taken himselfe by force, and long imprisoned him at Dublin ; and that Sir William Fitz-William had wrongfully kept Owen O'Toole, above mentioned, seven yeeres in prison. His petitions were for pardon to him and his, and for freedome of religion; that no garrisons or sheriffs might bee placed in his countrey, and that certain castles and lands in the county of Sligo might bee restored to him. " Shane MacBrian, MacPhelime O'Keale, complained of an iland taken from him by the earle of Essex, and that he had been impri- soned till he surrendered to the marshall a barony, his ancient inheri- tance. Hugh M'Guire complained of insolencies done by garrison Boiddiers, and by a sheriffe, who besides killed one of his nearest khismen, Brian MacHugh Oge, and MacHowne, (so the Irish called the chiefe of that name surviving,) and Ever MacCooly, of the same family of MacHownes, complained of the above-mentioned unjust exe- cution of Hugh Roe MacHowne, in the governement of Sir William Fitz-Williams."* The commissioners admitted the fairness of many of these com- plaints, and frankly promised redress; but thought it necessary on the part of the queen to make such conditions as were absolutely necessary to secure the peace of the country in the interim. It was stipulated that they should lay down their arms, repair the forts they had razed, admit sheriffs into their territories and counties, restore property they had obtained by recent violence, abstain from their attacks on the garrisoned forts; that they should reveal their secret communications with the foreign enemies of the queen, ask pardon for their rebellion, and solemnly swear allegiance, and to avoid all future rebellion. As there was nothing in these demands inconsistent with the repeated promises and pretences of those who were now present, it would not be easy to assign any specious ground for a i-efusal ; yet such was the result. The conference was held in the open fields, and in sight of the armed guards which either party thought necessary for their pro- * ilorvsou. 528 HUGH, EAEL OF TYRONE. tection. But after listening with seemiDg- resjject to the propositions of the commissioners, they adjourned to a neighbouring hill, where speeches widely different from those "vv^e have just seen were made;* and the discussion was fiercely terminated without any result but a truce most injudicious on the part of tlie English, and precisely no more nor less than the object which the insurgents desired, and which gave them further time till April. In the interval the earl discovered that matters were not as ripe for war as he had antici^jated ; for in June, he was glad to receive terms substantially the same from Norris, who came to Dundalk with the intent of leading his army into Tyrone. On this occa- sion the earl signed a submission in which he agreed to separate him- self from the rebels, to refrain from intermeddling with his neighbours, to admit a sheriff, to rebuild Blackwater fort, to supply the garrison for ready money, to dismiss his forces, to confess his foreign negotiations, to give in sufficient pledges, and to pay whatever fine the queen should think fit to impose. His pardon was signed on the 12th May, and he sent a letter from the king of Spain to be perused by the government, taking however care to swear his messenger not to permit a copy to be taken, as such a document would evidently have the effect of commit- ting him with O'Donell, and the other chiefs, by the exj)osure of an act which they might have violently resented. But such was the uncertainty of the earl's mind, that he had not yet completely executed the preliminaries of this agreement, when he repented. Either his pride, which apparently stood on low ground, or his fear of his Irish allies, or the influence of the frank and spirited O'Donell, or his hopes of foreign aid, or all of these motives weighed upon his mind, and deterred him from the course of honour and pru- dence. Sir Edward Moore, who was sent to convey to him his pardon and receive his pledges, could nowhere find him: he eluded his engage- ment by concealing himself. We believe the fact to be, that in the interval he received a letter from O'Donell, apprizing him of the arrival of three Spanish vessels with two hundred men, and a supply of ammu- nition, with the promise of more. There is sufficient evidence quoted by Cox for the assertion, that he immediately engaged in a treason- able correspondence with Feagh MacHugh. At length, on the 22d of July, he took out his pardon, and put in his pledges with strong pro- testations of future loyalty ; but by a remissness on the part of govern- ment, which would be unaccountable if it were necessary to account for the numberless inconsistencies of this anomalous history, he Avas allowed to refuse taking an oath against foreign correspondence. The next incident of this strange history is in character with the rest. A war, of which we shall elsewhere give the particulars, broke out in Leinster with Feagh MacHugh, and while it engaged the attention of the English, the earl made a descent upon Armagh, which he at- tempted to surprize. In this assault, thirty-five of the garrison were slain, and eight were killed in the neighbourhood where they had been sent to collect wood.f On this he was written to by the lord-deputy and coimcil, and replied that he was induced to this action by their * MS. Life of O'Donell. f Cox. HUGH, EARL OF TYRONE. 529 attack on his ally MacHugli — a reply plainly in the teeth of all en- gagements; so as indeed to show that with all the intelligence attri- buted to Tyrone, he never had a distinct conception of the real force of his agreements with the government. It was on the 30th Decem- ber following, that Feagh MacHugh was killed. In our summary of the above-mentioned particulars, we have taken the accounts most favourable to Tyrone, so far as they can be regard- ed as entitled to consideration. The account of Moryson in some respects presents a more unfavourable aspect of the earl's histoi'y ; but unless when he happens to be an eye-witness, we must consider the report of a contemporary always to be received with no slight caution, and to be carefully tested by adverse writers. Some, however, of the particulars of the agreement last mentioned, are according to Moryson's view, such as to extenuate in some degree the conduct of Tyrone. We would not, however, be mistaken ; we mean that sort of extenu- ation which arises from judging of men's actions from their principles of action, and their notions of right, however erroneous. Moryson mentions that Tyrone made his submission on his knees, but from the same account it appears that most of the stipulations which he thought lit to make were sternly rejected. For this it may indeed be admit- ted, that there was sufficient reason in the nature and design of these stipulations, some of which but too plainly exhibited that the earl was trifling, and some were inconsistent with the very principle recognized in his submission, namely, that he was a subject to the English throne. Among these, one was a petition for " liberty of religion," and was as the journalist says, " utterly rejected." This must now seem hard; at that time it was both just and expedient, for religion was the hol- low pretext to concentrate under the shadow of a common cause, a rebellion originating in, and kept alive by motives of self-interest, pride, resentment, and fear. Under the sacred name of religion, it was then not uncommon to mask designs which could not safely be exhibited; but it was known that Tyrone scoffed openly at theolo- gical disputes, and in his personal conduct and private intercourse was really an Irreligious person. " Hang thee," said the courtly earl of Essex in a friendly conversation, " thou talkest of a free exercise of religion — thou calmest as much for religion as my horse;" the jest was taken in friendly part by the earl, who had too much tact and . pride to make himself ridiculous, by an unseasonable hypocrisy. The day was yet far off when political craft involved the necessity of private dissimulation ; but at the same time we must in fairness admit, that the rights of conscience may be contested by the most flagitious; and that liberty of religion. Is a ground on which Infidelity itself may take Its stand with some degree of sincerity. Such is (or was) human nature. Among other stipulations, Tyrone demanded freedom from sheriffs and garrisons. This dem.and, so utterly Inconsistent Avith the Idea of submission, as well as with his station as a British earl, was of course refused.* He Interceded for the pardon of O'Reilly ; and It was justly answered, that being himself to be pardoned, he could not be received as the mediator for the offences of another- The whole * Moryson. O T 530 HUGH, EARL OF TYRONE. of this portion of our narrative seems to place beyond controversy tliat Tyrone was treated with great forbearance, and that his notions of honour and justice, as well as his character for intelligence, sagacity, and education, are a little overstated by those writers who would raise him into a hero. Some eminent talents we must allow him, but of these the illustrations are yet to appear. We should not omit to add here, that the Irish government were at the very time of which we still speak, very much divided on his account. He had warm friends among the lords, an advantage which he well knew how to secure and make the most of, and which was no slight means of his long continu- ance in resisting the laws. There was even some dissension on his account between Norris and the lord-deputy, of whom the latter would be severe and the first indulgent. To this, among other circum- stances, may have been due the protracted uncertainty of his conduct. But although it is difficult to convey an adequate notion of Tyrone, without some description of the numerous repetitions of submission and revolt, which, however explained, form the main features of his history ; yet to avoid extreme tediousness, it becomes necessary to pass, as lightly as our task will admit, over numerous details which with slight changes of scene and party may all be told in the same language. Indeed, so far is this true, that they are not uncommonly confounded by those who have written the history of that period. In May, 1597, Russell was recalled, and Thomas lord Brough sent over with additional powers. It is probable that the queen was by this time grown discontented with Norris, whose successes did not keep pace with her impatience, as well as by reason of his known dis- position to favour the earl of Tyrone. Among the first acts of the new lord-deputy, was an order sending Norris to his government of Munster, with a strict command not to leave it without express permis- sion; Norris obeyed, and shortly after died, it is said, from the effects of vexation and wounded pride. The change was much to the disad- vantage of Tyrone, who according to his wonted custom, immediately applied for a truce for one month. Lord Brough had resolved to dis- regard all such applications, which Avere now beginning to be clearly understood ; but in this instance the truce was convenient, as it would enable him to make his own preparations. When the truce was expired, lord Brough marched into the north and entered Tyrone. The earl attempted to intercept his passage through the woods near Armagh, by their ancient method of inter- lacing the boughs, but the English cut their way through without meeting any check. Arriving at the fort of Blackwater, they assaulted and won this important place; but they were yet on their knees giving thanks to God for their success, when the Irish made their ap- pearance on the edge of the forest. Lord Brough ordered an instant attack, and the brave English rushed forward into the wood, in which a desultory and skirmishing conflict took place. The people of Tyrone soon fled, but not till some valuable lives were lost. Among the slain were two foster-brothers of Henry, earl of Kildare, Avho com- manded a troop of horse on that occasion. Their death so grieved the earl that he did not long survive. Lord Brough had not long quitted the north, when he heard tha* HUGH, EARL OF TYRONE. 531 Blackwater was ag-ain besieged by the eavl of Tyrone, on which he tm-n- ed back with a resolution to march to Dungannon, but died on the way. He was succeeded by Sir Thomas Norris, brother to the late generai, but he also died on his arrival in Dublin, and the lord-chancellor Loftus, chief-justice Gardiner, with the archbishop of Dublin, were entrusted as lords justices with the civil government, and the earl of Ormonde was appointed to the command of the army, under the title of lord-lieutenant of the army. On this he was immediately applied to by the earl of Tyrone, to obtain a commission to treat with him. Lord Ormonde complied, and a truce for eight weeks was agreed on ; this was followed by a general pardon under the great seal, ob- tained also by the strong intercession of Ormonde. But this pardon was never pleaded by Tyrone, who simply availed himself of the im- mediate immunity it afforded to follow the course in which he must now be regarded as decided ; so that, as Moryson observes, he was afterwards, in the year IGOO, outlawed on- a previous indictment. The terms of this pardon were the same as those hitherto proposed, and were as usual with slight and fair exceptions agreed to by the earl. The fort of Blackwater appears to have been a subject of constant irritation to Tyrone, although its preservation was a chief point in all his treaties for pardon: though one of his main conditions was an agreement to supply the soldiers with provisions, and to offer them no indignity or impediment, yet he never lost an opportunity to molest them ; and an assault upon them was mostly his first step when by the intermission of a pardon he found all quiet. On the present occa- sion, he did not suffer more than two months to elapse, before he sent a party to the aid of O'Byrne, the son of Feagh MacHugh O'Byrne; and at the same time made a violent attack on the fort of Blackwater. He met on this occasion a bloody repulse ; captain Williams with his small party of a hundred men, filled the earthen trench which sur- rounded them with the bodies of their bold assailants, so that they did not attempt to renew the assault. They then retired to a safer dis- tance, and surrounded the fort by strong parties so as to cut off all supplies, and the condition of the bi'ave little garrison became thus one of the most imminent peril. For about three weeks they con- tinued in this trying situation, in the entire destitution of all ordinary means of sustaining life : fortunately for them they had a few horses in the fort, and with these they contrived to find some wild weeds in the ditch, which could be converted into food. They had eaten their horses, and were lying in the extremity of want, when lord Ormonde having heard of their condition, sent Sir Henry Bagnal to raise the siege. The leader was unfortunately chosen. When Bagnal appeared at the head of his small force, at the entrance of the thick wood east of Armagh,* the hate of Tyrone was roused by the appearance of his deadliest enemy, and the event of the battle was suspended on the fate of Bagnal, against whom the earl directed his entire fury. The ffrst charge decided the fight, for Bagnal fell by the hand of his enemy, and the usual effect took place. The few companies which he led were panlc- * Morvson. 532 HUGH, EARL OF TYRONE. struck by the fall of their leader,and gave way. The fury of their antago- nists did not allow them to rally; and first ftiUing into confusion, they were scattered into groups, and suffered the most dreadful slaughter which had hitherto been known in the Irish wars between the English and Irish : fifteen hundred soldiers with thirteen captains fell. The fort of Blackwater was surrendered in consequence at the desire of the feeble remnant of the English army, who represented by their messengers to Williams, that it was their only hope of safety. This dreadful disaster was perhaps several ways decisive of the fate of Tyrone, and his brave companions in rebellion. It gave to himself and the chiefs of his party an impulse which fixed them in their rash and presumptuous course. It told the English queen and her council that the season for trifling was over; that if England was to rule, it should first win by force of arms. This victory supplied the rebel earl with arms, and thus enabled him to increase his force. He was on all sides congratulated by the insurgent spirits of Ulster, Munster, and Connaught, as the deliverer of his country, while universal fear seized on the English of the pale, and the garrisons of the queen. Moryson, speaking of the Irish soldiery at the time, observes, " The Irish kerne were at first rude soldiers, so as two or three of them were employed to discharge one piece, and hitherto they have subsisted especially by treacherous tenders of sul)mission ; but now they are grown ready in managing their pieces, and bold to skirmish in bogges and woody passages, yea, this year and the next following, became so disastrous to the English, and successful in action to the Irish, as they shaked the English government in this kingdome, till it tottered and wanted little of fatal ruine."* It was at this period that the INIunster rebellion broke out with in- creased fury under James Fitz-Thomas, commonly nick-named the Sugan Earl. This unfortunate person, as we have already related at length, set up for the earldom and inheritance of Desmond, with strong promises of support from the earl of Tyrone, which were however very inadequately fulfilled. The Ulster chief having fully roused and en- couraged the disaffected chiefs of Munster, left them to pursue the sanguinary stream into which they were thus launched, and turned back to Tyrone. In the meantime, Tyrone maintained the same course of transparent dissembling with government. It was necessary to adapt his profes- sions and asseverations to the alteration of circumstances ; but he still continued to make applications for truces and pardons, though with conditions more exacting than before. It can however be scarcely supposed, that he looked for any further advantage than a little delay. This, it must be kept in mind, was, as it appeared to be, the main object. In common with all his countrymen, the earl was at the moment under the fatal delusion caused by the promises of Spain. He is indeed unlikely to have so far overrated the successes he had gained, as to imagine that they could have any effect on the English govern- ment, but to elicit a vast increase of force. And such was the speedy ' Morj'son. HUGH, EARL OF TYRONE. 533 consequence, though the natural result was delayed by the indiscre- tion and mismanagement of the earl of Essex, who was now sent over. The history and character of Essex are among the most popular passages of English history, and cannot need to be dwelt upon here. Brave, generous, ardent, and ambitious, with great talent and little discretion or judgment, he was in this as on other trying occasions, made the du|)e of his more subtle enemies and rival;-, and of liis own pas- sions. His military reputation stood high, but not on any very au- thoritative experience ; but his personal valour was at least unquestion- able, and his talents specious and imposinsr. His enemies in the English court were also desirous both to send him out of the way, and to en- tangle him in a position where honour had been seldom gained, and was least of all likely to be gained by him. It was easier to impose on the queen than on Cecil : Essex had, in his comments on the Irish insurrections, which then occupied the conversation of the English court, shown that superficial sagacity so often to be met with in critics and lookers on, and strenuously insisted upon the gross error of the Irish lieutenants, in allowing themselves to be trifled with, and not striking at once at the root of all the insurrections, by the suppression of Tyrone. This was the sentiment of the queen and generally of the English court and council. It was therefore but natural, that from the ardent and impetuous earl, with all his bravery and cheap-won military character, and with all her own womanly partiality, that the queen should form the fond hope, that he would prosecute this tedious and vexatious war to an end, by pursuing a course so apparently ob- vious and on which he himself so strongly insisted. Under these auspices, the earl entered on his enterprize. On the 15th April, 1599, he landed in Dublin with greater powers and more splendid allowances than had hitherto been granted to any lord-lieutenant. Among these, which are detailed at great length by the writers of that time, we may specify the allowance of ten pounds a day for his pay.* On his arrival, he demanded and obtained from the Irish council a statement of the actual position of aifairs. By this it is made clear as can be, that every part of the country was in total or partial insurrection. It was nevertheless equally apparent, that in these various instances of local rebellion, there was not one, the magni- tude or importance of which was sufficient to warrant the diversion of the whole or any part of the English army, from the great northern rebellion which was the vital centre to the whole. A few days after his arrival, Essex dispatched letters to England giving an account of every thing to the queen and council. In one of these, he states, that Tyrone had in his own council declared his design to be a concentration of all the rebels into one united power, acting under himself as its head : that for this purpose he was to have an army of his own in Ulster of 6000 men, and one of 6000 under Hugh O'Donell in Connaught. He further informed the council, that in Munster large bodies of men had assembled at a public cross, to swear that they would be steadfast in rebellion. He added that the general sense of the rebels was to repel * Moryson. 534 HUGH, EARL OF TYRONE. all thoughts of pardon, and that in consequence they had assumed an unprecedented insolence of deportment. Such, we believe to be, in the main, a fair statement of the circum- stances under which Essex thought fit, or as some suppose, suffered himself to be persuaded by designing persons to lay aside all his pre- vious opinions of the conduct of the war, and instead of marching into Ulster, to waste time and means upon desultory and inconsequent hostilities. Pursuing the very course which he had so strongly cen- sured, he marched into Munster and took Cahir Castle belonging to Edward Butler; and collected a large plunder of cattle, without having any opposition to encounter, the rebels scattering at his approach and taking refuge in the woods. While on this expedition, however, lord Essex had not been remiss in taking the most effective steps to obtain information, and the letter which he wrote to the queen, is valuable for the general sketch which it presents of the real position of both parties. It contains also much that is characteristic of both the character and circumstances of the unfortunate writer. We therefore give it at length. " When this shall come to your majesties hands, I know not; but whensoever it hath that honour, g-lve it leave (I humbly beseech your majesty) to tell you, that having now passed through the provinces of Leinster and Munster, and been upon the frontire of Connaught, (where the governour and the chiefe of the province were with me ;) I dare begin to give your majesty some advertisement of the state of this kingdome, not as before by heare-say, but as I beheld it with mine owne eyes. The people in general have able bodies by nature, and have gotten by custome ready use of arms, and by their late successes boldnes to fight with your majesties troopes. In their pride they value no man but themselves, in their affections they love nothing but idle- nesse and licentiousnesse, in their rebellion they have no other end but to shake off the yoake of obedience to your majesty, and to root out all remembrance of the English nation in this kingdome. I say this of the people in generall ; for I find not ouely the greater part thus affected, but it is a generall quarrell of the Irish, and they who do not professe it, are either so few or so false, that there is no accompt to be made of them. The Irish nobility and lords of countreys, doe not onely in their hearts affect this plausible quarrell, and are divided from us in religion, but have an especiall quarrell to the English governement, because it limitteth and tieth them, who ever have been and ever would be as absolute tyrants as any are under the sunne. The townes being Inhabited by men of the same religion and birth as the rest, are so carried away with the love of gain, that for it, they v/ill furnish the rebels with all things that may arme them, or inable them against the state or against themselves. The wealth of the kingdome, which con- sisteth in cattle, oate-meale, and other victuals, is almost all in the rebels' hands, who in every province till my comming have been masters of the field. The expectation of all these rebels is very present, and very confident that Spaine will either so invade your majesty that you shall have no leisure to prosecute them here, or so succour them that they will get most of the townes into their hands, ere your majesty shall HUGH, EAEL OF TYEONE. 535 relieve or reinforce your army ; so that now if your majesty resolve to subdue these rebels by force, they are so many, and so framed to be souldiers, that the warre of force will be great, costly, and long. If your majesty will seeke to breake them by factions among themselves, they are so courteous and mercenary and must be purchased, and their Jesuits and practising priests must be hunted out and taken from them, which now doe sodder them so fast and so close together. If your majesty will have a strong party in the Irish nobility, and make use of them, you must hide from them all purpose of establishing English government till the strength of the Irish be so broken, that they shall see no safety but in your majesties protection. If your majesty will be assured of the possession of your townes, and keepe them from sup- plying the wants of the rebels, you must have garrisons brought into them, able to command them, and make it a capital offence for any merchant in Ireland to trade with the rebels, or buy or sell any armes or munition whatsoever. For your good subjects may have for their money out of your majesties store, that which shall be appointed by order, and may serve for their necessary defence ; whereas if once they be tradable, the rebels will give such extreme and excessive prices, that they will never be kept from them. If your majesty will secure this your realme from the danger of invasion, as soone as those which direct and mannage your majesties intelligences, give notice of the preparations and readinesse of the enemy, you must be as well armed and provided for your defence : which provision consists in having forces upon the coast inroled and trained ; in having magazines of victuall in your majesties west and north-west parts ready to be trans- ported ; and in having ships both of warre and transportation, Avhich may carry and waft them both upon the first allarum of a discent. The enroling and training of your subjects, is no charge to your majesties owne cofers ; the providing of magazines will never be any losse, for in using them you may save a kingdome, and if you use them not you may have your old store sold (and if it be well handled) to your majesties profit. The arming of your majesties shijas, when you heare your enemy armes to the sea, is agreeable to your owne provident and princely courses, and to the pollicy of all princes and states of the world. But to return to Ireland againe, as I have shewed your majesty the dangers and disadvantages, which your servants and ministers here shall and doe meete withall, in this great work of redeeming this kingdome; so I will now (as well as I can) represent to your majesty your strength and advantages. First, these rebels are neither able to force any walled towne, castle, or house of strength, nor to keepe any that they get, so that while your majesty keeps your army in strength and vigor, you are undoubtedly mistresse of all townes and holds whatsoever; by which meanes (if your majesty have good ministers) all the wealth of the land shall be drawne into the hands of your sub- jects ; your souldiers in the winter shall be easefuUy lodged, and readily supplied of any wants, and we that command your majesties forces, may make the warre offensive and defensive, may fight and be in safty as occasion is ofiered. Secondly, your majesties horsemen are so in- comparably better than the rebels, and their foot are so unwilling to fight in battle or grope, (^howsoever they may be desirous to skirmish 536 HUGH, EARL OF TYRONE. and fig-ht loose,) that your majesty may be alwaies mistresse of the champion countries, which are the best parts of this kin"gdome. Thirdly, your majesty victualling your army out of England, and witli your garrisons burning and sjioyling the countrey in all places, shall starve the rebel in one year, because no place else can supply them. Fourthly, since no warr can be made without munition, and this muni- tion rebell cannot have but from Spaine, Scotland, or your own townes here, if your majesty Avill still continue your ships and pinaces upon the coast, and be pleased to send a printed proclamation, that upon paine of death no merchant, townes-man, or other subject, doe trafficke with the rebell, or buy or sell in any sort munition or armes, I doubt not, but in a short time I shall make them bankerout of their old store, and I hope our seamen will keepe them from receiving any new. Fifthly, your majesty hath a rich store of gallant colonels, captains, and gentlemen of quality, whose example and execution is of more use than all the rest of your troopes. Whereas, the men of best qualitio among the rebels, which are their leaders and their horsemen, dare never put themselves to any hazard, but send their kerne and their hirelings to fight with your majesties troopes; so that although their common soldiers are too hard for our new men, yet are they not able to stand before such gallant men as will charge them. Sixthly, your majesties commanders being advised and exercised, know all advan- tages, and by the strength of their order, will in all great fights beate the rebels ; for they neither march, nor lodge, nor fight in order, but only by the benefit of their footmanship, can come on and go off at their pleasure, which makes them attend a whole day, still skirmishing, and never engaging themselves ; so that it hath been ever the fault and weaknesse of your majesties leaders, wheresoever you have received any blow, for the rebels doe but watch and attend upon all grosse oversights. Now, if it please your majesty to compare your advantages and disadvantages together, you shall finde, that though these rebels are more in number than your majesties army, and have (though I doe unwillingly confesse it) better bodies and perfecter use of their amies, than those men which your majesty sends over; yet your majesty, com- manding the walled townes, holders, and champion countries, and hav- ing a brave nobility and gentry, a better discipline, and stronger order than they, and such meanes to keep from them the maintenance of their life, and to waste the countrie which should nourish them, your majestie may promise yourselfe that this action will (in the end) be successful, though costly, and that your victorie will be certaine, though many of us your honest servants must sacrifice ourselves in the quarrell, and that this kingdome will be reduced, though it will ask (besides cost) a great deale of care, industry, and time. But why doe I talke of victorie, or of successe? Is it not knowne that from England I re- ceive nothing but discomforts and soules Avounds? Is it not spoken in the army that your majesties favour is diverted from me, and tliat already you do boad ill both to me and it? Is it not beleeved by the rebels, that those whom you favour most doe more hate me out of faction, then out of dutie or conscience? Is it not lamented of your majesties faithfullesc subjects both there and here, that a Ccbham, or a Raleigh (I will forbeare others for their places' sake) should ha^e such credit and favour with your majesty, when they wish the ill suc- cesse of your majesties most important action, the decay of your greatest strength, and the destruction of your faithfuUest servants. Yes, yes, I see both my owne destiny, and your majesties decree, and doe willingly imbrace the one, and obey the other. Let me honestly and zealously end a wearisome life, let others live in deceitful and in- consistent pleasure ; let me beare the brunt and die mei'itoriously, let others achive and finish the worke, and live to erect trophies. But my prayer shall be, that when my soveraigne looseth mee, her army may not loose courage, or this kingdom want phisicke, or her dearest selfe misse Essex, and then I can never goe in a better time, nor in a fairer way. Till then, I protest before God and his angels, that I am a true votarie, that is sequestered from all things but my duty and my charge : I performe the uttermost of my bodies, miudes, and fortunes abilitie, and more should, but that a constant care and labor agrees not with my inconsistent health, in an unwholesome and uncertain clymate. This is the hand of him that did live your dearest, and your majesties faithfuUest servant, " Essex." In this letter there is a fair and just representation of the general condition of the country. It exhibits, in strong colours, the true force and weakness of either side — the growing strength of the Irish, and the incredible want of the commonest forethought and activity in the provisions and conduct of their opponents. But, like all