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IRELAND UNDER THE STUARTS
Vol. II.

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IRELAND

UNDER THE STUARTS

AND

DURING THE INTERREGNUM

BY

RICHARD BAGWELL, M.A.

AUTHOR OF ‘IRELAND UNDER THE TUDORS’

Vol. II. 1642-1660

WITH MAP

LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.

39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON

NEW YORK, BOMBAY, AND CALCUTTA

1909

All rights reserved

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CONTENTS
OF
THE SECOND VOLUME

MAP

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IRELAND UNDER THE STUARTS

CHAPTER XXI

MUNSTER AND CONNAUGHT, 1641-1642

There was no outbreak in Munster during November, but Lord President St. Leger knew that he had no real means of resisting one. The Lords Justices had drawn off most of the soldiers, the rest were occupied as garrisons, and practically he had only his own troop of horse to depend on. Before the end of the month the Leinster rebels had come nearly to the Suir, and he repaired with what men he could collect to Clonmel lest Lady Ormonde, who was at Carrick, should fall into the invaders’ hands. The gentlemen of Tipperary came to meet him, but could or would do nothing. ‘Every man stands at gaze, and suffers the rascals to rob and pillage all the English about them.’ Ormonde’s own cattle were driven off. St. Leger’s brother-in-law having been pillaged, he took indiscriminate vengeance, and some innocent men were probably killed. He as good as told the Tipperary magnates that they were all rebels. In the meantime the Leinster insurgents had crossed the estuary of the Suir in boats, and ravaged the eastern part of Waterford. St. Leger rode rapidly through the intervening mountains, though there was snow on the ground, and fell upon a party of plunderers at Mothel, near Carrick. The main body were pursued to the river, and for the most part killed. About seventy prisoners were taken to Waterford and there hanged. He returned to Clonmel and thence back to Doneraile, for he could do no more. ‘My horses,’ he told Ormonde, ‘are[Pg 2] quite spent; their saddles have been scarce off these fourteen days; nor myself nor my friends have not had leisure to shift our shirts ... the like war was never heard of—no man makes head, one parish robs another, go home and share the goods, and there is an end of it, and this by a company of naked rogues.’[1]

St. Leger’s rough ways might furnish an excuse, but had no real effect upon events. The flame steadily spread over the whole island, and the contest fell more and more into the hands of extreme men. The Tipperary insurgents were soon enrolled in companies, the leading part being taken by Theobald Purcell, titular baron of Loughmoe, and Patrick Purcell, who rose to distinction during the war. At the end of January Mountgarret, who acted as general, invaded Munster with a heterogeneous force. He was assisted by Michael Wall, a professional soldier, and accompanied by Viscount Ikerrin, Lords Dunboyne and Cahir, all three Butlers, and the Baron of Loughmoe. Kilmallock was easily taken, and the Irish encamped at Redshard, near Kildorrery, at the entry to the county of Cork. Broghill reckoned them at 10,000, of whom half were unarmed. The President, who had 900 foot and 300 horse, thought it impossible to dispute the passage, and preferred to parley. Mountgarret demanded freedom of conscience, the preservation of the royal prerogative, and equal privileges for natives with the English. St. Leger answered that they had liberty of conscience already, that he was not likely to do anything against the Crown, from whom he held everything, and that he himself was a native. At last, on February 10, articles were agreed upon by which the President agreed to abstain from all further hostilities, both sides covenanting to do each other no harm for one month. St. Leger was induced to grant these terms mainly by the sight of a commission from Charles with[Pg 3] the Great Seal attached, but Broghill believed that this was a mere trick, and the document fabricated. The President withdrew to Cork and Mountgarret into Tipperary. The armistice was ill kept by the Irish, who were under the influence of Patrick Purcell. Mountgarret never showed any military ability.[2]

St. Leger had long cherished the belief that Donough MacCarthy, Viscount Muskerry, would remain staunch. Muskerry, who had great possessions, and who was married to Ormonde’s sister, seems to have tried the impossible part of neutral, but was soon drawn into the vortex, and it was to him that the supposed commission to raise 4000 men had been made out. He tried to stop plundering, and even hanged a few thieves, but the open country soon became untenable for English settlers. Many flocked to Bandon, which was held by Cork’s son Lord Kinalmeaky. Others fled to Cork, Kinsale, and Youghal, to which latter place Sir Charles Vavasour brought the first reinforcement of 1000 men. Vavasour carried over the King’s proclamation of January 1 against the rebels, of which only forty copies had been printed, and Cork immediately forwarded it to the Lord President. ‘I like it exceedingly well in all parts of it,’ said St. Leger, ‘save only that it is come so late to light ... it were very good that we had some store of them to disperse abroad, for of this one little notice can be taken.’ Cork maintained himself at Youghal and his sons in other places. St. Leger, as soon as he had received reinforcements, relieved Broghill at Lismore, and took Dungarvan from the Irish. Of all the old nobility Lord Barrymore, who had married Cork’s daughter, alone stood firm and refused all offers from the Irish. On March 12 St. Leger wrote that he was practically besieged in Cork by a ‘vast body of the enemy lying within four miles of the town, under my Lord of Muskerry, O’Sullivan Roe, MacCarthy Reagh, and all the western gentry and forces to the number of about 5000.’ The nominal chief of this army was Colonel Garret Barry, an experienced[Pg 4] soldier, but without originality, and more fit for a subordinate than for a chief command. On April 13, two days before Ormonde’s victory at Kilrush, Inchiquin—who was married to St. Leger’s daughter, and had studied war in the Spanish service—persuaded his father-in-law to let him make a sally. With only 300 foot and two troops of horse he surprised the Irish camp at Rochfordstown, routed the ill-disciplined host completely, and pursued them for some miles towards Ballincollig and Kilcrea. Muskerry’s own luggage fell into the victor’s hands, and a great stock of corn, which was very welcome. The only serious fighting was in the attack of a small enclosure desperately defended by Florence McDonnell, called Captain Sougane, perhaps in memory of the last Desmond rebel. Inchiquin’s loss was little or nothing, and he was soon able to ship guns and take castles which obstructed the navigation of Cork harbour. The southern capital was relieved from all immediate danger.[3]

Limerick did not at first take any decided part, but stood upon its defence. Clonmel and Dungarvan admitted the Leinster insurgents in December, a few days after St. Leger’s raid. A party commanded by Ormonde’s brother Richard came to the gate of Waterford on the day after Christmas, but the mayor, Francis Briver, refused to let him in. Two other attempts were made before Twelfth Day. The mob of the town and a majority of the corporation were opposed to the mayor, but he held his own for some time, received English fugitives within the walls, and kept them there till shipping could be had for themselves and such[Pg 5] property as they had been able to carry away. His own life was frequently in danger, and his hand was badly bitten by a rioter who resisted arrest. On another day, says Mrs. Briver, who took an active part, ‘when I heard so many swords were drawn at the market cross against my poor husband, I ran into the streets without either hat or mantle and laid my hands about his neck and brought him in whether he would or no ... This and much more the mayor has suffered seeking to let their goods go with the English.’ Mountgarret was excluded, but in April his son Edmund was admitted with 300 men, and the townsmen gave up their cannon.[4]

Roger Jones, created Viscount Ranelagh, was Lord President of Connaught, and lay at Athlone with only a troop of horse and two companies of foot. The government of the county of Galway was vested by special patent in the Earl of Clanricarde, who positively refused the request of the Roscommon gentlemen to take command of their county, and thus ignore the Lord President’s authority. Mayo was entrusted by the Lords Justices to Lord Mayo and to Dillon, Viscount Costello, who were both at this time professing Protestants. Sir Francis Willoughby, the governor of Galway fort, was in Dublin when the rebellion broke out, and his son Anthony, who was young and violent, commanded in his absence. Clanricarde was at Portumna when he heard of the outbreak, and he at once warned the mayor of Galway to be on his guard. The Lords Justices refused to send arms from Dublin on the ground that the passage was not safe, but told him to take what he could find at Galway. A hundred calivers, many of them unserviceable, and as many pikes were all that could be had. His own castles of Portumna, Loughrea, and Oranmore were in a defensible state, and he came to Galway on November 6. Richard Boyle, Archbishop of Tuam, took refuge in the fort, and Clanricarde’s castle of Aghenure, on the western shore of Lough Corrib, was seized by the O’Flahertys. On the 11th a town-meeting was held, and the citizens resolved to[Pg 6] hold Galway for the King. During the next three months there were frequent acts of violence on both sides, Willoughby treating the citizens as conquered, and they retorting by capturing and confining his stray soldiers. On December 29 the lords of the Pale invited the nobility and gentry of the county of Galway to join them, urging the legal grievances under which Roman Catholics laboured, and the severe measures of Coote and others. This did not make Clanricarde’s task easier, but he came to Galway on February 5, and patched up an accommodation. On the 11th he left the town for a fortnight, and during the interval an outrage was committed in the neighbourhood which rivalled the worst of the Ulster atrocities.[5]

According to the Rev. John Goldsmith, there were about 1000 English and Scotch Protestants in Mayo, many of whom tried to save themselves by going to mass. He had a brother a priest, and it was owing to the Jesuit Malone and an unnamed friar that he escaped with his life. Several Protestants, including one Buchanan of Strade, and John Maxwell, Bishop of Killala, sought the protection of Sir Henry Bingham at Castlebar, but he refused to admit Goldsmith, who was a convert from Rome, lest his presence should increase the animosity of the Irish. Lord Mayo promised to convoy the whole party safely to Galway fort, and they set out on February 13, Malachy O’Queely, Roman Catholic Archbishop of Tuam, ‘faithfully promising the Lord of Mayo to accompany them with his lordship and several priests and friars, to see them safely conveyed and delivered in Galway, or at the Fort of Galway.’ The first night was spent at Ballycarra, the second at Ballinrobe, the third at the Neale, and the fourth at Shrule, where a bridge joins the counties of Mayo and Galway. Lord Mayo seems to have declined all responsibility outside of his own county, and on Sunday the 17th he dismissed his followers except one[Pg 7] company commanded by Edmund Burke, who proposed to go with them a few miles, and hand them over to an escort of the county Galway. Burke’s men began to plunder the unarmed fugitives before they were out of Lord Mayo’s sight, and he sent his son Sir Theobald to keep order; according to Theobald’s own account he ran over the bridge with his sword drawn to help the English, but was fired at and afterwards ‘conveyed away for the safety of his life.’ The promised escort, consisting of two companies of the O’Flahertys, then came up and joined the Mayo people in an indiscriminate massacre of men, women, and children. The Bishop of Killala and a few others were saved by the exertions of Ulick Burke, of Castle Hacket, but those killed were not far short of a hundred, including Dean Forgie of Killala and five other clergymen, of whom John Corbet was one. Thomas Johnson, vicar of Turlough, escaped to the house of Walter Burke, who treated him kindly and defended him. Young priests and friars asked Stephen Lynch, prior of Strade, in his presence whether it was not lawful to kill him as a heretic, and Lynch answered that it was as lawful as to kill a sheep or a dog. The insurgents threatening to burn Burke’s house if he kept Johnson any longer, he managed to convey him to Clanricarde’s castle at Loughrea, and he ‘ever after that time lived by the noble and free charity of that good earl, until of late his lordship sent him and divers other Protestants away with a convoy.’[6]

Clanricarde returned to Galway on March 1. After a fortnight’s argument he succeeded in getting both town and fort to make declarations of loyalty and of peaceable intentions towards each other. As soon as his back was turned the flames fanned by the clergy broke out afresh. A party of armed townsmen disguised as boatmen seized an English ship, murdered some of the crew, and towed her off in spite[Pg 8] of Willoughby’s fire. When Galway surrendered to Coote in 1652 the perpetrators of the outrage were specially excepted from pardon. The malcontents then closed the gates, disarmed all the English within the walls, took an oath of union, and invited the O’Flahertys and the Mayo insurgents to join them. Willoughby burned some of the suburbs to prevent the O’Flahertys from occupying them, and this military precaution still further exasperated the citizens. But Clanricarde collected a quantity of provisions at Oranmore and relieved the fort. His castle of Tirellan, which commanded the river, enabled him to blockade the town, the neighbourhood being constantly patrolled by cavalry. Supplies ceased to reach the market, and before the end of April the leading citizens were tired of resisting. While negotiations were proceeding a man of war arrived with powder and provisions, and Clanricarde then took high ground. In vain did the warden Walter Lynch, whom Rinuccini afterwards made a bishop, fulminate the greater excommunication against all who agreed to Clanricarde’s articles. The mayor signed them nevertheless, agreeing that all soldiers harboured in the town should be sent away, that access to the town should be free and open, that the Anglican clergy should enjoy their legal rights, and that no arms or powder should be sold without Clanricarde’s orders. The gates were accordingly thrown open on May 13, the young men of the town laid down their arms, and Clanricarde received the keys publicly from the mayor’s hands. Ormonde approved of these proceedings, but the Lords Justices thought the rebellious town had been too leniently treated.[7]

Contrary to Ormonde’s own judgment, though he signed with the rest, the Lords Justices issued an order against holding any intercourse with the Irish living near garrisons and against giving protection to any of them. The soldiers were to prosecute the rebels with fire and sword, and whenever Ormonde established a garrison the order in council was to be sent to the commanders with directions for en[Pg 9]suring its observance. This order bound both Ranelagh and Clanricarde, but neither of them approved of it, and indeed it involved a censure upon the latter’s pacification at Galway. Athlone had since Christmas been beset on the Leinster side by a mixed multitude under the general direction of Sir James Dillon, who had made a truce with the Lord President so far as to allow free access to the market. The castle, which stands on the Connaught side of the Shannon, was thus provisioned and made safe against assailants who had no battering train. After a time the garrison began to make incursions into Westmeath, and this was regarded by Dillon as a breach of faith. He had been distrusted by the Irish for his moderation, but without gaining him the confidence of the Government, and he thought it would be better to have at least one side heartily with him. He accordingly seized the town on the Leinster side, and threw up a work which prevented the garrison from crossing the bridge. When he heard that Ormonde was coming to relieve the castle he withdrew into the county of Longford. Ormonde left Dublin on June 14, Mullingar and Ballymore being burnt at his approach, and on the 20th he was at the village of Kilkenny, about seven English miles from Athlone. There Ranelagh met him and took charge of the 2000 foot and two troops of horse provided to reinforce him under Sir Michael Earnley. Ormonde then returned to Dublin at once, though Clanricarde was most anxious to meet him. Ranelagh put the new troops into various castles, three hundred of them, under Captain Bertie, being assigned to a convent of Poor Clares on Lough Ree. The nuns had been hurriedly conveyed away by Dillon to an island in the lake, but the vestments remained and the cellar was full. The soldiers drank the wine, and were masquerading in the vestments when they were attacked by a party sent by Dillon. Bertie fought bravely, but he and most of his men were killed. The Lord President then concentrated his forces at Athlone and the open country was left at the mercy of the Irish.[8]

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Ranelagh showed no energy, but he was in bad health and in want of money and supplies. He said Earnley’s men were rogues and gaol-birds, and that he longed for a commission to raise men of his own country. In the meantime he neglected to requisition the provisions available in the neighbourhood, and the soldiers died of want and neglect. Coote provided ten days’ bread, and pressed him to do something while a few men were left alive, whereupon he ordered an attack on Ballagh, which was not taken without loss, and which Earnley says was quite useless. Afterwards he joined his forces to those of Coote at Roscommon, and Sir James Dillon attacked Athlone in his absence with 1500 men, but was beaten off by the remnant left behind. A considerable Irish force under O’Connor Roe and others assembled after some skirmishing at Ballintober, where they were routed with a loss of six hundred men. Coote and Earnley were not allowed to follow up the victory, and Ranelagh refused to feed the latter’s men any longer. They were therefore dispersed among the garrisons which Coote commanded. Ranelagh made no further attempt to keep the field, and in October he made a truce for three months with the Irish. Clanricarde approved of this, and would have been glad to have its operation extended, for vengeance ‘need not be so sharp here, as where blood doth call for deserved punishment.’ But the Lords Justices were all for war to the knife, though they had not the means to wage it successfully, while Lord Forbes and Captain Willoughby did their best to prevent peace. The English Parliament were too busy at home to do much, while arms and ammunition from the Continent poured in through Wexford and the Ulster ports, with ‘most of the colonels, officers, and engineers that have served beyond seas for many years past ... which furnish all parts of the kingdom but those few that adhere to me for his Majesty’s service.’[9]

Strafford’s proposed settlement of Clare was never carried[Pg 11] out, but the Earls of Thomond were Protestants, and encouraged English tenants, so that a considerable colony had in fact been established. Inchiquin, who had agreed to the abortive plantation, threw his influence in the same direction; but the great mass of O’Briens, Macnamaras, and others favoured the insurgents. The outbreak in the north and the attempt on Dublin were known at the fair of Clare on November 1, but it was not till the end of the month that certain news came of the insurrection having spread to the part of Tipperary near the Shannon. Barnabas Earl of Thomond, who had an English wife, tried to keep the peace, and adopted a trimming policy, but soon lost all control over the country, though he held Bunratty and some other places. Robberies of the Protestants’ cattle soon began, and by Christmas the owners were generally on their guard in castles, of which thirty-one were in friendly hands. Three weeks later the troops raised by Thomond were siding openly with the rebels. Ballyallia Castle, on a lake near Ennis, belonged to Sir Valentine Blake, of Galway, who was a noted member of the Catholic confederacy, but was leased to a merchant named Maurice Cuffe, and became a place of refuge for at least a hundred Protestants. Others from the neighbourhood escaped to England in a Dutch vessel. About a thousand of the Irish encamped near the castle and built cabins, but without coming to close quarters. They captured Abraham Baker, an English carpenter apparently, and with his aid constructed a ‘sow,’ such as was frequently used during the war. It was a house 35 feet by 9 feet, built of beams upon four wheels, strengthened with iron and covered by a sharp ridge roof, and was moved by levers worked from inside. The whole was kept together by huge spike-nails, which cost 5l., ‘being intended for a house of correction which should have been built at Ennis.’ Captain Henry O’Grady summoned the castle, pretending to have his Majesty’s commission to banish all Protestants out of Ireland. Whereupon ‘a bullet was sent to examine his commission, which went through his thigh, but he made a shift to rumbel [sic] to the bushes and there fell down, but only lay by it sixteen weeks,[Pg 12] in which time unhappily it was cured.’ A girl who fell into the hands of the besiegers was tortured until she confessed that the shot was fired by the Rev. Andrew Chaplin. The Irish had no artillery, but devised a cannon made of half-tanned leather with a three-pound charge. The breech was blown out at the first fire, and the ball remained inside. The sow was soon taken and those within killed. A kind of loose blockade lasted from the beginning of February until near midsummer. The besieged often suffered much from want of water, but sometimes they ventured to skirmish in the open, joining with the garrison of Clare Castle and capturing cattle. Baker, who was taken in the sow, joined his captors, whereupon ‘the Irish immediately hewed in pieces his son, Thomas Baker, a proper young man, who was with them in their camp.’ After the fall of Limerick Castle one piece of artillery was brought against Ballyallia, but the gunner was at once shot, and little was done. After this the siege was much closer, famine and sickness reducing the garrison by one half. They got horseflesh at times, but were driven to eat salted hides, dried sheepskins and cats, all fried in tallow. At last they were forced to capitulate, and the terms were ill-kept, but in the end the survivors escaped to Bunratty, nearly all ill and stripped of everything.[10]

