Ireland under the Tudors. Volume 3 (of 3)

Utter rout of the Irish

O’Donnell flies to Spain

Disastrous retreat

‘The Earl of Clanricarde,’ says Mountjoy, ‘had many fair escapes, being shot through his garments, and no man did bloody his sword more than his lordship that day, and would not suffer any man to take any of the Irish prisoners, but bid them kill the rebels.’ He despatched a score at least with his own hand, and the Lord-Deputy knighted him on the field among the dead bodies, some of which were probably those of his kinsmen. The pursuit continued for two miles, and the slaughter must have been much greater but that the half-starved horses could go no farther. The whole army was paraded, and public thanksgiving was offered for the victory. Indeed, both sides spoke of a special interposition of Providence, and old prophecies were remembered or invented to suit the occasion. Greatly dejected, Tyrone withdrew to Innishannon, and no further attempt was made to relieve Kinsale. ‘There prevailed,’ say the annalists, ‘much reproach on reproach, moaning and dejection, melancholy and anguish, in every quarter throughout the camp. They slept not soundly, and scarcely did they take any refreshment.’ Next day it was decided that O’Donnell and others should go to Spain, and that his brother Rory with the rest of the Ulster chiefs should go home, Tyrrell and some of the Burkes remaining in Munster under the general command of O’Sullivan Bere. With a shrewd knowledge of Irish politics O’Donnell urged that the whole army should remain in the south until he could bring fresh reinforcements from Spain, for that those who had been affectionate and kind to them when advancing, would plunder and mock them on their return. Tyrone was perhaps ready to renew the conflict in Munster, but the Celtic army broke up into its component parts, and each clan struggled northwards separately under its own chief. Their road was by Mallow, Croom, and Abington, and O’Donnell’s words came true, for ‘they which did kiss them in their going forward, did both strip them, and shoot bullets at them on their return, and for their arms they did drown them and tread them down in every bog and soft place.’ 200 perished in crossing the Blackwater, the Maigue, and the Mulkear. Horseflesh was their only food, the wearied animals sinking with the wounded, who were left to their fate, or being killed by riders whom they could no longer carry. The principal chiefs were borne in litters, and Tyrone arrived quite unexpectedly in Cavan, where he killed a few cows for his exhausted followers. Not less than 3,000 men and 500 horses were believed to have been lost, besides all baggage, and the survivors were utterly demoralised. ‘A troop of women,’ said Carew, ‘might have beaten Tyrone’s army.’[391 - Four Masters, 1602; Lord Deputy and Council to the Privy Council, Jan. 14; Carew to same, Jan.; Sir F. Stafford to Cecil (from Newry) Jan. 14; Clanricarde to Cecil (from Cork) Jan. 15. ‘The rebels are utterly forsaken of all aid from the Spaniards, and not able to make any head. O’Donnell is made away for Spain, as we think. I do not think we have lost fewer than 3,000 men; by fights and hurts not above 300, all the rest by sickness.’ Captain A. Enfield, R.N., to Fulke Greville, Jan. 6, in 12th Report of Historical MSS. Commission —Coke MSS.]