persons of unpractical understanding, the earl theorized, observed, and wasted his thoughts on circumstances and preliminaries, while the main fire of the rebellion was allowed to gather uninterrupted force ; and the queen was justly incensed, when, instead of receiving intelligence of some direct and vigorous attack on the main forces of Tyrone or O'Donell, she received a letter of general policy and counsel, of the greater part of which she was herself very sufficiently informed before she sent him over armed with unusual powers and at vast expense to bring the struggle to an issue. Towards the end of July he returned to Eeinster, leading back an army broken and exhausted by weariness and sickness, and, as Mory- son says, " incredibly diminished in number," without having met an enemy, or performed any service worthy of account. During this nugatory expedition, a party of 6U0 men, rashly detached into the dangerous glens of Wicklow without experienced leaders, met the na- tural consequence of such a heedless disposition, and were routed by the O'Byrnes, headed by Phelim, the son of Feagh. On this unhappy occasion, lord Essex displayed a rigour not less pernicious than the feebleness of his former conduct. He disarmed and decimated the un- fortunate men whom he should have preserved from a disgrace for which he inflicted on them a punishment more justly due to himself; and brought their officers to court-martial, for the failure of an ex- pedition which should have been more prudently planned. He was ere long apprized of the queen's displeasure at his remiss- ness, on which he promised to march speedily into Ulster ; but it is highly probable that at the moment he felt his force to be imequal to 538 HUGH, EARL OF TYRONE. the undertaking. In his reply to the queen on that occasion, he threw the whole hiame of his conduct upon the advice of the Irish council. Notwithstanding' this, he was compelled to a nearer expedition for the defence of the pale. His own remissness had, in fact, given courage to the lesser chiefs who dwelt around the English borders ; and the O'iMores and O' Conors were up in arms in Leix and Ophaly. On his return from an expedition, in which he met with not sufficient oppo- sition to add very materially to his reputation, he found his force so much reduced that it became necessary to apply for a reinforcement of a thousand men before he could proceed further. He, neverthe- less, as a preliminary movement, ordered Sir Conyers Clifford into Connaught to compel Tyrone to send a part of his troops that way. Sir Conyers, as we have already had occasion to relate, at length marched on with a small body of 1500 horse and foot until he came to the Curlew mountains, among the passes of which he was surprised, defeated, and slain, by a body of Irish under O'Ruarke. In the meantime the necessary reinforcements arrived from England. But the winter was approaching, and lord Essex was compelled to write to the queen, that nothing more could be done that season but to draw his now small forces to the north. It was late in September when, with 1300 foot and 300 horse, he took up a position on the borders of Tyrone. The rebel earl, with his army, were in sight ranged on the opposite hills. Tyrone, who was thoroughly aware of Essex's nature, seems to have at once decided his course of conduct, and sent him a messenger to request an interview. Lord Essex returned for answer, that if the earl of Tyrone desired to speak to him, he should be found on the morrow in arms at the head of his troop. The next day a slight skirmish took place ; but one of Tyrone's men cried out, with a loud voice, that the earl of Tyrone would not fight, but meet lord Essex unarmed and alone; and on the following day, as Essex again ad- vanced, he was met by Hagan, Tyrone's messenger, who declared his master's wish to submit to the queen, and his request that lord Essex would meet him at the ford of Ballycliach. The lord-lieutenant con- sented, and sent some persons forward to view the ford. They found Tyrone himself in waiting, who assured them that lord Essex and he could hear each other with perfect ease across the river. Lord Essex arrived, and the earl of Tyrone, on seeing him at the river side, spurred down the hill from his party, and, coming alone to the bank, without any hesitation, rode into the stream until the water was up to his knee, and saluting lord Essex, whose romantic spirit was captivated by this dexterous specimen of Irish frankness, they had a long conver- sation, which we are not enabled to detail, but which the reader of the foregoing pages may with sufficient probability conjecture. On the subject of the grievances he had endured from the Irish govern- ment, Tyrone's material for complaint and self-justification was too obvious to be neglected; many harsh measures were to be complained of; much doubtful conduct explained away, or ascribed to self-defence against those whose design it had been to drive him to extremity ; much, too, could be easily distorted; and, as in all such jaleadings, it was easy to omit all that cculd not be excused. The quick, but not HUGH, EARL OF TYRONE. 539 profound appi'eheusion of tlie rash and generous Essex could easily be Vv-on by such a tale told under such circumstances; and it is quite plain from the result that he was completely the dupe of his antago- nist's speciousness and his own generosity. The conference was for a long* time carried on, to the great surprise of the English ; and, as some writers relate the story, Tyrone had come up from the river, and the two hostile leaders for some time continued the conversation as they rode together on the bank. This, if true, exhibits the indiscretion of the queen's lord-lieutenant more strongly than we should venture to describe it. At length Tyrone beckoned to his party, and his brother, Cormac, came forward, accom- panied by M'Guire, MacGennis, O'Quin, &c.; while lord Essex called the eaxd of Southampton, Sir Warham St Leger, Sir Edward Wingfield, &c., and a truce was concluded, which was to be renewed every six weeks, till the '• calends of May,"* either party having the power to break it on fourteen days' notice. It was immediately after this most unfortunate and ill-managed, though, in some respects, inevitable trans- action, that Essex received from the queen the following severe and highly characteristic epistle : — " Elizabeth Regina. — By the Queene. " Right trusty and right well beloved eoscn and councellor, and trusty and well beloved, we greet you well. Having sufficiently declared unto you before this time, how little the manner of your proceedings hath answered either our direction or the world's expectation ; and finding now by your letters, by Cuft'e, a course more strange, if stranger may be, we are doubtful what to prescribe you at any time, or what to build upon by your owne writings to us in any thing. For we have clearly discerned, of late, that you have ever to this hower possessed us with expectations that you would proceede as we directed you; but your actions shew alwales the contrary, though carried in such sort as you were sure we had no time to countermand them. " Before your departure no man's counsell was held sound which perswaded not presently the maine prosecution in Ulster — all was nothing without that, and nothing was too much for that. This drew on the sudden transportation of so many thousands to be carried over with you, as when you arrived we were charged with more than the liste, or which wee resolved to the number of three hundred horse; also the thousand, which were onely to be in pay during the service ia Ulster, have been put in charge ever since the first journey. The pre- tence of which voyage appeareth by your letters, was to doe some present service in the interim, whilst the season grew more commo- dious for the maine prosecution, for the which purpose you did impor- tune, with great earnestnesse, that all manner of provisions might be hastened to Dublin against your returne. " Of this resolution to deferre your going into Ulster, you may well thinke that we would have made you stay, if you had given us more time, or if we could have imagined by the contents of your owne writings that you would have spent nine weekes abroad. At your re- * Moryson. 540 HUGH, EARL OF TYEOXE. turne, when a third part of July was past, and that you had understood our mislike of your former course, and making your excuse of under- taking' it onely in respect of your conformitie to the council's ojiinioii, with great protestations of haste into the north, we received another letter of new reasons to suspend that joui-ney yet a while, and to draw the army into Ophalia ; the fruit whereof was no other at your comming home, but more relations of further miseries of your armv, and greater difficulties to performe the Ulster warre. Then followed from you and the counsell a new demand of two thousand men, to which if we would assent, you would speedily undertake what we had so often commanded. When that was granted, and your going on- Avard promised by divers letters, we received by this bearer now fresh advertisement, that all you can doe is to goe to the frontier, and that you have provided onely for twentie dales' victuals. In which kind of proceeding wee must deale plainly with you and that counsell, that it were more proper for them to leave troubling themselves with instruct- ing us, by what rules our power and their obedience are limited, and to bethink them if the courses have bin onely derived from their counsells, how to answere this part of theirs, to traine us into a new expeuce for one end, and to employ it upon another; to which we could never have assented, if we could have suspected it would have been imdertaken before we heard it was in action. And, therefore, wee doe Avonder how it can be answered, seeing your attempt is not in the cp^pitall tray tor's countrey, that you have increased our list. But it is true, as wee have often said, that we are drawne on to expence by little and little, and by protestations of great resolutions in generalities, till they come to particular execution : of all which courses, whosoever shall examine any of the arguments used for excuse, shall find that your owne proceedings beget the difficulties, and that no just causes doe breed the alteration. If lack of numbers, if sicknesse of the army, be the causes, why was not the action undertaken when the army was in a better state? If winters approach, why were the summer months of July and August lost? If the spring was too severe, and the summer that followed otherwise spent-^if the harvest that succeeded was so neglected, as nothing hath beene done, then surely must we conclude that none of the foure quarters of the yeere will be in season for you and that counsell to agree of Tyrone's jjro- secution, for which all our charge was intended. Further, we require you to consider whether we have not great cause to thinke that the purpose is not to end the warre, when yourself have so often told us, that all the petty undertakings in Leinster, Munster, and Connaught, are but loss of time, consumption of treasure, and waste of our people, until Tyrone himself be first beaten, on whom the rest depend. Doe you not see that he maketh the warre with us in all parts by his minis- ters, seconding all places where any attempts be offered? Who doth not see that, if this course be continued, the warres are like to spend us and our kingdome beyond all moderation, as well as the report of the successe in all parts hath blemished our honour, and encouraged ethers to no small proportion. We know you cannot so much fayle in judgement as not to understand that all the world seeth how time is dallied, though you think the allowance of that counsell, whose sub- HUGH, EAKL OF TYRONE. 541 scriptions are your echoes, should serve and satlsfie us. How would you have derided any man else that should liave followed your steps ? How often have you told us, that others which preceded you had no intent to end the warre? How often have you resolved us, that untill Loug-hfoyle and Ballishannin were planted, there could he no hope of doing" service upon the capitall rebels? We must, therefore, let you know, that as it cannot be ignorance, so it cannot be want of meanes, for you had your asking — you had choice of times — you had power and authority more ample than ever any had, or ever shall have. It may well be judged with how little contentment wee search out this and other errors ; for who doth willingly seeke for that which they are so loth to find — but how should that be hidden which is so pal- pable ? And, therefore, to leave that which is past, and that you may prepare to remedy matters of weight hereafter, rather than to fill your papers with many impertinent arguments, being in your generall letters, savouring still, in many points, of humours that concerne the private of you our lord-liefetenant, we doe tell you plainly, that are of that counsell, that we wonder at your indiscretion, to subscribe to letters which concerne our publike service when they are mixed Avith any man's private, and directed to our counsell table, which is not to handle things of small importance. " To conclude, if you will say though the army be in list twenty thousand, that you have them not, we answer then to our treasurer, that we are ill served ; and that there need not so frequent demands of full pay. If you will say the muster-master is to blame, we much muse then why he is not punished, though say we might to you our generall, if we would ex fuere proprio judlcare, that all defects by ministers, yea though in never so remote garrisons, have been affirmed to us, to deserve to be imputed to the want of care of the generall. For the small proportion you say you carry with you of three thousand five hundred foot, when lately we augmente;! you two thousand more, it is to vis past comprehension, except if be that you have left still too great numbers in unnecessary gar- risons, which doe increase our charge, and diminish your army, which we command you to reform, especially since you, by your continual reports of the state of every province, describe them all to be in worse condition than ever they were before you set foote in that kingdom. So that whosoever shall write the story of this yeere's action, must say that we were at great charges to hazard our kingdom, and you have taken great paines to prepare for many purposes which perish without understanding-. And therefore, because we see now by your own words, that the hope is spent of this year's service upon Tyrone and O'Donell, we do command you and our counsell to fall into present deliberation, and thereupon to send us over in writing a true declaration of the state to which you have brought our kingdome, and what be the effects which this journey hath produced, and why these garrisons which you will plant farre within the land in Brenny and Monaghan, as others, whereof we have written, shall have the same difficulties. " Secondly, we looke to hear from you and them jointly, how you think the remainder of this year shall be employed; in what kind of 542 HUGH, EARL OF TYRONE. warre, and where, and in what numhers; which being- done, and sent us hither in writing with all expedition, you shall then understand our pleasure in all things fit for our service ; until which time we command you to be very careful to meet with all inconveniences that may arise in that kingdom where the ill-affected will grow insolent upon our ill success, and our good subjects grow desperate when they see the best of our preserving them. " We have scene a writing, in forme of a cartel, full of challenges that are impertinent, and of comparisons that are needless, such as hath not been before this time presented to a state, except it be done now to terrify all men from censuring your proceedings. Had it not bin enough to have sent us the testimony of the counsell, but that you must call so many of those that are of slender experience, and none of our counsell to such a form of subscription. Surely howsoever you may have warranted them, wee doubt not but to let them know what belongs to us, to you, and to themselves. And thus expecting your answer wee ende, at our manor of Nonsuch, the fourteenth of Sep- tember, in the one and fortieth yeere of our raigne, 1559." The effect of this letter was the retm-n of lord Essex to complete his tragic history in England. Of this the particulars are known to every one. He left Loftus, archbishop of Dublin, and Sir George Carew lords justices, and departed in the latter end of September. The truce had been entered into by Tyrone, as one of those ordinary- expedients by which he contrived to gain time, without sacrificing the least consideration of his own intentions, and was only, therefore, to be observed till he thought fit to break it. Nor was this powerful rebel without encouragement from the foreign enemies of England, who communicated aid or incentive, according to their characters and the, nature of their designs. From the Pope he received a crown of Phoenix plumes, the worthy reward of the champion of the Roman see. The king- of Spain sent him the less doubtful gift of a sum of money, and a promise of a further supply. He came in consequence to the resolution to renew the war, and easily found a pretext to evade the stipulation of notice: at the same time, he took the title of O'Niall. In January he made the expedition already noticed into Munster, to spirit up the Sugan earl of Desmond, and returned after having suc- cessfully stirred up the southern districts to insurrection. The queen had formerly designed to send over Charles Blount, lord Mountjoy, as lord-lieutenant to Ireland; but was deterred by the re- presentations of lord Essex, who was desirous to secure for himself a post which promised a quick and cheap- won harvest of military honour: with the usual good faith of courtiers, he represented the small mili- tary experience, the bookisli character, the narrow income of his friend; and thus succeeded in his object. But in the moment of dis- grace, his motives were correctly weighed, and lord Mountjoy was now selected by the queen, and landed, together with Sir George Carew, at Howth, on 14tli February. He was but a short time in the country when he perceived the errors of his predecessors, and formed a plan of operation, which though at first difiicult to be carried into effect, had the merit of skilful and judi- cious adaptation to the nature of the country, and the habits of the HUGH, EAKL OF TYEONE. 543 enemy to be opposed. The English troops had latterly been discour- ag-ed by the successes of the Irish, as ^vell as by their peculiar mode oi' warfare, which for the most part consisted in surprise, and ambus- cade, and all the various stratagems of savage war, for which their wild rude confusion of morass and mountain, ravine and forest, aiforded peculiar advantage : their tactics accommodated to these local circum- stances, were as skilful in the bog and wood as those of the English upon the open field. Against these difiiculties lord Mountjoy meditated to commence by cautious operations, of Avhich, for some time, the object should rather be to avoid defeat than to look for victory. Another disadvantage was the desultory and scattered character of the war. The Irish chiefs marching in all directions through the kingdom, moving insurrectionary feeling wherever they came, committing depredations, and gaining- advantages, which, thoug'h severally slight, were aggregately of importance, both as they were thus enabled to force the chiefs to unite with them, and also to divide the English force into detachments ; and by preventing all decisive movements to draw out the war indefinitely. To counteract this, lord Mountjoy planned a circle of garrisons to confine the operations of the principal chiefs, and prevent their junctions and escapes. With this view he placed garrisons in Dundalk, Atherdee, Kells, Newry, and Carlingford, and left Sir Philip Lambert with a thousand men to watch the pale. He was himself, in the meantime, to encounter the rebellion at its head, and lead his army to watch Tyrone in the north. When lord Mountjoy landed in Ireland, the earl of Tyrone was on his visit to Munster. Of this fact the new lord-deputy was apprized, and active steps were taken to cut off his return. Though he had with him a force of five thousand men, it was yet thought that without the Ulstermen, in whom the whole force of the rebellion consisted, he could not become seriously formidable. Under these circumstances Tyrone's position was one of more danger than he himself suspected : the laxity of precaution, the total want of plan, and the facility to enter into illusory treaties and truces, which had hitherto so fatally jirotracted the operations of government, had enabled this alert and sagacious partizan to do as he pleased, and almost unobstructedly to organize the scattered elements of insurrection. To have, under these circumstances, anticipated his danger, would have been to anticipate a change in the management of affairs, which as yet lay concealed in the contriver's breast. Lord Mountjoy saw at once the importance of the incident, and sent directions accordingly to the earl of Ormonde, who lost no time in making the best dispositions to shut up the roads by which the return of the rebel earl could be effected. These efforts were nevertheless frustrated by the great difiiculty of obtaining intelligence and of moving the Irish barons to efficient effort. Though encompassed by the earls of Ormonde and Thomond, and by the commissions of the forces in Munster — with the mayor of Limerick on one coast, and the mayor of Galway on another, to watch their respective posts — Tyrone made his way good and conducted his followers, without obstruction, through the hostile ring; and when Mountjoy received intelligence that he was encompassed on, every side, he was already on the frontier of Ulster. The Irish chiefs through Ireland who were connected with Tyrone, received the greatest discouragement from this forced march. It ma- nifested the weakness which hitherto had been concealed, and materially abated the confidence generally inspired by the ease with which ho had till then trifled with the English administration. His escape on this occasion too much resembled the flight of a discomfited chief. At the end of a forced march, when he had just settled in his quarters for the night, he heard of the advance of the lord-deputy, on which he roused his weary soldiers and again immediately marched away, leaving behind those who could not save themselves by speed from the advanced guard of the enemy. In this incident appears another of the great advantages of the prudence of Mountjoy. He had noticed that one of the main causes of former failures was the quick intelligence by which the rebel chiefs were enabled to anticipate all the movements of the English forces; and he had already, in one of his letters, noticed that the Irish chiefs were almost all secretly disaffected, so that there was a rapid diffusion of this intelligence through the whole country : and thus it was enough to frustrate the best concerted plan if it was allowed to transpire but a few hours before execution. To the observation of this, and the strict secrecy by which it was counteracted, lord Mount- joy's successes were as much due as to any other cause. In sending an account of Tyrone's escape, the lord-deputy trans- mitted also several of his intercepted dispatches, one of which may assist the reader's conception of this extraordinary person and his time. " O'Neale commendeth him unto you Morisli Fitz-Thomas. O'Neale requesteth you in God's name to take part with him, and fight for your conscience and right; and in so doing O'Neale will spend to see you righted in all your affairs, and will help you: and if you come not at O'Neale betwixt this and to-morrow at 12 of the clock and take his part, O'Neale is not beholding to you; and will do to the uttermost of his power to overthrow you, if you come not at farthest by Saturday at one. From Knock Dumayne in Calrie, the 4th of February, 1599- (P. S.) O'Neale requesteth ijou to come speake with him, and doth give you his word that you shall receive no harm, neither in coming from, whether you he friend or not, and bring with you O'lVeale Gerat Fitzgerald. Subscribed " O'Neale."* On the 1 oth of February, Tyrone reached his castle at Dungannon, and called a meeting of the lords of the north to consult how the pro- jected settlement of the English at Loughfoyle might best be pre- vented. It was at this time, in the month of April, that the earl of Ormonde was taken prisoner at a conference with MacRory, (as shall be related,) in such a manner as to lead to some unjust suspicions that he had a private understanding Avith the rebels. On the 5th of May lord Mountjoy advanced into the north, both to * Morvsou. coiifiiie the operations of Tyrone, and to protect the settlement of the garrisons of Loughfoyle. When he arrived at Newry, he learned that the rehel earl had turned from Loughfoyle on receiving information of his advance ; and that, having razed the old fort at Blackwater and burned Armagh, he had occupied the strong fastness of Loughlucken, where he entrenched himself strongly, and fortified a space of nearly three miles in extent. A chief object of Tyrone was to prevent the junction of the earl of Southampton with the deputy; for which pur- pose he had taken means to obtain information of the time when he was expected. As this was the way by which he must needs arrive, there was every hope of his being cut off" in this most dangerous pass. ]\Iountjoy had heard of the inquiries of the rebels, and had foreseen tlie danger; to meet it he drew toward the pass, and detached captain Blany with 500 foot and 50 horse Avith orders to secure a safe jiosition on the road, and send to hasten the movements of Southampton. Blany, leaving his foot at the Faghard, took on his horse and reached the earl, whom he informed of the nature and objects of Tyrone's position, and told him that the deputy would await him on the same day at two o'clock, at the road of Moyry, at the place where the danger lay. In the midst of this dangerous pass there was a ford, called the Four-mile-water, surrounded on every side with woods. Here Tyrone posted a strong body of men, who filled these woods on either side. Beyond, on a neighbouring hill, lord Mountjoy lay with his troops. To reach them it was essential to clear this passage of danger. South- ampton accordingly advanced, and captain Blany, dividing his men into three companies, went into the river, and crossed the lord, when they saw the enemy awaiting them, and placed to great advantage. On tliis the English charged, and the lord-deputy at the same moment ap- peared advancing from the opposite side. After a few discharges of nmsquetry, the Irish gave way, and, passing through the thickets, reached the other side, at the rear of Southampton's party. Captain Blany then posted himself to the right, so as to cover the passage of the carriages ; and the lord-deputy, pressing into the woods on the left, occupied the rebels in a hot skirmish, till all were safely over the pass. Repelled on each side, the rebels made next an impetuous attack on lord Southampton's rear, but were soon repulsed; and the English, having thus completely cleared this dangerous pass, were ordered by the deputy to march on. It will be needless to remark to the intelli- gent reader, that this was one of those perilous occasions in which the English had latterly met with the most fatal repulses, by trusting too much to that superiority of arms, which had, till of late, rendered tactics a matter of less essential moment. The Irish, at all times for- midable in this war of bogs and fastnesses, were now become alarm- ingly so, from the advantages of arms and discipline, which, under a leader like Tyrone, had seriously reduced the odds against them. During this transaction, the earl was himself stationed, with a more considerable force, at a. little distance, to wait the moment of advan- tage, and seize on the indiscretion of the enemy; but it is one of the proofs (»f the skill and coolness of Mountjoy that no such occasion l^resented itself. Many were slain on both sides. I. 2 M Jr. 546 HUGH, EARL OF TYRONE. Lord Blountjoy now drew off his forces, and returned to Newry. Here he received mtelligence which rendered his presence necessary in Leinster, and also the satisfactory information that his garrisons at Loug'hfoyle were settled ; in that quarter, his captains, under Sir Arthur Chichester, governor of Carrickfergus, had taken possession of Newcastle from O'Doherty, whose country they wasted ; he was also apprized that they were occupied in fortifying about Derry, and that great numbers of rebels had passed, with their cattle and goods, into Scotland, from whence it was their hope to obtain aid. It became also apparent that the noi'thern rebels were beginning to be shaken in their confidence by these vigorous and systematic regulations, and were either returning, or affecting to return, to their loyalty. In INIay the lord-deputy, leaving the north thus shut in, returned to Dublin, to make effectual dispositions for the security of the pale. Of the transactions in this quarter we cannot here say much without un- warrantable digression. While in Leinster, the lord-deputy had to contend with the usual confusions of petty interests — the cabals and misrepresentations of all who did not comprehend the interest of the countx'Y, or had their own to press ; he wrote to the secretary a fair and full exposition of the situation of affairs, and of the progress he had made. It was indeed important. Having complained that he found it would be an easier undertaking to subdue the rebels than to govern the English subjects, he stated, that having found the army completely disorganized, he had given it form and combination ; it was disheartened, and he had raised its drooping and desponding spirit into courage and military ardour ; he had preserved it from all dis- grace, and restored its reputation, on which so much must depend ; and that it was now by these means disposed once more to undei'take, and likely to perform, services of an arduous and extensive character. He also mentioned that the hope of foreign succour was the main reliance of the Irish rebels ; and entreated that unless the English government had some sure information that no assistance was to be sent over from Spain, that they would strengthen his army with reinforcements, which must be necessary should the Spaniards come over, and which, should they not, would soon end the rebellion. To guard against that danger he requested that some English vessels of war should be stationed off the north-western coast; while a few small sail boats could easily inter- cept all attempts to bring over ammunition from Scotland. In the meantime Tyrone was nearly reduced to inactivity by the military circle which watched his movements in the north. Several small attempts, which were probably designed to try the way, were made, and failed. Lord Mountjoy was thus enabled to give his atten- tion to the troubles of the pale ; and his efforts were much required. In the districts of Carlow and Kildare, into which he led 560 men, he met with rough resistance, and had a horse shot under him in a skirmish, in which thirty-five of the rebels were killed. On the 14th of September, the lord-deputy again tvu'ned his face to the north. Among the many improvements he had introduced, a prin- cipal one was the disregard of weather or season. The climate of Ireland, since then ameliorated by the cutting away of its forests, the draining of marshes, and perhaps by many other causes, was then far HUGH, EARL OF TYRONE. 