'■1 STORY OF IRELAND. By A. M. SULLIVAN. New Edition. DUBLIN : M. H. GILL & SON. London : Burns & Gates, Ld. ; Simpkin, Marshall & Co. 1894, 132331 -i)'NEIliUBRARY BOSTON COLLEGE TO MY YOUNG FELLOW-COUNTRYMEN AT HOME AND IN EXILE, I>f THE COTTAGE AND THE MANSION, AMIDST THE GREEN FIELDS AND IN THE CROWDED CITIES, SOON TO BK THE MEN OF IRELAND, THIS LITTLE BOOK, WHICH CONTAINS THE STORY OF OUR COUNTRY, AND SUBSCRIBE MYSELF THEIR FRIEND, THE ATJTHOR. AUTHOR'S PREFACE, HIS little book is written for young people. It does not pretend to tlie serious character of a History of Ireland. It does not claim to be more than a compilation from the many admi- rable wo^ks which have been published by painstaking and faithful historians. It is an effort to interest the young in the subject of Irish history, and attract them to its study. I say so much in deprecation of the stern judgment of learned critics. I say it furthermore and chiefly by way of owning my obligations to those authors the fruits ot whose researches have been availed of so freely by me. To two of these in particular, Mr. M^Gee and Mr. Haverty, I am deeply indebted. In several instances, even where I have not expressly referred to my authority, I have fol- lowed almost literally the text supplied by them. If I succeed in my design of interesting my young fellow- countrymen in the subject of Irish history, I recommend them strongly to follow it up by reading the works of the two historians whom I have mentioned. They possess this immeasurable advantage over every other previously pub- lished history of Ireland, that in them the authors were able to avail themselves of the rich stores of material brought to light by the lamented 0' Curry and O'Donovan, by Todd, Greaves, Wilde, Meehan, Gilbert, and others. These revelations of authentic history, inaccessible or un- known to previous history-writers, not only throw a flood 6 jt'flE STORY OF IRELAKi). of light upon many periods of our history heretofore darkened and obscured, but may be said to have given to many of the most important events in our annals an aspect totally new, and in some instances the reverse of that Commonly assigned to them. Mr. Haverty's book is Irish history clearly and faithfully traced, and carefully cor- rected by recent invaluable archaeological discoveries ; Mr. M^Gee's is the only vs^ork of the kind accessible to our people which is yet more than a painstaking and reliable record of events. It rises above mere chronicling, and presents to the reader the philosophy of history, assisting him to view great movements and changes in their com- prehensive totality, and to understand the principles which underlay, promoted, guided, or controlled them. In all these, however, the learned and gifted authors have aimed high. They have written for adult readers. Mine is an humble, but I trust it iiiay prove to be a no less useful aim. I desire to get hold of the young people, and not to offer them a learned and serious history", which might perhaps be associated in their mmas with school tasks and painful efforts to remember when this king reigned or whom that one slew ; but to have a plea- sant talk with them about Ireland; to tell them its story, after the manner of simple storytellers; not confusing their minds with a mournful series of feuds, raids, and slaughters, merely for the sake of noting them ; or with essays upon the state of agriculture or commerce, religion or science, at particular periods —all of which they will find instructive when they grow to an age to comprehend and be interested in more advanced works. I desire to do for our young people that which has been well done for the youth of England by numerous writers, I desire to interest them in their country; to convince them that its TUiS STORY OF IRELAND. history is no wild, dreary, and uninviting monotony of internecine slaughter, but an entertaining and instructive narrative of stirring events, abounding with episodes, thrilling, glorious, and beautiful. I do not take upon myself the credit of being the first to remember that " the Child is father of the Man." The Rev. John O'Hanlon's admirable " Catechism of Irish History" has already well appreciated that fact. I hope there will follow many besides myself to cater for the amusement and instruction of the young people. They deserve more attention than has hitherto been paid them by our Irish book-writers. In childhood or boyhood to- day, there rapidly approaches for them a to-morrow, bringing manhood, with its cares, duties, responsibilities. When we who have preceded them shall have passed away for ever, they will be the men on whom Ireland must depend. They will make her future. They will guide her destinies. They will guard her honour. They will defend her life. To the service of this " Irish Nation of the Future" I devote the following pages, confident that my young friends wi^l not fail to read aright the lesson which is taught by The Story of Ireland." Dublin, 15th August, 1867. INTRODUCTORY. HOW WE LEARN THE FACTS OF EARLY HISTORY, ^ T may occur to my young friends, that, before I begin my narration, I ougbt to explain bow far . ^^^-^ or by wbat means any one now living can cor- rectly ascertain and narrate the facts of very re- mote history. The reply is, that what we know of history anterior to the keeping of written re- cords, is derived from the traditions handed down " by tvord of mouth" from generation to gene- ration. We may safely assume that the conmiemoration of important events by this means, was, at first, unguarded or unregulated by any public authority, and accordingly led to much confusion, exaggeration, and corruption ; but we have positive and certain information that at length steps were taken to regulate these oral communications, and guard them as far as possible from corruption. The method most generally adopted for perpetuating them was to compose them into historical chants or verse-histories, which were easily committed to memory, and were recited on all public or festive occasions. When written records began to be used, the events thus commemorated were set down in the regular chronicles. Several of these latter, in one shape or another, are still in existence. From these we chiefly derive our knowledge, such as it is, of the ancient history of Erinn. It is, however, necessary to remember that all history of very early or remote times, unless what is derived from the narratives of Holy Writ, is clouded, to a greater or lesser degree, with doubt and obscurity, and is, to a greater or lesser degree, a hazy mixture of probable fact and manifest fable. When writing was unknown, and 16 THE STORY OF IRELAND. before measures were taken to keep the oral traditions witli exactitude and for a public purpose, and while yet events were loosely handed down by unregulated " hear- say" which no one was charged to guard from exaggera- tion and corruption, some of the facts thus commemorated became gradually distorted, until, after great lapse of time, whatever was described as marvellously wonderful in the past, was set down as at least partly supernatural^ and the long dead heroes whose prowess had become fabulously exaggerated, came to be regarded as demi-gods. It is ^hus as regards the early history of ancient Rome and Greece. It is thx& with the early history of Ireland, and indeed of all other European countries. It would, however, be a great blunder for any one to conclude that because some of those old mists of early tradition contain such gross absurdities, they contain no truths at all. Investigation is every day more and more clearly establishing the fact that, shrouded in some of the most absurd of those fables of antiquity, there are indis- putable and valuable truths of history. THE STOBY OF IRELAND. I. now THE MILESIANS SOUGHT AND FOUND " THE PROMISED isle" AND CONQUERED IT. HE earliest settle- ment or colonization of Ireland of which there is tolerably precise and satisfac- tory information, was that by the sons of Miledh or Milesius, from whom the Irish are occasionally styled Milesians. There are abundant evidences that at least two or three " waves" of colonization had long previously reached the island; but it is not very clear whence they came. Those first settlers are severally known in history as the Partholanians, the Nemedians, 12 THE STORY OF IRELAND. the Firbolgs, and the Tuatha de Danaans. These latter, the Tuatha de Danaans, who immediately preceded the Milesians, possessed a civilization and a knowledge of " arts and sciences" which, limited as we may be sure it was, greatly amazed the earlier settlers (whom they had subjected) by the results it produced. To the Firbolgs (the more early settlers) the wonderful things done by the conquering new-comers, and the wonderful knowledge they displayed, could only be the results of supernatural power. Accordingly they set down the Tuatha de Danaans as "magicians", an idea which the Milesians, as we shall presently see, also adopted. The Firbolgs seem to have been a pastoral race ; the Tuatha de Danaans were more of a manufacturing and commercial people. The soldier Milesian came, and he ruled over all. The Milesian colony reached Ireland from Spain,* but they were not Spaniards. They were an eastern people who had tarried in that country on their way westward, seeking, they said, an island promised to the posterity of their ancestor, Gadelius. Moved by this mysterious pur- pose to fulfil their destiny, they had passed frpm land to land, from the shores of Asia across the wide expanse of southern Europe, bearing aloft through all their wander- ings the Sacred Banner, which symbolized to them at once their origin and their mission, the blessing and the pro- mise given to their race. This celebrated standard, the Sacred Banner of the Milesians", was a flag on which was represented a dead serpent and the rod of Moses ; a device to commemorate for ever amongst the posterity of Gadelius the miracle by which his life had been saved, i^he story of this event, treasured with singular pertinacity by the Milesians, is told as follows in their traditions, which so far I have been following: — While Gadelius, being yet a child, was sleeping one ♦ The settled Irish account ; but this is also disputed by theo- ^sts who contend that all the waves of colonization reached Ire- fe.nd from the continent across Britain. THE STOEY OF IRELAND. 13 day, he was bitten by a poisonous serpent;. His father — Niul, a younger son of the king of Scythia — carried the child to the camp of the Israelites, then close by, where the distracted parent with tears and prayers implored the aid of Moses. The inspired leader was profoundly touched by the anguish of N iul. He laid the child down, and prayed over him; then he touched with his rod the wound, and the boy arose healed. Then, say the Milesians, the man of God promised or prophesied for the posterity of the young prince, that thej should inhabit a country in which no venomous reptile could live, an island which they should seek and fiod in the track of the setting sun. It was not, however, until the third generation subse- quently that the descendants and people of Gadelius are found setting forth on their prophesied wanderings ; and of this migration itself — of the adventures and fortunes of the Gadelian colony in its journeyings — the history would make a volume. At length we find them tarrying in Spain, where they built a city, Brigantia, and occupied and ruled a certain extent of territory. It is said that Ith (pronounced " Eeh") uncle of Milesius, an adventu- rous explorator, had, in his cruising northward of the Brigantian coast, sighted the Promised Isle, and landing to explore it, was attacked by the inhabitants (Tuatha da Danaans), and 'mortally wounded ere he could regain his ship. He died at sea on the way homeward. His body was reverentially preserved and brought back to Spain by his son, Lui (spelled Lugaid),* who had accompanied him, and who now summoned the entire Milesian host to the ♦ Here let me at the outset state, once for all, that I have de- cided, after mature consideration, to spell most of the Irish names occurring in our annals according to their correct pronunciation or sound, and not according to their strictly correct ortho- graphy in the Irish language and typography. I am aware of all that may fairly be said against this course ; yet consider the weight of advantage to be on its side. Some of our Irish names are irretrievably Anglicized m the worst form — uncouth and ab- surd. Choosing therefore between difficulties and objections, I have decided to rescue the correct pronunciation in this manner ; giving, besides, with sufficient frequency, the correct orthography. 14 THE STORY OF IRELAND. last stage of their destined wanderings — to avenge the death of Ith, and occupy the promised isle. The old patriarch himself, Miledh, had died before Lui arrived ; but his sons all responded quickly to the summons ; and the widowed queen, their mother, Scota, placed herself at the head of the expedition, which soon sailed in thirty galleys for " the isle they had seen in dreams". The names of the sons of Milesius who thus sailed for Ireland were, Heber the Fair, Amergin, Heber the Brown, Colpa, Ir, and Heremon ; and the date of this event is generally supposed to have been about fourteen hundred years before the birth of our Lord. At that time Ireland, known as Innis Ealga (the Noble Isle), was ruled over by three brothers, Tuatha de Danaan princes, after whose wives (who were three sisters) the island was alternately called, Eire, Banba (or Banva), and Fiola (spelled Fodhla), by which names Ireland is still frequently styled in national poems. Whatever difficul- ties or obstacles beset the Milesians in landing they at once attributed to the " necromancy" of the Tuatha de Danaans, and the old traditions narrate amusing stories of the contest between the resources of magic and the power of valour. When the Milesians could not discover land where they thought to sight it, they simply agreed that the Tuatha de Danaans had by their black arts ren- dered it invisible. At length they descried the island, its tall blue hills touched by the last beams of the setting sun, and from the galleys there arose a shout of joy ; Innisfail, the Isle of Destiny, was found!* But lo, next morning the land was submerged, until only a low ridge appeared above the ocean. A device of the magicians, * In Moore's Melodies the event here delated is made the subject cf tb^ following? verses .' — - lliS;' csme from a land beyond the sea, And n^;r '^'";r the western main Set sail, in the^^ S'vod ships, gallantly. From the sunny la^'' Spain. *' Oh, where 's the Isle we »c «een in i^-eams, Our destin'd home or grave? Thus sung they as, by the morning's beams, They swept the Atlantic wave. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 15 say the Mlesians. Nevertheless they reached the shore and made good their landing. The " magician" inhabi- tants, however, stated that this was not a fair conquest by the rules of war ; that they had no standing army to oppose the JMilesians ; but if the new-comers would again take to their galleys, they should, if able once more to ejfect a landing, be recognized as masters of the isle by the laws of war. The Milesians did not quite like the proposition. They feared much the " necromancy" of the Tuatha de Danaans. It had cost them trouble enough already to get their feet upon the soil, and they did not greatly relish the idea of having to begin it all over again. They debated the point, and it was resolved to submit the case to the deci- sion of Amergin, who was the Ollave (the Learned Man, Lawgiver, or Seer) of the expedition. Amergin, strange to say, decided on the merits against his own brothers anu kinsmen, and in favour of the Tuatha de Danaans. Accordingly, with scrupulous obedience of his decision, the ^Milesians relinquished all they had so far won. They reembarked in their galleys, and, as demanded, withdrew nine waves off from the shore". Immediately a hurri- cane, raised, say their versions, by the spells of the magi- cians on shore, burst over the fleet, dispersing it in all directions. Several of the princes and chiefs and their wives and retainers were drowned. The JMilesians paid dearly for their chivalrous acquiescence in the rather sin- " And, lo, where afar o'er ocean shines A sparkle of radiant green, As though in that deep lay emerald mines. Whose I'mht through the wave was seen. " 'Tis Innisfail — 'tis Innisfail ! Rings o'er the echoing sea ; Wliile, bending to heav'n, the warriors hfcil 1 hat home of the brave and free. *• Then tarn'd they unto the Eastern ware, Where now their Day-God s eye A look of snch snnny omen gave As lighted up sea and sky. Ncr fn \vn was seen through sky or -ea. Nor tear o'er leaf or sod, Wben first on their Isle of Destiny Onv great forefathers trod". THE STORY OF IRELAND. giilar proposition of the inhabitants endorsed by the deci- sion of Amergin. When they did land next time, it was not in one combined force, but in detachments widely separated ; some at the mouth of the Boyne ; others on the Kerry coast. A short but fiercely contested campaign decided the fate of the kingdom. In the first great pitched battle, which was fought in a glen a few miles south of Tralee,* the Milesians were victorious. But they lost the aged Queen-Mother, Scota, who fell amidst the slain, and was buried beneath a royal cairn in Glen Scohene, close bj. Indeed, the Queens of ancient Ireland figure very prominently in our history, as we shall learn as we pro- ceed. In the final engagement, which was fought at Tail- tan in Meath, between the sons of Milesius and the three Tuatha de Danaan kings, the latter were utterly and finally defeated, and were themselves slain. And with their husbands, the three brothers, there fell upon that dreadful day, when crown and country, home and hus- band, all were lost to them, the three sisters, Queens Eire, Banva, and Fiola 1 * All that I have been here relating is a condensation of tradi- tions, very old, and until recently little valued or credited by his- torical theorists. Yet singular corroborations have been turning up daily, establishing the truth of the main facts thus handed down. Accidental excavations a few years since in the glen which tradition has handed down as the scene of this battle more than three thousand years ago, brought to light full corroboration of this fact, at least, that a battle of great slaughter was fought upon the exact spot some thous<»jids of years ago. ^uEm 5cota imfiir^s t\)t Sacrclf ISanntr. 2 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 19 II. — HOW IRELAND FARED UNDER THE MILESIAN DYNASTY. T is unnecessary to follow through their details the proceedings of the Milesian princes in the period immediately subsequent to the landing. It will suffice to state that in a comparatively brief time they subdued the country, entering, however, into regular pacts, treaties, or alliances with the conquered but not powerless Firbolgs and Tuatha de Danaans. According to the con- stitution under which Ireland was governed for more than a thousand years, the population of the island were distin- guished in two classes — the Free Clans, and the Unfree Clans ; the former being the descendants of the Milesian legions, the latter the descendants of the subjected Tuatha de Danaans and Firbolgs. The latter were allowed certain rights and privileges, and to a great extent regulated their own internal affairs ; but they could not vote in the selec- tion of a sovereign, nor exercise any other of the attributes of full citizenship without special leave. Indeed, those sub- ject populations occasioned the conquerors serious trouble by their hostility from time to time for centuries afterwards. The sovereignty of the island was jointly vested in, or assumed by, Heremon and Heber, the Romulus and Remus of ancient Ireland. Like these twin brothers, who, seven hundred years later on, founded Rome, Heber and Here- mon quarrelled in the sovereignty. In a pitched battle fought between them Heber was slain, and Heremon remained sole ruler of the island. For more than a thou- sand years the dynasty thus established reigned in Ireland, the sceptre never passing out of the family of Milesius in the direct line of descent, unless upon one occasion (to which I shall more fully advert at the proper time) for the briet period of less than twenty years. The Milesian sovereigns appear to have exhibited considerable energy in organizing the country and establishing what we may call " institutions", some of which have been adopted or copied, with improvements and adaptations, by the most civilized governments of the present day ; and the island 20 THE STORY OP IRELAND. advanced in renown for valonr, for wealth, for manufac- tures, and for commerce. By this, however, my young readers are not to suppose that anything like the civilization of our times, or even faintly approaching that to which ancient Greece and Rome afterwards attained, prevailed at this period in Ire- land. Not so. But, compared with the civilization of its own period in Northern and Western Europe, and recol- lecting how isolated and how far removed Ireland was from the great centre and source of colonization and civi- lization in the East, the civilization of pagan Ireland must be admitted to have been proudly eminent. In the works remaining to us of the earliest writers of ancient Rome, we find references to Ireland that attest the high position it then held in the estimation of the most civilized and learned nations of antiquity From our own histo- rians we know that more than fifteen hundred years before the birth of our Lord, gold mining and smelting, and artistic working in the precious metals, were carried on to a great extent in Ireland. Numerous facts might be adduced to prove that a high order of political, social, industrial, and intellectual intelligence prevailed in the country. Even in an age which was rudely barbaric elsewhere all over the world, the superiority of intellect over force, of the scholar over the soldier, was not only recognized but decreed by legislation in Ireland! We find in the Irish chro- nicles that in the reign of Eochy the First (more than a thousand years before Christ) society was classified into seven grades, each marked by the number of colours in its dress, and that in this classification men of learning, i.e. eminent scholars, or savants as they would now be called, were by law ranked next to royalty. But the most signal proof of all, attesting the existence in Ireland at that period of a civilization marvellous for its time, was the celebrated institution of the Feis Tara, or Triennial Parliament of Tara, one of the first formal parlia- ments or legislative assemblies of which we have record.* * The Amphictyonic Council did not by any means partake to 3 like extent of the nature and character of a parliament. tHE STORY OJ* IRELANb. 21 This great national legislative assembly was instituted bj an Irish monarch, whose name survives as a synonym of wisdom and justice, Ollav Fiola (oLbAtVi ^to'o'La), w^ho reigned as Ard Ei of Erinn about one thousand years before the birth of Christ. To this assembly were regu- lary summoned: — Firstly — All the subordinate royal princes or chieftains; Secondly — Ollaves and bards, judges, scholars, and his- torians; and Thirdly — Military commanders. We have in the old records the most precise accounts of the formalities observed at the opening and during the sitting of the assembly, from which we learn that its pro- ceedings were regulated with admirable order and con- ducted with the greatest solemnity. Nor was the institution of " triennial parliaments" the only instance in which this illustrious Irish monarch, two thousand eight hundred years ago, anticipated to a certain extent the forms of constitutional government of which the nineteenth century is so proud. In the civil adminis- tration of the kingdom the same enlightened wisdom was displayed. He organized the country into regular prefec- tures. " Over every cantred", says the historian, " he appointed a chieftain, and over every townland a kind of prefect or secondary chief, all being the officials of the king of Ireland". After a reign of more than forty years, this "true Irish king" died at an advanced age, having lived to witness long the prosperity, happiness, and peace which his noble efforts had diffused all over the realm. His real name was Eochy the Fourth, but he is more fami- liarly known in history by the title or soubriquet of " Ollav Fiola", that is, the " Ollav", or lawgiver, preemi- nently of Ireland, or " Fiola". Though the comparative civilization of Ireland at this remote time w^as so high, the annals of the period disclose the usual recurrence of wars for the throne between rival members of the same dynasty, w^hich early and mediaeval European history in general exhibits. Reading over the history of ancient Ireland, as of ancient Greece, Rome, Assyria, Gaul, Britain, or Spain, one is struck by the 22 THE STORY OF IRELAND. number of sovereigns who fell by violent deaths, and the fewness of those who ended their reigns otherwise. But those were the days when between kings and princes, chiefs and warriors, the sword was the ready arbiter that decided all causes, executed all judgments, avenged all wrongs, and accomplished all ambitions. Moreover, it is essential to bear in mind that the kings of those times commanded and led their own armies, not merely in theory or by legal fiction", but in reality and fact ; and that personal participation in the battle and prowess in the field was expected and was requisite on the part of the royal commander. Under such circumstances one can easily perceive how it came to pass, naturally and inevitably, that the battle-field became ordinarily the deathbed of the king. In those early times the kings who did not fall by the sword, in fair battle or unfair assault, were the excep- tions everywhere. Yet it is a remarkable fact, that we find the average duration of the reigns of Irish monarchs, for fifteen hundred or two thousand years after the Mile- sian dynasty ascended the throne, was as long as that of most European reigns in the seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth centuries. Several of the Milesian sovereigns enjoyed reigns extending to over thirty years ; some to fifty years. Many of them were highly accomplished and learned men, liberal patrons of arts, science, and com- merce ; and as one of them, fourteen hundred years before the Christian era, instituted regularly convened parlia- ments, so we find others of them instituting orders of knighthood and Companionships of Chivalry long before we hear of their establishment elsewhere. The Irish kings of this period, as well as during the first ten centuries of the Christian age, in frequent in- stances intermarried with the royal families of other countries — Spain, Gaul, Britain, and Alba; and the com- merce and manufactures of Ireland were, as the early Latin waiters acquaint us, famed in all the marts and ports of Europa. THE STORY OF IRELAND 2S III. HOW THE UNFREE CLANS TRIED A REVOLUTION; AND WHAT CAME OF IT. HOW THE ROMANS THOUGHT IT TAIN TO ATTEMPT A CONQUEST OF IRELAND. URING those fifteen hundred years preceding the Christian era, the other great nations of Europe, the Romans and the Greeks, were passing, by violc. 25 young princes were recalled from exile, and one of them, Faradah the Eighteous, was, amidst great rejoicing, elec- ted king of Ireland. Moran was appointed chief judge oi Erinn, and under his administration of justice the land long presented a scene of peace, happiness, and content- ment. To the gold chain of office which Moran wore on the jmdgment seat, the Irish for centuries subsequently- attached supernatural powers. It was said that it would tighten around the neck of the judge if he was unjustly judging a cause ! The dawn of Christianity found the Eomans masters of nearly the whole of the known world. Britain, after a short struggle, succumbed, and eventually learned to love the yoke. Gaul, after a gallant effort, was also over- powered and held as a conquered province. But upon Irish soil the Roman eagles were never planted. Of Ire- land, or lerne, as they called it, of its great wealth and amazing beauty of scenery and richness of soil, the all- conquering Romans heard much. But they had heard also that the fruitful and beautiful island was peopled by a soldier race, and, judging them by the few who occasion- ally crossed to Alba to help their British neighbours, and whose prowess and skill the imperial legions had betimes to prove, the conquest of lerne was wisely judged by the Eomans to be a work better not attempted. The early centuries of the Christian era may be consi- dered the period preeminently of pagan bardic or legen- dary fame in Ireland. In this, which we may call the Ossianic" period, lived Cuhal or Cumhal, father of the celebrated Fin Mac Cumhal, and commander of the great Irish legion called the Fiana Erion, or Irish militia. The Ossianic poems* recount the most marvellous stories of Fin and the Fiana Erion, which stories are compounds of un- doubted facts and manifest fictions, the prowess of the heroes being in the course of time magnified into the super- natural, and the figures and poetic allegories of the earlier * So-called from their author, Oisin, or Ossian, the warrior poet, eon of Fin, und grandson of Cuhal. 26 TttE StORX' OF IRELaKD. bards gradually coming to be read as realities. Some of these poems are gross, extravagant, and absurd. Others of them are of rare beauty, and are, moreover, valuable for the insight they give, though obliquely, into the manners and customs, thoughts, feelings, guiding principles, and moving passions of the ancient Irish. IV. — LaRDIC tales of ancient erinn. the sorrowful FATE OF THE CHILDREN OF USNA". tHE 8T0RV OF lilELANb. 2? Three Sorrowful Tales of Erinn". Singulary enough, the story contains much less poetic fiction, and keeps much closer to the simple facts of history, than do several of the poems of Ossian's time, written much later on. From the highly dramatic and tragic nature of the events related, one can well conceive that, clad in the beautiful idiom of the Irish tongue and told in the fanciful language of poetry, ^^The Story of the Children of Usnach" was cal- culated to win a prominent place amongst the bardic recitals of the pagan Irish. A semi-fanciful version of it has been given in English at great length by Dr. Ferguson in the Hibernian Nights' Entertainment ; but the story is variously related by other narrators. As it may, perhaps, be interesting to my young readers, I summarize the va- rious versions here, as the only specimen I mean to give of the semi-imaginative literature of the pagan Irish : When Conor Mac Ness a was reigning king of Ulidia, and Eochy the Tenth was Ard Ei of Erinn, it happened one day that Conor had deigned to be present at a feast which was given at the house of Felemi, son of the laureate of Ulster. While the festivities were going on, it came to pass that the wife of the host gave birth to a daughter; and the infant being bi ought into the presence of the king and the other assembled guests, all saw that a beauty more than natural had been given to the child. In the midst of remark and marvel on all hands at the circum- stance, Kavaiee, the chief druid of the Ulidians, cried out with a loud voice and prophesied that through the infant before them there would come dark woe and misfortune to Ulster, such as the land iiad not known for years. When the warriors heard this, ihey all demanded that the child should instantly be put to death. But Conor inter- posed and forbade the deed "1 said the king, ^^will myself take charge of this beautiful child of destiny. I shall have her reared where no evil can befall through her or to her, and in time she may become a wife for me". Then the chief druid, Kavaiee, named the child Deirdri, which means alarm or danger. Conor placed the infant under the charge of a nurse or attendant, and subse- 28 THE STOHV OF IRELAND. quently a female tutor, in a residence situated in a district which no foot of man was allowed to tread ; so that Deirdri had grown to the age of woman before she saw a human form other than those of her female attendants. And the maiden was beautiful beyond aught that the eye of man had ever beheld. Meanwhile, at the court of the Ulidian king was a young noble named Naeisi, son of Usna, whose manly beauty, vigour, activity, and bravery were the theme of every tongue. One day, accompanied only by a faithful deerhound, Naeisi had hunted the deer from the rising of the sun, until, towards evening, he found the chase had led him into a district quite strange to his eye. He paused to think how best he might retrace his way home- ward, when suddenly the terrible idea flashed across his mind, that he was within the forbidden ground which it was death to enter — the watchfully-guarded retreat of the king's mysterious protege, Deirdri. While pondering on his fatal position, he came suddenly upon Deirdri and her nurse, who were strolling in the sunset by a running stream. Deirdri cried out with joy to her attendant, and asked what sort of a being it was who stood beyond ; for she had never seen any such before. The consternation and embarrassment of the aged attendant was extreme, and she in vain sought to baffle Deirdri's queries, and to in - duce her to hasten homeward. Naeisi too, riveted by the beauty of Deirdri, even though he knew the awful con- sequences of his unexpected presence there, stirred not from the scene. He felt that even on the penalty of death he would not lose the enchanting vision. He and Deirdri spoke to each other ; and eventually the nurse, perplexed at first, seems to have become a confidant to the attach- ment which on the spot sprung up between the young people. It was vain for them, however, to hide from themselves the fate awaiting them on the king's discovery of their affec- tion, and accordingly Naeisi and Deirdri arranged that they would fly into Alba, where they might find a home. Now Naeisi was greatly loved by all the nobles of Ulster ; but most of all was he loved by his two brothers, Anli and THE STORY OF IHELAT^D. 29 Ardan, and his affection for them caused him to feel poignantly the idea of leaving them for ever. So he con- fided to them the dread secret of his love for Deirdri, and of the flight he and she had planned. Then Anli and Ardan said that wherever Naeisi would fly, thither also would they go, and with their good swords guard their brother and the wife for whom he was sacrificing home and heritage. So, privately selecting a trusty band of one hundred and fifty warriors, Naeisi, Anli, and Ardan, taking Deirdri with them, succeeded in making their escape out of Ireland and into Alba, where the king of that country, aware of their noble lineage and high valour, assigned them ample maintenance and quarter- age", as the bards express it. There they lived peace- fully and happily for a time, until the fame of Deirdri's unequalled beauty made the Albanian king restless and envious, reflecting that he might, as sovereign, himself claim her as wife, which demand at length he made. Naeisi and his brothers were filled with indignation at this ; but their difficulty was extreme, for whither now could they fly? Ireland was closed against them for ever ; and now they were no longer safe in Alba ! The full distress of their position was soon realized ; for the king of Alba came with force of arms to take Deirdri. After many desperate encounters and adventures, how- ever, any one of which would supply ample materials for a poem-story, the exiled brothers and their retainers made good their retreat into a small island off the Scottish coast. When it was heard in Ulidia that the sons of Usna were in such sore strait, great murmurs went round amongst the nobles of Ulster, for Naeisi and his brothers were greatly beloved of them all. So the nobles of the province eventually spoke up to the king, and said it was hard and a sad thing that these three young noblfes, the foremost warriors of Ulster, should be lost to their native land and should suffer such difficulty "on account of one woman". Conor saw what discontent and disaffection would prevail throughout the province if the popular favourites were not at once pardoned and recalled. He 30 THE STORY OF IRELAND. consented to the entreaties of the nobles, and a royal courier was dispatched with the glad tidings to the sons of Usna. When the news came, joy beamed on every face but on that of Deirdri. She felt an unaccountable sense of fear and sorrow, "as if of coming ill". Yet, with all Naeisi's unbounded love for her, she feared to put it to the strain of calling on him to choose between exile with her or a re- turn to Ireland without her. For it was clear that both he and Anli and Ardan longed in their hearts for one glimpse of the hills of Erinn. However, she could not conceal the terrible dread that oppressed her, and Naeisi, though his soul yearned for home, was so moved by Deirdri's forebodings, that he replied to the royal mes- senger by expressing doubts of the safety promised to him if he returned. When this answer reached Ulster, it only inflamed the discontent against the king, and the nobles agreed that it was but right that the most solemn guarantees and ample sureties should be given to the sons of Usna on the part of the king. To this also Conor assented ; and he gave Fergus Mac Koi, Dutha del Ulad, and Cormac Colingas as guarantees or hostages that he would himself act to- wards the sons of Usna in good faith. The royal messenger set out once more, accompanied by Fiachy, a young noble of Ulster, son of Fergus Mac Eoi, one of the three hostages ; and now there remained no excuse for Naeisi delaying to return. Deirdri still felt oppressed by the mysterious sense of dread and hidden danger ; but (so she reflected) as Naeisi and his devoted brothers had hitherto uncomplainingly sacrificed every- thing for her, she would now sacrifice her feelings for their sakes*. She assented, therefore (though with secret sorrow and foreboding), to their homeward voyage. Soon the galleys laden with the returning exiles reached the Irish shore. On landing, they found a Dalaraidian legion waiting to escort them to Emania, the palace of the king ; and of this legion the young Fiachy was the com- mander. Before completing the first day's march some misgivings seem occasionally to have flitted across the IHE STORY OF IRELAND. 61 minds of the brothers, but they were allayed by the frank and fearless, brave and honourable Fiachy, who told thenj to have no fear, and to be of good heart. But every spear's length they drew near to Emania, Deirdri's feelings became more and more insupportable, and so overpowered was she with the forebodings of evil, that again the caval- cade halted, and again the brothers would have turned back but for the persuasions of their escort. Next day, towards evening, they sighted Emania. " Naeisi", cried Deirdri, "view the cloud that I here see in the sky! I see over Eman Green a chilling cloud of blood-tinged red". But Naeisi tried to cheer her with assurances of safety and pictures of the happy days that were yet before them. Next day came Durthacnt, chieftain of Fermae (now Farney), saying that he came from the king, by whose orders the charge of the escort should now be given to him. But Fiachy, who perhaps at this stage began to have mis- givings as to what was in meditation, answered, that to no one would he surrender the honourable trust confided to him on the stake of his father's life and honour, which with his own life and honour he would defend. And here, mterrupting the summarized text of the story, I may state, that it is a matter of doubt whether the king was really a party to the treachery which en- sued, or whether Durthacht and others themselves moved in the bloody business without his orders, using his name and calculating that what they proposed to do would secretly please him, would be readily forgiven or approved, and would recommend them to Conor's favour. Conor's character as it stands on the page of authentic history, would forbid the idea of such murderous perfidy on his part ; but all the versions of the tale allege the king's guilt to be deep and plain. Fiachy escorted his charge to a palace which had been assigned for them in the neighbourhood ; and, much to the disconcerting of Durthacht of Fermae, quartered his legion of Dalaraidians as guards upon the building. That night neither the chivalrous Fiachy nor the Children of Usna disguised the now irresistible and mournful convic- tion, that foul play was to be apprehended ; but Naeisi 32 THE STORY OF IRELAND. his brothers had seen enough of their brave young custo- dian to convince them that, even though his own father should come at the palace gate to bid him connive at the surrender of his charge, Fiachy would defend them while life remained. Next morning the effort was renewed to induce Fiachy to hand over the charge of the returned exiles. He was immovable. " What interest is it of yours to obstruct the king's orders ?" said Durthacht of Fernmae ; " can you not turn over your responsibility to us, and in peace and safety go your way?" "It is of the last interest to me'', replied Fiachy, "to see that the Sons of Usna have not trusted in vain on the word of the king, on the hostage of my father, or on the honour of my father's son". Then all chance of prevailing on Fiachy being over, Durthacht gave the signal for assault, and the palace was stormed on all sides. Then spoke Naeisi, touched to the heart by the devotion and fidelity of Fiachy: " Why should you perish defend- ing us ? We have seen all. Your honour is safe, noblest of youths. We will not have you sacrificed vainly resisting the fate that for us now is clearly inevitable. We will meet death calmly, we will surrender ourselves, and spare needless slaughter". But Fiachy would not have it so, and all the entreaties of the Sons of Usna could not prevail upon him to assent. ^^I am here", said he, " the repre- sentative of my father's hostage, of the honour of Ulster, and the word of the king. To these and on me you trusted. While you were safe you would have turned back, but for me. Now, they who would harm you must pass over the lifeless corpse of Fiachy" Then they asked that they might ut least go forth on the ramparts and take part in the defence of the palace ; but Fiachy pointed out that by the etiquette of knightly honour in Ulidia, this would be infringing on his sacred charge. He was the pledge for their safety, and he alone should look to it. They must, under no circumstances, run even the slightest peril of a spear-wound, unless he should first fall, when by the laws of honour, his trust would have been acquitted, but not otherwise. So ran the code of chivalry amongst the warriors of Dalariada, THE STORY OP IRELAND. S3 Then Naeisi and Ms brothers and Deirdri withdrew into the palace, and no more, even by a glance, gave sign of any interest or thought whatsoever about their fate; whether it was near or far, brightening or darkening; ''but Naeisi and Deirdri sat down at a chess-board and played at the game". Meanwhile, not all the thunders of the heavens could equal the resounding din of the clanging of shields, the clash of swords and spears, the cries of the wounded, and the shouts of the combatants outside. The assailants were twenty to one ; but the faithful Fiachy and his Dalariadans performed prodigies of valour, and at noon they still held the outer ramparts of all. By the assailants nothing had yet been won. An attendant rushed with word to Naeisi. He raised not his eyes from the board, but continued the game. But now the attacking party, having secured reinforce- ments, returned to the charge with increased desperation. For an hour there was no pause in the frightful fury of the struggle. At length the first rampart was won. A wounded guard rushed in with the dark news to Naeisi, who "moved a piece on the board, but never raised his eyes". The story in this way goes on to describe how, as each fosse surrounding the palace was lost and won, and as the din and carnage of the strife drew nearer and nearer to the doomed guests inside, each report from the scene of slaughter, whether of good or evil report, failed alike to elicit the slightest motion of concern or interest one way or another from the brothers or from Deirdri. In all the relics we possess of the old poems or bardic stories of those pagan times, there is nothing finer than the climax of the tragedy which the semi-imaginative story I have been epi- tomising here proceeds to reack ' The deafening clangour and bloody strife outside, drawing nearer and nearer, the supreme equanimity of the noble victims inside, too proud to evince the slightest emotion, is most powerfully and dramatically antithesised; the story culminating in the Snal act of the tragedy, when the faithful Fiachy and the 3 34 THE STORY OF IRELAND. last of his guards having been slain, *Hhe Sons of Usna" met their fate with a dignity that befitted three such noble champions of Ulster. When Fergus and Duthah heard of the foul murder of the Sons of Usna, in violation of the pledge for which they themselves were sureties, they marched upon Emania, and, in a desperate encounter with Conor's forces, in which the king's son was slain and his palace burned to the ground, they inaugurated a desolating war that lasted in Ulster for many a year, and amply fulfilled the dark prophecy of Kavaiee the Druid in the hour of Deirdri's birth. Deirdri, we are told, never smiled" from the day of the slaughter of her husband on Eman Green. In vain the king lavished kindness and favours upon her. In vain he exhausted every resource in the endeavour to cheer, amuse, or interest her. One day, after more than a year had been passed by Deirdri in this settled but placid des- pair and melancholy, Conor took her in his own chariot to drive into the country. He attempted to jest her sar- castically about her continued grieving for Naeisi, when suddenly she sprang out of the chariot, then flying at the full speed of the steeds, and falling head foremost against a sharp rock on the road side, was killed upon the spot. Well known to most Irish readers, young and old, is Moore's beautiful and passionate Lament for the Children of Usna":_ Avenging and bright fall the swift sword of Erin On him who the brave sons of Usna betrayed! — For every fond eye he hath waken'd a tear in, A drop from his heart- wounds shall weep o'er her blade I By the red cloud that hung over Conor's dark dwelling, When Ulad's three champions lay sleeping in gore — By the billows of war, which so often, high swelling, Have wafted those heroes to victory's shore — We swear to revenge them! — No joy shall be tasted. The harp shall be silent, the maiden unwed, Our halls shall be mute, and our fields shall lie wasted. Till vengeance is wreak'd on the murderer's head] THE STORY OF IRELAND. 35 Yes, monarcli, tho' sweet are our home recollections; Though sweet are the tears that from tenderness fall; Though sweet are our friendships, our hopes, our affections, Revenge on a tyrant is sweetest of all! V. THE DEATH OF KING CONOR MAC NESSA. HAVE alluded to doubts suggested in my mind by tbe facts of authentic history, as to whether King Conor Mac Nessa was likely to have played the foul part attributed to him in this celebrated bardic story, and for which, certainly, the ^'sure- ties" Fergus, Duthach, and Cormac, held him to a terrible account. All that can be said is, that no other incident recorded of him would warrant such an estimate of his character ; and it is certain he was a man of many brave and noble parts. He met his death under truly singular circumstances. The ancient bardic version of the event is almost literally given in the follow- ing poem, by Mr. T. D. Sullivan : — DEATH OF KING CONOR MAC NESSA. 'T was a day full of sorrow for Ulster when Conor Mac Nessa went forth To punish the clansmen of Connaught who dared to take spoil from the North; For his men brought him back from the battle scarce better than one that was dead, With the brain-ball of Mesgedra* buried two-thirds of its depth in his head. * The pagan Irish warriors sometimes took the brains out of champions whom they had slain in single combat, mixed them up with lime, and rolled them into balls, which hardened with time, and which they preserved as trophies. It was with one of these balls, which had been abstracted from his armoury, that Conor Mac Nessa was wounded, as described in the text 36 THE STORY OF IRELAND. His royal physician bent o'er him, great Fingen, who often before Staunched the war-battered bodies of heroes, and built them for battle once more. And he looked on the wound of the monarch, and heark'd to his low-breathed sighs. And he said, * ' In the day when that missile is loosed from his forehead, he dies. n. "Yet long midst the peo} le who love him King Conor Mac Nessa may reign, If always the high pulse of passion be kept from his heart smd hia brain; And for this I lay down his restrictions : — no more from this day shall his place Be with armies, in battles, or hostings, or leading the van of the chase; At night, when the banquet is flashing, his measure of wine must be small, And take heed that the bright eyes of woman be kept from his sight above all; For if heart -thrilling joyance or anger awhile o'er his being have power, The ball will start forth from his forehead, and surely he dies in that hour". ni. Oh! woe for the valiant King Conor, struck down from the sum- mit of life. While glory unclouded shone round him, androgal enjoyment was rife — Shut out from his toils and his duties, condemned to ignoble repose, No longer to friends a true helper, no longer a scourge to his foes! He, the strong-handed smiter of champions, the piercer of armour and shields, The foremost in earth-shaking onsets, the last out of blood-sod- den fields — The mildest, the kindest, the gayest, when revels ran high in his hall— Oh, well might his true-hearted people feel gloomy and sad for his faU! rv. The princes, the chieftains, the nobles, who met to consult at his board, Whispered low when their talk was of combats, and wielding the spear and the sword: THE STORY OF IRELAND. 37 The bards from their harps feared to waken the full-xjealing sweet ^ iiess of song, To give homage to valour or beauty, or praise to the wise and the strong; The flash of no joy-giving story made cheers or gay laughter resound, Amidst silence constrained and unwonted the seldom-filled wine- cup went round; And, sadder to all who remembered the glories and joys that had been. The heart-swaying presence of woman not once shed its light on the scene. T. He knew it, he felt it, and sorrow sunk daily more deep in his heart; He wearied of doleful inaction, from all his loved labours apart. He sat at his door in the sunlight, sore grieving and weeping to see The life and the motion around him, and nothing so stricken as he. Above him the eagle went wheeling, before him the deer galloped by, And the quick-legged rabbits went skipping from green glades and burrows a-nigh, The song-birds sang out from the copses, the bees passed on musical wing, And all things were happy and busy, save Conor Mac Ncssa the king! VI. So years had passed over, when, sitting midst silence like that of the tomb, A terror crept through him as sudden the noonlight was blackened with gloom. One red flare of lightning blazed brightly, illuming the landscape around. One thunder-peal roared through the mountains, and rumbled and crashed underground; He heard the rocks bursting asunder, the trees tearing up by the roots. And loud through the horrid confusion the howling of terrified brutes. From the halls of his tottering palace came screamings of terror and pain. And he saw crowding thickly around him the ghosts of the foes he had slain! VII. And as soon a3 the sudden commotion that shuddered through nature had ceased, The king sent for Barach, his druid, and said: "Tell me truly, priest, 38 THE STORY OF IRELAND. What magical arts have created this scene of wild horror and dread? What has blotted the blue sky above us, and shaken the earth that we tread? Arc the gods that we worship offended? what crime or what wrong has been done ? Has the fault been committed in Erin, and how may their favour be won ? What rites may avail to appease them ? what gifts on their altars should smoke ? Only say, and the offering demanded we lay by your consecrate oak". VIII. **Oking", said the white-bearded druid, "the truth unto me has been shown. There lives but one God, the Eternal; far up in high Heaven is His throne. He looked upon men with compassion, and sent from ffis king- dom of light His Son, in the shape of a mortal, to teach them and guide them aright. Near the time of your birth, King Conor, the Saviour of man- kind was born, And since then in the kingdoms far eastward He taught, toiled, and prayed, till this morn, When wicked men seized Him, fast bound Him with nails to a cross, lanced His side. And that moment of gloom and confusion was earth's cry of dread when He died. EX. " king. He was gracious and gentle. His heart was all pity and love, And for men He was ever beseeching the grace of his Father above; He helped them, He healed them, He blessed them, He laboured that all might attain To the true God's high kingdom of glory, where never comes sor- row or pain; But they rose in their pride and their folly, their hearts filled with merciless rage, That only the sight of His life-blood fast poured from His heart could assuage : Yet while on the cross-beams uplifted, BUs body racked, tortured, and riven, He prayed — not for justice or vengeance, but asked that His foe§ be forgiven", X. With a bound from his seat rose King Conor, the red flush of ra^?e on his face. THE STORY OF IRELAND. S9 Fast he ran through the hall for his weapons, and snatching his sword from its place, He rushed to the woods, striking wildly at boughs that dropped down with each blow, And he cried : " Were I midst the vile rabble, I 'd cleave them to earth even so! With the strokes of a high king of Erinn, the whirls of my keen- tempered sword, I would save from their horrible fury that mild and that merciful Lord". His frame shook and heaved with emotion; the brain-ball leaped forth from his head. And commending his soul to that Saviour, King Conor Mac Nessa fell dead. VI, — THE ^'golden age" O^^ PRE-CHRISTIAN ERINN S early as the reign of Ard-ri Cormac the First ' — the first years of the third century — the Christian faith had penetrated into Ireland. Probably in the commercial intercourse between the Irish and continental ports, some Christian converts had been made amongst the Irish navi- gators or merchants. Some historians think the monarch himself, Cormac, towards the close of his life adored the true God, and attempted to put down druidism. ^^His reign", says Mr. Haverty the historian, "is generally looked upon as the brightest epoch in the entire history of pagan Ireland. He established three col- leges ; one for War, one for History, and the third for Jurisprudence. He collected and remodelled the laws, and published the code which remained in force until the English invasion (a period extending beyond nine hundred years), and outside the English Pale for many centuries after! He assembled the bards and chroniclers at Tara, and directed them to collect the annals of Ireland, and to write out the records of the country from year to year, making them synchronize with the history of other coun- tries, by collating events with the reigns of contemporary foreign potentates ; Cormac himself having been the inven- 40 THE STORY OF IRELAND. tor of this kind of chronology. These annals formed what is called the * Psalter of Tara', which also contained full details of the boundaries of provinces, districts, and small divisions of land throughout Ireland; but unfortunately this great record has been lost, no vestige of it being now, it is believed, in existence. The magnificence of Cormac's palace at Tara was commensurate with the greatness of his power and the brilliancy of his actions ; and he fitted out a fleet which he sent to harass the shores of Alba or Scot- land, until that country also was compelled to acknowledge him as sovereign. He wrote a book or tract called Teagusc- na-Bi^ or the ^ Institutions of a Prince', which is still in existence, and which contains admirable maxims on man- ners, morals, and government". This illustrious sovereign died A.D. 266, at Cleitach, on the Boyne, a salmon bone, it is said, having fastened in his throat while dining, and de- fied all efforts at extrication. He was buried at Eoss-na-ri, the first of the pagan monarchs for many generations who was not interred at Brugh, the famous burial place of the pre-Christian kings. A vivid tradition relating the cir- cumstances of his burial has been very beautifully versified by Dr. Ferguson in his poem, "The Burial of King Cormac": •* Crom Cruach and his sub-gods twelve", Said Cormac, **are but craven treene; The axe that made them, haft or helve, Had worthier of our worship been : But He who made the tree to grow, And hid in earth the iron-stone, And made the man with mind to know The axe's use, is God alone". The druids hear of this fearful speech, and are horrified: Anon to priests of Crom was brought (Where girded in their service dread They ministered on red Moy Slaught) — Word of the words King Cormac said. They loosed their curse against the king, They cursed him in his flesh and bones, And daily iu their mystic ring They turned the maledictive stonea. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 41 At length one day comes the news to them that the king is dead, choked upon the food he ate", and they exul- tantly sound *Hhe praise of their avenging God". Cormac, before he dies, however, leaves as his last behest, a direc- tion that he shall not be interred in the old pagan ceme- tery of the kings at Brugh, but at Ross-na-ri : But ere the voice was wholly spent That priest and prince should still obey, To awed attendants o'er him bent Great Cormac gathered breath to-say : " Spread not the beds of Brugh for me, When restless death-bed's use is done ; But bury me at Ross-na-ree, And face me to the rising sun. For all the kings who lie in Brugh Put trust in gods of wood and stone; And 't was at Ross that first I knew One Unseen, who is God alone. His glory lightens from the east, His message soon shall reach our shore, And idol-god and cursing priest Shall plague us from Moy Slaught no more'*. King Cormac dies, and his people one and all are shocked at the idea of burying him anywhere save in the ancient pagan cemetery where all his great forefathers repose. They agree that he must have been raving when he desired otherwise; and they decide to bury him in Brugh, where his grandsire, Conn of the Hundred Battles, lies armour-clad, upright, hound at foot and spear in hand: Dead Cormac on his bier they laid : ** He reigned a king for forty years; And shame it were", his captains said, *'He lay not with his royal peers : His grandsire, Hundred Battles, sleep* Serene in Brugh, and all around Dead kings, in stone sepulchral keeps. Protect the sacred burial ground. What though a dying man should ravs Of changes o'er the eastern sea. In Brugh of Boyne shall be his grave, And not in noteless Ross-na-ree". 42 THE STORY OP IBELAND. Then north. ward forth they bore tiie bier. And down from Sleith.ac'3 sitJe they diev With horseman and with charioteer. To cross the fords of Boyne to Bmgh, Suddenly " a breath of finer air" touches the rirer " wiih rustling wings". And as the bnrial train came down With dirge, and savage dolorous shows^ Across their pathway broad and brown. The deep fnll-hearted river rose. From bank to bank throRagjh all his tords, ^eatli hhe^keaaixtg aqpaHs lie swelled and boiled. And thrice the "wond'mg gentile lords Easay'd to cross, and thrice recoil'd. Then forth stepped gray-haired warriors four; They said : ' ' Through angriffr floods than these. On linked shield once our Eong we bore From Dread-spear and the hosts of Deece; And long as loyal will holds good. And hmbs respond with helpful thewa^ Nor flood nor fiend within the Hood Shall bar him of his burial dues". So they lift the bier, and step into the boiling surge. And now they slide and now they swim. And now amid the blackening squall. Gray locks afioat with clutchings grim. They plunge around the floating palL While as a youth with practised spear Through justhng crowds bears off the ring — Bojme from their shoulders caught the bier, And proudly bare away the King! The foaming torrent sweeps the coffin away ; next day it IS found far down the river, stranded on the bank under Ross-na-ri ; the last behest of Cormac is fulfilled after all I At morning on the gaesy marge Of Ross-na-ree "die corpse was found. And shepherds at their early charge. Entombed it in the peaceful ground. 9 * * « * « And Life and time rejoicing run; From age to age their wonted w^y; But still he waits the risen Sun, For still 't is only dawning Day. THE STORY OF lEELAKD. 43 In the two centuries sncceeding, there flonrished amongst other Bovereigns of Ireland less known to fame, the cele- brated Mall of the Nine Hostages, and King Dahi.* During these two hundred years the flag of Ireland waxed through continental Europe over rictorious legions and fleets ; the Irish monarchs leading powerful armies across the plains of Gaul, and up to the rery confines of " the Ceasars' domains" in Italy. It was the day of Ireland's military power in Europe; a day which subsequently waned so disastrously, and, later on, set in utter gloom. Neighbouring Britain, whose yoke a thousand years sub- sequently Ireland was to wear, then lay helpless and ab- ject at the mercy of the Irish hosts ; the Britons, as history relates, absolutely weeping and wailing at the departure of the enslaving Roman legions, because now there would be nought to stay the visits of the Scoti, or Irish, and the Picts ! The courts of the Irish princes and homes of the Irish nobility were filled with white slave attendants, brought from abroad, some from Gaul, but the most from Anglia. It was in this way the youthful Patricius, or Patrick, was brought a slave into Ireland from Gaul. As the power of Imperial Eome began to pale, and the outly- ing legions were being every year drawn in nearer and nearer to the great city itself, the Irish sunburst blazed over the scene, and^ the retreating Romans found the co- horts of Erinn pushing dauntlessly and vengefully on their track. Although the Irish chronicles of the period them- selves say little of the deeds of the armies abroad, the con- tinental records of the time give us pretty full insight into the part they played on the European stage in that day.f * This was a soubriquet. His real name was Feredach the Second. t Haverty the historian says : "It is in the verses of the Latin poet Clandian that we read of the sending of troops by Stihctio, the general of Theodosins the Great, to repel the Scottish hosts led by the brave and adTentnrons NialL One of the passages of Clandian thus referred to is that in which the poet says: * Tetam cum Scttut lemem That is, 2.S translated in GSbaon^ Caamdok : 'When SootecaaeltaidaiiigStxamteLMibani The ocevx lif Wi i. atraek w|tk kortOB mnT", 44 THE STORY OF IRELAND. Nidi of the Nine Hostages met his death in Gaul, on the banks of the Loire, while leading his armies in one of those campaigns. The death of King Dahi, who was killed by lightning at the foot of the Alps while marching at the head of his legions, one of our national poets, Davis, has immortalized in a poem, from which I quote here : — Darkly their glibs o'erhang, Sharp is their wolf-dog's fang, Bronze spear and falchion clang — Brave men might shun them! Heavy the spoil they bear — Jewels and gold are there- Hostage and maiden fair — How have they won them ? From the soft sons of Gaul, Roman, and Frank, and thrall, Borough, and hut, and hall, — These have been torn. Over Britannia wide, Over fair Gaul they hied, Often in battle tried.. — Enemies mourn I Up on the glacier's snow, Down on the vales below. Monarch and clansmen go — Bright is the morning. Never their march they slack, Jura is at their back. When falls the evening black, Hideous, and warning. Eagles scream loud on high ; Far off the chamois fly; Hoarse comes the torrent's cry. On the rocks whitening. Strong are the storm's wings; Down the tall pine it flings; Hail-stone and sleet it brings— Thunder and lightning. Little these veterans mind Thundering, hail, or wind; Closer their ranks they bind— Matching the storm. I THE STORY OF IRELAND. While, a spear-cast or more, On, the first ranks before, Dathi the sunburst bore — Haughty his form. Forth from the thunder-cloud Leaps out a foe as proud — Sudden the monarch bowed — On rush the vanguard; Wildly the king they raise — Struck by the lightning's blaze — Ghastly his dying gaze, Clutching his standard! Mild is the morning beam, Gently the rivers stream, Happy the valleys seem; But the lone islanders — Mark how they guard their king! Hark, to the wail they sing! Dark is their counselling — Helvetia's highlanders Gather like ravens, near — Shall Dathi's soldiers fear? Soon their home -path they clear— Rapid and daring; On through the pass and plain, Until the shore they gain. And, with their spoil, again Landed in Eirinn. Little does Eire care For gold or maiden fair — ** Where is King Dathi? — where, Where is my bravest?" On the rich deck he lies. O'er him his sunburst Hies Solemn the obsequies, Eire! thou gavest. See ye that countless train Crossing Ros-Comain's plain. Crying, like hurricane, Uile llu ai? Broad is his cairn^s base — Nigh the "King*s burial plac6'\ Last of the Pagan race, Lieth King Dathi! 46 THE STORY OF IRELAXO. VII. — HOW IRELA>JD F.ECEIVED THE CHKSITIAN FAITH. O these foreign expeditions Ireland was destined ^^cj ^^^ to be indebted for her oim conqnest by tiie spirit x^^SST cf Christianity. As I hare alreadj mentioned, fj} f in one of the military excursions of King NiaU J v&^i :-e First into Ganl, he cap tared and brought ; ' :o Ireland amongst other white slaves, Patricins, p P a Komano-Gallie yonth of good quality, and his ' sisters Darerca and Lupita. The story of St, Pstzick's bondage in Ireland, of his miraculous escape, his entijinto holy orders, his vision of Ireland — in which he thought he heard the cries of a multitude of people, en- treating hiTn to come to them in Erinn — his long studies imder St, Germain, and eyentually his determination to undertake in an especial manner the conversion of the Irish, will all be found in any Irish Church History or Life of St, Patrick,* Having received the sanction and benediction of the holy pontiff Pope Celestine, and having been consecrated bishop, St, Patrick, accompanied by a few chosen praests, reached Ireland in 432. Christianity had been preached in Ireland long before St. Patrick's tmie. In 4ol St, PalLadius, Archdeacon of Kome, was sent by Pope Celestine as a bishop to the Christians in Ireland, These, however, were evidently but few in number, and worshipped only in fear or secrecy. The attempt to preach the faith openly to the people was vio- loitlj suppressed, and St. Palladius sailed from Ireland. Si. Patrick and his missioners landed on the spot where now stands the fashionsble watering place caDed Bray, near Dublin, The hcstility of the Lsgenian prince and * Mv young readers wH find this gloricTia chapter in our peH- giocs anTiala, related with great smpHcity, beauty, and truth, is a Httie pwhlK-atifji called, St. Patrick'sVhow it was restored", by theBer. James Gafoey, of tiie dioeeK of DnUiizi, whose adsd- rable Tvlsme cm. AncMit Irish dmrt^", as w^as the Bev. S. Ma]aBe*s"amidkHkte7 «f Iidaiid", wiH be found in^ab- dblatostadeBtiL THE STORY OF IEELA5T). 47 people compelled him to reembark. He sailed north- wards, touching at Innis-Patrick near Skerries, county Dublin, and eventually landed at !Magh Tunis, in Strang- ford Lough. Druidism would appear to hare been the form of pa- ganism then prevailing in Ireland, though even then some traces remained of a still more ancient idol-worship, pro- bably dating from the time of the Tuatha de Danaans, two thousand years before. St. Patrick, however, found the Irish mind much better prepared, by its comparative civilization and refinement, to receive the truths of Cliris- tianity, than that of any other nation in Europe outside imperial Rome. The Irish were always — then as they are now — preeminently a reverential people, and thus were pe- culiarly susceptible of religious truth. St. Patrick's progress through the island was marked by success from the out- set. Tradition states that, expoxmding the doctrine of the Holy Trinity, he used a little sprig of trefoil, or three- leaved grass, whence the Shamrock comes to be the Na- tional Emblem, as St. Patrick is the National Saint or Patron of Ireland. Ard-Ei Laori* was holding a drudicial festival in Tara, at which the kindling of a great fire formed a chief feature of the proceedings, and it was a crime punishable with death for any one to light a fire in the surrounding country on the evening of that festival, until the sacred flame cm. Tara Hill blazed forth. To his amazement, however, tlM monarch beheld on the Hill of Slane, visible from Tara, a bright fire kindled early in the evening. This was the Paschal fire which St. Patrick and his missionaries had lighted, for it was Holy Saturday. The king sent for the chief druid, and pointed out to hiTn on the distant horizon the flickering beam that so audaciously violated the sacred laws. The archpriest gazed long and wistfully at the spot, and eyentually answered: " king, there is indeed a flame lighted on yonder hill, which, if it he not put out • Laot;a]\i (pronounced Laori) the Second. H« was son of >«nil theFj^ 48 THE STORY OP IRELAiilD. to-night ivill never he quencliedin Erinn'\ Much disquieted by this oracular answer, Laori directed that the offenders, whoever they might be, should be instantly brought beu fore him for punishment. St. Patrick, on being arrested arrayed himself in his vestments, and, crozier in hand, inarched boldly at the head of his captors, reciting aloud as he went along, a litany which is still extant, in which he invoked, on that momentous day for Erinn", the Holy Trinity, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, ever Blessed Mary the Mother of God, and the saints around the throne of heaven. Having arrived before the king and his assembled courtiers and druidicial high priests, St. Patrick, undismayed, proclaimed to them that he had come to quench the fires of pagan sacrifice in Ireland, and light the flame of Christian faith. The king listened amazed and angered, yet no penalty fell on Patrick. On the con- trary, he made several converts on the spot, and the sermon and controversy in the king's presence proved an auspicious beginning for the glorious mission upon which he had just entered. !> It would fill a large volume to chronicle the progress of the saint through the island. Before his death, though only a few of the reigning princes had embraced the faith (for many years subsequently pagan kings ruled the country) the good seeds had been sown far and wide, and were thriving apace, and the cross had been raised through- out Ireland, "from the centre to the sea". Ours was the only country in Europe, it is said, bloodlessly converted to the faith. Strictly speaking, only one martyr suffered death for the evangelisation of Ireland, and death in this instance had been devised for the saint himself. While St. Patrick was returning from Munster a pagan chieftain formed a design to murder him. The plan came to the knowledge of Odran, the faithful charioteer of Patrick, who, saying nought of it to him, managed to change seatn with the Saint, and thus received himself the fatal blo^ intended for his master. Another authentic anecdote may be mentioned here. At the baptism of Aengus, King of Mononia or Munster, St. Patrick accidentallv pierced through the sandal-covered IBeatf) 0f iJing Bafji* See pages 44, 4^ 4 THE STORY OP IRELAND. 51 foot of the king with his pastoral staff,* which termii] jited in an iron spike, and which it was the Saint's custo,^ to strike into the ground by his side, supporting himself more or less thereby, while preaching or baptizing. The king bore the wound without wincing, until the ceremony was oyer, when St. Patrick with sui-prise and pain beheld the ground covered with blood, and observed the cause. Being questioned by the Saint as to why he did not cry out, Aengus replied, that he thought it was part of the ceremony, to represent, though faintly, the wounds our Lord had borne for man's redemption ! In the year of our Lord 493, on the 17th of March — which day is celebrated as his feast by the Catholic Church and by the Irish nation at home and in exile — St. Patrick departed this life in his favourite retreat of Saul, in the county of Down, where his body was interred. " His obsequies", say the old annalists, continued for twelve days, during which the light of innumerable tapers seemed to turn night into day; and the bishops and priests of Ireland congregated on the occasion". Several of the saint's compositions, chiefly prayers and litanies, are extant. They are full of the most powerful invocations of the saints, and in all other particulars are exactly such prayers and express such doctrines as are taught in our own day in the unchanged and unchange- able Catholic Church. * ** The staff of Jesus" is the name by which the crozier of St. Patrick is always mentioned in the earliest of our annals; a well • preserved tradition asserting it to have been a rood or staff which our Lord had carried. It was brought by St. Patrick from Rome when setting forth by the authority of Pope Celestine to evange- lise Ireland. This staff was treasured as one of the most precious relics on Irish soil for more than one thousand years, and was an object of special veneration. It was sacrilegiously destroyed in the reign of Henry the Eighth by one of Henry's reforming" bishops, who writes to the king boasting of the deed! 52 THE STOBY OF IRELAND. VIII. — A RETROSPECTIVE GLANCE AT PAGAN IRELAND. v< E have now, my dear young friends, arrived at a memorable point in Irish history ; we are about to pass from pagan Ireland to Chris- tian Ireland. Before doing so, it may be well that I should tell you something about matters which require a few words apart from the brief narrative of events which I have been relating for you. Let us pause, and take u glance at the country and the people, at the manners and customs, laws and institutions of our pagan ancestors^ The geographical subdivisions of the country varied in successive centuries. The chief subdivision, the desig- nations of which are most frequently used by the ancient chroniclers, was effected by a line drawn from the hill or ridge on the south bank of the Liffey, on the eastern end of which the castle of Dublin is built, running due west to the peninsula of Marey, at the head of Galway Bay. The portion of Ireland south of this line was called Leah Moha Moh Nua's half"); the portion to the north of it Leah Cuinn (^^ Conn's half"). As these names suggest, this division of the island was first made between two princes, Conn of the Hundred Battles, and Moh Nua, or Eoghan Mor, otherwise Eugene the Great, the former being the head or chief representative of the Milesian ' families descended from Ir, the latter the head of those descended from Heber. Though the primary object of this partition was achieved but for a short time, the names thus given to the two territories are found in use, to designate the northern and southern halves of Ireland, for a thousand years subsequently. Within these there were smaller subdivisions. The ancient names of the four provinces into which Ireland is still divided were, Mononia (Munster), Dalaradia, or XJlidia (Ulster), Lagenia (Leinster), and Conacia, or Conact(Connaught). Again, Mononia was subdivided into THE STORY OP IRELAND. 53 Thomond and Desmond, i.e., north and south Munster. Beside? these names, the territory or district possessed by ever^ jept or clan had a designation of its own. The chief palaces of the Irish kings, whose splendours are celebrated in Irish history, were : the palace of Emania, in Ulster, founded or built by Macha, queen of Cinbaeth the First (pronounced Kimbahe), about the year B.C. 700 ; Tara, in Meath ; Cruachan, in Conact, built by Queen Maeve, the beautiful, albeit Amazonian, Queen of the West, about the year B.C. 100; Aileach, in Donegal, built on the site of an ancient Sun-temple, or Tuatha de Danaan fort-palace. Kincora had not at this period an existence, nor had it for some centuries subsequently. It was never more than the local residence, a palatial castle, of Brian Boruma. It stood on the spot where now stands the town of Killaloe. Emania, next to Tara the most celebrated of all the royal palaces of Ancient Erinn, stood on the spot now marked by a large rath called the Navan Fort, two miles to the west of Armagh. It was the residence of the Ulster kings for a period of 855 years. The mound or Grianan of Aileach, upon which, even for hundreds of years after the destruction of the palace, the O'Donnells were elected, installed, or "inaugurated," is still an object of wonder and curiosity. It stands on the crown of a low hill by the shores of Lough Swilly, about five miles from Londonderry. Eoyal Tara has been crowned with an imperishable fame in song and story. The entire crest and slopes of Tara Hill were covered with buildings at one time ; for it was not alone a royal palace, the residence of the Ard-Ri (or High King) of Erinn, but, moreover, the legislative cham- bers, the military buildings, the law courts, and royal uni- versities that stood thereupon. Of all these, nought now remains but the moated mounds or raths that mark where stood the halls within which bard and warrior, ruler and lawgiver, once assembled in glorious pageant. Of the orders of knighthood, or companionships of valour and chivalry, mentioned in pagan Irish history, the two principal were : the Knights of the (Craev Rua, or) Red 54 I'HK STORY OF IRELAND. Branch of Emania, and the Clanna Morna, or Damnonian Knights of lorras. The former were a Dalaradian, the latter a Conacian body; and, test the records how we may, it is incontrovertible that no chivalric institutions of modern times eclipsed in knightly valour and romantic daring those warrior companionships of ancient Erinn. Besides these orders of knighthood, several military legions figure familiarly and prominently in Irish history ; but the most celebrated of them all, the Dalcassians — one of the most brave and glory-crowned" bodies of which there is record in ancient or modern times — did not figure in Irish history until long after the commencement of the Christian era. The Fianna Eirion, or National Militia of Erinn, I have already mentioned. This celebrated enrolment had the ad- vantage of claiming within its own ranks a warrior-poet, Os- sian (son of the commander Fin), whose poems, taking for their theme invariably the achievements and adventures of the Fenian host, or of its chiefs, have given to it a lasting fame. According to Ossian, there never existed upon the earth another such force of heroes as the Fianna Eirion ; and the feats he attributes to them were of course unparal- leled. He would have us believe there were no taller, straighter, stronger, braver, bolder, men in all Erinn, than his Fenian comrades ; and with the recital of their deeds he mixes up the wildest romance and fable. What is strictly true of them is, that at one period undoubtedly they were a splendid national force; but ultimately they became a danger rather than a protection to the kingdom, and had to be put down by the regular army in the reign of king Carbri the Second, who encountered and destroyed them finally on the bloody battle field of Gavra, about the year A.D. 280. Ben Eder, now called the Hill of Howth, near Dublin, was the camp or exercise ground of the Fianna Eirion when called out annually for training. The laws of pagan Ireland, which were collected and codified in the reign of Cormac the First, and which pre- vailed throughout the kingdom as long subsequently as a vestige of native Irish regal authority remained — a space THE STORY OF IRELAND. 55 of nearly fifteen hundred years — are, even in this present age, exciting considerable attention amongst legislators and sftvans. A royal commission — the " Brehon Laws Com- mission" — appointed by the British government in the year 1856 (chiefly owing to the energetic exertions of Key. Dr. Graves andKev. Dr. Todd, of Trinity College, Dublin), has been labouring at their translation, parliament voting an an- nual sum to defray the expenses. Of course only portions of the original manuscripts are now in existence, but even these portions attest the marvellous wisdom and the pro- found justness of the ancient Milesian Code, and give us a high opinion of Irish jurisprudence two thousand years ago! The Brehon Laws Commission published their first vo- lume, the " Seanchus Mor", in 1865, and a most interesting publication it is. Immediately on the establishment of Christianity in Ireland a royal commission of that day was appointed to revise the statute laws of Erinn, so that they might be purged of everything applicable only to a pagan nation and inconsistent with the pure doctrines of Chris- tianity. On this commission, we are told, there were ap- pointed by the Irish monarch three chief Brehons or judges, three Christian bishops, and three territorial chiefs or viceroys. The result of their labours was presented to the Irish parliament of Tara, and being duly confirmed, the code thenceforth became known as the Seanchus Mor. From the earliest age the Irish appear to have been ex- tremely fond of games, athletic sports, and displays of prowess or agility. Amongst the royal and noble families chess was the chief domestic game. There are indubitable proofs that it was played amongst the princes of Erinn two thousand years ago ; and the oldest bardic chants and verse- histories mention the gold and jewel inlaid chessboards of the kings. Of the passionate attachment of the Irish to music, little need be said, as this is one of the national characteristics which has been at all times most strongly marked, and is now most widely appreciated ; the harp being universally emblazoned as a national emblem of Ireland. Even in the pre-Christian period we are here reviewing, music was an institution" and a power in Erinn. 56 THE STORY OF IRELAND. IX.— CHRISTIAN IRELAND. THB STORY OF COLUMBA, THB DOVE OP THE cell". HE five hundred years, one-half of which preceded the birth of our Lord, may be con- sidered the period of Ireland's great- est power and mili- tary glory as a nation. The five hundred years which succeeded St. Patrick's mis- sion may be regarded as the period of Ireland's Christian and Scholastic fame. In the former she sent her warriors, in the latter her missionaries, all over Europe. Where her fierce hero-kings carried the sword, her saints now bore the cross of faith. It was in this latter period, between the sixth and the eighth cen- turies particularly, that Ireland became known all over Europe as the Insula Sanctorum et Doctorum — " the Island of Saints and Scholars' . ^ Churches, cathedrals, monasteries, convents, universities, THE STORY OF IRELAND. 57- covereJ the island. From even the most distant parts of Europe, kings and their subjects came to study in the Irish schools. King Alfred of Northumberland was educated in one of the Irish universities. A glorious roll of Irish saints aiid scholars belong to this period: St. Columba or Columcille, St. Columbanus, St. Gall, who evangelized Hel- vetia, St. Frigidian, who was bishop of Lucca in Italy, St. Livinus, who was martyred in Flanders, St. Argobast, who became bishop of Strasburg, St. Killian, the apostle of Franconia, and quite a host of illustrious Irish mission- aries, who carried the blessings of faith and education all over Europe. The record of their myriad adventurous enterprises, their glorious labours, their evangelising con- quests, cannot be traced within the scope of this book. There is one, however, the foremost of that sainted band, with whom exception must be made — the first and the great- est of Irish missionary saints, the abbot of lona's isle, whose name and fame filled the world, and the story of whose life is a Christian romance— Columba, the Dove of the Cell".* The personal character of Columba and the romantic incidents of his life, as well as his preeminence amongst the missionary conquerors of the British Isles, seem to have had a powerful attraction for the illustrious Monta- lembert, who, in his great work, "The Monks of the West", traces the eventful career of the saint in language of exquisite beauty, eloquence, and feeling. Moreover, there is this to be said further of that Christian romance, as I have called it, the life of St. Columba, that happily the accounts thereof which we possess are complete, au- thentic, and documentary ; most of the incidents related we have on the authority of well known writers, who lived in Columba' s time and held personal commimication with him or with his companions. The picture presented to us in these life-portraitures of lona's saint is assuredly one to move the hearts of Irishmen, young and old. In Columba two great fea- tures stand out in bold prominence; and never perhaps * CoUmCiUe, or Columbkille; in English, *'Doveof the Cell". 58 THE STORY OF IRELANDi were those two characteristics more powerfully developed in one man — devotion to God and passionate love of country. He was a great saint, but he was as great a "politician", entering deeply and warmly into everything affecting the weal of Clan Nial, or the honour of Erinn. His love for Ireland was something beyond description. As he often declared in his after-life exile, the very breezes that blew on the fair hills of holy Ireland were to him like the zephyrs of paradise. Our story were incomplete indeed, without a sketch, however brief, of ^Hhe Dove of the Cell". Columba* was a prince of the royal race of Nial, his father being the third in descent from the founder of that illustrious house, Mai of the Nine Hostages. He was born at Gartan, in Donegal, on the 7th December, 521. " The Irish legends", says Montalembert, "which are always distinguished, even amidst the wildest vagaries of fancy, by a high and pure morality, linger lovingly upon the childhood and youth of the predestined saint". Before his birth (according to one of these traditions) the mother of Columba had a dream, " which posterity has accepted as a graceful and poetical symbol of her son's career. An angel appeared to her, bringing her a veil covered with flowers of wonderful beauty, and the sweetest variety of colours; immediately after she saw the veil carried away by the wind, and rolling out as it fled over the plains, woods, and mountains. Then the angel said to her, * Thou art about to become the mother of a son, who shall blossom for Heaven, who shall be reckoned among the prophets of God, and who shall lead numberless souls to the heavenly country'". But indeed, according to the legends of the Hy Nial, the coming of their great saint was foretold still more remotely. St. Patrick, they tell us, having come north- ward to bless the territory and people, was stopped at the Daol — the modern Deel or Burndale river — by the break- ing of his chariot wheels. The chariot was repaired, but * His name was C|\iniuhAiin, pronounced Creivau or Creivhaiu THE STORY OP iRELAlTi). 59 again broke down; a third time it was refitted, and a third time it failed at the ford. Then Patrick, addressing those around him, said : Wonder no more: behold, the land from this stream northwards needs no blessing from me ; for a son shall be born there who shall be called the Dove of the Churches; and he shall bless that land; in honour of whom God has this day prevented my doing so". The name Ath-an-Charpaid (ford of the chariot) marks to this day the spot memorised by this tradition. Count Montalembert cites many of these stories of the " childhood and youth of the predestined saint". He was, while yet a child, confided to the care of the priest who had baptized him, and from him he received the first rudiments of education. His guardian angel often appeared to him; and the child asked if all the angels in Heaven were so young and shining as he. A little later, Columba was invited by the same angel to choose among all the virtues that which he would like best to possess. * I choose', said the youth, * chastity and wisdom' ; and immediately three young girls of wonderful beauty but foreign air, appeared to him, and threw themselves on his neck to embrace him. The pious youth frowned, and repulsed them with indig- nation. * What', they said, ^ then thou dost not know us?' *No, not the least in the world'. * We are three sisters, whom our Father gives to thee to be thy brides'. * Who, then, is your Father ?' ' Our Father is God, He is Jesus Christ, the Lord and Saviour of the world'. * Ah, you have indeed an illustrious Father. But what are your names?' * Our names are Virginity, Wisdom, and I^ro- phecy ; and we come to leave thee no more, to love thee with an incorruptible love' ". From the house of this early tutor Columba passed into the great monastic schools, which were not only a nursery for the clergy of the Irish Church, but where also yoimg laymen of all conditions were educated". "While Columba studied at Clonard, being still only a deacon", says his biographer, ^'an incident took place which has been proved by authentic testimony, and which fixed general attention upon him by giving a first evidence of his eupernatural ^d prophetic intuition. An old Christian 60 THE STORY OF IRELANt). bard Ctlie bards were not all Christians) named Germain had come to live near the Abbot Finnian, asking from him, in exchange for his poetry, the secret of fertilizing the soil. Columba, who continued all his life a passionate admirer of the traditionary poetry of his nation, determined to join the school of the bard, and to share his labours and studies. The two were reading together out of doors, at a little distance from each other, when a young girl appeared in the distance pursued by a robber. At the sight of the old man the fugitive made for him with all her remaining p+rength, hoping, no doubt, to find safety in the authority exercised throughout Ireland by the national poets. Ger- main, in great trouble, called his pupil to his aid to defend the unfortunate child, who was trying to hide herself under their long robes, when her pursuer reached the spot. With- out taking any notice of her defenders, he struck her in the neck with his lance, and was making off, leaving her dead at their feet. The horrified old man turned to Columba. ' How long', he said, * will God leave un- punished this crime which dishonours us?' ^ For this mo- ment only', said Columba, *not longer; at this very hour, when the soul of this innocent creature ascends to heaven, the soul of the murderer shall go down to hell'. At the instant, like Ananias at the words of Peter, the assassin fell dead. The news of this sudden punishment, the story goes, went over Ireland, and spread the fame of the young Columba far and wide". At the comparatively early age of twenty-five, Columba had attained to a prominent position in the ecclesiastical world, and had presided over the creation of a crowd of monasteries. As many as thirty-seven in Ireland alone recognized him as their founder. " It is easy", says Mont- alembert, to perceive, by the importance of the monastic establishments which he had brought into being, even be- fore he had attained to manhood, that his influence must have been as precocious as it was considerable. Apart from the virtues of which his after life afforded so many examples, it may be supposed that his royal birth gave him an irresistible ascendancy in a country where, since the introduction of Christianity, all the early saints, like THE STORY OF IRELAND. 61 the principal abbots, belonged to reigning families, and where the influence of blood and the worship of genealogy still continue, even to this day, to a degree unknown in other lands. Springing, as has been said, from the same race as the monarch of all Ireland, and consequently him- self eligible for the same high office, which was more fre- quently obtained by election or usurpation than inheri- tance — nephew or near cousin of the seven monarchs who successively wielded the supreme authority during his life — he was also related by ties of blood to almost all the pro- vincial kings. Thus we see him during his whole career treated on a footing of perfect intimacy and equality by all the princes of Ireland and of Caledonia, and exercising a sort of spiritual sway equal or superior to the authority of secular sovereigns". His attachment to poetry and literature has been already glanced at. He was, in fact, an enthusiast on the sub- ject; he was himself a poet and writer of a high order of genius, and to an advanced period of his life remained an ardent devotee of the niose, ever powerfully moved by whatever affected the weal of the minstrel fraternity. His passion for books (all manuscript, of course, in those days, and of great rarity and value) was destined to lead him into that great offence of his life, which he was after- wards to expiate by a penance so grievous. " He went every- where in search of volumes which he could borrow or copy ; often experiencing refusals which he resented bitterly". In this way occurred what Montalembert calls 'Hhe decisive event which changed the destiny of Columba, and trans- formed him from a wandering poet and ardent book-worm, into a missionary and apostle". While visiting one of his former tutors, Finian, he found means to copy clandes- tinely the abbot's Psalter by shutting himself up at nights in the church where the book was deposited. Indignant at what he considered as almost a theft, Finian claimed the copy when it was finished by Columba, on the ground that a copy made without permission ought to belong to the master of the original, seeing that the transcription is the son of the original book. Columba refused to give up his work, and the question was referred to the king in his 62 THE STORY OF IRELAND. palace of Tara". What immediately follows, I relate in the words of Count Montalembert, summarising or citing almost literally the ancient authors already referred to : ^^King Diarmid, or Dermott, supreme monarch of Ire- land, was, like Columba, descended from the great king Niall, but by another son than he whose great-grandson Columba was. He lived, like all the princes of his coun- try, in a close union with the Church, which was repre- s ented in Ireland, more completely than anywhere else, by the monastic order. Exiled and persecuted in his youth, he had found refuge in an island situated in one of those lakes which interrupt the course of the Shannon, the chief river of Ireland, and had there formed a friendship with a holy monk called Kieran, a zealous comrade of Co- lumba at the monastic school of Clonard, and since that time his generous rival in knowledge and in austerity. Upon the still solitary bank of the river the two friends had planned the foundation of a monastery, which, owing to the marshy nature of the soil, had to be built upon piles. * Plant with me the first stake', the monk said to the exiled prince, ^putting your hand under mine, and soon that hand shall be over all the men of Erinn'; and it happened that Diarmid was very shortly after called to the throne. He immediately used his new power to endow richly the monastery which was rendered doubly dear to him by the recollection of his exile and of his friend. This sanctuary became, under the name of Clonmacnoise, one of the greatest monasteries and most frequented schools of Ire- land, and even of Western Europe. " This king might accordingly be regarded as a competent judge in a contest at once monastic and literary; he might even have been suspected of partiality for Columba, his kinsman, — and yet he pronounced judgment against him. His judgment was given in a rustic phrase which has passed into a proverb in Ireland — To every cow her calf, and, consequently, to every book its copy. Columba protested loudly. ^It is an unjust sentence', he said, *and I will revenge myself. After this incident a young prince, son of the provincial king of Connaught, who was pursued for having committed an involuntary murder, took THE STORY OF IRELAND. 68 refuge with Columba, but was seized and put to death by the king. The irritation of the poet-monk knew no bounds. The ecclesiastical immunity which he enjoyed in his quality of superior and founder of several monasteries, ought to have, in his opinion, created a sort of sanctuary around his person, and this immunity had been scanda- lously violated by the execution of a youth whom he pro- tected. He threatened the king with prompt vengeance. *I will denounce', he said, Ho my brethren and my kin- dred thy wicked judgment, and the violation in my per- son of the immunity of the Church; they will listen to my complaint, and punish thee sword in hand. Bad king, thou shalt no more see my face in thy province, until God, the just judge, has subdued thy pride. As thou hast humbled me to-day before thy lords and thy friends, God will humble thee on the battle-day before thine enemies'. Diarmid attempted to retain him by force in the neigh- bourhood; but, evading the vigilance of his guards, he escaped by night from the court of Tara, and directed his steps to his native province of Tyrconnell. ^'Columba arrived safely in his province, and im- mediately set to work to excite against king Diarmid the numerous and powerful clans of his relatives and friends, who belonged to a branch of the house of Niall, distinct from and hostile to that of the reigning monarch. His efforts were crowned with success. The Hy-Nialls of the north armed eagerly against the Hy-Nialls of the souths of whom Diarmid was the special chief. Diarmid marched to meet them, and they met in battle at Cool-Drewny, or Cul-Dreimhne, upon the borders of Ultonia and Connacia. He was completely beaten, and was obliged to take refuge at Tara. The victory was due, ac- cording to the annalist Tighernach, to the prayers and songs of Columba, who had fasted and prayed with all his might to obtain from Heaven the punishment of the royal insolence, and who, besides, was present at the battle, and took upon himself before all men the re-^ponsihility of the bloodshed, "As for the manuscript which had been tne object of this strange conflict of copyright elevated into a civil wjir^ 64 THE STORY OF IRELAND. it was afterwards venerated as a kind of national, military, and religious palladium. Under the name of Cathach or Fightu, the Latin Psalter transcribed by Columba, en- shrined in a sort of portable altar, became the national relic of the O'Donnell clan. For more than a thousand years it was carried with them to battle as a pledge of victory, on the condition of being supported on the breast of a clerk free from all mortal sin. It has escaped as by miracle from the ravages of which Ireland has been the victim, and exists still, to the great joy of all learned Irish patriots".* But soon a terrible punishment was to fall upon Columba for this dread violence. He, an anointed priest of the Most High, a minister of the Prince of Peace, had made himself the cause and the inciter of a civil war, which had bathed the land in blood — the blood of Christian men — the blood of kindred J > Clearly enough, the violence of political passions, of which this war was the most lamen- table fruit, had, in many other ways, attracted upon the youthful monk the severe opinions of the ecclesiastical authorities. " His excitable and vindictive character", we are told, *^and above all his passionate attachment to his relatives, and the violent part which he took in their do- mestic disputes and their continually recurring rivalries, had engaged him in other struggles, the date of which is perhaps later than that of his first departure from Ireland, * "The Annals of the Four Masters report that in a battle waged in 1497, between the O'Donnells and M'Dermotts, the sacred book fell into the hands of the latter, who, however, restored it in 1499. It was preserved for thirteen hundred years in the O'Donnell family, and at present belongs to a baronet of that name, who has permitted it to be exhibited in the museum of the Eoyal Irish Academy, where it can le seen by all. It is composed of fifty-eight leaves of parchment, bound in silver. The learned O'Curry (p. 322) has given a fac -simile of a fragment of this MS. , which he does not hesitate to believe is in the handwriting of our saint, as well as that of the fine copy of the Gospels called the Book of KellB, of which he has also given a f ac-simile. See Reeves' notes upon Adamnan, p. 250, and the pamphlet upon Marianus Scotus, p. 12". — Count Mon a 'emlert^s note. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 65 but the responsibility of whicli is formally imputed to him by various authorities, and which also ended in bloody battles". At all events, immediately after the battle of Cool Drewney, ^'he was accused by a synod, convoked in the centre of the royal domain at Tailte, of having occa- sioned the shedding of Christian blood". The synod seems to have acted with very uncanonical precipitancy; for it judged the cause without waiting for the defence— though, in sooth, the facts, beyond the power of any defence to remove, were ample and notorious. However, the decision was announced — sentence of excommunication was pro- nounced against him ! " Columba was not a man to draw back before his ac- cusers and judges. He presented himself before the synod which had struck without hearing him. He found a de- fender in the famous Abbot Brendan, the founder of the monastery of Birr. When Columba made his appear- ance, this abbot rose, went up to him, and embraced him. * How can you give the kiss of peace to an excommuni- cated man?' said some of the other members of the synod. * You would do as I have done', he answered, * and you never would have excommunicated him, had you seen what I see — a pillar of fire which goes before him, and the angels that accompany him. I dare not disdain a man predestined by God to be the guide of an entire people to eternal life'. Thanks to the intervention of Brendan, or to some other motive not mentioned, the sentence of ex- communication was withdrawn, but Columba was charged to win to Christ, by his preaching, as many pagan souls as the number of Christians who had fallen in the battle of Cool-Drewny". Troubled in soul, but still struggling with a stubborn self-will, Columba found his life miserable, unhappy, and full of unrest; yet remorse had even now ^'planted in his soul the germs at once of a startling conversion and of his future apostolic mission". Various legends reveal him to us at this crisis of his life, wandering long from solitude to solitude, and from monastery to monastery, seeking out holy monks, masters of penitence and Chris- tian virtue, and asking them anxiously what he should do 6 66 THE STORY OP IRELAND. to obtain tlie pardon of God for the murder of so many Tictims". At length, after many wanderings in contrition and mor- tification, " he found the light which he sought from a holy monk, St. Molaise, famed for his studies of Holy Scripture, and who had already been his confessor". "This severe hermit confirmed the decision of the Bynod ; but to the obligation of converting to the Christian faith an equal number of pagans as there were of Chris- tians killed in the civil war, he added a new condition, which bore cruelly upon a soul so passionately attached to country and kindred. The confessor condemned his peni- tent to perpetual exile from Ireland Exile from Ireland! Did Columba hear the words aright? Exile from Ireland ! What! See no more that land which he loved with such a wild and passionate love ! Part from the brothers and kinsmen all, for whom he felt perhaps too strong and too deep an affection ! Quit for aye the stirring scenes in which so great a part of his sympathies were engaged ! Leave Ireland ! Oh ! it was more hard than to bare his breast to the piercing sword; less welcome than to walk in constant punishment of sufi'ering, so that his feet pressed the soil of his worshipped Erinn ! But it was even so. Thus ran the sentence of Molaise: perpetual exile from Ireland Staggered, stunned, struck to the heart, Columba could not speak for a moment. But God gave him in that great crisis of his life the supreme grace of bearing the blow and embracing the cross presented to him. At last he spoke, and in a voice agitated with emotion he answered: Be it so; what you have commanded shall be done^\ From that instant forth his life was one prolonged act of penitential sacrifice. For thirty years — his heart burst- ing within his breast the while — yearning for one sight of Ireland — he lived and laboured in distant lona. The fame of his sanctity filled the world; religious houses subject to his rule arose in many a glen and isle of rugged Caledonia; the gifts of prophecy and miracle momentously attested him as one of God's most favoured auostles: yet THE STORY OP IRELAND. 67 all the while his heart was breaking ; all the while in his silent cell Columba's tears flowed freely for the one grief that never left him — the wound that only deepened with lengthening time — Tie was away from Ireland! Into all his thoughts this sorrow entered. In all his songs — and several of his compositions still remain to us — this one sad strain is introduced. Witness the following, which, even in its merely literal translation into the English, retains much of the poetic beauty and exquisite tenderness oi the original by Columba in the Gaelic tongue: What joy to fly upon the white-crested sea; and watch the waves break upon the Irish shore! ♦ * ♦ ♦ ♦ My foot is in my little boat; but my sad heart ever bleeds! There is a gray eye which ever turns to Erinn; hut never in this life shall it see Erinn, nor her sons, nor her daughters I From the high prow I look over the sea ; and great tears are in my eyes when I turn to Erinn — To Erinn, where the songs of the birds are so «>weet, and where the clerks sing like the birds: Where the young are so gentle, and the old are so wise ; where the great men are so noble to look at, and the women so fair to wed ! Young traveller ! carry my sorrows with you; carry them to Com- gall of eternal life ! Noble youth, take my prayer with thee, and my blessing: one part for Ireland — seven times may she be blest— and the other for Albyn, Carry my blessing across the sea; carry it to the West. My heart is broken in my breast ! If death comes suddenly to me, it will be because of the great love I bear to the Gael !* It was to the rugged and desolate Hebrides that Columba turned his face when he accepted the terrible penance of * This poem appears to have been presented as a farewell gift by St. Columba to some of the Irish visitors at lona, when re- turning home to Ireland. It is deservedly classed amongst the most beautiful of his poetic compositions. 68 THE STORY OP IRELAND. Molaise. He bade farewell to his relatives, and, with 2 few monks who insisted on accompanying him whitherso- ever he might go, launched his frail currochs from the northern shore. They landed first, or rather were carried by wind and stream, upon the little isle of Oronsay, closi by Islay ; and here for a moment they thought their future abode was to be. But when Columba, with the early morn- ing, ascending the highest ground on the island, to take what he thought would be a harmless look towards the land of his heart, lo ! on the dim horizon a faint blue ridge — the distant hills of Antrim! He averts his head and flies downwards to the strand I Here they cannot stay, if his vow is to be kept. They betake them once more to the currochs, and steering further northward, eventually land upon lona, thenceforth, till time shall be no more, to be famed as the sacred isle of Columba I Here landing, he ascended the loftiest of the hills upon the isle, and "gazing into the distance, found no longer any trace of Ireland upon the horizon". In lona accordingly he resolved to make his home. The spot from whence St. Columba made this sorrowful survey is still called by the isles-men in the Gaelic tongue, Carn-cul-ri-Erinn, or the Cairn of Fare- well — literally, The back turned on Ireland, Writers without number have traced the glories of lona.* Here rose, as if by miracle, a city of churches ; the isle became one vast monastery, and soon much too small for the crowds that still pressed thither. Then from the parent isle there went forth to the surrounding shores, and all over the mainland, off-shoot establishments and missionary colonies (all under the authority of Columba), until in time the Gospel light was ablaze on the hills of * " We are now", said Dr. Johnson, ** treading that illustrious island which was once the luminary of the Caledonian regions ; whence savage clans and roving barbarians derived the benefits of knowledge and the blessings of religion . . . Far from me and from my friends be such frigid philosophy as may conduct us indifferent and unmoved over any ground which has been digni- fied by wisdom, bravery, or virtue. That man is little to be envied whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plain of Marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among the ruins of lona" — Boswell's Tmf/r to the Hebrides, THE STORF OF IRELAND. 69 Albyn ; and the names of St. Columba and lona were on every tongue from Rome to the utmost limits of Europe I This man, whom we have seen so passionate, so irri- table, so warlike and vindictive, became little by little the most gentle, the humblest, the most tender of friends and fathers. It was he, the great head of the Caledonian Church, who, kneeling before the strangers who came to lona, or before the monks returning from their work, took off their shoes, washed their feet, and after having washed them, respectfully kissed them. But charity was still stronger than humility in that transfigured soul. No necessity, spiritual or temporal, found him indifferent. He devoted himself to the solace of all infirmities, all misery, and pain, weeping often over those who did not weep for themselves. The woTk of transcription remained until his last day the occupation of his old age, as it had been the passion of his youth ; it had such an attraction for him, and seemed to him so essential to a knowledge of the truth, that, as we have already said, three hundred copies of the Holy Gospels, copied by his own hand, have been attributed to him". But still Columba carried with him in his heart the great grief that made life for him a lengthened penance. "Far from having any prevision of the glory of lona, his soul", says Montalembert, was still swayed by a sentiment which [never abandoned him — regret for his lost country. All his life he retained for Ireland the passionate tender- ness of an exile, a love which displayed itself in the songs which have been preserved to us, and which date perhaps from the first moment of his exile ^ Death in faultless Ireland is better than life without end in Albyn'. After this cry of despair follow strains more plaintive and submissive. " * But it was not only in these e?-^ies, repeated and perhaps retouched by Irish bards and monks, but at each instant of his life, in season and out of season, that this love and passionate longing for his native country burst forth in words and musings ; the narratives of his most trustworthy biographers are full of it. The most severe 70 THE STORY OF IRELAND. penance which he could have imagined for the guiltiest sinners who came to confess to him, was to impose upon them the same fate which he had voluntarily inflicted on himself — never to set foot again upon Irish soil I But when, instead of forbidding to sinners all access to that beloved isle, he had to smother his envy of those who had the right and happiness to go there at their pleasure, he dared scarcely trust himself to name its name ; and when speaking to his guests, or to the monks who were to return to Ireland, he would only say to them, *you will return to the country that you love'". At length there arrived an event for Colnmba full of ex- cruciating trial — it became necessary for him to revisit Ire- land ! His presence was found to be imperatively required at the general assembly or convocation of the princes and prelates of the Irish nation, convened a.d. 573, by Hugh the Second.* At this memorable assembly, known in his- tory as the great Convention of Drumccat, the first meeting of the States of Ireland held since the abandonment of Tara, there were to be discussed, amongst other important subjects, two which were of deep and powerful interest to Columba: firstly, the relations between Ireland and the Argyle or Caledonian colony ; and secondly, the proposed decree for the abolition of the Bards. The country now known as Scotland was, about the time of the Christian era, inhabited by a barbarous and warlike race called Picts. About the middle of the second century, when Ireland was known to the Romans as Scotia, an Irish chieftain, Carbri Riada (from whom were des- cended the Dalraids of Antrim), crossed over to the wes- tern shores of Alba or Albyn, and founded there a Dala- raidan or Milesian colony. The colonists had a hard time of it with their savage Pictish neighbours ; yet they managed to hold their ground, though receiving very little aid or attention from the parent country, to which never- theless they regularly paid tribute. At length, in the year 503, the neglected colony was utterly overwhelmed by the * Aedh (pronounced Aeh), son of Anmire the First. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 71 Picts, Tvliereupon a powerful force of the Irish Dalraids, under the leadership of Leorn, Aengus, and Fergus, crossed over, invaded Albany, and gradually subjugating the Picts, reestablished the colony on a basis which was the founda- tion eventually of the Scottish monarchy of all subsequent history. To the reestablished colony was given the name by which it was known long after, Scotia Minor; Ireland being called Scotia Major. In the time of St. Columba, the colony, which so far had continuously been assessed by, and had duly paid its tribute to, the mother country, began to feel its com- petency to claim independence. Already it had selected and installed a king (whom St. Columba had formally con- secrated), and now it sent to Ireland a demand to be ex- empted from further tribute. The Irish monarch resisted the demand, which, however, it was decided first to sub- mit to a national assembly, at which the Scottish colony should be represented, and where it might plead its case as best it could Many and obvious considerations pointed to St. Columba as the man of men to plead the cause of the young nationality on this momentous occasion. He was peculiarly qualified to act as umpire in this threaten- ing quarrel between the old country, to which he felt bound by such sacred ties, and the new one, which by adoption was now his home. He consented to attend at the assembly. He did so the more readily, perhaps, be- cause of his strong feelings in reference to the other pro- position named, viz., the proscription of the bards. It may seem strange that in Ireland, where, from an early date, music and song held so high a place in national estimation, such a proposition should be made. But by this time the numerous and absurd immunities claimed by the bardic profession had become intolerable; and by gross abuses of the bardic privileges, the bards themselves had indubitably become a pest to society. King Hugh had, therefore, a strong public opinion at his back in his design of utterly abolishing the bardic corporation. St. Columba, however, not only was allied to them by a fraternity of feeling, but he discerned clearly that by purifying and conserving, rather than by destroying, the 12 THE STORY OF IRELAND. national minstrelsy, it would become a potential influence for good, and would entwine itself gratefully around the shrine within which at such a crisis it found shelter. In fine, he felt, and felt deeply, as an Irishman and as an ecclesiastic, that the proposition of King Hugh would annihilate one of the most treasured institutions of the nation — one of the most powerful aids to patriotism and religion. So, to plead the cause of liberty for a young nationality, and the cause of patriotism, religion, literature, music, and poetry, in defending the minstrel race, St. Columba to Ireland would go ! To Ireland ! But then his tow I His penance sen- tence, that he should never more see Ireland ! How his heart surged ! O great allurement ! O stern resolve I O triumph of sacrifice ! Yes ; he would keep his vow, yet attend the convoca- tion amidst those hills of Ireland which he was never more to see I With a vast array of attendant monks and lay princes, he embarked for the unforgotten land ; but when the galleys came within some leagues of the Irish coast, and before it could yet be sighted, St. Columba caused his eyes to he bandaged with a white scarf, and thus blindfolded was he led on shore! It is said that when he stepped upon the beach, and for the first time during so many years felt that he trod the soil of Ireland, he trembled from head to foot with emotion. When the great saint was led blindfold into the Conven- tion, the whole assemblage — kings, princes, prelates, and chieftains — rose and uncovered as reverentially as if Patrick himself had once more appeared amongst them.* It was, we may well believe, an impressive scene ; and we can well understand the stillness of anxious attention with which all waited to hear once more the tones of that voice which many traditions class amongst the miraculous gifts * Some versions allege that, although the saint himself was re- ceived vdth. reverence, almost with awe, a hostile demonstration was designed, if not attempted, by the king's party against the Scottic delegation who accompanied St. Columba. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 73 of Columba. More than one contemporary writer has des- cribed his personal appearance at this time ; and Monta- lembert says: ^^AU testimonies agree in celebrating his manly beauty, his remarkable height, his sweet and sono- rous voice, the cordiality of his manner, the gracious dignity of his deportment and person". Not in vain did he plead the causes he had come to advocate. Long and ably was the question of the Scot- tish colony debated. Some versions allege that it was amicably left to the decision of Columba, and that his award of several independence, but fraternal alliance, was cheerfully acquiesced in. Other accounts state that king Hugh, finding argument prevailing against his views, angrily drawing his sword, declared he would compel the colony to submission by force of arms; whereupon Columba, rising from his seat, in a voice full of solemnit- and authority, exclaimed: "In the presence of this thread of tyrannic force, I declare the cause ended, and proclaim the Scottish colony free for ever from the yoke!" By whichever way, however, the result was arrived at, the independence of the young Caledonian nation was recog- nized and voted by the convention through the exertions of St. Columba, His views in behalf of the bards likewise prevailed. He admitted the disorders, irregularities, and abuses alleged against the body; but he pleaded, and pleaded successfully, for reform instead of abolition. Time has vindicated the farsighted policy of the statesman saint. The national music and poetry of Ireland, thus purified and consecrated to the service of religion and country, have ever since, through ages of persecution, been true to the holy mission assigned them on that day by Columba. The Dove of the Cell made a comparatively long stay in Ireland, visiting with scarf-bound brow the numerous monastic establishments subject to his rule. At length he returned to lona, where far into the evening of life he waited for his summons to the beatific vision. The miracles he wrought, attested by evidence of weight to move the most callous sceptic, the myriad wondrous signs of God's favour that marked his daily acts, filled all the 74 tHE STORY OP IRELAND. nations with awe. The hour and the manner of his death had long been revealed to him. The precise time he con- cealed from those about him until close upon the last day of his life ; but the manner of his death he long foretold to his attendants. shall die", said he, '^without sick- ness or hurt ; suddenly, but happily, and without accident". At length one day, while in his usual health, he disclosed to Diarmid, his '^minister", or regular attendant monk, that the hour of his summons was nigh, A week before he had gone around the island, taking leave of the monks and labourers ; and when all wept, he strove anxiously to console them. Then he blessed the island and the inhabi- tants. And now", said he to Diarmid, "here is a secret; but you must keep it till I am gone. This is Saturday, the day called Sabbath, or day of rest: and that it will be to me, for it shall be the last of my laborious life". In the evening he retired to his cell, and began to work for the last time, being then occupied in transcribing the Psalter. When he had come to the thirty-third Psalm, and the verse, Inquirentes autem Dominum non deficient omni bond*', he stopped short. cease here", said he; "Baithin must do the rest". Montalembert thus describes for us the " last scene of all":— "As soon as the midnight bell had rung for the matins of the Sunday festival, he rose and hastened before the other monks to the church, where he knelt down before the altar. Diarmid followed him; but, as the church was not yet lighted, he could only find him by groping and crying in a plaintive voice, ' Where art thou, my father?' He found Columba lying before the altar, and, placing himself at his side, raised the old abbot's venerable head upon his knees. The whole community soon arrived with lights, and wept as one man at the sight of their dying father. Columba opened his eyes once more, and turned them to his children at either side with a look full of serene and radiant joy. Then, with the aid of Diarmid, he raised as best he might his right hand to bless them all. His hand dropped, the last sigh came from his lips, and his face remained calm and sweet, like that of a man who in his sleep had seen a vision of heaven". THE STORY OF IRELAND. 