Ireland under the Tudors. Volume 3 (of 3)

Mountjoy in the central districts (February)

The early months of 1601 were spent by Mountjoy in devastating the central districts. Starting from Monasterevan on January 29, he passed by Kildare, which was in ruins and quite deserted, to Trim, and from thence by Castletown Delvin to Mullingar, ‘the shiretown of Westmeath, compassed with bogs.’ Athlone was reached on February 17, and then, without resting more than a night, he doubled back to Macgeohegan’s castle of Donore. Between Lough Ennell and the place still called Tyrrell’s pass, he found the redoubtable Captain Tyrrell in his stronghold, ‘seated in a plain and in a little island compassed with bogs and deep ditches of running water.’ An attempt to cross with hurdles and faggots was frustrated by the current, and an officer was shot. Moryson, the historian, had a narrow escape. The English horse kept always on the move, which generally protected them against the fire of matchlocks, but the secretary, who was no soldier, and whose white horse gave a good mark, felt one bullet whistle past his head, while another struck his saddle. Proclamation was then made that no one, on pain of death, should succour the rebels in any way, that the country people should bring provisions to the camp, and that soldiers, also on pain of death, should pay the market price. Two thousand crowns were placed on Tyrrell’s head, who thought it prudent to steal away by night to another island in Queen’s County, which was for the time inaccessible, on account of the floods.[371 - Moryson, Jan. 29 to Feb. 25, part ii. book ii. chap. ii.; Mountjoy to Carew, March 11, in Carew.]

Mountjoy and Essex

While staying at Donore Mountjoy got a letter to say that Essex had been sent to the Tower. ‘It is not credible,’ says Moryson, ‘that the influence of the Earl’s malignant star should work upon so poor a snake as myself.’ Yet so it was. Mountjoy thought it prudent to range himself ostentatiously on Cecil’s side, and to depress Essex’s friends, with some of whom his secretary was connected. He took his most private papers into his own custody, and Moryson says he never quite recovered the blow. He tells us that, however his principal might clamour to be recalled nothing was further from his thoughts, and that he had made preparations to sail for France in case he was sent for to England. Ten days later came a gracious letter from Elizabeth, in which she announced the death of Essex, cautioned his successor to look well to the loyalty of his officers, and forbade him to leave his post until the intentions of Spain were better known.[372 - Essex was arrested Feb. 8 and executed Feb. 25. Mountjoy heard the news on the 22nd and March 2 respectively. Moryson, book i. ch. ii.]

Death of Essex. His confessions

Lady Rich

Mountjoy had been implicated in the Essex intrigues quite enough to make him nervous; but when it became clear that the Queen would overlook all, he was probably sincerely anxious to return. He wrote to solicit Nottingham’s good offices, and the answer throws a curious light upon the manners and morals of the time. ‘I think,’ wrote the Lord Admiral, ‘her Majesty would be most glad to look upon your black eyes here, so she were sure you would not look with too much respect on other black eyes. But for that, if the admiral were but thirty years old, I think he would not differ in opinions from the Lord Mountjoy.’ And then he goes on to speak of Essex’s behaviour after his trial, and of those upon whom he had most unnecessarily drawn the suspicion of the Government. His friend Southampton, his stepfather Blount, his secretary Cuffe, were but a few of those to whom he ascribed a guilt greater than his own. ‘“And now,” said he,’ so Nottingham continues, ‘“I must accuse one who is most nearest to me, my sister, who did continually urge me on with telling me how all my friends and followers thought me a coward, and that I had lost all my valour;” and then thus, “that she must be looked to, for she had a proud spirit,” and spared not to say something of her affection to you. Would your lordship have thought this weakness and this unnaturalness in this man?’

Lady Rich was accordingly committed to the Lord Admiral’s house, but bore herself so becomingly that she was at once released. In writing to thank her late gaoler for his kindness, she says: ‘for my deserts towards him that is gone, it is known that I have been more like a slave than a sister, which proceeded out of my exceeding love, rather than his authority… so strangely have I been wronged, as may well be an argument to make one despise the world, finding the smoke of envy where affection should be clearest.’ This letter was sent to Mountjoy, who – to do him such justice as is possible – was true to this most unfortunate Penelope. Five years later, when Lord Rich had obtained a mere ecclesiastical divorce from his wife, no less a divine than William Laud was induced to perform the marriage ceremony between her and her lover, and before that date Bacon had addressed to Mountjoy (‘because you loved my lord of Essex’) his tardy and inadequate apology. It was not the fault of Essex that neither his sister nor his friend suffered with him.’[373 - Nottingham to Mountjoy, May 31, 1601, enclosing Lady Rich’s letter. Notwithstanding the Lord Admiral’s playful allusion to 30 years, Mountjoy was 38 and Penelope 40. The letters are printed in Goodman’s James I. ii. 14-20.]