547 more severe than will now be readily conceived. Against such an evil the Eng-lish mig-Iit be secured by expedients, but the habits of the natives were such as to admit of far less resource; neither their imper- fect clothing, nor their methods of supply or of encampment vfera suited to afford any adequate provision to meet the hardships, priva- tions, and exigencies of a winter campaig-n. On the 15th, lord Mountjoy again put his troops into motion, he encamped on the hill of Faghard, three miles beyond Dundalk, and lay there till the 9th of October; during which time he lived in a tent which was kept wet by the continual rain, and frequently blown down by the equinoctial tempests. Not far off lay Tyrone in the fast- ness of the Moyrigh, strongly entrenched as well by art as by the nature of the place. The difficulty of these positions, and the skill of Tyrone's defence, are well illustrated by the pass which Mountjoy describes as " one of the most difficult passages of Ireland, fortified with good art and admirable industry." Tyrone availing himself of a natural chain of impassable heights and marshy hollows, connected them by broad and deep trenches, flanked with strong and high piles built with massive rocks, and stockaded with close and firm pallisades. These well-contrived impediments were protected by forces numeri- cally stronger than those which could be opposed to them; and were rendered additionally effective by the great rains which flooded the .streams and quagmires, and contracted the lines of defence to a fev/ dangerous points. For some time there were almost daily skirmishes in which the English had mostly the advantage ; till at last lord Mountjoy ordered an attack on their entrenchments, which being for two days successfully followed up, Tyrone evacuated the fastness, and reluctantly left a clear road for the English general, who immediately levelled the trenches, and caused the woods on each side of this dan- gerous pass to be cut down : and passing through with his army came on to Newry, where he was for some time detained for want of provi- sions; but, in the beginning of November, was enabled to proceed to Armagh. In the neighboui'hood of Armagh lay Tyrone, entrenched amid the surrounding bogs with a skill not be countervailed by all the prudence and tact of his antagonist. Many skirmishes took place, but nothing of a decisive character seemed likely soon to occur. It would be entering- farther into detail than our space allows to trace with a minute pen the numerous slight encounters, the petty negotiations with minor chiefs, the captures, the cessions, or the par- dons and proclamations which fill the interval of many mouths. If we would compare the conduct of the two eminent individuals wdio are prominently before us, the skill and talent of each must appear to great advantage. Each was pressed by trying difficulties of no ordinary kind in Irish warfare. Tyrone, cooped in within the mountains and marshes of the north by a system of military positions hitherto unknown in Ireland, constrained and checked on every side, could not still be hurried into any imprudence, or forced into any risk by the vigilant and skilful leader who had succeeded in thus controlling and isolating the turbulent elements of a national insurrection, which had hitherto baffled the power of England. Mountjoy had not only thus constrained the efforts of a dangerous foe; but the means by which he had effected 548 HUGH, ExVRL OF TYRONE. this purpose had another equally important operation. One of the most prevailing' causes of failure had hitherto arisen from the tardy, expen- sive, and exposed operation of marching" an army from place to place, by which it was impossible to act with the secrecy necessary to prevent every movement from being foreseen and guarded against, nor to accom- modate the marches of so expensive an instrument to the more rapid and unencumbered marches of an enemy that seemed to start up with an endless growth in every quarter. Instead of this, by the efficient distribution of his forces in those stationary points from which they could with facility be collected, Mountjoy was enabled to traverse the country in person by journeys comparatively rapid and with a force comparatively small; so that an expedition involved little more prejoa- ration, publicity, or expense than the journey of an individual. By this he soon contrived to pacify or awe into submission every county but Tyrone. The rebel earl still held his ground, and fencing off the operations of his antagonist with skill and courage, awaited patiently the expected aid from Spain. The situation of Tyrone was however becoming monthly more haz- ardous and distressing. Governing his motions with the most consum- mate tact, so as to avoid the hazard of an action, he could not yet avoiti a frequent repetition of skirmishes in which his men were uniformly worsted. Of these the effect was doubly hui-tful to his strength ; it gave confidence to the enemy, and caused an extensive falling off" of the Irish chiefs, who presently began to sue for pardons and offer sub- missions in every quarter. A skirmish near Carlingford, in the middle of November, 16U0, gradually increasing to a battle, was considered to have first given this dangerous turn to his affairs, and awakened a general conviction that he could not holdout through the winter: and this general impression is amply confirmed by all the informa- tion we have been enabled to attain. The lord-deputy was contracting the circle of his operations; he was fast reducing Tyrone's means of subsistence by laying Avaste his country, while, with a view to this expedient, he had arranged to be supplied from England with sus- tenance for the garrisons. Lastly, and most to be dreaded, anothei" pai"t of lord Mountjoy's plan was becoming fast apparent — the resolution not to intermit his operations during the winter. It becomes, indeed, a matter of curious and interesting speculation to witness the obstinate perseverance under such apparently hopeless circumstances, of a chief so sagacious as Tyrone; but this apparent state of things was softened by many illusory circumstances of which the entire force could not then be felt: no sagacity is equal to the full interpretation of a conjuncture wholly new. The surrounding districts had begun to show signs of weariness, and numerous chiefs despairing of the prospects of rebellion had submitted; but Tyrone was aware that the submission of an Irish chief was but a subterfuge in danger, and that the slightest gleam of a favourable change would rouse rebellion from province to province with simultaneous vigour and effect. He had seen and felt the capricious relaxation of the queen's anger, after the heaviest denunciations, on the slightest seemings of submission. Such had been the history of Ireland for centuries ; and he confidently expected supplies and aid from Spain, which should be enough to turn the scale ni his favour. HUGH, EARL OF TYEONE. 549 and, at the least, restore him to a condition to treat on more advan- tageous terms for pardon. In the commencement of 1601, when M'Guire, with many other powerful Irish chiefs. l;ad submitted, when many had taken arms for the English, and when the Munster rebellion had been completely put down ; reports of the promised succour from Spain became more fr'^quent, and various accounts were transmitted from her majesty's foreign ministers, of definite preparations on the part of Spain, for the equipment and transport of forces destined for Ireland. On this subject, the chiefs also who came in for pardon had all their facts to tell. Hugh Boy informed Sir Henry Dockwra that the king of Spain had pi'omised to invade Ireland in the course of the year, with 6000 men, who were to be landed in some Munster port. Every week confirmed these reports with fresh Intelligence from Calais and from Flanders. In Waterford some seamen made their depositions that they were recently pressed into the service of the king of Spain, and sent to Lisbon with bread for 3000 men who were lying there to be shipped for Ireland. They added the report, that an agent from Tyrone was then at the Spanish court, who represented that his master could subsist no longer without speedy aid. Matters were still advancing by a tedious progress to a termination, which must have appeared to depend entirely on the truth of these last mentioned reports. Lord Mountjoy's operations had the purpose and intent hitherto rather of shutting in the rebel earl, of compelling him to exhaust his resources, and of drawing- away all hope of assistance from the Irish chiefs, than any direct design of bringing him to action. The result of the most complete defeat could not have had the desired effect, until the resources of Tyrone should be thus broken down, so as to allow no hope of being enabled again to collect an army. It is for this reason that although this peculiar warfare was productive of numerous incidents, they are seldom such as to warrant detail. Scarcely a movement could anywhere be made, but the first wood approached poured out a sudden volley from its invisible marksmen, or the rude iigures were seen rapidly appearing and disappearing among- the leai'y concealments. Amongst these incidents, we may select some, rather for specimens than as carrying on our narration. For this purpose we extract a page of Mory son's Itinerarij on the 13th and l6th of Jidy, 1601. Moryson was brother to Sir Richard Moryson, then serving under Mountjoy, and afterwards vice-president of Munster: he was himself a fellow of the University of Cambridge, from which lie had leave to travel for three years ; at the end of which term he resigned his fellowship to come to Ireland, where he was made secre- tary to lord Mountjoy, and thus became both the eye-witness and liistorian of this war. " The 1 6th day the lord-deputy drew out a regiment of Irish, com- manded by Sir Christopher St Laurence, and passing- the Blackwater, marched to Benburb, the old house of Shane O'Neale, lying on the left hand of our camp, at the entrance of Great Wood. Their out men made a stand, in a faire greene meadow, having our camp and the plaines behind them, and the wood on both sides and before them. The rebels drew in crreat multitudes to these woods. Here 550 HUGH, EARL OF TYRONE. we in the campe, being ourselves in safety, had the pleasure to have the full view of an hot and long skirmish, our loose wings sometimes beating the rebels on all sides into the woods, and sometimes being driven by them back to our colours in the middest of the meadow, where as soone as our horse charged, the rebels presently ran backe, this skirmish continuing with like varietie some three howers ; for the lord-deputie, as he saw the numbers of the rebels encrease, so drew other regiments out of the campe to second the fight. So that at last the rebell had drawne all his men together, and we had none but the by -guards left to save-guard the campe, all the rest being drawne out. Doctor Latwar, the lord-deputies chaplaine, not content to see the fight with us in safetie, (but as he had formerly done) affecting some singularitie of forwardnesse, more than his place re- quired, had passed into the meadow where our colours stood, and there was mortally wounded with a bullet in the head, upon which he died next day. Of the English not one more was slaine, onely captaine Thomas Williams, his legge was broken, and two other hurt, but of the Irish on our side, twenty sixe were slaine, and seventy-five were hurt. And those Irish being such as had been rebels, and were like upon the least discontent to turne rebels, and such as were kept in pay rather to keepe them from taking part with the rebels than any service they could doe us, the death of those unpeaceable swordsmen, though falling on our side, yet was rather gaine than losse to the commonwealth. Among the rebels, Tyrone's secretary, and one chiefe man of the O'Hagans, and (as we credibly heard) farre more than two hundred kerne were slaine. And lest the disparitie of losses often mentioned by me should savour of a partiall pen, the reader must know, that besides the fortune of the warre turned on our side too-ether with the courage of the rebels abated, and our men heartened bv successes, we had plentie of powder, and sparing not to shoote at randome, might well kill many more of them, than they ill-furnished of powder, and commanded to spare it, could kill of ours."* At the time of the last incident, the lord-deputy was engaged in rebuilding the important fortress of Blackwater, which appears to have so long been a main object of contest, as it w^as the key to Dun- gannon, the hitherto inaccessible stronghold and dwelling of Tyrone. To this latter position therefore the earliest attention of both parties Avas at the time bent — Mountjoy to approach, and Tyrone to defend it. Meanwhile, the English were mainly engaged in cutting down the corn in every quarter round the county, and in preparing their garri- sons for the winter's war. They performed these important operations in tranquillity; so much had fallen the courage of the Irish, who now began to be sensible that the skirmishes in which they had so freely indulged, were productive of no advantage save to their enemy. This desultory warfare was not however felt to lead to results as decisive as the lord-deputy looked for with considerable anxiety, at a time when his already insufficient means of prolonging the war, and the slowness and scantiness of his supplies made progress, of more than ordinary im- portance. There was little to be effected against an enemy which melted * Moryson, HUGH, EARL OF TYRONE. 551 away like mists before the attack, yet still ever hovered round to watch for tlie moment of advantage, and render every movement harassing if not insecure. The principal objects were to obtain possession of their fastnesses and lurking-places, and to scatter and dissolve them by de- priving them of the means of subsistence; for this, it was the imme- diate aim of lord Mountjoy to cut down their corn, which he took all possible means to effect. Nor was there any great obstacle to be feared, except immediately about Dungannon, to which the English could not approach. But lord Mountjoy had by considerable diligence discovered a new pass to Dungannon, to facilitate which he cut down a large wood, which opened the way over a plain at the distance of about four miles. By this means he reached a river, on which by building a bridge and fort, he expected to obtain complete possession of Tyrone's country ; or, as he represents in his letter to the council, ' that this would cut the archtraytor's throat ;" and in another letter to Cecil, " that if we can but build a fort, and make a passage over the river, we shall make Dungannon a centre, whither we may from all parts di-aw together all of her Majesty's forces." The progress of this desultory state of affairs now became embar- rassed by additional difficulties. The report of the intended invasion from Spain, while yet uncertain as to its force and destination, became an object of alarm; to meet this fear, Mountjoy was urged to draw off a large portion of his troops towards the south, where their landing was apprehended. Against such a coui'se he strongly protested, ob- serving that the landing-place of the Spaniards could be by no means certain, and that he might find himself as far from the point of danger wherever he should march to, as where he was then stationed. His troops he observed were not 1500 effective men, with which he might easily retain the positions of which he was then possessed, and pro- secute the advantage they gave him. He thought that if he should succeed in completely breaking down Tyrone's strength, which he ex- pected to effect during the winter, that the king of Spain should not have it in his power to cause any very dangerous distm-bance in Ireland.* But while the lord-deputy was thus industriously engaged in ar- rangements to prosecute to an end the war against Tyrone, the rumours of the Spanish invasion began to grow still more frequent, and to assume more the character of certainty ; and as all indications seemed pointing to the south, it became a question of no small moment and perplexity to provide against the new emergency, without relinquish- ing the advantages which had been gained in Ulster. Should the Spaniards land in any of the harbours along the south-western coast, the motions of Tyrone would obtain increased importance; and it could not but appear in a high degree dangerous to relax the military chain, by which he was confined to the north. The real strength of the English army was hardly equal to these multiplied emergencies; the demand of numerous garrisons and the waste of war had been too much supplied by Irish soldiers. The expenses allowed for the supply of the army and forts had been exceeded, and all arrangements were carried into effect against every conceivable disadvantage. * Mountjoy's letter to Sir Robert Cecil. 552 HUGH, EARL OF TYRONE. To make the best of these untoward circumstances the lord- deputy resolved to strengthen his garrisons, and provide effectually for the safety of Ulster ; and then to lead the rest of his army into Con- naught, and to hold a council on the way at Trim. With this view he applied to the English council to forward the necessary succours and provisions to Gal way and Limerick; and to send a good supply of arms and ammunition to the garrisons of Ulster, that they might be preserved for the protection of the north, and be found in a fit condition for his summer campaign in that quarter. In the same communication, the lord-deputy informs the council, that many of his Irish captains had shown signs of wavering in consequence of the reports of the Spaniards ; and that they had received from Tyrone the most urgent messages, assuring them that if they should further delay to join him, it would be too late, and he would refuse tliem after a very little. Notwith- standing which, some of them assured the lord-deputy of their fidelity, though their condition in his army was, in his own words, " no better than horseboys."* On the 2iJth, Lord Mountjoy arrived at Trim, and a council was held, of which it was the chief olject to provide for the defence of the pale, to molest which tlie rebel earl had sent captain Tyrrel, a par- tisan leader of great celebrity at the time. To meet this danger it was resolved to strengthen the Leinster troops with such forces as could be spared from the Ulster army: and the lord-deputy deter- mined to conduct them in person, until the landing of the Spaniards should be ascertained. This event was not now long a matter of doubt. On the third of September, letters from Sir Robert Cecil informed the lord-deputy that the Spanish fleet had appeared off Scilly, to the number of forty-five vessels, of which seventeen were men-of-war, and the remaining vessels of large burthen, containing 6000 soldiers. In the same letter, the lord-deputy was desired to demand whatsoever forces and supplies should appear to be needful, and direct the places to which they should be sent. The full confirmation of the arrival of the Spaniards speedily followed. The lord-deputy was in Kilkenny, whither he had gone to consult with Sir George Carew and the earl of Ormonde, when he received the account that their fleet had entered the harbour of Kin- sale, by letters from Sir George Wilmot and the mayor of Cork. On this information, the lord- dej)uty resolved to meet them with all the force he could muster from every quarter; justly considering, that on their fate must depend the entire result of the war. He accordingly sent to draw oft" the companies from Armagh, Navan, and the pale, into Munster: and, accompanied by the lord-president Carew, he travelled thither with all speed. He soon ascertained that the Spaniards which had taken possession of Kinsale, were 5000 men under the command of Don Juan D'Aguila; and that they had brought with them a large supply of arms, as the provision for a general rising of the people, which they had been led to expect ; they had also 1500 saddles for their cavalry; and expressed an intention not to keep within their * Lord Mountjoy 's letter. Moryson. HUGH, EARL OF TYRONE. 553 fortit] cations, but to meet the English in the fiehl. Among other steps, they sent out a friar, with bulls and indulgences from the pope, to stir up the people in every quarter. They also caused the report to be spread that their xiumber amounted to 10,000, with 2000 more, which had been separated from, the fleet, and were since landed at Baltimore. On his arrival, the Spanish commander sent back all his ships but twelve — a step which strongly marks the confidence of his expectations. He despatched messengers to Tyrone and O'DonelL to urge their speedy approach, and demanded a suj^ply of horses, and of cattle for provision, assuring them that he had other stores sufficient for eighteen months, and treasure in abundance. He also sent ovit his emissaries into every quarter to secure the assistance of mercenary bands and partisan leaders, soldiers of fortune whose entire dependence was the sword — a class then numerous in Ireland. The confidence of the English commander was no less, but he was still dependent on the speed and efficiency of the supplies and reinforcements for which he had applied. These had not yet reached him from Dublin, but it was plain that further delay was dangerous ; and on the 16th October, without his artillery, anununition, or provision, he marched from Cork, and on the 17th instant arrived at Kinsale, and encamped under the hill of Knockrobin, within half a mile of the town. Here they lay for some days, unable to execute any military operation, from the want of implements and artillery. During- this time several skirmishes took place, in all of which the Spaniards were worsted and driven within their walls. In the letter in which these circumstances are reported by the lord-deputy, it strongly appears how much anxious suspense must have attended such a situation. The seemingly j)remature advance of an army thus un- provided, was hurried on by the a^jprehension of the effect which their inaction might produce on the Irish of Munster. The rising of the uncertain multitude of the surrounding districts, Avho watched all that passed with no uninterested eye, the arrival of Tyrone, and what they still more feared, of fresh supplies from Spain, might any or all of them happen while the English lay at this heavy disadvantage. To these embarrassing considerations may be added, that In point of fact, the Spaniards Avithin the town were stronger in numbers and ap- pointments of every kind, with every advantage also that could be derived from their possession of a strong town and of the castle of Rincorran on the other side of the harbour. Were they to make one vigorous effort, and to succeed in breaking through the lines of the little army that lay before them, without any means of resistance but the personal bravery of its ranks, the odds must from that moment become Incalculably great In their favour ; the possession of a few towns would have raised all Ireland in their support; and it Is not easy to see by what means short of an army of thirty thousand men and a re-conquest of the Island, the consequences could be retrieved. The English army, besides its unarmed state, was otherwise in the lowest condition, having been sadly thinned by sickness, and the wr.sie of continual skirmishes. The absolute necessity of maintaining so many fortified pkecr;, left but a comparatively small force at the dis- 554 HUGH, EAEL OF TYRONE. posal of lord Mountjoy. One fact appears from the list of the Eii"-- lish army at this time, by which it appears that of sixteen thousana foot and eleven hundred and ninety-eight horse, the lord-deputy could only lead six thousand nine hundred foot, and six hundred and eleven horse against the enemy.* The disposal of the whole army of Ireland, the seven and twentieth of October, 1601: — Left at Loughfoyle. Sir Hem'y Dockwra, 50; Sir John Bolles, 50; — ^horse, 100 Sir Henry Dockwra, 200; Sir Matthew Morgan, 150; caj)taine Badly, 150; Sir John Bolles, 150; captaine Crington, 100; captaine Vaug- han, 100; captaine Bingley, 150; captaine Coath, 100; captaine Basset, 100; captaine Button, 100; captaine Floyd, 100; captaine Oram, 100; captaine Alford, 100; captaine Pinner, 100; captaine Winsor, 100; captaine Sydley, 100; captaine Atkinson, 100; captaine Digges, 100; captaine Brooke, 100; captaine Stafford, 100; captaine Orreil, 100; captaine Leigh, 100; captaine Sidney, 100; captaine Gower, 150; captaine Willes, 150; captaine W. N. 100; — foote 3000. Horse left at Carrichfergus. Sir Arthur Chichester, governour, 200; Sir Foulke Conway, 150; captaine Egerton, 100; captaine Norton, 100; captaine Billings, 150; captaine Philips, 150 Foote 850. Foote left in Secale. Sir Richard Moryson, the governour's company under his lieutenant, himselfe attending the lord-deputy at Kinsale, 150. Horse left in northern garrisons, 100. Foote in north garrisons. At Newrle, Sir Thomas Stafford, 200 ; at Dundalke, captaine Freck- leton, 100; at Carlingford, captaine Hansard, 200; at Mount Norrey's, captaine Atherton, 100; at Armagh, Sir Henrie Davers, under his lieutenant, himself being at Kinsale, 150; at Blackwater, captaine Williams, 150 Foote 800. Horse left in the pale, and places adjoyning. In Kilkenny, the earl of Ormonde, 50; in Kildare, the eai*le of Kildare, 50; in Westmeath, the lord Dunsany, 50; in Lowth, Sir Garret Moore, 25 — Horse 175. Foote in the pale, (that is to say) At Kilkenny, Carlogh, Nass, Leax, and Ophalia, Dublin, Kildare, O' Carrol's countrie, Kelles and Westmeath — Foote 3150. * The curious reader \vin be gratified by a more distinct view of the composi- tion and distribution of this army, as contained in one of those old lists of which Moryson gives many. They are the more valuable, as exhibiting in a single view the principal places then garrisoned by the English. For this reason, we give one at length. HUGH, EAEL OF TYRONE. 555 Horse left in Connaught. The earle of Clanricai-de, 50; captaine Wayman, 12, — Horse 62. Foote left in Coniiaug-ht, 1150. Totall of Horse, 587. Totall of Foote, 9100. The Lyst of the army with his lordship at Kinsale. Tlie Old Mounster Lyst. Sir George Carew, lord-president, 50; Sir Anthony Cooke, 50: captaine Fleming, 25; captaine Taffe, 50 Hoi'se 175. Foote of the Old Lyst. The lord-president, 150; the earle of Thoinond, 150; lord Andley, 150; Sir Charles Wihiiot, 150; master treasurer, 100; captaine Roger Harvey, 150; captaine Thomas Spencer, 150; captaine George Flower, 100; captaine William Sacy, 100; captaine Garret Dillon, 100; cap- taine Nuse, 100; Sir Richard Percy, 150; Sir Francis Berkeley, 100; captaine Power, 100; a company for the earle of Desmonde's use, 100. New companies sent into Mounster lately, which arrived and were put into pay the fourth of September past. The lord-president added to his company, 50; the earle of Thomond added to his company, 50; Sir George Thorneton, 100; captaine Skipwith, 100; captaine Morris, 100; captaine Kemish, 100; captaine North, 100; captaine Owstye, 100; captaine Fisher, 100; captaine Yorke, 100; captaine Hart, 100; captaine Liste, 100; captaine Ravenscroft, 100; captaine P.,ichard Hansard;, 100 ; captaine George Greame, 100 ; captaine Yelverton, 100; captaine Panton, 100; captaine Cullem, 100; captain Habby, 100; captaine Gowen Harny, 100; captaine Coote, 100. Horse brought from the north and the pale to Kinsale. The lord-deputie's troope, 1 00 ; Sir Henrie Davers, 1 00 ; master- marshall, 50; Sir C. St Lawrence, 25; Sir H. Harrington, 25; Sir Edward Harbert, 12; Sir William W^arren, 25; Sir Richard Greame, 50; Sir Oliver St John's, 25; Sir Francis Rush, 12; captaine G. Greame, 12 Horse, 436. Foote that Sir John Berkeley brought from the borders of Con- naught to Kinsale, 950. Foote brovgJit out of the pale by master-marshall, and from the ■noiiJtern gwi-risons by Sir Henry Davers to Kinsale. The lord-deputie's guard, 200; master-marshall, 150; Sir Benjamin Berry, 150; Sir William Fortescue, 150; Sir James Fitz-piers, 150; Sir Thomas Loftus, 100; Sir Henrie Foilyot, 150; captaine Blaney, 150; captaine Bodley, 150; captaine Rotheram, 150; captaine Roper, 150; captaine Roe, 150; captaine Trevor, 100; captaine Ralph Con- stable, 100 Foote 2000. At Kinsale, Horse 611. Foote 6900. Totall of the whole army in Ireland: — Horse 1198. Foote 16000 Providentially they escaped these perils; the Spaniards were perliapg not fully aware of their advantages in this interval, and were also dis- 556' HUGH, EARL OF TYEO^^E. couraged by the ill success which attended their sallies. On the 27th, the English received their own artillery and a supply of ammunition, and were thus enabled to assume the oflFensive. The lord-deputy began by fortifying his camp, which had hitherto been exposed to the nightly attacks of the enemy. The next consideration was the great disad- vantages to be apprehended from the castle of Rincorran, on the side of the harbour opposite to the tovv'n, which Don Juan had also seized and garrisoned with upwards of 150 Spaniards and as many Irish. While they continued to hold it, it was evident enough that no supplies or reinforcements from England could be received in the harbour; and it was therefore judged .expedient to commence an attack upon it without delay. For this purpose a small battery of two culverins was mounted against it. The Spaniards fully aware of the real importance of the castle, now made the most continued and energetic efforts for its relief both by sea and land. On the water, their boats were beaten back by captain Button's ship. By land several lively skirmishes began. The Spaniards brought out a small cannon, and began to fire upon the English camp : a shot entering the paymaster's tent, which lay next to that of lord Mountjoy, smashed a barrel of coin, and damaged much other pro- perty; all the balls being- directed at the lord-deputy's quarter, and most of them striking close to his tent. On the 31st, two culverins and a cannon played against the castle wall incessantly. While the attention of the English was thus en- gaged, the Spaniards put out a fev/ boats from the town for a feint, and sent a party of five hundi-ed men along the harboui", on the pre- text of covering the boats, but in reality to surprise a party of the English who were stationed on the shore between the town and castle. They were first noticed by several straggling parties and groupes of English who were loitering or standing at their posts about the camji. All these scattered soldiers collected quickly of their own accord towards the enemy, and were quickly joined by an hundred men sent out by Sir Oliver St John, under captain Roe and another officer: Sir Oliver himself followed with thirty men. A spirited but short skirmish was the consequence ; the Spaniards stood but for a few seconds to the charge, and retreated precipitately on their trenches, where they had placed a strong party as a reserve ; here the combat was fiercely renewed, and numbers fell in the trenches. Sir Oliver received many pikes on his target, and one tlsrust in the thigh; but this gallant officer, one of the most distinguished in the British army for personal valour, on this occasion attracted the notice of both parties by his single exploits, bearing back and striking down his numerous opponents who broke and turned before him. Lord Audley was shot in the thigh: other officers, and about fourteen men, were wounded and slain, and about seventy of the enemy, of whom many were taken with much arms; among which were " divers good rapiers," — a weapon of great value, for which Spain was then celebrated, being no other than the small sword, which about that time became an important part of the gentleman's costume. About six o'clock In the evening, the effects of the little three- gimned battery began to be felt in the castle; and a treaty commenced avA was kept up during- tlie nig-lit and next day, for a surrender. The Spaniards desired to be allowed to enter Kinsale with their arms and baggage, and were peremptorily refused ; and several further proposals were in like manner rejected. Late on the next day, the Spanish commander, Alfiero, proposed first that the garrison should be allowed to enter Kinsale unarmed; and when this was re- fused, that he alone might be allowed to enter. All conditions being refused short of surrender at discretion, Alfiero resolved to hold out to extremity; this, however, his people would not submit to, and a surrender was made on the sole condition that Alfiero should be per- mitted to surrender his sword to the lord- deputy himself. The Span- iards to the number of eighty-six were then disarmed in the castle, and sent off as prisoners to Cork ; about thirty had been slain in the siege : the Irish had contrived to escape in the darkness of the previous night. Lord Mountjoy was by no means in condition for an attack upon Kinsale, but thought it expedient still as much as possible to keep up some appearance of preparatory movements. He received at this time letters from the queen, with accounts of coming supplies and reinforce- ments to the amount of five thousand men. One of the queen's letters on this occasion is amusingly characteristic. " Since the braineless humour of unadvised assault hath seized on the hearts of our causeless foes. We doubt not but their gaine will be their bane, and glory their shame, that ever they had thought thereof. And that your humour agrees so rightly with ours. We think it most fortunately happened in your rule, to show the better whose you are and what you be, as your ov/n handwrit hath told us of late, and do beseech the Almighty power of the Highest so to guide your hands, so that nothing light in vain ; but to prosper your heed, that nothing- be left behind that might avail your praise : and that yourself, in venturing too far, make not to the foe a prey of you. Tell our army from us that they make full account that every hundred of them will beat a thousand; and every thousand, theirs doubled. I am the bolder to pronounce it in His name that hath ever prospered my righteous cause, in which I bless them all. And putting you in the first place, i end, scribbling in haste,* "Your loving soveraine, " Eliz. Regina." On the 5th of November, four ships came from Dublin with sup- plies; and at the same time accoimts were received of the approach of the confederate Irish under Tyrone and O'Donell. It was therefore determined in council to fortify the camp strongly toward the north; and on the day following the completion of that work, (the 7th,) the lord-president left the camp with two regiments, to endeavour to in- tercept the enemy on the borders of the province. On the eighth, thirteen ships were seen, which were soon after ascertained to carry a reinforcement of one thousand foot and some * Morysuii. horse under the earl of Thomond. But the Spaniards had discovered the absence ot' lord Mountjoy and his party, and thought to avail themselves of it by a strong sortie. For this, they marched out in force, and lined their trenches with strong bodies : they then sent for- ward a well-armed party toward the camp. The English detached a sufficient party against this, but at the same time sent out another armed with fire-arms to a bushy hill extending towards Rincorran castle, to take the trenches by a flanking fire, while they rush- ing out from their entrenchment, repelled the enemy before their camp ; the hill detachment at the same time drove their reserve from the trenches before the town, so that when the retreating party came up and thought to make a stand, they found themselves without the expected support, and were charged with such fury by the English, that they fell into entire confusion and left numbers dead in the trenches. Don .Juan was much irritated by this repulse, and praised the bravery of the English, while he reproached his own men with cowardice, and committed their leader to prison. He then issued a proclamation, that from that time no man should, on pain of death, leave his ground in any service until taken away by his officer ; and that even if his musket were broken, he should fight to death with his s word- On the 12th, the English army received the cheering and satisfac- tory information of the landing of the supplies and succours from Eng- land. Their transports had put in at Waterford, Youghal, Castle- haven and Cork ; which latter harbour Sir R. Liveson, admiral, and vice-admiral Preston entered with ten ships of war, bearing 2000 foot, with artillery and ammunition. To these the lord-deputy sent to desire that they would sail into Kinsale harbour, as the artillery could not otherwise be easily or speedily brought into the camp. Though these supplies were far below the exigency, they yet relieved the English from a position of very great danger, in which they lay almost helpless, and quite incapable of offensive operations. The firm and resolute energy of Mountjoy appears very prominently in the active series of operations which he now commenced and conducted with the most consummate prudence, and unwearied perseverance and courage, under circumstances in every way the most disheartening. Imme- diately before the arrival of the English fleet, his army had been for some time reduced to every extremity of suffering, which a body of men can be conceived to bear without disorganization. During this interval, a letter of the deputy's to Cecil, enables us to catch a distant gleam of his personal character and conduct, which must gratify the reader. " Having been up most of the night, it groweth now about four o'clock in the morning, at which time I lightly chuse to visit our guards myself ; and am now going about that business, in a morning as cold as a stone and as dark as pitch. And I pray, sir, think Avhether this be a life that I take much delight in, who heretofore in England, when I have had a suit to the queen, could not lie in a tent in the summer, nor watch at night till she had supped?"