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 THE BOG OF STARS 
 
THE NEW IRISH LIBRARY. 
 
 Edited by 
 
 Sir CHARLES GAYAN DUFFY, K.C.M.G. 
 
 Assistant Editors : 
 DOUGLAS HYDE, LL.D., T. W. ROLLESTON, 
 
 National Literary Society, 
 
 4 College Green, 
 
 Dublin. 
 
 Irish Literary Society, 
 
 Bloomsbury Mansion, Hart St., 
 
 London. 
 
THE BOG OF STARS 
 
 AND 
 
 OTHER STORIES AND SKETCHES 
 
 OF ELIZABETHAN IRELAND 
 
 BY 
 
 STANDISH O'GRADY 
 
 Author of "Finn and his Companions" drv. 
 
 Eontion 
 T. FISHER UN WIN 
 
 PATERNOSTER SQUARE 
 
 Dublin 
 
 SEALY, BRYERS & WALKER 
 
 MIDDLE ABBEY STREET 
 
 P. J. KENEDY 
 BARCLAY STREET 
 
 mdcccxcih£ost< ^ c 
 

 PREFACE. 
 
 HE following stories are 
 not so much founded 
 on fact as in fact true. 
 The events are in each 
 case related either as they actually occurred or 
 with a very slight dramatization and infusion of 
 local and contemporaneous colour. My object 
 
6 PREFACE. 
 
 generally has been to bring the modern Irish 
 reader into closer and more sympathetic relation 
 with a most remarkable century of Irish history ; 
 a century which, more than any other, seems 
 to have determined the destiny of Ireland. 
 
 S. O'G. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 i. mona-reulta; or, the bog of stars, ... 9 
 
 II. PHILIP o'sullivan : historian, soldier 
 
 AND POET, ... ... ... 22 
 
 in. kiegangair, ... ... ... 27 
 
 IV. THE VENGEANCE OF THE O'HAGANS, ... 46 
 
 V. SIR RICHARD BINGHAM, ... ... 65 
 
 VI. THE OUTLAWED CHIEFTAIN, ... ... 71 
 
 VII. BRIAN OF-THE-RAMPARTS O'ROURKE, ... 98 
 
 VIII. DON JUAN DE AGUILA — HERO OF KINSALE, 106 
 
 IX. THE BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS, 113 
 
MONA-REULTA; OR, THE BOG OF 
 STARS. 
 
 is not a beautiful word 
 though melodious Milton 
 found a place for it in his 
 Paradise Lost. It sounds 
 better in Gaelic, for it is pro- 
 nounced bogue, and means 
 "soft.'* The thing signified 
 has a doubtful reputation. Bogs are glorious in the 
 eyes of sportsmen, a valuable property when they pro- 
 duce turf, and when they do not, blots on the face of 
 Nature, upon which the improver wages constant war by 
 drains, plantations, and other improvers' methods. On 
 the whole bogs are not popular, and yet sometimes at 
 night, when stars fill the sky, bogs reflect their glory. 
 Then the fowler, home-returning, tired and meditative, 
 
IO THE BOG OF STARS. 
 
 with his tired dogs at his heels, pauses for a moment 
 beside some pool, and looks down and not up. It 
 is a feature of bogs which has not escaped the notice 
 of our poet, Mr. W. B. Yeats — 
 
 " Where the wandering water gushes 
 In the hills above Glencar, 
 In pools amongst the rushes 
 That scarce could bathe a star." 
 
 The old name-makers of Ireland noticed it too. 
 There is an Irish bog called Mona-Reulta, or the Bog 
 of Stars. Don't ask me to place it upon the map ; 
 probably it has long since yielded to the assiduous 
 improver, and now grows corn for man and green grass 
 for cattle, and is not starry any more. All I know is that 
 it flourished once and was starry, and figures in a tale 
 known lang syne, but improved out of memory, as 
 probably Mona-Reulta itself has been. 
 
 The golden time of great Eliza was drawing towards 
 its close, when in the dusk of a January evening an 
 army issued from the massive gateway of a castle 
 court-yard, and took the road, headed by a file of 
 fifers and a drum. The fifers played a brisk old Irish 
 air, and the drummer drummed as if he had a great 
 deal of do-nothing weariness to work out of his arms 
 and wrists. Then in well-scoured pots and shining 
 jacks came many files of gunmen. Smoke exhaled 
 from this part of the army — not tobacco smoke, though 
 an odd pipe may have been lighting there too — but 
 the smoke of burning tow-match, which for each 
 
THE BOG OF STARS. II 
 
 soldier was coiled round the stock of his piece. Pike- 
 men followed, also in head-pieces and breast-pieces, 
 with their long, slender weapons on their shoulders, 
 .aslope, making a beautiful sight. Rough garrans, with 
 rougher drivers, succeeded them, the garrans laden 
 with panniers. On the backs of some of the garrans 
 were fastened ladders, newly made, for they were 
 very white. Then came a promiscuous crowd of 
 bare-headed, long-haired youths, in tight trews and 
 saffron-coloured tunics, who skipped to the music, 
 singing their own songs too as an accompaniment. 
 Each had a sword on his thigh, and a bundle of light 
 spears in his hands ; mantles of many bright hues 
 surrounded their shoulders, rolled after the manner of 
 a Highlander's plaid. They were the Queen's kerne ; 
 a young English gentleman commanded them, not 
 without difficulty. More gunmen and pikemen fol- 
 lowed, bringing up the rear. It was a small army — only 
 a few hundred men — yet a fairly large one for the 
 times, and a well-equipped one too, fit to do good 
 service to-night if all go well. Some ten or a dozen 
 horsemen accompanied this army, all in complete 
 armour, some in gilded armour. They went in twos 
 and threes together, or rode from front to rear, keep- 
 ing a sharp eye on the moving host. This army 
 marched keeping its bade to the sea and its face 
 to the mountains. Two men rode together near the 
 band, which was now silent ; the fifers were shaking 
 the wet out of their flutes. 
 
12 THE BOG OF STARS. 
 
 " What dost thou surmise, Tom ? " said one in 
 gilded armour to the other, whose armour was only 
 iron and not bright. " Shall we catch the bloody 
 Raven in his nest this night ? " The speaker was 
 Lord Deputy of Ireland. 
 
 " My lord, I am sure of it," answered the duller 
 armadillo. " My scouts report all quiet in the glen. 
 The Raven has not fifty men with him, and suspects 
 nothing. Pick up thy drumsticks there. 'Swounds, 
 man, what sort of drummer art thou to drum for the 
 Queen's soldiers ? Your Honour, the Raven is thine 
 this night, alive or dead." Now the band struck up 
 again, the drummer drummed, and the remainder of 
 this conversation was lost to all but the speakers. By 
 the way, why did that drummer drop his drumsticks ? 
 Had the knight addressed as Tom (his full style was 
 Captain Thomas Lee) known th at, there would have 
 been a different issue of this well-planned " draught," 
 and my story would never have been written, or the 
 Bog of Stars celebrated. 
 
 The drummer youth drummed almost as well as 
 before that overheard conversation about the Raven 
 had shaken the drumsticks from his hand. The sub- 
 conscious musical soul in him enabled him to do that ; 
 but his thoughts were not in the music. Something 
 then said caused to pass before him an irregular 
 dioramic succession of mental scenes and pictures. For 
 him, as he whirred with his little drumsticks, or sharply 
 rat-at-at-ated, memory and imagination, on blank nothing 
 
THE BOG OF STARS. 1 3 
 
 for canvas, and with the rapidity of lightning, flung 
 pictures by the hundred. Here is one for a sample : 
 it passed before him like a flash, but passed many times. 
 A long table, a very long table, spread for supper, redo- 
 lent of supper, steaming with supper, and he very will- 
 ing to sup. Vessels of silver, of gold too — for it was some 
 gala night — shone in the light of many candles. Rows of 
 happy faces were there, and one face eminent above all. 
 There were candles in candlesticks of branching silver, 
 or plain brass, or even fixed in jars and bottles. All the 
 splendour was a good way off from him. He was at the 
 wrong end of the long table, but he was there. At his 
 end was no snow-white linen, and the cups and platters 
 were only of ash or wild apple ; but of good food 
 there was plenty, and of ale too, for such as were not 
 children. It was the supper table of a great lord. The 
 boy was at one end, and the great lord at the other ; 
 he was at one end and the Raven at the other. 
 He was not kin to this great lord, whom he called 
 Clan-Ranal, and to whom he was too young to do 
 service. He knew no mother, and hardly remembered 
 his father; he had been slain, they told him, " when 
 Clan-Ranal brake the battle on the Lord Deputy and 
 all the Queen's Host." 
 
 Again, in imagination, the drummer-boy sat in Clan- 
 Ranal's glowing hall while the storm raged without, 
 and shook the clay-and-timber sides of that rude 
 palace. There sat the swarthy chief, beaming good- 
 will and hospitality upon all. His smiles, and the flash 
 
14 THE BOG OF STARS. 
 
 of his kind eyes illuminated the hall from end to end, 
 and made the food sweeter and the ale stronger. He 
 was only a robber chief, but oh, so great ! so glorious! 
 in the child's eyes. His " queen " was at his right 
 hand, and around him his mighty men of valour, famous 
 names, sung by many bards, names that struck terror 
 afar through the lowlands. To the boy they were not 
 quite earthly ; he thought of them with the superna- 
 tural heroes of old time. He did not know that his 
 "king" was a robber, or, if he did, thought that 
 robbery was but another name for celerity, boldness* 
 and every form of warlike excellence, as in such primi- 
 tive Homeric days it mostly is. To others, the Raven 
 and his mighty men were sons of death and perdition ; 
 but their rapine sustained him, and in their dubious 
 glory he rejoiced. A fair child's face, too, mingled 
 always in these scenes and pictures, which chased 
 each other across the mind ol the drummer. He saw 
 her, in short green kirtle and coat of cloth-of-gold, step 
 down from the king's side at an assembly, bearing to 
 him, the small but distinguished hurler of toy spears, 
 the prize of excellence (it was only a clasp knife ; he 
 had it still), and saw her sweet smile as she said, " Thou 
 will do some great deed one day, O Raymond, Fitz 
 Raymond, Fitz Pierce." All the gay, bright happy 
 life of his childhood, so happy because it held so much 
 love, came and went in flashes before his gazing eyes : 
 and now he drummed on the army which was to 
 quench in blood, in horrors unspeakable and un- 
 
THE BOG OF STARS. IS 
 
 thinkable, the light of that happy home where he had 
 once been so happy himself. Tears ran down the 
 drummer's face, unseen, for the night had now come. 
 Then a thought, a purpose, flashed swiftly, like a 
 meteor, across his mind, and came again less tran- 
 siently, and then came to stay, fixed, clear, and deter- 
 minate ; a purpose like a star. He drummed better 
 after that, and spoke as stoutly as his fellows about 
 the glorious achievement which was to be performed 
 that night, and about his share of the plunder. Yet 
 his thoughts were not plunderous, but heroic. He, 
 Raymond, son of Raymond, son of Pierce, son of, 
 &c, &c, would do a great deed that night. Some 
 pride of birth may have mingled with the lad's pur- 
 pose, for he was of a sept broken and scattered 
 indeed, but once famous — the Fitz-Eustaces. He 
 knew his genealogical line by heart. If there was a 
 drummer at one end of it, there was an Earl at the 
 other. 
 
 The two horsemen conversed once more. "Where 
 are we now, Tom ? " exclaimed the leader of the 
 draught. 
 
 u Your Honour, about a third part of the way. 
 We are passing the bog called Mona-Reulta." 
 
 11 These savage Irish names of yours," said the 
 other, "are very unmemorable," Though Lord 
 Deputy of Ireland, he did not know one word of 
 Gaelic, at a time when nearly every nobleman and 
 gentleman in the island spoke, or could speak that 
 
1 6 THE BOG OF STARS. 
 
 tongue. " Tell me the meaning of it in English ; so 
 I shall the better remember." 
 
 u Your Honour, it means the bog of stars, or starry 
 bog. The bog is full of little pools and holes, and 
 they show the stars most noticeably on a clear night." 
 
 " It is a singular name," remarked the other. He 
 rode in silence for a while after that, and then added, 
 " Master Edmund Spenser, my very ingeniose friend, 
 would be pleased to hear that name. Dost thou know, 
 Tom, that this same ravaging monster and bird of prey 
 whom we seek to-night is in the Faery Queen ? The 
 Ninth Canto of the Sixth Book is altogether conver- 
 sant with him. Malengin is his name there. One Talus 
 beat him full sore with his iron flail. Ay, Tom, the 
 villain is in the Faery Queen, therefore famous for ever, 
 rascal as he is. And I — alas ! " 
 
 " I know not that, your honour. I know he was in 
 Idrone, yesterday was se'nnight, and drove the prey of 
 thirteen towns, and murthered many loyal subjects. It 
 is all a lie about Talus. There was no such captain, 
 seneschal, or deputy in Ireland at any time." 
 
 The Deputy laughed cheerily at this sally, or what 
 ever it may have been. 
 
 The army was now winding between high moun 
 tains, along a narrow way by the side of a rushing 
 river, which roared loudly, swollen by the winter rains. 
 Hour after hour the army pursued its march through 
 wild mountain scenery now all hidden in the folds of 
 night. At length, after having climbed one consider- 
 
THE BOG OF STARS. 1 7 
 
 able eminence, the guide spoke some words to the 
 leader, and pointed down the valley. The army halted. 
 All the officers came together, and conversed apart in 
 low voices. In the valley beneath lay the strong nest 
 of that " proud bird of the mountains " for whose 
 extermination they had come so far. Dawn was 
 approaching. Already the dense weight of the dark- 
 ness was much relaxed. They could see dimly the 
 walls and towers of the chieftain's stronghold, showing 
 white in the surrounding dusk, or half-concealed by 
 trees. It was not a castle, only a small town, with 
 walls and gates. 
 
 Then cautiously the Lord Deputy's army began to 
 descend from the heights. Silence was enjoined on all, 
 not to be broken on pain of death. Each subaltern was 
 responsible for the behaviour of his own file \ he had 
 strict orders to keep his men together, and prevent 
 straying on any pretext. As they drew nearer, the 
 scaling ladders were unpacked. The little city as yet 
 gave no sign of alarm ; not a cock crowed or dog 
 barked. No watch had been set, or, if there had been, 
 he slept. All within, man and beast, seemed plunged 
 in profound slumber. Some strong detachments now 
 separated from the main body, and moved through the 
 trees to the right and the left. Their object was to 
 surround the city, and cut off all retreat. There was 
 another gate at the rear, opening upon a wooden 
 bridge, which spanned a considerable stream. There 
 were only two gates to the city, that in front, at which 
 
 B 
 
1 8 THE BOG OF STARS. 
 
 the main body was assembled, and the rear gate, 
 whither the detachments were now tending. They 
 never got there. At one moment there was silence, 
 broken only by the murmuring of the stream or the 
 occasional crackling of some trodden twig ; at the next, 
 the silence rang with the sharp, clear roll of a kett.e- 
 drum, the detonations so rapid that they seemed one 
 • continuous noise — 
 
 " Oh, listen, for the vale profound 
 Is overflowing with the sound." 
 
 As suddenly as that drum had sounded, so abruptly 
 it ceased ; some one struck the drummer boy to the 
 earth senseless, perhaps lifeless. But he had done his 
 work. The roll of a kettle-drum can no more be re- 
 called than the spoken word. The city, so sound 
 asleep one minute past, was now awake and alive in 
 every fibre. Bugles sounded there; arms and armour 
 rang, and fierce voices in a strange tongue shouted 
 passionate commands. Dogs bayed, horses neighed, 
 women wailed, and children wept ; and all the time 
 the noise of trampling feet sounded like low thunder, 
 a bass accompaniment to all that treble. The fume 
 and glare of fast-multiplying torches rose above the 
 white walls, which were now alive with the morions of 
 armed men, and presently ablaze with firearms. The 
 assailants were themselves surprised and taken un- 
 awares. Their various detachments were separated. 
 The original plan of assault had miscarried, and new 
 arrangements were necessary. The leader bade his 
 
THE BOG OF STARS. 1 9 
 
 trumpet sound the recall, and withdrew his men out of 
 range, with the loss of a few wounded. When half- 
 an-hour later a general attack was made on the walls, 
 there was no one to receive it. They stormed an 
 evacuated town. The chieftain, all his men, women, 
 and children, all his animals, and the most valuable of 
 his movable property, were seen dimly at the other 
 side of the river, moving up the dark valley, with the 
 men of war in the rear. Pursuit was dangerous, and 
 was not attempted. The half-victorious army took 
 half-joyful possession of the deserted city. 
 
 There was a court-martial a little before noon in the 
 chieftain's feasting chamber, which was filled with 
 armed men. A culprit was led before the Lord Deputy. 
 His face was pale, and neck red with blood, and the 
 hair on one side of his head wet and sticky. He was 
 a well-formed, reddish-haired youth, blue-eyed, of 
 features rather homely than handsome. It was the 
 drummer. The court-martial did not last long. The 
 evidence of the witnesses went straight home, and was 
 not met or parried. 
 
 11 Sirrah," cried the Lord Deputy, " why didst thou 
 do it ? Why, being man to the Queen, didst thou play 
 the traitor? Gentlemen, what doth the lad say ?" 
 
 11 He says, an it please your Honour, that he could 
 do nothing else ; that he saw this thing shine before 
 him like a star." 
 
 " Then is a traitor turned poet. Provost-marshal, 
 take a file of snaphance-men, and shoot him off-hand. 
 
20 THE BOG OF STARS. 
 
 Nay, stay, a soldier's death is too good for him. 
 Captain Lee, take him with thee in thy return, and 
 drown him in that bog thou mindest of. Let him add 
 that, his star, to the rest." 
 
 Yet it was observed that the Lord Deputy remained 
 silent for a while, and seemed to meditate; after 
 which he sighed and asked if there were another 
 prisoner. 
 
 That evening a company of soldiers stood on a piece 
 of firm ground above a dark pool in Mona-Reulta. 
 They had amongst them a lad pinioned hand and foot, 
 with a stone fastened to his ankles. He was perfectly 
 still and composed \ there was even an expression of 
 quiet pride in his illuminated countenance. He was to 
 die a dog's death, but he had been true to his star. 
 Two gigantic pike-men who had laid aside their de- 
 fensive armour, but retained their helmets, raised him 
 in their strong arms, while a third soldier simultaneously 
 lifted the heavy stone. One, two, three, a splash, a 
 rushing together in foam of the displaced water, then 
 comparative stillness, while bubbles continually rose 
 to the surface, and burst. Presently all was still as 
 before, black and still. One or two of the young 
 soldiers showed white scared faces; but the mature 
 men, bearded English, and moustached Irish, sent a 
 hearty curse after the traitor, and strode away. Soon 
 the company stood ranked on the yellow road. Some- 
 one gave out a sharp word of command, the fifes struck 
 up a lively measure, and all went cheerily off at a quick 
 
THE BOG OF STARS. 21 
 
 march. There was one horseman, Captain Thomas 
 Lee, a brave gentleman, honourably known in all the 
 wars of the age. Above them, unrolled from the staff 
 fluttered the bright folds of their guidon. The wester- 
 ing sun scintillated on their polished armour, and the 
 bright points of their pikes. They were not traitors, 
 but true men ; no one could say that they had eaten 
 the Queen's rations, and handled her money only to 
 betray her cause. Then the sound of the fifes died 
 away in the distance, and the silence of the uninhabited 
 wilderness resumed its ancient reign. Faint breaths of 
 air played tenderly in the rushes and dry grass. 
 By-and-by a pert blackhead clambered about aimlessly 
 in a little dry and stunted willow tree that grew by the 
 drummer's pool hardly a foot high. 
 
 Then the sun set, and still night increased, and where 
 the drummer boy had gone down, a bright star shone; 
 it was the evening star, the star of love, which is also 
 the morning star, the star of hope and bravery. 
 
PHILIP O'SULLIVAN. 
 
 gft HISTORIAN, SOLDIER. AND POET. 
 
 N the summer of 1602, a Spanish vessel of the 
 kind known as a "patache," weighed anchor 
 in the Kenmare River and sailed for Spain. 
 jjsSJ She had been moored for a few days in 
 & *• front of the fine castle of Ardea, On the 
 deck, weeping, stood a little boy of nine 
 or ten years of age. His name was Philip ; he was 
 first cousin, once removed, of the Lord O'Sullivan, 
 chief of the O'Sullivan nation and Prince of Beare 
 and Eantry — the last independent dynast of those 
 regions. The chieftain bad rebelled against Queen 
 Elizabeth, and, by the way of clearing the decks 
 for action, had determined to send the children of the 
 sept into Spain for safety; for in those days, Irish 
 warfare did not spare children. The war, long re- 
 pelled by the prowess of the chieftain, at last rolled 
 in upon O'Sullivan's territory. At the moment O'Sul- 
 livan was barring the passes of Glengariffe against 
 the advance of the Royalists, and there was desperate 
 and bloody fighting every day in the " rough-glen." 
 The father of the little exile was lord of an island 
 
PHILIP O SULLIVAN. 23 
 
 called the Dorses, lying beyond the entrance of 
 Bantry Bay towards the west, and of some adjoining 
 territory on the mainland. In this island Philip's 
 father had built himself a strong castle, and built too a 
 little church; the ruins of both are still visible. There 
 were also the remains of an ancient monastery, long 
 since sacked and destroyed " by pirates." Here 
 Philip was born. He was the youngest of seventeen 
 children, all born of the same parents. The father of 
 this extensive family was Dermot, first cousin of the 
 insurgent chieftain, a man who has made his mark in 
 history, being one of the chief characters in that fine 
 historical episode of which some of my readers may 
 have heard, "The Retreat of the O'Sullivans." Philip, 
 writing of his island home, calls it Bea, but it is 
 marked on the map as Dorses, or Dursey Island. 
 Pilgrimages will yet be made to that island as the 
 birthplace of Philip the Historian. 
 
 The little boy was kindly taken in hand by certain 
 Spanish grandees, was supplied with tutors and in- 
 structors, and. in short, educated with great care. He 
 was an apt and docile pupil, and celebrates by name 
 all the persons who were concerned in his education, 
 particularly a fellow-countryman of his own named 
 Synnott, to whom he afterwards addressed many of 
 his poems. 
 
 Philip was not long in his new home before he was 
 joined by great numbers of Irish refugees driven out 
 of Ireland by the success of the Queen's arms. He 
 
24 PHILIP O'SULLIVAN. 
 
 was joined by his father and mother, by the survivors 
 of his seventeen brothers and sisters, by the chieftain 
 of the O'Sullivans, and a vast number of broken and 
 ruined gentlemen, hailing from all parts of Ireland, 
 members of nearly all the principal families in the 
 island, scarred, war-worn old veterans, many of whom 
 had been through the whole of " The Nine Years' 
 War," and were full of war-anecdotes and reminis- 
 cences, and of startling adventures by field and flood. 
 Strolling and conversing through the squares of Madrid 
 with his younger friends, or silent, but with open eyes 
 and ears, in the company of his elders as they sat 
 around the fireside, or after dinner over their wine, 
 talking ceaselessly of the great Irish wars, Philip 
 absorbed all that conversation, and stored it away in a 
 singularly exact and retentive memory. As he grew 
 older, and began to be aware that he had a faculty for 
 writing, Philip determined to be the vates of these 
 scarred veterans, to do for them what they could not do 
 for themselves, to be their historian and poet. Hence 
 the great value of his work, Historia Hibernice. It 
 was not written by a mere student, painfully poring 
 over tedious State papers and mouldy archives, but by 
 one who had conversed for many years with all the 
 principal actors of the Irish war theatre, and who was, 
 consequently, almost an eye-witness of the scenes 
 which he describes, and knew personally many of the 
 characters. So his history abounds in personal traits, 
 hair-breadth escapes, perilous adventures, heroic 
 
PHILIP O'SULLIVAN. 25 
 
 achievements, vivid battle-scenes, clever repartees, and 
 is, in fact, one of the liveliest and most entertaining 
 histories ever written. The question remains, is it 
 true ? To this I answer that it is certainly most vera- 
 cious. Philip tells his stories exactly as he received 
 them, and that his informants related the actual 
 incidents, on the whole, with exactitude, we can see, 
 by a comparison of Philip's stories with the same as 
 told in the bald and hostile accounts scattered through 
 the State Papers and taken down immediately after 
 the events. The difference between Philip's stories 
 and the State Papers' accounts resembles the difference 
 between figures emblazoned on cathedral panes seen 
 from within the building and the same seen from 
 without, the difference between grey clouds and the 
 same steeped in sunset hues. The difference, in fact, 
 lies for the most part in colour and suggestion. Again 
 Philip makes the very natural mistake that his heroes 
 were champions of the Catholic religion. As such 
 they received great honour in Spain and noble pensions 
 from the Spanish king. They in fact, were not mainly 
 concerned about religion. What they generally fought 
 for was their rights and privileges as feudal lords. 
 This gives an ecclesiastical flavour to Philip's History, 
 which somewhat mars its worth and interest. Its 
 chief value lies in the curious and suggestive mmuticz 
 with which it abounds. Here is just one example. 
 After describing the battle of the Blackwater in his 
 own lively and vigorous style, Philip tells how a 
 certain General Romley pursued by Tyrone's horse, 
 
26 PHILIP (^SULLIVAN. 
 
 and finding flight hopeless, quietly sat down by the 
 side of the road, drew forth his pipe and tobacco-box, 
 and smoked up to the moment of his death. He was 
 slain while " absorbms herbce tabacci fumum per 
 fisty,lamf absorbing the smoke of tobacco through a 
 . tuhei The whole history abounds in such charming 
 and suggestive touches. Philip, as he grew up, was 
 undetermined whether to devote himself to war or to 
 the Muses. He finally resolved to cultivate both, 
 like Cervantes, Raleigh, Sydney, and many other 
 famous soldier writers of that age. He fought duels 
 too ; one of them — a most disastrous affair — he des- 
 cribes himself. A Norman-Irish gentleman named 
 Ratty conversing with Philip's chief, The O'Sullivan, 
 threw out some reflection upon the dignity of that 
 family. Philip who was present, said not a word but 
 went out waited for the contumelious man and ex- 
 postulated with him. Result — drawn swords. The 
 chieftain hastened out to put a end to the duel, but in 
 doing so got his death wound, not from Philip, but 
 from Batty. The likeness of that chieftain, Donal 
 O'Sullivan, Comes de Bearra, painted in Madrid will 
 be found in our National Gallery in the Leinster Lawn. 
 Philip entered the service of the Spanish King as a 
 soldier. Whether he distinguished himself as such I 
 cannot tell, but he was very likely to have done so. 
 Besides his history he wrote many Latin poems in 
 elegiac verse. Philip O'Sulli van's Historia Hibernia 
 is one of the best literary monuments of Ireland. 
 
KIEGANGAI^° N ™ LLEGE " BRA ^ 
 
 ESTNUT HILL, MASS. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The following story relates the cause of a small rebellion by which 
 the Government was much annoyed in 1 588, and several suc- 
 ceeding years. Through this story as through a small window, 
 one can see something of a very singular state of society. The 
 narrator is one of the servants of the insurgent Macanerla, a 
 title which means Son of the Earl. It must be remembered 
 that in those days there surrounded Earls, too, something of 
 the divinity that hedged a King. 
 
 THE BILLETING OF KIEGAXGAIR. 
 
 E, the people of Donald 
 jNLCartie, the Earl's only 
 son, were all together in 
 the great hall of his castle, 
 awaiting the arrival of the 
 Queen's messenger who was to fetch away our lord 
 to London for conference with her Highness and the 
 Council. The late Earl left but one legitimate child, 
 &*., the Lady Eileen M'Cartie, now in close wardship 
 with the State, of whose elopement with her cousin 
 
28 KIEGANGAIR. 
 
 Florence, all the world afterwards rang. Now ray 
 lord Donald, though born out of wedlock, was a man 
 of power over all M'Cartie More's country, and the 
 Queen and Council desired to confer with him, so as 
 to secure good order there under the circumstances 
 set forth, the people being at the time without any 
 rightful chief, lord, captain, or earl. 
 
 We had our best plate out that night, so that the 
 board shone with silver, and the hall, too, was all 
 draped, and we wore each man his bravest raiment 
 and ornaments in honour of the Queen, and also in 
 honour of the messenger, for he was chief of the nation 
 of the Prestons, i.e., that sept of them which was known 
 as the " proud Prestons " of Lancaster. My lord's 
 mother was of the Irish branch. My lord stood before 
 the fire, which was at the end of the hall, and his 
 favourite hound Kiegangair stood up against him, 
 resting his fore-paws on his shoulders, while my lord 
 held the dog's head between his hands. I often saw 
 them stand so before, and now recall it to mind clear 
 as a picture, for it was the last time that they stood 
 together so. Without it was a wild night, all darkness, 
 wind, and rain. Then we heard the clattering of hoofs, 
 and the noise of a troop in the courtyard. 
 
 The Preston, when he arrived, was a surprise to 
 us, for he was young and pleasant-looking, like 
 The Macanerla, and gay of speech and laughter- 
 loving. 
 
 You would have thought that he and The Macanerla 
 
KIEGANGAIR. 29 
 
 were brothers, save that my lord was fair-haired and 
 somewhat older. They sat together at the end of the 
 table, and many times my lord pledged him, and drank 
 to the health of the house of Preston — both the 
 English branch and the Irish. Three barrels of red 
 wine of Rochelles were broached that night. 
 