Steady progress of Mountjoy

The Barony of Farney in Monaghan was next invaded, and the adherents of Ever MacCooly MacMahon had their houses burned, after which Mountjoy stayed for a month at Drogheda, and then returned to Dublin. Sick and tired of the work which he had to do, he told Carew that he could welcome the Spaniards, ‘but I fear me,’ he added, ‘they are too wise to come into this country, whom God amend or confound, and send us a quiet return and a happy meeting in the land of good meat and clean linen, lest by our long continuing here we turn knaves with this generation of vipers, and slovens with eating draff with these swine.’ The Lord President in the meantime was reducing Munster to a quiet state. More than 4,000 persons were pardoned during January and February, and at the end of March, when Desmond left Ireland, there was scarcely any more fighting to be done. Carew could despatch troops into Connaught, and prevent Tyrone from sending help by the road to the Sugane Earl, who lurked, for the most part, in Tipperary. Lord Barry very nearly caught him, and accused his enemy the White Knight of harbouring the traitor. Carew threatened to hold the latter responsible for his country, and his fears settled the fugitive’s fate. His object was to remain at large until the Spaniards came, but, as usual, they were too late. Ten years before, a papal archbishop had written that help was coming. ‘Notwithstanding,’ he said, ‘that the Catholic King his captains be slow in their affairs, I am certain that the men are purposed to be sent to comfort the same poor island, which is in distress a long time.’ Another archbishop now urged the last of the Desmonds to hold out, ‘knowing and firmly hoping that the help of my lord the Catholic King is now coming, which when it cometh all things shall be prosperous.’ The help did come at last, but by that time James Fitzthomas was in the Tower.[374 - Moryson ut sup.; Mountjoy to Carew, April 10, 1601, in Carew; Edmund MacGauran, titular Archbishop of Armagh, to Captain Eustace June 18/28, 1591, MS. Hatfield; Matthew de Oviedo, ‘Spanish Archbishop of Dublin,’ to James Fitzthomas, Jan. 3/13, 1601-2, in Pacata Hibernia, book i. chap. xix.]

The last of the Sugane Earl

The Knight’s followers, one and all, declared that they knew nothing of the hunted man’s whereabouts, though some of them were his daily companions. Probably they did not believe in their chief’s sincerity, but at last one of them asked him if he was really in earnest, and, finding that this was so, led him straight to a cave not far from Mitchelstown, many fathoms deep, and with a narrow entrance, perhaps the same which tourists still visit as a natural curiosity. The Knight came to the mouth of the cave with a few men, and summoned the occupants to surrender. Desmond’s only companion was his foster-brother, Thomas O’Feighy. Appeals to the spirit of clanship were lost both on the Knight and his men, and threats were also in vain. Bribes to be paid when the 6,000 Spaniards held Munster – he mentioned the very number – were not very alluring, and so Tyrone’s Earl was given up to Sir George Thornton, who conveyed him to Cork. His confinement was close, both there and in Dublin, and irons were considered necessary. There had been so many escapes from the Castle that he did all he could to avoid being sent to England by offering to do shadowy services against Tyrone. But things were not managed as they had been in Fitzwilliam’s time, and to the Tower he came some three months later. A year afterwards wages were paid to a watcher with him ‘in his lunacy,’ and he died in the State prison in 1608. His brother John remained in rebellion and reached Spain, where his son became a Spanish count, and died fighting bravely in the imperial service. John Fitzthomas never assumed the title of Desmond in Ireland, and it was to avoid pretenders that Carew advised the Government to spare the elder brother’s life.[375 - Pacata Hibernia, book ii. chap. iii. White Knight to Carew, May 29, 1601. Many of the letters &c. on this subject are collected in Irish Arch. Journal, 3rd series, vol. i. pp. 544-559. O’Daly wrongly states that the Queen’s Earl stayed on in Ireland after his rival: he returned to England two months before his capture. From State papers calendared under June and July, 1608, it appears that John Fitzthomas was then called Earl of Desmond in Spain.]

Mountjoy in Tyrone (June to August)

Mountjoy allowed himself little rest. Having issued the currency proclamation, and done what he could to prepare the troops for the expected Spanish invasion, he started again for Dundalk at the end of May. A strong work was thrown up in the Moyry pass, effectually blocking Tyrone’s approach on that side. No serious resistance was offered, but carriage was very difficult, and the Lord-Deputy had to pay dear for pack-horses. Before the end of June he placed a garrison of 750 foot and 100 horse at Armagh. He surveyed the scene of Bagenal’s defeat, and made preparations for rebuilding the dismantled fort at Blackwater. A post was established at Downpatrick, which brought the Magennis family to their knees, and by the middle of July he felt strong enough to cross the Blackwater in force. The fords had been elaborately fortified by Tyrone with trenches and abattis in the Irish manner, but he scarcely ventured to make any defence. Some of the colours taken from Bagenal were displayed on the Irish side, but the Queens troops easily passed over, under cover of two small field-guns. A new fort was made tenable, and properly entrusted to gallant Captain Williams, whose leg was broken by a shot in one of these skirmishes. Mountjoy advanced as far as Benburb, the scene of Owen Roe O’Neill’s great victory half a century later, and there was a great deal of firing; but Tyrone dared not come to close quarters. His men had also to spare their powder, while Mountjoy’s supply was practically unlimited. Doctor Latwar, the chaplain, like Walker at the Boyne, had learned to love fighting for its own sake, and ‘affecting some singularity of forwardness more than his place required,’ was mortally wounded in the head. The Lord-Deputy’s chief loss was in his Irish auxiliaries, and Moryson coolly notes that ‘the loss of such unpeaceable swordsmen was rather gain to the commonwealth.’ The latter part of July was spent in cutting down the corn, and clearing the woods on both sides of the Blackwater, and the fort being then able to take care of itself, Mountjoy marched back to Armagh, where he undertook similar operations. Piers Lacy, the noted Munster rebel, was killed in an abortive attack upon the camp. It was Mountjoy’s intention to seize Dungannon, and to make it a centre of operations in reducing the North, and nearly all August was spent in preparing provisions so as to make a decisive campaign possible during the following winter. He was at Newry or Dundalk on the 29th, when a letter came from Carew to say that the Spaniards had been sighted at sea. This forced him to draw towards Dublin, but he left Ulster firmly bridled by garrisons, and it is evident that Tyrone would soon have been reduced to extremities if it had not been for the diversion made by the invasion of Munster.[376 - May 22 to Aug. 29, 1601; Moryson, part ii. book ii. chap. i.]