Spaniards and Irish

Kinsale capitulates

Bagenal’s death was avenged, and his brother-in-law’s military reputation destroyed. Irish writers lay the chief blame on Don Juan d’Aguila, and yet he does not seem to have been the real cause of failure. His constant sallies certainly betray no inactivity, and the failure of Tyrone to keep the appointed time is quite enough to account for his not making one at the critical moment. His was the common fate of every Spaniard who had attempted to attack Elizabeth within the bounds of her hereditary possessions. Spanish organisation had become thoroughly bad, while that of the English improved daily. Mountjoy and Carew were good managers, but they were well seconded from home, and sometimes the Queen even anticipated their wants. She felt that her work would be incomplete if she left Ireland unsubdued, and the strength of her last years was ungrudgingly spent in that work. Don Juan saw that nothing could be made of an Irish alliance against such a Queen and such devoted servants. It was clear that Kinsale could never be relieved but by fresh efforts in Spain, and he had seen what Irish storms and English sailors could do. The town would be taken by assault, and the accompanying carnage would be of no service either to King or Pope. For six days after the battle the siege operations were resumed and the approaches brought very near the walls, and on the seventh Don Juan sent out his drum-major and an officer bearing a letter. He asked that a confidential messenger might be sent into the town to confer with him, an officer of like rank being given as surety for his safe return. Sir William Godolphin was accordingly sent in, and Don Pedro Enriquez came out into the camp. Don Juan told Godolphin that he had found the Irish weak and barbarous, and he could not be sure that they were not perfidious. Mountjoy, on the contrary, he had found a sharp and powerful enemy, and, on the whole, he was ready to capitulate. If fair conditions were not accorded, he would bury himself alive rather than yield. He professed not to be urged by necessity, but by a just disdain and spleen conceived against the Irish. Godolphin returned with his message, and on his second visit he was authorised to hold out hope of fair terms. Mountjoy took care to say that he had the game in his own hands, as indeed he had, but he was anxious to save blood and to show her Majesty’s clemency. Where both sides wished for peace there could be little difficulty about arranging the terms. Don Juan declared that he felt himself absolved from all engagements to the Irish. His master had sent him to co-operate with the Condees O’Neill and O’Donnell, who had long delayed their coming; and when they did come they were shamefully defeated by a handful of men, and ‘blown asunder into divers parts of the world.’ O’Neill had fled to Ulster, and O’Donnell to Spain, ‘so as now,’ he said, ‘I find no such Condees in rerum naturâ (for those were the very words he used) as I came to join withal, and therefore have moved this accord the rather to disengage the King, my master, from assisting a people so unable in themselves that the whole burden of the war must lie upon him, and so perfidious as perhaps might be induced in requital of his favour at last to betray him.’[392 - A short relation of the siege of Kinsale in Carew (No. 202) signed by Mountjoy, Carew, and others. O’Sullivan and others say the English outnumbered Tyrone’s forces. It is true that the Irish made no general or united effort, but only a small section of Mountjoy’s army was actually engaged. Moryson, who was present, says the former were 6,000 foot and 500 horse, the latter barely 1,200 and 400.]

Terms granted to the Spaniards

Both parties were eager for a settlement, for the loss by sickness had been great on the Queen’s side; and the negotiations were short. Don Juan undertook to surrender not only Kinsale, but also Castle Haven, Baltimore, and Dunboy. Mountjoy contracted for the safe conveyance of all the Spaniards and their allies into Spain, and for their victualling and good treatment during the necessary interval. The Spaniards were bound not to serve again against Queen Elizabeth until after they had been actually landed in Spain. More than 3,000 officers and soldiers were embarked under the terms of this convention, besides many priests and monks, ‘and a great company of Irish.’ The articles were signed on the 2nd of January, on the 3rd Don Juan dined with Mountjoy, and on the 4th a Spanish ship appeared off Kinsale. A boat was sent out to say that the stranger might enter safely, for that Don John and the Lord Deputy were now very good friends. The Spanish captain hauled the boat’s crew on board and at once made sail, and thus the first news of the surrender of Kinsale was carried to Spain about five weeks later. Another vessel with letters put into Berehaven, and the packet was sent up by land to Don Juan, who, with his principal officer, had accompanied Mountjoy to Cork. Carew, with the latter’s consent, had the messenger robbed on the road, but without hurting him. Don Juan’s suspicions were aroused, and he was not satisfied with the explanation given, but a proclamation was issued offering a reward for the discovery of the thieves. Spanish dignity was saved and Mountjoy kept the letters, which were of great importance. Large reinforcements were preparing in Spain, and the King wrote to say that he had heard of the defeat of Tyrone and O’Donnell, and that he nevertheless depended on Don Juan to maintain himself until help arrived. Details of the intended aid were given in other letters, and it was probable that had the news come earlier Kinsale would not have fallen, or at least would have had to be taken by storm. Carew had strongly urged that a golden bridge should be provided for a still formidable enemy, and the wisdom of this advice cannot be doubted.[393 - Translations of the letters from the Duke of Lerma and others are in Pacata Hibernia, ii. chap. xxvi., the terms of capitulation (Jan. 2, 1602) in chap. xxiii. See Carew to the Privy Council, Jan.]

O’Sullivan determines to defend Dunboy

Baltimore and Castle Haven were soon taken. The Spaniards gave no trouble, but the O’Driscolls made some futile attempts at resistance. At Berehaven the task was more serious. The Spaniards had increased the natural strength of Dunboy Castle by throwing up earthworks, on which they had mounted three small cannon. On hearing of the capitulation they were ready to surrender, but Donnell O’Sullivan refused to be bound by the articles. Bringing 1,000 men quietly under the walls, he mastered the castle by surprise and forced the Spanish captain and some gunners to remain. The other Spaniards were sent to Baltimore, and preparations were made for a desperate resistance. O’Sullivan wrote an eloquent letter to Philip III., as to his sovereign lord, in which he denied Don Juan’s right to surrender his castle, which alone protected his property and the people living along twenty leagues of coast. He begged for help, and if help could not be given, then he asked that means might at least be provided to carry himself and his family to Spain.[394 - Letters to the King of Spain and the Governor of Galicia in Pacata Hibernia, ii. chap. xxviii.]