Cromwell is reported to have said that if there had been an Earl of Cork in every county the Irish could never have raised a rebellion. All his resources were expended in resisting it, and St. Leger, though he co-operated with him, could not but feel bitterly the inferiority of his own position. The Lords Justices never communicated with him, and though they allowed him to levy forces, sent no money to pay them; and indeed they had none to send. Earnest applications for cannon, ‘six drakes and two curtoes,’ were made in vain, and to take the field without guns was impossible. ‘If they have not wholly deserted me,’ he wrote[Pg 13] to Ormonde, ‘and bestowed the government on my Lord of Cork, persuade them to disburden themselves of so much artillery as they cannot themselves employ.’ He died a few weeks later, leaving the presidential authority in Inchiquin’s hands. In the meantime Cork himself had held Youghal, securing a landing-place for all succours from England. His son Broghill defended Lismore, and Kinalmeaky was governor of Bandon, which his father had walled and supplied with artillery. Clonakilty was an open place, and the Protestant settlers there and in the country round about escaped to Bandon, where the townsmen made them pay well for their quarters. ‘They were compelled,’ said Cork, ‘to give more rent for their chamber or corner than my tenants paid me for the whole house.’ After Kinalmeaky’s death at Liscarrol Sir Charles Vavasour became governor, and the town was never taken; the Bandonians making frequent sallies, like the Enniskilleners in a later age. Lord Cork, who had enjoyed a rental of 50l. a day, lost it all for the time, and was often in difficulties, but he saved the English interest in Munster from total destruction.[11]

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CHAPTER XXII

THE WAR TO THE BATTLE OF ROSS, 1642-1643

When Charles received the news of the Irish insurrection, he at once called upon the Scottish Parliament to aid him in suppressing it. They replied that Ireland was dependent on England, that interference on their part would be misunderstood, and that they could only act as auxiliaries to the English people by agreement with them. Early in November the Parliament at Westminster resolved to send 12,000 men from England, and to ask the Scots to send 10,000 more. But Episcopalian jealousy was aroused, and the demand on Scotland was reduced to 1,000. Nothing was done for the moment, but on January 22, by which time some of the English troops had reached Ireland, both Houses agreed to ask for 2,500, and to this the Scots Commissioners in London assented. The King hesitated about giving up Carrickfergus to the Scotch regiments, but the Commissioners hoped that his Majesty, ‘being their native king, would not show less trust in them than their neighbour nation,’ and this appeal was successful. Money and military stores were stipulated for, and it was agreed that if any other troops in Ulster should join the Scots, their general was to command them as well as his own men, and he had also power to enlarge his quarters to make such expeditions as he might think fit. The Scottish estates had before offered 10,000 men, but nothing like that number ever went. A little later the command was given to Leven, who stayed but a short time and did nothing. The expeditionary force remained in the hands of Major-General Robert Monro, who had been employed to keep order at Aberdeen, and did so with no light hand. He set up, says Spalding, ‘ane timber mare, where[Pg 15]upon runagate knaves and runaway soldiers should ride. Uncouth to see sic discipline in Aberdeen, and more painful to the trespasser to suffer.’ Monro will live for ever in the form of Dugald Dalgetty, for whose portrait he was the chief model. Sir James Turner, who contributed some touches to the picture, says his great fault was a tendency to despise his enemy. Monro’s training was that of the Thirty Years’ War, and Turner, who belonged to the same school, thought he carried its lessons too far.[12]

Monro landed at Carrickfergus on April 15 with about 2500 men, Lord Conway and Colonel Chichester retiring with their regiments to Belfast. On the 28th he marched towards Newry, leaving a garrison behind him, and was joined by Conway and the rest, making up his army to near 4000 men. The Irish under Lord Iveagh were posted in a fort at Ennislaughlin near Moira, but were easily dislodged next day, and fled into the Kilwarlin woods. No quarter was given, to which Turner strongly objects. On the third day they marched through Dromore, where only the church was left standing, to Loughbrickland, where there was a garrison in an island. Monro bribed six Highlanders to swim across, and one of these succeeded in bringing away the only boat. The island was then occupied and all the Irish there killed. No attempt was made to defend the town of Newry, but the castle gave some trouble, and Monro was unwilling to assault or burn it, lest the prisoners confined there should suffer. The garrison were allowed to march out without arms on May 3, but over sixty townsmen, including a Cistercian monk and a secular priest, were hanged next day in cold blood. Turner criticises Monro’s conduct, and claims to have saved nearly 150 women whom the soldiers proposed to kill. At least a dozen women were shot or drowned, notwithstanding his interference. The natural result of Monro’s system was to make the Irish desperate, and O’Neill burned Armagh, ‘the cathedral with its steeple and with its bells, organ, and glass windows, and[Pg 16] the whole city, with the fine library, with all the learned books of the English on divinity, logic, and philosophy.’ Many lives were also taken by the Irish in revenge for Monro’s severities. After leaving a garrison at Newry the army marched through the Mourne mountains, and from one end of Down to the other. Turner mentions a frightful storm attributed by the superstitious to Irish witches, which if true he considered a good proof that their master was really prince of the air. Some of the soldiers died from sheer cold. On the twelfth day Monro returned to Carrickfergus. A detachment which he had left in the outskirts of Belfast had been attacked during his absence and driven off. A large number of cattle had been taken from the Magennises and Macartans, but the English soldiers everywhere complained that the Scots got most of the plunder.[13]

Sir Frederic Hamilton was at Londonderry on October 24. On hearing of the outbreak he rode hard with a dozen mounted servants, who made a great show by blowing trumpets and carrying two lighted matches each. The little party reached Donegal unmolested, succoured the English settlers there, and at Ballyshannon killed some rogues on the road, and reached Manor Hamilton in safety. Connor O’Rourke, sheriff of Leitrim, visited Hamilton on the 31st, but his professions of loyalty did not last long. The arrival of a few stray Scots soldiers, some from Carlisle direct, increased the garrison to fifty men. By December 4 twenty-four prisoners were taken, and to avenge the deaths of Englishmen at Sligo, eight of them were hanged upon a conspicuous gallows. Fifty-six persons, including one woman, died thus by martial law between December 3, 1641, and February 18, 1642-3. Hamilton complained bitterly that he was not supported by Sir William Cole, and their quarrels became the subject of an inquiry by the English Parliament. Cole held Enniskillen throughout, and without much difficulty,[Pg 17] while Captain Ffolliott maintained the important post at Ballyshannon. Meanwhile the brothers Sir William and Sir Robert Stewart, who were both professional soldiers, were active from Rathmelton in Donegal to Newtown Stewart in Tyrone. Their levies grew into an army which came to be known as the Laggan forces from a name locally given to the district. Londonderry and Coleraine also held out, and were never taken during the war.[14]

Ormonde returned to Dublin in the middle of March, and on April 2 set out again with 3000 foot, 500 horse, and five guns to waste the county of Kildare. Captain Yarner, with two troops, burned ten or twelve villages under the Wicklow mountains, and killed about the same number of armed men. A trumpeter was killed by a shot from Tipper Castle, near Naas, whereupon Coote blew up the house and put all to the sword. Ormonde garrisoned Naas, established a Protestant corporation there, and advanced to Maryborough, whence he sent most of his cavalry by forced marches to relieve Burris in Ossory and Birr, and to return by Portnahinch. The old men, women, and children of about sixty families were brought away safely and settled at Naas. Monck, who now appears for the first time in Ireland, was sent to secure their return passage over the Barrow. Other detachments were sent to relieve Ballinakill, Clogrennan and Carlow, and on the twelfth day Ormonde was back at Athy without any loss except of a few over-ridden horses. Great numbers of cattle were taken, and Coote gave 300 milch cows to the fugitives at Naas on condition of selling milk to the troops at a halfpenny a quart and making butter and cheese, and bread,[Pg 18] he supplying corn at ten shillings the Winchester barrel. Ormonde found that the enemy had concentrated in the meantime at the ford of Mageney on the Barrow with a view to intercept him on his return. Mountgarret and Roger O’More were both present, as well as Hugh MacPhelim O’Byrne, who was retreating from Drogheda to the Wicklow mountains, and they had more than 6000 men, but badly armed and with very little powder. Ormonde left Athy early in the morning of April 15, his force being considerably reduced by the garrisons left behind. The Irish were soon visible to the eastward trying to reach the pass at Ballyshannon before him. As they had no baggage they would probably have got there first, but Ormonde was superior in horse, and he sent on all that he had under Sir Thomas Lucas. The Irish finding themselves forestalled, had to fight in a less advantageous position at Kilrush. They had no real head, and the Munster and Leinster men disputed about the division of the spoil before the battle was won. The English cavalry had it all their own way, Coote charging like a man of thirty. He lost his cap, ‘but bare-headed scoured about the field, crying “Kill! kill!” and with his hand gave the example, while my Lord of Ormonde secured the cannon and victory with some divisions of foot, and beat their van into a speedy retreat.’ There was very little fighting, the Irish soon taking refuge in a bog near at hand. The number of killed on their side is uncertain, but it included some persons of rank, and the army simply ceased to exist. O’More and his brother fled to their home at Ballina near the Boyne, Mountgarret and others to Tullow, and the O’Byrnes to their Wicklow mountains. Ormonde lost some twenty men. That night he slept at Castlehaven’s house at Maddenstown, where Antrim and the Duchess of Buckingham were staying, and Coote ‘to pleasure the lady,’ fired a salute of artillery and musketry. According to an Irish writer Sir Charles boasted of the day’s victory. The men were silent, but the Duchess upbraided him as being less loyal than the Irish, and as ‘a poor mechanical fellow, raised by blind fortune, as informer and promoter against all that is just and godly, being chief instrument of the[Pg 19] shedding of many innocent blood [sic], and of the commencement of the new distempers.’ Coote, who was of a good old family, had served three sovereigns faithfully both in peace and war, and fell three weeks later fighting bravely against enormous odds.[15]

On June 22 that part of the House of Commons in Dublin which accepted the oath of supremacy expelled forty-one ‘rotten and unprofitable members’ who were either in open rebellion or indicted of high treason. Of these Richard Bellings, who sat for Callan, was the most important. Among the others were Rory Maguire the northern leader, Sir Valentine Blake of Galway, who was Clanricarde’s friend, and Sir James Dillon. In the meantime what claimed to be a new legislature was being gradually formed. On May 10, 11, 13, and 14 a congregation of the Roman Catholic hierarchy sat at Kilkenny. There were present three archbishops, six bishops and the procurators of four more, with several abbots and other dignitaries; and the plan of the proposed confederation was sketched out. The prelates declared that the war had been justly undertaken for religion and for the King, against sectaries and especially against Puritans. Any province, county, or city making separate terms with the enemy was to be held excommunicate. A number of lords and gentlemen joined the prelates, and out of their joint deliberations grew the Supreme Council in its first shape—two members out of each province with Mountgarret as president. An oath of association was framed binding the confederates to obey the council and to do nothing without their consent. The main object was the establishment of the Roman Catholic religion ‘in as full and ample a manner as the Roman Catholic secular clergy had or enjoyed the same within this realm at any time during the reign of Henry VII.’ Significantly, the regular clergy are not mentioned at all. The secular clergy were to enjoy all temporalities ‘in as[Pg 20] large and ample a manner as the late Protestant clergy respectively enjoyed the same on October 1, 1641.’ All laws to the contrary made since 20 Henry VIII. were void. Before a more regular assembly could meet Preston had landed in the south and O’Neill in the north, and their arrival gave events a new turn.[16]

Owen Roe O’Neill was son of Art MacBaron, the great Tyrone’s brother, whence he was often called Owen MacArt. In the Spanish service he was known as Don Eugenio O’Neill. He was a captain in Flanders in Henry O’Neill’s Irish regiment as early as 1607, and colonel of the regiment about 1633. With the rank of maître de camp he commanded the garrison of Arras during the siege in 1640, and marched out with the honours of war on August 9. For some time before the outbreak he had been in frequent communication with the Irish leaders, but perhaps without any well-formed intention of going over himself. When he heard that the plot to seize Dublin had been discovered ‘he was in a great rage against O’Connolly, and said he wondered how or where that villain should live, for if he were in Ireland, sure they would pull him in pieces there; and if he lived in England there were footmen and other Irishmen enough to kill him.’ It was less than eight years since another Irish colonel, Walter Butler, had murdered Wallenstein. O’Neill then asked his general Francis de Mello to let him go to Ireland, and the Spaniard answered that he should go and be well supplied for the enterprise if he could find a safe landing-place in his own country. It was, however, given out that he was in disgrace with the Spanish authorities, and years afterwards, when Hyde was at Madrid, Don Luis de Haro kept up the mystification and spoke of him as a deserter from his sovereign’s service. Where Spain was concerned there were always long delays, and the summer of 1642 was well advanced before O’Neill announced to Luke Wadding that he was about to start. Everything, he said, was going on well[Pg 21] in Ireland, but there was sad want of powder. If the Pope knew, he said, how fatal that powder would be to heresy and heretics he would make haste to procure a plentiful supply. O’Neill sailed from Dunkirk round Scotland, and landed in Lough Swilly about the last day of July. He captured two prizes at sea and detached a small vessel to Wexford with arms, which arrived safely. O’Neill brought to Ulster ‘ammunition, arms and a few low-country officers and soldiers of his own regiment,’ and he sent his ships back to Flanders for more. Sir Phelim sent 1500 men to join his kinsman, who went round by Ballyshannon to Charlemont, where he arrived without having met an enemy.[17]

Thomas Preston, a son of the fourth Viscount Gormanston, was fifty-six years old when the Irish rebellion broke out. He was a captain in the same regiment as Owen Roe O’Neill in 1607, but was never on good terms with him. They were rivals in recruiting during the reign of Strafford, who favoured the man of English descent as far as he could. In 1635 Preston distinguished himself in the defence of Louvain against the combined forces of France and Holland, and in 1641 in the defence of Genappe against Frederick Henry of Orange. In 1642 his nephew, Lord Gormanston, urged him to return to Ireland. In March of that year Mountgarret sent Geoffrey Barron, Wadding’s nephew, to Paris, and in July he met Preston there. Richelieu, who had not forgotten Rochelle, did not declare himself openly, but he discharged all the Irish soldiers in the French service, allowed war material to be purchased in France, and let it be understood that help would be forthcoming to the extent of a million of crowns. Preston sailed from Dunkirk, accompanied by several officers, and arrived in Wexford harbour at the beginning of August. Here he was joined by at least a dozen vessels laden with war material from St. Malo, Nantes, and Rochelle. He reconnoitred Duncannon fort, which he[Pg 22] thought could be taken in fifteen days, and then went to Kilkenny, where the confederates were still assembled. Public opinion quickly designated him as the fittest person to have military command in Leinster, and Mountgarret, who was no soldier, was very willing to yield the place to him.[18]

The army which Inchiquin had driven from before Cork came together again at Limerick, and St. Leger had no force to molest it there. After standing neutral for a time the city had joined the confederates, but the castle was held by Captain George Courtenay with sixty men and very little powder. Supplies were ordered by Parliament, but did not reach the garrison. The Irish stretched a boom across the river, which prevented any relief by water, and ran mines under the works, while the garrison were harassed by a continual fire from the walls of the cathedral. Courtenay capitulated on June 21, and Barry and Muskerry went south again with three pieces of cannon taken in the castle. Among these was a thirty-two pounder weighing about three tons, which was laid in the scooped-out trunk of a tree and dragged up hills and through bogs by twenty-five yoke of oxen. The whole county of Limerick was soon in Irish hands. St. Leger died on July 2, and the sole command then devolved on Inchiquin. His position as vice-president was confirmed by the Lords Justices, who associated Lord Barrymore with him for the civil government, but the latter died at Michaelmas. Patrick Purcell, acting as major-general under Barry, took up a strong position at Newtown near Charleville, but was beaten out of it by Inchiquin with very inferior numbers. This check caused a long delay, but at last Barry advanced with six thousand foot and five hundred horse and sat down on August 20 before the strong castle of Liscarrol. Here he was joined by Lord Dungarvan, who had just taken Ardmore Castle and hanged 117 men, leaving the women and children at liberty. A garrison of thirty men could do little against the fire of heavy guns, and Liscarrol surrendered on September 2. On the 3rd, Cromwell’s lucky day, Inchiquin[Pg 23] advanced, as he supposed, to their relief. His force of 3000 foot and 400 horse was about half of Barry’s, but much better armed and disciplined. The Irish, having a good position under the walls of the castle, were at first successful against the charge of a small division of horse consisting of Cork and Bandon men, without even helmets; but Lord Cork’s son Kinalmeaky, ‘who was clothed with armour of proof’ was shot dead. Though one else fell, his followers were driven back in confusion and the battle seemed lost, but the foot stood firm, and Inchiquin, coming up with some more regular cavalry, succeeded in rallying the fugitives. He killed Oliver Stephenson, the Irish cavalry leader, with his own hand, and had himself more than one narrow escape, being wounded in the head and hand. The Irish were routed and ‘recovered Sir William Pore’s bog near Kilbolaine,’ where they were out of reach. Inchiquin only lost some twelve men killed, and Barry is said to have lost seven hundred, but the victory was not of much use, for there were neither money nor provisions to follow it up. Liscarroll Castle was reoccupied, and three pieces of cannon brought from Limerick were taken. Inchiquin then fell back to Mallow, and dispersed his men in garrisons, while the Irish went to their several homes.[19]

There was perpetual fighting in Ulster during the summer of 1642. Monro marched on June 17, with about 2000 men, from Carrickfergus to Lisburn, where he was joined by Lord Montgomery and others with some 1100 foot and four troops of horse. Lord Conway brought his regiment and five troops of horse. Next morning the Scots general, with his[Pg 24] own foot and nearly all the horse, marched through the plain to Dromore, while Montgomery cleared the woods of Killultagh, most of the Irish flying across the Bann with their cattle and ‘burning the country all along.’ The fighting was not severe, and the two divisions coalesced somewhere near Banbridge. Monro, being short of provisions, decided not to follow the enemy into Tyrone, and went off with some troops of cavalry towards the Mourne mountains, leaving the other leaders to do the best they could. Three hundred cows were captured, and the bulk of the army came to Kinard. A priest was also taken, ‘Chanter of Armagh and a prime councillor to Sir Phelim O’Neill, who was since hanged, but would not confess or discover anything.’ The chief had gone to Charlemont, and his men ran away who ‘for haste did not kill any prisoners,’ so his house was burned, which was ‘built of free stone and strong enough to have kept out all the force we could make.’ Two hundred miserable captives were released, in rags and with faces like ghosts. The plunder was considerable, including Sir Phelim’s plate, which was on carts ready to carry off. News was heard of Lady Caulfield, who was ‘kept at a stone house near Braintree woods,’ and here Captain Rawdon found her with her children, just in time to prevent the rebels from taking her off into the forest. Rawdon was not so successful in the case of Lady Blaney, who had been carried away into the wilds of Monaghan the night before he came on the scene. As he rode through Kinard the second time there was ‘nothing left quick but angry dogs and embers.’ Charlemont had been strengthened with some skill, and there was no possibility of taking it without guns, though Sir Phelim was nearly captured trying to go there, and had to fly into Tyrone. Dungannon was afterwards taken and garrisoned, with the usual hangings, Sir William Brownlow and other prisoners there having overcome the rebel guard ‘with the help of some Irish that had formerly had relation to them.’ Two brass guns were taken, but they were not heavy enough to make the difference at Charlemont, and on the eighth and ninth days the army returned from Armagh through Loughbrick[Pg 25]land to Lisburn. A great many cattle had been taken, and all not eaten or stolen were divided among the men, one to every four foot soldiers and to every two troopers.[20]