Plot against Tyrone’s life

An Irish stronghold

An Englishman, named Thomas Walker, who had worn out the patience of his friends, and was in danger of prosecution for a seditious libel, visited Ireland, as he professed, for pleasure and to see the country. He reached Armagh in July, and informed Sir Henry Danvers, who was in command there, that he was going to kill Tyrone, that the idea was entirely his own, and that he required no help. Danvers was in command of the garrison, and anxious to do something which might wipe out the remembrance of his elder brother’s treason. He told Walker that the attempt was honourable but very dangerous, and advised him to think twice, but having consulted Mountjoy, who was in camp hard by, he allowed him to pass through the lines. After several narrow escapes from loose horsemen, Walker came into Tyrone’s presence, who turned pale when he heard of the force at Armagh. The rebel chief was dressed in a frieze jacket open in front, and 600 or 700 men were in the neighbourhood. Walker told him his father had been mixed up with Essex’s conspiracy, and that he had come for protection, since the Queen’s government was wont to visit the sins of the fathers on the children. Tyrone had tears in his eyes when he spoke of Essex’s death, and said that Walker was safe with him. He asked to see some of the new money, at which he gazed earnestly, some of his train saying, ‘These wars hath made the Queen of England poor, that she coins copper money.’ On hearing that the device was attributed to Cecil, the Earl said he wished he had him there to make him shorter by a head. The bystanders used many opprobrious terms, and a Spanish captain took occasion to say that his master still paid the royallest in the world. For a moment Walker was close to Tyrone with a sword in his hand, but his heart failed him, and he got no further opportunity. Tyrone attended mass, but Walker was not allowed to be present, as he had ‘no godfather.’ He was sent on to Dungannon, where he found Lady Tyrone and her mother ‘in a cott,’ and they took him to an island stronghold not far off, the fortifications of which were still unfinished. They crossed in a canoe and four huge hampers of provisions were brought in, each of which took three men to carry it. The ladies observed that the whole English army would attack them there in vain; but Mountjoy, not many weeks before, had found a soldier to swim over and burn the houses in a similar stronghold for no greater reward than one angel. Walker was informed that he was to go to Scotland, whither Tyrone was in the habit of sending all such visitors. He was strictly forbidden to return to the camp, and though he offered a round sum for a guide no one was found bold enough to disobey the chiefs orders. After this he went to Randal MacSorley, whose favour he gained by professing to be a good Catholic, and who allowed him to go to Chichester at Carrickfergus. In the end he was sent back to England. Mountjoy seems to have held that there would be no harm in murdering a proclaimed rebel upon whose head a price had been set. He thought Walker little ‘better than frantic, though such a one was not unfit for such an enterprise.’[377 - Information of Thomas Walker (taken in England), Oct. 3, 1601, MS. Hatfield; Walker to Mountjoy, Aug. 22; Mountjoy to Cecil, Aug. 23. Walker maintained that he never thought of killing Tyrone until he found himself in Ireland.]