* It is ob- served of this nobleman by Moryson, who was about his person, that * Lord Mountjoy's letter to Cecil, Moryson. he never knew a person go so warmly clad in every season of the year. The description of Moryson gives a lively picture of the man of his time, but it is too long for our present purpose. While commanding in Ireland, besides his silk stockings, " he wore under boots, another pair, of woollen or worsted, with a pair of high linen boot hose ; yea, three waistcoats in cold weather, and a thick ruffe, besides a lusset scarf about his neck thrice folded under it ; so as I never observed any of his age and strength keep his body so warm." Speaking of his diet, among other circumstances he mentions, " he took tobacco abun- dantly, and of the best, which I think preserved him from sickness — especially in Ireland, where the foggy air of the bogs and waterish fowl, plenty of fish, and generally all meats of which the common sort always are salted and green roasted, do most prejudice the health." At his care of his person, and " his daintie fare before the wars," it was the custom of the rebel earl to laugh and observe that he would be beaten, while preparing his breakfast. But on this the secretary, justly jealous of his master's honour, remarks, "that by woful experience he found this jesting to be the laughter of Solomon's fool."* The extreme suffering of the English at this time can Imperfectly be conceived from the mere circumstance that they were liviiag in tents, and huts less warm than tents, in the month of November, without much added allowance for the far colder state of the climate, where the country was a wild waste of damp and marshy forests and watery morasses. In one of his letters the lord-deputy mentions that the sentinels were frequently carried in dead from their posts ; the officers themselves " do many of them look like spirits with toil and watching." Under such circumstances, the feeling of impatience must have been srreat for the occurrence of some decisive event. The arrival of the fleet cheered the English with at least a prospect of active service ; yet from the very unfavourable state of the weather, many delays v/ere experienced. The artillery was disembarked with difficulty, and the troops so disordered in health by the long and tem- pestuous passag'e, that upwards of a thousand men were sent to Cork to " refresh" and rest themselves. On his return from a visit to the ship, lord Mountjoy was saluted by a discharge of cannon balls from the town, of which " one came so near that it did beat the earth in his face."| It was now resolved to ply the town with a heo,vy fire, not so much with the design of an assault as to annoy the Spaniards, and, by break- ing in the roofs, make them share in the hardships which the English had to sustain from the wet and frost. One very great disadvantage for this purpose was, the impossibility of finding a spot uncommanded by the guns of the town. The fleet was directed to batter a tower called " castle Nyparke," on an island on the side ; but on account of the stonny weather, were compelled to desist. Captain Bodly was next sent with 400 men to try whether it might be carried with the pickaxe — this also failed; the Spaniards rolled down huge stones so fast and successfully, as to break the engine which protected their assailants, who were thus driven off with the loss of two men. It was, however, resolved by the * Moryson. ] Ibid. 560 ■ HUGH, EARL OF TYEOXE. loi'd-deputj and liis couucil to persevere, as this was indeed the only ser- vice at the time to be attempted. The reader will recollect that two thousand men had been sent to wait for Tyrone upon the verg-e of IVIunster ; and it would be unsafe to commence a regular siege with the force remaining-, as the fatigue of the trenches would quickly ex- haust the men. To invest the town, therefore, and proceed to cut off every post without, held by the enemy, was the utmost they could yet hope to effect without great risk. It should be added, that one-third of the army was composed of Irish, who were not then so effectual in open assaults as they have since become ; and it was also apprehended, that on the slightest seeming of disadvantage they would join the Spaniards. Under these circumstances the firingagainst castle Nyparke was renewed on the 20th, with additional guns, and an impression was soon made on the walls. There was not yet a practicable breach when a flag of parley was hung out, and the Spaniards offered to sur- render if their lives should be spared. The offer was promptly ac- cepted, and they were brought prisoners to the camp. Another ad- vantao-e was at the same time obtained, by the discovery of a spot half- way between Kinsale and the camp, which commanded a most impor- tant portion of the town, where the Spaniards kept their stores, and Don Juan resided. On this judiciously-chosen situation a small plat- form was raised and a fire opened with a single cidverin on a part of the town visible from thence. It did considerable mischief, and among other lucky shots, one went through Don Juan's house. The Spaniards, ia the mean time, were not without their full share of suffering and apprehension. It was made apparent that their provision was beginning to run low; the Irish women and children were sent out of the town and came in great numbers to the camp, from whi(di they were sent oa into the country. The inference was confirmed by intelligence from the town whence an Irishman escaping came to the lord-deputy and told him, that Don Juan said privately, that the English must take the town, should it not be quicldy relieved from the north. The Spaniards were reduced to rusks and water ; they had but four pieces of artillery — a circumstance which may account for the small annoyance the English had all this time received from them. They had left Spain 5000 in number, and landed 3500 in Kinsale. Of these the waste of the war had been 500, so that at the time of our narration, they were 3000, To these main circumstances many other ])articulars were added, as to the positions of strength and weakness, and the places where ammunition and treasure were kept. Among otiier things it was mentioned, that six gentlemen had entered the town on Sunday, and were ready to go out again to raise the country. A messenger had been despatched nine days before to Tyrone to hasten his approach. It was also beginning to be greatly feared, that if this event should be much longer deferred, the Spaniards must be com- pelled to capitulate. The battery on the platform was soon strengthened with four guns, makino- thus six in all; and having been informed that Don Juan especially feared a cannonade from the island, the lord-deputy had three culverins planted there. One discharge from the platform killed four men in the market place, and carried off the leg of an officer. Reports HUGH, EARL OF TYRONE. 561 were received of great damage suffered in the town from the fire of both these batteries on the following day. On that day an in- cident occurred in sight of the Spaniards, which must have added in no small degree to the notions they had already been enabled to form of the English valour. A private soldier of Sii' John Berkeley's com- pany attempted to " steal a Spanish sentinel," a feat which he had often already performed : on this occasion, however, four other Span- iards whom he had not seen, came to the rescue of their comrade, and a sharp contest ensued, in which the Englishman defended himself against the five. He wounded the serjeant, and came off after some exchange of blows, with a cut in his hand, received in parrying one of the numerous pike thrusts which they made at him. From this period the lord-deputy commenced a series of regular approaches, of which the detail, though otherwise full of interest, would occupy an undue space here. A breach was made in the town walls, which gave occasion to several fierce contests falling little short of the character of general engagements, in all of which the Spaniards w-ere worsted with great slaughter. The town was summoned on the 28th November ; but Don Juan replied that he kept it " first for Christ, and next for the king of Spain, and so would defend it contra tanti." At this time six Spanish vessels arrived at Castlehaven, with 2000 men on board. The lord-deputy in consequence, drew his forces close to the town, and distributed them so as most effectually to guard every inlet. He sent a herald to Don Juan, offering him permission to bury his dead; and this brought some further communications. Among other things, the Spanish general proposed that they should decide the matter by single combat between the deputy and himself. To this ■eLn\\Ji?,m^ fanfaronade, lord Mountjoy replied, that they had neither of ' them any authority from the courts to put the war to such an arbitra- tion; and that the council of Trent forbade the " llomanists to fight in campo steccato."* The arrival of the Spanish vessels gave a temporary renovation to the waning hopes of Don Juan : the result fell far short of his expectation. The English squadi-on sailing out from Kinsale harbour, came on the 6th of December to Castlehaven, where openmg its fire on the Spaniards, it sunk one of their largest vessels, drove their admiral a wreck on shore, and took many prisoners — the Spanish soldiers from tw^o vessels succeeded in making their escape, and went to join the Irish under O'Donell. From the prisoners the lord-deputv learned that active steps were in course for the purpose of sending over large supplies during the spring; and that 4000 Italians were raised for the Irish service. They added, that in Spain the impression was that Ireland was already in the hands of the Spaniards ; and that on their approach they had mistaken the English fleet in the harbour for that of the army under Don Juan. Early in December the state of the war assumed an aspect of more awakening interest. Daily accounts were brought to the camp of the near approach of Tyrone: nor were they long without more sensible intimations of the presence oF a powerful foe. This able and wary chief had seized on the surrounding fastnesses and bogs, and entrenched * Mow son. I. 2 .>< Ir 562 HUGH, EARL OF TYEONE. himself so as to be secure from any eftbrt of his enemies. But the English army was thus itself hemmed in, and not only in danger of being attacked on every side ; but what was really more serious, cut off from those supplies from the surrounding country, which had till now enabled them to preserve their stores. To effect the double object of investing the town and keeping off the Irish, was now become an embarrassing necessity. The lord-deputy increased the extent, the breadth, and depth of his trenches — and made the most able disposi- tions to cut off all communication between the Irish camp and the town. By his dispatches to the English council and secretary, we learn that the combined armies of Tyrone and O'Donell lay at the distance of six miles from the camp; and that they possessed all that had been saved from the Spanish fleet at Castlehaven, both in men and supplies. He demanded large reinforcement, and complained that the previous one had been in a measure made ineffectual by the tar- diness of their arrival. Instead of arriving to increase his force, they came only to supply the losses consequent upon its weakness ; so that thus his means of active operation never rose to an efficient level. The sufferings and losses from cold and privation were also daily increasing. Meanwhile nothing was omitted that could distress Klnsale ; an effective fire, though interrupted by rain and storm, dismounted the guns with which the Spaniards attempted to interrupt the works ; and on the 15th, many of the castles were destroyed. On the 18th, the following letter was intercepted : — To the Prince G'Neale and Lord O^Donell. " I thought your excellencies would have come at Don Ricardo his going, since he had orders from you to say, that upon the Spaniards comming to you (from Castlehaven,) you would doe me that favour. And so I beseech you noAV you will doe it, and come as speedily and well appointed as may bee. For I assure you, that the enemies are tired, and are very few, and they cannot guard the third part of their trenches which shall not avail them; for resisting their first furie, all is ended. The manner of your comming your excellencies know bet- ter to take there, than I to give it here ; for I will give them well to doe this way, being alwaies watching to give the blow all that I can, and with some resolution, that your excellencies fighting as they do alwaise, I hope in God the victorie shall be ours without doubt, for the cause is his. And I more desire that victory for the interest of your excellencies than my owne. And so there is nothing to be done, but to bring your squadrons ; come well appointed and close withall, and being mingled with the enemies, their forts will doe as much harme to them as to us. I commend myself to Don Ricardo. The Lorde keep your excellencies. From Klnsale the eighth and twentieth (the new style, being the eighteenth after the old stile) of December, ItJOl. " Thoug-h you be not well fitted, I beseech your excellencies to dis- lodge, and come toward the enemy for expedition imports. It is need- full that we all be onhorsebacke at once, and the greater haste the better.* " Signed by Don Jean del Aguyla." * Morysoii. HUGH, EARL OF TYRONE. 563 The desire of the lord-deputy was, to bring on a decisive battle if possible. The English were dying by dozens, and the effects of delay were more to be feared than the enemy, and his suffering troops were much more disposed to fight than to endure cold, exposure, and starva- tion. To draw on this desirable event new breaches were effected, and a considerable part of the town wall struck down. The Irish on this approached within a mile of the camp; but Avhen two regiments were sent out to meet them, they retired within their lines — '' a fast- ness of wood and water where they encamped." On the nights of the 20th, 21st, and 22d, the weather was stormy; and on the 22d particularly, the work of war went on by almost un- remitting flashes of lightning, which streamed from the low dense vault of clouds overhead, playing on the spears, and showing every object between the camp and the town with an intensity beyond that of day. In this confusion of the elements, the Spaniards made several bold but vain assaults upon the English trenches ; and notwithstanding the numerous obstacles opposed, both by the depth and continuity of these, and the incessant vigilance of the English who now lay under arms all night, still they contrived to communicate by frequent messengers with the camp of Tyrone and O'Donell. On this very night, it is mentioned upon the authority of Don Juan, that he dispatched three messengers to Tyrone and received answers. It was decided on the next night to attack the English camp on both sides ; and there is every reason to believe, that if this design had been effected, it would have gone hard with the English. But, strange to say, by some mischance, seemingly inconsistent with the near position of the Irish (about six miles), they were led astray during the night, and did not come within sight of the enemy until morning light. The lord-de- puty was fully prepared. Sir G. Carew had received on the previ- ous evening a message from MacMahon, one of the leaders in the rebel camp, to beg for a bottle of usquebaugh, and desiring him to ex- pect this assault. Early on the morning- of the 24th, lord Mountjoy called a council, and it was their opinion that some accident had pre- vented the expected attack ; but while they were eng-aged in debate, a person called Sir George Carew to the door, and told him that Tyrone's army was very close to the camp. This repoi't was quickly confirmed, and the lord-deputy made prompt ari'angements to attack the Irish army. At this important moment, the whole effective force of the Eng- lish army was 5840 English soldiers in eleven regiments, with 767 Irish. The army of Tyrone and O'Donell, cannot be estimated on any satisfactory authority; but the Spanish commander, Alonzo de Campo, assured the lords Mountjoy and Sir G. Carew, that the Irish amounted to 6000 foot and 500 horse — a number far below any esti- mate otherwise to be formed from other data. In the Irish host captain Tyrrel led the vangviard, in which were the 2000 Spaniards who had landed in Castlehaven; the earl of Tyrone commanded the main body, then commonly called the battle, and O'Donell the rear. This moment was one of the most critical that has ever occurred in the history of Ireland. The whole chance of the English army, and consequently of the preservation of the pale, depended upon their suc- .-^.1 cess in bringing the enemy to an engagement. They were themselves completely shut in, and out of condition to preserve their very exist- ence against the destructive effects of cold, sickness, and want; so that a few weeks must have reduced them without any effort on the part of the enemy. Fortunately for them, one alone of the hostile leaders had formed any just notion of their respective strength and weakness: the earl of Tyrone, whose sagacious mind had been well instructed by severe experience, had exerted all his influence to moderate the impatience of his allies, and to retain the advantages of his position by avoiding all temptations to engage the enemy. If left to his own discretion, he would have kept securely within his lines, and confined his operations to the prevention of intercourse between the English and the surrounding country — ti'usting to the progress of those causes which could scarcely fail to place them in his power. But Don Juan was impatient of a siege which had become extremely distressing, and his urgency was backed by the confidence of the Spaniards under Tyrrel, and the impetuosity of O'Douell. If the reader will conceive himself to stand at some distance with his face toward the town and harbour of KInsale,* with the river Bandon on his right, he will then have the whole encampment of the English in view ; the position of the lord-deputy and the president Carew being before him, in the centre of the semi-circumference, of which the castle of Rincorran occupies the extreme left, and the lesser camp under lord Thomond the right extremity, so as to form a semi- circle round the town. On the 24th of December, the combined army under Tyrone occupied a position inclining to the right, or in a line di-awn from the central camp towards Dunderrow on the north-west. To prevent the fatal consequence of a sortie from KInsale, Sir George Carew was directed to take the command of the camp, and to proceed as usual with the siege. By this able commander the guards were doubled at every point, from which the Spaniards could come out, and so effective were these precautions that the battle was over before Don Juan had any distinct intimation of its commencement. Lord Mountjoy led out two regiments amounting to 1 1 00 men to meet the enemy. The marshall WIngfield, with GOO horse and Sir Henry Power's regiment, had already been in the field all night. On their approach the Irish retired across a ford ; but as they showed evident signs of disorder, the lord-marshal sent for leave to attack, to the lord-deputy, who took his stand on a near eminence ; on which Mount- joy — ^having fii'st inquired as to the nature of the ground on the other side, and learned that it was a fair wide field, ordered the attack. At or about the same time, the earl of Clanricarde, whose regiment was occupied in the camp, came up also to urge the attack. The difficulty to be overcome was considerable. A bog and a deep ford lay between them and the rising-ground on which the Irish stood, and as it was plain they could only pass in detail, a very little skill would have pre- vented their passage. The marshal first passed over with the brave earl of Clanricarde, and advanced with 100 horse, to cover the passage * We have chiefly taken our description of this memorable battle from a very confused and unsatisfactory map in the Hibtrnia Pacita. HUGH, EARL OF TYRONE. 565 of Sir Henry Power, who led two regiments across the ford. A hundred harquebusiers, led by lieutenant Cowel, began the fight by a fire, which was returned by a strong skirmishing party sent out to meet them along the bogside. The English skirmishers were driven in upon the ranks, but being strengthened they retiu'ned and repulsed those of the Irish. The marshal with his party next charged an Irish division of about 1800 men, on which they failed to make any impression. On this the lord-deputy sent down Sir Henry Davers with the rest of the horse, and Sir William Godolphin with two other regiments of foot. Marshal Wingfield once more charged them, and the Irish were broken and began to fly in all directions. The explosion of a bag of powder in the midst of their rout added to its terror and confusion, and produced on both parties a momen- tary suspense. The circumstance most discouraging to the Irish was the -flight of their horse, which being chiefly composed of the chiefs of septs or their kindred, were looked on with reliance.* In consequence a great slaughter took place. But the two other bodies of Irish and Spanish seeing- this, came on to their assistance. To meet this danger, lord Mountjoy sent Sir Francis Roe with his regi- ment, and also the regiment of St John, to charge the Irish vanguard In flank, which retired in disorder from the charge. The Spaniards which formed part of this body, hov/ever, rallied, and separating them- selves from the Irish, made a stand ; they were charged a second time and broken by the lord-deputy's troop, led by Godolphin. In this second charge they were nearly all cut to pieces, and the remnant made prisoners with Don Alonzo del Campo, their commander. From this no further stand was attempted, but the Irish army began to fly on every side, and their flight was facilitated by the resolute resist- ance of the Spaniards. A chase commenced and was continued for two miles, In which great numbers were slain without any efflirt at resistance. On the field of battle lay 1200 Irish, besides the greater part of the Spaniards. Tyrone, who afterwards said that he was beaten by an army less than one-sixth of his own, added that besides the number slain he had 800 wounded.f According to Moryson's account, lord Mountjoy, "In the midst of the dead bodies, caused thanks to be given to God for this victory." And never, indeed, was there an occasion on which the impression of providential deliverance was better warranted: whether the magni- tude of the consequences be looked at, or the almost singular cir- cumstance of such a formidable preparation being thus set at nought; and upwards of 3000 slain or wounded, with the loss of one cornet and seven common soldiers. A note given hij one of Tyrone^ s followers, of his loss at this overthrow. "TIrlogh O'Hag, Sonne to Art O'Hagan, commanded of five hundred, slaine himselfe with all his company, except twenty, where eleven were hurt, and of them seven died the eighteenth day after their returne. " Kedagh MacDonnell, captalne of three hundred, slaine with all Ills men, except threescore; whereof there were hurt five and twenty. * Moryson. ■\ Moryson. Hileniin Pucula. 5QQ HUGH, EAEL OF TYRONE. " Donell Groome MacDonnell, captaine of a hundred, slaine himselfe and his whole company. " Rory MacDonnell, captaine of a hundred, slaine himselfe and his company. " Five of the Clancans, captaines of five hundred, themselves slaine and their companies, except threescore and eighteene, whereof three- score were hurt, " Sorly Boyes sones had followers in three hundred, under the lead- ing of captaine Mulmore O'Heagarty, all slaine with the said Mulmore saving one and thirty, whereof twenty were hurt. " Colle Duff MacDonnell, cajjtaine of one hundred, lost with all his company. " Three of the Neales, captaines of three hundred sent by C'or- mack Mac Barron, all lost saving eighteene, whereof there were nine hurt. " Captaines slaine 14; soldiers slaine 1995; soldiers hurt 76." The earl of Clanricarde was knighted on the field for his distin- guished services that day, having slain twenty Irish, hand to hand, and had his clothes torn in pieces with their pikes. The English were marching back to their camp a little before noon, and on reaching it a general volley was fired to celebrate their success. This the garrison in Kinsale mistook for the approach of the Irish, whom they imagined to have di-iven in the English and to be now en- gaged in an assault upon their camp. On this supposition they made a sally but were as usual quickly driven In. They were at the same time shocked and disheartened by the sight of the Spanish colours in pos- session of the enemy's horse, who were waving them on a hill in sight. The position of Don Juan now afforded little hope ; but he continued to hold out, and on the night after the battle the conquerors had to maintain an action of two hours' continuance against a fierce sally. A similar attempt was made on the following night. On the 29th of December, accounts came that Tyrone had crossed the Blackwater with the loss of many carriages and 140 men, who were drowned In their hurry, having attempted to jiass before the waters were fallen. Tyrone was said to be wounded and compelled to travel In a litter. O'Donell embarked for Spain, with Pedro Zubuiar, one of the commanders of the Spanish ships. Don Juan now saAv that it was necessai-y to save his little garrison by capitulation; having, In fact, committed every oversight, that the circumstances made possible, he still considered that his military cha- racter was to be preserved. He had by the unaccountable blunder of landing in the south, to strengthen a rebellion of which the whole efl^cient strength lay In the north, first thrown himself and his army into a position In which their Isolation and danger were a matter of course, and thus compelled his ally to give up the advantages he pos- sessed, and meet all the dangers and distresses of a winter march through the forests, morasses, tempests, and enemies, over 300 miles of country. He then, when this desperate point was gained, with an entire disregard of the constitution and quality of his allies, their habits of warfare, and all the obvious advantages and disadva.i- HUGH, EARL OF TYRONE. 507 tag-es on either side, precipitated his friends into the hazard of an eng-ag-ement : he failed to recollect that a few weeks must needs hring succours both to himself and Tyrone, and reduce the Eng-lish as much: for they were really sinking fast, although it is suspected that the policy of Mountjoy made him believe matters worse than they really were. Then, when the fatal step was thus hurried on by his inconsiderate pride and impatience, he suffered himself to be re- duced to inaction, by a small part of the army wdiich he affected to despise, and lay still while his ally was cut to pieces by a handful of his besiegers. Notwithstanding this catalogue of blunders his indignation was roused, he spoke as one betrayed by those he came to save ; and sent a message to lord Mountjoy, proposing that a negotiation should be opened between them for the surrender of the town. In this com- munication he did not fail to insist that his own honour, and that of the Spanish arms were safe; that having come to give assistance to the arms of the Condes, O'Neale, and O'Donell, these two Condes, were it appeared no longer "in o'ei'uni natura," but had run away, leaving him, the Spanish commander, to fight the battle alone. Lord Mountjoy knew too well the difficulties he should have to encounter in maintaining the siege even for a few days more with his scanty re- sources and shattered army. Indeed, the last sally of the Spaniards had cost him far more men than the victory of the morning. He therefore most willingly consented, and sent Sir W. Godolphin into Kinsale. It is unnecessary here to detail the circumstances of the negotiation. One point only occasioned a momentary disagreement. Lord Mountjoy stipulated for the surrender of the Spanish stores, ordnance, and treasure: Don Juan took fire at the proposal, which he considered as an insult, and declared that if such an article were insisted upon further, he would break off all further treaty, and bury himself and his men in the ruins of the town before he would yield. Lord Mountjoy knew that he would keep his word; for however .in- capable as a commander, he was resolute and punctilious. It was therefore agreed, that the Spaniards should surrender Kinsale, and all the other forts and towns belonging to her Majesty, which were in their possession, and stand pledg-ed not to take arms for her enemies, or commit any hostile act until they had been first disembai'ked in a Spanish port. On the part of the English government, it was agreed that they should be allowed to depart for Spain, with all their property and friends, and while the preparations were making, they were to be sustained by the English government. These were the principal articles of the treaty, which was with some slight interruptions, here- after to be noticed, cai'ried into effect. Don Juan, in the mean time, accompanied the lords-deputy and president into Cork, where they lived on those terms of friendly intercourse which mark the cessation of hostility between civilized nations and honourable enemies. During this time, however, a des- patch from Spain was intercepted, containing numerous letters from the king- of Spain, and his minister the duke of Lerma, to Don Juan; they are preserved in the Pacata Hihernia, and plainly manifest the extensive preparations then in progress, to send over formidable rein- 668 HUGH, EAEL OF TYROXE. forcements — a result which providentially was set aside by the victory of Kinsale, which for the first time made clear to the Spanish court the real military character of their brave but barbarian allies. Shortly after his return to Spain, Don Juan was disgraced by his court, and died of vexation and disappointment. He seems to have possessed the proud and punctilious honour for which Spanish gentlemen have always been distinguished. His defence of Kinsale proves him a good soldier, and not destitute of military knowledge and talent; while his entire conduct was such as to exhibit still more unquestionably, that he wanted the sagacity, prudence, and the comprehensive calculating and observing tact, so necessary when difficulties on a large scale are to be encountered. A short correspondence with Sir G. Carew, after his arrival in Spain, seems to warrant an inference that he was a pro- ficient in the art of fortification, and on still more j)i'obable grounds that his disposition was generous and noble. To retm-n to the earl: there is no further occurrence " of his life, which demands any minuteness of detail. His fate for some time trembled on the wavering resentment and dotage of the queen, whose lonp- and brilliant reign was just in its last feeble expiring flashes. He had made a futile and ineffective effort to prolong a rebellion, of which the country was wearied. He had been taught that success alone, now less probable than ever, could purchase the alliance of his uncertain and time-serving countrymen. He nevertheless had con- tinued to maintain a specious attitude of hostility, though in reality it was no more than a succession of flights and escapes through the whole of the following summer, until the month of November. When — learn- ing that the obstinate resentment of the queen had given way to the desire of preventing increased expenses, by terminating all further pro- secution of this rebellion — he sent his proposals of submission: but as it was ajjparent from intercepted letters, that while he was endeavour- ing to gain terms for himself, he still continued his endeavours to excite other chiefs to continued rebellion, his overtures, for a time, were doubtfully received. The expectation of some great effort from Spain, for a while continued to deceive both parties. These illusions slowly cleared away, and on the 3d of March, 1603, Tyrone made the most entire submission which it was possible for discretionary power to dictate,* and received a full pardon. He then received a promise of the restoration of his lands, with certain reserves in favour of Henry Oge O'Neale, and Tirlogh MacHenry, to whom promises of land had been made; also of 600 acres for the new forts Mountjoy and Cliarle- mont. Certain rents or compositions to the crown, were at the same time reserved. On the 6th of April he arrived in Dublin, in company with the lord-deputy, and the next day an account arrived of the queen's death, on which it is said the earl of Tyrone burst into a violent fit of tears. Tyrone formally repeated his submission to king James, and ac- cording to stipulation, wrote for his son to Spain, where he had been sent to be brought up at the Spanish court. In the mean time he had permission to return to the north for the settlement of his affairs, and * The leinis are preserved in Moryson, 1. 