Spanish ideas about Irish politics

Don Juan sailed on March 16. At Cork he lived familiarly with Carew, and presented him with a book on fortification as a keepsake. The Irish in Spain brought so many charges against Don Juan that he was imprisoned, and he died soon afterwards under restraint. He lived long enough to bring many counter-charges, and as late as 1618 there was a wretched Spanish sergeant in prison at Ghent, who believed that he owed his miseries to complaints made by Don Juan d’Aguila of his conduct at Kinsale. The Spaniards were getting tired of war with England, in which they were nearly always worsted, and of alliances with the Irish, which had brought them nothing but loss. Don Juan made direct advances to Mountjoy, and Captain Roger Harvey, Carew’s nephew, had a curious conversation at Baltimore with Don Pedro de Soto, an officer of high rank, who thought there was no real reason why England and Spain should be at war. King Philip, said this candid Spaniard, had indeed a great revenue, ‘but the infinite number of garrisons which he is daily forced to maintain, would devour another such Indies, if he had them.’ If the Queen would only stand neutral in the Netherland quarrel, there might easily be peace between two great nations. This conversation afterwards induced Carew to intrigue a little in Spain. Nothing came directly of it, but Don Pedro’s feelings were perhaps those of many in the peninsula, and the way was paved for a change as soon as Elizabeth was gone.[395 - Pacata Hibernia, ii. chap. xxix. and iii. chap. xiii. Don Pedro de Heredia to Lord Carew, April 1, 1618, and the answer, Oct. 21, both in Carew. Don Juan’s peaceful proposals are mentioned by Moryson.]

Importance of this siege

Excepting that of Londonderry, the siege of Kinsale is the most important in Irish history. Spain was to Elizabeth what the French monarchy was to William III. In both cases England headed the Protestant world against what threatened to become a European despotism. In both cases Ireland was used by the dominant Catholic power to create a diversion, and not for her own sake. The defeat of Tyrone and the subsequent surrender of Kinsale put an end to Spanish attempts on Ireland, as the breaking of the boom across the Foyle made French attempts virtually hopeless. In both cases it became evident that whoever ruled in London must necessarily be supreme upon both sides of St. George’s Channel. D’Avaux, and even James II. himself, had as little sympathy with the Irish as Juan d’Aguila.

Reception of the news by Queen Elizabeth

The official account of the battle of Kinsale was sent over by Henry Danvers, and the Queen gave most gracious thanks to Mountjoy, as well as to Thomond and Clanricarde. But Carew contrived that the first news should be brought to London by his friend Boyle, whose activity and good fortune were shown in a remarkable way. ‘I left my Lord President,’ he said, ‘at Shandon Castle, near Cork, on Monday morning about two of the clock, and the next day delivered my packet, and supped with Sir Robert Cecil, being then principal Secretary, at his house in the Strand; who, after supper, held me in discourse till two of the clock in the morning, and by seven that morning called upon me to attend him to the court, where he presented me to her Majesty in her bedchamber; who remembered me, calling me by name, and giving me her hand to kiss, telling me that she was glad that I was the happy man to bring the first news of the glorious victory. And after her Majesty had interrogated with me upon sundry questions very punctually, and that therein I gave her full satisfaction in every particular, she gave me again her hand to kiss, and commanded my despatch for Ireland, and so dismissed me with grace and favour.’ Boyle does not say by what route he made the journey from Cork to London in such a wonderfully short time; but the place of landing was probably Bristol. With a south-west wind and a flood tide in the Avon the feat is possible; but it is probably without a parallel. And great must have been the endurance of the man who, after galloping from Bristol to London, sat up talking till two in the morning, and was on his feet again at seven. The picture is a curious one, and it is interesting to note how this brilliant and successful man, writing more than thirty years afterwards and in the fulness of wealth and honours, is careful to record that he twice kissed Queen Elizabeth’s hand.[396 - The Queen to Mountjoy, Jan. 12, in Moryson; the Earl of Cork’s True Remembrances.]