On June 25 Clotworthy left Antrim with 600 men in twelve boats built for the service on Lough Neagh. On the flat Tyrone shore little resistance was made, and Mountjoy was taken with no loss. Here he entrenched himself strongly, and ‘notwithstanding the next was the Lord’s day’ spent it in building huts for his men. Before leaving it to be maintained by a garrison of 250 men he scoured the woods as well as he could, and lost very few men, though the pressure of hunger was severe, for he could not catch cows without cavalry, and there were 500 rescued British prisoners of both sexes and every age to feed along with the soldiers. The want of horse was partly supplied by making 200 men strip to their shirts for lightness, and they did not object, thinking it mean to wear armour against men that had none. Generally speaking the Irish would not stand against them, but they seemed to have ammunition enough, which was said to come from Limerick. One hundred cows were taken near Moneymore, after which the soldiers fared better, but there was much sickness from want of proper food, and from having to sleep on the ground.[21]

The provisional supreme council, which had been formed at Kilkenny in the early summer, did what they could to give their organisation something of a legal shape. ‘Letters,’ says Bellings, ‘in nature of writs were sent from this council to all the Lords spiritual and temporal, and all the counties, cities, and corporate towns that had right to send knights and burgesses to Parliament.’ The general assembly so constituted met on October 24, a year and a day after the first[Pg 26] outbreak in Ulster, at the house of Robert Shee, heir to Sir Richard Shee. The Lords spiritual and temporal and Commons sat in one room, Mr. Pat Darcy bareheaded upon a stool representing all or some that sat in Parliament upon the woolsack. Mr. Nicholas Plunket represented the Speaker of the Commons, and both Lords and Commons addressed their speech to him. The Lords had an upper room for a recess for private consultation, and upon resolutions taken the same were delivered to the Commons by Mr. Darcy. The name of Parliament was eschewed, and Plunket was called prolocutor or president, and not speaker. Burgesses were to be paid five shillings a day, and knights of the shire ten shillings during the session, and for ten days before and after. The first act of the assembly was to establish the Roman Catholic Church as it had been in the time of Henry VII., and the statute law was to be observed so far as it was ‘not against the Catholic Roman religion.’ Allegiance to King Charles came second. For the protection of the King’s subjects against murders, rapes and robberies ‘contrived and daily executed by the malignant party, and for the exaltation of the Holy Roman Catholic Church and the advancement of his Majesty’s service,’ a Supreme Council was appointed, with both executive and judicial authority; control over all officers, even generals, in the field; and power to hear and determine all matters capital, criminal or civil, ‘except the right or title of land.’ Owen Roe O’Neill was appointed general for Ulster, Preston for Leinster, and Colonel Gerald Barry for Munster. For Connaught, Colonel John Bourke was named lieutenant-general only, in the hope that Clanricarde would be induced to join. There were some bickerings between Owen Roe and Sir Phelim, who had just married Preston’s daughter, and who wished to be in command of his own province, and between Rory O’More and other Leinster gentlemen, but they were smoothed over for the time. All the generals had seen service on the Continent.[22]

[Pg 27]

The Supreme Council consisted of twenty-four persons, four taken from each province. Of these only four, an O’Neill and a Magennis from Ulster, an O’Brien from Munster and Lord Mayo, were not sworn in at the time. Lord Mountgarret was appointed president, Bellings secretary, and Richard Shee clerk. Of the whole twenty-four four were peers and five bishops. Provincial and county councils were also constituted, but they had no real existence, or a very shadowy one. That for Leinster was appointed, but was overshadowed by the Supreme Council, and events soon showed that military force and not new-fangled civil departments was the determining quantity during the revolutionary period.

The assembly decreed that lands taken from their owners since October 1, 1641, should be restored on pain of the new possessor being treated as an enemy; provided that if the old owner ‘be declared a neuter or enemy by the supreme or provincial,’ then the land should be surrendered not to him, but to the council, ‘to be disposed of towards the maintenance of the general cause.’ The war was a religious one, and thus the lands of all who were not prepared to espouse the Roman Catholic cause were to be forfeited, or at the least sequestered. English, Welsh and Scotch Roman Catholics were to be treated as well as natives of Ireland. All Church temporalities were at one stroke transferred from Protestants to Roman Catholics. It must have been from the first evident to all cool observers that no accommodation on these terms could ever be made with any settled English Government. After sitting for about a month the assembly adjourned till May 20 next. They had ordered 4000l. worth coin to be struck, and 5820 men to be raised as the Leinster contingent. The Kilkenny government never had any real authority, except in the south-east of Ireland.[23]

The Supreme Council assumed sovereign power, the King figuring largely in negotiations with Ormonde, but seldom appearing in documents intended for home consumption. Flags were devised with various religious emblems and mottoes; but in each case there was an Irish cross on a green[Pg 28] field, ‘Vivat Rex Carolus’ below, and C R with a crown imperial above. Francis Oliver, a Fleming, was appointed vice-admiral, and letters of marque to prey upon ‘enemies of the general Catholic cause’ were freely granted. Half-crowns and shillings and copper money were struck with Charles I. on one side and St. Patrick on the other, but this was not done without much opposition, for the coinage was unnecessary, and was an evident encroachment upon the Crown. Agents were accredited to the Emperor, the King of France, the Pope, the Duke of Bavaria, the Viceroy in Belgium, and the Governor of Biscay. The Franciscan Luke Wadding, a native of Waterford, was agent at Rome, and as this was emphatically the Pope’s war, the instructions to him are of special interest. The first thing asked for was a supply of indulgences for the confederates and of excommunications for all opponents and neutrals. The Pope was requested to send letters in their favour to the Queen of England, to the Catholic princes of Germany, Spain, France, Portugal, Poland, and Bavaria, to Genoa, and to the Catholics of Holland. Wadding was directed to impress upon his Holiness that the Catholic cause in Protestant countries would be much advanced by the success of the confederates. Free trade with France, Spain, and Holland was solicited through the Pope’s mediation. In general he was to be asked to give the council power over ecclesiastical patronage, and not to admit appeals during the war. In particular Thomas Dease, Bishop of Meath, had been suspended by the provincial synod of Armagh for refusing to approve of the war, and his appeal was to be rejected without trial. The Supreme Council thus engrossed to themselves all the chief prerogatives of the Crown which they professed to defend.[24]

[Pg 29]

Preston’s first service in the field did not augur well for his success as a general. Ormonde was anxious to relieve the garrison of Ballinakill on the borders of Queen’s County and Kilkenny, and in December he sent Monck with a convoy and enough men to guard it. This service was duly performed, but Preston and Castlehaven, with a thousand foot and three troops of horse, attempted to cut him off on his return to Dublin. Monck passed by Timahoe, where there was a confederate garrison, who lined the hedges by the roadside; but hearing that he was pursued, he avoided the snare by drawing aside to some level ground backed by a hill, where he placed his foot to serve as support in case the horse were worsted. The contrary happened, and after the first charge the whole of Preston’s force was driven under the shelter of Timahoe. The numbers engaged on each side were about equal, but a crowd of spectators on a distant hill were mistaken for reinforcements, and Monck prudently continued his journey to Dublin. Castlehaven thought most of the Irish foot would have been destroyed had the enemy pursued their advantage.[25]

‘The check at Timahoe,’ says Castlehaven, ‘made us pretty quiet till towards the spring following,’ when the Lords Justices resolved upon an expedition into Wexford. The sympathies of Parsons, who was the ruling spirit, were certainly with the Parliament, but the event was uncertain, and even after Edgehill it was hard to say whether the King would succeed or not. Since the end of October there had been a committee from the Parliament in Dublin consisting of Robert Reynolds and Robert Goodwin, members of the House of Commons, and of Captain William Tucker, agent for the English adventurers in Irish land. Part of their business was to induce soldiers to take debentures in lieu of pay. By the advice of the Chancellor Bolton these three were admitted to sit at the Council board. Tucker kept a journal of the proceedings, and it is clear that he was not much impressed by the wisdom of the Irish Government. The sittings were generally occupied in mere talk, and very little[Pg 30] was done in the field. Thus, when Sir Francis Willoughby took Maynooth Castle Tucker reports that the rebels ran away after one day’s siege, that four or five men were killed on each side, and ‘no service done at all, but only expectation and the gain of one ass.’ In the middle of January Lord Lisle, the Lord Lieutenant’s son, proposed to relieve the empty treasury by leading out fifteen hundred men to live upon the enemy’s country. Lisle was general of the horse, and Sir Richard Grenville major of Leicester’s own regiment, and it was intended that these two officers should command in the field. Grenville, according to Clarendon, was noted for his cruelty, but he had served with credit at Kilrush, and he was major of Leicester’s regiment of horse. In January came a commission from the King giving power to Ormonde, Clanricarde, and others to treat with the Irish, and the Lords Justices supposed that the field would thus be left clear for Lisle.[26]

When the King’s letter was read at the Council board Ormonde, according to his chaplain’s account, said he had no wish to be a commissioner to hear Irish grievances, ‘for I know that nothing grieves them more than that they could not cut all our throats,’ but that as general he would command in the field. His right could not be denied, and he had lately endeared himself to both officers and soldiers by his exertions to obtain their pay and other advantages for them. But the Lords Justices and the parliamentary commissioners, who had advanced money for Lord Lisle, were not at all pleased. Tucker, indeed, held that the money could not be decently denied to Ormonde, but his career and that of his colleagues in Ireland was cut short before the campaign actually began. In the middle of February came a letter from the King directing that the committee should no longer be admitted to the Council-chamber, and fearing arrest they returned to England before the end of the month. On[Pg 31] March 1 Ormonde set out with 2500 foot and 800 horse, and with two siege-guns and four field-pieces.[27]

At Timolin, which was reached on the third day, the Irish defended the castle and an old church. One culverin reduced the former, and all the men were killed before night. The besiegers had about thirty killed and wounded in a premature attempt to storm, Lieutenant Oliver, the only engineer in the army, being among the slain. The church tower held out till next day, but the whole garrison, except one man, were killed by shot or falling stones. The garrisons of Carlow and Athy were strong enough to prevent Preston from being reinforced by the Wicklow insurgents, but the latter had some prisoners whom they proposed to exchange with the survivors of Timolin. ‘There be not many of them alive now,’ said Monck, ‘and what there is take you with you.’ According to Bellings, who is generally fair, part of the garrison were slaughtered by the soldiers of Lisle’s regiment after quarter had been given by Ormonde. On the seventh day from Dublin the army passed, without further fighting, through Clohamon in Wexford, where a fair was being held, and some cattle were swept off by the soldiers. On the tenth day New Ross was reached, ‘where,’ says Ormonde’s chaplain, ‘we saw flags set up on the walls and the inhabitants making ready for a siege.’ Women and children were sent over the Barrow into Kilkenny, and men were introduced in their places, so that the number of the garrison soon equalled that of the besieging army. One culverin was turned upon the south gate near the river, and a breach was soon made, but the defenders dug a great trench inside, and attempts to storm were frustrated. Another culverin was in position at the north end of the town, but the shot failed to reach those who were maintaining the breach, and Ormonde’s soldiers suffered sorely from rain as well as from musket balls, and no doubt envied the enemy, for they could see the women plying them constantly with drink. Meanwhile there were two English vessels of 120 and 60 tons, with eight guns[Pg 32] between them, lying in the tideway below the town. They could neither escape nor get near enough to do much service, and when artillery was brought to bear they were scuttled and abandoned. The victuals and ammunition sank or were captured by the enemy, but the sailors joined Ormonde and did excellent work afterwards as gunners. The supply of provisions was very limited, and at the approach of Preston’s army the siege was practically raised. Six hundred men under Sir James Dillon came from Westmeath as far as Ballyragget in Kilkenny, but few or none of them ever joined Preston, having been attacked by the garrison of Ballinakill on St. Patrick’s night. ‘They being very merry for honour of their saint, and for that they expected a great victory the next day, and being full of drink,’ were cut to pieces or dispersed, and all their arms taken. On the morning of March 18 Ormonde’s army were encamped on a heathy hill half a mile to the eastward of Old Ross, but before ten o’clock they had taken up a position some three miles to the north-west and a little short of a village called Ballinafeeg. Mr. Brian Kavanagh voluntarily gave his services as a guide. The deep glen of Poulmonty lay a little further on. Preston with 5000 foot and 600 horse had passed the Barrow at Graiguenemanagh, and now advanced across the glen to attack Ormonde. Cullen and others tried to dissuade him from fighting, pointing out that the English army was short of provisions and must needs retire through a very difficult country to Carlow, and that there would be many opportunities of attacking it at great advantage. Ormonde had six guns with him, which he placed on a rising ground behind his main body. The opposing armies did not come to close quarters until after two o’clock in the afternoon. Preston’s men came up by a narrow lane, and on their serried masses every shot told. The guns were admirably served by eleven of the sailors whose ships had been destroyed, and who fired six rounds from each piece, right over the heads of their friends. As the Irish horse came out into the open Ormonde ordered his own cavalry under Lisle and Grenville to advance, fire one round, and then fall back. This movement was[Pg 33] punctually executed, but some of the Irish horse mingled with them as they retired, a panic followed, and they galloped off to the rear. Lisle called out ‘Ten pounds, twenty pounds for a guide to Duncannon,’ and an old apothecary, named Silyard, who was attached to the army, and who was in his proper place among the baggage-waggons, reproached him for running away, and a veteran officer named Morris, who lay wounded in a litter, offered to rally the men if Lisle would lend him a horse. Then Sir Richard Grenville clapped my Lord Lisle on the shoulder: ‘Come, my lord,’ said he, ‘we will yet recover it.’ ‘Never while you live,’ said Mr. Silyard, and to his friends that stood by “I mean his credit,” said Mr. Silyard.’ Cullen got up to the guns, on one of which he laid his hand saying, ‘This is mine,’ but he was soon surrounded by infantry and taken prisoner, his life being saved by Ormonde’s personal exertions. The rout of Preston’s army was completed by the return of Lisle and his cavalry. ‘A man might see them,’ says the chaplain, ‘through the smoke of the gunpowder run twinkling like the motes in the sun.’ The pursuit was continued until darkness came on, with great loss to the defeated army, who escaped into Kilkenny by the way which they came. Ormonde, who spent the night on the ground, lost only about a dozen men.[28]

Ormonde encamped on the second night at Graiguenemanagh, and on the third at Burris, where his artillery oxen were stolen by ‘two lusty young clowns’ of the Kavanaghs. Fresh beasts were obtained from Carlow, and Dublin was reached on the 27th, without further fighting. Lord Moore, hearing that the Irish had gathered from all sides, and expecting to catch Ormonde in a trap, took advantage of the defenceless state of Cavan and drove off much cattle without resistance. A great part of Preston’s army dispersed every man[Pg 34] to his own village, but Sir James Dillon, who had not taken part in the battle, joined him with a strong unbroken regiment, and he made some pretence of pursuing Ormonde in order to lessen the popular disgust at his defeat. What he really did was to besiege Ballinakill, where Sir Thomas Ridgeway had planted an English colony, and established ironworks. There being thus no want of hands, Ridgeway’s castle had been strengthened and his fishponds utilised for filling wet ditches. The Protestant farmers on the estate had driven in their cattle, and there was food enough for all. Preston lay for about seven weeks before this place, where he lost 100 men, and he could not have taken it but for the arrival of two twenty-four pounders and a mortar from Spain. A shell fell on the roof and penetrated the floors below, while ‘the women within very fearful, as not accustomed to such pastimes, cried out with every shot, to the exceeding comfort of the assailants, and mighty disgust of the defendants.’ The contest had been carried on with great bitterness, the garrison throwing the heads of their prisoners over the works, while the besiegers stuck the heads of theirs upon poles within sight of the wall. The place became untenable after the arrival of the battering train, and capitulated on May 5, but Preston was glad to give fair terms, and Castlehaven escorted all the English safely to the neighbourhood of Dublin.[29]

There were cool-headed Irish Catholics at home and abroad who saw the essential weakness of the Confederates’ position. Clanricarde was Walsingham’s grandson. Alone among men of his creed he held the King’s commission, and knew the real interests of the Crown, as well as the impossibility of separating Ireland from England. Among the insurgents were many who had been ‘instruments of foul and horrid acts; there being yet some who do boast and glory in those inhumanities. And if God’s judgment and wrath be not first appeased, it is much to be feared there will be a long expectation of a more settled time.’ The Jesuit O’Hartegan, in daily communication with his countrymen and[Pg 35] with the nuncio at Paris, had none of Clanricarde’s scruples, but he had misgivings of his own. The hatred of the heretics would stop at nothing, and the faithful had gone too far to retreat. Men and money were available, but there was no head, no order or discipline; ‘one of our birth-attributes is never to submit ourselves willingly to any of our own nation, to live as companions or equals, and think ourselves as worthy of any command and of superiority as each other of our compatriots.’ Foreigners were always thought much of, even when there were better men at home; and it was necessary to send a stranger to take charge. He should be ‘of long experience, of good learning, and charitably affected for compassionating our infirmities, and it is unquestionable these conditions do concur in an Italian best of all nations.’ Ireland could support 100,000 men, but a head was necessary. To support this army O’Hartegan proposed to seize all Crown revenues and rights; all goods of English, Scotch and Dutch heretics; all goods of Irish heretics such as Ormonde, Kildare, Thomond, Barrymore and Inchiquin; and of Catholic neutrals like Clanricarde and Antrim; all Church lands and all lands confiscated from natives, including the Desmonds. In such a cause, too, the people would readily pay heavy taxes and submit to monopolies. In the absence of a supreme head every commander and nobleman would cut and carve for himself, ‘and every mere Irish pretend his ancestors were illegally dispossessed.’ A nuncio of the highest rank, even the Pope himself, could be made comfortable at Wexford, Waterford, Kilkenny, Clonmel, or Limerick.’[30]

[Pg 36]

CHAPTER XXIII

THE WAR TO THE FIRST CESSATION, 1642-1643

To gain possession of the land in English hands was at least one main object of the Irish rebellion. Much property had been acquired by various confiscations and plantations, but there was no idea of abandoning that policy. The war would be extremely costly, and the Irish were to be made to pay for it by giving up some of the land which was still theirs. It was assumed that at least 2500 acres of good land would be forfeited; and upon that security a large sum was subscribed by Adventurers, as they were always called. It was provided that the money should all go to the reduction of Ireland; but necessity has no law, and much of it was spent in making head against the King in England. It was not till the quarrel at home was settled that Parliament could act effectively on the other side of St. George’s Channel.[31]

In June 1642 the Adventurers determined to send an expedition to Ireland. The arrangements were completed in a fortnight by a committee of fifteen under the presidency of Sir Nicholas Crispe, afterwards the noted Royalist, who had subscribed 1500l. Ten ships were hired, each of which carried or towed a flat-bottomed barge for landing men and ascending rivers. The admiral was Captain Benjamin Peters, with the famous Rainsborough, one of the committee, a vice-admiral, and Captain Thompson, also a member of the committee, as Rear-Admiral. Hugh Peters was chaplain. One thousand soldiers were embarked under Alexander Lord Forbes, and the expedition sailed from Dover on July 1, having lost two of the barges in an easterly gale. In Moun[Pg 37]t’s Bay they spoke a King’s ship with the late garrison of Limerick Castle on board. In mid-channel a vessel was detached with a letter to St. Leger, reciting a commission from the King and both Houses to raise additional forces, and asking the Lord President to say where the expedition could be most usefully employed. St. Leger had died before the letter was written, and Forbes turned a deaf ear to Inchiquin’s entreaties for help. On July 11 the squadron was off the old head of Kinsale, and the town was found to be full of justly suspected Irish and of Protestant refugees, ‘living in miserable holes and huts.’ Lord Kinalmeaky came in from Bandon, of which he was governor, and Peters preached on a Thursday. Next day Forbes marched to Bandon with 600 men, of whom 100 were seamen, and two small brass guns. Seven thousand English, including many clergymen, had gathered round Kinalmeaky, many of them being in great distress. Peters notes that the river was full of salmon. Next day Forbes went to the relief of Captain Freke, who had been beset at Rathbarry ever since the middle of February. About 1800 sheep, 200 cows, and 50 horses had been captured by the troops and driven as far as Clonakilty, through which the line of march lay. Forbes foolishly divided his force, leaving three companies to guard the cattle. As soon as the main body were out of sight the Irish attacked the detachment, and Captain Weldon was killed with a great part of two companies. Captain Groves, whose men were part of the Bandon garrison, and understood the work better, fought his way through the enemy to a rath on the Rosscarbery road, and there maintained himself till he was relieved. The Irish fled towards the sea, and many of them were killed on the shore. After rescuing Groves, Forbes went back to Bandon, and left Freke in worse case than ever, for most of his men took the opportunity of deserting. A few sick soldiers were left in their places, ‘and so factious that I and my servants were often endangered of our lives among them, and some that had fled from the fight at Clonakilty much discouraged us with that relation.’ They held out, enduring almost incredible hardships, for eleven[Pg 38] weeks longer, when relief came under a more capable commander than Forbes.[32]