3, cap. 2. lord Mountjoy sent over a full detail of all the particulars of his submis- sion, and the powers on which it had been received, and demanded the king's confirmation of his pardon. Shortly after lord Mountjoy, having been made lord-lieutenant, with permission to leave Sir G. Carew as his deputy, returned to England with the earl of Tyrone. Tyrone was received graciously at court, but his presence in the streets roused the animosity of the English jnob, and he was everywhere encountered with reviling and popular violence, so that he was obliged to travel with a guard until he was again embarked for Ireland. Lord Mountjoy was created earl of Devonshire, but did not live long to enjoy the honour, as he died in the spring of 1606, without leaving any heirs, so that the title again became extinct. Many persons of much ability had preceded him in the government of this country; yet, with the best intentions, none before him appear to have been competent to the mastery of the great and manifold disorders which had for six centuries continued to embroil its people, until long-con- tinued war had reduced them to a state not superior to barbarism, and produced a moral and political disorganization not to be so perfectly exemplified in the history of modern states. By a consummate union of caution, perseverance, firmness, and native military tact, he met and arrested a dangerous rebellion, at a moment when its chances of suc- cess were at the highest, and when it was in the hands of the ablest and best-supported leaders that had yet entered the field of Irish in- surrection. Of both these affirmations the best proof will be found in the whole of the operations in the north before the siege of Kinsale. The country was now reduced to a state of comparative tranquillity, and the earl of Tyrone mig'ht have run out the remainder of his course, and transmitted his honours and estates without interruption. But, although rebellion was stilled, a spirit of disaffection survived; and it cannot, with any probability, be said that the more turbulent chiefs of the north had ever entirely laid aside the hope of times more favourable to the assertion of their independence. In place of the ordinary motives of human pride, ambition, and interest, the more safe and popular excitement of religion began to be assumed, as the disguise of designs which grew and were cherished in secret. By the efficacy of this stimulant, fierce impulses were from time to time transmitted through the country ; and though matters were by no means ripe for any considerable impulse arising from religious fana- ticism, yet a degree of popular feeling was sufficiently excited, to en- courag-e the restless earl of Tyrone in the hope of a coming occasion once more to try the chance of open rebellion with better prospects. Such a sentiment could not be long entertained, without numerous acts and words, which, if brought to the test of inquiry, would endanger his head. Such an occasion soon occurred, and produced conse- quences which historians have thought fit to call mysterious. The archbishop of Armagh had a contest with the earl for lands alleged to be usurped from his see. A suit was commenced, and Tyrone was summoned to appear before the privy council. He had, however, heard that O'Cahan, a confidential servant of his own, had enlisted himself on the pi'imate's part; and concluded that the summons was a 570 THOMAS, SIXTEENTH EARL OF KERRY. pretext to lay hold on him. His lears were commuDicated to others, and, according to a report stated by Cox, they seem to have not been groundless. On the 7th May, 1607, a letter, directed to Sir William Fisher, clerk of the council, was dropped in the council chamber, ac- cusing the earl of Tyrone and Rory O'Donell, who had been created earl of Tyrconnel in 1(J03, with lord M'Guire and others, of a con- spiracy to surprize the castle of Dublin. However this question may be decided, it is certain at least that both Tyrone and the earl of Tyr- connel took the alarm, and fled to Spain, leaving all that they had in- trigued or contended for to the mercy of the English government. From this there is no certain notice of Tyrone in history. THOMAS, SIXTEENTH EARL OF KERRY. BORN A. D. 1502 DIED A. D. 1590. This eminent lord succeeded his brother, Gerald, in the earldom. His youth was spent in Italy. He was bred in Milan, and early en- tered the German service. On his brother's death, the inheritance was seized by one of the family, who was next heir, on the failure of next of kin in the direct line. The matter might have remained thus, and the wrongful possessor allowed to obtain that protection which time must ever give to possession, but most of all in that age of unsettled rights ; but fortunately for him, he was timely remem- bered by his nurse, Joan Harman, who was not prevented by the in- firmities of old age from proceeding with her daughter in search of her foster-child. Having embarked at Dingle, she landed in France, and went from thence to Italy. After overcoming the many difficulties of so long a journey, with her imperfect means and ignorance of the way, she found her noble foster-son ; and, having given him the need- ful information concerning the state of his affiiirs, she died on her way home. Lord Thomas came over to take possession of his estate and honours. For two years he had to contend with the resolute opposition of the intruder who relied on the circumstance of his being less known iu the country from having passed his life abroad. The intruding claimant was himself, it is likely, misled by the local character of his own acquaintance with society. In two years the claim of justice pre- vailed, and in or about the year 1550, in his forty-eighth year lord Thomas Fitz-Maurice obtained full possession of his rights. He was treated Avith distinguishing honour and confidence by Philip and ]Mary; who, in a letter apprizing him of their marriage, desired his good offices in aid of the lord deputy, to assist in rectifying the dis- orders which had been suffered to increase for some years in their Irish dominions. His course for many years was thus one of loyal duty, and honoured by the royal favour, although its incidents were not such as to call for our special notice. Among these it may be mentioned, that in the parliainent of the third year of Philip and Mary, he sat as premier baron; while in that of the fourth year of the same reign, lord Trimleston was placed above him. But in 1581, when in his 79th year, he was led into rebellion, by the example of ANGLO-NORMAN. ANCIENT lElSH FAMILIES. PLATE in. FITZMAURICE, — LINE OF KERRY AND LANSDOWNE. ORIGIN OF LORDSHIP BY EARLY WRITS OF SUMMONS AND OF IMMEMORIAL USAGE. GREAT ANCESTOR ON iWfllC SIDE, WL&Utt J^lt} OtljO, CASTELLAN OF WINDSOR, Umpora WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR. Gerald Fitzwalter, his eldest son, married Nesta, daughter of Rhasa, Prince of South Wales. William, his second son, accompanied Earl Strongbow into Ireland in 1171. Raymond Le Grosse, his eldest son, a principal actor in the conquest of Ireland, married sister of Earl Strongbow, and elected Governor on his death. Maurice Fitz Raymond, his eldest son, whence the family name, married daughter of Fitz Henry, Governor of Ireland, and settled in lands in Kerry, acquired by services of his father to Macarthy, King of Cork. ^orbs of J^crrg anir |^arons ^t«nato. 1 1253. Thomas, his eld. son, founded Ardfert, mai-. g.-dau. of Der- mott Mac Mur- rough, king of Leinst«r. 2&3 (2.) 1280. Maurice (eld. s.) served with Edward I. in Scottish wars. (3.) 1303. Nicholas, his eld. son, served in Scotland. 4&5 (4.) 1314. Maurice (eld. s.) attainted and forfeited for miu'der in court. (5.) 1339. John, his bro., to whom 1. -ship restored. 6&7 (6.) 1348. Maurice, his son, prisoner to Irish 1370. (7.) 1398. Sir Patrick, his son, called Longbeard, killed 1410. The line of the Lords of Kerry was continued in direct male succession — Thomas, the sixteenth, Patrick the seventeenth, and Thomas, the eighteenth Lords, having all engaged in various rebellions during the reign of Elizabeth ; and the last named having been outlawed by that queen, but pardoned and restored to title and lands by James VI. — to William, twentieth baron, who died in 1697. The eldest son, Thomas, twenty-first baron, mar- rying, in 1692, Ann, daughter of Sir William Petty, and having, during a prolonged Z?/e, supported the Protestant succession to the English throne, was, by George I., created Earl of Kerir in 1723. John, fifth son of this Thomas, again, having inherited the vast possessions of his uncle, Henry son of Sir William Petty and Earl of Shelburne, was, after him, created also Earl of Shelburne in Ireland in 1753. His descendants in the third generation — having then risen to the honours of Marquis of Lansdowne, &c., in England — succeeded, in default of nearer male heirs, to the earldom. Hence a great, rise took place in the fortunes of this ancient family. (f arls of litrrg. ARMORIAL BEARINGS OF FITZMAURICE, EARL OF KERRY, AND MARQUIS OF LANSDOWNE. €arls of Jltrrg anb larqnigfs of ITansbofont. E. 1. B. 21. 1722. Thomas, eld. s. of 20th B. m, dau. of Sir William Petty, Vis. Clanmaurice and E. of Kerrv in I. E. 3. B. 23. 1747. Francis Thomas, his only son, bom in 1740, died 1813 s, p. E. 4. B. 24. 1818. Henry Petty Fitzniaurice, 2d Marquis of L,ansdowne, g.-son of 6th son of 1st earl. E. 5, 6. B. 25, 26. 1859. (M. 3.) William Thomas, his eldest sou. 1863. (M. 4.) Heniy, his brother. QUARTERINGS. Quarterly. — 1st and 4th. Ermine on a bend azure, a magnetic needle point- ing at a polar star, or, for Petty; 2d and 3d. Argent, a saltier, gules, a chief | ermine, for Fitzmaurice. Crests. — 1st. A centaur drawing a bow and arrow proper, the part from the waist argent ; 2d. a bee-hive beset with bees, diversely volant, proper. Supporters. — Two pegas, ermine, bridled, criiieil, winged, and unguled, or, each charged on tlie shoulder with a fleur de lis azure. E. 7. B. 26. 1866. (M. 5.) Henry Charles Keitli, his son. IRISH FAMILIES DESCENDED FROM MAURICE, PROQENITOR OF THE EARLS OF KERRV. 1. Fitzmauhce; of Liskahane, from Gerard, his second son, by Joanna, d. of Fitz Henry, gov. of I. 2. Fitzmaurifes of Brees, Mayo, from Maurice, his son by Catherine, dau. of Sir Miles Cogan. BaUj Pierses of Mac Equim. from Pierse, 2d s. of Thomas 1st L. of K., by Gr.idy, g. dau. of M.icmurrougli. K. of L. 4. Fitimauriffs of BaliiDprior. from Matthias, s. of Maurice, 2d L. by Catherine Macarthv More. A.FullartontC°LondonfcEdin'buT|ii THOMAS, SIXTEENTH EAEL OF KERRY. 571 others, and by the seeming weakness of the English. The lord deputy, supposing that the quiet of Munster was secured by the flight of the earl of Desmond and the death of John of Desmond, dismissed the larger proportion of his English forces. In consequence of this dan- gerous step, the earl of Kerry and his son, moved by their discontents against the deputy, broke into rebellion. They began by proceeding to dislodge the English from their garrisons, which they effected to some extent by the boldness and dexterity of their movements. First attacking the garrison of Adare, they slew the captain and most of the soldiers. They next marched to Liseonnel, in which there were only eight soldiers, as the place was supposed to be protected by its strength and difficulty of access. The entrance to this castle was se- cured by two gates, of which, upon the admission of any person, it was usual to make fast the outer before the inner was unbarred. Taking advantage of the circumstance, the earl bribed a woman who used every morning early to enter these gates, with a large basket of turf, wood, and other cumbrous necessaries, to let fall her basket in the outer gate, so as to prevent its being closed without delay. During the night he contrived to steal a strong party into a cabin which had very inconsiderately been allowed to stand close to the gate. All fell out favourably. The woman dropped her load, and, according to her instructions, uttered a loud cry; the men rushed in, and the porter was slain before he was aware of the nature of the incident, and in a few moments more, not a man of the garrison was alive. Encouraged by this success, the earl marched to Adnagh, which he thought to win by another stratagem. He hired for the purpose a young girl of loose character, who was to obtain admission, and w hen admitted, to act according to the earl's contrivance, so as to betray the fort. The capture of Liseonnel had, however, the effect of putting the captain on his guard. He soon contrived to draw from the young woman a confession of her perfidious intent, after which he caused her to be thrown from the walls. From this the earl proceeded to range through the counties of Waterfoi'd and Tipperary,. in which he committed waste, and took spoil without meeting any resistance. The deputy receiving an account of these outrages drew together about four hundred men, and marched into Kerry; and coming to the wood of Lisconnell, where the carl was encamped with seven hundred, an encounter took place, in which the earl's army was put to flight and scattered away, leaving their spoil behind them. The earl, with a few more, escaped into the mountains of Sleulaugher. Marching on into the estates of Fltz -Maurice, the lord deputy seized and garri- soned the forts and strong places. Another severe defeat, which soon followed, completed the fall of the earl, who found himself unable to attempt any further resistance. He then applied to the earl of Ormonde, to whom he had done all the mischief in his power, to obtain a pardon for him. The earl of Ormonde had the generosity to in- tercede for him, and he was pardoned. The remaining events of his life have nothing remai'kable enough to claim attention. He lived on in honour and prosperity, till the close of his eighty-eighth year, when he died at Lixnaw, on the 16th 572 JAMES FITZ-MAUEICE. December, lo'JO. He is said to have been the handsomest man of his time, and also remarkable to an advanced age for his great strength. EGBERT, FIFTH LORD TRIMLESTON. DIED A. D. 1573. The first lord Trimleston was Robert Barnewall, second son to Sir Christopher Barnewall, of Crickston, in Meath, who was chief justice of the king's bench in 1445 and 1446. The ancestors intermediate be- tween this eminent person and the fifth lord, had most of them acted their part in the troubled politics of their respective generations with credit, and were eminent in their day. We select the fifth lord for this brief notice, as lie is mentioned in terms of high eulogy by the chroniclers. In 1561, he was joined in commission with the archbishop of Dublin and other lords, for the preservation of the peace of the pale, during' the absence of lord deputy Sussex. HoUinshed gives the following account of him: — " He was a rare nobleman, and endowed with sundry good g'ifts, who, having well wedded himself to the reformation of his miserable country, Avas resolved for the Avhetting of his wit, which nevertheless was jjregnant and quick; by a short trade and method he took in his study to have sipt up the very sap of the common law, and upon this determination sailing into England, sickened shortly after at a worshipful matron's house at Combury, named Margaret Tiler, where he was, to the great grief of all his country, pursued with death, when the weal of the public had most need of his life." His death happened in 1573: he left no issue, and was succeeded by his brother Peter. JA]MES FITZ-MAURICE. DIED CIRC. 1563. There are few incidents connected with the life of James Fitz-Maurice, undetailed at length, in the later memoirs of this division of our work, as inextricably interwoven with the history of his time. And we should be enabled to compass all that may be particularly connected with his life and conduct, in a few sentences, were we not desirous to present our curious reader witli some more distinct notice of a few of the more memorable cliaracters which the incidents of the period have brought into the same field of view. That Fitz-Maurice was of the Desmond family seems agreed by historians ; but how, is not so agreed. Leland assumes him to be a brother to the 16th Earl. He first appears in active rebellion against the Queen's Govermnent, and engaged in correspondence for aid, with the Pope and Piiilip of Spain. With these dispositions he repaired to Spain, where he was cordially received by Philip ; finding small chance of the desired aid, he journeyed to Rome, where he met with more promise of success. The Pope contrived to secure a double advantage in his agency. Italy was then, as it since has been, infested with bands of robbers among its forests and mountain retreats. Tiiese received their ]>ardon from Gre- POSTSCRIPT. 573 gory, with a view to their more profitable employment in the service of the church. They were placed under the command of Fitz-]\Iaurice, who in the meantime visited Paris, to regain his wife. During his absence this respectable liand was by his desire conducted by one Stukely to await him in Spain. Stukely, landing on the coast of Portugal, was persuaded by King Sebastian to join his expedition against Morocco, with a pro- mise on his return to accompany him to Ireland with a strong force. Both Stukely and the king were slain in the battle which followed, and the remnant of the brigand troop which came back were conducted by Fitz-Maurice to Ireland, where his further career was cut short in a private brawl. POSTSCPJPT. We may now conclude tliese notices, so fiir as they are simply poli- tical, with a very few contemporaneous notices of the more eminent and influential names which grace the record of these late wars, but of which tlie separate notice has not been within our plan. Among the distinguished names of this period, there is pez'haps none so justly celebrated as Raleigh : his unfortunate and erratic career may in some measure be said to have commenced in Ireland. While he obtained military honour and large estates in the close of this period, his name constantly recurs among the captains of the president of Munster, having borne a marked part in the desperate siege of Dunboy castle. His enterprising temper alone changed the current of his life, and prevented his having laid the foundation of an illustrious Irish name. Having obtained ample grants in the counties of Cork and Water- ford, out of the vast estates forfeited by the earl of Desmond, he built a house for himself in the town of Youghal. Of this we are enabled to give the following interesting extract : — " The house in which Sir Walter is said to have resided, when at Youghal, is still standing, and in good preservation. It adjoins the churchyard, and is at present in the occupation of Sir Christopher Musgrave. It is a mansion of long and low proportions, not remarkable either for beauty or peculiarity of architecture, several of the apartments are of rather spacious dimen- sions, and finished with oaken panels and large chimney pieces well carved. In a garden attached to this residence, it is believed Raleigh planted the first potatoes grown in Ireland. According to a current tradition, the man intrusted with the care of the garden in the absence of Sir Walter, supposed that the apple or seed, was the esculent part of the novel production ; and finding the taste unpleasant, bestowed no farther thought on the plantation until upon digging the ground for some other crop, the root was found to yield a wholesome and palatable species of food, of more importance to the future condition of Ireland than all the political schemes, wars, and encroaching settlements of queen Elizabeth, her councillors, and armies."* To the particulars In this extract, Lewis's Topographical Dictionarif * Brewer. enables us to add a few interesting- particulars. The place of Sir Walter is now called Myrtle-grove, and is or was recently the property of the Hayman family. The panelling of the drawing-room is re- markable for its rich carving. " In removing the panelling of one of the rooms some years since, an aperture in the wall was discovered, in w^hich were found several old books, one bound in oak and printed at Mantua, 1479; consisting of two parts, one in black-letter, a history of the Bible, with coloured initials : the other an ecclesiastical history by John Schallus, professor of physic at Hernfield, dedicated to prince Gonzales." Sir Walter Raleigh's Irish career began under the earl of Ormonde and was pursued in the wars of Munster, where he gained more in fortune than reputation. After this, returning for a while to England, he rose in the queen's favour, and served with distinction in many enterprizes. In 1584, he is traced in England serving as M. P. for Devon, and leading a life of most intense study, cultivating and patronizing every science and liberal art. The following interval is not very distinctly traced, but we are inclined to fix upon it as the period of his residence in Ireland, we should conclude from the above-mentioned particulars, with the design of settling ; and this seems confirmed by the additional fact that, in 1588, he was mayor of Youghal. But it appears that the management of his large Irish property required an exclusive at- tention which ill suited Avith his romantic and restless nature, and that the rents were far below the apparent value of the property. He returned to England with a mind filled with specious and glittering prospects, and soon after obtained an appointment from Elizabeth to the government of Jersey. He had failed in his endeavours to excite the mind of the prudent queen, by the sanguine representations of foreign discoveries of visionary realms, which lay before his imagination with the brightness and solidity of the gorgeous vapours of a glorious sun- set, and his fancy tinged even realities with a dream-like aspect, which rendered them questionable to sober minds. In his account of one of his voyages he says, " Those who are desirous to discover and to see many nations, may be satisfied within this river which bringeth forth so many arms and branches, leading to several countries and provinces about two thousand miles east and west, and eight hundred north and south, and of these the most rich either in gold or other merchan- dizes. The common soldier shall here fight for gold, and pay himself instead of pence with plates half a foot broad, Avhereas, he breaketh his bones in other wars for provant and penury." During the latter years of queen Elizabeth, the name of Raleigh is illustrious among the splendid constellation of glorious names, which raise the literary glory of her reign so high. Shakspeare, Johnson, Beaumont, and Fletcher, with their contemporaries, were among his familiar acquaintance- It was some time after the siege of Dunboy, that Sir Richard Boyle was sent into England with an account of that transaction, by Sir George Carew, who advised him to purchase Raleigh's Irish estates. A meeting for the purpose took place in England, between Boyle and Raleigh, and Cecil introduced them at Carew's request, and acted as moderator in the transaction, which ended in a bargain by which Raleigh conveyed his Irish estate to Boyle for the sum of £1500, the POSTSCRIPT. 575 land being about 12,000 acres in extent. It is a curious circumstance that some years after Sir Walter obtained liis liberty, after twelve years confinement in the Tower, at the expense of the same sum, with wliich he purchased the intercession of the profligate Villiers. This long interval of confinement was rendered more honourable by Raleigh's genius than his years of liberty by military exploits of which the character was little chivalric or humane, and foreign enterprizes too much like buccaneering expeditious to be satisfactory to a mind like his. It was immediately after the transaction above related, that he became inv^olved in a charg-e of treason, made by lord Cobham, and too well-known for detail. Of his innocence we entertain no doubts. His long confinement was mitigated by the free exercise of an uucon- fined imagination; the gloomy cell was peopled by his boundless fancy, and the Hesperian Isles of discovery lay between his contemplation and the grim walls which cooped him in. With much difficulty, and the exertion of considerable influence, he revived a plan which he had long entertained for the colonization of New Guiana ; in an unlucky hour, surrounded by the evil influence of Spain, and the unfavourable dispositions of the king and his principal ministers, and under a sentence of death which made his life answerable for the result of a doubtful adventure, Raleigh was appointed to command an expedition for the purpose of founding a settlement in Guiana. The result of this is familiar in every English history; it failed in such a manner as to wreck the fortunes and implicate the character of the unfortunate leader. He had embarked his entire property in it; his son who sailed as one of his captains, was slain in an attack upon St Thomas ; his friend and second in command shot himself in despair, and Raleigh returned to a bloody death from the axe of the executioner : he was ordered to execution on his sentence twelve years before. Among the eminent names of this period, of whom our regular plan cannot properly be said to admit of a distinct memoir, there is none whose claim to notice stands higher than Charles Blount, lord Mountjoy, by whose distinguished services the Ulster rebellion was brought to its conclusion. Our life of Hugh, earl of Tyrone, may indeed be con- sidered as containing the most important passages of the life of this eminent soldier, and we shall here endeavour to supply some addi- tional particulars which we were in that article compelled to omit. Charles Blount, the second son of lord Mountjoy, was born about 1563. He was educated at Oxford, and designed for the bar. In the uni- versity, the fairest hopes were encouraged by his rapid progress in literature, as well as hy the habits of intensely diligent study which became the habit of his life, and strongly marked his character. Early in his youth he professed the honourable resolution, to raise again the sinking honours of his family. His grandfather had dilapidated a good fortune in the profuse and luxm'ious court of Henry ; his father evidently a weak man, instead of improving his impoverished estate by industry and economy, had recourse to the chimeras of alchemy, Avhich then as for previous ages continued to impose on manlvind, and to beggar thousands with the promise of visionary wealth. His elder brother's extravagance still further reduced the fortune of the family. Charles began eai-ly to manifest the indications of a wise, honourable, 576 POSTSCRIPT. and aspiring temper. Moryson mentions, on his own authority, that " In his childhood, when his parents would have his picture, he chose to be drawn with a trowel in his hand, and this motto — Ad recedtji- candam antiquam domuin." Moryson also mentions that, on leaving Oxford university very young", he was still " not well grounded," but that he repaired the deficiency in London by obtaining the most skil- ful instructors in the languages, history, mathematics, cosmography, and natural philosophy. In these pursuits he took chief delight, spending much of his time in canvassing subjects of doubt and difH- culty, and practising his memory on the most subtle objections with their solutions. But his chief delight was in theology, ever the most attractive in early youth to minds of wide and grasping range : he loved much to study both the fathers and the schoolmen. For this latter taste he accounted by mentioning" that, " being in his youth much addicted to popery, so much as through prejudicate opinion no writer of our time could have diverted him from it, yet, by observing the fathers' consent, and the schoolmen's idle and absurd distinctions, he began first to distaste many of their opinions, and then by reading our authors, to be confirmed in the reform doctrine," His introduction to court was curious. Having come to London he repaired to Whitehall to see the court. Tlie queen chanced to be at dinner, when Blount's figure, then strikingly graceful, caught her eye, not the slowest to discern the attractions of manly beauty. She imme- diately inquired his name, and, on being informed who he was, called him to her, gave him her hand to kiss, and desired him to come often to court, with the assurance that she would keep his fortune in view. The queen kept her word. After a few years' waiting, during which he was employed from time to time, he was appointed to the government of Portsmouth. In 159-1 bis brother's death took place, and he succeeded to the title of Mountjoy, with the remains of a wasted property, amounting to 1000 marks a-year. This, though small, was sufficient to supply the expenses of a moderate young noble- man who had no family to maintain. Two or three years after, he served under lord Essex in an expedition to the Azores. We have already mentioned in a former page, that the friendship of Essex was rendered unprofitable by the intense jealousy with which he looked on the queen's favour, which he wished entirely to engross. To this jealousy it was owing that, when the queen was afterwards desirous to send Mountjoy to Ireland, Essex, not content with obtaining the appointment for himself, endeavoured to rejiresent Mountjoy as a bookish dreamer, unfit for that arduous and responsible charge. Nevertheless, it is mentioned by Moryson, that the high qualities of his character had so struck " two old counsellors of Ireland," that they long" before pointed him out as the person most likely to suppress the rebellion of Tyrone. The history of his Irish campaign, by which the prognostication of the two old gentlemen was amply verified, we have fully given. King James, who succeeded immediately on the close of this rebellion, created him earl of Devonshire. His life is said to have been embittered by unfortunate love. In his early days he had engaged the affections of a daughter of the earl of Essex ; but POSTSCRIPT. 677 ho was not t't'lt hy tho lady'H lather to ho aniatoh equal to thtui- ox[ioe- tationa. Accoi-duit;' to the tyrannical iisaj^o of the time, h\w was ro- hiotautly niavriinl to lovd Kieh. 'I'ht^ oouso(|iiouoo was imha|>|iy, and huivt's a hhit, tin* only oius on tho momoi-y of Alountjoy; tho inuiol award of tho tyi-annicul lalhor was repaired hy a crime, 'i'he divorce of laily llieh loliuwrd. Alter whieh alio was married to JMoiinljoy, who lived hut a leu inonliiH alter. Morysoa, from \^il(l^l we have ali'eady drn wn somt> iuteroHtin^' par- ticulars of thi^ emiiiciil (•(MiiiuaniltT, tiiaiili;, us lo add a few nu»ro of no small interest respeetin^' his persun aiul character :--'• lie was of stature tall, aiul of very coudy proportion; his skin faire, with little hairo on his hody, which haire was of colour hlackish, (or iiudininy to hlacke,) and thin on his head, where he wore it short, e.vce[>t a loeke luidcr his left earcs which he nourished the time ol' this warro, and, heiui;' woven up, laid it in his uin-ke under his rulfe. 'I'he (irowu of his head was in his latt<'r days something- l)ald, as tVie lore part naturelly cm-led; he oiudy us(ul the harher for his head; for the hairo on his chin (f.;rowin/^- slowly) and thai on his chei^ks and ihi'oat, he us(h1 almost daily to cut it with his sizers, keej)iug' it so low with his owno hand that it could scarce heo disciu'ued, as likewise himselfe kept the haire of his upper lippe something' short, ouely sulforing' that under his nether lippe to grow at length and ltd! ; yet, sonm two or thi'ce yeeres hclore his death, he nourished a .-iliarpi* and short pikposition to the wishes of Gerald, earl of Kildare, between whom and Wolsey there was a violent enmity, and Allen was deemed by his patron a fit person to resist and embarrass the earl in Ireland. It was perhaps to give additional eftect to this design that Allen was immediately after his appointment made chancellor of Ireland. He brought over with him as his secretary John Allen, who became after, successively, master of the rolls and chancellor.