Great cost of the war

The Queen was at first inclined to think the Spaniards had too easy terms, but declared herself satisfied when she had heard the whole story. The expense of the war and the waste of English blood was terrible, and she would not deprive even Tyrone of hope. He found means to make overtures very soon after the siege of Kinsale, and Cecil told Mountjoy privately that he did not think her inexorable, though the fear of being cajoled did not, as she wrote, ‘permit her to hold any other way with the arch-traitor than the plain way of perdition.’ But the capitulation had been granted ‘to save the blood of her subjects, dearer to her than revenge or glory,’ and the same consideration prevented her from driving Tyrone to desperation. In the meantime the army was to be reduced, and the rebellion extinguished in detail. Carew accompanied Mountjoy to Waterford and Kilkenny, whence he returned into Munster. The Lord Deputy went on to Dublin, where he lay inactive for some weeks, completely disabled by the hardships of the late siege.[397 - The Queen to Mountjoy, Feb. 8 1601; Cecil to Mountjoy, received July 8, both in Moryson.]

CHAPTER LII.

THE END OF THE REIGN, 1602-1603

The Spaniards still feared

Starvation by means of garrisons was Mountjoy’s prescription for the Irish malady, and this treatment he pursued to the end. But he continued to dread Spanish intervention, for, in common with most Englishmen of his time, he overestimated what was really a decaying and impoverished power. Cecil knew better, and throughout the spring and early summer of 1602 he continued to write in a rather contemptuous tone of Spanish intentions. In August he was able to say positively that there would be no invasion in force, though he could not promise that Philip would not send a few forlorn companies to keep up some sort of reputation in Europe, to put the Queen to cost, and ‘to fill the world with continual rumour of his undertaking humour.’ To Carew he wrote in the same strain, and with still greater freedom. It was impossible to keep Spanish ships from Irish harbours, ‘whereof there be more than the Queen hath ships,’ but the coast of Spain might be so harassed as to give them enough to do at home. Sir Richard Leveson was better employed taking carracks in the Tagus than he could be in Ireland, and between Hollanders and Englishmen the Catholic King was not likely to have many men to spare. But the Queen would not grudge the necessary outlay to make Cork, Kinsale, and some minor posts defensible. Thus encouraged, Mountjoy was free to attack Ulster, and he proceeded slowly, but surely, to draw the net round Tyrone.[398 - Cecil to Mountjoy, Aug. 7 in Moryson; to Carew of Feb. 9, 1602, and throughout that year in Maclean; Chamberlain’s Letters, June 27, 1602.]

Docwra and Chichester in Ulster

Docwra was supposed to have between three and four thousand men in Derry and Donegal, Chichester nearly 1,000 at Carrickfergus; and about 800 more were in Lecale and in the garrisons at Mount Norris, Armagh, Blackwater, and Newry. Mountjoy had over 3,000 under his own command, and at the beginning of June he advanced to Dundalk. Docwra had established a post at Omagh, and had no difficulty in joining the Lord Deputy at Dungannon, while Chichester ferried his contingent over Lough Neagh. Tyrone, who had laid Dungannon in ashes, was forced out of his country into the almost inaccessible wilds of Glenconkein, and his deserted strongholds were taken. In one three guns were recovered, probably those taken at Blackwater. A new fort was built and manned at Mountjoy on Lough Neagh. Provisions falling short in July, Docwra was sent back to collect and victual a force at Omagh, with which Chichester, who now had hopes of ‘soon beheading that wood-kerne Tyrone,’ could co-operate from his fortified post at Castle Toome on Lough Neagh. Mountjoy retired towards Monaghan, taking all the small strengths in that direction, though not entirely without loss from sharp-shooters, and wrote home to urge the positive necessity of keeping the garrisons on foot. Tyrone was now driven from place to place like a hunted hare; but if the efforts to run him down were allowed to relax, he would gain strength quickly, and all the work would have to be done over again.[399 - Moryson, May 30 to July 19, on which day Mountjoy reached Monaghan; Chichester to Cecil, June 20 and 2_]