Brass money

Confusion caused by debasing the coinage

‘Of all the plagues of that time,’ says Macaulay in his history of 1689, ‘none made a deeper or a more lasting impression on the minds of the Protestants of Dublin than the plague of the brass money.’ And the great Dutchman is still toasted for delivering them from that evil. The attempt of James II. to obtain a revenue in this way was the worst, but it was neither the first nor the last enterprise of this kind. Swift roused the people of Dublin to fury by his diatribes against Wood’s patent, which, though not all that he called it, was nevertheless a scandalous job. Elizabeth’s father, brother, and sister had issued base coin, and she had reaped honour by restoring the standard. And now she herself listened to the voice of the tempter, who in this case was Lord Treasurer Buckhurst. Had Burghley been alive, she would not have been asked to repeat an experiment which had always failed. The chosen instrument was Sir George Carey, who had succeeded Wallop as Vice-Treasurer. The expense of the army in Ireland was great, and Buckhurst imagined that it could be lessened by paying the soldiers in debased coin. In those days it was generally held that the presence of bullion in a country was an end in itself; and it was thought possible to tie the trade of Ireland to England, while preventing the exportation of sterling money to foreign lands. The money which went abroad was chiefly spent in arms or powder, and this traffic tended to maintain the war. The Queen saw clearly that the proposed change would do her no credit, and that the army would object to it; but she was hard pressed for money, and allowed herself to be persuaded. All coin current in Ireland was accordingly cried down by proclamation, and new twelvepenny, sixpenny, and threepenny pieces were issued, with a harp on one side, and containing only threepence worth of silver to each shilling. All payments were to be made in this rubbish, and no other coin was to be considered legal or current. Those who held English or foreign money, plate, or bullion ‘of the fineness of the standard of England or better,’ might demand a bill of exchange on London, Bristol, or Chester, payable in sterling money at a premium of sixpence in the pound. Those who held the new coin might bring it to Dublin, Cork, Galway, or Carrickfergus, and demand bills of exchange on the same places in England at the rate of nineteen shillings sterling to the pound Irish. Those who held English money in Ireland were entitled to receive twenty-one shillings Irish for every pound, and bills of exchange upon Ireland were given at the same rate in England. The old base coin circulating in Ireland was made exchangeable for its nominal value in the new currency, and the importation of English money into Ireland was prohibited. This system of exchange distinguishes Buckhurst’s plan from James II.’s, who simply declared that the impression of his own hard features turned kettles and old cannon into gold and silver; but it was bad enough. At first the full extent of the evil was not seen, and Carew who seems not to have been much more enlightened than the Lord Treasurer, thought no great harm would be done. But the towns soon began to grumble, and coiners were quickly at work, even within royal fortresses. English coin being no longer current in Ireland, the lawyers held that there was no law to punish those who counterfeited it. The genuine Irish coin was so bad that it was easy to imitate it and to leave out the silver altogether. Those who were interested in the trade gave out that the legal currency contained no silver, and so no one knew what anything was worth. The Queen lost by the bargain, prices became high and uncertain, and the only gainers were those who traded in money. Carey controlled the course of exchange, and it was believed that he profited very largely. Taught by sad experience, the Irish officials at last announced that the whole policy of degrading the coin was exceedingly distasteful to soldiers and merchants, rich and poor. ‘We humbly acknowledge,’ they tell the Privy Council, ‘that experience showeth that the prices of things do follow the rate of silver and gold which is in the money… And when your lordships do think that the prices of things by this project shall fall… we are not of that opinion.’ An attempt to restrain the course of exchange only made matters worse, and the difficulty extended into the next reign, when the English Government at last came to see that honesty was the best policy.[378 - The proclamation is in Morrin’s Patent Rolls, 1601, of which several original printed copies are extant, bearing date May 20, 1601. The whole story may be read in Carew, 1601-3, and in the first vol. of Russell and Prendergast’s Calendar. See also Camden and Moryson. In Feb. 1603 Mountjoy wrote: ‘the alteration of the coin, and taking away of the exchange, in such measure as it was first promised, hath bred a general grievance unto men of all qualities, and so many incommodities to all sorts, that it is beyond the judgment of any that I can hear to prevent a confusion in this estate by the continuance thereof.’Moryson says the pretence was that the rebels would be impoverished, whereas the Queen’s servants were the real sufferers – ‘we served in discomfort and came home beggars, so that only the treasurers and paymasters had cause to bless the authors of this invention.’]

CHAPTER LI.

THE SPANIARDS IN MUNSTER, 1601-1602

Rumours of invasion

Cecil had been right in saying that no Spaniards would come in 1600, and he was equally well informed about their intentions in the next year. In the autumn he inclined to think that they would go to Galway rather than to any part of Munster, where the strength of the rebels had been so lately and so thoroughly broken. Limerick and Waterford were mentioned as probable objects of attack, but Carew thought an invader would avoid the former as giving no means of retreat, and the latter as being too easily reached from England. Cork he thought the most likely to attract them, especially as Florence MacCarthy had recommended it, and he set to work to remedy its natural weakness as far as possible. ‘The other towns’, he said, ‘are neither worth their labours to gain, nor her Majesty’s charges to defend.’ The Spaniards did, in fact, aim at Cork, and may have been more easily turned aside by hearing that a warm reception awaited them there. Carew had in the meantime taken the precaution of arresting Florence and sending him to England. It may be doubted whether faith was not broken with him; but there can be no doubt of his dealings with Tyrone or with the Spaniards, and both the Queen and Cecil approved of his detention.[379 - Carew to the Privy Council, Aug. 6, 1601; Cecil to Carew, Sept. 5 – both in Carew. ‘For Desmond (James Fitzthomas),’ says Cecil, ‘I find him more discreet than I have heard of him, and for Florence the same which I ever expected, which is a malicious, vain fool.’ —Pacata Hibernia, lib. ii. cap. 6.]