* In 1529 he received the confirmation of the Pope, and in 1530 held a consistory in Dublin, of which the acts are preserved in the Black Booh of Christ Churcli.f In 1532, his enemy, the earl of Kildare, rising into favour, and beino- appointed lord-deputy, succeeded in displacing Allen from the chancery bench in favour of Cromer, the archbishop of Armagh, a creature of his own, — a circumstance which increased the enmity that already subsisted between Allen and earl Gerald. The indiscretion of the earl was not long in placing formidable advantages in the hand of his enemy, and from the moment of this injury a strenuous cabal was formed against the Irish administration to expose or misrepresent his conduct. It happened favourably to Allen's views, though not quite so fortunately for his safety — for the desires and true interests of men are often wide asunder — that Kildare's arrogant and ambitious conduct involved him in many suspicious proceedings, and gave ofience to many. Allen's faction, in consequence, rapidly increased in numbers, and in the means of annoyance. In our life of the earl we liave already had occasion to relate tlie particulars of this proceeding, and tlie State Paper correspondence atlbrds full and detailed evidence both of its nature and means. The council itself became, in fact, what might well be termed a conspiracy, if the substantial justice of tlieir complaints did not neces- sitate and excuse the course they adopted. In 1533 Allen entered into a dispute for precedence with Cromer, who had been made chancellor in his room. The controversy appears to have been decided in favour of Cromer. Subsequent events, as Mr. Dalton observes, put an end to " all controversies concerning bearing the cross." An arrangement of a very diflerent nature, also mentioned from the State Papers by the same author, affords the only probable inference on the subject of the contest. Among the provisions made for the defence of the country, it was appointed that " all lords, and persons of the spiritualty, shall send companies to hostings and journeys in the manner and form following: — " The archbishop of Armagh, 16 able archers or gunners, appointed for the war. The archbishop of Dublin, 20, &c., &c., &c."| The consequences of the hostility of Allen's party now began to be rapidly and fatally developed. The earl of Kildare having continued for some time to plunge deeper and deeper in the embarrassments brought on by his own rashness and his enemies' contrivance, went, for the last time, to England, leaving the government to his son, lord Thomas Fitz- Gerald, in whose memoir we liave fully related the event — the disgrace of the earl — the fatal course of infatuation which led his son to an early death — and the most foul and inhuman murder of Allen. This last-mentioned event took place on the 28th of July, 1534. On the preceding evening Allen, reasonably fearful of the enmity he had excited, and apprehending the siege of Dublin castle, resolved to save himself by a flight into England, and embarked with this intent. * Ware's An. + Dalton. \ State Papers. Ill tlie night his vessel was stranded near Clontarf— most probably by the treachery of the pilot, who was a follower of the Geraldines. Finding his danger, tlie archbishop took refuge in tlie " mansion of Mr. Hollywood of Artane, whose extensive hospitality he connnemorates in his JRepertorium Ovide." The hospitality of his friend could not, however, reprieve him from his cruel fate. His retreat was reported to Lord Thomas, and the next morning liis fell and blood-thirsty foes were at the door. In his shirt lie was dragged out, and beaten to death. The wretches who committed the crime shortly after came to violent deaths. II. CLEKICAL AND LITERARY. EGBERT DE WIKEFORD. DIED A. D. 1390. Shortly after the death of Tliomas de Minot, archbishop of Dub- lin, llobert de Wikeford was appointed to the vacant see. He was born at Wikeford Hall in Essex, was a man of learning and ability, archdeacon of Winchester, doctor both of the civil and canon law in the University of Oxford, and was held in high estimation by Edward III., who, on frequent occasions, both employed and rewarded his services. Previous to his elevation he was for some time constable of Bourdeaux, and assisted in the management of the aflairs at Acqui- taine, on the Black Prince surrendering that province to his father. He removed to Ireland immediately after his appointment to the arch- bishopric, and the following year was made chancellor of that king- dom. In 1377, on the death of Edward III., he received the writ to alter the great seal, and substitute the name of Richard for that of Edward, and he was allowed £20 from the treasury for his own expenses. He was active and judicious in his management of the see, and was permitted to make many valuable additions to it. In 1381, he was employed in promoting the collection of a clerical sub- sidy for Richard, and in 1385 he was again appointed chancellor. At a meeting of the prelates and nobles in Naas, he received orders not to leave Ireland, where his presence was of much importance, without a special licence ; but this he obtained early in 1390, when he removed to England, where he intended to remain for a year ; but while there, was seized with his last illness, and died August 29th, 1390. ROBERT WALDBY. DIED A. D. 1397. Robert Waldby, a man of great learning and natural endowments, accompanied Edward the Black Prince to France, and was appointed professor of divinity at Toulouse, " where," says Bale, " he arrived to such a pitch of excellence, as to be esteemed the first among the learned for eloquence and skill in the languages." He was promoted to the bishopric of Ayre in Gascony, through the influence of his patron Edward, and was some years after translated to the see of Dublin. Edward II. continued to him the same consideration and regard shown by his father, and about 1392, appointed him chancellor of Ireland. He at the same time appointed llichard Metford, the bishop of Ciiichester, treasurer of Ireland ; and on his promotion to Sarum, in 1395, Waldby successfully used his interest at court to be removed to Chichester, from which he was the following year translated to the archbishopric of York. He did not long enjoy this new dignity, being attacked with a severe illness early in 1397, and dying on the 29th of May in that year. He is buried in the middle of St. Edmond's cliapel in Westminster Abbey under a marble tomb which bore the following inscription, though from some of the brass plates being torn oti' it is now defaced : — Hie. fuit expertus in quovis jure Roberfus ; De Walby dictus : nunc est sub marmore strictus Sacise Scripturse Doctor fuit et GenitureEe Iiigenuus medicus, et Plebis semper amicus; Consultor Regis optabat prospera Legis, Ecclesise Clioris fuit unus, bis quoque bonoris Prsesul advensis, post Arcbos Dubliniensis ; Hinc Cicestrencis. tandem Primas Eboracensis, Quarto Calendas Junii migravit, cursibus anni Septem milleni ter C. iionies quoque deni. Vos precor Orate ut sint sibi dona beatre. Cum Sanctis vitte reqiiiescat et sic sine lite. He was brother to tlie learned Jolni Waldby. WALTER FITZ-SIMONS. DIED A. D. 1511. Walter FitzSimons was consecrated archbishop of Dublin in 1484. Ware calls him " a learned divine and philosopher;" and he was bachelor both of the civil and canon law. His knowledge and learning, however, did not secure him from deception ; and he became a strenuous supporter of tlie absurd pretensions of Lambert Simnel, at whose coronation he assisted in Christ's Church in 1487, when John Payn, bishop of Meath, preached a sermon in the presence of the lord-deputy, the chancellor, treasurer, and other great officers of state, and they placed on the head of Simnel a crown taken from the statue of the Virgin Mary. This strange delusion being, however, quickly dissipated by the capture and degradation of Simnel, the arch- bishop renewed his allegiance, and received his pardon the year fol- lowing, from Sir Richard Edgecombe, the king's commissioner, who, in the great chamber in Thomas Court, received the oaths and recog- nizances of the earl of Kildare, then lord-deputy, and all the nobility who had been involved in the late rebellion. In 1492, Fitz-Simons was made deputy to Jaspar, duke of Bedford, and while he held this office Perkin Warbeck made his appearance in Ireland, but from the shortness of his stay there at that time, the lord-deputy was not com- pelled to take any part either for or against him. He held a parlia- ment in Dublin in 1493, and having resigned his office to Viscount JOHN HALIFAX. 633 Gormanstown, he went to England, both to give the king an account of his own administration, and also to make him aware of the general state of the kingdom. After remaining there about three months, during which time he appears to have made a most favourable im- pression on the mind of Henry, he returned to Ireland with ample in- structions respectnig the management of that country. It is stated by Stanihurst that the archbishop being with the king when a highly laudatory speech was made in his presence, he was asked by Henry his opinion of it, on which the arclibishop answered, " If it pleasetli your highness it pleaseth me ; I find no fault, save only that he flat- tered your majesty too much." " Now, in good faith," said the king, "our father of Dublin, we were minded to find the same fault our- selves." When, in 149G, the king having appointed his son Henry, duke of York, lord- lieutenant of Ireland, he put him under the guid- ance of the archbishop, in whose " allegiance, diligence, integrity, conscience, experience, and learning," he had the most implicit confi- dence ; and h.e at the same time appointed him lord-chancellor. In a synod held by the archbishop, he ordained a yearly salary to be paid by him and his sutlVagans to a divinity reader. In the same year the see of Grlendalough, which had been united to Dublin from the reign of king John, but tlie government of whicli had been usurped by friar Denis White, was re-united to that of Dublin by the voluntary sur- render of it by White, whose conscience became oppressed towards the end of his life by his illegal tenure of it. Fitz-Simons, having held the archbishopric for twenty-seven years, died at Finglass, on the 14th of May, 1511, and was buried in St. Patrick's Church. He was a man of a very just mind, of high principle, deep learning, and had a grace- ful and insinuating address, wliich particularly qualified him for the high sphere in which he moved, and won for him tlie regard and con- fidence of persons of opposite parties and opinions. JOHN HALIFAX. DIED A. D. 1255. John Halifax, commonly designated Sacrobosco, from Holywood, his supposed birthplace in the county of Wicklow, claims a distinguished place in the history of science, to which he was a successful contributor in a period of intellectual barrenness. His labours may be in some measure regarded as closing the first early stage of astronomy, and (at some distance), heralding the brighter day of Copernicus, Kepler and Galileo. His writings were published, and received as standard in the schools, nearly 300 years before the earliest of those illustrious men.* And his great work De Sphera held its place as a chief authority during that interval of time. With the common fortune of great men who have lived in obscure times, the personal records of his life are few, and his euthanasia will best be found in the darkness which he aided to dispel, and in the low contemporary state and obscure prospects of astronomical science. * Copernicus died a. d. 1543, Kepler, 1630. G34 CLERICAL AND LITERARY. With this view we will, according to the custom hitherto observed in this work, claim indulgence for a brief and glancing sketch of the won- derful history of a science, even in its failures, displaying the proudest monument of the human intellect. The period of Sacrobosco may be viewed as the early dawn of that science •which will hereafter be recollected as the glory of the nine- teenth century. From the sixth century till the thirteenth, there lay a dull and rayless torpor over the intellectual faculties, in which the science of antiquity was lost. To estimate the advantages and dis- advantages Avhlch then affected its revival, it may here be sufficient to make a few remarks upon the earlier history of science. There is a broad interval between the geographical research which bounded the known world by the surrounding sea of darkness, whose unknown shores were peopled with the Hyperboreans, and Lestrigons, and Cimmerians, and other dire chimeras of ignorance, and the voyages of Ross and Parry. The step is wide from the gnomon of Thales to the practical science of Kater, Sabine and Roy, or to the exquisite scien- tific and instrumental precision of the Ordnance Survey in Ireland. Wider still is the ascent of discovery between the " fiery clouds" of Anaxagoras and his school, and the nebulae — the " heaven of heavens" of Sir William Herschell, who has expanded the field of observation beyond the flight of the sublimest poetry. Yet astronomy had, never- theless, been then, and through every period of which there is any record, an object of earnest and industrious inquiry. The most striking and glorious phenomena of the external world, could not fail at any period tu excite the admiration, wonder, and speculative contemplation, of a being endowed with the vast grasp of reason which has since explored them with such marvellous success. They were a study to the inquir- ing, and a religion to the superstitious, from the first of times. The history of the human mind, perhaps, offers no succession of phenomena more illustrative, than the long variety of theories which seem to mark, as they descend, the advances of observation, or illustrate the law of action, by which the reason of man progresses towards its end. To pui-sue this view would require a volume to itself. It must here suffice to say, that hitherto there appears to have existed no adequate notions of the system of the heavens; neither the form or magnitude of the earth were known; or the distances, magnitudes, and motions of the other great bodies of the solar system. Of the earlier science of the Egyptians, the objects were confined to the measurement of time ; and if we knew no farther, the error of their ancient year would sufficiently fix the limit of their knowledge. The Greek philosophers, Pythagoras and his cotemporaries, whose knowledge is referred to Egypt, were evidently further advanced, but have left the landmarks of their progress in the curious absurdity of their theoretical views. It is sufficient that they had no notion, even approaching the truth, on the true magnitude and frame of the solar system. Yet it is not to be passed over, that even at that early period, the surprising sagacity of Pythagoras attained to some just fundamental notions which there were then no sufficient means to verify, and which were destined to sleep for many ages, till taken up by the Italian geometers in the beginning of the sixteenth century. Pythagoras conceived the first JOHN HALIFAX. 635 idea of the true system: lie supposed the sun to be at rest in the centre, and the earth with the other planets to be carried round in circular orbits. This great philosopher made even a fm'ther step, reaching by a very strange and wondertuUy ingenious analogy (if the story be true) to both the principle of gravitation and the precise law of its application. He was, by an accident, led to make experiments on sound: by one of these he ascertained the force with which various degrees of tension, caused by different weights, acted on strings of different lengths, so as to produce proportional intensities of sound. This discovery, which is supposed to have been the origin of stringed instruments of music, he applied to the solar system, and conjectured that the planets were, according to the same principle, drawn to the sun, with a force proportional to their several masses and inversely as the squares of their distances. It seems to have wanted little to im- prove this happy thought; but that little was wanting. There can nevertheless be little doubt, that it continued to pass down the stream of ages, and to recur to the most sagacious understandings of after- times. The fact was veiled by the mystical spirit of the Pythagorean and Platonic philosophy, in a mythological dress: Apollo playing on his seven-stringed harp, appositely described the harmonious analogy of nature's law. It was this conception which originated the idea of the music of the spheres, as imagined by the early philosophers of Greece. Though the geometers of ancient Greece had carried some principal branches of mathematics to an astonishing degree of perfection, their progress in physical science is chiefly memorable for its errors and the narrowness of its scope. Six hundred years before our era, Thales had invented the geometry of triangles, and measured the heights of the pyramids by their shadows. The elements of plane and solid geometry, cultivated in the long interval between, were matured by the genius of Euclid, ApoUonius, and Archimedes: by this latter philosopher, whose genius finds few parallels in human history, me- chanics also, and different branches of physical science, were ad- vanced to an extent not now to be distinctly defined. But there lay around those mighty ancients a vast field of obscurity, which they had not attained the means to penetrate. Other aids, both instru- mental and theoretical, were reserved for the development of future times ; their knowledge was confined in its application to the operations of the rule and compass. Beyond this narrow scope lay the wide realm since fully explored by the science of Galileo and Newton, inaccessible to observation, and darkly explored by conjecture and theory, then, as now and ever the resources of human ignorance and cui-iosity, where knowledge cannot reach. Nevertheless, so early as the time of Aristotle, the sounder method of observation and experiment were known: but the field of knowledge was too contracted for the range of speculation. The recognition was but partial. Yet from this period, the phenomena of astronomy were observed, registered, and submitted to mathematical computa- tion. The visible stars were grouped and catalogued, eclipses were calculated, and attempts were made, on sound geometrical principles, to measure the circumference of the earth. .lust notions of the 636 CLERICAL AND LITERARY. system were even entertained, but upon inadequate grounds, and amidst a variety of theoretical systems; and it was not until the year 150 B.C. that Eratostlienes, the librarian of Alexandria, measured an arc of the meridian, and computed the earth's circumference. Among- the remark- able circumstances of the interesting progress of this vast and sublime development of genius and observation, thus in (as it were) the first stage of its elevation, two are specially to be observed, for their essential connexion with the history both of astronomy and of human reason. The one, had we time and space, would lead us into the history of astrology — a wonderful combination of the great and little properties of human nature, under the towering shadows of which the science of observa- tion was preserved and fostered in its growth. The other is the beautiful application of an expedient still employed in natural philo- soj)hy, for the same purpose of embodying and suljjeeting to computa- tion the results of experienc e. A system purely empirical combined the observed phenomena of the known bodies of the solar system, in such a manner, that being framed so as to include all that could be observed of their motions, it was thus not only adapted for the purpose of computation within those limits, but also served to lead to a closer and more precise measure of phenomena, which, without the reference to some standard system, might easily escape the minute observation necessary for the detection of small quantities of motion or changes of position, such as might lead to further corrections. Of such a nature was the hypothesis by which Apollonius first attempted to solve the seemingly anomalous motions of the planets. This curious system, which was the faith of Europe for fourteen centuries, is worth the reader's attention, and, without any certainty that we can render it popularly intelligible, we shall here attempt to describe it. In conformity with the universal tendency to explain phenomena by assumptions which seem the most natural, it first began to be the received opinion that the sun and planets moved in circular paths round the earth, which was supposed to be fixed in the centre. The parallel paths and circular apparent motions of the phenomena of the heavens, suggested the notion of a crystalline sphere, in which the multitude of the stars was set, and which revolved with a solemn continuity round its terrestrial centre. The observation of the unequal and contrary apparent motions of the moon and planets extended the theory, and separate spheres of hollow crystalline were devised, to account for these diverse phenomena. It was to these vast concaves, thus spinning round with complicated but harmonious times and move- ments, that some Eastern poets have attributed a sublime and eternal harmony, unheard in this low world, but heard we should presume, in the " Starry mansion of Jove's couit." Such was the first rude and simple outline of the system as adopted by Aristotle and old Eudoxus. Closer and further observation, in the course of time, detected phenomena inconsistent with such a system, and for a time astronomers were content to observe. In proportion to the multiplication of phenomena, conjecture became more timid, and system more difficult. At last, the ingenuity of the geometer Apollo- JOHN HALIFAX. 637 nius contrived the first form of a theory which explained the great irregularities of those planetary motions, which most readers now understand to be the combined result of the separate motions of the earth and planets. Instead of a concave sphere having its centre of motion in the earth, ApoUonius conceived each of the planets to be carried round on the circumference of a circle, which was itself carried round upon another circle, the circumference of which was the path of its centre. By this ingenious device, the planetary phenomena now so well known by the terms direct, retrograde, and stationary, seemed to be explained. The appearance of a new star, and the long and laborious coui'se of observation into which it ledHipparchus,who under- took in the true spirit of inductive philosophy to catalogue the stars, conducted this great astronomer to the discovery of the precession of the equinoxes. A new circle, on which the sun was moved, according to the law already explained, reduced this phenomenon to the same convenient system. To this great geometer is attributed the Invention of the method of latitude and longitude, by which the position of places on the earth is ascertained: the invention of spherical trigonometry is said also to be among his discoveries.* Of these, however, the most considerable portion were lost, and the remains apj^ear only to be known by their preservation in the Almagest of Ptolemy. Three hundred years after the great philosophers already mentioned, their system, with the addition of whatever observation had added in the interval, came into the hands of Ptolemy, whose name it has ever since borne. This great man, not undeservedly, called prince of astronomers by the ancients, may be described as the Laplace of old astronomy: he collected, combined, and completed the results of observation, and reduced the real and theoretical knowledge of his predecessor into an improved, corrected, and augmented theory. A system of emiairical knowledge, even then displaying a grand and sublime aspect of the vast capability of human reason, though now chiefly valuable for its connexion with the faith, the superstition, and poetical remains of other times ; unless to those who can appreciate its value as a magni- ficent ruin of ancient philosophy, more instructive and more sublime than Thebes or Palmyra. Of this system, of which we have forborne to attempt a detailed description, (which would only embai'rass the reader who does not already understand it,) one of the effects was, to render permanent the errors which it contained, by the seeming precision with which it explained and calculated the known phenomena of nature. The broad intelligence of Hipparchus and Ptolemy were probably not deceived: they understood the nature of the process too well: they were aware that a theory which comprised, in its first elements, the whole visible phenomena, as well as the rates of movement and times of occurrence, must necessarily, within certain limits, appear to reproduce them as results of calculation. But the very fact that a known succession of phenomena could be thus deduced from a theory, seemed to offer an unanswerable verification of its truth, to a long succession of mindless * Laplace Systeme du Monde. 638 CLERICAL AND LITERARY. ages, whose broken recollections of ancient knowledge were simply the dreams of superstition. A long period of ignorance followed, in which all science was lost, and human reason was engrossed in devising sophisms and subtle errors. Science, lost in Europe, found refuge in the East; and about the end of the seventh century began to be cultivated with extraordi- nary zeal and success by the Arabians, who invented algebra, and are also supposed to have invented trigonometry. They translated a vast number of works of Greek science, and among the rest the Almagest of Ptolemy, about the beginning of the ninth century. At the revival of learning in Europe, astronomy, which had always more or less occupied the schools, from its connexion with astrology, as well as its essential combination with the adjustments of the calendar, began earliest to occupy attention. Among the works of science brought from Arabia, the Almagest of Ptolemy was obtained, and translated into Latin, by the patronage of Frederick III., in 1230. From this, a quick succession of astronomers and geographers began to construct anew the science of antiquity. The progress of geographical knowledge had been far more retarded and uncertain. Being chiefly dependent on detailed and local research, it was the less likely to be advanced beyond the narrow limits occupied by civilized nations. Notwithstanding the measurement of Eratos- thenes, which is supposed to have been not far from correctness, the geographers who follow for many ages were farther from any approach to the truth. The maps of various geographers of the middle ages, are still extant, to prove how restricted were the bounds of the known world ; the farther extremities of Europe, Asia, and Africa, were shut out from all but conjecture: America was yet undreamed of. The knowledge which actually existed was more due to commerce and conquest than to science ; and the march of the army, or the station of the caravan, were more to be relied on than the chart of science. In England, the first idea of a topographical survey originated in the distribution of the Saxon lands by the Norman conqueror, and gave rise to the celebrated compilation called Doomsday Book. The cru- sades gave some impulse to the advance of topographical knowledge. The travels of Marco Polo extended geography widely into the East. A long and improving course of maritime discovery set in, and as navigation became cultivated, far less obstructed voyages of discovery soon aftbrded more correct and extended notions of the compass and form of the old world. Still, however, the condition of geographical knowledge considered as a science, remained in the state in which it was left by Ptolemy. It is in this state of the science that the great standard work of Sacrobosco finds its place. It held the schools for the following .300 years, went through numerous translations, and has been published with a commentary by Clavius. It might still have held its ground, and Sacrobosco his fame, but for the revolutions in science which the sixteenth century produced. A succession of new intellects broke from the regenerated schools of antiquity. The cycle of a long decline of scientific genius seemed to have rolled back into its renovation of youth- ful vigour, — the geometry of Archimedes, Apollonius, and Euclid, seemed to conduct Copernicus, Kepler and Galileo back to the era of Pythagoras. These great men discovered the inadequacy of the Ptolemaic system to account for the phenomena of the solar system. They were silenced by the despotism of ignorance ; but they propa- gated the impulse of right reason, and the light they left never slept till it came into the school of England and the hand of Newton. Every one is aware of the main facts of the Newtonian system. But should any one who has read so far, ask the question which has been often asked — what is our security that the system of Newton is not as fallacious as the system of Ptolemy? the only answer we can give is this, that the principles of their construction are not simply different, but opposite— the one was a system devised to explain appearances, the other an undevised system, self-built, from discovered truth^ — the one was a theory, the other a collection of accurately ascertained facts — the one was intentionally assumed to represent what meets the eye, the other studiously rejecting both assumptions and appearances, may be regarded as the laborious work of the observation of ages, slowly falling together, vmtil a hand of power revealed the fundamental fact which disclosed the secret system of nature. The distances, magnitudes, and motions of the system are facts, tangible to sense: the theory of gravitation rests on the most universal analogy yet discovered, and on the most varied and complex confii-mation of geometrical reasoning and computation. " The terms attraction and gravity," says Mr. Woodhouse, " are not meant to signify any agency or mode of operation. They stand rather for a certain class of like effects, and are convenient modes of designating them." The law of gravity is tlie statement of a fact. If it were to be disproved, the vast system of facts, of which it is the combining principle, still remains the same — a symmetrical collection of calculable facts, unmixed with a single inference from mere theory. This ancient mathematician and astronomer taught the mathematical sciences, as then known, in the university of Paris, in 1230. Besides Ills standard work on the sphere, he also wrote on the astrolabe, on the calendar, and an arithmetical treatise. He died in Paris, in 1235, and was buried in the church '•' D. Maturini." * JOHN DUNS SCOTUS. DIED A. D. 1308. The birth-place of Duns is disputed by different authorities: the English and Scotch lay claim to him; but Wadding, his biographer, adjudges him to Ireland. This conclusion is supported by the adjunct of Scotus, then unquestionably assumed as distinctive of Irish origin; and it may be observed, that it never has been (and could not have been) *"Joliannes h, Sacro Bosco, Philosophiis et Mathematicus insignus, claruit anno 1230. Hunc Balseus, ex Lelaiido Aiiglum facit, natump; Halifaxse tradit in. Agro Eboracensi, ac inde nomen accepisse, sed perpeiam procul dnbio. Nam Halifax Sacrum capillum significan, non Sacrum Boscum. Dempsterus Scotuni facit. Stanihurstus et Alij Hibernnm voliint et HoUyivoodm natum, in A"to Dubliniensi. In hac opinionum varietate nihil definio." — Ware. 640 CLERICAL AND LITERARY. thus applied to any Scotchman, as it is evident that, so applied, it would have had no distinctive signification. The schools of Ireland, were at the time celebrated for a science, which was eminently adapted to the Irish genius — rather quick and ingenious than solid or profound. A remark which, to apj^ly to the modern Irish, must, we confess, undergo some allowances and deductions, for the modifications derived perhaps from an intermixture of blood. Scotus was born about the year 1266, in the province of Ulster, according to Cavellus, Luke, and Wadding:* he was educated in the university of Oxford, and became a Francis- can friar. From Oxford he went to the university of Paris, where his logical ability quickly made him eminent, and be became a fol- lower of Thomas Aquinas, the famous angelical doctor. During his residence in Paris, he acquired universal applause by an exploit inciden- tal to his age. The itinerant sophist has long disappeared with the knight errant and the travelling bard : the increase of knowledge has lessened the value of disputative skill, as the advance of civilization has somewhat cheapened the estimation of physical prowess: and the teeming profu- sion and facility of the press has obviated the necessity of the viva voce encounters of the controversialist. Some remains of this custom, may perhaps, be said to have yet a glimmering existence in Ireland ; which in some respects is entitled to be called the limbus Patrum of antiquity: we allude to the known practice of the Irish hedge schools, of which the most distinguished scholars travel about from school to school, on a tour of disputation, in which they both add to their learning and endeavour to maintain superiority of know- ledge.f This literary knight-errantry may perhaps be regarded as a monument of the time when the wandering doctors of Paris, Bologna, and Padua, and the still more subtle disciples of St Comgall's ancient university, used to travel from college to college, with the spear and shield of Aristotle — peripatetic in every sense — and win honours by proving black was white, in opposition to all antagonists. Duns, whose chivalry was in this at least not deficient, had early in life made a vow to support the honour of the Virgin. It was for this purpose that he presented himself to the university of Paris, and offered to maintain against all opponents, her freedom from original sin. A day was set, and the university assembled its powers and intelligence to witness this trial of dialectic skill. Many students and doctors of acknowledged reputation impugned the proposition of the Irish logician. Duns having fully stated the question, allowed his adversaries to discuss it in full detail ; and for three interminable days the torrent of their logic flowed, and involved their hearers in the tangled web of scholastic distinctions. Meanwhile, Duns, nothing dismayed, sat listening with a patient and unmoved steadiness of aspect and demeanour, which puzzled all the spectators, and made every one think him a mii'acle of patience. They were however to be still more astonished, when — after three days of ceaseless verbosity had spun the question into two hun- * Cited by Wnre, Scriptoribus Hib. Ed. 1639- ■f An ample iind curious account of these worthies may be found in Carleton's Traits and Stories of the Irish peasantry. di'ea elaborate arguments, and the Parisian disputants confessed there was no more to be said — Duns cahiily arose and recited all their several arguments, which one after the other he unanswerably refuted. And then while the whole body were yet digesting his superiority in silent dismay, he recommenced and annihilated his already prostrate antago- nists with some hundred more unanswerable arguments for the ques- tion. The university was convinced, and not only gave Duns his doctor's degree, with the well-merited title of the " subtle doctor," but also decreed that the doctrine thus affirmed should be held by the university in future. We may presume that the university kept its own law: but Duns was not to be tied by the webs of his own sub- tlety, and proved his claim at least to the title they conferred, by after- wards maintaining a different view of the question. The reputation of Duns grew, and his popularity increased, until it became unfit that he should any longer continue to be rejDuted the follower of another. To one like Duns, to whom every side of every question must have been equally conclusive, it was easy to find room to differ: and lie soon found a fair field of controversy with his great Neapolitan master, Aquinas. Of Aquinas, our reader may wish to know some particulars. He was the son of the illustrious family of Aquino, in the Terra di Lavoro, in Italy. Contrary to the wish of his parents he became a Dominican friar ; and the monks were compelled for some time to remove him from place to place, to maintain their possession of a youth of such high promise. He was at one time seized during a journey by his brothers, and kept for two years in confinement ; he was however found out by the Dominicans, and with their aid contrived to let him- self down from a window, and escaped. At last having completed the course of study then pursued, he went to Paris and took a doctor's degree : from Paris he returned to Italy, and set up his school at ISaples. He soon began to be regarded as the great light of the age, and more than any other writer contributed to the triumph of the scholastic over the ideal or mystic schools. He was among the first and greatest of those who introduced the theological method of col- lecting and digesting into a theory the doctrines of scripture. His system, immediately on its publication, received the most distinguished honour and acceptance — and he was ranked after death by Pius V. as the fifth doctor of the church: he was also called the angel of the church, and the angelical doctor. His death took place in 1274, and he was canonized by pope John XXII.