75 Like the illustrious French pu^blicist whom I have so largely followed in this sketch, I may say that I have "lingered perhaps too long on the grand form of this monk rising up before us from the midst of the Hebridean sea". But I have, from the missionary saint-army of Ire- land, selected this one— this typical apostle — to illustrate the characters that illumine one of the most glorious pages of our history. Many, indeed, were the Columbs" that went forth from Ireland, as from an ark of faith, bearing blessed olive branches to the mountain tops of Europe, then slowly emerging from the flood of paganism. Well might we dwell upon this period of Irish history ! It was a bright and a glorious chapter. It was soon, alas I to be followed by one of gloom. Five hundred years of military fame and five hundred years of Christian glory were to be followed by five hundred years of disorganising dissensions, leading to centuries of painful bondage. X, THE DANES IN IRELAND. HE first dark cloud came from Scandinavia. Towards the close of the eighth century the Danes made their appearance in Ireland. They came at first as transitory coast marauders, land- ing and sacking a neighbouring town, church, or monastery. For this species of warfare the Irish seem to have been as little prepared as any of the other European countries subjected to the like scourge, that is to say, none of them but the Danes possessed at this period of history a powerful fleet. So when the pirates had wreaked their wQl upon tha city or monastery, in order to plunder which they had landed, they simply reembarked and sailed away comparatively safe from molestation. At length it seems to have occurred to the professional pirates, that in place of making periodical dashes on the Irish coast, they might secure a permanent footing there- apon, and so prepare the way for eventually subjugating the entire kingdom. Accordingly, they came in force and 76 THE STORY OP IRELAND. possessed themselves of several spots favourably placed for such purposes as theirs — sites for fortified maritime cities on estuaries affording good shelter for their fleets, viz.: Dublin, Drogheda, Waterford, Limerick, Wexford, etc. In the fourth year of Nial the Third (about the year ^.'D, 840), there arrived a monster fleet of these fierce and ruthless savages, under the command of Turgesius. They poured into the country and carried all before them. For nearly seven years, Turgesius exercised over a consider- able district kingly authority, and the Irish groaned under the horrors of oppression the most heartless and brutal. Turgesius converted the cathedral at Clonmacnoise into a palace for his own use, and from the high altar, used as a throne, the fierce idolater gave forth his tyrannical com- mands. Meantime the Christian faith was proscribed, the Christian shrines were plundered, the gold and jewels were kept by the spoilers, but the holy relics were sacri- legiously given to destruction. The schools were dis- persed, the books and chronicles burned, and finally the successor of Patrick", the Archbishop of Armagh, was seized, the cathedral sacked, and the holy prelate brought a captive into the Danish stronghold. But a day of retribution was at hand. The divided and disorganized tribes were being bitterly taught the necessity of union. These latest outrages were too much for Christian Irish flesh and blood to bear. Concerting their measures, the people simultaneously rose on their oppressors. Turge- sius was seized and put to death by Malachy, prince of Westmeath, while the Irish Ard-Ri, Nial the Third, at length able to rally a powerful army against the invaders, swooped down upon them from the north, and drove them panic-stricken to their maritime fortresses, their track marked with slaughter. Nial seems to have been a really noble character, and the circumstances under which he met his death, sudden and calamitous, in the very midst of his victorious career, afford ample illustration of the fact. His army had halted on the banks of the Callan river, at the moment swollen by heavy rains. One of the royal domestics or attendants, a common Giolla, in endeavouring to ford the river for some purpose, was swept from his feet THE STORY OP IRELAND. 77 and carried off by the flood. The monarch, who happened to be looking on, cried aloud to his guards to succour the drowning man, but quicker than any other he himself plunged into the torrent. He never rose again. The brave Nial, who had a hundred times faced death in the midst of reddened spears, perished in his effort to save the life of one of the humblest of his followers I The power of the Danes was broken, but they still clung to the seaports, where either they were able to defy efforts at expulsion, or else obtained permission to remain by paying heavy tribute to the Irish sovereign. It is clear enough that the presence of the Danes came, in course of time, to be regarded a« useful and profitable by the Irish, so long as they did not refuse tribute to the native power. The history of the succeeding centuries accordingly — the period of the Danish struggle — exhibits a singular spec- tacle. The Danes made themselves fully at home in the great maritime cities, which they may be said to have founded, and which their commerce certainly raised to im- portance. The Irish princes made alliances betimes with them, and Danes frequently fought on opposite sides in the internecine conflicts of the Irish princes. Occasionally seizing a favourable opportunity — (when the Irish were particularly weakened by internal feud, and when a power- ful reinforcement for themselves arrived from Scandinavia) — they would make a fierce endeavour to extend their do- minion on Irish soil. These efforts were mostly successful for a time, owing to the absence of a strong centralized authority amongst the Irish ; but eventually the Irish, by putting forth their native valour, and even partially com- bining for the time, wore always able to crush them. Yet it is evident that during the three hundred years over which this Danit^h struggle spreads, the Irish nation was undergoing disintegration and demoralization. To- wards the middle of the period, the Danes became con- verted to Christianity ; but their coarse and fierce barba- rism remained long after, and it is evident that contact with such elements, and increasing political disruption amongst themselves, had a fatal effect on the Irish. They absolu- tely retrograded in learning and civilization during this 78 THE STORY OP IRELAND. time and contracted some of the worst vices that could pave the way for the fate that a few centuries more were to bring upon them. National pride may vainly seek to ignore or hide the great truth here displayed. During the three hundred years that preceded the Anglo-Norman invasion, the Irish princes appeared to be given over to a madness marking them for destruction ! At a time when consolidation of national authority was becoming the rule all over Europe, and was becoming so necessary for them, they were going into the other extreme. As the general rule, each one sought only his personal or family ambition or aggrandise- ment, and strove for it lawlessly and violently. Fre- quently when the Ard-Ri of Erinn was nobly grappling with the Danish foe, and was on the point of finally expelling the foreigner, a subordinate prince would seize what seemed to him the golden opportunity for throwing off the autho- rity of the chief king, or for treacherously endeavouring to grasp it himself! During the whole time — three centuries — ^there was scarcely a single reign in which the Ard-Ri did not find occupation for his arms as constantly in com- pelling the submission of the subordinate native princes, as in combating the Scandinavian foe. Religion itself suffered in this national declension. In these centuries we find professedly Christian Irish kings themselves as ruthless destroyers of churches and schools as the pagan Danes of a few years previous. The titles of the Irish episcopacy were sometimes seized by lay princes for the sake of the revenues attached to them ; the spiri- tual functions of the offices, however, being performed by ecclesiastics meanwhile. In fine, the Irish national character in those centuries is to be censured, not admired. It would seem as if by adding sacrilege and war upon reli- gion and on learning to political suicide and a fatal frenzy of factiousness, the Irish princes of that period were doing their best and their worst to shame the glories of their nation in the preceding thousand years, and to draw down upon their country the terrible chastisement that even- tually befel it, a chastisement which never could hare be- fallen it, but for tlie state of things I am here pointing out. THB STORY OF IRELAND. 79 Yet was this gloomy period lit up by some brilliant flashes of glory, the brightest, if not the last, being that which surrounds the name of Clontarf, where the power of the Danes in Ireland was crushed totally and for ever. XI.— HOW " BRIAN OP THE TRIBUTE" BECAME A HIGH KINO OP ERINN. EW historical names are more widely known amongst Irishmen than that of Brian the First — " Brian Boru, or Boru- mha";* and the story of his life is a nocessary and an interesting introduc- tion to an account of the battle of Clontarf That is, Brian of the Tribute". 80 THE STORY OF IRELAND. About the middle of the tenth century the crown of Munsterwaswornby Mahon,son of Ceineidi(pr. Kennedy), a prince of the Dalcassian family. Mahon had a young brother, Brian, and by all testimony' the affection which existed between the brothers was something touching. Mahon, who was a noble character — "as a prince and cap- tain in every way worthy of his inheritance" — was accom- panied in all his expeditions, and from an early age, by Brian, to whom he acted not only as a brother and prince, but as military preceptor. After a brilliant career, Mahon fell by a deed of deadly treachery, A rival prince of south Munster — "Molloy, son of Bran, Lord of Desmond" — whom he had vanquished, proposed to meet him in friendly conference at the house of Donovan, an Eugenian chief. The safety of each person was guaranteed by the Bishop of Cork, who acted as mediator between them. Mahon, chivalrous and imsuspecting, went unattended and un- armed to the conference. He was seized by an armed band of Donovan's men, who handed him over to a party of Molloy's retainers, by whom he was put to death. He had with him, as the sacred and (as it ought to have been) in- violable " safe-conduct" on the faith of which he had trusted himself into the power of his foes, a copy of the Gospels written by the hand of St. Barre. As the assassins drew their swords upon him, Mahon snatched up the sacred scroll, and held it on his breast, as if he could not credit that a murderous hand would dare to wound him through such a shield I But the murderers plunged their swords into his heart, piercing right through the vellum, which became all stained and matted with his blood. Two priests had, horror-stricken, witnessed the outrage. They caught up the bloodstained Gospels and fled to the bishop, spread- ing through the country as they went the dreadful news which they bore. The venerable successor of St. Fin Bar, we are told, wept bitterly and uttered a prophecy concern- ing the fate of the murderers, which was soon and remark- ably fulfiUed. *^ When the news of his noble-hearted brother's death was brought to Brian at Kincora, he was seized with the most violent grief His favourite harp was taken down, and he THE STORY OP IRELAND. 81 Bang the death-song of Mahon, reconnting all the glorious actions of his life. His anger flashed out through his tears as he wildly chaunted — • My heart shall hurst within my hreast. Unless I avenge this great king. They shall forfeit life for this foul deed, Or I must perish hy a violent death'. " But the climax of his grief was, that Mahon ' had not fallen behind the shelter of his shield, rather than trust the treacherous word of Donovan".* A " Bard of Thomond" in our own day— one not un- worthy of his proud pseudonym— Mr. M. Hogan of Lime- rick, has supplied the following very beautiful version of Brian's Lament for King Mahon" Lament, O Dalcassians! the Eagle of Cashel is dead! The grandeur, the glory, the joy of her palace is Hed; Your strength in the battle — your bulwark of valour is low, But the fire of your vengeance will fall on the murderous foe! His country was mighty — his people were blest in his reign, But the ray of his glory shall never shine on them again; Like the beauty of summer his presence gave joy to our souls, When bards sung his deeds at the banquet of bright golden bowls. Ye maids of Temora, whose rich garments sweep the green plain ! Ye chiefs of the Sunburst, the terror and scourge of the Dane ! Ye gray-haired Ard-Fileas ! whose songs fire the blood of the brave ! Oh ! weep, for your Sun-star is quenched in the night of the grave. He clad you with honours — he filled your high hearts with delight. In the midst of your coimcils he beamed in his wisdom and might; Gold, silver, and jewels were only as dust in his hand. But Ids sword like a lightning- flash blasted the foes of his land. Oh! Mahon, my brother ! we 've conquered and marched side by side, And thou wert to the love of my soul as a beautiful bride ; In the battle, the banquet, the council, the chase and the throne, Our beings were blended — our spirits were filled with one tone. •MK}ec. 6 82 THE STORY OF IRELAND, Oh ! Mahon, my brother ! thou *8t died like the hind of the wood, The hands of assassins were red with thy pure noble blood ; And I was not near, my beloved, when thou wast o'erpower'd, To steep in their hearts' blood the steel of my blue-beaming sword. I stood by the dark misty river at eve dim and gray, And I heard the death-cry of the spirit of gloomy Craglilea ; She repeated thy name in her caoine of desolate woe, Then I knew that the Beauty and Joy of Clan Tail was laid low. All day and all night one dark vigil of sorrow I keep, My spirit is bleeding with wounds that are many and deep ; My banquet is anguish, tears, groaning, and wringing of hands, In madness lamenting my prince of the gold-hilted brands. O God 1 give me patience to bear the affliction I feel, But for every hot tear a red blood-drop shall blush on my steel ; For every deep pang which my grief-stricken spirit has known, A thousand death- wounds in the day of revenge shall atone. And he smote the murderers of his brother with a swift and terrible vengeance. Mustering his Dalcassian legions, which so often with Mahon he had led to victory, he set lorth upon the task of retribution. His first effort, the old records tell us, was directed against the Danes of Limerick, who were Donovan's allies, and he slew Ivor, their king, and his two sons. Foreseeing their fate, they had fled before him, and had taken refuge in " Scattery's Holy Isle*'. But Brian slew them even between the horns of the altar". Next came the turn of Donovan, who had meantime hastily gathered to his aid the Danes of South Munster. But Brian", say the Annals of Innisfallen, ^^gave them battle, end Auliffe and his Danes, and Donovan and his allies, ^weie all cut off". Of all guilty in the murder of the brother whom he so loved, there now remained but one — the principal, Molloy, son of Bran. After the fashion in those times, Brian sent Molloy a formal summons or cita- tion to meet him in battle until the terrible issue between them should be settled. To this Molloy responded by confederating all the Irish and Danes of South Munster whom he could rally, for yet another encounter with the avenging Dalcassian. But the curse of the Comharba of St. Barre was upon the murderers of Mahon, and the might of a passionate vengeance was in Brian's arm. Agaio THE STORY OF IRELAND. 83 he was victorious. The confederated Danes and Irish were overthrown with great slaughter ; Brian's son, Morrogh, then a mere lad, killing the murderer of his uncle Mahon with his own hand". Molloy was buried on the north side of the mountain where Mahon had been murdered and interred : on Mahon the sun shone full and fair ; but on the grave of his assassin the black shadow of the northern sky- rested always. Such was the tradition which all Munster piously believed. After this victory Brian was universally acknowledged king of Munster, and until Ard-Ri Malachy won the battle of Tara, was justly considered the first Irish captain of his age".* This was the opening chapter of Brian's career. Thence- forth his military reputation and his political influence are found extending far beyond the confines of Munster. The supreme crown of Ireland at this time was worn by a brave and enlightened sovereign, Malachy the Second, or Malachy Mor. He exhibited rare qualities of states- manship, patriotism, and valour, in his vigorous efforts against the Danes. On the occasion of one of his most signal victories over them, he himself engaged in combat two Danish princes, overcame and slew both of them, taking from off the neck of one a massive collar of gold,, and from the grasp of the other a jewel-hilted sword, which he himself thenceforward wore as trophies. To this monarch, and to the incident here mentioned, Moore alludes in his well-known lines : — Let Erin remember the days of old, Ere her faithless sons betrayed her, When Malachy wore the collar of gold That he won from the proud invader. Whether it was that Ard-Ri Malachy began to fear the increasing and almost over-shadowing power and influence of his southern tributary, or that Brian had in his pride of strength refused to own his tributary position, it seems im- possible to tell ; but unfortunately for Ireland the brave ♦M^Gee, 84 THE STORY OP IRELAND. and wise Ard-Ei Malachy, and tlie not less brave and wise tributary Brian, became embroiled in a bitter war, the re- mote but indubitable consequeDces of which most power- fully and calamitously affected the future destinies of Ire- land. For nearly twenty years the struggle between them continued. Any adversary less able than Malachy would have been quickly compelled to succumb to ability such as Brian's ; and it may on the other hand be said that it was only a man of Brian's marvellous powers whom Malachy could not effectively crush in as many months. Two such men united could accomplish anything with Ireland ; and when they eventually did unite, they absolutely swept the Danes into their walled and fortified cities, from whence they had begun once moie to overrun the country during the distractions of the struggle between Malachy and Brian. During the short peace or truce between himself and the Ard-Ri, Brian — who was a sagacious diplomatist as well as great general — seems to have attached to his interest nearly all the tributary kings, and subsequently even the Danish princes ; so that it was easy to see that already his eye be- gan to glance at the supreme crown. Malachy saw it all, and when the decisive moment at last arrived, and Brian, playing Casar, crossed the Rubicon", thenow only titular Ard-Ri made a gallant but brief defence against the am- bitious usurper — for such Brian was on the occasion. After this short effort Malachy yielded with dignity and calmness to the inevitable, and gave up the monarchy of Erinn to Brian. The abdicated sovereign thenceforward served under his victorious rival as a subordinate, with a readiness and fidelity which showed him to be Brian's superior at least in unselfish patriotism and in readiness to sacrifice personal pride and personal rights to the public interests of his country. Brian, now no longer king of Munster, but Ard-Ri of Erinn, found his ambition f^Wj crowned. The power and authority to which he had thus attained, he wielded with a wisdom, a sagacity, a firmness, and a success that made his reign as Ard-Ri, while it lasted, one of almost unsur- passed glory, prosperity, and happiness for Ireland. Yet the student of Irish history finds no fact more indelibly THE STORY OF IRELAND, 85 marked on hh mind by the thoughtful study of the great page before him, than this, namely, that, glorious as was Brian's reign — brave, generous, noble, pious, learned, ac- complished, politic, and wise, as he is confessed on all hands to have been — his seizure of the supreme national crown was a calamity for Ireland. Or rather, perhaps, it would be more correct and more just to say, that having reference not singly to his ambitious seizure of the national crown, but also to the loss in one day of his own life and the lives of his next heirs (both son and grandson), the event resulted calamitously for Ireland. For it threw open the sovereignty to every great family as a prize to be won by policy or force, and no longer an inheritance to be determined by law and usage. The consequences were what might have been expected. After his death the O'Connors of the West competed with both O'Neills and O'Briens for supremacy, aud a chronic civil war prepared the ivay for Strongbow and the Normans, The term * kings with opposition' is applied to nearly all who reigned between king Brian's time and that of Roderic O'Connor" (the Norman invasion), meaning thereby kings who were unable to secure general obedience to their administration of affairs".* Brian, however, in all probability, as the historian I have quoted pleads on his behalf, might have been moved by the great and statesmanlike scheme of consolidating -wA fusing Ireland into one kingdom; gradually repres^iT^'.' i- dividuality in the subordinate principalities, and luj lug liie firm foundation of an enduring and compact monarchical state, of which his own posterity would be the sovereigns. "For Morrogh, his first-born, and for Morrogh's descen- dants he hoped to found an hereditary kingship after the type universally copied throughout Christendom. He was not ignorant of what Alfred had done for England, Har- old for Norway, Charlemagne for France, and Otho for Germany". If any such design really inspired Brian's course, it was a grandly useful one, comprehensive, and • MKJee. 86 THE STORY OF IRELAND. truly national. Its realization was just what Ireland wanted at that period of her history. But its existence in Brian's mind is a most fanciful theory. He was him- self, while a tributary king, no wondrous friend or helper of centralised authority. He pushed from the throne a wise and worthy monarch. He grasped at the sceptre, not in a reign of anarchy, but in a period of comparative order, authority, and tranquillity. Be that as it may, certain it is that Brian was " every inch a king". Neither on the Irish throne, nor on that of any other kingdom, did sovereign ever sit more splendidly qualified to rule ; and Ireland had not for some centuries known such a glorious and prosperous, peaceful, and happy time as the five years preceding Brian's death. He caused his authority to be not only unquestioned, but obeyed and respected in every corner of the land. So justly were the laws administered in his name, and so loyally obeyed throughout the kingdom, that the bards relate a rather fanciful story of a young and exquisitely beautiful lady, making, without the slightest apprehension of violence or insult, and in perfect safety, a tour of the island on foot, alone and unprotected, though bearing about her the most costly jewels and ornaments of gold I A national min- strel of our own times has celebrated this illustration of the tranquillity of Brian's reign in the well known poem, Rich and rare were the gems she wore". XII. HOW A DARK THUNDER-OLOUD GATHERED OVER IRELAND. ur^ BOUT this time the Danish power all over Europe had made considerable advances. In -^;|^Sjp France it had fastened itself upon Normandy, '^f^rli? England it had once more become vic- yX^W^ torious, the Danish prince, Sweyne, having been {/^^ proclaimed king of England in 1013, though it was not until the time of his successor, ^ Canute, that the Danish line were undisputed monarchs of England. All these triumphs made them THE STOET OP IRELAND. 87 turn their attention the more earnestly to Ireland, which they so often and so desperately, yet so vainly, sought to win. At length the Danes of this country — holding several of the large sea-port cities, but yielding tribute to the Irish monarch — seem to have been roused to the design of rallying all the might of the Scanian race for one gigantic and supreme effort to conquer the kingdom: for it was a reflection hard for northmen to endure, that they who had conquered England almost as often as they tried, who had now placed a Danish sove- reign on the English throne, and had established a Danish dukedom of Normandy in France, had never yet been able to bring this dearly coveted western isle into subjection, and had never once given a monarch to its line of kings. Coincidently with the victories of Sweyne in England, several Danish expeditions appeared upon the Irish coast: now at Cork in the south, now at Lough Foyle in the north ; but these were promptly met and repelled by the vigour of the Ard-Ri, or of the local princes. These forays, however, though serious and dangerous enough, were but the prelude to the forthcoming grand assault, or as it has been aptly styled, "the last field-day of Chris- tianity and Paganism on Irish soil". " A taunt thrown out over a game of cness at Kincora is said to have hastened this memorable day. Maelmurra, prince of Leinster, playing or advising on the game, made or recommended a false move, upon which Morrogh, son of Brian, observed it was no wonder his friends the Danes (to whom he owed his elevation) were beaten at Glen- mana, if he gave them advice like that. Maelmurra, highly incensed by the allusion — all the more severe for its bitter truth — arose, ordered his horse, and rode away in haste. Brian, when he heard it, despatched a messenger after the indignant guest, begging him to return; but Maelmurra was not to be pacified, and refused. We next hear of him as concerting with certain Danish agents, always open to such negotiations, those measures which led to the great invasion of the year 1014, in which the whole Scanian race, from Anglesea and Man^ north to Norway, bore an active share. 88 THE STORY OF IRELAND. " These agents passing over to England and Man, among the Scottish isles, and even to the Baltic, followed up the design of an invasion on a gigantic scale. Suibne, earl of Man, entered warmly into this conspiracy, and sent ' the war-arrow' through all those ' out-islands' which obeyed him as lord. A yet more formidable potentate, Sigurd, of the Orkneys, next joined the league. He was the fourteenth earl ol Orkney, of Norse origin, and his power , was at this period a balance to that of his nearest neigh- bour, the king of Scots. He had ruled since the year 996, not only over the Orkneys, Shetland, and Northern Hebri- des, but the coasts of Caithness and Sutherland, and even Ross and Moray rendered him homage and tribute. Eight years before the battle of Clontarf, Malcolm the Second of Scotland had been fain to purchase his alliance by giving him his daughter in marriage, and the kings of Denmark and Norway treated with him on equal terms. The hun- drea inhabited isles which lie between Yell and Man, — isles which after their conversion contained * three hun- dred churches and chapels' — sent in their contingents, to swell the following of the renowned earl Sigurd. As his fleet bore southward from Kirkwall, it swept the subject coast of Scotland, and gathered from every lough its galleys and its fighting-men. The rendezvous was the Isle of Man, where Suibne had placed his own forces, under the command of Brodar, or Broderick, a famous leader against the Britons of Wales and Cornwall. In conjunction with Sigurd, the Manxmen sailed over to Ire- land, where they were joined, in the Liffey, by earl Ca- nuteson, prince of Denmark, at the head of fourteen hun- dred champions clad in armour. Sitric of Dublin stood, or affected to stand, neutral in these preparations, but Maelmurra of Leinster had mustered all the forces he could command for such an expedition".* Here was a mighty thunder-storm gathering over and around Ireland ! Never before was an effort of such mag- nitude made for the conquest of the island. Never before • M*Gee. THE STORY OF IRELAND, 8d nad the Danish power so palpably put forth its utmost strength, and never hitherto had it put forth such strength in vain. This was the supreme moment for Ireland to show what she could do when united in self-defence against a foreign invader. Here were the unconquered Northmen, the scourge and terror of Europe, the con- querors of Britain, Normandy, Anglesea, Orkney, and Man, now concentrating the might of their whole race, from fiord and haven, from the Orkneys to the Scilly Isles, to burst in an overwhelming billow upon Ireland I If before a far less formidable assault England went down, dare Ireland hope now to meet and withstand this tremen- dous shock? In truth, it seemed a hard chance. It was a trial-hour for the men of Erinn. And gloriously did they meet it ! Never for an instant were they daunted by the tidings of the extensive and mighty preparations going forward ; for the news filled Europe, and a hundred harbours in Norway, Denmark, France, England, and the Channel Isles resounded day and night with the bustle preparatory for the coming war. Brian was fully equal to the emergency. He resolved to meet force by force, combination by combination, preparation by preparation ; to defy the foe, and let them see what Irishmen could do". His efforts were nobly seconded by the zeal of all the tributary princes (with barely a few exceptions), but most nobly of all by the deposed Malachy, whose conduct upon this occasion alone would entitle him to a proud place in the annals of Ireland. In one of the preliminary expeditions of the Danes a few years previously, he de- tected more quickly than Brian the seriousness of the work going forward ; he sent word hurriedly to Kincora that the Danes, who had landed near Dublin, were marching inward, and entreated of Brian to hasten to check them promptly. The Ard-Ri, however, was at that time abso- lutely incredulous that anything more serious than a paltry foray was designed; and he refused, it is said, to lend any assistance to the local prince. But Malachy had a truer conception of the gravity of the case. He himself marched to meet the invaders, and in a battle which en- sued, routed them, losing, however, in the hour of victory do THE STORY OP IRELAND. his son Flann. This engagement awakened Brian to a sense of the danger at hand. He quickly despatched an auxiliary force, under his son Morrogh, to Malachy's aid; but the Danes, driven into their walled city of Dublin by Malachy, did not venture out; and so the Dal- cassian force returned southwards, devastating the terri- tory of the traitor, Maelmorha, of Leinster, whose perfidy was now openly proclaimed. XIII. THE GLORIOUS DAY OP CLONTARP. RIAN soon became fully aware of the scheme at which the Danes all over Europe were labouring, and of the terrible trial approaching for Ireland. Through all the autumn of that year, 1013, and the spring months of the year following, the two powers, Danish and Irish, were working hard at preparations for the great event, each straining every energy and sum- moning every resource for the crisis. Towards the close of March, Brian's arrangements being completed, he gave the order for a simultaneous march to Kilmainham,* usually the camping ground and now the appointed rendezvous of the national forces. By the second week in April there had rallied to the national standard a force which, if nu- merically unequal to that assembled by the invaders, was, as the result showed, able to compensate by superior valour for whatever it lacked in numbers. The lords of all the southern half of the kingdom — the lords of Decies, Inchi- quin, Fermoy, Corca-Baiskin,Kinalmeaky.and Kerry — and the lords of Hy-Manie and Hi-Fiachra in Connacht, we are told, hastened to Brian's standard. O'More and O'Nolan of Leinster, and Donald, Steward of Marr, in Scotland, * The district north aiid south of the LifFey at this point — the Phoenix Park, Ivilmainliam, Inchicore, and Chapel-Izod— waa the rendezvous. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 91 continues the historian, " were the other chieftains who joined him before Clontarf, besides those of his own kin- dred", or the forces proper of Thomond.* Just one faint shadow catches the eye as we survey the picture presented by Ireland in the hour of this great national rally. The northern chieftains, the lords of Ulster, alone held back. Sullen and silent, they stirred not. They had submitted to Brian ; but they never cordially supported him". The great Danish flotilla, under Brodar, the admiral-in- chief, entered Dublin Bay on Palm Sunday, the 18th of April, 1014. The galleys anchored, some of them at Sutton, near Howth, others were moored in the mouth of the river LiiBfey, and the rest were beached or anchored in a vast line stretching along the Clontarf shore, which sweeps between the two points indicated. Brian imme- diately swung his army round upon Glasneviu, crossed the Tolka at the point where the Botanical Gardens now stand, and faced his line of battle southward towards where the enemy were encamped upon the shore. Mean- time, becoming aware that Maelmorra, prince of Leinster, was so eager to help the invader, that he had entered the Danish camp with every man of his following, Brian secretly despatched a body of Dalcassians, under his son Donagh, to dash into the traitor's territory and waste it with fire and sword. The secret march southward of the Dalcassians was communicated to Maelmorra by a spy in Brian's camp, and, inasmuch as the Dalcassians were famed as the invincible legion" of the Irish army, the traitor urged vehemently upon his English allies that this • ** Under the standard of Brian Borumba also fought that day tne Maermors, or Great Stewards of Lennox and Mar, with a contingent of the brave Gaels of Alba. It would even appear, from a Danish account, that some of the Northmen who had always been friendly to Brian, fought on his side at Clontarf. A large body of hardy men came from the distant maritime districts of Connemara; many warriors flocked from other territories, and, on the whole, the rally- ing of the men of Ireland in the cause of their country upon that occasion, as much as the victory which their gallantry achieved^ renders the event si proud and cheering one in Irish history**— Hav(:rty, 92 THE STORY OF IRELAND. was the moment to give battle — while Brian's best troops were away. Accordingly, on Holy Thursday, the Danes announced their resolution to give battle next day. Brian had the utmost reluctance to fight upon that day, which would be Good Friday, thinking it almost a profanation to engage in combat upon the day on which our Lord died for man's redemption He begged that the engagement might be postponed even one day ; but the Danes were all the more resolute to engage on the next morning, for, says an old legend of the battle, Brodar, having consulted one of the Danish pagan oracles, was told that if he gave battle upon the Friday Brian loonld fall. With early dawn next day, Good Friday, 23rd of April, 1014, all was bustle in both camps.* The Danish army, facing inland, northwards or north-east, stretched along the shore of Dublin Bay ; its left flank touching and pro- tected by the city of Dublin, its centre being about the spot where Clontarf castle now stands, and its right wing resting on Dollymount. The Irish army, facing south- wards, had its right on Drumcondra, its centre on Fair- view, and its extreme left on Clontarf. The Danish forces were disposed of in three divisions, of which the first, or left, was composed of the Danes of Dublin, under their king, Sitric, and the princes Dolat and Conmael, with the • Ilaverty says; *'TIie exact site of the battle seems to be tolerably well defined. In some copies of the Annals it is called * the Battle of the Fisliing-weir of Clontarf; and tlie weir in question must have been at the mouth of the Tolka, about the place where Ballybough Bridge now stands. It also appears tliat the principal destruction of the Danes took place when in their flifijht they endeavoured to cross the Tolka, probably at the moment of high water, when great numbers of them were drowned; and it is expressly stated that they were pur- sued with great slaughter * from the Tolka to Dublin' ". I, however, venture, though with proper diffidence, to suggest that the * Fishing weir* stood a short distance higher up the river, to wit, at Clonliffe, directly below where the College of the Holy Cross now stands. For there is, in my opinion, ample evidence to show that at that time the sea flowed over the flats on the city side, by which Ballybough Bridge is now approached, making a goodly bay, or wide estuary, there; and that only about the point I indicate was a fishing- weir likely to have stood in 1014. THE STORY OF IRBLAliD, 9S thousand Norwegians already mentioned as clothed in suits of ringed mail, under the youthful warriors Carlus and Anrud ; the second, or central division, was composed chiefly of the Lagenians, commanded by Maelmorha him- self, and the princes of Offaly and of the Liffey territory ; and the third division, or right wing, was made up of the auxiliaries from the Baltic and the Islands, under Brodar, admiral of the fleet, and the Earl of Orkneys, together with some British auxiliaries from Wales and Cornwall. To oppose these the Irish monarch also marshalled his forces in three corps or divisions. The first, or right wing, composed chiefly of the diminished legions of the brave Dalcassians, was under the command of his son Morrogh, who had also with him his four brothers, Tiege, Donald, Conor, and Flann, and his own son (grandson of Brian), the youthful Torlogh, who was but fifteen years of age. In this division also fought Malachy with the Meath con- tingent. The Irish centre division comprised the troops of Desmond, or South Munster, under the command of Kian, son of Molloy, and Donel, son of Duv Davoren (^ancestor of The O'Donoghue), both of the Eugenian line. The Irish left wing was composed mainly of the forces of Connaught, under 0' Kelly, prince of Hy-Manie (the great central terri- tory of Connact) O'Heyne, prince of Hy-Fiachra Ahna; and Echtigern, king of Dalaradia. It is supposed that Brian's army numbered about 20,000 men.* All being ready for the signal of battle, Brian himself, mounted on a richly-caparisoned charger, rode through the Irish lines, as all the records are careful to tell us, " with his sword in one hand, and a crucifix in the other"; exhorting the troops to remember the momentous issues that depended upon the fortunes of that day — Eeligion and Country against Paganism and Bondage. It is said^ that on this occasion he delivered an address w^hich moved his soldiers, now to tears, and anon to the utmost pitch of enthusiasm and resolution. And we can well imagine the eflfect, upon an army drawn up as they were for the onset Abridged from Haverty. 94 THE STORY OF IRELAND. of battle in defence of Faith and Fatherland", of such a sight and such an appeal — their aged and venerable monarch, " his white hair floating in the wind", riding through their lines, with the sacred symbol of Redemption borne aloft, and adjuring them, as the chronicles tell us, to " remember that on this day Christ died for us, on the Mount of Calvary'', Moreover, Brian himself had given them an earnest, such perhaps as monarch had never given before, of his resolve, that with the fortunes of his country- he and his sons and kinsmen all would stand or fall. He had brought his sons and nephews there", says the historian, who might have added, and even his grand- children, and showed that he was prepared to let the ex- istence of his race depend upon the issue of the day". We may be sure a circumstance so affecting as this was not lost upon Brian's soldiers. It gave force to every word of his address. He recounted, we are told, all the barbari- ties and the sacrileges perpetrated by the invaders in their lawless ravages on Irish soil, the shrines they had plun- dered, the holy relics they had profaned, the brutal cruel- ties they had inflicted on unarmed non-combatants — nay, on 'Hhe servants of the Altar". Then, raising the crucifix aloft, he invoked the Omnipotent God to look down upon them that day, and to strengthen their arms in a cause so just and holy. Mr. William Kenealy (now of Kilkenny) is the author of a truly noble poem which gives with all the native vigour and force of the original, this thrilling Address of Brian to his army". Stand ye now for Erin's glory ! Stand ye now for Erin's cause ! Long ye 've groaned beneath the rigour of the Northmen's savage laws. What thougli brothers league against us? What, though myriads be the foe? Victory will be more honoured in the myriads' overthrow. Proud Connacians! oft we *ve wrangled in our petty feuds of yore; Now we tight against the robber Dane upon our native shore; May our hearts unite in friendship, as our blood in one red tide, While we crush their mail-clad legions, and annihilate their pride! Brave EugeniansI Erin triumphs in the sight she sees to-day- Desmond's homesteads all deserted for the muster and the frayf ISrtan on tTjr fHomi'ng of Clontarf. piMibb <« and 94 lt.jC STORY OF IRELAND. 97 Cluan*s vale and Galtees' summit send their bravest and their beat— - May such hearts be theirs for ever, for the Freedom of the Westl Chiefs and Kernes of Dalcassia! Brothers of my past career, Oft, we 've trodden on the pirate-flag that flaunts before us here; You remember Inniscattery, how we bounded on the foe, As the torrent of the mountain bursts upon the plain below! They have razed our proudest castles— spoiled the Temples of the Lord — Burnt to dust the sacred relics — put the Peaceful to the sword— Desecrated all things holy — as they soon may do again, If their power to-day we smite not— if to-day wc be not men! « • * • On this day the God-man suffered — look upon the sacred sign — May we conquer 'neath its shadow, as of old did Constantine! May the heathen tribe of Odin fade ])efore it like a dream, And the triumph of this glorious day in our future annals gleam! God of heaven, bless our banner — nerve our sinews for the strife I Fight we now for all that *s holy — for our altars, land, and life — For red vengeance on the spoiler, whom the blazing temples trace — For the honour of our maidens and the glory of our race ! Should I fall before the foeman, 't is the death I seek to-day ; Should ten thousanjd daggers pierce me, bear my body not away, Till this day of days be over — till the field is fought and won — Then the holy Mass be chaunted, and the funeral rites be done. • • * « Men of Erin! men of Erin! grasp the battle-axe and spear! Chase these Northern wolves before you like a herd of frightened deer! Burst their ranks, like bolts from heaven! Down on the heathen crew, For the glory of the Crucified, and Erin's glory too! Who can be astonished that, as he ceased, a shout wild, furious, and deafening, burst from the Irish lines? A cry arose from the soldiers, we are told, demanding instantly to be led against the enemy. The aged monarch now placed himself at the head of his guards, to lead the van of battle; but at this point his sons and all the attendant princes and commanders protested against his attempting, at his advanced age, to take part personally in the conflict; and eventuaJly, after much efifort, they succeeded in pre- 7 98 THE STOBT OF TRFT.AKT>. vailing upon him to retire to his tent and to let the chief command devolve upon his eldest son Morrogh. *^The battle", says a historian, *Hhen commenced; 'a spirited, fierce, violent, vengeful, and furious battle ; the likeness of which was not to be found at that time', as thw old annalists qnaintly describe it. It was a conflict of heroes. The chieftains engaged at every point in singiw combat ; and the greater part of them on both sides fell. The impetuosity of the Irish was irresistible, and their battle-axes did fearful execution, every man of the ten hundred mailed warriors of Norway having been made to bite the dust, and it was against them, we are told, that the Dalcassians had been obliged to contend single-handed. The heroic Morrogh performed prodigies of valour through- out the day. Ranks of men fell before him ; and, hewing his way to the Danish standard, he cut down two succes- sive bearers of it with his battle-axe. Two Danish leaders^ Carolns and Conmael, enraged at this success, rushed on him together, but both fell in rapid succession by his sword. Twice, Morrogh and some of his chiefs retired to slake their thirst and cool their hands, swollen from the violent use of the sword; and the Danes observing the vigour with which they returned to the conflict, succeeded, by a desperate effort, in cutting off the brook which had refreshed them. Thus the battle raged from an early hour in the morning — innumerable deeds of valour being performed on both sides, and victory appearing still doubt- ful, until the third or fourth hour in the afternoon, when a fresh and desperate effort was made by the Irish, and the Danes, now almost destitute of leaders, began to waver and give way at every point. Just at this moment the Norwegian prince, Anrud, encountered Morrogh, who was unable to raise his arms from fatigue, but w^ith the left hand he seized Anrud and hurled him to the earth, and with the other placed the point of his sword on the breast of the prostrate Northman, and leaning on it plunged it through his body. While stooping, however, for this pur- pose, Anrud contrived to inflict on him a mortal wound with a dagger, and Morrogh fell in the arms of victory. According to other a>ocounts, Morrogh was in the act of THE STORT OF IRELANl*. 99 stooping to relieve an enemy when he received from him his death wound. This disaster had not the effect of turn- ing the fortune of the day, for the Danes and their allies were in a state of utter disorder, and along their whole line had commenced to fly towards the city or to their ships. They plunged into the Tolka at a time, we may conclude, when the river was swollen with the tide, so that great numbers were drowned. The body of young Tur- logh was found after the battle ^at the weir of Clontarf , with his hands entangled in the hair of a Dane whom he had grappled with in the pursuit. But the chief tragedy of the day remains to be related. Brodar, the pirate admiral, who commanded in the point of the Danish lines remotest from the city, seeing the route general, was making his way through some thickets with only a few attendants, when he came upon the tent of Brian Borumha, left at that moment without his guards. The fierce Norseman rushed in and found the aged monarch at prayer before the crucifix, which he had that morning held up to the view of his troops, and attended only by his page. Yet, Brian had time to seize his arms, and died sword in hand. The Irish accounts say that the king killed Brodar, and was only overcome by numbers; but the Danish version in the Niala Saga is more probable, and in this Brodar is represented as holding up his reeking sword, and crying : ^ Let it be proclaimed from man to man that Brian has been slain by Brodar'. It is added, on the same authority, that the ferocious pirate was then hem- med in by Brian's returned guards and captured alive, and that he was hung from a tree, and continued to rage like a beast of prey until all his entrails were torn out— the Irish soldiers thus taking savage vengeance for the death of their king, who but for their own neglect would have been safe".* Such was the victory of Clontarf — one of the most glorious events in the annals of Ireland! It was the final effort of the Danish power to effect the conquest of this • Havei-ty. 100 THE STORY OF IRELAND. country. Never again was that effort renewed. For a century subsequently the Danes continued to hold some maritime cities in Ireland ; but never more did they dream of conquest. That design was overthrown for ever on the bloody plain of Clontarf. It was, as the historian called it truly, "a conflict of heroes". There was no flinching on either side, and on each side fell nearly every commander of note who had entered the battle ! The list of the dead is a roll of nobi- lity, Danish and Irish ; amongst the dead being the brave Caledonian chiefs, the great Stewards of Mar and Lennox, who had come from distant Alba to fight on the Irish side that day! But direst disaster of all — most woful in its ulterior results affecting the fate and fortunes of Ireland — was the slaughter of the reigning family: Brian himself, Morrogh, his eldest son and destined successor, and his grandson, "the youthful Torlagh", eldest child of Morrogh — three generations cut down in the one day upon the same field of battle I "The fame of the event went out through all nations. The chronicles of Wales, of Scotland, and of Man; the annals of Ademar and Marianus;* the sagas of Denmark and the Isles, all record the event. The Norse settlers in Caithness saw terrific visions of Valhalla Hhe day after the battle' ".f " The annals state that Brian and Morrogh both lived to receive the last sacraments of the Church, and that their remains were conveyed by the monks to Swords (near Dublin), and thence to Armagh by the Arch- bishop ; and that their obsequies were celebrated for twelve days and nights with great splendour by the clergy of Armagh ; after which the body of Brian was deposited in a stone coffin on the north side of the high altar in the cathedral, the body of his son being interred on the south side of the same church. The remains of Torlogh and * "Brian, king of Hibernia, slain on Good Friday, the 9th of the calends of May (23rd April), with his mind and his hands turned towards God" — Chronicles of Marianus Scotus, t M'Gee. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 101 of several of the other chieftains were buried in the old churchyard of Kilmainham, where the shaft of an Irish cross still marks the spot".* XIV. — AFTER THE BATTIiE". THE SCENE "UPON OSSORY's plain". THE LAST DAYS OF NATIONAL FREEDOM. HKEE days after the battle the decimated but victory-crowned Irish legions broke up camp and marched homewards to their respective provinces, chanting songs of triumph. The Dalcassians (who had suffered terribly in the battle) found their way barred by a hostile prince, Fitzpatrick, lord of Ossory, whose op- posing numbers vastly exceeded their effective force, which indeed was barely enough to convey or con- voy their wounded homeward to Kincora. In this ex- tremity the wounded soldiers entreated that they might be allowed to fight with the rest. *^Let stakes", they said, *^be driven into the ground, and suffer each of us, tied to and supported hy one of these stakes, to be placed in his rank by the side of a sound man". Between seven and eight hundred wounded men", adds the his- torian, "pale, emaciated, and supported in this manner, appeared mixed with the foremost of the troops ! Never was such another sight exhibited !"-j- Keating's quaint narrative of the event is well worthy of quotation. He says : " Donogh then again gave orders that one-third of his host should be placed on guard as a protection for the wounded, and that the other two-thirds should meet the expected battle. But when the wounded men heard of these orders, they sprung up in such haste that their wounds and sores burst open; but they bound them up in • Haverty. t O'Halloran. 102 THE STORY OF IRELAND. moss, and grasping their lances and their swords, they came thus equipped into the midst of their comrades. Here they requested of Donncadh, son of Brian, to send some men to the forest with instructions to bring them a number of strong stakes, whfch they proposed to have thrust into the ground, ' and to these stakes', said they, 'let us be bound with our arms in our hands, and let our sons and our kinsmen be stationed by our side? ; and let two warriors, who are unwounded, be placed near each one of us wounded, for it is thus that we will help one another with truer zeal, because shame will not allow the sound man to leave his position until his wounded and bound comrade can leave it likewise'. This request was complied with, and the wounded men were stationed after the manner which they had pointed out. And, indeed, that array in which the Dal g-Cais were then drawn, was a thing for the mind to dwell upon in admiration, for it was a great and amazing wonder". Our national minstrel, Moore, has alluded to this episode of the return of the Dalcassians in one of the melodies • Remember our wounded companions, who stood In the day of distress by our side: When 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 its light Saw them fall upon Ossory's jDlain: Oh! let him not blush, when he leaves us to-night, To find that they fell there in vain! With the victory of Clontarf the day of Ireland's unity and power as a nation may be said to have ended. The sun of her national greatness, that had been waning pre- viously, set suddenly in a brilliant flash of glory. If we except the eight years immediately following Brian's death, Ireland never more knew the blessing of national unity — never more was a kingdom, in the full sense of the word. Malachy Mor — well worthy of his title *Hhe great" — the good, the magnanimous, the patriotic, and brave king, whom Brian had deposed, was unanimously recalled to the throne after Brian's death. The eight years during which Malachy ruled in this the second term THE STORY OF IIlELAND. 103 of his sovereignty, were marked by every evidence of kingly ability and virtue on his part. At length, finding death approaching, he retired for greater solitude to an island in Lough Ennel (now called Cormorant Island), whither repaired sorrowfully to his spiritual succour "Amalgaid, Archbishop of Armagh, the abbots of Clon- macnoise and of Durrow, and a good train of clergy"; and where, as the old chronicles relate it, after intense penance, on the fourth of the nones of September, died Malachy, the pillar of the dignity and nobility of the western world". He was the last " unquestioned" monarch of Ireland. The interval between his death and the landing of Henry the Second (over one hundred and fifty years) was a period of bloody and ruinous contention, that invited — and I had almost said merited — the yoke of a foreign rule. After Malachy's death, Brian's younger son, Donogh, claimed the throne ; but his claim was scorned and repu- diated by a moiety of the princes, who had, indeed, always regarded Brian himself as little better than an usurper, though a brave and a heroic sovereign. Never afterwards was an Ard-Ri fully and lawfully elected or acknowledged. There were frequently two or more claimants assuming the title at the same time, and desolating the country in their contest for sovereignty. Brian had broken the charmed line of regulated succession, that had, as I have already detailed, lasted through nearly two thousand years. His act was the final blow at the already loosened and totter- ing edifice of centralized national authority. While he himself lived, with his own strong hand and powerful mind to keep all things in order, it was well; no evil was likely to come of the act that supplied a new ground for wasting discords and bloody civil strife. But when the powerful hand and the strong mind had passed away; when the splendid talents that had made even the deposed monarch, Malachy, bow to their supremacy, no longer availed to bind the kingdom into unity and strength, the miseries that ensued were hopeless* The political disinte- gration of Ireland was aggravated a thousand-fold. The idea of national unity seemed as completely dead, buried, 104 THE STOTIY OF TRELAND, and forgotten, when the Normans came in, as if it never had existence amongst the faction-split people of Erinn. *T was self-abasement paved the way For viQain bonds and despot's sway. Donogh O'Brien, never acknowledged as Ard-Ri, was driven from even his titular sovereignty by his own nephew, Torlogh. Aged, broken, and weary, he sailed for Home, where he entered a monastery and ended his life in penance", as the old chronicles say. It is stated that this Donogh took with him to Eome the crown and the harp of his father, the illustrious Brian, and presented them to the Pope.* This donation of his father's diadem to the Pope by Donogh has sometimes been referred to as if it implied a bestowal of the Irish sovereignty ; a placing of it, as it were, at the disposal of the Father of Chris- tendom, for the best interests of faction-ruined Ireland herself, and for the benefit of the Christian religion. Per- haps the Pope was led so to regard it. But the Supreme Pontiff did not know that such a gift was not Donogh's to give ! Donogh never owned or possessed the Irish sove- reignty ; and even if he had been unanimously elected and acknowledged Ard-Ri (and he never was), the Irish sove- reignty was a trust to which the Ard-Ri was elected for life, and which he could not donate even to his own son, except by the consent of the Royal Electors and Free Clans of Erinn. * The harp is still in existence. It is in the Muieum of Trinity College, Dublin. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 105 XV, — HOW ENGLAND BECAME A COMPACT KINGDOM, WHILE IRELAND WAS BREAKING INTO FRAGMENTS. E now approach the period at which, for the first time, the history of Ireland needs to be read with that of England. A quarter of a century after the rout of the Danes by the Irish at Clontarf, the Anglo- Saxons drove them from the English throne, the Anglo-Saxon line being restored in the person of Edward the Confessor. A quarter of a century subsequently, however, the Anglo-Saxons were again dethroned, and England was again conquered by new invaders — or the old ones with a new name — the Normans. In this last struggle, the Anglo-Saxons were aided by troops from Ireland ; for the Normans were kith and kin of the Norse foes whom Ireland had such reason to hate. An Irish contingent fought side by side with the Saxons in their struggle against William ; and when the brave but unfortunate Harold fell at Hastings, it was to Ireland his children were sent for friendly asylum. The Normans treasured a bitter remembrance of this against Ireland ; and there is evidence that from the first they meant to essay the subjugation of that island also, as soon as they should have consolidated their British con- quest. These same Normans were a brave race. They possessed every quality requisite for military conquerors. To the rough fierce vigour of their Norse ancestors they had added the military discipline and scientific skill which the Gauls bad learned from their Koman masters. They conquered united England in one year. Yet they were five hundred years unsuccessfully labouring to conquer dis- united Ireland I During the one hundred and fifty years following Brian's death (devoted by the Irish princes to every factious folly and crime that could weaken, disorganize, disunite, and demoralise their country), the Normans in England were solidifying and strengthening their power. England was 106 THE STORY OP IRELAND, becoming a compact nation, governed by concentrated national authority, and possessed of a military organiza- tion formidable in numbers and in arms, but most of all in scientific mode of warfare and perfection of military discipline; while Ireland, like a noble vessel amid the breakers, was absolutely going to pieces — breaking up into fragments, or clans", north, south, east, and west. As a natural result of this anarchy or wasting strife of factions, social and religious disorders supervened; and as a historian aptly remarks, the "Island of Saints" became an "Island of Sinners". The state of religion was de- plorable. The rules of ecclesiastical discipline were in many places overthrown, as was nearly every other neces- sary moral and social safeguard; and, inevitably, the most lamentable disorders and scandals resulted. The bishops vainly sought to calm this fearful war of factions that was thus ruining the power of a great nation, and destroying or disgracing its Christian faith. They threatened to appeal to the Supreme Pontiff, and to invoke his inter- position in behalf of religion thus outraged, and civil society thus desolated. St. Malachy, the primate of Armagh, the fame of whose sanctity, piety, and learning had reached all Europe, laboured heroically amidst these terrible afflictions. He proceeded to Rome, and was re- ceived with every mark of consideration by the reigning Pope, Innocent the Second, who, " descending from his throne, placed his own mitre on the head of the Irish saint, presented him with his own vestments and other religious gifts, and appointed him apostolic legate in the place of Gilbert, bishop of Limerick, then a very old man". St. Malachy petitioned the Pope for the necessary recognition of the Irish archiepis copal sees, by the sending of the palliums to the archbishops; but the Pope pointed out that so grave a request should proceed from a synod of the Irish Church. The primate returned to Ireland; and after some time devoted to still more energetic measures to cope with the difficulties created by perpetual civil war, he eventually convened a national synod, which was held at Innis-Patrick, near Skerries, county Dublin. St. Malachy was authorised again to proceed to the Holy THE STORY OF IRELAND. 107 Father, and in the name of the Irish Church beseech him to grant the palliums. The aged primate set out on his journey. But while on his way, having reached Clairvaux, he was seized with his death-sickness, and expired there (2nd November, 1148), attended by the great St. Bernard, between whom and the Irish primate a personal friendshij existed, and a correspondence passed, portion of which is still extant. Three years afterwards the palliums, sent by Pope Eugene the Third, were brought to Ireland by Car- dinal Paparo, and were solemnly conferred on the arch- bishops the year following, at a national synod held at Kells. But all the efforts of the ministers of religion could not compensate for the want of a stable civil government in the land. Nothing could permanently restrain the fierce violence of the chiefs ; and it is clear that at Eome, and throughout Europe, the opinion at this time began to gain ground that Ireland was a hopeless case. And, indeed, so it must have seemed. It is true that the innate virtue and morality of the Irish national character began to assert itself the moment society was allowed to enjoy the least respite : it is beyond question that, during and after the time of the sainted primate, Malachy, vigorous and com- prehensive efforts were afoot, and great strides made, towards reforming the abuses with which chronic civil war had covered the land. But, like many another re- formation, it came too late. Before the ruined nation could be reconstituted, the Nemesis of invasion arrived, to teach all peoples, by the story of Ireland's fate, that when national cohesiveness is gone, national power has departed and national suffering is at hand. 108 THE STORY OF IRELAND. XVI. HOW HENRY THE SECOND FEIGNED WONDROUS ANXIETl TO HEAL THE DISORDERS OF IRELAND. HE grandson of William of Normandy, Con- queror of England, Henry the Second, was not an inattentive observer of the progressing wreck of the Irish Church and Nation. He inherited the Norman design of one day conquering Ire- land also, and adding that kingdom to his English crown. . He was not ignorant that at Eome Ireland was regarded as derelict. An Englishman, Pope Adrian, now sat in the Chair of Peter ; and the English ecclesiastical authorities, who were in constant communication with the Holy See, were trans- mitting the most alarming accounts of the fearful state of Ireland. It is now known that these accounts were, in many cases, monstrously exaggerated ; but it is true .that, at best, the state of affairs was very bad. The cunning and politic Henry saw his opportunity. Though his was the heart of a mere conqueror, sordid and callous, he clothed himself in the garb of the most saintly piety, and wrote to the Holy Father, calling attention to the state of Ireland, which for over a hundred years had been a scandal to Europe. But oh ! it was the state of religion there that most afflicted his pious and holy Norman heart ! It was all in the interests of social order, morality, religion, and civilization,* that he now approached 1?he Holy Father with a proposition. In those times (when Christendom was an unbroken family, of which the Pope was the head), the Supreme Pontiff was, by the voice of the nations themselves, invested with a certain kind of arbitrative civil authority for the general good. And, indeed, even infidel and non-Catholic historians declare to us that, on the whole, and with scarcely a possible ex- * Even in that day — seven hundred years ago — English subju- gators had learned the use of these amiable pretexts for invasion and annexation! THE STORY OF IRELAND. 109 ception, the Popes exerted the authority thus vested in them with a pure, unselfish, and exalted anxiety for the general public good and the ends of justice, for the ad- vancement of religion, learning, civilization, and civil freedom. But this authority rested merely on the principle by which the Acadian farmers in Longfellow's poem con- stituted their venerable pastor supreme lawgiver, arbi- trator, and regulator in their little community ; a practice which, even in our own day, prevails within the realms of fact here in Ireland and in other countries. Henry's proposition to the Pope was that he, the Eng- lish king, should, with the sanction of the Holy Father, and (of course) purely in the interests of religion, morality, and social order, enter Ireland and restore order in that region of anarchy. He pleaded that the Pope was hound to cause some such step to be taken, and altogether urged numerous grounds for persuading the Pontiff to credit his professions as to his motives and designs. Pope Adrian is said to have complied by issuing a bull approving of Henry's scheme as presented to htm, and with the purposes and on the conditions therein set forth. There is no such bull now to be found in the Papal archives, yet it is credited that some such bull was issued; but its contents, terms, and permissions have been absurdly misrepresented and exaggerated in some versions coined by English writers. The Papal bull or letter once issued, Henry had gained his point. He stored away the document until his other plans should be ripe ; and, meanwhile, having no longer any need of feigning great piety and love for religion, he flung off the mask and entered upon that course of con- duct which, culminating in the murder of St. Thomas A'Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, drew down upon him the excommunication of Kome. Meantime events were transpiring in Ireland destined to afford him a splendid opportunity for practically availing of his fraudulently obtained Papal letter, and making a commencement in his scheme of Irish conquest. 110 THE STORY OF IRELAND. XVII. THE TREASON OF DIARMID M^MURROGH. y^^f^ BOUT the year 1152, in the course of the in- * terminable civil war desolating Ireland, a feud ' of peculiar bitterness arose between Tiernan O'Kuarc, prince of Brefni, and Diarmid M^Mur- rogh, prince of Leinster. While one of the /J^/^f^ Ard-Kighana favourable to the latter was for the moment uppermost, O'Ruarc had been dis- ^ possessed of his territory, its lordship being nanded over to M^Murrogh. To this was added a wrong still more dire. Devorgilla, the wife of O'Euarc, eloped with M^Murrogh, already her husband's most bitter rival and foe ! Her father and her husband both appealed to Torlogh O'Connor for justice upon the guilty prince of Leinster. O'Connor, although M^Murrogh had been one of his supporters, at once acceded to this request. M^Mur- rogh soon found his territory surrounded, and Devorgilla was restored to her husband. She did not however return to domestic life, Eecent researches amongst the ancient ^' Manuscript Materials for Irish History", by 0' Curry and O'Donovan, throw much light upon this episode, and considerably alter the long prevailing popular impressions in reference thereto. Whatever the measure of Devor- gilla's fault in elopmg with M'Murrogh — and the re- searches alluded to bring to light many circumstances in- voking for her more of commiseration than of angry scorn — her whole life subsequently to this sad event, and she lived for forty years afterwards, was one prolonged act of contrition and of penitential reparation for •the scandal she had given. As I have already said, she did not return to the home she had abandoned. She entered a religious retreat; and thenceforth, while living a life of practical piety, penance, and mortification, de- voted the immense dower which she possessed in her own right, to works of charity, relieving the poor, building hospitals, asylums, convents, and churches. Thirteen years after this event, Roderick O'Connor, son and successor of the king who had forced M^Murrogh to THE STORY OF IRELAND. Ill yield up the unhappy Devorgilla, claimed the throne of the kingdom. Eoderick was a devoted friend of O'Ruarc, and entertained no very warm feelings towards M'Miir- rogh. The king claimant marched on his " circuit", claiming '^hostages" from the local princes as recognition of sovereignty, M'Murrogh, who hated Roderick with intense violence, burned his city of Ferns, and retired to his Wicklow fastnesses, rather than yield allegiance to him. Roderick could not just then delay on his circuit to follow him up, but passed on southward, took up his hostages there, and then returned to settle accounts with M^Murrogh, But by this time O'Ruarc, apparently only too glad to have such a pretext and opportunity for a stroke at his mortal foe, had assembled a powerful army and marched upon M^Murrogh from the north, while Roderick approached him from the south. Diarmid, thus surrounded, and deserted by most of his own people, outwitted and overmatched on all sides, saw that he was a ruined man. He abandoned the few followers yet re- maining to him, fled to the nearest seaport, and, with a heart bursting with the most deadly passions, sailed for England (a.d. 1168), vowing vengeance, black, bitter, and terrible, on all that he left behind I "A solemn sentence of banishment was publicly pro- nounced against him by the assembled princes, and Mor- rogh, his cousin — commonly called 'Morrogh na Gael\ (or ' of the Irish'), to distinguish him from ^ Morrogh na GalV (or *of the Foreigners') — was inaugurated in his 8tead".» Straightway he sought out the English king, who was just then in Aquitaine quelling a revolt of the nobles in that portion of his possessions. M'Murrogh laid before Henry a most piteous recital of his wrongs and grievances, appealed to him for justice and for aid, inviting him to enter Ireland, which he was sure most easily to reduce to his sway, and finally offering to become his most submis- sive vassal if his majesty would but aid him in recovering 112 THE STORY OF IRELAND. the possessions from which he had been expelled. " Henry", as one of our historians justly remarks, must have been forcibly struck by such an invitation to carry out a project which he had long entertained, and for which he had been making grave preparations long before". He was too busy himself, however, just then to enter upon the project ; but he gave M^Murrogh a royal letter or proclamation authorising such of his subjects as might so desire to aid the views of the Irish fugitive. Diarmid hurried back to England, and had all publicity given to this proclamation in his favour ; but though he made the most alluring offers of reward and booty, he was a long time before he found any one to espouse his cause. At length Kobert Fitz- stephen, a Norman relative of the prince of North Wales, just then held in prison by his Cambrian kinsman, was released or brought out of prison by M^Murrogh, on con- dition of undertaking his service. Through Fitzstephen there came into the enterprise several other knights, Maurice Fitzgerald, Meyler Fitzhenry, and others — all of them men of supreme daring, but of needy circumstances. Eventually there joined one who was destined to take command of them all. Kichard de Clare, earl of Pem- broke, commonly called " Strongbow"-, a man of ruined fortune, needy, greedy, unscrupulous, and ready for any desperate adventure,- possessing unquestionable military skill and reckless daring, and having a tolerably strong following of like adventurous spirits amongst the knights of the Welsh marches — in fine, just the man for Diarmid's purpose. The terms were soon settled. Strongbow and his companions undertook to raise a force of adventurers, proceed to Ireland with M^Murrogh, and reinstate him in his principality. M^Murrogh was to bestow on Strongbow (then a widower between fifty and sixty years of age) his daughter Eva in marriage, with succession to the throne of Leinster. Large grants of lan(i also were to be dis- tributed amongst the adventurers. Now, Diarmid knew that " succession to the throne" was not a matter which any king in Ireland, whether provincial or national, at any time could bestow ; the monarchy being elective out of the members of the reigning family. Even THE STORY OF IRELAND, 113 if he was himself at the time in full legal possession of " the throne of Leinster", he could not promise, secure, or bequeath it, as of right, even to his own son. In the next place, Diarmid knew that his offers of "grants of land" struck directly and utterly at the existing land system, the basis of all society in Ireland. For, ac- cording to the Irish constitution and laws for a thousand years, the fee-simple or ownership of the soil was vested in the sept, tribe, or clan ; its use or occupancy (by the individual members of the sept or others) being only re- gulated on behalf of and in the interest of the whole sept, by the elected king for the time being. Tribe land" could not be alienated unless by the king, with the sanc- tion of the sept. The users and occupiers were, so to speak, a cooperative society of agriculturicts, who, as a body or a community, owned the soil they tilled, while individually renting it from that body or community under its administrative official — the king. While Strongbow and his confederates were completing their arrangements in Chester, M^Murrogh crossed over to his native Wexford privately to prepare the way there for their reception. It would seem that no whisper had reached Ireland of his movements, designs, proclamations, and preparations on the other side of the channel. The wolf assumed the sheep's clothing. M^Murrogh feigned great humility and contrition, and pretended to aspire only to the recovery, by grace and faronr, of his immediate patrimony of Hy-Kinsella. Amongst his own immediate clansmen, no doubt, he found a friendly meeting and a ready following, and, more generally, a feeling somewhat of commiseration for one deemed to be now so fallen, so helpless, so humiliated. This secured him from very close observation, and greatly favoured the preparations he was stealthily making to meet the Norman expedition with stout help on the shore. 8 114 THE STORY OP inELAKW. XVIII. — now THE NORMAN ADVENTURERS GOT A FOOTHOLD ON IRISH SOIL. t^^o^HE fatal hour was now at hand. Early in the month of May , a small flotilla of strange vessels ran into a little creek on the Wexford coast, near Bannow, and disembarked an armed force upon the shore. This was th^ advanced guard of the Norman! invasion; a party of thirty* knights, sixty men in armour, and three hundred foot- men, under Robert Fitzstephen. Next day at the same point of disembarkation arrived Maurice de Prendergast, a Welsh gentleman who had joined the enterprise, bring- ing with him an additional force. Camping on the coast, they quickly despatched a courier to M^Morrogh to say that they had come. Diarmid hastened to the spot with all the men he could rally. The joint force at once le THE STORY OF IRELAND. 115 marched upon and laid siege to Wexford, which town, after a gallant defence, capitulated to them. Elate with this important victory, and strengthened in numbers, Diar- mid now marched into Ossory. Here he was confronted by Fitzpatrick, prince of Ossory, commanding, however, a force quite inferior to M^Murrogh's. A sanguinary en- gagement ensued. The Ossorians bravely held their own throughout the day, until decoyed from their chosen posi- tion into an open ground where the Norman cavalry had full play, the poise of the beam" was turned against them; they were thrown into confusion, pressed by the enemy, and at length overthrown with great slaughter. Roderick the Second, titular Ard-Ri, now awakened to the necessity of interposing with the national forces ; not as against an invasion; for at this period, and indeed for some time afterwards, none of the Irish princes attached such a character or meaning to the circumstance that M^Murrogh had enlisted into his service some men of England. It was to check M^Murrogh, the deposed king of Leinster, in his hostile proceedings, that the Ard-Ri summoned the national forces to meet him at the Hill of Tara. The provincial princes, with their respective forces, assembled at his call; but had scarcely done so, when, owing to some contention, the northern contingent, under Mac Dunlevy, prince of Ulidia, withdrew. With the remainder, however, Roderick marched upon Ferns, the Lagenian capital, where M^Murrogh had entrenched him- self. Roderick appears to have exhibited weakness and vaccillation in the crisis, when boldness, promptitude, and vigour were so vitally requisite. He began to parley and diplomatise with M^Murrogh, who cunningly feigned wil- lingness to agree to any terms ; for all he secretly desired was to gain time till Strongbow and the full force from Wales would be at his side. M'Murrogh, with much show of moderation and humility, agreed to a treaty with the Ard-Ri, by which the sovereignty of Leinster was restored to him ; and he, on the other hand, solemnly bound him- self by a secret clause, guaranteed by his own son as liostage, that he would bring over no more foreigners to serve in his army. M6 THE STORY OF IRELAND. No suspicion of any such scheme as an invasion seems even for an instant to have crossed the monarch's mind; yet he wisely saw the danger of importing a foreign force into the country. He and the other princes really be- lieved that the only object M'Murrogh had was to regain the sovereignty of Leinster. The crafty and perfidious Diarmid in this treaty gained the object he sought — time. Scarcely had Roderick and the national forces retired, than the Leinster king, hearing that a further Norman contingent, under Maurice Fitzgerald, had landed at Wexford, marched upon Dublin — then held by the Danes under their prince Hasculf Mac Turkill, tributary to the Irish Ard-Ei — and set up a claim to the monarchy of Ireland. The struggle was now fully inau- gurated. Soon after a third Norman force, imder Ray- mond le Gros (or *HheFat"), landed in Waterford estuary, on the Wexford side, and hastily fortified themselves on the rock of Dundonolf, awaiting the main force under Strongbow. And now we encounter the evil and terrible results of the riven and disorganized state of Ireland, to which I have already sufficiently adverted. The hour at last had come, when the curse was to work, when the punishment was to fall I It was at such a moment as this — ^just as Roderick was again preparing to take the field to crush the more fully developed designs of Diarmid — that Donogh O'Brien, Prince of Thomond, chose to throw off allegiance to the Ard-Ri, and precipitate a civil war in the very face of a foreign invasion ! Meanwhile, Strongbow was on the point of embarking at Milford Haven with a most formidable force, when king Henry, much mistrusting the adventurous and powerful knight— and having, secretly, his own de- signs about Ireland, which he feared the ambition of Strongbow, if successful, might thwart — imperatively for- bade his sailing. Strongbow disregarded the royal mandate, and set sail with his fleet. He landed at Waterford (23rd August, 1171), and joined by the force of Raymond, which had been cooped up in their fort on the rock of Dundonolf, laid siege to the city. Waterford, like Dublin, was a Dano • THE STORY OF IRELAND. 117 Irish city, and was governed and commanded by Reginald, a prince of Danish race. The neighbouring Irish under O'Felan, prince of the Deisi, patriotically hurried to the assistance of the Danish citizens ; jand the city was de- fended with a heroism equal to that of the three hundred at Thermopylae. Again and again the assailants were hurled from the walls ; but at length the Norman sieging skill prevailed; a breach was effected; the enemy poured into the town, and a scene of butchery shocking to con- template ensued. Diarmid arrived just in time to con- gratulate Strongbow on this important victory. He had brought his daughter Eva with him, and amidst the smoking and bloodstained ruins of the city the nuptials of the Norman knight and the Irish princess were celebrated. Strongbow and M^Murrogh now marched for Dublin. The Ard-Ei, who had meantime taken the field, made an effort to intercept them, but he was out-manoeuvred, and they reached and commenced to siege the city. The citizens sought a parley. The fate of Waterford had struck terror into them. They despatched to the be- siegers' camp as negotiator or mediator, their archbishop, Laurence, or Lorcan O'Tuahal, the first prelate of Dublin of Irish origin. " This illustrious man, canonized both by sanctity and patriotism, was then in the thij-ty-ninth year of his age, and the ninth of his episcopate. His father was lord of Imayle and chief of his clan ; his sister had been wife of Dermid and mother of Eva, the prize bride of Earl Richard. He himself had been a hostage with Dermid in his youth, and afterwards abbot of Glendalough, the most celebrated monastic city of Leinster. He stood, therefore, to the besieged, being their chief pastor, in the relation of a father; to Dermid, and strangely enough to Strongbow also, as brother-in-law and uncle by marriage. A fitter ambassador could not be found. ^* Maurice Began, the ^ Latiner', or secretary of Dermid, had advanced to the walls and summoned the city to sur- render, and deliver up ^ thirty pledges' to his master their lawful prince. Asculph, son of Torcall, was in favour of the surrender, but the citizens could not agree among 118 THE STORY OF IRELAND. themselves as to hostages. No one was willing to trust himself to the notoriously untrustworthy Dermid. The Archbishop was then sent out on the part of the citizens to arrange the terms in detail. He was received with all reverence in the camp, but while he was deliberating with the commanders without, and the townsmen were anxiously awaiting his return, Milo de Cogan and Kaymond the Fat, seizing the opportunity, broke into the city at the head of their companies, and began to put the inhabitants ruth- lessly to the sword. They were soon followed by the whole force eager for massacre and pillage. The Archbishop hastened back to endeavour to stay the havoc which was being made of his people. He threw himself before the infuriated Irish and Normans, he threatened, he denounced, he bared his own breast to the swords of the assassins. All to little purpose: the blood fury exhausted itself before peace settled over the city* Its Danish chief Asculpli, with many of his followers, escaped to their ships, and fled to the Isle of Man and the Hebrides in search of succour and revenge. Roderick, unprepared to besiege the enemy who had thus outmarched and outwitted him, at that season of the year — it could not be earlier than October — broke up his encampment at Clondalkin and retired to Connaught. Earl Richard having appointed De Cogan his governor of Dublin, followed on the rear of the retreat- ing Ard-Righ, at the instigation of M'Murrogh, burning and plundering the churches of Kells, Clonard, and Slane, and carrying off the hostages of East-Meath".* Roderick, having first vainly noticed M'Murrogh to re- turn to his allegiance on forfeit of the life of his hostage, beheaded the son of Diarmid, who had been given as surety for his father's good faith at the treaty of Ferns, Soon after M^Murrogh himself died, and his end, as re- corded in the chronicles, was truly horrible. His death, which took place in less than a year after his sacrilegious church burnings in Meath, is described as being accom- panied by fearful evidence of divine displeasure. He died ♦ M*Gee. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 119 intestate, and without the sacraments of the Church. His disease was of some unknown and loathsome kind, and was attended with insufferable pain, which, acting on the naturally savage violence of his temper, rendered him so furious, that his ordinary attendants must have been afraid to approach him, and his body became at once a putrid mass, so that its presence above ground could not be en- dured. Some historians suggest that this account of his death may have been the invention of enemies, yet it is so consistent with what we know of M'Murrogh's character and career from other sources, as to be noways incredible. He was at his death eighty-one years of age, and is known in Irish history as Diarmaid-na-Gall, or Dermot of the Foreigners". An incident well calculated to win our admiration pre- sents itself, in the midst of the dismal chapter I have just sketched in outline ; an instance of chivalrous honour and good faith on the part of a Norman lord in behalf of an Irish chieftain I Maurice de Prendergast was deputed by Earl Strongbow" as envoy to Mac Gilla Patrick, prince of Ossory, charged to invite him to a conference in the Norman eamp.^ Prendergast undertook to prevail upon the Ossorian prince to comply, on receiving from Strongbow a solemn pledge that good faith would be observed to- wards the Irish chief, and that he should be free and safe coming and returning. Relying on this pledge, Prender- gast bore the invitation to Mac Gilla Patrick, and pre- vailed upon him to accompany him to the earl. " Under- standing, however, during the conference", says the his- torian, that treachery was about to be used towards Mac Gilla Patrick, he rushed into Earl Strongbow's pre- sence, and * sware by the cross of his sword that no man there that day should dare lay handes on the kyng of Os- sery' And well kept he his word. Out of the camp, when the Qonference ended, rode the Irish chief, and by his side, good sword in hand, that glorious type of honour and chivalry, Prendergast, ever since named in Irish tra-* dition and history as " the Faithful Norman" — " faithful among the faithless" we might truly say ! Scrupulously did he rodeem his word to the Irish prince. He not only 120 THE STORY OF IRELAND. conducted him safely back to his own camp, but, encoun- tering on the way a force belonging to Strongbow's ally, O'Brien, returning from a foray into Ossory, he attacked and defeated them. That night " the Faithful Norman" remained, as the old chronicler has it, in the woods", the guest of the Irish chief, and next day returned to the English lines. This truly pleasing episode — this little oasis of chivalrous honour in the midst of a trackless ex- panse of treacherous and ruthless warfare, has been made the subject of a short poem by Mr. Aubrey De Vere, in his Lyrical Chronicle of Ireland: THE FAITHFUL NORMAN. Praise to the valiant and faithful foe! Give us noble foes, not the friend who lies! We dread the drugged cup, not the open blow: We dread the old hate in the new disguise. To Ossory's king they had pledged their word: He stood in their camp, and their pledge they broke; Then Maurice the Norman upraised his sword ; The cross on its hilt he kiss'd, and spoke: ** So long as this sword or this arm hath might, I swear by the cross which is lord of all, By the faith and honour of noble and knight, Who touches you, Prince, by this hand shall fall!" So side by side through the throng they pass'd; And Eire gave praise to the just and true. Brave foe! the past truth heals at last: There is room in the great heart of Eire for youl It is nigh seven hundred years since " the faithful Norman" linked the name of Prendergast to honour and chivalry on Irish soil. Those who have read that truly remarkable work, Prendorgast's Gromwellian Settlement of Ireland^ will conclude that the spirit of Maurice is still to bo found amongst some of those who bear his name. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 123 XIX. HOW HENRY RECALLED THE ADVENTURERS. HOW HE CAME OVER HIMSELF TO PUNISH THEM AND BEFRIEND THE IRISH. ^ TRONGBOW having now assumed the sove- ^^^^^ reignty of Leinster, king Henry's jealousy burst v^^^^ into a flame. He issued a proclamation order- ^S^^P ing Strongbow and every other Englishman in ^^^^ Ireland to return forthwith to England on pain ^^^^^ of outlawry ! Strongbow hurriedly despatched '^f^^ ambassador after ambassador to soothe Henry's anger ; but all was vain. At length he hastened to England himself, and found the English sovereign as- sembling an enormous fleet and army with the intent of himself invading Ireland ! The crafty knight humiliated himself to the utmost ; yet it was with great difficulty the king was induced even to grant him audience. When he did, Strongbow, partly by his own most abject protesta- tions of submission, and partly by the aid of mediators, received the royal pardon for his contumacy, and was con- firmed in his grants of land in Wexford. Early in October, 1171, Henry sailed with his armada of over four hundred ships, with a powerful army; and on the 18th of that month landed at Crooch, in Waterford harbour. In his train came the flower of the Norman knights, captains, and commanders ; and even in the day of Ireland's greatest unity and strength she would have found it difficult to cope with the force which the English king now led into the land. Coming in such kingly power, and with all the pomp and pageantry with which he was particularly careful to surround himself — studiously polished, politic, plausible, dignified, and courtierlike towards such of the Irish princes as came within his presence — proclaiming himself by word and act, angry with the lawless and ruthless proceedings of Strongbow, Eaymond, Fitzstephen, and Fitzgerald — ■ Henry seems to have appeared to the Irish of the neigh- bourhood something like an illustrious deliverer ! They had full and public knowledge of his strong proclamation 124 THE STOKY OF IRELAND. against Strongbow and his companions, calling upon all the Norman auxiliaries of Dermot to return forthwith to England 07i pain of outlawry. On every occasion subse- quent to his landing Henry manifested a like feeling and purpose; so much so that the Irish of Wexford, who had taken Fitzstephen prisoner, sent a deputation to deliver him up to be dealt with by Henry, and the king imprisoned him forthwith in Reginald's tower to await further sen- tence ! In fine, Henry pretended to come as an angry king to chastise his own contumacious subjects — the Norman auxiliaries of the Leinster prince — and to adjudicate upon the complicated issues which had arisen out of the treaties of that prince with them. This most smooth and plausible hypocrisy, kept up with admirable skill, threw the Irish utterly off their guard, and made them regard his visit as the reverse of hostile or undesirable. As I have already pointed out, the idea of national unity was practically defunct among the Irish at the time. For more than a hundred years it had been very much a game of every one for himself" (varied with every man against every- body else") with them. There was no stable or enduring national government or central authority in the land, since Brian's time. The nakedly hostile and sanguinary inva- sion of Strongbow they were all ready enough, in their disintegrated and ill-organized way, to confront and bravely resist to the death ; and had Henry on this occasion really appeared to them to come as an invader, they would have instantly encountered him sword in hand ; a truth most amply proven by the fact that when subsequently (but too late) they found out the real nature of the English designs, not all the power of united, compact, and mighty England was able, for hundreds and hundreds of years, to subdue the broken and weakened, deceived and betrayed, but still heroic Irish nation. Attracted by the fame of Henry's magnanimity, the splendour of his power, the (supposed) justice and friend- liness of his intentions, the local princes one by one arrived at his temporary court; where they were dazzled by the pomp, and caressed by the courtier affabilities, of the great English king. To several of them it seems very quickly THE STORY OF IRELAND. 125 to Lave occurred, that, considering the ruinously distracted and demoralised state of the country, and the absence of any strong central governmental authority able to- protect any one of them against the capricious lawlessness of his neighbours, the very best thing they could do — possibly for the interests of the whole country, certainly for their own particular personal or local interests — would be to consti- tute Henry a friendly arbitrator, regulator, and protector, on a much wider scale than (as they imagined) he intended. The wily Englishman only wanted the whisper of such a desirable pretext. It was just what he had been angling for. Yes ; he, the mighty and magnanimous, the just and friendly, English sovereign would accept the position. They should all, to this end, recognize him as a nominal liege lord; and then he, on the other hand, would under- take to regulate all their differences, tranquillize the island, and guarantee to each individual secure possession of his own territory ! Thus, by a smooth and plausible diplomacy, Henry found himself, with the consent or at the request of the southern Irish princes, in a position which he never could have attained, except through seas of blood, if he had allowed them to suspect that he came as a hostile invader, not as a neighbour and powerful friend. From Waterford he marched to Cashel, and from Cashel to Dublin, receiving on the way visits from the several local princes ; and now that the news spread that the mag- nanimous English king had consented to be their arbitrator, protector, and liege lord, every one of them that once visited Henry went away wheedled into adhesion to the scheme. Amongst the rest was Donald O'Brien, prince of Thomond, who the more readily gave in his adhesion to the new idea, for that he, as I have already mentioned of him, had thrown off allegiance to Eoderick, the titular Ard-Ri, and felt the necessity of protection by some one against the probable consequences of his conduct. Arrived at Dublin, Henry played the king on a still grander scale. A vast palace of wicker-work was erected* for his especial * On the spot where now stands the Protestant church of St. Andrew, St. Andrew Street, Dubhn- 126 THE STORY OF IRELAND. residence ; and here, during the winter, he kept up a con- tinued round of feasting, hospitality, pomp, and pageantry. Every effort was used to attract the Irish princes to the royal court, and once attracted thither, Henry made them the object of the most flattering attentions. They were made to feel painfully the contrast between the marked superiority in elegance, wealth, civilization — especially in new species of annour and weapons, and in new methods of war and military tactics — presented by the Norman- English, and the backwardness of their own country in each particular; a change wrought, as they well knew, altogether or mainly within the last hundred and fifty years! Where was the titular Ard-Ei all this time ? Away in his western home, sullen and perplexed, scarcely knowing what to think of this singular and unprecedented turn of affairs. Henry tried hard to persuade Roderick to visit him ; but neither Roderick nor any of the northern princes could be persuaded to an interriew with the English king. On the contrary, the Ard-Ri, when he heard that Henry was likely to come westward and visit him, instantly mus- tered an army and boldly took his stand at Athlone, re- solved to defend the integrity and independence of at least his own territory. Henry, however, disclaimed the idea of conflict; and, once again trusting more to smooth diplomacy than to the sword, despatched two ambassadors to the Irish titular monarch. The result was, according to some English versions of very doubtful and suspicious authority, that Roderick so far came in to the scheme of constituting Henry general suzeraine, as to agree to offer it no opposition on condition (readily acceded to by the ambassadors) that his own sovereignty, as, at least, next in supremacy to Henry, should be recognized. But there is no reliable proof that Roderick made any such conces- sion, conditional or unconditional ; and most Irish histo- rians reject the story. Having spent the Christmas in Dublin, and devoted the winter season to feasting and entertainment on a right royal scale, Henry now set about exercising his authority as general pacificator and regulator: and his first exercise THE STORY OF IRELAND. 127 of it was marked by that profound policy and sagacity wliicli seem to have guided all his acts since he landed. He began, not by openly aggrandising himself or his fol- lowers — that might have excited suspicion — but by evi- dencing a deep and earnest solicitude for the state of reli- gion in the eountry. This strengthened the opinion that estimated him as a noble, magnanimous, unselfish, and friendly protector, and it won for him the favour of the country. As his first exercise of general authority in the land, he convened a synod at Cashel; and at this synod, the decrees of which are known, measures were devised for the repression and correction of such abuses and irre- gularities in connection with religion as were known to exist in the country. Yet, strange to say, we find by the statutes and decrees of this synod nothing of a doctrinal nature requiring correction; nothing more serious calling for regulation than what is referred to in the following enactments then made: — 1. That the prohibition of marriage within the canonical degrees of consanguinity be enforced. 2. That children should be regularly catechised before the church door in each parish. 3. That children should be baptized in the public fonts of the parish churches. ^ 4. That regular tithes should be paid to the clergy rather than irregular donations from time to time. 5. That church lands should be exempt from the exac- tion of ^'livery", etc. 6. That the clergy should not be liable to any share of the eric or blood-fine, levied off the kindred of a man guilty of homicide. 7. A decree regulating wills. Such and no more were the reforms found to be neces- sary in the Irish Church under Henry's own eye, notwith- standing all the dreadful stories he had been hearing, and which he (not without addition by exaggeration) had been so carefully forwarding to Kome for years before ! Truth and candour, however, require the confession, that the reason why there was so little, comparatively, needing to be set right just then, wJis because there had been during, 128 THE STORY OP IRELAND. and ever since, St. Malachy's time vigorous efforts on the part of tlie Irish prelates, priests, princes, and people themselves, to restore and repair the ruins caused by long years of bloody convulsion. The synod over, Henry next turned his attention to civil affairs. He held a royal court at Lismore, whereat he made numerous civil appointments and regulations for the government of the territories and cities possessed by the Norman allies of the late prince of Leinster, or those surrendered by Irish princes to himself. While Henry was thus engaged in adroitly causing his authority to be gradually recognized, respected, and obeyed in the execution of peaceful, wise, and politic measures for the general tranquillity and welfare of the country — for, from the hour of his landing, he had not spilled one drop of Irish blood, nor harshly treated a native of Ireland — he suddenly found himself summoned to England by gathering troubles there. Papal commissioners had arrived in his realm of Normandy to investigate the murder of St. Thomas A'Becket, and threatening to lay England under an inter- dict, if Henry could not clear or purge himself of guilty part in that foul deed. There was nothing for it, but to hasten thither with all speed, abandoning for the time his Irish plans and schemes, but taking the best means he could to provide meantime for the retention of his power and authority in the realm of Ireland. I do not hesitate to express my opinion that, as the Normans had fastened at all upon Ireland, it was unfortu- nate that Henry was called away at this juncture. No one can for an instant rank side by side the naked and heartless rapacity and bloody ferocity of the Normans who preceded and who succeeded him in Ireland, with the moderation, the statesmanship, and the tolerance exhi- bited by Henry while remaining here. Much of this, doubtless, was policy on his part; but such a policy, though it might result in bringing the kingdom of Ire- land under the same crown with England many centu- ries sooner than it was so brought eventually by other means, would have spared our country centuries of slaugh- ter, persecution, and suffering unexampled in the annals THE STORY OF IRELAND. 129 the world. There are abundant grounds for presuming that Henry's views and designs originally were wise and comprehensive, and certainly the reverse of sanguinary. He meant simply to win the sovereignty of another king- dom ; but the spirit in which the Normans who remained and who came after him in Ireland acted was that of mere freebooters — rapacious and merciless plunderers — whose sole redeeming trait was their indomitable pluck and un- daunted bravery. XX, — HOW HENRY MADE A TREATY WITH THE IRISH KING — AND DID yOT KEEP IT. OON the Irish began to learn the difiPerence be- tween king Henry's friendly courtesies and mild adjudications, and the rough iron-shod rule of his needy, covetous, and lawless lieutenants. On all sides the Normans commenced to en- croach upon, outrage, and despoil the Irish, until, before three years had elapsed, Henry, found all he had won in Ireland lost, and the English power there apparently at the last extremity. A signal defeat which Strongbow encountered in one of his insolent forays, at the hands of O'Brien, prince of Tho- mond, was the signal for a general assault upon the Nor- mans. They were routed on all sides ; Strongbow him- self being chased into and cooped up with a few men in a fortified tower in Waterford. But this simultaneous out- break lacked the unity of direction, the reach of purpose, and the perseverance which would cause it to accomplish permanent rather than transitory results* The Irish gave no thought to the necessity of following np their victories ; and the Norman power, on the very point of extinction, was allowed slowly to recruit and extend itself again. Henry was sorely displeased to find affairs in Ireland in this condition ; but, of course, the versions which reached him laid all the blame on the Irish, and represented the 9 130 THE STORY OF IRELAND. Norman settlers as meek and peaceful colonists driven to defend themselves against treacherous savages. The Eng- lish monarch, unable to repair to Ireland himself, bethought him of the Papal letters, and resolved to try their influence on the Irish. He accordingly commissioned William Fitz- adelm De Burgo and Nicholas, the prior of Wallingford, to proceed with these documents to Ireland, and report to him on the true state of affairs there. These royal commissioners duly reached that country, and we are told that, having assembled the Irish prelates, the Papal letters were read. But no chronicle, English or Irish, tells us what was said by the Irish bishops on hearing them read. Very likely there were not wanting prelates to point out that the Pope had been utterly misinformed and kept in the dark as to the truth about Ireland ; and that so far the bulls were of no valid force as such : that as to the au- thority necessary to king Henry to effect the excellent designs he professed, it had already been pretty generally yielded to him for such purpose by the Irish princes them- selves without these letters at all : that,/<9r the purposes and on the conditions specified in the Papal letters, he was likely to receive every cooperation from the Irish princes ; but that it was quite another thing if he expected them to yield themselves up to be plundered and enslaved — that they would resist for ever and ever ; and if there was to be peace, morality, or religion in the land, it was his own Norman lords and governors he should recall or curb. Very much to this effect was the report of the royal commissioners when they returned, and as if to confirm the conxjlusion that these were the views of the Irish prelates and princes at the time, we find the Irish monarch, Roderic, sending special ambassadors to king Henry to negotiate a formal treaty, recording and regulating the relations which were to exist between them. In Septem- ber, 1175", we are told, ^Hhe Irish monarch sent over to England as his plenipotentiaries, Catholicus 0' Duffy, the archbishop of Tuam; Concors, abbot of St. Brendan's of Clonfert ; and a third, who is called Master Laurence, his chancellor, but who was no other than the holy Archbishop of Dublin, as we know that that illustrious man was one THE STORY OF IRELAND. 131 of those who signed the treaty on this occasion. A great council was held at Windsor, within the octave of Michael- mas, and a treaty was agreed on, the articles of which were to the effect, that Roderick was to be king under Henry, rendering him service as his vassal ; that he was to hold his hereditary territory of Connaught in the same way as before the coming of Henry into Ireland ; that he was to have jurisdiction and dominion over the rest of the island, including its kings and princes, whom he should oblige to pay tribute, through his hands, to the king of EnglaniJ; that these kings and princes were also to hold possession of their respective territories as long as they remained faith- ful to the king of England and paid their tribute to him ; that if they departed from their fealty to the king of Eng- land, Roderick was to judge and depose them, either by his own power, or, if that was not sufficient, by the aid of the Anglo-Norman authorities ; but that his jurisdiction should not extend to the territories occupied by the English set- tlers, which at a later period was called the English Pale, and comprised Meath and Leinster, Dublin with its depen- dent district, Waterford, and the country thence to Dun- garvan. The treaty between the two sovereigns, Roderick and Henry, clearly shows that the mere recognition of the English king as su^eraine was all that appeared to be claimed on the one side or yielded on the other. With this single exception or qualification, the native Irish power, authority, rights, and liberties, were fully and formally guaranteed. What Henry himself thought of the relations in which he stood by this treaty towards Ireland, and the sense in which he read its stipulations, is very intelligibly evidenced in the fact that he never styled, signed, or de- scribed himself as either king or lord of Ireland, in the documents reciting and referring to his relations with and towards that country. But neither Henry nor his Norman barons kept the treaty. Like that made with Ireland by another English king, five hundred years later on, at Limerick, it was "broken ere the ink wherewith was writ was dry**. 132 THE STORY OF IRELAND. I am inclined to credit Henry with having at one time intended to keep it. I think there are indications that he was in a certain sense coerced by his Norman lords into the abandonment, or at least the alteration, of his original policy, plans, and intentions as to Ireland, which were quite too peaceful and afforded too little scope for plunder to please those adventurers. In fact the barons revolted against the idea of not being allowed full scope for rob- bing the Irish ; and one of them, De Courcy, resolved to fling the king's restrictions overboard, and set off on a con- quering or freebooting expedition on his own account I A historian tells us that the royal commissioner Fitzadelm was quite unpopular with the colony. " His tastes were not military ; he did not afford sufficient scope for spoliation ; and he was openly accused oi being too friendly to the Irish, De Courcy, one of his aides in the government, became so disgusted with his inactivity, that he set out, in open defiance of the viceroy's prohibition, on an expedition to the north. Having selected a small army of twenty-two knights and three hundred soldiers, all picked men, to ac- company him, by rapid marches he arrived the fourth day at Downpatrick, the chief city of Ulidia, and the clangour of his bugles ringing through the streets at the break of day, was the first intimation which the inhabitants re- ceived of this wholly unexpected incursion. In the alarm and confusion which ensued, the people became easy vic- tims, and the English, after indulging their rage and rapa- city, entrenched themselves in a corner of the city. Car- dinal Vivian, who had come as legate from Pope Alexander the Third to the nations of Scotland and Ireland, and who had only recently arrived from the Isle of Man, happened to be then in Down, and was horrified at this act of aggres- sion. He attempted to negociate terms of peace, and pro- posed that De Courcy should withdraw his army on the condition of the Ulidians paying tribute to the English king; but any such terms being sternly rejected by De Courcy, the Cardinal encouraged and exhorted Mac Dun- levy, the king of Ulidia and Dalaradia, to defend his ter- ritories manfully against the invaders. Coming as this advice did from tbe Popp'r legate, we may judge in what THE SToRY OF IRELANt). 133 light the grant of Ireland to king Henry the Second was regarded by the Pope himself. It became clear that whatever policy or principles Henry might originally have thought of acting on in Ireland, he should abandon them and come into the scheme of the barons, which was, that he should give them free and full license for the plunder of the Irish, and they in return, would extend his realnu So we find the whole aim and spirit of the royal policy forthwith altered to meet the piratical views of the barons. One of Roderick's sons, Murrogh, rebelled against and endeavoured to depose his father (as the sons of Henry endeavoured to dethrone him a few years subsequently), and Milo de Cogan, by the lord deputy's orders, led a Norman force into Connaught to aid the parricidal revolt ! The Connacians, however, stood by their aged king, shrank from the rebellious son, and under the command of Ro- derick in person gave battle to the Normans at the Shan- non. De Cogan and his Norman treaty-breakers and plunder-seekers were utterly and disastrously defeated; and Murrogh, the unnatural son, being captured, was tried for his offence by the assembled clans, and suffered the eric decreed by law for his crime. This was the first deliberate rent in the treaty by the English. The next was by Henry himself, who, in viola- tion of his kingly troth, undertook to dub his son John, yet a mere child, either lord or king of Ireland, and by those plausible deceits and diplomatic arts in which he proved himself a master, he obtained the approbation of the Pope for his proceeding. Quickly following upon these violations of the treaty of Windsor, and suddenly and completely changing the whole nature of the relations be- tween the Irish and the Normans as previously laid down, Henry began to grant and assign away after the most wholesale fashion, the lands of the Irish, apportioning amongst his hungry followers whole territories yet unseen by an English eye ! Naturalists tell how the paw of a tiger can touch with the softness of velvet or clutch with the force of a vice, according as the deadly fengs are sheathed or put forth. The Irish princes had been treated 134 THE STOKY OP IRELAND. with the velyet smoothness ; they were now to be torn by the lacerating fangs of that tiger grip to which they had yielded themselves up so easily. XXI. DEATH-BED SCENES. T is a singular fact ^^ri^^ — one which no his- torian can avoid particularly notic- ing — that every one of the principal actors on the Eng- lish side in this episode of the first Anglo-Norman invasion, end- ed life violently, or under most painful circumstances. eventful M'Murrogh the traitor died, as we have already seen,' THE STORY OF IRELANt). 135 of a mysterious disease, by which his body became putrid while yet he lingered between life and death. Strong- bow died under somewhat similar circumstances; an ulcer in his foot spread upwards, and so eat away his body that it almost fell to pieces. Strongbow's son was slain by the father's hand. The death-bed of king Henry the Second was a scene of horror. He died cursing with the most fearful maledictions his own sons! In vain the bishops and ecclesiastics surrounding his couch, hor- ror-stricken, sought to prevail upon him to revoke these awful imprecations on his own offspring! ^'Accursed he the day on which I was horn; and accursed of God he the sons that I leave after me^\ were his last words.* Far different is the spectacle presented to us in the death- scene of the hapless Irish monarch Roderick ! Misfortunes in every shape had indeed overwhelmed him, and in his last hou»rs sorrows were multiplied to him. "Near the junction of Lough Corrib with Lough Mask, on the boun- dary line between Mayo and Galway, stand the ruins of the once populous monastery and village of Cong. The first Christian kings of Connaught had founded the monas- tery, or enabled St. Fechin to do so by their generous donations. The father of Roderick had enriched its shrine by the gift of a particle of the true cross, reverently en- shrined in a reliquary, the workmanship of which still ex- cites the admiration of antiquaries. Here Roderick retired in the seventieth year of his age, and for twelve years thereafter — until the 29th day of Novenlber, 1198 — -here he wept and prayed and withered away. Dead to the world, as the world to him, the opening of a new grave in the royal corner at Clonmacnoise was the last incident connected with his name which reminded Connaught that it had lost its once prosperous prince, and Ireland, that she had seen her last Ard-Righ, according to the ancient Milesian constitution. Powerful princes of his own and other houses the land was destined to know for many * Mandit soit le jour ou je Buis n^j et mandits de Dieu soient les fils qui je laisse". 136 THE STORY OF IRELAN15. generations, before its sovereignty was merged in that of England, but none fully entitled to claim the high sound- ing but often fallacious title of Monarch of all Ireland". One other death-bed scene, described to us by the same historian, one more picture from the Irish side, and we shall take our leave of this eventful chapter of Irish his- tory, and the actors who moved in it. The last hours of Roderick's ambassador, the illustrious archbishop of Dub- lin, are thus described: "From Rome he returned with legatine powers which he used with great energy during the year 1180. In the autumn of that year, he was entrusted with the delivery to Henry the Second of the son of Roderick 0' Conor, as a pledge for the fulfilment of the treaty of Windsor, and with other diplomatic functions. On reaching England, he found the king had gone to France, and following him thither, he was seized with ill- ness as he approached the monastery of Eu, and with a prophetic foretaste of death, he exclaimed as he came' in sight of the towers of the convent, ' Here shall I make my resting place'. The Abbot Osbert and the monks of the order of St. Victor received him tenderly and watched his couch for the few days he yet lingered. Anxious to fulfil his mission, he despatched David, tutor of the son of Roderick, with messages to Henry, and awaited his return with anxiety. David brought him a satisfactory response from the English king, and the last anxiety only remained. In death, as in life, his thoughts were with his country. * Ah, foolish and insensible people', he ex- claimed in his latest hours, *what will become of you? Who will relieve your miseries? Who will heal you?' When recommended to make his last will, he answered with apostolic simplicity : * God knows out of all my revenues I have not a single coin to bequeath'. And thus on the 11th of November, 1180, in the forty-eighth year of his age, under the shelter of a Norman roof, surrounded by Norman mourners, the Gaelic statesman-saint departed out of this life, bequeathing one more canonized memory to Ireland and to Rome". tHE STORV of IRELAND. U1 XXII. — HOW THE ANGLO-NORMAN COLONY FARED. HAVE, in the foregoing pages, endeavoured to narrate fully and minutely all the circumstances leading to, and attendant upon, the Anglo- Norman landing and settlement in this country, A.D. 1169-1172. It transcends in importance all other events in our history, having regard to ulterior and enduring consequences ; and a clear and correct understanding of that event will furnish a key to the confused history of the troubled period which immediately succeeded it. It is not my design to follow the formal histories of Ire- land in relating at full length, and in consecutive detail, the events of the four centuries that succeeded the date of king Henry's landing. It was a period of such wild, con- fused, and chaotic struggle, that youthful readers would be hopelessly bewildered in the effort to keep its incidents minutely and consecutively remembered. Moreover, the history of those four centuries fully written out, would make a goodly volume in itself ; a volume abounding with stirring incidents and affecting tragedies, and with episodes of valour and heroism, adventurous daring, and chivalrous patriotic devotion, not to be surpassed in the pages of romance. But the scope of my story forbids my dwelling at any great length upon the events of this period. Such of my readers as may desire to trace them in detail will find them succinctly related in the formal histories of Ire- land. What I propose to do here, is to make my youthful readers acquainted with the general character, course, and progress of the struggle ; 'he phases, changes, or muta- tions through which it passed ; the aspects it presented, and the issues it contested, as each century rolled on, dwell- ing only upon events of comparative importance, and inci- dents illustrating the actions and the actors of the period. Let us suppose a hundred years to have passed away since king Henry's visit to Ireland — that event which Englishmen who write Irish history affect to regard as an 138 THE STORY OF IRELANf). "easy conquest" of our country. Let us see what the Normans have achieved hy the end of one hundred years in Ireland They required but one year to conquer Eng- land; and, accordingly, judging by all ordinary calcula- tions and probabilities, we ought surely, in one hundred times that duration, to find Ireland as thoroughly sub- dued and as completely pacified as England had been in the twelvemonth that sufficed for its utter subjugation. The nature of the struggle waged by the Anglo-Normans against Ireland during this period was rather peculiar. At no time was it an open and avowed eiBfort to conquer Ireland as England had been conquered, though, as a matter of fact, the military force engaged against the Irish throughout the period exceeded that which had suf- ficed the Normans to conquer England. King Henry, as we have already seen, presented himself and his designs in no such hostile guise to the Irish He seems to have con- cluded that, broken and faction-split, disorganized and demoralized, as the Irish princes were, they would pro- bably be rallied into union by the appearance of a nakedly hostile invasion ; and he knew well that it would be easier to conquer a dozen Englands than to overcome this sol*- dier race if only united against a common foe. So tb^ crown of England did not, until long after this time, openly profess to pursue a conquest of Ireland, any more than it professed to pursue a conquest in India in the time of Clive. An Anglo-Norman colony was planted on the south-eastern corner of the island. This colony, which was well sustained from England, was to push its own fortunes, as it were, in Ireland, and to extend itself as rapidly as it could. To jt, as ample excitement, sustain- ment, and recompense, was given, prospectively, the land to be taken from the Irish. The planting of such a colony — composed, as it was, of able, skilful, and desperate mili- tary adventurers — and the endowing of it, so to speak, with such rich prospect of plunder, was the establishment of a perpetual and self-acting mechanism for the gradual reduction of Ireland. Against this colony the Irish warred in their own de- sultory way, very much as they warred against each other, THE STORY OF IRELAND. 