The Spaniards disembark at Kinsale (September)

Cecil warned Carew that the danger of invasion would not be over till the middle of October, and at the beginning of September Mountjoy thought it prudent to be ready for an immediate journey into Munster. On the 21st both Deputy and President were Ormonde’s guests at Kilkenny, and on the next day an express came to say that the Spaniards had been sighted off the Old Head of Kinsale. Captain Love, in a small pinnace, had descried them at sea off Cape Finisterre a fortnight before, had noted that they were full of soldiers, and had made sail for Cork harbour, to give the alarm. This says much for the superior sailing power of the English, but it is possible that the ships seen by Love were those which were driven into Corunna by bad weather. Lisbon had been the original point of departure. The main fleet, with Don Juan D’Aguila on board, arrived off Cork, but found the wind blowing out of the harbour’s mouth and did not attempt an entrance. They had already passed Kinsale, to which port they returned, and on September 23 Don Juan disembarked all his men, without opposition. The garrison, which was less than 100 strong, evacuated the town, most of the substantial inhabitants accompanying them with their goods, and the Spaniards marched in with twenty-five colours. The ‘sovereign,’ with his white staff, saw them properly billeted, and it was noticed that he did it with more alacrity than if he had been providing quarters for the Queen’s troops.[380 - Journal in Carew, No. 198; Pacata Hibernia, cap. 10; Carew to the Privy Council, Sept. 14.]

Mountjoy goes to Munster

On the news reaching Kilkenny, a council was held. Ormonde and Wingfield advised the Lord Deputy to return to Dublin and prepare his forces, while the Lord President went to prepare supplies at Cork. But Carew urged Mountjoy to start at once for Munster, though with his page only. If the provincials, he said, saw the chief governor’s back turned they would think he lacked forces, and there would be a general revolt. The army too would make more haste when the general had gone before. These arguments prevailed, and when Mountjoy heard that Carew had provided supplies enough to support the whole army for two or three months, he rose from his chair and embraced him with many cordial words. Carew had 100 horse with him, and, thus escorted, the two set out together next day. A night was passed with Lord Dunboyne at Kiltinan, another at Clonmel, and a third at Lord Roche’s castle of Glanworth. After spending one day at Cork, Mountjoy went with some horse to a point overlooking Kinsale, and found that most of the Spanish ships were gone. There had already been a little skirmish in the neighbourhood of the town, but no serious attempt could be made to disturb the strangers for nearly three weeks. Don Juan spent the interval in strengthening his position, and in trying to make friends with the country people. In this he had very little success, for the weight of Carew’s hand was still felt, and it was evident that the cloud which was gathering at Cork would soon burst.[381 - Pacata Hibernia, caps. 9, 10, and 11. The Spanish ships are described as fifty, forty-five, and thirty-five. The latter number probably came to Kinsale with Don Juan. Storms and accidents account for the rest. Small vessels had been purposely chosen, with a view to the Irish harbours.]

The Spaniards come in the Pope’s name

The Spaniards brought arms for the country people, but very few of them came in, and they were ordered by Mountjoy to drive all their cattle to the eastward of the Carrigaline river. The corn for five miles round Kinsale was burned, and the inhabitants were warned by proclamation not to take part with the Pope and the King of Spain, who were unjustly maintaining rebels against their anointed sovereign. Among those who accompanied Don Juan was Matthew de Oviedo, a Spanish Franciscan who had been papal commissary with Desmond twenty years before, and who was now titular Archbishop of Dublin; and he was probably the author of the Latin counter-proclamation. In this document the deposing power is claimed for the Pope, and its exercise by Pius V., Gregory XIII., and Clement VIII. is treated as conclusive. Elizabeth being thus made a mere usurping heretic, the Irish are absolved from all allegiance to her and are ordered to support the Catholic cause, on pain of being considered heretics themselves. In his own name the Archbishop wrote to O’Neill and O’Donnell, and Don Juan sent more than one messenger to hasten their coming. The Spaniards were without cavalry, having been given to understand that horses would be provided for the 1,600 saddles which they brought with them. Finding no allies, they had thus no means of acting on the offensive, and the English horse rode up to the very gates of Kinsale. The townsfolk were encouraged to withdraw their families and property, and were allowed to come and go until October 8, ‘without any imputation of treason.’ Don Juan gave them equal liberty; and this increased his chance of a successful defence, for he had about 4,000 men, and there were only about 200 houses in the town. Lord Barry went to Galbally with such forces as he could collect, in the hope of intercepting Tyrone on his march southwards, and Mountjoy made such haste as was possible to be at Kinsale before him.[382 - Pacata Hibernia, caps. 10 and 11; Warrants in Carew, Sept. 28.]