The Queen disinclined to spare Tyrone

Tyrone was now begging earnestly for mercy, but the fate of Essex warned Mountjoy against meddling with so dangerous a person. The rebel would not come in upon his bare word, nor would he give that word; for to detain him afterwards would be dishonourable, while he might be blamed for letting him go. He could only urge that while Tyrone was lowest was the best time to bring him to terms. After much hesitation the Queen was induced to promise him his life, but through Mountjoy only, and without divulging anything to the Council. Cecil saw no reason why she should not publish it to all the world. If peace could only be dreamed of, he said, ‘for saving of Christian blood and of miseries of her natural people from hence hourly sent to the shambles!.. but her Majesty is the kingdom, and myself her humble vassal.’ Negotiations went on through the latter half of 1602, and in the meantime Mountjoy prosecuted the war. He gave out publicly that the Queen had resolved never to pardon Tyrone, but let him know that he himself might possibly become a suitor for him. That depended on how he behaved; ‘and yet,’ he wrote, ‘I have told him that I will cut his throat in the meantime if I can.’[400 - Mountjoy to Cecil, June 5, 1602, and Jan. 8, 1603; Cecil to Windebank, June 15, 1602. Windebank read the latter to the Queen.]

Carew reduces Munster

Carew had nominally nearly 5,000 men to complete the reduction of Munster, but the real number was much less. Nearly half of the available force was sent, under Thomond’s command, to ravage the country west of Kinsale and on both sides of Bantry Bay. Carew himself left Cork six weeks later, and made his first halt on Tyrone’s late camping-ground near Carrigaline. Nights were spent at Timoleague, Rosscarbery, and Castle Haven, and Baltimore was reached on the fifth day. In crossing the mountains between Skibbereen and Bantry Bay slight resistance was made by some of the O’Driscolls and O’Sullivans, but Dunnemark was reached in safety on the eighth day from Cork. This place is called Carew Castle by the President, who is careful to note that it belonged to his ancestors, and that the Irish name was derived from their title of marquis. It is two miles to the north of Bantry, and was found a convenient place to collect the cattle and ponies of the neighbouring country. An O’Daly, whose ancestors had been hereditary bards of the old Carews, was here caught tampering with Owen O’Sullivan, and was sent for trial to Cork. The Spaniards in Dunboy were warned that they could expect no quarter if they remained there. If they left before the siege began they would be sent safely to Spain, and Carew suggested that they might deserve greater favour by spiking the guns or disabling the carriages before they came away. No notice was taken of this message, and the army lay at Dunnemark until all was ready for the attack on Dunboy.[401 - Journal among R.O. MSS. Ireland, April 23 to May 7; Pacata Hibernia, book ii. chaps. ii. and iii.]

Kerry

Early in February Carew sent Sir Charles Wilmot to Kerry with a force sufficient to overcome what remained of the rebellion there. Lixnaw Castle was taken, and Lord Fitzmaurice driven away into the mountains of Desmond. Carrigafoyle was found deserted and partly dismantled. The Dingle peninsula was thoroughly ransacked, the castles all taken, and the Knight of Kerry driven into Desmond. The cattle in Iveragh were also collected, and their owners forced into the woods of Glengariffe. Wilmot’s road to Bantry Bay lay by Mucross and Mangerton – ‘a most hideous and uncouth mountain’ – and great preparations were made to attack him by the way. Carew moved up as far as Carriganass, and in the end the Irish showed no fight, though trees had been felled and breastworks erected at every point of vantage. The junction of the two forces was effected, and on the same day ships came from Cork. The army had provisions left for only two days, and would have been forced to retreat but for this seasonable aid.[402 - Pacata Hibernia, book iii. chaps. iii. and iv.]

Dunboy Castle

Dermot Moyle MacCarthy, Florence’s brother, had been in Ulster the year before, and Carew had then declared his intention to plague him on his return. He thought him both wiser and braver than Florence himself, and certainly more popular with the scattered swordsmen – half soldiers, half caterans – who still maintained the rebellion. Reduced to want by Carew and Wilmot, this chief took some cows belonging to MacCarthy Reagh, and while fighting for their possession was killed by his own first cousin. To prevent his head from being exposed at Cork, as the President had threatened, the dead man was conveyed to Timoleague Abbey and there buried by a friar with great solemnity. After this it was judged impossible to take a military train round by Glengariffe, and it was decided to cross Bantry Bay. Tyrrell seems to have understood that the game was up, and would have been ready to join Thomond; but the Jesuit Archer prevented him, and he failed to come to the parley which he had himself asked for. The weather was very bad all this time, which the superstitious attributed to Archer’s conjury, but Carew said he hoped soon to conjure his head into a halter. And yet he was not altogether incredulous himself. ‘The country of Bere,’ he wrote, ‘is full of witches. Between them and Archer I do partly believe the devil hath been raised to serve their turn.’ Nevertheless Thomond established himself in Bere Island by June 1, and here he had an interview with Richard MacGeohegan, who held Dunboy for O’Sullivan. The Earl argued that the castle must fall, and urged the constable to gain credit by yielding it in time, while the latter tried to make out that the besiegers ran upon certain defeat, and could never even land in face of such strong fortifications. Neither persuaded the other, and Carew went on with his preparations.[403 - Journal, May 13 to June 1; Carew to Cecil, Aug. 6, 1601, May 29, 1602; Pacata Hibernia, book iii. chap. v.; Carew to Mountjoy, June 1 1602, in Carew.]