* Such was the mighty antagonist which Duns assailed. The nature ofthe co-operation between divine grace and human will, and the measure of imparted grace necessary to salvation, were among the most promin- ent points of difference. The Dominicans sided with their own great light : the Franciscans were no less arduous in support of their subtle doctor ; and a violent division renewed the animosity of these two famous orders. Such was the orig-in ofthe two sects who are known by the names of Scotists and Thomists.f Scotus returned from Paris to Oxford, where he for some time con- * Enfield'b Pliilosopliy. f Mosheim. ^- 2 s Ir 642 CLERICAL AND LITERARY. tinned to preach and write, with increasing^ celebrity. But ag-ain visiting Paris, he was tempted to make an effort to settle in a place which was the stage of his greatest celebrity. He continued to teach there for about one year, when he was summoned away by the gene- I'al of the Franciscans to Cologne. On his approach to Cologne, he was received with all the honour due to his reputation. Here he con- tinued his course of teaching to the numerous scholars whom hi, renown atti-acted, until his death. He was one day engaged in deliver- ing a lecture to a crov.'ded audience, when a sudden stroke of pai'alysis arrested his discourse ; it proved fatal in a few hours. His work, filled twelve massive folios — which remain a monument of his formid- able fertility ; and, considering that he died in his 42d year, present no slight illustration of the copious facility of a science which beg-an and ended in words and verbal distinctions — a science which rejected the restraint of facts and the limits of the understanding — and with a compassbeyond the grasp of Archimedes, pretended to wield infinity and omniscience without asldng for a ground on which to rest the lever of the schools. Such a state of knowledge may well awaken the interest of many readers, not conversant in the history of the period. For the benefit of such we must now attempt the performance of the promise with which we commenced this memoir; and as in the life of Sacrobosco we gave a cursory sketch of the science of the age, so we shall now offer some brief notice of the philosophy of the schools. The earlier writers of the church had derived their system of theo- logy from the scriptures. In the course of time, by a natural and very intelligible transition, these earlier divines themselves became the text-book of authoi-ity, and gradually began to occupy the place of the scriptures ; thus in the decline of literature and philosophy, leading grad- ually to their disuse. Theology, thus removed from its foundations, was thrown open to the bewildering ingenuity of speculation. The corrupted Platonism of the Alexandrian school, early adopted into the theological school, and largely infused into many of the ancient writers, became in some measure the substance of opinion and controversy ; and it is chiefly to the Irish schools of the middle ages that the honour is attributed of an idea which, though sadly misapplied, was yet in its principle not devoid of justness. It was proposed as a new discovery, that it was unworthy to take truths of such importance upon the opinions of falli- ble authorities, when they might themselves, by the exercise of rea- son, ascertain what was true from the original documents. But unfor- tunately, they were utterly devoid of any just knowledge of the use or the limits of reason. From the scripture — by the application of the most absurd system of metaphysics that ever was wiredrawn from sophistry and superstition, in the absence of common sense — they spun the sacred text into allegories and idealisms, that seem more like the ravings of deli- rium, than the sober interpretation of Divine truths revealed to human apprehension. Such briefly was the form taken by the ancient sect known by the name of Mystics, whose earlier history it does not suit our limits to enter upon. It is perhaps best understood to have arisen anew from the study of Augustine, whose writings it strongly tinctures, and who was a favourite in the cloisters of the middle ages. JOHN DUNS SCOTITS. 643 A weak glimmer of the peripatetic logic, existing in the same periods, seems to have had little influence in correcting this abuse : the early writers of the church had condemned the writings of Aristotle as incon- sistent with divine truth : and the only surviving remains of logical science seems to have been an imperfect system of dialectics ascribed to St Augustin, who was at one time an ardent follower of the Stoic philosophy. At length however an increased communication with Arabia, when about the twelfth century it became customary for learned men to travel in quest of knowledge, was the means of intro- ducing Saracenic translations of the works of Aristotle. The imme- diate consequence was an infusion of new opinions into the church, founded upon new methods of reasoning. The church, vigilant in the superintendence of opinion, soon found cause to check the growing evil. Several doctors tested by the jealous thermometer of orthodoxy, were found wanting* in the standard shade of Platonism — they were cited before councils, and had their books pub- licly burned — fortunate in preceding by a few years the period when they might have shared a common fate with their offending volumes. A general prohibition of the writings of Aristotle quickly ensued. At a somewhat earlier period such a prohibition would have been imperatively felt ; but it was a time when a fresh impulse had been im- parted to the human mind: the world was awaking from a long sleep, and men in every country of Europe began to look around for light. The orthodox bowed submission, but the schools were at the moment filled with the swarming race of a new generation, and the writings of Aristotle were zealously studied. The mind of the schools soon be- came largely infused with the elements of a new spirit; and the youth of the age grew up with a deeply imbued love of disputation and sub- tlety. The church itself felt and yielded to the strong reaction; and, when the growing- evil could no longer be suppressed, with its ever admirable tact and sagacity, endeavoured to neutralize and gradually adopt the perilous instrument of human reason. Fortunately for its views, some steps of progress were still wanting- to make the instru- ment dangerous. The love of logic grew; and it became the subject of loud complaint that disputation filled the schools with its noise, and occupied the place of all other study. Disputation became the pride and study of the scholar and the business of life — victory became the source of fame and the test of opinion. The consequence is easily in- ferred, for it was inevitable. Opinion thus became the end of all study, and took the place of the love of truth. The instincts of the mind were sophisticated; the subtle, word-splitting Scholastic was the fruit of this anomalous culture. A few words must here be said on the writings, which were the foundation of this corruption of human reason. The writings of Aristotle were but imperfectly understood by their Arabian transla- tors, and became additionally corrupt in the transfusion of a second medium. Originally obscure from the strictly scientific method of the Greek philosopher, and the total absence of those indirect artifices of style which are commonly used for illustration, an erroneous and fantastic commentary swelled the volume, and was received as the better part of its substance, so that to use the language of a historian, 644 CLERICAL AND LITERARY. the students were as much indebted to Averroes as to Aristotle. A philosophy at the same time corrupt, obscure, and peculiarly unadapted to the state of human knowledge at the period, gradually filled the schools. Its effects were in no respect beneficial — a generation unac- quainted with the uses of reasoning, and destitute of the first elements of real knowledge on which it must proceed, became smitten with a deep love of its forms. The syllogistic method — which accurately represents the operation of reasoning,* and offers both an excellent discipline to the intellect, and a certain test to the value of inference from ascer- tained premises — was mistaken for something which it did not pretend to be. It became, in the hands of subtle ignorance, a superstition of the intellect — a sort of vei'bal magic by which any thing could be proved. The forms of reason were substituted in the place of reason, and v^ords took the place of things : for nearly four hundred years the just progress of the human understanding was retarded by the quib- bling and interminable jargon of men like Aquinas and Scotus, and the German doctor Albertus, through whom the European schools became acquainted with the writings of the Stagyrite.| Thus misunderstood and misapplied, Aristotle, from being first opposed by the policy of the church, soon acquired universal domi- nion. " And so far from falling under the censure of councils and popes, the Aristotelian and Saracenic philosophy became the main pillars of the ecclesiastical hierarchy. In the year 1366, cardinals were ap- pointed by Urban to settle the manner in which the writings of Aristotle should be studied in the university of Paris: and in the year 1462, Charles VII. oi'dered the works of Aristotle to be read and publicly explained in that university. Thus the union between the peripatetic philosophy and the Christian religion was confirmed, and Aristotle became not only the Interpreter, but even the judge of St Paul.";}; Fi'om this period to the Reformation, the church and the universities resounded with dispute and frothy contentions, long and difficult to specify by clear and intelligible distinction: the Thomist and Scotist, of whom we have mentioned the leading- differences — the still more prolonged and vehement controversy of the Nominalists and Realists, which we shall fully state in our memoir of Bishop I?erkeley, with half a dozen main shades of opinion, were contested with idle words and not idle hands, in foaming disputation and sanguinary fray. The reformers in their tm-n produced a re-action, which, however salutary it must be admitted to have been in arresting the further advance of this state of philosophy, passed into the opposite extreme. Though it introduced a sound exercise of reason, and a return to the legitimate field of facts, yet by the law of opposition, so universally discernible in human opinion, they confounded the instrument with the vitiated use to which it had been applied. With the indiscriminate vigour of immature knowledge, in rejecting the doctrines they cast away all that was even accidentally in contact with them. In con- demning the adversary, the house in which he lived, the garb he wore, * See Whately's Logic for a satisfactory explanation on this lonj^ unnoticed fact, t Gillies' Introduction to Aristotle's Rhetoric. J Enfield's Abridgment of Brucker. JOHJSr DUNS SCOTUS. 645 the very grouud he trode on, grew criminal in their eyes. Among' the many extrinsic adjuncts of Romanism thus condemned, the vast intellectual outwork of the scholastic philosophy could not hope to escape; and the works of Aristotle, unhappily confounded with this tumid and inane excrescence of human reason, were denounced. — " With the light of the gospel," writes Mr Gillies, " the champions of the Reformation dispelled the pestilent exhalations, and disparted the gorgeous but cloud- built castles with which the schoolmen had sur- rounded a fortress of adamant ; for the genuine philosophy of Aris- totle remained entire, unhurt, and alike concealed from the combatants on either side. The reformers, engaged in an infinitely greater under- taking, were not concerned in distinguishing the master from his unworthy scholars, and in separating the gold from the dross."* The violence of opposition, which was the speedy result of this indiscrimi- nating bvit perfectly natural (and not unjustifiable) spirit, pursued the Stagyrite to his last retreats, the walls of colleges. The general reader of the present age will easily indeed recall the reproaches of the light-armed and superficial skirmishers of modern reviews and pamphlets discharged against the university of Oxford, on the score of the assumed worship of Aristotle. His works, only known to some of the leading writers of the very last generation, through the same impure sources from which they Avere presented to Scotus and his clamorous fraternity, were ignorantly ^issailed, and as ignorantly defended. The profound and elementary comprehension of Bacon, the perspicacious common sense of the admirable Locke, handed down the same subtle errors to the essentially scholastic intellect of Hume. Kames, Harris, Monboddo, Reid, and Stewart, all combined, in more or less specious inaccuracy and misapprehension; and it seems to have remained for the latest writings which have proceeded from the universities of Dublin and Oxford, to dispel the false medium either by strong remonstrance or clear and demonstrative exposition. To the leading writers who might be noticed at length on this subject, we have given as much notice as the summary character of our under- taking permits. We shall conclude this notice with an extract from one of the most distinguished writers of the age — an illustrious ornament of our Irish university, whose memoir must hereafter give value and interest to our pages — the late worthy and able prelate, archbishop Magee. " It has been singularly the fate of the Greek philosopher, to be at one time superstitiously venerated, and at another contemptuously ridiculed, without sufficient pains taken, either by his adversaries or his admirers, to understand his meaning. It has been too frequently his misfortune to be judged from the opinions of his followers rather than his own. Even the celebrated Locke is not to be acquitted of this unfair treatment of his illustrious predecessor in the paths of metaphysics; although, perhaps, it is not too much to say of his well known essay, that there is scarcely to be found in it one valuable and important truth concerning the operations of the under- standing, which may not be traced in Aristotle's writings ; whilst, at the same time, they exhibit many results of deep thinking, which have * Prefact to Aristotle's Ebetorir, p. 23. 646 LITERARY. entirely escaped Locke's perspicacity. ludeed, it may be generally pronounced of those who have, within the two last centuries, been occupied in the investigation of the intellectual powers of man, that had they studied Aristotle more, and (what would have been a necessary consequence) reviled him less, they would have been more successful in their endeavoui's to extend the sphere of human knowledge."* This curious transition of human knowledge has led us on to a length of remark which we do not consider due to Scotus; unless, perhaps, it be considered, that the eminence which he attained in the sophistry of his age, must still have been the result of some highly distinguished intellectual powers. They were uuliappdy wasted gifts. His volu- minous works, too long for the narrow period assigned to human study, repose with monumental silence and oblivion on the shelves of learned libraries — the too quiet habitations of the unmolested spider, who builds in their safe obscurity, and emulates their laboiu"s with skill as fine and less abused. If in a listless moment the student casts his wandering eye over the ponderous masses of unopened lore which seem to encumber the shelves of neglected school divines, his mind may be crossed by a reflection on the vast toil of thought and earnest stress of passion, the years of study and ambitious hope to gain distinction, which were melted down in the accumulation of those most neglected labours. He may thus be conducted by a widely different track to the same feelings, which the moral poet has expressed in the most simply just and eloquent strain which human pen ever wrote, upon the ■vanities of this life of wasted faculties and fleeting duration : — " Perhaps in this neglected spot is lairl, Some mind once pregnant with celestial fire; Hands which the rod of empires might have swayed, Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre." III. LITEKARY. ANNALISTS, HISTORIANS, AND POETS WRITING IN THE IRISH LANGUAGE. The editor begs to apologize to the Irish historical student for the omission in the following chronological summary of numerous names that might fitly be included under this class. So little is known of their personal history, that he could not avoid the consideration, that the space they must have occupied in this series would be altogether too much for a popular work, and would be regarded as objectionable by the numerous readers who cannot be assumed to look beyond the amusement of a leisure hour. A small selection has been made of those most noticed by antiquarian writers: or which are noticeable for any special circumstances. To the general reader it may be observed, that all the persons here mentioned were illustrious in their day, and have * Mafree on the Atonement. ANNALISTS, HISTORIANS, AND POETS, &c. 647 some claim to be so still. Their writings are extant, and form a curious and unique department of national literature. Of some of these we can offer no further account than the mention of their works; and a few are withheld, because we shall have to notice their writings more at large under the general head of Irish literature. Mal Suthain O'Carroll, is remarkable for having been the writer who commenced the Annals of Innisfallen. Of these important docu- ments we have had occasion to give some account at an earlier period. Generally speaking, the more important portions of tlie literature of this and several following centuries, can only be viewed with advantage, in their collective character, and in those later times, when their record closes and the history of their transmission (the most important question in which they are concerned,) comes before us: — Of the general his- tory of the literature of this period, we have already given some short account under the lives of Scotus and John Halifax. During the greater part of the period, literature must be considered as on the de- cline in Ireland. There nevertheless wanted not accomplished Irish scholars in every department then existing. The following small selec- tion from numerous names, exhibit the fact that poetry at least was not wanting. Of the illustrious O'Carroll, we can only add, that he was not only one of the most learned monks of the island, but of his time, and had the added distinction of high birth. He died, according to the Four Masters, in the year 1009. Ireland, of all countries in the world, is best entitled to the appel- lation of the "Land of Song," from her early writers being almost invariably poets, and verse having been selected as the easiest and simp- lest medium for conveying their thoughts, whether the topic was religion, war, or individual history. Among these, Mac Liag takes a very prominent place, being honoured by the title of " chief poet of Ireland," besides being the friend and chief antiquary of Brian Boroimhe. He was the son of Conkeartach, a doctor or professor of some eminence, and early became a favourite with his royal master, whose " fifty battles" he enthusiastically commemorates, and whose triumphant fall on the plains of Clontarf, he so pathetically but proudly details. His chief writings are " the Munster Book of Battles," which gives the most authentic detail of the encounters with the Danes, down to the battle of Clontarf; a life of Brian Boroimhe ; a poem of an hundred and sixty verses upon the descendants of Cas, son of Conal Each Luath, king of Munster; and one of nearly the same length, on the twelve sons of Kennedy, father of Brian Boroimhe; also three sepa- rate poems, lamenting the fall of Brian, and strongly expressive of his own personal grief on the event; one beginning, "Oh Cinn-coradh, where is Brian;" another, "Westward came the fall of Brian;" and. the last, which was written in the Hebrides, where Mac Liag went after the death of Brian, begins, "Long to be without delight," and 648 LITERARY. bitterly mourns over his own lost happiness, and the desolation of Cinn-coradh. His death took place, according to the Four Masters, in 1015. Er.vrd M.\.C Coisi, one of the historians of Ireland, and " chief chronicler of the Gaels," carried on a literary contest of some lengtli with Donough, son of Brian Boroimhe, in the course of which Donougli asserts the superiority of his father, and the Munster troops over Maol- seachlainn, in a poem of an hundred and ninety-two verses, while Erard, who was secretary to the Leinster king, contends with equal warmth for tlie more doubtful pre-eminence of his own master. He died in Clonmacnoise in the year lO'iiJ. CuAN O'LoCHAiN, who was considered the most learned antiquarian and historian of his time, was made joint regent of Ireland with Core- ran, a clergyman, on the death of Maolseacldainn. His virtues and talents were of a very high order, and he was the author of various poems ; one of them descriptive of the splendour of the royal palace of Tarah, in the time of Cormae Mac Art, monarch of Ireland; another, on the rights and privileges of the monarcli, and provincial kings of Ireland: the first of an liundred and eighty verses, and the next of an hundred and forty-eight; besides a poem of fifty-six verses, on the origin of the name of the river Shannon. The annals of Tighernach, Innisfixllen, and the Four Masters state his having been killed in Teathbha, in 1024. DuBDALETiiY or DuDLET, archbishop of Armagh, was son of Mcelbury, senior lecturer of divinity in that city. He wrote annals of Ireland, beginning at 962, and ending 1021, which are quoted both in the Ulster Annals, and by the Four Masters. He was highly esteemed for his learning both in Ireland and Scotland; and when in tiie year 1050, he made a circuit of Cineal Conaill, he obtained three hundred cows from the people of that country. Colgan says, that he also wrote an account of the archbisliops of Armagh down to his own time. He died the 1st of Sept., 10G5. GlOLLA Caoimhghin, One of the most celebrated poets and historians of Ids time, has left a variety of historical and chronological writings in verse, some of tliem upwards of six hundred verses in length. One commences with the creation, and is carried down to the year in which he died. He divides his chronology into different eras, and gives tiie names of several memorable persons who lived in each period. There is a fine copy of this in the possession of Sir Wm. Betham. Another poem gives the names of the ancestors of the chief line of the Gaels, from tlie dispersion at Babel to their establishment in Spain. Copies of this are in the books of Ballimote and Leacan, in the library of the royal Irish academy. He has also written a poem of six hundred and ANNALISTS, HISTORIANS, AND POETS, &c. 649 tliirt^'-tuo verses, which was one of the chief documents on which OTlaherty founded his tecluiical chronology. Tliis poem gives an account of the first colonization of Ireland, and enumerates all tlie monarchs that reigned until the time of Laogliaire, a. d. 432, when St. Patrick first introduced Christianity into Ireland. Copies of this, are also in the books of Ballimote and Leacan. A poem on the Chris- tian kings of Ireland, of an hundred and fifty-two verses, has been attributed to him, but some authorities give it to Conaing O'Mael- conaire. In another poem he gives the names and number of the Milesian monarchs that reigned in Ireland, specifying from which of the sons of Golamh each king descended. In the same poem he gives the names of the kings who ruled in Ireland of the Pir-Bolg and Tuatha-de-Danan races. Giolla died 1072. TiGERNACH, abbot of Clon-mac-noise, wrote the annals of Ireland, partly in Latin, and partly in Irisli, from the reign of Cimbaeth, king of Ulster, and monarch of Ireland, a. m. 3596, to his own time. They were continued by Augustin M'Grath to the year of our Lord 1405, Avlien ho died. A copy of these annals is in the librai'y of Trinity College, Dublin, and is amongst the most valuable of the existing materials for Irish historv. Tigernach died in 1072. GiLLACHRlST Ua Maeileoin, according to the learned editor of that work — as recently (1867) published with notes and an English translation for the British government, in that valuable series of histo- rical works known as the "Eolls Publications," under the direction of the Master of the Rolls, by Mr. William Henessy — was the compiler of that valuable contribution to a future history of Ireland, the " Chroni- con Scottorum." He was abbot of that oft-levelled yet still surviving abbey of Clonmacnoise, whence the equally useful earlier " Chronicle of Tighernach," and many other works of Irish character have proceeded; and died in that office in 1 1 27. Though by no means equal in im- portance to the earlier chronicle above named, or to " The Annals of tlie Four Masters," it is valuable alike as supplementary, — containing various matters which they omit, — and as confirmatory; giving the same accounts, but derived, to a greater or less extent, from independent sources. Singularly enough, altliough with only exception of a few lines in one or two places written in the Irish character, it is composed partly in Latin and partly in Irish; sentences in each language lying side by side, and intermixed continuously throughout it. Tanaidhe O'Mulconaire wrote two historical poems, one giving an account of the kings of the race of Firbolg, who possessed Ireland before the arrival of the Tuatha-de-Danan, and wliose descendants retained a great part of the island until after the introduction of Chris- tianity; the other gives the names of the seven kings of the Tuatha-de- Danan race, who ruled Ireland for an hundred and ninety-seven years; it also mentions the arrival of the Milesians, a. ji. 2935. Tliere are copies of both these poems in the book of Invasions by the 0"Cler}s. Tanaidhe died in 1136. GlOLLA MODHUDA O'Cassidy, Otherwise called Dull Clairineach, abbot of Ardbracean in Meath, was a very learned man, a good histo- rian, and a poet. As usual at that time, he wrote liis histories in verse. In one of them he gives a catalogue of the Christian monarchs of Ire- land, with the number of years that each king reigned, from the time of Leogaire, a. d. 428, to the death of Maelseachlin 11., 1022. In a poem of two hundred and forty-four verses, besides enumerating the kings, he shows how many of each name reigned ; and in another, of three hundred and seventy four ranns* of irregular verses, he gives the names of the wives and mothers of the kings and chiefs of Ireland of tlie Milesian race. GioUa died, according to the best authorities, in 1143, though in one of the verses of the last mentioned-poem (which is to be found in the book of Leacan), it is stated that it was written in 1147. GriOLLA O'DuNN, chief bard to the king of Leinster, wrote many ]ioems which are preserved in the books of Leacan and Ballimote, chiefly connected with Leinster, which he calls " the province of the tombs of kings." One of his poems describes the tribes that sprung from the sons of Milesius, and from Liighaid, and the districts possessed bv them; and another gives an account of the chief tribes descended from the three Collas, sons of Cairbre, monarch of Ireland, who was killed near Tara in Meath 286, after a reign of seventeen years. Giolladied 1160. Amongst the writers of this period, Maurice O'Regan takes a pro- minent place, from the importance of tiie events with which his life and writings are connected. He was a native of Leinster, and was employed by Dermod MacMurrough, king of that province, to whom he was secretary and interpreter, as ambassador to Strongbow, Robert Pitzstephen, and other English nobles, to entreat their aid for the recovery of his kingdom, from which, as we have before related, he was expelled by Roderick O'Connor, and other Irish chiefs, for the abduction of Devorgoil, the wife of O'Rourke. O'Regan wrote with much accuracy, a history of the aftairs of Ireland during his own time, in his native tongue, and this composition was translated by a friend, into French verse. In the reign of Elizabeth it was again translated into English by Sir George Carew, president of Ireland, and after- wards earl of Totness. O'Regan was sent by Dermod and Strongbow to demand the surrender of Dublin, when they were on their way to besiege it, and all his details are given with the animation of an eye- witness. His history embraces the events of about three years, from the invasion of Strongbow, in the year 1168, to the siege of Limei'ick, * Each rann consists of four verses. ANNALISTS, HISTOEIANS, AND POETS, &c. 651 in 1171, about which period it is supposed, that he either died, or was killed, as his history ends abruptly at this event. Murray or Marian O'Gorman, abbot of Knock, near Louth, was contemporary with llegan. He wrote a niartyrology in verse, respect- ing which the statements of Ware and Colgan are rather at variance. The former says that he published a supplement to the martyrology of -^ngus, in 1171, while Colgan states tliat O'Grorman wrote a martyr- ology in most elegant Irish verse in the time of Gelasius, archbishop of Armagh, about the year 1167, which is held in great esteem, and ever will be so, for the beauty of the style, and great fidelity of the perform- ance. This (he continues) is, for the most part, collected out of the -^ngusian martyrology, as an old scholiast, in his preface to that work, says; and further, that O'Gorman does not confine himself to the prin- cipal saints of Ireland alone, but takes in promiscuously tliose of other countries. Conor O'Kelly, who died a. d. 1220, wrote a metrical history of his own tribe, the O'Kellys, chiefs of Hy-maine, an ancient district now compreliended in the counties of Gahvay and Roscommon. It is preserved among the Irish manuscripts in the Marquis of Buckingham's library at Stowe. On the death of Matthew O'Eeilly, in the year 1293, his brother, Giolla Tosa Roe O'Reilly, succeeded him in the government of the principality of East Brefny. He was learned, prudent, brave, and vic- torious, and he extended his territory from Drogheda to Rath Cruachan, now the county of Roscommon. In the year 1300 he built and endowed the monastery of Cavan, in which he erected a chapel and marble monu- ment as a place of sepulture for himself and family. He was recognised by Edward the Second, as one of the chief princes of Ireland, who addressed him, '•' dilecto sibi Gillys O'Reilly Duce Hibernicorum de Breifeney," &c., when he wrote a circular letter to the Irish princes requesting their aid against the Scotch. Giolla appointed his nephew Maelsachlain as his successor, and resigned his principality to him in the year 1326, Avhen he retired to the monastery of Cavan, where he continued for the remainder of his life, venerated for his wisdom and sanctity. He died in 1330. He wrote two poems, one of them on the death of his brother Matthew, and the other, extolling the power and extent of territoiy possessed by his nephew and successor. John O'Dugan, chief poet of O'Kelly of Ibh Maine, wrote a poem of five hundred and sixty-four verses, giving an account of the kings of