Kinsale besieged (October)

Rincurren taken

On October 16 Mountjoy marched out of Cork, encamping on the first night at the Carrigaline river, and on the second under Knock Robin, a hill close to Kinsale. Ten days were spent in the wet fields without the means to entrench, for it was thought that longer delay would have a bad moral effect. At last the ships, with guns and tools, came to Cork, and were sent round to Oyster Haven, where there was no difficulty in unlading them. Don Juan had garrisoned Castle Park, on the west side of Kinsale Harbour, probably in the vain hope of preventing the entry of English vessels. He had another outpost at Rincurren on the east side, but neither work gave serious annoyance to the army, which was now entrenched on the Spittle hill, to the north side of the town. Carew found the artillery in very bad order; but the delay was of no service to the Spaniards, whose boats were effectually kept off by Captain Button in his pinnace. At last two pieces opened on Rincurren, ‘but within two or three shot the carriage of the better culverin brake, and, about two of the clock in the afternoon, the other received a flaw.’ The rest of the day was occupied in mending the carriage of the sound gun, and Don Juan tried to make a diversion by dragging artillery out of the town and firing into the camp. Two men were killed near the Lord Deputy’s tent, and two hogsheads of his beer broached, but no serious harm was done. In the morning ‘the culverin began to play, and about nine of the clock the demi-culverin was mounted, which after a few shot brake her axletree; before three she was remounted, and by that time a cannon likewise planted, and all three pieces without intermission played.’ But Carew thought the fire too vague, and, having obtained Mountjoy’s leave, he laid the guns himself, so that the fire might converge on one spot. The true range was got with a quadrant, and the cannonade was thus continued after sunset. Another attempt was made to relieve the post by land, but this was frustrated, with loss to the besieged, and by six o’clock the Spaniards in the castle called for a parley. They offered to surrender the fort on condition of being allowed to depart with arms and baggage. This was refused, a further parley declined, and the battery continued until two in the morning, when many of the besieged attempted to escape by the waterside. Twenty-three Spaniards were taken and thirty killed. Of the Irish all the fighting men escaped, but churls, women, and children were taken. The captain in command had his leg broken, and his subaltern, Don Bartholomeo Paez de Clavijo, was forced to surrender next morning, being allowed to carry out his own sword and give it up to Carew in person. He was quite ready to blow up the fort, with himself and all his men in it, but the eighty-six surviving soldiers threatened to throw him over the walls. The lives of the Spaniards were spared, and they were sent to Cork, but no terms had been granted to the Irish, of whom Dermot MacCarthy, called Don Dermutio, was the only person of note. He had been in Florence’s service, had lived in Spain as a pensioner, and was able to disclose many important secrets. He was, however, afterwards hanged at Cork.[383 - Pacata Hibernia, cap. 13; Fynes Moryson, part ii. book ii. chap. ii.; Journal in Carew (No. 199) Oct. 29 to Nov. 1.]

Progress of the siege (November)

Castle Park taken

A few days after the first success Thomond arrived from England with 1,000 foot and 100 horse, after having been blown far to the westward and forced to take refuge in Castle Haven. Both men and horses were worn out by the long confinement on board, and had to be sent to Cork to recruit. About the same time Sir Richard Leveson arrived with his squadron and 2,000 soldiers, and the ships were warped into harbour in spite of the wind. Neither guns nor men were now wanting, and the siege began in earnest. The camp had already been fortified on the north side, so as to prevent an attack by Tyrone’s forces, which were daily expected, and Castle Park, on the south side of the harbour, was taken, after two ineffectual attempts. After a long cannonade the Spaniards, who were but seventeen in number, surrendered, and it is hard to see how so small a garrison could ever have been expected to maintain itself. The fact probably was that Don Juan expected to find an Irish army to help him, and that he found an English one instead. Mountjoy’s camp was thoroughly fortified, and his approaches almost completed before any relieving force appeared. O’Donnell had, however, been long on his way. On hearing of the Spanish descent he at once raised the siege of Donegal, and, accompanied by Brian Oge O’Rourke, MacDermot, and others, including some Munster exiles, marched from Ballymote through Roscommon and Galway to Shannon Harbour, where he was ferried across, and through Westmeath and King’s County into Tipperary. At Moydrum, in O’Meagher’s country, between Roscrea and Templemore, he lay for three weeks waiting for Tyrone, and the annalists observe, with apparent pride, that his people ‘continued plundering, burning, and ravaging the country around them, so that there was no want of anything necessary for an army in his camp, for any period, short or long.’ The Irish and Catholic hero knew no better way to advance the cause than by harrying people who were as Irish and as Catholic as himself.[384 - Journal in Carew, Nos. 199 and 200; Four Masters, 1601; Docwra’s Narration, p. 257. Castle Park fell on Nov. 20.]