Carew at Berehaven

In spite of the witches, the army was transported into Bere Island without much difficulty. The sandy bay near Dunboy was found strongly fortified, and Carew resolved to make a false attack. The little island of Dinish was seized and two guns mounted on it, the fire of which occupied the defenders of the works on shore. The main body was then quietly ferried across Berehaven to a point westward of Dinish and close to Castletown. High ground hid the landing-place from the castle, and when the stratagem was at last discovered the Irish had to go round a deep creek. They found Carew’s men ready for them, and were worsted in the skirmish which followed. Tyrrell was wounded. Archer narrowly escaped, leaving his missal behind him, as well as a servant, who was immediately executed. On the morrow a camp was pitched half a mile to the north-east. Next day the work of entrenching began, materials for gabions having to be brought from a wood nearly two miles away. The artillery was landed in full view of the castle and without damage from its fire, but Carew did not begin to batter until the eleventh day after landing. In the meantime the Irish had taken courage from the arrival of a Spanish vessel at Kilmakilloge in Kenmare Bay. She brought 12,000l., much ammunition, and letters urging the Irish chiefs to remain firm. But perhaps the most important part of the cargo was Owen MacEgan, Bishop-designate of Ross and Vicar Apostolic or Nuncio, for he is called by both titles, who had absolute ecclesiastical authority over all Munster. He was able to impress the defenders of Dunboy with the idea that a great Spanish force would immediately come to their relief, and they imagined that they could hold out for two or three months.[404 - Journal June 1-17; Carew to the Privy Council, Jan. 22, 1603; Pacata Hibernia, book iii. chaps. vi. vii. and viii.]

An island stronghold

The Irish had built a small fort in the island of Dursey, which they intended for their last refuge. It was defended by forty men and three pieces of Spanish artillery. Captain Bostock and Owen O’Sullivan were sent by Carew, with 160 men, to reduce this remote stronghold. The water being tolerably smooth, the Queen’s pinnace was brought up near enough to attack from the sea side, and the bulk of the men were landed in boats. The soldiers showed so much dash in assaulting the fort that the garrison came out and surrendered as soon as the outwork was forced. They were taken to Carew’s camp, and all executed. Owen O’Sullivan recovered his wife, who had been O’Sullivan Bere’s prisoner since February. In this out-of-the way place Bostock found no less than 500 milch cows, besides wheat and oil, and the existence of such islands goes far to explain the long resistance of West Munster. Nothing could be done against them without ships, and ships were very seldom available.[405 - Journal, June 12.]

Capture of Dunboy

Two desperate men

Carew was a good artilleryman, as artillery was in his days, and he promised that Dunboy should fall within seven days after he had opened fire. Others expected a longer siege, but he was much better than his word. The fire of four guns, concentrated upon the castle, made it untenable within twenty-four hours. Tyrrell’s attempt upon the camp had been fruitless, and it was plain that there was no chance of relief. After four hours’ fire a turret fell in, burying many under its ruins. In another four hours the west front of the castle collapsed, and dice were cast to decide who should lead the stormers. The post of honour and danger fell to Captain Doddington’s company, and his lieutenant, Francis Kirton, was the first man to enter the breach. Kirton was wounded in three places, but he made good his ground, and Carew’s colours were soon planted on a commanding point of the works. The besiegers still fought, but their guns were carried with a rush, and the whole place was now commanded. Forty men tried to escape by sea, but armed boats guarded that side, and they were killed. Among them was Melaghlin O’More, the man who pulled Ormonde off his horse when he was captured two years before. Seventy-seven men were left, and would have surrendered at sunset upon promise of life only; but this was denied, and the Jesuit Dominick O’Colan came out by himself. Next morning, twenty-six more gave themselves up, including two Spaniards and one Italian, who were all that remained of the foreign gunners. MacGeohegan was mortally wounded, and Thomas Taylor, an Englishman’s son, but married to Tyrrell’s niece, was chosen commander in his room. Taylor shut himself up in the vault with nine barrels of powder, and with a lighted match in his hand swore to blow all up unless he and his companions were promised their lives. His men prevented this, and forty-eight surrendered at discretion with him. When the English officers entered, they found MacGeohegan still living. With a lighted candle in his hand, he staggered towards an open powder-barrel, but Captain Power held him back, and the soldiers killed him. Of the 140 picked men who composed the garrison, not one escaped. The powder was then spent in blowing up the walls, and the castle, from which so much had been expected, was laid level with the ground.[406 - Journal, June 17-18.]

