Ireland under the Stuarts and during the Interregnum, Vol. I (of 3), 1603-1642

Murders at Lisgoole and elsewhere

Lord Maguire was a prisoner, but his brother Rory raised Fermanagh before any account of the doings in Dublin had come so far. The robbing and murdering began on October 23, and very soon the whole county was at the mercy of the rebels. Enniskillen was never taken, and it will be seen that walled towns, if well defended, were generally maintained. Alice Champion, whose husband was killed in her presence on the first day, heard the murderers say that ‘they had special orders from Lord Maguire not to spare him or any of the Crosses that were his followers and tenants.’ About twenty-four others were murdered at the same time, and Mrs. Champion afterwards heard them boast that they had ‘killed so many Englishmen that the grease or fat that remained on their swords might have made an Irish candle,’ ninety being despatched at Lisgoole alone. The latter massacre is also sworn to by an eye-witness. Anne Ogden’s husband was murdered in the same way. She was allowed to fly to Dublin with her two children, but all were stripped on the way, and the children afterwards died ‘through the torments of hunger and cold they endured on that journey.’

Treatment of the English Bible

Edward Flack, a clergyman, was plundered and wounded on the 23rd, and his house burned. The rebels in this case vented some of their fury on his Bible, which they stamped upon in a puddle, saying ‘A plague on this book, it has bred all this quarrel,’ and hoping that all Bibles would have this or worse treatment within three weeks. Much more of the same kind might be said, and the events sworn to in Fermanagh alone fully dispel the idea that there were no murders at the first outbreak.[291 - Hickson, Depositions, pp. 1-9 and 26.]

Cavan. The O’Reillys

Pretended orders from the King

Colonel Richard Plunkett

In Cavan, where the O’Reillys were supreme, there were no murders at the very beginning. Here, as in other places, the first idea seems to have been to spare the Scots and not to kill the English unless they resisted their spoilers. On the night of October 23, the Rev. George Crichton, vicar of Lurgan, who lived at Virginia, was roused out of his first sleep by two neighbours, who told him of the rising further north. Many of the Protestant inhabitants fled into the fields, but Crichton thought it better to stand his ground, and very soon a messenger came from Captain Tirlogh McShane McPhilip O’Reilly, to say that the Irish would harm no Scot. Crichton perhaps profited also by the fact that ‘no man ever lost a penny by him in the Bishop’s Court, and none ever paid to him what he did owe,’ which may have been a result of Bedell’s influence. He went out and met this chief at Parta wood, about a mile to the east of the town. O’Reilly, who had some twenty-four men with him, announced that Dublin and all other strong places were taken, and that they ‘had directions from his Majesty to do all these things to curb the Parliament of England; for all the Catholics in England should have been compelled to go to Church, or else they should be all hanged before their own doors on Tuesday next.’ Crichton said he did not believe such a thing had been ever dreamed of, whereupon O’Reilly declared his intention of seizing all Protestant property and of killing anyone who resisted. Next morning Virginia was sacked accordingly, but no lives were taken, for no one made any defence. The canny Scots clergyman managed to keep the Irish in pretty good humour, lodged nine families in his own house, and provided food for the fugitives from Fermanagh who began to arrive in a few days. Many thousands from Ballyhaise, Belturbet and Cavan passed through Virginia on their way towards the Pale. Crichton obtained help from Colonel Richard Plunkett, who wept and blamed Rory Maguire for all. On being asked whether the Irish had made a covenant he said, ‘Yea, the Scots have taught us our A B C; in the meantime he so trembled that he could scarce carry a cup of drink to his head.’ Nevertheless he boasted that Dublin was the only place not taken, that Geneva had fallen, and that there was war in England. Many of the wretched Fermanagh Protestants were wounded, and the state of their children was pitiable. The wounded were tended and milk provided for the children, Crichton telling his wife and family that it was their plain duty to stay, and that ‘in this trouble God had called them to do him that service.’ All this happened within the first week of the outbreak, and when the long stream of refugees seemed to have passed, Crichton and his family prepared to go; but they were detained, lest what they had to tell might be inconvenient. Protestants from the north continued to drop in for some time, and Crichton was allowed to relieve them until after the overthrow at Julianstown at the end of November. The O’Reillys took part in the affair, and their followers became bolder and less lenient.[292 - Crichton’s deposition in Contemp. Hist. i. 525.]