139 neither better nor worse ; and in the fierce warring of the Irish princes with each other, the Anglo-Norman colonists sided now with one, now with another; nay, very fre- quently in such conflicts Anglo-Normans fought on each side ! The colony, however, had precisely that which the Irish needed — a supreme authority ever guiding it in the one purpose ; and it always felt strong in the conscious- ness that, at the worst, England was at its back, and that in its front lay, not the Irish nation, but the broken frag- ments of that once great and glorious power. The Irish princes, meantime, each one for himself, fought away as usual, either against the Norman colonists or against some neighbouring Irish chief. Indeed, they may be described as fighting each other with one hand, and fighting England with the other ! Quite as curious is the fact, that in all their struggles with the latter, they seem to have been ready enough to admit the honorary lordship or suzerainty of the English king, but resolved to resist to the death the Norman encroachments beyond the cities and lauds to the possession of which they had attained by reason of their treaties with, or successes under, Dermot M^Murrogh. The fight was all for the soil. Then, as in our own times, the battle cry was " Land or Life!" But the English power had two modes of action ; and when one failed the other was tried. As long as the rapa- cious freebooting of the barons was working profitably, not only for themselves but for the king, it was all very well. But when that policy resulted in arousing the Irish to suc- cessful resistance, and the freebooters were being routed everywhere, or when they had learned to think too much of their own profit and too little of the king's, then his English majesty could take to the role of magnanimous friend, protector, or suzeraine of the Irish princes, and angry punisher of the rapacious Norman barons. We have already seen that when Henry the Second visited Ireland, it was (pretendedly at least) in the character of a just-minded king, who came to chastise his own subjects, the Norman spettlers. When next an English king visited these shores, it was professedly with a like design. In 140 TAB StORY OB' IRELAND, 1210 king Jolin arrived, and during his'entire stay in this country he was occupied, not in wars or conflicts with the Irish ; quite the contrary — in chastising the most powerful and presumptuous of the great Norman lords ! What wonder that the Irish princes were confirmed in the old idea, impressed upon them by king Henry's words and actions, that though in the Norman barons they had to deal with savage and merciless spoliators, m the English king they had a friendly suzeraine? As a matter of fact, the Irish princes who had fought most stoutly and victo- riously against the Normans up to the date of John's arri- val, at once joined their armies to his, and at the head of this combined force the English king proceeded to over- throw the most piratical and powerful of the barons ! Says M^Gee: "The visit of king John, which lasted from the 20th of June to the 25th of August, was mainly direc- ted to the reduction of those intractable Anglo-Irish princes whom Fitz-Henry and Gray had proved themselves unable to cope with. Of these the De Lacys of Meath were the most obnoxious They not only assumed an independent state, but had sheltered de Braos, lord of Brecknock, one of the recusant barons of Wales, and refused to surrender him on the royal summons. To assert his authority and to strike terror into the nobles (3f other possessions, John crossed the channel with a prodigious fleet — in the Irish annals said to consist of seven hundred sail. He landed at Crook, reached Dublin, and prepared at once to subdue the Lacys. With his own army, and the cooperation of Cathal 0' Conor, he drove out Walter de Lacy, Lord of Meath, who fled to his brother, Hugh de Lacy, since de Courcy's disgrace. Earl of Ulster. From Meath into Louth John pursued the brothers, crossing the lough at Carlingford with his ships, which must have coasted in his company. From Carlingford they retreated, and he pursued to Car- rickfergus, and that fortress, being unable to resist a royal fleet and navy, they fled into Man or Scotland, and thence escaped in disguise into France. With their guest de Braos, they Vrou^ht as gardeners in the grounds of the Abbey of Saint Taurin Evreux, until the abbot, hav- ing discovered by their manners the key to their real rank. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 141 negociated successfully with Jolin for their restoration to their estates. Walter agreed to pay a fine of 2,500 marks for his lordship in Meath, and Hugh 4,000 for his posses- sions in Ulster. Of de Braos we have no particulars ; his high-spirited wife and children were thought to have been starved to death by order of the unforgiving tyrant in one his castles". In the next succeeding reign (that of Henry the Third), we find a like impression existing and encouraged amongst the Irish princes; the king of Connacht proceeding to England and complaining to the king of the unjust, oppres- sive, and rapacious conduct of the barons. And we find king Henry ordering him substantial redress, writing to his lord justice in Ireland, Maurice Fitzgerald, to pluck up by the root" the powerful De Burgo, who lorded it over all the west. There is still in existence a letter written by the Connacian king to Henry the Third, thank- ing him for the many favours he had conferred upon him, but particularly for this one. XXIII. — "the bier that conquered", the story of GODFREY OF TYRCONNELL. HAVE remarked that the Irish chiefs may be said to have fought each other with one hand, while they fought the English with the other. Illustrating this state of things, I may refer to the story of Godfrey, prince of Tyrconnell — as glorious a character as ever adorned the page of history. For years the Normans had striven ^ in vain to gain a foot-hold in Tyrconnell. Else- where — in Connacht, in Munster, throughout all Leinster, and in southern Ulster — they could betimes assert their sway, either by dint of arms or insidious diplomatic strategy. But never could they over-reach the wary and martial Cinel-Connal, from whom more than once the Norman armies had suffered overthrow. At length the 142 THE STORY OP IRELAND. lord justice, Maurice Fitzgerald, felt that this hitherto in- vulnerable fortress of native Irisli power in the north-west had become a formidable standing peril to the entire English colony ; and it was accordingly resolved that the whole strength of the Anglo-Norman force in Ireland should be put forth in one grand expedition against it ; and this expedition the lord justice decided that he him- self would lead and command in person ! At this time Tyrconnell was ruled by a prince who was the soul of chi- valric bravery, wise in the council, and daring in the field — Godfrey O'Donnell. The lord justice, while assembling his forces, employed the time, moreover, in skilfully diplo- matising, playing the insidious game which, in every cen- tury, most largely helped the Anglo-Norman interest in Ire- land — setting up rivalries and inciting hostilities amongst the Irish princes I Having, as he thought, not only cut off Godfrey from all chance of alliance or support from his fellow-princes of the north and west, but environed him with their active hostility, Fitzgerald marched on Tyrcon- nel. His army moved with all the pomp and panoply of Norman pride. Lords, earls, knights, and squires, from every Norman castle or settlement in the land, had rallied at the summons of the king's representative. Godfrey, isolated though he found himself, was nothing daunted by the tre- mendous odds which he knew were against him. He was conscious of his own military superiority to any of the Norman lords yet sent against him — he was in fact one of the most skilful captains of the age— and he relied impli- citly on the unconquerable bravery of his clansmen. Both armies met at Credan-Kille in the north of Sligo. A battle which the Normans describe as fiercely and vehemently contested, ensued and raged for hours without palpable advantage to either side. In vain the mail-clad battalions of England rushed upon the saffron kilted Irish clansmen ; each time they reeled from the shock and fled in bloody routl In vain the cavalry squadrons — long the boasted pride of the Normans — headed by earls and knights whose names were rallying cries in Norman England, swept upon the Irish lines 1 Riderless horses alone returned, ** Their nostrils all red with the sign of despair". THE STORY OP IRELAND. 143 The lord justice in wild dismay saw the proudest army ever rallied by Norman power on Irish soil, being routed and hewn piecemeal before his eyes ! ^Godfrey, on the other hand, the very impersonation of valour, was every- where cheering his men, directing the battle and dealing destruction to the Normans. The gleam of his battle-axe or the flash of his sword, was the sure precursor of death to the haughtiest earl or knight that dared to confront him. The lord justice— than whom no abler general or braver soldier served the king — saw that the day was lost if he could not save it by some desperate effort, and at the worst he had no wish to survive the overthrow of the splendid army he had led into the field. The flower of the Norman nobles had fallen under the sword of Godfrey, and him the Lord Maurice now sought out, dashing into the thickest of the fight. The two leaders met in single combat. Fitzgerald dealt the Tyrconnell chief a deadly wound ; but Godfrey, still keeping his seat, with one blow of his battle-axe, clove the lord justice to the earth, and the proud baron was carried senseless off the field by his followers. The English fled in hopeless confusion; and of them the chroniclers tell us there was made a slaughter that night's darkness alone arrested. The Lord Maurice was done with pomp and power after the ruin of that day. He survived his dreadful wound for some time ; he re- tired into a Franciscan monastery which he himself had built and endowed at Youghal, and there taking the habit of a monk, he departed this life tranquilly in the bosom of religion. Godfrey, meanwhile, mortally wounded, was unable to follow up quickly the great victory of Credan- kille ; but stricken as he was, and with life ebbing past, he did not disband his army till he had demolished the only castle the English had dared to raise on the soil of Tyrcon- nell. This being done, and the last soldier of England chased beyond the frontier line, he gave the order for dis- persion, and himself was borne homewards to die. This, however, sad to tell, was the moment seized upon by O'Neill, prince of Tyrone, to wrest from the Cinel- Connall submission to his power ! Hearing that the lion- hearted Godfrey lay dying, and while yet the Tyrconnellian 144 THE STORY OF IRELAND. clans, disbanded and on their homeward roads, were suf- fering from their recent engagement with the Normans, O'Neill sent envoys to the dying prince demanding hostages in token of submission ? The envoys, say all the historians, no sooner delivered this message than they fled for their lives I Dying though Godfrey was, and broken and wounded as were his clansmen by their recent glorious struggle, the messengers of Tirowen felt but too forcibly the peril of delivering this insolent demand ! And charac- teristically was it answered by Godfrey ! His only reply was to order an instantaneous muster of all the fighting men of Tyrconnell. The army of Tyrowen meanwhile pressed for- ward rapidly to strike the Cinel-Connal, if possible^ be- fore their available strength, such as it was, could be rallied. Nevertheless, they found the quickly re-assembled victors of Credan-kille awaiting them. But alas, sorrow- ful story ! On the morning of the battle, death had but too plainly set his seal upon the brow of the heroic God- frey I As the troops were being drawn up in lina, ready to march into the field, the physicians announced that his last moments were at hand ; he had but a few hours to live I Godfrey himself received the information with sublime composure. Having first received the last sacraments of the Church, and given minute instructions as to the order of battle, he directed that he should he laid upon the bier which was to have borne him to the grave; and that thus he should be carried at the head of his army on their march! His orders were obeyed, and then was witnessed a scene for which history has not a parallel ! The dying king, laid on his bier, was borne at the head of his troops into the field ! After the bier came the standard of Godfrey — on which was emblazoned a cross with the words, hoc signo vinces* — and next came the charger of the dying king, ca- * On the banner and shield of Tyrconnel were emoiazoned a Cross surrounded by the words In hoc signo vinces. One readily iaclines to the conjecture that this was borrowed from the Roman emperor Constantino. The words may have been ; but amongst the treasured traditions of the Cinel-Connal was one which there is reason for regarding as historically reliable, assigning to an iute 10 THE STORY OP IRELAND. 147 parisoned as if for battle ! But Godfrey's last fight was fought ! Never more was that charger to bear him where the sword-blows fell thickest. Never more would his battle-axe gleam in the front of the combat. But as if his presence, living, dead, or dying, was still a potential assu- rance of triumph to his people, the Cinel-Connal bore down all opposition. Long and fiercely, but vainly, the aiTny of Tyrowen contested the field. Around the bier of Godfrey his faithful clansmen made an adamantine ram- part which no foe could penetrate. Wherever it was borne, the Tyrconnel phalanx, of which it was the heart and centre, swept all before them. At length when the foe was flying on all sides, they laid the bier upon the ground to tell the king that the day was won. But the resting circumstance the adoption by them of the Cross as the armorial bearings of the sept. One of the earliest of St. Patrick's converts was Conall Crievan, brother of Ard-Ri-Laori, and ances- tor of the Cinel-ConnaU. Conall was a prince famed for his courage and bravery, and much attached to military pursuits ; but on his conversion he desired to become a priest; preferring his request to this effect to St. Patrick, when either baptizing or con- firming him. The saint, however, commanded him to remain a soldier; but to fight henceforth as became a Christian warrior; " and under this sign serve and conquer", said the saint, raising the iron- pointed end of the Staff of Jesus", and marking on the shield of Conall a cross. The shield thus marked by St. Patrick's crozier was ever after called **Sciath Bachlach", or the " Shield of the Crozier". Mr. Aubrey de Vere very truly calls this the '* inauguration of Irish (Christian) chivalry", and has made the incident the subject of the following poem: — ST. PATRICK AND THE KNIGHT. ' Thou shalt not be a priest", he said; "Christ hath for thee a lowlier task: Be thou his soldier! Wear with dread His cross upon thy shield and casque 1 Put on God's armour, faithful knight I Mercy with justice, love with law ; Nor e'er, except for truth and right, This sword, cross -hilted, dare to draw". He spake, and with his crozier pointed Graved on the broad shield s brazen boss (That hour baptized, confirmed, anointed. Stood Erin's chivalry) the Cross: And there was heard a whisper low— (Saint Michael, was that whisper thine Thou sword, keep pure thy virgin vow, And trenchant thou shalt be ns mine. 148 THE STORY OF IRELAND, face of Godfrey was marble pale, and cold and motionless I All was over ! His heroic spirit had departed amidst his people's shouts of victory ! Several poems have been written on this tragic yet glorious episode. That from which I take the following passages, is generally accounted the best:* — All worn and wan, and sore with wounds from Credan's bloody fray, In Donegal for weary months the proud O'Donnell lay; Around his couch in bitter grief his trusty clansmen wait. And silent watch, with aching hearts, his faint and feeblci state. The chief asks one evening to be brought into the open air, that he may gaze once more on the landscape's familia^r scenes: — ^ "And see the stag upon the hills, the white clouds drifting by; And feel upon my wasted cheek God's sunshine ere I die". Suddenly he starts on his pallet, and exclaims : ** A war-steed's tramp is on the heath, and onward cometh fast, And by the rood! a trumpet sounds ! hark! 't is the Red Hand's blast i» And soon a kern all breathless ran, and told a stranger train Across the heath was spurring fast, and then in sight it came. **Go, bring me, quick, my father's sword", the noble chieftain said; " My mantle o'er my shoulders fling, place helmet on my head; And raise me to my feet, for ne'er shall clansman of my foe Go boasting tell in far Tyrone he saw O'Donnell low". The envoys of O'Neill arrive in Godfrey's presence, and deliver their message, demanding tribute : ** A hundred hawks from out your woods, all trained their prey to get; A hundred steeds from off your hills, uncrossed by rider yet; A hundred kine from off your hills, the best your land doth knoW; A hundred hounds from out your halls, to hunt the stag and roe'\ Godfrey, however, is resolved to let his foes, be thej Norman or native, know that, though dying, he is not dead • The name of the souther is unknownk The story op irelanI), 149 yet. He orders a levy of all the fighting men of Tyr- connell : — ** Go call around Tyrconnell's chief my warriors tried and true; Send forth a friend to Donal More, a scout to Lisnahue; Light baal-fires quick on Esker's towers, that all the land may know O'Donnell needeth help and haste to meet his haughty foe. * * Oh, could I but my people head, or wield once more a spear, Saint Angus ! but we 'd hunt their hosts like herds of fallow deer. But vain the wish, since I am now a faint and failing man; Yet, ye shall bear me to the field, in the centre of my clan. ** Right in the midst, and lest, perchance, upon the march I die, In my colB&n ye shall place me, uncovered let me lie; And swear ye now, my body cold shall never rest in clay, Until you drive from Donegal O'Niall's host away". Then sad and stem, with hand on skian, that solemn oath they swore, And in a coffin placed their chief, and on a litter bore. Tho' ebbing fast his life -throbs came, yet dauntless in his mood, He marshalled well Tyrconnell's chiefs, like leader wise and good. * . » M * * Lough Swilly's sides are thick with spears, O'Niall's host is there, And proud and gay their battle sheen, their banners float the air; And haughtily a challenge bold thjjir trumpets bloweth free. When winding down the heath-clad hills, O'Donnell's band they see ! No answer back those warriors gave, but sternly on they stept. And ia their centre, curtained black, a litter close is kept; And all their host it guideth fair, as did in Galilee Proud Judah's tribes the Ark of God, when crossing Egypt's sea. Then rose the roar of battle loud, as clan met clan in fight; The axe and skian grew red with blood, a sad and woful sight; Yet in the midst o'er all, unmoved, that litter black is seen. Like some dark rock that lifts its head o'er ocean's war serene. Yet once, when blenching back fierce Bryan's charge before, Tyrconnell wavered in its ranks, and all was nearly o'er. Aside those curtains wide were flung, and plainly to the view Each host beheld O'Donnell there, all pale and wan in hue. And to his tribes he stretch'd his hands — then pointed to the foe. When with a shout they rally round, and on Clan Hugh they go; And back they beat their horsemen fierce, and in a column deep, With O'Donnell in their foremost rank, in one fierce charge they sweep. 150 THE STORV of IRELAND. Lough Swillj^'s banks are thick with spears O'Niall's host ig there, But rent and tost like tempest clouds — Clan Donnell in the rere ! Lough S willy's waves are red with blood, as madly in its tide O'Niall's horsemen wildly plunge, to reach the other side. And broken is Tyrowen's pride, and \Tinquished Clannaboy, And there is wailing thro' the land, from Bann to Aughnacloy The red hand's cresfis bent in grief, upon its shield a stain, For its stoutest clans are broken, its stoutest chiefs are slain. And proud and high Tyrconnell shouts ; but blending on the gale, Upon the ear ascendeth a sad and sullen wail ; For on that field, as back they bore, from chasing of the foe, The spirit of O'Donnell fled ! — oh, woe for Ulster, woe ! Yet died he there all gloriously — a victor in the fight ; A chieftain at his people's head, a warrior in his might ; They dug him there a fittmg grave upon that field of pride, And a lofty cairn raised abov^, by fair Lough Swilly's side. In this story of Godfrey of Tyrconnell we have a perfect illustration of the state of affairs in Ireland at the time. Studying it, no one can marvel that the English power eventually prevailed; but many may wonder that the struggle lasted so many centuries. What Irishman can contemplate without sorrow the spectacle of those brave soldiers of Tyrconnel and their heroic prince, after contend- ing with, and defeating, the concentrated power of the Anglo-Norman settlement, called upon to hurriedly re-unite their broken and wounded ranks that they might fight yet another battle against fresh foes— tnose foes their own countrymen I Only amongst a people given over to the madness that precedes destruction, could conduct like that of O'Neill be exhibited At a moment when Godfrey and his battle-wounded clansmen had routed the common foe at a moment when they were known to be weakened after such a desperate combat — at a moment when they should have been hailed with acclaim, and greeted with aid and succour by every chief and clan in Ireland— they are foully taken at disadvantage, and called upon to fight anew, by their own fellow-countrymen and neighbours of Tyrowen I The conduct of O'Neill on this occasion was a fair sample of the prevailing practice amongst the Irish princes, Faction-split to the last degree, each ene sought merelj THE STORY OF IRELAND. 151 his own personal advantage or ambition. Nationality and patriotism were sentiments no longer understood. Bravery in battle, dauntless courage, heroic endurance, marvellous skill, we find them displaying to the last ; but the higher political virtues, so essential to the existence of a nation — unity of purpose and of action against a common foe — re- cognition of and obedience to a central national authority — were utterly absent. Let us own in sorrow that a people amongst whom such conduct as that of O'Neill towards Godfrey of Tyrconnel was not only possible but of frequent occurrence, deserved subjection — invited it — rendered it inevitable. Nations, like individuals, must ex- pect the penalty of disregarding the first essentials to exis- tence. Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty". Fac- tionism like that of the Irish princes found its sure punish- ment in subjugation. XXIV. — HOW THE IRISH NATION AWOKE FROM ITS TRANCE, AND FLUNG OFF ITS CHAINS. THE CAREER OF KING EDWARD BRUCE. ARLY in the second century of the Norman settlement we find the Irish for the first time apparently realising their true position in rela- tion to England. They begin to appreciate the fact that it is England and not the Anglo-Nor- man colony they have to combat, and that re- cognition of the English power means loss of liberty, loss of honour, loss of property, aliena- tion of tlie soil ! Had the Irish awakened sooner to these facts, it is just possible they might have exerted them- selves and combined in a national struggle against the fate thus presaged. But they awoke to them too late — The fatal chain was o'er them cast, And they were men no more ! 152 THE STORY OF IRELAND. As if to quicken within them the stings of self-reproach, they saw their Gaelic kinsmen of Caledonia bravely battling in compact national array against this same English power that had for a time conquered them also. When king Edward marched northward to measure swords with the Scottish "rebel" Eobert Bruce, he summoned his Norman lieges and all other true and loyal subjects in Ireland to send him aid. The Anglo-Norman lords of Ireland did accordingly equip considerable bodies, and with them joined the king in Scotland. The native Irish, on the other hand, sent aid to Bruce ; and on the field of Bannockburn old foes on Irish soil met once more in deadly combat on new ground — the Norman lords and the Irish chieftains. " Twenty-one clans, Highlanders and Islesmen, and many Ulstermen fought on the side of Bruce on the field of Bannockburn. The grant of * Kincardine- O'Neill', made by the victor-king to his Irish followers, remains a striking evidence of their fidelity to his person and their sacrifices in his cause. The result of that glorious day was, by the testimony of all historians, English as well as Scottish, re- ceived with enthusiasm on the Irish side of the channel".* Fired by the glorious example of their Scottish kinsmen, the native Irish princes for the first time took up the de- sign of a really national and united effort to expel the English invaders root and branch. Utterly unused to union or combination as they had been for hundreds of years, it is really wonderful how readily and successfully they carried out their design. The northern Irish princes with few exceptions entered into it ; and it was agreed that as well to secure the prestige of Bruce's name and the alliance of Scotland, as also to avoid native Irish jealousies in submitting to a national leader or king, Edward Bruce, the brother of king Robert, should be invited to land in Ireland with an auxiliary liberating army, and should be recognized as king The Ulster princes, with Donald O'Neill at their head, sent off a memorial to the Pope (John the Twelfth), a document which is still extant, and is, as ♦M*Gee. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 153 may be supposed, of singular interest and importance. In this memorable letter the Irish princes acquaint his Holi- ness with their national design ; and having reference to the bulls or letters of popes Adrian and Alexander, they proceed to justify their resolution of destroying the hated English power in their country, and point out the fraud and false pretence upon which those documents were ob- tained by king Henry from the pontiffs named. The sovereign pontiff appears to have been profoundly moved by the recital of facts in this remonstrance or memorial. Not long after he addressed to the English king (Edward the Third) a letter forcibly reproaching the English sove- reigns who had obtained those bulls from popes Adrian and Alexander, with the crimes of deceit and violation of their specific conditions and covenants. To the objects of those bulls, his Holiness says, " neither king Henry nor his successors paid any regard; but, passing the bounds that had been prescribed for them, they had heaped upon the Irish the most unheard-of miseries and persecutions, and had, during a long period, imposed on them a yoke of slavery which could not be horne'\ The Irish themselves were now, however, about to make a brave effort to break that unbearable yoke, to terminate those miseries and persecutions, and to establish a national throne once more in the land. On the 25th May, 1315, Edward Bruce, the invited deliverer, lauded near Glenarm in Antrim, with a force of six thousand men. He was instantly joined by Donald O'Neill, prince of Ulster, and throughout all the northern half of the island the most intense excitement spread. The native Irish flocked to Bruce's standard ; the Anglo-Normans, in dismay, hurried from all parts to encounter this truly formidable danger, and succeeded in compelling, or inducing, the Connacian prince, 0' Conor, to join them. Meanwhile the Scoto- Irish amiy' marched southward, defeating every attempt of the local English garrisons to obstruct its victorious progress. The lord justice, coming from Dublin with all the forces he could bring from the south, and Richard de Burgo, Anglo-Norman titular earl of Ulster, hurrying from Athlone with a powerful contingent raised in the 154 THE STORY OF IRELAND. west, came up witii tlie national army at Ardee, too late, however, to save that town, which the Irish had just captured and destroyed, This Earl Eichard is known in Anglo-Irish history as ^^the Red Earl". He was the most prominent character, and in every sense the greatest — the ablest and most powerful and influential — man of that century amongst the Anglo-Nonnan rulers or nobles. As a matter of fact, his influence and power over-topped and over-shadowed that of the lord justice ; and, singular to relate, the king's letters and writs, coming to Ireland, were invariably, as a matter of form, addressed to him in the first instance, that is, his name came first, and that of the lord justice for the time being next. He was, in truth, king of the Anglo-Xormans in Ireland. He raised armies, levied war, made treaties, conferred titles, and bestowed lands, without the least reference to the formal royal deputy — the lord justice in Dublin — whom he looked down upon with disdain. Accordingly, when these two magnates met on this occasion, the Red Earl contemptuously desired the lord justice to get him back to his castle of Dublin as quickly as he pleased, for that he himself. Earl Richard, as befitted his titled rank of earl of Ulster, would take in hands the work of clearing the province of the Scottish-Irish army, and would guarantee to deliver Edward Bruce, living or dead, into the justice's hands ere many days. Notwithstanding this haughty speech, the lord justice and his forces remained, and the combined army now confronted Bruce, outnumbering him hopelessly; whereupon he commenced to retreat slowly, his object being to effect, either by military stra* tegy or diplomacy, a separation of the enemy's forces. This object was soon accomplished. When the Connacian king, Felim O'Connor, joined the Red Earl, and marched against Bruce, in his own principality his act was re- volted against as parricidal treason. Ruari, son of Cathal Roe O'Conor, head of the Clanna-Murtough, unfurled the national flag, declared for the national cause, and soon struck for it boldly and decisively. Hurriedly despatching envoys to Bruce, tendering adhesion, and requesting to be commissioned or recognized as prince of Connact in place THE STORY OF IRELAND. 155 of Felim, who had forfeited by fighting against his coun- try at such a crisis, he meanwhile swept through all the west, tearing down the Norman rule and erecting in its stead the national authority, declaring the penalty of high treason against all who favoured or sided with the Norman enemy or refused to aid the national cause* Felim heard of these proceedings before Kuari's envoys reached Bruce, and quickly saw that his only chance of safety — and in truth the course most in consonance with his secret feel- ings — was, himself, to make overtures to Bruce, which he did ; so that about the time Ruari's envoys arrived, Felim's oflfers were also before the Scoto-Irish conmiander. Valu- able as were Ruari's services in the west, the greater and more urgent consideration was to detach Felim from the Norman army, which thus might be fought, but which otherwise could not be withstood. Accordingly, Bruce came to terms with Felim, and answered to Ruari that he was in no way to molest the possessions of Felim, who was now on the right side, but to take all he could from the common enemy the English. Felim, in pursuance of his agreement with Bruce, now withdrew from the English camp and faced homeward, whereupon Bruce and O'Neill, no longer afraid to encounter the enemy, though still su- perior to them in numbers, gave battle to the lord justice. A desperate engagement ensued at Connoyr, on the banks of the river Bann, near Ballymena. The great Norman army was defeated ; the haughty Earl Richard was obliged to seek personal safety in flight ; his brother, William, with quite a number of other Norman knights and nobles, being taken prisoners by that same soldier-chief whom he had arrogantly undertaken to capture and present, dead or alive, within a few days, at Dublin Castle gate ! The shattered forces of the lord justice retreated southward as best they could. The Red Earl fled into Connact, where, for a year, he was fain to seek safety in comparative obscu- rity, shorn of all power, pomp, and possessions. Of these, what he had not lost on the battle field at Connoyre, he found wrested from him by the Prince of Tyrconnel, who, by way of giving the Red Earl something to do near home, had burst down upon the Anglo-Norman possessions in 156 THE STORY OF IRELAND. the west, and levelled every castle that flew the red flag of England! The Irish army now marched southward once more, capturing all the great towns and Norman castles on the way. At Loughsweedy, in Westmeath, Bruce and O'Neill went into winter quarters, and spent their Christmas " in the midst of the most considerable chiefs of Ulster, Meath, and Connact". Thus closed the first campaign in this, the first really national war undertaken agamst the English power in Ire- land. "The termination of his first campaign on Irish soil", says a historian, "might be considered highly favour- able to Bruce. More than half the clans had risen, and others were certain to follow their example; the clergy were almost wholly with him, and his heroic brother had promised to lead an army to his aid in the ensuing spring". In the early spring of the succeeding year (1316) he opened the next campaign by a march southwards. The Anglo-Norman armies made several ineffectual efforts to bar his progress. At Kells, in King's County of the present day, Sir Eoger Mortimer at the head of fifteen thousand men made the most determined stand. A great battle ensued, the Irish utterly routing this the last army of any proportions now opposed to them. Soon after this deci- sive victory, Bruce and O'Neill returned northwards in proud exultation. Already it seemed that the liberation of Ireland was complete. Having arrived at Dundalk, the national army halted, and preparations were commenced for the great ceremonial that was to consummate and com- memorate the national deliverance. At a solemn council of the native prifices and chiefs, Edward Bruce was elected king of Ireland ; Donald O'Neill, the heart and head of the entire movement, formally resigning by letters patent in favour of Bruce such rights as belonged to him as son of the last acknowledged native sovereign. After the elec- tion, the ceremonial of inauguration was carried out in the native Irish forms, with a pomp and splendour such as had not been witnessed since the reign of Brian the First. This imposing ceremony took place on the hill of Knocknemelan, within a mile of Dundalk ; and the formal election and in- auguration being over, the king and the assembled princes THE STORY OF IRELAND 157 and chiefs marched in procession into the town, where the solemn consecration took place in one of the churches. King Edward now established his court in the castle of Northburg, possessing and exercising all the prerogatives, powers, and privileges of royalty, holding courts of justice, and enforcing such regulations as were necessary for the welfare and good order of the country. XXV. now THIS BRIGHT DAY OF INDEPENDENCE WAS TURNED TO GLOOM. HOW THE SEASONS FOUGHT AGAINST IRELAND, AND FAMINE FOR ENGLAND. HE Anglo-Irish power was almost extinct. It ^^k^^^ would probably never more have been heard of, and the newly-revived nationality would have lasted long, and prospered, had there not been behind that broken and ruined colony all the resources of a great and powerful nation. The English monarch summoned to a conference with himself in London several of the Anglo- Irish barons, and it was agreed by all that nothing but a compact union amongst themselves, strong rein- forcements from England, and the equipment of an army of great magnitude for a new campaign in Ireland, could avert the complete and final extinction of the English power in that country. Preparations were ac- cordingly made for placing in the field such an army as had never before been assembled by the Anglo- Irish colony. King Edward of Ireland, on the other hand, was fully conscious that the next campaign would be the supreme trial, and both parties, English and Irish, pre- pared to put forth their utmost strength. True to his pro- mise, king Eobert of Scotland arrived to the aid of his brother, bringing with him a small contingent. The royal brothers soon opened the campaign. Marching southwards at the head of thirty-six thousand men, they crossed the Boyne at Slane, and soon were beneath the walls of Castle- 158 THE STORY OF IRELAND. knock, a powerful Anglo-Norman fortress, barely three miles from tlie gate of Dublin. Castleknock was assaulted and taken, the governor Hugh Tyrell being made prisoner. The Irish and Scotch kings took up their quarters in the castle, and the Anglo-Normans of Dublin, gazing from the city walls, could see between them and the setting sun the royal standards of Ireland and Scotland floating proudly side by side ! In this extremity the citizens of Dublin exhibited a spirit of indomitable courage and determination. To their action in this emergency — designated by some as the desperation of wild panic, but by others, in my opinion more justly, intrepidity and heroic public spirit — they saved the chief seat of Anglo- Norman authority and power, the loss of which at that moment would have altered the whole fate and fortunes of the ensuing campaign. Led on by the mayor, they ex- hibited a frantic spirit of resistance, burning down the suburbs of their city, and freely devoting to demolition even their churches and priories outside the walls, lest these should afford shelter or advantage to a besieging army. The Irish army had no sieging materials, and could not just then pause for the tedious operations of reducing a walled and fortified city like Dublin, especially when such a spirit of vehement determination was evinced not merely by the garrison but by the citizens themselves. In fact, the city could not be invested without the cooperation of a powerful fleet to cut off supplies by sea from England. The Irish army, therefore, was compelled to turn away from Dublin, and leave that formidable position intact in their rear. They marched southward as in the previous cam- paigns, this time reaching as far as Limerick. Again, as before, victory followed their banners. Their course was literally a succession of splendid achievements. The Nor- mans never offered battle that they were not utterly de- feated. The full strength of the English, however, had not yet been available, and a foe more deadly and more formidable than all the power of England was about to fall upon the Irish army. By one of those calamitous concurrences which are THE STORY OF IRELAND. 159 often to be noted in history, there fell upon Ireland in this year (1317) a famine of dreadful severity. The crops had entirely failed the previous autumn, and now throughout the land the dread consequences were spreading desolation. The brothers Bruce each day found it more and more diffi- cult to provision the army, and soon it became apparent that hunger and privation were destroying and demoralis- ing the national force. This evil in itself was bad enough, but a worse followed upon it. As privation and hunger loosed the bonds of military discipline, the soldiers spread themselves over the country seeking food, and soon there sprung up between the Scottish contingent and the Irish troops and inhabitants bitter ill feeling and contention. The Scots — who from the very outset appear to have dis- criminated nought in plundering castles and churches when the opportunity came fairly in their way — now, throwing off all restraint, broke into churches, and broke open and rifled shrines and tombs. The Irish, whose reverence for religion was always so intense and solemn, were horrified at these acts of sacrilege and desecration, and there gra- dually spread through the country a vague but all-power- ful popular belief that the dreadful scourge of famine was a "visitation of heaven" called down upon the country by the presence of the irreverent Scots ! Meanwhile the English were mustering a tremendous force in the rear of the wasted Irish army. The Bruces, on learning the fact, quickly ordered a night retreat, and pushed northwards by forced marches. An Anglo-Irish army of thirty thousand men, well appointed and pro- visioned, lay across their path ; yet such was the^terror in- spired by vivid recollection of the recent victories of the Irish and the prestige of Bruce' s name, that this vast force, as the historian tells us, hung around the camp of the half- starved and diminished Scotto-Irish army, without ever once daring to attack them in a pitched battle ! On the 1st May, after a march full of unexampled suffering, the remnant of the Irish army safely reached Ulster. The famine now raged with such intensity all over Ire- land, that it brought about a suspension of hostilities. Neither party could provision an army in the field. King 160 THE STORY OP IRELAND. Robert of Scotland, utterly disheartened, sailed homeward. His own couiitry was not free from suffering, and in any event, the terrible privations of the past few months had filled the Scottish contingent with discontent. King Edward, however, nothing daunted, resolved to stand by • the Irish kingdom to the last, and it was arranged that whenever a resumption of hostilities became feasible, Robert should send him another Scottish contingent. The harvest of the following year (1318) was no sooner gathered in and found to be of comparative abundance, than both parties sprang to arms. The English comman- der-in-chief, John de Birmingham, was quickly across the Boyne at the head of twelve thousand men, intent on striking king Edward before his hourly expected Scottish contingent could arrive. The Irish levies were but slowly coming in, and Edward at this time had barely two or three thousand men at hand. Nevertheless he resolved to meet the English and give them battle. Donald O'Neill and the other native princes saw the madness of this course, and vainly endeavoured to dissuade the king from it. They pointed out that the true strategy to be adopted under the circumstances was to gain time, to retire slowly on their northern base, disputing each inch of ground, but risking no pitched battle until the national levies would have come in, and the Scottish contingent arrived, by which time, moreover, they would have drawn Birming- ham away from his base, and would have him in a hostile country. There can be no second opinion about the merits of this scheme. It was the only one for Edward to pursue just then. It was identical with that which had enabled him to overthrow the Red Earl three years before and had won the battle of Connoyre. But the king was immoveable. At all times headstrong, self-willed, and impetuous, he now seemed to have been rendered extravagantly over-confident by the singular fact (for fact it was), that never yet had he met the English in battle on Irish soil that he did not de- feat them. It is said that some of the Irish princes, fully persuaded of the madness of the course resolved upon, and incensed by the despotic obstinacy of the king, withdrew from the camp. ^' There remained with the iron-headed THE STORY OP IRELAND. 163 king", says the historian, "the lords Mowbray de Sonlisand Stewart, with the three brothers of the latter, Mac Roy, Lord of the Isles, and Mac Donald, chief of his clan. The neighbourhood of Dnndalk, the scene of his triumphs and coronation, was to be the scene of the last act of Brace's chivalrous and stormy career". From the same authority (M^Gee) I quote the following account of that scene: — "On the 14th of October, 1318, at the Hill of Faughard, within a couple miles of Dundalk, the advance guard of the hostile armies came into the presence of each other, and made ready for battle. Roland de Jorse, the foreign Archbishop of Armagh, who had not been able to take possession of his see, though appointed to it seven year? before, accompanied the Anglo-Irish, and moving through their ranks, gave his benediction to their banners. But the impetuosity of Bruce gave little time for preparation. At the head of the vanguard, without waiting for the whole of his company to come up, he charged the enemy with impetuosity. The action became general, and the skill of De Bermingham as a leader was again demonstrated. An incident common to the warfare of that age was, however, the immediate cause of the victory. Master John De Maupas, a burgher of Dundalk, believing that the death of the Scottish leader would be the signal for the retreat of his followers, disguised as a jester or a fool, sought him throughout the field. One of the royal esquires named Gilbert Harper, wearing the surcoat of his master, was mistaken for him and slain; but the true leader was at length found by De Maupas, and struck down with the blow of a leaden plummet or slung-shot. After the battle, when the field was searched for his body, it was found under that of De Maupas, who had bravely yielded up life for life. The Hibemo- Scottish forces dispersed in dismay, and when King Robert of Scotland landed, a day or two afterwards, he was met by the fugitive men of Carrick, under their leader Thompson, who infoimed him of his brother's fate. He returned at once into his own country, carrying off the few Scottish survivors. The head of the impetuous Edward was sent to London, but the body was interred in the churchyard of Faughard, where, within 164 THE STORY OF IRELAND. living memory, a tall pillar stone was pointed out by every peasant in the neighbourliood as marking the grave of King Bruce''. Thus ended the first grand efi'ort of Ireland as an inde- pendent nation to expel the Anglo-Norman power. Never was so great an effort so brilliantly successful, yet even- tually defeated by means outside and beyond human skill to avert, or human bravery to withstand. The seasons fought against Ireland in this great crisis of her fate. A dreadful scourge struck down the country in the very moment of national triumph. The arm that was victorious in battle fell lifeless at the breath of this dread destroyer. To the singular and calamitous coincidence of a famine so terrible at such a critical moment for Ireland, and to this alone, was the ruin of the national cause attributable. The Irish under the king of their choice had, in three heavy campaigns, shown themselves able to meet and overcome the utmost force that could be brought against them. England had put forth her best energies and had been defeated. Prestige was rapidly multiplying the forces and increasing the moral and material resources of the Irish ; and but for the circumstances which compelled the retreat northwards from Limerick, reducing and disorganizing the national army, and leading in a long train of still greater evils, as far as human ken could see, the independent na- tionality of Ireland was triumphantly consolidated and hex freedom securely established. The battle of Faughard — or rather the fall of Edward under such circumstances — was a decisive termination of the whole struggle. The expected Scottish contingent ar- rived soon after ; but all was over, and it returned home. The English king, some years subsequently, took measures to guard against the recurrence of such a formidable danger as that which had so nearly wrested Ireland from his grasp — a Scoto-Irish alliance. On the 17th March, 1328, a treaty between England and Scotland was signed at Edinburgh, by which it wa? stipulated that, in the event of a rebellion against Scotland in Skye, Man, or the Islsinds J or agamst England in L^eland, the respective kings would not assist each other's "rebel subjects". Ireland THE STORY OF IRELA1^D. 165 had played for a great stake, and lost the game. The nation that had reappeared for a moment, again disap- peared, and once more the struggle against the English power was waged merely by isolated chiefs and princes, each one acting for himself alone. XXVI. HOW THE ANGLO-IRISH LORDS LEARNED TO PREFER IRISH MANNERS, LAWS, AND LANGUAGE, AND WERE BE- COMING ^^MORE IRISH THAN THE IRISH THEMSELVES". HOW THE KING IN LONDON TOOK MEASURES TO ARREST THAT DREADED EVIL. ^ ,y--\^ UT a new danger arose to the English power, w ^ It was not alone fresh armies and a constant stream of subsidies that England found it necessary to be pouring into Ireland, to insure the retention of the Anglo-Norman Colony. Something more became requisite now. It was found that a constant stream of fresh colonisation from England, a frequent change of governors, nay further, the most severe repressive laws, could alone keep the colony English in spirit, in interest, in language, laws, manners, and customs. The descen- dents of the early Anglo-Norman settlers — gentle and simple, lord and burgher — were becoming thoroughly Hibernicised. Notwithstanding the ceaseless warfare waged between the Norman lords and the Irish chiefs, it was found that the former were becoming absorbed into or fused with the native element. The middle of the fourteenth century found the Irish language and Brehon law, native Irish manners, habits, and customs, almost universally prevalent amongst the Anglo-Normans in Ireland; while marriage and "fosterage"— that most sacred domestic tie in Gaelic estimation — were becoming quite frequent between the noble families of each race. In fact the great lords and nobles of the Colony be- came Chieftains, and their families and following, Septs. 166 THB STORY OP IRELANIK Like the Irish chiefs, whom they imitated in most things, they fought against each other or against some native chief, or sided with either of them, if choice so deter- mined. Each earl or baron amongst them kept his bard and his brehon, like any native prince; and, in several instances, they began to drop their Anglo-Norman names and take Irish ones instead. It needed little penetration on the part of the king and his council in London, to discern in this state of things a peril far and away more formidable than any the English power had yet encountered in Ireland. True, the Anglo- Irish lords had always as yet professed allegiance to the English sovereign, and had, on the whole, so far helped forward the English designs. But it was easy to foresee that it would require but a few more years of this process of fusion with the native Irish race to make the Anglo- Irish element Irish in every sense. To avert this dreaded and now imminent evil, the London government resolved to adopt the most stringent measures. Amongst the first of these was a royal ordinance issued in 1341, declaring that whereas it had appeared to the King (Edward the Third) and his council that they would be better and more use- fully served in Ireland by Englishmen whose revenues were derived from England than by Irish or English who possessed estates only in Ireland, or were married there, the king's justiciary should therefore, after diligent in- quiries, remove all such officers as were married or held estates in Ireland, and replace them by fit Englishmen, having no personal interest whatever in Ireland. This ordinance set the Anglo-Irish colony in a fiame. Edward's lord-deputy. Sir John Morris, alarmed at its eflfect on the proud and powerful barons, summoned them to a parlia- ment to meet in Dublin to reason over the matter. But they t^ould have no reasoning with him. They contemp- tuously derided his summons, and called a parliament of their own, which, accordingly, met at Kilkenny in Novem- ber, 1342, whereat they adopted a strong remonstrance, and forwarded it to the king, complaining of the royal ordinance, and recriminating by alleging, that to the igno- rance and incapacity of the English officials, sent over THE STORY OF IRELAND. 167 from time to time to conduct the government of the colony, was owing to the fact that the native Irish had repossessed themselves of nearly all the land that had ever hitherto been wrested from them by " the gallant services of them- selves (the remonstrancers) or their ancestors". Edward was obliged to temporise. He answered this remonstrance graciously, and "played" the dangerous barons. But the policy of the ordinance was not relinquished. It was to be pushed on as opportunity offered. Eight years subsequent to the above proceedings — in 1360 — Lionel, son of king Edward, was sent over, as lord lieu- tenant. He brought with him a considerable army, and was to inaugurate the new system with great eclat. He had personal claims to assert as well as a state policy to carry out. By his wife, Elizabeth de Burgh, he succeeded to the empty titles of earl of Ulster and lord of Connaught, and the possessions supposed to follow them; but these were just then held by their rightful Irish owners, and one of Lionel's objects was to obtain them by force of arms for himself. Soon after landing he marched against "the Irish enemy", and, confident in the strength of newly- landed legions, he issued a proclamation "forbidding any of Irish birth to come near his army This arrogance was soon humbled. His vaunted English army was a failure. The Irish cut it to pieces ; and prince Lionel was obliged to abandon the campaign, and retreated to Dublin a prey to mortification and humiliation. His courtiers plied him with flatteries in order to cheer him. By a process not very intelligible, they argued that he conquered Clare, though O'Brien had utterly defeated him- there, and com- pelled him to fly to Dublin; and they manufactured for him out of this piece of adulatory invention the title of Clarence^\ But he only half-accepted these pleasant fictions, the falseness of which he knew too well. He recalled his arrogant and offensive proclamation, and be- sought the aid of the Anglo-Irish. To gain their favour he conferred additional titles and privileges on some of them, and knighted several of the most powerful com- moners. After an administration of seven years it was deemed high time for liionel to bring the new policy into 168 THE STORY OF IRELA^^D. greater prominence. In 1367 he conrened a parliament at Kilkenny y whereat he sncceeded in having passed that memorable statute known ever since in history as ^*The Statute of Kilkenny" — the first formal enactment in that "penal code of race" which was so elaborately developed by all subsequent English legislation for hundreds of years. The act sets out by reciting that, " Whereas, at the con- quest of the land of Ireland, and for a long time after, the English of the said land used the English language, mode of riding, and apparel, and were governed and ruled, both they and their subjects, called Betaghese (villeins) accord- ing to English law, etc . ; but now many English of the said land, forsaking the English language, manners, mode of riding, laws, and usages, live and govern themselves according to the manners, fashion, and language of the Irish enemies, and also have made divers marriages and alliances between themselves and the Irish enemies afore- said- it is therefore enacted (amongst other provisions), that all intermarriages, festerings, gossipred, and buying or selling with the enemy shall be accounted treason; that English names, fashions, and manners shall be resumed under penalty of the confiscation of the delinquent's'lands ; that March laws and Brehon laws are illegal, and that there shall be no law but English law; that the Irish shall not pasture their cattle on English lands ; that the English shall not entertain Irish rhymers, minstrels, or newsmen; and, moreover, that no *mere Irishman' shall be admitted to any ecclesiastical benefice or religious house situated within the English district". The Anglo-Irish barons must have been strangely over- awed or over-reached when they were brought to pass this statute ; several of themselves being at that moment answerable to all its penalties I Its immediate result, however, well nigh completed the ruin of the power it was meant to restore and strengthen. It roused the native Irish to a full conception of the English policy, and simul- taneously, though without the least concert, they fell upon the colony on all sides, drove in the outposts, destroyed the castles, hunted the barons, and reoccupied the country Tery nearly up to the walls of Dublin. O'Connor of THE STORY OF IRELAND. 169 Connact and O'Brien of Thomond," gays Hardiman, " laid aside for the moment their private feuds, and united against the common foe. The earl of Desmond, lord justice, marched against them with a considerable army, but was defeated and slain (captured) in a sanguinary engagement fought A.D. 1369, in the county of Limerick. O'Farrell, the chieftain of Annaly, committed great slaughter in Meath. The O'Mores, Cavanaghs, O'Byrnes, and O'Tooles, pressed upon Leinster, and the O'Neills raised the red arm in the north. The English of the Pale were seized with consternation and dismay, and terror and confusion reigned in their councils, while the natives continued to gain ground upon them in every direction. At this crisis an opportunity oifered such as had never before occurred, of terminating the dominion of the English in Ireland ; but if the natives had ever conceived such a project, they were never sufiBciently united to achieve it. The opportunity passed away, and the disunion of the Irish saved the colony.*' As for the obnoxious statute, it was found impossible to enforce it further. Cunning policy did not risk permanent defeat by pressing it at such a moment. It was allowed to remain ^'a dead letter" for a while; not dead, how- ever, but only slumbering. 170 THE STORY OF IRELAND. XXVII. HOW THE VAIN-GLORIOUS RICHARD OF ENGLAND AND HIS OVERWHELMING AKMY FAILED TO DAZZLE " OR CONQUER THE PRINCE OF LEIN8TER. CAREER OF THE HEROIC ART M^MURROGH. ^ -xo HE close of the cen- v^V^^^ tury which wit- ^ ' nessed the events !• have been mention- ing, brought about another ^'royal visit" to Ireland. The weak, vain, and pomp-loving Eichard the Second visited this country twice in the course of his ill- fated career — for the first time 1394. I would not deem either worth more than a passing word (for both of them were barren of results), were it not that they inter- weave with the story of the chivalrous Art M'Murrogh " Kavanagh", prince of Leinster, whose heroic figure stands out in glorious prominence on this page of Irish history. THE STORY OF IRELAND. ill If the M^Murroglis of Leinster in 1170 contributed to our national annals one character of evil fame, they were destined to give, two centuries later on, another, illustrious in all that ennobles or adorns the patriot, the soldier, or the statesman. Eva M'Murrogh^ daughter of Diarmid the Traitor, who married Strongbow the Freebooter, claimed to be only child of her father born in lawful wedlock. That there were sons of her father then living, was not questioned ; but she, or her husband on her behalf, setting up a claim of inheritance to Diarmid's possessions, im- pugned their legitimacy. However this may have been, the sept proceeded according to law and usage under the Irish constitution, to elect from the reigning family a suc- cessor to Diarmid, and they raised to the chieftaincy his son Donal. Thenceforth the name of M^Murrogh is heard of in Irish history only in connection with the bravest and boldest efforts of patriotism. Whenever a blow was to be struck for Ireland, the M^Murroghs were the readiest in the field — the " first in front and last in rear". They be- came a formidable barrier to the English encroachments, and in importance were not second to any native power in Ireland. In 1350 the sept was ruled by Art, or Arthur the First, father of our hero. "To carry on a war against him", we, are told, " the whole English interest was as- sessed with a special tax. Louth contributed twenty pounds, Meath and Waterford, two shillings on every carucate (140 acres) of tilled land; Kilkenny the same sum, with the addition of 6d. in the pound on chattels. This Art captured the strong castles of Kilbelle, Galbarstown, Kath- ville ; and although his career was not one of invariable success, he bequeathed to his son, also called Art, in 1375, an inheritance extending over a large portion — perhaps one-half — of the territory ruled by his ancestors before the invasion". From the same historian* I take the subjoined sketch of the early career of that son. Art the Second. "Art M^Murrogh, or Art Kavanagh, as he is commonly M'G«6. 172 THE STORY OF IRELAND. called, was bom in the year 1357, and from the age of sixteen and upwards was distinguished by his hospi- tality, knowledge, and feats of arms. Like the great Brian, he was a younger son, out the fortune of war re- moved one by one those who would otherwise have pre- ceded him in the captaincy of his clan and connections. About the year 1375 — while he was still under age — he was elected successor to his father, according to the an- nalists, who record his death in 1417, ^ after being forty- two years m the government of Leinster'. Fortunately he attained command at a period favourable to his genius and enterprise. His own and the adjoining tribes were aroused by tidings of success from other provinces, and the partial victories of their immediate predecessors, to entertain bolder schemes, and they only waited for a chief of distin- guished ability to concentrate their efforts. This chief they found, where they naturally looked for him, among the old ruling family of the province. Nor were the English settlers ignorant of his promise. In the parliament held at Castle- dermot in 1377, they granted to him the customary annual tribute paid to his house. . . . Art M^Murrogh the younger not only extended the bounds of his inheritance and im- posed tribute on the English settlers in adjoining districts during the first years of his rule, but having married a noble lady of the * Pale', Elizabeth, heiress to the barony of Norragh, in Kildare, which included Naas and its neigh- bourhood, he claimed her inheritance in full, though for- feited under Hhe statute of Kilkenny', according to Eng- lish notions. So necessary did it seem to the deputy and council of the day to conciliate their formidable neighbour, that they addressed a special representation to king Richard, setting forth the facts of the case, and adding that M^Mur- rogh threatened, until this lady's estates were restored and the arrears of tribute due to him fully discharged, he should never cease from war, ^ but would join with the Earl of Desmond against the Earl of Ormond, and afterwards re- turn with a great force out of Munster to ravage the country'. . . . By this time the banner of Art M^Murrogh floated over all the castles and raths on the slope of the Ridge of Leinster, or the steps of the Blackstair hills ; THE STORY OP IRELAND. 173 while tlie forests along the Bai-ro^ and the Upper Slaney, as well as in the plain of Carlow and in the south-western angle of Wicklow (now the barony of Shillelagh), served still better his purposes of defensive warfare. So entirely was the. range of country thus vaguely defined under na- tive sway, that John Griffin, the English bishop of Leighlin and chancellor of the exchequer, obtained a grant in 1389 of the town of Gulroestown, in the county of Dublin, ^ near the marches of O'Toole, seeing he could not live within his own see for the rebels'. In 1390, Peter Creagh, bishop of Limerick, on his way to attend an Anglo-Irish parliament, was taken prisoner in that region, and in consequence the usual fine was remitted in his favour. In 1392, James, the third earl of Ormond, gave M'Murrogh a severe check at Tiscoffin, near Shankill, where six hundred of his clans- men were left dead among the hills. " This defeat, however, was thrown into the shade by the capture of New Ross, on the very eve of Eichard's arrival at Waterford. In a previous chapter we have de- scribed the fortificvitions erected round this important sea- port towards the end of the thirteenth century. Since that period Its progress had been steadily onward. In the reign of Edward the Third the controversy which had long subsisted between the merchants of New Ross and those of Waterford, concerning the trade monopolies claimed by the latter, had been decided in favour of Ross. At this period it could muster in its own defence 363 cross bow- men, 1,200 long bowmen, 1,200 pikemen, and 104 horse- men — a force which would seem to place it second to Dub- lin in point of military strength. The capture of so im- portant a place by M^Murrogh was a cheering omen to his followers. He razed the walls and towers, and carried ofif gold, silver, and hostages". From the first sentence in the concluding passage of the foregoing extract it will be gathered, that it was at this junc- ture the vain-glorious Richard made his first visit to Ireland. He had just recently been a candidate for the imperial throne of the Germanic empire, and had been rejected in a manner most wounding to his pride So he formed the project of visiting Ireland with a display of pomp, power, and royal 174 THE STORY OF IRELAND. splendour, such as had not been seen in Europe for a long time, and would, he was firmly persuaded, enable him to accomplish the complete subjugation of the Irish kingdom after the manner of that Eoman general who came and saw and conquered. Early in October he landed at Waterford with a force of 80,000 bowmen and 4,000 men-at-arms ; a force in those days deemed ample to over-run and conquer the strongest kingdom, and far exceeding many that suf- ficed to change the fate of empires previously and subse- quently in Europe. This vast army was transported across channel in a fleet of some three hundred ships or galleys. Great pains were taken to provide the expedition with all the appliances and features of impressive pageantry ; and in the king's train, as usual, came the chief nobles of Eng- land — his uncle, the duke of Gloster, the young earl of March (heir apparent), and of earls and lords a goodly attendance, besides several prelates, abbots, and other ecclesiastical dignitaries. But with this vast expedition king Eichard accomplished in Ireland just as much as that king in the ballad, who "marched up the hill, and then marched down again". He rehearsed king Henry and king John on Irish soil. The Irish princes were invited to visit their "friend" the mighty and puissant king of Eng- land. They did visit him, and were subjected, as of old, to the "dazzling" process. They were patronizingly fondled; made to understand that their magnanimous suzerain was a most powerful, and most grand, -and most gorgeous potentate, own brother of the Sun and Moon. They accepted his flattering attentions ; but they did not altogether so clearly understand or accept a proposition he made them as to surrendering their lands and chief- taincies to him, and receiving, instead, royal pensions and English titles from his most gracious hand. Many of the Irish princes yielded, from one motive or another, to this insidious proposition. But foremost amongst those who could not be persuaded to see the excellence of this ar- rangement was the young prince of Leinster, whose fame had already filled the land, and whose victories had made the English king feel ill at ease. Art would not come to "court" to reason over the matter with the bland and THE STORY OF IRELAND 175 puissant king. He was obdurate. He resisted all " daz- zling". He mocked at the royal pageants, and snapped his fingers at the brother of the Sun and Moon. All this was keenly mortifying to the vain-glorious Richard. There was nothing for it but to send a royal commissioner to treat with Art. He accordingly despatched the earl mar- shall (Mowbray) to meet and treat with the prince of Leinster. On the plain of Balligory, near Carlow, the conference took place, Art being accompanied by his uncle Malachi. The earl marshall soon found that he had in Art a statesman as well as a soldier to treat with. Art proudly refused to treat with an inferior. If he was to treat at all, it should be with the king himself! Mow bray had to bend to this humiliating rebuff and try to palaver the stern M^Murrogh. In vain ! Art's final answer was, that ^*so far from yielding his own lands, his wife's patrimony in Kildare should instantly be restored to him; or ". Of course this broke up the conference. The earl marshall returned with the unwelcome news to the king, who flew into a rage ! What ! He, the great, the courtly, the puissant, and gorgeous king Eichard of England, thus haughtily treated by a mere Irish prince ! By the toe-nails of William the Conqueror, this astounding conduct should meet a dreadful cJiastisement I He would wipe out this haughty prince I The defiant M^Murrogh should be made to feel the might of England's royal arm ! So, putting himself at the head of his grand army, king Richard set out wrathfully to annihilate Art. But the Lagenian chief soon taught him a bitter lesson. Art's superior military genius, the valour of his troops, and the patriotism of the population, soon caused the vastness of the invading English host to be a weakness, not a strength. Richard found his march tedious and tardy. It was impossible to make in that strange and hostile country commissariat arrangements for such an enormous army. Impenetrable forests and impassable bogs were varied only by mountain defiles defended with true Spartan heroism by the fearless M^Murrogh clansmen. Then the weather broke into severity awful to endure. Fodder for the horses, food for the men, now became the sole objects of 176 THE STORY OF IRELAND. each day's labour on the part of king Eichard's grand army ; but", says the historian, " M'Murrogh swept off everything of the nature of food — took advantage of his knowledge of the country to burst upon the enemy by night, to entrap them into ambuscades, to separate the cavalry from the foot, and by many other stratagems to thin their ranks and harass the stragglers". In fine, king Richard's splendid army, stuck fast in the Wicklow moun- tains, was a wreck : while the vengeful and victorious Lagenians hovered around, daily growing more daring in their disastrous assaults. Eichard found there was nothing for it but to supplicate Art, and obtain peace at any price. A deputation of " the Engli&h and Irish of Leinster" was despatched to him by the king, making humble apologies and inviting him to a conference with his majesty in Dub- lin, where, if he would thus honour the king, he should be the royal guest, and learn how highly his valour and wis- dom were esteemed by the English sovereign. Art acceded, and permitted Eichard to make his way in peace north- ward to Dublin, crestfallen and defeated, with the relics of his grand army and the tattered rags of the gilt silk banners, the crimson canopies and other regal "properties" that were to have " dazzled" the sept of M^Murrogh. Art, a few months afterwards followed, according to in- vitation; but he had not been long in Dublin — where Eichard had by great exertions once more established a royal court with all its splendours — when he found him- self in the hands of treacherous and faithless foes. He was seized and imprisoned on a charge of "conspiring" against the king. Nevertheless, Eichard found that he dared not carry cut the base plot of which this was meant to be the beginning. He had already got a taste of what he might expect if he relied on fighting to conquer Ireland; and, on reflection, he seems to have decided that the over- reaching arts of diplomacy, and the seductions of court life were pleasanter modes of extending his nominal sway, than conducting campaigns like that in which he had already lost a splendid army and tarnished the tinsel of his vain prestige. So Art was eventually set at liberty, but three of his neighbouring fellow-chieftains were re- THE STORY OF IRELAND. 177 tained as " hostages" for him ; and it is even said, that before he was released, some form or promise of submis- sion was extorted from him by the treacherous hosts" who had so basely violated the sanctity of hospitality to which he had frankly trusted. Not long after, an attempt was made to entrap and murder him in one of the Norman border castles, the owner of which had invited him to a friendly feast. As M'-Murrogh was sitting down to the banquet, it happened that the quick eye of his bard detected in the courtyard outside certain movements of troops that told him at once what was afoot. He knew that if he or his master openly and suddenly manifested their discovery of the danger, they were lost ; their perfidious hosts would slay them at the board. Striking his harp to an old Irish air, the minstrel commenced to sing to the music ; but the words in the Gaelic tongue soon caught the ear of M^Mur- rogh. They warned him to be calm, circumspect, yet ready and resolute, for that he was in the toils of the foe. The prince divined all in an instant. He maintained a calm demeanour until, seizing a favourable pretext for reaching the yard, he sprang to horse, dashed through his foes, and, sword in hand, hewed his way to freedom. This second instance of perfidy completely persuaded M^Mur- rogh that he was dealing with faithless foes, whom no bond of honour could bind, and with whom no truce was safe ; so, unfurling once more the Lagenian standard, he declared war a la mort against the English settlement. It was no light struggle he thus inaugurated . Alone, un- aided, he challenged and fought for twenty years the full power of England ; in many a dearly bought victory prov- ing himself truly worthy of his reputation as a master of military science. The ablest generals of England were one by one sent to cope with him ; but Art outmatched them in strategy and outstripped them in valour. In the second year's campaign the strongly fortified frontier town and castle of Carlowfell before him ; and in the next year (20th July, 1398) was fought the memorable battle of Kenlis. Here", says a historian, **fell the heir presumptive to the English crown, whose premature removal was one of the causes which contributed to the revolution in England a 12 178 THE STORY OF IRELANT>. year or two later".* Wo can well credit the next succeed- ing observation of the historian just quoted, that "the tidings of this event filled the Pale with consternation, and thoroughly aroused the vindictive temper of Richard. He at once despatched to Dublin his half-brother, the earl of Kent, to whom he made a gift of Carlow castle and town, to be held (if taken) by knight's service. He then, as much perhaps to give occupation to the minds of his people as to prosecute his old project of subduing Ireland, began to make preparations for his second expedition thither". XXVIII. — HOW THE VAIN-GLORIOUS ENGLISH KING TRIED ANOTHER CAMPAIGN AGAINST THE INVINCIBLE IRISH PRINCE, AND WAS UTTERLY DEFEATED AS BEFORE. F this second expedition of King Richard there is extant an account written by a Frenchman who was in his train. In all its main features expedition number two was a singular repeti- JBi^lS^ tion of expedition number one; vast prepara- tions and levies of men and materials, ships and armaments, as if for the invasion and sub- jugation of one of the most powerful empires of the world; gorgeous trappings, courtly attendants, and all the necessaries for renewed experiments with the royal "dazzling" policy. Landing at Waterford, Richard, at the head of his panoplied host, marched against M'Mur- rogh, who, to a lofty and magniloquent invitation to seek the king's gracious clemency, had rudely replied, "that he would neither submit nor obey him in any way ; and that he would never cease ^rom war and the defence of his country until his death''. To the overawing force of the English king. Art had, as the French narrator in- forms us, just "three thousand hardy men, who did not appear to he much afraid of the English". M^Murrogh's ♦ M'Gce. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 179 tactics were tliose which had stood him in such good stead on the previous occasion. He remoyed all the cattle and corn, food and fodder of every kind, as well as the women, children, aged, and helpless of his people, into the interior, while he himself, at the head of his Spartan hand, "few, but undismayed", took up a position at Idrone awaiting the invaders. Once more Kichard found his huge army entangled in impenetrable forests, hemmed in by bogs, morass, and mountain — M^Murrogh fighting and retiring with deadly craft to draw him deeper and deeper into difficulty, "harassing him dreadfully, carrying off every- thing fit for food for man or beast, surprising and slaying his foragers, and filling his camp nightly with alarm and blood". A crumb of consolation greatly regarded by the mortified and humiliated English king was the appearance one day in his camp of Art's uncle giving in submission, supplicating for himself "pardon and favour". This Richard only too joyfully granted; and, allowing the in- cident to persuade him that Art himself might also be wavering, a royal message was sent to the Leinster prince assuring him of free pardon, and "castles and lands in abundance elsewhere", if only he would submit. The Frenchman records M^Murrogh's reply: "MacMor told the king's people that for all the gold in the world he would not submit himself, but would continue to war and endamage the king in all that he could". This ruined Richard's last hope of anything like a fair pretext for abandoning his enterprise. He now relinquished all idea of assailing M^Murrogh, and marched as best he could towards Dublin, his army meanwhile suffering fearfully from famine. After some days of dreadful privation they reached the sea-shore at Arklow, where ships with pro- visions from Dublin awaited them. The soldiers rushed into the sea to reach at the food, fought for it ravenously, and drank all the wine they could seize. Soon after this timely relief, a still more welcome gleam of fortune fell upon the English host. A messenger arrived from Art expressing his willingness to meet some accredited am- bassador from the king and discuss the matters at issue between them. Whereupon, says the chronicler, there 180 THE STORY OF IRELAND. was great joy in the English camp. The earl of Gloster was at once despatched to treat with Art. The French knight was among the earl's escort, and witnessed the meeting, of which he has left a quaint description. He describes Art as a " fine large man, wondrously active. To look at him he seemed very stern and savage and a very able man". The horse which Art rode especially trans- fixed the Frenchman's gaze. He declares, that a steed more exquisitely beautiful, more marvellously fleet, he had never beheld. In coming down it galloped so hard, that, in my opinion, I never saw hare, deer, sheep, or any other animal, I declare to you for a certainty, run with such speed as it did". This horse Art rode without housing or saddle", yet sat like a king, and guided with utmost ease in the most astounding feats of horsemanship. " He and the earl", the Frenchman tells, "exchanged much discourse, but did not come to agreement. They took short leave and hastily parted. Each took his way apart, and the earl returned to king Richard". The announce- ment brought by his ambassador was a sore disappointment to the king. Art would only agree to " peace without reserve"; "otherwise he will never come to agreement". "This speech", continues the Frenchman, "was not agree- able to the king. It appeared to me that his face grew pale with anger. He swore in great wrath by St. Ber- nard that no, never would he depart from Ireland till, alive or dead, he had him in his power". Rash oath — soon broken. Little thought Richard when he so hotly swore against Art in such impotent anger, that he would have to quit Ireland, leaving Art free, uncon- quered, and defiant, while he returned to England only to find himself a crownless monarch, deposed and friendless, in a few brief days subsequently to meet a treacherous and cruel death in Pontefract castle ! All this, however, though near at hand, was as yet in the unforeseen future ; and Richard, on reaching Dublin, devoted himself once more to "dazzling" revels there. But while he feasted he forgot not his hatred of the in- domitable M'Murrogh. " A hundred marks in pure gold" were publicly proclaimed by the king to any one who THE STORV OF IRELAND. 181 should bring to him in Dublin, alive or dead^ the defiant prince of Leinster; against whom, moreover, the army, divided into three divisions, were despatched upon a new campaign. Soon the revels and marchings were abruptly interrupted by sinister news from England. A formidable rebellion had broken out there, headed by the banished Lancaster. Richard marched southward with all speed to take shipping at Waterford, collecting on the way the several divisions of his army. He embarked for England, but arrived too late. His campaign against Art M^Mur- rogh had cost him his crown, eventually his life; had changed the dynasty in England, and seated the house of Lancaster upon the throne. For eighteen years subsequently the invincible Art reigned over his inviolate territory ; his career to the last being a record of brilliant victories over every expedition sent against it. As we wade through the crowded annals of those years, his name is ever found in connection with some gallant achievement. Wherever else the fight is found going against Ireland, whatever hand falters or falls in the unbroken struggle, in the mountains of Wick- low there is one stout arm, one bold heart, one glorious intellect, ever nobly daring and bravely conquering in the cause of native land. Art, "whose activity defied the chilling effects of age, poured his cohorts through ScuUoge Gap on the garrisons of Wexford, taking in rapid succes- sion in one campaign (1406) the castles of Camolins, Ferns, and Enniscorthy. A few years subsequently his last great battle, probably the most serious engagement of his life, was fought by him against the whole force of the Pale under the walls of Dublin. The duke of Lancaster,, son of the king and lord lieutenant of Ireland, issued orders for the concentration of a powerful ari^y for an expedition southwards against M'Murrogh's allies. But M^Murrogh and the mountaineers of Wicklow now felt themselves strong enough to take the initiative. They crossed the plain which lies to the north of Dublin, and encamped at Kilmainham, where Roderick, when he be- sieged the city, and Brian before the battle of Clontarf, had pitched their tents of old. The English and Anglo- 182 THE STORY OF IRELAND. Irish forces, under the eye of their prince, marched out to dislodge them, in four divisions. The firstVas led by the duke in person ; the second by the veteran knight, Jenicho d'Artois; the third by Sir Edward Ferrers, an English knight ; and the fourth by Sir Thomas Butler, prior of the order of St. John, afterwards created by Henry the Fifth, for his distinguished service, earl of Kilmain. With M^Murrogh were O'Byrne, O'Nolan, and other chiefs, be- sides his sons, nephews, and relatives. The numbers on each side could hardly fall short of ten thousand men, and the action may be fairly considered one of the most deci- sive of those times. The duke was carried back wounded into Dublin ; the slopes of Inchicore and the valley of the Liffey were strewn with the dying and the dead ; the river at that point obtained from the Leinster Irish the name of Athcroe, or the ford of slaughter; the widowed city was filled with lamentation and dismay". This was the last endeavour of the English powei against Art. " While he lived no further attacks were made upon his kindred or country'*. He was not, alas ! destined to enjoy long the peace he had thus conquered from his powerful foes by a forty-four years' war ! On the 12th of January, 1417, he died at Eoss in the sixtieth year of age, many of the chroniclers attributing his death to poison ad- ministered in a drink. Whether the enemies whom he had so often vanquished in the battle-field resorted to such foul means of accomplishing his removal, is, however, only a matter of suspicion, resting mainly on the fact, that his chief brehon, O'Doran, who with him had partaken of a drink given them by a woman on the wayside as they pas- sed, also died on the same day, and was attacked with like symptoms. Leeches' skill was vain to save the heroic chief. His grief-stricken people followed him to the grave, well knowing and keenly feeling that in him they had lost their invincible tower of defence. He had been called to the chieftaincy of Leinster at the early age of sixteen years ; and on the very threshold of his career had to draw the sword to defend the integrity of his principality. From that hour to the last of his battles, more than forty years subsequently, he proved himself one of the most consum- THE STOR'S OF IRELAND, 183 mate military tacticians of his time. Again and again he met and defeated the proudest armies of England, led by the ablest generals of the age. He was", say the Four Masters, ^ a man distinguished for his hospitality, know- ledge, and feats of arms; a man full of prosperity and royalty; a founder of churches and monasteries by his bounties and contributions". In fine, our history enume- rates no braver soldier, no nobler character, than Art M^Murrogh " Kavanagh", prince of Leinster. XIIX.— HOW THE CIVIL WARS IN ENGLAND LEFT THE ANGLO-IRISH COLONY TO RUIN. HOW THE IRISH DID NOT GRASP THE OPPORTUNITY OF EASY LIBERATION. ITHIN the hundred years next succeeding the events we have just traced — the period em- braced between 1420 and 1520 — England was !r J convulsed by the great civil war of the White and pjljl^-J'Eed Koses, the houses of York and Lancaster. J^^^\d Irish history during the same period being chiefly "^^Wy^^^ ^ record of the contest for mastery between the two principal families of the Pale — the Butlers ard the Geraldines. During this protracted civil strug- g'e, which bathed England in blood, the colony in Ireland hid, of course, to be left very much to its own resources ; aid, as a natural consequence, its dimensions gradually ontracted, or rather it ceased to have any defined boun- ty at all, and the merest exertion on the part of the Irish must have sufficed to sweep it away completely. Here was, in fine, the opportunity of opportunities for the lative population, had they but been in a position to avail )f it, or had they been capable of profiting by any oppor- iiuity, to accomplish with scarcely an effort the complete deliverance of their country. England was powerless for aggression, torn, distracted, wasted, paralysed, by a pro- tracted civil war. The lords of the Pale were equally dis- united and comparatively helpless. One-hundredth part 184 THE STORY OF IRELAND, of the exertion put forth so bravely, yet so vainly, by the native princes in the time of Donald O'Neil and Eobert Bruce would have more than sufficed them now to sweep from the land every vestige of foreign rule. The chain hung so loosely that they had but to arise and shake it from their limbs. They literally needed but to will it, and they were free ! Yet not an effort, not a movement, not a motion, during all this time — while this supreme opportunity was passing away for ever — was made by the native Irish to grasp the prize thus almost thrust into their hand — the prize of national freedom! They had boldly and bravely striven for it heforey when no such opportunity invited them; they were subsequently to strive for it yet again with valour aid daring as great, when every advantage would be arrayed against them. But now, at the moment when they had bat to reach out their hand and grasp the object of all th(ir endeavours, they seemed dead to all conceptions of duty or policy. The individual chiefs, north, south, east, aid west, lived on in the usual way. They fought each other or the neighbouring Anglo-Norman lord just as usual, ^r else they enjoyed as a pleasant diversification a spell of tranquillity, peace, and friendship. In the relations be- tween the Pale and the Irish ground there was, for tie time, no regular government policy" of any kind on either hand. Each Anglo-Norman lord, and each Irish chieftaii, did very much as he himself pleased ; made peace or wa* with his neighbours, or took any side he listed in the cui- rent conflicts of the period. Some of the Irish princes d) certainly appear to have turned this time of respite to ; good account, if not for national interests, for other no. less sacred interests. Many of them employed their lives during this century in rehabilitating religion and learning in all their pristine power and grandeur. Science and literature once more began to flourish ; and the shrines of Eome and Compostello were thronged with pilgrim chiefs and princes, paying their vows of faith, from the Western Isle. Within this period lived Margaret of Offaly, the beautiful and accomplished queen of 0' Carroll, king of Ely. She and her husband were munificent patrons of THE STORY OF IRELAND. 185 literature, art, and science. On queen Margaret's special invitation the literati of Ireland and Scotland, to the num- ber of nearly three thousand, held a "session" for the furtherance of literary and scientific interests, at her palace, near Killeagh, in Offaly, the . entire assemblage being the guests of the king and queen during their stay. "The nave of the great church of Da Sinchell was converted, for the occasion, into a banqueting hall, where Margaret her- self inaugurated the proceedings by placing two massive chalices of gold, as offerings, on the high altar, and com- mitting two orphan children to the charge of nurses to be fostered at her charge. Eobed in cloth of gold, this illus- trious lady, who was as distinguished for her beauty as for her generosity, sat in queenly state in one of the galle- ries of the church, surrounded by the clergy, the brehons, and her private friends, shedding a lustre on the scene which was passing below, while her husband, who had often encountered England's greatest generals in battle, remained mounted on a charger outside the church to bid the guests welcome, and see that order was preserved. The invitations were issued, and the guests arranged, ac- cording to a list prepared by O'Connor's chief brehon; and the second entertainment, which took place at Rathangan, was a supplemental one, to embrace such men of learning as had not been brought together at the former feast". XXX. — HOW A NEW ELEMENT OP ANTAGONISM CAME INTO THE STRUGGLE. HOW THE ENGLISH ItING AND NATION ADOPTED A NEW RELIGION, AND HOW THE IRISH HELD FAST BY THE OLD. HE time was now at hand when, to the existing ^^^<^^^ elements of strife and hatred between the Irish and the English nations, there was to be added one more fierce than all the rest ; one bitterly intensifying the issues of battle already knit with such deadly vehemence between the Celt and the Saxon. Christendom was being rent in twain by a terrible convulsion. A new reli- 186 THE STORT OF IRELAND. gion had flung aloft the stanaard of revolt and revolution against the successors of St. Peter; and the Christian world was being divided into two hostile camps— of the old faith and the new. This was not the mere agitation of new theo- ries of subverting tendencies, pushed and preached with vehemence to the overturning of the old ; but the crash of a politico-religious revolution, bursting like the eruption of a volcano, and as suddenly spreading confusion and change far and wide. The political policy and the personal aims and interests of kings and princes gave to the new doc- trines at their very birth a range of dominion greater than original Christianity itself had been able to attain in a century. Almost instantaneously, princes and magnates grasj)«d at the new theories according as personal or state policy dictated. To each and all of them those theories offered one most tempting and invaluable advantage — supremacy^ spiritual and temporal, unshadowed, unre- strained, unaccountable, and irresponsible on earth. No more of vexing conflicts with the obstinate Roman Pon- tiffs. No more of supplications to the Holy See with whispering breath and bated humbleness", if a divorce was needed or a new wife sighted while yet the old one was alive. No more of humiliating submissions to the penances or conditions imposed by that antique tribunal in the Eternal City; but each one a king, spiritual as well as temporal, in his own dominions. Who would not hail such a system ? There was perhaps not one amongst the kings of Europe who had not, at one time or another, been made to feel unpleasantly the restraint put on him by the Pope, acting either as spiritual pontiff or in his capacity of chief arbiter in the disputes of the Christian family. Some- times, though rarely, this latter function — entirely of hu- man origin and authority — seemed to sink into mere state policy, and like all human schemes had its varying charac- teristics of good and ill. But that which most frequently brought the Popes into conflict with the civil rulers of the world was the striving of the Holy See to mitigate the evils of villeinage or serfdom appertaining to the feudal system ; to restrain by the spiritual authority the lawless violence and passion of feudal lords and kings ; and, above all, to THE STORY OF IRELAND. 187 maintain the sanctity and inyiolability of the marriage tie, whether in the cottage of the bondman or in the palace of the king. To many of the European sovereigns, therefore, the newly propounded system — (which I am viewing solely as it affected the public policy of individual princes, pre- scinding entirely from its doctrinal aspect) — held forth powerful attractions ; yet amongst the Teutonic principali- ties by the Ehine alone was it readily embraced at first. So far, identity of faith had prevailed between England and Ireland; albeit English churchmen — archbishops, bishops, priests, and monks — waged the national war in their own way against the Irish hierarchy, clergy, and people, as hotly as the most implacable of the military chiefs. With the cessation of the civil war in England, and the restoration of English national power during the reign of the seventh Henry, the state policy of strength- ening and extending the English colony in Ireland was vigorously resumed ; and the period which witnessed the outbreak of the religious revolution in Germany found the sensual and brutal Henry the Eighth engaged in a savage war upon the Irish nation. Henry early entered the lists against the new doctrines. He wrote a controversial pamphlet in refutation of Luther's dogmas, and was re- warded therefor by an encomiastic letter from the Pope conferring on him the title of " Defender of the Faith". Indeed, ever since the time of Adrian, the Popes had always been wondrously friendly towards the English kings; much too ready to give them "aid and comfort" In their schemes of Irish subjugation, and much too little regardful of the heroic people that were battling so per- sistently in defence of their nationality. A terrible lesson was now to awaken Eome to remorse and sorrow. The power she had aided and sanctioned in those schemes was to turn from her with unblushing apostacy, and be- come the most deadly and malignant of her foes ; while that crushed and broken nation whom she had uninqui- ringly given up to be the prey of merciless invaders, was to shame this ingratitude and perfidy by a fidelity and de- fotedness not to be surpassed in the history of the world. Henry — creature of mere animal passions — tired of 188 THE STORY OF IRELAND. his lawful wife, and desired another. He applied to Rome for a divorce. He was, of course, refused. He pressed his application again in terms that but too plainly fore- shadowed to the Supreme Pontiff what the result of a refusal might be. It was, no doubt, a serious contingency for the Holy See to contemplate — the defection to the new religion of a king and a nation so powerful as the English. In fact, it would give to the new creed a status and a power it otherwise would not possess. To avert this dis- aster to Catholicity it was merely required to wrong one woman ; merely to permit a lustful king to have his way, and sacrifice to his brute passions his helpless wife. With full consciousness, however, of all that the refusal implied, the Holy See refused to permit to a king that which could not be permitted to the humblest of his subjects — refused to allow a wife's rights to be sacrificed, even to save to the side of Catholicity for three centuries the great and powerful English nation. Henry had an easy way out of the difficulty. Accord- . ing to the new system, he would have no need to incur such mortifying refusals from this intractable, antiquated, and unprogressive tribunal at Eome, but could grant to himself divorces and dispensations ad libitum. So he threw off the Pope's authority, embraced the new religion, and helped himself to a new wife as often as he pleased; merely cutting off the head of the discarded one after he had granted himself a divorce from her. In a country where feudal institutions and ideas pre- vailed, a king who could appease the lords carried the nation. In England, at this period, the masses of the people, though for some time past by the letter of the law freed from villeinage, were still, practically, the creatures of the lords and barons, and depended upon, looked up to, and followed them with the olden stolid docility. Henry, of course, though he might himself have changed as he listed, could never have carried the nation over with him into the new creed, had he not devised a means for giving the lords and barons also a material interest iu tiie change. This he effected by sharing? with then^ the rich plunder of the Church. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 189 Few amongst the English nobility were proof against the great temptations of kingly favour and princely estates, and the great perils of kingly anger and confiscations. For, in good truth, even at a very early stage of the business, to hesitate was to lose life as well as possessions, inasmuch as Henry unceremoniously chopped off the heads of those who wavered or refused to join him in the new movement. The feudal system carried England bodily over with the king. Once he was able to get to his side (by proposing liberal bribes out of the plundered abbey lands) a sufl5cient number of the nobles, the game was all in his hands. The people counted for nothing in such a system. They went to their lords, like the cattle stock on the estates. The English bishops, mostly scions of the noble houses, were not greatly behind in the corrupt and cowardly acceptance of the king's scheme ; but there were in the episcopacy noble and glorious exceptions to this spectacle of baseness. The body of the clergy, too, made a brave struggle for a time ; but the king and the nobles made light of what they could do. A brisk ap- plication of the axe and the block — a rattling code of penalties forpremunire and sofoith — and soon the trouble- some priests were all either killed off or banished. But now, thought Henry, what of Ireland ! How is the revolution likely to be received by the English colony there ? In truth, it w^as quite a ticklish consideration ; and Henry appears to have apprehended very nearly that which actually resulted — namely, that in proportion as the Anglo-Irish lords had become Hibernicised, they would resist that revolution, and stand by the old faith ; while those of them least imbued with Irish sentiment would proportionately be on his side. Amongst the former, and of all others most coveted now and feared for their vast influence and power, were the Gepaldines. Scions of that great house had been amongst the earliest to drop their distinctive character as Anglo-Norman lords, and become Anglo-Irish chiefs — adopting the institutions, laws, language, manners, and customs of the native Irish. For years the head of the family had been kept on the side of the English power simply by confiding to him its supreme 190 THE STORY OF IRELAND. control in Ireland; but of the Irish sympathies of Clan Gerald, Henry had misgivings sore, and ruefully suspected now that it would lead the van in a powerful struggle in Ireland against his politico-religious revolution. In fact, at the very moment in which he was plunging into his revolt against the Pope, a rebellion, led by a Geraldine chief, was shaking to its foundations the English power in Ireland — the rebellion of Silken Thomas". XXXI. THOSE GERALDINES! THOSE GERALDINES!" coX- history of the Geraldine family is a per- f^^jc^^g^ feet romance, and in many respects out- rivals the creations of fiction. From the earliest period of their settlement in Ireland they at- tained to a position of almost kingly power, and for full five hundred years were the foremost figures in Anglo-Irish history. Yet with what changing fortunes ! Now vice-kings reigning in Dublin, their vast estates stretching from Maynooth to Lixnaw, their strong castles sentinelling the land from sea to sea ! Anon captive victims of attainder, stripped of every earthly honour and possession ; to-day in the dun- geon, to-morrow led to the scaffold ! Now a numerous and powerful family — a fruitful, strong, and wide-spread- ing tree. Anon hewn down to earth, or plucked up seem- ingly root and branch, beyond the possibility of further existence ; yet mysteriously preserved and budding forth from some single seedling to new and greater power I Often the Geraldine stock seemed extinct ; frequently its jealous enemies — the English king or his favourites — made safe and sure (as they thought) that the dangerous line was extirpated. Yet as frequently did they find it mira- culously resurgent, grasping all its ancient power and re- newing all its ancient glory. At a very early period the Geraldine line was verj nearly cut off for ever, but was preserved in the person dL THE STORY OF IRELAND. 191 one infant child, i;nder circumstances worthy of narration. In the year 1261 a pitched battle was fought between the justiciary, Lord Thomas Fitzgerald, and the MacCarthy More, at a glen a few miles east of Kenmare in Kerry. It was a formidable engagement, in which each side put forth all its resources of military generalship and strength of levies. The Irish commander completely out-generalled the Normans. At the close of a protracted and sanguinary battle they were routed with fearful slaughter, Lord Thomas being mortally wounded, and his son, besides numerous barons and knights, left dead upon the field. **Alas!" continues the narratiye of O'Daly (who wrote in the year 1655), "the whole family of the Geraldines had well nigh perished ; at one blow they were cut off — father and son ; and now there remained but an infant one year old, to wit, the son of John Fitz-Thomas, recently slain. The nurse, who had heard the dismal tidings at Tralee, ran about here and there distraught with grief, and left the cradle of the young Geraldine without a watcher; there- upon an ape (which was kept for amusement sake) came and raised the ^'nfant out of the cradle and carried him to the top of the castle. There, to the astonishment of those who passed by, the ape took off the babe's swaddling clothes, licked him all over, clothed him again, and brought him back to his cradle safe and sound. Then coming to the nurse, as it were in reproof for her neglect, he dealt her a blow. Ever after was that babe called Thomas a rC Appa; that is, ^of the Ape'; and when he grew to man's 'estate he was ennobled by many virtues. Bravely did he avenge his father's and grandfather's murder, and- reerect the fortunes of his house.* He left a son, Maurice Fitz-Thomas, who was the first earl of Desmond". Of Lord Thomas, the sixth earl, is related a romantic, yet authentic story, known to many Irish readers. While on a hunting expedition in some of the lonely and pictu- resque glens in North Kerry, he was benighted on his * To this incident is attributed the circumstance that the armorial ^ ensigns of the Geraldine family exhibit two apes as supporters. 192 THE STORY OF IRELAND. homeward way. Weary and thirsting, he urged his steed forward through the tangled wood. At length, through the gloom he discerned close by an humble cottage, which proved to be the dwelling of one of his own retainers or clansmen, named MacCormick. Lord Thomas rode to the door, halted, and asked for a drink. His summons was attended to and his request supplied by Catherine, the daughter of the cottager, a young girl whose simple grace and exquisite beauty struck the young earl with astonish- ment — and with warmer feelings too. He dismounted and rested awhile in the cottage, and became quite charmed with the daughter of its humble host. He bade her farewell, resolving to seek that cottage soon again. Often subse- quently his horse bore him thither; for Lord Thomas loved Catherine MacCormick, and loved her purely and honour- ably. Not perhaps without certain misgivings as to the results did he resolve to make her wife; yet never did he waver in that resolve. In due time he led the beau- tiful cottage girl to the altar, and brought her home his wife. His worst fears were quickly realised. His kindred and clansmen all rose against him for this mesalliance, which, ac- cording to their code, forfeited for him* lands and title! In vain he pleaded. An ambitious uncle, James, eventually seventh earl, led the movement against him, and, claim- ing for himself the title and estates thus "forfeited", was clamorous and uncompassionate. Lord Thomas at the last nobly declared that even on the penalty thus inex- orably decreed against him, he in no wise repented him of his marriage, and that he would give up lands and titles rather than part his peasant wife. Eelinquishing every- thing, he bade an eternal adieu to Ireland, and sailed with his young wife for France, where he died at Rouen in 1420. This romantic episode of authentic history fur- nished our national melodist with the subject of the follow- ing verses : By the Feal's wave benighted, No star in the skies, To thy door by love lightevl« I first saw those eyert. THE STORY OP IRELAND. 193 Some voice wMspered o'er me, As the threshold I cross'd, There was ruin before me; If T lov'd, I was lost. Love came, and brought sorrow Too soon in his train; Yet so sweet, that to-morrow 'T were welcome again ! Though misery's full measure My portion should be, I would drain it with pleasure If poured out by thee! You, who call it dishonour To bow to love's flame. If you 've eyes, look but on her, And blush while you blame. Hath the pearl less whiteness Because of its birth? Hath the violet less brightness For growing near earth? No: man for his glory To ancestry flies; But woman's bright story Is told in her eyes. While the monarch but traces Through mortals his line, Beauty, born of the graces, Ranks next to divine! In the reign of the eighth Henry, as well as for a long time previous thereto, the Geraldine family comprised two great branches, of which the earl of Desmond and the earl of Kildare were respectively the heads ; the latter being paramount. Early in Henry's reign Gerald earl of Kil- dare, or " The Great Earl", as he is called in the Irish annals, died after a long life, illustrious as a soldier, states- man, and ruler. He was succeeded by his son, Garret Oge, or Gerald the younger, who was soon appointed by the crown to the high office and authority of lord deputy as vested in his father. Gerald Oge found his enemies at court active and restless in plotting his overthrow. He had more than once to proceedi to England to make his defence against fatal charges, but invariably succeeded in yindicating himself with the king. With Henry, indeed, 13 194 THE STORY OF IRELAND. he was apparently rather a favourite ; while, on the other hand, Cardinal Wolsey viewed him with marked suspicion. Kildare, though at the head of the English power in Ire- land, was, like many of the Geraldines, nearly as much of an Irish chief as an English noble. Not only was he, to the sore uneasiness of the court at London, in friendly alliance with many of the native princes, but he was allied by the closest ties of kindred and alliance with the royal houses of Ulster. So proud was he of this relationship, that, upon one occasion, when he was being reinstated as lord deputy, to the expulsion of Ormond, his accusing enemy, we are told, that at Kildare's request ^'his Jcinsman, Con O'Neill, carried the Sword of State before him to St. Thomas's Abbey, where he entertained the king's commis- sioners and others at a sumptuous banquet". But soon Gerald's enemies were destined to witness the accomplishment of all their designs against his house. James, earl of Desmond, **a man of lofty and ambitious views", entered into a correspondence with Charles the Fifth, king of Spain, and Francis the First of France, for the purpose, some hold, of inducing one or other of those sovereigns to invade Ireland. What follows I quote tex- tually from 0' Daly's quaint narrative, as translated by the Eev. C. P. Meehan : — " Many messages passed between them, of all which Henry the Eighth was a long time ignorant. It is com- monly thought that Charles the Fifth at this time medi- tated an invasion of Ireland ; and when at length the in- telligence of these facts reached the king of England, Car- dinal Wolsey (a man of immoderate ambition, most inimi- cal to the Geraldines, and then ruling England as it were by his nod) caused the earl to be summoned to London ; but Desmond did not choose to place himself in the hands of the cardinal, and declined the invitation. Thereupon the king despatched a messenger to the earl of Kildare, then viceroy in Ireland, ordering him to arrest Desmond and send him to England forthwith. On receipt of the order, Kildare collected troops and marched into Munster to seize Desmond; but, after some time, whether through inability or reluctance to injure his kinsman, the businesf THE STORY OP IRKLAND. 195 failed and Kildare returned. Then did the cardinal poison the mind of the king against Kildare, asseverating that by his connivance Desmond had escaped — (this, indeed, was not the fact, for Kildare, however so anxious, could not have arrested Desmond). Kildare was then arraigned before the privy council, as Henry gave willing ear to the cardinal's assertions; but before the viceroy sailed for England, he committed the state and administration of Ireland to Thomas, his son and heir, and then presented himself before the council. The cardinal accused him of high treason to his liege sovereign, and endeavoured to brand him and all his family with the ignominious mark of disloyalty. Kildare, who was a man of bold spirit, and despised the base origin of Wolsey, replied in polished, yet vehement language; and though the cardinal and court were hostile to him, nevertheless he so well managed the matter, that he was only committed to the tower of London. But the cardinal, determined to carry out his designs of vengeance, without knowledge of the king, sent private instructions to the constable of the tower ordering him to* behead the earl without delay. When the con- stable received his orders, although he knew how dan- gerous it was to contravene the cardinal's mandate, com- miserating the earl, he made him aware of his instructions. Calmly, yet firmly, did Kildare listen to the person who read his death-warrant ; and then launching into a violent invective against the cardinal, he caused the constable to proceed to the king, to learn if such order had emanated from him, for he suspected that it was the act of the car- dinal unauthorized. The constable, regardless of the risk he ran, hastened to the king, and, about ten o'clock at night, reported to his majesty the order of the cardinal for destroying Kildare. Thereon the king was bitterly incensed against Wolsey, whom he cursed, and forbade the constable to execute any order not sanctioned by his own sign-manual ; stating, at the same time, that he would cause the cardinal to repont of his usurped authority and unjust dislike to Kildare. The constable returned, and informed the earl of his message ; but Kildare was neverthe- less detained a prisoner in the tower to the end of his days". 196 THE STORY OP IRELAND. "There is", says O'Daly's eranslator, chapter in Gait's Life of Wolsey full of errors and gross mis- representations of Ireland and the Irish. It is only fair, however, to give him credit for the spirited sketch he has given of the dialogue between Wolsey and Kil- dare. * My lord', said Wolsey, ' you will remember how the earl of Desmond, your kinsman, sent letters to Francis, the French king, what messages have been sent to you to arrest him (Desmond), and it is not yet done . . • but, in performing your duty in this affair, merciful God I how dilatory have you been ! . . . . what I the earl of Kildare dare not venture ! nay, the king of Kildare ; for you reign more than you govern the land*. * My lord chancellor', replied the earl, * if you proceed in this way, I will forget half my defence. I have no school tricks nor art of recollection ; unless you hear me while I remember, your second charge will hammer the first out of my head. As to my kingdom, I know not what you mean .... I would you and I, my lord, exchanged king- doms for one month ; I would in that time undertake to gather more crumbs than twice the revenues of my poor earldom. While you sleep in your bed of down, I lie in a poor hovel ; while you are served under a canopy, I serve under the cope of heaven ; while you drink wine from golden cups, I must be content with water from a shell ; my charger is trained for the field, your jennet is taught to amble'. 0' Daly's assertion that Wolsey issued the earl's death-warrant does not appear to rest on any solid foundation ; and the contrary appears likely, when such usurpation of royalty was not objected in the im- peachment of the cardinal". tHE STORY OP IRELAND. 197 XXXII. — THE REBELLION OF SILKEN THOMAS. >f HEN Kildare was summoned to London — as it proved to be for the last time — he was called upon to nominate some one who should act for him in his absence, and for whom he himself would be responsible. Unfortunately he nominated his own son Thomas,* a hot, impetuous, brave, daring, and chivalrous youth, scarce one-and-twenty years of age. For some time the earl lay in London tower, his fate as yet uncertain ; the enemies of his house meanwhile striv- ing steadily to insure his ruin. It was at this juncture that the events detailed in by- gone pages — Henry's quarrel with the Pope, and the con- sequent politico-religious revolution in England — flung all the English realm into consternation and dismay. Amidst the tidings of startling changes and bloody executions in London brought by each mail to Ireland, came many dis- quieting rumours of the fate of the Geraldine earl. The effect of these stories on the young Lord Thomas seems to have suggested to the anti-Geraldine faction a foul plot to accomplish his ruin. Forged letters were circulated giving out with much circtimstantiality how the earl his father had been beheaded in the Tower of London, notwith- standing the king's promise to the contrary. The effect of this news on the Geraldine party, but most of all on the young Lord Thomas, may be imagined. Stunned for an instant by this cruel blow, his resolution was taken in a burst of passionate grief and anger. Vengeance ! ven- geance on the trebly perjured and blood-guilty king, whose crimes of lust, murder, and sacrilege called aloud for punishment, and forfeited for him allegiance, throne, and * Known in history as "Silken Thomas'*. He was so called, we are told, from the silken banners carried by his standard-bearers—' others say, because of the richness of his personal attire. 198 TfiE STORY OF IRELAKD. life I The yontlifiil deputy hastily assembling his guards and retainers, and surrounded by a crowd of his grief- stricken and vengeful kinsmen, marched to Mary's Abbey, where the privy council was already sitting, waiting for him to preside over its deliberations. The scene at the council chamber is picturesquely sketched by Mr. Fer- guson, in his Hibernian Nights Entertainment,* " Presently the crowd collected round the gates began to break up and line the causeways at either side, and a gallant cavalcade was seen through the open arch ad- vancing from Thomas' Court towards the drawbridge. *Way for the lord deputy', cried two truncheon-bearers, dashing through the gate, and a shout arose on all sides that Lord Thomas was coming. Trumpeters and pursui- vants at arms rode first, then came the mace-bearer with his symbol of office, and after him the sword of state, in a rich scabbard of velvet, carried by its proper officer. Lord Thomas himself, in his robes of state, and surrounded by a dazzling array of nobles and gentlemen, spurred after. The arched gateway was choked for a moment with tossing plumes and banners, flashing arms and gleaming faces, as the magnificent troop burst in like a flood of fire upon the dark and narrow precincts of the city. But behind the splendid cortege which headed their march, came a dense column of mailed men-at-arms, that continued to defile through the close pass long after the gay mantles and waving pennons of their leaders were indistinct in the distance. " The gate of Mary's Abbey soon received the leaders of the revolt; and ere the last of their followers had ceased to pour into the echoing court-yard, Lord Thomas and his friends were at the door of the council-chamber. The assembled lords rose at his entrance, and way was made for him to the chair of state. • The book here alluded to, it may be right to remind young readers, does not purport to be more than a fanciful story founded on facts; but the author so closely adheres to the outlines of au- thentic history, that we may credit his sketches and descriptiona as well justified approximations to the literal truth. tHE STORY OF IRELAND. " ^ Keep your seats, my lords', said he, stopping mid- way between the entrance and council tab]e, while his friends gathered in a body at his back. ' I have not come to preside over this council, my lords ; I come to tell you of a bloody tragedy that has been enacted in London, and to give you to know what steps I have thought fit to take in consequence'. * What tragedy, my lord V said Alan, the archbishop of Dublin; 'your lordship's looks and words alarm me: what means this multitude of men now in the house of God ? My lord, my lord, I fear this step is rashly taken; this looks like something, my lord, that I would be loth to name in the presence of loyal men'. *''Mylord archbishop', replied Thomas, 'when you pretend an ignorance of my noble father's murder' " 'Murder!' cried the lord chancellor, Cromer, starting from his seat, and all at the council table uttered excla- mations of astonishment in horror, save only Alan and the lord high treasurer. " ' Yes, my lord', the young Geraldine continued, with a stern voice, still addressing the archbishop, ' when you pretend ignorance of that foul and cruel murder, whicli was done by the instigation and traitorous procuring of yourself and others, your accomplices, and yet taunt me with the step which I have taken, rashly, as it may be, but not, I trust, unworthily of my noble father's son, in con- sequence, you betray at once your treachery and your hypocrisy'. By this time the tumult among the soldiery without, who had not till now heard of the death of the earl, was as if a thousand men had been storming the abbey. They were all native Irish, and to a man devoted to Kildare Curses, lamentations, and cries of rage and vengeance sounded from every quarter of the court-yard ; and some who rushed into the council-hall with drawn swords, to be revenged on the authors of their calamity, were with difficulty restrained by the knights and gentle- men around the door from rushing on the archbishop, and slaying him as they heard him denounced by their chief, on the spot. When the clamour was somewhat abated, 200 f HE STORY OF IRELAND. Alan, who had stood up to speak at its commencement, addressed the chancellor. " * My lord, this unhappy young man says he knows not what. If his noble father, which God forbid, should have come under his majesty's displeasure — if he should, indeed, have suffered — although I know not that he hath — the penalty of his numerous treasons' " 'Bold priest, thou liest!' cried Sir Oliver Fitzgerald; 'my murdered brother was a truer servant of the crown than ever stood in thy satin shoes !' " Alan and the lord chancellor Cromer, also an arch- bishop and primate of Armagh, rose together; the one complaining loudly of the wrong and insult done his order ; the other beseeching that all present would remember they were Christians and subjects of the crown of Eng- land; but, in the midst of this confusion. Lord Thomas, taking the sword of state out of the hands of its bearer, advanced up the hall to the council-table with a lofty de- termination in his bearing that at once arrested all eyes. It was plain he was about to announce his final purpose, and all within the hall awaited what he would say in sullen silence. His friends and followers now formed a dense semicircle at the foot of the hall ; the lords of the council had involuntarily drawn round the throne and lord chan- cellor's chair; Thomas stood alone on the floor opposite the table, with the sword in his hands. Anxiety and pity were marked on the venerable features of Cromer as he bent forward to hear what he would say; but Alan and the treasurer. Lord James Butler, exchanged looks of malignant satisfaction. "'My lord', said Thomas, 'I come to tell you that my father has been basely put to death, for I know not what alleged treason, and that we have taken up arms to avenge his murder. Yet, although we be thus driven by the tyranny and cruelty of the king into open hostility, we would not have it said hereafter that we have conspired like villains and churls, but boldly declared our purpose as becomes warriors and gentlemen. This sword of state, my lords, is yours, not mine. I received it with an oath, that I would use it for your benefit ; I should stain my THE Sf ORt OF IRELAND. 