Forbes was repulsed with loss from Timoleague Castle. Lady O’Shaughnessy, whose husband, Sir Roger, was loyal, offered to surrender it to Kinalmeaky and Sir William Hull, but not to strangers. The soldiers then burned the town and abbey containing a thousand hogsheads of wine. Two spies were taken, but, says Ensign Jones, ‘the rogues slight death, for we could get nothing out of them; so our men mangled them to pieces.’ So Forbes returned to Kinsale, and on July 25 sailed to Castlehaven. The Irish appeared in force on the hills, and the castle of their chief, O’Donovan, was blown up with one barrel of powder. It was sixty feet high with very thick walls, but it fell half on one side and half on the other. O’Driscol’s castle at Baltimore was burned, and the neighbouring islands harried. About 100 camp-followers of the worst kind followed Forbes’s wake. They entered and plundered houses without provocation, and even killed children within sight of the soldiers. Meanwhile Forbes had been summoned to Galway, without Clanricarde’s knowledge, by Willoughby, who having a commission to execute martial law from the Lords Justices, had hanged a sergeant in Lord Clanmorris’s company for extortion. Clanmorris retaliated by hanging some soldiers of the fort who had strayed into the open country. The Lords Justices sent Captain Ashley with his frigate to Galway, and he and Willoughby combined to seize corn, cattle, and timber upon requisition. Only tickets were given in exchange, and Clanricarde’s friends and tenants were injured. Forbes anchored off the town on August 9, Willoughby and Ashley coming on board the same night, and at once sent letters to Ranelagh, Clanricarde and the corporation of Galway. The lieutenant-general of the additional forces by sea and land, so he styled himself, proposed to join hands with the Lord President,[Pg 39] and so to subdue the rebellion. Ranelagh answered that he would come from Athlone to Galway, though at some personal risk. ‘I observe,’ he said, ‘in your lordship’s letter an inclination to make a distinction of persons; and truly, my lord, if that course shall not be held, I see little hope of a speedy reducing this kingdom to obedience, seeing most men are possessed of an opinion that an utter extirpation is intended, and that conceit being fomented by the priests and friars, all are falling into such a course of desperation, that being once engaged and their counsels and force united, will certainly be an occasion to lengthen the war, and draw a vast charge upon the Crown to make a complete conquest.’ The only chance of peace, he thought, was in ‘a just distinction between practick and passive rebels, with severity to the one and moderation to the other.’ Of the citizens of Galway Forbes demanded that they should lay down their arms, admit a garrison, and place themselves under his protection, submitting absolutely to the King ‘and the state of England, under whose blessed government they had enjoyed a sweet and long-continued peace.’ The mayor in reply urged his grievances against Willoughby, and declined all further answer till Clanricarde had been consulted, under whose government and by whose mediation they had lately enjoyed some degree of peace. To Clanricarde himself Forbes made much the same proposals as to Ranelagh, with the additional suggestion that he should allow him to garrison Tirellan as a basis of operation against the O’Flahertys, whom the Earl had acknowledged to be ‘out of protection and fit persons to receive chastisement.’ The invitation to give up a convenient private residence to the soldiers who had burned his cousin’s town of Timoleague was politely declined, but Clanricarde was ready to come from Loughrea and to receive Lord Forbes as a guest.[33]

Peters thought Clanricarde’s letter in which he excused the Galway people and laid the blame on Willoughby was well written and showed the writer to be ‘a man of wisdom and parts.’ In the meantime John de Burgo, titular bishop[Pg 40] of Clonfert, let the head of his family know that no one would fight for him if he sided with Forbes. While the correspondence proceeded, a detachment from the English squadron was landed on the Clare shore, and harried the lands of Daniel and Tirlogh O’Brien, who had both helped to provision the fort. Peters says they burned ‘a whole town.’ Two demi-culverins were landed on the west side of Galway, but it was ‘as strong and compact as most towns in Europe for houses and walls.’ Forbes said he would raze the latter if the townsmen did not agree to his terms, but the task did not prove easy. In the meantime Forbes’s men landed at various points on the north side of Galway Bay, burning every house and hamlet that they could reach as in an enemy’s country.

The country was so little safe that Clanricarde went to meet Ranelagh at Carrowreagh ford on the Suck with 200 horse. Ranelagh brought the same and as many foot, but no attack took place, and with the horse only they rode the first night to Clonbrock and the second to Loughrea. Clanricarde then sent to invite Forbes to dinner at Tirellan, but he did not care to venture so far inland, and proposed that the place of meeting should be the fort. Clanricarde, who took his stand upon the royal commission to him as governor of Galway, objected to this as beneath his dignity, especially after Forbes had refused his hospitality, and also because some attempt might be made to detain him. Ranelagh, who thought it unwise to stand upon mere points of honour, and who did not believe any one would dare to touch him, made no difficulty about entering the fort. He found Forbes much under the influence of Peters—a ‘pragmatic chaplain from London’—who urged him to attack the town. In the meantime soldiers both from the fleet and the fort ravaged the coast, many men and some women were killed, and Clanricarde had the pleasure of seeing his tenants’ houses burning. Forbes propounded large schemes of conquest with the aid of the Scots army in Ulster, over the impracticability of which Ranelagh and Clanricarde had a good laugh together. The President tried to persuade Forbes to go to Sligo, or to Tralee, whence help might be given from[Pg 41] the sea, but he preferred to press Clanricarde to admit his garrison to Tirellan. Some forty guns were landed, but there was no wood to make platforms, and Forbes soon recognised that he could not take Galway, where every house was like a castle. Sir Charles Coote had been expected, but he did not come. Clanricarde returned to Loughrea and Ranelagh to Athlone, while Willoughby remained in command of the fort, and on the worst terms with the townsmen.[34]

The officers knew that a strong town could not be taken with the means at their disposal, but the sailors were ‘readier to fall on nakedly than forsake the work, and the soldiers no way backward.’ The guns were taken on board, and Forbes departed to the Shannon. Askeaton, which had made so gallant a stand in the last Desmond war, surrendered without a blow. Sir Edward Denny continued to press for the relief of his castle at Tralee, but Forbes wasted two or three days in harrying the poor islands of Arran, and when at last he arrived off Ballingarry in Kerry it was only to hear that Tralee had fallen, the garrison having been reduced to eating hides. The expedition then returned to the Shannon, and captured a great piece of ordnance called ‘roaring Meg’ with which the Irish had taken most of the castles thereabouts. The gun was found in one boat and the carriage in another, so that this was an easy task. It was then proposed to destroy Sir Daniel O’Brien’s house at Clare Castle on the ground that he was no friend to the Parliament. Yet he acted in strict unison with the loyal and Protestant Earl of Thomond. Even the latter was doubted, ‘and in truth,’ says Peters, ‘his case is nice, the chief of the country being his kindred and himself without power saving fifty horses in his stable.’ He was, however, unwilling to see his country laid waste, and declined to join in the work. The Limerick shore was devastated instead. The Knight of Glin sent a letter of recommendation from Clanricarde, and offered to give cattle for the use of the squadron. Glin[Pg 42] Castle was nevertheless battered and stormed, the defenders being short of bullets. ‘Most matters,’ says Peters, ‘fell as at the last siege forty years since,’ but in shorter time and with the loss of only four men. ‘The plate and silver were gone for Limerick, which receives most of which is in Ireland.’ A garrison was put in, and guns mounted on the walls. This was done on September 26, and so the expedition ended, for the ships had only been hired till Michaelmas. Five vessels had been taken worth 20,000l., including one from Barbadoes with a cargo of tobacco, and corn to the same value had been destroyed. Many Irish towns had been burned, and many English relieved. Thousands of cattle had been taken or spoiled, and a diversion had been made on the west coast. This is Peters’s own summary, and it does not amount to much. It is more certain that Forbes did everything in his power to aggravate the bitterness of a war which was already sufficiently horrible. The pragmatic chaplain’s political remarks are interesting. He had been assured that a million of English had been murdered, and he hoped many more Irish slain. The cause of the war was Popery on the one side and profaneness on the other. The royalism of the Irish was a mere catchword. ‘An Irish rebel and an English cavalier in words and actions we found as unlike as an egg is to an egg,’ he adds rather ambiguously. Among the English there were many abuses both in ecclesiastical and civil government, many unfaithful ministers, and many scurrilous and ignorant congregations. Ireland, he prophetically concludes, will be reduced ‘when soldiers and commanders there shall rather attend the present work than the continuance of their trade.’[35]

When Clanricarde returned from the conference at Trim[Pg 43] he found things in a bad way at Galway. Little or no support was given him from Dublin, while agents of the confederates did all in their power, ‘both by spiritual and temporal practices,’ to seduce his men and to sap his great local influence. He was somewhat comforted by a letter from the King, who approved of his conduct, protested that Lord Forbes had no orders from him, and declared that he would support him rather than ‘those who pretend that they do really serve us by rebelling against us.’ Colonel John Bourke was acting as lieutenant-general for the confederates on Christmas Eve, and the question of closely besieging the fort was at once entertained. Willoughby had exasperated the townsmen by firing into their houses, and many were ready to retaliate, though the more prudent hesitated. His necessities forced him to drive cattle wherever he could, and he was not particular about the exact opinions of the owners. On one occasion fifty of his men were intercepted by a party from Galway, several being killed and others taken prisoners. From accounts given by the latter general Bourke was convinced that the fort might be starved out, and breastworks were erected on the points at the mouth of the river to prevent relief by sea. Chains were afterwards drawn across the channel. Of relief by land there was little chance, for Clanricarde’s castle of Claregalway had been betrayed to the Irish, and it was as much as he could do to provide for the safety of Loughrea and Portumna. Bourke had a garrison at Athenry, and some of his troops watched Roscommon so as to prevent Ranelagh from making any move. Preston had occupied Banagher, and Inchiquin, though he wrote civil letters, could find neither men nor money. Early in May Bourke besieged the fort in force, with about 1000 men, but he made no approaches, and trusted to famine. On or about June 10 Captain Brooke, who commanded a man-of-war in the bay, sent in a flotilla of boats to attempt the relief of the fort, but they were beaten back by boats from the town, assisted by the fire from the breastworks. Willoughby believed this to be his last chance, and as a choice of evils proposed to surrender his post into Clanricard[Pg 44]e’s hands. This could not be done without the consent of the Irish, and the terms offered by Bourke were such as Clanricarde could not in honour entertain. He held the King’s commission, and yet he was required to take the confederate oath of association, and to do nothing without the consent of the corporation of Galway, and of several other persons, the betrayer of Claregalway being one. Negotiations upon this basis necessarily failed, and Willoughby capitulated on the 20th without making Clanricarde a party. The garrison marched out with the honours of war, and were allowed to go on board ship. The post at Oranmore, which belonged to Clanricarde, was surrendered on the same terms without his consent. The day after the capitulation was signed a squadron sailed into the bay, which had it come sooner would have been able to relieve the fort. On August 6 Galway opened its gates to Bourke and granted him 300l., which enabled him to proceed to the siege of Castle Coote. The castles of Athlone and Roscommon in the Lord President’s hands, Loughrea, Portumna and Kildogan in Clanricarde’s, were the only other places in Connaught of which the Irish were not by this time masters.[36]

Owen Roe O’Neill had been appointed general of Ulster by the confederates, but it was some time before he was fully acknowledged, for Sir Phelim was very unwilling to yield the first place. It was found necessary to send primate O’Reilly as a peacemaker. Leven arrived in Ireland soon after O’Neill, but attempted little, and left the country in November, driven out, as Turner believed, by the insubordinate action of the officers. O’Neill claimed him as an ally if he was for the King, but would consider him an enemy if he was for the Parliament. ‘I charitably advise you,’ he wrote, ‘to abandon the kingdom and defend your own native country.’ According to O’Neill’s panegyrist this letter drove him away, but perhaps he really went because the Parliament of England invited him. According to Turner he appropriated 2500l. sent to him from England for the use of the army; ‘and truly this earl who lived till past fourscore, was of so[Pg 45] good a memory that he was never known to forget himself, nay, not in extreme old age.’ When leaving Ireland he told Monro that O’Neill would be too much for him, if ever he succeeded in getting an army together.[37]

O’Neill could get as many men as he wanted, but arms and ammunition were not so plentiful. He succeeded, however, in equipping a force of about 1500 men during the winter. In May 1643 Monro attacked him with superior numbers near Charlemont, but without much result, though he himself fought on foot to encourage his men, calling out ‘Fay, fay, run away from a wheen rebels.’ A second attack some weeks later also ended in nothing, but in July O’Neill was defeated by Robert Stewart near Clones, with the loss of 150 men. Shouts of ‘Whar’s Macart?’ showed that the great object was to capture the Irish leader, and he had a very narrow escape. O’Neill afterwards made his way to Mohill in Leitrim, where he procured a small supply of arms from Kilkenny and then encamped near Boyle. This camp was surprised in August by a small English force, and about 160 men killed and wounded, the sentries having been made drunk by Irish sutlers who brought them spirits from the neighbouring garrisons. Immediately afterwards O’Neill was ordered by the Supreme Council to join Sir James Dillon in Meath with as many men as possible. He succeeded in collecting 3000, with whom he marched across Cavan, taking castles on the way, till he came to Portlester near Trim. The castle near the ford was taken after a short cannonade, and O’Neill prepared to defend the passage of the Boyne against Lord Moore, who was approaching from Dublin with a superior force. A short fight took place, and Moore was cut in two by a cannon-ball, the gun being laid by O’Neill himself, with the assistance of a ‘perspective glass.’ The attempt to cross was then abandoned and the cessation was agreed to three days later.[38]

[Pg 46]

In the meantime Charles had made up his mind to treat with the Irish. As early as July 31, 1642, the nobility and gentry assembled at Kilkenny had petitioned the King for an interview where they might affirm their loyalty, and explain the grievances which had induced them to take up arms. This was forwarded through Ormonde, who was warned that if he refused to transmit it he would be held ‘guilty of all the evils that may ensue.’ He first communicated with the Lords Justices and Council, who agreed to forward a copy of the petition to the King with remarks of their own, but as they took a long time about it Ormonde sent over the original himself, ‘being well assured that his Majesty’s judgment is not to be surprised with any colours these rebels can cast upon their foul disloyalty.’ Charles took no notice of the document, and in December the Roman Catholics sent fresh petitions both to the King and Queen. They asked to have a place appointed where they might state their grievances at length. The result was a royal commission, dated January 11, to Ormonde and others, authorising them to meet representatives from the rebels and hear what they had to say. Thomas Burke, one of the Irish Parliamentary Committee who contributed to Strafford’s condemnation, brought over the packet and was himself joined in the commission, which made a very bad impression on the Protestants, since he was believed to have been an abettor of the original outbreak. ‘We have not thought fit,’ Charles wrote to Ormonde at the same time, ‘to admit any of them to our presence, who have been actors or abettors in so odious a rebellion.’ He also sent a paper pointing out that an abrogation of the penal laws would be asked for, but that nothing more could be granted than a mild administration of laws which were never severe. A repeal of Poynings’ Act, or any measure tending to make the Irish Parliament independent, was refused beforehand. Inquiries[Pg 47] into forfeitures or titles could not be carried further back than the beginning of the reign, and Recusants were never to hold the majority of official posts. Drogheda was at first designed as the place of meeting, but this was objected to by the Irish, and the conference took place at Trim on March 17. Ormonde was absent in the field, but the statement was received by Clanricarde, Moore, Roscommon, and Sir Maurice Eustace, and by them transmitted to the King.[39]

The Remonstrance presented to Clanricarde and his colleagues at Trim is an able paper, but it hardly afforded a basis for lasting peace between parties whose objects were radically different. The remonstrants objected to the penal laws, which resulted in driving all professors of the old faith from the service of the state, and in employing in their stead upstarts whose great aim was to enrich themselves. The attacks upon property which Strafford had begun were continued after his death, and Sir William Parsons in particular had incurred the gravest odium by using his position as Lord Justice and Master of the Wards to oust the old proprietors from their estates. They demanded a free Parliament, that is, a Parliament in which they would have an overwhelming majority. The Protestant party had never been the most numerous, and with the country in military possession of their opponents they could only hope to return very few members. The immediate result of the Trim meeting was that Charles superseded Parsons and appointed Sir Henry Tichborne Lord Justice in his stead. A few days later he authorised and commanded Ormonde to conclude a truce for one year with the Confederates, and when that was done to carry the Irish army over to Chester.[40]

Inchiquin had not much to fear in Munster from such a general as Barry, but he had no money to support an army in the field. He sent one part of his force to Kerry, where means of subsistence were found, and another under Sir[Pg 48] Charles Vavasour to the borders of Tipperary, while he himself sat down before Kilmallock. He had no hope of being able to effect anything without money or stores. Vavasour took Cloghleagh Castle, near Mitchelstown, and after the surrender some of his followers slaughtered the defenders, and apparently some women and children with them. In the meantime Castlehaven received a pressing invitation from some of the Cork gentry, who had no confidence in their own general. He persuaded the council at Kilkenny to give him money, with which he soon raised a body of horse, and on June 4 he routed Vavasour near Kilworth. On Castlehaven’s side only cavalry were engaged, Barry, with the main body, being more than two miles off, and the result was due to panic. Vavasour’s horse for the most part escaped, but he himself was taken prisoner and his force routed. This action was important, because it was the first victory of the Irish in the field since the beginning of the war, for the affair at Julianstown scarcely counted as a battle. Cox, with all his prejudices, says it was a just judgment on Vavasour and his followers, ‘for suffering some inferior officers to violate the quarter they had given to the garrison of Cloghleagh.’[41]