 At last The Macanerla rose and led his guest with 
 him into a withdrawing room, that they might talk to- 
 gether more privately. The hound rose at the same 
 time and followed his master into the other room. 
 There he lay down upon the hearth, and relaxed his 
 strong Hmbs in sleep. Tawny orange was his hue, and 
 he wore round his neck a collar of fine silver. That 
 night I was in personal attendance on the lord. 
 
 My lord and young Preston read together the Lord 
 Burleigh's letter, or rather Preston read it, my lord 
 listening and looking over his shoulder, and they con- 
 versed together at first gravely, but after that more 
 hilariously, and often they pledged each other, either 
 wishing the other good fortune. There was no light 
 in the chamber, save the blazing logs and turf on the 
 hearth, which it was my duty to replenish, and beside 
 which the great hound lay outstretched. Without, the 
 storm grew fiercer, the wind wheezed and coughed in 
 the wide chimney, from time to time heavy raindrops 
 fell and hissed upon the red brands. 
 
 My lord and his guest paused in their conversation, 
 and contemplated the hound, for he moaned in his 
 slumbers, and, as dreaming dogs will, worked with his 
 
3° KIEGANGAIR. 
 
 forefeet and scattered the ashes on the hearth. He 
 started to his feet, while the hairs on his back erected 
 themselves, and charged across the chamber, and 
 standing at the door bayed savagely a deep note of 
 warning and of rage. The Macanerla laughed. He 
 called the dog back, and caressing him, said, " No, 
 Kiegangair, it was but a dream. It is not as it used 
 to be ! " Then, turning to his guest, he said, "You 
 would not be surprised at our friendship if you knew 
 what we suffered together, I and Kiegangair. Once 
 beingwronged, I went into action of rebellion, drawing 
 along with me a large party of my own clan and others, 
 and for a while defended the action successfully. 
 Then one mischance followed another, and of my 
 comrades some were slain and some taken prisoner, 
 and others, despairing, fled the country, and some, 
 turning traitors for reward, had dealings with the Presi- 
 dent and Council that they might betray me. In the 
 end, I was forsaken of all, and being under the ban of 
 outlawry, was chased to and fro. But, O Kiegangair, 
 thou wouldst not forsake me. When I slept, whether 
 in cave or tree or under the ground, he mounted guard, 
 a faithful and vigilant sentry, and ever awoke me when 
 there was the smallest suspicion of danger. Before 
 me, as I fled, he went exploring thickets and marshes, 
 searching for parties in ambush, of which were many. 
 Armed men he has dragged down fighting by my side. 
 Also thou wert my food-provider, Kiegangair, when we 
 hunted, not for sport, but that we might remain alive. 
 
KIEGANGAIR. 3 1 
 
 Often we fasted and spent sleepless nights, lying close 
 together for warmth, when famine would not suffer us 
 to sleep. Once when I had a fever, he nursed me, 
 bringing me water in my helmet from the stream. 
 Yea, Kiegangair, we have suffered many tilings to- 
 gether when all the world was against us." The 
 Macanerla bowed his yellow head low, caressing the 
 hound, while tears sprung from his eyes as he thought 
 of all the sorrows of the past, and the love and courage 
 of his matchless hound. " The morning with its full 
 light would come upon us," he said, " ere I could make 
 an end of telling even a tithe of the things which Kie- 
 gangair and I have suffered and done in each others 
 company, when we were outlaws." 
 
 The Macanerla and the young Saxon gentleman, his 
 cousin, slept that night in the same bed, and kissed 
 each other ere they slept. Early in the morning The 
 Macanerla called his chief officers, and bade them 
 quarter all his soldiers, horse and foot, and his dogs 
 and dog-boys, and hawks and hawk-boys upon the 
 gentleman of Cork and Desmond till his return. He 
 bade his master of the hounds quarter Kiegangair upon 
 a certain Shane Du, a rich farmer in Desmond, and 
 tenant to a small lord there named O'Falvey. The 
 morning was bright and fine. It was October, and the 
 woods all ruddy and russet, and bright gold ; a calm 
 had succeeded the storm, and there was hoar frost on 
 the ground and on the leaves. The sun too rose clear 
 and strong and all the world looked happy. The 
 
32 KIEGANGAIR. 
 
 Macanerla took an affectionate farewell of Kiegangair, 
 and the boy who had charge of him led him away into 
 the O'Falvey's country in Desmond of deep valleys. 
 
 II. 
 
 FUN BY THE WAYSIDE. 
 
 As soon as we had broken our fast we got to horse 
 in order to accompany our lord to Cork, where he was 
 to embark for Barstable and we rode down the Lee 
 Valley. My lord and Preston rode together. Plumes 
 danced, bright capes and mantles fluttered, and chain 
 reins rang pleasantly that morning. 
 
 Then, as ill-luck would have it, we riding to Cork 
 after the Earl's son, met O'Falvey riding from Cork 
 into Desmond. Where we met, the road was lifted up 
 like a causeway, and on our left side between the road 
 and the fence there was a deep gut filled with water, 
 owing to the heavy rain of the previous night. O'Falvey 
 who was weighty and stout, rode upon a powerful 
 hackney. His two servants were also well mounted, 
 and three horse boys ran beside the horses. The two 
 servants saluted The Macanerla respectfully. O'Falvey 
 did not salute at ail, but looked fixedly before him. I 
 noted his eyes as I passed, and they were filled with 
 pride, anger, and rebellion. My lord did not observe 
 that affront. We who did said to one another, " This 
 churl standeth on his charter. He is a no man's man 
 forsooth." 
 
KIEGANGAIR. 33 
 
 After we who were beside or behind The Macanerla 
 had passed by, the main body of our troop came up, 
 and certain of the younger men stopped O'Falvey and 
 demanded of him why he had not capped the Earl's 
 son, and O'Falvey answered stiffly, " Cap him your- 
 selves \ he is no lord of mine ; " and they answered, 
 "Nay, but he is thy lord; for time out of mind the 
 O'Falvies have been followers to M'Cartie More, and 
 if he were not thy lord yet is he an Earl's son, and to 
 be capped by one like thee." It was Garret Mac 
 Randal O'Leary, of Sweet Prospect, who said this, and 
 as he said it he drove his horse, which was a chief 
 horse, or horse of war, alongside of O'Falvey's. And 
 first he made the chief horse push O'Falvey's beast 
 playfully with his hind-quarters, and then to butt at 
 him playfully with his foreshoulder, and so, while he 
 (Garret) still vociferated, and O'Falvey responded with 
 countervociferation, in the end he pushed the other 
 and his horse clean off the highway, so that both fell 
 into the gripe. Then our young men raised a great 
 shout of joyous laughter, and rode swiftly after their 
 lord, and the event supplied them with much mirthful 
 conversation for the rest of the way. Moreover, they 
 composed a song upon that theme with an appropriate 
 chorus, and chanted it as they rode, singing with open 
 mouths the discomfiture of O'Falvey, and ironically 
 praising the war-prowess of Garret, son of Randal. So 
 spent, the time was not long ere 'the east gate of Cork, 
 adorned with many heads, rose to view. 
 
 c 
 
34 KIEGANGAIR. 
 
 III. 
 
 O'FALVEY'S REVENGE. 
 
 Meantime O'Falvey, assisted by his servants, climbed 
 with difficulty out of the gripe, and muddy and drip- 
 ping, remounted his horse, and rode homeward silent. 
 He was devoured by anger and hatred. When he 
 reached home his people came out into the yard to 
 meet him, bearing torches. Then when the light fell 
 upon his features, which were dry and aggravated, the 
 word went round amongst them that the lord was not 
 at ease in his mind. 
 
 O'Falvey, after he had changed his clothes and 
 supped and had drunk somewhat, broke the silence by 
 asking his chief steward for the news. 
 
 The steward answered — " There is no news other 
 than that a dog and a dog boy of The Macanerla have 
 arrived this day, and taken quarters with Shane Du, 
 of Glasnafmshon," viz., the Torrent of the Ash trees. 
 
 O'Falvey bade the steward kill the dog early the 
 next morning, and beat the dog boy over the mearing. 
 " The Queen," he said, "will bear me through in that 
 action." 
 
 But the steward made answer clear and bold that he 
 would not hurt a hair of the head of either of them, of 
 the dog or the boy. 
 
 " Thou art afraid," said O'Falvey. 
 
 " Afraid or not," said the steward, " I will not do it. 
 Do it yourself." 
 
KIEGANGAIR. 35 
 
 " I will," said OTalvey. 
 
 " Have a care, my lord," said his wife, who sat next 
 to him at the right. " Have a care I beseech thee, for 
 I think the dog is Kiegangair." 
 
 " Who has seen the dog?" said the chief. 
 
 " I saw him, your honour," answered a boy who 
 with others sat at the supper table. " His colour is 
 yellow-red, one colour throughout, without spot or 
 stripe ; his head is small, considering his great size, 
 and for beauty there is not his like in Desmond. A 
 young gentleman, bravely attired, led him by a chain 
 of polished brass fastened to a collar of silver. A 
 laden garran, attended by a churl, was with him. I 
 saw the party in the bohareen that leads down to the 
 torrent where are the falls. They stood a while all to- 
 gether, looking at the white falls. My lord, the dog is 
 Kiegangair." 
 
 O'Falvey smiled to himself, but said nothing. He 
 perceived that his people by no means approved of the 
 ill deed which he meditated. After supper he and the 
 lady went into a private room. There with dried leaves 
 of tobacco tree he filled the bowl of a long earthen 
 pipe, and after he had ignited and inflamed it he silently 
 inhaled the noisome smoke into his lungs and vitals, 
 and again expelled it in blue rolling volumes both from 
 his nostrils and his mouth. This was a common 
 practice with O'Falvey, whensoever he might take food, 
 whether in the morning or at midday]or at night. He 
 was slovenly in attire, and wore an Abraham's beard* 
 
36 KIEGANGAIR. 
 
 His wife sat apart and plied her needle, embroider- 
 ing a garment for her son. His cradle was by her side, 
 and she wrought having one foot on the rocker. This 
 night a great fear gathered like ice around her heart, 
 and shapeless terror beat the air with unseen wings. 
 She was of the Geraldines of the West — viz., a fair bud 
 of the stem of Raymond the Conqueror, and was 
 famous in all Desmond for beauty, hospitality, good 
 counsel, and elegant manners. 
 
 The Macanerla is gone into England," she said. 
 
 "That he may stay there ! " said O'Falvey. 
 
 " That would be a gallant gentleman lost to us," 
 she answered, "and a good friend to thee and me." 
 
 " He quarters his dogs and dog boys on us and 
 devours our living," quoth the chief. 
 
 " Nay, my lord," she said, " some ill councillor 
 hath spoken with thee ; see, The Macanerla has entrus- 
 ted to us his favourite and much-loved hound, Kiegan- 
 gair, whose fame is noised over the five provinces for 
 courage and faithfulness. He sent thee but one dog, 
 and that dog was Kiegangair." 
 
 So far she spoke, and then kept silence. 
 
 When O'Falvey had made an end of that monstrous 
 and astonishing fumigation of his internal parts he 
 began to drink, and as the aqua vita inflamed him his 
 wrath against The Macanerla and the whole breed and 
 seed of great lords grew hotter. Then he arose and 
 left the house by a postern, avoiding the great hall 
 where were his people, and went in the direction of a 
 
KIEGANGAIR, 37 
 
 light which was further down in the valley, steering his 
 course by that bad star. It was an alehouse, to which 
 the churles and rude rustical people of the vicinity used 
 to resort, and whose society he preferred to that of his 
 own household. They were glad when they saw him, 
 and stood up, but he bade them resume their seats. 
 To these ignoble folk then he related the insults and 
 oppressions of The Macanerla, and they fed his humour 
 and flattered him to his ruin. He slept there that 
 night, and in the morning, attended by a great crowd 
 of plebeian folk, his tenants, he went on to the valley 
 of the Stream of the Ash trees to the house of Shane 
 Du. As they approached the house Kiegangair and 
 the dog boy came out together, followed by Shane 
 Du. The dog boy was a lad of some twenty years, 
 with the first down on his unrazored lip, very 
 comely, and a dear friend to The Macanerla. He 
 wore a doublet of green velvet and a little scarlet 
 cape, and had two long darts in his left hand. His 
 right rested on the head of Kiegangair. 
 
 Kiegangair, seeing the multitude of plebeians, 
 growled low and fierce, for he was wont to associate 
 only with men-of-war and gentlemen ; but when 
 O'Falvey drew nigh, not perceiving in his simplicity 
 what lay underneath the buff coat and plumed hat, nor 
 what a churl was girded with a sword, the dog ap- 
 proached him with an air of welcome. Then O'Falvey 
 drew his sword and ran it twice through the body of 
 Kiegangair, and as the boy ran forward, he was seized 
 
38 KIEGANGAIR. 
 
 by strong rustic arms and hurled to the ground, and 
 his head struck against the stone seat which was under 
 the eaves of the house by the door, and he became 
 insensible. 
 
 Shane Du the while stood in the doorway, his face 
 white upon the darkness behind. He did not stir, 
 though indignant, fearing to make bad worse. 
 
 Kiegangair, collapsing in a lake of blood, moaned a 
 little, was silent, and gazed at his murderer. O'Falvey 
 thought to run him through the third time, but was 
 afraid. 
 
 Then the wretched man went home, boasting as he 
 went, but there was no heart in his boasting. His 
 people dropped away from him one by one, so that he 
 entered his house alone. When she saw him, his wife 
 cried — " Thou hast killed Kiegangair. Thou hast slain 
 innocence and truth. God will requite thee for that 
 evil deed ! " 
 
 And the chief answered — " It was no evil deed. 
 Listen, O ! woman, for I shall convict thee of folly. I 
 was in the great hall of the Royal fortress of Shandon 
 and one of the gentlemen of the Lee Valley asked 
 Sir John Perrott what he should do when a great lord 
 sent in dogs and dog boys to be quartered upon him. 
 And Sir John Perrott stamped with his foot, so, and 
 answered — i 's death, man ! Kill the dogs and scourge 
 the dog boys over the mearings. These doltish old 
 customs/ said he, ' are ended ; know that, once for 
 all. If the great lords break their charters, I will 
 
KIEGANGAIR, 39 
 
 break them. That I swear. 5 Those were his very 
 words, and he said them in the hearing of the White 
 Knight, and Patrick Condon, and the three 
 M'Carties." 
 
 Never before had O'Falvey spoken so long or so 
 well. His wife was silent for a while, and then she 
 said — " Show me thy charter," and when he gave it to 
 her she drew a scissors from a little scabbard in her 
 girdle, and thrust it through the document. 
 
 " See," she said, "what goes through it, and driven 
 by what a hand ! Man, it is but parchment/' 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE MACANERLA'S RETURN. 
 
 When The Macanerla returned to Ireland in De- 
 cember, many of us, his people, rode to Moyallo to 
 meet him. As we drew towards home The Macanerla 
 halted at a rising ground near the castle, and said — 
 
 " Hark, now we shall hear the grand baying of 
 Kiegangair." 
 
 He was surprised and disappointed that he did not. 
 When we rode into the courtyard, and the other 
 hounds came round him, he called aloud for Kiegan- 
 gair. The master of the hounds said that Kiegangair 
 was not yet arrived. The Macanerla said — 
 
 "Is he well?" and the master answered, "He is 
 well," but his face blenched as he said it, and when the 
 lord turned away he made upon himself the sign of the 
 
40 KIEGANGAIR. 
 
 cross, as if that could wipe away the stain of the 
 untruth. 
 
 " To-morrow," said The Macanerla, " we will draw 
 the woods of Ballyvourney for a pig — there is a lusty 
 one there — bat not until Kiegangair arrives. Send a 
 horseman to quicken the movements of the slow boy." 
 
 As he entered the castle he paused with one foot on 
 the threshold and said — 
 
 " I hear a moaning as of a sick hound." A second 
 lie was told when he said that, so that shame and 
 horror fell upon us who heard it. We thought that 
 it would not be so bad as by actual proof we now 
 found it to be. 
 
 At supper The Macanerla was very gay, and related 
 many things concerning London, and the great people 
 and sights there, and concerning the respect with which 
 he had been treated by the lords of the Council and the 
 Queen. 
 
 " Dear friends and comrades," he said, u I am right 
 glad to be at home once more ; would that Kiegangair 
 were here ; then would my happiness be complete." 
 
 When he said this there entered the hall a youth 
 bearing a dog in his arms. It was Kiegangair, swathed 
 and bandaged, still alive, and reaching forth his neck to 
 come to his dear master. He had just sufficient strength 
 to lick once more for the last time his dear master's 
 face, then his head fell forward, and the brave spirit 
 went out of him and he died. When The Macanerla 
 stood silent and bewildered, the lad spoke. 
 
KIEGANGATR. 4 1 
 
 " ! Macanerla," he said, " they bade me conceal all 
 till to morrow, that thou mightst have thy first night 
 happy in the courts of thy fathers and amongst thy dear 
 comrades. But when Kiegangair was dying, and be- 
 cause he knew thy voice, I said I would bring him to 
 thee, that you might look on one another once more 
 ere the black river roll between. And it is not by the 
 act of God he is dead before thee, but by the devisings 
 of the devil and the hand of a bad chief, for it was 
 O'Falvey who slew him, who stabbed him twice be- 
 cause he was thy dog, and because he was quartered 
 upon him he said unlawfully." 
 
 Then Donald Bwee, the rigdamna, and princeps 
 designates of the Clan Cartie high and puissant lifted 
 up his voice and cried aloud for his dog, even as a 
 young man laments for his dear friend and comrade 
 whom he loves more than life, so The Macanerla with- 
 out shame and without restraint, cried aloud, for the 
 flood-tide of his grief, strong and impetuous, could 
 not be controlled, and the women in the castle and 
 in all the town round about when they heard him, 
 lifted up their voices too and raised the cry of the 
 dead, for the great sorrow of the young lord over- 
 flowed into all hearts. After that the Earl's son drew 
 forward the folds of his mantle of fine scarlet lined 
 with ermine, and concealed in them his face, bowing 
 low his noble head, and his eyes became like rivers 
 and his mantle was steeped in tears, and no word 
 came from his mouth till a third part of the night was 
 
42 KIEGANGAIR. 
 
 spent, and all his people sat in silence on account of 
 his sorrow. They extinguished the lights and neither 
 ate nor drank. Then in the middle of the night at 
 first cock crow The Macanerla stood up, and speaking 
 to us with a voice hoarse and untuned, he said that 
 he would exact a terrible and long-remembered retri- 
 bution on the murderers of Kiegangair, and when we 
 said that we would bear him out in that course, aye, 
 though it brought him into action of rebellion against 
 our lawful sovereign, he bade the bugle sound w to 
 horse." By the light of torches our horses were 
 accoutred. Many hours we rode darkling, moving 
 ever northwards into Desmond up the valley of the 
 Black Alio, following the white plume of our lord ; 
 and the dawn broke cold and grey. When we came 
 into O'Falvey's country it was silent and empty. Mar- 
 velling at that we rode on to the chiefs mansion, 
 which was in a sheltered valley, having its back to 
 the north wind. We thought at first that it too was 
 empty, but when we came close to it we saw a man 
 sitting in an upper window, and knew that it was 
 O'Falvey. When we challenged him he came out at 
 once, descending on the outside by a ladder. How 
 he came to be there I learned afterwards from himself. 
 It happened in this way. When O'Falvey heard that 
 The Macanerla was about to return home he went to 
 Sir Warham St. Leger, and required of him an army 
 for his defence. 
 
 Sir Warham said— " I cannot give thee an army, 
 
KIEGANGAIR. 43 
 
 but this I surely promise, that when The Macanerla 
 kills thee I will be in no haste to forgive him." 
 
 With this mock sounding in his ear O'Falvey re- 
 turned to Desmond. That night he had evil dreams, 
 viz. — Kiegangair, grown to giant size, hunting him 
 over land and sea, and he awoke and feared to sleep 
 again. The next day he made preparations for the 
 removal of all his people, and the complete evacua- 
 tion of his territory, and again at night had bad 
 dreams, and the following day they set out and 
 escaped into the country of the Knight of the Valley. 
 But thither he said Kiegangair pursued him in visions 
 of the night, and then in broad daylight, and with his 
 waking eyes he saw him, so that whether he waked 
 or slept he could get no ease. Accordingly one night, 
 telling no one, he mounted his horse and rode home. 
 All the doors having been made fast, it was by a 
 ladder that he entered his house. This was how 
 he came to be sitting in that window, for he ex- 
 pected our coming, and the window commanded 
 a good outlook down the valley. While he 
 sat there he recalled the words of his father, 
 " Stand ever by the Queen, my sons, it is the 
 post of honour and the post of safety." He mar- 
 velled how it had become for him the post of 
 dishonour and early death. When my lord asked 
 him whether he had any defence or justification 
 he answered with a Saxon proverb which signifies 
 that when anything needs mending it will be 
 
44 KIEGANGAIR. 
 
 soonest repaired by keeping silence. He also said 
 that he did the deed contrary to the wish of his 
 household and the advisement of his wife. We bound 
 him and set him on a led horse, and brought him 
 away. I was appointed to minister to him, and when 
 we came home I gave him breakfast with strong ale 
 and a reasonable proportion of aqua vitce, and he ate 
 and drank and smoked. He said that he was happy 
 in his mind, and while he smoked he related many 
 things to me, and amongt others how he had spent 
 his early manhood as supercargo of merchant ships 
 plying between Bristol and Havre, and that he suc- 
 ceeded to his father's place by an accident. 
 
 " When I resolved to give myself up," he said, 
 " the dog ceased to haunt me." 
 
 He would have no priest to visit him, but he re- 
 peated a prayer in the Saxon tongue, and the names 
 of his wife and of his little son were frequent in that 
 prayer. The same day we buried Kiegangair under 
 a tree on the west side of the castle near the river, 
 and there we hanged O'Falvey on the same tree. 
 Then the Earl's son and all we his people, bathed and 
 changed our clothes and we entered the great hall and 
 lit many candles, and ate and drank, and the Earl's 
 son spoke comfortably about Kiegangair, and related 
 certain of his feats. He said he would exact no further 
 eric on the clan of O'Falvey, but would, if anything, 
 rather make amends to the widow and the innocent 
 child. Shortly after he said this, word was brought 
 
KIKGANGAIR. 4^ 
 
 to him that a party of O'Falvey's people were without 
 and begged the body of their lord. The Macanerla 
 ordered it to be given to them, and also horses and 
 the best car in the town for the conveyance of the 
 body, and that for their piety and faithfulness they 
 should be hospitably treated by his servants. Accord- 
 ingly, when they had eaten and drunk to their satis- 
 faction, they cut down the body and took it away 
 with them into Desmond and made lamentation 
 over the slain man and recounted his good deeds. 
 
 The President sent a troop to arrest The Macanerla 
 for the murder, and they returned saying that they 
 were not strong enough. Then he sent against him 
 an army under the command of Captain Bostock. The 
 Macanerla retreated into the west of the country into 
 Desmond, stood upon his keeping for a long time 
 after that, and was proclaimed as a rebel against his 
 sovereign. 
 
THE VENGEANCE OF THE 
 O'HAGANS. 
 
 " I'll tell thee a story 
 And a story that's true." 
 
 {Old Song.) 
 
 The following story supplies a picture of wild feudal Irish life 
 in the 16th century outside the precincts of the Pale and 
 the regions directly governed by the Viceroy of Ireland and 
 the Council. 
 
 A GENTLEMAN OF ULSTER. 
 
 the time of the great Earl of Tyrone, and 
 before he went into rebellion against Her 
 Highness the Queen, there was a gentleman 
 of the Earl's clan named Felim O'Neill, 
 whose chief house was upon an island in the 
 • midst of a small lake close to the Bann. 
 A bridge of timber ran from the mainland to the island 
 at the point where the lake was narrowest. It was pro- 
 tected by a fort at the end where it touched the main- 
 land. The bridge was movable, and could be let up 
 or down, like the draw-bridge of a moat. There was a 
 
THE VENGEANCE OF THE HAGANS. 47 
 
 strong wall surrounding the island protected with stakes 
 and palisades. When Felinrs people at night drew 
 up the draw-bridge it became a portion of the wall. 
 Within the island was the house of the lord. There 
 was a lawn in front of the house, and, hard by, gardens 
 and an orchard; also ornamental timber. The house 
 itself was low and thatched and built in the form of 
 a square surrounding a court-yard, and the walls were 
 white with lime. Felim had large estates and many 
 tenants. He was a man of great power and wealth, 
 but was under the government of the Earl, and paid 
 him a customary rent. 
 
 One morning, as he sat at breakfast with his people, 
 Felim addressed them all and said — " The morning 
 promises a fine day : let us ride to the north-western 
 angle of my country," indicating it by name, " and 
 bring with us one eyrie of our hawks. We shall have 
 good sport and compel good entertainment, for I hear 
 grouse are numerous in these townlands, and I know 
 that the tenants have not paid me rent for a long 
 time. If we cannot get money out of those churls, 
 let us quarter ourselves upon them for a night and two 
 days. They are too rich for churls. I promise they 
 will not be too rich when we take our departure." He 
 laughed pleasantly as he spoke, and his men laughed 
 too. 
 
 OX THE HIGH ROAD. 
 
 Felinrs people were glad of that proposal, and made 
 ready accordingly. The morning was, indeed, bright 
 
48 THE VENGEANCE OF THE o'HAGANS. 
 
 and fine, but the wind was high and made a curl 
 upon the waters of the lake. When the hounds heard 
 the noises of preparation and the trampling of the 
 horses' hoofs upon the hollow-sounding causeway they 
 bayed from their kennels. 
 
 11 That is a mournful noise which the hounds make 
 to-day," said Felim. " Hark, how the Music-master 
 wails ! Is there anyone dead in the crannog, or in the 
 town ? " 
 
 11 There is not, my lord," said one of his gentlemen ; 
 " but there may be before the day is done." 
 
 "It is an unpleasant sound," said Felim. 
 
 After that they all rode westward with the hawks, 
 and what with the motion and noise of the horses and 
 the ringing of chain-reins, the jingling of spurs and the 
 clanking of swords, and owing to the freshness of the 
 morning, and their anticipations of good sport and 
 agreeable night quarters, the whole company became 
 very joyous, and they talked much and laughed as 
 they went, and they went swiftly. 
 
 They were about ten miles from the crannog, and 
 had but a little passed a place where two roads met 
 when they saw far away a small company riding to 
 meet them. At first they could not distinguish who 
 they were, for they saw only the bright and various- 
 coloured mantles fluttering in the wind, and one 
 white plume as it were dancing in the midst of that 
 company. 
 
 As they drew nearer one of Felim's people who was 
 
THE VENGEANCE OF THE O HAGAXs. 49 
 
 very sharp sighted said, " The youth with the feather 
 is Shane O'Hagan. Well I know the saucy carriage 
 of his head. That youth is the proudest limb of 
 the small proud clans in Ireland to-day. Since their 
 foster-brother the Earl has grown so great, they think 
 no more of us all than if we were the pit gravel of the 
 road under the feet of their horses." 
 
 FELIM MUST FLY. 
 
 Then one of Felim's chief men, whose name was 
 Donnell Ogue, said, " That is the man who insulted 
 thee at Castle Roe, on the Bann side," referring to 
 something said or done by the youth, said or done in 
 boyish heedlessness and levity and straightway for- 
 gotten. 
 
 So the two companies, the great and the small, 
 continually approaching, drew together. When they 
 came within speaking distance Shane O'Hagan lifted 
 up a loud clear friendly voice and saluted Felim and 
 his company. That Shane was a very comely young 
 man, blue eyed and yellow-haired, and with the hair 
 of early manhood just showing on his upper lip. He 
 was greatly beloved by his brothers, and also by the 
 Earl and the whole of his own clan. Felim did 
 not once raise his cap to that salutation, or utter 
 one word of a reply. Seeing this the young man 
 reddened, and the blush of wrath and shame 
 overspread his white forehead, and, with a strong 
 
 D 
 
50 THE VENGEANCE OF THE OHAGANS. 
 
 voice, he bade one of Felim's people clear the road, 
 and give free passage to the foster-brethren of 
 O'Neill, i.e. the great Earl high and mighty who was 
 the head and captain of Ulster in his day. All the 
 particulars of what then took place are not recorded, 
 only that Felim's people being many, drew upon that 
 company being few, and did not finish with them before 
 they slew that brave and dear youth, and also one 
 faithful follower, and put the rest to flight; and that Felim 
 stood by, and never once interfered, by word or act, 
 while that cowardly slaughter was being committed. 
 Then some of Felim's people were for stripping the 
 dead, as though they had been slain in battle, and for 
 seizing and making prey of their horses ; but Felim 
 with menacing words restrained them, and he bade 
 them restore Shane's sword to his scabbard, for it had 
 fallen from his grasp in the fight. So they rode for- 
 ward, Felim's men exulting and triumphant at having 
 slain an enemy and avenged an insult to their dear 
 lord and master ; but Felim himself rode with a dark 
 brow, and in silence, for when the first anger went out 
 of him he repented, and bitterly 'he foresaw that the 
 Earl or the kindred of the slain man would exact upon 
 him a dreadful vengeance on account of that bad deed. 
 So when they came to the next parting of the ways, the 
 lord Felim said with a strong oath, that he would not go 
 a-hawking or a-coshering that day, and he turned aside 
 his horse's head and rode home by another way, so that 
 he should not pass by the bodies, and all his people 
 
THE VENGEANCE OF THE O HAGANS. 5 I 
 
 rode after him in silence. Sorrowful and anxious were 
 their minds upon that return journey to the crannog. 
 The sky, too, became gloomy and overcast with clouds, 
 and the wind rose, so that when they reached the 
 crannog, the lake was w r hite with foam, and the black 
 trees were violently agitated by the blast. Felim's 
 people in the crannog were surprised at that early and 
 unexpected return ; and when she heard the noise of 
 the horses' hoofs upon the bridge, his wife, Julia, 
 daughter of the lord of Clannaboy, cast around her a 
 mantle with a hood to cover the head, hastily, and 
 came down to the bridge to meet him, for her mind 
 misgave her that some mischief was abroad. She took 
 with her her eldest son, Hugh, who was six years old 
 lacking a month. When Felim saw her he lighted 
 down from his horse, and he kissed his little son. 
 Then he walked with his wife alone to the house, and 
 conversed with her for a long time in a private cham- 
 ber. The resolution at which they arrived in that 
 conference was, that Felim should ride at once to 
 Dublin to the Lord Deputy and Council, bringing rich 
 gifts, in order that they might make his peace with 
 the Clan O'Hagan, and with the Earl. It was also 
 resolved that the lady and the children should leave 
 the crannog at the same time, and go to her father into 
 the country of the children of Yellow Hugh, namely, 
 Clannaboy. Felim also gave orders to his chief men 
 to flee away all the cattle and horses, flocks and herds, 
 and movable property in general, for he greatly feared 
 
52 THE VENGEANCE OF THE O HAGANS. 
 
 the wrath of the kindred of the slain man. These 
 things were done, and Felim with Donnell Ogue, viz., 
 the man who had that morning reminded him of the 
 insult, and two others, taking to themselves fresh 
 horses, rode from the crannog. 
 