203 honour if I turned it to your hurt. My lords, I have noTV need of my own weapon, which I can trust; but as for the coramon sword, it has flattered me not — a painted scabbard, while its edge was yet red in the best blood of my house — aye, and is even now whetted anew for fur- ther destruction of the Geraldines. Therefore, my lords, save yourselves from us as from open enemies. I am no longer Henry Tudor's deputy — I am his foe. I have more mind to conquer than to govern — to meet him in the field than to serve him in office. And now, my lords, if all the hearts in England and Ireland, that have cause thereto, do but join in this quarrel, as I look that they will, then shall the world shortly be made sen- sibly of the tyranny, cruelty, falsehood, and heresy, for which the age to come may well count this base king among the ancient traitors of most abominable and hate- ful memory'. "*Croom aboo!' cried Iseale Eoe O'Kennedy, Lord Thomas's bard, who had pressed into the body of the hall at the head of the Irish soldiery. He was conspicuous over all by his height and the splendour of his native cos- tume. His legs and arms were bare ; the sleeves of his yellow cothone, parting above the elbow, fell in volumi- nous folds almost to the ground, whilst its skirts, girded at the loins, covered him to the knee. Over this he wore a short jacket of crimson, the sleeves just covering the shoulders, richly wrought and embroidered, and drawn round the waist by a broad belt, set with precious stones, and fastened with a massive golden buckle. His laced and fringed mantle was thrown back, but kept from falling by a silver brooch, as broad as a man's palm, which glit- tered on his breast. He stretched out his hand, the gold bracelets rattling as they slid back on the thickness of his arm, and exclaimed in Irish : — " * Who is the young lion of the plains of Liffey, that affrights the men of counsel, and the ruler of the Saxon, with his noble voice? ' Who is the quickened ember of Kildare, that would consume the enemies of his people, and the false churls of the cruel race of clan-London? 204 THE STORY OF IRELAND. " ^ It is the son of Gerald — the top branch of the oak of OjBfaly !' " * It is Thomas of the silken mantle — Ard-Righ Eire- ann !' " * Righ Tomas go bragh !' shouted the soldiery ; and many of the young lord's Anglo-Irish friends responded — * Long live King Tomas f but the chancellor, archbishop Cromer, who had listened to his insane avowal with un- disguised distress, and who had already been seen to wring his hand, and even to shed tears as the misguided noble- man and his friends thus madly invoked their own destruc- tion, came down from his seat, and earnestly grasping the young lord by the hand, addressed him : * Good my lord,' he cried, while his venerable figure and known attachment to the house of Kildare, attested as it was by such visible evidences of concern, commanded for a time the attention of all present. ' Good my lord, suffer me to use the privilege of an old man's speech with you, before you finally give up this ensign of your autho- rity and pledge of your allegiance.' " The archbishop reasoned and pleaded at much length and with deep emotion ; but he urged and prayed in vain. " ^ My Lord Chancellor,' replied Thomas, ' I came not here to take advice, but to give you to understand what I purpose to do. As loyalty would have me know my prince, so duty compels me to reverence my father. I thank you heartily for your counsel ; but it is now too late. As to my fortune, I will take it as God sends it, and rather choose to die with valour and liberty, than live under King Henry in bondage and villainy. Therefore, my lord, I thank you again for the concern you take in my welfare, and since you will not receive this sword out of my hand, I can but cast it from me, even as here I cast off and re- nounce all duty and allegiance to your master,^ So saying, he flung the sword of state upon the coun- cil table. The blade started a hand's breadth out of its sheath, from the violence with which it was dashed out of his hands. He then, in the midst of a tumult of accla- mation from his followers, and cries of horror and pity from the lords and prelates around, tore off his robes of \ THE STORY OF IRELAND. 205 office and cast them at his feet. Stripped thus of his ensigns of dignity, Lord Thomas Fitzgerald stood up, amid the wreck of his fair fortune, an armed and avowed rebel, equipped in complete mail, before the representa- tives of England and Ireland. The cheering from his ad- herents was loud and enthusiastic, and those without re- plied with cries of fierce exultation". The gallant but hapless Geraldine was now fully launched on his wild and desperate r nterprise. There is no doubt that, had it partaken less of a hasty burst of passionate im- petuosity, had it been more deliberately planned and or- ganized, the revolt of Silken Thomas might have wrested the Anglo-Irish colony from Henry's authority. As it was, it shook the Anglo-Irish power to its base, and at one time seemed irresistible in its progress to success. But, how- ever the ties of blood, kindred, and clanship might draw men to the side of Lord Thomas, most persons outside the Geraldine party soon saw the fate that surely awaited such a desperate venture, and saw too that it had all been the result of a subtle plot of the Ormond faction to ruin their powerful rivals. Moreover, in due time the truth leaked out that the old earl had not been beheaded at all,* but was alive a prisoner in London. Lord Thomas now saw the gulph of ruin into which he had been precipitated, and knew now that his acts would only seal the doom or else break the heart of that father, the news of whose murder had driven him into this desperate course. But it was all too late to turn back. He would see the hopeless struggle through to the bitter end. One of his first acts was to besiege Dublin city while another wing of his army devastated the possessions and reduced the castles of Ormond. Alan, the archbishop of Dublin, a prominent enemy of the Geraldines, fled from the city by ship. The vessel, however, was driven ashore on Clontarf, and the archbishop sought refuge in the vil- lage of Artane. News of this fact was quickly carried into the Geraldine camp at Dublin ; and before day's-dawn Lord Thomas and his uncles, John and Oliver, with an armed party, reached Artane, and dragged the archbishop from his bed. The unhappy prelate pleaded hard for his 206 THE STORY OF IRELAND, life; but the elder Geraldines, who were men of savage passion, barbarously murdered him as he knelt at their feet. This foul deed ruined any prospect of success which their cause might have had, It excited universal horror, and drew down upon its perpetrators, and all who should aid or shelter them, the terrible sentence of excommuni- cation. This sentence was exhibited to the hapless earl of Kildare in his dungeon in London tower, and, it is said, so affected him that he never rallied more. He sank under the great load of his afflictions, and died of a broken heart. Meanwhile, Lord Thomas was pushing the rebellion with all his energies, and for a time with wondrous suc- cess. He despatched ambassadors to the emperor Charles the Fifth, and to the Pope, demanding aid in this war against Henry as the foe of God and man. But it is clear that neither the Pope nor the emperor augured well of Silken Thomas's ill-devised endeavours. No succours reached him. His fortunes eventually began to pale. Powerful levies were brought against him ; and, finally, he sought a parley with the English commander-in-chief, Lord Leonard Gray, who granted him terms of life for himself and uncles. Henry was wroth that any terms should have been promised to such daring foes; but as terms had been pledged, there was nothing for it, accord- ing to Henry's code of morality, but to break the promise. Accordingly, the five uncles of Silken Thomas, and the unfortunate young nobleman himself, were treacherously seized — the uncles at a banquet to which they were in- vited, and which was, indeed, given in their honour, by the lord deputy Gray — and brought to London, where, in vio- lation of plighted troth, they were all six beheaded at Tyburn, 8rd January, 1537. This terrible blow was designed to cut off the Geraldine family for ever; and to all appearance it seemed, and Henry fondly believed, that this wholesale execution had accomplished that design, and left neither root nor seed behind. Yet once again that mysterious protection, which had so often preserved the Geraldine line in like terrible times, saved it from the decreed destruction. " The im- THE STORY OF IRELAND. 207 prisoned earl (Lord Thomas's father) having died in the tower on the 12th December, 1534, the sole survivor of this historic house was now a child of twelve years of age, whose life was sought with an avidity equal to Herod's, but who was protected with a fidelity which defeated every attempt to capture him. Alternately the guest of his aunts, married to the chiefs of Offaly and Donegal, the sympathy everywhere felt for him led to a confederacy between the northern and southern chiefs, which had long been wanting. A loose league was formed, including the O'Neils of both branches, O'Donnell, O'Brion, the earl of Desmond, and the chiefs of Moylurg'and Breffni. The lad, the object of so much natural and chivalrous affection, was harboured for a time in Munster, thence transported through Connaught into Donegal, and finally, after four years, in which he engaged more of the minds of states- men than any other inividual under the rank of royalty, was safely landed in France". The Geraldine line was preserved once more ! From this child Gerald it was to branch out as of yore, in stately strength and princely power ' 208 THE STORY OF IRELAND. XXXIII. HOW THE reformation'' WAS ACCOMPLISHED IN ENGLAND, AND HOW IT WAS RESISTED IN IRELAND. HAVE SO far called the event, usually termed the Kefor- mation, a politico- religious revolution, and treated of it only as such. With phases of religious belief or the propagandism of new religious doctrines, unless ^^^^^.^^^^^^.w- in so far as they affected poli- tical events or effected marked national changes, I do not purpose dealing in this Story. As a matter of fact, however, the Eeformation was during the reign of Henry much less of a religious than a poli- tical revolution. The only points Henry was particular about were the matters of supremacy and church property. For a long period the idea of adopting the new form of faith in all its doctrinal sequence seemed quite foreign to his mind. The doctrine, firstly, that he, Henry, was 8upreme king, spiritual as well as temporal, within his own realms; the doctrine, secondly, that he could, in THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 209 virtue of such spiritual supremacy, give full rein to hit beastly lusts, and call concubinage marriage; and lastly, that whatever property the Chnrch possessed, bequeathed for pious uses, he might rob and keep for himself, or divide as bribes between his abetting nobles, legislators, and statesmen — these were the reforms", so-called, upon which the king set most value Other matters he allowed for a time to have their way ; at least it was so wherever difficulty was anticipated in pulling down the old and set-' ting up new forms of worship. Thus we find the king at the same time sending a "reforming" archbishop to Dublin while sanctioning prelates of the old faith in other dioceses, barely on condition of taking the oath of alle- giance to him. Doctrine or theology had scarcely any concern for him or his statesmen, and it is clear and plain to any student of history, that if the Catholic Church would only sanction to him his polygamy, and to them the rich plunder they had clutched, they would never have gone further, and would still be wondrous zealous " defenders of the faith". But the Catholic Church, which could have avoided the whole disaster at the outset by merely suffer- ing one lawful wife to be unlawfully put away, was not going to compromise, with him or with them, an iota of sacred truth or public morality, much less to sacrifice both wholesale after this fashion So, in time, the king and his party saw that having gone so far, they must needs go the whole way. Like the panther that has tasted blood, their thirst for plunder was but whetted by their taste of Church spoil. They should go farther or they might lose all. They knew right well that of these spoils they never could rest sure as long as the owner, the Catholic Church, was allowed to live ; so to kill the Chnrch outright became to them as much of a necessity as the sure "dispatching" of a half- murdered victim is to a burglar or an assassin. Had it not been for this question of Church property — had there been no plunder to divide — in all human probability there would have been no "reformation" consummated in these coun- tries. But by the spoils of the sanctuary Henry was able to bribe the nobles to his side, and to give them such an interest in the utter abolition of Catholicity and the per- 14 210 THE STORY OP IRELAND, petuation of the new system, that no king or queen coming after him would be able permanently to restore the old order of things. Here the reflection at once confronts us — what a mean, sordid, worldly-minded kennel these same " nobles" must have been ! Aye, mean and soulless indeed ! If there was any pretence of religious convictions having anything to say in the business, no such reflection would arise ; no such language would be seemly. But few or none of the parties cared to get up even a semblance of interest in the doctri- nal aspect of the passing revolution. One object, and one alone, seemed fixed before their gaze — to get as much as possible of "what was going"; to secure some of the loot, and to keep it. Given this one consideration, all things else might remain or be changed a thousand times over for all they cared. If any one question the correctness of this estimate of the conduct of the English and Anglo-Irish lords of the period before us, I need only point to the page of authentic history. They were a debased and cowardly pack. As long as Henry fed them with bribes from the abbey lands, they made and unmade laws " to order" for him. He asked them to declare his marriage with Cathe- rine of Arragon invalid — they did it ; his marriage with Anna Boleyn lawful — they did it ; this same marriage un- lawfaj and its fruits illegitimate — they did it ; his marriage with Jane Seymour lawful — they did it. In fine they said and unsaid, legitimatized and illegitimatized, just as he desired. Nor was this all. In the reign of his child Edward, they enactad every law deemed necessary for the more complete overthrow of the ancient faith and the getting up of the new. But no sooner had Mary come to the throne, than these same lords, legislators, and states- men instantaneously wheeled around, beat their breasts, became wondrously pious Catholics, whined out repentantly that they had been frightful criminals ; and, like the facile creatures that they were, at the request of Mary, or to please her, undid in a rush all they had been doing during the two preceding reigns — but all on one condition, most significant and most necessary to mark, viz.: that they should not he called upon to give hach the stolen property ! THE STORY OF IRELAND, 211 Again a change on the throne, and again they change! Elizabeth comes to undo all that Mary had restored, andlo I the venal lords and legislators in b^i instant wheel around once more; they decree false and illegitimate all they had just declared true and lawful; they swallow their own words, they say and unsay, they repeal and reenact, do and undo, as the whim of the queen, or the necessity of conserving their sacrilegious robberies dictates ! Yes ; the history of the world has nothing to parallel the disgusting baseness, the mean sordid cowardice of the English and Anglo-Irish lords and legislators. Theirs was not a change of religious convictions, right or wrong, but a greedy venality, a facile readiness to change any way or every way for worldly advantage. Their model of policy was Judas Iscariot, who sold our Lord for thirty pieces of silver. That Ireland also was not carried over into the new system was owing to the circumstance that the English authority had, so far, been able to secure for itself but a partial hold on the Irish nation. It must have been a curious reflection with the supreme pontiffs, that Ireland might in a certain sense be said to have been saved to the Catholic Church by its obstinate disregard of exhortations addressed to it repeatedly, if not by the popes, under cover or ostensible sanction of papal authority, in support of the English crown; forbad the Irish yielded all that the English king demanded with Papal bull in hand, and be- come part and parcel of the English realm, Ireland, too, was lost to the old faith. At this point one is tempted to indulge in bitter reflections on the course of the Roman pontiffs towards Ireland. Hitherto" — (so one might put it) — " that hapless nation in its fearful struggle against ruthless invaders found Rome on the side of its foes. It was surely a hard and a cruel thing for the Irish, so devo- tedly attached to the Holy See, to behold the rapacious and blood-thirsty Normans, Plantagenets, and Tudors, able to flourish against them Papal bulls and rescripts, until now when Henry quarrelled with Rome. Now — henceforth — too late — all that is to be altered; henceforth the bulls and the rescripts are all to exhort the broken and ruined 212 THE STORY OF IRELAND. Irish nation to fight valiantly against that power to which, for four hundred years, the Eoman court had been ex- horting or commanding it to submit. Surely Ireland has been the sport of Eoman policy, if not its victim These bitter reflections would be not only natural but just, if the facts of the case renllj supported them. But the facts do not quite support this view, which, it is singular to note, the Irish themselves never entertained. At all times they seem to have most justly and accurately appreciated the real attitude of the Holy See towards them, and fixed the value and force of the bulls and rescripts obtained by the English sovereign at their true figure. The conduct of the popes was not free from reproach in a particular sub- sequently to be noted ; but the one thing they had really urged, rightly or wrongly, on the Irish from the first was the acceptance of the sovereignty of the English king, by no means implying an incorporation with the English nation, or an abandonment of their nationality. In this sense the popes' exhortations were always read by the native Irish; and it will be noted that in this sense from the very beginning the Irish princes very generally were ready to acquiesce in them. The idea, rightly or wrongly, appears to have been that this strong sovereignty would be capable of reducing the chaotic elements in Ire- land (given up to such hopeless disorder previously) to compactness and order — a good to Ireland and to Christen- dom. This was the guise in which the Irish question had always been presented by plausible English envoys, civil or ecclesiastical, at Eome. The Irish themselves did not greatly quarrel with it so far ; but there was all the differ- ence in the world between this the theory and the bloody and barbarous fact and practice as revealed in Ireland. What may be said with truth is, that the popes inquired too little about the fact and practice, and were always too ready to write and exhort upon such a question at the in- stance of the English. The Irish chiefs were sensible of th's wrong done them; but in their every act and word they evidenced a perfect consciousness that the rectitude of cne m tives animating the popes was not to be questioned. Even wHen the authority of th^ Holy See was most pain- TflBJ STORY OP IRELAND. 213 fully misused against them, ^hej received it with reverence and respect. The time had at length arrived, however, when Eome was to mourn over whatever of error or wrong had marked its past policy towards Ireland, and for ever after nobly and unchangeably to stand by her side. But alas I too late — all too late now for succeeding ! All the harm had been done, and was now beyond repairing. The grasp of England had been too firmly tightened in the past. At the very moment when the Pope desired, hoped, urged, and expected Ireland to arise triumphant and glorious, a free Catholic nation, a recompense for lost England, she sank broken, helpless, and despairing under the feet of the sacrilegious Tudor. XXXIV. — HOW THE IRISH CHIEFS GAVE UP ALL HOPE AND YIELDED TO HENRY ; AND HOW THE IRISH CLANS SERVED TOE CHIEFS FOR SUCH TREASON. ENKY THE EIGHTH was the first English sovereign styled King of Ireland, and it must be confessed he had more to show for assuming such a title than his predecessors had for the lesser dignities of the kind which they claimed ; inasmuch as the title was " voted" to him in the first formal parliament in which Irish chieftains and Anglo-Norman lords sat side by side. To be sure the Irish chieftains had no authority from the septs (from whom alone they derived any authority or power) to give such a vote ; and, as we shall learn presently, some of those septs instantly on becoming aware of it and the consequences it implied, deposed the chiefs thus acting, and promptly elected (in each case from the same family however) others in their stead. But never previously had so many of the native princes in a manner so formal given in their acknowledgment of the English dynasty, and their renunciation of the ancient institutions of their nation. Utterly broken down in spirit, reft of hope, weary of 214 tHE STORY 01P IRELAKB. struggle, they seem to have yielded themselves up to in- evitable fate. " The arguments'', says one of our histo- rians, " by which many of the chiefs might have justified themselves to the clans in 1841-2-8, for submitting to the inevitable laws of necessity, in rendering homage to Henry the Eighth, were neither few nor weak. Abroad there was no hope of an alliance sufficient to counter- balance the immense resources of England ; at home, life- wasting private wars, the conflict of laws, of languages, and of titles to property had become unbearable. That fatal family pride which would not permit an O'Brien to obey an O'Neill, nor an O'Connor to follow either, rendered the establishment of a native monarchy (even if there had been no other obstacle) wholly impracticable". Another says : " The chief lords of both English and Irish descent were reduced to a state of deplorable misery and exhaus- tion It was high time, therefore, on the one side to think of submission, and prudent on the other to propose concession ; and Henry was just then fortunate in select- ing a governor for Ireland who knew how to take advan- -age of the favourable circumstances". This was Saint- leger, whose politic course of action resulted in the assembling at Dublin, 12th June, 1541, of a parliament at which, besides all the principal Anglo-Norman lords, there attended, Donogh O'Brien, tanist of Thomond, the O'Eeilly, O'More, M^William, Fitzpatrick, and Kava- nagh.* The speeches in the English language were trans- lated in the Gaelic tongue to the Irish chiefs by the Earl of Ormond, The main business was to consider a bill voting the crown of Ireland to Henry, which was unanimously passed — registered rather ; for, as far as the native "legis- lators" were concerned, the assemblage was that of con- quered and subdued chieftains, ready to acknowledge their subjection in ani/ way. O'Neill and O'Donnell refused to attend. They held out sullenly yet awhile in the North. * Son of M*Murrogh who had just previously ** submitted", re- nouncing the title of M *Murrogli, adopting the name of Kavanagh, and undecfcaking on the part of his sept, that no one henceforth would assume the renounced title I ♦THE STORY OF IRELAND. 215 But in the next year they came in", much to the delight of Henry, who loaded them with flatteries and attentions. The several chiefs yielded up their ancient Irish titles, and consented to receive English instead. O'Brien was created Earl of Thomond ; Click William was created Earl of Clanrickard and Baron Dunkejlin ; Hugh O'Donnell was made Earl of Tyrconnel ; O'Neill was made Earl of Tyrone ; Kavanagh was made Baron of Ballyann ; and Fitzpatrick, Baron of Ossory. Most of these titles were conferred by Henry in person at Greenwich palace, with extravagant pomp and formality, the Irish chiefs having been specially invited thither for that purpose, and sums of money given them for their equipment and expenses. In many instances, if not in all, they consented to receive from Henry royal patents or title deeds for "their" lands, as the English from their feudal stand-point would regard them; not theirlsmds, however, in point of fact and law, but the " tribe-lands" of their septs. The acceptance of these " patents" of land proprietorship, still more than the acceptance of English titles, was " a complete abrogation of the Gaelic relation of clansman and chief". Some of the new earls were more- over apportioned a share of the plundered Church lands. This was yet a further outrage on their people. Little need we wonder, therefore, that while the newly created earls and barons were airing their modern dignities at the English court, feted and flattered by Henry, the clans at home, learning by dark rumour of these treasons, were already stripping the backsliding chiefs of all authority and power, and were taking measures to arrest and con- sign them to punishment on their return ! O'Donnell found most of his clan, headed by his son, up in arms against him ; O'Brien, on his return, was confronted by like circumstances ; the new " Earl of Clanrickard" was incontinently attainted by his people, and a Gaelic "M* William" was duly installed in his stead. O'Neill, " the first of his race who had accepted an English title", found that his clansmen had formally deposed him, and elected as the O'Neill, his son John, surnamed "John the Proud"— the celebrated " Shane" O'Neill, so called in the jargon of English writern. On all sides the septs repu- 216 THE STORY OF IKEtANt)* diated and took formal and practical measures to disavow and reverse the acts of their representatives. The hope- lessness that had broken the spirit of the chief found no place in the heart of the clan. This was the beginning of new complications in the already tangled skein of Irish affairs. A new source of division and disorganisation was now planted in the coun- try. Hitherto the clans at least were intact, though the nation was shattered. Henceforth the clans themselves were split into fragments. From this period forward we hear of a king's or a queen's O'Eeilly and an Irish O'Reilly ; a king's O'Neill and an Irish O'Neill ; a king's O'Donnell and an Irish O'Donnell. The English government pre- sented a very artful compromise to the septs — offering them a chief of the native family stock, but requiring that he should hold from the crown, not from the clan. The nomi- nee of the government, backed by all the English power and interest, was generally able to make head for a time as least against the legitimate chief duly and legally chosen and elected by the sept In many instances the English nominee was able to rally to his side a consider- able section of the clan, and even without external aid to hold the chosen chief in check. By the internal feuds thus incited, the clans were utterly riven, and were given over to a self-acting process of extinction. Occasionally, indeed, the crown nominee, once he was firmly seated in the chieftaincy, threw off all allegiance to his foreign mas- ters, declared himself an Irish chief, cast away scornfully his English earlship, and assumed proudly the ancient title that named him head of his clan. In this event the government simply declared him "deposed", proceeded to nominate another chief in his place, and sent an army to instal the new nominee on the necks of the stubborn clan. This was the artful system — copied in all its craft and cruelty by the British in India centuries afterwards — pur- sued towards the native princes and chiefs of Ireland from the reign of Henry the Eighth tc the middle of the seven- teenth century. t^E StORY OF IRELAND. 21? XXXV. henry's successors: EDWARD, MARY, AND ELIZA- BETH. THE CAREER OF ^^JOHN THE PROUD". HE changes of English sovereigns little affected English policy in Ireland. Whatever meaning the change from Henry to Edward, from Ed- ward to Mary, and from Mary to Elizabeth, may have had in England, in Ireland it mattered little who filled the throne; the policy of subju- gation, plunder, and extirpation went on. In Mary's reign, indeed, incidents more than one occurred to show that, though of course bent on com- pleting the conquest and annexation of Ireland, she was a stranger to the savage and cruel passions that had ruled her father, and that were so fearfully inherited by his other daughter, Elizabeth. The aged chief of Offaly, 0' Conor, had long lain in the dungeons of London Tower, all efforts to obtain his release having failed. At length his daughter Margaret, hearing that now a queen — a woman — sat on the throne, bethought her of an appeal in person to Mary for her father's life and freedom. She pro- ceeded to London and succeeded in obtaining an audience of the queen. She pleaded with all a woman's eloquence, and with all the fervour of a daughter petitioning for a father's life I Mary was touched to the heart by this instance of devotedness. She treated young Margaret of Offaly with the greatest tenderness, spoke to her cheeringly, and pro- mised her that what she had so bravely sought should be freely granted. And it was so. O'Conor Faly returned with his daughter to Ireland a free man. Nor was this the only instance in which Mary exhibited a womanly sympathy for misfortune. The fate of the Geraldines moved her to compassion. The young Gerald — long time a fugitive among the glens of Muskery and Donegal, now an exile sheltered in Rome— was recalled and restored to all his estates, honours, and titles ; and with 0' Conor Faly and the young Geraldine there were allowed to return to their homes, we are told, the heirs of ^18 The story op irelani). the houses of Ormond and Upper Ossory, ^^to the great delight of the southern half of the kingdom". To Mary there succeeded on the English throne her Amazonian sister, Elizabeth, Tlje nobles and commoners of England had, indeed, as in Mary's case, at her father's request, declared and decreed as the immortal and un- changeable truth that she was illegitimate ; but, according to their code of morality, that was no earthly reason against their now declaring and decreeing as the immortal and unchangeable truth that she was legitimate. For these very noble nobles and most uncommon commoners eat dirt with a hearty zest, and were ready to decree and declare, to swear and unswear, the most contradictory and irreconcileable assertions, according as their venality and servility suggested. Elizabeth was a woman of marvellous ability. She pos- sessed abundantly the talents that qualify a statesman. She was greatly gifted indeed; but nature, while richly endowing her with so much else besides, forgot or with- held from her one of the commonest gifts of human kind —Elizabeth had no heart. A woman devoid of heart is, after all, a terrible freak of nature. She may be gifted with marvellous powers of intellect, and endowed with great personal beauty, but she is still a monster. Such was Elizabeth; a true Tudor and veritable daughter of King Henry the Eighth; one of the most remarkable women of her age, and in one sense one of the greatest of English sovereigns. Her reign was memorable in Irish history. It witnessed at its opening the revolt of John the Proud in Ulster ; later on the Desmond rebellion ; and towards the close the great struggle that to all time will immortalize the name of Hugh O'Neill. John the Proud, as I have already mentioned, was elected to the chieftaincy of the O'Neills on the deposition of his father by the clan. He scornfully defied all the efforts of the English to dispute his claim, and soon they were fain to recognize him and court his friendship. Of this extraor- dinary man little more can be said in praise than that he was an indomitable and, up to the great reverse which fHB STORY Of IRELAND. 219 suddenly closed his career, a successful soldier, wlio was able to defy and defeat the best armies of England on Irish soil, and more than once to bring the English government very submissively to terms of his dictation. But he lacked the personal virtues that adorned the lives and inspired the efforts of the great and brave men whose struggles we love to trace in the annals of Ireland. His was, indeed, a splendid military career, and his administration of the government of his territory was nndoubtedly exemplary in many res- pects, but he was in private life no better than a mere English noble of the time ; his conduct towards the unfor- tunate Calvach O'Donnell leaving a lasting stain on his name.* The state papers of England reveal an incident in his life, which presents us with an authenticated illustra- tion of the means deemed lawful by the English govern- ment often enough in those centuries for the removing of an Irish foe. John had reduced all the north to his sway, and cleared out every vestige of English dominion in Ulster. Ho had encountered the English commander-in-chief and defeated him. He had marched to the very confines of Dublin, spreading terror through the Pale. In this strait Sussex, the lord lieutenant, bethought him of a good plan for the effectual removal of this dangerous enemy to the crown and government. With the full cognizance and sanction of the queen, he hired an assassin to murder O'Neill. The plot, however, miscarried, and we should pro- bably have never heard of it, but that, very awkwardly for the memory of Elizabeth and of her worthy viceroy, some * He invaded the O'Donnell's territory, and acting, it is said, on information secretly supplied by the unfaithful wife of the Tyrcon- nell chief, succeeded in surprising and capturing him. He kept O'Donnell, who was his father-in-law, for years a close prisoner, and lived in open adultery with the perfidious wife of the imprisoned chief, the step-mother of his own lawful wife ! "What deepens the horror of this odious domestic tragedy", saysM*Gee, **is the fact, that the wife of O'Neill, the daughter of O'Donnell, thus supplan- ted by her shameless step-mother under her own roof, died soon afterwards of * horror loathing grief and deep anguish' at the spectacle afforded by the private life of O'Neill, and the severities inflicted on her wretched father!" 220 THE StORY OF IRELAND. portions of their correspondence on the subject remained undestroyed amongst the state papers, and are now to be seen in the State Paper Office ! The career of John the Proud closed suddenly and miserably* He was utterly defeated (a.d. 1567) in a great pitched battle by the O'Donnells; an overthrow which it is said affected his reason. Flying from the field with his guilty mistress, his secretary, and a bodyguard of fifty hor.«fimen, he was in- duced to become the guest of some Scottish adventurers in Antrim, upon whom he had inflicted a severe defeat not long previously. After dinner, when most of those present were under the influence of wine — John it is said, having been purposely plied with drink — an Englishman who was present, designedly got up a brawl, or pretence of a brawl, about O'Neiirs recent defeat of his then guests. Daggers were drawn in an instant, and the unfortunate John the Proud, while sitting helplessly at the banqueting board, was surrounded and butchered I XXXVI. — HOW THE GERALDINES ONCE MORE LEAGtTED AGAINST ENGLAND UNDER THE BANNER OP THE CROSS. HOW ^^THE ROYAL POPE" WAS THE EARLIEST AND THE MOST ACTIVE ALLY OF THE IRISH CAUSE. HE death of John the Proud gave the English power respite in the north ; but, respited for a moment in the north, that power was doomed to encounter danger still as menacing in the south. Once more the Geraldines were to put it severely to the proof. Elizabeth had not witnessed and studied in vain the events of her father's reign. She very iously concluded, that if she would safely push her war against the Catholic faith in Ireland, she must first get the dreaded Geraldines out of the way. And she knew, too, from all previous events, how necessary it was to THE STORY OF IRELAND. 221 guaTd that not even a solitary seedling of tliat dangerous race was allowed to escape. Slie wrote to Sydney, her lord lieutenant, to lay a right cunning snare for the catch- ing of the Geraldines in one haul. That faithful viceroy of a gracious queen forthwith "issued an invitation for the nobility of Ireland to meet him on a given day in the city of Dublin, to confer with him on some matters of great weight, particularly regarding religion''. The bait took. • "The dynasts of Ireland, little suspecting the design, hastened to the city, and along with them the Earl of Desmond and his brother John". They had a safe con- duct from Sydney, but had scarcely arrived when they were seized and committed'to the Castle dungeons, whence they were soon shipped off to the Tower of London. This was the plan Elizabeth had laid, but it had only partially succeeded. All the Geraldines had not come into the snare, and she took five years to decide whether it would be worth while murdering these (according to law), while so many other members of the family were yet outside her grasp. The earl and his brother appear not to have been imprisoned, but merely held to residence under surveil- lance in London. According to the version of the family chronicler, they found means of transmitting a docu- ment or message to their kinsmen and retainers, ap- pointing their cousin James, son of Maurice — known as James Fitzmaurice — to be the head and leader of the family in their absence, "for he was well-known for his attachment to the ancient faith, no less than for his valour and chivalry". " Gladly", says the old chronicler, " did the people of Earl Desmond receive these commands, and inviolable was their attachment to him who was now their appointed chieftain". This was that James Fitzmaurice of Desmond — " James Geraldine of happy memory", as Pope Gregory calls him — who originated, planned, and organized the memorable Ge- raldine League of 1579, upon the fortunes of which for years the attention of Christendom was fixed. With loftier, nobler, holier aims than the righting of mere family wrongs he conceived the idea- of a great league in defence of reli- gion ; a holy war, in which he might demand the sustain- 222 THE STORY OP IRELAND. ment and intervention of the Catholic powers. Elizabeth's own conduct at this juncture in stirring up and subsidising the Huguenots in France supplied Fitzmaurice with another argument in favour of his scheme First of all he sent an envoy to the Pope — Gregory the Thirteenth — demanding the blessing and assistance of the Supreme Pontiff in this struggle of a Catholic nation against a monarch nakedly violating all title to allegiance. The act of an apostate sovereign of a Catholic country drawing the sword to com- pel his subjects into apostacy on pain of death, was not only a forfeiture of his title to rule, it placed him outside the pale of law, civil and ecclesiastical. This was Henry's position when he died; to this position, as the envoy pointed out, Elizabeth succeeded with a vengeance"; and so he prayed of Pope Gregory, ^^his blessing on the undertaking and the concession of indulgences which the Church bestows on those who die in defence of the faith". The Holy Father flung himself earnestly and actively into the cause. "Then", says the old Geraldine chaplain, "forth flashed the sword of the Geraldine; like chaff did he scatter the host of reformers ; fire and devastation did he carry into their strongholds, so that during five years he won many a glorious victory, and carried off innumerable trophies". This burst of rhapsody, excusable enough on the part of the old Geraldine chronicler, gives, however, no faithful idea of what ensued ; many brilliant victories, it is true, James Geraldine achieved in his protracted struggle. But after five years of valiant effort and of varied fortunes, the hour of reverses came. One by one Fitzmaurice's allies were struck down or fell away from him, until at length he himself with a small force stood to bay in the historic Glen of Aherlow, which "had now become to the patriots of the south what the valley qf Glenmalure had been for those of Leinster — a fortress dedicated by nature to the defence of freedom"^ Here he held out for a year; but, eventually, he despatched envoys to the lord president at Kilmallock to make terms of submission, which were duly granted. Whether from motives of policy, or in compli- ance with these stipulations, the imprisoned earl and his brother were forthwith released in London j the queen THE STORY OF IRELAND. 223 making them an exceedingly smooth and bland speech against the sin of rebellion. The gallant Fitzmaurice be- took himself into exile, there to plot and organize with redoubled energy in the cause of Faith and Country; while the earl of Desmond, utterly disheartened no doubt by the result of James's revolt, and "only too happy to be tolerated in the possession of his 570,000 acres, was eager enough to testify his allegiance by any sort of service". Fitzmaurice did not labour in vain. He went from court to court pleading the cause he had so deeply at heart. He was received with honour and respect every- where; but it was only at Kome that he obtained that which he valued beyond personal honours for himself — aid in men, money, and arms for the struggle in Ireland. A powerful expedition was fitted out at Civita Vecchiaby the sovereign pontiff ; and from various princes of Europe secret promises of further aid were showered upon the brave Geraldine. He little knew, all this time^ while he in exile was toiling night and day — was pleading, urging, beseeching — planning, organizing, and directing — full of ardour and of faithful courageous resolve, that his coun- trymen at home — even his own kinsmen — were tempori- sing and compromising with the lord president I He little knew that, instead of finding Ireland ready to welcome him as a deliverer, he was to land in the midst of a pros- trate, dispirited, and apathetic population, and was to find some of his own relatives, not only fearing to countenance, but cravenly arrayed against him ! It was even so. As the youthful Emmett exclaimed of his own project against the British crown more than two hundred years subse- quently, we may say of Fitzmaurice's — "There was failure in every part". By some wild fatality everything mis- carried. There was concert nowhere ; there was no one engaged in the cause of ability to second James's efforts; and what misfortune marred, incompetency ruined. The Pope's expedition, upon which so much depended, was diverted from its destination by its incompetent comman- der, an English adventurer named Stukely, knave or fool, to whom, in an evil hour, James had unfortunately con- fided such a trust. Stukely, having arrived at Lisbon oo 224 THE STORY OF IRELAND. his way to Ireland, and having there learned that the king of Portugal was setting out on an expedition against the Moors, absolutely joined his forces to those of Dom Sebas- tian, and accompanied him,* leaving James of Desmond to learn as best he might of this inexplicable imbecility, U not cold-blooded treason! Meanwhile, in Ireland, the air was thick with rumours, vague and furtive, that James was ^' on the sea", and soon to land with a liberating expedition. The government was, of course, on the alert, fastening its gaze with lynx- eyed vigilance on all men likely to join the ''foreign emis- saries", as the returning Irish and their friends were styled; and around the south-western coast oflreland was instantly drawn a line of British cruisers. The government fain would have seized upon the earl of Desmond and his bro- thers, but it was not certain whether this would aid or retard the apprehended revolt ; for, so far, these Geral- dines protested their opposition to it, and to them — to the earl in particular — the population of the south looked for leadership. Yet, in sooth, the English might have believed the earl, who, hoping nothing of the revolt, yet sympathis- ing secretly with his kinsman, was in a sad plight what to do, anxious to be ^'neutral", and trying to convince the lord president that he was well affected. The government party, on the other hand, trusting him nought, seemed anxious to goad him into some ''overt act" that would put him utterly in their power. While all was excitement about the expected expedition, lo ! three suspicious stran- gers were landed at Dingle from a Spanish ship I They were seized as "foreign emissaries", and were brought first before the earl of Desmond. Glad of an opportunity for showing the government his zeal, he forthwith sent them prisoners to the lord president at Kilmallock. In vain they protested that they were not conspirators or invaders. And indeed they were not, though they were * Stukely, and most of his force, perished on the bloody field of Alcazarquebir, where Dom Sebastian and two Moorisli kings like- wise fell. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 225 what was just as bad in the eyes of the law, namely, Catholic ecclesiastics, one of them being Dr. O'Haly, bishop of Mayo, and another Father Cornelius O'Rorke. To reveal what they really were would serve them little ; inasmuch as hanging and beheading as " rebels" was in no way diffe- rent from hanging and beheading as Popish ecclesias- tics". Yet would the authorities insist that they were vile foreign emissaries. They spoke with a Spanish accent ; they wore their beard in the Spanish fashion, and their boots were of Spanish cut. So to force a confession of what was not truth out of them, no effort was spared. They were put to every conceivable torture", says the historian, " in order to extract intelligence of Fitzmaurice's movements". After their thighs had been broken with hammers they were hanged on a tree, and their bodies used as targets by the soldiery. By this time James, all unconscious of Stukely's defec- tion, had embarked from Spain for Ireland, with a few score Spanish soldiers in three small ships. He brought with him Dr. Saunders, Papal legate, the bishop of Killa- loe, and Dr. Allen. The little fleet, after surviving ship- wreck on the coast of Gallicia, sailed into Dingle Harbour 17th July, 1579. Here James first tasted disheartening disillusion. His great kinsman the earl, so far from march- ing to welcome him and summoning the country to rise, **sent him neither sign of friendship nor promise of coope- ration". This was discouragement indeed ; y et Fitzmaurice was not without hope that when in a few days the main ex- pedition under Stukely would arrive, the earl might think more hopefully of the enterprise, and rally to it that power which he alone could assemble in Munster. So, weighing anchor, James steered for a spot which no doubt he had long previously noted and marked as preeminently suited by nature for such a purpose as this of his just now — Illan-an-Oir, or Golden Island, inSmerwick harbour, on the north-west Kerry coast, destined to be famed in story as Fort del Ore, This was a singular rock, a dimi- nutive Gibraltar, jutting into the harbour or bay of Smer- wick. Even previously its natural strength as a site for a fort had been noticed, and a rude fortification of some sort 15 22G THE STORY OF IRELAND. crowned the rock. Here James landed his small force, threw np an earthwork across the narrow neck of land connecting the ''Isle of Gold'' with the mainland, and waited for news of Stukely. But Stukely never came 1 There did come, however, unfortunately for James, an English man-of-war, which had little difficulty in capturing his transports within sight of the helpless fort. All hope of the expected expedition soon fled, or mayhap its fate became known, and matters grew desperate on Illan-an-Oir. Still the earl made no sign. His brothers John and James, however, less timid or more true to kinship, had chivalrously hastened to join Fitz- maurice. But it was clear the enterprise was lost. The government forces were mustering throughout Munster, arid nowhere was help being organized. In this strait it was decided to quit the fort and endeavour to reach the old fastnesses amidst the Galtees. The little band in their eastward march were actually pursued by the earl of Des- mond, not very much in earnest indeed — in downright sham, the English said, yet in truth severely enough to compel them to divide into three fugitive groups, the papal legate and the other dignitaries remaining with Fitzmauiice. Making a desperate push to reach the Shannon, his horses utterly exhausted, the brave Geraldine was obliged to impress into his service some horses belonging to Sir William Burke, through whose lands he was then passing. Burke, indeed, was a relative of his, and Fitzmaurice thought that revealing his name would silence all objection. On the contrary, how- ever, this miserable Burke assembled a force, pursued the fugitives, and fell upon them, as "few and faint", jaded and outworn, they had halted at the little river Mulkern in Lime- rick county. Fitzmaurice was wounded mortally early in the fray, yet his ancient prowess flashed out with all its native brilliancy at the last. Dashing into the midst of his dastard foes, at one blow he clove to earth Theobald Burke, and in another instant laid the brother of Theobald mortally wounded at his feet. The assailants, though ten to one, at once turned and fled. But alas ! vain was the victory — James Geraldine had received his death wound I Calmly receiving the last rites of the Church at the I THE STORY OF IRELAND. 227 hands of Dr. Allen, and having with his last breath dictated a message to his kinsmen enjoining them to take up tl\e banner fallen in his hand, and to fight to the last in the holy war — naming his cousin John of Desmond as leader to succeed him — the chivalrous Fitzmaurice breathed his last sigh. "Such", says the historian, "was the fate of the glorious hopes of Sir James Fitzmaurice ! So ended in a squabble with churls about cattle, on the banks of an insigni [leant stream, a career which had drawn the atten- tion of Europe, and had inspired with apprehension the lion-hearted English queen!" Faithful to the dying message of Fitzmaurice, John of Desmond now avowed his resolution to continue the struggle ; which he did bravely, and not without brilliant results. But the earl still " stood on the fence". Still would he fain persuade the government that he was quite averse to the mad designs of his unfortunate kinsmen ; and still government, fully believing him a sympathiser with the movement, lost no opportunity of scornfully taunting him with insinuations. Eventually they com- menced to treat his lands as the possessions of an enemy, wasting and harrying them ; and at length the earl, finding too, late that in such a struggle there was for him no neu- trality, took the field. But this step on his part, which if it had been taken earlier, might have had a powerful effect, was now, as I have said, all too late for any substantial influence upon the lost cause. Yet he showed by a few brilliant victories at the very outset that he was, in a military sense, not all unworthy of his position as First Geraldine. The Spanish king, too, had by this time been moved to the aid of the struggle. The Fort del Ore once more received an expedition from Spain, where this time there landed a force of 7 00 Spaniards and Italians, under the command of Sebastian San Josef, Hercules Pisano, and the Duke of Biscay. They brought moreover arms for 5,000 men, a large supply of money, and cheering promises of still further aid from over the sea. Lord Grey, the deputy, quickly saw that probably the future existence of British power in Ireland depended upon the swift and sud- den crushing of this formidable expedition; accordingly 228 THE STORY OF IRRLAND. with all vehemence did lie strain every energy to concen- trate with rapidity around Fort del Ore, by land and sea, an overwhelming force before any aid or cooperation conld reach it from the Geraldines, "Among the officers of the besieging force were three especially notable men — Sir Walter Kaleigh, the poet Spenser, and Hugh O'Neill — afterwards Earl of Tyrone, but at this time commanding a squadron of cavalry for her majesty queen Elizabeth. San Josef surrendered the place on conditions; that savage outrage ensued, which is known in Irish history as Hhe massacre of Smerwick'. Ealeigh and Wingfield appear to have directed the operations by which 800 prisoners of war were cruelly butchered and flung over the rocks. The sea upon that coast is deep, and the tide swift; but it has not proved deep enough to hide that horrid crime, or to wash the stains of such wanton bloodshed from the memory of its authors!"* It may be said that the Geraldine cause never rallied after this disaster. " For four years longer", says the his- torian whom I have just quoted, *Hhe Geraldine League flickered in the south. Proclamations offering pardon to all concerned, except earl Gerald and a few of his most devoted adherents, had their effect. Deserted at home, and cut off from foreign assistance, the condition of Desmond grew more and more intolerable. On one occasion he narrowly escaped capture by rushing with his countess into a river, and remaining concealed up to the chin in water. His dangers can hardly be paralleled by those of Bruce after the battle of Falkirk, or by the more familiar adventures of Charles Edward. At length on the night of the 11th November, 1584, he was surprised with only two followers in a lonesome valley, about five miles dis- tant from Tralee, among the mountains of Kerry. The spot is still remembered and the name of Hhe Earl's Road' transports the fancy of the traveller to that tragical scene. Cowering over the embers of a half-extinct fire in ^miserable hovel, the lord of a country which in time of THE STORY OF IRELAND. 229 peace had yielded an annual rental of * 40,000 golden pieces', was despatched by the hands of common soldiers, without pity, or time, or hesitation. A few followers watching their creaghts or herds, farther up the valley, found his bleeding trunk flung out upon the highway ; the head was transported over seas to rot upon the spikes of London Tower". Such was the end of the great Geraldine League of 1579. Even the youngest of my readers must have noticed in its plan and constitution, one singular omission which proved a fatal defect. It did not raise the issue of national independence at all. It made no appeal to the national aspirations for liberty. It was simply a war to compel Elizabeth to desist from her bloody persecution of the Catholic faith. Furthermore it left out of calculation altogether the purely Irish elements. It left all the nor- thern half of the kingdom out of sight. It was only a southern movement. The Irish princes and chiefs — those of them most opposed to the English power — never viewed the enterprise with confidence or sympathy. Fitzmaurice devoted much more attention to foreign aid than to native combination. In truth his movement was simply an Anglo- Irish war to obtain freedom of conscience, and never raised issues calculated to call forth the united efforts of the Irish nation in a war against England. Before passing to the next great event of this era, I may pause to note here a few occurrences worthy of record, but for which I did not deem it advisable to break in upon the consecutive narration of the Geraldine war. My endeavour throughout is to present to my young readers in clear and distinct outline, a sketch of the chief event of each period more or less complete by itself, so that it may be easily comprehended and remembered. To this end I omit many minor incidents and occuiTences, which, if engrafted or brought in upon the main narrative, might have a tendency to confuse and bewilder the facts in one's recollection. 230 THE STORy OF IRELAND. XXXVII. — HOW COMMANDER COSBY HELD A FEAST AT MUL- LAGHMAST; and how ^'RUARI OGE" RECOMPENSED THAT "hospitality". A viceroy's visit to GLENMALURE, AND his reception THERE. T was within the period which we have just passed over, that the ever-memorable massacre of Mullaghmast occurred. It is not, unhappily, the only tragedy of the kind to be met with in our blood-stained annals ; yet it is of all the most vividly perpetuated in popular traditions. In 1577, Sir Francis Cosby, commanding the queen's troops in Leix and Offaly, formed a diabolical plot for the permanent conquest of that district. Peace at the moment prevailed between the government and the inhabitants; but Cosby seemed to think that in extirpation lay the only effectual security for the crown. Feigning, however, great friendship, albeit suspicious of some few "evil disposed" persons, said not to be well- affected, he invited to a grand feast all the chief families of the territory ; attendance thereat being a sort of test of amity. To this summons responded the flower of the Irish nobility in Leix and Offaly, with their kinsmen and friends —the O'Mores, O'Kellys, Lalors, O'Nolans, etc. The "banquet" — alas! — was prepared by Cosby in the great Eath or Fort of Mullach-Maisten, or Mullaghmast, in Kildare county. Into the great rath rode many a pleasant cavalcade that day ; but none ever came forth that entered in. A gentleman named Lalor who had halted a little way off, had his suspicions in some way aroused. He noticed, it is said, that while many went into the rath, none were seen to reappear outside. Accordingly he desired his friends to remain behind while he advanced and recon- noitred. He entered cautiously. Inside, what a horrid spectacle met his sight ! At the very entrance the dead bodies of some of his slaughtered kinsmen ! In an instant he himself was set upon ; but drawing his sword, he hewed his way out of the fort and back to his friends, and they IHE STORY OF IRELANt). 281 barely escaped with their lives to Dysart ! He was the only Irishman, out of more than four hundred who entered the fort that day, that escaped with life ! The invited guests were butcherd to a man; one hundred and eighty of the 0' Mores alone having thus perished. The peasantry long earnestly believed and asserted that on the encircled rath of slaughter rain nor dew never fell, and that the ghosts of the slain might be seen, and their groans distinctly heard " on the solemn midnight blast" ! — O'er the Rath of Mullaghmast, On the solemn midnight blast, What bleeding spectres pass'd With their gashed breasts bare! Hast thou heard the fitful wail That o'erloads the sullen gale When the waning moon shines pale O'er the cursed ground there? Hark! hollow moans arise Through the black tempestuous skies, And curses, strife, and cries, From the lone rath swell > For bloody Sydney there Nightly fills the lurid air With the unholy pompous glare Of the foul, deep hell. False Sydney! knighthood's stain ! The trusting brave — in vain Thy guests — ride o'er the plain To thy dark cow'rd srare ; Flow'r of Offaly and Leix, They have come thy board to grace — Fools! to meet a faithless race, Save with true b words bare. While cup and song abound. The triple lines surround The closed and guarded mound. In the night's dark noon. Alas! too brave O'Moore, Ere the revelry was o'er, They have spill'd thy young heart's gore, Snatch'd from lovo too soon! 232 THE STORY OF IRELAND. At the feast, unarmed all, Priest, bard, and chieftain fall In the treacherw^ Saxon's hall, O'er the bright wine bowl; And now nightly round the board, With unsheath'd and reeking sword, Strides the cruel (elon lord Of the blood stain'd souL Since that hour the clouds that pass'd O'er the Rath of Mullaghmast, One tear have never cast On the gore dyed sod; For the shower of crimson rain That o'erflowed that fatal plain, Cries aloud, and not in vain. To the most high God! A sword of vengeance tracked Cosby from that day. In Leix or Offaly after this terrible blow there was no raising a regular force ; yet of the family thus murderously cut down, there remained one man who thenceforth lived but to avenge his slaughtered kindred. This was Ruari Oge 0' Moore, the guerilla chief of Leix and Offaly, long the terror and the scourge of the Pale. While be lived, none of Cosby's "undertakers" slept securely in the homes of the plundered race. Swooping down upon their castles aid mansions, towns and settlements, Ruari became to them an Angel of Destruction. When they deemed him farthest away, his sword of vengeance was at hand. In the lurid glare of burning roof and blazing granary, they saw like a spectre from the rath, the face of an O'Moore; and, above the roar of the flames, the shrieks of victims, or the crash of falling battlements, they heard in the hoarse voice of an implacable avenger — Remember MuU laghmast And the sword of Ireland still was swift and strong to pursue the author of that bloody deed, and to strike him and his race through two generations. One by one they met their doom — In the lost battle Borne down by the flying; Where mingles war's rattle With the groana of the dying. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 233 On the bloody day of Glenmalure, when the red flag of England went down in the battle's hurricane, and Eliza- beth's proud viceroy; Lord (iray de Wilton, and all the chivalry of the Pale were scattered and strewn like autumn leaves in the gale, Cosby of Mullaghmast fell in the rout, sent swiftly to eternal judgment with the brand of Cain upon his brow. A like doom, a fatality, tracked his chil- dren from generation to generation I They too perished by the sword or the battle-axe — the last of them, son and grandson, on one day, by the stroke of an avenging O'More* — until it may be questioned if there now exists a human being in whose veins runs the blood of the greatly infamous knight commander. Sir Francis Cosby. The battle of Glenmalure was fought 25th of August, 1580. That magnificent defile, as I have already re- marked, in the words of one of our historians, had long been for the patriots of Leinster "a fortress dedicated by nature to the defence of freedom"; and never had fortress of freedom a nobler soul to command its defence than he who now held Glenmalure for God and Ireland — Feach M^Hugh O'Byrne, of Ballinacor, called by the English ^^The Fire- brand of the Mountains". In his time no sword was drawn for liberty in any corner of the island, near or far, that his own good blade did not leap responsively from its scabbard to aid the good old cause". Whether the tocsin was sounded in the north or in the south, it ever woke pealing echoes amidst the hills of Glenmalure. As in later years, Feach of Ballinacor was the most trusted and faithful of Hugh O'Neill's friends and allies, so was he now in arms stoutly battling for the Geraldine league. His son-in-law, Sir Francis Fitzgerald, and James Eustace, Viscount Bal- tinglass, had rallied what survived of the clansmen of Idrone, Offaly, and Leix, and had effected a junction with him, taking up strong positions in the passes of Slieveroe and Glenmalure. Lord Grey of Wilton arrived as lord lieutenant from England on the 12th August. * " Ouney, son of Ruari Oge O'More, slew Alexander and Francis Cosby, son and grandson of Cosby of Mullaghmast, and routed their troops with great slaughter, atStradbally Bridge, 19th May, 1597". 234 THB STORY OF IRELANI). Eager to signalise his advent to office by some brilliant achievement, lie rejoiced greatly that so near at hand — within a day's march Dublin Castle — an opportunity presented itself. Yes! He would measure swords with this wild chief of Glenmalure who had so often defied the power of England. He would extinguish the "Fire- brand of the Mountain", and plant the cross of St. George on the ruins of Ballinacor ! So, assembling a right royal host, the haughty viceroy marched upon Glenmalure. The only accounts which we possess of the battle are those contained in letters written to England by Sir William Stanley and others of the lord lieutenant's officials and subordinates ; so that we may be sure the truth is very scantily revealed. Lord Grey having arrived at the en- trance to the glen, seems to have had no greater anxiety than to "hem in" the Irish So he constructed a strong earthwork or entrenched camp at the mouth of the valley the more effectually to stop "escape"! It never once oc- curred to the vain-glorious English viceroy that it was he himself and his royal army that were to play the part of fugitives in the approaching scene ! All being in readiness, Lord Grey gave the order of the advance ; he and a group of courtier friends taking their place on a high ground commanding a full view up the valley, so that they might lose nothing of the gratifying spectacle antici- pated. An ominous silence prevailed as the English regi- ments pushed their way into the glen. The courtiers waxed witty ; they wondered whether the game had not " stolen away"; they sadly thought there would be " no sport"; or they halloed right merrily to the troops to follow on and " unearth" the " old fox". After a while the way became more and more tedious. " We were", says Sir William Stanley, " forced to slide sometimes three or four fathoms ere we could stay our feet"; the way being " full of stones, rocks, logs, and wood ; in the bottom thereof a river full of loose stones which we were driven to cross divers times". At length it seemed good to Feach M^Hugh 0' Byrne to declare that the time had come for action. Then from the forest-clad mountain sides there burst forth a wild shout whereat many of the jesting courtiers turned tHE STORY OF IRELAND. 235 pale ; and a storm of bullets assailed the entangled English legions. As yet the foe was unseen ; but his execution was disastrous. The English troops broke into disorder. Lord Grey, furious and distracted, ordered up the re- serves; but now Feach passed the word along the Irish lines to charge the foe. Like the torrents of winter pour- ing down those hills, down swept the Irish force from every side upon the struggling mass below. Vain was all effort to wrestle against such a furious charge. From the very first it became a pursuit. How to escape was now each castle courtier's wild endeavour. Discipline was ut- terly cast aside in the panic rout ! Lord Grey and a few attendants fled early, and by fleet horses saved themselves ; but of all the brilliant host the viceroy had led out of Dublin a few days before, there returned but a few shat- tered companies to tell the tale of disaster, and to sur- round with new terrors the name of Feach M^Hugh, the Firebrand of the Mountains". XXXVIII. '*HUGH OF DUNGANNON". HOW QUEEN ELIZA- BETH BROUGHT UP THE YoUNG IRISH CHIEF AT COURT, WITH CERTAIN CRAFTY DESIGNS OF HER OWN. HERE now appears upon the scene of Irish his- tory that remarkable man whose name will live in song and story as long as the Irish race survives ; leader of one of the greatest struggles ever waged against the Anglo-Norman subju- gation; Ao-o (pronounced Aeh), Anglicised Hugh O'Neill; called in English "patents" Earl of Tyrone. Ever since the closing years of the eighth Henry's reign — the period at which, as I have already explained, the policy of splitting up the clans by rival chiefs began to be adopted by the English power — the government took care to provide itself, by fair means or by foul, with a 3upply of material from which crown chiefs might be taken. 236 THE STORY OP IRELAND. That is to say, tlie goverament took care to have in its hands, and trained to its own purposes, some member or members of each of the ruling families — the O'Neills, O'Reillys, O'Donnells, M'Guires, O'Connors, etc., ready to be setup as the king's or queen's 0'Neill,0'Reilly, or O'Don- nell, as the case might be, according as policy dictated and opportunity offered. One of these government proteges was Hugh O'Neill, who, when yet a boy, was taken to London and brought up in the court of Elizabeth. As he was a scion of the royal house of O'Neill, and, in English plannings, destined one day to play the most important part as yet assigned to a queen's chief in Ireland, viz., the reducing to subserviency of that Ulster which formed the standing menace of English power, the unconquerable citadel of nationality, the boy Hugh — the young Baron of Dungannon as he was called — was the object of unusual attention. He was an especial favourite with the queen, and as may be supposed the courtiers all, lords and ladies, took care to pay him suitable obeisance. No pains were spared with his education. He had the best tutors to at- tend upon him, and above all he was assiduously trained into court finesse, how to dissemble, and with smooth and smiling face to veil the true workings of mind and heart. In this way it was hoped to mould the young Irish chief into English shape for English purposes ; it never once occurring to his royal trainers that nature some day might burst forth and prove stronger than courtly artificiality, or that the arts they were so assiduously teaching the boy chief for the ruin of his country's independence, might be turned against themselves. In due time he was sent into the army to perfect his military studies, and eventually (fully trained, polished, educated, and prepared for the role designed for him by his English masters) he took up his residence at his family seat in Dungannon. Fortunately for the fame of Hugh O'Neill, and for the Irish nation in whose history he played so memorable a part, the life of that illustrious man has been written in our generation by a biographer worthy of the theme. Amongst the masses of Irishmen, comparatively little would be known of that wondrous career had its history THE STORY OP IRELAND. 237 not been popularised by Jobn Mitcbel's Lije of Hugh O^NeilL The dust of centuries bad been allowed to cover the noble picture drawn from life by the master band of Don Philip 0' Sullivan Beare — a writer but for whom we should now be without any contemporaneous record of the most eventful period of Anglo-Irish history, save the un- just and distorted versions of bitterly partizan English officials.* Don Philip's history, however, was practically inaccessible to the masses of Irishmen; and to Mr. Mitchel is almost entirely owing the place O'Neill now holds — his rightful prominence — in popular estimation. Mr. Mitchel pictures the great Ulster chieftain to us a patriot from the beginning ; adroitly and dissemblingly biding his time ; learning all that was to be learned in the camp of the enemy ; looking far ahead into the future, and shaping his course from the start with fixed purpose towards the goal of national independence. This, how- ever, cannot well be considered more than a " view", a " theory", a reading". O'Neill was, during his earlier ca- reer, in purpose and in plan, in mind, manner, and action, quite a different man from the O'Neill of his later years. It is very doubtful that he had any patriotic aspirations after national independence — much less any fixed policy or de- sign tending thereto — until long after he first found him- self, by the force of circumstances, in collision with the English power. In him we see the conflicting influences of nature and nature-repressing art. His Irishism was ineradicable, though long dormant. His court tutors strove hard to eliminate it, and to give him instead a "polished" * To Don Philip's great work the Historice Oatholicce Tbernice, we are indebted for nearly all that we know of this memorable struggle. **He is", says Mr. Mitchel, **the only writer, Irish or foreign, who gives an intelligible account of O'Neill's battles; but he was a sol- dier as well as a chronicler". Another writer says, **The loss of this history could not be supplied by any work extant'*. Don Philip was nephew to Donal, last lord of Beare, of whom we shall hear more anon. The Historice Ibernice was written in Latin, and published about the year 1621, in Lisbon, the O'SuUivans having settled in Spain after the fall of Dunboy. THE STor^Y OF IRELAND. Englishism ; but they never more than partially snc- ceeded. They put a court lacquer on the Celtic material, and the superficial wash remained for a few years, not more. The voice of nature was ever crying out to Hugh O'Neill. For some years after leaving court, he lived very much like any other Anglicised or English ba- ron, in his house at Dungannon. But the touch of his native soil, intercourse with neighbouring Irish chief- tains, and the force of sympathy with his own people, now surrounding him, were gradually telling upon him. His life then became a curious spectacle of inconsisten- cies, as he found himself pulled and strained in opposite directions by opposite sympathies, claims, commands, or impulses; sometimes, in proud disregard of his English masters, behaving like a true Irish O'Neill ; at other times swayed by his foreign allegiance into acts of very obedient suit and service to the queen's cause. But the day was gradually nearing when these struggles between two alle- giances were to cease, and when Hugh, with all the fer- vour of a great and noble heart, was to dedicate his life to one unalterable purpose, the overthrow of English rule the liberation of his native land i THE STORY OF IRELAND. 239 XXXIX. — HOW LORD DEPUTY PERROT PLANNED A RIGHT CUNNING EXPEDITION, AND STOLE AWAY THE YOUTHFUL PRINCE OF TYRCONNELL. HOW, IN THE DUNGEONS OF DUBLIN CASTLE, THE BOY CHIEF LEARNED HIS DUTY ' TOWARDS ENGLAND ; AND HOW HE AT LENGTH ESCAPED AND COMMENCED DISCHARGING THAT DUTY. ^ EANWHILE, years li^^^ passed by, and an- - o ^ ^ other Hugh had be- gun to rise above the northern hori- zon, amidst signs and perturbations boding no good to and government of Thi^ was Hugh O'Donnell— HugJl Koe^' or Red Hugh" — son of the reign- ^ ing chief of Tyrconnell. Young O'Donnell, who was at this time " a fiery stripling of fifteen, was already known throughout the five pro- 240 THE STORY OP IRELAKD. vinces of Ireland, not only * hj the report of his beauty, his agility, and his noble deeds', but as a sworn foe to the Saxons of the Pale" ; and the mere thought of the possibility of the two Hughs — Hugh of Tyrone and Hugh of Tyrconnell— ever forming a com- bination, sufficed to fill Dublin Castle with dismay. For already indeed, Hugh CNeilFs loyalty" was beginning to be considered rather unsteady. To be sure, as yet no man durst whisper a word against him in the queen's hearing ; and he was still ready at call to do the queen's fighting against southern Geraldine, O'Brien, or Mac Caura. But the astute in these matters noted that he was unpleasantly neighbourly and friendly with the noi*thern chiefs and tanists ; that, so far from maintaining suitable ill-will towards the reigning O'Xeill (whom the queen meant him some day to overthrow), Hugh had actually treated him with respect and obedience. Moreover ^- the English knew", says the chronicler of Hugh Koe, that it was Judith, the daughter of O'Donnell, and sister of the beforementioned Hugh Eoe, that was the spouse and best beloved of the Earl O'Xeill". Those six companies of troops also", says Mr. Mitchel, that he kept on foot (in the queen's name, but for his own behoof) began to bp suspicious in the eyes of the state ; for it is much feared that he changes the men so soon as they thoroughly learn the use of arms, replacing them by others, all of his own clansmen, whom he diligently drills and reviews for some unknown service. And the lead he imports — surely the roofing of that house of Dungannon will not need all these ship-loads of lead ; — lead enough to sheet Glenshane, or clothe the sides of Cairnocher. And, indeed, a rumour does reach the deputy in Dublin, that there goes on at Dungannon an incredible casting of bullets. No wonder that the eyes of the English government began to turn anxiously to the north". And if this princely Red Hugh should live to take the leading of his sept — and if the two potent chieftains of the north should forget their ancient feud, and unite for the cause of Ireland", proceeds Mr. Mitchel, then, indeed, not only this settlement of the Ulster * counties' must be THE STORY OF IRELAND. 241 adjourned, one knows not how long; but the Pale itself or the Castle of Dublin might hardly protect her majesty's officers. These were contingencies which any prudent agent of the queen of England must speedily take order to prevent ; and we are now to see Perrot's derice for that end. " Near Rathmullan, on the western shore of Lough Swilly, looking towards the mountains of Innishowen, stood a monastery of Carmelites and a church dedicated to the Blessed Virgin, the most famous place of devotion in Tyrconnell, whither all the clan-Connell, both chiefs and people, made resort at certain seasons to pay their devo- tions. Here the young Eed Hugh, with Mac Swyne of the battle-axes, O'Gallagher of Ballyshannon, and some other chiefs, were in the summer of 1587 sojourning a short time in that part to pay their vows of religion ; but not without stag-hounds and implements of chase, having views upon the red-deer of Fanad and Innishowen. One day, while the prince was here, a swift-sailing merchant ship doubled the promontory of Dunaff, stood up the lough, and cast anchor opposite Rathmullan; a *bark, black- hatched, deceptive', bearing the flag of England, and offering for sale, as a peaceful trader, her cargo of Spanish wpne. And surely no more courteous merchant than the master of that ship had visited the north for many a year. He invited the people most hospitably on board, solicited them, whether purchasers or not, to partake of his good cheer, entertained them with music and wine, and so gained very speedily the good will of all Fanad. Red Hugh and his companions soon heard of the obliging mer- chant and his rare wines. They visited the ship, where they were received with all respect, and, indeed, with un • feigned joy; descended into the cabin, and with connois seur discrimination tried and tasted, and finally drank too deeply; and at last when they would come on deck and return to the shore, they found themselves secured under hatches; their weapons had been removed; night had fallen ; they were prisoners to those traitor Saxons. Morn- ing dawned, and they looked anxiously towards the shore ; but, ah ! where is Rathmullan and the Carmelite church? And what wild coast is this? Past Malin and the cliffs of 16 242 THE STORY OF IRELAND. Innisliowen; past Benmore, and southward to the shores of Antrim and the mountains of Mourne flew that ill-omened bark, and never dropped anchor till she lay under the towers of Dublin. The treacherous Perrot joyfully re- ceived his prize, and ^exulted', says an historian, 'in the easiness and success with which he had procured hostages for the peaceable submission of O'Donnell'. And the prince of Tyrconnell was thrown into ' a strong stone castle', and kept in heavy irons three years and three months, ' meditating', says the chronicle, ' on the feeble and impotent condition of his friends and relations, of his princes and supreme chiefs, of his nobles and clergy, his poets and professors.' Three long and weary years — oh! out they seemed three ages ! — the young Hugh pined in the grated dungeons of that '^Bermingham Tower", which still stands in Dublin Castle yard. How the fierce hot spirit of the impetuous northern youth chafed in this cruel captivity ! He, accus- tomed daily to breathe the free air of his native hills in the pastimes of the chase, now gasped for breath in the close and fetid atmosphere of a squalid cell! He, the joy and the pride of an aged father — the strong hope of a thousand faithful clansmen — was now the helpless object of jailers' insolence, neglect, and persecution! Three years and three months", the old chroniclers tell us, — when hark ! there is whispering furtively betimes as young Hugh and Art Kavanagh, and other of the captives meet on the stone stairs, or the narrow landing, by the warders' gracious courtesy. Yes; Art had a plan of escape. Escape! Oh! the thought sends the blood rushing hotly through the veins of Red Hugh. Escape ! Home ! Free- dom on the Tyrconnell hills once more! blessed, thrice blessed words ! It is even so. And now all is arranged, and the daring attempt waits but a night favourably dark and wild — which comes at last ; and while the sentries shelter them- selves from the pitiless sleet, the young fugitives, at peril ♦Mitchers Life of Hugh O'JSleill THE STORY OF IRELAND. 248 of life or limb, are stealthily scaling or descending bastion and battlement, fosse and barbican. With beating hearts they pass the last sentry, and now through the city streets they grope their way southwards ; for the nearest hand of succour is amidst the yalleys of Wicklow. Theirs is a slow and toilsome progress ; they know not the paths, and they must hid© by day and fly as best they can in the night-time through wooded country. At length they cross the Three Kock Mountain, and look down upon Glencree. But alas ! Young Hugh sinks down exhausted ! Three years in a dungeon have cramped his limbs, .and he is no longer the Hugh that bounded like a deer on the slopes of Glenvigh ! His feet are torn and bleeding from sharp rock and piercing bramble ; his strength is gone ; he can no further fly. He exhorts his companions to speed on- wards and save themselves, while he secretes himself in the copse and awaits succour if they can send it. Keluc- tantly, and only yielding to his urgent entreaties, they departed. A faithful servant, we are told, who had been in the secret of Hugh's escape, still remained with him, and repaired for succour to the house of Felim] O'Tuhal, the beautiful site of whose residence is now called Powers- court. Felim was known to be a friend, though he dared not openly disclose the fact He was too close to the seat of the English power, and was obliged to keep on terms with the Pale authorities. But now "the flight of the prisoners had created great excitement in Dublin, and numerous bands were despatched in pursuit of them". It was next to impossible — certainly full of danger — for the friendly O'Tahal, with the English scouring-parties spread all over hill and vale, to bring in the exhausted and helpless fugitive from his hiding place, where never- theless he must perish if not quickly reached. Sorrow- fully and reluctantly Felim was forced to conclude that all hope of escape for young Hugh this time must be aban- doned, and that the best course was to pretend to discover him in the copse, and to make a merit of giving him up to his pursuers. So, with a heart bursting with mingled rage, grief, and despair, Hugh found himself once more in the gripe of his savage foes. He was brought back to 244 THE STORY OP IRELAND. Dublin "loaded with heavy iron fetters", and flung into a narrower and stronger dungeon, to spend another year cursing the day that Norman foot had touched the Irish shore. There he lay until Christmas Day, 25th December, 1592, "when", says the old chronicle, "it seemed to the Son of the Virgin time for him to escape". Henry and Art O'Neill, fellow-prisoners, were on this occasion com- panions of Hugh's flight. In fact the lord deputy, Fitz- william, a needy and corrupt creature, had taken a bribe from Hugh O'Neill to afl'ord opportunity for the escape. Hugh of Dungannon had designs of his own in desiring the freedom of all three; for events to be noted further on had been occurring, and already he was, like a skilful statesman, preparing for future contingencies. He knew that the liberation of Eed Hugh would give him an ally worth half Ireland, and he knew that rescuing the two O'Neills would leave the government without a " queen's O'Neill" to set up against him at a future day. Of this escape Haverty gives us the following account : — " They descended by a rope through a sewer which opened into the Castle ditch; and leaving there the soiled outer garments, they were conducted by a young man, named Turlough Roe O'Hagan, the confidential servant or emissary of the Earl of Tyrone, who was sent to act as their guide. Passing through the gates of the city, which were still open, three of the party reached the same Slieve Rua which Hugh had visited on the former occasion. The fourth, Henry O'Neill, strayed from his companions in some way — probably before they left the city — but even- tually he reached Tyrone, where the earl seized and im- prisoned him, Hugh Roe and Art O'Neill, with their faithful guide, proceeded on their way over the Wicklow mountains towards Glenmalure, to Feagh Mac Hugh 0' Byrne, a chief famous for his heroism, and who was then in arms against the government. Art O'Neill had grown corpulent in prison, and had besides been hurt in descending from the Castle, so that he became quite worn out from fatigue. The party were also exhausted with hunger, and as the snow fell thickly, and their clothing THE STORY OF IRELAND. 245 was very scanty, they suffered additionally from intense cold. For awhile Red Hugh and the servant sup- ported Art between them; but this exertion could not long be sustained, and at length Red Hugh and Art lay down exhausted under a lofty rock, and sent the servant to Glenmalure for help. With all possible speed Feagh O' Byrne, on receiving the message, despatched some of his trusty men to carry the necessary succour; but they arrived almost too late at the precipice under which the two youths lay. * Their bodies', say the Four Masters, ' were covered with white-bordered shrouds of hailstones freezing around them, and their light clothes adhered to their skin, so that, covered as they were with the snow, it did not appear to the men who had arrived that they were human beings at all, for they found no life in their members, but just as if they were dead'. On being raised up. Art O'Neill fell back and expired, and was buried on the spot; but Red Hugh was revived with some difficulty, and carried to Glenmalure, where he was secreted in a sequestered cabin and attended by a physician". Mr. Mitchel describes for us the sequel. "O'Byrne brought them to his house and revived and warmed and clothed them, and instantly sent a messenger to Hugh O'Neill (with whom he was then in close alliance) with the joyful tidings of O'Donnell's escape. O'Neill heard it with delight, and sent a faithful retainer, Tirlough Buidhe O'Hagan, who was well acquaintec' with the country, to guide the young chief into Ulsterc After a few days of rest and refreshment, O'Donnell and his guide set forth, and the Irish chronicler minutely details that perilous journey; — how they crossed the Liffey far to the westward of Fitzwilliam's hated towers, and rode cautiously through Fingal and Meath, avoiding the garrisons of the Pale, until they arrived at the Boyne, a short distance west of Inver Colpa (Drogheda), 'where the Danes had built a noble city'; how they sent round their horses through the town, and themselves passed over in a fisherman's boat ; how they passed by Mellifont, a great monastery, * which belonged to a noted young Englishman attached to Hugh O'Neill', and therefore met with no interruption there; 246 THE STORY OF IRELANt). rode right through Dundalk, and entered the friendly Irish country, where they had nothing more to fear. One night they rested at Feadth Mor (the Fews), where CNeiirs brother had a house, and the next day crossed the Blackwater at Moy, and so to Dungannon, where O'Neill received them right joyfully. And here Hhe two Hughs' entered into a strict and cordial friendship, and told each other of their wrongs and of their hopes. 0*Neill listened, with such feelings as one can imagine, to the story of the youth's base kidnapping and cruel im- prisonment in darkness and chains; and the impetuous Hugh Koe heard with scornful rage of the English de- puty's atrocity towards Mac Mahon, and attempts to bring his accursed sheriffs and juries amongst the ancient Irish of Ulster. And they deeply swore to bury for erer the unhappy feuds of their families, and to stand by each other with all the powers of the North against their treacherous and relentless foe. The chiefs parted, and O'Donnell, with an escort of the Tyrowen cavalry, passed into Mac Gwire's country. The chief of Fermanagh re- ceived him with honour, eagerly joined in the confederacy, and gave him ^ a black polished boat', in which the prince and his attendants rowed through Lough Erne, and glided down that ^pleasant salmon-breeding river' which leads to Ballyshannon and the ancient seats of the Clan-Conal. We may conceive with what stormy joy the tribes of Tyrconnell welcomed their prince ; with what mingled pity and wrath, thanksgivings and curses, they heard of his chains, and wanderings, and sufferings, and beheld the feet that used to bound so lightly on the hills, swollen and crippled by that cruel frost, by the crueller fetters of the Saxon. But little time was now for festal rejoicing or the unprofitable luxury of cursing; for just then, Sir Richard Bingham, the English leader in Connaught, relying on the irresolute nature of old O'Donnell, and not aware of Eed Hugh's return, had sent two hundred men by sea to Done- gal, where they took by surprise the Franciscan monas- tery, drove away the monks (making small account of their historic studies and learned annals), and garrisoned the buildings for the queen. The fiery Hugh could ill en- tHK STOilV OF IRELAND. dure to hear of these outrages, or brook an English gar- rison upon the soil of Tyrconnell. He collected the people in hot haste, led them instantly into Donegal, and com- manded the English by a certain day and hour to betake themselves with all speed back to Connaught, and leave behind them the rich spoils they had taken ; all which they thought it prudent without further parley to do. And so the monks of St. Francis returned to their home and their books, gave thanks to God, and prayed, as well they might, for Hugh O'Donnell". XL. — HOW HUGH OF DUNGANNON WAS MEANTIME DRAWING OFF FROM ENGLAND AND DRAWING NEAR TO IRELAND. ^ URING the four years over which the imprison- ment of Red Hugh extended, important events had been transpiring in the outer world; and amidst them the character of Hugh of Dungan- non was undergoing a rapid transmutation. We had already seen him cultivating friendly rela- tions with the neighbouring chiefs, though most of them were in a state of open hostility to the queen. He, by degrees, went much farther than this. He busied himself in the disloyal work of healing the feuds of the rival clans, and extending throughout the north feelings of amity — nay, a net-work of alliances between them. To some of the native princes he lends one or two of his fully trained companies of foot; to others, some troops of his cavalry. He secretly encourages some of them (say his enemies at court) to stouter resistance to the English. It is even said that he harbours Popish priests. " North of Slieve GuUion the venerable brehons still arbi- trate undisturbed the causes of the people; the ancient laws, civilization, and religion stand untouched. Nay, it is credibly rumoured to the Dublin deputy that this noble earl, forgetful apparently of his coronet and golden ch^in, and of his high favour with so potent a princess, doea THE STORY OF lRl^ANl>. about this time get recognized and solemnly inaugurated as chieftain of his sept, by the proscribed name of * Tht O'NeilV ; and at the rath of Tulloghoge, on the Stone of Royalty, amidst the circling warriors, amidst the bards and ollamhs of Tyr-eoghain, ' receives an oath to preserve all the ancient former customs of the country inviolable, and to deliver up the succession peaceably to his tanist ; and then hath a wand delivered to him by one whose proper office that is, after which, descending from the stone, he turneth himself round thrice forward and thrice back- ward', even as the O'Neills had done for a thousand years; altogether in the most un-English manner, and with the strangest ceremonies, which no garter king-at-arms could endure". While matters were happening thus in Ulster, England was undergoing the excitement of apprehended invasion. The Armada of Philip the Second was on the sea, and the English nation — queen and people — Protestant and Catholic — persecutor and persecuted — with a burst of genuine patriotism, prepared to meet the invaders. The elements, however, averted the threatened doom. A hur- ricane of unexampled fury scattered Philip's flotilla, so Tauntingly styled invincible" ; the ships were strewn, shattered wrecks, all over the coasts of England and Ire- land. In the latter country the crews were treated very differently, according as they happened to be cast upon the shores of districts amenable to English authority or influences, or the reverse. In the former instances they were treated barbarously — slain as queen's enemies, or given up to the queen's forces. In the latter, they were sheltered and succoured, treated as friends, and afforded means of safe return to their native Spain. Some of these ships were cast upon the coast of O'Neill's country, and by no one were the Spanish crews more kindly treated, more warmly befriended, than by Hugh, erstwhiles the queen's most favoured protege^ and still professedly her most true and obedient servant. This hospitality to the shipwrecked Spaniards, however, is too much for English flesh and blood to bear. Hugh is openly murmured against in Dublin and in London. And soon formal proof of his THE STORY OF IRELAND. 251 treason" is preferred. An envious cousin of his, known as John of the Fetters — a natural son of John the Proud, by the false wife of O'Donnell — animated by a mortal hatred of Hugh, gave information to the lord deputy that he had not only regaled the Spanish officers right royally at Dungannon, but had then and there planned with them an alliance between himself and king Philip, to whom Hugh — so said his accuser — had forwarded letters and presents by the said officers. All of which the said accuser undertook to prove, either upon the body of Hugh in mor- tal combat, or before a jury well and truly packed or empannelled, as the case might be. Whereupon there was dreadful commotion in Dublin Castle. Hugh's reply was — to arrest the base informer on a charge of treason against the sacred person and prerogatives of his lawful chief. Which charge being proved, John of the Fetters was at once executed. Indeed, some accounts say that Hugh himself had to act as executioner ; since in all Tyrone no man could be prevailed upon to put to death one of the royal race of Niall — albeit an attainted and condemned traitor. Then Hugh, full of a fine glowing indignation against these accusing murmurers in Dublin, sped straightway to London, to complain of them to the queen, and to convince her anew, with that politic hypo- crisy taught him (for quite a different use, though) in that same court, that her majesty had no more devoted admirer than himself. And he succeeded. He professed and pro- mised the most ample loyalty. He would undertake to harbour no more popish priests ; he would admit sheriffs into Tyrone; he would no more molest chiefs friendly to England, or befriend chiefs hostile to the queen; and as for the title of "The CNeilP', which, it was charged, he gloried in, while feeling quite ashamed of the mean English title, " Earl of Tyrone", he protested by her majesty's most angelic countenance (ah, Hugh !) that he merely adopted it, lest some one else might possess himself thereof; but if it in the least offended a queen so beauti- ful and so exalted, why he would disown it for ever I* * Thus, according to the tenor of English chroniclers; but as n 252 THE STORY OP IRELAND. Elizabeth was charmed by that dear sweet-spoken young noble— and so handsome too. (Hugh, who was brought up at court, knew Elizabeth's weak points.) The Lord of Dungannon returned to Ireland higher than ever in the queen's favour ; and his enemies in Dublin Castle were overturned for that time. The most inveterate of these was Sir Henry Bagnal, com- mander of the Newry garrison. " The marshal and his English garrison in the castle and abbey of Newry", says Mr. Mitchel, "were a secret thorn in the side of O'Neill, They lay upon one of the main passes to the north, and he had deeply vowed that one day the ancient monastery, de viridi ligno, should be swept clear of this foreign soldiery. But in that castle of Newry the Saxon marshal had a fair sister, a woman of rarest beauty, whom O'Neill thought it a sin to leave for a spouse to some churl of an English undertaker. And indeed we next hear of him as a love- suitor at the feet of the English beauty". Haverty tells the story of this romantic love-suit as follows: — " This man — the marshal. Sir Henry Bagnal — hated the Irish with a rancour which bad men are known to feel towards those whom they have mortally injured. He had shed a great deal of their blood, obtained a great deal of their lands, and was the sworn enemy of the whole race. Sir Henry had a sister who was young and exceedingly beautiful. The wife of the Earl of Tyrone, the daughter of Sir Hugh Mac Manus O'Donnell, had died, and the heart of the Irish chieftain was captivated by the beauti- ful English girl. His love was reciprocated, and he became in due form a suitor for her hand ; but all efforts to gain her brother's consent to this marriage were in vain. The story, indeed, is one which might seem to be borrowed from some old romance, if we did not find it circumstantially detailed in the matter-of-fact documents of the State Paper matter of fact Hugh had not at this time been elected as The O'Neill. This event occurred subsequently; the existing O'Neill having been persuaded or compelled by Hugh Roe of TyrconneU to abdicate, that the clans might, as they desired to do, elect Hugh of Dungannon in his place. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 253 Office. The Irisli prince and the English maiden mutually plighted their vows, and O'Neill presented to the lady a gold chain worth one hundred pounds ; but the inexorable Sir Henry removed his sister from Newry to the house of Sir Patrick Barnwell, who was married to another of his sisters, and who lived about seven miles from Dublin. Hither the earl followed her. He was courteously received by Sir Patrick, and seems to have had many friends among the English. One of these, a gentleman named William Warren, acted as his confidant, and at a party at Barnwell's house, the earl engaged the rest of the company in conversation while Warren rode off with the lady behind him, accompanied by two servants, and carried her safely to the residence of a friend at Drumcondra, near Dublin. Here O'Neill soon followed, and the Protestant bishop of Meath, Thomas Jones, a Lancashire man, was easily induced to come and unite them in marriage the same evening. This elope- ment and marriage, which took place on the 3rd of August, 1591, were made the subject of violent accusations against O'Neill. Sir Henry Bagnal was furious. He charged the earl with having another wife living ; but this point was explained, as O'Neill showed that this lady, who was his first wife, the daughter of Sir Brian Mac Felim O'Neill, had been divorced previous to his marriage with the daughter of O'Donnell. Altogether the government would appear to have viewed the conduct of O'Neill in this matter rather leniently ; but Bagnal was henceforth his most im- placable foe, and the circumstance was not without its io- fluence on succeeding events". 254 THE STORY OF IRELAND. ILL — HOW RED HUGH WENT CIRCUIT AGAINST THE ENGLISH IN THE NORTH. HOW THE CRISIS CAME UPON o'nEILL. i'^C^ Y this time young Hugh Eoe O'Donnell had, ""^ as we have already learned, escaped from his cruel captivity in Dublin, mainly by the help of that astute and skilful organiser, Hugh of Dungannon. In the spring of the year follow- ing, " on the 3rd of May, 1593, there was a solemn meeting of the warriors, clergy, and bards of Tyrconnell, at the Rock of Doune, at Kilmacrenan, ' the nursing place of Columbcille'. And here the father of Eed Hugh renounced the chieftaincy of the sept, and his impetuous son at nineteen years of age was duly inaugurated by Erenach O'Firghil, and made the O'Donnell with the ancient ceremonies of his race". The young chief did not wear his honours idly. In the Dublin dungeons he had sworn vows, and he was not the man to break them ; vows that while his good right hand could draw a sword, the English should have no peace in Ireland. Close by the O'Donnell's territory, in Strabane, old Torlogh Lynagh O'Neill had admitted an English force as " auxiliaries" forsooth. " And it was a heart- break", says the old chronicler, to Hugh O'Donnell, that the English of Dublin should thus obtain a knowledge of the country". He fiercely attacked Strabane, and chased the obnoxious English auxiliaries*' away, pardoning old Torlogh only on solemn promise not to repeat his offence. From this forth Eed Hugh engaged himself in what we may call a circuit of the north, rooting out English garri- sons, sheriffs, seneschals, or functionaries of what sort soever, as zealously and scrupulously as if they were plague-pests. Woe to the English chief that admitted a queen's sheriff within his territories! Hugh was down upon him like a whirlwind! O'Donnell's cordial ally in this crusade was Maguirelord of Fermanagh, a man truly worthy of such a colleague. Hugh of Dungannon saw with dire concern this premature conflict precipitated by Red THE STORY OF IRELAND. 255 Hugli's impetuosity. Very probably be was not unwilling that O'Donnell should find the English some occupation yet awhile in the north ; but the time had not at all arrived (in his opinion) for the serious and comprehensive under- taking of a stand up fight for the great stake of national freedom. But it was vain for him to try remonstrance with Hugh Roe, whose nature could ill brook restraint, and who, indeed, could not relish or comprehend at all the subtle and politic slowness of O'Neill. Hugh of Dungan- non, however, would not allow himself at any hazard to be pushed or drawn into open action a day or an hour sooner than his own judgment approved. He could hardly keep out of the conflict so close beside him, and so, rather than be precipitated prematurely into the struggle which, no doubt, he now deemed inevitable, and for which, accord- ingly, he was preparing, he made show of j oining the queen's side, and led some troops against Maguire. It was noted, however, that the species of assistance which he gave the English generally consisted in moderating" Hugh Roe's punishment of them, and pleading with him merely to sweep them away a little more gently; "interfering", as Moryson informs us, "to save their lives, on condition oj their instantly quitting the country T Now this seemed to the English (small wonder indeed) a very queer kind of "help". It was not what suited them at all; and we need not be surprised that soon Hugh's accusers in Dublin and in London once more, and more vehemently than ever, demanded his destruction. It was now the statesmen and courtiers of England be- gan to feel that craft may overleap itself. In the moment when first they seriously contemplated Hugh as a foe to the queen, they felt like "the engineer hoist by his own petard". Here was their own pupil, trained under their own hands, versed in their closest secrets, and let into their most subtle arts! Here was the steel they had polished and sharpened to pierce the heart of Ireland, now turned against their own breast I No wonder there was dismay and consternation in London and Dublin — it was so hard to devise any plan against him that Hugh would not divine like one of themselves 1 Failing: any better 256 THE STORY OF IRELAND. resort, it was resolved to inveigle him into Dublin by offer- ing bim a safe-conduct, and, this document notwithstand- ing, to seize him at all hazards. Accordingly Hugh was duly notified of charges againg^ his loyalty, and a royal safe-conduct was given to him that he might "come in and appear". To the utter astonishment of the plotters, he came with the greatest alacrity, and daringly confronted them at the council-board in the Castle ! He would have been seized in the room, but for the nobly honourable conduct of the Earl of Ormond, whose indignant letter to the lord treasurer Burleigh (in reply to the queen's order to seize O'Neill) is recorded by Carte: — My lord, I will never use treachery to any man; for it would both touch her highness's honour and my own credit too much; and whosoever gave the queen advice thus to write, is fitter for such base service than I am. Saving my duty to her majesty, I would I might have revenge by my sword of any man that thus persuaded the queen to write to me". Ormond acquainted O'Neill with the perfidy designed against him, and told him that if he did not fly that night he was lost, as the false deputy was drawing a cordon round Dublin. O'Neill made his escape, and pre- pared to meet the crisis which now he knew to be at hand. "News soon reached him in the north", as Mr. Mitchel recounts, "that large reinforcements were on their way to the deputy from England, consisting of veteran troops who had fought in Bretagne and Flanders under Sir John Norrys, the most experienced general in Elizabeth's ser- vice; and that garrisons were to be forced upon Bally- shannon and Belleek, commanding the passes into Tyr- connell, between Lough Erne and the sea. The strong for- tress of Portmore also, on the southern bank of the Black- water, was to be strengthened and well manned ; thus forming, with Newry and Gre^ncastle, a chain of forts across the island, and a basis for future operations against the north". 17 THE STORY OF IRELAKD. 259 XLII. — o'nEILL in arms for IRELAND. CLONTIBRET AND BEAL-AN-ATHA-BUIE. HERE was no misunderstanding all this. It was clear that, let King Philip send his pro- mised aid, or send it not, open and vigorous resistance must be made to the further pro- gress of foreign power, or Ulster would soon become an English province". Moreover, in all respects, save the aid from Spain, Hugh was well forward in organization and preparation. A great Northern Confederacy, the creation of his master- mind, now spanned the land from shore to shore, and waited only for him to take his rightful place as leader, and give the signal for such a war as had not tried the strength of England for two hundred years. "At last", says Mitchel, "the time had come; and Dungannon with stern joy beheld unfurled the royal standard of O'Neill, displaying, as it floated proudly on the breeze, that terrible Red Eight Hand upon its snow- white folds, waving defiance to the Saxon queen, dawning like a new Aurora upon the awakened children of Here- mon. "With a strong body of horse and foot, O'Neill sud- denly appeared upon the Blackwater, stormed Portmore, and drove away its garrison, ^as carefully', says an his- torian, *as he would have driven poison from his heart'; then demolished the fortress, burned down the bridge, and advanced into O'Reilly's country, everywhere driving the English and their adherents before him to the south (but without wanton bloodshed, slaying no man save ir battle, for cruelty is no where charged against O'NeilP; and, finally, with Mac Guire and Mac Mahon, he laid close siege to Monaghan, which was still held for the queen of England. O'Donnell, on his side, crossed the Saimer at the head" of his fierce clan, burst into Con- naught, and shutting up Bingham's troops in their strong places at Sligo, Ballymote, Tulsk, and Boyle, traversed tbo 260 THE STORY OF IRELAND. country with avenging fire and sword, putting to death every man who could speak no Irish, ravaging their lands, and seiding the spoil to Tyrconnell. Then he crossed the Shannon, entered the Annally's, where O'Ferghal was living under English dominion, and devastated that country so furiously, that Hhe whole firmament', says the chronicle, *was one black cloud of smoke'". This rapidity of action took the English at complete disadvantage. They accordingly (merely to gain time) feigned a great desire to "treat" with the two Hughs. Perhaps those noble gentlemen had been wronged. If so, the queen's tender heart yearned to have them reconciled; and so forth. Hugh, owing to his court training, under- stood this kind of thing perfectly. It did not impose upon him for a moment ; yet he consented to give audience to the royal commissioners, whom he refused to see except at the head of his army, "nor would he enter any walled town as liege man of the queen of England". " So they met", we are told, "in the open plain, in the presence of both armies". The conditions of peace demanded by Hugh were: — 1 . Complete cessation of attempts to disturb the Catholic Church in Ireland. 2. No more garrisons — no more sheriffs or English officials of any sort soever to be allowed into the Irish territories, which should be unrestrictedly under the juris- diction of their lawfully elected native chiefs. 3. Payment by Marshal Bagnal to O'Neill of one thousand pounds of silver "as a marriage portion with the lady whom he had raised to the dignity of an O^NeilVs hride^\ We may imagine how h^-rd the royal commissioners must have found it to even hearken to these propositions, especially this last keen touch at Bagnal. Nevertheless, they were fain to declare them very reasonable indeed ; only they suggested — merely recomm^nded for consideration — that as a sort of set-off, the confederates might lay down their arms, beg forgiveness, and "discover" their corres- pondence with foreign states. Phew ! There was a storm about their ears I Beg "pardon'' indeed! "The rebels THE STORY OF IRELAND. 261 grew insolent", says Moryson. The utmost that could be obtained from O'Neill was a truce of a few days' duration. Early in June, Bagnal took the field with a strong force, and effecting a junction with Norreys, made good his march from Dundalk to Armagh. Not far from Monaghan is Clontibret — Cluain-Tuberaid, the Lawn of the Spring". What befel there, I will relate in the words of Mr. Mit- chel : — " The castle of Monaghan, which had been taken by Con O'Neill, was now once more in the hands of the enemy, and once more was besieged by the Irish troops. Norreys, with his whole force, was in full march to relieve it ; and O'Neill, who had hitherto avoided pitched battles, and contented himself with harassing the enemy by con- tinual skirmishes in their march through the woods and bogs, now resolved to meet this redoubtable general fairly in the open field. He chose his ground at Clontibret, about five miles from Monaghan, where a small stream runs northward through a valley enclosed by low hills. On the left bank of this stream the Irish, in battle array, awaited the approach of Norreys. We have no account of the numbers on each side, but when the English general came up, he thought himself strong enough to force a pas- sage. Twice the English infantry tried to make good their way over the river, and twice were beaten back, their gallant leader each time charging at their head, and being the last to retire. The general and his brother. Sir Thomas, were bothwoundedin these conflicts, and the Irish counted the victory won, when a chosen body of English horse, led on by Segrave, a Meathian officer, of gigantic bone and height, spurred fiercely across the river, and charged the cavalry of Tyrowen, commanded by their prince in person. Segrave singled out O'Neill, and the two leaders laid lance in rest for deadly combat, while the troops on each side lowered their weapons and held their breath, awaiting the shock in silence The warriors met, and the lance of each was splintered on the other's corslet^ but Segrave again dashed his horse against the chief, flung his giant frame against his enemy, and endeavoured to un- horse him by the mere weight of his gauntletted hand 262 THE STORY OF IRELAND. O'Neill grasped him in his arms, and the combatants rolled together in that fatal embrace to the ground : — * Now, gaUant Saxon, hold thine own : No maiden's arms are round thee thrown*. There was one moment's deadly wrestle and a death groan: the shortened sword of O'Neill was buried in the English- man's groin beneath his mail. Then from the Irish ranks arose such a wild shout of triumph as those hills had never echoed before — the still thunder-cloud burst into a tempest — those equestrian statues become as winged demons, and with their battle cry of Lamh-dearg-aboo, and their long lances poised in eastern fashion above their heads, down swept the chivalry of Tyrowen upon the astonished ranks of the Saxon. The banner of St. George wavered and went down before that furious charge. The English turned their bridle-reins and fled headlong over the stream, leav- ing the field covered with their dead, and, worse than all, leaving with the Irish that proud red-cross banner, the first of its disgraces in those Ulster wars. Norreys hastily retreated southwards, and the castle of Monaghan was yielded to the Irish". This was opening the campaign in a manner truly worthy of a royal O'Neill. The flame thus lighted spread all over the northern land. Success shone on the Irish banners, and as the historian informs us, " at the close of the year 1595, the Irish power predominated in Ulster and Connacht". The proceedings of the next two years — 1596 and 1597 — during which^the struggle was varied by several efforts at negotiation, occupy too large a portion of history to be traced at length in these pages. The English forces were being steadily though slowly driven in upon the Pale from nearly all sides, and strenuous efforts were made to induce O'Neill to accept terms. He invariably professed the ut- most readiness to do so ; deplored the stern necessity that had driven him to claim his rights in the field, and debated conditions of peace; but, either mistrusting the designs of the English in treating with him, or because he had hopes THE STORY OF IRELAND. 263 far beyond anything they were likely to concede, he managed so that the negotiations somehow fell through at all times. On one occasion royal commissioners actually followed and chased him through the country with a royal pardon" and treaty, which they were beseeching him to accept, but O'Neill continued to miss" all appoint- ments with them. More than once the English bitterly felt that their quondam pupil was feathering his keenest arrows against them with plumes plucked from their own wing ! But it was not in what they called " diplomacy" alone Hugh showed them to their cost that he had not for- gotten his lessons. He could enliven the tedium of a siege — and, indeed, terminate it — by a ruse worthy of an humorist as of a strategist. On the expiration of one of the truces, we are told, he attacked Norreys' encampment with great fury, " and drove the English before him with heavy loss till they found shelter within the walls of Armagh". He sat down before the town and began a regular siege ; but the troops of Ulster were unused to a war of posts, and little skilled in reducing fortified places by mines, blockades, or artillery. They better loved a rushing charge in the open field, or the guerilla warfare of the woods and mountains, and soon tired of sitting idly be- fore battlements of stone. O'Neill tried a stratagem. Ge- neral Norieys had sent a quantity of provisions to relieve Armagh under a convoy of three companies of foot and a body of cavalry, and the Irish had surprised these troops by night, captured the stores, and made prisoners of all the convoy. O'Neill caused the English soldiers to be stripped of their uniform, and an equal number of his own men to be dressed in it, whom he ordered to appear by day break as if marching to relieve Armagh. Then, having stationed an ambuscade before morning in the walls of a ruined monastery lying on the eastern side of the city, he sent another body of troops to meet the red-coated gallo- glasses, so that when day dawned the defenders of Armagh beheld what they imagined to be a strong body of their countrymen in full march to relieve them with supplies of provisions, then they saw O'Neill's troops rush to attack these, and a furious conflict seemed to proceed, but appa- 2G4 THE STv>RY OF IRELAND. rently the English were overmatched, many of them fell, and the Irish were pressing forward, pouring in their shot and brandishing their battle axes with all the tumult of a deadly fight. The hungry garrison could not endure this sight. A strong sallying party issued from the city and rushed to support their friends ; but when they came to the field of battle all the combatants on both sides turned their weapons against them alone. The English saw the snare that had been laid for them, and made for the walls again; but Con O'Neill and his party issued from the monastery and barred their retreat. They defended themselves gallantly, but were all cut to pieces, and the Irish entered Armagh in triumph. Stafibrd and the remnant of his garrison were allowed to retire to Dundalk, and O'Neill, who wanted no strong places, dis- mantled the fortifications and then abandoned the town". Over several of the subsequent engagements in 1596 and 1597 I must pass rapidly, to reach the more important events in which the career of O'Neill culminated and closed. My young readers can trace for themselves on the page of Irish history the episodes of valour and patriotism that memorise Tyrrell's Pass " and " Portmore ". The ignis fa- fwwsof"aidfrom Spain" va> still in O'Neill's eyes. He was waiting — but striking betimes, parleying with royal com- missioners, and corresponding with King Philip, when he was not engaging Bagnal or Norreys ; Red Hugh meanwhile echoing in Connacht every blow struck by O'Neill in Ulster. At length in the summer of 1598, he seems to have thrown aside all reliance upon foreign aid, and to hav organised his countrymen for a still more resolute stand than any they yet had made against the national enemy. ^^In the month ol July, O'Neill sent messengers to Phelim Mac Hugh, then chief of the 0' Byrnes, that he might fall upon the Pale, as they were about to make em- ployment in the north for the troops of Ormond, and at the oame time he detached fifteen hundred men and sent them io assist his ally, O'More, who was then besieging Porte- loise, a fort of the English in Leix. Then he made a sud- den stoop upon the castle of Portmore, which, says Moryson, THE STORY OF IRELAND. 265 a great eye-sore to him lying upon the chiefe passage into his country', hoping to carry it by assault. Ormond now perceived that a powerful effort must be made by the English to hold their ground in the north, or Ulster might at once be abandoned to the Irish. Strong reinforcements were sent from England, and O'Neill's spies soon brought him intelligence of large masses of troops moving northward, led by Marshal Sir Henry Bagnal, and composed of the choicest forces in the queen's service. Newry was their place of rendezvous, and early in August, Bagnal found himself at the head of the largest and best appointed army of veteran Englishmen that had ever fought in Ireland. He succeeded in relieving Armagh, and dislodging O'Neill from his encampment at Mullagh- bane, where the chief himself narrowly escaped being taken, and then prepared to advance with his whole army to the Blackwater, and raise the siege of Portmore. Williams and his men were by this time nearly famished with hunger ; they had eaten all their horses, and had come to feeding on the herbs and grass that grew upon the walls of the fortress. And every morning they gazed anxiously over the southern hills, and strained their eyes to see the waving of a red-cross flag, or the glance of English spears in the rising sun. O'Neill hastily summoned O'Donnell and Mac William to his aid, and determined to cross the marshal's path, and give him battle before he reached the Blackwater. His entire force on the day of battle, including the Scots and the troops of Connaught and Tyrconnell, consisted of four thousand fi.ve hundred foot and six hundred horse, and Bagnal's army amounted to an equal number of infantry and five hundred veteran horsemen, sheathed in corslets and head pieces, together with some field artillery, in which O'Neill was wholly wanting. " Hugh Roe O'Donnell had snuffed the coming battle from afar, and on the 9th of August joined O'Neill with the clans of Connaught and Tyrconnell. They drew up their main body about a mile from Portmore, on the way to Armagh, where the plain was narrowed to a pass, en- closed on one side by a thick wood, and on the other by 266 THE STORY OF IRELAND. a bog. To arrive at that plain from Ann?.gli the enemy would have to penetrate through wooded hilJs, divided by winding and marshy hollows, in which flowed a sluggish and discoloured stream from the bogs, and hence the pass was called Beal-an-atha-huidhej ' the mouth of the yellow ford'. Fearfasa O'Clery, a learned poet of O'DonnelFs, asked the name of that place, and when he heard it, re- membered (and proclaimed aloud to the army) that St. Bercan had foretold a terrible battle to be fought at a yellow ford, and a glorious victory to be won by the an- cient Irish. " Even so, Moran, son of M^mn ! and for thee, wisest poet, O'Clery, thou hast this day served thy country well, for, to an Irish army, auguries of good were more needful than a commissariat; and those bards' songs, like the Dorian flute of Greece, breathed a passionate valour that no blare of English trumpets could ever kindle. Bagnal's army rested that night in Armagh, and the Irish bivouacked in the woods, each warrior covered by his shaggy cloak, under the stars of a summer night, for to 'an Irish rebel', says Edmund Spenser, Hhe wood is his house against all weathers, and his mantle is his couch to sleep in'. But O'Neill, we may well believe, slept not that night away ; the morrow was to put to proof what valour and discipline was in that Irish army, which he had been so long organizing and training to meet this very hour. Before him lay a splendid araiy of tried English troops in full march for his ancient seat of Dungannon, and led on by his mortal enemy. And O'Neill would not have had that host weakened by the desertion of a single man, nor commanded — no, not for his white wand of chieftaincy — by any leader but this his dearest foe". To Mr. Mitchel, whose vivid narrative I have so far been quoting, we are indebted for the following stirring description of O'Neill's greatest battle — ever memorable Beal-an-atha-huie : — ''The tenth morning of August rose bright and serene upon the towers of Armagh and the silver waters of Avon- more. Before day dawned the English army left the city in three divisions, and at sunrise they were winding through THE STORY OF IRELAND. 