Cavan and Belturbet

Philip MacHugh O’Reilly

Horrors of a winter flight

Another clergyman, Henry Jones, Dean of Kilmore, was living at Bellananagh Castle, near Cavan, at the time of the outbreak. Philip MacHugh MacShane O’Reilly, member for the county, was the chosen leader of the Irish. The actual chief of the clan was Edmund O’Reilly, but the most active part was taken by his son, Miles O’Reilly, the high sheriff, a desperate ‘young man,’ who at once assumed his native name of Mulmore Mac Edmond. Under the pretence of raising the posse comitatus he sent bailiffs to the scattered houses of Protestants and collected their arms. He himself seized the arms at Farnham Castle, and took possession of Cloghoughter, with whose governor, Arthur Culme, he had been on terms of friendship. Next day, October 24, the sheriff proceeded to Belturbet, which was the principal English settlement and contained some 1500 Protestants. Sir Stephen Butler was dead, but his widow had married Mr. Edward Philpot and was living there with her five children. Sir Francis Hamilton, who was at Keilagh Castle, tried to organise some resistance, but Philip MacHugh O’Reilly took the settlers under his protection, and they gave up their arms. Yet Captain Ryves with some thirty horse had no difficulty in reaching the Pale by O’Daly’s Bridge on the Blackwater, and in occupying Ardbraccan for the Lords Justices. Cavan surrendered, and on the 29th Bellananagh, which was indefensible, surrendered to the sheriff’s uncle, Philip MacMulmore O’Reilly. It had been determined to clear all the English out of the county, and though Lady Butler with 1500 others were escorted as far as Cavan they were attacked just beyond the town, and stripped of everything. Those who did not die of exposure reached Dublin, to starve and shiver among the other fugitives there. Those who remained at Belturbet had a still worse fate.[293 - Jones’s Relation, 1642, reprinted in Contemp. Hist. i. 476. This is confirmed by the depositions of Philpot and Ryves, Hickson, i. 308.]

The O’Reillys were not unanimous

Doctor Henry Jones

Weakness of the Irish Government

Divisions among the Irish

The O’Reillys had always been more civilised than other natives of Ulster, and they almost seem to have felt that the Government must win in the end. Rose O’Neill, the wife of Philip MacHugh, wished to kill all the English and Scotch at Ballyhaise, but he would not allow it. ‘The day,’ he said, ‘may come when thou mayest be beholding to the poorest among them.’ With a view no doubt to that distant day, they resolved to petition the Lords Justices and to send an Englishman with the message. Bedell refused to go on account of his age and because his plundered flock could not spare him, but Jones, who in his time played many parts, thought it safer to do as he was asked. He left his wife and children as hostages and went to Dublin, with a memorial signed by seven O’Reillys which spoke of former misgovernment, and rumours that worse was to come. They protested their loyalty and desired the Lords Justices ‘to make remonstrance to his Majesty for us … so that the liberties of our conscience may be secured unto us, and we eased of our other burdens in the civil government.’ The Lords Justices and eight Privy Councillors, of whom Ormonde was one, sent an answer, dealing in generalities ‘suitable to the weak condition of affairs in Dublin.’ The most they could promise was that if they would restore all the Cavan Protestants to their homes and properties and cease from further hostilities, that then their memorial should be forwarded to the King. On his return Jones found the O’Reillys preparing to invade the Pale. He managed to keep the Dublin Government well informed, at the same time dissuading the Irish from attacking the capital, whose means of defence he exaggerated. Drogheda, he said, was more assailable, and to Drogheda they determined to go. They mustered first at Virginia, where Mr. Crichton made friends with Philip MacHugh’s mother on the ground of common kinship with Argyle, ‘of which house it seemeth that she was well pleased that she was descended. This kindred stood me in great stead afterwards, for although it was far off and old, yet it bound the hands of the ruder sort from shedding my blood.’ Many lives, says Crichton, were also saved by the quarrels of the Irish among themselves. Philip MacHugh not only shielded his far away cousin, and others for his sake, but was evidently disinclined to the task in hand, regretted that he had not kept the Protestants safe at Belturbet, ‘blamed Rory Maguire for threatening to kill and burn them, and cursed those among the English that gave them counsel to leave their habitations.’ Crichton thought O’Reilly a deep dissembler, but he should have the credit for comparative humanity. He and others seem to have thought that the war was on the point of breaking out in England, and that it would be impossible to send any troops to Ireland for years to come.[294 - Jones’s Relation; Crichton’s deposition in Contemp. Hist., i. 531, 545; Remonstrance from Cavan, November 6, and answer, November 10, ib. i. 364.]