O’Donnell joins Tyrone (November)

A council of war decided to send Carew to Tipperary, in the hope of intercepting O’Donnell before his junction with Tyrone. Carew obeyed, though he considered the expedition useless. Having the goodwill of the country O’Donnell was sure to have news of his coming, and against such a light-footed enemy he expected to have no better success than Ormonde had with Tyrone. He left the camp on November 7, with 1,000 foot and 250 horse, and was afterwards joined by Sir Christopher St. Laurence’s regiment and by the irregular forces under Lord Barry’s command. On arriving at Ardmayle on the Suir, he found that there was no possibility of attacking O’Donnell among the bogs and woods, but supposed that the latter would hardly be able to go by without fighting, for the mountains of Slieve Phelim, which in summer offered a road into Limerick, were impassable from the rain. A great and sudden frost disconcerted these plans, and O’Donnell made a night march of over twenty Irish miles on hard ground. More than 200 years later Lord Anglesea had personal experience of a winter’s ride over these hills, and his sufferings resulted in the road which still bears his name. Carew hastened to intercept O’Donnell on his descent into Limerick, but found that he had already passed. To follow him into the wilds of Connello would be to court disaster, and there was nothing for it but to return to Kinsale.[385 - Four Masters, 1601; Pacata Hibernia, cap. 14; Journal in Carew, No. 200; Carew to Mountjoy, Nov. 22. Carew returned to the camp on Nov. 26.]

Spanish ships come to Castle Haven (December);

but are destroyed by the English fleet

Meanwhile the siege went slowly on, Mountjoy having an excellent engineer officer in Captain Josiah Bodley, whose elder brother founded the great Oxford library. Six guns were mounted in the trenches, and Sir Richard Leveson’s ships directed their fire upon the lower town. The Spaniards made frequent sallies, which were always repulsed, and they were unable to prevent the erection of more batteries. About twenty guns altogether were placed in position, and great execution was done both upon the Spaniards and upon their works. Being summoned to surrender, Don Juan said he would hold it against all enemies, first for Christ and then for the King of Spain, and on December 2 he made his great effort. 2,000 men sallied forth about 8 o’clock at night, and attacked the trenches with great determination. In the darkness and rain they succeeded at first, but reinforcements came up fast, and they were beaten back with a loss of 200 men killed and as many wounded. They spiked one gun, but this was afterwards made serviceable, and it was now evident that the garrison could do nothing unless they were relieved by Tyrone or by reinforcements from Spain. Next day there was a report, which turned out to be true, that more Spaniards had come to Castle Haven. Twelve ships had sailed from Corunna, but of these only six reached Ireland, and finding the Queen’s ships in Kinsale harbour, they did not venture to put in there. About 700 men were landed, and with these O’Donnell effected a junction. Sir Richard Leveson went round, with four men of war and two tenders, and the roar of his guns was heard in Mountjoy’s camp. The result was that only one Spanish ship escaped; the rest were sunk or driven ashore. Five guns had, however, been landed, and some 300 rounds were fired at the admiral, who was windbound for twenty-four hours. At last he warped his ship out with boats, and returned to Kinsale.[386 - Journal in Carew (No. 200) Nov. 29 to Dec. 9 Pacata Hibernia caps. 17, 18, and 19; Cecil to Carew, Feb. 9, 1602.]

Tyrone arrives in the neighbourhood (December)

Early in November Tyrone began his southward march. He plundered the western part of the Pale, and made his way slowly to the Bandon river, which then flowed through dense woods. ‘O’Donnell,’ said Fenton, ‘and Tyrone following after, used all the means they could to work the Irish royalists to their side, but have reduced none of reckoning, for anything yet discovered: only they both made havoc of some countries, as a revenge to the loyalists that refused to rise with them.’ At the news of Tyrone’s approach Mountjoy completed the investment of Kinsale, by erecting a small work to the west side of the town. Next day the Irish horse showed themselves within two miles, and on the day after that Leveson’s squadron again entered the harbour. The camp was strengthened against an attack from the land side, and the Spaniards made several fruitless attempts to interrupt the work by sallies. Cooped up within narrow limits and subsisting wholly on biscuit, the invaders suffered terribly by the almost incessant cannonade, and Don Juan grew anxious. In a letter which was intercepted he besought Tyrone and O’Donnell to relieve him. The besiegers, he said, were wearied by their labours in the wet fields, and were unable to man a third part of the trenches. The assailants, who should be well seconded on his side, were sure to succeed, ‘and being once mingled with the enemies their forts will do them as much harm as us.’[387 - Journal in Carew (Nos. 200 and 201) Dec. 7-20; Letters of Don Juan d’Aguila, Dec. 10/28, in Pacata Hibernia; Fenton to the Queen, Dec. 4, printed in the Ulster Journal of Archæology, vi. p. 64.]

Irish auxiliaries

The only allies gained by Tyrone in Munster were in West Cork and Kerry, and they did not declare themselves until the Spanish reinforcements arrived at Castle Haven. Castlemaine held out for the Queen, but Thomas Fitzmaurice Baron of Lixnaw came with O’Donnell from the north, and recovered the castle which gave him his title and two others. O’Connor Kerry surprised his own castle of Carrigafoyle and killed the guard, which consisted only of a sergeant and twelve men. Sir Fineen O’Driscoll, ‘who never in the course of his whole life had been tainted with the least spot of disloyalty,’ gave up his castles at Baltimore to the Spaniards, and O’Sullivan Bere did the same with Dunboy. Most of the O’Sullivans and MacCarthies were engaged, but Sir Cormac MacDermot, lord of Muskerry, remained with Mountjoy, who took care so to employ him as to attract Don Juan’s attention. Sir Cormac had, however, an understanding with the Spanish general, and promised him to deliver up the Lord President alive or dead. Carew knew all about it, but ate, drank, rode, and conferred privately with this dangerous ally, whose design perhaps was only to make himself safe in case the Spaniards should triumph in the end, or in case he should fall into their hands. Tyrone had with him MacMahon, Maguire, Randal MacSorley, MacDonnell, and some of the O’Connors and Burkes, but his chief dependence was upon Captain Richard Tyrrell and his mercenaries.[388 - Pacata Hibernia, caps. 15 and 18; Four Masters, 1601.]