 CHRISTIAN MEEKNESS OF THE O'HAGANS. 
 
 Those who had escaped from that slaughter made 
 by Felim and his people on the highway, galloped 
 thence by a direct road to the place where were the 
 brethren of the slain man. They happened at the 
 time to be teaching the art of war to their young 
 warriors. Some of these in doublets of scarlet and with 
 battle-caps of brass upon their heads, were shooting 
 out of calyvers, and others, dressed in Irish fashion, 
 were casting their spears at a figure made of wood that 
 stood a long way off, and Hugh Ogue O'Hagan, the 
 youngest brother of the murdered lad, was teaching 
 them, for he was very expert in that art. The fugitives 
 having related what was done, there broke forth from 
 the assembly a great shout of wrath and sorrow, and 
 the women who were in the castle and in the surround- 
 ing houses, when they heard them, lifted up their 
 voices too, and the whole town was filled with lamenta- 
 tion. 
 
 But the eldest brother whose name was Owen, wept 
 not nor lamented, nor did he utter one angry word, 
 but kept his countenance with a powerful movement 
 
THE VENGEANCE OF THE O HAGANS. S3 
 
 of the will, as though his features had been carved out 
 of hard rock. He first ordered his constable to take 
 and confine those fugitives, for he said that it was they 
 who, by their cowardice, had slain his brother. Then 
 he called to him his two surviving brothers, namely 
 Henry, skilful in the training of chief-horses, and Hugh 
 Ogue, the expert hurler of spears, and bade them cease 
 from their vain lamentation and weeping. When 
 these had made an end of their mourning, the three 
 brothers conferred together alone by themselves. 
 Afterwards, coming forth, Owen bade the horseboys 
 get ready as many horses of service, and hackneys, as 
 were in the castle stables, or in the town, and all the 
 O'Hagans, as many as were horsemen, armed them- 
 selves and put on their battle-dresses. So Owen 
 O'Hagan took the road with a score and two horsemen, 
 and every man in a shirt of ring mail, with his hauberk 
 on his breast, and his horseman's staff in his hand. 
 
 Soon they reached the scene of the slaughter, which 
 was easily distinguishable, for the road was torn up 
 from the trampling of the horses, and was scattered 
 with blood. The bodies, however, were not immediately 
 visible, for pious neighbours, poor herdsmen and tillers 
 of earth, who dwelt there, had cast mantles upon them. 
 On the road lay the body of the servant, and on the 
 road side, where he fell, lay the body of Shane. The 
 road here was a tochar or raised causeway, cross- 
 ing a bog. When the boy Shane got his death-blow, 
 he had fallen from his horse on the edge of the tochar, 
 
54 THE VENGEANCE OF THE OHACANS. 
 
 and thence rolled over into the bog, but his plumed 
 hat was caught in a thorn that grew on the edge of the 
 way, and the body lay underneath that thorn in the 
 bog, for no one dared touch or remove it till the kindred 
 had arrived. There were four caillias (old women) 
 beating their hands together as they swayed to and fro, 
 and making great lamentation over the body. On the 
 road were certain churls holding the horses of the slain 
 men. When Owen raised the mantle that covered the 
 face of his dear brother, and when they all recognised 
 the features of their kinsmen, they wept anew and 
 lamented, but Owen neither lamented nor wept. He 
 inquired of the country people whether they had any 
 news from the crannog, and when they told him that the 
 lord had departed one way and the lady another, 
 " That is well," he said. "Enough blood has been 
 spilled this day." 
 
 They made two litters with their horsemen's staves 
 for the bearing of the bodies, and cast over them the 
 costliest and most beautiful mantles in all the company, 
 and having rewarded the mourning-women, as was 
 right, they returned along the road that they had come. 
 After the obsequies many persons, both kindred and 
 friends, spoke with Owen and his brothers about taking 
 vengeance for that deed ; but still he kept saying that 
 enough of blood had been spilled over the quarrel, 
 that sharp tongues draw on sharp swords, that it was 
 the Earl's business, and other such like speeches. 
 Though the crannog was empty and deserted they 
 
THE VENGEANCE OF THE O'HAGANS. 55 
 
 never went there. A report of the mild speeches and 
 demeanour of the three brethren went abroad over the 
 country, and some men praised and some men blamed. 
 Then Felim's people whom he had left in Ulster, 
 and who were w r eary of living upon the hospitality of 
 strangers and foreigners, took courage'and ventured 
 home. They were under the leading of Felim's 
 younger brother, and they came back with their flocks 
 and herds and horses and movables, and occupied the 
 crannog again, and all the rich demesne lands of Lord 
 Felim. But they made themselves as strong as they 
 could against the O'Hagans and kept good watch and 
 ward. Yet was the demeanour of the O'Hagans 
 towards them quiet and peaceable. They uttered no 
 angry speech and did not touch corn or horn on all 
 Felim's estates. 
 
 PERQUISITES OF OFFICE. 
 
 Felim and Donnell Ogue rode straight from the 
 crannog to Dublin. They took lodgings in a street 
 near the Castle, and by the advice of Sir Henry 
 Bagenal, Marshal of Ireland, they sent rich gifts to the 
 Lord Deputy Fitzwilliam and to the Council. The 
 Lord Deputy sent for Felim, and received him in a 
 private chamber of the Castle. He was under physic 
 at the time, being of a moist constitution of body. 
 Moreover he suffered sorely from podagra. His foot 
 which was swathed in warm flannels, was resting upon 
 a stool curiously embroidered, when Felim entered 
 
56 THE VENGEANCE OF THE O'HAGANS. 
 
 that sumptuous apartment and made his reverence to 
 the chief Governor of Ireland. Fitzwilliam never- 
 theless pointed out to Felim the great heinousness of 
 his offence and the disgrace it would be to the Queen's 
 Government if due punishment were not inflicted for 
 that slaying of the young man Shane O'Hagan. 
 Felim returned sadly to his lodgings, but after further 
 conference with the Marshal he sent more and richer 
 gifts to the Lord Deputy, and promised besides that 
 he would send to him the two casts of falcons which 
 he had left behind in the crannog if haply they had 
 not been already seized by the O'Hagans or by the 
 great Earl. Felim advanced in the good opinions of 
 the Lord Deputy and Council after that. Subsequently 
 the great Earl came to Dublin. The Lord Deputy 
 and Council spoke to him about that matter of Felim, 
 and ordered him to pardon Felim. The Earl was much 
 displeased at being obliged to pardon a man who, 
 while under his own government, had murdered his 
 foster-brother. They also ordered him to treat Felim 
 in every respect like the rest of his freehold tenants, 
 and in the third place to forgive him a year's rent. 
 These were hard conditions to impose upon a man like 
 him. Felim's gifts accordingly brought in a good return. 
 They also drew out a solemn pardon of their own for 
 Felim and signed it, and it was sealed with the Seal of 
 the Realm, and it was placed in the Archives of the 
 State, and it is there now. All this of course was a 
 great indignity to the Earl, but he feared that he would 
 not be allowed to depart on this occasion but that he 
 
THE VENGEANCE OF THE OHAGANS. 57 
 
 would be taken prisoner and sent to England, and 
 there destroyed after the manner of Sir John Perrot. 
 He did what he was required, yet he stated openly to 
 the Council that it was not in his power to defend 
 Felim after what he had done, and that Felim would 
 surely come to an ill end if he again went down to 
 Ulster, relying on these pardons and promises. 
 
 Felim, accordingly, still feared to return home, but in 
 the end, though he mistrusted the mild speeches of 
 the O'Hagans which were reported to him, he felt sad 
 and unhappy at being such a long time away from his 
 own country. So he rode down again to Ulster, and 
 came first to the country of the children of Yellow 
 Hugh, viz., the O'Neills of Clannaboy, his wife's 
 people, and there his wife advised him to go straight 
 to the Earl wherever he might be, and ask him to take 
 their eldest child Hugh to foster. She said that if the 
 Earl would consent and entered the sacred bonds of 
 fosterage with them, then they might all safely return 
 to the crannog; but that if the Earl refused they had 
 best never go back any more, She also told him that 
 he should keep well on his guard against the brothers 
 of the slain man and not to trust himself with the 
 O'Hagans anywhere save under the eyes of the Earl, 
 and not even there if he could help it. 
 
 FELIM VISITS THE EARL. 
 
 Felim, accordingly, took to him Donnell Ogue, who 
 had been with him from the first, though he had been 
 but an ill friend to him, and Heber O'Neill, son of 
 
58 THE VENGEANCE OF THE 0*HAGANS. 
 
 Rory, and Calvach O'Neill, son of Ferdoragh, and 
 others the most valiant of the gentlemen who were his 
 kindred, and crossed the mearings and entered Tyrone. 
 There having made enquiries he learned that the Earl 
 was encamped, above all other places, at Felim's own 
 crannog. His informant also told him that the Earl's 
 forces occupied tents which they had pitched round 
 about the lake, and that the Earl and the Countess, 
 Mabel Bagenal, daughter of the Marshal, were in the 
 house upon the island, and that Hugh Maguire, Lord 
 of Fermanagh, was with him, and that the O'Hagans 
 were not with him. So with his men, all tall men and 
 valiant, Felim rode boldly to the crannog. It happened 
 to be Friday, the nth day of May, in the year of our 
 Lord, 1593. The trees of the crannog were now 
 green, and the orchard bright with apple blossom, 
 white and red. Great smokes rolled from all the 
 chimneys of the crannog. There were many tents, 
 both on the island and on the shores of the lake. 
 Felim sent word of his arrival to the Earl. The Earl 
 would not see him that day, but he bade his people 
 treat Felim with all the consideration due to his rank, 
 for Felim was a great gentleman amongst the O'Neill 
 nation. Accordingly they pitched a tent for him in the 
 lawn, within the island, and Felim and his men lacked 
 nothing of food, drink or attendance, but had good 
 entertainment from the Earl. But neither on Saturday 
 could Felim have access to the Earl, with whom there 
 were divers great lords then in conference, for it was 
 the eve of the great rebellion of the men of Ulster. 
 
THE VENGEANCE OF THE O HAGANS. 59 
 
 THE O'HAGANS COME TO CAMP. 
 
 That night, as it grew towards morning, Felim was 
 awake in his tent and he heard the sound of hoofs of 
 horses, and after that voices as of some commotion in 
 the camp. There were three tents pitched on the lawn 
 for Felim's people, close together for their greater 
 security. Donnell Ogue, Heber, and Calvach slept 
 with their dear lord Felim in the same tent. Felim 
 awoke Heber, who slept at his head, and Heber arose 
 and went forth out of the tent. It was already grey 
 morning and the birds were twittering in the trees of 
 the crannog. Presently he returned and said — " This 
 is a bad arrival, dear master. The brethren of the slain 
 man are here with a company of the Clan O'Hagan, 
 and they are pitching their tents around the bridge- 
 head." Felim and his men were not happy after that. 
 
 Next morning the Earl and the Lord Maguire at- 
 tended Mass at a very small church which was near 
 the lake, and Felim went with them in their company, 
 and the O'Hagans saluted him both in his going out 
 and his coming in, and they said that as he had the 
 Earl's pardon the feud was at an end. Felim after that 
 felt more confidence, and forgot the words of his wife. 
 In the afternoon the Earl and the Lord Maguire rode 
 together along the Banks of the Bann. This was that 
 lord who asked the Council to fix beforehand the eric 
 of the sheriff whom they were sending into Fermanagh. 
 After supper, in the evening, Felim stepped to the 
 
60 THE VENGEANCE OF THE o'HAGANS. 
 
 Earl and begged private conference, but the Earl 
 would not confer with him that night. The next 
 morning when the Earl gave audience in the great hall 
 of the crannog, a pursuivant from the Castle of Dublin 
 stepped before Felim and delivered a letter to the 
 Earl. Whom when the Earl saw he broke out there 
 stormfully before them all, saying in the Irish tongue, 
 " By the Son of God I would rather be dead than 
 looking at the like of you coming to me every day in 
 your short red coats ! " In those days the mind of the 
 Earl was exceeding wrathful against the Lord Deputy 
 on account of many wrongs and misdealings. 
 
 Though Felim afterwards had conference with the 
 Earl, he did not prosper with his suit. After that the 
 Earl and his beautiful young Countess, with one or two 
 gentlemen went down to the Bann side and entered a 
 boat. It was their purpose to row down the Bann and 
 to dine at a place about five miles from the crannog. 
 
 Felim and his men accompanied the Earl to the river 
 side and there went with him also the three O'Hagans, 
 namely, Owen, and Henry, and Hugh Ogue. These 
 brothers as they went conversed pleasantly with the 
 whole company, and especially with Felim. 
 
 When the boat was leaving the shore, Felim standing 
 hard by, cried aloud, " God be at one with thee till 
 night, my lord ! " 
 
 The Earl only answered, in a low voice " God be at 
 enmity with thee till the night ! " 
 
 Felim did not hear this. His face was very pale, for 
 
THE VENGEANCE OF THE O'HAGANS. 6 1 
 
 his mind misgave him when he heard no reply from 
 the Earl. 
 
 So the Earl and the Countess went down the river. 
 Felim stood quite still looking after them from the 
 shore. 
 
 Then the three brothers, Owen, Henry, and Hugh 
 Ogue, came to him with flattering speeches. 
 
 Felim forgot the words of his wife on that occasion, 
 for he was deceived by their flattering speeches and the 
 gay and frank faces of the threebrothers. He forgot all, 
 even though Donnell Ogue, standing close to him, pulled 
 him by the mantle secretly. So the whole party moved 
 to the camp, with their backs to the bright Bann, and 
 Owen O'Hagan went in front with Felim, by them- 
 selves, and as they went Owen put his left arm over 
 Felim's shoulder and around his neck, and their joined 
 shadows falling westward, were as one upon the green 
 grass, for it was forenoon, and the sun still in his 
 ascending. 
 
 The O'Hagans, as I have already mentioned, had 
 pitched their tents beside the bridge head of the cause- 
 way which led over the lake to the crannog. Amongst 
 the rest, hard by the gate of the bridge, they pitched 
 one tent, spacious, of fine leather curiously stained, 
 and they adorned it inside with great care. It was a 
 tent for the slain youth. They arranged it for him as 
 if he were there. They hung up their brother's hat 
 and plume, and his helmet, and battle-dress and all his 
 weapons of war, 
 
(2 THE VENGEANCE OF THE O HAGANS. 
 
 His favourite hound was in that tent, and his two 
 hawks sat there hooded upon their perch. Shane's 
 war-horse too was tethered near it, and his horses for 
 hunting ; and the tent was made ready in every respect 
 as if their dear brother Shane were alive and well. 
 
 As Felim and Owen drew nigh to the camp the Clan 
 O'Hagan stood at the doors of their tents. 
 
 Felim happened to say in the course of conversation 
 — " I have not slept well of late." 
 
 Owen replied, "Thou wilt get over that; thou wilt 
 sleep well soon." 
 
 They were in front of the vacant tent when he said 
 that. So saying he withdrew his arm from Felim's 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Dost thou see a man in the door of this tent ? " 
 he said. 
 
 " I see no man," said Felim. 
 
 " I do," said Owen. " I see a man there, in the prime 
 of his youth and beauty, but his face is pale and 
 bloody, and his yellow hair clotted with blood. (Have 
 patience dear brother ! ) I think thou seest him too ; 
 there, or somewhere ; O Felim ! son of Turlough, son 
 of Art." 
 
 " Stand back from me ! " cried Felim ; " there is 
 death in thy looks." 
 
 " And in my heart, too," cried the other, and ere a 
 man could see what was done there was a swift glitter- 
 ing, a flashing of steel in the bright sun and two 
 blended screams — one of vengeance and one for help 
 
THE VENGEANCE OF THE O'HAGANS. 6$ 
 
 — and the glittering ceased, for the sword that glit- 
 tered was through Felim. 
 
 Thereupon, Henry and Hugh Ogue ran up, and the 
 three slew Felim there before their brother's tent and 
 hewed him in pieces. 
 
 Felim's men ran from that slaughter, The rest fled 
 along the bank of the river, but Donnell Ogue ran 
 straight to the river pursued by the three brothers. He 
 sprang into it and swam, but it was not his fortune 
 that he should reach the further shore of the Bann, 
 for Hugh Ogue snatched a long slender spear from 
 one of the clansmen and poising, discharged it with 
 all his force at Donnell Ogue as he swam and struck 
 him between the shoulders. Donnell Ogue cried out 
 with a loud voice, and sank in the bright waters of the 
 Bann, drawing down the spear with him slowly till the 
 waters covered it. 
 
 At the gate of the crannog, at the time when Owen 
 turned upon Felim, there was a young man who was 
 leading forth an ass. The ass had laden panniers on 
 each side of him. The young man's name was Hugh 
 O'Gallagher, the same whom the Earl had ordered to 
 follow him with the provisions down the river. The 
 young man stood still horror-stricken while the 
 slaughter went forward, and it was a long time before 
 he embarked. When he came to the place where the 
 Earl and the Countess were, the Earl said — 
 
 " What delayed thee ? " 
 
 Hugh O'Gallagher did not answer. 
 
64 THE VENGEANCE OF THE O'HAGANS. 
 
 The Earl said again — " What delayed thee ? " 
 
 Hugh at last made answer — " Looking at a bad 
 deed." 
 
 "What was that ?" said the Earl. 
 
 "The killing of Felim, son of Turlough," answered 
 the other, " and he is killed, yea, and is Donnell Ogue 
 killed too — truly, both killed and drowned." 
 
 When the Countess Mabel, the fair and young daughter 
 of the High Marshal of all Ireland, heard that word, 
 she cried out and beat both hands together, after the 
 manner of women mourning for the dead. To whom 
 the Earl spake vehemently in the English tongue, but 
 inasmuch as he spake in the English tongue it is not 
 known what he said. Then he turned to Hugh 
 O'Gallagher and asked, " What happened my shot 
 (musketeers) that went over the river ? " 
 
SIR RICHARD BINGHAM. 
 
 .ROM time to time we either see the 
 name of Bingham mentioned in 
 the newspapers or meet persons 
 of that name. It is not, indeed, 
 a common name in Ireland, but 
 also it is not an uncommon. There are 
 Binghams in our peerage, there is a good 
 deal of Bingham blood mingled in our western 
 squirearchy, and Binghams are met with in every rank 
 of life. Of the founder of this Anglo-Irish race 
 I would supply the reader with a sketch as clear as 
 I can make it within a limited space. 
 
 Sir Richard Bingham was in the year 1584, just four 
 years before the Armada, appointed Governor of Con- 
 naught by Queen Elizabeth. He was already a dis- 
 tinguished soldier, but little anticipated the sort of war- 
 fare which awaited him in Connaught, or dreamt that 
 under that pressure the latent ferocity of his character 
 would so come out as to render it a doubtful question 
 whether he was a great warrior and administrator, or 
 a great historical ruffian. Sir Richard did not cross 
 
 E 
 
66 SIR RICHARD BINGHAM. 
 
 the Shannon alone. He was a clannish man, and 
 brought with him quite a brigade of Binghams. He 
 was a younger son, with many brothers and cousins. 
 There came with him John Bingham and Jacob 
 Bingham, and George the Greater and George the 
 Less, and divers others of the name. In fact, the 
 Western Irish gentry regarded him as the chief of a 
 new sept, and generally wrote of him as capita?ius suce 
 nationiSy or chief of his tribe. 
 
 At this time the people of Connaught were judged 
 and governed by their chieftains. Sir Richard 
 governed the chieftains, but the chieftains, like mediae- 
 val nobles, governed the people. About this time Sir 
 John Perrott induced the chieftains to surrender their 
 power and voluntarily to extinguish themselves as petty 
 kings. This they did under a celebrated instrument 
 of State called the " Composition of Connaught." 
 Whoever visits the Record Office in the Four Courts, 
 will see that Compositon deed with the signatures or 
 marks of all the western chiefs duly appended. Under 
 this instrument every chief surrendered his power and 
 his lands, which under tanistry he only held for life. 
 In return he got a fixed proportion of the tribe lands 
 in tail male, his principal vassals got their share fixed 
 too, with "judicial" rents payable to the chief. With 
 these rents and his fixed proportion of the tribal lands 
 the deposed chief had to content himself. Thereafter 
 he could not go about coshering amongst his vassals, 
 " cutting and spending," exacting coigne and livery, &c. 
 
SIR RICHARD BINGHAM. 6j 
 
 These " doltish old customs," as Sir Richard called 
 them, were abolished. In fact, it was a sort of agrarian 
 revolution not unlike that which has been witnessed in 
 our own times, with this difference, that it was then 
 the gentry — the landlords so to speak — who benefited 
 by the change. For example, all the considerable 
 gentlemen of the County of Mayo were then relieved 
 from the unlimited exactions of the Lord Burke, head 
 of the Burkes of Mayo. No change was made in the 
 position of the peasantry, but the gentry were made free 
 of the chieftains. They got their estates in tail, and 
 judicial fixed rents ; they were rooted in the soil, 
 and Sir Richard and the State looked to them to main- 
 tain the new order as a great conservative element 
 much in the same way as some of our statesmen to-day 
 look with similar hopes to our new peasant proprie- 
 tors. 
 
 It was, I say, a great social and agrarian revolution, 
 and Sir Richard won great kudos for the manner in 
 which it was carried out. Nor were his hopes frustra- 
 ted. The new proprietors to the utmost of their ability 
 sustained Sir Richard. In all his wars and in all his 
 devastations and outrages, Sir Richard had the bulk 
 of the Western gentry on his side. Speaking generally, 
 he had Connaught at his back in all his doings, good 
 and also bad. We read of high gentlemen lifting up 
 their voices and weeping aloud when* they learned 
 
 * See, for example, Calendar of State Papers, Ireland, Sep- 
 tember 27th, 1589. 
 
68 SIR RICHARD BINGHAM. 
 
 that they were at last free from the government of the 
 great chieftains. Those great chieftains were indeed 
 a wonderful race of men ; but if they were swifter 
 than eagles and stronger than lions, one must remem- 
 ber that lions and eagles are bound to have many foes. 
 Well, the ink was hardly dry upon the " Composi- 
 tion of Connaught," and on that of Thomond or Clare, 
 which settled separately, when the chieftains began to 
 repent — began to sigh for the old free quarters, for 
 their cosherings and free suppers, their armed retinues 
 and the gallows which stood beside their hall-doors, the 
 symbol of their power and pride. One of the Southern 
 chieftains rebelled. Sir Richard, with Connaught 
 behind him, went down to visit the recalcitrant, slew 
 him, hanged the garrison, broke down "the west wall 
 of his castle," Clanowen Castle, "from top to bottom, " 
 and returned victorious. "That exploit," say the 
 chroniclers, " exalted the fame and honour of Sir 
 Richard, for there was not on dry land a stronger 
 castle than that." ' But now the great lords in the north 
 of the province too began to kick against the Compo- 
 sition. Sir Richard marched against them and, still 
 sustained by public opinion and the forces of the 
 Province, " plagued " the insurgent lords terribly. The 
 word is a favourite one in his despatches, derived from 
 plaga^ a stroke. Indeed he was the plagosus Orbilius 
 of this wild school. The reader now must picture to 
 himself some fifteen years of the most desperate and 
 horrible warfare in which Sir Richard Bingham, ex- 
 
SIR RICHARD BINGHAM. 69 
 
 hibiting a preternatural activity and the highest fighting 
 qualities, and backed always by the bulk of the province, 
 almost ceaselessly battered upon the great lords, assert- 
 ing against them the Composition of Connaught. 
 As the horrible strife went on — for on their side too 
 the chieftains exhibited a determination as great as his 
 own — the innate ferocity of the man came more and 
 more to the surface. On one occasion he hanged 
 three little children of the best blood in Connaught as 
 forfeited pledges, though the Chief Justice of Con- 
 naught warned him that the hanging was illegal.- He 
 hanged O'Conor Roe, " who was nearly ioo years 
 old " — I quote here from the State papers. One of his 
 captains, out on a raid, called to a woman with a child 
 in her arms, "come kiss me, darling," or words to that 
 effect. When she drew nigh, trembling, he ran his 
 sword through the infant and the young mother's 
 breast. His name was John Gilson. The Govern- 
 ment ordered Gilson to prison. Bingham defied the 
 Government, released him, and put him on the 
 Council of Connaught. By the way this Gilson was 
 an Irishman — in fact nearly all Bingham's people were 
 Irish. At one place Bingham's men were slaughtering 
 women and children. Some women took to the sea 
 and tried to swim away \ his soldiers killed them with 
 stones. There was no punishment. But on the other 
 hand, if Bingham was a tiger he was also a lion — such 
 a warrior and such an administrator, so far as his power 
 extended, Connaught never saw before or since. He 
 
7o 
 
 SIR RICHARD BINGHAM. 
 
 had no fear either of God or man, and would drive 
 the Composition over Connaught though he had to 
 invoke the aid of the devil in doing so. 
 
 The reader must form his own conception of this 
 strange being. He left no posterity, at least none 
 legitimate. The noble families of that name descend 
 from his brothers and cousins. There alone in the 
 1 6th century driving forward the Composition of 
 Connaught stands this terrible figure begrimed with 
 powder smoke and stained with blood, innocent as well 
 as guilty. But the West of Ireland went with Bingham 
 in all that work, and that is a strange and significant 
 fact. Bingham led the majority in a civil war. Bingham 
 in one of his letters written when his career was about 
 closing says : — " I scarce ever had any aid save from 
 the Irishry of my province." Once the Government 
 sent him 200 English soldiers ; Bingham disarmed 
 them and gave their weapons to his Connaughtmen. 
 
THE OUTLAWED CHIEFTAIN. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 % ^^^^^^^^S' ^"^ of the most romantic incidents 
 :f^md^^%^^\{ m the history of Elizabethan 
 "^\R^^^^yi/Rr" Ireland is the well-known story 
 W^%^y^Mj °f ^e capture and captivity 
 U^^^^^S- * n -Dubhn and the escape 
 •cS^^r^ 8 '"^: thence of the famous warrior 
 Hugh Roe O'Donnell. The flight was effected 
 on Christmas Eve, 1591. After adventures and 
 sufferings which I have elsewhere described, he 
 was borne half dead with cold and hunger across 
 the Wicklow hills, then covered with deep snow, into 
 the wild gorge of Glenmalure to the protection of 
 a warlike chieftain, Feagh MacHugh O'Byrne, whose 
 principal stronghold was in that romantic glen. The 
 boy's feet were frost-bitten and lamed. He was 
 straightway put to bed, to use the phraseology of the 
 times, " laid upon a bed of healing," and carefully 
 nursed and tended by the old chieftain's best leeches. 
 So Christmas time passed for the much-wronged Hugh 
 Roe. Through the windows of his little hut he saw 
 the snow-clad mountains, caught the gleam of a passing 
 
72 THE OUTLAWED CHIEFTAIN. 
 
 morion or polished battleaxe head as the chieftain's 
 trusty sentinels paced to and fro. He heard the 
 curious sounds incident to the daily life of Feagh's 
 semi-barbarous mediaeval stronghold, and the mur- 
 murings of Avonbeg swollen with melting snow rush- 
 ing forward and downward to join the Avonmore. 
 As he grew stronger faces famous in Irish history came 
 and went about his couch, faces very kind and friendly 
 to him, though terrible enough to the then rulers of 
 Ireland. There came old Feagh the warrior and 
 spoiler, and his wife the Lady Rose O' Byrne, the 
 last reference to whom that I have discovered is an 
 Order in Council that she should be burnt in the 
 Castle Yard, presumably for high treason. There 
 came Feagh's sons, Turlough and Felim and Ray- 
 mond, all characters of historical dignity and interest ; 
 his son-in-law, the Brown Geraldine ; and, not to ex- 
 tend the list of Hugh Roe's kind Glenmalure friends, 
 Feagh's foster-son, Anthony O'More, chieftain desig- 
 nate, as I may say, of the Queen's County, which from 
 time immemorial had been O'More territory, though 
 now mainly occupied by grantees and Crown tenants. 
 His name Anthony was shortened and softened into 
 Owny; as Owny he figures in all contemporary docu- 
 ments, English and Irish. He was eldest son of a 
 celebrated warrior and chieftain of the Queen's County 
 named Rory Ogue O'More, and was at this time 
 about the same age as Hugh Roe, that is to say, about 
 nineteen. As every one was then known by a 
 
THE OUTLAWED CHIEFTAIN. 73 
 
 patronymic title, the boy's full style was Owny mac 
 Rory Ogue O'More. A short time before this the 
 Viceroy Fitzwilliam, whose eyes were fixed upon the 
 lad wrote concerning him to Burleigh — " Owny mac 
 Rory Ogue O'More hath lately taken weapon" (i.e. been 
 solemnly invested with arms and knighted.) " He is 
 a lad of a bold and stirring spirit. The O' Mores 
 look to him to be their captain." This boy became 
 very famous afterwards in the Tyrone wars. There is 
 a likeness of him in the first plate of the Pacata 
 Hibernia, which has been reproduced in Miss Lawless's 
 History of Ireland, in " The Story of the Nations" 
 series. This fine boy, as yet without a stain of blood 
 on his hands, was one of Hugh Roe's kind friends and 
 frequent visitors when he lay on his couch of healing 
 at Glenmalure. His father, Rory Ogue, is the chief 
 character in the story which I am about to relate. 
 