Rising in Monaghan

Murder of Richard Blayney

A sham royal commission

In Monaghan there was a general rising on October 23, but a number of murders were committed during the first few days, and the Macmahons behaved worse than the O’Reillys. Richard Blayney, member for the county, and commissioner of subsidies, was hanged by Sir Phelim O’Neill’s direct orders, and his dead body barbarously treated. At Carrickmacross Essex’s bailiff, Patrick McLoughlin Macmahon, took the lead among the local rebels, and about 600l. of the great absentee’s rents came into their hands. In Monaghan, as elsewhere, the Irish professed to do everything by the King’s orders, but at Armagh Sir Phelim O’Neill professed to show the actual commission with a broad seal to it, adding that he would be a traitor if he acted of his own accord. ‘We are a sold people,’ said an Englishman who witnessed the scene. A number of Protestants took refuge in the cathedral, but they had to surrender, and being stripped and robbed were sent to keep the Caulfields company at Charlemont. A miscellaneous collection of Protestants, including many children and poor people, from whom no ransom could be expected, were driven to the bridge of Portadown and there murdered.[295 - Hickson, i. 298.]

The Portadown massacre, about Nov. 1, 1641

The church at Blackwater

Alleged apparitions

Investigation by Owen Roe O’Neill

The Portadown massacre has been more discussed perhaps than any episode in the Irish rebellion, and it has left behind it an ineffaceable impression of horror. The victims were only a part of those murdered in the county of Armagh, but more than 100 – one account says 160 – were killed at one time – and the affair was carefully planned beforehand. The chief actor was Captain Manus O’Cahan, but many of the sufferers had received passes from Sir Phelim himself. O’Cahan and his men, Mrs. Price deposed, forced and drove all those prisoners, and amongst them the deponent’s five children, by name Adam, John, Anne, Mary, and Jane Price, off the bridge into the water. Those that could swim were shot or forced back into the river. When Owen Roe O’Neill came to the country he asked in Mrs. Price’s hearing how many Protestants the rebels had drowned at Portadown, and they said 400. If this is correct the cruel work on the Bann must have continued for some time. They also said that those drowned in the Blackwater were too many to count, and that the number thrust into lakes and bog-holes could not even be guessed at. On November 17 they burned the church at Blackwaterstown with a crowd of Protestants in it, ‘whose cries being exceeding loud and fearful, the rebels used to delight much in a scornful manner to imitate them, and brag of their acts.’ Attempts have been made to discredit the evidence on the ground that Mrs. Price and others refer to apparitions at the scene of the Portadown massacre. Screams and cries are easily explained, for wolves and dogs fed undisturbed upon the unburied dead. But Mrs. Price says she actually saw a ghost when she visited the spot where her five children had been slaughtered, and that Owen Roe O’Neill, who came expressly to inform himself as to the alleged apparitions, was present with his men, who saw it also. It was twilight, and ‘upon a sudden, there appeared unto them a vision, or spirit assuming the shape of a woman, waist high, upright in the water, naked, her hair dishevelled, very white, and her eyes seeming to twinkle in her head, and her skin as white as snow; which spirit or vision, seeming to stand upright in the water, divulged, and often repeated the word “Revenge! Revenge! Revenge!”’ O’Neill sent a priest and a friar to question the figure both in English and Latin, but it answered nothing. He afterwards sent a trumpet to the nearest English force for a Protestant clergyman, by whom the same figure was seen and the cries of ‘Revenge!’ heard, but Mrs. Price does not say she was present on this occasion. The evidence of this lady shows no marks of a wandering mind, and yet it is evident that she believed in an apparition. It is quite possible that some crazed woman who had lost all that was dear to her may have haunted the spot and cried for vengeance, but in any case a belief in ghosts was still general in those days, and especially in Ireland. The evidence as to the massacre is overwhelming.[296 - Depositions of Mrs. Rose Price and four others, Hickson, i. 176-188. Writing after the Restoration with a view of minimising the massacre, Ormonde says the greatest number murdered in any one place was at Portadown, ‘and they not above 200’ —Carte MSS. vol. lxiii. f. 126. As to curious instances of modern ghost-seers see Sir A. Lyall’s Asiatic Studies, 2nd series, chap. 5. Lady Fanshawe saw and heard an apparition in Clare in 1650, Memoirs, p. 58, ed. 1907.]