During the spring and summer Charles continued to press for a cessation of arms, full discretion as to terms being given to Ormonde. The commission to him sets forth that the two Houses of Parliament ‘to whose care at their instance we left it’ to manage the Irish war, had long failed to support the army and to defend loyal subjects. The general assembly of the Confederates met at Kilkenny on May 20, and appointed commissioners with powers to treat, but nothing was actually done for more than a month, when they delivered their first proposition at Castlemartin in Kildare. Ormonde gave his answer within a week, and the commissioners then asked for an adjournment till July 13. Time was in their favour, for the treaty would confirm each party in possession of what they held, and they were gaining ground. On the appointed day the commissioners returned a dilatory answer, and Ormonde resolved if possible to try conclusions with[Pg 49] Preston in the field. He collected 5000 men and succeeded in retaking Edenderry and some other strong places, but his opponent evaded a general action, and scarcity of provisions soon forced him to return to Dublin. On August 1 orders arrived from the King to arrest four Privy Councillors who sided with the Parliament as much as they could, and against whom charges had been brought. Sir John Temple, Sir Adam Loftus, and Sir R. Meredith were accordingly shut up in the Castle, Parsons being excused on making affidavit that confinement would injure his health. The opposition was thus silenced, and Ormonde found himself complete master. In the meantime Pier-Francesco Scarampi, an Oratorian, arrived at Kilkenny with a commission from the Pope, and immediately threw his weight into the scale against peace. The Confederates, he urged, appeared to be winning, and if they continued to fight vigorously they would probably get control of the country. Nothing was to be expected from the justice of any English party, but if they made themselves formidable they might extort respect from the victors, whether King or Parliament. Instead of giving money to Charles ‘to be converted by his ministers, our enemies, to their own use,’ it would be much better to employ their resources in driving the Scots out of Ulster. The Scots would not be bound by the cessation, which would be a sham as long as it was necessary to fight them. Foreign princes would be offended if arms supplied by them were laid down without their consent. The real object of Scarampi’s mission was to ‘reinstate the Catholic religion and worship throughout the whole country, and to restore to the entire island the splendour of its ancient sanctity,’ and not to beg an uncertain truce for a year. Bellings, on the contrary, who expressed the official view taken by the Supreme Council, argued that it was above all necessary to show that they were no rebels, to join with the English to drive out the Scots, and ‘that the Catholic Church may, in safety and freedom, by a tacit licence from the King, exercise her rights and jurisdiction among us.’ There was a great difference between what ultramontane priests were determined to get, and what[Pg 50] laymen, and especially lay landowners, were willing to accept. There can be no doubt that Scarampi, and Rinuccini after him, had plenty of justification for refusing to trust the King, who could do nothing unless he were victorious in England, and who would then be able to defy everyone.[42]

Ormonde offered to continue the war, in spite of the King’s wishes, if the Privy Council could find any means of feeding the army. This he knew they could not do, and the Confederates knew it too. All the chief officers declared that a truce was necessary. Both sides were fighting in the King’s name, and it did not suit either of them to disobey his direct orders, so that the conference was renewed at Sigginstown, near Naas, and there the terms of cessation were agreed to on September 15. The King’s commission being to Ormonde personally, he signed the articles alone on the one part. Ten persons signed on the part of the Confederates, of whom Lord Muskerry, Sir Robert Talbot, and Geoffrey Brown were perhaps the most notable. A meeting of the Privy Council was held immediately afterwards, and the articles were solemnly approved. Clanricarde and Inchiquin were present. In the articles of cessation none of the grievances so often brought forward by the Confederates were touched upon at all. On the other hand they refused to make any stipulation as to sending an army to England. This they were willing to do, but declined to bind themselves until after the conclusion of a truce. There was a cessation of hostilities for one year and nothing more, based upon the actual condition of affairs. All places in possession of the King’s Protestant or Roman Catholic subjects respectively were to remain so during the year, and trade was to be free. Prisoners were to be mutually restored. The practical meaning of this was that Ormonde retained the coastline from below Bray up to and including Belfast, and a strip of territory, including Naas, Navan, and Lisburn, with detached[Pg 51] garrisons at Athboy, Maryborough, and Carlow in Leinster. In Ulster Londonderry, Coleraine, and Enniskillen were also held by the Protestants, and in Munster they had the ports of Cork, Youghal, Kinsale, and Courtmacsherry, and the valley of the Blackwater from above Mallow to the sea. In Connaught Clanricarde, though not a Protestant, yet adhering to Ormonde, retained Loughrea and Portumna, while the Lord President kept the castle of Athlone, Roscommon, and Castle Coote. Monro and his Scots held Carrickfergus and Lough Larne, and all the rest of the island was in the hands of the Confederates. Within a week the cessation was proclaimed at several places in the Pale, and at the three Connaught fortresses, and directions for doing the like were sent to all principal officers. On September 16, the day after the signing of the articles, the Confederate commissioners granted the King 30,000l., half in cash and half in bullocks, payable by instalments extending over six months. A further sum of 800l. was to be paid within two months to maintain the garrison at Naas.[43]

In April 1642 Ormonde had received a jewel and the thanks of the House of Commons for his services against the ‘wicked, bloody rebels.’ In the following August, a few days after the raising of the royal standard, Charles made him a marquis. After the cessation he was appointed Lord Lieutenant, and the farce of Leicester’s viceroyalty came to an end. The latter was a very good but very weak man, and his vacillations prevented his being trusted by any party. Meanwhile Ireland had been left to substitutes without either the ability or the position required to command success. The ruling party in the English Parliament, whatever their shortcomings may have been, were opposed to the cessation. The King having informed them of his commission to Ormonde, they retorted that they had ‘just cause to suspect an impious design on foot to sell for nought the crying blood of many hundreds of thousands of British Protestants, by a[Pg 52] dishonourable, insufferable peace with the rebels, and then to lay the blame and shame of this upon the Parliament, a plot suitable to those counsels that have both projected and fomented this unparalleled rebellion’; for those who contrived the powder treason intended to lay it on the Puritans. The Lords Justices and Council informed both King and Speaker that their position was bad in the extreme, and that this was owing mainly to Parliament having failed to send the necessary supplies. To this the two Houses replied that they had made great efforts, and that in any case the direction of the war belonged to them, as well as the privilege of acting as bankers to the Irish Council. Full control had been conferred on them by Act of Parliament, and the King had no power to deprive them of it. This joint-letter is dated July 4, but was not delivered in Dublin till October 6, after the cessation had been actually concluded. The Lords Justices, with Ormonde and thirteen others of the Irish Council, rejoined in greatest detail, reviewing all that had passed between the two Governments. Such was the lack of money, after the great local efforts, that the sack of Dublin by the unpaid soldiery was a calamity daily expected. The parliamentary ships had failed to guard the coasts, so that the Confederate cruisers often intercepted such scanty supplies as were sent; and even captains employed by Parliament prevented the passage of necessaries from Liverpool to Ireland. A cessation was the only means of self-preservation, ‘and seeing that the charge of this war was referred to and undertaken by the Houses of Parliament of England, and that by those despatches they fully understood the condition of affairs here, we offer it to any man’s consideration whether or no we had not just cause to conceive and accordingly to express, that our difficulties were occasioned through the Houses of Parliament in England.’[44]

[Pg 53]

CHAPTER XXIV

AFTER THE CESSATION, 1643-1644

After the cessation had been concluded, but before its actual terms were known in London, the two Houses published a declaration against it, as destructive of the Protestant interest, and for the benefit of the ‘furious, bloodthirsty Papists.’ Protestant opinion even in Ireland was certainly against the cessation, and yet it was evidently a military necessity. If the troops left Dublin the Irish would be able to take it, and in the meantime, being unpaid, they robbed and plundered almost as if they had been in an enemy’s city. The general result was that Ormonde and the thoroughgoing Royalists were henceforth engaged, not in endeavouring to suppress a rebellion, but in trying to make terms with misguided belligerents. Those Protestants who thought more of religion and less of loyalty gravitated towards the Parliament. Ormonde lost no time in obeying the King’s order about sending troops to England. Before the end of October one regiment from Munster had landed at Minehead, and another at Bristol, under Vavasour and Paulet. They were, says Clarendon, very good and excellently officered, but not many in number, and they went to swell Hopton’s ill-fated army. The common men sympathised largely with the Parliament, though discipline and the hope of reward kept them together. About the middle of November 2500 men from Leinster landed at Mostyn, in Flintshire. About the same number came partly to Beaumaris and partly to the Dee early in the next year, but before that the first detachment had suffered a great disaster. Nantwich was garrisoned for the Parliament, and Sir William Brereton faced Lord Byron in the field. Hawarden, Beeston, and Northwich[Pg 54] quickly fell into the hands of the Royalists, and about the beginning of January Byron summoned Nantwich, which was soon hard pressed. Fairfax spent his Christmas in Lincolnshire, and after the capture of Gainsborough a message from Stamford informed him that Brereton was hard pressed in Cheshire. At Manchester, which he did not reach till January 12, he collected every available man, and on the 21st marched towards Nantwich with 2500 foot and 28 troops of horse. Byron’s force was about the same or perhaps a little stronger. Fairfax gained a complete victory, a large part of the contingent from Ireland being captured in Acton church. Seventy officers and about 1600 men were taken prisoners, including Monck, who was present as a volunteer, Colonel Warren, who commanded his late regiment, being also taken. ‘Warren’s regiment,’ says Sir Robert Byron, ‘though they had their beloved Colonel Monck in the head of them, was no sooner charged than they broke, and being rallied again, the next charge ran quite away.’ Their hearts were not in the work, and some 800 men chiefly from this regiment afterwards took service under the Parliament. They were Englishmen and Protestants, but this was not generally believed, and nothing made the King’s cause so hopeless as the imputation of having brought an army of Irish Papists into England. Lord Byron wished that reinforcements should be ‘rather Irish than English’ because they would have no seditious sympathies and he did not see why the King should not employ them, ‘or the Turks if they would serve him.’[45]

Ormonde had misgivings about the royalism of his army, and events showed that they were well founded. To make things as safe as possible he obliged all who went to England to sign a protestation of allegiance to the King and the Church, with a promise to hold no communication with[Pg 55] Essex or any other parliamentary officer. The soldiers were so anxious to get out of Ireland, where they had been starving and in rags, that they made no difficulty. Colonel Monck and Colonel Lawrence Crawford were the only officers who refused. Crawford, who was a covenanted Scot, was threatened with imprisonment, and took refuge with Monro. Monck, who objected to political pledges, was deprived of his regiment and allowed to go to Bristol, where he was arrested by direction of Ormonde in a private letter, but was soon allowed to go to the King at Oxford. Digby procured him an audience in Christ Church garden, where he told Charles that the war was ill-managed, and that the army should be reduced to 10,000 men, thoroughly equipped and with professional officers trained in the Low Countries. A commission was given him to raise a fresh regiment with the promise of a major-general’s command. Not having done the work before Nantwich, he preferred to fight there in the ranks, and when taken was sent to the Tower, where he remained in a destitute condition for two years, writing his book on military affairs and making love to Ann Radford. Charles, who had little to spare, once sent him 100l., a kindness which Monck never forgot.[46]

While Ormonde was negotiating with the Confederates under the title of ‘His Majesty’s Roman Catholic subjects now in arms’—he had not allowed them to style themselves ‘Catholics’ simply—a common danger was drawing the Scottish estates and the English Parliament into a closer alliance. One week after the conclusion of the Irish cessation the solemn League and Covenant was published by order of the House of Commons. The word League was introduced by Vane to emphasise the political character of the compact, for the growing Independent party had no idea of submitting themselves to the strict yoke of Presbyterian polity. Making this reservation and reducing the sum promised to 30,000l.,[Pg 56] we may accept Baillie’s account: ‘The authority of a General Assembly and Convention of Estate was great; the penalties set down in print before the Covenant, and read with it, were great; the chief aim of it was for the propagation of our Church discipline to England and Ireland; the great good, and honour of our nation; also the Parliament’s advantage at Gloucester and Newbury, but most of all the Irish cessation, made the minds of our people embrace that means of safety; for when it was seen in print from Dublin, that in July his Majesty had sent a commission to the Marquis of Ormonde, the judges, and committee there, to treat with these miscreants; that the dissenting commissioners were cast in prison; that the agreement was proclaimed, accepting the sum of 300,000l. sterling from these idolatrous butchers, and giving them, over the name of Roman Catholic subjects now in arms, a sure peace for a year, with full liberty to bring in what men, arms, money they could from all the world, and to exterminate all who should not agree to that proclamation;—we thought it clear that the Popish party was so far countenanced, as it was necessary for all Protestants to join more strictly for their own safety; and that so much the more, as ambassadors from France were come both to England and us, with open threat of hostility from that Crown.’ Monro refused to be bound by the cessation, but abstained from open hostilities until orders came from Scotland. ‘Here,’ says Turner, ‘was strange work, a man not able to prosecute a war, yet will not admit of a cessation. It cost us dear, for since the King’s restoration, all our arrears were paid us by telling us we were not in the King’s pay, since we refused to obey his commands; and very justly we were so served.’ By a clever stroke of the politicians rather than the theologians Ireland was made a party to the Covenant as ‘by the providence of God living under one King, and being of one reformed religion,’ thus excluding the Irish confederates from the rights of subjects.[47]

The confederate assembly sat at Waterford in the early[Pg 57] part of November, and summoned O’Neill to meet them there. It was determined to attack Monro, and indeed a chief object of the cessation was to have their hands free for so doing. Their great difficulty was about the choice of a general. O’Neill was the ablest officer available, but they feared to put so much power into his hands, and were influenced by ‘that ancient and everlasting difference’ between the North and South. They could not name Preston, between whom and General Owen O’Neill there was ‘such an antipathy as, from their first apprenticeship in soldiery, which they had passed at least thirty years before, notwithstanding their having served for all that time the same princes, and been employed in the same actions of war, could not be removed.’ After much discussion Castlehaven was chosen, for he was generally liked, and no one suspected him of personal ambition. O’Neill was pleased at the rejection of his enemy, but he wished to be general-in-chief, and the evils of divided command were not long in showing themselves. In the mean time Antrim came to Waterford, and there were some who thought good might be done at the English Court by giving him the title of Lieutenant-General. It was, however, expressly stipulated that he should have no real military authority in Ireland. He did not so understand it himself, or perhaps he only pretended not to understand, and proposed to carry into England the very forces which had been provided for the invasion of Ulster. This claim was quickly set aside, and Castlehaven was ordered to continue his preparations.[48]

Early in December, Owen O’Connolly arrived in Ulster with instructions from Westminster, and at once invited the English to take the Covenant. Lord Montgomery, his uncle Sir James, Sir Robert Stewart, Sir William Cole, Colonels Arthur Chichester, Hill, and Mervyn, and Robert Thornton, mayor of Londonderry, met at Belfast on January 2 and decided not to do so, but to consider themselves under Ormonde’s orders, which involved acceptance of the cessation. In writing to the Parliament they merely asked for money to prosecute the war against the rebels. But the bulk[Pg 58] of the men composing what were called the British regiments, as distinguished from Monro’s Scots, were of Scottish origin, and were induced to take the Covenant by the Presbyterian ministers, who were vigorously supported by Sir Frederick Hamilton. All were required at the same time to repudiate Strafford’s black oath and to confess their fault in taking it. A deputation of four ministers, one of whom was William Adair, was sent over by the Scotch General Assembly, and reached Carrickfergus at the end of March. Monro readily embraced the Covenant with all his officers and soldiers except Major Dalzell, whom Adair calls an ‘atheist,’ and who afterwards served in Russia, where he learned methods of warfare which made him no less odious as a persecutor than Claverhouse or the Laird of Lag. The country people followed the example of the soldiers. At Belfast, where Chichester commanded, the ministers met with some opposition, for he had published the proclamation against the Covenant by Ormonde’s orders; but everywhere else they were received gladly. At Coleraine, Colonel Audley Mervyn and Sir Robert Stewart were at first hostile, but the majority were favourable. At Londonderry Adair and his colleagues appeared in the market-place while the Church of England service was going on in the principal church, and the mayor and others,’coming from their sacrament, stood somewhat amazed,’ but did not molest the meeting. At Enniskillen they were equally successful, Sir William Cole, after some little hesitation, taking the Covenant himself. They went as far west as Rathmelton and Ballyshannon, and on their return to Londonderry Mervyn took the Covenant, the soldiers greeting him with shouts of ‘Welcome, Colonel.’ Sir Robert Stewart followed suit at Coleraine.[49]

Towards the end of December the English Parliament resolved to put the British and Scottish forces in Ulster under one commander, and Leven was named. He did not return to Ireland, but was authorised to appoint a lieutenant, and so at the end of April 1644 Monro obtained[Pg 59] the full command. Some of his unfed and unpaid troops had gone back to Scotland, but the remonstrances of the Ulster Protestants prevailed, and the policy of withdrawing from Ireland was not persevered in. The colonels of the British regiments met at Belfast on May 13 to deliberate as to what degree of obedience they would give Monro, and he resolved to anticipate their decision. In spite of Chichester and his proclamation the Covenant was popular in Belfast, and had many friends among the soldiers. Scouts were sent out during the night after the meeting of the colonels in consequence of reports as to hostile intentions on Monro’s part. They returned about six in the morning, saying that they had been within three miles of Carrickfergus and had seen nothing, the probability being that they had met the Scots and come to an understanding with them. At seven Monro appeared, and Captain MacAdam’s sergeant, who commanded the guard, at once opened the gate. Monro marched through the town unopposed, seized the gate at the other end, and took possession of all the cannon. Chichester was allowed to remain in the castle, which was his own house, with 100 men, but the other regiments were quartered outside the town. As soon as Belfast was secured, Monro marched on to Lisburn, but there he found the garrison on their guard and devoted to Ormonde. The English regiments were left in possession, but Monro succeeded in getting all the Protestant troops in Ulster to serve under him. On the last day of June he had collected 10,000 foot and 1000 horse at Armagh, and with these he marched to Cavan.[50]

Castlehaven’s army of 6000 foot and 1000 horse were in the meantime ordered to assemble at Granard, but not more than half had arrived when Monro’s approach was announced. He left Mountgarret’s brother, John Butler, to defend the passage into Leinster at Finnea between Lough Sheelin and Lough Kinale. According to an Irish writer, Butler was given to carousing at critical times, and he failed to maintain his position. Monro advanced as far as Carlanstown Castle,[Pg 60] which he burned, but finding that Castlehaven and O’Neill had joined forces at Portlester in Meath, he withdrew northwards again. He had started with provisions for only three weeks. Castlehaven then called on O’Neill to perform his promise of co-operating in an invasion of Ulster with 4000 foot and 400 horse, and O’Neill assured him that he should have no reason to complain when actually operating in the northern province. During the greater part of August and September, Castlehaven lay at Charlemont and Monro at Tanderagee, but there was no general action, and O’Neill was ill nearly all the time. In a skirmish at Scarva on the borders of Down and Armagh, Captain Blair was taken, and about 100 Scots killed. In another encounter between Benburb and Caledon three of O’Neill’s officers fell, Colonel Ffennell looking on with some of Castlehaven’s horse, but doing nothing to save them. There was evidently no love lost between the Leinster and Ulster men, and at last, about the beginning of October, Castlehaven returned to his own province. O’Neill upbraided him with the conduct of his officer, ‘a gentleman I see here, Lieutenant-Colonel Ffennell, with the feather, a cowardly cock, for seeing my kinsmen overpowered by the enemy, some of them hacked before his face, and a strong brigade of horse under his command, and never offered to relieve them.’ Castlehaven had very little help from the Ulster Irish, except in the way of provisions. ‘O’Neill,’ he said, ‘began to be very weary sometimes of assisting me with cows,’ and attributes the ill-success of the whole expedition to the ‘failing, or something else, of General Owen Roe O’Neill.’ On the other hand, we are told that O’Neill went to Kilkenny and demanded an inquiry, saying that the foreign residents would think very little of the Confederacy if neither general lost his head. A committee sat accordingly, but no report transpired.[51]

Having failed to acquire any real influence at Kilkenny,[Pg 61] Antrim went to England, and arrived at Oxford December 16, 1643. He talked about providing an army of 10,000, but was not at first taken very seriously. ‘We know the person well,’ said Digby, ‘and therefore wondered to find those probabilities which he made appear unto us of his power with the Irish.’ But Montrose was at Oxford, and saw his chance at once. On January 28, an agreement was made between Montrose, ‘his Majesty’s Lieutenant-General’ for Scotland and Antrim, ‘his Majesty’s General of the isles and highlands of Scotland,’ binding both to appear in arms by April 1. Antrim’s share of the work was to levy all the men he could in Ireland and in the Scottish isles, ‘and with the said forces invade the Marquis of Argyle’s country in Scotland.’ The witnesses were Digby, Robert Spotswoode, and Daniel O’Neill. The King himself directed Ormonde to give Antrim every possible assistance, and Daniel O’Neill was sent with him ‘by way of ballast,’ and as ‘the fittest person to steer him.’ It was very hard to bring the King to this point, for he distrusted Antrim and disliked O’Neill. But Digby was in his element, and he persuaded Charles to give Antrim a marquisate, which he vainly imagined would make him Ormonde’s equal, and to appoint O’Neill a Gentleman of the Bedchamber, which was his great object of ambition. At Oxford Antrim talked chiefly of the moderate courses to which he intended to lead the Irish, but at Kilkenny he had encouraged them to hope that by his interest all their objects would be easily gained.[52]