 A few miles from Glenmalure, at Newcastle, there 
 was settled these years an English gentleman of high 
 birth and considerable influence in the State. He 
 was Sir Harry Harrington, nephew of Sir Henry 
 Sidney, and therefore first cousin of Sir Philip. Sir 
 Harry Harrington of Newcastle, and old Feagh of 
 Glenmalure were good friends and neighbours. They 
 were quite intimate and neighbourly — a curious and 
 significant fact, for Sir Harry was a member of the 
 Council, and Feagh was in fact anything but a pillar 
 of the State. Whoever observed Sir Harry closely 
 would have seen that he lacked the little finger of the 
 
74 TH E OUTLAWED CHIEFTAIN. 
 
 right hand, and whoever saw him stripped saw a body 
 cut and scarred like a carbonado, Who did all this 
 cutting and carving upon the body of Sir Harry 
 Harrington of Newcastle? It was Rory Ogue 
 O'More, father of Owny, Hugh Roe's new friend, and 
 it is the story of that cutting and carving which I am 
 about to relate. Rory Ogue and Sir Harry are the 
 chief dramatis persona of the story, the incidents of 
 which I have collected from the Sidney State Papers, 
 the Calendar of State Papers (Ireland}, the notes of 
 Sir John Harrington's translation of Ariosto, the Four 
 Masters, Derrick's " Image of Ireland," and Philip 
 O'Sullivan's Historia Hibeniicz. In telling the story 
 I assume the classical privilege of occasionally putting 
 speeches into the mouths of the chief characters — 
 speeches such as under the circumstances they were 
 likely to have delivered. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 RORY OGUE O'MORE. 
 
 In the year 1575 Sir Henry Sidney, "Big Henry of 
 the Beer," as the Four Masters affectionately style 
 him, came for the last time into Ireland as Chief 
 Governor of the realm. Along with him came his 
 nephew, Harry Harrington, the history of whose 
 severe woundings and bodily harms I desire to tell. 
 
THE OUTLAWED CHIEFTAIN. 75 
 
 Young Harrington was by Sir Henry appointed to 
 the most dangerous and stirring service at the time 
 to be found in Ireland — viz., that of the Queen's 
 County, the ancient kingdom or principality of Leix. 
 There the nation of the O' Mores were in fierce re- 
 bellion under their captain, Rory Ogue O'More, and 
 young Harrington was bound to see there a great deal 
 of warlike work of a peculiar and Irish variety. The 
 land question in Leix was in course of solution 
 according to 1 6th century methods. It was, indeed, 
 a most burning question, literally so ; it had reduced 
 to cinders not only Leix but a considerable propor- 
 tion of the adjoining counties of Carlow, Meath, 
 Dublin, the King's County, Kildare and Kilkenny. 
 Rory Ogue, in assertion of alleged ancestral rights 
 there, which were denied by the Government, had 
 wasted and burnt far and wide, burnt the open 
 country and a great many walled towns, till the name 
 of Rory was a terror in the land, and women silenced 
 crying children with Rory's dreadful name. Rory 
 turns up throughout the State Papers in as many forms 
 as that old sea-god with whom Ulysses grappled 
 in the midst of his seals. Now he was an army 
 with banners and bag-pipes, cavalry and infantry, 
 now a swift troop of plunderers destroying and 
 fleeing, fleeing and destroying ; his course, trace- 
 able in the night by lines of burning houses, in 
 the day by pillars of smoke and the wailing of 
 women. We find him a buttress of the State leaning 
 
J 6 THE OUTLAWED CHIEFTAIN. 
 
 on and leant on by the Government. We find him the 
 turbulent lord besieging the castles of his neighbours, 
 annexing the lands of his neighbours, while the 
 weak Government, affecting slumber, looked out 
 as it were with one eye half unclosed, on the laisser 
 faire principle. For our chieftainry, like the English 
 baronage, asserted the right of private war, and the 
 Government acquiesced. Thus we find in the annals for 
 tins reign, the following curious entry — " Ulick, son of 
 Richard Sassenagh, Earl of Clanricarde, and his brother 
 Shane of the Clover, were at war with each other this 
 year, but they were both at peace with the Government.' 
 Anon, Rory, sheathing his sword, rides to Dublin, to 
 Court, as a great lord with his lifeguard and feudal 
 retinue, creating a flutter in viceregal circles as well 
 by his lofty bearing and his size, for he was a giant 
 in stature, as by the fame of his exploits. Anon, he is 
 on the war-path again, and this time against the State. 
 Sometimes Rory was not heard of for weeks or months. 
 Men hoped that he was dead or fled. The wasted 
 lands revived, burnt towns and villages were timidly re- 
 built, flocks and herds began to graze again in Leix. 
 Here and there a timorous husbandman drove a scant 
 furrow, praying God and His saints to keep Rory Ogue 
 away. Men spoke of Rory as a thing of the past, and 
 recounted dreadful tales as of ancient days. Suddenly, 
 without premonitory symptoms, the chieftain again, in 
 all his terrors and horrors, burst upon the half-settled 
 country. He had been under leeches on " a bed of 
 
THE OUTLAWED CHIEFTAIN*. 77 
 
 healing," had been in the south secretly with the Graces 
 and Butlers, or on the other side of the Shannon with 
 Shane of the Clover, a congenial spirit, refitting his 
 shattered fortunes, collecting means for the renewal 
 of the trnceless war. Sometimes he was a prince, 
 sometimes a Robin Hood. Xow he was the hospitable 
 feudal lord, dispensing a flowing hospitality to English 
 and Irish alike, and anon the terror of the land, 
 slaughtering and burning English and Irish without 
 distinction, or a fugitive and an outlaw drinking water 
 out of his shoe, and with a long stick toasting steaks 
 cut from the loins of a stolen ox. Yet, the wife of this 
 thief was first cousin to the Earl of Ormond, who, with 
 the Earls of Leicester and Essex, kept the barriers in 
 jousts before the Queen. Rory Ogue was in fact one 
 of the first gentlemen of Ireland. Such was life then. 
 Nor was there anything very peculiar in his career ; it 
 was only Irish and Elizabethan and quite en 
 Given a certain combination of circumstances, let Court 
 breezes sit but for a while in a certain quarter, and the 
 Earl of Ormond himself, playfellow of Edward VI., 
 patron of Spenser, one of the greatest nobles of the 
 Empire, would lead just such a life ; to-day a pillar of 
 the State, to-morrow a plunderer, passing through the 
 land like a plague, his eve not sparing children; anon, 
 a fugitive stealing one cow, and on a long stick broiling 
 steaks cut from her side, just like Rory. A great 
 western chief once led such a life, yet he married the 
 widow of Sir Philip Sidney, who was also widow o* 
 
; ; OUTLAWED CHIEF7. 
 
 Robert Earl of Esse::. Ron' must not be all mistaken 
 for a rapparee. He was, as I have said, one of the 
 
 :.: gentlemen of the realm. Great lords filed petitions 
 oi right against the Crown so, and not unfrequently, 
 by sticking manfully to their work, carried off all the 
 honours and profits of the controversy. r. :y Ogue's 
 
 :era ally, Shane of the Clover, and Shane's brother, 
 Ulick. Earl of Clanricarde, wrung their own terms from 
 the Government by downright war and rebellion; and 
 the Earl of Ormond, too, in a manner and by deputy, 
 played the same high game and won. 
 
 Who had the right in this controversy of Rory Ogue 
 O More : Regina? Frankly, I cannot tell It 
 
 would require a volume adequately to set out the mere 
 : rfthe xmtroversyj and the : r^uings pro and con, 
 would fill another. Rory, a: least, was perfectly certain 
 that he was in the right. It was not for a claim in 
 which he only half believed that the C^More, lord of 
 many castles and rent-producing lands, converted 
 himself into a demon of the pit. breathing flame and 
 suffering himself as much pain as he inflicted. But he 
 was C liore, had rights inherited from afar, nigh 2,000 
 years old. These he would uphold against all men, 
 and rather be rolled into his grave than surrender. 
 
 There is really something almost sublime in the 
 manner in w: E liz abet hanldrds grappled with 
 
 injurious governments, in the desperate resolution 
 
 th which they on their side stripped for the duel, 
 ready to endure all things and inflict all things. Such 
 
THE OUTLAWED CHIEFTAIN. 79 
 
 a stript chieftain, his own land first wasted and his own 
 castles first broken, almost audibly addressed the ruling 
 powers thus ; — "Here, O injurious Viceroy, I stand 
 and defy you. Death has no terrors for me, nor has 
 cold or famine, nor the slaughter of my people, nor 
 wakeful nights and laborious days. I defy you, Lord 
 Deputy, and Hell at your back \ and put me to the 
 proof now, and you will find Hell going out of me." 
 
 We have seen landlords in our time rolled out of 
 their estates much more ignobly. But these rebel 
 lords of the Elizabethan age were a tough and stub- 
 born breed. I sometimes feel as if such men as Rory 
 Ogue had gathered into themselves the very strength 
 of the elements, according to that strange Pagan in- 
 cantation which figures as one verse in St. Patrick's 
 Hymn — 
 
 " I bind to myself to-day 
 The swiftness of the wind, 
 The power of the sea, 
 The hardness of rocks, 
 The endurance of the earth," &c, &c. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 SIR HENRY SIDNEY ON THE SITUATION. 
 
 Such was the enemy with whom young Harry 
 Harrington was called upon by his uncle to contend. 
 11 It is the gap of danger, dear Harry," — Sir Henry 
 said as he gave the lad his last instructions, — " the 
 
8o THE OUTLAWED CHIEFTAIN. 
 
 gap of danger and a forlorn hope. Our sweet Saviour 
 shield thee, my dear nephew, from the bullets and 
 battle-axes of that bloody villain. Leix is the un- 
 barred door of the fortress and the ingate of the Pale. 
 If Rory drives us thence, all our many enemies in 
 those regions have a free inroad into the heart of the 
 settled country. The O'Conors of Ifaily, the O'Car- 
 rollsof Ely, the Foxes, M'Geoghegans, and Tyrrells of 
 Westmeath, will confederate themselves under him as 
 captain, and the O'Byrnes and O'Tooles on this side, 
 joining hands with him, will raise again the discontented 
 Geraldines of Kildare, for the Earl is not too well 
 affected to the State, and he is led at will by his 
 kinsmen. If Rory wins, the traitor Ormond will be 
 at his old work again, playing Royalist at Court, while 
 his bloody brethren and all his nation prey and burn 
 the loyal subject. Don't trust a Butler, Harry, not 
 the length of the lane. If Rory wins, Ormond wins, 
 and the House of Sidney is disgraced and overthrown. 
 But he will not win. I have sworn never again to 
 make peace with him save on my own terms. He 
 came to me in Kilkenny, and knelt before me in the 
 Cathedral Church. He had a full advantage of my 
 then distress and perplexities, harassed as I was by 
 Ormond and his brute ally the Ox.* Such slaughterings 
 and burnings as Rory ? s I thought that I never should 
 forgive, but I was enforced, and now he is out again, 
 
 * A private nickname of Sidney's for the Earl of Thomond. 
 
THE OUTLAWED CHIEFTAIN. 8 I 
 
 and has overthrown the shire, and makes prey on the 
 good subject over all the Midlands. There are a 
 thousand pounds on his head by proclamation. That 
 ought to serve well. Trust not the Englishmen over 
 much. Even here, around Dublin, I know too well 
 the false hearts of the Palesmen, and the new comers 
 are hardly a whit more reliable. Don't trust them 
 over much, for by marriage or concubinage, or by 
 interest and secret treaties, they are often closely allied 
 with the rebels. Neither too much distrust the Irish. 
 Amongst the worst of those rebel natives the Queen 
 has staunch friends. No man in Ireland has been 
 friendlier to myself, or more serviceable to the State, 
 than Turlough Lynagh, The O'Neill, or a deadlier 
 enemy to myself and to the State than Ormond. At 
 the worst, dear Harry, warring in Leix and on Rory 
 Ogue thou wilt learn what Irish war is like. An thou 
 canst capture or kill that bloody villain Rory, or 
 induce or compel him to accept decent terms, thy 
 reputation is secured. For myself, why, Sidney will 
 then unbuckle his harness with right goodwill and lay 
 down his offices. Then for my gardens and my books, 
 and a peaceful mug of homebrewed ale. Try this, 
 Harry, good ' Saxon ale of bitterness,' lad, not the 
 sweet stuff that these islanders delight in. My Irish 
 friends, as thou knowest, have pleasantly nicknamed 
 me Henri Mor na Beora, that is to say, 'Big Henry of 
 the Beer.' Well they may ; I love the liquor, and 
 have made it serve me too. With beer I conquered 
 
82 THE OUTLAWED CHIEFTAIN. 
 
 the Butlers, and clipped the wings of high-flying 
 Black Tom. Drink from the met her. Nay, lad, the 
 corner, the corner ! I shan't put on my sister's son, 
 and a boy, the jest I played on some fine gentlemen at 
 court. Be governed by circumstances, Harry, as they 
 arise. Thy associate in the government will be one 
 who assuredly ought to understand his business, 
 Alexander Cosby, son of Francis. How his father 
 found the time to beget him passeth comprehension. 
 If the stout captain Francis put but a tithe of himself 
 into the lad he will do well, though I profess such 
 butcherly soldiers art not much to my liking," &c, &c. 
 Sidney (Big Harry of the Beer), though not free 
 from the criminality which characterised statesmen of 
 that wicked age was, on the whole, a high-minded, 
 generous and loyal sort of man, handsome, of a fine 
 presence, huge and bulky in stature, merry and witty, 
 and extremely courteous, a worthy father of that 
 paragon of chivalry, Sir Philip. The story of how he 
 conquered the Butlers with beer is amusing. When 
 he invaded Tipperary, the Butlers' country, his army 
 fell into a panic. They felt like boys entering a den 
 full of "unpastured dragons." Sidney gathered them 
 together, speeched them, and set a great many barrels 
 of beer flowing. Under the mingled effect of oratory 
 and strong ale the army plucked up its heart. The 
 soldiers declared they would kill him if he did not 
 lead them against the Butlers, and that night nothing 
 was heard in camp but the singing of war-songs, 
 
THE OUTLAWED CHIEFTAIN. S$ 
 
 whistling of war-tunes, sharpening of swords, and im- 
 precations on the whole breed, seed, and generation 
 of the Butlers. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 YOUNG HARRY HARRINGTON GOES 
 NORTH TO WAR. 
 
 So young Harrington, with troops provided by his 
 uncle, full of young confidence and vainglory, went 
 down to that burned and blasted country, associated 
 himself with Alexander Cosby, and marched to and 
 fro defending the country against Rory, who was at the 
 time unable to make head against his enemies in the 
 open field. For a while the Viceroy received good 
 tidings. One day, however, came a pale messenger 
 out of Leix and stood before Sir Henry. Such a face 
 pulled Priam's curtains. "Your Honour, I bring 
 bad news from Leix. Alexander Cosby and Harry 
 Harrington are prisoners with Rory Ogue. He took 
 them at a parley, and where they are now no one 
 knows." 
 
 Here was an untoward revolution of fortune's wheel. 
 Rory Ogue had now a hostage worth the pecuniary 
 value of the whole of the blasted and burned ter- 
 ritory, and was determined to utilize his advantage 
 to the uttermost. On the heels of that doleful 
 messenger came another, Rory's ambassador or 
 
84 THE OUTLAWED CHIEFTAIN. 
 
 pursuivant, stating the terms on which the 
 outlawed chief would submit to the Government. 
 But Sir Henry, though ready to pay every penny 
 he could spare to save the life of his sister's 
 son, would not as the Queen's Deputy consent 
 to Rory's high territorial demands. He felt that con- 
 cession here would be a blow to his honour and a 
 serious injury to the prestige of the State. Rory 
 permitted him to open communications with the 
 prisoner, and young Harrington wrote to the Viceroy 
 saying, " I will die rather than give my consent to 
 those conditions. Never mind my worthless life." 
 
 I have always thought that Ireland is the richer for 
 every brave and generous act performed by any 
 one upon her soil, whether stranger or native. Sir 
 Henry's loyalty to the State on this occasion and his 
 nephew's submission to his fate, are quite in the early 
 Roman style. Those noble historians, the Irish Four 
 Masters would have been quick enough to recognise, 
 and that generously, the behaviour of these brave 
 Englishmen. 
 
 In short, though Rory had his hostages he could 
 make nothing out of them. Harrington was ready 
 to die, and Sir Henry willing that he should die rather 
 than see The O'More triumph at the expense of the 
 State. Rory hesitated and pondered, and while he 
 pondered the wheel of fortune took another turn 
 disastrous to Rory. Rory keeping a firm grip on his 
 valuable pair of hostages, lay for the time perdu. He 
 
THE OUTLAWED CHIEFTAIN. 85 
 
 had dismissed the bulk of his forces with orders to hold 
 themselves in readiness at call. Of these hostages, the 
 second, Alexander Cosby, was son to one of the 
 remarkable men of the age, When the Queen's 
 County was confiscated and made shire land by Philip 
 and Mary, Francis Cosby, one of the bravest, and 
 also one of the bloodiest and most ferocions men of 
 his time, was appointed captain of the shire. Whether 
 a hero or a ruffian, or, as is most probable, a mixture 
 of both, he was certainly not a man to be despised, and 
 fought his hot corner as well as any hot corner was ever 
 fought before or since. Concerning him I excerpt the 
 following anecdote from the pages of an old historian. 
 From my knowledge of the condition of society pre- 
 vailing then in Leix I have little doubt that the story 
 is substantially true. 
 
 11 Francis Cosby usually resided at Stradbally. Before 
 his hall-door there grew a tree of great size with many 
 wide-extending boughs. Upon this tree he used to 
 hang not only men but women, and also male chil- 
 dren. When women hanging from ropes dangled out 
 of the tree, and when their babes hung beside them, 
 throttled in tresses of their mother's hair, he used to 
 experience an incredible satisfaction. On the other 
 hand, when the tree had no suspended bodies, he used 
 to address it in this wise : ' O, my tree, you seem to 
 be affected by a great sorrow. No wonder, you are so 
 long bare. But O tree I shall soon abate your grief; 
 soon with bodies I shall adorn your boughs.' }) 
 
&6 THE OUTLAWED CHIEFTAIN. 
 
 But there were barbarous reprisals upon Cosby's 
 people too ; of that we may be sure. 
 
 Attended by the most valiant and faithful of his men — 
 Rory retired with Harrington and Cosby into the most 
 secret of his fastnesses. It was in the depth of a forest 
 somewhere on the borders of the County of Carlow. I 
 don't find anywhere in Elizabethan Ireland that 
 thorough loyalty of the clan to the chief which Sir 
 Walter Scott so celebrates in his pictures of Highland 
 society. In all the Irish clans there was a party in 
 secret or open opposition to the elected chief, and the 
 Queen had allies in every territory into which she sent 
 her captains. On the other hand the faithfulness of the 
 chieftain's personal retinue, of the men who lived at his 
 board and had the charge of his person, was above 
 reproach. Their honour was inviolate, and forms one 
 of the most beautiful features of that strange period. 
 Here in his forestine retreat The O'More kept watch 
 over his hostages pending the issue. Along with him 
 was his brother, a priest. Rory was a devout man in 
 his own >vay. In feudal hall or under the greenwood 
 tree this faithful brother said mass for Rory and 
 shrived him. There was also with Rory a certain 
 Cormac O'Conor, a gentleman who had been edu- 
 cated at the Court of England, but who, his claims on 
 the adjoining King's County having been denied by 
 the Government, had joined his fortunes with those of 
 The O'More. Another unexpected sharer of the 
 plunderer's wild existence was his wife. Rory, by way 
 
THE OUTLAWED CHIEFTAIN. 87 
 
 of clearing the decks for action, had first disposed of 
 his children. They were intrusted to the secret 
 keeping of friends beyond the limits of the war-theatre. 
 A famous De Burgo chief at the other side of the 
 Shannon, sheltered some of them. But Rory's faithful 
 wife would not leave him. The Lady Margaret would 
 taste the bitter with her lord as she had tasted the 
 sweet. When Rory "went out" his wife went out 
 with him, rode by him in his campaigns and forays, 
 cowered low with him in the woods and mountains 
 when his star was obscured. Elizabethan Ireland 
 supplies many women of this heroic type. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 RORY CHASTISES HIS TRAPPER WITH 
 RESULTS. 
 
 Now in Rory's household there was a traitor. This 
 person was by profession a trapper — vcnator, saith the 
 historian — and in position, I suppose, a sort of slave. 
 When plundered beef was not forthcoming he helped 
 to stock the chieftain's larder with hares, rabbits, and 
 an occasional deer. Amongst these proud men of 
 war and gentlemen, he was a lonely and melancholy 
 wight, a butt when they were merry, a thing to breathe 
 themselves upon when enraged. He shared all the 
 danger and none of the reward or the glory. Any day 
 the branch of a Queen's County tree might bear his 
 
88 THE OUTLAWED CHIEFTAIN. 
 
 pendent body. Curious servile thoughts, much dumb 
 discontent passed through his gloomy spirit as he sat 
 watching his gins and toils waiting for the cry which 
 told that some poor creature of the forest had come to 
 grief. The glitter of gold, too, came and went in the 
 dark places of his mind. There was a sum of ^1,000 
 on the head of the man who ate his rabbits and per- 
 haps never said " Thank you, Venator.' 1 Rory thought 
 as little of the trapper as of his foot-leather — service- 
 able stuff, his own. No one gave the sorry wight a 
 thought or deemed that any danger could arise from 
 such a slave. One day the trapper offended the chief- 
 tain ; he was seen conversing with suspicious persons, 
 or had been idle in his venatorial office or insolent to 
 his superiors, or had committed some other breach of 
 law or etiquette in the little company gathered there 
 under the greenwood tree. The chief prescribed a flog- 
 ging for the trapper, and thought no more of the 
 matter. With aching sides and shoulders the servile 
 man returned to his gins and toils, but there was a 
 dangerous fire kindled in his breast. His name we 
 don't know. Whenever our historians meet with a 
 plebeian they withhold the name. Why should such 
 fellows* have a name at all ? Nevertheless even in 
 feudal Ireland they helped to make history. 
 
THE OUTLAWED CHIEFTAIN. 89 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 CAPTAIN HARPOL AND THE TRAPPER. 
 
 Captain Harpol, commanding a detachment of the 
 Royal army, lay in garrison in the Castle of Carlow, 
 his thoughts much occupied with Rory Ogue. Indeed, 
 it was hard for him to forget Rory, for Rory's mark was 
 distinguishable wherever the Captain's eyes might turn. 
 All around the castle were blackened ruins of houses, 
 for Carlow, in spite of its castle and its strong walls, 
 had been sacked and burnt by the terrible omnipresent 
 Rory. Black gaunt ruins showed dolefully through 
 the trees over the plains, the remains of country gentle- 
 men's seats, of farmsteads and huts, destroyed by the 
 same hand. Rory had left a dreadful mark upon 
 five or six Irish counties. All the land around Carlow 
 was waste and empty. The curse of Rory lay heavy 
 along the shores of the Barrow. The peasantry had 
 fled. Even Harpol's cattle fed only under the eye of 
 Harpol's soldiers. Armed men watched them as they 
 grazed, and at night drove them within the bawn of 
 the castle, and locked and barred the gates. No one 
 knew when or where Rory might next break out. From 
 the Shannon to the Liffey all the midlands were a 
 theatre for the vengeance of O'More. The fear of the 
 great spoiler was over all the land. 
 
 Rory may have been thinking of Harpol this day, for, 
 indeed, he was not far distant. Harpol most assuredly 
 was thinkingof Rory, and not pleasantly. Robert Harpol 
 had an estate in Leix long since reduced to ashes and 
 
90 THE OUTLAWED CHIEFTAIN. 
 
 wilderness by the enraged chieftain ; the charred ruins 
 of Carlow lay under his eyes, perhaps the smoke of 
 them in his nostrils. Yet Robert Harpol was a stout 
 and brave man, as, indeed, were most of the Queen's 
 captains at this time. If the chieftains were brave, 
 the captains were equally brave. A soldier interrupted 
 the meditations of Captain Harpol. " Your honour, 
 there is a countryman below who hath tidings for your 
 private ear — of great moment — of Rory Ogue." 
 
 In a moment the Constable was all alive. 
 
 11 Yes, I will see him." 
 
 Enter now a rustical, shock-headed wight, indeed a 
 very salvage man, with bright, small eyes peering 
 through his matted glibb, and carrying nets upon his 
 arm — in short, our friend the trapper, his loins and 
 back still sore from Rory's punitory thong. The 
 trapper's countenance, I fancy, was not comely at the 
 best, nor could it have been improved by the passions 
 which drove him thither — viz., revenge and the auri 
 sacra fames. Yet to Harpol it was a face full of inte- 
 rest. Having louted low and glanced around him 
 suspiciously, the salvage man drew nigh to the Captain, 
 and unloaded himself of his secret, confidentially and 
 familiarly, but in a fierce whisper, " Rory Ogue, with 
 
 only thirty swords, is in the forest of , Harrington 
 
 and Cosby with him. I know the place, your honour, 
 and will bring you there and the sodgers — for a trifle." 
 The delighted Constable did not haggle with the fellow 
 about terms. 
 
THE OUTLAWED CHIEFTAIN. 9 1 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 CAPTAIN HARPOL'S MIDNIGHT SWOOP. 
 
 As the shades of evening fell two hundred soldiers 
 ranked themselves in the castle yard, silently without 
 bugle call or other noise of preparation. Glad was 
 the stout captain. This night's work, if successful, 
 would bring to him great renown and also ;£i,ooo in 
 gold minus the trapper's stipulated fee : and remember, 
 ^1,000 then was worth possibly ^15,000 now. 
 
 The night was wild, dark, and wet, intempesta nox, 
 writes one historian. No moon or star lit Harpol 
 upon his way, only the experienced mind of the 
 trapper, who, guarded by soldiers for fear of treachery, 
 plodded heavily forward in front of the column with 
 his nets on his arm. With these he would not part. 
 In his servile mind he had a purpose which will 
 presently be disclosed. Through the moaning forest, 
 under the tossing boughs, over soft and hard, in the 
 teeming darkness all followed the trapper. At last he 
 paused. The soldiers stood still, and Harpol stepped 
 up to the guide. It was Rory's camp or fastnesse and 
 consisted of a single good-sized house thatched with 
 sods and bracken or rushes. It showed dimly through 
 the night. All was wrapped in silence and slumber, 
 the inmates dreaming such dreams as visit outlaws and 
 plunderers. 
 
92 THE OUTLAWED CHIEFTAIN. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE TRAPPER'S HIGH OPINION OF THE 
 VALUE OF TRAPS. 
 
 "This is the place," whispered the trapper. "See 
 the house, Captain. Well, there he is. Rory is there, 
 himself and his wife, and Cormac O'Conor, and the 
 priest ; and there in handlocks he has Harrington and 
 Cosby. But whisper again," murmured the glibbed 
 one. Harpol inclined helmet and martial ear. " Cap- 
 tain, you'll never kill him or take him less than I help 
 you. Sure we all know Rory Ogue. He'll bang ye all 
 hither and over around the door with his sword, and 
 then he'll run this way down the bohareen into the 
 wood. Captain, do you see this net ? " It was dark, 
 but probably the Captain did notice the tenacity with 
 which the fellow stuck to his toils. " Well, Captain, 
 I'll just spread the net here between the trees in the 
 bohareen, and by the hand of O'More, but I'll hould 
 him, nately, the same as I would a shtag." Even in 
 the excitement of the moment Harpol and his friends 
 could not forbear laughing: (" cachinnos fecerunt") 
 under their breaths surely, at the venator's undisguised 
 poor opinion of their prowess, and his confidence in 
 his own art of venerie. Bidding the trapper, in some 
 unrecorded Elizabethan phrase, "go to the deuce for a 
 fool," Harpol prepared for the attack. 
 
THE OUTLAWED CHIEFTAIN. 93 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 RORY OGUE EXHIBITS TERRIBLE SWORD 
 PLAY. 
 