Bedell at Kilmore

He is allowed to relieve many Protestants

He refuses to leave his post

He is imprisoned at Lough Oughter

He is released

Fate of his library

Bedell was at Kilmore when the rebellion broke out. The Protestants were surprised, but it was remembered afterwards that there had been an invasion or migration of rats, and that caterpillars had appeared in unusual numbers. It was more to the purpose that a crack-brained Irish scholar who wandered from house to house was heard frequently to exclaim, ‘Where is King Charles now?’ and that he wrote in an old almanac ‘We doubt not of France and Spain in this action’ – words which he may have heard in some conventicle of the Irish. The fugitive Protestants crowded to Kilmore, where they were all sheltered and fed, the better sort in the palace and the rest in out-buildings. The bishop’s son, who was there, likens the stream of poor stripped people to ‘Job’s messengers bringing one sad report after another without intermission.’ After a few days, Edmund O’Reilly, the sheriff’s father, ordered Bedell to dismiss his guests, who were about 200, chiefly old people, women and children. On his refusal those in the detached buildings were attacked at night and driven out almost naked into the cold and darkness. The bishop’s cattle were seized, but he had stored some grain in the house, and was still able in an irregular way to relieve many stray Protestants. On one occasion he sallied forth to rescue some of them, and two muskets were placed against his breast. He bade them fire, but they went away, and still for some time the palace walls were allowed to shelter those within. One of these was John Parker, afterwards Bishop of Elphin, who had fled from his living at Belturbet. ‘For the space of three weeks,’ says Parker, ‘we enjoyed a heaven upon earth, much of our time spent in prayer, reading God’s word, and in good conference; inasmuch as I have since oft professed my willingness to undergo (if my heart did not deceive me) another Irish stripping to enjoy a conversation with so learned and holy a man.’ Church service was regularly continued, but the investment of the house became closer, Bedell resolutely refusing to quit his post, although the Irish urged him to leave the country and promised all his company safe convoy to Dublin. His own children wished him to accept this offer, and it is probable that the Bishop himself and possible that his guests might have reached the capital in safety, but the experience of others had not been encouraging. Some prisoners having been taken by the Scottish garrisons at Keilagh and Croghan, and Eugene Swiney, the rival Bishop of Kilmore, pressing for restoration to his palace, Bedell and his family were at last expelled. ‘I arrest you,’ said Edmund O’Reilly, laying his hand on the Bishop’s shoulder, ‘in the King’s name.’ Having first arranged that the Church plate provided by himself should be handed over to the other Bishop, Bedell was conveyed to a castle upon an island in Lough Oughter. He was allowed to take his money with him, and his two sons with their wives accompanied him. They were well treated on the whole, but the castle had neither glass nor shutters to the windows, and they spent a cold Christmas. Some of the prisoners were in irons, and Bedell earnestly desired to share their fate, but this was refused. The party were dependent on the Irish for news, and at first they heard much of the disaster at Julianstown and of the certain fall of Drogheda. But an English prisoner who knew Irish listened one night through a chink in the floor, and heard a soldier fresh from Drogheda tell the guard that the siege was raised. ‘The bullets,’ he said, ‘poured down as thick from the walls as if one should take a fire-pan full of coals and pour them down upon the hearth, which he acted before them, sitting altogether at the fire. And for his own part he said he would be hanged before he would go forth again upon such a piece of service.’ At last Bedell and his sons were exchanged for some of those in the hands of the Scots, and released from the castle. The Bishop’s remaining days were spent in the houses of Dennis Sheridan, a clergyman ordained and beneficed by him, whose vicarage was near at hand. Sheridan, though a Protestant, was a Celt, and respect for his clan secured him a certain toleration. He was instrumental in saving some of Bedell’s books, among them a Hebrew Bible, now at Emmanuel College, Cambridge, and the Irish version of the Old Testament which had cost so much trouble, and which was not destined to be printed for yet another generation. Most of the books and manuscripts were taken away first by friars and afterwards by English soldiers, who sold them. ‘Certain of the Bishop’s sermons,’ says his son, ‘were preached in Dublin, and heard there by some of his near relations, that had formerly heard them from his own mouth: some even of the episcopal order were not innocent in this case.’