Antrim and O’Neill reached Kilkenny on February 23. In obedience to the King’s instructions, their first business was to persuade the Confederates to send him ‘10,000 men, well armed, to be transported into England with all possible expedition,’ and to provide them with artillery, ammunition, and shipping. The Supreme Council replied that they[Pg 62] would wait until they had a report from their agents at Oxford. Prince Rupert’s application for muskets and powder was also set aside, but some were sent in the following autumn. The expedition to the Scottish isles was agreed to, and the Council undertook to provide ‘2000 muskets, 2400 pounds of powder, proportionable match, 200 barrels of oatmeal, by May 1, upon knowledge first had that all other accommodations be concurring, and a safe and convenient port provided in Ulster; provided the same port be commanded by Walter Bagenal.’ Ormonde objected to put Carlingford or Greencastle into the hands of the Confederates’ nominee, and also to Bagenal’s being made governor of Newry, the rather that he had hereditary claims there which might prove awkward. After much wrangling, the Council agreed that the expedition should embark at Passage in Waterford harbour, but the flotilla, consisting of two Flemish and one Irish vessel, did not sail till June 27. The delay was aggravated by the difficulty of finding shipping, and by the necessity of watching the parliamentary cruisers. According to Antrim’s own account, the number of men sent was about 1600, and 800 more were discharged for want of shipping. Three weeks later Ormonde informed Digby that Antrim had sent ‘from Waterford and other adjacent places,’ 2500 men well armed and provisions for two months. The chief of the expedition was Alaster, or Alexander McColl MacDonnell, often, but incorrectly, called Colkitto. He was a man of great courage, remarkable for his strength and stature, and Leven thought him the most formidable leader of the Irish. On the way to Scotland several prizes were taken, on one of which were three ministers named Weir, Watson, and Hamilton, being among those who had gone over to administer the Covenant. Weir and Watson died in prison after enduring dreadful hardships, but Hamilton lived to be exchanged after ten months’ confinement. MacDonnell reached the Sound of Mull in safety, and seized upon the castles of Mingarry and Lochaline. The prospect was so unpromising that he thought of re-embarking; but Argyle, with the help of two English vessels, mastered his ships, and he was forced to go on. The Flemings surrendered at once,[Pg 63] but the Irish sailors, who fought desperately, were all killed and their ship burned to the water’s edge. He harried all the Campbell territory that he could reach, and afterwards that of the Mackenzies, and then tried to recruit his forces on the Spey. In the meantime Montrose had entered Scotland and summoned MacDonnell to meet him at Blair Athol. The Irish contingent took part in the victory of Tippermuir on September 1.[53]

The epic of Montrose belongs to Scotland, but it should be remembered that the Irish, as they are always called, formed the nucleus and the only stable part of his army, and that when Alaster Macdonnell forsook him, victory forsook him too. Antrim was Tyrone’s grandson, and the remains of the Ulster clans had no objection to follow him, though some of his levies were islemen or Hebrideans settled in Ireland. Patrick Gordon calls them ‘strangers and foreigners,’ adding that they showed no pity or humanity, nor made any distinction between man and beast, ‘killing men with the same careless neglect that they kill a hen or capon for supper. And they were also without all shame, most brutishly given to uncleanness and filthy lust; as for excessive drinking, when they came where it might be had, there was no limit to their beastly appetites.’ Spalding, who was present when Montrose sullied his fame by allowing the sack of Aberdeen, says they murdered and ravished for four days. The corpses lay unburied until women ventured to move them, for no man could show himself: ‘the wife durst not cry nor weep at her husband’s slaughter before her eyes, nor the mother for the son, nor daughter for the father; which if they were heard, then were they presently slain also.’ As long as the business consisted in harrying Campbells or Mackenzies, Alaster[Pg 64] Macdonnell had no difficulty in getting recruits from his fellow tribesmen on the main land, but after Kilsyth he and his Highlanders, who were gorged with plunder, deserted Montrose that they might carry their acquisitions home. No commands or entreaties of their general could prevail, says Sir James Turner, ‘to Cantire they would go, and to Cantire they did go.’ They cared nothing for Lowland or English politics. Some 500 Irish remained faithful ‘because they had no place of retreat,’ and these were cut to pieces at Philiphaugh, 300 of their wives being butchered there, and many others later at Linlithgow, where the horrors of Portadown bridge were repeated with the parts reversed. Those who are disposed to deny the Ulster massacres may ponder the words of Spalding and Gordon, while nothing can excuse the cruelty practised in retaliation.[54]

As early as November 1643 the Supreme Council of the Confederates, acting by order of their General Assembly, nominated seven commissioners as agents to attend the King and to state their grievances to him. The persons chosen were Lord Muskerry, Antrim’s brother Alexander Macdonnell, Sir Robert Talbot, Nicholas Plunket, Dermot O’Brien, Geoffrey Brown, and Richard Martin. There is some doubt about Martin, but all the others went over. The Lords Justices granted them a safe conduct in January, but there was considerable delay first at Kilkenny, and afterwards in waiting for a wind at Wexford. They landed in Cornwall and reached Oxford March 24. As soon as it was known in Ireland that the King would be likely to receive the Confederate agents, the more zealous Protestants began to prepare for a counter-mission. Charles expressed himself ready to hear both sides. Lords Kildare, Montgomery, and Blayney were the chiefs of the Protestant movement, and a deputation waited on Ormonde the day after he was sworn in as Lord Lieutenant. Michael Jones was the spokesman. Ormonde[Pg 65] answered that he was somewhat taken by surprise, but ‘for you English and Protestants, I assure you both of assistance and protection, and that, if need be, to the hazard even of my life and fortunes.’ The envoys first chosen were Sir Francis Hamilton, Captains Ridgeway and Jones, and Fenton Parsons. Jones, whose parliamentary sympathies led him to avoid the Court, refused to go, and Sir Charles Coote was substituted with the King’s consent. A petition of the Protestants was read in the Irish House of Commons on February 17, and approved by the House. The agents did not reach Oxford till April 17, and the King received them next day ‘in the garden at Christ Church,’ and desired them to prepare definite proposals. Charles had sent to Ireland for Chief Justice Lowther, Sir Philip Perceval, Sir William Stewart, and Mr. Justice Donnellan, who arrived about this time, accompanied by Sambach, the Irish Solicitor-General. Sir H. Tichborne and others went over later. Strafford’s old secretary, Radcliffe, who was already at Oxford, was ordered to join in their consultations. The whole case was then handed over to a committee of the Privy Council, consisting of the Earls of Bristol and Portland, Lord Digby, Secretary Nicholas, Colepepper, and Hyde.[55]

Hyde and Colepepper were hostile to the Confederates’ demands, and Radcliffe was even violent, ‘which,’ says a correspondent of Ormonde, ‘makes the Irish swagger very severely.’ Digby, who was much more favourable to them, said their first propositions were scandalous, and that all negotiations would have to be broken off unless they amended them. Muskerry, on the contrary, had assured Ormonde that their demands were an irreducible minimum. ‘Neither,’ he said, ‘is the highest of them such a rock, but that the King may find a way to satisfy his people in Ireland without[Pg 66] prejudice to his party in England. And the real advantage of the assurance of our kingdom, and of a nation so faithfully affected to his service, is much more considerable than the fears and jealousies to discontent a party.’ Unfortunately for this argument, Ireland was divided into parties quite as much as England, and concessions to Irish national feeling were certain to deprive the King of all effective English support. In spite of Muskerry’s assurance, Digby found him and his colleagues ‘beyond expectation counsellable, and they have this day, instead of the former, presented these enclosed propositions, which though in many things unreasonable for the King to grant, yet are not very scandalous for them to ask.’ Ormonde wrote to Muskerry advising moderation, and foretold that the time might come when ‘his Majesty might with more safety grant, than he can as yet hear propounded’ such of the agents’ desires as were in themselves just. The amended propositions demanded the repeal of all penal laws affecting the Roman Catholics, their relief from disabilities of every kind, and that a free Parliament, entirely independent of the English legislature, should at once be called. All proceedings of the Irish Parliament since August 7, 1641, should be annulled, as well as all outlawries, attainders, and other acts affecting the Roman Catholics prejudicially since that date. All forfeitures to the Crown in Connaught, Clare, Tipperary, Limerick, Kilkenny, and Wicklow since 1634 were to be abandoned, and the ancient possessors confirmed by law, the Court of Wards abolished, and trained bands established in every Irish county. The other demands were of less importance. Among the proposals waived by the agents was one which virtually placed all titles to land created since the beginning of Elizabeth’s reign at the mercy of the Irish Parliament. Another clause proposed to deprive the King of all right to maintain a standing army in Ireland. It was also required ‘that the present Government of the said Catholics may continue within their quarters and jurisdictions until the Parliament, and after until their grievances be redressed by Acts of Parliament, and for a convenient time for the execution thereof[Pg 67].’ The original propositions were such as might have been dictated by the victors to a conquered country. The amended propositions, though containing many things ‘in themselves just,’ involved the complete subjection of the Protestants in Ireland, and could never be granted by an English Government. If the King granted them it would only be because he had no longer any real power. The Irish Privy Councillors at Oxford, though more moderate than Coote and his colleagues, held that the toleration of Romish priests had been the cause of the rebellion, that what was called a free Parliament would contain few or no Protestants, most of them having been murdered or exiled, and that Poynings’ Act was one of the wisest ever made and ‘one of the precious jewels of his Majesty’s imperial diadem.’[56]

If the propositions of the Confederate agents seemed scandalous to Digby, those of Coote and his colleagues will not seem less so to modern readers. They demanded, among other things, that all penal laws should be strictly executed, that all the Roman Catholic clergy should be banished out of Ireland, that the oath of supremacy should be taken by every member of Parliament, mayor, sheriff, or magistrate; that no lawyer refusing to take that oath should be allowed to practise; and that there should be a ‘competent Protestant army.’ After a few days, the Protestant agents were summoned to meet Ussher, Henry Leslie, Radcliffe, and others. Radcliffe, on behalf of the Committee of Council, said their proposals were unreasonable, and that peace could never be made on any such terms. The agents then agreed to modify the demands, but still insisted firmly on the full execution of the penal laws, on maintaining the existing Parliament and Poynings’ law, on the encouragement of plantations, and on[Pg 68] disabling lawyers who refused the oath of supremacy. They waived the expulsion of Roman Catholic priests and the oath ex officio, and also the demand that all churches should be restored to them, rebuilt and refitted ‘at the charge of the Confederate Roman Catholics.’ A week later the agents were summoned before the King in council. Charles asked them whether they wanted peace or war. They said they preferred peace, but only upon honourable terms; and the King answered that he also would choose the hazard of war rather than that they should suffer by a peace of his making. He could not, he added, help them with men, money, arms, ammunition, or victuals, nor could he allow them to join with those who had taken the Covenant. It was consistent with Charles’s love for tortuous ways that he had tried to prevent Coote and his friends from knowing what the propositions of the Confederate agents were. They had oozed out, of course, and, making a virtue of necessity, the King now gave them a copy and requested their answers. This was done, and the absolute incompatibility of the two sets of agents was conclusively shown.[57]

Muskerry and his colleagues left Oxford first, and were followed by the Protestant agents on the last day of May. Both missions were dismissed civilly enough, but neither had gained their point. Percival told Ormonde that the failure of the Council to make any decision was reported to be the work ‘of one that labours to be commanded to Ireland, and hopes to rule all there.’ This points unmistakably to Digby, who probably encouraged the King to refer everything back[Pg 69] to Ormonde. This was done by a commission dated June 24, and to enable the Lord Lieutenant to arrive at a decision, all the propositions by both sides during the Oxford negotiations were sent to him, and also the King’s answer to the Confederate agents. They were told that the King would not ‘declare Acts in themselves lawful to be void,’ but that the penal laws had never been harshly executed; and that if his Irish subjects would live peaceably and loyally, they should be as moderately administered ‘as in the most favourable times of Queen Elizabeth and King James.’ He would allow a new Parliament to assemble, but ‘would by no means consent to the suspension of Poynings’ Act.’ Many lesser demands were wholly or partly conceded, but religious toleration and the Irish Parliament would still depend on the King’s will. If the Confederates could be got to accept such terms, Ormonde was authorised to conclude peace upon that basis, and to go further if he found it consistent with the present preservation of the Irish Protestants. If peace could not be had on reasonable terms, then he might renew the cessation for as long as he thought expedient. Ormonde lost no time in informing Muskerry and his colleagues that he was commissioned to treat for a peace or truce, and asked them to prepare the ground among their friends. ‘Let me tell you,’ wrote that astute courtier Daniel O’Neill, ‘that our friend the Marquis of Ormonde has a hard task put upon him: for it is imposed upon him to end that in Ireland which all the Council durst not look upon in England.’[58]

During St. Leger’s illness and since his death, Inchiquin had been acting-President of Munster. His services had been great, and he was not willing to see anyone put over his head. ‘If the King,’ he wrote to Ormonde from Cork, ‘have bestowed the ‘presidency on any other (though more worthy) personage, I hope your lordship will not command my stay longer here.’ Ormonde disliked his going, but gave no direct[Pg 70] order, and Inchiquin was at Oxford early in February. It soon appeared that the King had many years before promised the presidency to Portland, and though Radcliffe and Digby were in despair, the most that could be obtained for Inchiquin was the reversion. As Portland would not waive his claim, this really amounted to nothing. Inchiquin received a warrant for an earldom; but that was not what he wanted, and he did not use it. Hopes were held out to him of commanding the Munster troops in England; but his best regiments had been assigned to Hopton and others, and he saw no chance of anything in that direction. At Oxford he dissembled his ill-humour, but before the end of March it was generally known in Ireland that he ‘came discontented from Court.’ Ormonde’s idea was to keep the presidency of Munster vacant, so that Inchiquin should be kept quiet by seeing the great prize always dangling before him. Portland’s object was to sell his interest without going to Ireland; but he does not appear to have offered it to Inchiquin, who kept pretty quiet during the spring and early summer. When the result of the Oxford negotiations was known, he and the other Munster officers declared strongly against a peace which could not be had without abandoning the Protestants. As a proof of their danger, they cited a Franciscan named Matthews who had been executed as a spy after having confessed that he was concerned in a plot to betray Cork to Muskerry. Ormonde had heard reports that there was some plot. After Marston Moor it became evident that the King was powerless to protect the Irish Protestants, and Inchiquin resolved to throw in his lot with the Parliament. Broghill afterwards told Ludlow that he persuaded him without much difficulty to take this step. The letter in which Inchiquin declared himself—for he assured Ormonde that this was his first advance—was signed also by Broghill as governor of Youghal, and by the governors of Cork, Kinsale, and Bandon. Each of the subscribers offered to go on board a parliamentary ship as a hostage, there to remain until all four towns were in sure hands. A letter with the same signatures was also sent to the King, who was urged to come to terms with the Parlia[Pg 71]ment as the only means of saving the Irish Protestants. Aware that he might be distrusted, Inchiquin reminded the governor of Portsmouth that he was forsaking a plentiful fortune ‘for the good of the cause,’ and that he was ready to make room if another commander was thought fitter to subdue the Irish rebels. Bandon was easily secured, for it was a Protestant place; but Inchiquin took the strong step of expelling the Irish inhabitants from Cork, Youghal, and Kinsale. This was a very harsh measure, especially for a chief of the O’Briens; but it may be defended on military grounds, the only defence of the Munster Protestants lying in the four garrisons, without which they would be quite cut off from England. Inchiquin’s brother Henry, after making great professions of attachment to the King, surrendered Wareham on August 24 and brought his regiment over to serve the Parliament in Ireland.[59]

[Pg 72]

CHAPTER XXV

INCHIQUIN, ORMONDE AND GLAMORGAN, 1644-1645

Protestants in Ireland complained with reason that they got little help from England during the truce, while communication with the Continent was quite free to the Confederates. There were parliamentary cruisers, but not nearly enough to do the work, and a Spanish captain named Antonio was engaged by Castlehaven to keep them at a distance. His frigate of 400 tons and sixteen guns appears to have been cast away at Dungarvan; but he commanded other ships and was active to the very end of the war. Letters of marque were issued from Kilkenny, and it was long before even the port of Waterford was closed. The numerous inlets on the west coast it was impossible to blockade at all. There were endless complaints on both sides as to breaches of the truce, but the recriminations on this subject are scarcely worth discussing. After he had once taken the Parliamentary side, Inchiquin gave himself a free hand.[60]

On October 24, 1644, both Houses at Westminster passed an ordinance to the effect that no quarter should be given to any Irishman, nor to any Papist born in Ireland, taken in hostility against the Parliament in England and Wales or on the high seas. All officers by land and sea were therefore ordered to leave all such Irishmen and Papists out of every capitulation, agreement, or composition. If taken, they were to be ‘forthwith put to death.’ When the French National Convention made a similar order about British prisoners, French officers refused to carry it out; and the majority in the Long Parliament evidently feared such a refusal, for they[Pg 73] declared that every officer neglecting to observe their ordinance should be ‘reputed a favourer of that bloody rebellion in Ireland,’ and liable to such condign punishment as both Houses might inflict. Pym and Hampden were dead, and it is uncertain under whose influence this savage decree was passed; but it seems that Captain Swanley and others had anticipated it by throwing prisoners into the sea, and that they had been blamed for so doing, as there were many English prisoners in Ireland upon whom it would be easy to retaliate.[61]

Cork had some time ago agreed to give 4000l. for the support of the army, and a part of this sum still remained unpaid. Inchiquin’s first order during the last week in July was that the citizens should pay the balance or make up its value in provisions and bedding. All the Roman Catholic inhabitants were ordered to leave the town, except the mayor and aldermen and their families, one hundred men selected by the rest, the widows of aldermen, and the sick. They were to carry out nothing with them, but if the supplies required were provided, they were to be allowed to return from time to time and carry off all their property, but not to remain in the town during the night. Robert Coppinger, the mayor, made the best fight he could, but, according to his own account, Inchiquin exacted more corn and money than was owing, and was very harsh in other ways. He gave warrants, says Coppinger, to enter the houses of the banished inhabitants, to carry off almost everything that might be useful to the garrison, ‘leaving all the doors of the houses wide open, and exposed, with all the rest of the goods therein remaining to the insolency of the common soldiers.’ When the people came back for their property, according to the proclamation, there was very little left. From the nature of the case, and from what we know of Inchiquin, it is not likely that the work was very gently done; but it is nowhere alleged that any life was lost. Similar measures were taken at Youghal and Kinsale. Broghill was governor of the former town, and he forbade all officers, soldiers, and others ‘to break[Pg 74] open the houses of any persons who have in obedience to my proclamation left this town,’ or to plunder any Irish Papists ‘on pain of death.’ On August 24 eleven parliamentary ships entered Cork harbour, while seven appeared at Youghal and six at Kinsale. Proclamation was at once made that all civilians should leave Cork unless specially licensed to remain, giving security to keep themselves in provisions for six weeks. All Irish Roman Catholics were henceforth to leave the town at six until Michaelmas, and at five after that day, so that the garrison might be always ready to resist an attack. A market was established outside the north gate. The Youghal people took the Covenant, and Inchiquin told Ormonde that he should be compelled to do the same, unless the Lord Lieutenant put himself at the head of the Protestant movement. A stringent oath was at the same time administered to Protestants, who declared themselves allied for defence and swore never to make peace until the terms were approved by Parliament as well as by the King. Colonel Brockett, governor of Kinsale, wrote to Ormonde in commendation of Inchiquin’s zeal, and announced that a ship laden with provisions had come from Middleburgh to Cork for the relief of the distressed Protestants. A little later in the year there was a curious intrigue, the object on both sides being probably to see how far Ormonde would go. Major Muschamp, the governor of Cork fort, let Muskerry know that he had Royalist leanings and might be induced to surrender his post to the Lord Lieutenant. Muskerry forged an order from Ormonde to deliver the place to him. Muschamp said the order must be placed in his hands; but this Muskerry refused for obvious reasons. The plot came to nothing, and Muschamp told the whole story to Inchiquin in presence of his staff. Ormonde was doing his best to serve the King without betraying the Protestant cause, but he had little thanks from anyone. That Henrietta Maria should call Inchiquin a miserable knave was not to be wondered at. As to Ormonde, she is reported to have said it was hard to trust him or ‘any Irishman that is a Protestant, for every Irishman that goes to church does it against his conscience, and knows he betrays[Pg 75] God.’ The letter containing this passage was intercepted, and a certified copy came to Ormonde’s hands.[62]

The result of Ormonde’s application to Muskerry and his colleagues in the Oxford business was a letter from the general assembly of the Confederates appointing commissioners to treat for peace. The Oxford agents, all lawyers except Muskerry, Antrim’s brother, and Colonel O’Brien, were nominated, with the addition of Mountgarret, Antrim, Archbishop Fleming, Sir Richard Everard, Patrick Darcy, and John Dillon. Of these commissioners, Martin, Dillon and Barron were afterwards proposed by the Confederates as judges of the superior courts, and nearly all the others as Privy Councillors. Ormonde objected at once to ‘your Archbishop of Dublin, who, though a man as free from exception (as unto his person) as any we could expect to be treated with, for we have heard exceeding much good of him, and we do believe no less, so as if we were to admit any of his function he should be the man.’ He had already announced that he would not treat with any clergyman, and the Confederates gave way. Some delay had been caused, and the commissioners did not meet Ormonde until September 1, when they practically repeated the Oxford propositions. The cessation was at once prolonged to December 1, and questions of statute law and of title to land being involved, a committee of lawyers was appointed to assist the Lord Lieutenant. The chief demands were the repeal of the penal laws, the suspension of Poynings’ Act, and the power of their ‘free Parliament’ to try offences. They were all rejected.