 From the house two ways led into the forest. Both 
 these Harpol beset, and with the rest of his men 
 approached the house, marched up to the door, and 
 bade his men break in. At the noise of the axes 
 crashing through the door Rory awoke — all awoke. 
 What an awakening ! Seizing his sword, Rory sprang 
 first at his captives where they lay, Harry Harrington 
 and Alexander Cosby, and slashed at them four or five 
 times in the dark. Calling loudly to his men, and 
 bidding his wife and brother keep close behind him, 
 Rory opened the door, and stepped out in the midst 
 of his enemies, making terrible sword play as he went. 
 The bright steel flashed this way and that, showering 
 sparks into the night from the stricken armour of those 
 who barred his path. The very sound of his voice, 
 shouting the O'More war-cry, had terror in it. Men 
 believed that Rory Ogue was superhuman, and even Sir 
 John Harrington, the accomplished courtier and 
 author, tells us he was an enchanter and wrought 
 spells. Moreover, he was of great stature, and his 
 slashings and cuttings must have been hard to endure. 
 Stout Captain Harpol came to the aid of his men the 
 more readily inasmuch as Rory was in his shirt, and he 
 himself in complete steel, but soon reeled back from a 
 tremendous blow which stunned, but did not kill him, 
 
94 THE OUTLAWEt) CHIEFTAIN. 
 
 for it alit upon his helmet. Slashing to right and left, 
 hinc et inde verberans — one wishes that the trapper had 
 caught one of them — Rory broke through the ranks of 
 armed men, ran down the lane, and escaped into the 
 forest. Had Harpol but taken the servile man's advice, 
 and allowed him to spread his net in that bohareen, he 
 would have netted not only the great spoiler, but^i,ooo 
 of good money, minus the trapper's fee, that night. 
 
 lt Rory Ogue crept between our legs like a serpent," 
 said Harpol's men afterwards in explanation of their 
 poltroonery. c< He sprang over our heads like a deer.' 
 " He practised magic against us and made our weapons 
 softer than butter.'' What is certain is that The O'More 
 through his strength and valour and sudden upbursting 
 of Celtic battle-fury broke through Captain Harpol's 
 company of well armed men. Around Rory the ranks 
 opened or were burst asunder by his sword-play, but 
 closed again like stormy waters behind him. His heroic 
 wife, the Lady Margaret O'More, was slain at his heels. 
 So was his faithful brother. All the rest seeking to follow 
 in the wake of the terrible Rory, were slain or driven 
 back into the house. Harpol's men poured in pell-mell 
 after them, and within there in the darkness a murder 
 grim and great was committed, Harpol's men even 
 killing each other in the wild melee. 
 
 When the bloody work was over and ignited 
 torches shed a ghastly light upon the scene, the two 
 prisoners were disengaged from the dead bodies. 
 Alexander Cosby did not show a scratch ; poor Har- 
 
THE OUTLAWED CHIEFTAIN. * 95 
 
 rington was a bleeding mass of cuts and wounds. 
 Four or five of these were the work of Rory, the rest 
 were given by Rory's men, and by Harpol's in the 
 fierce melee in the dark. How happened it that Alex- 
 ander Cosby had no wound, while young Harrington 
 had fourteen ? " An accident," said Cosby, " As I 
 am a gentleman, a sheer accident." Nevertheless it 
 turned out to be a bad accident for Cosby. Soon 
 some ill-natured person suggested that he had sheltered 
 himself under young Harrington's body, using it as a 
 shield, which he could easily do if the first blow or two 
 had made Harrington insensible. Whether this story 
 was seriously believed or not, it ran round the island 
 as a good military jest if nothing else, and Alexander 
 Cosby never got the better of it. We can see him 
 drop out of the saga without regret. The only other 
 fact I remember about Alexander Cosby is that he 
 had a wife named Dorcas. 
 
 Poor Harrington was conveyed away desperately 
 wounded. He had fourteen wounds in all, as counted 
 by his cousin, Sir John Harrington. His head was 
 laid open. Sir Henry Sidney tells us that he could 
 see his nephew's brain move. But all the fourteen 
 wounds were found medicable save one. He lost 
 for ever the little finger of his right hand. 
 
 Harrington lived for many years afterwards in the 
 castle called New Castle, County Wicklow. Dublin 
 cyclers are perpetually riding past the ruins of his 
 castle, and past the little broken church hard by where 
 
96 THE OUTLAWED CHIEFTAIN. 
 
 he worshipped. Sir Philip Sidney was once here too, 
 and prayed in the same little church. Our cyclers 
 as they flit past might, with advantage, remember these 
 things. Sir Harry Harrington was appointed Captain 
 of Wick low, and exercised a sort of command there 
 over the O'Byrnes and O'Tooles. He and old Feagh 
 Mac Hugh became good friends, but kept their 
 friendship a secret. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 In Sir Henry's household was a gentleman of a 
 literary turn of mind called Derrick. He wrote a book, 
 of which Sir Henry is the hero and Rory Ogue the 
 villain, and adorned it with numerous plates, in most 
 of which Rory Ogue is the central figure. It is called 
 "The Image of Ireland/' and is a very curious and 
 interesting monument of the times. 
 
 It was imagined that Rory could never lift up his 
 head again after this business. Derrick was delighted. 
 He had a plate made for his " Image in Ireland," in 
 which the great Rory, " whose thoughts did match the 
 rolling sky," is represented utterly alone wandering 
 through the forest. Behind him wolves are prowling 
 around, expecting soon to sate their hunger on the 
 flesh of the great spoiler. The book contains one 
 long poem which is put into Rory's mouth, while in 
 this woful situation, " uttering the same most lament- 
 
THE OUTLAWED CHIEFTAIN. 97 
 
 ably with brynishe salte tears, wolfishe tears." It 
 
 begins — 
 
 u I Rori Ogge inhabitant of Leiske " 
 and is not such doggrel as one might expect Such 
 is Derrick's Rory Ogue. But such was not by any 
 means the Rory of history. Even after this blow we 
 find him in the field once more, with hundreds of 
 warriors, foot and horse, and fighting pitched battles 
 with his Irish and English enemies. 
 
 He was eventually slain in battle by the Chief of the 
 MacGilla-Patricks or Fitz-Pal ricks, June 30, 1578. 
 Sir Henry Sidney was not a little proud of this feat, 
 which was performed under his auspices. 
 
 Rory's death is thus commemorated in the Annals 
 — " Rory Ogue, son of Rory, son of Conall O'More, 
 fell by the hand of Brian Ogue, son of Brian MacGilla 
 Patrick, and that Rory was the chief spoiler and in- 
 surgent of the men of Ireland in his time, and no one 
 was disposed to fire a shot against the Crown for a 
 long time after that." 
 
 Rory's sons were scattered abroad over Ireland 
 under the care of friendly lords and chieftains. Feagh 
 MacHugh brought up the bravest of them, Owney. For 
 years Feagh held this brave youth like a war-hound in 
 the slips. Three years after Hugh Roe visited Glen ma- 
 lure, Feagh slipped him, and like a hound gallant 
 Owney flew straight upon his quarry. In short Rory's 
 son conquered back the Queen's County, and held it 
 for many years with a strong hand, and became more 
 powerful and famous even than his father. 
 
 G 
 
BRIAN OF-THE-RAMPARTS 
 O'ROURKE. 
 
 N Bingham's time the strongest chief in 
 the West of Ireland was the O'Rourke, 
 Brian na Murtha, Lord of Leitrim. This 
 chieftain was a tall and remarkably hand- 
 some man. His most distinguishing 
 characteristic was pride. All the Lord 
 Deputies and Presidents who had 
 anything to do with him remarked 
 upon this trait. "He was the proud- 
 est man with whom I had to do in my time," 
 wrote Sir Henry Sidney. " The proudest man 
 who walks upon the earth to-day," wrote Malby. 
 " The proud beggar — the insolent, drunken proud 
 beggar ! w wrote the fiercer and more abusive 
 Bingham. As to the charge of drunkenness, I 
 can only say this : I have myself seen in the 
 Record Office, at the Four Courts, this man's signa- 
 ture written when he was quite old, at the foot of a 
 certain State document, and I never saw more ex 
 
BRIAN OF-THE-RAMPARTS G ROURKE. 99 
 
 quisite caligraphy. The characters are small, regular, 
 and of most delicate formation. When Bingham came 
 into the Province, O'Rourke had been several times 
 in rebellion, and had always beaten the Government. 
 Perrott was Viceroy at this time, and O'Rourke at 
 once made his submission to Perrott. He recognised 
 the son of Henry VIII. as his lawful superior, and 
 shaped his course accordingly. Besides, he liked 
 Perrott and Perrott liked him. Perrott induced him 
 to join in the composition of Connaught and lay down 
 his O'Rourkeship with all its sovereign privileges and 
 powers. Then he legally ceased to be a chieftain 
 and became only a great landlord. He retained a 
 great deal of Leitrim in his own hands, and received 
 fixed rents from the proprietors of the remainder. 
 When his friend Perrott departed, O'Rourke was left 
 face to face with Bingham whom he disliked and 
 despised. During the Armada winter he received 
 and sheltered some Spanish sailors. The Govern- 
 ment demanded their surrender with the intention of 
 hanging them as they had hanged all the rest. 
 O'Rourke replied that it did not consist with his 
 honour as a gentleman or his dignity as a prince to 
 surrender men whom he had admitted to the rites of 
 hospitality. Bingham now, without notice, collected 
 his forces and fell upon him. Bingham thought to 
 surprise him in his castle on the shores of Lough Gill, 
 but as snow lay on the ground, Bingham's people 
 were seen, and in short this swoop on Bingham's 
 
I DO BRIAN OF-THE-RAMPARTS O'ROURKE. 
 
 part came to nothing. O'Rourke then went into re- 
 bellion, and as a preliminary desired his sheriff to 
 shift somewhere else for an office. His eldest son 
 was at the time a student at Oxford. O'Rourke sent 
 one of his gentlemen, Charles Trevor, thither secretly. 
 Young O'Rourke, afterwards celebrated as Brian 
 Ogue of the Battle-Axes, ran away from Oxford in 
 company with Trevor, and came home through Scot- 
 land and Ulster. He immediately took the field as 
 one of his father's chief lieutenants. In this rebel- 
 lion O'Rourke stirred up North Connaught, and 
 kindled a fierce flame of war. He sent for all the 
 wood-kerne and bad subjects and licensed them 
 to make prey within the borders of Bingham's Presi- 
 dency. In reply to a letter from Perrott he said he 
 would be under the government of no man in Ireland 
 save the Viceroy. The Government sent commis- 
 sioners to treat with him — Judges and Bishops. 
 O'Rourke received them quite en roL He 
 did not stir from his place to meet them or once 
 remove his cap from his head. He regarded him- 
 self as a sovereign prince owning no superiors on 
 earth save the Queen and her Deputy. Eventually, 
 Bingham having beaten the North Connaught in- 
 surgents, invaded Breffney or the Brenny, O'Rourke's 
 country, in three divisions, O'Rourke's own feudatories 
 revolted against him, and the constable of his forces 
 turned traitor and joined Bingham. O'Rourke now 
 went into the north to his ally the McSweeny, Red 
 
BRIAN OF-THE-RAMPARTS O ROURKE. 101 
 
 Hugh's foster father. Red Hugh himself was at this 
 time prisoner in Dublin Castle. M'Sweeny hardly 
 knowing how he was to deal with this extraordinary 
 proud and haughty being, in the end surrendered to 
 him his own chieftainship. O'Rourke would not be 
 chieftain without exercising a chiefs functions, and 
 actually hanged some of M'Sweeny's own kinsmen. 
 Eventually he w r ent to Scotland to seek aid from some 
 of the great Scotch nobles. He was there arrested by 
 James VI., who in pursuit of some tortuous State policy 
 sent him forward to London as a present to the Queen. 
 He was brought before the Council, Cecil, Walsingham 
 and the rest. The Council looked at their remarkable 
 captive so long known to them by report, now seen at 
 last in the flesh, and the captive looked at the Council, 
 so long well known to him, man by man. He stood 
 erect, not a joint bending in back or knee, with his hat 
 on, as when at Dromahaire he received the Commis- 
 sioners of the Viceroy, a captive but also a king. " Why 
 don't you kneel ? " asked one of the Council, when they 
 began to recover from the curious dramatic influence of 
 the nature of the situation. He spoke in Latin, a tongue 
 almost as familiar as Irish to the elder generation of the 
 Irish and Norman-Irish chiefs, " Cur genua non flectis ?" 
 " I am not so used. Non sum itafacere solitus." " Are 
 you not used to kneel before pictures ? Nonne es soli- 
 tus genua coram imaginibus flectere ? " 
 
 " Yes, of God's saints — between whom and you there 
 is much difference, multum distat" 
 
102 BRIAN OF-THE-RAMPARTS O ROURKE. 
 
 Dismissed by the Council, he was a second time 
 brought from the Tower to the Court of Queen's Bench 
 to be tried before a jury on the charge of high treason. 
 
 The indictment having been read and translated for 
 his benefit, for he did not understand English, Brian 
 refused to plead save on four conditions : — 
 
 (i.) The assistance of an advocate. 
 
 (2.) The affidavits forwarded out of Ireland to be 
 put in my hands. 
 
 (3.) The presence and examination in court of the 
 persons who swore the affidavits. 
 
 (4.) The Queen in person to preside as Judge at my 
 trial. 
 
 The fellow with a barbarous insolence, writes 
 Camden, refused to plead save on these conditions. 
 The first three every one will now agree to have been 
 mere justice. In the fourth we see the well-known 
 pride of the man, surely an honourable pride, self- 
 respect of an admirable and even heroic sort. To no 
 jury of the fat and greasy sort would he make his 
 defence, but to his liege Sovereign. All those Irish 
 princes in the midst of their most furious rebellions 
 never denied that the Queen was their sovereign. 
 They rebelled against her officers and presidents, such 
 as Bingham, who came with their intolerable wrong- 
 doings between them and their Queen. I am surprised 
 that the Queen did not pardon him. She understood 
 Ireland well enough to know that men might rebel 
 against her officers and yet entertain feelings of loyalty 
 
BRIAN OF-THE-RAMPARTS ROURKE. 103 
 
 and regard for herself. In O'Rourke's case her mind 
 seems to have been preoccupied by an outrageous 
 slander. It was charged against him that he had 
 dragged the Queen's picture at the heels of his war- 
 horse, and that he had stood by and approved while 
 his men thrust their battle-axes through it. Bingham, 
 mendacious as well as ferocious, sent this story to 
 London. Great attempts were made to get it proved, 
 but not the slightest evidence of any sort or description 
 in support of the charge could be discovered. The 
 nearest thing to evidence was the following : — An image 
 of the Virgin Mary was discovered in his country, and 
 an ultra-clever official deemed that this image might 
 have been assumed by the Chieftain to be the effigy of 
 the Queen and might have been treated in the manner 
 described. But he confesses, honest man, that there 
 were no marks of thrustings or slashings upon it. This 
 was the nearest thing to evidence. 
 
 The charge was of course a vile slander. No man of 
 O'Rourke's type, indeed no Irish gentleman of the 
 period, could have stooped to such low rascal insolence. 
 
 To O'Rourke's most reasonable demands the Chief 
 Justice replied that they could not be granted, adding 
 further that if he persisted in his refusal to plead, he 
 would be obliged to consider the charge of high 
 treason as proved, and proceed to pass sentence of 
 death. 
 
 "You will do as you please," replied the prince, 
 Fades ut tua est voluntas* 
 
104 BRIAN OF-THE-RAMPARTS O'ROURKE. 
 
 The Chief Justice sentenced him to death. He 
 was led from the court, and a few days afterwards 
 beheaded at Tyburn. Such was the end of Brian of- 
 the-Ramparts, the first cousin of Red Hugh. There 
 is surely something very refreshing in this proud re- 
 fusal of the O'Rourke to plead his cause before a hired 
 brehon and a parcel of money-grubbing London shop- 
 keepers. His own chief tenants charged with treason 
 were judged by himself, or a court of his chieftains 
 over which he presided. He would accept no lower 
 tribunal for himself, though his head should roll for it. 
 
 O'Rourke's last recorded speech was also highly 
 characteristic. At the time of his execution there was 
 a very vile Irish ecclesiastic in London, Miler Magrath, 
 Archbishop of Cashel, a most sordid and knavish 
 creature, an awful devourer of Church property — a per- 
 fect glutton in that way. In the next generation 
 Strafford compelled his sons and nephews to disgorge 
 a great deal of it. This ecclesiastical rascal, seeing a 
 fellow-countryman led to the scaffold, thought good to 
 join the procession, and administer religious consola- 
 tion, by the way, to the chieftain. O'Rourke looked 
 askance at Miler, and for the last time unclosed his 
 laconic lips. 
 
 "I think," said he, "thou art a Franciscan who 
 hast broken thy vows." 
 
 Such was the exit of Brian of-the-Ramparts 
 O'Rourke, the proudest man who walked upon the earth- 
 in his day. 
 
BRIAN OF-THE-R AMP ARTS O'ROURKE. IOj 
 
 He was succeeded by his son Brian of the Battle- 
 axes, of whom more presently. Brian of the Battle- 
 axes fixed himself in the Iron Mountains, and thence 
 waged truceless war with Bingham, beat Bingham, 
 recovered his father's territory, and did some con- 
 siderable things in his day. Indeed a foray on his 
 territory by Bingham, wherein his milch cows were 
 driven from his lawn (an intolerable insult) was the 
 proximate cause of the Nine Years' War. 
 
DON JUAN DE AQUILA— HERO 
 OF KINSALE. 
 
 N the summer of 1602, Philip III., King 
 of Spain, determined to send an army 
 to the assistance of Tyrone and O'Donnell- . 
 The command of the expedition, which 
 was limited to four thousand men, was 
 offered in succession to several Spanish 
 generals and was refused ; they would 
 not invade Ireland with less than eight 
 Finally it was offered to Don Juan, who 
 When he landed in Kinsale he had in 
 fact only three thousand two hundred, a great many 
 of them boys and raw recruits, whom he describes as 
 " besognies," and whom he had to teach how a to 
 shoot out of a peece " after he landed. He had no 
 cavalry. 
 
 Immediately on landing he published a proclama- 
 tion, declaring that no civilian would be injured in 
 
 thousand, 
 accepted. 
 
DON JUAN DE AQUILA, 107 
 
 person or property, and nothing taken from the people 
 save at their own prices. All who desired it had leave 
 to withdraw from Kinsale with their property ; those 
 who had previously fled were permitted to return, and 
 remove their property without molestation. Non- 
 combatants and private property were never so treated 
 in Ireland before. Don Juan was the first military 
 commander who ever waged war in Ireland according 
 to the rules of modern civilized warfare. He never 
 expected that he could defend Kinsale against the 
 Queen's armies. It was a small town of about two 
 hundred houses, with walls of no defence against 
 culverins, however strong against battering rams, 
 mantelets, and the other rude contrivances of mediaeval 
 engineers. It was open to battery from the sea, and 
 was dominated everywhere by neighbouring heights. 
 He just hoped that he might be able to hold the place 
 until the arrival of the northern lords, should they 
 march at once and march fast. Red Hugh came 
 at once with wings. Tyrone did not ; he made a 
 leisurely campaign in Meath, and returned home 
 again, before he proceeded, still in a leisurely manner, 
 to move towards Kinsale. So Don Juan was thrown 
 quite on his own resources. His defence of Kinsale 
 for some three months against great Royalist armies is 
 the most brilliant example of combined pluck, skill, 
 and endurance with which I am acquainted in Irish 
 history. I calculate that at least 15,000 men, not to 
 mention the Queen's fleet occupying the harbour and 
 
108 DON JUAN DE AQUILA. 
 
 bombarding thence, broke themselves against the in- 
 domitable energy of this man, and his handful of 
 Spanish infantry and besognies just taught how " to 
 shoot out of the peece." To keep out the Queen's 
 fleet he first seized the two keys of the harbour, Rin- 
 corran and Castle Park, and prepared them for the 
 reception of his artillery, which was due, but which 
 never came. To repel the land army he ran out 
 trenches, and dug shelter-pits towards those points 
 where the enemy would be likely to plant their 
 cannon. 
 
 Now, on all sides, a vast assailing force converged 
 upon him — the army of Ulster, under Captain 
 Blayney ; of Leinster, under the Marshal of Ireland ; 
 the veteran army of Connaught, all Irish, under 
 Clanricarde ; the army of Munster, under Carew ; 
 the gentlemen and feudal levy of West Cork and 
 Kerry, the gentlemen and feudal levy of East Cork 
 and Tipperary, and, in detachments of 2,000 each, 
 6,000 fresh soldiers out of England. The keys of the 
 harbour, through no fault of Don Juan, were captured, 
 and the Queen's fleet rode close to the walls of the 
 town. Every day and almost every night there was 
 bloody and desperate fighting between Don Juan's 
 advanced parties and the Queen's people seeking to 
 get closer and build their batteries. At the beginning 
 Don Juan's soldiers, the besognies •, I presume, were of 
 opinion that as soon as they were fairly worsted they 
 were at liberty to flee. Don Juan soon stopped this. 
 
DON JUAN DE AQUILAi 109 
 
 He issued a military proclamation that every man who 
 retreated before the enemy without being ordered to 
 do so by his officer would be shot. Under such a 
 regime his boys, and besognies soon became first-class 
 specimens of Spanish infantry. The Spanish infantry 
 were the best in the world at that time, and Don Juan's 
 men brought no stain upon the glory of the service. By 
 the way, there was a Spanish-Irish detachment in Don 
 Juan's army commanded by Don Dermutio and Don 
 Carlo M'Cartie. The refugees fought as well as any. 
 
 Mountjoy, foiled in his efforts to get close to the 
 walls, next determined on a universal bombardment, 
 hoping to pulverize the little town by sheer weight 
 of the metal flung into it. He planted a great 
 battery on the spit of land at Castlepark, another at 
 Knockrobin in the North, and other guns at different 
 points of vantage, with well elevated muzzles. The 
 Queen's war-ships too, under Admiral Levison, got 
 ready, and there was a terrible bombardment con- 
 tinuing for several days, and a vast quantity of lead 
 and iron was flung into the little town. But many of 
 the houses were really urban castles, not to be broken 
 by such small shot, and Don Juan's quick and 
 versatile soldiery repaired rents and damages as fast as 
 they were made. The bombardment sounded awful 
 to the surrounding rustics — it was like the end of the 
 world; but Don Juan did not mind it, though one 
 shot came through the roof of his house and, I think, 
 broke a tun of wine. 
 
lid DON JUAN DE AQUILA. 
 
 Mountjoy ordered the bombardment to cease, and 
 made another effort to bring his huge culverins close to 
 the town. It must be remembered that in all the 
 fightings around Kinsale Don Juan was at a great 
 disadvantage, having no cavalry, while Mountjoy was 
 very strong in that arm. This time Mountjoy suc- 
 ceeded. He drew his culverins within " half a caly- 
 ver's shot" of the North Gate, threw up the necessary 
 defences in spite of all resistance, and pounded 
 mightily upon the gateway. A great breach was made 
 there, into which, when deemed assaultable, the army 
 of Ulster was sent, and sent in vain. The Ulstermen, 
 after two hours' attempting, were rolled back by the 
 Spanish heroes. That night slow-moving Tyrone was 
 within a few days 7 march of Kinsale. Hardly was 
 the last shot fired at the North Port when Mountjoy 
 sent 2,000 men westward with digging tools to make a 
 battery near the West Port. Through the breach 
 which he hoped to make here he designed to send the 
 fiery young Clanricarde and the Connaught Irish : they, 
 if any men in the army, were likely to do the business. 
 All that night and all next day the diggers digged and 
 the carpenters hammered, nailing down the platforms, 
 though harassed by sallies and much firing from the 
 walls and Spanish shelter pits. At night all was ready 
 for the reception of the culverins. Next day the walls 
 would be breached ; the day after the Connaught men 
 would storm through. Every hour was now important, 
 for Tyrone was very near. Night fell, " foule and 
 
DON JUAN DE AQUILA. 1 1 1 
 
 rainy" and " extreame dark." The Spaniards seemed 
 very quiet to-night. Silence reigned in Kinsale 
 from five o'clock till eight. At eight Don Juan sallied 
 with 2,000 men — his whole available force — putting 
 his whole strength into that J3I0W. The Spaniards 
 carried eveyrthing before them ; they broke down the 
 " gabions," tore asunder the platforms, filled the 
 trenches, and simultaneously, with " incredible fury," 
 gave upon the old works too, those fronting the North 
 Gate. It is said that in that fierce sally they would 
 have carried the camp also and utterly routed Mountjoy 
 but for the arrival of Clanricarde and the Connaught 
 army, who were stationed some distance to the west, 
 and marched promptly through the dark night following 
 the sound of the firing. 
 
 Next day Mountjoy turned his guns with their 
 muzzles away from Kinsale. Slow Tyrone was now 
 at hand. The siege of Kinsale was over. Don Juan's 
 work was done. In Spain, doubtless, no one remem- 
 bers him, but the genius of Irish history absorbs 
 affectionately the whole story of his heroic defence of 
 Kinsale against great odds. Spaniard as he was, Don 
 Juan is now one of the notables of Irish history. He 
 fought against great odds in a most gallant manner, and 
 was in other respects a beautiful example of chivalry 
 and courtesy. 
 
 Mountjoy got no fighting out of his English soldiers. 
 They were wretched material to begin with, pressed 
 men and beggars and gaol-birds, and when they 
 
112 
 
 DON JUAN DE AQUILA. 
 
 arrived at Kinsale either fell sick and died or ran 
 away. They had no love of powder, and could not 
 endure hardship. All the fighting was done by Irish- 
 men, Mountjoy's great victory, the battle of Kinsale, 
 was in fact won by young Clanrickarde and the Con- 
 naught Irish. This gallant young chieftain whose 
 beauty was as remarkable as his gallantry, married the 
 widow of Sir Philip Sidney, who was also the widow of 
 Robert, Earl of Essex. 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW 
 MOUNTAINS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 CLIFFORD INVADES SLIGO. 
 
 ;N treating of the fall of the Queen's 
 favourite, Robert, Earl of' Essex, his- 
 torians have not at all sufficiently 
 recognised his very bad record as Chief 
 jS&J Governor of Ireland. They say he did 
 * *• nothing, but in fact he did a great deal 
 less, for he was beaten by the insurgent lords at 
 many points. As he marched through the Queen's 
 County young O'More, lord of that region, routed 
 his rear-guard and plundered his baggage in the 
 Pass of Plumes. At Askeaton, Co. Limerick, he 
 was beaten by the Geraldines and driven back out 
 of West Munster. The sons of Feagh MacHugh 
 defeated his cavalry in one battle and his infantry 
 in another. Finally his lieutenant, Sir Conyers 
 
 H 
 
114 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS, 
 
 Clifford, President of Connaught, was first beaten by 
 Red Hugh at Ballyshannon and afterwards beaten 
 disastrously in the Curlew Mountains. With such an 
 Irish record it is not surprising that on his return to 
 London his reception should have been so cold. I 
 propose here to give a sketch of this latter battle, partly 
 to enable the reader to form some idea of the curiously 
 embroiled and intertangled relations of the chief- 
 tairrry with each other and with the State, and partly 
 with the purpose of illustrating the war-methods of the 
 sixteenth century as practised in Ireland. 
 
 When the " Nine Years' War v broke out Sir Richard 
 Bingham was master of all Connaught. Presently he 
 came into collision with Red Hugh, and Red Hugh 
 beat him. Red Hugh was only a boy, yet he beat the 
 veteran and shook most of Connaught loose from his 
 control. When Essex came into Ireland, Bingham was 
 hopelessly beaten and could hardly venture to show 
 himself outside the gates of Athlone. The Burkes of 
 Clanricarde and the O'Briens of Thomond, two zealous 
 royalist clans, alone kept the Queen's flag flying in the 
 open, and Red Hugh was destroying them. Then the 
 Queen recalled Bingham in disgrace. He was brought 
 to London ^as a State Prisoner pursued by an infinity of 
 complaints urged against him by chieftains of the West, 
 and Sir Conyers Clifford appointed President of Con- 
 naught simultaneously with the appointment of the 
 Earl of Essex as Lord Lieutenant of the realm. Clifford 
 seems to have been a man of signal nobility of charac- 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 115 
 
 ter. The Four Masters declare that " there did not 
 come of English blood into Ireland in the latter times 
 a more worthy person," His reputation preceded him, 
 and on his arrival a considerable proportion of the 
 western lords who had been previously in rebellion 
 and allies of Red Hugh waited upon him and tendered 
 him their allegiance. So without striking a blow 
 Clifford recovered immediately the greater portion of 
 the Province. Then at the head of a considerable army 
 he marched northwards for the invasion of Tyrconnel 
 but did not succeed. Red Hugh beat him at Bally- 
 shannon, drove him back and resumed his operations 
 in Connaught. 
 
 The county of Sligo was one of the divisions of 
 Connaught in which the change produced by the 
 coming of Clifford was not felt. It was still strongly 
 held by Red Hugh's lieutenants. In 1598 Clifford 
 flung into that county a young Royalist chieftain and 
 a body of horse with the object of exciting there a 
 rebellion of Red Hugh's feudatories. A cavalry battle 
 ensued in which the Royalists were overthrown by 
 Red Hugh's horse, and the leader of this forlorn hope, 
 in fact the O'Conor Sligo, was driven within the 
 fortress of Collooney and there besieged by Red 
 Hugh. 
 