Bedell’s death, Feb. 9, 1641-2

Respect shown him by the Irish

Bedell remained for some weeks with Sheridan, preaching often and praying with those that were left to him. The house was crowded with fugitives, and typhus fever broke out among them. Old and enfeebled by his imprisonment, the Bishop insisted on ministering to the sick, and was at last struck down himself. Philip MacMulmore O’Reilly came to see him, offering money and necessaries, and cursing those who had contrived the rebellion. Bedell, though very weak, rose from his chair to thank him, ‘desiring God to requite him for the same and to restore peace to the nation; though hardly able to stand, he yet beyond expectation thus expressed himself without any faltering in his speech, which he had not done for a great while before.’ The effort exhausted him, and he spoke but little afterwards, answering, ‘Well’ to those who asked him how he did and saying ‘Amen’ to their prayers. His last words were, ‘Be of good cheer; whether we live or die we are the Lord’s.’ Bishop Swiney made some difficulty about burying his rival in Kilmore churchyard, but was overruled by the O’Reillys. Many Irish attended the funeral, and some of the Sheridans bore the coffin; Edmund O’Reilly and his son the sheriff, with other gentlemen brought a party of musketeers and a drum, which was beaten as at a soldier’s burial. ‘The sheriff told the Bishop’s sons they might use what prayers or what form of burial they pleased; none should interrupt them. And when all was done, he commanded the musketeers to give a volley of shot, and so the company departed.’ Another account says that some priests present ejaculated, ‘Requiescat in pace ultimus Anglorum,’ and that one of them, Edmund Ferrely, added a fervent prayer that his own soul might accompany the Protestant bishop’s – ‘O sit anima mea cum Bedello.’ The general goodwill extended to those about him, and none of his family or immediate friends appear to have been personally molested.[297 - The best authority for Bedell is the Life by his son William, edited by T. Wharton Jones for the Camden Society, 1872. The narrative of his younger son Ambrose is printed by Miss Hickson, i. 218. Burnet had the materials of his biography from the Rev. Alexander Clogie, Bedell’s son-in-law, who was also with him when he died. Burnet admitted that he had written everything down as Clogie imparted it, and without exercising any critical discretion. Clogie’s own account was printed from the Harl. MSS. in 1862, ed. W. W. Wilkins, but its authority is inferior to that of Bedell’s two sons. The narratives of William Bedell and Clogie are reprinted with much additional matter in Two Biographies, ed. Shuckburgh, Cambridge, 1902. Bishop Parker’s account, written for Ormonde in 1682, is in Hickson, i. 308.]