Dangerous position of the besiegers

Placed between two fires, Mountjoy’s position was critical enough, and Tyrone’s plan was to blockade him. On December 21 the Irish, with whom were a small body of Spaniards, showed themselves in force to the east of the camp, and they had complete possession of the country between the Bandon and Carrigaline rivers. The line of communication for supplies was thus cut off, no forage could be obtained, and it was decided by a council of war on December 23 that the horse should be sent away to Cork.

The situation was indeed not unlike that of Cromwell before Dunbar, the English having the command of the sea, and the enemy that of the land. If no battle had been offered him, Mountjoy might have been forced to abandon the siege. The Spaniards made sallies every night, and Don Juan, some of whose letters were intercepted, urged Tyrone to attack the camp. According to the annalists, he wished to pursue the Fabian tactics which had so often succeeded, but was overruled by O’Donnell, who was ‘oppressed at heart and ashamed to hear the complaint and distress of the Spaniards without relieving them.’ The attack might have been successful had there not been treachery in the Irish camp. Brian MacHugh Oge MacMahon, who was one of Tyrone’s chief officers, had a son who had been Carew’s page, and this gave an excuse for some friendly intercourse. A bottle of whiskey was sought and given for old acquaintance’ sake, and when thanking Carew for his civility, MacMahon found means to disclose Tyrone’s plans. Thus warned, Mountjoy doubled the guards and had all the soldiers ready to fall in at short notice. A flying column of about 1,000 men was kept under arms, and at daybreak on December 24, the enemy’s lighted matches were seen in great numbers towards the north-west.[389 - Journal in Carew (No. 201) Dec. 21-3; Pacata Hibernia, cap. 21; Moryson. The Four Masters and O’Sullivan both say the English were on their guard, and the former note the report of treachery, but without giving MacMahon’s name.]

Tyrone attacks Mountjoy, and is completely defeated

It had been arranged that the camp should be attacked at midnight, and that the besieged should make a sally upon the trenches at the same time. Forewarned as he was, Mountjoy might have found it hard to resist such a combined onset, but there were other reasons for the failure of his assailants. ‘The chiefs,’ say the Irish annalists, ‘were at variance, each of them contending that he himself should go foremost in the night’s attack, so that they set out from their camp in three strong battalions, shoulder to shoulder, and elbow to elbow. O’Neill with the Kinel-Owen and others were in a strong battalion apart; O’Donnell, with the Kinel-Connell, his sub-chieftains, and the Connaught men in general, formed the second battalion; those gentlemen of Munster, Leinster, and Meath, with their forces, who had risen up in the confederacy of the Irish war, and who had been in banishment in Ulster during the preceding part of this year, were in the third.’ Misled by his guides, O’Donnell wandered about all night, and when morning broke, Tyrone with O’Sullivan and the Spaniards found themselves close to the English lines and unsupported. It is very difficult to understand the plan of attack. Mountjoy’s information was to the effect that the Castle Haven Spaniards, with 800 Irish under Tyrrell, intended to throw themselves into the town, join the garrison, and renew the combined attack on the following night with every chance of success. What really happened was that the Irish fell into confusion on finding themselves suddenly faced by a well-prepared enemy. Intending a surprise, they were surprised themselves. Tyrone drew off his horse to re-form them, and the foot, supposing him to be flying, began to waver on all sides. O’Donnell came up at this time, but all the endeavours of the chiefs were vain, for the ground was flat and open, and there was no scope for O’Neill’s tactics. Seeing the enemy in disarray, though still unbroken, Wingfield obtained leave to act on the offensive, and Clanricarde importuned him not to lose this chance. Tyrrell and the Spaniards stood firm, and the English horse passed between them and Tyrone’s main body. A small bog had to be passed, but the troopers struggled through it, and but little resistance was offered. ‘All,’ says O’Sullivan, ‘were seized with panic terror, or rather routed by divine vengeance.’ The Spaniards, who were less fleet of foot than their allies, made a stand about the ruins of an old castle, but were cut to pieces. Their leader, Alonso del Campo, was taken and five other officers killed. The Irish lost something like 2,000 men, while on the English side there was but one fatal casualty.[390 - Mountjoy’s report is in Carew (No. 201). His private secretary, Fynes Moryson, the historian, was present. Carew’s account is in Pacata Hibernia. The Four Masters and O’Sullivan Bere are to be preferred for the movements of the Irish, and the latter may have learned some particulars from his uncle. See also Sir H. Power (who commanded the flying column) to Cecil, Dec. 27.]