 Partly to relieve him, partly to deliver another great 
 stroke at Red Hugh, Clifford mustered his forces at 
 Athlone. When all was in readiness Clifford rose 
 thence and marched to Boyle, a strong town in the 
 
Il6 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 north of Roscommon, close to the frontiers of Sligo. 
 Between Roscommon and Sligo lay the Curlew Moun- 
 tains, on the north side of which all the country was held 
 by Red Hugh, except CoDooney, which he was block- 
 ading. Clifford's force numbered 2,500 infantry and 
 300 horse. It consisted of Connaught-Irish, Meath- 
 Irish and regulars. The regulars were, for the most 
 part Irish too, but officered to some extent by English 
 gentlemen. The Connaught and Meath contingents 
 represented the military quotas which- those provinces 
 were bound to furnish for war. On demand under 
 certain conditions, all the nobles and landowners were 
 bound to " rise out," as the phrase ran, at the head of 
 a fixed body of foot and horse well equipped and serve 
 it their own expense for forty days. To our notions 
 Clifford's army on this occasion was absurdly small. 
 But in the sixteenth century such a force was not small, 
 but, on the contrary, a great host. The State was 
 seldom able to put into the field for active service an 
 army of more than 4,000 men nor the insurgent chiefs 
 one of greater dimensions. When at Kinsale the. con- 
 tending powers severally brought all their forces to a 
 head, out of the w r hole of Ireland there were but some 
 six or seven thousand effective men on each side. 
 
 At the head of this force Clifford, on the 13th of 
 August, marched through the gates of Boyle in the 
 midst of wild weather and heavy pouring rain. The 
 army had come that day from the town of Roscommon 
 and entered Boyle wet and weary and thinking only 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 117 
 
 of supper, rest, and sleep. Clifford took up his 
 quarters in the monastery there, the rest of his army- 
 was billeted throughout the town. Monastery and 
 town must have been of considerable capacity, for I find 
 a little later a garrison of 1,500 men posted here. 
 Clifford's army, I say, expected to sleep comfortably in 
 Boyle that night, but they did not. Shortly after their 
 arrival the army was on march again, moving silently 
 through darkness and rain towards the Curlew Moun- 
 tains. Why we shall see presently. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 NIAL GARF MOUNTS GUARD OVER 
 COLLOONEY. 
 
 When Red Hugh heard of this invasion he lay, with 
 cavalry only, blockading the castle of Collooney. 
 Within that castle was the O'Conor Sligo. Hugh was 
 very anxious to lay his hands upon O'Conor Sligo who 
 had, for a long time, given him a great deal of trouble. 
 Hearing the tidings,Hugh wrote to Tyrone to come and 
 help ; Tyrone came by forced marches, but was unable 
 to help. He came too late. Hugh also sent the usual 
 war-summons to all his feudatories and captains, and 
 all these being near came to him at once. These were 
 O'Dogherty, the three M 'Sweenies, Q'Boyle, O'Byrne, 
 M'Clancy, O'Gallagher and others. His army when 
 
Il8 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 assembled consisted of about 2,500 men, horse and 
 foot. We see here a proof of Red Hugh's military 
 power. On the sudden he was able to draw together 
 a force as great as that of the Queen's President of all 
 Connaught. Nor was it in any respect less efficient. 
 Hugh now rose from Collooney, but left behind him 
 200 horse to continue the blockade. 
 
 To the command of this force he appointed his 
 cousin, Nial Garf, i.e. Nial the Rough. I notice him 
 here particularly, for it was this rough cousin whose 
 defection a little afterwards broke Red Hugh's brilliant 
 career. Nial Garf rebelled against Red Hugh, became 
 the " Queen's " O'Donnell and led a great Queen's 
 party in the north-west. 
 
 He was a violent, headstrong, implacable young 
 man, and most furious both in speech and demeanour. 
 
 As Hugh Roe with the bulk of his army marches 
 southwards from Collooney, imagine Nial Garf with 
 his 200 horsemen moving round that fortress through 
 the trees and Nial's fierce and strident voice uplifted at 
 times ringing out words of menace and command. 
 That young man, afterwards the Queen's O'Donnell, 
 was certainly the roughest, ruggedest, and most bull- 
 headed and bull-hearted creature to be found anywhere 
 at this time. On the march Red Hugh detached a 
 second force. This went to the town and harbour of 
 Sligo. Why I shall now explain. 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 119 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 THE LAND BURKE AND THE SEA BURKE. 
 
 The large army with which Clifford marched to Boyle 
 represented only one wing of his invasion. He was, 
 in fact, invading Red Hugh's country by sea as well 
 as by land. Amongst Clifford's Connaught allies was 
 one noteworthy figure, Theabod Burke, son of 
 Granuaile and of her second husband, Rickard-in-Iron, 
 lord of all -Mayo. Granuaile, I think, was still alive. 
 A short time before this she had written to her friend, 
 Queen Elizabeth, informing her that she had now quite 
 done with war and was engaged "in farming." I must 
 mention, however, that at the same time Bingham also 
 wrote to the Queen complaining that Granuaile, in 
 spite of her great age, was the root of all the hurley- 
 burleys and disturbances of the West of Ireland. 
 " Even in our ashes live our wonted fires. " 
 
 This Theabod was comonly called " Theabod of the 
 Ships," and said to have been borne by Granuaile on 
 the high seas while she was returning to Ireland from 
 her famous visit to Queen Elizabeth. Both these 
 termagants entertained for each other a kindly feeling. 
 They kept up a correspondence, and it was ever 
 friendly. There is no truth in the tradition that 
 Granuaile affected any sort of equality with the 
 Queen, though possibly enough she did refuse a 
 countess-ship at the hands of Elizabeth which would 
 have been only a white elephant to her in Connaught, 
 
120 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 At this time " Theabod of the Ships " inherited his 
 mother's authority over the brave seafaring nation of 
 the O'Malleys. By law or by the strong hand he was 
 Admiral of Connaught, and had armed galleys and 
 sailors enough to support his claims. He was also 
 pretender to the Northern MacWilliamship, that is to 
 say, to the supreme Government of the great county of 
 Mayo. He put forward this pretension in right of his 
 father, Rickard-in-Iron, the late MacWilliam. In the 
 beginning of the Nine Years' War Theabod had rebelled 
 against Bingham and allied himself with Red Hugh 3 in 
 fact all the MacWilliam Burkes of Mayo had rebelled 
 on that occasion. Red Hugh marched into the 
 county and held a great convention of all the Burkes 
 with the purpose of appointing a new MacWilliam. 
 Now the claimant who had the best right according to 
 Irish law happened to be very old, whereas Hugh 
 required a stout, active soldier to act as his lieutenant 
 in Mayo. He accordingly chose as fittest for his 
 purpose a youth known as Theabod, son of Walter, and 
 solemnly installed him as the new MacWilliam, pass- 
 ing over the claims of Theabod, son of Granuaile. 
 The latter Theabod accordingly rebelled against Red 
 Hugh and joined Clifford. I may here observe that 
 from this "Theabod of the Ships," son of Granuaile, 
 sprang the Earls of Mayo, one of whom not long ago 
 distinguished himself so much as Governor-General of 
 India. Theabod also made a private treaty with the 
 O'Conor Sligo and married his sister. When Clifford 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 1 21 
 
 determined to invade Tir-Connall he resolved to utilise 
 the services of this welcome ally. He intended upon 
 this expedition to rebuild the great castle of Sligo which 
 commanded the roads from the North into Connaught 
 and which Red Hugh had recently dismantled. In 
 obedience to Clifford's request Theabod brought all 
 his ships to Galway and there loaded them with lime 
 and timber, and building tools and materials of all 
 kinds, taking also on board a great number of masons. 
 This done he sailed round Connaught, put into the 
 harbour of Sligo, and there cast anchor, waiting till 
 Clifford and the invading land force should arrive. 
 He would then disembark all his masons and materials. 
 Red Hugh accordingly as he marched south to the 
 Curlews detached to Sligo that force of 400 men to 
 keep a watch upon Theabod. Red Hugh prudently 
 appointed to the command of this force a gentleman 
 who was certain to do his very best upon Theabod. 
 This was Hugh's new MacWilliam, the other Theabod, 
 Theabod son of Walter. The reader, while other 
 developments are coming, will keep in mind these two 
 Burkes, the land Burke and the sea Burke glowering 
 upon each other at Sligo, the sea Burke rocking idly on 
 the blue waters of the bay, and the land Burke encamped 
 about the ruins of the old castle observing the motions 
 of his adversary, an adversary whom he regarded as a 
 rebel against his just and legitimate authority, and 
 whom if he could catch he would hang with the 
 greatest pleasure. For the land Burke was the 
 
122 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 MacWilliam, and as such lord of every Burke in the 
 north of Connaught, including the sea Burke. On the 
 other hand the sea Burke who had been also nominated 
 MacWilliam, regarded the land Burke with just the 
 same feelings. For the present, however, they can do 
 nothing but scowl at each other and hurl opprobrious 
 expressions. It was like a war between a sword-fish 
 and leopard. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 RED HUGH BLOCKS THE CURLEWS. 
 
 Hugh Roe at the head of the rest of his army marched 
 straight forward to the Curlews, going with his accus- 
 tomed velocity and encamped on the northern slopes 
 of the same. From Boyle two roads led through the 
 mountains into Sligo. One of these was circuitous, 
 rugged and easily defended. It was unlikely that 
 Clifford would try to force the Curlews by this road, 
 nevertheless Hugh blocked it with 300 picked men, 
 pikes and guns, no cavalry. He himself leading the 
 bulk of his forces, and a considerable body of churls 
 bearing spades and axes advanced from his camp along 
 the direct road till he came to the blackened ruins of a 
 castle which once commanded a gorge on the southern 
 slope of the mountains. This castle had been erected 
 by Bingham both for the defence of the Pass and as a 
 fetter on the warlike MacDermot clan who occupied 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 12^ 
 
 this region. Shortly after the breaking out of the war 
 it had been stormed and burnt by the chief of this clan, 
 MacDermot of the Curlews, a brave man, not at all so 
 rude and wild as one might imagine, as the reader 
 will discover later on. 
 
 At this point Red Hugh determined to fight with 
 Clifford, and to that end ordered the erection there of 
 a barricade with double flanks. This was early on 
 the morning of the 13th, and at the time when 
 Clifford was marching out of Roscommon along the 
 road to Boyle. The morning was bright and fine, but 
 the atmosphere was suspiciously transparent. From 
 the mouth of the gorge, through a small opening in 
 the trees, the walls, towers, and turrets of Boyle could 
 be distinctly seen white and glistening in the sunlight. 
 Red Hugh, who was on horseback, and surrounded 
 by his chiefs and principal officers, stood still for 
 a while, and regarded it intently. This young man, 
 now for many years the terror of all Royalists in the 
 West, was only 26 years of age, and even looked 
 younger than he was, so clear and fresh was his com- 
 plexion, so vivid his countenance, so alert and rapid 
 was he in all his movements. Yet he was no boy, 
 but already a skilful commander in the field, and 
 a strong and resolute administrator. Then he bade 
 his men fall to, and the adjoining woods rang with the 
 noise of axes, and presently sounded with the crash of 
 falling timber. Meantime the gorge was alive with 
 spademen labouring diligently under the directions of 
 
I24 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 the young chiefs engineers, and gradually the barricade 
 began to assume form. Once for all, let me warn the 
 reader against the common and ignorant notion that 
 the armies of the insurgent lords were rude crowds of 
 what are vaguely known as kerne. They were armies 
 in the proper sense of the word, armed, directed, and 
 handled according to the best military methods in vogue 
 at the time. 
 
 Shortly after noon the sky became overcast, and at 
 two o'clock the rain fell, and continued to fall. At 
 four there was a sound of the firing of heavy ordnance 
 from the direction of Boyle ; it was the garrison ot 
 Boyle saluting the army of the President. The 
 flashes were quite visible. Red Hugh believed that 
 Clifford, after a short halt, would roll forward again, 
 and force the passage of the Curlews. The pro- 
 bability also was that he would advance by the direct 
 road. Should he prefer the more circuitous route, 
 Hugh believed that the three hundred planted there 
 would be able to retard his advance sufficiently to 
 enable himself to transfer his army by the nearest 
 cross country ways, and fight Clifford upon that road 
 at a point which he had already settled in his mind. 
 Clifford, in fact, was not aware that Red Hugh was in 
 this neighbourhood at all ; for Hugh had come from 
 Collooney with extraordinary celerity. Clifford im- 
 agined that he had only to deal with MacDermot of 
 the Curlews, Hugh's marcher-lord in this region. 
 Behind the barricade Hugh's people stood under 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. I 25 
 
 arms, the gunmen forward with matches already lit, 
 behind them the battle, and on the wings kerne, 
 i.e. light foot, armed only with swords and javelins. 
 His few horsemen were posted under shelter of a 
 wood on the right of the barricade. Presently the 
 whole of Clifford's army reached Boyle, and in- 
 stead of advancing, as Red Hugh firmly expected, 
 entered Boyle, presumably for a short rest and for 
 refreshment. Now, however, hour succeeded hour, 
 and there was no sign of the emergence of Clifford's 
 people from Boyle. On the contrary, as night fell, 
 Hugh's scouts came in with intelligence that all the 
 bugle notes heard in the town indicated that the 
 Royalist army would pass the night there. The rain 
 now began to fall in torrents, and the wind rose to a 
 storm howling in the forest, and whistling round the 
 crags of the mountain sides. It grew dark two hours 
 before darkness was due. Red Hugh now deter- 
 mined to lead his army back to camp, leaving a 
 force of gunmen to hold the barricade as well as 
 they could in the event of a night attack. Such an 
 attack might possibly be delivered, but was he to keep 
 his army here all night under arms waiting for an 
 assault which might never come ? In that event his 
 tired men would have to contend in the morning with 
 Clifford's well rested and refreshed forces. Hugh was 
 himself full of strategy, and tactical wiles and guiles, 
 renowned for the suddenness of his onfalls and 
 the celerity of his movements. He did not credit 
 
126 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 Royalist commanders with a talent for the execution of 
 such strokes, and rightly. The Queen's armies, for 
 reasons into which we need not now enquire, were 
 slow in their movements, and their action could, as a 
 rule, be predicted. Hugh bade the officer in charge of 
 the barricade send a swift mounted messenger to him 
 at the first sign of the approach of Clifford's men, bade 
 the bugles sound retreat, and rode away with his 
 army, winding darkling, through the wild Curlews. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE QUEEN'S McSWEENY. 
 
 Red Hugh did not succeed in bringing all his soldiers 
 back to camp. Shortly after that sounding of the 
 trumpets,,there emerged from the woods on the right side 
 of the barricade, three men wearing brazen morions, 
 two with guns on their shoulders, who stepped down 
 the slope swiftly, going in the direction of Boyle. The 
 man who had no gun was a gentleman of the McS weeny 
 nation. His name is unknown, but his purpose is 
 well known. He was about to change sides and ally 
 himself with the cause of the Queen. He believed 
 that his change of sides would be peculiarly welcome 
 to the Queen's people just now, because he brought 
 with him important intelligence. He could tell them 
 that the narrow gorge at the head of the Curlew Pass 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. I 27 
 
 was undefended, that Hugh Roe, trusting to the black- 
 ness and wetness of the night, had marched back to 
 camp, and that if they wished to do a good stroke upon 
 him, now was the time. 
 
 No one can study the history of Elizabethan Ireland 
 without being amazed and disgusted at the choppings 
 and changings which marked the careers of nearly all 
 the chieftains. Granuaile's son fought first for Hugh 
 Roe and then for the Queen, and changed sides twice 
 after that. His rival, the land Burke, now with Hugh 
 Roe, was once a pillar of the Queen's cause in Mayo. 
 Red Hugh himself, once the Queen's O'Donnell, and 
 her sworn ally, is now in rebellion. His cousin Nial 
 Garf, now in rebellion, will one day be a pillar of the 
 Queen's cause in the north-west, and before the end 
 of the war will be in rebellion again. O'Conor 
 Sligo, now as a Queen's man blockaded in Collooney, 
 will presently be Red Hugh's man, and in a year or 
 two be a Queen's man again, so that Red Hugh will 
 have to seize and imprison him and give his lordship 
 to his brother. But in each case there is an explanation, 
 and if one looks closely into the explanation one does 
 not find the apparent treacheries so very surprising. 
 
 As for the deserters now stepping down the slopes 
 of the Curlews, making for Boyle, whose red lights 
 show through the darkness and the rain — why are they 
 changing sides ? The explanation is this : — 
 
 Shortly after Hugh Roe arrived at the chieftainship, 
 his foster father, McSweeny of the Battle- Axes, died. 
 
128 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 There were two candidates for that chieftainship, the 
 son ot Hugh's foster father, and the son of a former 
 McSweeny, who was one of the most famous 
 chieftains of his day, Murrough the Slow, a man 
 grandly eulogized by the Four Masters. The name 
 of the latter candidate was Miler McSweeny, and of 
 the two, I believe he had the better right, according 
 to Irish law and custom. But the custom being so 
 often broken by the strong hand, was not paramount, 
 and so Red Hugh manfully stood by his own foster- 
 brother and made him McSweeny of the Battle- Axes. 
 He himself, Hugh Roe, was not O'Donnell by Irish 
 law. There were others who had better claims. He 
 was O'Donnell partly by the strong hand, and partly 
 by Royal favour, for he began his career as the Queen's 
 O'Donnell. He had therefore, naturally, no super- 
 stitious reverence for Irish law and custom which 
 enjoined that the eldest of the clan regnant, whether 
 nephew, son, uncle or cousin, should succeed to a 
 vacant chieftainship. Accordingly, Hugh Roe made 
 his foster-brother the McSweeny, and passed over 
 Miler, son of Murrough the Slow. Miler, collect, 
 ing his most faithful followers and kinsmen, re- 
 belled, was beaten, and fled out of Tir-Connall. He 
 and his then enlisted in the service of the Queen. The 
 authorities promised him that after the overthrow of 
 the usurping Hugh Roe, he should be McSweeny of 
 the Battle-Axes. So he became a Queen's man heart 
 and soul. He was with Essex in the Munster cam- 
 
EATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 1 29 
 
 paigns, and so distinguished himself there for valour 
 and conduct, that Essex knighted him. He was now 
 Sir Miler McSweeny, and one of the celebrated soldiers 
 of the day. He had recently come from Munster into 
 Connaught. He was a close friend of Sir Conyers 
 Clifford, the President, and was, I believe, captain of 
 his life-guard. Sir Miler McSweeny is now marching 
 northwards, hoping to overthrow Red Hugh, to 
 drive out the usurping McSweeny, and to rule in his 
 stead over the lordship of which he had been so 
 tyrannously deprived. The three men whom we saw 
 deserting Red Hugh, are ancient friends or kinsmen of 
 Sir Miler. Learning that he was so near, they resolved 
 to take advantage of the darkness and rain, and join 
 him in Boyle. No doubt they loved Sir Miler, and 
 probably enough, like many soldiers, had various 
 grounds of complaint against their own commander. 
 
 So these three men stepped from the slopes of the 
 Curlews, crossed the dark wet plain, presented them- 
 selves to the sentinels at Boyle, and were led into Sir 
 Miler's presence. To him they explained the situation. 
 By him it was also explained to Sir Conyers and his 
 officers, with the result that in a short time the bugles 
 rang out, and all Boyle sounded with the noise of 
 military preparation. In spite of darkness and teem- 
 ing rain, Clifford's army got on march again, and 
 rolled forward through the night towards the pass in 
 the Curlew mountains, which, as we know, was now 
 practically undefended, 
 
 I 
 
130 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 BRIAN OGUE OF THE BATTLE-AXES. 
 
 When Hugh Roe arrived at his camp he found him- 
 self reinforced by the arrival of the Lord of Leitrim, 
 The O'Rourke, Brian Ogue of the Battle-Axes. It 
 was he whose milch cows Bingham had seized upon 
 the lawn at Dromahaire. It was he who, by exacting 
 vengeance on the Binghams for that insult, had unin- 
 tentionally kindled all the North into rebellion, and so 
 precipitated the Nine Years' War. He arrived in 
 camp leading a little army of horse and foot, and 
 amongst the foot 160 big gallowglasses clad in shirts 
 of glittering chain-mail, and carrying long battle-axes. 
 As these gallowglasses played a great part in the 
 Battle of the Curlew Mountains, the reader must not 
 forget them. Brian Ogue came late, and in fact till 
 the last moment had some notion of not coming at all. 
 If it be asked whether Brian Ogue's record as an 
 insurgent was fair, clear, and consistent, I must reply 
 that it was not. He, too, hovered from side to side. 
 The explanation of Brian Ogue's vacillations is in- 
 teresting in itself, and will help to illustrate the 
 character of the times. 
 
 Brian Ogue was his father's eldest son, but was not 
 legitimate. He was the son of Brian of-the- 
 Ramparts, that inordinately proud chieftain, by a 
 concubine who afterwards married a merchant in the 
 town of Sligo, and was living there now as a married 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. I3T 
 
 woman. It must be remembered that all over 
 Europe even great nobles did not hesitate to espouse 
 the discarded concubines of kings. Similarly in 
 Ireland, merchants and the minor gentry thought 
 it no shame to marry the discarded concubines 
 of great lords and high chieftains. The low stand- 
 ard of morals which this practice implies was not 
 peculiarly Irish ; it was common to all Europe, and 
 was one of the results of king-worship. There were 
 no such king-worshippers anywhere as the Irish, and 
 dearly they paid for it in the next century. 
 
 Subsequently Brian Ogue's father married the Lady 
 Mary Burke, sister of Ulick, Earl of Clanricarde. I 
 would have the reader remember that there was little 
 or no difference between great people in Ireland and 
 great people in England and elsewhere at this time. 
 They were essentially the same class. So we find that 
 while Brian of the Ramparts married one sister of 
 Ulick the Earl, Sir Henry Malby, the Queen's Presi- 
 dent of Connaught, married another. Again, the eldest 
 son of Ulick married the Lady Frances Walsingham, 
 who was widow of Sir Philip Sidney, and also of 
 Robert, Earl of Essex. So this high lady, one of the 
 highest in the Empire, called Brian of-the-Ramparts 
 O'Rourke, "uncle." They were all essentially the 
 same sort of people, and recognised each other as 
 such. 
 
 The Lady Mary Burke bore a son to O'Rourke. 
 He was called Cathal. When O'Rourke went into 
 
132 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 rebellion Cathal was a child. So, for purposes of war 
 and government, he had to lean on his eldest son, the 
 son of the concubine. Consequently, when the old 
 O'Rourke was executed for treason, Brian Ogue, 
 in spite of illegitimacy, succeeded him as chieftain. 
 Meantime, Lady O'Rourke sent her boy to school to 
 limerick, where he was put under the care of a certain 
 Master White, who kept a large school there, fre- 
 quented by the sons of the western and southern 
 lords. The Government kept an attentive eye 
 upon that school. When boys were removed 
 in large numbers it was a storm-signal. It meant 
 that their fathers were going into rebellion. 
 The reader will now see that though Brian Ogue, the 
 son of the concubine, was lord de facto of Leitrim, his 
 half brother, the school-boy, being his father's eldest 
 legitimate son, was lord de jure. Brian Ogue had, in 
 fact, no claim whatsoever to that seignorie, save the 
 right of the strong hand. When Clifford came into the 
 province Brian Ogue intrigued with him. He hoped 
 that Clifford in return for military assistance would be 
 able to establish him in his insecure lordship and 
 strike some arrangement between himself and the 
 house of Clanrickarde which, of course, supported the 
 title of their kinsman the boy Cathal. In fact Brian 
 Ogue about this time would have openly sided with 
 the Queen and supported Clifford to the utmost of his 
 power but for the menaces of Red Hugh. Red Hugh 
 had to flash his sword, so to speak, several times 
 
B.ATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 133 
 
 in the eyes of Brian Ogue before he could deter him 
 from that course. 
 
 Though Brian Ogue now came late to Red Hugh's 
 hosting he did come and his arrival was very welcome 
 to Red Hugh. This Brian, as we have seen else- 
 where, was an Oxford man. He was at the University 
 when his father went into rebellion. Hearing the news 
 he fled from Oxford and came home through Scotland 
 and Ulster. 
 
 Hugh marching south to the Curlews left no enemy 
 behind him. Ballymote, the third great fortress of the 
 territory, had fallen into his hands in the previous year. 
 It was the capital, as one might say, of the barony of 
 Corran, the lord of which barony was a MacDonough. 
 
 In the previous year this MacDonough of Corran 
 captured Ballymote from the O'Conor Sligo and drove 
 out the Queen's people. He then sold Ballymote to 
 Red Hugh, after which it became Hugh's head- 
 quarters. This event, as recorded in the Four Masters, 
 is curiously suggestive of the times : — 
 
 "The Governor of Connaught and O'Donnell, i.e. Red 
 Hugh, were bidding against each other for the castle and 
 proposing to purchase it from the MacDonoughs. But 
 the end of the matter was that the MacDonough gave the 
 castle to O'Donnell on terms of purchase and contract in 
 the middle month of the harvest of this year. ^400 and 
 300 cows was the price which O'Donnell gave the 
 MacDonoughs for the town." 
 
 Here then we see a powerful chieftain affecting 
 neither cause, but anxious only to make the most he 
 
134 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 could out of the situation. But to judge any of these 
 men, we must get out of the nineteenth century and 
 take our stand in the midst of the sixteenth, and that, 
 indeed, is not easy. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 RED HUGH GIVES HIS MEN A GOOD 
 BREAKFAST AND A SHORT SPEECH, 
 
 Now drew on the Feast of the Virgin Mary, a festival 
 still known among our peasantry as Lady Day in 
 harvest. On the day before the feast Red Hugh pro- 
 claimed a solemn fast. All fasted, confessed and 
 " received the Body of Christ " and went to bed hungry 
 but comforted. All the confederated chieftains gave 
 themselves out as champions of the Church. Policy 
 if not principle led to the adoption of that course. 
 The assumption of such a role would give them greater 
 power over their followers, and enable them to draw 
 support from the Catholic princes of the Continent. 
 The religious question, however, had, I think, very 
 little to do with this or any of the Irish wars of the 
 sixteenth century. The princes of Ireland really 
 
 Note. — It may interest the reader to know that Ballymote 
 was the nidus of the Taafe family, now for a long time very 
 powerful in Austria. When the Nine Years' War came to an 
 end Ballymote was granted to the Taafes who were created 
 Viscounts of Corran. They fought for the Crown against the 
 Puritans, were expelled, and went into the Austrian service. 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS, 135 
 
 fought in defence of their feudal independence. Born 
 kings, and educated under all the old dynastic influ- 
 ences, they could not brook the huge invasions which 
 the advance of the central authority during this cen- 
 tury made upon their jura regalia — the tax-gatherers, 
 the sheriffs, the Provincial Presidents, the going 
 judges of Assize, the abolition of cuttings and spend- 
 ings, of suppers and cosherings, &c. The Queen's 
 Irish were all Catholics too, and I suppose quite as 
 devout. But the confederate chiefs, for one reason or 
 another, were wont to represent themselves in a 
 peculiar degree as champions of the Church. So Red 
 Hugh solemnly proclaimed a fast on the eve of Lady 
 Day, after which he and his warriors went to bed 
 hungry but comforted. 
 
 Hugh took good care of his men. They were pro- 
 tected from the weather and from ague and rheumatism 
 by good leathern tents.* Hence we may presume 
 that such a successful campaigner and swift journeyer 
 looked well also to his commissariat, and that his men 
 lacked nothing which fighting men should have. 
 Night fell, and also rain. Whoever waked that night 
 heard it loud-pattering against the leathern walls, 
 provoking thoughts. 
 
 It was the eve of the day of battle. All expected 
 
 that Clifford would attempt to force the pass on the 
 
 morrow. Some did not sleep and could not, viz., 
 
 Red Hugh's scouts and sentinels keeping watch up 
 
 * Historic*, Hibernice, p. 210. 
 
I36 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 the pass looking Boyle-ward from the bristly barricado, 
 wet to the bone, but vigilant, peering through the 
 darkness, or listening with inclined heads. 
 
 Morning dawned, still teeming, rain, rain, the heavy 
 black sky promising an abundant downfall. Red 
 Hugh looked out, and in his red head arose the con- 
 viction that the President would not move this day, 
 would, on the contrary, remain comfortably in monastic 
 Boyle. In gunmen the President was superior. 
 Apart from natural disinclination to march and fight 
 under such very pluvious conditions, he would be un- 
 willing, thought Hugh, to neutralize his fire-arms. 
 In those days of tow-matches and matchlocks the 
 gunman was helpless before rain. Brave Hugh, too, 
 I suppose, had little stomach for a wet day's fighting, 
 and the fasting of the previous day, perhaps, made 
 him less alert than usual, and helped the wish to 
 engender the thought that Clifford would not stir, and 
 that this, the Virgin's own day, would be spent in 
 peace and festivity. His captains came and received 
 their orders, not murmuring, whatever they may have 
 thought, "for truly whatever he ordered it should be 
 done according, as he commanded it by the word of 
 his mouth."* 
 
 In social hours the young chieftain was gentle, but 
 in all that related to war and government most im- 
 perative and masterful. His captains departed, and 
 Red Hugh's camp gave no sign of an early arming 
 
 * . Four Masters, 160 1 . 
 
CATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 1 37 
 
 and preparation, But now arrived visitors of a 
 different sort. Horsemen galloped up to the great 
 central tent, and springing swiftly from the saddle, 
 announced that the enemy was on the march, and, at 
 their ease, crossing or about to cross the strewn 
 timber. The battle would not now be fought where 
 the advantage was with the northerns, but on this side 
 of the selected point and on even terms. A swift 
 shadow crossed the face of the young prince at these 
 ill tidings. Had he known that this blow came from 
 his own revolted vassal, Sir Miler, it would probably 
 have been deeper. But quickly recovering himself 
 he invented new plans and sent out new orders. 
 " Breakfast at once for the whole army," was the first 
 of these ; surely a good beginning for a day w r hich 
 promised to be one of long and continued battle. 
 Breakfast, too, was doubly necessary this morning, for 
 his devout warriors were hollow-bellied enough after 
 yesterday's severe abstinence. The ordinary fare of 
 Irish soldiers in this century was oat-meal or oat-cake 
 and butter, with milk. I have seen a contract made 
 between Hugh and one of his captains, very precise 
 about meal and money, but with no allusion to meat. 
 If the reader be not too anxious to get on to the 
 battle, perhaps the following Homeric picture of the 
 interior of an Irish camp at night, and of the supper 
 served round to the guards of a 16th century Irish 
 chieftain may not be unwelcome : — * 
 * pour Masters, A.D. 1557. 
 
138 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 " When Calvach heard that Shane had advanced to 
 that place with his forces he sent two of his faithful 
 men to reconnoitre them, whose names were Donough 
 Ogue, son of Donough Roe Maguire and Maurice 
 MacAilin, Those twain went forward unnoticed until 
 they were in the midst of the warriors of Shane, who 
 were so numerous that they could not know one 
 another even by day save only by recognising their 
 leaders. 
 
 " Those two just-mentioned persons moved on 
 from one camp-fire to another, till they came to the 
 great central fire which was in front of the tent-door 
 of the son of O'Neill, from which an immense light 
 blazed forth, for here in the centre was the com- 
 mander himself, and around that fire were sixty war- 
 like gallowglasses ready for action, with their sharp, 
 well-mounted battle-axes, and sixty resolute determined 
 Scots, with their broad, weighty, sore-smiting swords 
 in their hands, watching and guarding the son of 
 O'Neill. 
 
 " When the time arrived for the forces to take their 
 food, and while it was divided and distributed among 
 them, these two spies extended their hands for their 
 portion, like the rest, to the distributor, and what they 
 received was their helmets full of meal, with a due 
 proportion of butter. 
 
 " With these proofs they returned to their people. 
 That night Shane was attacked, his army destroyed, 
 and he himself barely escaped. In the division of the 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 1 39 
 
 booty there fell to the share of Con, son of Calvach, 
 the splendid steed of the son of O'Neill, which was 
 called Mac-an-Ilar, son of the eagle." 
 
 Red Hugh's warriors on this eventful morning got 
 some such breakfast,* with milk. Meat probably, was 
 added as far as possible. The prince surely gave his 
 men as good a breakfast as his commissariat could 
 supply. 
 
 Meantime he sent for one of his best officers, 
 MacDermot of the Curlews, his marcher lord in this 
 region, also for his own foster-brother, MacSweeny of 
 the Battle-Axes, and for two brothers of the warlike 
 and famous sept of the O'Gallaghers, namely, Eocha 
 and Tully O'Gallagher. These he directed to take six 
 standards of foot, gunmen for the most part, to advance 
 into the mountains and gall and impede Clifford, all 
 they could, in his progress through the Curlews ; and 
 he appointed MacDermot chief in command. He 
 also ordered Brian Ogue of the Battle-Axes to follow 
 MacDermot with his 160 heavy-armed Breffneian 
 gallowglasses, as a solid back to that skirmishing party. 
 These captains having received their orders, returned 
 to their quarters and made the necessary preparations. 
 Breakfast now over, Red Hugh appeared in armour 
 before his tent, where the army was summoned to 
 
 * "Extemplo jubet O'Donnellus milites cito capere cibum quo 
 firmiores praeliando sint." Forthwith O'Donnell directs his 
 soldiers to eat breakfast in order that they may be stronger for 
 fighting. Philip O' Sullivan. 
 
140 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 attend, and delivered a brief military harangue. He 
 was now 26 years of age, had been for seven years prince 
 of Tir-Connall, and had enjoyed seven years of almost un- 
 broken triumph in war. The speech has been preserved 
 by Philip O'Sullivan, who was personally acquainted 
 with many who heard it. See Historia Hibernice^ 
 p. 210. In striving to imagine this scene, the reader 
 will remember that Red Hugh was a very handsome 
 youth. "His countenance/' say the veracious Four 
 Masters, who knew him, " was so beautiful, that every 
 one who looked upon him, loved him." He was per- 
 fectly proportioned, very strong, and well set in figure, 
 of middle height, rather tall than short. His com- 
 plexion was of that clear brightness which usually 
 accompanies red hair, and his eyes, full, gray, and 
 luminous, and keen as an eagle's. 
 
 " Soldiers, through the help of the Holy Virgin, 
 Mother of God, we have ere this, at all times conquered 
 our heretic foe. To-day we will annihilate him. In 
 her name yesterday we fasted. To-day we celebrate 
 her feast. So then in the Virgin's name, let us bravely 
 fight and conquer her enemies." 
 
 Shouts and the clash of arms proved that he had 
 touched* the right chord in the hearts of those simple 
 warriors, for whom the middle ages had by no means 
 passed away, but who were still as devout, and in the 
 old way, as their forefathers of the days of the Crusaders. 
 
 With banners waving, war-pipes screaming, Mac- 
 Dermot and his 600 marched swiftly into the 
 
BAtfLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 14 1 
 
 mountains. Rain still fell, but not heavily. After 
 him, at a slower pace, followed Brian Ogue and his 
 mailed gallowgiasses, over whom waved the O'Rourke 
 banner, showing the lions of the house of Breffney 
 surmounted by a mailed hand grasping a dagger. As 
 MacDermot and Brian Ogue disappeared, folded away 
 and hidden in the hollows of the hills, Red Hugh and 
 his host also advanced till they reached a point at which 
 Clifford's progress might best be obstructed.* The 
 point selected by Red Hugh for fighting the battle of 
 the Curlew Mountains, was one where cavalry could 
 not operate, and where his flanks could not be turned. 
 He sent his war-horses to the rear and dismounted his 
 lancers, for he was resolved to put his whole strength 
 into the contest at this selected point. Here he was 
 rejoined by the 300 whom he had previously planted 
 as a guard upon that unused and circuitous road, and 
 where their presence was no longer necessary. Having 
 made all his dispositions, he and his chief officers rode 
 forward in the track of MacDermot and Brian Ogue, 
 to see how matters fared in the hills, whence probably 
 sounds of firing already came. 
 
 Red Hugh expected that he would be soon rejoined 
 by his skirmishers, falling back before Clifford's 
 advance. 
 
 * The name of this place was, Dunaveeragh. In one account 
 of Red Hugh's speech, he is represented as concluding with 
 these words — " The congregation at the altar will make way 
 for you, murmuring ' This is a man who fought at Duna- 
 veeragh.' " 
 
142 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 CLIFFORD ENTERS THE CURLEWS. 
 
 To return to Clifford. The three deserting McS weenies 
 arriving at Boyle informed their dear lord, Sir Miler, 
 that the Curlews were undefended, Hugh Roe having 
 marched back to camp. Sir Miler brought the news 
 to Clifford. Clifford sent out the necessary orders, and 
 presently all Boyle rang with the sound of bugles and 
 the noise of military preparation. The tired soldiers 
 had to buckle on their war-gear again and face once 
 more the raging elements. 
 
 Soon the whole army, horse, foot, and carriages 
 were again upon the road. The walls and turrets of 
 monastic Boyle were left behind and Clifford's host 
 rolled along the great road leading into Ulster across 
 the Curlews, men and horses plodding wearily forward 
 through the miry ways and driving rain. Clifford, by 
 Sir Miler's advice, avoided the unfrequented w r ay which 
 Red Hugh had beset with 300 men. At the foot of 
 the Curlews he bade Markham halt with the horse in 
 a green pasture. Day now dawned, not rosy-fingered, 
 but wet exceedingly. 
 
 It was about this time that at the other side of the 
 Curlew Mountains the conviction arose in a certain 
 red head there that Clifford would not march that day. 
 The army now began to ascend the Curlews in three 
 divisions. The vanguard was commanded by Sir 
 Alexander Ratcliffe, son of the Earl of Sussex, the 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. I43 
 
 battle, i.e. the strong central division by Clifford him- 
 self. The rear-guard was brought up under Sir Arthur 
 Savage, captain of a Norman-Irish nation of the 
 county of Down. 
 
 About a quarter of a mile from the mouth of the 
 passage Katcliffe came upon " a barricado with double 
 flanckes," in fact the woody obstruction at which Red 
 Hugh had intended to dispute the passage of the Cur- 
 lews.* There were a few sentries there who discharged 
 their muskets and fled. The place was practically 
 undefended. Opening a passage through the barricado 
 Sir Conyers placed guards upon the same with instruc- 
 tions not to stir until they should hear from him again, 
 which they never did. On the right flank of the 
 half-ript barricado he put Lieutenant Rogers and his 
 company, on the left Ralph Constable, an officer held 
 in high and deserved honour " for his virtue." Not 
 far from Constable and on the same flank he posted 
 Captain Walter Flood and Captain Windsor. Each 
 of these captains had 40 men. There were 160 in all, 
 Ralph Constable being chief in command. Should 
 the army suffer a disaster in the mountains the 
 Governor believed that Constable would hold the 
 
 * Sir John Harrington in one of his letters says tKit on his 
 return to England he will hold his own with any the loudest 
 captain and talk as well as he about barricadoes, cazemets, 
 &c, &c, and truly in the Irish journal which he kept there is a 
 bewildering maze of uncouth military phraseology thrown in 
 I believe with humorous intent. 
 
144 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 half barricaded gap and check the onrush of the 
 pursuers. He was a prudent general and looked 
 behind as well as before. 
 
 Having made these sensible arrangements, Clifford 
 led his army into the heart of the Curlews. The 
 Curlews are not so much mountains as great bleak 
 highlands of a boggy character like nearly all Irish 
 highlands and hills, a fact which accounts for the 
 softness and rounded beauty of our mountain 
 scenery. Presently, still ascending, the army came 
 upon a great expanse of brown moorland looked down 
 on by distant hills. A gray road traversed the bog and 
 at the further end stopped short suddenly in a green 
 wood. The wood blocked the view northwards. 
 Clifford could not tell what was going on at the other 
 side of that wood. The road was not straight but 
 swerved considerably, resembling a well bent bow. It 
 was bordered by some ground moderately firm, studded 
 with yellow furze whence its name Bohar-boy or the 
 Yellow Road. As string to this bent bow there ran 
 straight across the bog a sort of causeway, not exactly 
 a way, but more of the nature of firm ground, rough 
 and obstructed. Its course was traceable by the eye, 
 for it was greener than the surrounding bog. This 
 causeway leaving the regular road at a certain point 
 north of the barricado fell in again with the road well 
 on this side of the wood; let the reader remember this 
 rough causeway intersecting the bend of the road. 
 The army went by the road advancing as before in 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAIN?. I 45 
 
 three separate divisions. Sir Alexander Ratcliffe was 
 
 in the van, Clifford in the battle, Sir Arthur S 
 leading the rear column. Carts and horses, mules 
 and garrans bearing panniers filled the spaces between 
 the columns. Here in fact went the baggage, ammuni- 
 tion, and provisions. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 RATCLIFFE CLEARS THE BOHAR-BOY 
 WOOD. 
 
 So over the vast brown bog the Royalist army, minus 
 the cavalry, wound its way slowly towards the wood. 
 Below them lay Constable and his 160 guarding the 
 barricado. Below these, again, Clifford's cavalry took 
 their ease at the foot of the hills southwards. The 
 passage of the Curlews was not yet achieved nor a point 
 reached at which horse could be anything but a danger 
 and encumbrance. 
 
 It was now morning. The pouring rain of the pre- 
 vious night gradually ceased, the sky cleared, and the 
 sun rose. The peasantry who from the hills watched 
 the army saw the glittering of armour and weapons 
 with thoughts friendly or hostile as the Queen's host 
 slowly threaded the brown bog curving round towards 
 the wood where all believed that the battle of the 
 Curlew Mountains would now be lost or won. 
 
 As the atmosphere cleared the picturesqueness of 
 the scenery became observable, lit up now in the light 
 
 K 
 
146 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 of the rising sun. Hills stood well defined against the 
 blue of the sky. Bits of primeval forest showed here 
 and there. The heather which still clothes these moun- 
 tain sides was purpling with the advance of autumn, 
 but had not yet assumed its deepest hues. Swollen 
 by last night's pouring rain mountain streams flashed 
 white in the distance. The Curlew Mountains, how- 
 ever, though picturesque, are not imposing and hardly 
 deserve the name. 
 
 Such was the scene amid which the Queen's host 
 advanced curving round by that bent road and 
 approaching the wood which bounded the vast brown 
 bog on the north. Flocks of crying curlews, scared 
 by the sound and glitter, rose here and there, settling 
 down at greater distances. All eyes were now fixed on 
 the wood. It was obviously the next point, and Sir 
 Conyers thought the last point at which the passage 
 of the Curlews could be disputed with any advantage 
 to the northerns. 
 
 All believed that this wood was filled with Red 
 Hugh's w T arriors, and that the battle would be fought 
 amid its depths. It was August 14th, and here as else- 
 where autumn was laying a fiery finger on the leaves, 
 upon the mountain ash chiefly, a tree very common in 
 primeval Irish woods — also the first which yields 
 itself to autumnal painting. Nor were Clifford's con- 
 jectures quite wrong, though too far from quite right. 
 As Ratcliffe approached the wood the still quiet 
 groves of it became suddenly alive. From some half 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 147 
 
 thousand matchlocks scattered along its edge, each 
 gunman there posted well behind a protecting tree, 
 tongues of fire flashed out through the leaves and 
 scrub, bullets of lead and iron began to rain into 
 Ratcliffe, and smoke concealed all greenery. Hoarse 
 voices in Gaelic shouted words of command, for 
 here was The MacDermot with Red Hugh's 600 
 arquebus men, archers, and musqueteers. The battle 
 of the Curlew Mountains had begun. 
 
 Forthwith Ratcliffe formed his column for attack, 
 light troops forward, gallowglasses behind, and 
 plunged into the smoke regardless of the fast- flashing 
 tongues and the raining bullets. The firing suddenly 
 ceased. If there was any fighting it was mostly hand- 
 to-hand and unseen amid the trees. I believe there 
 was not much. As bold Ratcliffe and his men with a 
 shout plunged into and through the wood, firing as 
 they went, MacDermot and his men began to pour 
 out at the other side. 
 
 Although the wood might have been successfully 
 maintained had Red Hugh concentrated all his forces 
 there in time, it was not maintainable by such strength 
 as MacDermot had at his command. I may mention 
 here casually that Boyle had been the capital of the 
 MacDermot nation till fierce Bingham took it from 
 them, and, the Queen being agreeable, conferred it 
 upon himself, and that the Monastery was a founda- 
 tion of the same family. So MacDermot had in this 
 war something to fight for beyond glory. MacDermot, 
 
148 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 however, could not hold the wood. He fell back, 
 he and his gunmen, retreating upon Brian Ogue, 
 who also with his gallowglasses fell back northwards 
 and nearer to Red Hugh's camp, far enough, at 
 least, not to subject themselves to any very deadly 
 fire on the part of Ratcliffe's men, who now emerged, 
 cheering, on the northern borders of the same, pro- 
 bably sending thence a volley by way of military fare- 
 well into MacDermot's rear. Ratcliffe had cleared out 
 the Bohar-boy wood in fine style, opening up, so far, 
 the passage of the Curlews. From the wood, which 
 was half a mile in depth, the road still running north- 
 wards and Collooneywards, now traversed another 
 brown bog, and along this moving off leisurely and 
 in good order Ratcliffe saw MacDermot and 
 the expelled gunmen retreating in the wake of 
 Brian Ogue of the Battle-Axes and his small 
 but formidable-looking cohort of mailed gallow- 
 glasses trailing their long battle-axes. Beaten so far 
 were the northerns, but obviously not beaten to flight. 
 Genial Homer would have pictured MacDermot and 
 Brian Ogue as two raw-devouring lions beaten off from 
 the cattle fold, but retreating slowly, looking around 
 and askance, not being at all terrified in their minds. 
 In such wise did Brian Ogue of the long-shadowed 
 battle-axe and MacDermot of the loud war-cry yield 
 before to the fierce onrush of the Mac-an-Iarla.* 
 
 * Ratcliffe was son of the Earl of Sussex. The Irish at this 
 time had a great respect for Mac-an-Iarlas 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 1 49 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 BUT FINDS THAT THE BOG MUST BE 
 FOUGHT FOR. 
 
 As soon as Clifford learned that Red Hugh's people 
 had been driven out of the wood and that the way was 
 cleared, he despatched a messenger with orders to 
 Markham to bring up the horse. He, the messenger? 
 aide-de-camp as we would now say, rode along the 
 curving road through the first bog past Ralph Constable 
 and his detachment who guarded the barricado? 
 communicating to them the glad news, and so fared 
 downwards and southwards to that green pasture, 
 where the horses were grazing and the men were 
 strolling about or sitting on their big military saddles 
 the ground being so wet. 
 
 But we must hasten back to more exciting scenes, 
 noting only that at this time Markham and the Queen's 
 horse began to get under way. Meantime the in- 
 vading army was traversing the dangerous Bohar-boy 
 wood which had been so gallantly cleared by Ratcliffe 
 and the vanguard. 
 
 Here for half a mile the solid slow wheels groaned 
 and screeched and the tramp of marching men echoed 
 in the dim depths of the forest, intermingled with the 
 sharper noise of the hoofs of horses, "and the trees 
 waved above them their green leaves " sparsely touched 
 with fire and gold " dewy with nature's tears-drops as 
 they passed." Through this half mile of primeval 
 
I50 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 forest rolled the army, a scene of sylvan loveliness and 
 beauty through which Destiny had determined that it 
 should, roll again not so harmoniously. Savage and 
 the rear guard were probably still among the trees 
 when the sound of fresh firing in front proved that 
 Ratcliffe and the van were again engaged with the 
 enemy, opening up a mile or two more of the wild 
 road through the Curlews. The army as it emerged 
 from the wood observed the same order of advance. 
 Ratcliffe with his gunmen and light troops still in the 
 van. The road now traversed another bog, bare too, 
 save that there was on the eastern side, that to 
 Ratcliffe's right, another wood lying rather further than 
 a calyver's shot from the road. Upon this road Mac 
 Dermot's men were still in view and also as Ratcliffe 
 soon perceived deploying for fight, " not being at all ter- 
 rified in their minds." The left wing of MacDermot's 
 little army abutted on and was protected by the wood, 
 His right leaned upon the hill side, for the road at this 
 point skirted the mountain. The bog-plain sloped 
 from right to left.- MacDermot's right so leaned upon 
 high and rugged ground, and his left upon the wood a 
 necessary arrangement, seeing that otherwise he, being 
 of inferior strength, would be out-flanked and compelled 
 to retreat even without shot fired. The ground upon 
 which MacDermot deployed, though described as bog, 
 was yet notwithstanding consistent enough for fighting 
 purposes. Ratcliffe also drew out his men and dis- 
 posed them in fighting order. There was no opportunity 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 151 
 
 for manceuvering or nice feats of generalship. It was 
 a fair and even duel between the gunmen of both 
 armies. MacDermot's men had the advantage of 
 the ground, for they were more inured to fighting in 
 such an element than regular troops. Ratcliffe's, on 
 the other hand, were superior in numbers and furnished 
 probably with a better style of weapon. Moreover, 
 MacDermot's six hundred were not all gunmen. With 
 them were interspersed bowmen, Scots for the most 
 part, Red Hugh's maternal kindred, and javelin-men 
 who hurled their spears exactly like the warriors of the 
 Iliad, casting with great force and accuracy to an ex- 
 traordinary distance. Remember, too, that Elizabethan 
 fire-arms were very different towards ours. Good 
 armour could resist the impact of their bullets and 
 their range was very short. So javelin-men, Homeric 
 spear-casters trained from childhood to the practice of 
 the art, were of considerable service when the opposing 
 ranks come into some relative nearness. 
 
 Behind Ratcliffe's fast deploying men the rest of the 
 Royalist army stood " refused," waiting till he should 
 disperse this obstruction and clear the way once 
 more. Immediately behind him was the first division 
 of the convoy, then the main battle under the Presi- 
 dent, then the second convoy, after which Savage and 
 the rear guard still struggling through the Bohar-boy 
 wood. 
 
I52 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 FIGHT ON THE BOG SIDE. 
 
 It was eleven of the clock, a clear and bright forenoon, 
 all nature well washed and glittering from the heavy 
 rainfall of the preceding night. 
 
 Now began in right earnest the conflict which is 
 called the Battle of the Curlew Mountains. Many a 
 battle had been fought upon this famous road as far 
 back as the bright semi-fabulous epoch of Queen 
 Meave, and far beyond. By this road Ulster invaded 
 Connaught, and Connaught, Ulster. Here defenders 
 had the advantage, and many a fierce conflict had 
 been fought and won upon these brown bogs. The 
 great John de Courcy, and his ally Cathal, Red- 
 Hand,* passed this way to fight William Fitz Adelm 
 de Burgh, patriarch of all the Irish Burkes. By this 
 road, too, a son of the Red-Hand, fleeing before the 
 face of the children of William, once lifted all his 
 people bodily out of Connaught, seeking shelter with 
 Red Hugh's ancestors. Many a famous march and 
 battle had been enacted in these celebrated moun- 
 tains, which now for the first time rang with the 
 thunder of modern weapons of war. So the descriptive 
 energy of our "Four Masters" is not quite so re- 
 dundant and uncalled for as we might imagine, when 
 
 * " Cahal Mor, of the Wine- Red Hand," into whose heart 
 God hath breathed more piety and virtue than into any of the 
 Irish of his time." — Four Masters, 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. I53 
 
 they pause amid their fasti to supply a picture of this 
 new form of martial terror : — 
 
 "As to the vanguard " — Ratcliffe's gunmen — " they 
 kept on advancing till they met the foreign batta- 
 lions," Red Hugh's Tir-Connallians under MacDermot. 
 " When they came close together, MacDermot's men 
 cast forth at them a destructive pouring rain of their 
 well-shaped ashen spears : flights of sharp-pointed 
 arrows shot from their long, strong and effective bows, 
 and thick volleys of red flaming flashes and of hot 
 fiery balls of lead from their perfectly straight and 
 sure-aiming guns.* These shooting volleys were 
 answered by Ratcliffe's warriors, and their reports 
 and echoes and resounding thunders were heard 
 in woods and in waters, and in the castles and 
 stone buildings of all surrounding territories. 
 Marvellous that the weak-hearted, yea, and the 
 brave, too, did not flee from the conflict, hear- 
 ing such battle-clangour, and the thunderings and 
 echoings of that powerful firing, for on both sides 
 champions were pierced and heroes slain." 
 
 Mark here, as elsewhere, the beautiful impartiality 
 of our noble " Four Masters." Few, if any, historians 
 
 * I believe it is to this battle that Mangan refers in his poem 
 of " The Dark Rosaleen," when he puts the following words 
 into Red Hugh's mouth : — 
 
 " And gun-peal and slogan-cry 
 Wake many a glen serene 
 Ere you shall fade, ere you shall die 
 My dark Rosaleen." 
 
154 BATTLE OF TH|E CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 ever rivalled them in generosity and magnanimity, 
 such their heroic love of heroism, of manly or womanly 
 virtue, no matter what its origin or the cause in which 
 it was exhibited. The Protestant and the Catholic, 
 the Englishman and the Irishman, the Milesian chief, 
 and Norman-Irish noble, or English courtier fresh 
 from the Queen's smiles — all in strict proportion to 
 their worth or unworth — are stigmatized or praised 
 in their pure and ardent pages. Modern historians of 
 that temper we need, and I hope yet will have as 
 magnanimous, as just, and as veracious as that famous 
 mediaeval Four. 
 
 The Royalist vanguard, now well deployed, soon 
 settled down steadily to their warlike work — steadily, 
 though the nature of the ground was anything but 
 favourable to straight shooting, and many a brave 
 soldier, as he levelled his piece, found it hard even 
 to keep his feet in the yielding soil. Under the eyes 
 of the President and the whole army, Ratcliffe's men 
 deployed, took rank, and fired ; loaded, advanced, and 
 fired again, ever advancing and ever firing, and the 
 Tir-Connallians, spite their showers of arrows and 
 spears, and the " thick volleys of red-flaming flashes" 
 with which they responded, began to fall back, their 
 steady ranks wavering, trembling, as it were, towards 
 breakage and dispersion. The men had not expected 
 that they would be required to fight a outrance with 
 Clifford's whole army now fast emerging from the 
 wood, and getting into position behind their van- 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 155 
 
 guard. They believed, and no doubt rightly believed, 
 that their commander's instructions had been to fight 
 and fall back, and expected momentarily to hear the 
 bugles sing retreat. But MacDermot perceived that 
 his handful might even so, by determined valour, defeat 
 and destroy all Clifford's army. Could he but beat 
 Ratcliffe and the vanguard, and drive them back in 
 confusion upon the convoy, and then double up the 
 convoy and the vanguard together upon the battle, 
 what might not happen in such obstructed ground to 
 an army left bare of its horse and encumbered with 
 its own weight ? At all events he saw his opportunity, 
 and would not have the bugles sing retreat at all, but 
 advance if anything, and the war-pipes shriek only 
 battle and onfall. Nothing loath, the pipers stepped 
 out and piped. 
 
 They were brave men, these pipers. The modern 
 military band retires as its regiment goes into action. 
 But the piper went on before his men and piped them 
 into the thick of battle. He advanced, sounding his 
 battle-pibroch, and stood in the ranks of war while 
 men fell round him. Derrick in his " Image of Ire- 
 land," about this date, gives a wood-cut representing a 
 battle. In the fore-front of the Irish lies a slain figure 
 reflecting little credit on the artist, but under which 
 Derrick writes "pyper," well aware that the fall of the 
 musician was an event of importance second only to 
 that of a considerable officer. So in the State papers 
 we often read such entries as this : " Slew Hugh, son 
 
156 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 of Hugh, twenty-five of his men, and two pipers." 
 "Slew Art O'Connor and his piper." A bastard 
 brother of Black Thomas of Ormond gives a long list 
 name by name of the rebels whom he slew. Divers 
 pipers are specially mentioned, and in such a manner 
 as to indicate that the slayer was particularly proud 
 of such achievements. 
 
 So here upon the brown bog Red Hugh's pipers 
 stood out beyond their men sounding wild and high 
 the battle-pibrochs of the north with hearts and hands 
 brave as any in the wild work, and the bugles sang only 
 battle, rang battle, onfall and victory in men's hearts 
 and ears, and the awful music of the oaths out-sang 
 all other sounds, out-pealed the bugle-calls and battle 
 pibrochs, the thundering of the captains rose above 
 the thundering of the guns. Up and down, to and 
 fro ran these, adjuring and menacing, striking and 
 beating back the runaways. Hither and thither w T ith 
 swords drawn ran the Irish officers, MacDermot, lord 
 of the Curlews, and Red Hugh's foster-brother, 
 McSweenyof the Battle- Axes, and the two O'Gallaghers, 
 Eocha and Tully. To and fro, up and down the 
 wavering ranks they rushed thundering abuse, pro- 
 testations, and many a fierce Irish oath and curse ; 
 raising high the sacred name of Mary. Mary, not 
 O'Donnell a-boo seems to have been the war-cry that 
 day. Behind the wavering gunmen stood the lower- 
 ing mailed figure of the young Oxonian, Brian Ogue 
 and his century and a half of ranked gallowglasses, 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 157 
 
 their long weapons levelled, not likely to show cowards 
 any mercy. Silent and steady they stood to rear of all the 
 battle-clangour and confusion, a mass, though a small 
 one, of valour educated and trained to the point of 
 perfection ; clad in complete steel, ready to go on or 
 go back at a word from their young chieftain, not at 
 all ready to loose rank in either movement — flower 
 of the Brennymen, "very great scorners of death. " 
 And again rear-ward upon some eminence stood 
 famous Red Hugh, if we could only contrive to see 
 him, with his blue flashing eyes and notorious fiery 
 locks escaped from the helmet and falling on his 
 mailed shoulders, his countenance which " no one 
 could see without loving," not now soft, bright and 
 amiable as the Four Masters beheld it when they 
 were boys, but stern and minatory. Somewhere far 
 off stood Red Hugh with his brothers, brave Rory, 
 afterwards Earl, one of the two who made the Flight 
 of the Earls and closed a great chapter of Irish history \ 
 and Manus the well-beloved, who was to die at home 
 in Tir-Connall, slain by the hand of his own rough 
 cousin Nial Garf; and Cath-barr, " Top of Battle," 
 youngest of the famous four. 
 