The English defeated at Julianstown, Nov. 29, 1641

Importance of this affair

Good officers were scarce, but six hundred raw recruits were sent under Major Roper, who was a young man, to reinforce Tichborne, and Sir Patrick Wemyss accompanied them with fifty horse of Ormonde’s troop. They might easily have reached Drogheda early on the morrow, but the new levies were mutinous, and refused to go further than Swords on the first day or than Balrothery on the second. At seven on the morning of November 29 they were at Lord Gormanston’s gate, and Roper went in to see him. He was informed that the Irish had crossed the Boyne to intercept him, and that he had better be careful. Roper did not even warn his officers, but marched on with little precaution. He crossed the Nanny river by Julianstown bridge in a thick fog, and was there attacked by a greatly superior force under Philip MacHugh O’Reilly, Hugh O’Byrne, and O’More. Roper’s men were better armed, but scarcely knew how to use their weapons. The fog made their assailants seem stronger than they really were, and the foot yielded to panic and broke almost without striking a blow. Wemyss easily reached Drogheda, and Roper with two captains and a hundred men followed him; but all, or nearly all, the rest were killed, and the Irish, who did not lose a man, were at once supplied with arms. ‘The men,’ says Ormonde, ‘were unexercised, but had as many arms, I think, within a few, as all the rebels in the kingdom, and were as well trained as they.’ But among the insurgents were plenty of Strafford’s disbanded soldiers, who knew how to use muskets, and Protestant prisoners in Ulster remarked how much the Julianstown affair added to the confidence of the Irish.[298 - Bellings; Aphorismical Discovery; Tichborne’s letter; Ormonde’s letters of November 30 in Carte’s Ormonde, vol. iii., and another of December 1 in Confederation and War, i. 232; Bernard’s Whole Proceedings.]

Belfast and Carrickfergus saved

The Irish defeated at Lisburn

Lord Conway’s library burned

Carrickfergus was the ancient seat of English power in Ulster, and thither the Protestants of Down and Antrim fled in great numbers. The rising settlement of Belfast was near being abandoned, but Captain Robert Lawson heard of the outbreak at Newry, gave up his journey to Dublin, and hurried back to the Lagan. Lord Chichester was actually on board ship, but Lawson bought a drum and perambulated the town, seized all the arms he could find, and soon got nearly 200 men together. Before Sir Phelim O’Neill could hope to attack Carrickfergus it was necessary to take both Belfast and Lisburn, and the latter place was attacked by Sir Con Magennis with several thousand men the day before the disaster at Julianstown. The Ulster Irish had by this time collected a good many arms, including two field pieces, and they had taken plenty of powder at Newry. The garrison consisted only of Lord Conway’s troop and of a few newly raised men, but they were skilfully commanded by Sir Arthur Tyringham, the late governor of Newry, and Sir George Rawdon, whom all trusted, arrived from Scotland on the evening before the town was attacked. Taking advantage of the ground, Tyringham held the streets all day, his cavalry slaughtering the assailants in great numbers. There had been snow the day before, followed by a thaw, and then by frost, so that the ground was covered with ice. ‘All the smiths,’ says one of the besieged, ‘had been employed that whole night to frost our horses, so that they stood firm when the brogues slipped and fell down under their feet.’ Communication with Belfast was kept up, and Chichester sent many horse-loads of powder in bags, so that the ammunition held out. At nightfall the Irish set fire to the town, which was entirely consumed, and a confused fight went on till near midnight. After the fire began Chichester’s troop of horse arrived with a company of foot, and the assailants were finally discomfited. ‘Every corner was filled with carcases, and the slain were found to be more than thrice the number of those that fought against them.’ The field pieces appear to have been thrown into the river. Next day the retreating Irish burned Rawdon’s house at Brookhill containing Lord Conway’s library, and property worth five or six thousand pounds, but they never gained military possession of the Belfast district, though many Protestants were driven out of the open country.[299 - Lawson’s narrative in Benn’s Hist. of Belfast, p. 99. Brief Relation of the miraculous victory, &c. in Ulster Journal of Archæology, i. 242. Letter of Throgmorton Totesbury, December 4, 1641, Rawdon Papers, p. 86.]