The negotiations were then suspended for a time. Sir Henry Tichborne, who thought the cessation very dishonourable, left Oxford on December 31. He and others were taken at sea by one of Swanley’s captains, and were sent to the Tower. Tichborne was soon released, and afterwards sided[Pg 76] definitely with the Parliament in Ireland. About the same time Swanley intercepted some correspondence between the Confederates and their foreign allies, and he sent copies to Ormonde, cautioning him about the dangers hanging over his ‘truly honoured family’ and his ambiguous position with regard to the Protestants. The Lord Lieutenant’s task was indeed a hard one. The question of a universal act of oblivion was left undecided, the Confederates contending that their oath of association precluded all exceptions, while Ormonde was unwilling to pardon criminals merely because the country had been in a state of war. In the end, Charles conceded the act of oblivion to ‘all treasons and offences, capital, criminal, and personal’ on land, and to piracy and its attendant crimes in the Irish seas.[63]

The negotiations dragged along slowly and intermittently throughout 1644 and 1645, but peace, as between Ormonde and the Confederates, was preserved by frequent renewals of the cessation. In the meantime the Kilkenny government sought eagerly for foreign support. Bellings left Galway on the last day of December 1644 with credentials addressed to Louis XIV., Anne of Austria, Henrietta Maria, Mazarin, Innocent X., the Grand Duke of Tuscany, Cardinals Grimaldi and Bentivoglio, and the Governments of Venice, Genoa, and Belgium. He had not intended to visit anyone at Paris except Henrietta Maria; but the Jesuit O’Hartegan, who was resident agent for the Confederates, persuaded him to see Mazarin. The Cardinal was very inquisitive, and might stop Bellings in France if thwarted. He did not like the application of the Confederates to Rome, because Innocent X. was much under Spanish influence; but Bellings answered that though his employers were bound to neutrality as among Catholic princes, yet their natural leaning was to France, where their exiled Queen had found shelter. Bellings himself had certainly French sympathies, and told Mazarin that[Pg 77] it was from France that Ireland really expected help. ‘And in truth,’ he adds, ‘the promises given now and often before, had they been performed, might well have satisfied our expectation.’ On reaching Rome, Bellings found that Rinuccini was already appointed nuncio. The two men disliked each other from the first. When Bellings found that Innocent was sending a moderate sum of money, he importuned for more, but was told that the late war in Italy and preparations against the Turks had exhausted the papal treasury. He then loudly proclaimed that he was quite satisfied with the Pope, lest his backwardness should be an excuse for others. Innocent was at least liberal with his briefs, but they had no effect either at Florence or Genoa. Bellings did not even visit Venice, the Cretan war being excuse enough for the republic. On his return to Paris he found that there was little or no hope from France without assuming a hostile attitude to Spain. As the final result of his long expedition Bellings reported that ‘all men wished well to the cause, but no man was in condition to assist it.’ He accompanied Rinuccini to Ireland.[64]

Bellings understood that the help of France and Spain ‘rather seemed a traffic for men and a gratification for the levies made in Ireland for the service of both crowns, than marks of a royal bounty and a real will to assist them.’ Early in 1643 the Confederates allowed Spain to recruit in Ireland, the number of men, after some haggling, being fixed at 2000. Philip IV. then made them a present of 20,000 crowns, which was laid out in arms and ammunition. With the Parliamentarians in command of the sea, it took a long time to get the men away, and they could not be spared till after the cessation. Then it became necessary to promise the same number of soldiers to France. At last, in February 1643-4, the Spanish agent or envoy was received by the Supreme Council, and told that he should have his men by June 25. He was a Burgundian named Foisset, and came, not from Spain, but from Don Francisco de Melo in the[Pg 78] Netherlands. Next day the French representative, De la Monnerie, was received and had exactly the same answer. Monnerie was a gentleman of the bedchamber, and his sole business was to get as much food for powder as possible in Ireland. It would seem that both agents were privately told that the great object of the Council was to favour their respective sovereigns. Meanwhile their lawful King was calling for Irish troops in vain. Monnerie did manage to get off 1300 men from Galway early in 1645, not being able to get shipping for more in Ireland, and Mazarin failing to send the vessels which he promised; but the recruiting still continued. Monnerie seems to have done better than his rival, and reported that ‘the Spaniard who is here’ began to lose heart and to declare loudly that the Supreme Council was quite French. It was Mazarin against Don Luis de Haro. A Colonel Plunket was promised forty crowns by Ottavio Piccolomini for every man he could land in Flanders, but the Kilkenny authorities would not let him do the work.[65]

Immediately after the outbreak in 1641 the Irish of Western Munster had sent Francis O’Sullivan, a Franciscan, to solicit the help of Spain. A little later, James Talbot, an Augustinian, was sent on the same errand, and returned with 3000l. in silver, 4000 muskets, four pieces of cannon and other stores, purchased with the 20,000 crowns obtained from Philip IV., but not without much bickering as to whether the Celtic O’Sullivan or the Anglo-Norman Talbot deserved the credit. In acknowledgment, it was proposed to send 1000 men to Spain; but there was a difficulty about transport, and they never started. Talbot was sent again in June 1643 with an offer of two thousand and directions as to how he should spend any further sum he might receive. The landing of the money and arms at Dungarvan during the negotiations for a cessation made Ormonde’s task harder; but the Spanish Government had transferred the matter to the Governor of the Netherlands. Talbot went there instead of to Spain,[Pg 79] and returned with Foisset. He perhaps thought it the best thing to do, but the Supreme Council never fully trusted him afterwards. It was found that unauthorised persons had been begging in Spain for the Irish cause, and had kept the money received, and it was thought expedient to cancel all former credentials and to send a new envoy to Spain. The person selected was Hugh Bourke, a Franciscan, who had been doing good service in the Netherlands, whence he was transferred directly. He went by Paris, where he met Rinuccini on his way to Ireland, and impressed him by his cleverness and energy. The instructions to Bourke, dated December 12, 1644, throw great light upon the position of the Confederates. The war was represented as being purely a struggle ‘for the Catholic Church in its splendour.’ Nothing at all is said about the Ulster barbarities, but the Protestant party are simply described as ‘taking advantage, before we were provided of arms and ammunition, to destroy many thousands of people unarmed, and exercise barbarous cruelties against man, woman, and child, sparing none that did come within their power, and intending to extirpate the whole nation.’ Nevertheless, the Confederates, having received some arms from abroad, had re-established the Catholic religion in full splendour and been victorious everywhere except ‘in some particular places and parts of the kingdom.’ Among those particular places, unfortunately, were Dublin, Cork, Youghal, and Kinsale, Londonderry and Coleraine, Carrickfergus and the rising settlement of Belfast. If the Spaniard inquired why such a victorious party had agreed to a truce with Ormonde, Bourke was to reply that it was thought wise to be on terms with one hostile party so as to be free to crush the other. Nor had the calculation been unsuccessful, for Ormonde had sent 12,000 men to England, most of whom had been killed. As to the Oxford propositions, the Confederates had thought it expedient to ask for freedom of religion only, and ‘you may inculcate the reason (which God knows to be true), it was to win time, and our construction shall be freedom in splendour if holpen with possibility of subsistence.’ The ultimate goal was to be an Ireland whose[Pg 80] victorious soldiers ‘would not rest satisfied, but try their valours elsewhere for religion, as long as any heretics did remain in the neighbouring provinces.’ The duplicity of Charles I. was rightly complained of by the Confederates; but it was not greater than their own.[66]

Duncannon Fort in Wexford guards the approach both by the Suir to Waterford and by the Barrow to New Ross. Every large ship must necessarily pass under the guns, but the place is very weak on the land side, being commanded by higher ground. The defences had been strengthened in 1611 by Sir Josias Bodley, a younger brother of Sir Thomas, who founded the Oxford library. Bodley was a skilful engineer, and was fully aware of Duncannon’s weak point, though he probably considered his works strong enough to resist a purely Irish attack. When the rebellion broke out the governor of the fort was Laurence Lord Esmond, a strong Protestant Royalist, and he held it for the King; but the majority of his men were much more inclined to the Parliament. Summoned by the Confederates to join them as the loyal party, Esmond refused to do so without orders from the Lords Justices, and those orders were of course never given. He made great efforts to maintain discipline, but as he could neither pay nor feed his men they were forced to drive cattle and otherwise spoil the country. With the help of some English ships they burned Dunmore in Waterford, which was too near a neighbour, but in an attempt to seize the Hook Tower, their over-enterprising leader, Captain Aston, and some sixty of the garrison, were taken or slaughtered, having been surrounded in a fog by a large number of the natives. This was as early as July 1642, and it settled the question as to whether the fort was really friendly to the Confederates or not. The garrison continued to plunder in 1643 and 1644 without regard to the cessation, and it was soon resolved at Kilkenny that the fort must, if possible, be reduced. Among Esmond’s officers two should be men[Pg 81]tioned, Major Ralph Capron, who said he was ‘too old to forego his loyalty,’ and Lawrence Larcan, lieutenant of Esmond’s own company of foot, who made no secret of his adhesion to the English Parliament. Esmond made great efforts to obtain relief from Ormonde, but nothing effectual could be done for him, and early in August Inchiquin sent Captain Smithwick to induce him to declare for the Parliament. This he steadfastly refused to do, but told Ormonde that his life was not safe ‘among so desperate and mutinous a pack,’ as the garrison had become. ‘Poverty is the cause of this, and to tell truth, my lord, they are indeed naked.’ A month later Captain Bright arrived in the Parliamentary vessel Jeremie, and anchored off the fort. He brought with him the Covenant and a commission from Inchiquin appointing Larcan to the command. The Covenant was eagerly subscribed by all but Esmond himself, Capron, Richard Underwood the principal chaplain, and perhaps one or two other officers. Captain Bright promised supplies, and the soldiers refused to obey Capron, whom Esmond accordingly sent with despatches to Dublin. Larcan, who is described as active and witty and a leader of men, said ‘the King was a tyrant, an extortioner, an oppressor of the subject, and a Papist,’ and he hoped that the Parliament would soon ‘scour’ him. In the meantime Larcan did what he could to scour the country, while Parliamentary captains were busy at sea. The fort became such a scourge that the Confederates resolved to besiege it.[67]

Preston sat down before Duncannon on January 20, 1644-5, with about 1500 foot. He had both cannon and mortars, and the wonder is that the place held out at all. There was a garrison of about 150 men with twenty-two guns, but no proper supply of water inside the fort, and no doctor or surgeon. A French engineer named Lalue directed the siege operations, which dragged out to a great length. Three[Pg 82] weeks after the first investment Inchiquin wrote to say that he could give no relief unless help first arrived from England, and he pointed out that the Confederates might have easily mastered all the Munster towns if they had not exhausted their strength in the Ulster expedition under Castlehaven. Admiral Swanley wrote about the same time from Milford to say that he was sending a collier under convoy to give the garrison fuel, and also shipping to convey reinforcements for Inchiquin, but that ‘as for the soldiers from this country (England), they are not to be drawn from this service without an inevitable prejudice.’ Inchiquin could hardly hold his own, nor could he trust unpaid men. Communications between the fort and the sea were never interrupted, and small supplies were sent in from time to time, and thirty-eight seamen took their part in the defence on shore. At the beginning of the siege an attempt was made by the Parliamentary ships to drive the assailants from their works, but very few shot went even near the mark. Fire from a floating platform is seldom satisfactory against an enemy on a hill. As Lalue drew his lines closer and advanced his guns, still less could be done from the sea. On February 19, five ships anchored under Credan Head in full view of the fort, but their commanders dared not come within reach of the plunging fire, by which one Parliamentary vessel had already been sunk. Frequent sallies of the garrison annoyed the enemy, who suffered from bad weather and from the labour of making approaches in the rocky ground. Lalue contrived an infernal machine which appears in advance of his time. A trunk filled with explosives and calculated to go off when opened was left near the gate of the fort. Esmond suspected a snare, and advised that the trunk should be soaked in the sea for some hours, but the soldiers were too impatient, and the explosion took place. The besiegers heard the noise and expected great results, but only one person was killed, a woman who had drawn near out of curiosity. There were some men in the fort who sided secretly with the besiegers, and when the trenches approached the ditch communicated with them by letters tied to bullets and flung by hand. At last[Pg 83] an assault was made, but, says Bellings, the musketeers who were to cover the storming party had their pieces rendered unserviceable by a whirlwind which blew away the priming and filled the pans with gravel. The assailants were beaten off with great loss, but Larcan, who had been the soul of the defence, was hit by a stone which a round shot had displaced. A surgeon might have saved him, but there was none, and he died. The sap went on until a mine was brought up to the rampart, and the second assault was likely to be successful. Vice-Admiral Smyth with the Swallow and other vessels lay in the offing, and to him Esmond made a last appeal. ‘Your lordship,’ the sailor quaintly answered, ‘hath but two things to consider of: first, the potency of the enemy; next, your abilities to subsist. For, before any relief can overtake you, it will be ten or eight days at soonest. Now, if you find in your strength a disability, then our Saviour Jesus Christ gives you the best counsel, who sayeth: agree with thy adversary quickly while thou art in the way.’ If they waited for the assault, he argued, they would all be put to the sword, but if they capitulated so many gallant men would be available for future service, and might perhaps even have a hand in recapturing the fort. As for the guns, they must go with the place, for if they were ‘all of beaten gold’ there was no means of embarking them. The poor old governor could only lament that he had been encouraged to hope for help which had never come, and replied that he would try one stratagem more by asking for a Protestant garrison named by Ormonde. Two days later he still defied Preston, and declared that he would not surrender without the direct orders of the King or the Lord Lieutenant. Larcan being gone, the other officers prepared to take Smyth’s advice, and Esmond was at last forced to ask for a parley. Preston was not bloodthirsty, and on March 19, being the fifty-ninth day of the siege, the garrison marched out with the honours of war, and were allowed to go to Dublin, Bristol, or Youghal, as they themselves preferred. A few men took service with Preston. Esmond waited till a carriage could be got, but died at Adamstown on the road to Enniscorthy. The fort[Pg 84] was not without provisions or ammunition at the time of surrender, but the want of fresh water was very pressing. There had been torrents of rain, but either from want of time or from want of vessels it had not been sufficiently utilised. Only about thirty men had been killed, though the besiegers had burned 19,000 pounds of powder. Duncannon was taken on March 19, and on Lady Day Scarampi came in and said high mass. The Confederates boasted much of their success, in announcing to their friends at Paris the capture of what they call the ‘impregnable fort of Duncannon.’[68]

Charles had handed over the reduction of the Irish rebels to Parliament early in the day, and had told the Protestant agents at Oxford that he would rather have war than peace at their expense. As long as negotiations were entirely in Ormonde’s hands this was no empty promise, but when the King decided to employ a private envoy as well, the situation was a good deal modified. The person selected was Lord Herbert, eldest son of the Marquis of Worcester, who had made immense sacrifices for the royal cause. Both father and son were Roman Catholics, and ardent champions of their faith. In history the latter is best known as Earl of Glamorgan, and so Charles styled him, though the creation was never formally made. On April 1, 1644, when the Irish agents were at Oxford, the King had granted him under the Great Seal a patent of so extraordinary a character that its main provisions must be repeated, though perhaps no episode in English history has been more thoroughly discussed. By this document he was constituted generalissimo with extraordinary powers of three armies, English, Irish, and foreign, and admiral of a fleet at sea; with authority to raise money by pledging wardships, customs, woods, and other hereditary property of the Crown. ‘Persons of generosity’ were to[Pg 85] be encouraged to subscribe in return for titles of honour, ‘for whom,’ the King wrote, ‘we have intrusted you with several patents under our Great Seal of England, from a marquis to a baronet, which we give you full power and authority to date and dispose of without knowing our further pleasure.’ Charles solemnly bound himself to ratify all the patentee’s acts, and and to give his daughter Elizabeth to Glamorgan’s son Plantagenet ‘with 300,000l. in dower or portion, most part whereof we acknowledge spent and disbursed by your father and you in our service.’ Finally he was promised the dukedom of Somerset with power to ‘put on the George and blue ribbon’ at his pleasure, and to bear the garter in his coat of arms. The affixing of the seal to this patent may have been an amateur performance, the joint work of Endymion Porter and of Glamorgan himself, ‘with rollers and no screw press,’ but the document was genuine, and the king knew all about it.[69]

His sanguine hopes of Irish and foreign forces having been dashed, and Marston Moor having been fought, Charles turned to Glamorgan again. The latter had married Lady Margaret O’Brien, the late Earl of Thomond’s daughter, and his many Irish connections might give him influence. Ormonde was informed that ‘Lord Herbert’—the title of Glamorgan was dropped here—had business of his own in Ireland, and that he might be found incidentally useful in bringing about a peace. ‘His honesty or affection to my service,’ says the King in a cypher postscript, ‘will not deceive you; but I will not answer for his judgment.’ Yet to this man of more than doubtful discretion were given three commissions, the first of which authorised him to levy an unlimited number of men in Ireland and other parts beyond sea. By the second Charles promised ‘in the word of a King and a Christian’ to confirm all Glamorgan might do, whatever irregularities might appear when his powers came to be criticised. The[Pg 86] third was a royal warrant to treat with the Confederate Roman Catholics of Ireland, proceeding with all possible secrecy. Ormonde was warned by friends in England to be on his guard against Glamorgan, who left Oxford soon after receiving the last commission, but circumstances changed a good deal before the latter reached Ireland. He sailed from the Welsh coast, but was chased by a Parliamentary ship and driven to Lancashire, whence he made his way to Skipton Castle, and there stayed for three months, during which Naseby was fought. In his instructions to Glamorgan which preceded the first of the three commissions above mentioned, the King promised solemnly to ratify whatever should be ‘consented unto by our Lieutenant the Marquis of Ormonde,’ but authorised him to supply if possible anything ‘upon necessity to be condescended unto and yet the Lord Marquis not willing to be seen therein, or not fit for us at the present publicly to own.’ Glamorgan seems to have given a verbal promise to consult Ormonde in everything, but there is no evidence that the Lord Lieutenant knew this, and it is only known to historians because Glamorgan, after his failure, was reproached by the King for not having done so.[70]