 Then near at hand, just in the rear of the fighting 
 men, rode O'Rourke's bard, and MacDermot's, and 
 Red Hugh's as close as they might to the field of 
 battle, noting who were the brave and who the re- 
 creant. The public entertain a very false notion of 
 the mediaeval bard. They picture him as an old bent 
 
158 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 man, with flowing white beard, sad, bowed down in 
 spirit, but flashing up under the influence of liquor 
 and the spfell of poetic rage, a humble wight receiving 
 gifts which were a sort of alms. Such is our modern 
 romantic conception of the bard. The real bard was 
 a high-spirited, proud, and even wealthy man, chief 
 of a sept, and lord of extensive estates, holding the 
 same by right and not by grace. If he received gifts 
 and favours he gave them, and his well-replenished 
 house was open to all comers. He was a gentleman, 
 and ranked with the best. When he went abroad 
 he was as well mounted and attended as other chiefs. 
 He had men of war to wait on him, though he himself 
 wore no arms, and never fought, for fighting was not 
 his function but the causing of others to fight well. 
 He carried no harp, and no orphan boy carried one 
 for him, and though he made poems and knew poems 
 by the hundred, he was no reciter. He went to the 
 wars as an observer and watcher, and men feared 
 him. Somewhere, I say, in the neighbourhood of the 
 battle such bards, mounted on fleet steeds, watched 
 the progress of the fray, noting who were the heroes 
 and who the poltroons. And still in the brown bog 
 the captains thundered and the bugles rang battle, 
 and the banners waved defiance and advance, and the 
 war-pipes sounded their shrillest and maddest, the 
 brave pipers standing out well in advance of the 
 fighters. Again, through the hearts of the wavering 
 Tir Connallians the fading battle-fire blazed out anew ; 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAIN-. I 59 
 
 again, with firm mien and unbroken ranks they stood 
 steady to their war-work and hurled their rain of spears 
 and arrows, and levelled and fired their "perfectly 
 straight and sure-aiming guns " upon the advancing 
 Royalists. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 MacDERMOT BREAKS THE BATTLE ON 
 THE QUEENS HOST. 
 
 Once again Red Hugh's men stood steady and 
 unwavering under the Royalist fire, returning the same 
 and with interest. The Royalists had had a long and 
 wet march, and were not in such good condition as 
 Red Hugh's fresh and well breakfasted troops. Now 
 in their turn they too began to slack fire, to waver in 
 their ranks, and finally to retreat upon the pike men, 
 probably throwing them too into disorder. The Tir- 
 Connallians pressing forward began to rain their 
 bullets into the dense ranks of the Queen's gallow. 
 glasses of the first division, who had neither cavalry 
 or musketeers to sweep back their assailants. So the 
 latter at their ease poured volley after volley upon the 
 unresisting mass. 
 
 RatclifTe seeing that his gun-men were now beaten 
 past the rally sought to organise a charge of his gallow- 
 glasses, crying loudly that he would head the charge 
 himself, calling all true men to follow, and even sum- 
 
l6o EATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 moning individuals by name oat of the wavering and 
 confused ranks. Meantime the "plumbei pilluli" * of 
 Red Hugh's " fulminators " were pouring into the 
 struggling crowd out of which Ratcliffe sought to dis- 
 engage the braver elements and fashion a forlorn. 
 Having in some sort compassed his purpose, though 
 already suffering from a shot in the face, he was leading 
 them on "with unconquerable resolution " when his leg 
 was broken by a gun-shot which brought him to a 
 sudden halt. So while the blood of his first wound 
 ran down his face, stood Ratcliffe supported in the 
 arms of two of his offrcers,tand in this situation roared 
 to Henry Cosby, J who seems to have been next in 
 command, directing him to lead the charge, but per- 
 ceiving him slack and as he was being withdrawn out 
 of fire he called anew to his lieutenant. " I see, Cosby, 
 that I must leave thee to thy baseness, but will tell 
 thee ere I go that it were better for thee to die by the 
 hands of thy countrymen than at my return to perish 
 by my sword."§ But Cosby went not on. He was son 
 
 * Philip O'Sullivan, author of these expressions, usually men- 
 tions bullets as glandes. He writes of iron bullets sometimes. 
 Musketeers he latinizes as bombardarii, muskets as bombards. 
 Pistols are bombardulce. Fulminatores, he uses, I think, for 
 shooters of all kinds. 
 
 f One of them, Godred Tyrwhit, brother of Robert Tyrwhit 
 of Ketleby in Lincolnshire. 
 
 % He had command of a third part of the vanguard. 
 
 § Here we learn a remarkable fact, viz., that the Cosbies were 
 Irish ; let those who set down Mullaghmast to the debtor side of 
 England's account remember this. 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. l6l 
 
 of Francis Cosby of Stradbally Hall in O'More's 
 country, Cosby of the decorated tree, and brother of 
 Alexander who (as it was surmised) so cleverly dodged 
 the wild cutting and slashing of Rory Ogue by using 
 his comrade as a shield. Cosby came not on but the 
 Tir-Connallians did. They drew close, archers, cross- 
 bowmen, spear-casters and gunmen, ranked before 
 this jammed mob of soldiers, and slaughtered at their 
 leisure, while flaming Ratcliffe was being carried to 
 the rear, and cowardly Cosby "showed slackness "in 
 leading the forlorn Jwhich his brave commander had 
 disengaged and fashioned out of the clubbed vanguard. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 THE BRENNY MEN LET LOOSE. 
 
 This was the moment for a cavalry charge which 
 under such conditions would have cut the vanguard to 
 ribbons. But cavalry there were none on either sider 
 Neither Clifford nor Red Hugh would trust their 
 precious cavalry in those bogs and obstructions. But 
 in the rear of Mac Dermot's men there was something 
 as good, better in such ground as this. Here in shin- 
 ing ranks stood O'Rourke's Brenny men standing at 
 their ease watching the fray, waiting for one word from 
 their chief. At last the word came, literally a word. 
 Brian Ogue, in tones not familiar to the class-rooms 
 
1 62 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 of Oxford, where not long since Brian Ogue of the 
 Battle- Axes O'Rourke did nonsense verses or boggled 
 over the mysteries of Barbara, Fe lap ion, Darii Ferioqae 
 priores and the irregular verbs of Lily's Latin grammar,* 
 shouted Farragh. " Farragh," he cried now, not Ferio, 
 and like hounds slipped from the leash, O'Rourke's 
 Brenny men w r ent upon the Queen's vanguard. Only 
 1 60, but mailed gallowglasses, picked men and strong, 
 the flower of Breffney, all in rank perfectly fresh, 
 eager as hounds certain of victory. MacDermot's 
 gunmen and archers gave way to the right hand and 
 the left, opening out like folding-doors as the Brenny- 
 men with a shout which at such an instant changed 
 fortitude to alarm and alarm to panic terror, went 
 upon the foe. 
 
 The battle harvest was ripe and these were the 
 reapers; ripened, if I may say so, by that rain of darts 
 and spears and heat of " red-flaming flashes " and fiery 
 balls of lead. Guess how coward Cosby, who showed 
 slackness in charging the gunmen, met this forward- 
 sweeping w r ave of steel, with its crest of glittering axes. 
 Cosby and his forlorn quickly fell back as if there were 
 any hope in demoralized numbers, terrified yet more 
 by the retreat of the only corps which still showed 
 some rudiments of formation. The vanguard was hope- 
 
 * " It was ordered that no Latin grammar but Lily's should be 
 taught in this kingdom," in order to assimilate the instruction of 
 youth in the two countries, a.d. 1587. — " Sir James Ware's 
 Annals." 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 163 
 
 lessly clubbed, gunmen and halberdiers inextricably 
 •entangled. Nor at this juncture had they a leader to 
 disentwine the tangle and pull the lines straight and 
 distinct. The vanguard was captainless, reduced to 
 that disastrous state by Ratcliffe's broken leg and 
 Cosby's lily heart Brave men, surely abundant enough 
 even now in this wild moment, had no chance, mobbed, 
 overborne by the cowards unable to find each other 
 out in the press and stand together disengaged from 
 the ruck. What chance ever have the brave left 
 captainless — what fate but to be trampled down by the 
 fools and cowards ? Had that random bullet but 
 spared their captain's shank-bone things might have 
 been so different. Were he at this moment to return 
 as he had promised, and, as he had promised, run his 
 blade through Cosby for a swift and salutary beginning, 
 he, standing clear of the chaos, would have gathered 
 all these to himself, crying to them in general and call- 
 ing men by their names. But the Mac-an-Iarla was 
 well on his way to the rear now. Brave Ratcliffe was 
 gone and Cosby's lily heart struck work while his 
 shaking knees were already turning to flight and the 
 vanguard was hopelessly clubbed and the yelled 
 "Farragh' v of the Brennymen clove all ears and hearts. 
 To left and right MacDermot and his gunmen 
 opened out like double doors unfolding as Brian Ogue 
 went into the Queen's vanguard. To left and right 
 they opened and now poured in their fire transversely 
 on either flank of the struggling mass, while in front 
 
1 64 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 Brian Ogue and his reapers fell to the despatch of their 
 red work. A moment the raised axes, razor-sharp and 
 bright, glistened in the sun, then fell ringing with dry 
 clangour or more horribly silent, rising not so bright,, 
 rising and falling like lightning, such a war harvest to- 
 be reaped, such battle-fury in men's hearts, and such 
 an opportunity ! 
 
 And on the flanks MacDermot volleyed transversely,, 
 and soon his spear-hurlers clutched sword and fell on, 
 and the gunmen slung the slow calyver, gripped sword- 
 hilt and did likewise. 
 
 Not long the struggle under such conditions. Back 
 rolled the vanguard, back on the battle where Clifford 
 was ranking his men and making his dispositions, 
 seeing how matters went in front. Back rolled the 
 vanguard, effusing afar their own panic, back in the 
 first instance on the forward convoy. Here the peas- 
 ants cut their wagon traces, mounted and ran, and the 
 trains of mules and pack horses stampeded, and amid 
 this confusion the flying vanguard tumbled into through 
 and over the battle, while brave Clifford did all that 
 man could do to stem the raging flood, and MacDer- 
 mot's prophetic soul was justified by the event. He 
 had doubled back the vanguard and the first convoy 
 upon the battle. And the battle too was broken and 
 rolled back on the second convoy and the rear -guard. 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 1 65 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 CLIFFORD'S HEROIC DEATH. 
 
 At this moment a cry arose: "The President is 
 dead ! " The President had gone down in the midst 
 of the raging flood but he was not killed. His horse 
 was shot, and he had fallen. He was soon on his feet 
 again roaring commands and encouragements to his 
 own men so far as they were still rational beings, en- 
 deavouring in vain to restore the fight, commanding, 
 entreating, doing all that a brave man could do. 
 M There had not come of the English into Ireland in 
 the latter days a better man." 
 
 Seeing the day utterly ■ lost, two of his Irish 
 officers, the lieutenant of Captain Burke, name not 
 given, and Sir Miler McSweeny urged him to leave 
 the field. "Overcome with wrath and shame, he de- 
 clared, Roman-like, that he would not overlive that 
 day's ignominy. But that affection which moved 
 Sir Miler McSweeny to use entreatyes persuaded him 
 now to practiz force, by which they caryed him from 
 the pursewing rebells some few paces, when enraged 
 Tvith the vildness of his men, which he often repeated, 
 he brake from them in a fury, and turning head alone, 
 made head to the whole troopes of pursewers, in the 
 midst of whom when he was stroake through the bodye 
 
1 66 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 with a bullet* he died fighting, consecrating by an 
 admyrable resolucion the memory of his name to 
 immortality and leaving the example of his vertue 
 to be intytuled by all honourable posterities." t 
 
 Yet, even after Clifford's death his division or parts, 
 of it rallied and fought on. Savage and the rear- 
 guard managed to keep their ranks while the roar- 
 ing deluge of flight and panic terror raged past 
 them. There was tough fighting, or at all events- 
 resistance of some sort, after the fall of Clifford, 
 and before the best materials of the Queen's host gave 
 way utterly, and the rout became universal. Savage, 
 I feel sure, played a brave part ; I should be much 
 surprised if he did not, for gallantry was in his blood. 
 Four centuries had elapsed since the founder of the 
 clan Savage marched from Dublin with the great 
 John de Courcy and a handful of Norman knights 
 and archers to the conquest of Ulster, and did con- 
 quer Ulster. And de Courcy planted the Savage in 
 
 * Dymok says by a pike. He was slain by a bullet ; the pike- 
 thrust was given afterwards as the victors ran past. The account 
 given by the Four Masters is doubtless correct. Sir Miler 
 lived afterwards in Tir-Connall, where he must have related to- 
 many the exact manner of Clifford's death. In Tir-Connall the 
 Annals were written, and quite possibly the Four Masters knew 
 Sir Miler and talked with him. 
 
 t Philip O 'Sullivan says that he offered these gentlemen great 
 rewards if they would see him safe out of the battle, and that he 
 fled a considerable distance. This is absurd. Dymok's account 
 is more in keeping with all that we know about this brave and 
 chivalrous gentleman. 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 1 67 
 
 the north of Dal-Aradia* as one of his barons, and 
 there for four centuries, while houses rose and fell, 
 many a wild storm of war, Edward Bruce's invasion 
 amongst them, broke upon but broke not this hardy 
 Norman-Irish clan. They were Queen's men now, 
 and Sir Arthur was their most distinguished repre- 
 sentative. He served the Crown in honourable posts 
 after this rout in the Curlews, and behaved with gal- 
 lantry and distinction in the Battle of Kinsale in 
 i6o2.f Savage, surely, like Clifford and Rat- 
 cliffe, did his best to save the battle, but at last 
 all broke and fled, Brian Ogue's battle-axes going 
 like smith's hammers or the flails of threshing-men on 
 their rear and MacDermot volleying from right to left, 
 and all solid companies getting broken up and swept 
 away by the torrents of panic-stricken humanity. So 
 at last the whole of the Queen's host was reduced to 
 chaos, streaming madly away, and the battle of the 
 Curlew Mountains was fought and lost and won. On 
 rushed the fugitives, disappearing not too rapidly 
 within that half mile of Autumnal forest. The road 
 was choked with baggage- waggons, provisions, camp- 
 furniture, impedimenta of various kinds, and the 
 running masses of men collided and jostled against 
 each other and the trees, as the Royalists re-travelled 
 these primeval solitudes, while battle-axe and sword 
 and calyver and pistol played ever on their rear. 
 
 * Co. Down. 
 
 t Pacata Hibemia, last chapters, where his name is several 
 times mentioned with honour. 
 
1 68 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 MARKHAM STRIKES IN WITH THE 
 QUEEN'S HORSEMEN. 
 
 As the runaways emerged from the southern fringes of 
 the forest a sight was presented fit to recall to a sense 
 of shame and obedience to their captains the minds 
 of men not utterly frenzied and unmanned by fear. 
 Before them if they could see anything for fright lay 
 the great brown bog threaded by its narrow white road 
 gorse-fringed, and on the road the clear midday sun- 
 light glancing from bright morions and armour, the 
 Earl of Southampton's horse advancing under the 
 command of Sir Griffin Markham ; quietly, leisurely 
 following Sir Conyers under full belief that the pas- 
 sage of the Curlews had been forced, riding four or 
 five abreast along the road which wound through the 
 great bog that intervened between the wood and " the 
 barricado with doble flanckes." What a spectacle for 
 their brave commander when the wood suddenly began 
 to spout its rills and torrents of wild runaways, kerne, 
 gallowglasse, musketeers, common soldiers, and 
 officers tumbling out thence in every direction, falling 
 into peat-holes, and rising and running, the better 
 part without weapons, many tearing off and flinging 
 away their armour as they ran. 
 
 Markham, a brave man who had a head for war and 
 also an eye in his head, at a glance took in the situation 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 1 69 
 
 and decided swiftly on his course. When he first 
 witnessed the extraordinary spectacle far out in front 
 at the other side of the great bog, viz., the green wood 
 vomiting forth at a hundred points the w T hole Royalist 
 army which was to have conquered North Connaught, 
 he was not far from that "barricado with doble flanckes," 
 and advancing along the main road which swerved so 
 much, stretching across the bog like a bent bow. But 
 besides this wheel-way there was, as formerly mentioned, 
 another way more direct. 
 
 It was a mere continuity of moderately firm 
 ground, rocky and furze-strewn, solid enough for his 
 purpose, which fell in with the main road on this 
 side of the wood. Quickly taking in the situation, 
 he advanced as well as he could, and as swiftly, 
 along this rough short-cut by which the panic-stricken 
 army did not run, and which was open to his 
 use. They poor wretches, for the most part, poured 
 along and on both sides of the main road. So 
 avoiding that shameful torrent of wild humanity, he 
 and his dragoons by this short cut struck in upon the 
 main road behind them, between the runaways and the 
 pursuers. Here Markham formed his men on the 
 road and on both sides of it, the ground being firm 
 enough and charged MacDermot and his gunmen, 
 now disordered in pursuit; charged them, and also 
 broke them, cutting them down in all directions or 
 driving them into the wood and far out into the 
 wetnesses of the bog. Now was the time for Captain 
 
170 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 Burke, Sir Miler McSweeny or some other brave and 
 competent officer to take charge of that roaring flood 
 of ruin, and re-order such of its elements as were not 
 utterly demoralised ; for the pursuit was stayed, and 
 the pursuers in their turn overthrown by brave Mark- 
 ham and the cavalry. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 IS COUNTER-CHARGED BY THE OXONIAN. 
 
 Markham's spirited charge gave an opportunity of 
 converting the rout into a victory. MacDermot 
 and his gunmen were now shattered and dis- 
 persed, driven out into the bog on both sides of 
 that firm ground where Markham had charged. 
 But now while the Royalist dragoons rushed along, 
 sabring and spearing, their ranks quite disordered in 
 pursuit, and while some stood firing pistol shots at 
 the gunmen out in the bog, Markham and his horse 
 came full tilt upon a new and unexpected foe. From 
 the wood emerged Brian Ogue with his century and a 
 half of heavy-armed foot, steady, ranked, in perfect 
 order. Fearing the event, Brian Ogue kept his gallow- 
 glasse well in hand, and here, following with slow 
 deliberate foot in the rear of the kerne, emerged to 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 17I 
 
 sight. From the green forest came to sudden view 
 that formidable phalanx, their shining battle-axes 
 now dull enough. The Royalist horse were now 
 charged in front by Brian Ogue, while MacDermot's 
 gunmen closing in from the bogs fired transversely 
 through their ranks from each side. Markham and 
 the horse could not win the battle alone. Then as 
 now, horse were no match for foot that would keep 
 their ranks and decline to be frightened by mere show 
 and glitter. Charged by Brian Ogue, Markham could 
 not stand the impact of the Brenny men. Down 
 tumbled horses and their riders to the cleaving of 
 Brian Ogue's battle-axes. Markham too was utterly 
 routed, so routed that he lost "all his pennons and 
 guidons. " Brian Ogue handled the Queen's horsemen 
 that day better than I think he ever handled Lily's 
 irregular Latin verbs at Oxford. 
 
 There was another Oxford man, but of the Queen's 
 Irish in this battle, Richard Burke, Lord Dunkellin, 
 chief designate of the High Burkes. Brian Ogue 
 in this melee received two wounds, one in the hand 
 and another in the leg. Markham did not escape 
 without receiving some tokens. He had the small 
 bone of his right arm broken " with the stroake of a 
 bullet " and his clothes torn by another. 
 
 So the cavalry too broke and fled, following the 
 fugitives, and again the flood of flight and chase rolled 
 down the slopes of the Curlews. The guard so 
 prudently planted at the barricado participated in the 
 
172 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 disgraceful rout, which was perhaps the most remarkable 
 example of cowardice in this whole shameful business. 
 
 They were 160 in number and might have held the 
 pass for hours against any army unprovided with 
 artillery. Clifford had not destroyed the barricado, but 
 merely opened a passage through it. The gap was 
 narrow enough for defence and not wide enough for 
 the torrent of ruin which now sought to pour through. 
 Some wiser than the rest clambered over the rampart 
 and the bristling palisades. Most of the fugitives 
 xushed at the open passage and blocked it. But for 
 the relief afforded by Markham there would have been 
 an awful slaughter here. 
 
 Of the beaten army the Meath Irish fared worst. 
 The great mass of the army were Connaught 
 Irish, who were well acquainted with the Curlews 
 and knew good paths over the bogs and through the 
 hills. Many of their officers and lords had, I suppose, 
 been often here hawking. The Meath Irish knew 
 nothing of the country, and so thought of nothing save 
 of rushing straight along by the way they came. The 
 few English soldiers here shared their fate. They 
 were certainly few. As we have seen, Bingham had 
 purged the Connaught army of Englishmen. Bingham 
 meant no slight upon English valour which was and 
 Is as good as any in the world, but when English re- 
 cruits were scarecrows, with whom Falstaff " would not 
 march through Coventry," " a great many diseased, 
 and many mad," what other course was possible for 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. I 73 
 
 Bingham contending* for his life and honour against 
 Red Hugh, and Granuaile's son, and MacDermot of 
 the Curlews, and Brian Ogue and divers other fire- 
 breathing dragons of the West ? 
 
 These timber barriers which the Royalists had 
 passed so joyfully that morning proved now T an ob- 
 stacle to their flight. Here, those who still kept their 
 weapons flung them away, and here also quantities of 
 clothes and armour were found. The pursuers con- 
 sisted only of the 600 fulminators, now reduced to less 
 than 400, and Brian Ogue's century and a-half of 
 gallowglasses. But resistance was never thought of. 
 
 From the mountains the mingled flood of chase and 
 panic-flight rolled towards the town of Boyle, execu- 
 tion never ceasing, for Sir Griffin seems not to have 
 been able again to get his cavalry into order. Through 
 the gates of Boyle it poured, and kept pouring, till the 
 gates had to be closed against the foe. Red Hugh's 
 lieutenants and their warriors encamped that night 
 under or not far from the w r alls, and one of the most 
 remarkable battles recorded in Irish history came to an 
 end. In war there is a great deal of luck, and we may 
 observe, too, that scratch armies are admirably fitted 
 for the losing of battles. Here were Meathian Irish 
 and Connaught Irish — men one might almost de- 
 
 * These are the words of the Mayor of Chester, who received 
 and forwarded to Ireland those astonishing levies. Even in 
 great Eliza's golden time, there was an incredible amount of 
 folly at headquarters. 
 
174 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 .scribe, such was the disjointed state of the land, as 
 of different nationalities ; here veterans of the army 
 of Essex, and soldiers drawn from the garrisons ; here, 
 finally, were English soldiers mixed with Irish, and the 
 Irish for the most part not regulars, only the rising-out 
 of Meath and Connaught, that is to say, the local 
 gentry and their followers. Yet the little band of 
 conquerors was a scratch army too, so from any point 
 of view it must be accounted a most glorious victory. 
 
 The battle was won by 600 musketeers and archers, 
 and a company of BrefTneian gallowglasse. A very 
 remarkable battle in every way ; lost to the Crown 
 seemingly through the cowardice of the Royalist van- 
 guard, or shall we say, of Henry Cosby, who, we may 
 hope, got well killed. In this battle there were slain 
 of the Royalists one thousand four hundred, no 
 quarter being given. MacDermot and Brian Ogue 
 lost in killed and wounded only 240 men. The bag- 
 gage, standards, &c, and nearly all the arms of the 
 invading army, fell into the hands of the conquerors. 
 
 When in reading English history we perceive the 
 intense wrath felt in London against the Earl of Essex 
 and his conduct of the Irish wars, we must remember 
 the sense of imperial humiliation which was felt at a 
 defeat such as the foregoing sustained under his 
 government. The Nine Years' War is throughout a 
 wonder, miraculous everywhere. From beginning to 
 end the insurgent lords only lost one battle, the battle 
 of Kinsale. Yet they were beaten ! 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 175 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Brian Ogue, as stated, received two bullet wounds 
 during his victorious tussle with Markham and the 
 horse. He rode or was borne in a litter homewards tc 
 the camp along that corpse-strewn road. His scratches 
 don't seem to have troubled him much. He paused as 
 he went, scrutinizing with deliberation the bodies of 
 those who by their superior armour seemed men of 
 rank, and which were exhibited to him as he passed. 
 Amongst them he was shown the familiar features of 
 Sir Conyers Clifford, President of Connaught. He 
 knew him well. He had been to visit him on his first 
 coming into his Presidentiad, and had only been pre- 
 vented from allying himself and his Breffneian nation 
 with the Queen's cause by the stern menacing attitude 
 assumed towards him by Red Hugh. He ordered his 
 attendants to behead Clifford, and sent the head 
 forward as a trophy and token to Red Hugh. The 
 decapitation of slain foes was a universal custom of the 
 age. Had Brian Ogue fallen, Clifford would have 
 decapitated him. Among the rows of heads which 
 adorned the battlements of Dublin Castle at this 
 moment was the tarred head of Brian Ogue's own 
 father, the brave proud Brian na Murtha. Clifford's 
 head was forwarded to Red Hugh in the north ; his 
 body was conveyed south to MacDermot, to the CastJe 
 of Gaywash, hard by Boyle, where MacDermot and 
 his army were now encamped. 
 
176 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 I like Brian Ogue and am sorry, custom or no cus- 
 tom, that he ordered the decapitation of Clifford. My 
 regret has been anticipated by the Four Masters. 
 
 Red Hugh sent a swift detachment of horse with 
 Clifford's head to Collooney, to Nial Garf, his cousin 
 in command there. Nial Garf, demanding a parley 
 with the defenders of the Castle, informed Sir Donough 
 of the defeat of the Royalists, and in proof of the 
 statement exhibited the head of the slain general. 
 That was enough. Sir Donough gave up Collooney, 
 and himself and its defenders as prisoners with- 
 out demanding terms, for his condition was des- 
 perate. Shortly after Red Hugh himself appeared 
 upon the scene, and held a long colloquy with his 
 captive. The result of this conference was that Sir 
 Donough undertook to transfer his allegiance from the 
 Queen to Red Hugh, and to hold all Sligo from 
 him on the same terms that his ancestors used 
 to hold it from Red* Hugh's ancestors. Hugh 
 reinvested him in the lordship of Sligo, presented 
 him with horses, cattle, sheep, ploughs, and 
 all manner of farm instruments, and even witrfa. 
 population, so that in a short time the wasted land 
 became once again an inhabited, industrious and well- 
 settled principality. Red Hugh gave him what the 
 Crown first would not, and then could not give him,, 
 
 * One was that three bards, all nominated in the deed, should 
 satirize the party who first broke contract. Modern times were 
 coming but had not yet come. 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS, I *tf 
 
 viz., the estates of his ancestors, Hugh took his 
 hostages and thenceforward directed all his motions 
 I may add that subsequently, when troubles began to 
 close round the young chief of Tir-Connall, Sir 
 Donongh took to intriguing anew w T ith the Queen's 
 party, and Red Hugh had to imprison Sir Donough, 
 *nd raise his brother to the chieftaincy. 
 
 Granuaile's son, Burke the Marine, long rocking 
 idly before the ruins of Sligo Castle, weighed anchor 
 -and sailed with all his lime, cannons and provisions. 
 I dare say he annexed them, for I find that he now 
 transferred his allegiance to the victorious Red Hugh. 
 The land Burke having watched grimly the sinking 
 sails of his cousin, marched back to his principality of 
 Mayo, ruling and regulating there as Red Hugh's 
 MacWilliam. 
 
 Released from his formidable opponent, Clifford,. 
 Red Hugh resumed his operations speedily, made 
 himself virtual master of Connaught, and medi- 
 tated now the overthrow of Thomond and the 
 O'Briens. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 MacDERMOT'S latin letter. 
 
 As mentioned, the headless body of the President was 
 carried southwards to MacDermot, The treatment 
 which it received at his hands will be perceived from 
 the following curious letter, despatched probably a day 
 
 u 
 
178 BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS. 
 
 or two after the battle, by that chieftain, to the Con- 
 stable of Boyle. It fell into the hands of Sir John 
 Harrington, and was published by him in his Nugae 
 Antiquae. It is by him " censured " justly enough, 
 to be "barbarous for the Latyn, but cyvill for the 
 sence : n 
 
 " Conestabulario de Boyle saint an. 
 
 Scias quod ego traduxi corpus gubematoris ad monas- 
 teriu Sanctae Trinitatis propter ejus dilectionem, et 
 alia de causa. Si velitis mihi redire meos captivos ex 
 praedicto cor pore quod pai'atus sum ad confer endum vobis 
 ipsum ; alias sepultus erit honeste in pi-edicto monasterio 
 et sic vale, scrip tu apud Gay wash, 15 August, 1599; 
 interim pone bonu linteamentum ad p7-cedictum corpus \ 
 et si velitis sepelire omnes alios nobiles non impediam 
 vos erga cos. 
 
 "Mac Dermon." 
 
 Probable translation of the foregoing : 
 
 " To the Constable of Boyle, greeting. 
 
 " Know that I have surrendered the body of the 
 Governor to the Monastery of the Holy Trinity, on 
 account of his command and for other cause. If you 
 wish to restore me my captives in return for the afore- 
 said body, I am ready to confer with you in person. 
 In any case, he will be honourably interred in the 
 aforesaid monastery. So fare thee well. 
 
 " Written at Gaywash, August 15, 1599. 
 
BATTLE OF THE CURLEW MOUNTAINS, 1 79 
 
 "In the meantime wrap [I have wrapped] a good 
 shroud round the aforesaid body, and if you wish to 
 bury all the other nobles, I will not interfere with your 
 >doing so." 
 
 Note the aristocratic feeling expressed here : 
 MacDermot seems to think that the Constable would 
 -only be at the pains of burying the bodies of the 
 gentlemen. The " redire meos captivos n is funny 
 enough, but the letter is the letter of a soldier and 
 a gentleman. 
 
 Dymok adds the following, which has some interest, 
 though inconsiderable. 
 
 "By thislettre is too truly interpreted a troublesome 
 dream of the Governor's, which he had about a yeare 
 before this defeat, when being awakened by his wife 
 out of an unquiet sleepe, he recounted unto her that 
 he thought himself to have been taken prisoner by 
 •O'Donnell, and that certen religious men of com- 
 passion conveied him into their monastery, where they 
 concealed him. And so indeed, as he dreamed, or 
 rather prophesied, the monastery hath his bodye, the 
 worlde his fame, and his frends the want of his 
 wtu." 
 
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