Fate of the survivors

A Jesuit

In this, as in every such Irish siege, the actual capture was comparatively easy; the real difficulty was to reach these distant strongholds, and to maintain an army in the wilds. The garrison, champions of a lost cause and dupes of a feeble tyrant, deserved a better fate; but Carew showed no mercy. Of the survivors fifty-eight were at once ‘hanged in pairs by the Earl of Thomond.’ Twelve of Tyrrell’s best men were respited for a time, but were also hanged when that leader declared that he would remain true to his master the King of Spain. Taylor was taken to Cork, and hanged in chains near the north gate on the discovery that he had taken a principal part in George Bingham’s murder. O’Colan, whom the English called Collins, was closely examined at Cork, and Catholic accounts say that he was tortured. He gave no useful information, but freely told the strange story of his own life. Born at Youghal, and educated at a Jesuit school there, he went at the age of seventeen to France, made some money as a waiter in inns, and served the League for nine or ten years under the Duke of Mercœur. He rose to the rank of captain; and was recommended to the King of Spain by Don Juan D’Aguila, who was then in Brittany. Coming under the influence of the Jesuit Thomas White of Clonmel, who was rector of the Irish seminary at Salamanca, he was admitted, after a time, to the Society of Jesus, whose principles, we are told, he preferred to Dominican vigour or Franciscan rigour, but not to full priest’s orders; and Archer, who knew him only by reputation, asked that he might accompany him to Ireland. His military knowledge was perhaps thought useful at Dunboy. After keeping him a prisoner for about four months, Carew found that nothing would be gained by preserving his life, and he was hanged, drawn, and quartered at Youghal, meeting his fate with the greatest courage and in a manner most edifying to his co-religionists.[407 - Examination of Dominic Collins, July 9, 1602; Pacata Hibernia book iii. chap. ix.; Four Masters, 1602. There is a life of O’Colan in Hibernia Ignatiana, pp. 89-102.]

O’Donnell in Spain

Death and character of Hugh Roe O’Donnell

The fall of Dunboy prevented the King of Spain from sending prompt help, but he did not give up the idea. Rumours of fresh invasions were rife during the summer, and sooner or later O’Donnell might have returned with another army. That chief had sailed from Castle Haven immediately after the battle of Kinsale, and fugitives from Munster continued to join him whenever opportunity offered. He landed at Corunna, and went straight to the King at Zamora. Falling upon his knees he obtained favourable replies to three requests: that an army should be sent to Ireland; that the King, when he gained Ireland, would set no O’Donnell over him or his successors; and that he would never deny any right that the O’Donnells had ever had. Philip sent him back to Galicia, then under the government of his zealous friend, the Marquis of Caraçena. Exiles are ever sanguine, and he professed to have no doubt of ultimate success; but Spanish vacillation sorely tried his impatient spirit. When the surrender of Kinsale became known in Spain, some vessels intended for Ireland were unloaded, and Don Juan’s report was unfavourable. The disgrace of that unsuccessful commander revived O’Donnell’s credit, and the ship which brought over Bishop MacEgan and his 12,000l. was despatched. O’Donnell began to despair of a great fleet, and begged to be allowed to go with a few small vessels. He asked his friends in Ireland to let him know the whole truth, but to keep bad news from Spanish ears. This, of course, could not be done, and the arrival of Archer and a crowd of fugitives after the disaster at Dunboy, must have outweighed all his arguments. He sought the King again at Simancas, and there he died after an illness of seventeen days. His body was carried, with great pomp, to the royal palace at Valladolid, and buried in the Franciscan monastery with every mark of respect. His solemn requiem was the death-song of the Irish tribal system. Much romance cleaves to his name, but his ideas scarcely rose above those of an ordinary chief. Local supremacy was his main object, and the panegyric of the annalists fails to raise him to the height of a national hero. He was, they say, ‘the vehement, vigorous, stern, and irresistible destroyer of his English and Irish opposers.’ He died at thirty, but there is nothing to show that he would have even attempted the task of building a stable edifice with the shifting sands of Irish life.[408 - Four Masters, 1602; O’Donnell to O’Connor Kerry, May 24, in Carew; List of Irish refugees in Pacata Hibernia, book ii. chap. xxii. The extreme claim of the O’Donnells included not only Tyrconnell, but Tyrone, Fermanagh, and all Connaught; see Docwra’s Narration.]