Ireland, from Slainge of theFir-Bolgian race, who, in conjunction with his four brothers, began to reign over Ireland, a. m. 2245, to Roderick 652 LITERARY. O'Conor, last monarch of Ireland. A copy of this poem is in tlie pos- session of Sir William Betham, He also wrote a topographical and historical poem of nearly nine hundred verses, giving tlie names of the pi'incipal tribes of Ulster. Con- naught, and Meath, with their chiefs at tlie time of Henry H. ; but left this work unfniished. — It was completed by Griolla na Naomh O'lluid- brin, who wrote the entire of the history of Munster and its chieftains, and nearly the whole of that relative to Leinster. A perfect copy of this poem remains in the handwriting of Cucoigcriche O'Clery, one of the Four Masters. He also wrote a poem recording the kings of Leinster, descended from the thirty sons of Cathaoir Mor, monarch of Ireland, and another, giving a catalogue of the kings of Cashel, from the time of Core 380, to that of Tirlogh O'Brien, 1367. A copy of this is in the book of Ballimote. Another poem describes the actions of Cormac Mae Art, monarch of Ireland ; but the most curious of all is one upon the festi- vals, with rules for finding the moveable feasts and fasts by the epacts and dominical letters, and its rules still regulate the practice of many who have never seen this poem. He also wrote a poetical vocabulary of obsolete words which has since been adopted into dictionaries. O'Dugan died in 1372, and O'Huidbrin survived him for nearly fifty vears. Maiion O'Reilly, lord of clan Mahon, who died a. d. 1380, wrote a poetical eulogy on his son Thomas, prince of East Brefne, who dis- tinguished himself by the impetuosity of liis valour, and his successful resistance against the English, having in a short period levelled eighteen castles belonging to tlie pale, and laid the country from Drogheda to Dublin under contribution. Magnus O'Duignan, who lived a. d. 1390, is chiefly Known in con- nection with the book of Ballimote, on different pages of which his name is signed, but it seems uncertain what precise share he had in the composition; whether he was the compiler or merely the transcriber of those portions of that celebrated book to which his name is appended. We shall therefore, here, in the absence of all personal detail respecting O'Duignan, proceed to mention such facts respecting this book as have come to our knowledge. It is described by O'Reilly " as a large folio volume, written on vellum of tlie largest size ; " it contained originally 550 pages, but the two first are wanting. As usual in the history of books of this class, it passed down through the hands of numerous possessors. A portion of it appears, on the authority of the volume itself, to have been written in the reign of Tirlogh O'Conor, king of Con- naught, who died 1404 ; and by an entry, p. 180, vol. I., " in a hand- writing different from any other part of the book, it appears tiiat Hugh Duff, son of Hugh Eoe, son of Niall Garoe O'Donell, bought it in the year 1522, from M'Donogh of Coran, for one hundred and fort}' milch cows." The matter of this volinne is compiled from a great variety of an- cient MSS., of which the principal are yet extant, thus receiving and imparting to these venerable documents the authority of so much ira- ])ortance to MS. documents. The modern history of this valuable MS. must be regarded as espe- cially curious and interesting. It had belonged to the library of Trinity College, Dublin, from which it was either purloined or fraudu- lently detained. Vallency gives an account of the book of Leacan, which, with good reason, is supposed by JNIr. O'Reilly to have actual reference to the book of Ballimote. The General mentions that Doctor Raymond, about the year 1790, lent a book out of the college library to a person of the name of M'Naghten; from M'Naghten it was stolen by one Egan, from whom it came into the possession of Jmlge Marley, whose servant he was; and remained in the Judge's library till his death. It was then by some means conveyed to the Lombard college in Paris. That this account is mainly conjectural is apparent on its very face, and the Abbe Geoghegan states that the book of Leacan had long before been transferred to the Irish college in Paris by James II. ; a fact formally attested by a notary. According to this statement, the book lent to M'Naghten could not have been the book of Leacan. There is, on the other hand, strong reason to suppose the book of Bal- limote to have been that which was lent to M'Naghten — as there is among the MSS. in the college library a copy in the hand of M'Naghten. It would, then, be the high probability, that having lost the original, which he had borrowed through the interposition of Raymond for the purpose of transcription, that he, in compensation, gave his paper copy to the college. From the mark and memoranda on the co]iy in the Academy, it is inferred by O'Reilly, that it was in 1769, in the hands of O'Dor- nin of Drogheda, " a good Irish scholar," and remained with him till 1774. It then probably came into the possession of the college. The next hand to which it seems to be traced with any certainty is that of the Chevalier O'Gorman, who presented it to the Royal Irish Academy. Dermod O'Conor, who translated Keating, mentions having obtained the " book of Ballimore in the county of Meath by the kindness of Dr. Anthony Raymond of Trim, who entered into a bond of a thousand pounds, security for its safe return."* This statement is questioned by O'Reilly, who infers that the book in question was the book of Bal- limote. He observes that no Irish scholar ever heard of a book of Bal- limore in Meath ; and confirms his inference by the numerous errors in O'Conor's translation, which he considers sufficient to prove that " he could make nothing " of the book of Ballimote. The conjecture that this was the book of Ballimote receives some additional probability from the circumstance that Bishop Nicholson, who mentions this book twice, calls it once "the book of Ballimore." O'Conor may have caught the word, and referred the book to the place with which he was most familiar. One more observation we cannot avoid adding in favour of this sup- * Preface to Keating's Ireland. position, tliough personally we have no present means of verifying it. The enumeration of the contents of this book by O'Conor* is not in accordance with that of Mr. O'Reilly. For this fact, if correct, we must be content to refer to the several books, as those who choose to verify it must be already in possession of the means. Keating mentions the Psalter of Tara, and the book of Arma, p. 33. 676 LITERAEY. convey the true character of a remote age, — it is to be inferred only from an intense realization of circumstances to be laboriously gleaned from a large collation of remains and records: but the nearest approach must ever be made, by a fair allowance for the representation of the poet, and the record of transmitted customs and superstitions. The real spirit of the public mind of the age of Elizabeth was not materially varied from the quaint and simple character of many pre- vious generations — a few loftier pinnacles had emerg-ed into the upward beams of morning light — but the plains and valleys lay in twilight. The fairy people played their feats and gambols on the forest glade — and the bar -ghosts and goblins of midnight were indistinctly visible. The student still endeavoured to draw responses from the stars — or brooded ever the furnace and crucible, in the feverish vigil of " hope deferred." The Gothic pageantry — the chivalric spirit of all the quaint solemnities with which a long lapse of ages of growing civiliza- tion had endeavoured to refine and ornament life, held a customary sway over the mind of every class and order, and moulded the age. These features are apparent in a multitude of ancient writers now little known, and may be traced in every record of manners in the Elizabethan ag-e. Amid the splendour of the genius and wisdom of that glorious age, may be discerned the ghastly empiricism which passed for knowledge — the absurd traditions which passed for history — the quaint and scholastic, but often just and lofty ethics, stiffened with a pasteboard panoply of conceits and allegories by the taste for mysti- cism Avhich is so congenial to the infancy of knowledge, as well as by the seemingly opposite but equally allied tendency to give a palpable form and representation to the invisible and spiritual. Hence indeed the gorgeous masques, moralities and mysteries, with their grotesque and cumbrous machinery of virtues, graces, and mythologic beings, the delight of that generation to which they were fraught with an intense ideal and moral interest, unintelligible to the children of our shrewd age. " In the reign of queen Elizabeth," says Warton, " a popular ballad was no sooner circulated than it was converted into a moralization." The moralization passed into a pageantry, which was but a costly improvement on the cap and bells of simpler times. In a coarse and simple age the passions are likely to occupy a prominent place in the productions of taste or fancy. " No doubt " writes an author of that period, " the cause that books of learn- ing seem so hard, is, because such and so great a scull of amarouse pamphlets have so preoccupied the eyes and ears of men, that a mul- titufle believe there is none other style or phrase worth gramercy. No books so rife or so friendly read, as be these books. But if the setting out of the wanton tricks of a pair of lovers, as for example, let them be called Sir Chaunticleere and Dame Partilote, to tell how their first combination of love began, bow their eyes floated, and how they anchered, their beams mingled one with the other's beauty. Then, of their perplexed thoughts, their throes, their faulies, their dryric drifts, now interrupted, now unperfitted, their love days, their sugred words, and their sugred joys. Afterwards, how envious fortune, through this chop or that channer, turned their bless to bale, severing two such beautiful faces and dutiful hearts," &c. We have made so long an extract because, though much of this ridicule is equally appli- caole to the love tale of any age, it represents the fiction of the Eliza- bethan, with the precision of a general formula for practice ; and will be found to have a peculiar though much refined and purified applica- tion to the Fairi) Queen, In a period when the scope of literature was confined and its style unfinished and unfixed ; the classical writers of antiquity, then but recently revived, and having the fresh charm of novelty added to their simple unapproachable excellence, were seized upon with avidity and eager enthusiasm. They furnished a range of ideas which mingled with the Gothic associations of ancient English literature, and gave rise to those strange and monstrous mixtures of Christian and mythological personages so frequently to be met in the Fairy Queen, as well as other poems of the age.* An amusing example of this may be found, Book I. Cant. IV., where Pluto's daughter is described on a party of pleasure : — " And after all upon the wagon beam Rode Satan with a smarting whip in hand." Still more deeply infused into the spirit of the age, were the super- stitions of every various kind, whether from the corruptions of religion, or the popular notions of magic, witchcraft, judicial astrology, and alchemy. These absurdities were beginning to be displaced by the growing philosophy of a period of transition, and as they were less en- tertained as realities, they became more the elementary spirit of the poet. They had not yet evaporated into mere inanity before the full daylight of reason and religious truth, and had just enough of super- stitious charm to give them form to the imagination. The same might be repeated of the magnificent and gorgeous "• pomp and circumstance" of chivalry : its feelings and aspirations yet mingled in the upper air of social life. It gave the law to pride and sentiment — it yet continued to elevate and inspire the hero's and the lovei-'s breast ; and could not fail to be vitally blended with poetry. Not to exhaust a topic which would carrv us too far for our imme- diate purpose, such are the characteristic elements of Spenser's great poem. For something he was indebted, (if it can be so termed,) to the poetry of his great patron Sydney, whose strange intermixture of Italian pastoral and Gothic romance, produced a powerful impression on the age. From these materials, was combined the lengthened tissue of romantic tales of adventure, in which religion and superstition — romance and pastoral — knights, witches, sorcerers, tourneys and en- chantments, mingle in pretty equal proportions — all blended together into that medium of allegory which Avas the palpable poetry of the age. While we may look for the high and solemn strain of moral sentiment which is diffused throughout, to the character" of the poet's own mind, * It is curious to notice the misapplication of general facts, as well as rules, by those whose minds range within a narrow scope. The fault here noticed is little known to the generality of readers, because the writers who have committed thetn are not generally read. But the impression that some such thing has been found fault with, has sjiven rise to a common charge against Milton, who has combined with singular effect and proprietv the heathen and scriptural mythologies, by seiz- ing on the real principle of relation between them. and the general colouring of the descriptions to the scenery of Irish woods ; the wild wood path of adventure — which leads or misleads the errant knight or the forlorn lady, till they light on the shepherd's hut, the robber's castle, or the wizard's cell — could nowhere else be found in such living representation. We shall conclude these remarks with some description of the poem, the materials of which we have endeavoured to enumerate. This por- tion of our undertaking is done to our hand by the author himself, in a letter to Raleigh: — To the right noble and valourous, Sir Walter Raleigh, knight, Lord Warden of the Stanneries, and her Majestifs lieutenant of the count i) of Cornwall. " Sir, Knowing how doubtfully all allegories may be construed, and this book of mine, which I have entitled the Fairy Queen, being a continued allegory, or dark conceit ; I have thought good, as well for avoiding of zealous opinions and misconstructions, as also for your better light in reading thereof, (being so by you comnianded,) to dis- cover unto you the general intention and meaning, which in the whole course thereof I have fashioned, without expressing of any particular purposes or by-accidents therein occasioned. The general end therefore of all the book, is to fashion a gentleman or noble person, in vertuous and gentle discipline; — which for that I conceived should be most plausible and pleasing, being coloured with an historical fiction, the which the most part of men delight to read, rather for variety of matter, than for profit of the ensample : I chose the history of king Arthur as most fit for the excellency of his person ; being made famous by many men's former works, and also furthest from the danger of envy and suspicion of present time : and in which I have followed all the an- tique poets historical. First, Homer, who in the persons of Agamemnon and Ulysses hath ensampled a good governor and a vertuous man — the one in his Iliad the other in his Odysseis; then Virgil, whose like intention was to do in the person of ^neas ; after him, Ariosto com- prised them both in his Orlando ; and lately Tasso dissevered them again, and formed both parts in two persons ; namely, that part which they, in philosophy call ethice, or vertues of a private man, coloured in his Rinaldo ; the other named politice, in his Godfredo. By ensample of which excellent poets they labour to pourtraict in Arthur, before he was king, the image of a brave knight perfected in the twelve pri- vate moral virtues, as Aristotle hath devised; the which is the purpose of these twelve books : which if I find to be well excepted, I may be, perhaps encouraged to frame the other part of politick vertues in his person, after that he came to be king. <' To some, I know this method will seem to be displeasant ; which had rather have good discipline plainly in way of precepts, or sermoned at large, as they use, than thus cloudly enwrapped in allegorical de- vices. But such me seem, should be satisfied with the use of these days, seeing all things accounted by their shows, and nothing esteemed of, that is not delightful and pleasing to common sense, for this cause is Xenophon preferred before Plato; for that the one, in the exquisite depth of his judgment formed a commonwealth, such as it should be; EDMUND SPENSER. C79 but the other in the person of Syrus and the Persians fashioned a government, such as might best be ; so have I laboured to do in the person of Arthur ; whom I conceive, after his long education by Timon (to whom he was by Merlin, delivered to be brought up, so soon as he was born of the lady Igrane,) to have seen in a dream or vision, the fairy queen with whose excellent beauty ravished, he awaking, resolved to seek her out ; and so being by Merlin armed, and by Timon tho- roughly instructed he went to seek her forth in fairy. In that fairy queen, I mean glory in my general intention; but in my particular, I conceive, the most excellent and glorious person of our sovereign, the queen and her kingdom in fairy-land. And yet in some places else J do otherwise shadow her. For considering she beareth two persons, the one of a most royal queen or empress, the other of a most virtuous and beautiful lady ; this latter part, in some places, I do express in Belphoebe: fashioning her name according to your own excellent con- ceit of Cynthia; Phcebe and Cynthia being both names of Diana. So in the person of prince Arthur, I set forth ^nagnijicence in particular : which vertue, for that (according to Aristotle and the rest) it is the perfection of all the rest, and containeth in it them all ; therefore in the whole course, I mention the deeds of Arthur applicable to that vertue, which I write of in that book. But of the twelve other vertues, I make twelve other knights the patrons, for the more variety of the history : of which these three books contain three. The first, of the knights of the red cross, in whom I express holiness ; the second, of Sir Gugon, in whom I set forth temperance ; the third of Britoman- tis, a lady knight, in whom I picture chastity. But because the begin- ning of the whole work seemeth abrupt, and as depending upon other antecedents, it needs that ye know the occasion of these three knights' several adventures. For the method of a poet historical, is not such of an historiographer ; for an historiographer discourseth of affairs orderly as they are done, accounting as well the times as the actions: but a poet thrusteth into the middest, even where it most concerneth him ; and there recoursing to the things forepast, and devining of things to come, maketh a pleasing analysis of all. The beginning' therefore of my history, if it were to be told by an historiog'rapher, should be the twelfth book, which is the last; where I devise, that the Fairy Queen kept her annual feast twelve days ; upon which twelve several days the occasions of the twelve several adventurers happened, which being undertaken by twelve several knights, are in these twelve books severally handled and discoursed. " The first was this. In the beginning of the feast there presented himself a tall clownish young man ; who falling before the queen of the fairies, desired a boon (as the manner then was) which during the feast, she might not refuse : which was, that he might have the atchiev- ment of any adventure which, during that feast should happen. That being granted, he rested himself on the floor, unfit, through his rusti- city, for a better place. Soon after entred a fair lady in mourning weeds, riding on a white ass with a dwarf behind her leading a war- like steed, that bore the armour of a knight, and his spear in the dwarfs hand, she falling before the queen of the fairies, complained that her father and mother, an ancient king and queen, had been by an huo^e dragon, many years shut up in a brazen castle ; who thence suffred them not to issue ; and therefore besought the fairy queen to assi"-n her some one of her knights to take on him the exploit. Pre- sently that clownish person upstarting, desired that adventure : whereat the queen much wondering, and the lady much gainsaying, yet he earnestly importuned his desire. In the end, the lady told him, unless that armour which she brought, would serve him, (that is the armour of a Christian man specified by St Paul, Ephes. v.) that he could not succeed in that enterprise ; which being forthwith put upon him, with due furnitures thereunto, he seemed the goodliest man in all that com- pany, and was well liked of the lady. And eftsoons taking on him knighthood, and mounting on that strange courser, he went forth with her on that adventure ; where beginueth the first book, viz : — " A gentle knight was pricking on the plain," &c. " The second day there came in a palmer, bearing an infant, with bloody hands ; whose parents he complained to have been slain by an enchanti-ess, called Acrasia ; and therefore craved of the fairy queen to appoint him some knight to perform that adventure : which being assigned to Sir Guyon, he presently went forth with that same palmer, which is the beginning of the second book, and the whole subject thereof. The third day there came in a groom, who complained before the fairy queen that a vile enchanter, called Busirane, had in hand a most fair lady, called Amoretta ; whom he kept in most griev- ous torment, because she would not yield him the pleasure of her body. Whereupon Sir Scudamour, the lover of that lady, presently took on him that adventure. But being unable to perform it by reason of the hard enchantments, after long sorrow, in the end met with Britoman- tis, who succoured him, and rescued his love. " But by occasion hereof, many other adventures are intermeddled, but rather as accidents, than intendments : as the love of Britomart, the overthrow of Marinell, the misery of Florimell, the virtuousness of Belphoebe, the lasciviousness of Hellenora, and many the like. " This much, sir, I have briefly over-run, to direct your understanding to the well-head of the history ; that from thence gathering the whole intention of the conceit, ye may as in a handful gripe all the discourse : which otherwise may haply seem tedious and confused. So humbly craving the continuance of your favour towards me, and the eternal establishment of your happiness, I humbly take leave, " Your most humbly afi'ectionate, " Edmund Spenser. '' 13d January, 1589." RICHAKD STANIHURST. DIED A. D. 1G18. The father of Stanihurst was a lawyer, and the recorder of Dublin. He was also speaker of the Irish House of Commons, and died in 1573, asred 5 1 . RICHARD STANIHURST. 681 Richard received the first i-udiments of education in Dublin, fx-oni whence he was sent to Oxford, where he was admitted in 1563, in University college. Having graduated, he entered as a student, first at Furnival's Inn, and then at Lincoln's. He next appears to have returned to Ireland, where he married a daughter of Sir Charles Barnwall, knight, with whom he returned to resume his studies in London; here his wife died in childbirth, at Knightsbridge, 1579- Having changed his religion, he left England, and went to live at Leyden, where his course is not vei-y distinctly traceable, though it is certain that he acquired great reputation among the learned, for his scholarship and his writing's. He was uncle to the celebrated Primate Usher, who was the son of his sister, and took great pains to convert his nephew to his own faith. Having entered into holy orders, he became chaplain to the archduke of Austria, and died in the Netherlands in 1618. He left one son who became a Jesuit, and died 1663. Stauihurst is now chiefly known by his " Descriptio Hiberniae," a work in the hands of every student of Irish history and antiquity. It is described by Bishop Nicholson as " highly commendable," with the exception of some tedious and frivolous digressions. He translated four books of Virgil, in a style which has entitled him to be distin- guished by critics and commentators, with unusual, but not undeserved severity. He seems to have been utterly devoid of all perception of the essential distinction between burlesque and serious poetry. A distinguished modern poet and critic sums up all that can be said in these words, " As Chaucer has been called the well of English undefiled, so might Stanihurst be called the common sewer of the language. It seems impossible that a man could have written in such a style, without intending to burlesque what he was about, and yet it is certain that Stanihurst intended to write heroic poetry. His version is exceeding rare, and deserves to be reprinted for its incomparable oddity."* To our apprehension, the burlesque of Stanihurst represents but the extreme of the defects to which there is a universal tendency among the poets of his time ; the most free from burlesque, the loftiest in conception, and most harmonious in metre, seem every now and then to have a narrow escape. Stanihurst would have been burlesque at any time ; he was no poet, and wrote when the distinction between different departments of literature were little understood; a person having the name of a scholar, wrote English verse for the same reasons that such persons now write Latin verse. But it must be also said, that the sense of the age was very obtuse on the subject of burlesque. More than half their representations of the solemn, terrific, or sublime, were undoubtedly burlesque. But it must be remembered, that nothing is laughable but by association. We give the following, examples from Warton. " He calls Chorebus, one of the Trojan chiefs, a Bedlamite ; he says that old Priam girded on his sword Morglay, the name of a sword in the Gothic romances ; that Dido would have havo been glad to have been brought to bed even of a cockney, a Dandi- prate Hopthumb ; and that Jupiter, in kissing his daughter, busaed his * Southey. C82 LITERARY. pretty prating parrot." Of his verse, the following specimen may suffice: — ' ' "Witli tentive listening each wight was settled in hearkening, Their father Aneas chronicled from loftie bed hautie; You bid me, princess, to sacrifi<'e a festered old sore, How that the Trojans were prest by the Grecian armie. " The reader will have noticed that the verse is a wretched imitation of the Latin hexameter. This was the fashion of his day, it was intro- duced by Gabriel Harvey, and adopted by Sidney, Spenser, and all the poets of the day, but soon rejected. Harvey enumerates Stanihurst, with Spenser, Sidney, and other celebrated writers, as commendably employed, and enriching their native tongue, and sounds his own glory as the inventor of the English hexameter. Stanihurst's works are the following: — Harmonica, seu Catena Dialectica in Porphyrium; De rebus in Hibernia Gestis; Descriptio Hibernise, inserted in Holinshed's Chronicle; De Yata3 et Patricii Hibernia Apostoli ; Hebdomada Mariana ; Hebdomada Eucharistica ; Brevis prtemonitis pro futura concertatione cum Jacobo Userio; The principles of the Roman Catholic Religion ; The four first books of Virgil's ^neid, in English hexameter, published with versions of the four first Psalms in Iambic metre. SIR JAMES WARE. CORN A.D. 1594. DIED A D. 1666. Among those to whom Ireland is indebted for the collection and pre- servation of the most authentic materials for her history, no name can be placed above that of Ware. And we have to express regret that we are not more fully informed in the history of his life. He was born 26th November, 1594, in Castle Street, in the city of Dublin. His father was auditor-general, with reversion to his son. At the age of sixteen he entered as a fellow-commoner in the univer- sity of Dublin: and took bachelor's and master's degrees at the usual times. Th-e distinction which he maintained among his fellow-students, and, above all, the taste he early began to show for the study of anti- quities, attracted the notice, and gained the friendship, of Usher, who was at the time professor of divinity in the university. Ware had early commenced his collections, and Usher's collection and library were open to him; as also that of Daniel Molyneux, Ulster king- at-arms. In 1626, he went to London, and was introduced, by Usher, to Sir Robert Cotton, who opened to him his valuable and extensive col- lections and library. He also made laborious researches in the Tower and other state-paper offices and repositories, from all of which he obtained large treasures of original and important records — from which he made copious extracts and copies. On his return home, he commenced those valuable labours, by which he is now best known; and published the first parts of the History of the Irish Bishops. SIR JAMES WARE. 683 His second visit to London was in 1628, when his acquaintance with Seldon, and other eminent antiquarians, enabled him to enlarge his collections very considerably. In 1629, on his return to Ireland, he was Jinig-hted by the lords justices. In 1632, his father died, and he succeeded him as auditor-general. From the lord lieutenant, Went- worth, he obtained a seat in the privy council. Though attentive to his public duties, Sir James Ware was not remiss in the pursuit of his favourite studies. He soon after published "• Spenser's View of the State of Ireland." He was at this time engaged in collecting accounts of the " Writers of Ireland." His well-known work under that title, came out in 1639. In the troubled period which commenced in 16-11, his conduct was, in the highest degree, praiseworthy. The following is the valuable testimony of the marquess of Ormonde. " Even when his majesty's affairs were most neglected, and when it was not safe for any man to show himself for them, he then appeared most zealously and stoutly for them." In 1 644, he was sent over to Oxford, as the fittest person to give the king an account of the state of Ireland, and to receive his com- mands on the negotiation then iu progress. He availed himself of the occasion for his favourite pursuit. He was honoured by the uni- versity with a degree of doctor of laws. When returning, with des- jiatches from the king, the packet in Avhlch he sailed was taken by a parliament ship. He was sent prisoner to London, and there com- mitted to the Tower, where he remained for ten months — after which he was exchanged. He continued, in Dublin, to take a prominent part in the king's affairs, and was high in the confidence of the mar- quess of Ormonde. At the surrender of Dublin to the parliamentary commanders, in 1647, he was demanded as one of the hostages, and, as such, taken to London. On his return to Dublin his office was, of course, at an end, and he lived as a private person, until governor Jones banished him, by an order, to any place beyond seas except England. Sir James went over to France, where he resided succes- sively at Caen and in Paris, still occupied with his antiquarian studies. In 1 65 1 , his private affairs required his presence in England, whither he came, by parliamentary license; and, after a couple of years, went over to Ireland, to visit his estate. During the whole of this interval, he was busy in the publication of his works, which were printed in England. The " Antiquities" came out in 1654; and four years after he published a second and improved edition. On the Restoration, he was, at once, reinstated in his office of auditor-general, by Charles, to whom he had given a large sum of money in his necessity. At the election of parliament, he was chosen member for the university. He was, soon after, appointed one of the four commissioners for appeal in excise cases ; and a commissioner for the settlement under the king's declaration. He refused the king's offer of a title ; but, according to Harris, obtained baronetcies for two of his friends. His "Annals" were published nest; and in 1665, the " History of the Irish Bishops' came out entire. Eut death cut short his projects 684 LITERAEY. of literature. He died on the 3d December, 1 666, and was buried in his family vault in St Werburgh's church. Several miscellaneous statements are given by Harris and others, of his uprightness, benevolence, and justice. He always refused his offi- cial fees from widows, the clergy, and their sons. He lived in a sea- son of great distress, and exerted himself to the utmost for its relief. His house and table were a known refuge for the victims of reverse and spoliation ; and when he was given possession of some houses and tenements, forfeited for rebellion, he instantly sent for the widow and children of the forfeitee, and made a legal conveyance of the premises iu their favour. His works are known. They have a distinguished place in every library which has its shelf for the History of Ireland. They are valu- able for their brief accuracy and comprehensive extent — supplying the place of a guide and faithful sign-post to the student in a vast chaos of undigested literature. There are few of any real importance on the subject, of which the main outline will not be found among Ware's writings, with a happy freedom from theories, for which he had too little genius, yet too much common sense. EXD OF VOL. I. ^ Date Due 1 1 i ^ O' BOSTON COLLEGE 3 9031 01213869 9 BOSTON COLLEGE LIBRARY UNIVERSITY HEIGHTS CHESTNUT HILL, MASS. Books may be kept for two weeks and may be renewed for the same period, unless reserved. Two cents a day is charged for each book kept overtime. If you cannot find what you want, ask the Librarian who will be glad to help you. The borrower is responsible for books drawn on his card and for all fines accruing on the same.