267 the hills and woods behind the spot where now stands the little church of Grange. " The sun was glancing on the corslets and spears of their glittering cavalry, their banners waved proudly, and their bugles rung clear in the morning air, when, suddenly, from the thickets on both sides of their path, a deadly volley of musketry swept through the foremost ranks. O'Neill had stationed here five hundred light armed troops to guard the defiles, and in the shelter of thick groves of fir trees they had silently waited for the enemy. Now they poured in their shot, volley after volley, and killed great numbers of the English ; but the first division, led by Bagnal in person, after some hard fighting, carried the pass, dislodged the marksmen from their position, and drove them backwards into the plain. The centre division under Cosby and Wingfield, and the rear-guard led by Cuin and Billing, supported in flank by the cavalry under Brooke, Montacute, and Fleming, now pushed forward, speedily cleared the difficult country, and formed in the open ground in front of the Irish lines. ^ It was not quite safe', says an Irish chronicler (in admiration of Bagnal's disposition of his forces) ' to attack the nest of griffins and den of lions in which were placed the soldiers of London'. Bagnal at the head of his first division, and aided by a body of cavalry, charged the Irish light-armed troops up to the very en- trenchments, in front of which O'Neill's foresight had pre- pared some pits, covered over with wattles and grass, and many of the English cavalry rushing impetuously forward, rolled headlong, both men and horses, into these trenches and perished. Still the marshal's chosen troops, with loud cheers and shouts of * St. George for merry England !' reso- lutely attacked the entrenchment that stretched across the pass, battered them with cannon, and in one place suc- ceeded, though with heavy loss, in forcing back their de- fenders. Then first the main body of O'Neill's troops was brought into action, and with bagpipes sounding a charge, they fell upon the English, shouting their fierce battle-cries, Lamh-dearg ! and O'Donnell abooi O'Neill himself, at the head of a body of horse, pricked forward to see«T <^ut Bagnal amidst the throng of battle, but they never met : 268 THE STORY OP IRELAND. the marshal, who had done his devoir that day like a good soldier, was shot through the brain by some unknown marksman. The division he had led was forced back by the furious onslaught of the Irish, and put to utter rout; and, what added to their confusion, a cart of gunpowder exploded amidst the English ranks and blew many of their men to atoms. And now the cavalry of Tyrconnell and Tyrowen dashed into the plain and bore down the remnant of Brooke's and Flemming's horse ; the columns of Wing- field and Cosby reeled before their rushing charge — while in front, to the war-cry of Bataillah-aboo ! the swords and axes of the heavy armed gallowglasses were raging amongst the Saxon ranks. By this time the cannon were all taken ; the cries of *St. George' had failed, or turned into death- shrieks; and once more, England's royal standard sunk before the Red Hand of Tyrowen". Twelve thousand gold pieces, thirty-four standards, and all the artillery of the vanquished army were taken. Nearly three thousand dead were left by the English on the field. The splendid army of the Pale was, in fact, annihilated. Beal-an-atha-buie, or, as some of the English chroni- clers call it, Blackwater, may be classed as one of the great battles of the Irish nation ; perhaps the greatest fought in the course of the war against English invasion. Other victories as brilliant and complete may be found recorded in our annals ; many defeats of English armies as utter and disastrous ; but most of these were, in a military point of view, not to be ranked for a moment with the Yellow Ford". Very nearly all of them were defile surprises, conducted on the simplest principles of warfare common to struggles in mountainous country. But Beal-an-atha- buie was a deliberate engagement, a formidable pitched battle between the largest and the best armies which England and Ireland respectively were able to send forth, and was fought out on principles of military science in which both O'Neill and Bagnal were proficients. It was a fair stand-up fight between the picked troops and chosen generals of the two nations ; and it must be told of the vanquished on that day, that, though defeated, thev were THE STORY OF IRELAND. 269 not distononred. The Irish annals and chants, one and all, do justice to the daring bravery and unflinching endurance displayed by Bagnal's army on the disastrous battle-field of Beal-an-atha-buie. As might be supposed, a victory so considerable as this has been sung by a hundred bards. More than one notable poem in the native Gaelic has celebrated its glory ; and quite a number of our modern bards have made it the theme of stirring lays. Of these latter, probably the best known is Drennan's ballad, from which I quote the opening and concluding verses : By O'Neill close beleaguer'd, tbe spirits might droop Of the Saxon three hundred shut up in their coop, Till Bagnal drew forth his Toledo, and swore On the sword oE a soldier to succour Portmore. His veteran troops, in the foreign wars tried, Their features how bronz'd, and how haughty their stride, Step'd steadily on ; it was thrilling to see That thunder-cloud broodiug o'er Beal-an-atha-Buidh ! The flash of their armour, inlaid with fine gold. Gleaming matchlocks and cannons that mutteringly roll'd, With the tramp and the clank of those stern cuirassiers, Dyed in blood of the Flemish and French cavaliers. • •»*«• Land of Owen aboo ! and the Irish rushed on : The foe fir'd but one volley — their gunners are gone. Before the bare l)osoms the steel coats have fled, Or, despite casque or corslet, lie dying or dead. And brave Harry Bagnal, he fell while he fought. With many gay gallants : they slept as men ought, Their faces to Heaven: there were others, alack! By pikes overtaken, and taken aback. And the Irish got clothing, coin, colours, great store, Arms, forage, and provender — plunder go leor. They munch'd the white manchets, they champ'dthe brown chine, Fuliluah for that day, how the natives did dine ! The chieftain looked on, when O'Shanagan rose, And cried : Hearken, O'Neill, I 've a health to propose — To our Sassenach hosts, and all quafted in huge glee. With Ctsad mile failte ao ! Beal-an-atha-buidh I THE STORY OF IRELAND, The same subject has been the inspiration of, perhaps, the most beautiful poem in Mr. Aubrey de Vere's Lyrical Chronicle of Ireland : — THE WAK-SONG OF TYRCONNELL's BARD AT THE BATTLE OF BLACK- WATER. Glory to God, and to the Powers that fight For Freedom and the Right ! We have them then, the invaders ! there they stand Once more on Oriel's land I They have pass'd the gorge stream cloven, And the mountain's purple bound ; Now the toils are round them woven, Now the nets are spread around ! Give them time : their steeds are blown ; Let them stand and round them stare. Breathing blasts of Irish air : Our eagles know their own ! Thou rising sun, fair fall Thy greeting on Armagh's time-honoured wall And on the willows hoar That fringe thy silver waters, Avonmore ! See ! on that hill of drifted sand The far-famed marshal holds command, Bagnal, their bravest : — to the right. That recreant, neither chief nor knight, " The Queen's O'Keilly", he that sold His country, clan, and church for gold ! " Saint George for England !" — recreant crew, What are the saints ye spurn to you ? They charge ; they pass yon grassy swell ; They reach our pit-falls hidden well : On ! — warriors native to the sod ! Be on them, in the power of God I Seest thou yon stream, whose tawny waters glide Through weeds and yellow marsh lingeringly and slowly ? Blest is that spot and holy ! There, ages past. Saint Bercan stood and cried, I'Ms spot shall quell one day th' invader's pride I" He saw in mystic trance The blood- stain flush yon rill : On I— hosts of God, advance ! Tour country's fate fulfil ! THE STORY OF IRELAND. 271 Hark ! the thunder of their meeting ! Hand meets hand, and rough the greeting I Hark ! the crash of shield and brand ; They mix, they mingle, band with band. Like Wo horn-commingling stags. Wrestling on the mountain crags, Intertwined, intertangled, Mangled forehead meeting mangled ! See I the wavering darkness tln-ough I see the banner of Ked Hugh ; Close beside is thine, O'Neill ! Now they stoop and now they reel. Rise once more and onward sail, Like two falcons on one gale ! O ye clansmen past me rushing, Like mountain torrents seaward gushing, Tell the chiefs that from this height Their chief of bards beholds the fight ; That on theirs he pours his spirit : Marks their deeds and chaunts their merit } While the Priesthood evermore, Like him that ruled God's host of yore. With arms outstretched that God implore ! # * * * * * Glory be to God on high ! That shout rang up into the sky I The plain lies bare ; the smoke drifts by ; Again that cry ; they fly ! they fly ! O'er them standards thirty-four Waved at mom : they wave no more. Glory be to Him alone who holds the nations in His hand. And to them the heavenly guardians of our Church and native land I Sing, ye priests, your deep Te Deum ; bards, make answer loud and long. In your rapture flinging heavenward censers of triumphant song. Isle for centuries blind in bondage, Uf t once more thine ancient boast, From the cliffs of Innishowen southward on to Carbery's coast ! We have seen the right made perfect, seen the Hand that rules the spheres. Glance like lightning through the clouds, and backward roll the wrongful years. Glory fadeth, but this triumph is no barren mundane glory ; Rays of healing it shall scatter on the eyes that read our story : Upon nations bound and torpid as they waken it shall shine. As on Peter in his chains the angel shone, with light divine. From th' unheeding, from th' unholy it may hide, like truth, its ray ; But when Truth and Justice conquer, on their crowns its beam shall play : 272 THE STORY OF IRELAND. O'er the ken of troubled tjrrants it shall trail a meteor's glare ; For the blameless it shall glitter as the star of morning fair ; Whensoever Erin triumphs, then its dawn it shall renew ; Then O'Neill shall be remember'd, and Tirconnell's chief, Eed Hugh ! The fame of this great victory filled the land. Not in Ireland alone did it create a sensation. The English his- torians tell us that for months nothing was talked of at court or elsewhere throughout England, but O'Neill and the great battle on the Blackwater, which had resulted so disastrously for ^^her Highness". Moryson himself in- forms us that "the generall voyce was of Tyrone amongst the English after the defeat of Blackwater, as of Hannibal amongst the Komans after the defeat at Cannse". The event got noised abroad, too, and in all the courts of Europe Hugh of Tyrone became celebrated as a military commander and as a patriot leader. XLII. — HOW HUGH FORMED A GREAT NATIONAL CONFEDERACY AND BUILT UP A NATION ONCE MORE ON IRISH SOIL. F Ulster was Ireland, Ireland now was free. But /^r^E^ all that has been narrated so far, has affected only half the island. The south all this time lay in the heavy trance of helplessness, suffer- ing, and despair, that had supervened upon the desolating Desmond war. At best the south was very unlikely to second with equal zeal, energy, and success, such an effort as the north had made. Munster was almost exclusively possessed by Anglo-Irish lords, or Irish chiefs in the power of, and sub- missive to, the English. Ulster was the stronghold of the native cause ; and what was possible there might be, and in truth was, very far from feasible in the colonised" southern province. Nevertheless, so irresistible was the inspiration of Hugh's victories in the north, that even the occupied, conquered, broken^ divided, and desolated south THE STORY OF IRELAND. 273 began to take heart and look upward[. Messengers were despatched to Hugh entreating him to send some duly authorised lieutenants to raise the standard of Church and Country in Munster, and take charge of the cause there. He complied by detaching Richard Tyrrell, of Fertullah, and Owen, son of Ruari 0' Moore, at the head of a chosen band, to unfurl the national flag in the southernprovin^es. They were enthusiastically received. The Catholic Anglo- Norman lords and the native chiefs entered into the move- ment, and rose to arms on all sides. The newly-planted settlers", or " undertakers" as they were styled — (Eng- lish adventurers amongst whom had been parcelled out the lands of several southern Catholic families, lawlessly seized on the ending of the Desmond rebellion) — fled pell mell, abandoning the stolen castles and lands to their rightful owners, and only too happy to escape with life.* The Lord President had to draw in every outpost, and abandon all Munster, except the garrison towns of Cork and Kilmallock, within which, cooped up like prisoners, he and his diminished troops were glad to find even momentary shelter. By the beginning of 1599, "no English force was able to keep the field throughout all Ireland". CNeill's authority was paramount — was loyally recognized and obeyed everywhere outside two or three garrison towns. He exercised the prerogatives of royalty ; issued commissions, conferred offices, honours, and titles ; removed or deposed lords and chiefs actively or passively disloyal to the national authority, and appointed others in their stead. And all was done so wisely, so impartially, so patriotically — with such scrupulous and fixed regard for the one great object, and no other — namely, the common cause of national independence and freedom — that even men chronically disposed to suspect family or clan selfish- * Amongst them was Spenser, a gentle poet and rapacious free- booter. His poesy was sweet, and full of charms, quaint, simple, and eloquent. His prose politics were brutal, venal, and cow- ardly. He wooed the muses very blandly, living in a stolen home, and philosophically counselled the extirpation of the Irish owners or the land, tor the greater **ecurity ot himself and fellow advei> tiirera, 18 274 THE STORY OF IRELAND. ness in every act, gave in their full confidence to him as to a leader who had completely sunk the clan chief in the national leader. In fine, since the days of Brian the First, no native sovereign of equal capacity— singularly qualified as a soldier and as a statesman — had been known in Ire- land. " He omitted no means of strengthening the league. He renewed his intercourse with Spain ; planted perma- nent bodies of troops on the Foyle, Erne, and Blackwater ; engaged the services of some additional Scots from the Western Isles, improved the discipline of his own troops, and on every side made preparations to renew the conflict with his powerful enemy. For he well knew that Eliza- beth was not the monarch to quit her deadly gripe of this fair island without a more terrible struggle than had yet been endured".* That struggle was soon inaugurated. England, at that time one of the strongest nations in Europe, and a match for the best among them by land and sea, ruled over by one of the ablest, the boldest, and most crafty sovereigns that had ever sat upon her throne, and served by states- men, soldiers, philosophers, and writers, whose names are famous in histOry — was now about to put forth all her power in a combined naval and military armament against the almost reconstituted, but as yet all too fragile Irish nation. Such an effort, under all the circumstances, could scarcely result otherwise than as it eventually did; for there are, after all, odds againt which no human effort can avail and for which no human valour can compensate. It was England's good fortune on this occasion, as on others previously and subsequently, that the Irish nation chal- lenged her when she was at peace with all the world — when her hands were free and her resources undivided. Equally fortunate was she at all times, on the other hand, in the complete tranquillity of the Irish when desperate emergencies put her on her own defence, and left her no resources to spare for a campaign in Ireland, had she been challenged then. What wq have to contemplate in the AlitcheL THE STORY OF IRELAND* 275 closing scenes of O'Neill's glorious career is the heroism of Thermopylae, not the success of Salamis or Platsea. Elizabeth's favourite, Essex, was despatched to Ireland with twenty thousand men at his back ; an army not only the largest England had put into the field for centuries, but in equipment, in drill, and in armament, the most complete ever assembled under her standard. Against this the Irish nowhere had ten thousand men concentrated in a regular army or moveable corps. In equipment and in armament they were sadly deficient, while of sieging ma- terial they were altogether destitute. Nevertheless, we are told O'Neill and his confederates were not dismayed by the arrival of this great army and its magnificent leader". And had the question between the two nations depended solely upon such issues as armies settle, and superior skill and prowess control, neither O'Neill nor his confederates would have erred in the strong faith, the high hope, the exultant self-reliance that nc/w animated them. The cam- paign of 1599 — the disastrous failure of the courtly Essex and his magnificent army — must be told in a few lines, O'Neill completely out-generaled and overawed or over- reached the haughty deputy. In more than one fatal en- gagement his splendid force was routed by the Irish, until, notwithstanding a constant stream of reinforcements from England, it had wasted away, and was no longer formidable in O'Neill's eyes. In vain the queen wrote letter after letter endeavouring to sting her quondam favourite into something notable"; that is, a victory over O'Neill. Nothing could induce Essex to face the famous hero of Clontibret and the Yellow Ford, unless, indeed, in peaceful parley. At length having been taunted into a movement northward, he proceeded thither reluctantly and slowly. " On the high ground north of the Lagan, he found the host of O'Neill encamped, and received a courteous message from their leader, soliciting a personal interview. At an appointed hour the two commanders rode down to the op- posite banks of the river, wholly unattended, the advanced guards of each looking curiously on from the uplands".* M'Gee. 276 THE STORY OF IRELAND. O'Neill, ever the flower of courtesy, spurred his horse into the stream up to the saddlegirths. First they had a private conference, in which Lord Essex, won by the chi- valrous bearing and kindly address of the chief, became, say the English historians, too confidential with an enemy of his sovereign, spoke without reserve of his daring hopes and most private thoughts of ambition, until O'Neill had sufficiently read his secret soul, fathomed his poor capacity, and understood the full meanness of his shallow treason. Then Cormac O'Neill and five other Irish leaders were summoned on the one side, on the other Lord Southampton and an equal number of English officers, and a solemn parley was opened in due form".* O'Neill offered terms : first, complete liberty of conscience; second, indemnity for his allies in all the four provinces ; third, the principal officers of state, the judges, and one-half the army to be henceforth Irish by birth". Essex considered these very far from extravagant demands from a man now virtually master in the island. He declared as much to O'Neill, and concluded a truce pending reply from London. Elizabeth saw in fury how completely O'Neill had dominated her favourite. She wrote him a frantic letter full of scornful taunt and upbraiding. Essex flung up all his duties in Ireland without leave, and hurried to London, to bring into requisition the personal influences he had undoubtedly possessed at one time with the queen. But he found her unapproachable. She stamped and swore at him, and ordered him to the tower, where the unfortunate earl paid, with his head upon the block, the forfeit for not having grappled successfully with the " Red Hand of Ulster". The year 1600 was employed by O'Neill in a general circuit of the kingdom, for the more complete establish- ment of the national league and the better organization o^ the national resources. He marched through the centra of the island at the head of his troops to the south", says his biographer, '*a kind of royal progress, which he thought fit to call a pilgrimage to Holy Cross. He held Mitohel. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 277 princely st?.te there, concerted measures with the southern lords, and distributed a manifesto announcing himself as the accredited Defender of the Faith"* " In the beginning of March", says another authority, "the Catholic army halted at Inniscarra, upon the river Lee, about five miles west of Cork. Here O'Neill remained three weeks in camp consolidating the Catholic party in South Munster. During that time he was visited by the chiefs of the ancient Eugenian clans — O'Donohoe, O'Donovan, and O'Mahony. Thither also came two of the most remarkable men of the southern province: Florence McCarthy, lord of Carberry, and Donald 0' Sullivan, lord of Bearhaven. McCarthy, *like Saul, higher by the head and shoulders than any of his house', had brain in proportion to his brawn; 0' Sullivan, as was afterwards shown, was possessed of military virtues of a high order. Florence was inaugu- rated with O'Neill's sanction as McCarthy More; and although the rival house of Muskerry fiercely resisted his claim to superiority at first, a wiser choice could not have been made had the times tended to confirm it. "While at Inniscarra, O'Neill lost in single combat one of his most accomplished officers, the chief of Fermanagh. Maguire, accompanied only by a priest and two horsemen, was making observations nearer to the city than the camp, when Sir Warham St. Leger, marshal of Munster, issued out of Cork with a company of soldiers, probably on a similar mission. Both were in advance of their attendants when they came unexpectedly face to face. Both were famous as horsemen and for the use of their weapons, and neither would retrace his steps. The Irish chief, poising his spear, dashed forward against his opponent, but re- ceived a pistol shot which proved mortal the same day. He, however, had strength enough left to drive his spear through the neck of St. Leger, and to effect his escape from the English cavalry. St. Leger was carried back to Cork where he expired. Maguire, on reaching the camp, had barely time left to make his last confession when he breathed his last. This untoward event, the necessity of preventing possible dissensions in Fermanagh, and still more the menacing movements of the nerw deputy, lately 278 •THE STORY OF IRELAND. sworn in at Dublin, obliged O'Neill to return borne earlier tban be intended. Soon after reacbing Dungannon be bad tbe gratification of receiving a most gracious letter from Pope Clement tbe Eigbth, togetber witb a crown of pboenix featbers, symbolical of tbe consideration with which he was regarded by the Sovereign Pontiff".* xliv. how the reconstructed irish nation was over- borne, how the two hughs " fought back to back" against their overwhelming foes, how the "SPANISH aid" ruined the IRISH CAUSE. THE DISAS- TROUS BATTLE OF KINSALE. HERE now appear before us two remark- able men whose names are prominently identi- fied with this memorable epoch in Irish history — Mountjoy, the new lord deputy; and Carew, the new lord president of Munster. In the hour in which these men were appointed to ^ the con- duct of affairs in Ireland, the Irish cause was lost. Immense resources were placed at their disposal, new levies and armaments were ordered; and again all the might of England by land and sea was to be put forth against Ireland. But Mountjoy and Carew alone were worth all the levies. They were men of indomitable energy, masters of subtlety, craft, and cunning, utterly un- scrupulous as to the employment of means to an end; cold-blooded, callous, cruel, and brutal. Norreys and Bagnal were soldiers— able generals, illustrious in the field. Essex was a lordly courtier, vain and pomp-loving. Of these men — soldier and courtier — the Irish annals speak as of fair foes. But of Mountjoy and Carew a different memory is kept in Ireland. They did their work by the wile of the serpent, not by tbe skill of tbe soldier. Where the brave ♦ M^Gee. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 279 and manly Norreys tried tlie sword, they tried snares, treachery, and deceit, gold, flattery, promises, temptation, and seduction in every shape. To split up the confedera- tion of chiefs was an end towards which they steadily .aboured by means the most subtle and crafty that "auman ingenuity could devise. Letters, for instance, were :brged purporting to have been written secretly to the "ord deputy by the Earl of Desmond, offering to betray one )f his fellow confederates, O'Connor. These forgeries were ^ disclosed", as it were, to O'Connor, with an offer that he ^should "forestal" the earl, by seizing and giving up the atter to the government, for which, moreover, he was to lave a thousand pounds in hand, besides other considera- :ions promised. The plot succeeded. O'Connor betrayed the 3arl and handed him over a prisoner to the lord deputy, and of course going over himself as an ally also. This rent worked the dismemberment of the league in the south. Worse defections followed soon after; defections unac- countable, and, indeed, irretrievable. Art O'Neill and Nial Garv O'Donnell, under the operation of mysterious influences, went over to the English, and in all the subse- quent events, were more active and effective than any other commanders on the queen's side ! Nial Garv alone was worth a host. He was one of the ablest generals in the Irish camp. His treason fell upon the national leaders like a thunderbolt. This was the sort of " campaigning" on which Mountjoy relied most. Time and money were freely de- voted to it, and not in vain. After the national confedera- tion had been sufficiently split up and weakened in this way — and when, north and south, the defecting chiefs were able of themselves to afford stiff employment for the national forces, the lord deputy took the field. In the struggle that now ensued O'Neill and O'Donnell presented one of those spectacles which, according to the language of the heathen classics, move gods and men to sympathy and admiration I Hearts less brave might des- pair; but they, like Leonidas and the immortal Three Hundred, would fight out the battle of country while life remained. The English now had in any one province a force superior to the entire strength of the national army. 280 THE STORY OF IRELAND. The eventful campaign of 1601, we are told, was fought out in almost every part of the kingdoii.. To hold the coast lines on the north — wheie Dowcra had landed (at Derry) four thousand foot and four hundred horse — was the task of O'Donnell ; while to defend the southern Ulster frontier was the peculiar charge of O'Neill. " They thus", says the historian, " fought as it were back to back against the opposite lines of attack". Through all the spring and summer months that fight went on. From hill to valley, from pass to plain, all over the island, it was one roll of cannon and musketry, one ceaseless and uni- versal engagement ; the smoke of battle never lifted ofl" the scene. The two Hughs were all but ubiquitous ; con- fronting and defeating an attack to-day at one point; falling npon the foes next day at another far distant from the scene of the last encounter! Between the two chiefs the most touching confidence and devoted affection sub- sisted. Let the roai of battle crash how it might on the northern horizon, O'Neill relied that all was well, for O'Donnell was at his post. No matter what myriads of foes were massing in the south, it was enough for O'Don- nell to know that O'Neill was there. Back to back", in- deed, as many a brave battle against desperate odds has been fought, they maintained the unequal combat, giving blow for blow, and so far holding their ground right nobly. By September, except in Munster, comparatively little had been gained by the English beyond the success- ful planting of some further garrisons ; but the Irish were considerably exhausted, and sorely needed rest and re- cruitment. At this juncture came the exciting news that — at length! — a powerful auxiliary force from Spain had landed at Kinsale. The Anglo-Irish privy council were startled by the news while assembled in deliberation at Kilkenny. Instantly they ordered a concentration of all their available forces in the south, and resolved upon a winter campaign. They acted with a vigour and deter- mination which plainly showed theii conviction that on the quick crushing of the Spanish force hung the fate of their cause in Ireland. A powerful fleet was sent round the coast, and soon blockaded Kinsale; while on the land THE STORY OP IRELAND. 281 side it was invested by a force of some fifteen thousand men. This Spanish expeditio"n , meant to aid, effected the ruin of the Irish cause. It consisted of little more than three thousand men, with a good supply of stores, arms, and ammunition. In all his letters to Spain, O'Neill is said to have strongly urged that if a force under five thousand men came, it should land in Ulster, where it would be morally and materially worth ten thousand landed else- where; but that if Munster was to be the point of de- barkation, anything less than eight or ten thousand men would be useless. The meaning of this is easily discerned. The south was the strong ground of the English, as the north was of the Irish side. A force landed in Munster should be able of itself to cope with the strong opposition which it was sure to encounter. These facts were not altogether lost sight of in Spain. The expedition as fitted out consisted of six thousand men ; but various mishaps and disappointments reduced it to half the number by the time it landed at Kinsale. Worse than all, the wrong man commanded it; Don Juan D'Aquilla, a good soldier, but utterly unsuited for an enterprise like this. He was proud, sour-tempered, hasty, and irascible. He had heard nothing of the defections and disasters in the south. The seizure of Desmond and the ensnaring of Florence McCarthy— the latter the most influential and powerful of the southern nobles and chiefs — had paralysed everything there; and Don Juan, instead of finding himself in the midst of friends in arms, found himself surrounded by foes on land and sea. He gave way to his natural ill-temper in reproaches and complaints; and in letters to O'Neill, bitterly de- manded whether he and the other confederates meant to hasten to his relief. For O'Neill and O'Donnell, with their exhausted and weakened troops to abandon the north and undertake a winter march southward, was plain destruc- tion. ^Lt least it staked everything on the single issue of success or defeat before Kinsale ; and to prevent defeat and to insure success there, much greater organization for cooperation and concert, and much more careful prepara- tion, were needed than was possible now, hurried south- 282 THE STORY OF IRELANb. ward in this way by D'Aqnill<^. Nevertheless, there was nothing else for it. O'Neill clearly discerned that the crafty and politic Carew had been insidiously working on the Spanish commander, to disgust him with the enter- prise, and induce him to sail homeward on liberal terms. And it was so. Don Juan, it is said, agreed, or intimated that if, within a given time, an Irish army did not appear to his relief, he would treat with Carew for terms. If it was, therefore, probable disaster for O'Neill to proceed to the south, it was certain ruin for him to refuse ; so with heavy hearts the northern chieftains set out on their winter march for Munster, at the head of their thinned and wasted troops. '^O'Donnell, with his habitual ardour, was first on the way. He was joined by Felim O'Doherty, MacSwiney-na-Tuath, 0' Boyle, O'Eorke, the brother of O'Connor Sligo,the O'Connor Koe,Mac Dermott, O'Kelly, and others ; mustering in all about two thousand five hun- dred men". O'Neill, with MacDonnell of Antrim, Mac Gennis of Down, MacMahon of Monaghan, and others of his suffragans, marched southward at the head of between three and four thousand men. Holy Cross was the point where both their forces appointed to effect their junction. O'Donnell was first at the rendezvous. A desperate ef- fort on the part of Carew to intercept and overwhelm him before O'Neill could come up, was defeated only by a sudden night-march of nearly forty miles by Eed Hugh. O'Neill reached Belgooley, within sight of Kinsale, on the 21st December. In Munster, in the face of all odds — amidst the wrecK of the national confederacy, and in the presence of an over- whelming army of occupation — a few chiefs there were, undismayed and unfaltering, who rallied faithfully at the call of duty. Foremost amongst these was Donal 0' Sul- livan, Lord of Beare, a man in whose fidelity, intrepidity, and military ability, O'Neill appears to have reposed un- bounded confidence. In all the south, the historian tells us, ''only O'Sullivan Beare, O'Driscoll, and O'Connor Kerry declared openly for the national cause" in this momentous crisis. Some of the missing ships of the Spanish expedition reached Castlehaven in November, just ^tHE STORY OP IRELAND. 283 as O'Donnell, who had made a detour westward, reached that place. Some of this Spanish contingent were detailed as garrisons for the forts of Dunboy, Baltimore, and Castlehaven, commanding three of the best havens in Munster. The rest joined O'Donnell's division, and which soon sat down before Kinsale. When O'Neill came up, his master-mind at once scanned the whole position, and quickly discerned the true policy to be pursued. The English force was utterly failing in commissariat arrangements ; and disease as well as hunger was committing rapid havoc in the besiegers' camp. O'Neill accordingly resolved to besiege the besiegers; to increase their difficulties in obtaining provision or provender, and to cut up their lines of communication. These tactics mani- festly offered every advantage to the Irish and allied forces, and were certain to work the destruction of Carew's army. But the testy Don Juan could not brook this slow and cautious mode of procedure. The Spaniards only felt their own inconveniences ; they were cut off from escape by sea by a powerful English fleet; and", continues the historian, " Carew was already practising indirectly on their commander his ' wit and cunning' in the fabrication of rumours and the forging of letters. Don Juan WTote urgent appeals to the northern chiefs to attack the English lines without another day's delay ; and a council of war in the Irish camp, on the third day after their arrival at Bel- gooley, decided that the attack should be made on the morrow". At this council, so strongly and vehemently was O'Neill opposed to the mad and foolish policy of risking an engagement, which, nevertheless, O'Donnell, ever impetuous, as violently supported, that for the first time the two friends were angrily at issue, and some writers even allege that on this occasion question was raised between them as to who should assume command- in-chief on the morrow. However this may have been, it is certain that once the vote of the council was taken, and the decision found to be against him, O'Neill loyally acquiesced in it, and prepared to do his duty. On the night of the 2nd January (new style) — 24th December old style, in use among the English — the Irish 284 THE STOBY OP IRELAND, army left their camp in three divisions ; the vanguard led by Tyrrell, the centre by O'Neill, and the rear by O'Don- nell. The night was stormy and dark, with continuous peals and flashes of thunder and lightning. The guides lost their way, and the march, which even by the most circuitous route ought not to have exceeded four or five miles, was protracted through the whole night. At dawn of day, O'Neill, with whom were 0' Sullivan and O'Campo, came in sight of the English lines, and to his infinite sur- prise found the men under arms, the cavalry in troops posted in advance of their quarters. O'Donnell's division was still to come up, and the veteran earl now found him- self in the same dilemma into which Bagnal had fallen at the Yellow Ford. His embarrassment was perceived from the English camp; the cavalry were at once ordered to advance. For an hour O'Neill maintained his ground alone ; at the end of that time he was forced to retire. Of O'Campo's 300 Spaniards, 40 survivors were with their gallant leader taken prisoners; O'Donnell at length ar- rived and drove back a wing of the English cavalry ; Tyrrell's horsemen also held their ground tenaciously. But the route of the centre proved irremediable. Fully 1,200 of the Irish were left dead on the field, and every prisoner taken was instantly executed. On the English side fell Sir Richard Graeme ; Captains Danvers and Godolphin, with several others, were wounded; their total loss they stated at two hundred, and the Anglo-Irish, of whom they seldom made count in their reports, must have lost in proportion. The earls of Thomond and Clanri- carde were actively engaged with their followers, and their loss could hardly have been less than that of the English regulars. On the night following their defeat, the Irish leaders held council together at Innishannon, on the river Ban- don, where it was agreed that O'Donnell should instantly take shipping for Spain to lay the true state of the contest before Philip the Third; that 0' Sullivan should endeavour to hold his castle of Dunboy, as commanding a most im- portant harbour; that Rory O'Donnell, second brother of Hugh Roe, should act as chieftain of Tyrconnell, and that THE STORY OP IRELAND. 285 O'Neill should return into Ulster to make tliebest defence in his power. The loss in men was not irreparable ; the loss in arms, colours, and reputation, was more painful to bear, and far more difficult to retrieve".* XLV. THE LAST LORD OF BEARA". HOW DONAL OF DUN- BOY WAS ASSIGNED A PERILOUS PROMINENCE, AND NOBLY UNDERTOOK ITS DUTIES. HOW DON JUAN's IMBECILITY OR TREASON RUINED TH^ IRISH CAUSE. ^ONFESSEDLY tor none of the defeated chiefs did the day's disaster at Kinsale involve such consequences as it presaged for the three southern leaders — 0' Sullivan, O'Driscoll, and O'Connor Kerry. The northern chieftains returning home- ward, retired upon and within the strong lines of what we may call the vast entrenched camp of the native cause. But the three southerns — who alone of all their Munster compeers had dared to take the field against the English side in the recent crisis — were left isolated in a distant extremity of the island, the most remote from native support or cooperation, left at the mercy of Carew, now master of Munster, and leader of a powerful army flushed with victory. The northerns might have some chance, standing together and with a consider- able district almost entirely in their hands, of holding out, or exacting good terms as they had done often before. But for the doomed southern chiefs, if aid from Spain came not soon, there was literally no prospect but the swift and im mediate crash of Carew's vengeance; no hope save what the strong ramparts of Dunboy and the stout heart of its chieftain might encourage! O'Neill, as Ihavo already remarked, had a high opinion of 0' Sullivan — of his devotedness to the national cause — ♦ M^Gee. 28G THE STORY OF IRELAND. of his prudence, skill, foresight, and courage. And truly the character of the "last lord of Beara" as writ upon the page of history — as depicted by contemporary writers, as revealed to us in his correspondence, and as displayed in his career and actions from the hour when, at the call of duty, with nothing to gain and all to peril, he committed himself to the national struggle— is one to command res- pect, sympathy, and admiration. In extent of territorial sway and in " following" he was exceeded by many of the southern chiefs, but his personal character seems to have secured for him by common assent the position amongst them left vacant by the imprisonment of Florence Mac Carthy, facile princeps among the Irish of Munster, now fast held in London tower. In manner, temperament, and disposition, 0' Sullivan was singularly unlike most of the impulsive ardent Irish of his time. He was a man of deep, quiet, calm demeanour ; grave and thoughtful in his manner, yet notably firm and inflexible in all that touched his per- sonal honour, his duty towards his people,* or his loyalty to religion or country. His family had flung themselves into the struggle of James Geraldine, and suffered the penalties that followed thereupon. Early in Elizabeth's reign, Eoghan, or Eugene, styled by the English Sir Owen O'Sullivan, contrived to possess himself of the chief- taincy and territory of Beara, on the death of his brother Donal, father of the hero of Dunboy. Eugene accepted an English title, sat in Lord Deputy Perrot's parliament of 1585, in the records of which we find his name duly regis- tered, and took out a " patent" in his own name for the tribe land. His nephew, young Donal — Donal Mac Donal * Nothing strikes the reader of Donal's correspondence with king Philip and the Spanish ministers, more forcibly than the constant solicitude, the deep feeling and affectionate attachment he exhibits towards his "poor people", as he always calls them. Amidst the wreck of all his hopes, the loss of worldly wealth and possessions, home, country, friends, his chief concern is for his " poor people" abandoned to the persecution of the merciless English foe. In all his letters it is the same. No murmur, no repining for himself, but constant solicitude about Ireland, and constant sorrow for his poor people, left " like sheep without a shepherd when the storm shuts out the skjr". THE STORY OF IRfil^VND. 287 0' Sullivan, as he was called — vehemently disputed the validity of Sir Owen's title to the lands, and after a lengthy law-suit, a letter of partition was issued under the great seal in January, 1593, according to which Donal was to have the lordship, castles, and dependencies of Beara, while Sir Owen was to possess those eastward and north- ward of the peninsula. It is highly probable that by this decision the Pale authorities hoped to enthral Donal with- out losing Sir Owen, to make both branches of the family, as it were, compete in loyalty to the English power, and in any event, by putting enmity between them, cause them to split up and weaken their own influence. In this latter calculation they were not disappointed, as the sequel shows ; but their speculations or expectations about Donal were all astray. He was indeed averse to hopeless and prospectless struggles against the power of England, and on attaining to the chieftaincy, directed his attention mainly to the internal regulation of his territory, and the bettering of the condition of his people in every respect, not by forays on neighbouring clans, but by the peaceful influences of industry. But Donal, grave and placid of exterior, truly patriotic of heart, watched attentively the rise and progress of O'Neill's great movement in the north. For a time he believed it to be merely a quarrel between the queen's protege and his royal patroness, sure to be eventually adjusted ; and accordingly up to a recent period he displayed no sympathy with either side in the conflict. But when that conflict developed itself into a really na- tional struggle, 0' Sullivan never wavered for a moment in deciding what his attitude should be ; and that attitude, once taken, was never abandoned, never varied, never com- promised by act or word or wish, through all that followed of sacrifice and suffering and loss. O'Neill, who was a keen discerner of character, read 0' Sullivan correctly when he estimated all the more highly his accession, be- cause it was that of a man who acted not from hot impulse or selfish calculation, but from full deliberation and a pure sense of duty. In fine, it was not lightly the Irish council at Innishannon selected the lord of Dunboy for such honour- able but perilous prorainence as to name him one of the 288 THE STORY OF IRELAND. three men to whom was committed, in the darkest crisis of their country, the future conduct of the national cause.* We may imagine the memorable scene of the morn suc- ceeding that night of sleepless consultation at Innishannon over hapless Erinn's fate" — the parting of the chiefs! Wildly they embraced each other, and like clutch of iron was the farewell grasp of hand in hand, as each one turned away on the path of his allotted task! O'Neill marched northward, where we shall trace his movements subse- quently. O'Donnell took shipping for Spain, and 0' Sulli- van at the head of his faithful clansmen marched westward for Bantry and Bearhaven. Had Don Juan D'Aquilla been a true and steadfast man — had he been at all worthy and fit to command or conduct such an enterprise — had he been at all capable of appreciating its peculiar exigencies and duties — the defeat at Kinsale, heavy and full of dis- aster as it was, might soon have been retrieved, and the whole aspect of affairs reversed. Had he but held his ground (as not unreasonably he might have been expected to do, with three thousand men within a fortified and well- stored town) until the arrival of the further reinforce- ments which he must have known his royal master was sending, or would quickly send, and thus cooperated in the scheme of operations planned by the Irish chiefs at Innishannon, nothing that had so far happened could be counted of such great moment as to warrant abandonment of the expedition. But D' Aquilla's conduct was miserably inexplicable. He could not act more despairingly if his last cartridge had been fired, if his last gunner had jDcrished, if his "last horse had been eaten", or if assured that king Philip had utterly abandoned him. After a few sorties, easily repulsed, he offered to capitulate. Carew, who hereby saw that Don Juan was a fool, was, of course, only * These high Irishmen, namely, O'Neill and O'DonneU, or- dered that the chief command and leadership of these (the Mun- ster forces) should be given to O'SuUivan Beare, i.e., Donal, the son of Donal the son of Dermot ; for he was at this time the best commander among their allies in Munster for wisdom and valour" — AujwlIs of the Four blasters. THE STORY OP IRELAND. 289 too happy to grant him any terms that would ensure the departure of the Spanish aids. ' By conceding conditions highly flattering to D'Aquilla^s personal vanity, the lord president induced that outwitted commander not only to draw off to Spain the entire of the expedition, but to un- dertake to yield up to the English all the castles and for- tresses of the Irish chiefs in which Spanish garrisons had been placed, and to order back to Spain any further troops that might arrive before his departure. This imbecility or treason ruined the Irish cause in the south, and ruining it there at such a juncture, ruined it everywhere. Such a capitulation was utter and swift destruction to the southern leaders. It " took the ground from under their feet". It reft them of bases of operations, and flung them as mere fugitives unsheltered and unprovisioned into the open field, the forest, the morass, or the mountain, to be hunted and harried, cut off in detail, and pitilessly put to the sword by Carew's numerous, powerful, and well-appionted field corpg or scouring parties. Don Juan's capitulation was signed 11th January, 1602 (N.S.). Seven days afterwards the lord deputy and the lord president drew off to Cork. The day following the cap- tains received directions to repair to sundry towns in Mun- ster appointed for their garrisons; and the same day Captain Koger Harvie and Captain George Flower were despatched with certain companies to go by sea to receive the castles of Castlehaven, Donnashed, and Donnelong at Baltimore, and Dunboy at Bearhaven". On the 12th February, the Spanish officer in command at Castlehaven gave up the castle to Harvie On the 21st he proceeded to Baltimore, the two castles of which the Spanish officers therein gave up in like manner; and in a few weeks all the coast district castles of the south-west, those of the Beara promontory alone excepted, were in the hands of the English. A month later (16th March) Don Juan sailed for Spain, most of his forces having been shipped thither previously.* * "On his return to Spain he was degraded from his rank for his too great intimacy with Carew, and confined a pris' aer in his own house. He is said to have died of a broken heart occasioned by thes« indignities''. — M'Gee. If) THE STORY OF IRELAND. 0' Sullivan heard with dismay and indignation of Don Juan's audacious undertaking to deliver up to his "cruel, cursed, misbelieving enemies", his castle of Dunboy, the key of his inheritance.* With speed, increased by this evil news, he pushed rapidly homeward, and in due time he appeared with the remnant of his little forcef before the walls of the castle, demanding admittance. The Spaniards refused; they had heard of D'Aquilla's terms of capitulation, they regretted them, but felt constrained to abide by them. Donal, however, knowing a portion of the outworks of the place which afforded some facilities for his purpose, availed himself of a dark and stormy night to effect an entrance, mining his way through the outer wall, and surprising and overpowering the Spaniards. He then addressed them feelingly on the conduct of D'Aquilla and the present posture of affairs, stating his resolution to hold the castle till King Philip would send fresh aid, and offering a choice to the Spaniards to remain with him or sail for home. Some of them decided to re- main, and were amongst the most determined defenders of Dunboy in the subsequent siege. The rest, Donal sent to Spain, despatching at the same time envoys with letters to King Philip, urgently entreating speedy aid. More- over, in charge of these messengers, he sent to the king, as guarantee of his good faith and perseverance, his oldest son, a boy of tender years. Well knowing that soon he would have the foe upon him, Donal now set about preparing Dunboy for the * Among other places which were neither yielded nor taken toe tke end that they should be delivered to the English, Don Juan tied himself to dehver my castell and haven, the only key of mine inheritance, whereupon the living of many thousand persons doth rest that live some twenty leagues upon the sea coast, into the hands of my cruell, cursed, misbelieving enemies". — Letterof Donal O'SuUivan Beare to the King of Spain. — Pacata Hibernia. t O'Sullivan's contingent, we are told, **was amongst those who made the most determined fight on the disastrous day of Kinsale, and when the battle was lost, it bravely protected some of the retreating troops of the northern chieftains, who but for such protection would have suffered more severely than they did". THE STORY OF IRELANI>. 291 tough and terrible trial before it. He had the outworks strengthened in every part ; and another castle of his, on Dursey Island (at the uttermost extremity of the penin- sula, dividing Bantry and Kenmarebays), garrisoned by a trusty band ; designing this latter as a refuge for himself, his family, and clansmen, in the event of the worst befall- ing Dunboy. XLVI. — HOW THE QUEEn's FORCES SET ABOUT "TRANQUIL- LIZING" MUNSTER. HOW CAREW SENT EARL THOMOND ON A MISSION INTO CARBERY, BEAR, AND BANTRY. EANWHILE the detachments detailed by Carew were doing their savage and merciless work throughout Cork and Kerry. According to Carew's own version, the occupation of these troops, day by day, was the seeking out and murdering in cold blood of all the native inhabitants, men, women, and children ; and when they were not murdering they were cow-stealing and corn-burning. How to extirpate the hap- less people — how to blast and desolate the land, rather than it should afford sustenance to even a solitary fugitive of the doomed race — was the constant effort of the English commanders. Carew was not the first of his name to sig- nalise himself in such work. It was the process by which Munster had been "pacified" — i.e., desolated — barely thirty years before. It was that by which Cromwell, forty years subsequently, pursued the same end. It was a sys- tem, the infamy of which, amongst the nations of the world, pagan or Christian, is wholly monopolized by Eng- land. The impartial reader, be his nationality English oi Irish, perusing the authentic documents stored in the State Paper Ofiice, is forced to admit that it was not war in even its severest sense, but murder in its most hideous and heartless atrocity, that was waged upon the Irish people in the process of subjugating^ them. It was not that pro- I 292 THE STORY OF IRELAND. cess of conquest the wounds of which, though sharp and •severe for the moment, soon cicatrise with time. Such conquests other countries have passed through, and time has either fused the conqueror and the conquered, or obli- terated all bitterness or hate between them. Had Ireland, too, been conquered thus, like happy . results might be looked for; but as the process was wofully different, so has the product been; so must it ever be, till the laws of nature are reversed and revolutionised, and grapes grow on thorns and figs on thistles. It was not war — which might be forgotten on both sides — but murder which to this day is remembered on one side with a terrible memory. A thoroughly English historian — Froude — writing in our day on these events, has found the testimony of the State Paper Office too powerful to resist ; and with all his natural and legitimate bias or sympathy in favour of his own country, his candour as a historian more than once constitutes him an accuser of the infamies to which I have been referring. "The English nation", he says, "was shuddering over the atrocities of the Duke of Alva. The children in the nurseries were being inflamed to patriotic rage and madness by the tales of Spanish tyranny. Yet Alva^shloodjswovdneYertouchedthe young, the defenceless J or those whose sex even dogs can recognize and respecV\* Sir Peter Carew has been seen murdering women and children, andbabies that had scarcely left the breast; but Sir Peter Carew was not called On to answer for his conduct, and remained in favour with the deputy. Gilbert, who was left in command at Kilmallock. was illustrating yet more signally the same tendency".f "Nor was Gilbert a bad man. As times went he passed for a brave and chivalrous gentleman ; not the least dis- tinguished in that high band of adventurers who carried the English flag into the western hemisphere, a founder of colonies, an explorer of unknown seas, a man of science, and, above all, a man of special piety. He regarded him- * Froude*s History of England, vol. x. page 508, t Ibid«, YoL X. page 509. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 293 self as dealing rather with savage beasts than with human beings, and when he tracked them to iheir dens, he strangled the cubs and rooted out the entire broods^\* " The Gilbert method of treatment", says Mr. Froude again, has this disadvantage, that it must be carried out to the last extremity, or it ought not to be tried at all. The dead do not come back ; and if the mothers and the babies are slaughtered with the men, the race gives no further trouble ; but the work must be done thoroughly ; partial and fitful cruelty lays up only a long debt of deserved and ever-deepening hate". The work on this occasion happening not to be **done thoroughly", Mr. Froude immediately proceeds to ex- plain:— *'In justice to the English soldiers, however, it must be said that it was no fault of theirs if any Irish child of that generation was allowed to live to manhood".! The same historian frankly warns his readers against supposing that such work was exceptional on the part of the English forces. From the language of the ofiScial documents before him, he says "the inference is but too natural, that work of this kind was the road to preferment, and that this, or something like it, was the ordinary em- ployment of the * Saxon' garrisons in Ireland"4 Such, then, was the work in which Carew the Second and his garrisons occupied themselves on the fall of Kin- sale. Sir Charles Wilmot at the head of fifteen hundred men was despatched to desolate Kerry; and on the 9th March, Carew formally issued a commission to the Earl of Thomond " to assemble his forces together, consisting of two thousand and five hundred foot in list, and fifty horse", for the purpose of wasting Carbery, Bear, arid Ban- try, and making a reconnaissance of Dunboy.§ Thomond * Froude'a History of England^ vol. x. page 508. t Ibid., page 507. X Ibid., page 512. § * * The service you are to perf orme is to doe all your endeavour to burne the rebels' Come in Carbery, Bear, and Bantry, take their Cowes, and to use all hostile prosecution upon the persons of th© 294 THE STORY OF IRELAND. accordingly marched as far as the abbey of Bantrie, and there had notice that Donnell 0' Sullivan Beare and his people, by the advice of two Spaniards, an Italian, and a fryer called Dominicke Collins, did still continue their workes about the castle of Dunboy". "Hereupon the earl left seven hundred men in list in the Whiddy (an island lying within the Bay of Bantrie) very convenient for the service, and himself with the rest of his forces re- turned to Corke, where having made relation of the parti- culars of his journey, it was found necessary that the president, without any protractions or delay, should draw all the forces in the province to a head against them".* XLVII. — HOW THE LORD PRESIDENT GATHERED AN ARMY OF FOUR THOUSAND MEN TO CRUSH DOOMED DUNBOY, TEE LAST HOPE OF THE NATIONAL CAUSE IN MU1^8TER. >sia AREW set out from Cork on the 20th April, it v^^^^r^^^ the head of his army ; on the 30th they reached Dunamark, about a mile north of the town of Bantry, having on the way halted, on the 23rd at Owneboy, near Kinsale ; 24th, at Timoleague; 25th, at Roscarbery; 26th, at Glenharahan, near Castlehaven; 27th, at Bal- timore, where they spent two days, Carew visiting Innisherkin; 29th, "on the mountain, at a place called Recareneltaghe, neare unto Kilcoa, being a castel wherein the rebell Conoghor, eldest sonne to Sir Finnin O'Drischoll, knight, held a ward''. people, as in such cases of rebellion is accustomed. , , When you are in Beare (if you may without any apparent perill), your lordship shall doe well to take a view of the Castle of Dunboy, whereby wee may be the better instructed how to proceed for the taking of it when time convenient shall be afforded". — Instruc- tions given to the Earl of Thomond- 9th March. Pacata Hihemia, * Pacata Hihemia. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 295 Carew spent a month in encampment at Dunamark, by the end of which time the fleet arrived at the same place, or in the bay close by, having come round the coast from *!)ork. Meantime his message for a war-muster against 0' Sullivan had spread throughout Munster. On the ether hand, such effort as was possible in their hapless flight, was made by the few patriot leaders in the pro- duce; all perceiving that upon Dunboy now hung the jjtte of the Irish cause, and seeing clearly enough that if they could not keep off from 0' Sullivan the tremendous 'orce ordered against him, it must inevitably overwhelm lim. Accordingly, spreading themselves eastward around he base of the Beara promontory, and placing them- ielves on all the lines leading thereto, they desperately dsputed the ground with the concentrating English con- ingents, beating them back or obstructing them as best hey could. Above all, the endeavour was to keep Wilmot's ^erry contingent from coming up. Tyrrell was specially harged to watch Wilmot — to hold him in check at Killar- ley, and at all hazard and any cost to prevent his junction fith Carew at Bantry. Tyrrell posted his force so advan- ageously in the passes leading southward from Killarney, mdheld them so firmly, that forweeksWilmot's most vehe- nent efforts to force or flank them were vain. At length, by a feat which merits for him, as a military achievement, everlasting praise — a night march over Mangerton moun- tain — Wilmot evaded Tyrrell; pushed on through a moun- tain district scarcely passable at this day for horsemen, until he reached Inchigeela; thence he marched through Ceam-an-eigh Pass (unaccountably left unguarded), and so onward till he reached Bantry. By this junction Carew's force was raised to nearly four thousand men. While wait- ing for Wilmot, the daily occupation of the army, accord- ing to the lord president's account, was sheep-stealing and cow-stealing.* At Dunamark Carew was joined by the * **The first of May, Captaine Taffe's troop of Horse with cer- tain light foote were sent from the Campe, who returned with th-ee hundred CoiveSy many Sheepe, and a great number of Garrana they got from the Rebels. "The second Captaine John Barry brought into the Campe five 296 THE STORY OF IRELAND. sons of Sir Owen Sullivan, uncle of Donal of Dunboy: and to the information and cooperation given his enemies by these perfidious cousins, Donal most largely owed the fate that subsequently befel him. On the 14th of May a council of war was held in th( English camp to determine their course to Bearhaven whereat it was decided to march by the southern shore oi the bay, called Muinter-varia, to a point nearly opposite Bear Island ; from this point, by means of the fleet, t( transport the whole army across the bay to Bear Island and thence across to the mainland close by Dunboy ; this course being rendered necessary by the fact that DonaVs forces defended the passes of Glengarriffe, through whict alone Bearhaven could be reached by land from Bantry On the 31st of May, accordingly, Carew marched fron Dunamark to Kilnamenghe on the sea side, in Mounter varry". The two next following days were occupied ii transporting the army to Bear Island, upon which, even tually, the whole force was landed. A short march acrosi the island brought them to its northern shore, in full viev of Dunboy, barely a mile distant across the narrow en trance to Bearhaven harbour. hundred Cowes, three hundred Sheepe, three hundred Garrans, anc had the killing of five Rebels; and the same day we procured skir- mish in the edge of the Fastnesse with the rebels, but no hurt of our part. *' The third, Owen Osulevan and his brothers, sonnes to Sir Owen Osulevan (who stands firme, and deserved well of her Majestie, being Competitours with Osulevan Beare) brought some fiftie Cotoes and some sheepe from the enemy mto the Campe. "The Rebells receiving also notice, that the President was marched so neere to the Countrey of Beare, withdrew themselves out of Desmond (as before) into Glangarve, whereby opportunitie was offered to the Govemour of performing some good service. For Donnell Osulevan More, a malicious Rebell, remained with great store of cattell and certain Kerne in Iveragh; which being made knowen to Sir Charles, upon the fifth of May, hee secretly dis- patched a partie of men, which burnt and spay led all the Countrey y and returned xoith foure thousand Coices, besides Sheepe and Gar- rans^\ A Sergeant of the Earle of Thomond's with a partie of his Com- pany, drew to Down-Man us, whence hee brought a prey of three- score and sixe Cowes, with a great mapy of GarrariS^\ — Facata pyemia. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 297 iLYIII. THE LAST DAYS OF DUNBOY : A TALE OF HEROISM\ the castle 0' Sullivan had, according to the English accounts, exactly one hundred and forty-three men; there being be- sides these not more than five or six hundred of his clans- men available at the moment for fighting purposes. But his was not a soul to be shaken by fears into abandonment of a cause which, failing or gaining, was sacred and holy in his eyes — the cause of religion and country. So Donal, who knew that a word of submission would purchase for him not only safety but reward, undisturbed possession of his ancestral rights, and English titles to wear if he 298 THE STORY OF IRELAND. would, quailed not in this nor in still darker hours. He had nailed his colours to the mast", and looked Fate calmly in the face. It seems to have been a maxim with the lord president never to risk open fight until he had first tried to efi'ect his purpose by secret treason. While staying al Bantry he had addressed a letter to the Spanish gunners in Dunboy, offering them all manner of inducements to betray 0' Sul- livan, to desert the castle, first taking care, as he says, to cloy the ordnance or mayme their carriages, that when they shall have need of them they may prove useless ; for the which I will forthwith liberally recompense you answerable to the qualities of your merit". The infamous proposition was scouted by the men to whom it was addressed. Carew, unabashed, now resolved to try whether he could not corrupt the Constable of Dunboy, 0' Sullivan's most trusted friend, —a man whose memory is to this day held in worship by the people of Beara — Richard Mac Geoghegan, the impersona- tion of chivalrous fidelity, the very soul of truth, honour, and bravery ! Thomond was commissioned to invite the Constable of Dunboy to a parley. Mac Geoghegan acceded to the invitation, came across to Bear Island (5th June), and met the earl, in presence of, but apart from, their res- pective guards, on the shore. Of that memorable inter- view Carew has left us a brief but characteristic descrip- tion. "All the eloquence and artifice which the Earle could use avayled nothing : for Mac Geoghegan was re- solved to persevere in his wayes ; and, in the great love which he pretended to beare unto the Earle (Thomond), he advised him not to hazard his life in landing upon the Mayne The Earle disdayning both his obstinacie and his vaine-glorious advice, broke off his speech, telling Mac Geoghegan that ere many days passed hee would re- pent that hee had not followed his (the Earl's) counsel".* Carew had at first designed to cross over and land on the main at what seemed to be the only feasible point, a smooth strand at a spot now called Caematrangan. Within a few perches of this spot reaches one end of a small island * Pacata Hibemia, THE STORY OP IRELAND. 299 ("Deenish") which stretches almost completely across the mouth of the inner harbour of (modern) Castletown Beare. Carew landed a portion of his army on this small island; but O'Sullivan had erected a battery faced with gabions at Caematrangan, and had, moreover, his small force drawn up at hand to meet the invaders at the shore. Whereupon Carew, while making a feint as if about to attempt the passage there, directed the remainder of his force quickly to pass to the other (or eastern) extremity of Deenish, and effect a landing on the main at that point. This they were able to accomplish unopposed, for the dis- tance thereto, from O' Sullivan's strand battery, owing to the sweep of the shore and a narrow arm of the sea inter- vening, was two or three miles, whereas directly across, by water or on Deenish Island, was a reach of less than half a mile. Nevertheless, 0' Sullivan, discerning, though all too late, the skilful use made by Carew of the natural advan- tages of the ground, hastened with all speed to confront the invaders, and, unawed by the disparity of numbers against him — thousands against hundreds — boldly gave them battle. Carew himself seems to have been quite struck with the daring courage or audacity'' of this pro- ceeding. After marvelling at such foolhardiness, as he thought it, he owns "they came on bravely", and main- tained a very determined attack. It was only when addi- tional regiments were hurried up, and utterly overwhelmed them by numbers, that Donal's little force had to abandon the unequal strife, leaving their dead and wounded upon the field. That night, however, there reached Dunboy news well calculated to compensate for the gloom of perils so great and so near at hand. A Spanish ship had arrived at 0' Sullivan's castle of Ardea (in Kenmare bay, on the northern shore of the Beara promontory) bringing to Donal letters and envoys from King Philip, and aid for the Mun- ster chiefs in money, arms, and ammunition, committed to his care for distribution. Moreover, there came by this ship the cheering intelligence that an expedition of some fifteen thousand men was being organized in Spain for Ireland when the vessel sailed ! Here was glorious hope 300 THE 810RY OF IRELAND. indeed ! It was instantly decided that the chief himself should proceed with all promptitude to meet the envoys landed at Ardea,* and look to the important duties re- quired of him by their messages ; meanwhile entrusting the defence of Dunboy to Mac Geoghegan and a chosen garrison. Next morning Donal, with all his available force, exclusive of a garrison of one hundred and forty- three picked men left in the castle, set out for Ardea. The farewell cheers that rang out from the ramparts behind him, gave token of brave resolve to do or die, and doubt- less helped to lighten the chieftain's heart with whispers of hope. But alas ! Donal had taken his last farewell of Dunboy. When next he gazed upon the once proud home of his fathers, it was a smoking and blood-clotted ruin ! — The halls where mirth and minstrelsy Than Beara's wind rose louder, Were flung in masses lonehly, And black with EngUsh powder! For eleven days Mac Geoghegan fought Dunboy against Carew and his surrounding army of four thousand mer^l Eleven days, during which the thick white cloud of smoke never once lifted from battery and trench, and the deafening boom of cannon never once ceased to roll across the bay. By the 17th of June the castle had been knocked into a ruin- ous condition by an incessant bombardment from the well- appointed English batteries. The lord president devotes several pages of his journal to minute and copious descrip- tions of each day's labour in a siege which he declares to be unparalleled for obstinacy of defence ; and his narrative * These were the Most Rev. Dr. McEgan, Bishop of Ross, and Father Nealon. They brought, says Carew, * * letters to sundry rebels, and twelve thousand pounds. The disposition of the money by appointment in Spaine was left principally to Donnall O'Sule- van Beare, Owen McEggan, James Archer, and some others". This same Bishop McEgan was subsequently killed near Bandon fighting gallantly, with his sword in one hand and his beads in the other. His remains were buried in the Abbey of Timoleague.— (See the Pacata Hihernia; also Dunboy, by T. D. Sullivan. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 301 of the closing scenes of the struggle is told with painful particularity. Mr. Haverty condenses the tragic story very effectively as follows: — ^^The garrison consisted of only one hundred and forty-three chosen fighting men, who had but a few small cannon, while the comparatively large army which assailed them were well supplied with artillery and all the means of attack. At length, on the 17th of June, when the castle had been nearly shattered to pieces, the garrison offered to surrender if allowed to depart with their arms ; but their messenger was immediately hanged and the order for the assault was given. Although the proportion of the assailants in point of numbers was over- whelming, the storming party were resisted with the most desperate bravery. From turret to turret, and in every part of the crumbling ruins, the struggle was successively maintained throughout the live-long day; thirty of the gallant defenders attempted to escape by swimming, but soldiers had been posted in boats, who killed them in the water ; and at length the surviving portion of the garrison retreated into a cellar, into which the only access was by a narrow, winding flight of stone steps. Their leader, MacGeoghegan, being mortally wounded, the command was given to Thomas Taylor, the son of an Englishman, and the intimate friend of Captain Tyrrell, to whose niece he was married. Nine barrels of gunpowder were stowed away in the cellar, and with these Taylor declared that he would blow up all that remain el of the castle, burying himself and his companions wi h their enemies in the ruins, unless they received a promise of life. This was refused by the savage Carew, who, placing a. guard upon the entrance to the cellar, as it was then after sunset, re- turned to the work of slaughter next morning. Cannon balls were discharged among the Irish in their last dark retreat, and Taylor was forced by his companions to surrender un- conditionally ; but when some of the English officers descen- ded into the cellar, they found the wounded Mac Geoghe- gan, with a lighted torch in his hand, staggering to throw it into the gunpowder. Cajitain Power thereupon seized him by the arms, and the others despatched him with their Bwords ; but the work of death was not yet completed. 802 THE STORY OF IRELAND. Fifty-eiglit of those who had surrendered were hanged that day in the English camp, and some others were hanged a few days after; so that not one of the one hundred and forty-three heroic defenders of Dunhoy survived. On the 22nd of June the remains of the castle were blown up by Carew with the gunpowder found therein". Few episodes of Irish history have been nore warmly eulogized than this heroic defence of Dunboy ; nor would it be easy to find in the history of any country one more largely calculated to excite sympathy and admiration. Dr. Robert Dwyer Joyce, in his published volume of Ballads , Romances, and Songs, contributes a truly gi'aphic poem on the subject. Subjoined are the concluding stanzas: — THE SACK OF DUNBTJI. * * « « • • Nearer yet they crowd and come, With taunting and yelling and thundering drum, With taunting and yelling the hold they environ. And swear that its towers and defenders must fall, While the cannon are set, and their death-hail of iron Crash wildly on bastion and turret and wall; And the ramparts are torn from their base to their brow; Ho! will they not yield to the murderers now? No! its huge towers shall float over Cleena's bright sea, Ere the Gael prove a craven in lonely Dunbui. Like the fierce god of battle, Mac Geoghegan goes From rampart to wall, in the face of his foes; Now his voice rises high o'er the camion's fierce din, Whilst the taunt of the Saxon is loud as before, But a yell thund^s up from his warriors within, And they daeh through the gateway, down, down to the shore, With their chief rushing on. Like a storm in its wrath, They sweep the cowed Saxon to death in their path; Ahi dearly he '11 purchase the fall of the free. Of the lion-souled warriorsi of lonely Dunbui! Leaving terror behind them, and death in their train, Now they stand on their walls 'mid the dying and slain. And the night is around them — the battle is still — That lone summer midnight, ah! short is its reign; For the morn springeth upward, and valley and hill Fling back the fierce echoes of conflict again. And see! how the foe rushes up to the breach, T«wardB the green waving banner he yet may oot reach, THE STORY OF IRELAND. 303 For look how the Gael flings him back to the sea, From the blood -reeking ramparts of lonely Dunbui! Night cometh again, and the white stars look down, From the hold to the beach, where the batteries frown. Night cometh again, but affrighted she flies, Like a black Indian queen from the fierce panther's roar, And morzving leaps up in the wide -spreading skies, To his welcoiwe of thunder and flame evermore; For the guns of the Saxon crush fearfully there. Till the walls and the towers and ramparts are bare. And the foe make their last mighty swoop on the free, The brave hearted warriors of lonely Dunbui! "Within the red breach see Mac Geoghegan stand, With the blood of the foe on his arm and his brand. And he turns to his warriors, and ** fight we", says he, **For country, for freedom, religion, and all: Better sink into death, and for ever be free. Than yield to the false Saxon's mercy and thrall!'* And they answer with brandish of sparth and of glaive : ** Let them come: we will give them a welcome and grave; Let them come: from their swords could we flinch, could we flee. When we fight for our country, our God, and Dunbui?" They came, and the Gael met their merciless shock — Flung them backward like spray from the lone Skellig rock; But they rally, as wolves springing up to the death Of their brother of famine, the bear of the snow — He hurls them adown to the ice-fields beneath. Rushing back to his dark norland cave from the foe; — So up to the breaches they savagely bound, Thousands still thronging beneath and around, Till the firm Gael is driven — till the brave Gael must flee In, into the chambers of lonely Dunbui ! In chamber, in cellar, on stairway and tower, Evermore they resisted the false Saxon's power; Through the noon, through the eve, and the darkness of night The clangour of battle rolls fearfully there. Till the morning leaps upward in glory and light. Then, where are the true-hearted warriors of Beare ? They have found them a refuge from torment and chain, They have died with their chief, save the few who remain, And that few — oh, fair Heaven! on the high gallows tree, They swing by the ruins of lonely Dunbui! Long, long in the hearts of the brave and the free Li\e the warriors who difid in the lonely Duabui — 304 THE STORY OF IRELAND. Down time's silent river their fair names shall go, A light to our race towards the long coming day; t31 the billows of time shall be checked in their flow Can we find names so sweet for remembrance as they! And we will hold their memories for ever and aye, A halo, a glory that ne'er shall decay, We '11 set them as stars o'er eternity's sea. The names of the heroes who fell at Dunbui! Daring the progress of the siege at Dunboy, Carew had despatched a force to Dursey island, which, landing in the night, succeeded in overpowering the small and in- deed unwary garrison left there; '^so that'*, as a historian remarks, no roof now remained to the Lord of Bearhaven". Donal, collecting his people, one and all, men, women, and children, as well as all the herds and removable property of the clan, now retired eastward upon his great natural ^stronghold of Glengarriffe. Here he defied and defeated every attempt to dislodge him.* For three months he awaited with increasing anxiety and suspense the daily- expect }d news from Spain. Alas I In the words of one of our historians, "the ill-news from Spain in September^ threw a gloom over those mountains deeper than was ever cast by equinoctial storm". But here we must pause for awhile to trace the movements of O'Donnell and O'Neill after the parting at Innishannon. * On one occasion a fierce and protracted battle ensued between him and the combined forces of Wilmot, Selsby, and Slingsby: **A bitter fight", saysCarew, "maintained without intermissionforsixe howers; the Enemy not leaving their pursuit untill they came in sight of the campe; for whose relief e two regiments were drawne forth to gieve countenance, and Downings was sent with one hundred and twenty choisse men to the succour of Barry and Selby, who in the reare were so hotly charged by the Rebels that they came to the Sword and Pike; and the skirmish continued till night parted them^\ Notwithstanding their immense superiority in numbers, night was a welcome relief to the English; for it not only saved them from a perilous position, but enabled them to get off an immense spoil of cattle, which early in the day they had taken from the Irish. Bril- liant as was the victory for O'Sullivan in other respects, the loss thus sustained must have been most severe — two thousand cows, four thousand sheep, and one thousand horse, according to Carew; a store of sheep and kine which even in these days of ' * cattle shows" and * * agricultural societies", it would be difficult to collect ia the same locality. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 307 XLIX. — HOW THE FALL OF DUNBOY CAUSED KING PHILIP TO CHANGE ALL HIS PLANS, AND RECALL THE EXPEDITION FOR IRELAND; AND HOW THE REVERSE BROKE THE BRAVE HEART OF RED HUGH. HOW THE ^^LION OF THE NORTH" 8T0C D AT BAY, AND MADE HIS FOES TREMBLE TO THE LAST. HREE days after the defeat at Kinsale, O'Don- nell — having deputed his brother Ruari to com- mand the clan in his absence — accompanied by rjMiw his confessor, his secretary, and some military attaches or aides-de-camp, sailed from Castle- haven for Corunna, where he arrived on the 14th of January. " He was received with high dis- tinction by the Marquis of Cara9ena and other nobles, 'who evermore gave O'Donnell the right hand; which within his government', says Carew, ^ he would not have done to the greatest duke in Spain'. He travelled through Gallicia, and at Santiago de Compostella was royally entertained by the archbishop and citizens ; but in bull-fighting on the stately Alameda he had small plea- sure. With teeth set and heart on fire, the chieftain hur- ried on, traversed the mountains of Gallicia and Leon, and drew not bridle until he reached Zamora, where King Philip was then holding his court. With passionate zeal he pleaded his country's cause ; entreated that a greater fleet and a stronger army might be sent to Ireland without delay, unless his Catholic majesty desired to see his ancient Milesian kinsmen and allies utterly destroyed and trodden into earth by the tyrant Elizabeth ; and above all, what- ever was to be done he prayed it might be done instantly, while O'Neill still held his army on foot and his banner flying ; while it was not yet too late to rescue poor Erin from the deadly fangs of those dogs of England. The king received him affectionately, treated him with high con- sideration, and actually gave orders for a powerful force to be drawn together at Corunna for another descent upoD Ireland".* * MitcheL 808 THE STORY OF IRELAND. He returned to that port, from which he could every day look out across the weste^'n waves that lay betweei? him and home, and where he could be kept constantly informed of what was passing in Ireland. Spring was over and gone, and summer too had passed away, but still the exigencies of Spanish policy delayed the promised expedi- tion".* "That armament never sailed; and poor O'Donnell never saw Ireland more; for news arrived in Spain, a few months after, that Dun-baoi Castle, the last strong- hold in Munster that held out for King Philip, was taken; and Beare-haven, the last harbour in the south that was open to his ships, effectually guarded by the English. The Spanish preparations were countei-manded, and Red Hugh was once more on his journey to the court, to renew his almost hopeless suit, and had arrived at Simancas, two leagues from Valladolid, when he suddenly fell sick; his gallant heart was broken, and he died there on the 10th of September, 1602. He was buried by order of the king with royal honours, as befitted a prince of the Kinel- Conal ; and the chapter of the cathedral of St. Francis, in the stately city of Valladolid, holds the bones of as noble a chief and as stout a warrior as ever bore the wand of chieftaincy, or led a clan to battle". f **Thus", says another writer, "closed the career of one of the iDrightest and noblest characters in any history. His youth, his early captivity, his princely generosity, his daring courage, his sincere piety, won the hearts of all who came in contact with him. He was the sword, as O'Neill was the brain, of the Ulster confederacy: the Ulysses and Achilles of the war, they fought side by side without jealousy or envy, for almost as long a period as their prototypes had spent in besieging Troy". One cannot peruse unmoved the quaint and singular recital of O'Donnell's characteristic merits and virtues given by the Four Masters. ^ Of him it can with scrupu- lous truth be said that — unlike not a few others, famed as soldierB, or rulers, or statesmen — his character, in ever^f ♦ M*Gee. t Mitchel THE STORY OF IRELAND. 309 phase, was pure and noble; and that his private life as well as his public career was worthy of admiration, with- out stain and without reproach. Meanwhile O'Neill had set out homeward at the head of the shattered Ulster contingent; and now the lord deputy felt that the moment had come for a supreme effort to pour down upon and overwhelm him. The " Lion of the North" was struck, and, badly wounded, was retreat- ing to his lair. This was surely the time for pressing him to the death — for surrounding, capturing, or slaying the once dreaded foe. So throughout Leinster, Connacht, and Ulster, the cry was spread for the English garrisons, and all natives who would mark themselves for favour and consideration, to rise simultaneously and burst in upon the territories of the confederate chiefs ; while the deputy swiftly assembled troops to intercept, capture, or destroy them on their homeward way from the south. The Irish cause was down — disastrously and hopelessly. Now, therefore, was the time for all who "bow the knee and worship the rising sun" to show their zeal on the win- ning side. Tyrconncll and Tyrowen, as well as the terri- tories of O'Rorke and Maguire, were inundated by con- verging streams of regular troops and volunteer raiders ; while O'Neill, like a "lion", indeed, who finds that the hunter is rifling his home, made the earth tremble in his path to the rescue ! With the concentrated passion of des- peration he tore through every obstacle, routed every op- posing army, and marched — strode — to the succour of his people, as if a thunderbolt cleared the way. Soon his enemies were made to understand that the " Lion of the North" was still alive and unsubdued. But it was, in sooth, a desperate cause that now taxed to its uttermost the genius of Hugh. The lord deputy, Mountjoy, pro- ceeded to the north to take command in person against him; while "Dowcra, marching out of Derry, pressed O'Neill from the north and north-east". Mountjoy ad- vanced on Hugh's family seat, Dungannon; but O'Neill could ever better bear to see his ancestral home in ashes than to have it become the shelter of his foes. The lord deputy " discovered it in the distance, as Norris had once 310 THE STORY OF IRELAND. before done, in flames, kindled by the hand of its strait- ened proprietor". With vigour and skill undiminished and spirit undaunted, Hugh rapidly planned and carried out his measures of defensive operations. In fine, it was in this moment of apparent wreck and ruin and despair, that O'Neiirs character rose into positive grandeur and subli- mity, and that his glorious talents shone forth in their great- est splendour. Never", says one of our historians, did the genius of Hugh O'Neill shine out brighter than in these last defensive operations. In July, Mountjoy writes apologeti- cally to the council, that ^notwithstanding her Majesty's great forces O'Neil doth still live'. He bitterly complains of his consummate caution, his ^ pestilent judgment to spread and to nourish his own infection', and of the reverence en- tertained for his person by the native population. Early in August, Mountjoy had arranged what he hoped might prove the finishing stroke in the struggle; Dowcra from Derry, Chichester from Carrickfergus, Danvers from Armagh, and all who could be spared from Mountjoy, Charlemont, and Mountnorris, were gathered under his command, to the number of eight thousand men, for a foray into the interior of Tyrone. Inisloghlin, on the borders of Down and Antrim, which contained a great quantity of valuables belonging to O'Neill, was captured, Magherlowney and Tulloghoge were next taken. At the latter place stood the ancient stone chair on which the O'Neills were inaugurated, time out of mind; it was now broken into atoms by Mountjoy 's orders. But the most effective warfare was made on the growing crops. The eight thousand men spread themselves over the fertile fields, along the valleys of the Bann and the Roe, destroy- ing the standing grain with fire, where it would burn, or with the praca, a peculiar kind of harrow, tearing it up by the roots. The horsemen trampled crops into the earth which had generously nourished them ; the infantry shore them down with their sabres ; and the sword, though in a very different sense from that of Holy Scripture, was, in- deed, converted into a sickle. The harvest moon never shone upon such fields in any Christian land. In Septem- ber, Mountjoy reported to Cecil, Hhat between Tullaghogo THE STORY OF IRELAND. 311 and Toome there lay unburied a thousand dead', and that since his arrival on the Blackwater — a period of a couple of months — there were three thousand starved in Tyrone. In 0' Cane's country, the misery of his clansmen drove the chief to surrender to Dowcra, and the news of Hugh Roe's death having reached Donegal, his brother repaired to Athlone, and made his submission to Mountjoy. Early in December, O'Neill, unable to maintain himself on the river Roe, retired with six hundred foot and sixty horse to Glencancean, near Lough Neagh, the most secure of his fastenesses. ®His brother Cormac, McMahon, and Art O'Neil, of Clandeboy, shared with him the wintry hard- ships of that asylum, while Tyrone, Clandeboy, and Monaghan, were given up to horrors, surpassing any that had been known or dreamt of in former wars". By this time 0' Sullivan had bravely held his position in Glengarriffe for full six months against all the efforts of the Munster army. That picturesque glen, whose beauty is of world-wide fame, was for Donal a camp formed by nature, within which the old and helpless, the women and chil- dren of his clan, with their kine and sheep, were safely placed, while the fighting force, which, with Tyrrell's con- tingent, did not exceed 800 men, guarded the few passes through which alone the alpine barriers of the glen could be penetrated. Here the little community, as we might call them, housed in tents of evergreen boughs, lived through- out the summer and autumn months, ^'waiting for the news from Spain". They fished the '^fishful river" that winds through that elysian vale, and the myriad confluent streams that pour down from the '^hundred lakes" of Caha. They hunted the deer that in those days, as in our own, roamed wild and free through the densely wooded craggy dells. Each morning the guards were told off for the mountain watches ; and each evening the bugles of the chief, returning from his daily inspection, or the joyous shouts of victory that proclaimed some new assault of the enemy repulsed, woke the echoes of the hills. And per- haps in the calm summer twilight, the laugh and the song went round; the minstrels touched their harps, and the clansmen improvised their simple rustic sports, while the B12 THE STORY OF IRELAND. Chief and Lady Aileen moved through the groups with a gracious smile for all ! For they nothing doubted that soon would come the glad tidings that king Philip's ships were in the bay; and then 1 — Beara would be swept of the hated foe, and their loved Dunboy again would rise And mock the English rover! Alas ! this happy dream was to fade in sorrow, and die out in bitterest reality of despair! News came indeed from Spain at length ; but it was news that sounded the knell of all their hopes to 0' Sullivan and his people ! O'Donnell was dead, and on hearing of the fall of Dunboy the Spanish government had countermanded the expedi- tion assembled and on the point of sailing for Ireland ! This was heart-crushing intelligence for Donal and his confederates. Nevertheless they held out still. There remained one faint glimmer in the north ; and while there was a sword unsheathed anywhere in the sacred cause of fatherland, they would not put up theirs. They gave Carew's captains hot work throughout Desmond for the remainder of the autumn, capturing several strong posi- tions, and driving in his outlying garrisons in Muskerry and the Carberies. But soon even the northern ray went out, and the skies all around were wrapt in Cimmerian gloom. There was room for hope no more ! What was now DonaVs position? It is difficult ade- quately to realise it ! Winter was upon him ; the moun- tains were deep in snow ; his resources were exhausted ; he was cooped up in a remote glen, with a crowd of help- less people, the aged and infinn, women and children, and with barely a few hundred fighting men to guard them. He was environed by foes on all hands. The nearest point where an ally could be reached was in Ulster, at the other extremity of Ireland — two or three hundred miles away— and the country between him and any such friendly ground was all in the hands of the English, and swarmed with their garrisons and scouring parties. The resolution taken by 0' Sullivan under these circum- stances was one which has ever since excited amongst his- THE arORY OF illELAND. 313 torical writers and military critics the liveliest sentiments of astonishment and admiration. It was to pierce through his surrounding foes, and fight his way northward inch by inch to Ulster ; convoying meantime the women and chil- dren, the aged, sicJc, and wounded of his clan — in fine, all who might elect to claim his protection and share his re- treat rather than trust the perils of remaining. It was this latter feature which preeminently stamped the enter- prise as almost without precedent. For four hundred men, under such circumstances, to cut their way from Glengar- rifie to Leitrim, even if divested of every other charge or duty save the clearing of their own path, would be suffi- ciently daring to form an episode of romance ; and had Donal more regard for his own safety than for his " poor people", this would have been the utmost attempted by him. But he was resolved, let what might befal, not to abandon even the humblest or the weakest amongst them. While he had a sword to draw, he would defend them ; and he would seek no safety or protection for himself that was not shared by them. His own wife and, at least, the youngest of his children, he left behind in charge of his devoted foster-brother, Mac Swiney, who successfully con- cealed them until the chiefs return, nearly eight months subsequently, in an almost inaccessible spot at the foot of an immense precipice in the GlengarrifFe mountains, now known as the Eagle's Nest. Many other families also elected to try the chance of escape from Carew's scouring parties, and remained boUnd, hidden in the fastnesses of that wild region. 314 THE STORY OF IRELAND. L. — THE RETREAT TO LEITRIM ; " THE MOST ROMANTIC AND GALLANT ACHIEVEMENT OF THE AGE". N the last day of December, 1602, was com- menced this memorable retreat, which every writer or commentator, whether of that period or of our own, civil or military, English or Irishjhas concurred in characterising as scarcely ^ to be paralleled in history.* Tyrrell and other '^^V^ of the confederates had drawn off some time previously, when sauve qui pent evidently became the maxim with the despair-stricken band; so that 0' Sul- livan's force when setting out from Glengarriffe consisted exactly of four hundred fighting men, and about six hun- dred non-combatants, women, children, aged and infirm people, and servants. f Even in our own day, and in time of peace, with full facilities of transport and supply, the commissariat arrangements necessary to be made before- hand along the route of such a body— a thousand souls- would require some skill and organization. But 0' Sulli- van could on no day tell where or how his people were to find sustenance for the morrow. He had money enough, J it is true, to purchase supplies ; but no one durst sell them to him, or permit him to take them. Word was sent through the country by the lord president for all, on peril of being treated as O'Sullivan^s covert or open abettors, to fall upon him, to cross his road, to bar his way, to watch him at the fords, to come upon him by night ; and, above all, * ** We read of nothiQg more like to the expedition of Young Cyrus and the Ten Thousand Greeks, than this retreat of O'Sul- hvan Beare" — Ahhe Mac Geoghegan, One of the most extraordinary retreats recorded in history" — Haverty. "A retreat almost unparalleled" — M^Gee. **The most romantic and gallant achievement of the age"— Davis. t Histor'm Catholicce Hibernice, Kaverty, M*Gee, Mac Geoghe- gan. X Even on the last day of his terrible retreat, we find him able to pay a guide very liberally in gold pieces. THE STORY OF IRELAND, 315 to drive off or destroy all cattle or other possible means of sustenance, so that of sheer necessity his party must perish on the way. Whose lands soever 0' Sullivan vrould be found to have passed through unresisted, or whereupon he was allowed to find food of any kind, the government would consider forfeited. Such were the circumstances under which the Lord of Beara and his immortal Four Hundred set out on their mid-winter retreat on the 31st December, 1602. That evening, Don Philip tells us, they reached and en- camped at "a place on the borders of Muskerry, called by the natives Acharis".* Next day, 1st January, 1603, they reached before noon", Balebrunia" (Bally vourny), famed as the retreat of St. Gubeneta, whose ruined church and penitential stations are still frequented by pious pilgrims. Here 0' Sullivan and his entire force halted, that they might begin their journey by offering all their sufferings to God, and supplicating the powerful prayers of His saint. Donal and several members of his family made gifts to the altar, and the little army, having prayed for some time, resumed their weary march. The ordeal commenced for them soon. They were assailed and harassed all the way "by the sons of Thadeus Mac Carthy", several being wounded on both sides. They cleared their road, however, and that night encamped in "O'Kimbhi" (O^Keefe's country: Duhallow); "but", says Philip, " they had little rest at night after such a toilsome day, for they were constantly molested by the people of that place, and suffered most painfully from • I am not aware that any one hitherto has identified this spot; but it is, nevertheless, plainly to be found. The place is the junc- tion of some mountain roads, in a truly wild and solitary locaHty, about a mile north of the present village of Bealnageary, which is between Gougane Barra and Macroom, In a little grove the ruined church of Afjharis (marked on the Ordnance maps) identifies for us the locaHty of Acharis'\ It is on the road to Bally vourney by O'Sulh van's route, which was from Glengarriffe eastward by his castle of the Fawn's Rock (** Carrick-an Asa"), where he left a ward; thence through the Pass of the Deer (**Ceam-an-eih") northward to Agharis. 316 THE STORY OF IRieOLAND. hunger. For they had been able to bring with them but one day's provisions, and these they had consumed on the first day's march". Next morning they pushed forward towards the confines of Limerick, designing to reach that ancient refuge of the oppressed and vanquished, the his- toric Glen of Aherlow, where at least they hoped for rest in safety during a few days' halt, but their path now lay through the midst of their foes — right between the garri- sons of Charleville and Buttevant, and they scarcely hoped to cross the river in their front without a heavy penalty. And truly enough, as the faint and weary cavalcade reached the bank, a strong force under the brother of Viscount Barry encountered them at Bellaghy Ford. The women and children were at once put to the rear, and the hunger-wasted company, nevertheless, all unflinchingj came up to the conflict like heroes. It was a bitter fighi^ but despair gave energy to that desperate fugitive band. They literally swept their foes before them, and would not have sufiered a man to escape them had not hunger and terrible privation told upon them too severely to allow of a pursuit. Dr. Joyce chronicles this combat for us in one of his ballads: We stood so steady, All under fire, We stood so steady. Our long spears ready To vent our ire — To dash on the Saxon, Our mortal foe, And lay him low In the bloody mire! *T was by Blackwater, When snows were wliit^, 'T was by Blackwater, Our foes for the slaughter Stood full in sight; But we were ready With our long spears; And we had no fears But we 'd win the fight. Their bullets came whistling Upon our rank. Their bullets came whistling, THE STORY OF IRELAND. 317 Their bay'nets were bristling On th' other bank. Yet we stood steady. And each good blade Ere the morn did fade At their life-blood drank, «* Hurra! for Freedom!" Came from our van; "Hurra! for Freedom! Our swords — we '11 feed 'em As but we can— With vengeance we '11 feed 'em!'' Then down we crashed, Through the wild ford dashed, And the fray began! Horses to horses And man to man — O'^r dying horses And blood and corses O'Sullivan, Our general, thundered; And we were not slack To slay at his back Till the flight began. Oh! how we scattered The foemen then — Slaughtered and scattered And chased and shattered, By shore and glen ; — To the wall of Moyallo, Few fled that day, — Will they bar our way When we come again ? Our dead freres we buried,— They were but few, — Our dead freres we buried Where the dark waves hurried And flashed and flew: Oh! sweet be their slumber Who thus have died In the battle's tide, Innisfail, for you! Pushing on for Aherlow — the unwounded of the soldiers carrying between them the wounded of the past three days' conflict — after a march of thirty miles they reached at 318 THE STORY OF IRELAND. length that vast solitude", as Don Philip calls it. They were so worn-out by travel and hunger, toil and suffering, that the night sentinels posted around the little camp could scarcely perform their duty.* The prospect of recruiting strength by a few days' repose here had to be abandoned, lest the foes now gathering around them might bar all way to the Shannon. So next morning, at dawn, having re- freshed themselves with the only food available, herbs and water, ^ they set out northward. On this day one of their severest battles had to be fought — a conflict of eight hours' duration. 0' Sullivan says that, though the enemy ex- ceeded greatly in numbers, they were deficient in military skill, otherwise the men of Beara must have been over- powered. From this forward the march grew every day more painful. Nature itself could not continue to endure such suffering. The fugitives dropped on the road from utter exhaustion, or strayed away in the wild delirious search for food. In many instances the sentries at night died at their posts from sheer privation. Arriving at Dunnohill, the starving soldiery at once occupy the place. The first who arrived ravenously devoured all the food; those who came next greedily ate everything in the way of corn, etc. On by Ballynakill, Sleive Felim, and Lateragh ; each day a prolonged strife with foes on all sides. " It was not only", says Don Philip, 'Hhat they had to fight against superior numbers; but every day O'Sullivan had fresh enemies, while his soldiers were being worn out by cold, hunger, and incessant fighting". Still they guarded faith- fully the women and children, and such of the aged as could walk without assistance; and maintained, though only by the utmost exertion, that strict discipline and pre- caution to which 0' Sullivan largely owed his safety on this march. A vanguard of forty men always went in front ; next came the sick and wounded, the women and children ; next, the baggage and the ammunition; and, last of all, protecting the rear, Donal himself with the bulk of his little force. On the 6th January, they reached the wood * Historiae Catholicae Jberniae. f Ibid. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 319 of Brosna (now Portland, in the parish of Lorha); and here Donal orders the little force to entrench themselves. Their greatest peril is now at hand. The lordly Shan- non", wide and deep, is in their front; they have no boats ; and the foe is crowding behind and around them. Donal's resort in this extremity was one worthy of his reputation as a skilful captain. Of the few horses now remaining in his cavalcade, he directed eleven to be killed. The skins he strained upon a firmly bound boat-frame which he had his soldiers to construct in the wood close by; the flesh was cooked as a luxury for the sick and woundad. In this boat, on the morning of the 8th January, he commenced to transport his little force across the Shannon, from Eed- wood. As he was in the act of so doing, there arrived on the southern bank, where the women and children, and only a portion of the rear-guard remained, the queen's sheriff of Tipperary and a strong force, who instantly began to plunder the baggage, slaughter the camp fol- lowers, and throw the women and children into the river".* One of O'Sullivan's lieutenants, in charge of the small guard which, however, yet remained, fell upon them with such vehemence, that they retired, and the last of the fugitives crossed to the Connacht shore. But there was still no rest for that hapless company. " The soldiers pressed by hunger divide themselves into two bands, and alternately sustain the attacks of the enemy, and collect provisions". Arriving at Aughrim-Hy-Maine a powerful and well ordered army under Sir Thomas Burke, Lord Clanricarde's brother, and Colonel Henry Malby, lay across their route. Even Carew himself informs us that the English force vastly exceeded the gaunt and famished band of O'Sullivan; though he does not venture in io par- ticulars. In truth Donal found himself compelled to face a pitched battle against a force of some eight hundred men with his wasted party, now reduced to less than three hun- dred. Carew briefly tells the story, so bitter for him to tell. " Nevertheless, when they saw that either they must * ffistoriae Catholicae. • 820 THE STORY OP IRELAND, make their way by the sword or perish, they gave a brave charge upon our men, in which Captain Malby was slaine; upon whose fall Sir Thomas and his troops fainting, with the loss of many men, studied their safety by flight".* The quaint record in the Annals of the Four Masters is as follows: — "O'Sullivan,' 0' Conor-Kerry, and William Burke, with their small party, were obliged to remain at Aughrim-Hy-Many to engage, fight, and sustain a battle- field, and test their true valour against the many hundreds oppressing and pursuing them. O'Sullivan, with rage, heroism, fury, and ferocity, rushed to the place where he saw the English, for it was against them that he cherished most animosity and hatred; and made no delay until he reached the spot where he saw their chief; so that he quickly and dexterously beheaded that noble Englishman, the son of Captain Malby. The forces there collected were then routed and a countless number of them slain"."|' Be- side Malby and Burke there were. left on the field by the English "three standard bearers and several officers". It was a decisive victory for the Prince of Beare ; but it only purchased for him a day's respite. That night, for the first time— terrible affliction — he had to march forward, unable to bring with him his sick or wounded ! Next day the Eng- lish (who could not win the fight) came up and butchered these helpless ones in cold blood ! I summarise from the Historice Catholicce the following narrative of the last days of this memorable retreat: — " Next day at dawn he crossed SHeve Muire (Mount Mary) and came down on some villages where he hoped to procure provisions. But he found all the cattle and provisions carried away, and the people of the district ar- rayed against him, under the command of Mac David, * Pacata Hibernla. In the next following sentence Carew gives with horrid candour and equanimity, a picture, hardly to be paral- leled in the records of savagery: — '^Next morning Sir Charlea (Wihnot) coming to seeke the enemy in their campe, hee entered into their quarter without resistance, where he found notlimg but hurt and sick inen, whose j^ains and lives hy the soldiers were both d€termined^\ t Afmih of th Four Masters, page 2319, THE STORY OF IRELAND. 821 the lord of the place. He withdrew at dusk to some thick woods at Sliebh Iphlinn. But in the night he received in- formation that the people intended to surround him and cut him off. Large fires were lighted to deceive his ene- mies, and he at once set off on a night march. The soldiers suffered exceedingly. They fell into deep snow drifts, whence they dragged each other out with great difficulty. " Next day they were overtaken by Mac David. But their determined attitude made their foes retire; and so they were allowed to betake themselves to another wood called Diamhbhrach, or the Solitude. Upon entering this refuge, the men, overpowered with fatigue, lay down and fell asleep. When 0' Sullivan halted, finding only twelve companions with himself, he ordered fires to be lighted, in order that his scattered followers might know whither to turn upon waking. **At dawn of next day numbers of the inhabitants flocked to 0' Sullivan's bivouac, attracted by the unprece- dented spectacle of so many fires in such a lonely solitude. They furnished him gratuitously with food, and subse- quently informed Oliver Lombard, the governor of Con- naught, thaf the fires had been kindled by the herdsmen. Many of the Catholics were found to suffer very much in their feet, by reason of the severity of the weather and the length of the march. O'Connor, especially, suffered griev- ously. To give as long a rest as possible, they remained all this day in the wood ; but a night march was necessary for all. This was especially severe on O'Connor, as it was not possible that he could proceed on horseback. For, since the enemy occupied all the public routes and the paths practicable for a horse, they were cbliged to creep along by out-of-the-way paths, and frequently to help each other in places where alone they could not move. '^A guide was wanted; but God provided one. A stranger presented himself, clad in a linen garment, with bare feet, having his head bound with a white cloth, and bearing a long pole shod with iron, and presenting an ap- pearance well calculated to strike terror into the beholders. Having saluted C Sullivan and the others, he thus ad- dressed them: ' I know that you Catholics have been 21 322 THE STORY OF IRELAND. overwhelmed by various calamities, that you are fleeing from the tyranny of heretics, that at the hill of Aughrim you routed the queen's troops, and that you are now going to O'Euarke, who is only fifteen miles off ; but you want a guide. Therefore, a strong desire has come upon me of leading you thither'. After some hesitation 0' Sullivan accepted his offer, and ordered him to receive two hun- dred gold pieces. These he took, *not as a reward, but as a mark of our mutually grateful feelings for each other'. The darkness of the night, their ignorance of the country, and their unavoidable suspicion of their guide multiplied their fears. The slippery condition of the rocks over which they had to climb, the snow piled up by the wind, their fatigue and weakness, the swelling of their feet, tor- mented the unfortunate walkers. But O'Connor suffered most of all. His feet and legs were inflamed, and rapidly broke into ulcers. He suffered excruciating pain; but he bore it patiently for Jesus Christ. In the dead of the night they reached a hamlet. Knock Vicar {Mons Vicarii), where they refreshed themselves with fire and food. But when they were again about to proceed, O'Connor could not stand, much less walk. Then his fellow soldiers car- ried him in their arms in alternate batches of four, until they found a wretched horse, upon the back of which they placed him. At length, when they had passed Cor Sliebh, the sun having risen, their guide pointed out O'Ruarke's castle in the distance, and having assured them that all danger was now passed, he bade them fare- well". Not unlike the survivors of the Greek Ten Thousand, to whom they have been so often compared, who, when they first descried the sea, broke from the ranks and rushed forward wildly shouting Thalatta! Thalatta!" that group of mangled and bleeding fugitives — for now, alas! they were no more — when they saw through the trees in the distance the towers of Leitrim Castle, sank upon the earth, and for the first time since they had quitted Beara, gave way to passionate weeping, overpowered by strange paroxysms of joy, grief, suffering, and exultation. At last —at last I — they were safe! No more days of bloody THE STORY OP IRELAND. 323 combat, and nights of terror and unrest ! No more of hunger's maddening pangs ! No more of flight for life, with bleeding feet, over rugged roads, with murderous foes behind ! Belief is at hand ! They can sleep — they can rest. They are saved — they are saved ! Then, kneel- ing on the sward, from their bursting hearts they cried aloud to the God of their fathers, who through an ordeal so awful had brought them, few as they were, at last to a haven of refuge ! They pushed forward, and about eleven o'clock in the forenoon reached O'Korke's castle. Here they were gazed upon as if they were objects of miraculous wonder. All that generous kindness and tender sympathy could devise, was quickly called to their aid. Their wounds and bruises were tended by a hundred eager hands. Their every want was anticipated. Alas ! how few of them now remained to claim these kindly offices. Of the thousand souls who had set out from Glengarriffe, not one hundred entered the friendly portals of Brefny Hall. Only thirty-five came in with 0' Sullivan that morning. Of these, but one was a woman — the aged mother of Don Philip, the histo- rian ; eighteen were attendants or camp-followers, and only sixteen were armed men ! About fifty more came in next day, in twos and threes, or were found by searching parties sent out by O'Rorke. All the rest, except some three hundred in all, who had strayed, perished on the way, by the sword, or by the terrible privations of the journey. This retreat was the last military achievement of Donal O'Sullivan. Some of the greatest commanders in history might be proud to claim an enterprise so heroic as their best title to the immortality of fame. 324 THE STORY OF IRELAND. LI. HOW THE GOVERNMENT AND HUGH MADE A TREATY OF PEACE. HOW ENGLAND CAME UNDKR THE SCOTTISH MON- ARCHY; AND HOW IRELAND HOPEFULLY HAILED THE GAELIC SOVEREIGN. HE succeeding year (1603) opened upon a state of gloom and incertitude on all hands in Ire- land. Like a strong man overpowered, wounded, and cast down, after a protracted and exhaust- ing struggle, yet still unsubmitting and not totally reft of strength, the hapless Irish nation lay prostrate — fallen but unsubdued — unwil- ling to yield, but too weak to rise. The English power, on the other hand, was not without its sense of exhaustion also. It had passed through an awful crisis ; and had come out of the ordeal victorious, it is true, but greatly by happy chance, and at best only by purchas- ing victory most dearly O'Neill was still unconquered; and though the vast majority of the lesser chiefs confede- rated with him in the recent struggle, had been compelled to submit and sue for pardon, O'Donnell, O'Ruark, Maguire, and 0' Sullivan, remained to him;* and, on the whole, he was still master of elements capable of being organized into a formidable power, perhaps to renew the conflict at some future favourable opportunity. Elizabeth and her ministers were too wise and prudent to allow ex- ultation over their success to blind them to the fact that so much of it had been due to fortuitous circumstances, and that 'twere decidedly better, if possible, to avoid having the combat tried over again. Mountjoy was in- structed to " sound" the defeated, but unsubdued and still dangerous Tyrone as to terms of peace and submission, lest, being hopeless of " pardon" (as they put it), he might * All that are out doe seeke for mercy excepting O'Rorkeand O'SuUivan, who is now with O'Rorke"— Xorc? Deputy Mountjoy M the Privy Council, Feb. 26, 1603. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 325 continue to stand out. Negociations were accordingly opened with O'Neill. Sir William Godolphin and Sir Garrett Moore were sent as commissioners to arrange with him the terms of peace", the latter (ancestor of the present Marquis of Drogheda) being a warm personal friend of O'Neill's. "They found him", we are told, "in his re- treat near Lough Neagh, early in March, and obtained his promise to give the deputy an early meeting at Melli- font". " The negociations", according to another writer, " were hurried on the deputy's part by private informa- tion which he had received of the queen's death; and fearing that O'Neill's views might be altered by that cir- cumstance, he immediately desired the commissioners to close the agreement, and invite O'Neill under safe conduct to Drogheda to have it ratified without delay". On the 30th of March, 1603, Hugh met Mountjoy by appoint- ment at Mellifont Abbey, where the terms of peace were duly ratified on each side, O'Neill having on his part gone through the necessary forms and declarations of submis- sion. The singularly favourable conditions conceded to O'Neill show conclusively the estimate held by the Eng- lish council of their victory over him, and of his still for- midable influence. He was to have complete amnesty for the past ; he was to be restored in blood, notwithstanding his attainder and outlawry; he was to be reinstated in his dignity of Earl of Tyrone ; he and his people were to enjoj full and free exercise of their religion ; newsletters- patent" were to issue, regranting to him and other northern chiefs very nearly the whole of the lands occupied by their respective clans. On the other hand, Hugh was to renounce once and for ever the title of "The O'Neill", should accept the English title of " Earl", and should allow English law to run through his territories.* Truly liberal terms, — generous, indeed, they might under all circumstances be called, — if meant to be faithfully kept ! It is hard to think O'Neill believed in the good faith of men whose subtle policy he knew so well. It may be that he doubted it thoroughly, but was powerless to * MitcheL 326 THE STORY OF IRELAND. accomplish more than to obtain such terms, whatever their worth for the present, trusting to the future for the 7est. Yet it seemed as if, for the first time, a real and lasting peace was at hand. James the Sixth of Scotland, son of the beautiful and ill-fated Mary Queen of Scots, sue- ceeded Elizabeth on the English throne ; and even before his express declaration of a conciliatory policy was put forth, there ran through Ireland, as if intuitively, a belief in his friendly dispositions. And, in truth, never before did such a happy opportunity offer for adjusting, at long last and for ever, peacefully and amicably, the questions at issue between Ireland and England. In James the Irish — always so peculiarly swayed by considerations of race or kinship — beheld a Gaelic prince, a king of the sister kingdom, Scotland, to whom had reverted the king- dom and crown of England. Kings of England of the now extinct line had done them grievous wrong ; but no king of friendly Scotland had broken the traditional kindly relations between Hibernia and Caledonia. Taking King James the Gael for a sovereign was not like bowing the neck to the yoke of the invading Normans or Tudors. As the son of his persecuted mother, he was peculiarly recommended to the friendly feelings of the Irish people. Mary of Scotland had much to entitle her to Irish sym- pathy. She was a princess of the royal line of Malcolm, tracing direct descent from the Milesian princes of Dala- radia. She was the representative of many a Scottish sovereign who had aided Ireland against the Normans. Moreover, she had just fallen a victim to the tigress Eliza- beth of England, the same who had so deeply reddened with blood the soil of Ireland. She had suffered for the Catholic faith too; and if aught else were required to touch the Gaels of Ireland with compassion and sympathy, it was to be found in her youth and beauty, qualities which, when allied with innocence and misfortune, never fail to win the Irish heart. It was to the son of such a woman — the martyred Mary Queen of Scots — that the English crown and kingdom had lapsed, and with these, such claim as England might be held to have upon the Irish kingdom. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 327 What wonder if amongst the Irish the idea prevailed that now at last they could heartily offer loyalty to the sovereign on the English throne, and feel that he was neither a stranger nor a subjugator? It was indeed a great opportunity, apparently — the first that had ever offered — for uniting the three king- doms under one crown, without enforcing between any of them the humiliating relations of conqueror and con- quered. There can be no doubt whatever, that, had James and his government appreciated the peculiar op- portunity, and availed of it in a humane, wise, and gene- rous spirit, •* an end was made, and nobly, Of the old centennial feud". The Irish nation, there is every ground for concluding! would cheerfully and happily have come in to the ar- rangement; and the simplest measure of justice from the government, a reasonable consideration for the national feelings, rights, and interests, might have realised that dream of a union between the kingdoms, which the com- pulsion of conquest could never — can never^ — accomplish. But that accurst greed of plunder — that unholy passion for Irish spoil — which from the first characterised the English adventurers in Ireland, and which, unhappily, ever proved potential to mar any comparatively humane designs of the king, whenever, if ever, such designs were entertained, was now at hand to demand that Ireland should be given up to '^settlers", by fair means or by foul, as a stranded ship might be abandoned to wreckers, or as a captured town might be given up to sack and pil- lage by the assaulting soldiery. There is, however, slight reason, if any, for thinking that the most unworthy and unnatural son of Mary Queen of Scots — the pedantic and pompous James — entertained any statesmanlike gene- rosity or justice of design in reference to Ireland. The Irish expectations about him were doomed to be wofully disappointed. He became the mere creature of English policy ; and the Anglo-Irish adventurers and " settlers" 828 THE STORY OF IRELANft. yelling for plunder, were able to force that policy in their own direction. They grumbled outright at the favour- able terms of Mountjoy's treaty with O'Neill. It yielded not one acre of plunder; whereas, the teeth of thousands of those worthies had been set on edge by the anticipa- tion of the rich spoils of the "confiscated" north, which they made sure would follow upon O'Neill's subjection. "It now seemed as if the entire object of that tremendous war had been, on the part of England, to force a coronet upon the unwilling brows of an Irish chieftain, and oblige him in his own despite to accept betters patent' and broad lands *in fee'. Surely, if this were to be the 'conquest of Ulster', if the rich valleys of the north, with all their woods and waters, mills and fishings, were to be given up to these O'Neills and O'Donnells, on whose heads a price had so lately been set for traitors ; if, worse than all, their very religion was to be tolerated, and Ulster, with its verdant abbey-lands, and livings, and termon-lands, were still to set ^Reformation' at defiance; surely, in this case, the crowd of esurient undertakers, lay and clerical, had ground of complaint. It was not for this they left their homes, and felled forests, and camped on the mountains, and plucked down the Red Hand from many a castle wall. Not for this they * preached before the State in Christ Church', and cen- sured the backsliding of the times, and pointed out the mortal sin of a compromise with Jezabel!" Notwithstanding that for a year or two subsequent to James's accession, the terms of the treaty of Mellifont were in most part observed by the government, O'Neill noted well the gathering storm of discontent, to which he saw but too clearly the government would succumb at an early opportunity. By degrees the skies began to lour, and unerring indications foretold that a pretext was being gought for his immolation. ttiE STORY OF IRELAND, 829 Lri.— ."THE FLIGHT OF THE EARLS". HOW THE PRINCES OF IRELAND WENT INTO EXILE, MENACED BY DESTRUCTION AT HOME. v,^^ T was not long want- /V^'T'^j ing. An anonymous letter was found, or was pretended to have been found, at the door of the coun- cil chamber in Dub- lin Castle, purport- ing to disclose with great cir- f cumstantiality a conspiracy, of which O'Neill was the head, to seize the Castle, to murder the Lord Deputy, and raise a general revolt.* The most artful means were resorted to by all whose interest it was to procure the ruin of the northern * There seems to have been a plot of some kind; but it waa one got up by the secretary of state, Cecil himself : Lord Howth, his agent in this shocking business, inveighng O'Neill and O'Don- nell into attendance at some of the meetings. ** Artful Cecil", Bays Rev. Dr. Anderson, a Protestant divine, in his Royal Geneok^ 330 Tfe STORY OF IRELAND. chiefs, to get up a wild panic of real or affected terror on this most opportune discovery ! O'Neill well knew the natiu-e of the transaction, and the design behind it. T'he vultures must have prey — his ruin had become a state- necessity. In the month cf May, he and the other north- em chiefs were cited to answer the capital charge thus preferred against them. This they were ready to do ; but the government plotters were not just yet ready to cany out their own schemes, so the investigation was on some slight pretext postponed, and O'Neill and O'Donnell were ordered to appear in London on their defence at Mi- chaelmas. There is little doubt that hereupon, or about this time, O'Neill formed and communicated to his north- ern kinsmen and fellow-victims, the resolution of going into exile, and seeking on some friendly shore that safety which it was plain he could hope for in Ireland no longer. They at once determined to share his fortunes, and to take with them into exile their wives, children, relatives, and household attendants ; in fine, to bid an eternal fare- well to the " fair hills of holy Ireland." The sad sequel forms the subject of that remarkable work — " The Flight of the Earls ; or the Fate and Fortunes of Tyrone and Tyrconnell," by the Rev. C. P. Meehan, of Dablin ; a work full of deep and soiTowful interest to every student of Irish history. I can but briefly summarize here, as closely as possible from various authorities, that mournful chapter in our national annals. " In the begin- ning of September, 1607, nearly four months after the pretended discovery of St. Lawrence's plot, O'Neill was at Slane with the Lord Deputy, Sir Arthur Chichester ; and they conferred relative to a journey, which the for- logieSf a work printed in London in 1736, employed one St. Law- rence to entrap the Earls of Tyrone and Tyrconnell, the Lord of Delvin, and other Irish chiefs, into a sham plot which had no evidence but his. But these chiefs being informed that witnesses were to be heard against them, foolishly fled from Dublin; and so taking their guilt upon them, they were declared rebels, and six entire counties in Ulster were at once forfeited to the crown, which was what their enerzies wanted^\ tHE StOilY OF IRELAND. 331 mer was to make to London before Michaelmas, in com- pliance with a summons from the king. While here a letter was delivered to O'Neill from one John Bath, in- forming him that Maguire had arrived in a French ship in Lough Swilly". Sir John Davis, the attorney-general of that day, says: *^He, O'Neill, took leave of the lord deputy, in a more sad and passionate manner than was usual with him. From thence he went to Mellifont, and Sir Garrett Moore's house, where he wept abundantly when he took his leave, giving a solemn farewell to every child and every servant in the house, which made them all marvel, because in general it was not his manner to use such compliments". On his way northwards, we are told, he remained two days at his own residence in Dungan- non — it was hard to quit the old rooftree for ever! Thence he proceeded hastily (travelling all night) to Rathmullen, on the shore of Lough Swilly, where he found O'Donnell and several of his friends waiting, and laying up stores in the French ship. Amidst a scene of bitter anguish the illustrious party soon embarked; numbering fifty persons in all, including attendants and domestics. With O'Neill, in that sorrowful company, we are told, went — his last countess, Catherina, daughter of Maginnis; his three sons, Hugh, Baron of Dungannon, John, and Brian ; Art Oge, the son of his brother Cormac, and others of his relatives ; Euari, or Roderic O'Donnell, Earl of Tyrconnell ; Caffa or Cathbar, his brother, and his sister Nuala, who was married to Niall Garve O'Don- nell, but who abandoned her husband when he became a traitor to his country ; Hugh O'Donnell, the Earl's son, and other members of his family ; Cuconnaught Maguire, and Owen Roe Mac Ward, chief bard of Tyrconnell". It is certain", say the Four Masters, that the sea has not borne, and the wind has not wafted in modern times, a number of persons in one ship, more eminent, illustrious, or noble in point of genealogy, heroic deeds, valour, feats of arms, and brave achievements, than they Would that God had but permitted them", continue the old annalists, "to re- main in their patrimonial inheritances until the children should arrive at the age of manhood ! Woe to the heart 332 THE STORY OF IRELAND. that meditated — woe to the mind that conceived — woe to the council that recommended the project of this expe- dition, without knowing whether they should to the end of their liyes be able to return to their ancient princi- palities and patrimonies", ''With gloomy looks and sad forebodings, the clansmen of Tyrconnell gazed upon that fated ship, 'built in th' eclipse and rigged with curses dark', as she dropped down Lough Swilly, and was hid- den behind the cliffs of Fauad land. They never saw their chieftains more".* They sailed direct to Normandy. On their arrival in France, the English minister demanded their surrender as " rebels" ; but Henry the Fourth would not give them up. Passing from France through the Netherlands, they were received with marked honours by the Archduke Albert. In all the courts of Europe, as they passed on their way to the eternal city, they were objects of attention, respect, and honour, from the various princes and potentates. But it was in that Rome to which from the earliest date their hearts fondly turned — *• the common asylum of all Ca- tholics", as it is called in the epitaph on young Hugh O'Neill's tomb — that the illustrious fugitives were re- ceived with truest, warmest, and tenderest welcome. Every mark of affection, every honourable distinction, was conferred upon them by the venerable Pope, Pius the Fifth, who,, in common with all the prelates and princes of Christendom, regarded them as confessors of the faith. In conjunction with the kmg of Spain, the Holy Father assigned to each of them a liberal annual pension for their support in a manner befitting their royal birth and princely state in their lost country. Through many a year, to them, or to other distinguished Irish exiles, the Papal treasury afforded a generous and princely bounty. But those illustrious exiles drooped in the foreign climes, and soon, one by one, were laid in foreign graves. Ruari, Earl of Tyrconnell, died on the 28th July, 1608. His brother, Caffar, died on the 17th of the following Sep- ♦ MitcheL TH STORY OF IRELAND. 333 tember. Maguire died at Genoa on his way to Spain, on the 12th of the previous month — August, 1608. Young Hugh O'Neill, Baron of Dungannon (son of O'Neill), died about a year afterwards, on the 23rd September, 1609, in the twenty-fourth year of his age. Thus, in the short space of two years after the flight from Ireland, the aged Prince of Ulster found himself almost the last of that illustrious company now left on earth.^ Bowed down with years and sorrows, his soul wrung with anguish as each day's tidings from distant Ireland brought news of the unparalleled miseries and oppressions scourging his faithful people, he wandered from court to court, eating his heart", for eight years. Who can imagine or describe with what earnest passion he pleaded with prelates and princes, and besought them to think upon the wrongs of Ireland! **Ha!" (exclaims one of the writers from whom I have been summarizing), if he had sped in that mission of vengeance — if he had persuaded Paul or Philip to give him some ten thousand Italians or Spaniards, how would it have fluttered those English in their dove-cots to be- hold his ships standing up Lough Foyle with the Bloody Hand displayed.f But not so was it written in the Book. * Of all his sons, but two now survived, Conn and Henry. The latter was page to the Archduke Albert in the Low Countries, and, like his father, was beset by English spies. When the old chief- tain died at Rome, it was quickly perceived the removal of Henry would greatly free England from her nightmare apprehensions about the O'Neills. So the youthful prince was one morning found stran- gled in his bed at Brussels. The murder was enveloped in the pro- foundest mystery; but no one was at a loss to divine its cause and design. Henry had already, by his singular ability, and by certain movements duly reported by the spies, given but too much ground for concluding that if he lived he would yet be dangerous in Ireland. t In all his movements on the continent he was surrounded by a crowd of English spies, whose letters and reports, now in the State Paper Office, give minute and singularly interesting informa- tion respecting his manners, habits, conversations, etc. One of them mentions that in the evenings, after dining, if the aged prince were warm with wine", he ha4 but one topic; his face would glow, and striking the table, he would assert that they would **have a good day yet in Ireland". Alas! 334 THE STORY OP IRELAND. No potentate in Europe was willing to risk such a fore as was needed'\ To deepen the gloom that shrouded th evening of his life, he lost his sight, became totally blind and, like another Belisarius, tottered mournfully to the grave; the world on this side of which was now in every sense all dark to him. On the 20th July, 1616, the aged and heart-crushed prince passed from this earthly scene to realms where souls are free; Where tyrants taint not nature's bliss'*. It was at Rome he died, and the Holy Father ordered him a public funeral ; directing arrangements to be forthwith made for celebrating his obsequies on a scale of grandeur such as is accorded only to royal princes and kings. The world, that bows in worship before the altar of Success, turns from the falling and the fallen ; but Rome, the friend of the weak and the unfortunate, never measured its honours to nations or princes by the standard of their worldly fortunes. So the English, who would fain have stricken those illustrious fugitives of Ireland from fame and memory, as they had driven them from home and country, gnashed their teeth in rage, as they saw all Christendom assigning to the fallen Irish princes an exalted place amongst the martyr-heroes of Christian patriotism ! On the hill of the Janiculum, in the Franciscan church of San Pietro di Montoiio, they laid the Prince of Ulster in the grave which, a few years before, had been opened for his son, beside the last resting place of the Tyrconnell chiefs. Side by side they had fought through life; side by side they now sleep in death. Abovye the grave where rest the ashes of those heroes, many an Irish pilgrim has knelt, and prayed, and wept. In the calm evening, when the sun- beams slant upon the stones below, the Fathers of St. Francis often see some fig^ire prostrate upon the tomb, which as often they find wetted by the tears of the mourner. Then they know that some exiled child of Ireland has sought and found the spot made sacred and holy for him THE STORY OF IRELAND. 335 and all his nation by ten thousand memories of mingled grief and glory.* There is not perhaps in the elegiac poetry of any lan- guage anything worthy of comparison with the " Lament for the Princes of Tyrone and Tyrconnell", composed by the aged and venerable bard of O'Donnell, Owen Roe Mac Ward. In this noble burst of sorrow, rich in plain- tive eloquence and in all the beauty of true poesy, the bard addresses himself to Lady Nuala O'Donnell and her attendant mourners at the grave of the princes. Happily, of this peerless poem we possess a translation into English, ©f which it is not too much to say that it is in every sense worthy of the original, to which it adheres with great fidelity, while preserving all the spirit and tenderness of the Gaelic idiom. I allude to Mangan's admirable trans- lation, from which I take the following passages : — woman of the piercing wail! Who moumest o'er yon mound of clay With sigh and groan, Would God thou wert among the Gael ! Thou wouldst not then from day to day Weep thus alone. * Some eighteen years ago a horrible desecration well nigh de- stroyed for ever all identification of the grave so dear to Irishmen. The Eternal City — the sanctuary of Christendom — was sacri- legiously violated by invaders aa lawless and abhorrent as Alaric and his followers — the Carbonari of modem Europe, led by Mazzini and Garibaldi. The churches were profaned, the tombs were rifled, and the church of San Pietro di Montorio was converted by Garibaldi into cavalry stables! The trampling of the horses destroyed or effaced many of the tombstones, and the Irish in the city gave up all hope of safety for the one so sacred in their eyes. Happily, however, when feomo had been rescued by France on behalf of the Christian world, and when the tilth and litter had been cleared away from the desecrated church, the tomb of the Irish princes was found to have escaped with very little permanent injury. Some there are, who, perhaps, do not understand the sentiment — the principle — which claims Eomeas belonging to Christendom — notto ** Italy", or France, or Austria, or Naples. But in truth and fact, Rome represents not only *' God's acre" of the world, but is the repository of priceless treasures, gifts, and relics, which belong in common to all Christian peoples, and which they are bound to guarcU 536 THE STORY OF IRElJLNb. T were long before, around a gi-ave In green Tyrconnell, one would tind Tids loneliness; Near where Beann Boirchc's banners wave, Such grief as thine could ne'er have pined Companionless. Beside the wave, in Donegal, In Antrim's glens, or fair Dromors, Or Killilee, Or where the sunny waters fall At Assaroe, near Ema's shore, This could not be. OnDerry's plains, — in rich Drumclieff, — Throughout Armagh the Great, renowned In olden years. No day could pass, but woman's grief Would rain upon the burial-ground Fresh floods of tears ! no! — from Shannon, Boyne, and Suir, From high Ihinluce's castle walls. From Lissadill, Would flock alike both rich and poor. One wail would rise from Cruachan's hall* To Tara's hill; And some would come from Barrow side, And many a maid would leave her home On Leitrim's plains. And by melodious Banna's tide. And by the Moume and Erne, to come And swell thy strains! • * • * • • Two princes of the line of Conn Sleep in their cells of clay beside O'Donnell Roe; Three royal youths, alas! are gone, Who lived for Erin's weal, but died For Erin's woe! Ah! could the men of Ireland read The names these noteless burial stones Display to view, Their wounded hearts afresh would bleed. Their tears gush forth again, their groana Resound anew! 23 THE STORY OP IRELAND. 889 And who can marvel o'er thy grief, Or who can blame thy flowing tears, That knows their source ? O'Donnell, Dunnasava's chief, Cut off amid his vernal years, Lies here a corse, Beside his brother Cathbar, whom Tirconnell of the Helmets mouma In deep despair — For valour, truth, and comely bloom, For all that greatens and adorns, A peerless pair. • « * « • • When high the shout of battle rose On fields where Freedom's torch still burned Through Erinn's gloom, If one — if barely one — of those Were slain, all Ulster would have mourned The hero's doom! If at Athboy, where hosts of brave Ulidian horsemen sank beneath The shock of spears, Young Hugh O'Neill had found a grave, Long must the North have wept his death With heart-wrung tears! • « « * • 4 What do I say? Ah, woe is me! Already we bewail in vain Their fatal fall! And Erinn, once the Great and Free, Now vainly mourns her breakless chain And iron thrall I Then, daughter of O'Donnell, dry Thine overflowing eyes, and turn Thy heart aside, For Adam's race is bom to die, And sternly the sepulchral urn Mocks human pride! Look not, nor sigh, for earthly throne. Nor place thy trust in arm of clay; But on thy knees Uplift thy soul to God alone, For all things go their destined way As lie decrees. 340 THE STORY OF IRELAND. Embrace the faithful crucifix, And seek the path of pain and prayer Thy Saviour trod; Nor let thy spirit intermix With earthly hope and worldly care Its groans to God! And Thou, mighty Lord! whose ways Are far above our feeble minds To understand; Sustain us in those doleful days, And render light the chain that binds Our fallen land! Look down upon our dreary state, And through the ages that may still Roll sadly on, Watch Thou o'er hapless Erinn's fate, And shield at last from darker ill The blood of Conn! There remains now but to trace the fortunes of 0' Sul- livan, the last of O^Neill's illustrious companions in arms. The special vengeance of England marked Donal for a fatal distinction among his fellow chiefs of the ruined confederacy. He was not included in the amnesty settled by the treaty of Mellifont. We may be sure it was a sore thought for O'Neill that he could not obtain for a friend so true and tried as 0' Sullivan, participation in the terms granted to himself and other of the Northern chieftains. But the government was inexorable. The Northerns had yet some power left; from the Southern chiefs there now was nought to fear. So, we are told, "there was no pardon for O'Sullivan". Donal accompanied O'Neill to London the year succeeding James's accession; but he could obtain no relaxation of the policy decreed against him. He returned to Ireland only to bid it an eternal farewell! Assembling all that now remained to him of family and kindred, he sailed for Spain a.d. 1604, He was received with all honour by king Philip, who forth- with created him a grandee of Spaki, knight of the mili- tary order of St. lago, and subsequently Earl of Bear- haven. The king, moreover, assigned to him a pension of " three hundred pieces of gold monthly". The end of thi^ illustrious exile was truly tragic. His young son, tHB STORi OF IREtAND. 341 Donal, had a quarrel with an ungrateful Anglo-Irishman named Bath, to whom the old chief had been a kind bene- factor. Young Donal's cousin, Philip— the author of the Historice Catholicce Ihernice — interfered with mediative in- tentions, when Bath drew his sword, uttering some grossly insulting observations against the O'Sullivans. Philip and he at once attacked each other, but the former soon overpowered Bath, and would have slain him but for the interposition of friends; for all this had occurred at a royal monastery in the suburbs of Madrid, within the precincts of which it was a capital offence to engage in such a combat. The parties were separated. Bath was drawn off, wounded in the face, when he espied not far off the old chieftain, 0' Sullivan Beare, returning from Mass, at which that morning, as was his wont, he had re- ceived Holy Communion. He was pacing slowly along, unaware of what had happened. His head was bent upon his breast, he held in his hands his gloves and his rosary beads, and appeared to be engaged in mental prayer. Bath, filled with fury, rushed suddenly behind the aged lord of Beara, and ran him through the body. 0' Sullivan fell to earth; they raised him up — he was dead. Thus mournfully perished, in the fifty- seventh year of his age, Donal, the Last Lord of Beare", as he is most frequently styled, a man whose personal virtues and public worth won for him the esteem and affection of all his contemporaries. His nephew Philip became an officer in the Spanish navy, and is known to literary fame as the author of the standard work of history which bears his nnme, as well as of several publications of lesser note. Yuung Donal, son of the murdered chieftain, entered the arniy and fell at Belgrade, fighting against the Turks. The father of Philip the historian (Dermod, brother of Donal Prince of Beare), died at Corunna, at the advanced age of a hundred years, and was foUcwed to the grave soon aftei by his long-wedded wife, "Two pillars of a ruined aisle — two old trees of the land; Two voyagers on a sea of grief; long suflPrers hand in hand". 342 TfiE STORY OF IRELaJtO. LIII. A MEMORABLE EPOCH. HOW MILESIAN IRELAND FINALLY DISAPPEARED FROM HISTORY; AND HOW A NEW IRELAND — IRELAND IN EXILE APPEARED FOR THE FIRST TIME. HOW plantations" OF FOREIGNERS WERE DE- SIGNED FOR THE colonisation" OF IRELAND, AND THE EXTIRPATION OF THE NATIVE RACE. HAVE narrated at very considerable length >^^^^ the events of that period of Irish history with y^^^ which the name of Hugh O'Neill is identified. I have done so, because that era was one of most peculiar importance to Ireland; and it is greatly necessary for Irishmen to fully S\ understand and appreciate the momentous mean- ing of its results. The war of 1599-1602 was the last struggle of the ancient native rule to sustain itself against the conquerors and the jurisdiction of their civil and religious code. Thenceforth — at least for two hun- dred years subsequently — the wars in Ireland which eventuated in completing the spoliation, ruin, and ex- tinction of the native nobility, were wars in behalf of the English sovereign as the rightful sovereign of Ireland also. Never more in Irish history do we find the authority of the ancient native dynasties set up, recognized, and obeyed. Never more do we find the ancient laws and judicature un- disturbedly prevailing in any portion of the land. With the flight of the northern chieftains all claims of ancient native dynasties to sovereignty of power, rights, or pri- vileges disappeared, never once to re-appear; and the ancient laws and constitution of Ireland, the venerable code that had come down inviolate through the space of fifteen hundred years, vanished totally and for ever! Taking leave, therefore, of the chapter of history to which I have devoted so much space, we bid farewell to Milesian Ireland— Ireland claiming to be ruled by its own native princes, and henceforth have to deal with Ire- land as a kingdom subject to the Scoto-English sovereign. The date at which we have arrived is one most remark- THE STORY OF IRELAND. able in our history in other respects also. If it witnessed the disappearance of Milesian Ireland, it witnessed the first appearance in history of that other Ireland, which from that day to the present has been in so great a degree the hope and the glory of the parent nation — a rainbow set in the tearful sky of its captivity — Ireland in exile! In the beginning of the seventeenth century ^Hhe Irish abroad" are first heard of as a distinct political element. The new power thus born into the world was fated to per- form a great and marvellous part in the designs of Provi- dence. It has endured through the shock of centuries — has outlived the rise and fall of dynasties and states — has grown into gigantic size and shape ; and in the influence it exercises at this moment on the course and policy of England, affords, perhaps, the most remarkable illustra- tion recorded outside Holy Writ, of the inevitability of re- tributive justice. To expel the people of Ireland from their own country, to thrust them out as outcast wanderers and exiles all over the world — to seize their homes and possess their heritage, will be found to have been for cen- turies the policy, the aim, and untiring endeavour of the English government. The scheme which we are about to see King James prosecuting (Munster witnessed its in- auguration in the previous reign) has ever since haunted the English mind; namely, the expulsion of the native Irish race, and the "planting" or "colonizing" of their country by English settlers. The history of the world has no parallel for such a design, pursued so relentlessly through such a great space of time. But God did not more signally preserve His chosen people of the Old Law than He has preserved the Irish nation in captivity and in exile. They have not melted away, as the calculations of their evicters anticipated. They have not become fused or transformed by time or change. They have not perished where all ordinary probabilities threatened to the human race impossibility of existence. Prosperity and adversity in their new homes have alike failed to kill in their hearts the sentiment of nationality, the holy love of Ireland, the resolution of fulfilling their destiny as the Heraclidse of modern history. They preserve to-day, all 844 THE STORY OF IRELAKO. over the world, their individuality as markedly as the chil- dren of Israel did theirs in Babylon or in Egypt. The flight of the earls threw all the hungry adventurers into ecstasies ! Now, at least, there would be plunder. The vultures flapped their wings and whetted their beaks. Prey in abundance was about to be flung them by the royal hand. To help still further the schemes of confisca- lion now being matured in Dublin Castle, Sir Cahir O'Doherty — who had been a queen's man most dutifully 60 far — was skilfully pushed into a revolt which afforded the necessary pretext for adding the entire peninsula of Innishowen to the area of plantation". Ulster was now parcelled out into lots, and divided among court favourites and clamouring undertakers" ; the owners and occupiers, the native inhabitants, being as little regarded as the wild grouse on the hills ! The guilds, or trade companies of London, got a vast share of plunder ; something like one hundred and ten thousand acres of the richest lands of the O'Neills and O'Donnells — lands which the said London companies hold to this day. To encourage and maintain these " plantations", various privileges were conferred upon or offered to the colonists" ; the conditions re- quired of them on the other hand being simply to ex- clude or kill off the owners, to hunt down the native population as they would any other wild game ; and, above all, to banish and keep out " Popery". In fine, they and their "heirs, executors, administrators, and assigns", were to garrison the country — to consider themselves a standing army of occupation in the English Protestant interest. For two hundred years of history we shall find that " colonised" province, and the " colonists" generally, en- dowed, nursed, petted, protected, privileged — the especial care of the English government — whilst the hapless native population were, during the same period, proscribed, " dead in law", forbidden to trade, forbidden to educate, forbid- den to own property ; for each which prohibition, and many besides to a like intent, acts of parliament, with day and date, word and letter", may be cited. So great was the excitement created amongst the needy THE STORY OF IRELAND. 345 f.nd greedy of all classes in England bv the profuse dis- pensations of splendid estates, rich, fertile, and almost at their own doors, that the millions of acres in Ulster were soon all gone; and still there were crowds of hungry ad- venturers yelling for "more, more!'' James soon found a way for providing "more". He constituted a roving commission of inquiry into "defective titles", as he was pleased to phrase it — a peripatetic inquisition on the hunt for spoil. The commissioners soon reported 385,000 acres in Leinster as " discovered", inasmuch as the "titles" were not such as ought (in their judgment) to stand in the way of his majesty's designs. The working of this commission need scarcely be described. Even the histo- rian, Leland, who would have been its apologist if he could, tells us there were not wanting "proofs of the most iniquitous practices, of hardened cruelty, of vile perjury, and scandalous subornation, employed to despoil the un- fortunate proprietor of his inheritance". Old and obsolete claims, we are told, some of them dating as far back as Henry the Second, w^re revived, and advantage was taken of the most trivial flaws and minute informalities. In the midst of his plundering and colonizing James died, 27th March, 1625, and was succeeded by his son, Charles. Bitterly as the Irish Catholics had been undeceived as to James's friendly dispositions, they gave themselves up more warmly than ever to the belief that the young prpce now just come to the throne would afiford them just ice, tolerance, and protection. And here we have to trace a chapter of crudest deceit, fraud, and betrayal of a too confiding people The king and his favotirite ministers secretly encouraged these expectations. Charles needed money sorely, and his Irish representative, Lord Faulk- land, told the Catholic lords that if they would present to his majesty, as a volimtary subsidy, a good round sum of money, he woi>ld grant them certain protections or immu- nities, called "royal graces" in the records of the time. " The more important were those which provided * that recusants should be allowed to practise in the courts of law, and to sue out the livery of their lands on taking an oath of civil allegiance in lieu of the oath of supremacy ; S46 THE STOnY OF IRELANt). that the undertakers in the several plantations should have time allowed them to fulfil the condition of their tenures ; that the claims of the crown should be limited to the last sixty years; and that the inhabitants of Con- naught should be permitted to make a new enrolment of their estates'. The contract was duly ratified by a royal proclamation, in which the concessions were accompanied by a promise that a parliament should be held to confirm them. The first instalment of the money was paid, and the Irish agents returned home, but only to learn that an order had been issued against Hhe Popish regular clergy', and that the royal promise was to be evaded in the most shameful manner. When the Catholics pressed for the fulfilment of the compact, the essential formalities for calling an Irish parliament were found to have been omitted by the officials, and thus the matter fell to the ground for the present".* In other words, the Irish Catholics were royally swin- dled. The miserable Charles pocketed the money, and then pleaded that certain of the graces" were very "un- reasonable". He found that already the mere suspicion of an inclination on his part to arrest the progress of per- secution and plunder, was arousing and inflaming against him the fanatical Calvinistic section of English Protest- antism, while his high-handed assertions of royal prero- gative were daily bringing him into more dangerous con- flict with his English parliament. To complete the com- plications surrounding him, the attempts to force Episco- palian Protestantism on the Calvinistic Scots led to open revolt. A Scottish rebel army| took the field, demand- ing that the attempt to extend Episcopacy into Scotland should be given up, and that Calvinistic Presbyterianism should be acknowledged as the established religion of that kinsfdom. Charles marshalled an army to march against them. The parliament would not vote him sup- * M'Oee. + Often called *' Covenanters", from their demands or articles of confederation in the rebellion being called their * ' solemn league and covenant". tHE STORY OF IRELAND. U7 plies — indeed the now dominant party in parliament sympathised with and encouraged the rebels ; but Charles, raising money as best he could, proceeded northward. Nevertheless, he appears to have recoiled from the idea of spilling the blood of his countrymen for a consideration of spiritual supremacy. He came to an arrangement with the rebel " Covenanters" granting to them the liberty of conscience — nay, religious supremacy — which they de- manded, and even paying their army for a portion of the time it was under service in the rebellion. All this could not fail to attract the deepest attention of the Irish Catholic nobility and gentry, who found themselves in far worse plight than that which had moved the Calvinistic Scots to successful rebellion. Much less indeed than had been conceded to the rebel Cove- nanters would satisfy them They did not demand that the Catholic religion should be set up as the established creed in Ireland; they merely asked that the sword of persecution should not be bared against it ; and for them- selves they sought nothing beyond protection as good citizens in person and property, and simple equality of civil rights. Wentworth, Charles's representative in Ire- land, had been pursuing against them a course of the most scandalous and heartless robbery, pushing on the operations of the commission of inquiry into defective titles. " He commenced the work of p]tinder with Eos- common, and as a preliminary step, directed the sheriff to select such jurors as might be made amenable, ^ in case they should prevaricate' ; or, in other words, they might be ruined by enormous fines, if they refused to find a verdict for the king. The jurors were told that the object of the commission was to find ' a clear and undoubted title in the crown to the province of Connaught', and to make them ' a civil and rich people' by means of a plantation ; for which purpose his majesty should, of course, have the lands in his own hands to distribute to fit and proper persons. Under threats which could not be misunder- stood, the jury found for the king, whereupon Wentworth commended the foreman, Sir Lucas Dillon, to his majesty, that *he might be remembered upon the dividing of the 348 The story of IRELANt). lands', and also obtained a competent reward for the judges. ^ Similar means had a like success in Mayo and Sligo; but when it came to the turn of the more wealthy and populous county of Galway, the jury refused to sanction the nefarious robbery by their verdict. Wentworth was furious at this rebuff, and the unhappy jurors were punished without mercy for their 'contumacy'. They were compelled to appear in the castle chamber, where each of them was fined four thousand pounds, and their estates were seized and they themselves imprisoned until these fines should be paid, while the sheriff was fined four thousand pounds, and being unable to pay that sum died in prison. Wentworth proposed to seize the lands, not only of the jurors, but of all the gentry who neglected * to lay hold on his majesty's grace'; he called for an in- crease of the army * until the intended plantation should be settled', and recommended that the counsel who argued the cases against the king before the commission- ers should be silenced until they took the oath of supre- macy, which was accordingly done. ' The gentlemen of Connaught', says Carte {Life ofOrmond^ vol. i.), * laboured under a particular hardship on this occasion ; for their not having enrolled their patents and surrenders of the 13th Jacobi (which was what alone rendered their titles defective) was not their fault, but the neglect of a clerk entrusted by them. For they had paid near three thou- sand pounds to the oflBcers in Dublin for the enrolment of these surrenders and patents, which was never made'".* Meanwhile, as I have already described, the Scots, whose grievances" were in nowise to be compared with these, had obtained full redress by an armed demonstra- tion. It was not to be expected in the nature of things, that events so suggestive would be thrown away on the spoliated Catholic nobles and gentry of Ireland. Accord- ingly, we find them about this period conferring, con- • Haverty. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 349 federating, or conspiring, on the basis of an Irish and Catholic " solemn league and covenant" — of much more modest pretensions, however, than the Scottish Calvinistic original. Their movement too was still more notably distinguished from that demonstration by the most em- phatic and explicit loyalty to the king, whom indeed they still credited with just and tolerant dispositions, if freed from the restraint of the persecuting Puritan fac- tion. They saw too that the king and the parliament were at utter issue, and judged that by a bold coup they might secure for themselves royal recognition and support, and turn the scale against their bitter foes and the king's. Moreover, by this time the other Irish nation" — "the Irish abroad", had grown to be a power. Already the exiles on the continent possessed ready to hand a con- siderable military force, and a goodly store of money, arms, and ammunition. For they had " not forgotten Je- rusalem", and wherever they served or fought, they never gave up that hope of a good day yet in Ireland'*. The English state-paper office holds several of the letters or reports of the spies retained by the government at this tine to watch their movements; and, singularly enough, these documents describe to us a state of things not unlike that existing at this day, towards the close of the nineteenth century ! — the Irish in exile, organised in the design of returning and liberating their native land, assessing themselves out of their scanty pay for contributions to the general fund!* The Irish abroad had moreover. • Mr. Haverty the historian quotes one of these "reports" which, as he says, was first brought to light in the Nation news- paper of 5th February, 1859, having been copied from the original in the state paper office. It is a hst or return of the names of the ** dangerous" Irish abroad, supphed by one of the English spies. The list begins ^vith Don Richardo Burke, * a man much ex- perienced in martial affairs', and * a good inginiere'. He served many years under the Spaniards in Naples and the West Indies, and was the governor of Leghorn for the Duke of Florence. Next, * Phellomy O'Neill, nephew unto old Tyrone, liveth in great re- spect (in Milan), and is a captain of a troop of horse'. Then come James Rowthe or Eothe, an alfaros or standard-bearer in the Spanish army, and his brother Captain John Kothe, * a pensioner 350 THE STORY OF IRELAD. what greatly enhanced their military influence— Already, they had become honourably known as "bravest of the brave" on the battlefields of Spain, France, and the Netherlands. in Naples, who carried Tyrone out of Ireland*. One Captain Solo- mon Mac Da, a Geraldine, resided at Florence, and Sir Thomas Talbot, a knight of Malta, and * a resolute and well-beloved man*, lived at Naples, in which latter city * there were some other Irish captains and officers'. The list then proceeds. *In Spain Cap- tain Phellomy Cavanagh, son-in-law to Donell Spaniagh, serveth under the king by sea; Captain Somlevayne (O'SuUivan), a man of noted courage. These live commonly at Lisbonne, and are sea- captains. Besides others of the Irish, Captain Driscoll, the younger, sonne to old Captain Driscoll; both men reckoned valou- rous. In the court of Spaine liveth the sonne of Richard Burke, which was nephew untoe William, who died at ValladoHd .... he is in high favour with the king, and (as it is reported) is to be made a marquis; Captain Toby Bourke, a pensioner in the court of Spain, another nephew of the said William, deceased; Captain John Bourke M 'Shane, who served long time in Flanders, and now liveth on his pension assigned on the Groyne. Captain Daniell, a pensioner at Antwerp. In the Low Countries, under the Archduke, John O'Neill, sonne of the arch-traitor Tyrone,, colonel of the Irish regiment. Young O'Donnell, sonne of the late traitorous Earl of Tirconnell. Owen O'Neill (Owen Boe), serjeant-major (equivalent to the present lieutenant-colonel) of the Irish regiment. Captain Art O'Neill, Captain Cormac O'Neill, Captain Donel O'Donel, Captain Thady O'Sullivane, Captain Pres- ton, Captain Fitz Gerrott; old Captain Fitz Gerrott continues ser- jeant-major, now a pensioner; Captain Edmond O'Mor, Captain Bryan O'Kelly, Captain Stanihurst, Captain Corton, Captain Daniell, Captain Walshe. There are diverse other captaines and officers of the Irish under the Archduchess (Isabella), some of whose companies are cast, and they made pensioners. Of these serving under the Archduchess, there are about one hundred able to command companies, and twenty fit to be colonels. Many of them are descended of gentlemen's families and some of noblemen. These Irish soldiers and pensioners doe stay their resolutions until they see whether England makes peace or war with Spaine. If peace, they have practised already with other soveraine princes, from whom they have received hopes of assistance; if war doe ensue, they are confident of greater ayde. They have been long providing of arms for any attempt against Ireland, and had in readiness five or six thousand arms laid up in Antwerp for that purpose, bought out of the deduction of their monthly pay, as will be proved, and it is thought they have doubled that proportio^i by these means' THE STORY OF IRELAND. 351 Communications were at once opened between the exiles and the confederates at home, the chief agent or promoter of the movement being a private gentleman, Mr. Roger O'More, or 0* Moore, a member of the ancient family of that name, chiefs of Leix. With him there soon became associated Lord Maguire, an Irish nobleman who retained a small fragment of the ancient patrimony of his family in Fermanagh; his brother Roger Maguire, Sir Felim O'Neill of Kinnard, Sir Con Magennis, Colonel Hugh Oge Mac Mahon, Very Rev. Heber Mac Mahon, Vicar-General of Clogher, and a number of others. About May, Nial O'Neill arrived in Ireland from the titular Earl of Tyrone (John, son of Hugh O'Neill), in Spain, to inform his friends that he had obtained from Cardinal Richelieu a promise of arms, ammu- nition, and money for Ireland when required, and desir- ing them to hold themselves in readiness. The confede- rates sent back the messenger with information as to their proceedings, and to announce that they would be prepared to rise a few days before or after All-Hallo w- tide, according as opportunity answered. But scarcely was the messenger despatched when news was received that the Earl of Tyrone was killed, and another messen- ger was sent with all speed into the Low Countries to (his cousin) Colonel Owen (Roe) O'Neill, who was the next entitled to be their leader. " In the course of Sep- tember their plans were matured; and, after some changes as to the day, the 23rd of October was finally fixed upon for the rising".* The plan agreed upon by the confederates included four main features. I. A rising after the harvest was gathered in, and a campaign during the winter months. II. A simultaneous attack on one and the same day or night on all the fortresses within reach of their friends. III. To surprise the Castle of Dublin, which was said to contain arms for 12,000 men. . ^< All the details of this project were carried successfully into efi'ect, except the seizure of Dub- Uaverty, 352 THE STOBV OP IRELAND. lin Castle — the most difficult, as it would have been the most decisive blow to strike".* The government, which at this time had a cloud of spies on the Continent watching the exiles, seems to have been in utter ignorance of this vast conspiracy at home, wrapping nearly the entire of three provinces, and which perfected all its arrangements throughout several months of preparation, to the knowledge of thousands of the population, without one traitorous Irishman being found, up to the night fixed for the simul- taneous movement, to disclose the fact of its existence. On the night appointed, without failure or miscarriage at any point, save onej out of all at which simultaneousness of action was designed, the confederate rising was accom- plished. In one night the people had swept out of sight, if not from existence, almost every vestige of English rule throughout three provinces. The forts of Charlemont and Mountjoy, and the town of Dungannon,were seized on the night of the 22nd, by Phelim O'Neill or his lieutenants. On the next day, Sir Connor Magennis took the town of Newry; the M'Mahons possessed themselves of Carrick- macross and Castleblayney ; the O'Hanlons, Tandragee ; while Philip O'Reilly and Roger Maguire raised Cavan and Fermanagh A proclamation of the northern leaders appeared the same day, dated from Dungannon, setting forth their ^Hrue intent and meaning" to be, ''not hostility to his majesty the king, nor to any of his subjects, neither English or Scotch ; but only for the defence and liberty of ourselves and the Irish natives of this kingdom". "A more elaborate manifesto appeared shortly afterwards from the pen of 0' Moore, in which the oppressions of the Catholics for conscience sake were detailed, the king's in- tended graces acknowledged, and their frustration by the malice of the Puritan party exhibited : it also en- deavoured to show that a common danger threatened the Protestants of the Episcopal Church with Roman Catholics, and asserted in the strongest terms the devotion of the Catholics to the crown. In the same politic and tolerant 23 THE STORY OF IRELAND, 855 spirit, Sir Connor Magennis wrote from Newry on the 25th to the officers commanding at Down. 'We are', he wrote, ' for our lives and liberties. We desire no Mood to be shed; but if you mean to shed our blood, be sure we shall be as ready as you for that purpose'. This threat of retaliation, so customary in all wars, was made on the third day of the rising, and refers wholly to future contingencies; the monstrous fictions which were afterwards circulated of a wholesale massacre committed on the 23rd, were not as yet invented, nor does any public document or private letter written in Ireland in the last week of October, or during the first days of November, so much as allude to those tales of bl^od and horror afterwards so industriously circulated and so greedily swallowed".* The one point at which miscarriage occnrred was, nn- fortunately for the conspirators, the chief one in their scheme — Dublin ; and here the escape of the govermnent was narrow and close indeed. On the night fixed for the rising, 23rd October, one of the Irish leaders, Colonel Hugh MacMahon, confided the design to one Owen Con- nolly, whom he thought to be worthy of trust, but who, however, happened to be a follower of Sir John Clot- worthy, one of the most rabid of the Puritanical party. Connolly, who, by the way, was drunk at the time, in- stantly hurried to the private residence of one of the lords justices, and excitedly proclaimed to him that that night the castle was to be seized, as part of a vast simultaneous movement all over the country. Sir W. Parsons, the lord justice, judging the story to be merely the raving of a half-drunken man, was on the point of turning Connolly out of doors, when, fortunately for him, he thought it bet- ter to test the matter. He hurriedly consulted his col- league. Sir John Borlase; they decided to double the guards, shut the city gates, and search the houses wherein, according to Connolly's story, the leaders of the con- spiracy were at that moment awaiting the hour of action. Colonel Mac Mahon was seized at his lodgings, near the * M'Gee. 856 THE STORY OP IRELAND. King's Inns ; Lord Maguire was captured next morning in a house in Cooke Street; but 0' Moore, Plunkett, and Byrne, succeeded in making good their escape out of the city. Mac Mahon, on being put to question before the lords justices in the Castle, boldly ayowed his part in the national movement; nay, proudly gloried in it, telling his questioners, that let them do what they might, their best or their worst, with him, "the rising was now beyond all human power to arrest". While the lords justices looked astounded, haggard, and aghast, Mac Mahon, his face ra- diant with exultation, his form appearing to dilate with proud defiance of the bloody fate he knew to be inevitable for himself, told them to bear him as soon as they pleased to the block, but that already Ireland had burst her chains! Next day, they found to their dismay that this was no empty vaunt. Before forty-eight hours the whole structure of British "colonization" in the North was a wreck. The "plantation" system vanished "like the baseless fabric of a vision"; and while the ship was bearing away to England the gallant Mac Mahon and his hapless colleague. Lord Maguire — that an impotent vengeance might glut itself with their blood upon the scaffold — from all the towers and steeples in the north joy bells were ringing merry peals, and bonfires blazed, proclaiming that the spoliators had been swept away, and that the rightful owners enjoyed their own again ! The people, with the characteristic exuberance of their nature, gave themselves up to the most demonstrative joy and exultation. No words can better enable us to realise the popular feeling at this moment than Mr. Gavan Duffy's celebrated poem, " The Muster of the North": Joy! joy! the day is come at last, the day of hope and pride. And, see ! our crackling bonfires light old Bann's rejoicing tide I And gladsome bell and bugle-horn, from Newry's captured toVrs,. Hark ! how they tell the Saxon swine, this land is ours — is ours ! Glory to God I my eyes have seen the ransomed fields of Doto, My ears have drunk the joyful news Stout Phelim hath his own". Oh ! may they see and hear no more, oh ! may they rot to clay, When they forget to triumph in the conquest of to-day. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 357 Now, now, we '11 teach the shameless Scot to purge his thievish maw, Now, now, the courts may fall to pray, for J ustice is the Law ; Now shall the undertaker square for once his loose accounts. We '11 strike, brave boys, a fair result from all Ms false amounts. Come, trample down their robber rule, and smite its venal spawn, Their foreign laws, their foreign church, their ermine and their lawn, With all the specious fry of fraud that robbed us of our own, And plant our ancient laws agaia beneath our lineal throne. * * * Down from the sacred hills whereon a saint commun'd with God, Up from the vale where Bagnal's blood manured the reeking sod, Out from the stately woods of Truagh, M'Kenna's plundered home, Like Malin's waves, as fierce and fast, our faithful clansmen come. Then, brethren, on I— -O'Neill's dear shade would frown to see you pause — Our banished Hugh, our martyred Hugh, is watching o'er your cause — His generous error lost the land— he deemed the Norman true. Oh ! forward, friends ! it must not lose the land again in you I LIV.— HOW THE LORDS JUSTICES GOT UP THE NEEDFUL BLOODY FURY IN ENGLAND BY A DREADFUL MASSACRE" STORY. HOW THE CONFEDERATION OF KILKENNY CAMB ABOUT. HE Puritanical party, which ever since Went- worth's execution had the government of Ire- land in their hands, began to consider that this desperate condition of their affairs ren- dered some extraordinary resort necessary, if the island was not to slip totally and for ever from their grasp. The situation was evidently one full of peculiar difficulty and embarrass- ment for them. The national confederacy, which by this time had most of the kingdom in its hands, declared ut- most loyalty to the king, and in truth, as time subse- quently showed, meant him more honest and loyal service than those who now surrounded him as ministers and officials. Hence it was more than likely to be extremely difficult 358 THE STORY OF IRELAND. to arouse against the Irish movement that strong and general eflfusion of public feeling in England which would result in vigorous action against it. For obviously enough (so reasoned the Puritanical executive in Dublin Castle) that section of the English nation which supports the king will be inclined to side with this Irish move- ment ; they will call it far more justifiable and far more loyal than that of the rebel Scotch covenanters ; they will counsel negotiation with its leaders, perhaps the concession of their demands ; in any event they will reprehend and prevent any extreme measures against them. In which case, of course, the result must be fatal to the pious pro- ject of robbing the native Irish, and " planting the country with " colonies " of saintly plunderers. In this extremity it was discerned that there was barely one way of averting all these dangers and disas- ters — just one way of preventing any favourable opinion of the Irish movement taking root in England — one sure way for arousing against it such a cry as must render it impossible for even the king himself to resist or refrain from joining in the demand for its suppression at all hazards. This happy idea was to start the story of an "awful, bloody, and altogether tremendous massacre of Protestants." To be sure they knew there had been no massacre — quite the contrary ; but this made little matter. With proper vehemence of assertion, and sufficient construction of circumstantial stories to that effect, no difficulty was apprehended on this score. But the real embarrassment lay in the fact that it was rather late to start the thing. Several days or weeks had elapsed, and several accounts of the rising had been transmitted without any mention of such a proceeding as a " wholesale massacre," which ordinarily should have been the first thing proclaimed with all horror. The Lords Justices and their advisers, who were all most pious men, long and with grave trouble of mind considered this stumbling block ; for it was truly distressing that such a promising project should be thwarted. Eventually they decided to chance the story any way, and trust to extra zeal in the use of horror THE STORY OF IRELAND. 859 narratives, to get up such a bloody fury in England as would render close scrutiny of the facts out of the question.* * Several of our recent historians have gone to great pains, citing original documents, state papers, and letters of Protestant witnesses, to expose the baseness and wickedness of this massacre story ; but at this time of day one might as well occupy himself in gravely demon- strating the villany of Titus Oates's "informations". The great Popish Massacre story has had its day, but it is now dead and gone. The fact that there were excesses committed by the insurgents in a few cases — instantly denounced and punished as violations of the em- phatic orders of their leaders promulgated to the contrary— has nothing to say to this question of massacre. Let it always be said that even one case of lawless violence or life-taking — even one excess of the laws of honourable warfare — is a thing to abomi- nate and deplore ; as the Irish confederate leaders denounced and deplored the cases reported to them of excesses by some of Sir Phelim O'Neill's armed bands. Not only did the Irish leaders vehemently inculcate moderation, but the Protestant chroniclers of the time abundantly testify that those leaders and the Catho- lic clergy went about putting those instructions into practice. Leland, the Protestant historian, declares that the Catholic priests "laboured zealously to moderate the excesses of war", and frequently protected the English where danger threatened them, concealing them in their places of worship and even under their altars! The Protestant Bishop Burnet, in his life of Dr. Bedel, who was titu- lar Protestant Bishop of Dromore at the tune, tells us that Dr. Bedel, with the tumultuous sea of the "rising" foaming around him on all sides in Cavan, enjoyed, both himself and all who sought the shelter of his house, "to a miracle perfect quiet", though he had neither guard nor defence, save the respect and forbearance of the "insurgents". One fact alone, recorded by the Protestant historians themselves, affords eloquent testimony on this point. This bishop Bedel died while the » 'rising" was in full rush around him. He was very ardent as a Protestant; but he refused to join in, and, indeed, reprobated the scandalous robberies and persecutions pursued against the Catholic Irish. The natives - - the insurgents— the CathoUc nobles and peasants— ew masscj attended his funeral, and one of Sir Phelim O'Neill's regiments, with reversed arms, followed the bier. When the grave was closed (says the Protestant historian whom I am quoting), they fired a farewell volley over it, the leaders crying out : *'Bequiescat in pace,ultimus Anglorum!" ("Kest in peace, last of the EngUsh"). Por they had often said that, as he was the best man of the English religion, he ought to be the last I Such was the conduct of the Irish insurgents. In no country, unfortunately, are popular risings unaccompanied by excesses; never in any country, nrobably, did a 360 THE BTORY OF IRELAND. So — albeit long after date — suddenly a terrific outcry arose about the awful massacre" in Ireland ; the great wholesale and simultaneous massacre of Protestants. Hor- rors were piled on horrors, as each succeeding mail brought from the government officials in Dublin fur- ther particulars" of the dreadful massacre which had, they declared, taken pla^ all over Ulster on the night of the rising. Several of the ministers in London were in the secret of this massacre story ; but there is no doubt it was sincerely credited by the bulk of the English people at the time; and, as might be expected, a sort of frenzy seized the populace. A cry arose against the bloody Irish Popish rebels. Everywhere the shout was to stamp them. out". The wisdom and sagacity of the venerable Lord Justices — the pre-eminent merits of their device — were triumphantly attested ! For a time there was a danger that the whole scheme might be spoiled — shaken in public credulity — by the injudicious zeal of some of the furnishers of further par- ticulars", by whom the thing was a little over-done. Some thought twenty thousand would suffice for the number of massacred Protestants; others would go for a hundred thousand ; while the more bold and energetic still stood out for putting it at two or three hundred thousand, though there were not that number of Protestants in all Ireland at the time. As a consequence, there were some most awk- ward contradictions and inconsistencies ; but so great was the fury aroused in England, that happily these little dan- gers passed away smoothly, and King Charles himself joined in the shout against the horrid Popish rebellion 1 The English soldiers in Ireland were exhorted to slay and spare not; additional regiments were quickly sent over — the men maddened by the massacre stories — to join in the work of revenge". And, just as might be expected, people rising against diabolical oppression, sweep away their plun- derers -with so few excesses as did the Irish in 1641. But all this, in any event, has naught to say to such a proceeding as a massacre. That was an afterthought of the lords justices, as has already been shown. THE STOKV^ UF IRELAND. 361 then indeed massacre in earnest appeared upon the scene. The Irish had in the very first hour of their movement— in the very flush of victory — humanely and generously proclaimed that they would seek righteous ends by right- eous means; that they would fight their cause, if fight fchey must, by fair and honourable warfare. They had, with exceptions so rare as truly to prove the rule", ex- hibited marvellous forbearance and magnanimity. But now the English Puritan soldiery, infuriated to the fier- cest pitch, were set upon them, and atrocities that sicken the heart to contemplate made the land reek from shore to shore. The Covenanters of Scotland also, who had just previously secured by rebellion all they demanded for themselves, were filled with a holy desire to bear a part in the pious work of stamping out the Irish Popish rebellion. King Charles, who was at the time in Edinburgh endeavouring to conciliate the Scottish parliament, was quite ready to gratify them ; and accordingly a force of some two thousand Scots were despatched across the channel, landing at Antrim, where they were reinforced by a recruitment from the remnant of the "colonies" planted by James the First. It was this force which in- augurated what may be called massacres". Before their arrival the Puritan commanders in the south had, it is true, left no atrocity untried; but the Scots went at the work wholesale. They drove all the native popula- tion of one vast district — (or rather all the aged and in- firm, the women and ^ children; for the adult males were away serving in the confederate armies) — into a promon- tory, almost an island, on the coast, called Island Magee. Here, when the helpless crowd were hemmed in, the Scots fell upon them sword in hand, and drove them over the clifi*s into the sea, or butchered them to the last, ir- respective of age or sex. " From this day forward until the accession of Owen Eoe O'Neill to the command, the northern war assumed a ferocity of character foreign to the nature of O'Moore, O'Kclly, and Magennis". Horrors and barbarities on each side made humanity shudder, The confederate leaders had proposed, hoped for, and od their parts had done everything to insure the conducting of 862 T.HE STORY OF IRELAND. the war according to the usages of fair and honourable warfare. The government, on the other hand, so far from reciprocating this spirit, in all their proclamations breathed savage and merciless fury against the Irish; and every exhortation of their commanders (in strange contrast with the humane and honourable manifestoes of the confederates) called upon the soldiery to glut their swords and spare neither young nor old, child or woman. The conduct of the government armies soon widened the area of revolt. So far the native Irish alone, or almost exclusively, had participated in it, the Anglo- Irish Catholic Lords and Pale gentry holding aloof. But these latter could not fail to see that the Puritan faction, which now constituted the local government, were re- solved not to spare Catholics whether of Celtic or Anglo- Irish race, and were moreover bent on strengthening their own hands to league with the English parliament- arians against the king. Loyalty to the king, and consi- derations for their own safety, alike counselled them to take some decisive step. Everything rendered hesitation more perilous. Although they had in no way encouraged, or, so far, sympathised with, the northern rising, their possessions were ravaged by the Puritan armies. Fingal, Santry, and Swords — districts in profound peace — were the scenes of bloody excesses on the part of the govern- ment soldiery. The Anglo-Irish Catholic nobility and gentry of these districts in vain remonstrated. They drew up a memorial to the throne, and forwarded it by one of their number, Sir John Kead. He was in- gtantly seized, imprisoned, and put to the rack in Dublin Castle ; " one of the questions which he was pressed to answer being whether the king and queen were privy to the Irish rebellion". In fine the English or Anglo-Irish Catholic families of the Pale for the first time in history began to feel that with the native Irish, between whom and them hitherto so wide a gulph had yawned, their side must be taken. After some negotiation between them and the Irish leaders, ''on the invitation of Lord Gormanstown a meeting of Catholic noblemen and gentry was held on the hill of Crofty, in Meath, Among those THE STORY OF IRELAND. 863 who attended were the Earl of Fingal, Lords Gormans- town, Slane, Louth, Dunsany, Trimleston, and Netter- ville; Sir Patrick Barnwell, Sir Christopher Bellew, Patrick Barnwell of Kilbrew, Nicholas Darcy of Piatt en, James Bath, Gerald Aylmer, Cusack of Gormanstown, Malone of Lismullen, Segrave of Kileglan, etc. After being there a few hours a party of armed men on horse- back, with a guard of musketeers, were seen to approach. The former were the insurgent leaders, Koger O'More, Philip O'Keilly, Mac Mahon, Captains Byrne and Fox, etc. The lords and gentry rode towards them, and Lord Gormanstown as spokesman demanded, 'for what reason they came armed into the Pale?' O'More answered, * that the ground of their coming thither and taking up arms, was for the freedom and liberty of their consciences, the maintenance of his majesty's prerogative, in which they understood he was abridged, and the making the subjects of this kingdom as free as those of England'".* **The leaders then embraced amid the acclamations of their followers, and the general conditions of their union having been unanimously agreed upon, a warrant was drawn out authorising the Sheriff of Meath to summon the gentry of the county to a final meeting at the Hill of Tara on the 24th December".! Prom this meeting sprang the Irish Confederation oi 1642, formally and solemnly inaugurated three months subsequently at Kilkenny. • Haverty t M Gi«. 364 THE STORY OF IRELAND. LV. SOMETHING ABOUT THE CONFLICTINO ELEMENTS OF THE CIVIL WAR IN 1 642-9. HOW THE CONFEDERATE CATHOLICS MADE GOOD THEIR POSITION, AND ESTABLISHED A NATIONAL GOVERNMENT IN IRELAND. ^ j_ E W chapters of Irish history are more import- ant, none have been more momentous in their "is^^^B results, than that which chronicles the career of CSSfi Confederation of 1642. But it is of all, '^^^B the most intricate and involved, and the most difficult to summarise with fitting brevity and clearness for young readers. In that struggle there were not two but at least four or Jive dis- tinct parties, with distinct, separate, and to a greater or lesser degree conflicting, interests and views ; partially and momentarily combining, shifting positions, and changing alliances ; so that the conflict as it proceeded was, in its character and component parts, truly "chameleonic". As for the unfortunate king, if he was greatly to be blamed, he was also greatly to be pitied. He was not a man of passion, malice, or injustice. He was mild, kindly, and justly disposed ; but weak, vacillating, and self-willed ; and, under the pressure of necessity and danger, his weak- ness degenerated into miserable duplicity at times. In the storm gathering against him in England, his enemies found great advantage in accusing him of "Popish lean- ings", and insinuating that he was secretly authorising and encouraging the Irish Popish rebels — the same who had just massacred all the Protestants that were and were not in the newly planted province of Ulster. To rid him- self of this suspicion, Charles went into the extreme of anxiety to crush those hated Irish Papists. He denounced them in proclamations and applied to parliament for leave to cross over and head an army against them him- self. The parliament replied, by maliciously insinuating a belief that his real object was to get to the head of the Irish Popish rebellion, which (they would have it) he only hypocritically affected to denounce. THE STORY OP IRELAKD. The newly-settled Anglo-Irish Protestants became from the outset of this struggle bitter Puritans ; the old fami- lies of the Pale mostly remaining royalists. The former sided with the parliamentarians and against the king, because they mistrusted his declarations of intolerance against the Catholics, and secretly feared he would allow them to live and hold possession of lands in Ireland ; in which case there would be no plunder, no " plantations". The Covenanting Scots — the classes from whom in James's reign the Ulster colonists had largely been drawn, had just the same cause of quarrel against the Irish, whom the English parliamentarians hated with a fierceness for which there could be no parallel. This latter party combined religious fanaticism with revolutionary passion, and to one and the other the Irish were intolerably obnoxious; to the one, because they were Papists, idolaters, followers of Antichrist, whom to slay was work good and holy; to the other, because they had sided with the tyrant" Charles. The Catholic prelates and clergy could not be expected to look on idly while a fierce struggle in defence of the Catholic religion, and in sustainment of the sovereign against rebellious foes, was raging in the land. In such a war they could not be neutral. A provincial synod was held at Kells, 22nd March, 1642, whereat, after full examination and deliberation, the cause of the confe- derates — '^God and the King", freedom of worship and loyalty to the sovereign — was declared just and holy. The assembled prelates issued an address vehemently denouncing excesses or severities of any kind, and finally took steps to convoke a national synod at Kilkenny on the 10th of May following. On that day accordingly (10th of May, 1643), the national synod met in the city of St. Canice. "The occasion was most solemn, and the proceedings were cha« racterised by calm dignity and an enlightened tone. An oath of association, which all Catholics throughout the land were enjoined to take, was framed; and those who were bound together by this solemn tie were called the * Confederate Catholics of Ireland'. A manifesto explana- 366 THE STORY OF IRELAND. tory of their motives, and containing rules to guide the confederation, and an admirable plan of provisional government, was issued. It was ordained that a general assembly, comprising all the lords spiritual and temporal, and the gentry of their party, should be held ; and that the assembly should select members from its body, to re- present the different provinces and principal cities, and to be called the Supreme Council, which should sit from day to day, dispense justice, appoint to offices, and carry on as it were the executive gcwremmeut of the country. Severe penalties were pronounced against all who made the war an excuse for the commission of crime ; and after three days' sittings this important conference brought its labours to a close".* " The national synod did not break up till about the end of May, and long before that period the proclamations issued by the prelates and lay-lords, calling on the people to take the oath of association, had the happiest results. Agents from the synod crossed over into France, Spain, and Italy, to solicit support and sympathy from the Catholic princes. Father Luke Wadding was indefatigably employed col- lecting moneys and inciting the Irish officers serving in the continental armies to return and give their services to their own land. Lord Mountgarret was appointed president of the council, and the October following was fixed for a general assembly of the whole kingdom' \f On the 23rd October following the general assembly thus convoked, assembled in Kilkenny,* " eleven bishops and fourteen lay lords represented the Irish peerage ; two hundred and twenty-six commoners, the large majority of the constituencies. The celebrated lawyer Patrick Darcy, a member of the commons house, was chosen asjchancellor, and everything was conducted with the gravity and deli- beration befitting so venerable an assembly and so great an occasion". A Supreme Council of six members for each province was elected. The archbishops of Armagh, Dublin, and Tuam, the bishops of Down and of Clonfert, Lord Gormanstown, Lord Mountgarret, Lord Roche, and Haverty. t Rev. C. P Meehan's Conjed. Kilkenny THE STORY OF IRELAND. 367 Lord Mayo, with fifteen of tlie most eminent commoners, composed this council. Such was the national government and legislature under which Ireland fought a formidable struggle for three years. It was loyally obeyed and served throughout the land; in fact it was the only sovereign ruling power recognized at all outside of two or three walled cities for the greater part of that time. Tt undertook all the functions properly appertaining to its high office; coined money at a national mint ; appointed judges who went cir- cuit and held assizes ; sent ambassadors or agents abroad, and commissioned officers to the national armies — amongst the latter being Owen Koe O'Neill, who had landed at Doe Castle in Donegal in July of that year, and now formally assumed command of the army of Ulster, ®feen got #'S«U. From A portrait in Flanders, painted from life. While that governing body held together, unrent by treason or division, the Irish nation was able to hold its crowding foes at bay, and was in fact practically free. 868 THE STORY OF IRELAND. LVI. HOW KING CHARLES OPENED NEGOTIATIONS WITH THE CONFEDERATE COUNCIL. HOW THE ANGLO-IRISH PARTY WOULD " HAVE PEACE AT ANY PRICE*', AND THE " NATIVE IRISH" PARTY STOOD OUT FOR PEACE WITH HONOUR. HOW POPE INNOCENT THE TENTH SENT AN ENVOY NOT empty-handed" — TO AID THE IRISH CAUSE. V, ->fa HE very power of the confederates", says one historians, "now became the root of ^^^^ their misfortunes. It led the king to desire to "^t^fe ^^^^ terms with them, not from any intention ■^^^^ to do them justice, but with the hope of de- -^^t riving assistance from them in his difficulties ; -^^^ and it exposed them to all those assaults of diplomatic craft, and that policy of fomenting internal division, which ultimately proved their ruin". The mere idea of the king desiring to treat with them, unsettled the whole body of the Anglo-Irish lords and nobles. They would have peace with the king on almost any terms — they would trust everything to him. The old Irish, the native or national party, on the other hand, were for holding firmly by the power that had caused the king to value and respect them ; yielding in nowise unless the demands specifically laid down in the articles of confe- deration were efficiently secured. On this fatal issue the supreme council and the confederation were surely split from the first hour. Two parties were on the instant created — two bitter factions they became — the "peace party" or " Ormondists"; and the " national party", sub- sequently designated the " Nuncionist", from the circum- stance of the Papal nuncio being its firmest supporter, if not its leader. The first negotiations were conducted on the royal side by a plenipotentiary whom the Anglo-Irish lords not only regarded as a friend of the king, but knew to be as much opposed as they were themselves to the rebel Puritans — the Marquis of Ormond, a man of profound ability, of winning manners, and deeply skilled in diplomacy. To induce the THE STORY OF IRELAN1>. 869 confederates to lay down their arms, to abandon their vantage ground in Ireland, and send their troops across to Scotland or England to fight for Charles, was his great aim. In return he would offer little more than ** trust to the king, when he shall have put his enemies down". Id the very first negotiation the compromise party prevailed. On the 15th September, 1643, a cessation of arms was signed in Ormond's tent at Sigginstown, near Naas. In this the confederates were completely outwitted. They kept the truce ; but they found Ormond either unable or unwilling to compel to obedience of its provisions the Puritan government generals, foremost amongst whom in savagery were Munroe in the north, leader of the cove- nanting Scotch army, and Morrough O'Brien, Lord Inchi- quin (son-in-law of Sentleger, lord president of Munster), in the south. Meanwhile Ormond, as we are told, amused the confederates with negociations for a permanent peace and settlement from spring till midsummer"; time work- ing all against the confederates, inasmuch as internal division was widening every day. It turned out that the marquis, whose prejudices against the Catholics were stronger than his loyalty to the waning fortunes of the king, was deceiving both parties ; for while he was skil- fully procrastinating and baffling any decisive action, Charles was really importuning him to hasten the peace, and come to terms with the Irish, whose aid was every day becoming more necessary. At this stage, the king privately sent over Lord Glamorgan to conclude a secret treaty with the confederates. Lords Mountgarret and Muskerry met the royal commissioner on the part of the confederation, and the terms of a treaty fully acceptable were duly agreed upon. I. The Catholics of Ireland were to enjoy the free and public exercise of their religion. II. They were to hold and have secured for their use all the Catholic churches not then in actual possession of the Protestants. III. They were to be exempt from the juris- diction of the Protestant clergy. IV. The confederates (as the price of being allowed to hold their own churches and to worship in their own faith) were to send 10,000 men fully armed to the relief of Chester and the general 24 870 THE STORY OP IRBLANI). succour of the king. Lastly, on the king's part it was stipulated that this treaty should be kept secret while his troubles with English malcontents were pending. The pretence was that Ormond (by this time lord lieutenant) knew nothing of this secret negotiation; but he and Gla- morgan and the king understood each other well. On his way to Kilkenny the royal agent called upon and had a long sitting with Ormond ; and from Kilkenny, Glamor- gan and the confederate plenipotentiaries went to Dublin, where, during several private interviews, the lord lieute- nant argued over all the points of the treaty with them. He evidently thought the 10,000 men might be had of the confederates for less concessions. Meanwhile Charles's fortunes were in the balance. Orniond was well-disposed to serve the king, but not at the risk of danger to himself. After having fully reasoned over all the points of the treaty for several days with Glamorgan and the con- federate lords, suddenly, one afternoon, Ormond arrested Glamorgan with every show of excitement and panic, and flung him into prison on a charge of high treason, in having improperly treated in the king's name with the confederates ! A tremendous sensation was created in Dublin by the event ; Ormond feigning that only by acci- dent that day had Glamorgan's conduct been discovered ! The meaning of all this was, that on the person of the arch- bishop of Tuam, who had been killed a few days previously, bravely fighting against some of the marauding murderers in the west, there was found a copy of the treaty, which thus became public. Ormond saw that as the affair was prematurely disclosed, he must needs affect surprise and indignation at, and disavow it. Of course Glamorgan was softly whispered to lie still, if he would save the king, and offer no [contradiction of the viceregal falsehoods. With which Glamorgan duly complied. The duped con- federates were to bear all the odium and discomfiture I It was during the Glamorgan negotiation — towards its close — that there arrived in Kilkenny a man whose name is indelibly written on the history of this period, and is deeply engraved in Irish memory — John Baptist Rinuc- cini, archbishop of Fermo, in the marches of Ancona, THE STORY OF IRELAND. 871 chosen by the new pope, Innocent the Tenth, as nuncio to the confederated Catholics of Ireland. As the pope, from the first hour when the Irish were driven into a war in defence of religion, never sent an envoy empty-handed, Rinuccini brought with him, purchased by moneys contri- buted by the Holy Father, besides 36,000 dollars for- warded by Father Luke Wadding, " 2,000 muskets, 2,000 cartouche belts, 4,000 swords, 2,000 pike-heads, 400 brace of pistols, 20,000 pounds of powder, with match, shot, and other stores". He landed from his frigate, the San Pietro, at Ardtully, in Kenmare Bay. He then pro- ceeded by way of Kilgarvan to Macroom, whither the supreme council sent some troops of cavalry to meet him as a guard of honour. Thence by way of Kilmallock and Limerick, as rapidly as his feeble health admitted — (he had to be borne on a litter or palanquin) — he proceeded to Kilkenny, now practically the capital of the kingdom — the seat of the national government — where there awaited him a reception such as a monarch might envy. It was Catholic Ireland's salutation to the royal pope''. That memorable scene is described for us as follows by a writer to whom we owe the only succinct account which we possess in the English language of the great events of the period now before us : " At a short distance from the gate, he descended from the litter, and having put on the cope and pontifical hat, the insignia of his office, he mounted a horse caparisoned for the occasion. The secu- lar and regular clergy had assembled in the church of St. Patrick, close by the gate, and when it was announced that the nuncio was in readiness, they advanced into the city in processional array, preceded by the standard-bearers of their respective orders. Under the old arch, called St. Patrick's gate, he was met by the vicar-general of the diocese of Ossory, and the magistrates of the city and county, who joined in the procession. The streets were lined by regiments of infantry, and the bells of the Black Abbey and the church of St. Francis pealed a gladsome chime. The procession then moved on till it ascended the gentle eminence on which the splendid old fane, sacred to St. Canice, is erected. At the grand entrance he was 872 THE STORY OF IRELAND. received by the venerable bishop of Ossory, whose feeble- ness prevented his walking in procession. After mutual salutations, the bishop handed him the aspersorium and incense, and then both entered the cathedral, which, even in the palmiest days of Catholicity, had never held within its precincts a more solemn or gorgeous assemblage. The nuncio ascended the steps of the grand altar, intonated the Te Deum, which was caught up by a thousand voices, till crypt and chancel resounded with the psalmody, and when it ceased, he pronounced a blessing on the immense multi- tude which crowded the aisles and nave. . . . These ceremonies concluded, he retired for a while to the resi- dence prepared for him in the city, and shortly afterwards was waited on by General Preston and Lord Muskerry, He then proceeded on foot to visit Lord Mountgarret, the president of the assembly. The reception took place in the castle. At the foot of the grand staircase he was met by Thomas Fleming, archbishop of Dublin, and Walsh, arch- bishop of Cashel. At the end of the great gallery, Lord Mountgarret was seated, waiting his arrival, and when the nuncio approached, he got up from his chair, without moving a single inch in advance. The seat designed for Rinuccini was of damask and gold, with a little more or- nament than that occupied by the president. . . The nuncio immediately addressed the president in Latin, and declared that the object of his mission was to sustain the king, then so perilously circumstanced ; but, above all, to rescue from pains and penalties the people of Ireland, and to assist them in securing the free and public exercise of the Catholic religion, and the restoration of the churches and church property of which fraud and violence had so long deprived their rightful inheritors".* From the very first the nuncio discerned the pernicious workings of the " compromise" idea in paralysing the power of the confederacy ; and perceiving all its bitter mischief, he seems to have had little patience with it. He saw that the old English of the Pale were more than anxious ♦ Rev. C V Meehaii's Confederation of Kilkenny. f HE STORY OF IRELAND. 873 for a compromise, and to this end would allow the astute Ormond to fool them to the last, to the utter ruin of the confederate cause. They were, however, the majority, and eventually, on the 28th of March, 1646, concluded with Ormond a treaty of peace which was a modification of Glamorgan's original propositions. On the character and merits of this treaty turns one of the most injurious and mournful controversies that ever agitated Ireland. "A basra peace'* the populace called it when made public ; but it might have been a wise one for all that. In the denunciations put forward against it by all who followed the nuncio's views, full justice has not been done this memorable pact. It con- tained one patent and fatal defect — it failed to make such express and adequate stipulations for the security of the Catholic religion as the oath of Confederation demanded. Failing this, it was substantially a good treaty under aK the circumstances. It secured (as far as a treaty with a double-dealing and now virtually discrowned king might be held to secure anything) all, or nearly all, that the Irish Catholics expected then, or have since demanded. There can be no doubt that the majority of the supreme council honestly judged it the best peace attainable, nay wondrously advantageous, all things considered; and judging so, it is not to be marvelled at that they bitterly complained of and inveighed against the nuncio and the party following him, as mad and culpable " extremists", who would lose all by unreasonably grasping at too much. But the nuncio and the ^' native" party argued, that if the confederates were but true to themselves, they would not need to be false to their oaths — that they had it in their power by vigorous and patriotic effort to win equality and freedom, not merely tolerance. Above all, Kinuccini pointed out that dealing with men like Charles the king and Ormond the viceroy, circumstanced as the royalist cause then was, the confederates were utterly without security. They were selling their whole power and position for the " promise to pay" of a bankrupt. 374 THE STORY OF IRELAND. I VII. — HOW THE NUNCIO FREED AND ARMED THE HAND OF OWEN ROE, AND BADE HIM STRIKE AT LEAST ONE WORTHY BLOW FOR GOD AND IRELAND. HOW GLORIOUSLY OWEN STRUCK THAT BLOW AT BEINBURB. ^ T was even so. Two ^ months afterwards, ^WBMKS^S&T'^mjV j "^^^df ^^^^ Charles, ( M^ ^wR lMI^Ifi&i ^^hK ^ powerless, £[ed from the dangers en- vironing him in Eng- land, and took refuge with the Scottish par- liament. Meanwhile the Scot- tish covenanting marauders ^^F^HF^I^A Ulster had been wasting W\ ^9^^^^^^:===^^f?^.(k the land unchecked since the fatal " truce" and peace negotiations'* had tied up the hands of the confederates. The nuncio had early discerned the supreme abilities of Owen Koe O'Neill (the favourite general of the national party, or "old Irish faction" in the council), and now he resolved to strike a blow which might show the country what was THE STORY OF IRELAND. 375 possible to brave men resolved to conquer or die. He sent northward to O'Neill the greater part of the supplies which he had brought with from abroad, and told the Ulster com- mander that on him it now lay to open the eyes alike of Puritan rebels, English loyalists, and half-hearted con- federates. O'Neill was not slow to respond to this summons. For three long years, like a chained eagle, he had pined in weary idleness, ignoble " truces" fettering him. At last he was free ; and low he resolved to show weak friend and arro- gant foe how he who had defended Arras, could strike for God and liberty at home. With the Qrst days of June he was on the march from his late "trme" station on the borders of Leinster, at the head of five thousand foot and four hundred horse, to attack Monroe. " Tie Scottish general received timely notice of this movement, and setting out with six thousand infantry and eight huncred horse, encamped about ten miles from Armagh. Hisarmy was thus considerably superior to that of O'Neill in pdnt of numbers, as it must also have been in equipments; yet he sent word to his brother, Colonel George Monroe, to hasten from Coleraine to reinforce him with his cavalry He appointed Glasslough, in the south of Monaghan, as their rendezvous; but the march of the Irish was quicke* than he expected, and he learned on the 4th of June that O'Neill had not only reached that point, but had crossed tie Blackwater into Tyrone, and encamped at Benburb. O'Ndll drew up his army between two small hills, protected ii the rear by a wood, with the river Blackwater on his right and a bog on his left, and occu- pied some brushwood in front with musketeers, so that his position was admiably selected. He was well informed of Monroe's plans, aid despatched two regiments to prevent the junction of Coonel George Monroe's forces with those of his brother. Fiiding that the Irish were in possession of the ford at Benbu-b, Monroe crossed the river at Kinard, a considerable distaice in O'Neill's rear, and then by a cir- cuitous march appriached him in front from the east and south. The manne. in which the 5th of June was passed in the Irish camp ivas singularly solemn. ' The whole 376 THE STORY OF IRELAND. army', says Rinuccini, * having confessed, and the general, with the other officers, having received the holy com- munion with the greatest piety, made a profession of faith, and the chaplain deputed by the nuncio for the spiritual care of the army, after a brief exhortation, gave them his blessing. On the other hand the Scots were inflamed with fierce animosity against their foe, and an ardent desire for battle' " * "As they advanced", says another writer, "ihey were met by Colonel Eichard O'Ferral, who occupied a narrow defile through which it was necessary for the Scotch troops to pass in order to face the Irish. The fire of Moiroe's guns, however, compelled O'Neill's officer to retire". Lieutenant- Colonel Cunningham having thus cleared th( pass for the Scotch horse, who were commanded by the Lord Viscount of Ardes, in the absence of Colonel Monree; the whole army advanced to dislodge Owen Roe; bu' a shower of bullets from the * scrogs and bushes', vhich covered O'Neill's infantry, checked him; and then ;he Scotch can- non opened its fire with little effect ; as, owhg to the admi- rable position of the Catholic troops, onl; one man was struck by the shot. In vain did Monroe'scavalry charge ; with the river on their right and ^ a mansh bog' on the left, it was hopeless to think of stirring tie confederates. For four hours did the Fabius of his comtry amuse the enemy with skirmishing. During all tbit time the wind rolling the smoke of Monroe's musketry md cannon in the face of the Irish ranks, concealed the ad/'erse ranks from their sight, and the sun had shone all cay in their eyes, blinding them with its dazzling glare ; iut that sun was now descending, and producing the sane effect on the Scotch, when Monroe perceived the eitire of the Irish army making ready for a general assailt with horse and foot. " It was the decisive moment. The Irsh general, throw- ing himself into the midst of his men, .nd pointing out to them that retreat must be fatal to tie enemy, ordered * Haverty. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 377 them to pursue vigorously, assuring them of victory. * I myself, said he, ' with the aid of heaven, will lead the way ; let those who fail to follow me remember that they abandon their genera? This address was received with one unanimous shout by the army. The colonels threw themselves from their horses, to cut themselves off from every chance of retreat, and * charged with incredible impetuosity'. " Monroe had given orders to a squadron of horse to break through the columns of the Irish foot as they ad- vanced; but that squadron became panic-stricken, and retreated disorderly through their own foot, pursued by O'Neiirs cavalry. Nevertheless, Monroe's infantry stood firm, and received the Irish, body to body, with push of pike, till at last the cavalry reserve, being routed in a second charge, fell pell mell amongst his infantry, which, being now broken and disordered, had no way to retreat but over the river which lay in their front". "The Scots now fled to the river", says another his- torian; "but O'Neill held possession of the ford, and the flying masses were driven into the deep water, where such numbers perished that tradition says, one might have crossed over dry-shod on the bodies. Monroe himself fled so precipitately that his hat, sword, and cloak, were among the spoils, and he halted not till he reached Lisburn. Lord Montgomery was taken prisoner, with twenty-one officers and about one hundred and fifty soldiers ; and over three thousand of the Scots were left on the field besides those killed in the pursuit, which was resumed next morn- ing. All the Scotch artillery, tents, and provisions, with a vast quantity of arms and ammunition, and thirty-two colours, fell into the hands of the Irish, who, on their side, had only seventy men killed and two hundred wounded". Father Hartigan, one of the army chaplains, was sent to bear the glad news of this victory to the nuncio at Limerick, taking with him the trophies captured from the ♦ Rev. C. P. Meehan's Confederation of Kilkenny. 378 THE STORY OF IRELAKD. enemy. He arrived on Saturday, 13tli June, and his tidings flung tlie queen city of the Shannon into ecsta- sies of jubilation. On the following day (Sunday) at four o'clock, p.m., all the troops in garrison at Limerick assembled before the church of St. Francis, where the nuncio had deposited thirty-two standards taken by the Irish general from the Scotch. These trophies were then borne in solemn procession by the chiefs of the nobility, followed by the nuncio, the archbishop of Cashel, and the bishops of Limerick, Clonfert, and Ardfert. After these came the supreme council, the mayor and the magistrates, with the entire population of the city. The procession moved on till it reached St. Mary's cathedral, where the Te Deum was chanted, and on the next day a mass of thanksgiving was offered to the Lord, *who fought among the valiant ones, and overthrew the nations that were assembled against them to destroy the sarctuary' Mr. Aubrey de Vere, who is never truer poet, never more nobly inspired, than when the victory of an O'Neill is to be sung, gives us the following splendid chant of Beinburb : At midnight I gazed on the moonless skies ; There gHsten'd, 'mid other star blazonries, A sword all stars ; then heaven, I knew, Hath holy work for a sword to do. Be true, ye clansmen of Nial ! Be true ! At morning I look'd as the sun uprose On the fair hills of Antrim, late white with snows j Was it morning only that dyed them red? Martyr'd hosts methought had bled On their sanguine ridges for years not few I Ye clansmen of Conn, this day be true I There is felt once more on the earth The step of a kingly man : Like a dead man hidden he lay from his birth Exiled from his country and clan. This day his standard he flingeth forth; He tramples the bond and ban : Let them look in his face that usurp'd his hearth j Let them vanquish him, they who canl lAE STORY OF IRELAND. 379 Owen Roe, our own O'Neill ! He treads once more our land 1 ^he sword in his hand is of Spanish steel ! But the hand is an Irish hand I Montgomery, Conway ! base-born crew I This day ye shall learn an old lesson anew ! Thou art red with sunset this hour, Blackwater ; But twice ere now thou wert red with slaughter I Another O'Neill by the ford they met ; And " the bloody loaming" men name it yet ! Owen Roe, our own O'Neill — He treads once more our land I The sword in his hand is of Spanish steel, But the hand is an Irish hand ! The storm of battle rings out ! On ! on ! Shine well in their faces, thou setting sun ! The smoke grows crimson : from left to right Swift flashes the spleenful and racing light ; The horses stretched forward with belly to ground : On ! on ! like a lake which has burst its bound. Through the clangour of brands rolls the laughter of cannott ; Wind-borne it shall reach thine old walls, Dungannon. Our widow'd cathedrals an ancient strain To-morrow triumphant shall chaunt again. On ! on ! This night on thy banks, Lough Neagh, Men born in bondage shall couch them free. On, warriors, launch'd by a warrior's hand ! Four years ye were leash'd in a brazen band ; He counted your bones, and he meted your might, This hour he dashes you into the fight ! Strong Sun of the Battle ! — great chief, whose eye Wherever it gazes makes victory — This hour thou shalt see them do or diel! Owen Roe, our own O'Neill — He treads once more our land ! The sword in his hand is of Spanish steel, But the hand is an Irish hand ! Through the duat and the mist of the golden West, New hosts draw nigh : — is it friend or foe ? They come I They are ours ! Like a cloud their vanguard lours 1 No help from thy brother this day, Monro I 380 THE STORY OF IRELAND. They form: there stand they one moment, still— Now, now they charge under banner and sign : They breast, unbroken, the slope of the hill : It breaks before them, the invader's line ! Their horse and their foot are crushed together Like harbour-locked ships in the winter weather, Each dash'd upon each, the churn'd wave strewing With wreck upon wreck, and ruin on ruin. The spine of their battle gave way with a yell : Down drop their standards ! that cry was their knell 1 Some on the bank, and some in the river, Struggling they lie that shall rally never. 'T was God fought for us ! with hands of might From on high He kneaded and shaped the fight. To Him be the praise.; what He wills miwt oe : With Him is the future : for blind are we. Let Ormond at will make terms or refuse them ; Let Charles the confederates win or lose them ; Uplift the old faith, and annul the old strife, Or cheat us, and forfeit his kingdom and life ; Come hereafter what must or may, Ulster, thy cause is avenged to day I What fraud took from us and force, the sword That strikes in daylight makes ours restored. Owen Roe, our own O'Neill — He treads once more our land ! The sword in his hand is of Spanish steel, But the hand is an ^rish hand ! LVIII. — HOW THE KING DISAVOWED THE TREATY, AND THE IRISH REPUDIATED IT. HOW THE COUNCIL BY A WORSE BLUNDER CLASPED HANDS WITH A SACRILEGIOUS MUR- DERER, AND INCURRED EXCOMMUNICATION. HOW AT LENGTH THE ROYALISTS AND CONFEDERATES CONCLUDED AN HONOURABLE PEACE. LATED by this great victory, that party in the confederation of which O'Neill was the military favourite, and the nuncio the head, now became outspoken and vehement in their denunciations of the temporisers. And opportunely for them came the news from England that the miserable Charles, on finding that his commission to Gla- morgan had been discovered, repudiated and denied the whole transaction, notwithstanding the formal THE STOBY OF IRELAND. 381 commission duly signed and sealed by him, exhibited to the confederate council by his envoy ! Ormond, never- theless, as strongly exhorted the peace party" to hold firm, and to consider for the hard position of the king, which compelled him to prevaricate! But the popular spirit was aroused, and Rinuccini, finding the tide with him, acted with a high hand against the " Onnondists", treating them as malcontents, even arresting and imprison- ing them as half-traitors, whereas, howsoever wrong their judgment and halting their action, they were the (majority of the) lawfully elected government of the confederation. New elections were ordered throughout the country for a new general assembly, which accordingly met at Kil- kenny, 10th January, 1647. This body by an overwhelm- ing majority condemned the peace as invalid ah initio^ in- asmuch as it notably fell short of the oath of federation ; but the conduct of the commissioners and majority of the council was generously, and indeed justly, declared to have been animated by good faith and right intentions. The feuds, however, were but superficially healed ; discord and suspicion caused the confederate generals, according as they belonged to the conflicting parties — the Pale English" or the " native Irish" — to fear each other as much as the Puritan enemy. Meanwhile an Irish Attila was drenching Munster in blood — Morrough O'Brien, Lord Inchiquin, called to this day in popular traditions Morrough of the Burnings", from the fact that the fir- mament over his line of march was usually blackened by the smoke of his burnings ^nd devastations.* One mon- * This dreadful man was one of the first and bitterest fruits o the " Court of Wards" "scheme, which in the previous reign was appointed for the purpose of seizing the iofant children of the Cathohc nobihty, and bringing them up in hatred and horror of the faith of their fathers. O'Brien had been thus seized when a child, and thus brought up by the " Court of Wards"— to what purpose has just been illustrated. It would hardly be fair to the English to say such a scheme had no parallel ; for liistory records that ihe Turks used to seize the children of the subject Christians, and train them up to be the bloodiest in fury against their own race and creed ! 382 THE STORY OP IRELAND. ster massacre on his part filled all the land with horror. He besieged and stormed Cashel. The women and chil- dren took refuge in the grand cathedral on the rock, the ruins of which still excite the tourist's admiration. Inchiquin poured in volleys of musket balls through the doors and windows, unmoved by the piercing shrieks of the crowded victims within, and then sent in his troopers to finish with pike and sabre the work which the bullets had left incomplete. The floor was encumbered with piles of mangled bodies, and twenty priests who had sought shelter under the altars were dragged forth and slaughtered with a fury which the mere extinction of life could not half appease".* Ere the horror excited by this hideous butchery had died away, the country heard with conster- nation that the Supreme Council of the Confederation had concluded a treaty with Inchiquin, as a first step towards securing his alliance. In vain the nuncio and the bishops protested against alliance or union with the man whose hands were still wet and red with the blood of anointed priests, massacred at the altar I The majority of the council evidently judged — sincerely, it may be credited — that under all the circumstances it was a sub- stantial good to make terms with, and possibly draw over to the royal cause, a foe so powerful. The bishops did not look on the question thus ; nor did the lay ( native) Irish leaders. The former recoiled in horror from com- munion with a sacrilegious murderer ; the latter, to like aversion joined an absolute suspicion of his treachery, and time justified their suspicions. The truce nevertheless was signed at Dungarvan on the 20th of May, 1648. Fully conscious that the nuncio and the national party would resist such an unholy pact, the contracting parties bound themselves to unite their forces against whomsoever would assail it. Accordingly Preston, the favourite general of the " Ormondist" Confederates, joined his troops to those of Inchiquin to crush O'Neill, whom with good cause they feared most. Five days after the "league Havertv THE STORY OF IRELAND, 383 with sacrilege and murder" was signed, the nuncio pub- lished a sentence of excommunication against its abettors, and an interdict against all cities and towns receiving it. Having posted this proclamation on the gates of the cathedral, he made his escape from the city, and repaired to the camp of O'Neill at Maryboro'. Four months of wild confused conflict — all the old actors, with barely a few exceptions, having changed sides or allies — were ended in September, by the arrival of Ormond at Cork— (he had fled to France after an unaccountable if not traitorous surrender of Dublin to the Puritans) — express- ing willingness to negotiate anew with the confederation on the part of the king and his friends, on the basis of Glamorgan's first treaty. Four months subsequently — on the 17th January, 1649 — this treaty, fully acceptable to all parties, was finally ratified and published amidst great rejoicings; and the seven years' war was brought to an end ! Ormond and his royal master had wasted four years in vain, hesitating over the one clause which alone it may be said was at issue between them and the Irish national party — that one simply securing the Catholic religion against proscription and persecution, and stipulating the restriction of further spoliation of the churches. Its simple justice was fully conceded in the end. Too late! Scarcely had the rejoicings over the happy peace, or rather the alliance between the English, Scotch, and Irish royalists, Catholic and Protestant, ceased in Ireland, when the news of the king's death in London shocked the land. Charles, as already mentioned, had flung himself upon the loyalty of the Scottish parliament, in which the Lowland covenant- ing element predominated. His rebellious subjects on the southern side of the border, thirsting for his blood, ofi'ered to buy him from the Scots. After a short time spent in haggling over the bargain, those canny saints sold the un- fortunate Charles for a money price offour hundred thou- sand pounds — an infamy for which the world has not a parallel. The blood-money was duly paid, and the Eng- lish bore their king to London, where they murdered him publicly at Whitehall on the 30th January, 1649. 384 THE STORY OF IRELAND. A few weeks after this event the uncompromising and tme-hearted, but impetuous and imperious nuncio, Rinuc- cini, bade adieu to the hapless land into whose cause he had entered heart and soul, but whose distractions pros- trated his warm hopes. He sailed from Galway for home, in his ship the San Pietro, on the 23rd February, 1649. And now, while the at-length united confederates and royalists are proclaiming the young Prince of Wales as king throughout Ireland, lo I the huge black shadow of a giant destroyer near at hand is flung across the scene 1 LIX. — HOW CROMWELL LED THE PURITAN REBELS INTO IRE- LAND. HOW IRELAND BY A LESSON TOO TERRIBLE TO BE FORGOTTEN WAS TAUGHT THE DANGER OF TOO MUCH LOYALTY TO AN ENGLISH SOVEREIGN, ^ T is the figure of the great Eegicide that looms up at this period, like a huge colossus of power and wrath. The English nation caused Oliver Cromwell's body to be disinterred and hung in chains, and buried at the gallows foot. Even in our own day that nation, I believe, refuses to him a place amidst the statues of its famous public men, set up in the legislative palace at Westminster. If England honoured none of her heroes who w^ere not good as well as great, this would be more rn telligible and less inconsistent. She gave birth to few greater men, whose gi-eatness is judged apart from virtue ; and, if she honours as her greatest philosopher and moral- ist the corrupt and venal lord chancellor Bacon, degraded for selling his decisions to the highest bribe, it is the merest squeamishness to ostracise the Great Protector", because one king was amongst his murdered victims. England has had for half a thousand years few sove-» reign rulers to compare in intellect with this bankrupt brewer of Huntingdon". She owes much of her latter-day EmojpesLn prestige to his undoubted national spirit; for, THE STORY OP IRELAND, S85 though a despot, a bigot, and a canting hypocrite, he was a thorough nationalist as an Englishman. And she owes not a little of her constitutional liberty to the democratic principles with which the republican party, on whose shoulders he mounted to power, leavened the nation. In 1649, the Puritan revolution had consumed all op- position in England ; but Ireland presented an inviting field for what the Protector and his soldiery called the work of the Lord". There their passions would be /w% aroused ; and there their vengeance would have full scope. To pull down the throne, and cut off Charles' head, was, after all (according to their ideas), overthrowing only a political tyranny and an episcopal dominance amongst their own fellow countrymen and fellow Protestants. But in Ireland there was an idolatrous people to be put to the sword, and their fertile country to be possessed. Glory, halleluja! The bare prospect of a campaign then threw all the Puritan regiments into ecstasies. It was the sum- mons of the Lord to His chosen people to cross the Jor- dan and enter the promised land ! In this spirit Cromwell came to Ireland, landing at Dublin on the 14th August, 1649. He remained nine months. Never, perhaps, in the same space of time, had one man more of horror and desolation to show for him- self. It is not for any of the ordinary severities of war that Cromwell's name is infamous in Ireland. War is no child's play, and those who take to it must not wail if its fair penalties fall upon them ever so hard and heavy. If Cromwell, therefore, was merely a vigorous and thorough" soldier, it would be unjust to cast special odium upon him. To call him " savage" because the slain of his enemies in battle might have been enormous in amount, would be simply contemptible. But it is for a far different reason Cromwell is execrated in Ireland, It is for such butche- ries of the unarmed and defenceless non-combatants — the ruthless slaughter of inoffensive women and children — as Drogheda and Wexford witnessed, that he is justly re- garded as a bloody and brutal tyrant. Bitterly, bitterly, did the Irish people pay for their loyalty to the English sovereign; an error they had just barely learned to com- 25 386 THE STORY OF IRELAND. mit, althougli scourged for centuries by England compel- ling them thereto ! I spare myself recital of the horrors of that time. Yet it is meet to record the fact that not even before the terrors of such a man did the Irish ex- hibit a craven or cowardly spirit. Unhappily for their worldly fortunes, if not for their fame, they were high- spirited and unfearing, where pusillanimity would cer- tainly have been safety, and might have been only pru- dence. Owen Eoe O'Neill was struck down by death early in the struggle, and by the common testimony of friend and foe, in him the Irish lost the only military leader capable of coping with Cromwell.* Nevertheless, with that courage which unflinchingly looks ruin in the face, and chooses death before dishonour, the Irish fought the issue out. At length, after a fearful and bloody struggle of nearly three years' duration, "on the 12th May, 1652, the Leinster army of the Irish surrendered on terms signed at Kilkenny, which were adopted succes- sively by the other principal armies between that time and the September following, when the XJlster forces sur- rendered". * He died 6th November, 1649, at Cloughoughter Castle, county Cavan, on his way southward to effect a iunction with Ormond for a campaign against Cromwell. He was buried in the cemetery of the Franciscan convent in the town of Cavan. A popular tradition, absurdly erroneous, to the effect that he died by poison— " having danced in poisoned slippers" — has been adopted by Davis in his ''Lament for the death of Owen Roe". The story, however, is quite apocryphaL THE STORY OP IRELAND. 887 LX. — THE AGONY OF A NATION. HAT ensued upon the Cromwellian conquest of Ireland has been told recently in a book written under most singular circumstances — a compilation from state records and official documents — a book which the reader may take in his hand, and challenge the wide world for another such true story. About one-and-twenty years ago an Irish professional gentleman, a member of the bar, a Protestant, educated in England, belonging to one of those noble Anglo-Norman families, who early identified themselves in sympathy with Ireland as the country of their adop- tion, " received a commission from England to make some pedigree researches in Tipperary". He was well qualified for a task which enlisted at once the abilities of a jurist and the attainments of an archaeologist. By inclination and habit far removed from the stormy atmosphere of politics, his life had been largely devoted to the tranquil pursuits of study at home or in other lands. His literary and philosophic tastes, his legal schooling, and above all his professional experience, which in various occupations had brought him largely into contact with the practical realities of life in Ireland, all tended to give him an inte- rest in the subject thus committed to his investigations. His client little thought however — for a long time he little dreamt himself — that to the accident of such a commis- sion would be traceable the existence subsequently of one of the most remarkable books ever printed in the English language — ^*The Cromwellian Settlement of Ireland", by Mr. John P. Prendergast. It would be hopeless to attempt to abbreviate or sum- marise the startling romance, the mournful tragedy of history — " the record of anation's woes" — which Mr. Pren- dergast, as he tells us, discovered in the dust-covered cell of that gloomy tower in Dublin Castle yard, apparently the same that once was the dungeon of Hugh Roe O'Don- 888 THE STORY OP IRELAND. nell.* I therefore relinquish all idea of following in detail the transactions which immediately followed upon the capitulation of the Irish armies; "when", says Mr. Pren- dergast, "there took place a scene not witnessed in Europe since the conquest of Spain by the Vandals". "Indeed", he continues, " it is injustice to the Vandals to equal them with the English of 1652 ; for the Vandals came as stran- gers and conquerors in an age of force and barbarism ; nor • "I now thought of searching the Record Commissioners' Re- ports, and found there were several volumes of the very date required, 1650 — 1659, in the custody of the clerk of the privy council, pre- served in the heavily embattled tower which forms the most strik- ing feature of the Castle of Dublin. They were only accessible at that day tlurough the order of the lord Ueutenant or chief secretary for Ireland. I obtained, at length, in the month of September, 1849, an order. It may be easily imagined with what interest I followed the porter up the dark winding stone staircase of this gloomy tower, once the prison of the castle, and was ushered into a small central space that seemed dark, even after the dark stairs we had just left. As the eye became accustomed to the spot, it appeared that the doors of five cells made in the prodigious thickness of the tower walls, opened on the central space. From one of them Hugh Roe O'Donel is said to have escaped, by getting down the privy of his cell to the Poddle River that runs around the base of the tower. The place was covered with the dust of twenty years ; but opening a couple of volumes of the statutes — one as a clean spot to place my coat upon, the other to sit on — I took my seat in the cell exactly opposite to the one just mentioned, as it looked to the south over the castle garden, and had better light In this tewer I found a series of Order Books of the Commissionerrs of the ParUament of the Common- wealth of England for the affairs of Ireland, together with domestic correspondence and Books of Establishments from 1650 to 1659. They were marked on the bac]' loy the letter A over a number, as will be observed in the various inferences in the notes to the present sketch. Here I found the records of a nation's woes. I felt that I had at last reached the haven I had been so long seeking. There I sat, extracting, for many weeks, until I began to know the voices of many of the corporals that came with the guard to relieve the sentry in the castle yard below, and every drum and bugle call of the regi- ment quartered in the Ship Street barracks. At length, between the labour of copying and excitement at the astonishing drama perform- ing, as it were, before my eyes, my heart by some strange movements warned me it was necessary to retire for a time. But I again and again returned at intervals, sometimes of months, sometimes of years" — Preface to the Cromwellian Settlement of Ireland, THE STORY OP IRELAND, 889 did they banish the people, though they seized and divided their lands by lot; but the English of 1652 were of the same nation as half of the chief families in Ireland, and had at that time had the island under their sway for fiye hundred years. " The captains and men of war of the Irish, amounting to forty thousand men and upwards, they banished into Spain, where they took service under that king ; others of them with a crowd of orphan girls were transported to serve the English planters in the West Indies ; and the remnant of the nation not banished or transported were to be transplanted into Connaught, while the conquering army divided the ancient inheritances of the Irish amongst them by lot". James essayed the plantation of Ulster, as Henry and Elizabeth had the colonisation of Munster. The repub- lican parliament went much farther, " improving" to the full their dreadful " opportunity". They decided to colo- nise three provinces — Leinster, Munster, and Ulster — con- verting the fourth (Connaught) into a vast encircled prison, into which such of the doomed natives as were not either transported as white slaves to Barbadoes, kept for servitude by the new settlers, or allowed to expatriate themselves as a privilege, might be driven on pain of im- mediate death ; the calculation being, that in the deso- late tracts assigned as their unsheltered prison they must inevitably perish ere long. The American poet, Longfellow, has, in the poem of "Evangeline", immortalised the story of Acadia. How many a heart has melted into pity, how many an eye has filled with tears, perusing his metrical relation of the "transplanting" and dispersion of that one little commu- nity " on the shore of the basin of Minas" 1 But alas 1 how few recall or realise the fact — if, indeed, aware of it at all — that not one but hundreds of such dispersions, infi- nitely more tragical and more romantic, were witnessed in Ireland in the year 1654, when in every hamlet through- out three provinces "the sentence of expulsion was sped from door to doorl" Longfellow describes to us how the English captain read aloud to the dismayed and grief- 390 THE STORY OP IRELAND. stricken villagers of Grand Pre the decree for their dis- persion. Unconsciously, the poet merely described the form directed by an act of the English parliament to be adopted all over Ireland, when, beat of drumme and sound of trumpett, on some markett day, within tenn days after the same shall come unto them within their respec- tive precincts", *Hhe governor and commissioners of reve- nue, or any two or more of them within every precinct", were ordered to publish and proclaim " this present de- claration" : to wit, that " all the ancient estates and farms of the people of Ireland were to belong to the adventurers and the army of England, and that the parliament had assigned Connaught (America was not then accessible) for the habitation of the Irish nation, whither they must trans- plant with their wives and daughters and children before the Ist May following (1654), under penalty of death, if found on this side of the Shannon after that day^\ " Connaught was selected for the habitation of all the Irish nation", we are reminded, by reason of its being surrounded by the sea and the Shannon all but ten miles, and the whole easily made into line by a few forts.* To further secure the imprisonment of the nation, and to cut them off from relief by the sea. a belt four miles wide, commencing one mile west of Sligo, and so winding along the sea coast and the Shannon, was reserved by the act (27th September, 1653) from being set out to the Irish, and was to be given to the soldiery to plant". The Irish were not to attempt to pass the four mile line", as it was . called, or to enter a walled town (or to come within five miles of certain specified towns) on pain of death^\'\ * "9th March, 1654-5. — Order— Passes over the Shannon be- tween Jamestown and Sligo to be closed, so as to make one entire line between Connaught and the adjacent parts of Leinster and Ulster". t " How strict was the imprisonment of the transplanted in Con- naught may be judged when it required a special order for Lord Trimbleston, Sir Richard Barnwall, Mr. Patrick Netterville, and others, then dwelling in the suburbs of Athlone on the Connaught side, to pass and repass the bridge into the part of the town on the Leinster side on their business ; and only on giving security not to pass without special leave of the governor" — Cromwellian Settle- ment; with a reference to the State Record. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 391 Need we marvel tliat all over tlie land the loud wail of grief and despair resounded for days together? It was one universal scene of distracted leave-taking, and then along every road that led towards Connaught, each a via dolorosa, the sorrowing cavalcades streamed, weary, faint- ing, and foot-sore, weeping aloud I Towards the seaports moved other processions ; alas ! of not less mournful character — the Irish regiments marching to embark for exile; or the gangs in charge to be trans- ported and sold into slavery in the pestilential settlements of the West Indies I Of young boys and girls alone Sir William Petty confesses six thousand were thus trans- ported; "but the total number of Irish sent to perish in the tobacco islands, as they were called, were estimated in some Irish accounts at one hundred thousand". Force was necessary to collect them ; but vain was all resistance. Bands of soldiery went about tearing from the arms of their shrieking parents, young children of ten or twelve years, then chaining them in gangs, they marched them to the nearest port ! " Henry Cromwell (Oliver's son), who was most active in the kidnapping of Irish * white slaves', writing from Ireland to Secretary Thurloe, says : * I think it might be of like advantage to your affairs there, and ours here, if you should think to send one thousand five hun- dred or two thousand young boys of twelve or fourteen years of age to the place aforementioned (West Indies). Who knows but it may be the means to make them Eng- ♦ lishmen — I mean, rather. Christians'. Thurloe answers: * The committee of the council have voted one thousand girls and as many youths to be taken up for that purpose' The piety of the amiable kidn&pper will be noted. But it was always so with his class; whether confiscating or transplanting, whether robbing the Irish, or selling them into slavery, it was always for their spiritual or tem- poral good — to sanctify or to civilize them. Accordingly we read that at this period " the parliamentary commis- sioners in Dublin published a proclamation by which and other edicts any Catholic priest found in Ireland after twenty days, was guilty of high treason, and liable to be hanged, drawn, and quartered; any person harbouring tHB STORY OP IRELAND. such clergyman was liable to the penalty of death, and loss of goods and chattels ; and any person knowing the place of concealment of a priest and not disclosing it to the authorities, might be publicly whipped, and further punished with amputation of ears. Any person absent from the parish church on a Sun- day was liable to a fine of thirty pence; magistrates might take away the children of Catholics and send them to England for education, and might tender the oath of abjuration to all persons at the age of twenty-one years, who, on refusal, were liable to imprisonment during plea- sure, and the forfeiture of two-thirds of their real and personal estates. " The same price of five pounds was set on the head of a priest and on that of a wolf, and the production of either head was a sufficient claim for the reward. The military being distributed in small parties over the coun- try, and their vigilance kept alive by sectarian rancour and the promise of reward, it must have been difficult for a priest to escape detection; but many of them, never- theless, braved the danger for their poor scattered flocks ; and, residing in caverns in the mountains, or in lonely hovels in the bogs, they issued forth at night to carry the consolations of religion to the huts of their oppressed and suffering countrymen".* Ludlow", continues the same author, "relates in his Memoirs (vol. i., page 422 de Vevay, 1691) how, when marching from Dundalk to Castleblaney, probably near the close of 1652, he discovered a few of the Irish in a cave, and how his party spent two days in endeavouring to smother them by smoke. It appears that the poor fugitives preserved themselves from suffocation during this operation, by holding their faces close to the surface of some running water in the cavern, and that one of this party was armed with a pistol, with which he shot the fore- most of the troopers who were entering the mouth of the cave after the first day's smoking. Ludlow caused the • Havertij. tHfi STORf OF IRBLANi). 395 trial to be repeated, and the crevices through which the smoke escaped having been closed, ^another smoke was made'. The next time the soldiers entered with helmets and breast-plates, but they found the only armed man dead, inside the entrance, where he was suffocated at his post; while the other fugitives still preserved life at the little brook. Fifteen were put to the sword within the cave, and four dragged out alive ; but Ludlow does not mention whether he hanged these then or not ; but one at least of the original number was a Catholic priest, for the soldiers found a crucifix, chalice, and priest's robes in the cavern". Of our kindred, old or young, sold into slavery in the "tobacco islands", we hear no more in history, and shall hear no more until the last great accounting day. Of those little ones — just old enough to feel all the pangs of such a ruthless and eternal severance from loving mother, from fond father, from brothers and playmates, from all of happiness on earth — no record tells the fate. We only know that a few years subsequently there survived of them in the islands barely the remembrance that they came in shiploads and perished soon — too young to stand the climate or endure the toil! But at home — in the rifled nest of the parent's heart — what a memory of them was kept 1 There the image of each little victim was en- shrined; and father and mother, bowed with years and suffering, went down to the grave " still thinking, ever thinking" of the absent, the cherished one, whom they were never to see on earth again, now writhing beneath a planter's lash, or filling a nameless grave in Jamaican soil ! Yes, that army of innocents vanish from the record here; but the great God who marked the slaughters of Herod, has kept a reckoning of the crime that in that hour so notably likened Ireland to Rachel weeping for her children. But there was another army — other of the expatri- ated — of whom we are not to lose sight, the " Irish sword- men", so-called in the European writings of the time ; the Irish regiments who elected to go into exile, preferring to "roam Where freedom and their God might lead", S96 THE STORY OB* IRELAND, rather than be bondsmen under a bigot-yoke at home. "Foreign nations were apprised by the Kilkenny Articles that the Irish were to be allowed to engage in the service of any state in amity with the Commonwealth. The valour of the Irish soldier was well known abroad. From the time of the Munster plantation by Queen Elizabeth, numerous exiles had taken service in the Spanish army. There were Irish regiments serving in the Low Countries. The Prince of Orange declared they were *born soldiers'; and Henry the Fourth of France publicly called Hugh O'Neill Hhe third soldier of the age', and he said there was no nation made better troops than the Irish when drilled. Agents from the King of Spain, the King of Poland, and the Prince de Conde, were now contending for the services of Irish troops. Don Kicardo White, in May, 1652, shipped seven thousand in batches from Waterford, Kinsale, Galway, Limerick, and Bantry, for the King of Spain. Colonel Christopher Mayo got liberty in September, 1652, to beat his drums to raise three thousand for the same king. Lord Muskerry took five thousand to the King of Poland. In July, 1654, three thousand five hundred, commanded by Colonel Edmund Droyer, went to serve the Prince de Conde. Sir Walter Dungan and others got liberty to beat their drums in different garrisons, to a rallying of their men that laid down arms with them in order to a rendezvous, and to depart for Spain. They got permission to march their men together to the different ports, their pipers perhaps playing ' Ha til, Ha til. Ha til, mi tulidh' — * We return, we return no more!'* Between 1651 and 1664, thirty- four thousand (of whom few ever saw their loved native land again) were transported into foreign parts". f While the roads to Connaught were as I have described witnessing a stream of hapless fugitives — prisoners rather, * "The tune with which the departing Highlanders usually bid farewell to their native shores". — Preface to Sir Walter Scott's Legend of Montrose, t Prendergast's Crom, StttlemenL THE STORY OP IRELAND. 397 plodding wearily to their dungeon and grave — a singular scene was going on in London. At an office or bureau appointed for the purpose by government, a lottery was held, whereat the farms, houses, and estates from which the owners had thus been driven, were being drawn" by or on behalf of the soldiers and officers of the army, and the "adventurers" — i,e, petty shopkeepers in London, and others who had lent money for the war on the Irish. The mode of conducting the lottery or drawing was regulated by public ordinance. Not unfrequently a vulgar and illiterate trooper " drew" the mansion and estate of an Irish nobleman, who was glad to accept permission to inhabit, for a few weeks merely, the stable or the cow- shed* with his lady and children, pending their setting- out for Connaught! This same lottery was the settle- ment" (varied a little by further confiscations to the same end forty years subsequently) by which the now existing landed proprietary was "planted" upon Ireland. Between a proprietary thus planted and the bulk of the population, as well as the tenantry under them, it is not to be mar- velled that feelings the reverse of cordial prevailed. From the first they scowled at each other. The plundered and trampled people despised and hated the "Cromwellian brood", as they were called, never regarding them as more than vulgar and violent usurpers of other men's estates. The Cromwellians, on the other hand, feared and hated the serf-peasantry, whose secret sentiments and desires of hostility they well knew.' Nothing but the fusing spirit of nationality obliterates such feelings as these ; but no such spirit was allowed to fuse the Crom- wellian " landlords" and the Irish tenantry. The former were taught to consider themselves as a foreign garrison, endowed to watch and keep down, and levy a land-tribute ofi" the native tillers of the soil j moreover " the salt of the land", the "elect of the Lord", the ruling class, alone entitled to be ranked as saints or citizens. So they * See the case of the then proprietor of the magnificent place now calle/:l Woodlands, county Dublin.— Crom. Set. Ire, 898 THE STORY OP IRELAND. looked to and leaned all on England, without whom they thought they must be massacred. Aliens in race, in language, and in religion", they had not one tie in com- mon with the subject population; and so both classes unhappily grew up to be what they remain very much in our own day— more of taskmasters and bondsmen than landlords and tenants. LXI. — HOW KING CHARLES THE SECOND CAME BACK ON A COMPROMISE, HOW A NEW MASSACRE STORY WAS SET TO WORK. THE MARTYRDOM OF PRIMATE PLUNKETT. OSSESSED of supreme power, Cromwell, by a bold stroke of usurpation, now changed the republic to what he called a protectorate", with himself as " Protector"; in other words, a kingdom, with Oliver as king, vice Charles, decapitated. This coup etat completely dis- gusted the sincere republicans of the Pym and Ludlow school ; and on the death of the iron- willed Protector, 3rd September, 1658, the whole structure set up by the revolution on the ruins of the monarchy in England tottered and fell. Communication had been opened with the second Charles, a worthless, empty-headed creature, and it was made clear to him, that if he would only undertake not to disturb too much the " vested interests" created during the revolution — that is, if he would undertake to let the "settlement of property'* (as they were pleased to call their stealing of other men's estates) alone — his return to the throne might be made easy. Charles was delighted. This proposal only asked of him to sacrifice his friends, now no longer power- ful, since they had lost all in his behalf. He acquiesced, and the monarchy was restored. The Irish nobility and gentry, native and Anglo-Irish, who had been so fearfully scourged for the sin of loyalty to his father, now joyfully expected that right would be done, and that they would en- THE STORY OF IRELAND. 899 joy their own once more. They irere soon undeceived. Such of the lottery'* speculators, or army officers and soldiers as were actually in possession of the estates of royalist owners, were not -to be disturbed. Such estates only as had not actually been "taken up" were to be restored to the owners. There was one class, kowever, whom all the others readily agreed might be robbsd without any danger — nay, whom it was loudly declared to be a crime to desist from robbing to the last — namely, the Catholics — especially the " Irish Papists". The reason why, was not clear. Everybody, on the contrary, saw that they had suffered most of all for their devoted loyalty to the mur- dered king. After a while a low murmur of compassion — muttering even of justice for them— began to be heard about the court. This danger created great alarm. The monstrous idea of justice to the Catholics was surely not to be endured; but what was to be done? "Happy thought!" — imitate the skilful ruse of the Irish Puritans in starting the massacre story of 1641. But where was the scene of massacre to be laid this time, and when must they say it had taken place ? This was found to be an irresistible stopper on a new massacre story in the past, but then the great boundless future was open to them : could they not say it was yet to take place? A blessed inspiration the saintly people called this. Yes ; they could get up an anti-Catholic frenzy with a massacre-story about the future, as well as with one relating to the past! Accordingly, in 1678 the diabolical fabrication known as the " Great Popish Plot" made its appearance. The great Protestant historian, Charles James Fox, declared that the Popish plot story "must always be considered an indelible disgrace upon the English nation". Macaulay more recently has still more vehemently denounced the infamy of that concoction ; and indeed, even a year or two after it had done its work, all England rang with execra- tions of its concoctors — several of whom, Titus Gates, the chief swearer, especially, suffered the penalty of their dis- covered perjuries. But the plot-story did its appointed work splendidly and completely, and all the sentimental horror of a thousand 400 THE STORY OP IRELAND. Macaulays could nought avail, once that work was done. A proper fury had been got up against the Catholics, arresting the idea of compassionating them, giving full im- petus to a merciless persecution of Popish priests, and, above all (crowning merit!) effectually silencing all suggestions about restoring to Irish Catholic royalists their estates and possessions. Shaftesbury, one of the chief promoters of the plot-story, was indeed dragged to the tower as an abomi- nable and perjured miscreant, but not until the scaffold had drunk deep of Catholic blood, and Tyburn had been the scene of that mournful tragedy — that foul and heartless murder — of which Oliver Plunkett, the sainted martyr- primate of Ireland, was the victim.* This venerable man was at Rome when the Pope selected him for the primacy. A bloody persecution was at the moment raging in Ireland; and Dr. Plunkett felt that the appointment was a summons to martyrdom. Nevertheless he hastened to Ireland, and assumed the duties of his posi- tion. Such was his gentleness, and purity of character, his profound learning, the piety, and indeed sanctity, of his life, that even the Protestant officials and gentry round about came to entertain for him the highest respect and personal regard. Prudent and circumspect, he rigidly abstained from interference in the troubled politics of the period, and devoted himself exclusively to rigorous re- forms of such irregularities and abuses as had crept into parochial or diocesan affairs during the past century of * Few episodes in Irish history are more tragic and touching than that with which the name of the Martyr-Primate is asso- ciated, and there have been few more valuable contributions to Irish CathoUc or historical literature in our generation than the " Memoir" of this illustrious prelate by the Rev. Dr. Moran. In it the learned reverend author has utilised the rich stores of original manuscripts relating to the period — nnany of them letters in the Martjrr-Primate s handwriting— preserved in Rome, and has made his book not only a "memoir" of the murdered archbishop, but an authentic history of & period momentous in its importance and interest for Irishmen. A much briefer Avork is the Life and Death of Oliver Plunkett, by the Rev. George CroUy, a little book which tells a sad story in language full of simple pathos and true eloquence. THE STORY OP IRELAND. 401 civil war and social chaos. For the support of the "in- tended massacre" story it was clearly necessary to extend the scene of the plot to Ireland (so much more Popish than England), and casting about for some one to put down as chief conspirator, the constructors of the story thought the head of the Popish prelates ought to be the man, ex officio. The London government accordingly wrote to the Irish lord lieutenant to announce that the Popish plot" existed in Ireland also. He complied. Next he was to resume energetically the statutory persecutions of the Papists. This also he obeyed. Next he was directed to arrest the Popish primate for complicity in the plot. Here he halted. From the correspondence it would appear that he wrote back to the effect that this was rather too strong, inasmuch as even amongst the ultra-Protestants, the idea of Dr. Plunkett being concerned in any such business would be scouted. Besides, he pointed out there was no evidence. He was told that this made no matter,- to obey his orders, and arrest the Primate. He complied reluc- tantly. An agent of the Gates and Shaftesbury gang in London, Hetherington by name, was now sent over to Dublin to get up evidence, and soon proclamations were circulated through all the jails, offering pardon to any criminal — murderer, robber, tory, or traitor — who could (would) give the necessary evidence against the Primate; and accordingly crown witnesses by the dozen competed in willingness to swear anything that was required. The Primate was brought to trial at Drogheda, but the grand jury, though ultra-Protestant to aman, threw out the bill; the perjury of the crown witnesses was too gross, the in- nocence of the meek and venerable man before them too apparent. When the news reached London, great was the indignation there. The lord lieutenant was at once directed to send the Primate thither, where no such squeamishness of jurors would mar the ends of injustice. The hapless prelate was shipped to London and brought to trial there. Macaulay himself has described for us from original authorities themannerin which those trials" were conducted. Here is his description of the witnesses, the judges, the juries, and the audience in court : 26 402 THE STORY OP IRELAND. A wretch named Carstairs, who had earned a living in Scotland by going disguised to conventicles, and then informing against the preachers, led the way ; Bedloe, a noted swindler, followed; and soon from all the brothels, gambling-houses, and sponging-houses of London, false witnesses poured forth to swear away the lives of Roman Catholics. . . . Gates, that he might not be eclipsed by his imitators, soon added a large supplement to his original narrative. The vulgar believed, and the highest magistrates pretended to beUeve, even such fictions as these. The chief judges of the kingdom were oorrupt, cruel, and timid The juries partook of the feelings then common throughout the nation, and were encouraged by the bench to indulge those feelings without restraint. The multitude applauded Gates and his con- federates, hooted and pelted the witnesses who appeared on behalf of the accused, and shouted with joy when the verdict of guilty was pronounced". Before such a tribunal, on the 8th of June, 1681, the aged and venerable Primate was arraigned, and of course convicted. The scene in court was ineffably brutal. In accordance with the law in that time, the accused was allowed no counsel, whereas the crown was represented by the Attorney-General and Sergeant Maynard; the judges being fully as ferocious as the official prosecutors. Every attempt made by the venerable victim at the bar to defend himself, only elicited a roar of anger or a malignant taunt from one side or the other. The scene has not inappropriately been likened, rather to the tor- turing of a victim at the stake by savage Indians, dancing and shouting wildly round him, than the trial of a prisoner in a court of law. At length the verdict was delivered; to which, when he heard it, the archbishop simply answered: Deo gratiasf^ Then he was sentenced to be drawn on a hurdle to Tybarn, there and then to be hanged, cut down while alive, his body quartered, and the entrails burned in fire. He heard this infamous decree with serene composure. **But looking upward full of grace, God's glory smote him on the face". THB STORY OF IRELAND. 403 Even amongst the governing party there were many who felt greatly shocked by this conviction. The thing was too glaring. The Protestant archbishop of Dublin (who seems to have been a humane and honourable man) expressed aloud his horror, and fearlessly declared the Catholic primate as innocent of the crimes alleged as an unborn child. But no one durst take on himself at the moment to stem the tide of English popular fury. The Earl of Essex, indeed, hurried to the king and vehemently besought him to save the Irish primate by a royal pardon. Charles, terribly excited, declared that he, as well as every one of them, knew the primate to be innocent. but", cried he, with passionate earnestness, ye could have saved him; I cannot — you know well 1 dare not'\ Then, like Pontius Pilate, he desired " the blood of this innocent man'' to be on their heads, not his. The law should take its course. The law" did take its course". The sainted Plunkett was dragged on a hurdle to Tyburn amidst the yells of the London populace. There he was hanged, beheaded, quar- tered, and disembowelled, according to law", July 1st, 1681. Soon after, as 1 have already intimated, the popular delirium cooled down, and every body began to see that rivers of innocent Catholic blood had been made to flow without cause, crime, oi offence. But what of that? A most salutary check had been administered to the appre- hended design of restoring tc Cainoiic royalists the lands they had lost through theii devotion to the late king. The <^ Popish Plot" story of 1678, like the great massacre Btory of 1641, had accomplished its. allotted work. 404 THE STORY OF IRELAND. LXII. — HOW KING JAMES THE SECOND, BY ARBITRARILY AS- SERTING LIBERTY OF CONSCIENCE, UTTERLY VIOLATED THE WILL OF THE ENGLISH NATION. HOW THE ENGLISH AGREED, CONFEDERATED, COMBINED, AND CONSPIRED TO DEPOSE THE KING, AND BEAT UP FOR FOREIGN EMIS- SARIES" TO COME AND BEGIN THE REBELLION FOR THEM. N the 6tli February, 1685, Charles the Second closed a life the chronicles of which may be searched in vain for a notable act of goodness, wisdom, valour, or virtue. On his death-bed he openly professed the faith which for years past, if not at all times, he had secretly be- ;s^-^^ lieved in, but dared not publicly avow — ^ Catholicity. The man, however, on whom now devolved the triple crown of England, Scotland, and Ire- land — Charles's brother, James, Duke of York — was one who had neither dissembled nor concealed his religious convictions. He was a sincere Catholic, and had endured much of trouble and persecution in consequence of his pro- fession of that faith. He was married to the young and beautiful princess Mary of Modena, an ardent Catholic like himself,* and the ultra-Protestant party witnessed his ac- cession to the throne with undisguised chagrin and sullen discontent. All writers have agreed in attributing to James the Se- cond a disregard of the plainest dictates of prudence, if not of the plainest limits of legality, in the measures he adopted for the accomplishment of a purpose unquestionably equi- table, laudable, and beneficent — namely, the abolition of proscription and persecution for conscience sake, and the establishment of religious freedom and equality. It may be said, and with perfect truth, that though this was so, though James was rash and headlong, it mattered little after all, for the end he aimed at was so utterly opposed to * She was his second \vife, and had been married to him at the age of fifteen. By his first wife, Ann, daughter of Chancellor Hyde, he had two daughters, who were brought up Protestants by their mother. They were married, one, Mary, to Prince William of Orange ; the other, Ann, to Prince George of Denmark. tHB STORY OF IRELAND. 405 the will of the English people, so inconsistent with vested interests" throughout all three kingdoms, that it was out of all possibility he could have succeeded, whether he were politic and cautious, or straightforward, arbitary, and rash. For the English nation was too strongly bent on thorough persecution, to be barred in its course, or diverted into tolerance or humanity by any power of king or queen ; and already the English people had made it plain that no man should be ruler over them who would not be of their mind on this subject. But James's conduct rendered his over- throw simply inevitable. Before he was well seated on the throne, he had precipitated conflicts with the judges, the bishops, and parliament; the point of contention, to be sure, being mainly his resolution of granting freedom of conscience to all creeds. It was in Ireland, however, that this startling programme evoked the wildest sensa- tion of alarm on the one hand, and rejoicing on the other; and it was there that, inevitably, owing to the vast pre- ponderance of the Catholic population, relative equality appeared to the Protestant eye as absolute Catholic domi- nance. Two Catholic judges and one Protestant may have been even short of the Catholic proportion; yet the Pro- testant colony would not look at the question in this way at all, and they called it intolerable Popish ascendancy. James had selected for the carrying out of his views in Ireland a man whose faults greatly resembled his own, Richard Talbot, subsequently Earl and Duke of Tyrconnel. He was devotedly attached to the king; a courtier, not a statesman; rash, vain, self-willed; a faithful nud loyal friend, but a famous man to lose a kingdom with. If the Irish Catholics had indulged in hopes on the accession successively of James's grandfather, father, and brother, what must have been their feelings now ? Here, assuredly, there was no room for mistake or doubt. A king resolved to befriend them was on the throne ! The land burst forth into universal rejoicing>. Out from hiding place in cellar and garret, cavern and fastness, came hunted prelate and priest, the surplice and the stole, the chalice and the patten ; and once more, in the open day and in the public churches, the ancient rites 406 THE STORY OF IRELAtTt). were seen. The people, awakened as if from a long trance of sorrow, heaved with a new life, and with faces all beaming and radiant went about in crowds chanting songs of joy and gratitude. One after one, the barriers of exclusion were laid low, and the bulk of the popu- lation admitted to equal rights with the colonist-Protes- tants. In fine, all men were declared equal in the eye of the law, irrespective of creed or race ; an utter rever- sion of the previous system, which constituted the '^colony'' the jailors of the fettered nation. Ireland and England accordingly seethed with Protest- ant disaffection, but there was an idea that the king would die without legitimate male issue,* and so the general re- solution seemed to be that in a few years all would be right, and these abuininable ideas of religious tolerance swept away once more. To the consternation and dismay of the anti-tolerance party, however, a son was born to James in June, 1688. There was no standing this. It was the signal for revolt. On this occasio no native insurrection initiated the revolution. In this crisis of their history— this moment in which was moulded and laid down the basis of the English constitution as it exists to our own time — the English nation asserted by precept and practice the truly singular doctrine, that even for the purpose of overthrowing a legi- imate native sovereign, conspiring malcontents act well and wisely in depending upon ''foreign emissaries'* to come and begin the work — and complete it too I So they invited the Dutch, and the Danes, and the Swedes, and the French Calvinists — and indeed, for that matter, foreign emissaries from every country or any country who would aid them — to come and help them in their rebellion against their king. To the Stadtholder of Holland, William Prince of Orange, they offered the throne, having ascertained that he would accept it without any qualms, on the ground * Four children bom to him by his second wife, all died young, and some vears had now elapsed without the birth of any other. THfi STORt Ot' IRELAKl). 407 that the king to be beheaded or driven away was at once his own uncle and father-in-law. This remarkable man has been greatly misunderstood, owing to the fact of his name bemg made the shibboleth of a faction whose sanguinary fanaticism he despised and repu- diated. William Henry Prince of Orange was now in his thirty-seventh year. An impartial and discriminating Catholic historian justly describes him to us as " fearless of danger, patient, silent, imperious to his enemies, rather a soldier than a statesman, indifferent in religion, and per- sonally adverse to persecution for conscience sake'', his great and almost his only public passion being the humilia- tion of France through the instrumentality of a European coalition. In the great struggle against French prepon- derance on the continent then bein^- waged by the league of Augsburg, William was on the same side with the rulers of Austria, Germany, and Spain, and even with the Pope; James, on the other hand, being altogether attached to France. In his designs on the English throne, however, the Dutch prince practised the grossest deceit on his con- federates of the league, protesting/ to them that he was coming to England solely to compose in a friendly way a domestic quarrel, one of the results of which would be to detach James from the side of France and add England to the league. By means of this duplicity he was able to bring to the aid of his English schemes, men, money, and material contributed for league purposes by his continental colleagues. On the 5th of November, 1688, William landed at Tor- bay in Devonshire. He brought with him a Dutch fleet of twenty-two men of war, twenty-five frigates, twenty- five fire-ships, and about four hundred transports ; con- veying in all about fifteen thousand men. If the royal army could have been relied upon, James might easily have disposed of these 'invaders" or liberators"; but the army went ove^- wholesale to the foreign emissaries". Thus finding himself surrounded by treason, and having the fate of his hapless father in remembrance, James took refuge in France, where he arrived on 25th December, 1688 ; the Queen and infant Prince of Wales, much to the m *fiE StORY Ot IRELAND. rage of the rebels, having been safely conveyed thither some short time previously. The revolutionary party affected to think the escape of the king an abdication, the theory being, that by not waiting to be beheaded he had forfeited the throne. England and Scotland unmistakably declared for the revolution. Ireland as unquestionably — indeed enthusias- tically — declared for the king ; any other course would be impossible to a people amongst whom ingratitude has been held infamous, and against whom want of chivalry or gene- rosity has never been alleged. In proportion as the Ca- tholic population expressed their sympathy with the king, the " colony" Protestants and Cromwellianite garrisons manifested their adhesion to the rebel cause, and began to flock from all sides into the strong places of Ulster, bring- ing with them their arms and ammunition. Tyrconnel, who had vainly endeavoured to call in the government arms in their hands (as militia), now commissioned several of the Catholic nobility and gentry to raise regiments of more certain loyalty for the king's service. Of recruits there was no lack, but of the use of arms or knowledge of drill or dis- cipline, these recruits knew absolutely nothing ; and of arms, of equipments, or of war material — especially of can- non — Tyrconnel found himself almost entirely destitute. The malcontents, on the other hand, constituted that class which for at least forty years past had enjoyed by law the sole right to possess arms, and who had from childhood, of necessity, been trained to use them. The royalist force which the viceroy sent to occupy Derry (a Catholic regi- ment newly raised by Lord Antrim), incredible as it may appear, had for the greater part no better arms than clubs and skians. It is not greatly to be wondered at that the Protestant citizens — amongst whom, as well as throughout all the Protestant districts in Ireland, anonymous letters had been circulated, giving out an " intended Popish mas- sacre"* of all the Protestantson the 9th December — feared to admit such a gathering within their walls. " The * The old, old story, always available, always efficacious 1 ffife STORt OF iRELANb. impression made by the report of the intended massacre, and the contempt naturally entertained for foes armed in so rude a fashion^', were as a matter of fact the chief in- centives to the closing of the gates of Derry", which event we may set down as the formal inauguration of the rebellion in Ireland. LXIII. — HOW WILLIAM AND JAMES MET FACE TO FACE AT THE BOYNE. A PLAIN SKETCH OF THE BATTLE FIELD AND THE TACTICS OF THE DAY. V, >s(aIGHTEEN months afterwards, two armies stood V 6^^^" face to face on the banks of the Boyne. King ^ James and Prince William for the first time were to contest in person the issues between them. The interval had not been without its events. In England the revolution encountered no op- position, and William was free to bring against Ireland and Scotland the full strength of his British levies, as well as of his foreign auxiliaries. Ireland, Tyrconnel was quite sanguine of holding for King James, even though at the worst England should be lost; and to arouse to the full the enthusiasm of the devoted Gaels, nay possibly to bring back to their allegiance the rebel- lious Ulster Protestants, he urged the king to come to Ireland and assume in person the direction of affairs. King Louis of France concurred in those views, and a squadron was prepared at Brest to carry the fugitive back to his dominions. ^* Accompanied by his natural sons, the Duke of Berwick and the Grand Prior Fitzjames, by Lieutenant-Generals de Kosen and de Maumont, Majors- General de Persignan and dc Lery (or Geraldine), about a hundred officers of all ranks, and one thousand two hundred veterans, James sailed from Brest with a fleet of thirty-three vessels, and landed at Kinsale on the 12th day of March (old style). His reception by the southern 410 THB STORY Of IRftLAND. population was enthusiastic in the extreme. From Kinsale to Cork, from Cork to Dublin, his progress was accom- panied by Gaelic songs and dances, by Latin orations, loyal addresses, and all the demonstrations with which a popular favourite can be welcomed Nothing was re- membered by that easily pacified people but his great misfortunes, and his steady fidelity to his and their religion. The royal entry into Dublin was the crowning pageant of this delusive restoration. With the tact and taste for such demonstrations hereditary in the citizens, the trades and arts were marshalled before him. Two venerable harpers played on their national instruments near the gate by which he entered ; a number of religious in their robes, with a huge cross at their heads, chanted as they went; forty young girls dressed in white, danced the ancient Einka, scattering flowers as they danced. The Earl of Tyrconnel, lately raised to a dukedom, the judges, the mayor and corporation, completed the pro- cession which marched over newly sanded streets beneath arches of evergreens, and windows hung with 'tapestry and cloth of Arras'. But, of all the incidents of that striking ceremonial, nothing more powerfully impressed the popular imagination than the green flag floating from the main tower of the castle, bearing the significant in- scription : ^Now or never — now and for ever^^\ So far well ; but when he came to look into the im- portant matter of material for war, a woful state of things confronted James. As we have already seen, for forty years past, in pursuance of acts of parliament rigorously enforced, no Catholic or native Irishman had been allowed to learn a trade, to inhabit walled towns, or to possess arms. ' As a consequence, when the Protes- tants, whom alone for nearly half a century the law allowed to learn to make, repair, or use firearms, fled to the north, there was in all the island scarcely a gunsmith or armourer oa whom the king could rely. Such Protestant artizans as remained, "when obliged to set about repair- ing guns or forging spears, threw every possible obstacle in the way, or executed the duty in such a manner as to leapve the weapon next to useless in the hour of action ; tfiS STORY OF IRELAND. 411 Tfliile night and day the fires blazed and the anvils rang in the preparation of the best arms for the Williamites". The want of cannon was most keenly felt on the king's side. At the time of the so-called siege of Derry (pro- gressing when James arrived), "there was not a single battering cannon fit for use in Ireland ; and there were only twelve field pieces". As a consequence, there was, as there could have been, no real siege of Derry. The place was blockaded more or less loosely for some months — closely towards the end. The inhabitants bore the privations of the blockade with great endurance and heroism ; though certainly not greater than that exhi- bited by the besieged in severer blockades elsewhere during the war.* It were pitiful and unworthy to deny to the brave rebels of Derry all that such heroic perse- verance as theirs deserves. Such qualities as they dis- played — such sufferings cheerfully borne for a cause they judged just and holy — deserve honour and acclaim wher- ever found. But, after all, as I have pointed out, it was a blockade, not a siege, they endured ; and their courage was put to no such test as that which tried the citizens of Limeiick two or three years subsequently. Meanwhile a splendidly appointed Williamite army had been collected at Chester. It was commanded by the veteran Duke Schonberg, and amounted to ten thousand men. They landed at Bangor, county Down, 13th August, 1689, and on the 17th took possession of Belfast". Little was accomplished on either side up to the summer follow- ing, when the news that William himself had resolved to take the field in Ireland, flung the Ulster rebels into * Notably, for instance, Fort Charlemont, held for the king by the gallant O'Regan with eight hundred men; besieged by Schom- berg at the head of more than as many thousands, with a splendid artillery train. The garrison, we are told, were reduced by hunger to the last extremity, and at length offered to surrender if allowed to march out with all the honours of war. Schomberg complied, and then, says a chronicler, " eight hundred men, with a large number of women and children, came forth, eagerly gnawing pieces of dry hides with the hair on ; a small portion of filthy meal and a few pounds of tainted beef being the only provisions remaining in the fort". 412 tHi: StORt Oj" IRftLANt). a state of enthusiastic rejoicing, and filled the royalists with concern. All felt now that the crisis was at hand. On the 14th June William landed at Carrickfergus, sur- rounded by a throng of veteran generals of continental fame, princes and peers, English and foreign. At Bel- fast, his first headquarters, he ascertained the forces at his disposal to be upwards of forty thousand men, *a strange medley of all nations' — Scandinavians, Swiss, Dutch, Prussians, Huguenot-French, English, Scotch, ' Scotch-Irish', and Anglo-Irish". " On the 16th June, James, informed of William's arrival, marched northward at the head of twenty thousand men, French and Irish, to meet him. On the 22nd James was at Dundalk, and William at Newry. As the latter advanced, the Jacobites retired, and finally chose their ground at the Boyne, re- solved to hazard a battle (even against such odds) for the preservation of Dublin and the safety of the province of Leinster".* No military opinion has ever been uttered of that reso- ;ution, save that it never should have been taken. The wonder is not that William forced the Boyne; all the mar- vel and the madness was that such an army as James's (especially, when commanded by such a man) ever at- tempted to defend it. Not merely had William nearly 50,000 men against James's 23,000; but whereas the for- mer force, all save a few thousand of the Ulster levies (and these, skilful and experienced sharp-shooters), were veteran troops, horse and foot, splendidly equipped, and supported by the finest park of artillery perhaps ever seen in Ire- land ; the latter army, with the exception of a few thousand French, were nearly all raw recruits hastily collected within a few months past from a population unacquainted with the use of firearms, and who had, of course, never been under fire in the field, and now had of artillery but six field pieces to support them. But even if this disparity had never existed, the contrast between the commanders would in itself have made all the difference possible. Wil- ♦ M'Gee. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 413 liam was an experienced military tactician, brave, cool, prescient, firm, and resolute. James, as duke of York, had distinguished himself bravely and honourably on land and sea, so that the charges of absolute cowardice often urged against him can scarcely be just. But his whole conduct of affairs in this Irish campaign was simply mise- rable. Weak, vacillating, capricious, selfish, it is no won- der one of the French officers, stung to madness by his inexplicable pusillanimity and disgraceful bungling, should have exclaimed aloud to him : " Sire, if you had a hundred kingdoms, you would lose them all". A like sentiment found utterance in the memorable words of an Irish officer when brought a prisoner after the battle into the presence of the Williamite council of war: '^Exchange commanders with us, gentlema n, and even with all the other odds against us, we Jiyht the battle over again''. But now the die was cast. The resolve, on James's part most falteringly taken,* was fixed at last. Uncle and nephew, sovereign and invader, were to put their quarrel to the issue of a battle on the morrow. * Even when the whole of such arrangements and dispositions for battle as he (after innumerable vacillations) had ordered, had been made, James, at the last moment, on the very eve of battle, once again capriciously changed his mind, said he would fall back to Dublin, and actually sent off thither on the moment the bag- gage, together with six of the twelve cannon which constituted his entire artillery, and some portion of his troops ! Then, again, after these had gone off beyond recal, he as capriciously changod his mind once more, and resolved to await battle then and there at the Loyne I 4U THE STORY OF IRELAND. LXIY. — " BEFORE THE BATTLE*', ARL Y on the morn- ing of the 30th June, 1690, Wil- liam's army ap- proached the Boyne in three divisions. Such was his impatience to behold the enemy he was to fight, and the ground they had taken up, that by the time the advanced guard was with- in view of the Jacobite camp, he was in front of them, having ridden forward from the head of his own division. Then it was that he beheld a sight which, yet unstirred by soldier shout or cannon shot, unstained by blood or death, might well gladden the heart of him who gazed, and warm with its glorious beauties even a colder nature than his I He stood upon a height, and beheld beneath him and beyond him, with the clearness of a map and the gorgeous THE STORY OF IRELAND. 415 beauty of a dream, a view as beautiful as the eye can scan. Doubly beautiful it was then ; because the colours of a golden harvest were blended with green fields and greener trees, and a sweet river flowing calmly on in winding beauty through a valley whose banks rose gently from its waters, until in lofty hills they touched the opposite horizon, bending and undulating into forms of beauty". * "To the south-east, the steeples and castle of Drogheda, from which floated the flags of James and Louis, appeared in the mid-distance; whilst seaward might be seen the splen- did fleet which attended the motions of the Williamite army. But of more interest to the phlegmatic but ex- perienced commander, whose eagle eye now wandered over the enchanting panorama, were the lines of white tents, the waving banners, and moving bodies of troops, which, to the south-west, between the river and Donore Hill, in- dicated the position of James's camp".j- Having viewed the ground carefully, William selected the Oldbridge fords for the principal attack, and fixed upon sites for batteries to command the opposite or Jacobite bank. He then rode a short way up the river, and alighted to take some refreshment. On his return he was fired upon by some field pieces at the other side of the river, the first shot striking to the earth one of the group beside the prince. A second shot followed; the ball struck the river bank, glanced upwards, and wounded William slightly. He sank upon his horse's neck, and a shout of exultation burst from the Irish camp, where it was believed he was killed. He was not much hurt, however, and rode amongst his own lines to assure his troops of his safety ; and shouts of triumph and defiance from the Williamite ranks soon apprised the Irish of their error. That night — that anxious night ! — was devoted by Wil- liam to the most careful planning and arrangement for the morrow's strife. But ere we notice these plans or ap- * Williamite and Jacobite Wars in Ireland, by Dr. Cane, t The Harp for March, 1859 ; The " Battle of the Boyne", by M. J. M'Cann. 416 THE STORY OF IRELAND. preach that struggle, it may be well to describe for young readers with all possible simplicity the battlefield of the Boyne, and the nature of the military operations of which it was the scene. The Boyne enters the Irish sea a mile or more to the east of Drogheda, but for a mile or two above or to the west of that town, the sea-tides reach and rise and fall in the river. Two miles and a half up the river from Dro- gheda, on the southern bank, is the little village of Old- bridge. About five miles in a direct line due west of Old- bridge (but considerably more by the curve of the river, which between these points bends deeply southward), stands the town of Slane on the northern bank. The ground rises rather rapidly from the river at Oldbridge, sloping backwards, or southwards, about a mile, to the hill of Donore, on the crest of which stand a little ruined church (it was a ruin even in 1690) and a grave-yard; three miles and a-half further southward than Donore, on the road to Dublin from Oldbridge, stands Duleek. James's camp was pitched on the northern slopes of Donore, looking down upon the river at Oldbridge. James himself slept and had his headquarters in the little ruined church already mentioned. Directly opposite to Oldbridge, on the northern side of the river, the ground, as on the south side, rises rather ab- ruptly, sloping backward, forming a hill called Tullyallen. This hill is intersected by a ravine north and south, lead- ing down to the river, its mouth on the northern brink being directly opposite to Oldbridge. The ravine is now called King William's Glen. On and behind Tullyallen Hill, William's camp was pitched, looking southwards, to- wards, but not altogether in si^ht of James's, on the other side of the river. At this time of the year, July, the Boyne was fordable at several places up the river towards Slane. The easiest fords, however, were at Oldbridge, where, when the sea- tide was at lowest ebb, the water was not three feet deep. To force these fords, or some of them, was William's task. To defend them, was James's endeavour. . The main difficulty in crossing a ford in the face of an THE STORY OF IRELAND. 417 opposing army, is that the enemy almost invariably has batteries to play on the for5 held to consider the point. After a hot and bitter disputation, a resolution, at first laughed at by the majority, was adopted — namely, to try THE SluKY OF IRELAND. 453 that very evening^ nay that very hour, s> sudden dash across the riyer hy the fords, as (it was rightly conjectured) the Irish would now be off their guard. As a last refuge from disgrace, Ginckle resolved to try this chance. •Towards six o'clock the Irish officer on guard on the Athlone side, sent word to the General (St. Euth) that he thought there was something up on the opposite bank, and begging some detachments to be sent in, as only a few companies had been left in the town. St. Ruth re- plied by 2 sharp and testy remark, reflecting on the cour- age of the officer, to the effect, that he was frightened by fancy. By the time this hurtful answer reached him, the officer saw enough to convince him that infallibly an assault was about to be made, and he sent with all speed to the camp entreating the general to credit the fact. St. Ruth replied by saying that if the officer in charge was afraid of such attacks, he might turn over the command to another. Sarsfield was present at this last reply, and he at once judged the whole situation correctly. He im- plored St. Ruth not to treat so lightly a report so grave from an officer of undoubted bravery. The Frenchman — courageous, energetic, and highly-gifted as he unquestion- ably was — unfortunately was short-tempered, imperious, and vain. He and Sarsfield exchanged hot and angry words ; St. Ruth resenting Sarsfield's interference, and intimating that the latter henceforth should know his place". While yet this fatal altercation was proceeding, an aid de camp galloped up all breathless from the town — the English were across the river and into the defences of Athlone ! Even now St. Ruth's overweening self-confi- dence would not yield. Then let us drive them back again", was his answer, at the same time directing troops to hurry forward for that purpose. But it was too late. The lodgment had been made in force. The English were now in the defences. The walls of the town on the camp side had been left standings and only a siege could now dispossess the new occupants. Athlone was lost 1* * Amongst the slain on the Irish side in this siege was the glorious old veteran, Colonel Richard Graces who was governor the preceding 454 THE STORY OF IRELAND. LXXI. " THE CULLODEN OF IRELAND". HOW AUGHRIM WAS FOUGHT AND LOST. A STORY OF THE BATTLE-FIELD ; "THE DOG OP AUGHRIM*', OR, FIDELITY IN DEATH 1 accountable for the loss T. RUTH feU back to Ballinasloe, on Ginckle's road to Galway, which city was now held by the Irish, and ■f^^ was in truth one ^ of their most im- I portant possessions. The Frenchman was a prey to conscious guilty feelincr. He knew that Sarsfield held him Athlone, and his pride was year. His great age— he was now nearly ninety years of age— caused him to be relieved of such a laborious position in this siege, but nothing could induce him to seek, either in retirement or in less ex- posed and dangerous duty, that quiet which all his compeers felt to be the old man's right. He would insist on remaining in the thickest of the fighting, and he died " his harness on his back". He was onv* cf tb''^ most glorious characters to be met \v\th. in Irish history. The erudite author of the Green jBoo^ supplies a deer»lv interesting sketch of his life and career. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 455 painfully mortified. How often do dire eyents-from trivial causes spring I This estrangement between St. Euth and Sarsfield was fated to affect the destinies of Ireland, for to it may be traced the loss of the battle of Aughrim, as we shall see. At a council of war in the Irish camp it was at first re- solved to give battle in the strong position which the army had now taken up, but St. Euth mo\ed off to Aughrim, about three miles distant, on the road to Galway. The new position was not less strong than that which had just been quitted. In truth its selection, and the uses to which St. Euth turned each and all of its natural advantages, showed him to be a man of consmnmate ability. Close to the little village of Aughrim — destined to give name to the last great battle between Catholic and Pro- testant royalty on the soil of Ireland — is the Hill of Kil- commedan. The hill slopes gradually and smoothly up- ward to a height of about three hundred feet from its base, running lengthways for about two miles from north to south. On its east side or slope, looking towards the way by which Ginckle must approach on his march westward to Galway, the Irish army was encamped, having on its right flank the pass or causeway of Urrachree, and its left flank resting on the village of Aughrim. A large morass lay at foot of Kilcommedan (on the east, sweep- ing round the northern end of the hill) which might be crossed in summer by footmen, but was impracticable for cavalry. Through its centre, from south to north, ran a little stream, which with winter rains flooded all the surrounding marsh. Two narrow causeways, passes", or roads, ran across the morass to the hill ; one at Urrachree, the other at the town of Aughrim ; the latter one being defended or commanded by an old ruin, Aughrim Castle, at the hill base.* Along the slopes of the hill, parallel with its base, ran two or three lines of * The most intelligible, if not the only intelligible, descriptions of this battle-fi'tfia are those of Mr. M. J. M'Cann, in the Harp for June, 1853 ; and in a workrecently issued in America, Battle- fields 45e THE STORY OF IRELAND. whitethorn hedge-rows, growing out of thick earth fences, affording admirable position and protection for musketeers. It may be questioned if the genius of a Wellington could have devised or directed aught that St. Euth had not done to turn every feature of the ground and every inch of this position to advantage. Yet by one sin of omission he placed all the fortunes of the day on the hazard of his own life ; he communicated his plan of battle to no one, Sars- field was the man next entitled and fitted to command, in the event of anything befalling the general; yet he in particular was kept from any knowledge of the tactics or strategy upon which the battle was to turn. Indeed he was posted at a point critical and important enough in some senses, yet away from, and out of sight of the part of the field where the main struggle was to take place ; and St. Ruth rather hurtfully gave him imperative instruc- tions not to stir from the position thus assigned him, with- out a written order from himself. At Aughrim", says an intelligent Protestant literary periodical, " three apparent accidents gave the victory to Ginckle. The musketeers defending the pass at the old castle found; themselves supplied with cannon balls instead of bullets ; the flank movement of a regiment was mistaken for a retreat ; and St. Ruth lost his life by a cannon shot".* The last men- tioned, which was really the accident that wrested un- doubted victory from the Irish grasp, would have had no such disastrous result had St. Ruth confided his plan of battle to his lieutenant-general, and taken him heartily and thoroughly into joint command on the field. I know of no account of this battle, which, within the same space, exhibits so much completeness, clearness, and simplicity of narration, as Mr. Haverty's, which accordingly I here borrow with very little abridg- ment : — of Ireland, unquestionably the most attractive and faithful narra- tive hitherto published of the Jacobite struggle. • Dublin University Magazine for February, 1867. — " Some Epi- Bodes of the Irish Jacobite Wars". THE STORY OF IRELAND. 457 " The advanced guards of the Willi amites came in sight of the Irish on the 11th of July, and the following morn- ing, which was Sunday, 12th of July, 1691, while the Irish army was assisting at mass, the whole force of the enemy drew up in line of battle on the high ground to the east beyond the morass. As nearly as the strength of the two armies can be estimated, that of the Irish was about fifteen thousand horse and foot, and that of the Williamites from twenty to twenty-five thousand, the latter having besides a numerous artillery, while the Irish had but nine field pieces. " Ginckle, knowing his own great superiority in artillery, hoped by the aid of that arm alone to dislodge the Irish centre force from their advantageous ground; and as quickly as his guns could be brought into position, he opened fire upon the enemy. He also directed some cavalry movements on his left at the pass of Urraghree, but with strict orders that the Irish should not be followed beyond the ^ pass', lest any fighting there should force on a general engagement, for which he had not then made up his mind. His orders on this point, however, were not punctually obeyed ; the consequence being some hot skir- mishing, which brought larger bodies into action, until about three o'clock, when the Williamites retired from the pass. " Ginckle now held a council of war, and the prevalent opinion seemed to be that the attack should be deferred until an early hour next morning, but the final decision of the council was for an immediate battle. At five o'clock accordingly, the attack was renewed at Urraghree, and for an hour and a half there was considerable fighting in that quarter ; several attempts to force the pass having been made in the interval, and the Irish cavalry continu- ing to maintain their ground gallantly, although against double their numbers. At length, at half-past six, Ginckle, having previously caused the morass in front of the Irish centre to be sounded, ordered his infantry to advance on the point where the line of the fences at the Irish sid© projected most into the marsh, and where the morass was, conse- 453 THE STORY OF IRELANl). quently, narrowest. This, it appears, was in the Irish right centre, or in the direction of Urraghree. The four regiments of colonels Erie, Herbert, Creighton, and Brewer, were the first to wade through the mud and water, and to advance against the nearest of the hedges, where they were received with a smart fire by the Irish, who then re- tired behind their next line of hedges, to which the assail- ants in their turn approached. The Williamite infantry were thus gradually drawn from one line of fences to another, up the slope from the morass, to a greater dis- tance than was contemplated in the plan of attack, ac- cording to which they were to hold their ground near the morass until they could be supported by reinforcements of infantry in the rear, and by cavalry on the flanks. The Irish retired by such short distances, that the Williamites pursued what they considered to be an advantage, until they found themselves face to face with the main line of the Irish, who now charged them in front ; while by pas- sages cut specially for such a purpose through the line of hedges by St. Ruth, the Irish cavalry rushed down with irresistible force and attacked them in the flanks. The effect was instantaneous. In vain did Colonel Erie en- deavour to encourage his men by crying out that ' there was no way to come off but to be brave'. They were thrown into total disorder, and fled towards the morass, the Irish cavalry cutting them down in the rear, and the infantry pouring in a deadly fire, until they were driven beyond the quagmire, which separated iiie two armies. Colonels Erie and Herbert were taken prisoners ; but the former, after being taken and retaken, and receiving some wounds, was finally rescued. Whilst this was going forward towards the Irish right, several other Williamite regiments crossed the bog nearer to Aughrim, and were in like manner repulsed ; but, not having ventured among the Irish hedges, their loss was lot so considerable, although they were pursued so far in their retreat, that the Irish, says Story, ^ got almost in a line with some of our great guns', or, in other words, had advanced into the English battle-ground. It was no wonder that at this moment St. Ruth should have eX- THE STORY OF IRELAND. 459 claimed with national enthusiasm, 'The day is ours, mes enfant s f " The manoeuvres of the Dutch general on the other side evinced consummate ability, and the peril of his present position obliged him to make desperate efforts to retrieve it. His army being much more numerous than that of the Irish, he could afford to extend his left wing considerably beyond their right, and this causing a fear that he in- tended to flank them at that side, St. Euth ordered the second line of his left to march to the right, the officer who received the instructions taking with him also a bat- talion from the centre, which left a weak point not unob- served by the enemy. St. Ruth had a fatal confidence in the fiatural strength of his left, owing to the great extent of bog, and the extreme narrowness of the causeway near Aughrim Castle. The Williamite commander perceived this confidence, and resolved to take advantage of it. Hence his movement at the opposite extremity of his line, which was a mere feint, the troops which he sent to his left not firing a shot during the day, while some of the best regiments of the Irish were drawn away to watch them. The point of weakening the Irish left having been thus gained, the object of doing so soon became apparent. A movement of the Williamite cavalry to the causeway at Aughrim was observed. Some horsemen were seen cross- ing the narrow part of the causeway with great difficulty, being scarcely able to ride two abreast. St. Ruth still believed that pass impregnable, as indeed it would have been, but for the mischances which we have yet to men- tion, and he is reported to have exclaimed, when he saw the enemy's cavalry scrambling over it, * They are brave fellows, 't is a pity they should be so exposed'. They were not, however, so exposed to destruction as he then imagined. Artillery had come to their aid, and as the men crossed, they began to form in squadrons on the firm ground near the old castle. What were the garrison of the castle doing at this time ? and what the reserve of cavalry beyond the castle to the extreme left? As to the former, an unlucky circumstance rendered their efforts nugatory. It was found on examining the ammunition 460 THE STOE,Y OF IRELAND. with wMcli they had been supplied, that while the men were armed with French firelocks, the balls that had been served to them were cast for English muskets, of which the calibre was larger, and that they were consequently useless I In this emergency the men cut the small glo- bular buttons from their jackets, and used them for bullets, but their fire was ineffective, however briskly it was sus- tained, and few of the enemy's horse crossing the cause- way were hit. This was but one of the mischances con- nected with the unhappy left of St. Ruth's position. We have seen how an Irish officer, when ordered with reserves to the right wing, removed a battalion from the left centre. This error* was immediately followed by the crossing of the morass at that weakened point by three Williamite regiments, who employed hurdles to facilitate their pas- sage, and who, meeting with a comparatively feeble resis- tance at the front line of fences, succeeded in making a lodgment in a corn field on the Irish side". It was, however — as the historian just quoted remarks in continuation — still very easy to remedy the effects of these errors or mishaps thus momentarily threatening to render questionable the victory already substantially won by the Irish ; and St. Ruth, for the purpose of so doing — and, in fact, delivering the coup de grace to the beaten foe — left his position of observation in front of the camp on the crest of the ;hill, and, placing himself in joyous pride at the head of a cavalry brigade, hastened down the slope to charge the confused bodies of Williamite horse gaining a foot-hold below. Those who saw him at this moment say that his face was aglow with enthusiasm and triumph. He had, as he thought, at last vindicated his name and fame ; he had shown what St. Ruth could do. And, indeed, never for an instant had he doubted the re- sult of this battle, or anticipated for it any other issue than a victory. He had attired himself, we are told, in his * Many Irish authorities assert it was no " error", but downright treason. The officer who perpetrated it being the traitor Luttrel, subsequently discovered to have long been working out the betrayal of the cause. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 461 most gorgeous uniform, wearmg all his decorations and costly ornaments, and constantly told those around him that he was to-day about to win a battle that would wrest Ireland from William's grasp. About half-way down the hill he halted a moment to give some directions to the ar- tillerymen at one of the field batteries. Then, drawing his sword, and giving the word to advance for a charge, he exclaimed to his officers: " They are beaten, gentle- men ; let us drive them back to the gates of Dublin". With a cheer, rising above the roar of the artillery — which, from the other side, was playing furiously on this decisive Irish advance — the squadron made reply; when, suddenly, louder still, at its close, there arose a cry — a shriek — from some one near the general. All eyes were turned upon the spot, and for an instant many failed to discern the cause for such a startling utterance. There sat the glittering uniformed figure upon his charger. It needed, with some, a second glance to detect the horrible catas- trophe that had befallen. There sat the body of St. Ruth indeed, but it was his lifeless corpse — a headless trunk. A cannon shot from the Williamite batteries had struck the head from his body, as if the Tyburn axe and block had done their fearful work. St. Euth, the vain, the brave, was no more I The staff crowded around the fallen commander in sad dismay. The brigade itself, ignorant at first of the true nature of what happened, but conscious that some serious disaster had occurred, halted in confusion. Indecision and confusion in the face of the enemy, and under fire of his batteries, has ever but one result. The brigade broke, and rode to the right. No one knew on whom the com- mand devolved. Sarsfield was next in rank ; but every one knew him to be posted at a distant part of the field, and it was unhappily notorious that he had not been made acquainted with any of the lost general's plan. This in- decision and confusion was not long spreading from the cavalry brigade which St. Ruth had been leading to other bodies of the troops. The Williamites plainly perceived that something fatal had happened on the Irish side, which, if taken advantage of promptly, might give them 462 THE STORY OF IRELAND. Victory in the very moment of defeat. They halted, ral- lied, and returned. A general attack in full force on all points was ordered. " Still the Irish centre and right wing maintained their ground obstinately, and the fight was renewed with as much vigour as ever. The Irish infantry were so hotly engaged, that they were not aware either of the death of St. Ruth, or of the flight of the cavalry, until they themselves were almost surrounded. A panic and confused flight were the result. The cavalry of the right wing, who were the first in action that day, were the last to quit their ground. Sarsfield, with the reserve horse of the centre, had to retire with the rest without striking one blow, ^ although', says the Williamite captain Parker, * he had the greatest and best part of the cavalry with him'. St. Ruth fell about sunset ; and about nine, after three hours' hard fighting, the last of the Irish army had left the field. The cavalry retreated along the high road to Loughrea, and the infantry, who mostly flung away their arms, fled to a large red bog on their left, where great numbers of them were massacred unarmed and in cold blood; but a thick misty rain coming on, and the night setting in, the pursuit was soon relin- quished". The peasantry to this day point out a small gorge on the hill side, still called Gleann-na-Fola",* where two of the Irigh regiments, deeming flight vain, or scorning to fly, halted, and throughout the night waited their doom in sullen determination. There they were found in the morning, and were slaughtered to a man. The slogan of the conqueror was: " No quarter". f * The Glen of Slaughter.—The Bloody Glen. t Moore, who seems to have been powerfully affected by the whole story of Aughrim — " the CuUoden of Ireland" — is said to have found in this mournful tragedy the subject of his exquisite song "After the Battle":— Night closed around the conqueror's way, And lightning showed the distant hill, Where those who lost that dreadful day Stood few and faint — but fearless still THE STORY OF IRELAND. Above five hundred prisoners, with thirty-two pairs of colours, eleven standards, and a large quantity of small arms, fell into the hands of the victors. The English loss in killed and wounded was about three thousand ; the Irish lost over four thousand, chiefly in the flight, as the Williamites gave no quarter, and the wounded, if they were not, in comparative mercy, shot as they lay on the field, were allowed to perish unfriended where they fell. To the music of one of the most plaintive of our Irish melodies — The Lamentation of Aughrim" — Moore (a second time touched by this sad theme) has wedded the well-known verses here quoted :— Forget not the field where they perished— The truest, the last of the brave ; All gone — and the bright hopes we cherished Gone with them, and quenched in the grave. Oh ! could we from death but recover Those hearts as they bounded before, In the face of high Heaven to fight over The combat for freedom once more ; Could the chain for a moment be riven Which Tyranny flung round us then — No ! — 't is not in Man, nor in Heaven, To let Tyranny bind it again ! But 't is past ; and though blazoned in story The name of our victor may be ; Accurst is the march of that glory Which treads o'er the hearts of the free I The soldier's hope— the patriot's zeal, For ever dimmed, for ever crossed 1 Oh ! who can say what heroes feel When aU but life and honour 's lost ! The last sad hour of freedom's dream And valour's task moved slowly by ; And mute they watched till morning's beam Should rise and give them light to die ! There 's yet a world where souls are free, Where tyrants taint not nature's bliss : If death that world's bright op'ning be^ Oh ! who would live a slave in this ? 464 THE STOlvV OF IRKLAND. Far dearer the grave or the prison Illumed by one patriot name, Than the trophies of all who have risen On Liberty's ruins to fame ! We cannot take leave of the field of Aughrim and pass unnoticed an episode connected with that scene which may well claim a place in history ; a true story, which, if it rested on any other authority than that of the hostile and unsympathizing Williamite chaplain, might be deemed either the creation of poetic fancy or the warmly tinged picture of exaggerated fact. The bodies of the fallen Irish, as already mentioned, were for the most part left unburied on the ground, a prey to the birds of the air and the beasts of the field". " There is", says the Williamite chronicler, a true and remarkabk story of a grayho md,* belonging to an Irish ofScer. The gentleman was killed and stripped in the battle,! whose body the dog remained by night and day ; and though he fed upon other corpses with the rest of the dogs, yet he would not allow them or anything else to touch that of his master. When all the corpses were con- sumed, the other dogs departed ; but this one used to go in the night to the adjacent villages for food, and pre- sently return to the place where his master's bones only were then left. And thus he continued (from July when the battle was fought) till January following, when one of Colonel Foulkes's soldiers, being quartered nigh hand, and going that way by chance, the dog fearing he came to disturb his master^ s hones, flew upon the soldier, who, being surprised at the suddenness of the thing, unslung his piece then upon his back, and shot the poor dog". J He expired", adds Mr. O'Callaghan, " with the same fidelity to the remains of his unfortunate master, as that master * It was a wolf-hound or wolf-dog. t Meaning to say, killed in the battle and stripped after it by the Williamite camp-followers, with whom -stripping and robbing the slain was a common practice. They did not spare even the corpse of then- own Ueutenant- colonel, the Right Rev. Dr. Walker, Protes- tant Bishop of Derry, which they stripped naked at the Boyne. t Story's Cont. Imp. Hist, p. 147. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 465 had shown devotion to the cause of his unhappy country. In the history of nations there are few spectacles more entitled to the admiration of the noble mind and the sym- pathy of the generous and feeling heart, than the fate of the gallant men and the faithful dog of Aughrim".* LXII. HOW GLORIOUS LIMERCK ONCE MORE BRAVED THE ORDEAL. HOW AT LENGTH A TREATY AND CAPITULATION WAS AGREED UPON. HOW SARSFIELD AND THE IRISH ARMY SAILED INTO EXILE. ALWAY surrendered on favourable terms ten days after the battle. Sligo also, the last western garrison, succumbed soon after, and its governor, the brave Sir Teige O'Eegan, the hero of Charlemont, marched his six hundred survivors southward to Limerick". Thus once more all eyes and hearts in the British Islands were turned towards the well-known city of the lower Shannon". f On the 25th of August, Ginckle, reinforced by all the troops he could gather in with safety, invested the place on three sides. It appears he had powers, and indeed urgent directions, from William long previously, to let no hesitation in granting favourable terms keep him from ending the war, if it could be ended by such means, and it IS said he apprehended serious censure for not having proclaimed such dispositions before he assaulted Athlone. He now resolved to use without stint the powers given to him, in the anxious hope of thereby averting the necessity of trying to succeed where William himself had failed— < beneath the unconquered walls of Limerick. Accordingly, a proclamation was issued by Ginckle, offering a full and free pardon of all treasons" (so-called — meaning thereby loyalty to the king, and resistance of the foreign emissaries), with restoration for all to their * Green Book, p. 459, t M'Gee. 30 466 THE STORY OF IRELAND, estates forfeited" by such treason", and employment in his majesty's service for all who would accept it, if the. Irish army would abandon the war. It is not to be wondered at that this proclamation developed on the instant a " peace party" within the Irish lines. Not even the most sanguine could now hope to snatch the crown from William's head, and replace it on that of the fugitive James. For what object, therefore, if not simply to secure honourable terms, should they pro- long the struggle ? And did not this proclamation afford a fair and reasonable basis for negotiation ? The Anglo- Irish Catholic nobles and gentry, whose estates were thus offered to he secured to them, may well be pardoned, if they exhibited weakness at this stage. To battle further was, in their judgment, to peril all for a shadow. Nevertheless, the national party, led by Sarsfield, pre- vailed, and Ginckle's summons to surrender was courteously but firmly refused. Once more glorious Limerick was to brave the fiery ordeal. Sixty guns, none of less than twelve pounds calibre, opended their deadly fire against it. An English fleet ascended the river, hurling its missiles right and left. Bombardment by land and water showered destruction upon the city — in vain I Ginckle now gave up all hope of reducing the place by assault, and resolved to turn the siege into a blockade. Starvation must, in time, effect what fire and sword had so often and so vainly tried to accomplish. The treason of an Anglo-Irish officer long suspected, Luttrell, betrayed to Ginckle the pass over the Shannon above the city ; and one morning the Irish, to their horror, beheld the foe upon the Clare side of the river. Ginckle again offered to grant almost any terms, if the city would but capitulate ; for even still he judged it rather a forlorn chance to await its capture. The an- nouncement of this offer placed further resistance out of the question. It was plain there was a party within the walls so impressed with the madness of refusing such terms, that, any moment, they might, of themselves, attempt to hand over the city. Accordingly, on the 23rd September (1691) — after a day of bloody struggle from early dawn — the Irish gave THE STORY OP IRELAND. 467 the signal for a parley, and a cessation of arms took place. ^ Favourable as were the terms offered, and even though Sarsfield now assented to accepting them, the news that the struggle was to be ended, was received by the soldiers and citizens with loud and bitter grief. They ran to the ramparts, from which they so often had hurled the foe, and broke their swords in pieces. " Muskets that had scattered fire and death amidst the British grenadiers, were broken in a frenzy of desperation, and the tough shafts of pikes that had resisted William's choicest cavalry, crashed across the knees of maddened rapparees". The citizens, too, ran to the walls, with the arms they had treasured proudly as mementoes of the last year's glorious struggle, and shivered them into frag- ments, exclaiming with husky voices : " We need them now no longer. Ireland is no moreT On the 26th September the negotiations were opened, hostages were exchanged, and Sarsfield and Major-General Wauchop dined with Ginckle in the English camp. The terms of capitulation were settled soon after ; but the Irish, happily — resolved to leave no pretext for subse- quent repudiation of Ginckle's treaty, even though he showed them his formal powers — demanded that the lords justices should come down from Dublin and ratify the articles. This was done ; and on the 3rd of October, 1691, the several contracting parties met in full state at a spot on the Clare side of the river, to sign and exchange the treaty. That memorable spot is marked by a large stone, which remains to this day, proudly guarded and preserved by the people of that city, for whom it is a monument more glorious than the Titan arch for Eome. The visitor who seeks it on the Shannon side, needs but to name the object of his search, when a hundred eager volunteers, their faces all radiant with pride, will point him out that memorial of Irish honour and heroism, that silent witness of English iToih.— punica fides — the " Treaty Stone of Limerick". The treaty consisted of military articles, or clauses, twenty-nine in number ; and civil articles, thirteen. Set out in all the formal and precise language of the original 468 THE STORY OF IRELAND, document, those forty-two articles would occupy a great space. They were substantially as follows : The military articles provided that all persons willing to expatriate themselves, as well officers and soldiers, as rapparees and volunteers, should have free liberty to do so, to any place beyond seas, except England and Scotland ; that they might depart in whole bodies, companies, or parties ; that, if plundered by the way, William's government should make good their loss ; that fifty ships, of two hundred tons each, should be provided for their transportation, besides two men-of-war for the principal officers ; that the garrison of Limerick might march out with all their arms, guns, and baggage, colours flying, drums beating, and matches lighting ! The garrison of Limerick, moreover, were to be at liberty to take away any six brass guns they might choose, with two mortars, and half the ammunition in the place. It was also agreed that those who so wished might enter the service of William, retaining their rank and pay. " The civil articles were thirteen in number. Article L guaranteed to members of that denomination remaining in the kingdom, * such privileges in the exercise of their reli- gion as are consistent with the law of Ireland, or as they enjoyed in the reign of King Charles the Second' ; this article further provided that, ^ their majesties, as soon as their affairs will permit them to summon a parliament in this kingdom, will endeavour the said Eoman Catholics such further security in that particular as may preserve them from any disturbance' ". Article II. guaranteed pardon and protection to all who had served king James, on taking the oath of allegiance prescribed in Article IX., as follows : — " I, A. B., do solemnly promise and swear that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to their majesties, King William and Queen Mary ; so help me God". Articles III., IV., Y., and YL, extended the provisions of Articles I. and II. to merchants and other classes of men. Article YIL pennits " every nobleman and gentle- man compromised in the said articles" to carry side arms, and keep " a gun in their houses". Article YIII. gives THE STORY OF IRELAND. 469 the right of removing goods and chattels without search. Article IX. is as follows : — The oath to be administered to such Roman Catholics as submit to their majesties' government shall be the oath aforesaid, and no other". Article X. guarantees that " no person or persons who shall hereafter break these articles, or any of them, shall thereby make or cause any other person or persons to for- feit or lose the benefit of them". Articles XI. and XII. relate to the ratification of the articles within eight months or sooner". Article XIII. refers to the debts of Colonel John Brown, commissary of the Irish army, to several Protestants", and arranges for their satisfac- tion. On the morning of the 5th of October, 1691, a singular scene was witnessed on the northern shore of the Shannon, beyond the city walls. On that day the Irish regiments were to make their choice between exile for life, or service in the armies of their conqueror. At each end of a gently rising ground beyond the suburbs, were planted on one side the royal standard of France, and on the other that of England. It was agreed that the regiments, as they marched out — with all the honours of war ; drums beat- ing, colours flying, and matches lighting" — should, on reaching this spot, wheel to the left or to the right beneath that flag under which they elected to -serve. At the head of the Irish marched the foot guards — the finest regiment in the service — fourteen hundred strong. All eyes were fixed on this splendid body of men. On they came, amidst breathless silence and acute suspense ; for well both the English and Irish generals knew that the choice of the first regiment would powerfully influence all the rest. The guards marched up to the critical spot and — in a body wheeled to the colours of France ; barely seven men turn- ing to the English side! Ginckle, we are told, was greatly agitated as he witnessed the proceeding. The next regi- ment, however (Lord Iveagh's), marched as unanimously to the Williamite banner, as did also portions of two others. But the bulk of the Irish army defiled under the Fleur de 470 THE STORY OF IRELAND. lis of king Louis ; only one thousand and forty-six, out of nearly fourteen thousand men, preferring the service of England ! A few days afterwards a French fleet sailed up the Shannon with an aiding army, and bringing money, arms, ammunition, stores, food, and clothing ! Ginckle, affrighted, Imagined the Irish would now disclaim the articles, and renew the war. But it was not the Irish who were to break the Treaty of Limerick. Sarsfield, when told that a power- ful fleet was sailing up the river, seemed stunned by the news ! He was silent for a moment, and then, in mourn- ful accents, replied: Too late. The treaty is signed; our honour is pkd^ed — the honour of Ireland. Though a hundred thousand Frenchmen offered to aid us now, we must keep our plighted troth He forbade the expedition to land, with a scrupulous sense of honour contending that the spirit if not the letter of the capitulation extended to any such arrival ! The French ships, accordingly, were used only to transport to France the Irish army that had volunteered for foreign service. Sol- diers and civilians, nobles, gentry, and clergy, there sailed in all nineteen thousand and twenty-five persons. Most of the officers, like their illustrious leader, Sarsfield,* gave up fortune, family, home, and friends, refusing the most tempting offers from William, whose anxiety to enrol them in his own service was earnestly and perseveringly pressed upon them to the last. Hard was their choice ; great was the sacrifice. Full of anguish was that parting, whose sorrowful spirit has been so faithfully expressed by Mr. Aubrey de Vere, in the following simple and touching verses — the soliloquy of a brigade soldier sailing away from Limerick : — I snatched a stone from the bloodied brook, And hurled it at my household door ! No farewell of my love I took : I shall see my friend no more. * His patrimonial estates near Lucan, county Dublin, were, even ^t that day, worth nearly three thousand abounds per annum. IHB STORY OP IRELAND* 471 I dashed across the church-yard bound : I knelt not by my parents' grave : There rang from my heart a clarion's sound, That summoned me o'er the wave. No land to me can native be That strangers trample, and tyrants stain: Wlien the valleys I loved are cleansed and free, They are mine, they are mine again ! Till then, in sunshine or sunless weather. By Seine and Loire, and the broad Garonne My war-horse and I roam on together Wherever God will. On ! on ! These were not wholly lost to Ireland, though not a man of them ever saw Ireland more. They served her abroad when they could no longer strike for her at home. They made her sad yet glorious story familiar in the courts of Christendom. They made her valour felt and respected on the battle fields of Europe. And as they had not quitted her soil until they exacted terms from the con- queror, which, if observed, might have been for her a charter of protection, so did they in their exile take a terrible vengeance upon that conqueror for his foul and treache- rous violation of that treaty. No ! These men were not, in all, lost to Ireland. Their deeds are the proudest in her story. History may parallel, but it can adduce nothing to surpass, the chivalrous devo- tion of the men who comprised this second great armed migration of Irish valour, faith, and patriotism. 472 THE STORY OF IRELAND. LXIII. HOW THE TREATY OF LIMERICK WAS BROKEN AND TRAMPLED UNDER FOOT BY THE PROTESTANT INTEREST", YELLING FOR MORE PLUNDER AND MORE PERSECUTION. v» >a HERE is no more bitter memory in the Irish kS^^:^^ breast, than that which tells how the Treaty of Limerick was violated ; and there is not pro- bably on record a breach of public faith more nakedly and confessedly infamous than was that violation. None of this damning blot touches William — now king de facto of the two islands. He did his part ; and the truthful historian is bound on good evi- dence to assume for him that he saw with indignation and disgust the shameless and dastardly breach of that treaty by the dominant and all-powerful Protestant faction. We have seen how the lords justices came down from Dublin and approved and signed the treaty at Limerick.* The king bound public faith to it still more firmly, formally, and solemnly, by the issue of royal letters patent confir- matory of all its articles, issued from Westminster, 24th February, 1692, in the name of himself and queen Mary. We shall now see how this treaty was kept towards the L'ish Catholics. The ^' Protestant interest" of Ireland, as they called themselves, no sooner found the last of the Irish regiments shipped from the Shannon, than they openly announced ^ Here it may be well to note an occurrence which some writers regard as a deliberate and foul attempt to overreach and trick Sars- field in the treaty, but which might, after all, have been accident. The day after the treaty was signed in "fair copy", it was discovered that one line — containing however one of the most important stipula- tions in the entire treaty — had been omitted in the " fair copy" by the Williamites, though duly set out in the first draft" signed by both parties. The instant it was discovered, Sarsfield called on Ginckle to answer for it. The latter, and all the Williamite " con- tracting parties", declared the omission purely accidental — inserted the line in its right place, and, by a supplemental agreement, solemnly covenanted that this identical line should have a special confirma- tion from the king and parUament. The king honourably did so. The parliament tore it into shreds ! THE STORY GF IRELAND. 473 that the treaty would not, and ought not to be kept ! It was the old story. Whenever the English sovereign or government desired to pause in the work of persecution and plunder, if not to treat the native Irish in a spirit of conciliation or justice, the colony", the ^'plantation", the garrison, the " Protestant interest", screamed in frantic resistance. It was so in the reign of James the First ; it was so in the reign of Charles the First ; it was so in the reign of Charles the Second ; it was so in the reign of James the Second ; it was so in the reign of William and Mary. Any attempt of king or government to mete to the native Catholic population of Ireland any measure of treat- ment save what the robber and murderer metes out to his helpless victim, was denounced — absolutely complained of — as a daring wrong and grievance against what was, and is still, called the " Protestant interest", or '' our glorious rights and liberties".* Indeed, no sooner had the lords justices returned from Limerick, than the Protestant pul- pits commenced to resound with denunciations of those who would observe the treaty ; and Dopping, titular Pro- testant bishop of Meath, as Protestant historians record, preached before the lords justices themselves a notable sermon on " the crime of keeping faith with Papists". The " Protestant interest" party saw with indignation that the king meant to keep faith with the capitulated Catholics ; nay, possibly to consolidate the country by a comparatively conciliatory, just, and generous policy ; which was, they contended, monstrous. It quickly occur- red to them, however, that as they were sure to be a strong majority in the parliament, they could take into their own hands the work of " reconstruction", when they might freely wreak their will on the vanquished, and laugh to scorn all treaty faith. * An occurrence ever " repeating itself". Even so recently as the year 1867, on the rumour that the English government intended to grant some modicum of civil and religious equality in Ireland, thie same ''Protestant interest" faction screamed and yelled after the old fashion, complained of such an intention as a grievance, and went through the usual vows about our glorious rights and liberties". 474 THE STORY OP IRELANb. There was some danger of obstruction from the powerful Catholic minority entitled to sit in both houses of parlia- ment ; but, for this danger the dominant faction found a specific. By an unconstitutional straining of the theory that each house was judge of the qualification of its mem- bers, they framed test oaths to exclude the minority. In utter violation of the treaty of Limerick — a clause in which, as we have seen, covenanted that no oath should be required of a Catholic other than the oath of allegiance therein set out — the parliamentary majority framed a test oath explicitly denying and denouncing the doctrines of transubstantiation, invocation of saints, and the sacrifice of the Mass, as damnable and idolatrous". Of course the Catholic peers and commoners retired rather than take these tests, and the way was now all clear for the bloody work of persecution. In the so-called Catholic parliament" — the parliament which assembled in Dublin in 1690, and which was opened by king James in person — the Catholics greatly preponde- rated (in just such proportion as the population was Catholic or Protestant) ; yet no attempt was made by that majority to trample down or exclude the minority. Nay, the Protestant prelates all took their seats in the peers chamber, and debated and divided as stoutly as ever throughout the session, while not a Catholic prelate satin that " Catholic parliament" at all. It was the Catholics' day of power, and they used it generously, magnanimously, nobly. Sustainment of the king, suppression of rebellion, were the all-pervading sentiments. Tolerance of all creeds — freedom of conscience for Protestant and for Catholic — were the watchwords in that Catholic parliament". And now, how was all this requited ? Alas ! We have just seen how ! Well might the Catholic in that hour, exclaim in the language used for him by Mr. De Vere in his poem : — We, too, had our day— it was brief : it is ended — When a king dwelt among us, no strange king but ours : When the shout of a people delivered ascended. And shook the broad banner that hung on his tow'rs, W« saw it like trees in a summer breeze shiver THE STORY QV IRELAND. 475 We read the gold legend that blazoned it o'er : " To-day !— now or never ! To-day and for ever !" O God ! have we seen it, t^ see it no more ? How fared it that season, our lords and our masters, In that spring of our freedom, how fared it with you ? Did we trample your faith ? Did we mock your disasters ? We restored but his own to the leal and the true. Ye had fallen ! 'T was a season of tempest and troubles But against you we drew not the knife ye had drawn ; In the war-field we met : but your prelates and nobles Stood up mid the senate in ermine and lawn ! It was even so, indeed. But now. What a contrast ! Strangers to every sentiment of magnanimity, justice, or compassion, the victorious majority went at the work of proscription wholesale. The king, through lord justice Sydney, offered some resistance ; but, by refusing to vote him adequate supplies, they soon taught William that he had better not interfere with their designs. After four years' hesitancy, he yielded in unconcealed disgust. Forth- with ample supplies were voted to his majesty, and the parliament proceeded, to practise freely the doctrine of " no faith to be kept with Papists". Of course they began with confiscations. Plunder was ever the beginning and the end of their faith and practice. Soor. 1,060,792 acres were declared " escheated to the crown". Then they looked into the existing powers of persecution, to see how far they were capable of exten- sion. These were found to be atrocious enough ; never- theless, the new parliament added the following fresh enactments : — " 1. An act to deprive Catholics of the means of educating their children at home or abroad, and to ren- der them incapable of being guardians of their own or any other person's children ; 2. An act to disarm the Catholics ; and 3. Another to banish all the Catholic priests and pre- lates. Having thus violated the treaty, they gravely brought in a bill ' to confirm the Articles of Limerick'. * The very title of the bill', says Dr. Crooke Taylor, ' con- tains evidence of its injustice. It is styled, " A Bill for the confirmation of Articles (not the articles) made at the surrender of Limerick". And the preamble shows that the little word * the' was not accidentally omitted. It runs 476 THE STORY OP IRELAND. thus : — " That the said articles, or so much of them as may consist with the safety and welfare of your majesty's subjects in these kingdoms, may be confinned", etc The parts that appeared to these legislators inconsistent with ' the safety and welfare of his majesty's subjects', was the first article, which provided for the security of the Catholics from all disturbances on account of their religion ; those parts of the second article which confirmed the Catholic gentry of Limerick, Clare, Cork, Kerry, and Mayo, in the possession of their estates, and allowed all Catholics to exercise their trades and professions without obstruction ; the fourth article, which extended the benefit of the peace to certain Irish officers then abroad ; the seventh article, which allowed the Catholic gentry to ride armed; the ninth article, which provides that the oath of allegiance shall be the only oath required from Catholics, and one or two others of minor importance. All of these are omitted in the bill for ^ The confirmation of articles made at the sur- render of Limerick'. The Commons passed the bill without much difficulty. The HoQse of Lords, however, contained some few of the ancient nobility and some prelates, who refused to ac- knowledge the dogma, ^ that no faith should be kept with Papists', as an article of their creed. The bill was strenu- ously resisted, and when it was at length carried, a strong protest against it was signed by lords Londonderry, Ty- rone, and Duncannon, the barons of Ossory, Limerick, Killaloe, Kerry, Howth, Kingston, and Strabane, and, to their eternal honour be it said, the Protestant bishops of Ealdare, Elphin, Derry, Clonfert, and Killala!"* Thus was that solemn pact, which was in truth the treaty of the Irish nation with the newly set-up English regime, torn and trampled under foot by a tyrannic bigotry. McGee. THE STORY OF IRELAND, 477 LXXIV. " THE PENAL TIMES'\ HOW " PROTESTANT ASCEN- DANCY" BY A BLOODY PENAL CODE ENDEAVOURED TO BRUTIFYTHE MIND, DESTROY THE INTELLECT, AND DEFORM THE PHYSICAL AND M0R4L FEATURES OF THE SUBJECT CATHOLICS. . T was now there fell upon Ireland tliat night of ^!^r^^f deepest horror — that agony the most awful, the most prolonged, of any recorded on the blotted page of human suffering. It would be little creditable to an Irish Catho- lic to own himself capable of narrating this chapter of Irish history with calmness and with- out all-conquering emotion. For my part I content myself with citing the descriptions of it supplied by Protestant and English writers. " The eighteenth century", says one of these, writing on the penal laws in Ireland, *^was the era of persecution, in which the law did the work of the sword more effectually and more safely. Then was established a code framed with almost diabolical ingenuity to extinguish natural affec- tion — to Joster perfidy and hypocrisy — to petrify conscience — to perpetuate brutal ignorance — to facilitate the work oj tyranny — by rendering the vices of slavery inherent and natural in the Irish character, and to make Protestantism almost irredeemably odious as the monstrous incarnation of all moral perversions* Too well", he continues, "did it accomplish its deadly work of debasement on the intellects, morals, and physical condition of a people sinking in degeneracy from age to age, till all manly spirit, all virtuous sense of personal in- dependence and responsibility, was nearly extinct, and the very features — vacant, timid, cunning, and unreflective — betrayed the crouching slave within !"* In the presence of the terrible facts he is called upon to chronicle, the generous nature of the Protestant historian whom I am quoting, warms into indignation. Unable to endure the reflection, that they who thus laboured to deform and brutify the Irish people are for ever reproach- • Cassell's (Godkin's) History of Irdand, vol. ii., p. 116. 478 THE STORY OF IRELACT. ing them before the world for bearing traces of the in- famous effort, he bursts forth into the following noble vindication of the calumniated victims of oppression : " Having no rights or franchises — no legal protection of life or property — disqualified to handle a gun, even as a common soldier or a gamekeeper — forbidden to acquire the elements of knowledge at home or abroad — forbidden even to render to God what conscience dictated as His due — what could the Irish be but abject serfs ? What nation in their circumstances could have been otherwise ? Is it not amazing that any social virtue could have survived such an ordeal ? — that any seeds of good, any roots of national greatness, could have outlived such a long tempestuous winter ?" "These laws", he continues, "were aimed not only at the religion of the Catholic, but still more at his liberty and his property. He could enjoy no freehold property, nor was he allowed to have a lease for a longer term than thirty-one years ; but as even this term was long enough to encourage an industrious man to reclaim waste lands and improve his worldly circumstances, it was enacted that if a Papist should have a farm producing a profit greater than one-third of the rent, his right to such should immediately cease, and pass over to the first Protestant who should discover the rate of profit!"* This was the age that gave to Irish topography the " Corrig-an-Affrion", found so thickly marked on every barony map in Ireland, " The Mass Kock !" What memories cling around each hallowed moss-clad stone or rocky ledge on the mountain side, or in the deep recess of some desolate glen, whereon, for years and years, the Holy Sacrifice was offered up in stealth and secresy, the death- penalty hanging over priest and worshipper ! Not un- frequently Mass was interrupted by the approach of the bandogs of the law ; for, quickened by the rewards to be earned, there sprang up in those days the infamous trade of priest-hunting, "five pounds" being equally the govern- ment price for the head of a priest as for the head of a ^ Cassell's CGodkin's') History of Irelandy vol. ii. p. 119. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 479 wolf. The utmost care was necessary in divulging intelli- gence of the night on which Mass would next be celebrated; and when the congregation had furtively stolen to the spot, sentries were posted all around before the Mass began. Yet in instances not a few, the worshippers were taken by surprise, and the blood of the murdered priest wetted the altar stone. Well might our Protestant national poet, Davis, ex- claim, contemplating this deep night-time of suffering and sorrow : Oh ! weep those days — the penal days, When Ireland hopelessly complained : Oh ! weep those days — the penal days, When godless persecution reigned. « * * * * They bribed the flock, they bribed the son, To sell the priest and rob the sire ; Their dogs were taught alike to run Upon the scent of wolf and friar. Among the poor, Or on the moor. Were hid the pious and the true — While traitor knave And recreant slave Had riches, rank, and retinue ; And, exiled in those penal days, Our banners over Europe blaze. A hundred years of such a code in active operation, ought, according to all human calculations, to have suc- ceeded in accomplishing its malefic purpose. But again, all human calculations, all natural consequences and pro- babilities, were set aside, and God, as if by a miracle, preserved the faith, the virtue, the vitality, and power of the Irish race. He decreed that they should win a victory more glorious than a hundred gained on the battle-field — more momentous in its future results — in their triumph over the penal code. After three half centuries of seem- ing death, Irish Catholicity has rolled away the stone from its guarded sepulchre, and walked forth full of life ! It could be no human faith that, after such a crucifixion and burial, could thus arise glorious and immortal ! This triumph, the greatest, has been Ireland's ; and God, in 480 THE STORY OF IRELAND. His own good time, will assuredly give her the fulness of victory. LXV. THE IRISH ARMY IN EXILE. HOW SARSFIELD FELL ON LANDEN PLAIN. HOW THE REGIMENTS OF BURKE AND o'MAHONY SAVED CREMONA, FIGHTING IN " MUSKETS AND shirts". the glorious victory of FONTENOY ! HOW THE IRISH EXILES, FAITHFUL TO THE END, SHARED THE LAST GALLANT EFFORT OF PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD. HE glory of Ireland was all abroad in those years. Spurned from tlie portals of the con- stitution established by the conqueror, the Irish slave followed with eager gaze the meteor track of " the Brigade". Namur, Steenkirk, Staffardo, Cremona, Eamillies, Fontenoy — each, in its turn, sent a thrill through the heart of Ire- land. The trampled captive furtively lifted his bead from the earth, and looked eastward, and his face was lighted up as by the beam of the morning sun. For a hundred years, that magnificent body, the Irish Brigade — (continuously recruited from home, though death was the penalty by English law) — made the Irish name synonymous with heroism and fidelity throughout Europe. Sarsfield was amongst the first to meet a soldier's death. But he fell in the arms of victory, and died, as the old annalists would say, with his mind and his heart turned to Ireland. In the bloody battle of Landen, fought 29th July, 1693, he fell mortally wounded, while leading a victorious charge of the Brigade. The ball had entered near his heart, and while he lay on the field his corslet was removed in order that the wound might be examined. He himself, in a pang of pain, put his hand to his breast as if to staunch the wound. When he took away his hand, it was full of blood. Gazing at it for a moment sorrow- fully, he faintly gasped out : Oh! that this were for Ire^ landr^ He never spoke again ! His place was soon filled from the ranks of the exiled THE STORY OF IRELAND. 483 Irish nobles — those illustrious men whose names are em- blazoned on the glory roll of France — and the Brigade went forward in its path of rlctory. At Cremona, 1702, an Irish regiment, most of the men fighting in their shirts^ (the place had been surprised in the dead of night by treachery) — saved the town under most singular circum- stances. Duke Yilleroy, commanding the French army, including two Irish regiments under O'Mahony and Bourke, held Cremona; his adversary, Prince Eugene, commanding the Germans, being encamped around Mantua. Treason was at work, however, to betray Cremona. One night a partisan of the Gennans within the walls, traitorously opened one of the gates to the Austrian troops. Before the disaster was discovered, the French general, most of the officers, the military chests, etc., were taken, and the Ger- man horse and foot were in possession of the town, excepting one place only — the Po Gate, which was guarded by the two Irish regiments. In fact, Prince Eugene had already taken up his head-quarters in the town hall, and Cremona was virtually in his hands. The Irish were called on to sut render the Po Gate. They answered with a volley. The Austrian general, on learning they were Irish troops^ desired to save brave men from utter sacrifice — for he had Irish in his own service, and held the men of Ireland in high estimation. He sent to expostulate with them, and show them the madness of sacrificing their lives where they could have no probability of relief, and to assure them that if they would enter into the imperial service, they should be directly and honourably promoted. The first part of this proposal", says the authority I have been following, " they heard with impatience ; the second, with disdain. ^ Tell the prince', said they, ' that we have hitherto preserved the honour of our country, and that we hope this day to convince him we are worthy of his esteem. While one of us exists , the German eagles shall not he dis- plai/ed upon these walls^ The attack upon them was forth- with commenced by a large body of foot, supported by five thousand cuirassiers. As I have already noted, the Irish, having been aroused from their sleep, had barely time to clutch their arms and rush forth undressed, Davis, 34 THE STORY OF IRELAND. in his ballad of Cremona, informs us, indeed (very pro* bably more for rhyme" than with reason") that the major is drest ; adding, however, the undoubted fact — But muskets and shirts are the clothes of the rest. A bloody scene of street fighting now ensued, and before the morning sun had risen high, the naked Irish had re- covered nearly half the city ! " In on them", said Friedberg — " and Dillon is broke^ Like forest flowers crushed by the fall of the oak". Through the naked battalions the cuirassiers go ; — But the man, not the dress, makes the soldier, I trow. Upon them with grapple, with bay'net, and ball. Like wolves upon gaze-hounds the Irishmen fall — Black Friedberg is slain by O'Mahony's steel. And back from the bullets the cuirassiers reeL Oh ! hear you their shout in your quarters, Eugene ? In vain on Prince Vaudemont for succour you lean I The bridge has been broken, and mark ! how pell-mell Come riderless horses and volley and yell ! He 's a veteran soldier— he clenches his hands. He springs on his horse, disengages his bands — He rallies, he urges, tiU, hopeless of aid. He is chased through the gates by the Irish Brigade**, It was even so. " Before evening", we are told, " the enemy were completely expelled the town, and the general and military chests recovered Well might the poet undertake to describe as here quoted the effects of the news in Austria, England, France, and Ireland — News, news in Vienna ! — King Leopold 's sad. News, news in St. James's ! — King William is mad. News, news in Versailles ! — * Let the Irish Brigade Be loyally honoured, and royally paid'. News, news in old Ireland ! — high rises her pride. And loud sounds her wail for her children who died ; And deep is her prayer — * God send I may see MacDonnell and Mahony fighting for me Far more memorable, however, far more important, was the ever-glorious day of Fontenoy — a name which to this day thrills the Irish heart with pride. Of this great THE STORY OP IRELAKD. 485 battle — fouglit 11th May, 1745 — in which the Irish Brigade turned the fortunes of the day, and saved the honour of France, I take the subjoined account, prefixed to Davis's well-known poem^ which I also quote: — " A French army of seventy-nine thousand men, com- manded by Marshal Saxe, and encouraged by the presence of both the King and the Dauphin, laid siege to Tournay, early in May, 1745. The Duke of Cumberland advanced at the head of fifty-five thousand men, chiefly English and Dutch, to relieve the town. At the Duke's approach, Saxe and the King advanced a few miles from Tournay with forty- five thousand men, leaving eighteen thousand to continue the siege, and six thousand to guard the Scheldt. Saxe posted his army along a range of slopes thus: his centre was on the village of Fontenoy, his left stretched oflf through the wood of Barri, his right reached to the town of St. Antoine, close to the Scheldt. He fortified his right and centre by the villages of Fontenoy and St. Antoine, and redoubts near them. His extreme left was also strengthened by a redoubt in the wood of Barri ; but his left centre, between that wood and the village of Fonte- noy, was not guarded by anything save slight lines. Cumberland had the Dutch, under Waldeck, on his left, and twice they attempted to carry St. Antoine, but were repelled with heavy loss. The same fate attended the English in the centre, who thrice forced their way to Fontenoy, but returned fewer and sadder men. Ingoldsby was then ordered to attack the wood of Barri with Cum- berland's right. He did so, and broke into the wood, when the artillery of the redoubt suddenly opened on him, which, assisted by a constant fire from the French tirail- leurs (light infantry), drove him back. The Duke now resolved to make one great and final eifort. He selected his best regiments, veteran English corps, and formed them into a single column of six thou- sand men. At its head were six cannon, and as many more on the flanks, which did good service. Lord John Hay commanded this great mass. Everything being now ready, the column advanced slowly and evenly as if on the parade ground. It mounted tte slope of Saxe's position, THE 8T0RY OP IRELAKP, And pressed on between the wood of Barri and the village of Fontenoy. In doing so, it was exposed to a cruel fire of artillery and sharpshooter?, hut it stood the storm, and got behind Fontenoy! '^The moment the object of the column was seen, the French troops were hurried in upon them. The cavalry charged ; but the English hardly paused to offer the raised bayonet, and then poured in a fatal fire. On they went, till within a short distance, and then threw in their balls with great precision, the officers actually laying their canes along the muskets to make the men fire low. Mass after mass of infantry was broken, and on went the column, reduced but still apparently invincible! Due Richelieu had four cannon hurried to the front, and he literally battered the head of the column, while the household cavalry surrounded them, and in repeated charges, wore down their strength. But these French were fearful suf- ferers. The day seemed virtually lost, and King Louis was about to leave the ^eld. In this juncture, Saxe ordered up his last reserve — the Irish Brigade. It consisted that day of the regiments of Clare, Lally, Dillon, Berwick, Roth, and Buckley, with Fitzjames's horse. O'Brien, Lord Clare, was in command. Aided by the French regiments of Normandy and Yaisseany, they were ordered to charge upon the flank of the English with fixed bayonets without firing. Upon the approach of this splendid body of men, the English were halted on the slope of a hill, and up that slope the Brigade rushed rapidly and in fine order; the stimulating cry of ' Cuimhnigidh ar Liumneac, agus ar fheilena Sacsanach', * Remember Limerick and British faith\ being re-echoed from man to man. The fortune of the field was no longer doubtful. The English were weary with a long day's fighting, cut up by cannon, charge, and musketry, and dispirited by the appearance of the Brigade. Still they gave their fire well and fatally ; but they were literally stunned by the shout, and shattered by the Irish charge. They broke before the Irish bayonets, and tumbled down the far side of the hill disorganized, hope- less, and falling by hundreds. The victory was bloody and complete. Louis is said to have ridden down to the tHE STORY OF IRELAND. 487 Irish bivouac, and personally thanked them ; and George the Second, on hearing it, uttered that memorable impre- cation on the penal code, * Carsed be the laws which de- prive me of such subjects'. The one English volley and the short struggle on the crest of the hill cost the Irish dear. One fourth of the officers, including Colonel Dillon, were killed, and one-third of the men. The capture of Ghent, Bruges, Ostend, and Oudenard, followed the vic- tory of Fontenoy". Thrice, at the huts of Fontenoy, the EngUsh column failed, And thrice the lines of St. Antoine the Dutch in vain assailed ; For town and slope were filled with foot and flanking battery, And well they swept the English ranks and Dutch auxiUary. As vainly, through De Barri's Wood the British soldier burst, The French artillery drove them back, diminished and dispersed. The bloody Duke of Cumberland beheld with anxious eye, And ordered up his last reserve, his latest chance to try. On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy, how fast his generals ride ! And mustering come his chosen troops, like clouds at eventide. Six thousand English veterans in stately column tread ; Their cannon blaze in front and flank ; Lord Hay is at their head ; Steady they step adown the slope — steady they climb the hill, Steady they load — steady they fire, moving right onward still. Betwixt the wood and Fontenoy, as through a furnace blast. Through rampart, trench, and pallisade, and bullets showering fast ; And on the open plain above they rose and kept their course. With ready fire and grim resolve, that mocked at hostile force. Past Fontenoy, past Fontenoy, while thinner grow their ranks — They break as broke the Zuyder Zee through Holland's ocean banks. More idly than the summer flies, French tirailleurs rush round ; As stubble to the lava tide, French squadrons strew the ground ; Bombshell and grape, and round shot tore, still on they marched and fired — Fast from each volley grenadier and voltigeur retired. Push on my household cavalry !" King Louis madly cried. To death they rush, but rude their shock— not unavenged they died. On through the camp the column trod — King Louis turns his rein : " Not yeU my liege", Saxe interposed, " the Irish troops remain" ; And Fontenoy, famed Fontenoy, had been a Waterloo, Were not these exiles ready then, fresh, vehement, and true. .* Lord Clare", he says, " you have your wish : there are your Saxon foes !" The Marshal almost smiles to see, so furiously he goes ! How fierce the smile these exiles wear, who 're wont to look so gay ; The treasured wrongs of fifty years are in their hearts to-day. 488 rfHlS STORY OF IRELAiTD. The treaty broken ere the ink wherewith 't was writ could dry, Their plundered homes, their ruined shrines, their women's parting cry, Their priesthood hunted down like wolves, their country overthrown! Each looks as if revenge for all were staked on him alone. On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy, nor ever yet elsewhere, Pushed on to fight a nobler band than those proud exiles were. O'Brien's voice is hoarse with joy, as halting he commands, " Fix bay 'nets— charge", — Like mountain storm rush on these fiery bands I Thin is the English column now, and faint their volleys grow. Yet must'ring all they strength they have, they made a gallant show. They dress their ranks upon the hill to face that battle wind ; Their bayonets the breakers' foam ; Uke rocks the men behind ! One volley crashes from their line, when through the surging smoke, With empty guns clutched in their hands, the headlong Irish broke, On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy, hark to that fierce huzza ! " Revenge ! remember Limerick ! dash down the Sassenagh I" Like lions leaping at a fold when mad with hunger's pang, Right up against the English line the Irish exiles sprang. Bright was their steel, 't is bloody now, their gims are filled with gore; Through shattered ranks, and severed piles, and trampled flags they tore ; The English strove with desperate strength, paused, rallied, stag- ^ gered, fled — The green hill-side is matted close with dying and with dead. Across the plain and far away passed on that hideous wrack, While cavalier and fantassin dash in upon their track. On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy, like eagles in the sun. With bloody plumes the Irish stand — the field is fought and won I In the year of Fontenoy, 1745, Prince Charles Edward made his bold and romantic attempt to recover the lost crown of the Stuarts. His expedition, we are told, **was undertaken and conducted by Irish aid, quite as much as by French or Scottish". His chief of command was Colonel 0' Sullivan; the most of the funds were supplied by the two Waters — father and son — Irish bankers at Paris, " who advanced one hundred and eighty thousand livres between them" ; another Irishman, Walsh, a merchant at Nantes, putting a privateer of eighteen guns into the venture". Indeed, one of Charles' English adherents, Lord Elcho, who kept a journal of the campaign, notes complainingly the Irish influence under which the prince THE STORY OF iKELANi). 489 acted. On the 19th July, lie landed near Moidart, in the north of Scotland. Clanronald, Cameron of Lochiel, the Laird of M'Leod, and a few others having arrived, the royal standard was unfurled on the 19th August at Glen- finan, where, that evening, twelve thousand men — the entire army, so far — were formed into camp under the orders of 0' Sullivan. From that day until the day of Culloden, 0' Sullivan seems to have manoeuvred the prince's forces. At Perth, at Edinburgh, at Manchester, at Culloden, he took command in the field or in the gar- rison ; and even after the sad result, he adhered to his sovereign's son with an honourable fidelity which defied despair".* In Ireland no corresponding movement took place. Yet this is the period which has given to native Irish mins- trelsy, as it now survives, its abiding characteristic of deep, fervent, unchangeable, abiding devotion to the Stuart cause. The Gaelic harp never gave forth richer melody, Gaelic poetry never found nobler inspiration, than in its service. In those matchless songs, which, under the general desig- nation of Jacobite Eelics", are, and ever will be, so poten- tial to touch the Irish heart with sadness or enthusiasm, under a thousand forms of allegory the coming of Prince Charles, the restoration of the ancient faith, and the deli- verance of Ireland by the " rightful prince", are prophesied and apostrophied. Now it is Dark Rosaleen"; now it is " Kathaleen-na-Honlahan" ; now it is the Blackbird", the " Drimin Don Deeiish", the Silk of the Kine", or "Ma Chrevin Evin Algan Og". From this rich store of Gaelic poetry of the eighteenth century I quote one speci- men, a poem written about the period of Charles Edward's landing at Moidart, by William Heffernan Dall" the Blind") of Shronehill, county Tipperary, and addressed to the Prince of Ossory, Michael Mac Giolla Kerin, known as Mehal Dhu, or Dark Michael. The translation into Eng- lish is by Mangan: — Lift up the drooping head, Meehal Dhu Mac-Giolla-Kierin; * McGee. 