Assassination plots

The Irish accounts do not suggest foul play, but Carew believed that O’Donnell had been poisoned by one James Blake, of Galway, who had announced his intention of killing him. Blake was not hired by Carew, but he would hardly have made him his confidant if he had not expected reward, and he it was who brought the first news of O’Donnell’s death to Munster. John Anias, who had been implicated in a plot to murder Elizabeth, had offered to kill Florence MacCarthy, and afterwards gave out that he had been suborned by Cecil to poison that troublesome person. Cecil and Carew employed Anias as a spy, but denied that he had ever said anything about poison, and had him hanged out of the way as soon as he could be caught. Neither Blake nor Anias would have dared to speak of such things to a modern statesman, but the morality of that age was different. A similar suspicion attaches to the death of Hugh O’Donnell’s brother, Rory, afterwards Earl of Tyrconnell. An Italian came to Sir Henry Wotton, who was then ambassador at Venice, and offered to kill Tyrone or Tyrconnell, but without mentioning their names or even seeming to know them correctly. Wotton said the Earls were of no importance, having run away because they could do no harm at home. No doubt proclaimed rebels might be justly slain; ‘yet,’ he added, ‘it was somewhat questionable whether it might be done honourably, your Majesty having not hitherto proceeded to the open proscription of them to destruction abroad, neither was it a course so familiar and frequent with us as in other states.’ Three months later Tyrconnell and his page died rather mysteriously at Rome, others of his party also sickening. Roman fever was probably to blame, though Wotton seems to have half-suspected poisoning, but in the interest of the papacy, and not of the King of England.’[409 - For James Blake’s designs see Carew to Mountjoy, May 28 and Oct. 9, in Carew and Pacata Hibernia, book iii. chap. xv. The story of John Anias may be read in the Life of Florence MacCarthy, Maclean’s Letters of Cecil to Carew, and in Pacata Hibernia, book iii. chap. vii. For Tyrconnell’s case see Wotton to James I., April 24, 1608, in Russell and Prendergast’s Calendar, and his subsequent letters in the same volume.]

Last struggles in Connaught

When O’Donnell sailed for Spain he left his brother Rory in charge of the clan, who led them through all Munster and Connaught. The vast herds which Hugh had taken from his neighbours were found grazing peacefully in Sligo, and Ballymote was given up by O’Gallagher to the acting chief. Sir Niel Garv was co-operating with Docwra, and kept his rival out of Donegal; but Rory allied himself with O’Connor Sligo, and sought help from Brian O’Rourke against Sir Oliver Lambert, who was pressing him from the Connaught side. Tibbot-ne-Long and others of the lower Burkes solicited Lambert’s help, and he came up from Galway with a strong force, while O’Rourke fought for his own hand and refused to help O’Donnell. Lambert says he might easily have been stopped either at Ballina or Ballysadare, but he reached Sligo without serious fighting. The town had been burned by O’Connor, and the castle was in ruins. O’Donnell passed his cattle over the Curlews, and across the Shannon into Leitrim. Lambert, though camping in places ‘where no Christians have been since the war begun,’ could never catch him, but took 200 cows and a keg of Spanish powder. When the English were in Leitrim, and when Leitrim was invaded in turn, O’Donnell was safe in Roscommon; but Lambert established communications with his friends at Ballyshannon. The O’Malleys and O’Flaherties infested the coast, and Sir Oliver had to provide a galley with fifty mariners and fifteen oars on a side, for these pirates spared no one, and Bingham had found it necessary to take similar precautions. Lambert thought Sligo would be a dainty place for a gentleman if walled, and he placed a garrison there, which was able to maintain itself until the end of the war.[410 - Lambert to Mountjoy, June 18, 1602; Four Masters.]