The gentry of the Pale combine with the Irish

Speech of O’More

There have been many occasions in Irish history when the Government has lacked power either to put down its enemies or to protect its friends. The gentry of the Pale would hardly have joined the rebels on account of such an affair as Julianstown, but they had grievances, and the Irish managers pressed them both with arguments and threats. As governor of Meath, Lord Gormanston called upon the sheriff to summon a county meeting, which was held upon Crofty Hill, about three miles to the south of Drogheda. It had been previously arranged that a deputation from the Ulster Irish should appear there, and in due time O’More with Philip MacHugh O’Reilly, Hugh O’Byrne and others rode up ‘in the head of a guard of musketeers, whom the defeat at the bridge of Julianstown had furnished with arms of that kind.’ Gormanston, who was supported by the Earl of Fingall and five other peers, acted as spokesman and asked the newcomers why they came armed into the Pale. In a prepared speech O’More answered that they had been goaded into action by penal laws which excluded them from the public service, and from educational advantages. ‘There can,’ he said, ‘be no greater mark of servitude than that our children cannot come to speak Latin without renouncing their spiritual dependence on the Roman Church, nor ourselves be preferred to any advantageous employment, without forfeiting our souls.’ The Lords Justices, he added, had refused parliamentary redress, lest they should be prevented from extirpating Catholicism with the help of a Scotch army. To crown all, they had branded the Ulster chiefs as rebels, whereas one of their greatest motives had been to vindicate the royal prerogative from encroachment ‘by the malignant party of the Parliament of England.’ In conclusion, he called upon the gentry of the Pale to join the party whose interest and sufferings were the same as their own. When the applause subsided, Gormanston asked the Ulstermen whether their loyalty was genuine. The answer was of course affirmative, and he then invited those around him to make common cause with the Irish. ‘And thus,’ philosophises Bellings, ‘distrust, aversion, force, and fear united the two parties which since the conquest had at all times been most opposite, and it being first publicly declared that they would repute all such enemies as did not assist them in their ways, they appointed a second meeting of the country at the hill of Tara.’[300 - Bellings’ account corresponds closely with the deposition of Nicholas Dowdall, sheriff of Meath, printed in Confederation and War in Ireland, i. 278. Dowdall was present at the hill of Crofty, and Bellings probably was.]

Meeting at Tara, Dec. 7, 1641

The lords of the Pale refuse to go to Dublin

Sir Phelim O’Neill’s manœuvres

The die was now cast, and a summons from the Lords Justices calling the chief men of the Pale to a conference at Dublin came too late. The meeting at Tara took place on December 7, and an answer was then returned signed by seven peers to the effect that they were afraid to put themselves into the power of the Government, and thought it safer to stand on their guard. They had, they said, been informed that Sir Charles Coote had spoken words at the Council table, ‘tending to a purpose and resolution to execute upon those of our religion a general massacre.’ The Lords Justices answered that they had never heard Coote say anything of the kind, and that anyone who made any such suggestion should be severely punished; and they again summoned the lords of the Pale to be at Dublin on the 17th. Ormonde personally gave his word of honour that they should return safely, and urged them not to lose this last opportunity of showing their loyalty. But they had gone too far to draw back, their tenants and dependents had gone still further, and Sir Phelim O’Neill persuaded them, as they were ready to believe, that he had great resources. He arranged a sham powder factory, and so acted his part as to make them think he could turn out an unlimited supply. The story reads like fiction, but Bellings records it in sober earnest, and he must have known. O’Neill had no military experience or capacity, but his confidence imposed upon the hesitating men of the Pale, who not only gave him chief command in the attack on Drogheda, but also a sort of commission as governor of Meath.[301 - Summonses were sent on December 3 to the Earls of Kildare (printed in Nalson, ii. 906), Antrim, and Fingall, Viscounts Gormanston, Netterville, and Fitzwilliam, Lords Trimleston, Dunsany, Slane, Howth, Louth, and Lambert. Fingall, Gormanston, Slane, Dunsany, Netterville, Louth, and Trimleston signed the answer.]