490 THE STORY OF IRELAND. Her blood yet boundeth red Through the myriad veins of Erin No ! no ! she is not dead— Meehal Dhu Mac-Giolla-Kierin! Lo ! she redeems The lost years of bygone ages — New glory beams Henceforth on her history's pages ! Her long penitential Night of Sorrow Yields at length before the reddening morrow 1 You heard the thunder- shout, Meehal Dhu Mac-Giolla-Kierin, Saw the lightning streaming out O'er the purple hills of Erin ! And bide you stiU in doubt, Meehal Dhu Mac-Giolla-Kierin ? Oh! doubt no more! H Through Ulidia's voiceful valleys, On Shannon's shore, Freedom's burning spirit rallies. Earth and heaven unite in sign and omen Bodeful of the downfall of our foemen. • * * 4e * • • Charles leaves the Grampian hills, Meehal Dhu Mac-Giolla-Kierin, Charles, whose appeal yet thrills Like a clarion-blast through Erin. Charles, he whose image fills Thy soul too,;,Mac-Giolla-Kierin! Ten thousand strong His clans move in brilUant order, Sure that ere long He will march them o'er the border, While the dark-haired daughters of the Highlands Crown with wreaths the monarch of these islands. But it was only in the passionate poesy of the native minstrels that any echo of the shouts from Moidart re- sounded midst the hills of Erin. During all this time the hapless Irish Catholics resigned themselves utterly to the fate that had befallen them. For a moment victory gleamed on the Stuart banner, and the young prince marched southward to claim his own in London. Still Ireland made no sign. Hope had fled. The prostrate and exhausted nation slept heavily in its blood-clotted chain! THE STORY OF IRELAND. 491 LXXVI. — HOW IRELAND BEGAN TO AWAKEN FROM THE SLEEP OF SLAVERY. THE DAWN OF LEGISLATIVE INDEPENDENCE. RELAND lay long in that heavy trance. The /vfe^ signal for her awakening came across the wes- tern ocean. A voice from America", says Flood, shouted ^ Liberty'; and every hill and valley of this rejoicing island answered, * Li- berty!"' For two centuries the claim of the English parliament to control, direct, and bind the Irish legislature, had been the subject of bitter dispute. The claim was first formally asserted and imposed in the reign of Henry the Seventh, when a servile " parliament", gathered at Drogheda, in November, 1495, by lord deputy Poynings, amongst other acts of self- degrada- tion, at the bidding of the English official, enacted that henceforth no law could be originated in the Irish legislature, or proceeded with, until the heads of it had first been sent to England, submitted to the king and council there, and returned with their approbation under seal. This was the celebrated " Poynings' Act", or " Poynings' Law", which readers of Grattan's Life and Times will find mentioned so frequently. It was imposed as a most secure chain — a ponderous curb — at a crisis when resistance was out of the question. It was, in moments of like weakness or distraction, submitted to ; but ever and anon in flashes of spirit, the Irish parlia- ments repudiated the claim as illegal, unconstitutional, and unjust. On the 16th February, 1640, the Irish House of Commons submitted a set of queries to the judges, the nature of which may be inferred from the question — "Whether the subjects of this kingdom be a free people, and to be governed only by the common law of England and statutes passed in this kingdom f * When the answers re- ceived were deemed insufficient, the House turned the questions into the form of resolutions, and proceeded to vote on them, one by one, afiirming in every point the 492 THE STORY OF IREtAND. rights, the liberties, and the privileges of their constituents. The Confederation of Kilkenny still more explicitly and boldly enunciated and asserted the doctrine that Ireland was a distinct, free, sovereign, and independent nation, subject only to the triple-crown of the three kingdoms. The Cromwellian rebellion tore down this, as it trampled upon so many other of the rights and liberties of all three kingdoms. The restoration" came; but in the reign of the second Charles, the Dublin parliament was too busy in scrambling for retention of plunder and resistance of restitution, to utter an aspiration for liberty ; it bowed the neck to " Poynings' law". To the so-called Catholic Parliament" of Ireland in James the Second's reign belongs the proud honour of making the next notable declaration of independence ; amongst the first acts of this legislature being one declaring the complete and perfect freedom of the Irish parliament. Though they were * Papists' says Grattan, "these men were not slaves; they wrung a <:onstitution from King James before they accompanied him to the field". Once more, however, came successful rebellion to overthrow the sovereign and the parliament, and again the doctrine of national independence disap- peared. The Irish legislature in the first years of the new regime sunk into the abject condition of a mere committee of the English parliament. Soon, however, the spirit of resistance began to appear. For a quarter of a century, the Protestant party had been so busy at the work of persecution — so deeply occupied in forging chains for their Catholic fellow-countrymen — that they never took thought of the political thraldom being imposed upon themselves by the English parliament. The Irish Protestant", says Mr. Wyse, "had succeeded in excluding the Catholics from power, and for a mo- ment held triumphant and exclusive possession of the conquest ; but he was merely a locum tenens for a more powerful conqueror, a jackal for the lion, an Irish steward for an English master. The exclusive system was turned against him ; he made the executive exclusively Protestant; the Whigs of George the First made it almost entirely English, His victory paved the way for another far easier THE STORY OF IRELAND. 493 and far more important. Popery fell, but Ireland fell with it".* In 1719, the question came to a direct issue. In a lawsuit between Hester Sherlock, appellant, and Maurice Annesley, respondent, relating to some property in the county Kildare, the Irish Court of Exchequer decided in favour of the respondent. On an appeal to the Irish House of Peers, this judgment was reversed. The respondent, Annesley, now appealed to the English House of Peers in England, which body annulled the decision of the Irish peers, and confirmed that of the Exchequer Court. The sheriff of Kildare, however, re- cognizing the decision of the Irish peers, and declining to recognize the jurisdiction of the English tribunal, refused to obey an order calling on him to put Annesley into pos- session of the estate. The Irish Court of Exchequer there- upon inflicted a fine upon the sheriff. The Irish peers removed the fine, and voted that the sheriff had behaved with integrity and courage". This bold course evoked the following galling enactment by the English House: — Whereas, the lords of Ireland have of late, against law, assumed to themselves a power and jurisdic- tion to examine and amend the judgments and decrees of the courts of justice in Ireland ; theref ore, etc., it is declared and enacted, etc that the King's Majesty, by and with the advice and consent of the lords spiritual and temporal and commons of Great Britain in parliament assembled, had, hath, and of right ought to have, full power and authority to make laws and statutes of sufficient forct and validity to bind the people of the kingdom of Ireland. And it is further enacted and declared, that the House of Lords of Ireland have not, nor of right ought to have, any jurisdiction to judge of, affirm, or reverse any judgment etc., made in any court in the said kingdom". Here was " Poynings' law" reenacted with savage ex- plicitness ; a heavy bit set between the jaws of the restive Irish legislature. This rough and insulting assertion of subjugation stung * His, Caih. Association, page 27. 494 THE STORY OF IRELAND, the Protestants to the quick. They submitted; but soon there began to break forth from amongst them men who commenced to utter the words Country and Patriotism. These rash" and extreme" doctrinaireswere long almost singular in their views. Wise men considered them in- sane when they raved" of recovering the freedom of parliament. Repeal Poynings' law I — restore the hep- tarchy/" cried one philosopher. " Liberate the parlia- ment! — a splendid phantom !" cried another. Neverthe- less, the so called doctrinaires grew in popularity. Their leader was the Very Rev. Jonathan Swift, Protestant dean of St. Patrick's. His precursor was William Molyneux, member for the Dublin University, who, in 1691, pub- lished the first great argumentative vindication of Irish le- gislative independence — The Case of Ireland Stated. Im- mediately on its appearance, the English parliament took alarm, and ordered the book to be burned by the hands of the common hangman". Swift took up the doctrines and arguments of Molyneux, and made them all-prevalent amongst the masses of the people. But the " upper classes" thought them "visionary" and "impracticable"; nay, seditious and disloyal. Later on — in the middle of the century — Dr. Charles Lucas, a Dublin apothecary, became the leader of the anti-English party. Of course, he was set down as disaffected. A resolution of the ser- vile Irish House of Commons declared him " an enemy to his country" ; and he had to fly from Ireland for a time. His popularity, however, increased, and the popular sus- picion and detestation of the English only required an opportunity to exhibit itself in overt acts. In 1759, a rumour broke out in Dublin that a legislative union (on the model of the Scoto-English amalgamation just accom- plished) was in contemplation. " On the 3rd December, the citizens rose en masse and surrounded the houses of parliament. They stopped the carriages of members, and obliged them to swear opposition to such a measure. Some of the Protestant bishops and the chancellor were roughly handled ; a privy councillor was thrown into the river ; the attorney-general was wounded and obliged to take refuge in the College ; Lord Inchiquin was abused THE STOR? OF IRELAND. 495 till he said his name was O'Brien, when the rage of the people was turned into acclamations. The speaker, Mr. Ponsonby, and the chief secretary, Mr. Higby, had to appear in the porch of the House of Commons, solemnly to assure the citizens that no union was dreamed of, and if it was proposed that thej would be the first to oppose it".* The union scheme had to be abandoned ; and Lucas soon after returned from exile, to wield increased power. The seditious agitator", the solemnly declared " enemy of his country", was triumphantly returned to parliament by the citizens of Dublin, having as fellow-labourers, re- turned at the same time, Hussey Burgh and Henry Flood. Lucas did not live to enjoy many years his well- earned Honours. In ]770 he was followed to the grave by every demonstration of national regret. At hi? funeral the pall was borne by the Marquis of Kildare, Lord Charlemont, Mr. Flood, Mr. Hussey Burgh, Sir Lucius O'Brien, and Mr. Ponsonby". And the citizens of Dub- lin, to perpetuate the memory of the once banished dis- loyalist", set up his marble statue in their civic forum, where it stands to this day.f While the country was thus seething with discontent, chafing under. the Poyning" yoke, there rolled across the Atlantic the echoes of Bunker's Hill ; Protestant dominancy paused in its work of persecution, and bowed in homage to the divine spirit of Liberty! ♦ M*Gee. t Lucas was, politically, a thorough nationaUst, but, religiously, a bigot. The Irish nation he conceived to be the Irish Protestants. The idea of admitting the Catholics — the mass of the population — within the constitution, found in him a rabid opponent. Yet the Catholics of Ireland, to their eternal honour, have ever condoned his rabid bigotry against themeelves, remembering his labours for the principle of nationaUty, 49C THB STORY OP IRELAND, LXXVII. — HOW THE IRISH VOLUNTEERS ACHIEVED THE LEGIS- LATIVE INDEPENDENCE OF IRELAND ; OR, HOW THE MORAL FORCE OF A CITIZEN ARMY EFFECTED A PEACEFUL, LEGAL, AND CONSTITUTIONAL REVOLUTION. HE first effort of the " patriot party", as for some years past they had been called, was to limit the duration of parliaments (at this time elected for the life of the king), so that the con- stituents might oftener have an opportunity — even by such cumbrous and wretchedly in- effective means as the existing electoral system provided — of judging the conduct of their mem- bers. In 1760, Lucas and his fellow-nationalists succeeded in carrying resolutions for "heads of a bill", limiting the parliaments to seven years. In accordance with " Poy- nings' law", the " heads'* were transmitted to London for sanction, but were never heard of more. In 1763, they were again carried in the Irish house, again sent to Lon- don, again cancelled there. Irish popular feeling now began to be excited. Again, a third time, the " Septen- nial Bill" was carried through the Irish parliament, again sent to London, and again ignominiously vetoed there. But now the infatuation of England had overleaped itself A spirit was aroused in Ireland before which the govern ment quailed. A fourth time, amidst ominous demons- trations of popular determination, the thrice rejected " heads of a bill" were sent across. This time they were returned approved ; but the seven years were altered to eight years, a paltry and miserable assertion of mastery, even while yielding under fear. But the impartial stu- dent will note that by some malign fatality it happens that even up to the present hour every concession granted by England to Irish demands was invariably refused till passion was inflamed, and has been conceded only on com- pulsion. The concession that, had it been made cheer- fully and graciously at first, might have elicited good will and gratitude, has always been denied as long as it durst for safety be withheld, and been granted only when some THE STORY OF IRELAND. 497 home or foreign difficulty rendered Irish discontent full of danger. Concessions thus made are taken without thanks, and only give strength and determination to further demands. The patriot party followed up their first decisive victory by campaigns upon the pension list, the dependence of the judges, the voting of supply, etc. ; the result being continuous, violent, and bitter conflict between the parlia- ment and the viceroy ; popular feeling rising and intensi- fying, gaining strength and force every hour. Meanwhile America, on issues almost identical, had taken the field, and, aided by France, was holding Eng- land in deadly struggle. Towards the close of the year 1779, while Ireland as well as England was denuded of troops, government sent warning that some French or American privateers might be expected on the Irish coast, but confessing that no regular troops could be spared for local defence. The people of Belfast were the first to make a significant answer to this warning, by enrolling volunteer corps. The movement spread rapidly through- out the island, and in a short time the government with dismay beheld the patriot party in parliament surrounded by a volunteer army filled with patriotic ardour and en- thusiasm. Every additional battalion of volunteers en- rolled added to the moral power wielded by those leaders, whose utterances grew in boldness amidst the flashing swords and bayonets of a citizen army one hundred thousand strong. The nation by this time had become unanimous in its resolution to be free ; a corrupt or timid group of courtiers or placemen alone making a sullen and half-hearted fight against the now all-powerful nationalists. Under the healing influence of this sentiment of patriotism, the gaping wounds of a century began to close. The Catholic slave, though still outside the pale of the con- stitution, forgot his griefs and his wrongs for the moment, and gave all his energies in aid of the national movement. He bought the musket which law denied to himself the right to bear, and placing it in the hand of his Protestant fellow-countryman, bade him go forward in the glorious work of liberating their common fatherland. 22 498 THE STORY OP IRELAND. Free trade became now the great object of endeavour. The trade of Ireland at this time had been almost ex tinguished by repressive enactments passed by the English parliament in London, or by its shadow in Dublin in by-gone years. Immediately on the accession of William the Third, the English lords and commons addressed the king, praying his majesty to declare to his Irish subjects that the growth and increase of the woollen manufacture hath long been, and will ever be looked upon with great jealousy", and threatening very plainly that they might otherwise have to enact " very strict laws totally to abolish the same^\* William answered them, promising to do " all that in him lay'* to " discourage the woollen manufacture there". 'T were long to trace and to recapitulate the mul- tifarious laws passed to crush manufacture and commerce of all kinds in Ireland in accordance with the above- cited address and royal promise. Englishmen in our day are constantly reproaching Ireland with absence of manufac- tures and commerce, and inviting this country to wake up" and compete with England in the markets of the world. This may be malignant sarcasm, or it may be the ignorance of defective information. When one country has been by law forbidden to engage in manufactures or commerce, until the other has protected and nursed her own into vigour and maturity, and has secured possession of the world's markets, the invitation to the long-restricted and now crippled country to compete" on the basis of free-trade, is as much of a mockery, as to call for a race between a trained athlete and a half-crippled captive, who has, moreover, been forcibly and foully detained till the other had neared the winning post. To liberate Irish trade from such restraints was now the resolve of the patriot party in the Irish parliament. On the 12th October, 1779, they carried an address to the viceroy, declaring that " by free trade alone" could the nation be saved from impending ruin. Again England un- graciously and sourly complied, and once more clogged her compliance with embittering addenda ! These con- • English Lords' Journal^ 1698, pp. 314, 315. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 499 cessions, whicli the secretary of state was assuring the Irish parliament were freely bestowed by English gene- rosity, were no sooner made public in England than Mr. Pitt had to send circular >etters to the manufacturing towns, assuring them ^Hhat nothing effectual had been granted in Ireland". But the Irish leaders were now about to crown their liberating efforts by a work which would henceforth place the destinies of Irish trade beyond the power of English jealousy, and beneath the protecting segis of a free and in- dependent native legislature. On the 19th April, 1780, Grattan moved that resolution which is the sum and sub- stance in its simple completeness of the Irish national constitutional doctrine: — " That no power on earthy save that of the king, lords, and commons of Ireland , has a right to make laws to bind this hingdom^\ The motion was unsuccessful ; but this was the com- mencement of the great struggle; and over the vital issue now raised — complete legislative independence — the government fought with an unscrupulous energy. Through- out two years the contest was pursued with unintermit- ting severity, when suddenly Europe was electrified by the intelligence that the British armies had capitulated to the " rebel colonists", and the star-spangled banner" ap- peared on the western horizon, proclaiming the birth of a new power destined to be the terror of tyrants, the hope of the oppressed, all over the world. It was England's day of humiliation and dismay. By clutching at the right of oppression in her hour of fancied strength, she had lost America, It was not clear that through the same course she was not about to drive Ire- land also from the demand for legislative independence into the choice of complete separation. The Ulster volunteers now decided to hold a national convention of delegates from every citizen regiment in the province. On the day fixed — Friday, 15th February, 1782 — and at the appointed place of meeting — the Pro- testant church of Dungannon, county Tyrone, the conven- tion assembled ; and there, amidst a scene the most glo- rious witnessed in Ireland for years, the delegates of 500 THE STORY OF IRELA^TD. the citizen army solemnly swore allegiance to the charter of national liberty, denouncing as " unconstitutional, illegal, and a grievance'* the claim of any body of men, other than the king, lords, and commons of Ireland, to make laws to bind this kingdom". The Dungannon re- solutions were enthusiastically ratified and reasserted by the several Yolunteer corps, the mimicipal corporations, and public meetings, all over the island ; and soon, out- side the circle of corrupt and servile castle placemen, no Yoice durst be raised against the demand for liberty. A conciliatory, that is, a temporising ministry now came into power in London, and in their choice of lord lieutenant for Ireland — the duke of Portland— they found a very suitable man, apparently, for their designs or ex- periments. But the duke '*on his arrival found the nation in a state in which neither procrastination nor eva- sion was any longer practicable". He reported to Eng- land the danger of resistance and the advisability of temporizing, that is, of yielding as little as possible, but yielding all if necessary. Accordingly, a message was delivered by the king to the British parKament, setting forth " that mistrusts and jealous:es had arisen in Ireland, and that it was highly necessary to take the same into immediate consideration in order to a Jinal adjustment". Meanwhile the viceroy in Dublin was plausibly endeavour- ing to wheedle Grattan and the other patriot leaders into procrastination, or, failing this, to tone down, to mode- rate", the terms of the popular demand. Happily Grattan was sternly firm. He wuald not consent to even a dairs postponement of the question, and he refused to alter a jot of the national ultimatum. An eye-witness has de- scribed for us the great scene of the 16th of April, 1782: ^' Whoever has individually experienced the sensation of ardent expectation, trembling suspense, burning im- patience, and determined ri'solution, and can suppose all those sensations possessing an entire nation, may form some, but yet an inadequato idea of the feelings of the Irish people on the 16th of April, 1782, which was the day peremptorily fixed by Mr. Grattan for moving that decla- ration of rights, which was the proximate cause of Ireland'? 6PHE STOKY OF IRELAND. 50i short-lived prosperity, and the remote one of its final overthrow and annexation. So high were the minds of the public wound up on the eve of that momentous day, that the volunteers flew to their arms without having an enemy to encounter, and, almost breathless with impatience, inquired eagerly after the probability of events, which the close of the same day must certainly determine. ^- Early on the 16th of April, 1782, the great street before the house of parliament was thronged by a multi- tude of people, of every class and description, though many hours must elapse before the house would meet, or business be proceeded with. The parliament had been summoned to attend this momentous question by an un- usual and special call of the house, and by four o'clock a full meeting took place. The body of the House of Com- mons was crowded with its members, a great proportion of the peerage attended as auditors, and the capacious gallery which surrounded the interior magnificent dome of the house contained above four hundred ladies of the highest distinction, who partook of the same national fire which had enlightened their parents, their husbands, and their relatives, and by the sympathetic influence of their pre- sence and zeal they communicated an instinctive chival- rous impulse to eloquence and patriotism. A calm but deep solicitude was apparent on almost every countenance when Mr. Grattan entered, accom- panied by Mr. Brownlow and several others, the deter- mined and important advocates for the declaration of Irish independence. Mr. Grattan's preceding exertions and anxiety had manifestly injured his health; his totter- ing frame seemed barely siffficient to sustain his labourixig mind, replete with the unprecedented importance and responsibility of the measure he was about to bring for- ward".* " For a short time", continues Sir Jonah Barrington, " a profound silence ensued". It was expected that Grat- tan would rise ; but. to the mortification and confusion of the government leaders, he kept his seat, putting on them * Sir Jonah Barrington's liise and Fall of the IrLh Aaiiotu 502 UHfi TOBY OF IRELiJjm. the responsibility of opening the proceedings and of fixing their attitude before being allowed to "feel their way'', as they greatly desired to do. The secretary of state, resign- ing himself to the wor^t, thought it better to declare for concession. He announced that " his majesty, being con- cerned to find that discontents and jealousies were prerail- ing amongst his loyal subjects in Ireland upon matters of great weight and importance, recommended to the house to take the same into their most serious consideration, in order to effect such a Jinal adjustment as might give sa- tisfaction to both kingdoms". The secretary, howerer, added, that he was not officially authorized to say more than to deliyer the message. After an interval of embarrassing silence and curiosity, Mr. George Ponsonby rose, and moved a weak and pro- crastinating reply, thanking the king for his goodness and condescension*^. But it would not do. The national determination was not to be trifled with. At length, after a solemn pause, Grattan, slowly rising from his seat, com- menced the most luminous, brilliant, and effective oration ever delivered in the Irish parliament" ; a speech which, " rising in its progress, applied equally to the sense, the pride, and the spirit of the nation". " Amidst an universal cry of approbation", he concluded by moving as an amend- ment to Mr. Ponsonby's inconsequential motion, the ever- memorable DECLARATION OF IRISH IN'DEPE>DENCE : ** That the kiogdom of Ireland is a distinct kingdom^ with a par- dament of her own, the sole legislature thereof ; that there is no body of men competent to make laws to bind the nation, but the king^ lords, and commons of Irdand, nor any parliament which hath any authority or power of any sort whatever in this conntry. save only the parliament of Ireland ; to assure his majesty, that we humbly conceive that in this right the very essence of our Hbertv exists, a right which we, on the part of all the people of Ireland, do claim as their birthright, and wluchwe cannot yield but with our lives". Grattan's amendment was seconded by Mr. Brownlow, member for Armagh coimtT, in point of wealth and repu- tation one of the nrst country gentlemen in Ireland. The whole house", says Barrington, in a moment caught the patriotic fiame. All further debate ceased ; the speaker tHE 6T0EY or lEELASi). sol pnt the question on !Mj. Grattan's amendment; an v«(m- shont of ^ aye' burst from erery qajorter of tkelmHe. He repeated the question. The Mpp^me ndonbled. A moment of tnmnltnons exultation fidloved: and sftereea- tnries of oppression, Ireland at lengtb declared herself an independent nation''. Word of the event no sooner reached the Tiwpttifnt crowd outside the building, than a cij of joj and tnnaqsii burst forth all orer the city. The news book ^rad through the nation, and the rejoicings of people were beyond all description ; every city, town, and Tillage in Ireland blazed with the emblems of exultation, and re- sounded with the shouts of tiiim^li^. " Never was a new nation more nobly heralded into ex- istence! Xever was an old nation moie le r ciCMi ly and tenderly lifted up and restored! The houses adjoamed to give England time to consider Ireland's ultiTnatum. Within a month it was accepted by the new British admmistn- tion". The "^Tifflmary^ and im^actkaUe^ idea had become an accomplished fact. Tbe ^ ^dendid jlkaaAam^ had become a glorious reality. The heptaidry had mat been restored ; yet Ireland had won comj^ete l^tBlatire independence! LXTIII. WHAT FATIOyAL rSDEPZyBESTCE ACCOlfFLISHin) rOR IBELAITD. HOW E^TGLAST) OXCE ICOEE BEOKE FAITH WITH IRELA5D, ASTD REPAID GESTEROUS TBUST WITH BASK BETRAYAL. F manldnd needed at so late a period of the world^s i^-^^j age as the close of the eigfatemth eentrnj, aacy experiment to prove the snbetantial bendits A national freedom, the progressed Xrdaiid dmrrng this brief but bright and glorions era of inde- pendence would si^ce to establish the fact for ever. Happily, when referring to the eventa of that time, we treat of no remote p»eriod ol history. Living men remember it. Irishmen of this genera- tion have listened at their parent's knee to S04 THE STORY OP IRELAlfl). and relations, facts and particulars, tliat mark it as the day of Ireland's tme, real, and visible prosperity. Statistics — invulnerable— irrefragable — full of eloquence — momen- tous in their meaning — attest the same truth. Manu- facture, trade, and commerce developed to a greater ex- tent in ten years of native rule than they had done in the previous hundred under English mastery, and in a much greater proportion than they have developed in the sixty- seven years of subsequent *' union" legislation. Ireland's freedom and prosperity did not mean England's injury, nor England's pause in the like onward march. The history of the period ttc are now treating of disposes of more than one fallacy used by the advocates of Irish national extinction. It proves that Ireland's right does not involve England's wrong. Never before were the two countries more free from jealousy, rivalry, or hostility. Never before was discontent banished from Ireland — a^ never since has disaftection been absent. Lust of dominion — sheer covetousness of mastery — has in all ages been the source and origin of the most wanton invasions and most wicked subjugations. Not even amongst Englishmen themselves does any writer now hesitate to characterize as nefarious, treacherous, and abominable, the scheme by which England invaded and overthrew in 1800 the happily established freedom of Ireland.* Scarcely had the rusty chain of*' Poynings' Act" been wrenched off, than the English minister began to consider how a stronger one might be forged and bound on the liberated Irish nation ! The king's voice characterized the happy and amicable settlement just concluded as ^Jinar\ * English readers as yet uninformed on the subject, and di>'^'^scd to receive with hesitation the statements of Irish writers as i o l-.e infamous means resorted to by the English government to ove/ ^ w the Irish constitution in ISOO. may be referred to the Castlei agn Papers and the Comwallis Correspondence — the private letters of the chief agents in the scheme. Mr. Massey. chairman of com- mittees in the English House of Commons, published, a few years ago, a volume which exposes and characterizes that nefarious transaction in language which might be deemed too strong if used by an Irishman feeling the wrong and suffering from it. tHE STORt OP IRELAKD, 505 The British minister and the British parliament in the most solemn manner declared the same ; and surely no- thing but morbid suspicioasness could discover fair ground for crediting that England would play Ireland false upon that promise — that she would seize the earliest oppor- tunity of not merely breaking that final adjustment", and shackling the Irish parliament anew, but of destroy- ing it utterly and for everl Yet there were men amongst the Irish patriots who did not hesitate to express such suspicions at the moment, and foremost amongst these was Flood. He pressed for further and more specific and formal renunciation. Grattan, on the other hand, yiolentlj resisted this, as an ungenerous efi*ortto put England "on her knees" — to humiliate her — to plainly treat her as a suspected blackleg. On this issue the two patriot leaders violently, acrimoniously, and irreconcileably quarreled; Flood and his following contendin.sf that England would surely betray Ireland on the final adjustment", and Grattan, with the bulk of the national party, vehe- mently refusing to put such ungenerous insult and in- dignity on England as to suppose her capable of such con- duct ! Alas! At that very moment — as the now published correspondence of the English statesmen engaged in the transaction discloses — the British ministers were discus- sing, devising, and directing preparations for accomplish- ing, by the most iniquitous means, that crime against Ireland of which Grattan considered it ungenerous and wicked to express even a suspicion ! It was with good reason the national party, soon after the accomplishment of legislative independence, directed their energies to the qu'^stion of parliamentary reform. The legislative body, which in a moment of great public excitement* and enthusiasm, had been made for a moment to reflect correctly the national will, was after all returned by an antique electoral system, which was a gross farce on representation. Boroughs and seats were at the time openly and literally ozi-n^c? by particular families orpersons, the voting " constituency" sometimes not being more than a dozen in number. As a matter of fact, less than a hun- 5C6 THB; STORY OF IRELAND. dred persons owned seats or boroughs capable of making a majority in the commons. The patriot party naturally and wisely judged that with such a parliament the retention of freedom would be pre- carious, and the representation of the national will uncer- tain; so the question of parliamentary reform came to be agitated with a vehemence second only to that of parlia- mentary independence in the then recent campaign. By this time, however, the British minister had equally de- tected, that while with such a parliament he might accom- plish his treacherous designs, with a parliament really amenable to the people, he never could. Concealing the real motive and the remote object, the government, through its myriad devious channels of influence, as well as openly and avowedly, resisted the demand for reform. Apart from the government, the " vested interests" of the ex- isting system were able to make a protracted fight. Ere long both these sections were leagued together, and they hopelessly outnumbered the popular party. The government now began to feel itself strong, audit accordingly commenced the work of deliberately destroyin^sr the parliament of Ireland. Those whom it coxild influence^ purchase, or corrupt, were one by one removed or bought in market overt. Those who were true to honour and duty, it insolently threatened, insulted, and assailed. The popular demands were treated with defiance and conta- mely by the minister and his co-conspirators. Soon a malign opportunity presented itself for putting Ireland utterly, hopelessly, helplessly into their hands — the sheep committed to the grasp of the wolf for security and pro- tection I THE STOET or IBELAJTD. 50? LXXrX.— HOW THE ENGLISH MESISTEE SAW HIS ADVANTAGE IX PEOTOKIKG lEELAXD IXTO AS AEKED STEUGGLE ; ASD HOW HEAETLE5SLY HE LABOUEED TO THAT EiTD. vr'^ HILE these erents were transpiring in Ireland Y^^^?^^%^^ the French reTclution had burst forth, shaking the whole fabric of European society, rending old systenis with the terrible force of a newly- appeared explosive power. ETerywhere its effects were felt. Everj-where men were struck with wonder. Everywhere the snbtle intoxica- ^ tion of the revolntionary doctrines symbolized oy the terrible drapeau rouge, fired the blood of political enthusiasts. Some hailed the birth of the French republic as the avatar of freedom;* others saw in it the incamatioii * The sentiments evoked in the breasts of most Irish patriots by the first ontbnrst and subsequent proceedii^ of tbe Frendi remlii- tion— enthusiasiD, jov, and hope, folloired by grief, horns; and despair — hare been truthfuDy expressed by Moore in the following matchless Terses : — T is gone and for ever— the light we saw brealdiig lake hearen's first dawn o*er the sleep of the dead; When man from the slumber of ages awaking; Looked upward and blessed the pure ray ere it fled. T is gone — and tlie ^eam it has Idft of its bmning But deepens the kmg night of bondage and m oumiu g That dark o'er the kingdoms of earth Is reCur i iii i& But darkest of all, l^ plpM Erin, o'er tiiee. How high was thy hope whext those ^kxxa were dnting Around thee through all the gross douds of the worid; When Truth, from her fetters imlig Mnfl y starting. At once like a sunburst her banner imfiiiied ! Qh ! nerer shall earth see a mom^t so splendid. Hien^then— had one Hymn of I>eliTeranceblCTded The tongues (rf all nations, how sweet had ascended The first note of liberty, Erin, from thee ! But shame on those tyrants who enried the li li' **?ng . And shame on the light race unworthy its good. Who at Death's leddng altar, like furies rM«agmg The young hope of Fieedom. baptinedilinbkiod! • Then vanished for exer that fair sunny Tision Which, spite of the slavish, the o^d hearths dmskm. Shall long be remembered — ^pure, bright, and eiysiaiv Ag first it arose, my lost ^in, on tbee ! 508 tHE StORY OF IRKULlrtl. of anarchy and infidelity ; an organized ^ar apon social order and upon the Christian religion. It instantly arrayed all Europe in two fiercely hostile camps. Each side spoke and acted with a passionate energy. Old parties and schools of political thought were broken up ; old firiendships and alliances were sundered for erer, on the question whether the French revolution was an einanation from hell or an inspiration from heaven. Ireland, so peculiarly circumstanced, could not fail to be powerfully moved by the great drama unfolded before the world in Paris. Side by side with the march of erents there, from 1789 to 1795, was the rerelation of England's treason against the " final adjustment*' of Irish national rights, and the exasperating demeanonr, langoage, and action of the government in its now arowed determination to conquer right by might. Towards the close of 1791, Theobald Wolfe Tone— a young Protestant barrister of great ability, who had de- Toted himself to the seryice of the Catholics in their efforts for emancipation — visiting Belfast (then the centre and citadel of democratic and liberal, if not indeed of repub- lican opinions),* met there some of the popular leaders. They had marked the treacherous conduct of the gOTem- ment, and they saw no hope for averting the ruin de- signed for Ireland, save in a union of all Irishmen, irre- spective of creed or class, in an open, l^al, and constitu- tional organization for the accomplishment olparliamentary ref(yrm and CathoUc emamctpaii4nu Sodh an organization they forthwith estabHahed. Tone, on his retum to Dublin, pushed its operations there, and it soon embraced ererj man of note on the people's side in politics. The association thus estabH'ihed was called the 8ocietj of United Irishmen, For some time it pursued its labours zealouslj, and, as its first principles exaikedyOpenlj,l^aUy,andconstitu^^ towards the attainment of its mostl^timale objects. But the govemment was winning against the United Irish * In July ol that year (1791>. ilk; Fraich rerohition was cde* fanted with miiitaij pomp in Bdful by the ai^ towDspec^le. THE 8T0EY OF lEELAKD. 509 leaders by strides — pandering to the grossest passions and vices of the oligarchical party, now sedulously inflamed against all popular opinions by the mad-dog cry of " French principles". One by one the popular leaders tired in the hopeless struggle — y^ere overpowered by despair of resist- ing the gross and naked tyranny of the government, which was absolutely and designedly pushing them out of consti- tutional action. Some of them retired from public life. Others of them yielded to the conviction that outside the constitution, if not within it, the struggle might be fought, and the Cnited Irishmen gradually became an oath-bound secret society. From the first hour when an armed struggle came to be contemplated by the United Irish leaders, they very naturally fixed their hopes on France ; and envoys passed and repassed between them and the French Directory. The government had early knowledge of the fact. It was to them news the most welcome. Indeed they so clearly saw their advantage — their certain success — in arraying on their side all who feared a Jacobin revolution, and in identifying in the minds of the property classes anti- Englishism with revolution and infidelity, that their greatest anxiety was to make sure that the United Irish- men would go far enough and deep enough into the scheme. And the government left nothing undone to secure that result. Meanwhile the society in its new character extended itself with marvellous success. Its organization was in- genious, and of course its leaders believed it to be spy- proof. Nearly half a million of earnest and determined men were enrolled, and a considerable portion of them were armed either with pikes or muskets. Indeed, for a moment it seemed not unlikely that the government con- spirators might find they had over-shot their own purpose, and had allowed the or2:anization to develop too far. Up to 1796 they never took into calculation as a serious pro- bability that France would really cast her powerful aid into the scale with Ireland. In the instant when England, startled beyond conception, was awakened to her error on this point by the appearance in Bantry Bay, in December, 510 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 1796, of a formidable e5.peditioii under Hoche* — a sense of danger and alarm possessed her, and it was decided to burst up the insurrectionary design — to force it into con- flict at once; — the peril now being that the armed and organized Irish might bide their time". To drive the Irish into the field — to goad them into action in the hour of England's choice, not their own — was the problem. Its accomplishment was arrived at by- proceedings over which the historical writer or student shudders in horror. Early in 1796, an Insurrection Act was passed, making the administration of an oath identical with or similar to that of the United Irishmen punishable with death I An army of fifty thousand men, subsequently increased to eighty thousand, was let loose upon the country on the atrocious system of " free quarters". Ir- responsible power was conferred on the military officers and local magistracy. The yeomanry, mainly composed of Orangemen, were quartered on the most Catholic districts, while the Irish militia regiments suspected of any sym- pathy with the population were shipped off to England in exchange for foreign troops. '^The military tribunals did not wait for the idle formalities of the civil courts. Soldiers and civilians, yeomen and townsmen, against whom the informer pointed his finger, were taken out and summarily executed. Ghastly forms hung upon the thick- set gibbets, not only in the market places of the country towns and before the public prisons, but on all the bridges of the metropolis. The horrid torture of picketing, and the blood-stained lash, were constantly resorted to, to extort accusations or confessions''.^ Lord Holland gives us a like picture of burning cottages, tortured backs, and frequent executions". The fact is incontrovertible", he says, ^' that the people of Ireland were driven to resis- tance (which, possibly, they meditated before) by the free * This expedition had been obtained from the French Directory by the energy and perseverance of Wolfe Tone, who had been obliged to fly from Ireland. It was dispersed by a storm — a hurri- cane — as it lay m Bantry Bay waiting the arrival of the comman- der's-ship. This storm saved the English power in Ireland. t M'Gee. THE bTOEY OF 1EELA5T). 511 quarters and excesses of the soldiery, which were such as are not permitted id civilised warfare even in an enemy's country. Dr. Dicks.?n, Lord Bishop of Down, ttsaredme that he had seen famiHes returning peaceal^ from Ibnt, assailed without provocation by drunken tiaoopB and yeo- manry, and their wives and daughters expoied to ewerj species of indignity, brutality, and oulngey Cnm whiA neither his (the bishop's) remonstrances, noriiiose of other Protestant gentlemen, could rescue them".* Xo wonder the gallant and humane Sir John Moore — appalled at the infamies of that lustful and brutal soldiery, and unable to repress his sympathy with the hapless Irish peasantry — shoiid have exclaimed, " //* / were an Iruh- man^ I would he a rebel r LXXX. HOW THE BRITISH MliTISTEE FOECED GIST THS mmm. THE FATE OF THE BRAVE LORD EDWARD. — HOW THE BRO- THERS SHEARE3 DIED HAJSTD-IX-HAXD. THE RISISG OF KtSTETY-EIGHT. u^^r HILE the government, by such frightful agen- ^"^^^^^ cies, was trying to force an insurrection, the ^•J^ij^ United Irish leaders were stniniitg every ^^-'S^fl energy to keep the people in restraint untU ^ ' ''^^^^ such time as they could strike and not strike in V '^^^^'^ vain. But in this dreadful game the govem- ment was sure to win eventually. Byadecisira blow at the Society, on the 12th March, 1798, it compelled the United Irishmen to take the field forth-, with or perish. This was the seizure, on that day, in ona swoop, of the Supreme Council or Directory, with all iti returns, lists, and muster-rolls^ while sitting in deHbera^ tion, at the house of Mr. Oliver Bond (one of the council) in Bridge Street, Dublin. This t-errible stroke was almost irreparable. One man, however, escaped by the accident of not having attended, as he intended, that day's council meeting; and him of •Ixttd HoUandi Mevum of tke Whig Part^ 512 TBE STORY OF IRELAND. all others tlie goyernment desired to capture. This was Lord Edward Fitzgerald, son of the Duke of Leinster, com- mander-in-chief of the United Irish military organization. Of all the men who have given their lives in the fatal struggle against the English yoke, not one is more en- deared to Irish popular affection than Lord Edward". While he lived he was idolized ; and with truth it may be said his memory is embalmed in a nation's tears. He had every quality calculated to win the hearts of a people like the Irish. His birth, his rank, his noble lineage, his princely bearing, his handsome person, his frank and chivalrous manner, his generous, warm-hearted nature, his undaunted courage, and, above all, his ardent patriotism, combined to render Lord Edward the beau ideal of a popu- lar leader. He was", says a writer whose labours to assure the fame and vindicate in history the gallant band of whom the youthful Geraldine was amongst the fore- most, should never be forgotten by Irishmen — " as play- ful and humble as a child, as mild and timid as a lady, and, when necessary, as brave as a lion".* Such was the man on whose head a price of one thou- sand pounds was now set by the government. On the arrest of the directory at Bond's, three men of position and ability stepped forward into the vacant council-seats; the bro- thers John and Henry Sheares, and Doctor Lawless ; and upon these and Lord Edward now devolved the responsi- bility of controlling the organization. Lord Edward in- sisted on an immediate rising. He saw that by the aid of spies and informers the government was in possession of their inmost secrets, and that every day would be mining their organization. To wait further for aid from France would be utter destruction to all their plans. Accordingly, it was decided that on the 23rd May next following, the standard of insurrection should be unfurled, and Ireland appeal to the ultima ratio of oppressed nations. The government heard thi^, through their spies, with a sense of relief and of diabolical satisfaction. Efforts to Dr. H. R. Madden, Lives and Times of tJie United Irishmen. (ILs.'ptan of Ecru ClitDaio. 33 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 515 secure Lord Edward were now pursued wifh desperate activity; yet he remained in Dublin eluding his enemies for eight weeks after the arrests at Bond's, guarded, con- voyed, sheltered by tbe people with a devotion for which history has scarcely a parallel. The 23rd of May was approaching fast, and still Lord Edward was at large. The Castle conspirators began to fear that after all their machinations they might find themselves face to face with an Irish Washington. Within a few days, however, of the ominous 23rd, treason gave them the victory, and placed the noble Geraldine within their grasp. On the night of the 18th May, he was brought to the house of a Mr. Nicholas Murphy, a feather merchant, of 153 Thomas Street. He had been secreted in this same house before, but had been removed, as it was deemed essential to change his place of concealment very fre- quently. After spending some short time at each of several other places in the interval, he was, on the night already mentioned, a second time brought to Mr. Mur- phy's house. On the evening of the next day. Lord Edward, after dining with his host, retired to his chamber, intending to lie down for a while, being suffering from a cold* Mr. Murphy followed him up stairs to speak to him about something, when the noise of feet softly but quickly springing up the stair caught his ear, and in- stantly the door was thrown open and a police magistrate named Swan, accompanied by a soldier, rushed into the room. Lord Edward was lying on the bed with his coat and vest off. He sprang from the bed, snatching from under the pillow a dagger. Swan thrust his right hand into an inside breast pocket where his pistols were ; but Lord Edward, divining the object, struck at that spot, and sent his dagger- through Swan's hand, penetrating his body. Swan shouted that he was " murdered" ; neverthe- less, with his wounded hand he managed to draw his pistol and fire at Lord Edward. The shot missed ; but at this moment another of the polrv/C party, named Ryan (a yeomanry captain), rushed in, armed with a drawn cane- sword, and Major Sirr, with half a-dozen soldiers, hurried up stairs, Eyan flung himself on Lord Edward, and STS THE STORY OF IRELAND. tried to hold him down on the bed, but he could not, and the pair, locked in deadly combat, rolled upon the floor. Lord Edward received some deadly thrusts from Ryan's sword, but he succeeded in freeing his right hand, and quick as he could draw his arm, plunged the dagger again and again into Ryan's body. The yeomanry cap- tain, though wounded mortally all over, was still strug- gling with Lord Edward on the floor when Sirr and the soldiers arrived. Sirr, pistol in hand, feared to grapple with the enraged Geraldine; but, watching his oppor- tunity, took deliberate aim at him and fired. The ball struck Lord Edward in the right shoulder ; the dagger fell from his grasp, and Sirr and the soldiers flung them- selves upor him in a body. Still it required their ut- most efforts to hold him down, some of them stabbing and hacking at him with shortened swords and clubbed pistols, while others held him fast. At length, weakened from wounds and loss of blood, he fainted. They took a sheet off the bed and rolled the almost inanimate body in it, and dragged their victim down the narrow stair. The floor of the room, all over blood, an eye-witness says, resembled a slaughter-house, and even the walls were dashed with gore. Meantime a crowd had assembled in the street, attracted by the presence of the soldiers around the house. The instant it became known that it was Lord Edward that had been captured, the people flung themselves on the military, and after a desperate struggle had overpowered them but for the arrival of a large body of cavalry, who eventually succeeded in bringing off Lord Edward to the Castle. Here his wounds were dressed. On being told by the doctor that they were not likely to prove fatal, he ex- claimed: I am sorry to hear it". He was removed to Newgate, none of his friends being allowed access to him until the 3rd of June, when they were told that he was dying! His aunt. Lady Louisa Connolly, and his brother, Lord Henry Fitzgerald, were then permitted to see him. They found him delirious. As he lay on his fever pallet in the dark and narrow cell of that accursed bastile, his ears were dinned with horrid noises that his brutal jailors took care THE STORY OF IRELAND. 517 to tell him were caused by the workmen erecting barriers around the gallows fixed for a forthcoming execution. Next day, 4th June, 1798, he expired. As he died un- convicted, his body was given up to his friends, but only on condition that no funeral would be attempted. In the dead of night they conveyed the last remains of the noble Lord Edward from New^gate to the Kildare vault beneath St. Wer- burgh's Protestant Church, Dublin, where they now repose. A few days after Lord Edward's capture — on Monday, 21st May — the brothers Sheares were arrested, one at his residence in Lower Baggot Street, the other at a friend's house in French Street, having been betrayed by a government agent named Armstrong, who had wormed himself into their friendship and confidence for the purpose of effecting their ruin. On the evening pre- vious to their capture he was a guest in the bosom of their family, sitting at their fireside, fondling on his knee the infant child of one of the victims, whose blood was to drip from the scaffold in Green Street, a few weeks latei;, through his unequalled infamy ! On the 12th July, John and Henry Sheares were brought to trial, and the fiend Armstrong appeared on the witness table and swore away their lives. Two days after- wards the martyr-brothers were executed, side by side. Indeed they fell through the drop hand clasped in hand, having, as they stood blindfolded on the trap, in the brief moment before the bolt was drawn, by an instinct of holy affection strong in death, each one reached out as best he could his pinioned hand, and grasped that of his brother ! The capture of Lord Edward, so quickly followed by the arrest of the brothers Sheares, was a death-blow to the insurrection, as far as concerned any preconcerted move- ment. On the night of the appointed day an abortive rising took place in the neighbourhood of the metropolis. On the same day Kildare, Lord Edward's county, took the field, and against hopeless disadvantages made a gallant stand. .. Meath also kept its troth, as did Down and An- trim^ in the north keep theirs, but only to a like bloody sacrifice, and in a few days it seemed that all was over. But a county almost free from complicity in the organize- 518 THE STORY OF IRELAND. tion, a county in which no one on either side had appre- hended revolt, was now about to show the world what Irish peasants, driven to desperation, defending their homes and altars, could dare and do. Wexford, heroic and glorious Wexford, was now about to show that even one county of Ireland's thirty-two could engage more than half the available army of England! Wexford rose, not in obedience to any call from the united Irish organization, but purely and solely from the instinct of self-preservation. Although there was proba- bly no district in Ireland so free from participation in the designs of that association (there were scarcely two hundred enrolled United Irishmen amongst its entire popu- lation), all the horrors of free-quarters and martial law had been let loose on the county. Atrocities that sicken the heart in their contemplation, filled with terror the homes of that peaceful and inoffensive people. The mid- night skies were reddened with the flames of burning cottages, and the glens resounded with shrieks of agony, vengeance, and despair. Homes desolated, female virtue made the victim of crimes that cannot be named, the gib- bet and the triangle erected in every hamlet, and finally, the temples of God desecrated and given to the torch, left manhood in Wexford no choice but that which to its eternal honour it made. Well and bravely Wexford fought that fight. It was the wild rush to arms of a tortured peasantry, unprepared, unorganized, unarmed. Yet no Irishman has need to *^hang his head for shame" when men speak of gallant Wexford in Ninety-eight. Battle for battle, the men of that county beat the best armies of the king, until their relative forces became out of all proportion. Neither Tell in Switzerland nor Hofer in the Tyrol earned immortality more glori- ously than that noble band of the " the sister-counties", Wexford and Wicklow — Beauchamp Bagenal Harvey ; Colclough of Tintern Abbey; Fitzgerald of Newpark; Miles Byrne, and Edmond Kyan, in the one ; and the patriot brothers Byrne of Ballymanus, with Holt, Hackett, and ^' brave Michael Dwyer", in the other. And, as he who studies the history of this country will note, in all its THE STORY OF IRELAND. 519 struggles for seven hundred years, the priests of Ireland, ever fearless to brave the anger of the maddened people, restraining them while conflict might be avoided, were -€ver readiest to die, Whether on the scaffold high Or in the battle's van — fiide by side with the people, when driven to the last re- sort. Fathers John and Michael Murphy, Father Roche, and Father Clinch, are names that should ever be remem- bered by Irishmen when tempters whisper that the voice of the Catholic pastor, raised in warning or restraint, is the utterance of one who cannot feel for, who would not die for, the flock he desires to save. Just as the short and bloody struggle had terminated, there appeared in Killala Bay the first instalment of that aid from France for which the United Irish leaders had desired to w^ait! If they could have resisted the govern- ment endeavours to precipitate the rising for barely three or four months longer, it is impossible to say how the movement might have resulted. On the 22nd August, the French general, Humbert, landed at Killala with barely cne thousand men. Miserable as was this force, a few months earlier it would have counted for twenty thou- sand ; but now, ten thousand, much less ten hundred, would not avail. They came too late, or the rising was too soon. Nevertheless, with this handful of men, joined by a few thousand hardy Mayo peasantry, Humbert lite- rally chased the government troops before him across the island ; and it was not until the viceroy himself. Lord Cornwallis, hurrying from Dublin, concentrated around the Franco- Irish army of three thousand men a force of nearly thirti/ thousand, enveloping them on all sides — and, of course, hopelessly overpowering them — that the victorious march of the daring Frenchman was arrested by the com- plete defeat and capitulation of Ballinamuck, on the morning of the 8th September, 1798. It was the last battle of the insurrection. Within a fortnight subsequently two further and smaller expedi- tions from France reached the northern coast ; one accom- 520 THE STORY OF IRELAND, panied by Napper Tandy (an exiled United Irish leader)^ and another under Admiral Bompart ■with Wolfe Tone on board. The latter one was attacked by a powerful Eng- lish fleet and captured. Tone, the heroic and indefatigable^ was sent in irons to Dublin, where he was tried by court- martial and sentenced to be hung. He pleaded hard for a soldier's death ; but his judges were inexorable. It turned out, however, that his trial and conviction were- utterly illegal, as martial law had ceased, and the ordinary tribunals were sitting at the time. At the instance of the illustrious Irish advocate, orator, and patriot, Curran, an order was obtained against the military authorities to de- liver Tone over to the civil court. The order was at first resisted, but ultimately the official of the court was in- formed that the prisoner *'had committed suicide". He died a few days after, of a wound in his throat, possibly inflicted by himself, to avert the indignity he so earnestly deprecated ; but not improbably, as popular conviction has it, the work of a murderous hand ; for fouler deeds were done in the government dungeons in those dark and evil days". The insurrection of '98 was the first rebellion on the part of the Irish people* for hundreds of years. The revolt of the Puritan colonists in 1641, and that of their descen- dants, the Protestant rebels of 1690, were not /mA move- ments in any sense of the phrase. It was only after 1605 that the English government could, by any code of moral obligations whatever, be held entitled to the obedience of the Irish people, whose struggles previous to that date were lawful efforts in defence of their native and legiti- mate rulers against the English invaders. And never, subsequently to 1605, up to the period at which we have now arrived — 1798 — did the Irish people revolt or rebel against the new sovereignty.. On the contrary, in 1641,. they fought for the king, and lost heavily by their loyalty. In 1690 once more they fought for the king, and again they paid a terrible penalty fo^ their fidelity to the sove- reign. In plain truth, the Irish are, of all peoples, the most disposed to respect constituted authority where it is en- titled to respect, and the most ready to repay even the- THE STORY OF IRELAND. 521 shortest measure of justice on the part of the sovereign, by generous, faithful, enduring, and self-sacrificing loyalty. They are a law-abiding people — or rather a justice-loving people ; for their contempt for law becomes extreme when it is made the antithesis of justice. Nothing but terrible provocation could have driven such a people into rebellion. Kebellion against just and lawful government is a great crime. Kebellion against constituted government of any character is a terrible responsibility. There are circum- stances under which resistance is a duty, and where, it may be said, the crime would be rather in slavish or cowardly acquiescence ; but awful is the accountability of him who undertakes to judge that the measure of justifica- tion is full, that the moral duty of resistance is established by the circumstances, and that, not merely in figure of speech, but in solemn reality, no other resort remains. But, however all this may be, the publi' code of which it is a part rightly recognizes a great distinction in favour of a people who are driven into the field to defend their homes and altars against brutal military violence. Such were the heroic men of Wexford ; and of the United Irish- men it is to be remembered that if they pursued an ob- ject unquestionably good and virtuous in itself, outside, not within, the constitution, it was not by their own choice. They were no apostles of anarchy, no lovers of revolution, no rebels for a theory". They were not men who de- cried or opposed the more peaceful action of moral force agencies. They would have preferred them, had a choice fairly been left them. There was undoubtedly a French Jacobinical spirit tinging the views of many of the Dublin and Ulster leaders towards the close, but under all the cir- cumstances this was inevitable. With scarcely an excep- tion, they were men of exemplary moral characters, high social position, of unsullied integrity, of brilliant intellect^ of pure and lofty patriotism. They were men who honestly desired and endeavoured, while it was permitted to them, so to do, by lawful and constitutional means, to save and serve their country, but who, by an infamous conspiracy of the government, were deliberately forced upon resistance 522 THE STORY OF IRELAND. as a patriot's duty, and who at the last sealed with their blood their devotion to Ireland. ^' More than twenty years have passed away", says Lord Holland ; many of my political opinions are soft- ened, my predilections for some men weakened, my pre- judices against others removed; but my approbation of Lord Edv*ard Fitzgerald's actions remains unaltered and unshaken. His country was bleeding under one of the hardest tyrannies that our times have witnessed. He who thinks that a man can be even excused in such circum- stances by any other consideration than that of despair from opposing by force a pretended government, seems to me to sanction a principle which would insure impunity to the greatest of all human delinquents, or at least to those who produce the greatest misery among mankind".* LXXXI. HOW THE GOVERNMENT CONSPIRACY NOW ACHIEVED ITS PURPOSE. HOW THE PARLIAMENT OF IRELAND WAS EXTINGUISHED. ORRORS, says Sir Jonah Barrington, "were kr ^'^^v ' everywhere recommenced, executions were mul- ^S^^l^ tiplied. The government had now achieved the very climax of public terror on which they had so much counted for inducing Ireland to throw herself into the arms of the ' protecting' country. Mr. Pitt conceived that the moment had ar- rived to try the effect of his previous measures, to promote a legislative union, acd annihilate the parlia- ment of Ireland". " On the 22nd January, 1799, the Irish legislature met under circumstances of great interest and excitement. The city of Dublin, always keenly alive to its metropoli- tan interests, sent its eager thousands by every avenue * Lord Holland, Memoirs of the Whig Party, THE STORY OF IRELAND, 523 towards College Green. The viceroy went down to ttie houses with a more than ordinary guard, and being seated on the throne in the House of Lords, the Commons were summoned to the bar. The viceregal speech congratulated both houses on the suppression of the late rebellion, on the defeat of Bompart's squadron, and the recent French victories of Lord Nelson ; then came, amid profound ex- pectation, this concluding sentence: — " * The unremitting industry', said the viceroy, * with which our -enemies persevere in their avowed design of endeavouring to effect a separation of this kingdom from Great Britain must have en- gaged your attention, and his Majesty commands me to express his anxious hope that this consideration, joined to the sentiment of mutual affection and common interest, may dispose the parliaments in both kingdoms to provide the most effectual means of maintain- ing and improving a connection essential to their common security, and of consolidating, as far as possible, into one firm and lasting fabric, the strength, the power, and the resources of the British -empire'. " On the paragraph of the address reechoing this senti- ment (which was carried by a large majority in the lords), a debate ensued in the commons which lasted till one o'clock of the following day, above twenty consecutive hours. The galleries and lobbies were crowded all night by the first people of the city, of both sexes, and when the division was being taken the most intense anxiety was manifested within doors and without".* One hundred and eleven members had declared against the Union, and when the doors were opened, one hundred and five were discovered to be the total number of the minister's adherents. The gratification of the anti- Unionists was unbounded; and as they walked delibe- rately in, one by one, to be counted, the eager specta- tors, ladies as well as gentlemen, leaning over the gal- leries ignorant of the result, were panting with expec- tation. Lady Castlereagh, then one of the finest women of the court, appeared in the sergeant's box, palpitating for her husband's fate. The desponding appearance and M'Gee. 524 THE STORY OF IRELAND. fallen crests of the ministerial benches, and the exulting air of the opposition members as they entered, were in« telligible. The murmurs of suppressed anxiety would have excited an interest even in the most unconnected stranger, who had known the objects and importance of the contest. How much more, therefore, must every Irish breast which panted in the galleries, have experienced that thrilling enthusiasm which accompanies the achievement of patriotic actions, when the minister's defeat was announced from the chair ! A due sense of respect and decorum restrained the galleries within proper bounds ; but a low cry of satisfaction from the female audience could not be prevented, and no sooner was the event made known out of doors, than the crowds that had waited during the en- tire night with increasing impatience for the vote which was to decide on the independence of their country, sent forth loud and reiterated shouts of exultation, which, re- sounding through the corridors, and penetrating to the body of the house, added to the triumph of the conquerors, and to the misery of the adherents of the conquered minister".* The minister was utterly and unexpectedly worsted in his first attack ; but he was not shaken from his purpose. He could scarcely have credited that, notwithstanding his previous laborious machinations of terror and seduction, there could still be found so much of virtue, courage, and independence in the pailiament. However, this bitter de- feat merely caused him to fall back for the purpose of approaching by mine the citadel he had failed to carry by assault. The majority against him was narrow. The gaining o£ twenty or thirty members would make a differ- ence of twice that number on a division. " All the wea- pons of seduction were in his hands", says Sir Jonah Barrington, and to acquire a majority, he had only to overcome the wavering and the feeble". Thirty-two new county judgeships", says another writer, *' were crea- ted; a great number of additional inspectorships were * Sir Jonah Barrington, Rise and Fall of the Irish Nation* THE STORY OF IRELAND. 525 also placed at the minister's disposal ; thirteen members had peerages for themselves or for their -wives, with re- mainder to their children, and nineteen others "were pre- sented to various lucrative offices". Both parties — Unionists and anti- Unionists, traitors and patriots — felt that during the parliamentary recess the issue would really be decided; for by the time the next session opened the minister would have secured his ma- jority if such an end was possible. The interval, accord- ingly, was one of painfully exciting struggle, each party straining every energy. The government had a persuasive story for every sectional interest in the country. It secretly assured the Catholic bishops, nay, solemnly pledged itself, that if the Union were carried, one of the first acts of the imperial parliament should be Catholic emancipation. " An Irish parliament will never grant it, can never afford to grant it", said the Castle tempter. " The fears of the Protestant minority in this country will make them too much afraid of you. We alone can afford to rise above this miserable dread of your numbers". To the Protestants, on the other hand, the minister held out arguments just as insidious, as treacherous, and as fraudu- lent. " Behold the never-ceasing efforts of these Catho- lics! Do what you will, some day they must over- whelm you, being seven to one against you. There is no safety for you, no security for the Irish Protestant Church establishment, unless in a union with us. In Ireland, as a kingdom, you are in a miserable minority, sure to be some day overwhelmed and destroyed. United to Great Britain, you will be an indivisible part of one vast Protestant ma- jority, and can afford to defy the Papists". Again, to the landed gentry, the terrors of " French principles", constant plots and rebellions, were artfully held forth. " No safety for society, no security for pro- perty, except in a union with Great Britain". Even the populace, the peasantry, were attempted to be overreached also, by inflaming them against the landlords as base yeo- manry tyrants, whose fears of the people would ever make them merciless oppressors! • ; And it is curious to note that in that day— 1799 and 526 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 1800 — the identical great things that in our own time are still about to happen, and have always been about to hap- pen, (but are n^y^r happening) since 1800, were loudly pro- claimed as the inevitable first fruits of a union. " English capitaV^ was to flow into Ireland by the million, owing"^ as the ministerialists sagaciously put it, " to the stability of Irish institutions when guaranteed by the union'^ Like infallible arguments were ready to show that com- merce must instantaneously expand beyond calculation, and manufactures spring up as if by magic, all over the island. Peace, tranquillity, prosperity, contentment, and loyalty, must, it was likewise sagely argued, flow from the measure; for the Irish would see the uselessness of rebel- ling against an united empire, and would be so happy that disaffection must become utterly unknown. Nay, whoso- ever consults the journals of that period, will find even the government dockyard at Cork", and other stock jobs of promised concession", figuring then just as they figure now.* But the endeavour to influence public opinion proved futile, and the minister found he must make up his mind to go through with a naked, unsparing, unscrupulous, and unblushing corruption of individuals. Many of the Catho- lic bishops were overreached by the solemn pledge of emancipation; but the overwhelming majority of the clergy, and the laity almost unanimously, scouted the idea of expediting their emancipation by an eternal betrayal of their country. The Orangemen on the other hand were equally patriotic. All the Protestant bishops but two were gained over by the minister; yet the Protestant organiza- tions every where passed resolutions, strong almost to sedi- tion, against the union. Most important of all was the patriotic conduct of the Irish Bar. They held a meeting to discuss the proposition of a "union", and notwith- standing the open threats of government vengeance, and * The vote of Mr. Eobert Pitzgerald, of Corkabeg, was secured by "Lord Cornwallis assuring him that in the event of the union a royal dock-yard would be built at Cork, which would double the value of his estates". Barrington*s Rise and Fall of the Irish Nation, THE STORY OF IRELAND. 527 public offers of reward'' or bribe, there were found but thirty-two members of the bar to support the ministerial proposition, while one hundred and sixty-six voted it a treason against the country. The next session, the last of the Irish parliament, as- sembled on the 15th January, 1800. The minister had counted every man, and by means the most iniquitous secured the requisite majority. Twenty-seven new peers had been added to the House of Lords, making the union project all safe there. In the Commons some thirty or forty seats had been changed by bargain with the owners of the boroughs. It was doubtful that any bona fide con- stituency in Ireland — even one — could be got to sanction the union scheme ; so the minister had to carry on his operations with what were called patronage boroughs", or " pocket-boroughs". The patriot party felt convinced that they were out- numbered, but they resolved to fight the battle vehemently while a chance remained. At the worst, if overborne in such a cause, they could expose the real nature of the transaction, and cause its illegality, infamy, and fraud, to be con- fessed ; so that posterity might know and feel the right and the duty of appealing against, and recovering against, the crime of that hour. They persuaded Grattan to reenter parliament* to aid them in this last defence of his and their country's liberties. He was at the moment lying on a bed of sickness, yet he assented, and it was decided to have him returned for Wicklow town, that borough being the property of a friend. The writ was duly applied for, but the government withheld its issue up to the last mo- ment allowed by law, designing to prevent Grattan's re- turn in time for the debate on the address to the throne, the first trial of strength. Nevertheless, by a feat almost unprecedented in parliamentary annals, that object was attained. It was not until the day of the meeting of parliament that the writ was delivered to the returning * Tliree years before, he and many others of the patriot party had quitted parliament in despair. 528 THE STORr OF IRELAND. officer. By extraordinary exertions, and perhaps by fol- loTYing the example of government in overstraining the law, the election was held immediately on the arrival of the writ ; a sufficient number of votes were collected to return Mr. Grattan before midnight. By one o'clock the return was on its road to Dublin ; it arrived by five ; a party cf Mr. Grattan's friends repaired to the house of the proper officer, and making him get out of bed, compelled him to present the writ in parliament before seven in the morning, when the house was in warm debate on the Union. A whisper ran through every party that Mr. Grattan was elected, and would immediately take his seat. The minis- terialists smiled with incredulous derision, and the oppo- sition thought the news too good to be true. Mr. Egan was speaking strongly against the measure, when Mr. George Ponsonby and Mr. Arthur Moore walked cut, and immediately returned, leading, or rather helping, Mr. Grattan, in a state of feebleness and debility. The effect was electric. Mr. Grattan's illness and deep chagrin had reduced a form never symmetrical, and a visage at all times thin, nearly to the appearance of a spectre. As he feebly tottered into the house, every member simultane- ously rose from his seat. He moved slowly to the table ; his languid countenance seemed to revive as he took those oaths that restored him to hie preemiinent station; the smile of inward satisfaction obviously illuminated his fea- tuies, and reanimation and energy seemed to kindle by the labour of his mind. The house was silent. Mr. Egan did not reoume his speech. Mr. Grattan, almost breathless, as if by inbtinct attempted to rise, but was unable to stand ; he paused, and with difficulty requested permission of the house to deliver his sentiments without moving from his seat. This was acceded to by acclamation, and he who had left his bed of sickness to accord as he thought his last words in the parliament of his country, kindled gra- dually till his language glowed with an energy and feel- ing which he had seldom surpassed, After nearly two hours of the most powerful eloquence, he concluded with an undiminished vigour miraculous to those who were un-i acquainted with his intellect". THE STORY OF IRELAND. 523 The debate lasted for sixteen consecutive hours. It « trayed them were set oyer them as judges and rulers. And when, by means as nefanous as those that had car- ried the union, this last attempt of the Irish people to devote themselves to peaceful and constitutional action was baffled, defeated, trampled down, when the Tenant League" had been broken up, and its leaders scattered — when Gavan Duffy had been driven into despairing exile, when Lucas had been sent broken-hearted into the grave, and Moore, the intrepid leader, the unequalled orator, had been relegated to private life, a shout of victory again went up from the press of England, as if a Trafalgar had been won. LXXXVII. HOW SOME IRISHMEN TOOK TO '*THE POLITICS OP despair". HOW ENGLAXD's RRYOLUTIONARY TEACHINGS CAME HOME TO ROOST". HOW GENEP^L JOHN o'neILL GAVE COLONEL BOOKER A TOnCH OF FONTBNOY AT RIDGE- WAY. V, LL may deplore, but none can wonder, that un- der circumstances such as those, a considerable section of the Irish people should have lent a ready ear to " the politics of despair"'. In vain the hero's heart had bled, ^ The sage^s voice had warned in vain. In the face of all the lessons of history they would conspire anew, and dream once more of grappling England on the battlefield ! They were in the mood to hearken to any proposal, no matter how wild ; to dare any risk, no matter how great; to follow any man, no matter whom he might be, promising to lead them to vengeance. Such a proposal presented itself in the shape of a conspiracy, an oath-bound secret society, designated the " Fenian Brotherhood", which made its appearance about this time. The project was strenuously reprehended by every one of the " Forty-eight" leaders with scarcely an exception, and by the Catholic clergy uni- Tersally ; in other words, bj every patriotic influence in THE STORY OF IRELA3JD. 569 Ireland not reft of leason by despair. The first leaders of the conspiracy were not men well recommended to Irish confidence, and in the venomous manner in which they as- sailed all who endeavoured to dissuade the people from their plot, they showed that they had not only copied the forms, but imbibed the spirit of the continental secret societies. But the maddened people were ready to follow and worship any leader whose project gave a voice to the terrible passions surging in their breasts. They were ready to believe in him in the face of all warning, and at his bidding to distrust and denounce friends and guides whom, ordinarily, they would have followed to the death. In simple truth the fatuous conduct of England had so prepared the soil and sown the seed, that the conspirator had but to step in and reap the crop. In 1843 she had answered to the people that their case would not he listened to. To the peaceful and amicable desire of Ireland to reason the questions at issue, England answered in the well-remembered words of the Times: ''''Repeal must not be argued witK^ — If the Union were gall it must he main- tained'\ In other words, England, unable to rely on the weight of any other argument, flung the sword into the scale, and cried out: " Vae YictisI" In the same year she showed the Irish people that loyalty to the throne, respect for the laws, and reliance exc'a-ively on moral force, did not avail to save them from violence. When O'Connell was dragged to jail as a " conspirator" — a man notoriously the most loyal, peaceable, and law-re- specting in the land — the people unhappily seemed to con- clude that they might as well be real conspirators, for any distinction England would draw between Inshmen pleading the just cause of their country. But there was yet a further reach of infatuation, and apparently England was resolved to leave no incitement unused in driving the Irish upon the policy of violence— of hate and hostility implacable. At the very time when the agents of the secret society were preaching to the Irish people the doctrines of revo- lution, the English press resounded with like teachings. The 570 THE STORY OF IRELAND. Bovereign and her ministers proclaimed them; parliament reechoed them; England with unanimous voice shouted them aloud. The right, nay, the duty of a people consider- ing themselves, or fancying themselves, oppressed, to conspire and revolt against their rulers — even native and legitimate rulers — "was day hy day thundered forth by the English journals. Yet more than this. The most blister- ing taunts were flung against peoples who, fancying them- selves oppressed, hoped to be righted by any means save by conspiracy, revolt, war, bloodshed, eternal resistance and hostility. " Let all such peoi)les know", wrote the Times, that liberty is a thing to be fought out with knives and swords and hatchets^*. To be sure these general propositions were formulated for the express use of the Italians at the time. So utterly had England's anxiety to overthrow the papacy blinded her, that she never once recollected that those incitements were being hearkened to by a hot-blooded and passionate people like the Irish. At the worst, however, she judged the Irish to be too completely cowed to dream of apply- ing them to their own case. At the very moment when William Smith O'Brien was freely sacrificing or perilling his popularity in the endeavour to keep his countrymen from the revolutionary secret society, the Times — blind, stone-blind, to the state of the facts — blinded by intense national prejudice — assailed him truculently, as an anti- quated traitor who could not get one man — not even one f)i(xn — in all Ireland to share his " crazy dream" of na- tional autonomy. Alas ! So much for England's ability to understand the Irish people ! So much for her ignorance of a country which she insists on ruling ! Up to 1864 the Fenian enterprise — the absurd idea of challenging England (or rather accepting her challenge) to a war-duel — strenuously resisted by the Catholic clergy and other patriotic influences, made comparatively little head- way in Ireland. In America, almost from the outset it secured large support. For England had filled the western continent with an Irish population burning for vengeance upon the power that had hunted them from their own tfiE STORY OF IRELANI). land. On the termination of the great civil war of 1861- 1864, a vast army of Irish soldiers, trained, disciplined, and experienced — of valonr proven on many a well-fonght field, and each man wiliicg to cross the globe a hundred times for blow at England" — were disengaged from service. Suddenly the Irish revolutionary enterprise assumed in America a magnitude that startled and overwhelmed its originators. It was no longer the desperate following of an autocratic chief-conspirator, blindly bowing to his nod. It grew into the dimensions of a great national con- federation with an army and a treasury at its disposal. The expansion in America was not without a correspond- ing effect in Ireland ; but it was after all nothing propor- tionate. There was up to the last a fatuous amount ol delusion maintained by the " Head Centre" on this side of the Atlantic, James Stephens, a man of marvellous subtlety and wondrous powers of plausible imposition; crafty, cunning, and quite unscrupulous as to the employ- ment of means to an end. However, the army ready to hand in America, if not utilised at once, would soon be melted away and gone, like the snows of past winters. So in the middle of 1865 it was resolved to take the field in the approaching autumn. It is hard to contemplate this decision or declaration, without deeming it either insincere or wicked on the part of the leader or leaders, who at the moment knew the real condition of affairs in Ireland. That the enrolled members, howsoever few, would respo:id when called upon, was certain at any time ; for the Irish are not cowards ; the men who joined this desperate enterprise were sure to prove themselves courageous, if not either prudent or wise. But the pretence of the revolutionary chief, that there was a force able to afford the merest chance of success, was too utterly false not to be plainly criminal. Towards the close of 1865 came almost contempora- neously the government swoop on the Irish revolutionary executive, and the deposition — after solemn judicial trial, as prescribed by the laws of the society — of O'Mahony, the American " Head Centre", for crimes and offences alleged to be worse than mere imbecility, and the election in his stead 5/2 The stoRir of Ireland. ofColonel William E. Roberts, an Irish- American merchant ofhigh standing and honourable character, whose fortune had always generously aided Irish patriotic, charitable, or religious purposes. Ihe deposed official, however, did not submit to the application of the society rules. He set up a rival association, a course in which he was supported by the Irish Head Centre; and a painful scene of factious and acrimonious contention between the two parties thus antagonised, caused the English government to hope — nay, for a moment, fully to believe — that the disappearance of both must soon follow. This hope quickly vanished when, on reliable intelligence, it was announced that the Irish-Americans, under the Eoberts' presidency, were substituting for the unreal or insincere project of an expedition to Ireland, as the first move, the plainly practicable scheme of an invasion of British North America in the first instance. The Times at once declared that now indeed England had need to buckle on her armour, for that the adoption of this new project showed the men in America to be in earnest, and to have sound military judgment in their councils. An invasion of Ireland by the Irish in the United States all might laugh at, but an invasion of Canada from the same quarter was quite another matter ; the southern frontier of British North America being one impossible to defend in its entirety, unless by an army of one hundred thousand men. Clearly a vulnerable point of the British empire had been discovered. This was a grievous hardship on the people of Canada. They had done no wrong to Ireland or to the Irish people. In Canada Irishmen had found friendly asylum, liberty, and protection* It seemed, therefore, a cruel resolve to visit on Canada the terrible penalty of war for the offences of the parent country. To this the reply from the confe- derate Irish in the States was, that they would wage no war on the Canadian prople ; that it was only against British power their hostility would be exercised; and that Canada had no right to expect enjoyment of all the advantages, without experiencing, on the other hand, the disadvan- tages, of British connection. TWE STORY OF IRELAND. 573 It seemed very clear that England stood a serious chance of losing her North American dependencies. One hope alone remained. If the American government would but defend the frontier on its own side, and cut the inyading parties from their base of supplies, the enterprise must naturally and inevitably fail. It seemed impossible, how- ever, that the American government could be prevailed upon thus to become a British preventive police. During the civil war the Washington executive, and, indeed, the universal sentiment and action of the American people, had plainly and expressly encouraged the Fenian organi- zation ; and even so recently as the spring of 1866, the American government had sold to the agents of Colonel Roberts thousands of pounds worth of arms and munitions of war, with the clear, though unofficial, knowledge that they were intended for the projected Canadian enterprise. Nevertheless, as we shall see, the American executive had no qualms about adopting the outrageously inconsis- tent course. By the month of May, 1866, Roberts had established a line of depots along the Canadian frontier, and in great part filled them with the arms and material of war sold to him by the Washington government. Towards the close of the month the various " circles" throughout the Union re- ceived the command to start their contingents for the frontier. Never, probably, in Irish history was a call to the field more enthusiastically obeyed. From every state in the Union there was a simultaneous movement north- wards of bodies of Irishmen ; the most intense excitement pervading the Irish population from Maine to Texas. At this moment, however, the Washington government flung off the mask. A vehement and bitterly-worded procla- mation called for the instantaneous abandonment of the Irish projects. A powerful military force was marched to the northern frontier; United States gunboats were posted on the lakes and on the St. Lawrence river ; all the arms and war material of the Irish were sought out, seized, and confiscated, and all the arriving contingents, on mere sus- picion of their destination, were arrested. This course of proceeding fell like a thunderbolt on the 574 THE STORY OF IRELAND. Irish ! It seemed impossible to credit its reality ! Despite all those obstacles, however — a British army on one shore, an American army on the other, and hostile cruisers, British and American, guarding the waters between — one small battalion of the Irish under Colonel John O'Neill succeeded in crossing to the Canadian side on the night of the 31st May, 1866. They landed on British ground close to Fort Erie, which place they at once occupied, hauling down the royal ensign of England, and hoisting over Furt Erie in its stead, amidst a scene of boundless enthusiasm and joy, the Irish standard of green and gold. The news that the Irish were across the St. Lawrence — that once more, for the first time for half a century, the green flag waved in the broad sunlight over the serried lines of men in arms for "the good old cause" — sent the Irish millions in the States into wild excitement. In twenty-four hours fifty thousand volunteers offered for service, ready to march at an hour's notice. But the Washington government stopped all action on the part of the Irish organization. Colonel Eoberts, his military chief officer, and other officials, were arrested, and it soon became plain the unexpected intervention of the American execu- tive had utterly destroyed, for the time, the Canadian pro- ject, and saved to Great Britain her North American colonies. Meanwhile O'Neill and his small force were in the enemy's country — in the midst of their foes. From all parts of Canada troops were hurried forward by rail to crush at once by overwhelming force the now isolated Irish battalion. On the morning of the 1st of June, 1866, Colonel Booker, at the head of the combined British force of regular infantry of the line and some volunteer regi- ments, marched against the invaders. At a place called Limestone Eidge, close by the village of Eidgeway, the advanced guard of the British found O'Neill drawn up in position ready for battle. The action forthwith commenced. The Irish skirmishers appeared to fall back slowly before their assailants, a circumstance which caused the Canadian volunteer regiments to conclude hastily that the day was going very easily in their favour. Suddenly, however, the THE STORY OF IRELAND 575 Irisli skirmisliers halted, and the British, to their dismay, found themselves face to face with the main force of the Irish, posted in a position which evidenced consummate ability on the part of O'Neill. Booker ordered an assault in full force on the Irish position, which was, however, dis- astrously repulsed. While the British commander was hesitating as to whether he should renew the battle, or await reinforcements reported to be coming up from Hamil- ton, his deliberations were cut short by a shout from the Irish lines, and a cry of alarm from his own — the Irish were advancing to a charge. They came on with a wild rush and a ringing cheer, bursting through the British ranks. There was a short but desperate struggle, when some one of the Canadian officers, observing an Irish aid- de-camp galloping through a wood close by, thought it was a body of Irish horse, and raised the cry of cavalry! cavalry!" Some of the regular regiments made a vain effort to form a square — a fatal blunder, there being no cavalry at hand ; others, however, broke into confusion, and took to flight, the general, Booker, it is alleged, being the fleetest of the fugitives. The British route soon be- came complete, the day was hopelessly lost, and the victo- rious Irish, with the captured British standards in theii hands, stood on Ridgeway heights as proudly as their com peers at Fontenoy — "The field was fought and won". 576 THE STORY OF IRELAND. LXXXVIII. — THE TINTINISHED CHAPTER OF EIGHTEEN HUN- DRED AND SIXTY-SEVEN. UOW IRELAND, OFT DOOMED TO DEATH," HAS SHOWN THAT SHE IS " FATED NOT TO DIE." UDGED by the forces engaged, Eidgeway was an ^^^^^ inconsiderable engagement. Yet the effect pro- duced by the news in Canadrf, in the States, in England, and of course, most of all in Ireland, could scarcely have been surpassed by the an • nouncement of a second Fontenoy. Irish troops had met the levies of England in pitched battle and defeated them. English colours, trophies of victory, were in the hands of an Irish general. The green flag had come triumphant through the stoim of battle. At home and abroad the Irish saw only these facts, and these appeared to be all-sufficient for national pride. O'Neill, on the morrow of his victory, learned with poig- nant feelings that his supports and supplies had been all cut off by the American gun-boats. In his front the enemy were concentrating in thousands. Behind him rolled the St. Lawrence, cruised by United States war steamers. He was ready to fight the British, but he could not match the combinedpowers of Britain and America. He saw the enterprise was defeated hopelessly, for this time, by the action of the Washington executive, and, feeling that he had truly "done enough for valour", he surren- dered to the United States naval commander. This brief episode at Ridgeway was for the confederated Irish the one gleam to lighten the page of their history for 1866, That page was otherwise darkened and blotted by a recora of humiliating and disgraceful exposures in connec- tion with the Irish Head Centre. In autumn of that year he proceeded to America, and finding his authority repu- diated and his integrity doubted, he resorted to a course which it would be difficult to characterize too strongly. By way of attracting a following to his own standard, and obtaining a flush of money, he publicly announced that in the winter months close at hand, and before the new year dawned, he would (sealing his undertaking with an awful invocation of the Most High) be in Ireland, lead- THE STORY OF IRELAND. 577 ing the long promised insurrection. Had this been a mere " intention" which might be " disappointed," it was still manifestly criminal thus to announce it to the British government, unless, indeed, his resources in hand were so enormous as to render England's preparations a matter of indifference. But it was not as an intention" he announced it, and swore to it. He threatened with the most serious personal consequences any and every man soever who might dare to express a doubt that the event would come off as he swore. The few months remaining of the year jflew by ; his intimate adherents spread the rumour that he had sailed for the scene of action, and in Ireland the news occasioned almost a panic. One day, towards the close of December, however, all New York rang with the exposure that Stephens had never quitted for Ireland, but was hiding from his own enraged follow- ers in Brooklyn. The scenes that ensued were such as may well be omitted from these pages. In that bitter hour thousands of honest; impulsive, and self-sacrificing Irishmen endured the anguish of discovering that they bad been deceived as never had men been before ; that an idol w^orshipped with frenzied devotion was, after all, a thing of clay. There was great rejoicing by the government party in Ireland over this exposure of Stephens's failure. Now, at least, it was hoped, nay, confidently assumed, there would be an end of the revolutionary enterprise ! And now, assuredly, there would have been an end of it, had Irish disaflection been a growth of yesterday ; or haa the unhappy war between p]ngland and the Irish race been merely a passing contention, a momentary flash of excitement. But it was not so ; and these very exposures, and scandals, and recriminations seemed only fated to try in the fiery ordeal the strength, depth, and intensity of that disaffection. In Ireland, where Stephens had been most implicitly believed in, the news of this collapse — which reached early in 1867 — filled the circles with keen humiliation. The more dispassionate wisely rejoiced that he had not at- tempted to keep a promise, the making of which was in it- 37 578 THE STORY OF IRELAND. self a crime ; but the desire to wipe out the reproach sup- posed to be cast on the whole enrolment by his public defection became so overpowering, that a rising was ar- ranged to come off simultaneously all over Ireland on the 5th March, 1867. Of all the insensate attempts at revolution recorded in history, this one assuredly was preeminent. The most extravagant of the ancient Fenian tales supplies nothing more absurd. The inmates of a lunatic asylum could scarcely have produced a more impossible scheme. The one redeeming feature in the whole proceeding was the conduct of the hapless men who engaged in it. Firstly, their courage in responding to such a summons at all, un- armed and unaided as they were. Secondly, their intense religious feeling. On the days immediately preceding the 5th March, the Catholic churches were crowded by the youth of the country, making spiritual preparations for what they believed would be a struggle in which many would fall and few survive. Thirdly, their noble humanity to the prisoners whom they captured, their scrupulous re- gard for private property, and their earnest anxiety to carry on their struggle without infraction in aught of the laws and rules of honourable warfare. In the vicinity of Dublin, and in Tipperary, Cork, and Limerick counties, attacks were made on the police stations, several of which were captured by or surrendered to the insurgents. But a circumstance as singular as any re- corded in history intervened to suppress the movement more effectually than the armies and fleets of England ten times told could do. On the next night following*the rising — the 6th March— there commenced a snowstorm which will long be remembered in Ireland, as it was probably without precedent in our annals. For twelve days and nights without intermission, a tempest of snow and sleet raged over the land, piling snow to the depth of yards on all the mountains, streets, and highways. Th'i plan of the insurrection evidently had for its chief feature desultory warfare in the mountain districts, but this inter- vention of the elements utterly frustrated the project, and fiaved Ireland from the horrors of a protracted struggle. THE 8T0RY OP IRBLAN1>. The last episode of the " rising" was one the immediate and remote effects of which on public feeling were of as- tonishing magnitude, the capture and death oi Peter O'Neill Crowley in Kilclooney Wood, near Mitchelstown. Crowley was a man highly esteemed, widely popular, and greatly loved in the neighbourhood ; a man of respectable position, and of good education, and of character so pure and life so blameless, that the peasantry revered him almost as a saint. Towards the close of March, the government authorities had information that some of the leaders in the late rising were concealed in Kilclooney Wood, and it was surrounded with !inlitary, beating" the copse for the huriian game. Sud- denly they came on Crowley and two comrades, and a bitter fusillade proclaimed the discovery. The fugitives defended themselves bravely, but eventually Crowley was shot down, and brought a corpse into the neighbouring town. Around his neck (inside his shirt) hung a small silver crucifix and a medal of the Immaculate Conception, A bullet had struck the latter, and dinged il into a cup shape. Another had struck the crucifix It turned out that the fugitives, during their concealment in the wood, under Crowley's direction, never omitted compliance with the customary Lenten devotions. Every night they knelt around the embers of their watch-fire, and recited aloud the Rosary, and at the moment of their surprise by the soldiery they were at their morning prayers. All these circumstances — Crowley's high character, his edifying life, hii., tragic fate — profoundly impressed the public mind. While government was felicitating itself on the final" suppression of its protean foe, Irish disaffection, and the English press was commencing anew the old vaunting story about how Ireland's crazy dream" of nationality had been dispelled for ever, a startling change, a silent revolution, was being wrought in the feelings, the senti- ments, the resolutions of the Irish nation. First came com- passion and sympathy ; then anger and indignation, soon changing into resentment and hostility. The people heard their abstention from the impossible project of Fenianism " construed into an approbation and sustainment of the ex- isting rule — an acceptance of provincialism. They heard 580 THE STORY OF IRELAND. the hapless victims of the late rising reviled as ruffians", murderers", " robbers", " marauders", animated by a desire for plunder. They knew the horrible falseness, the baseness and cruelty of all this, coming as it did too from the press of a nation ready enough to hound on revolu- tionary cut-throats abroad, while venting such brutality upon Irishmen like Peter O'Neill Crowley. Ireland could not stand this. No people with a spark of manhood or of honour left, could be silent or neutral here. In the end proposed to themselves by those slain or captured Irish- men — the desire to lift their country up from her fallen state, to staunch her wounds, to right her wrongs — their countrymen all were at one with them ; and the purity, the virtue of their motives, were warmly recognized by men who had been foremost in reprehending the hapless course by which they had immolated themselves. For whatever disorders had arisen from this conspiracy, for whatever there was to reprehend in it, the judgment of the Irish people held English policy and English acts and teachings to accoimt. For, who made those men conspirators ? Who taught them to look to violence ? Who challenged them to a trial of force ? When they who had done these things now turned round on the victims of a noble and generous impulse, and calumniated them, assuredly their fellow- countrymen could not stand by unmoved. And the con- duct of " the men in the dock" brought all Ireland to their side. Never in any age, or in any country, did men bear themselves in such strait more nobly than those Men of '67. They were not men to blush for. Captured at hazard by the government from amongst thousands, yet did they one and all demean themselves with a dignity, a fortitude, a heroism worthy of The hoHest cause that tongue or sword Of mortal ever lost or gained. Some of them were peasants, others were professional men, others were soldiers, many were artizans. Not a man of them all quailed in the dock. Not one of them spoke a word or did an act which could bring a blush to the cheek of a Christian patriot. Some of them — like THE STORY OP IRELAND. 581 Peter O'Neill Crowley — liad lived stainless lives, and met their fate with the spirit of the first Christian martyrs. Their last words were of God and Ireland. Their every thought and utterance seemed an inspiration of virtue, of patriotism, or of religion. As man after man of them was brought to his doom, and met it with bravery, the heart of Ireland swelled and throbbed with a force unknown for long years. • Meanwhile an almost permanent court-martial was sit- ting in Dublin for the trial of soldiers charged, some with sedition, others simply with the utterance of patriotic sen- timents ; and scenes which might be deemed incredible in years to come, had they not public witnesses and public record in the press, were filling to the brim the cup of public horror and indignation, The shrieks of Irish soldiers given over to the knout, resounded almost daily. Blood-clots from the lash sprinkled the barrack yards all over. Many of the Irishmen thus sentenced walked to the triangle, stripped themselves for the torture, bore it without a groan, and, when all was finished — while their comrades were turning away sickened and fainting — cheered anew for poor Ireland^\ or repeated the seditious" aspiration for which they had just suffered I Amidst such scenes, under such circumstances, a mo- mentous transformation took place in Ireland. In the fires of such affliction the whole nation became fused. All minor political distinctions seemed to crumble or fade away, all past contentions seemed forgotten, and only two great parties seemed to exist in the island, those who loved the regime of the blood-clotted lash, the penal chain, and the gibbet, and those who hated it. Out of the ashes of Fenianism", out of the shattered dehris of that insane and hopeless enterprise, arose a gigantic power ; and eighteen hundred and sixty-seven beheld Irish nationality more of a visible and potential reality tho it had been for centuries. Here abruptly pauses "the Story of Ireland"; not ended, because Ireland is not dead yef\ Like that faith to which she has clung through ages of persecution, it 582 THE STORY OF IRELAND. may be said of her that, though " oft doomed to death**, she is fated not to die". Victory must be with her. Already it is with her. Other nations have bowed to the yoke of conquest, and been wiped out from history. Other peoples have given up the faith of their fathers at the bidding of the sword. Other races have sold the glories of their past and the hopes of their future for a mess of pottage ; as if there was nothing nobler in man's destiny than to feed, and sleep, and die. But Ireland, after centuries of suffering and sacrifice such as have tried no other nation in the world, has successfully, proudly, gloriously, defended and retained her life, her faith, her nationality. Well may her children, proclaiming aloud that " there is a God in Israel", look forward to a serene and happy future, beyond the tearful clouds of this troubled present. As- suredly a people who have survived so much, resisted so much, retained so much, are destined to receive the rich reward of such devotion, such constancy, such heroism. THE STORY OF IRELAND. 583 VALEDICTORY. Dear Young Fellow-Countrymen, The Story of our Country, which I have endeavoured to narrate for your instruction and entertainment, termi- nates here — for the present. Time as it rolls onward will always be adding to its chapters. Let us hope it may be adding to its glories. The lesson which the Story of Ireland" teaches is, Hope, Faith, Confidence in God. Tracing the struggles of the Irish people, one finds himself overpowered by the conviction that an all-wise Providence has sustained and preserved them as a nation for a great piirpose, for a glorious destiny. My task is done; and now I bid farewell to my young friends who have followed my story-telling so far. I trust I have not failed in the purpose, and shall not be disap- pointed in the hopes, which impelled me to this labour of love, &(xd Saue Iralandl CONTENTS Page Author's Preface ... ... ... ... 5 Introductory— How we learn the facts of early history ... 9 1. How the Milesians sought and found " the Promised Isle"— and con- quered it ... ... ... ... 11 2. Hew Ireland fared under the Milesian dynasty ... ... 19 3. How the Uufree Clans tried a revolution ; and what came of it. How the Romans thought it vain to attempt a conquest of Ireland ... 23 Bardic Tales of Ancient Erinn. "The Sorrowful Fate of the Children of Usna" ... ... ... ... 26 5. The death of King Conor Mac Nessa ... ... ... ^5 6. The " Golden Age" of Pre-Christian Erinn ... ... 39 7. How Ireland received the Christian Faith ... ... 46 8. A retrospective glance at pagan Ireland ... ... 52 9. Christian Ireland. The Story of Columba, the "Dove of the Cell" ... 56 10. The Danes in Ireland ... ... ... 76 11. How " Brian of the Tribute" became a High King of Erinn ... 79 12. How a dark thunder- cloud gathered over Ireland ... ... 86 13. The glorious day of CI ontarf ... ... ... 90 14. '* After the Battle". The scene upon Ossory's plain". The last days of national fieedom ... ... ... 101 15. How England became a compact kingdom, while Ireland was breaking into fragments ... ... ... ... 105 16. How Henry the Second feigned wondrous anxiety to heal the disorders of Ireland ... ... ... ... 108 17. Tha treason of Diarmid M'Murrogh ... ... ... 110 18. How the Norman adventurers got a foothold on Irish soil ... 114 19. How Henry recalled the adventurers. How he came over himself to punish them and befriend the Irish ... ... 123 20. How Henry made a treaty with the Irish king— and did not keep it 129 21. Death-bed scenes ... ... ... ... 134 22. How the Anglo-Norman colony fared ... 137 23. "The bier that conquered". The story of Godfrey or Tyrconnell ... 141 24. How the Irish nation awoke from its trance, and Sang off its chains. The career of King Edward Bruce ... ... ... 151 25. How this bright day of independence was turned to gloom. How the seasons fought against Ireland, and famine fought for England ... 157 56. How the Anglo-Irish lords learned to prefer Irish manners, laws, and language, and were becoming " more Irish than the Irish themselves". How the king in London took measures to arrest that dreaded evil 165 27. How the vainglorious Richard of England and his overwhelming army failed to " dazzle" or conquer the Prince of Leinster. Career of the heroic Art M'Murrogh ... ... ... 170 28. How the vainglorious English king tried another campaign against the invincible Irish prince, and was utterly defeated as before ... 178 29. How the civil wars in England left the Anglo-Irish colony to ruin. How the Irish did not grasp the opportunity of easy liberation ... 182 30. How a new element of antagonism came into the struggle. How the English king and nation adopted a new religion, and how the Irish held fast by the old ... ... ... ... 185 31. Those Geraldines ! those Geraldines I" ... ... 190 32. The rebellion of Silken Thomas ... ... ... 197 33. How the " Reformation" was accomplished in England, and how it waa resisted in Ireland ... ... ... .. 208 586 CONTENTS. Page 34. How the Irish chiefs gave up all hope and yielded to Henry ; and how the Irish clans served the chiefs for such treason ... ... 213 35. Henry's successors : Edward, Mary, and Elizabeth. The career of " John the Proud" ... ... ... ... 217 36. How the Geraldines once more leagued against England under the banner of the cross. How " the royal Pope" was the earliest and the most active ally of the Irish cause .. ... ... 220 37. How Commander Cosby held a "feast" at Mullaghmast; and how " Ruari Oge" recompensed that "hospitality". A viceroy's visit to Glenmalure, and his reception there ... ... 230 38. " Hugh of Dangannon**. How Queen Elizabeth brought up the young Irish chief at court, with certain crafty designs of her own ... 235 89. How Lord Deputy Perrot planned a right cunning expedition, and stole away the youthful Prmce of Tyrconnell. How, in the dungeons of Dublin Castle the boy chief learned his duty towards England ; and how he at length escaped, and commenced discharging that duty 239 40. How Hugh of Dungannon was meantime drawing off from England and drawing near to Ireland ... ... ... 247 4L How Red Hugh went circuit against the English in the North. How the crisis came upon O'Neill ... ... ... 254 42. O'Neill in arms for Ireland. Clontibret and Beal-an-atha-buie ... 259 43. How Hugh formed a great national confederacy and built up a nation once more on Irish soil ... ... ... 272 44. How the reconstructed Irish nation was overwhelmed. How the two Hughs fought "back to back" against their overpowering foes. How the " Spanish aid" ruined the Irish cause. The disastrous battle of Kinsale ... ... ... ... 278 45. "The last Lord of Beara". How Donal of Dunboy was assigned a perilous prominence, and nobly undertook its duties. How Don Juan's imbecility or treason ruined tlie Irish cause ... 285 46. How the queen's forces set about " tranquillizing'* Munster. How Carew gent Earl Thomond on a mission into Carbery, Bear, and Bantry ... ... ... ... 291 47. How the lord president gathered an army of four thousand men to crush doomed Dunboy, the last hope of the national cause in Munster 294 48. The last days of Dunboy : a tale of heroism ... ... 297 49. How the fall of Dunboy caused King Philip to change all his plans, and recall the expedition for Ireland ; and how the reverse broke the brave heart of Red Hugh. How the "Lion of the North" stood at bay, and made his foes tremble to the last ... ... 307 59. The retreat to Leitrim ; " the most romantic and gallant achieyement of the age" ... ... ... ... 314 51. How the government and Hugh made a treaty of peace. How England came under the Scottish monarchy; and how Ireland hopefully hailed the Gaelic sovereign ... ... ... 324 62. "The Flight of the Earls". How the princes of Ireland went into exile, menaced by destruction at home ... ... 329 63. A memorable epoch. How Milesian Ireland finally disappeared from history ; and how a new Ireland— Ireland in exile — appeared for the first time. How " plantations" of foreigners were designed for the "colonization" of Ireland, and the extirpation of the native race 342 54. How the lords justices got up the needful bloody fury in England by a " dreadful massacre" story How the Confederation of ^Kilkenny came about ... ... ... ... 367 65. Something about the conflicting elements of the civil war in 16*^-9. How the Confederate Catholics made good their position, and estab- lished a national government in Ireland ... ... 364 66. How King Charles opened negociations with the Confederate Council. How the Anglo-Irish party would have " peace at any price", and the "native Irish" party stood out for peace with honour. How Pope Innocent the Tenth sent an envoy — "not empty-handed"— to aid the Irish cause ... ... ... ... 368 67. How the nuncio freed and armed the hand of Owen Roe, and bade CONTENTS. 587 Page him strike at least one worthy blow for God and Ireland. How glo- riously Owen strnck that blow at Beinburb ... ... 374 68. How the king disavowed the treaty and the Irish repudiated it. How the council by a worse blunder clasped hands with a sacrilegious murderer, and incurred excommunication. How at length the royal- ists and the Confederates concluded an honourable peace ... 380 69. How Cromwell led the Puritan rebels into Ireland. How Ireland by a lesson too terrible to be forgotten was taught the danger of too much loyalty to an English sovereign ... ... 384 60. The agony of a nation ... .. ... 387 61. How King Charles the Second came back on a compromise. How a new massacre story was set to work. The martyrdom of Primate Plunkett .. .. ... ... 398 62. How King James the Second, by arbitrarily asserting liberty of con- science, utterly violated the will of the English nation. How the English agreed, confederated, combined, and conapired to depose the king, and beat up for "foreign emissaries" to come and begin the rebellion for them .. ... ... ... 404 63. How William and James met face to face at the Boyne. A plain sketch of the battlefield and the tactics of the day ... 40? 64. Before the battle" ... ... ... ... 414 65 The battle of the Boyne ... ... ... 418 66 How James abandoned the struggle; but the Irish would not give up 425 67. How William sat down before Limerick, and began the siege. Sars- field's midnight ride— the fate of William's siege train ... 429 68. How William procured a new siege train and breached the wall. How the women of Limerick won their fame in Irish history. How the breach was stormed and the mine sprung. How William fled from " unconquered Limerick" ... ... ... 438 69 How the French sailed off, and the deserted Irish army starved in rags, but would not give up the right. Arrival of " St. Ruth, the vain and brave" ... ... ... ... 442 70. How Ginckle besieged Athlone. How the Irish " kept the bridge", and how the brave Custume and his glorious companions '* died for Ire- land". How Athlone, thus saved, was lost in an hour ... 444 71. ** The Culloden of Ireland". How Aughrim was fought and lost. A story of the battle-field ; " the dog of Aughrim", or fidelity in death 45^ 72. How glorious Limerick once more braved the ordeal. How at length a treaty and capitulation was agreed upon. How Sarsfield and the Irish army sailed into exile ... .. ... 465 73. How the treaty of Limerick was broken and trampled under foot by the " Protestant Interest" yelling for more plunder and more persecution 472 74. "The penal times". How "Protestant Ascendancy" by a bloody penal code endeavoured to brutify the mind, destroy the intellect, and deform the physical and moral features of the subject Catholics ... 477 75. The Irish army in exile. How Sarsfield fell on Landen plain. How the regiments of Burke and O Mahony saved Cremona, fighting in " muskets and shirts". The glorious victory of Fontenoy. How the Irish exiles, faithful tc the end, shared the last gallant effort of Prince Charles Edward .. ... ... 480 76. How Ireland began to awaken from the sleep of slavery. The dawn of Legislative Independence ... ... ... 4tl 77. How the Irish Volunteers achieved the legislative independence of Ireland ; or, how the moral force of a citizen army eff'ected a peace- ful, legal, and constitutional revolution ' .. .. 496 78. What national independence accomplished for Ireland. How England once more broke faith with Ireland, and repaid generous trust with ba«e betrayal ... ... ... ... 603 79. How the English minister saw his advantage in provoking Ireland into an armed struggle ; and how heartlessly he laboured to that end 507 80. How the British minister forced on the rising. The fate of the brave Lord Edward— how the brothers Sheares died hand in hand— the rising of Ninety-eight ... ... ... 611 588 CONTENTS. Pag© 81. How the government conspiracy now achieved its purpose. How the Parliament of Ireland was extinguished. .. ... 522 82. Ireland after the Union. The story of Robert Emmet ... 534 83. How the Irish Catholics, under the leadership of O'Connell, won Catholic Emancipation ... ... ... 542 84. How the Irish people next sought to achieve the restoration of their legislative independence. How England answered them with a chal- lenge to the sword ... ... ... .. 548 85. How the horrors of the famine had their effect on Irish politics. How the French Revolution set Europe in a flame. How Ireland made a vain attempt at insurrection ... ... ... 556 86. How the Irish Exodus came about, and the English press gloated over the anticipated extirpation of the Irish race ... .. 564 87. How some Irishmen took to "the politics of despair". How England's revolutionary teachings *'came home to roost". How General John O'Neill gave Colonel Booker a touch of Fontenoy at Ridgeway ... 568 88. The unfinished chapter of eighteen hundred and sixty seven. How Ireland, "oft doomed to death", has shown that she is "fated not to die". .. ... ... ... 576 ^'fcledictory ... ... ... 68J ILLUSTKATI0N8. Page The Milesians sighting the " Promised Isle" 11 Queen Scota unfurls the " Sacred Banner'* 15 Recital of the Bardic Tales in Ancient Erinn 26 The death of King Dahi 49 St. Columba led blindfolded into the Convention ... 56 The Murder of King Mahon ... 76 Brian on the morning of Clontarf 96 The Norman landing 114 The Meeting of Eva and Strongbovr 121 The Death-bed of King Henry the Second 134 Godfrey of Tyrconnell borne into battle 145 Edward Bruce crowned king of Ireland 161 Mac Murrough warned of the plot by his Bard 170 Silken Thomas flings up the Sword of State 201 The " Reformers" at their work 208 Stealing away the Tyrconnell Princes ... 239 Red Hugh O'Donnell's welcome home ... 249 The Conflict before Armagh ... ... 257 Dunboy besieged ... ... ,^ 297 The last struggle of Mac Grvoghegan 305 "The Flight, of the Earls" ... 329 The Princes received by the Pope 337 Mac Mahon before the Lords Justices .. 353 Authentic portrait of Owen Roe O'Neill 367 Depositing the captured English Standards in Limerick Cathedral 374 Seizing the Irish children for Slave-gangs 393 Battle of the Boyne 414 Sarsfield captures the Siege Train 433 How they kept the bridge at Athlone ... 449 The Dog of Aughrim 454 Mass on the Mountain in the Penal times 481 The capture of Lord Edward Fitzgerald 513 A scene from the Irish exodus 561 DATE DUE JUN 1 f) ?nn7 UNIVERSITY PRODUCTS, INC. #859-5503 132331 BOSTON COLLEGE 3 9031 01 213105 8 ix«iK>rcm::uijiTE BOSTON COLLEGE LIBRARY UNIVERSITY HEIGHTS CHESTNUT HILL, MASS. 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