A few days after giving Glamorgan his instructions, Charles wrote to Ormonde defining clearly the extreme point of his possible concessions to the Roman Catholics. He promised that ‘the penal statutes should not be put into execution, the peace being made and they remaining in their due obedience. And further that when the Irish give me that assistance which they have promised, for the suppressing of this rebellion, and I shall be restored to my rights, then I will consent to the repeal of them by a law. But all those against appeals to Rome and Præmunire must stand.’ A month later the orders were that Ormonde should hasten the peace upon the terms already granted, but that if he could not do so he was to avoid a rupture and to continue the cessation.[Pg 87] Only three days later came a ‘command to conclude a peace with the Irish, whatever it cost, so that my Protestant subjects there may be secured and my regal authority preserved.’ Charles said he would not think it a hard bargain if the Irish could be heartily engaged on his side in England or Scotland, upon condition of repealing the penal laws at once, and of suspending Poynings’ Act for that and kindred purposes. But he did not tell Ormonde whether he still considered the statutes against foreign ecclesiastical jurisdiction part of his ‘regal authority,’ and he directed him to ‘make the best bargain he could, and not to discover his enlargement of power till he needs must.’ The King’s position remained substantially unaltered during the spring and early summer, but four days after Naseby he told Ormonde that Irish help was more necessary than ever. ‘If,’ he wrote, ‘within two months you could send me a considerable assistance, I am confident that both my last loss would be soon forgotten, and likewise it may (by the grace of God) put such a turn to my affairs, as to make me in a far better condition before winter than I have been at any time since the rebellion began.’ The Lord Lieutenant was to conclude the peace as quickly as possible, and then to come over himself at the head of an army. The course of events was destined to be very different.[71]

When Glamorgan reached Dublin about the beginning of August, he found no peace signed and no army ready to embark. As Charles’s necessities grew, so did the demands of the Irish bishops, and the King’s orders to conceal his powers prevented Ormonde from saying at once what was the furthest point to which he could go. Glamorgan was present at some of the meetings between the Lord Lieutenant and the Confederate commissioners, and he then went to Kilkenny. Ormonde told his brother-in-law Muskerry, who went there also, that the news of Naseby had made the conclusion of peace more needful than ever. He urged him to help Glamorgan, but at the same time acknowledged his independence,[Pg 88] and to some extent deprecated the idea that he was acting in concert with him. ‘I know,’ he wrote, ‘no subject in England upon whose favour and authority with his Majesty, and real and innate nobility you can better rely than upon his lordship’s.’ Muskerry, who was anxious to come to terms with the King, no doubt made full use of this testimonial, and so Glamorgan, relying entirely on his commission of March 12, proceeded to ‘engage his Majesty’s royal and public faith’ for the due performance of the articles known as ‘the first Glamorgan treaty.’ Ormonde was no party to them in fact or in name. ‘Free and public use and exercise of the Roman Catholic religion’ was granted to all without exception. All churches possessed by the Roman Catholics at any time since October 23, 1641, were granted to them, ‘and all other churches in Ireland other than such as are now actually enjoyed by his Majesty’s Protestant subjects.’ All jurisdiction of the Protestant clergy over Roman Catholics was taken away, and an Act of Parliament was promised to abrogate the penalties for breaches of the Acts of supremacy and uniformity. Glamorgan also promised ‘on behalf of his Majesty,’ confirmation to the Roman Catholic clergy of all temporalities possessed by them at any time since the fatal October 23, two-thirds of the profits for three years or during the continuance of the war being applicable to the royal service and one-third to the support of the clergy. Glamorgan afterwards explained that he intended the immediate wants of the Protestant clergy to be provided for out of the two-thirds reserved to the King. That any English Protestants at that time were willing to grant unlimited toleration may well be doubted, but it is certain that there were none ready to confirm everything that had been done against their own clergy since the rebellion began. The consideration offered by the Confederates was 10,000 men, armed one half with muskets and one half with pikes, to be shipped by Glamorgan to any port he might choose. These troops were to be kept together in one entire body under the Earl’s leadership, all other officers being appointed by the General Assembly or Supreme Council. Ten days later[Pg 89] Glamorgan solemnly swore to tell the King everything, and ‘not to permit the army entrusted to his charge to adventure itself, or any considerable part thereof, until conditions from his Majesty and by his Majesty be performed.’ In the meantime the treaty was kept secret, and the negotiations between Ormonde and the commissioners of the Confederates went on pretty much as before.[72]

Glamorgan soon returned to Dublin, leaving the original of his treaty in the hands of the Confederates, but Archbishop Walsh ordered copies to be given to several ecclesiastics, and the secret was not very long kept. Meanwhile the negotiations with Ormonde dragged their slow length along, and the arrival of Lord Digby, who in those days was an Anglican champion, did not make concessions on ecclesiastical matters more probable. The appearance of a papal nuncio at this stage was the one thing needful to make the situation hopeless. After Rinuccini landed in Kerry, but before he reached Kilkenny, Archbishop Queely was killed in a skirmish before Sligo, and a certified copy of the Glamorgan treaty was found upon his person. As early as the previous April Charles had written two letters, one to the nuncio and one to the Pope, and had entrusted them to Glamorgan for delivery. He promised Rinuccini to perform all that he should agree upon with Glamorgan, whom he praises in exaggerated language. ‘This,’ he concludes, ‘is the first letter that we have ever written directly to any minister of the Pope, hoping that it will not be the last, but that after you and the said Earl have done your business, we shall openly show ourselves, as we have assured him, your friend.’ When the King wrote this dangerous letter, Rinuccini was already at Genoa on his way to Ireland.[73]

[Pg 90]

CHAPTER XXVI

FIGHTING NORTH AND SOUTH—RINUCCINI, 1645

Military operations in Munster, though contributing towards the general result of the war, did not at the moment interrupt the negotiations between Dublin and Kilkenny. As Lord President of Munster for the Parliament, Inchiquin was not bound by any truces but those of his own making, and Broghill as governor of Youghal was practically in the same position. Duncannon being taken, and the truce expiring soon after, Castlehaven invaded Munster with 5000 foot and 1000 horse. ‘The enemy,’ wrote Castlehaven long afterwards, ‘in this province had always been victorious, beating the Confederates in every encounter ... every gentleman’s house or castle was garrisoned, and kept the country in awe. To begin, therefore, this field I made my first rendezvous at Clonmel, and the army encamped not far from it. Thither came Dean Boyle, now Lord Chancellor of Ireland, and then married to my Lord Inchiquin’s sister; his business was to persuade me to spare Doneraile and other houses and castles not tenable.’ They parted friends, but Castlehaven made no promise, and marched to Cappoquin, where he summoned the castle, believing that the failure to take it before had been owing to the town being attacked first. Here and elsewhere his terms were fair quarter in case of immediate surrender, but ‘no quarter at all’ in case of prolonged resistance. Cappoquin preferred the first alternative, but the commandant was afterwards executed by court-martial for cowardice. According to Broghill and others, articles of capitulation were not always well observed, but from what we know of Castlehaven[Pg 91] this may have been the fault of his subordinates. The possession of Cappoquin bridge enabled him to pass the Blackwater at will, and Inchiquin was too weak both in men and supplies to oppose him seriously. Youghal was summoned with the boast that mass should be said there in six days, but Broghill replied that God should be worshipped there for six months. Mitchelstown refused the first summons, but soon yielded at discretion, when ‘two or three,’ says Bellings, ‘of which one was a minister, that were charged to have been upon several actions cruel to the Irish were hanged for their unsoldierly obstinacy.’ The logic or morality of this is not very clear. Dromana surrendered, as well as Knockmone, which Sir Richard Osborne had defended since the beginning; but Lismore held out under Major Power. In the meantime a strong body of horse under Broghill had crossed the Blackwater by the ford of Fermoy, and Purcell persuaded Castlehaven to detach his own cavalry, ‘which I count certainly among my other follies.’ As Purcell came on, Broghill retired over the river and faced about at Kilcruig, half-way between the ford and Castle Lyons, with a scrubby wood between him and his pursuers. The Irish straggled through the covert, and before they had time to reform, Broghill charged and defeated them with great loss. The main body of Castlehaven’s army being visible in the distance, he retired to Castle Lyons and sent all the men he could spare to Inchiquin.[74]

From Fermoy Castlehaven proceeded to clear the country north of the Blackwater. Mallow, Doneraile, and Liscarroll were taken with little or no resistance, but Milltown, which had made a brave defence in 1641, threatened to give trouble. Some boys who made a hole in the courtyard wall to steal[Pg 92] cattle found a way into the castle: soldiers followed, and the place was taken by assault. Annagh Castle, which was then surrounded by bog, made a brave resistance under Lieutenant Fisher. A breach was made with the artillery and the garrison was put to the sword. The English account says this was done in cold blood after Fisher had been treacherously killed during a parley in sight of his own men. Bellings acknowledges the slaughter, but says it was during an assault. While Castlehaven was busy to the north of the Blackwater Inchiquin fell upon the district of Imokilly between Cork and Youghal. Rostellan and Castle Martyr both held for his uncle Edmond Fitzgerald. In the final division of the spoils the first fell to his lot, and the second to Broghill’s, and no doubt both leaders intended something of the kind from the first. At Rostellan, says Bellings, ‘Sir Richard Meagh, the Catholic Dean of Cork, and Captain William FitzJames Barry were hanged, which actions, how justifiable soever by arms, yet made a great noise and increased the animosities between them, the clergy of both sides being therein concerned. Hearing of Inchiquin’s raid, Castlehaven hurried to the relief of Castlemartyr, but was delayed by a flood at Fermoy, and when he passed the river met the late garrison. He thought that 140 men with plenty of arms and provisions ought to have made a better fight. He found the castle burned, and having just failed to intercept part of the Youghal garrison who retreated with their guns at his approach, he seized Cloyne and Aghada and recaptured Rostellan after a short struggle. Thomas Barham, Dean of Ross, was hanged to match the other dean, and Inchiquin’s brother Henry, ‘one of the most malicious of our enemies,’ would have had the same fate, but that the officers preferred to reserve him for special judgment by the King. This was just before Naseby. Ballyhooly and Castle Lyons were also taken, and at Conna Castlehaven made an example ‘by putting to the sword some, and hanging the rest.’ He believed that the siege of Youghal would ‘rather be a work of hours than days,’ but there were plenty of men there, and the sea was open. Broghill hurried off to England for help and to[Pg 93] place his wife and his sister, Lady Barrymore, with the young Earl, in a place of safety.[75]

Castlehaven reported that he had cleared the baronies of Imokilly and Barrymore completely both of people and cattle. ‘I conceive in this I have done my Lord of Inchiquin more mischief than in killing a thousand of his men,’ for this source of supply was quite cut off. He hoped to take Youghal and to besiege Cork before harvest, but this sanguine letter was written two days after Naseby. Lismore was taken at last after a gallant defence by Major Power, and the garrison admitted to quarter. Templemichael capitulated, Castlehaven undertaking the safe custody of the garrison to Youghal, but Broghill complains that he kept them for a fortnight and sent them in when nearly starved. The general’s proceedings at Mogeely and Strancally were also objected to, but both banks of the Blackwater from Mallow to the sea were in his hands before the end of June. Several hundreds of the King’s soldiers taken at Naseby were sent to relieve Youghal, but the curious experiment was hardly successful, for when provisions ran short they deserted. ‘I could wish,’ writes a zealous Protestant, ‘no more might be sent over. They are brutes, void of reason or understanding, or they would never hasten so much to the herd of unclean beasts.’ Some of them, however, might have taken the oath of allegiance devised for the benefit of Protestant Royalists, involving the independence of the Irish Parliament and co-operation with ‘the Confederate Catholics (saving in the freedom of religion).’ About the middle of July an Irish vessel reached Nantes with the news that Youghal had fallen, and that Castlehaven was on his way to Cork, but the wish was father to the thought. Inchiquin sent some reinforcements from Kinsale, but the Duncannon frigate with many men was blown up in Youghal harbour during an artillery[Pg 94] duel with one of the Confederate batteries. After this Youghal was effectively blockaded on both sides of the river, but the besiegers never came to close quarters. At the beginning of October Preston came with his army, but finding that in Munster he would be only second to Castlehaven, went back in dudgeon to his own province, leaving the country, as Bellings mildly puts it, ‘much offended at the unusual liberty the soldiers assumed in his return.’ Youghal was no longer in danger, having been relieved early in September by Broghill, who brought over reinforcements from England. Inchiquin also was able to send supplies from Cork and Kinsale, and the Parliamentary Vice-Admiral Crowther commanded the sea. After Preston left him, Castlehaven attempted to take the great island in Cork harbour, which was of the highest importance to Inchiquin. The bridge at Belvelly appears not to have been then in being, and the attempt to cross the narrow channel failed, both horses and men sticking in the mud. After some indecisive skirmishing in the direction of Blarney, Castlehaven returned to Youghal, where he found his army dwindling away, and disheartened by Preston’s desertion. Those who remained were dispersed into winter quarters, and Youghal was left to itself. So far as Munster is concerned, this failure may be called the turning point of the war.[76]

While Castlehaven was in Munster the Scots threatened Connaught, where there were now virtually three provincial presidents—Lord Dillon of Costello for the King, Sir Charles Coote for the Parliament, and Archbishop Queely for the Kilkenny Confederacy. Ormonde steadfastly abstaining from denouncing the Scots as rebels, for many who had taken the Covenant were really Royalists, and those who had refused it were still worse disposed to the Parliament, whose promises[Pg 95] of help had not been kept. The hard treatment of the King at Uxbridge and Montrose’s successes in Scotland had a great effect in Ulster, and for a moment Ormonde thought it possible to unite the English and Scots forces there under his own banner. The officers of the British forces in Ulster—excluding Monro and the new Scots—met at Antrim on May 17 and agreed to receive commissioners from the Parliament. They proposed, in spite of all the misery they had undergone, to continue the war until the conclusion of a safe and honourable peace by consent of King and Parliament, but, they significantly added, they ‘called heaven and earth to witness that it was not their fault, if they were forced to take any other way whatever for their preservation and subsistence.’ Five days before this Coote, who was in England, received a commission as President of Connaught. He hurried over to Ireland, and the presence of so resolute an officer with the necessary authority soon changed the aspect of affairs. First he entered his province at Ballinasloe and ravaged the country almost up to Galway. His next thought was to take Sligo, which was held by Teige O’Connor with a colonel’s commission from the Confederates. Four thousand foot and 500 horse assembled at Augher in Tyrone on June 17, consisting both of English and old Scots, and battering guns were sent to Sligo by sea. At the instance of Clanricarde, Ormonde gave a commission to Lord Taaffe, authorising him to raise troops and resist all who invaded Connaught in breach of the cessation, and Lord-President Dillon was directed to use his services in the last resort; but the appointment was ineffectual for the immediate purpose. Ten days later cannon were brought to bear upon Sligo Castle, and O’Connor surrendered. The town was defended a little longer, but was carried by assault with great slaughter. The Irish accounts say that men, women, and children were killed after quarter had been promised, ‘so as never a man escaped but two men and two women’; but these charges were generally made by both sides during the war, and it is not always possible to test them. The Sligo district was now at the mercy of Sir Frederick Hamilton and his allies, but recruits flocked to[Pg 96] Taaffe’s standard in considerable numbers, and he turned his attention to Roscommon. Tulsk was taken by storm, and Major Robert Ormsby, a redoubtable partisan of the Parliament, was taken prisoner. Carrigdrumrusk and Boyle also fell, and then Lord Taaffe was recalled to Dublin. The chief authority in Connaught was for a short time in Archbishop Queely’s hands, but Major Luke Taaffe appears to have commanded the force which attempted to recover Sligo in October. A priest is out of place at the head of any army, and probably some of the evils attending a divided command were felt. At all events a very bad look-out was kept. On October 17 a cavalry detachment from Sir Robert Stewart’s army, under Lord Coloony and another Coote, fell upon the Irish and put them to flight. Sir Frederick Hamilton came up in time to take part in the pursuit, and there was great slaughter. Archbishop Queely was killed, and upon him was found the copy of the Glamorgan treaty which played so important a part.[77]

Giovanni Battista Rinuccini was of a good old Florentine family, and had been carefully educated. He was in his fifty-third year, and had been Bishop of Fermo since 1625. In 1631 he refused the archbishopric of Florence, telling the Grand Duke Ferdinand II. that he was too much attached to his flock to leave them. When the Irish Confederacy begged for a regular nuncio, Luigi Omodei, afterwards a cardinal, was first chosen, but passed over as a Spanish subject, whose appointment might be disagreeable to France. This was the reason given, and it seems sufficient, but according to Bellings Rinuccini was preferred to please Ferdinand, and that the[Pg 97] revenues of Fermo might be applied for a time in liquidation of the bishop’s debts. He was given almost unlimited ecclesiastical authority and patronage in Ireland, with power to visit all monasteries and nunneries, even exempt jurisdictions, and to settle disputes between the various orders. He was directed to be chiefly guided by the advice of archbishop Queely and Bishop Emer Macmahon, and he was to establish the Tridentine decrees firmly. With regard to church lands in lay hands, he was to use his own discretion, treating each case on its merits, and giving grants or leases as he thought best, but always with the proviso that a sufficient part of the profits should be retained for the support of the clergy. About ecclesiastical matters in Ireland the Roman court was very well informed, Luke Wadding being at hand to answer every question. But political affairs were less well understood. Rinuccini was told, for instance, that the Parliament had ‘bound themselves by a sacrilegious oath to maintain and defend what they called the true reformed Protestant religion against all Popish inventions and innovations, and determined to extinguish every spark of the Catholic religion, by extirpating all who adhered to that faith, not only in England and Scotland, but even in Ireland. This dreadful sentence came to the knowledge of the Irish at a time when four thousand men were in arms, who had been levied for the service of the King of Spain, but were then detained in Ireland by order of the Parliament.’ The detention of the troops was indeed one great cause of the outbreak in 1641, but the men had been levied originally not for any foreign prince, but to enable Charles and Strafford to crush the English Parliament and their Scots allies. Parliament was undoubtedly ready to oppress the Roman Catholics, but there is no evidence of any intention to extirpate them. The friars persuaded the people that this had been determined on, and the argument was too convenient to be neglected. The main object of Rinuccini’s mission was to ‘restore and re-establish the public exercise of the Catholic religion in the island of Ireland, and further to lead her people, if not as tributaries to the Holy See, such as they were five centuries ago, to subject themselves[Pg 98] to the mild yoke of the Pontiff, at least in all spiritual affairs—thus to gain over souls innumerable to the glories of Paradise.’[78]

The nuncio was informed that the cessation and its various renewals had done no good, and that peace was unlikely because Ormonde would ‘never yield save by force to the wishes of the Catholics.’ The Lord Lieutenant’s Protestantism was sincere, but in Rinuccini’s secret instruction a lingering hope is expressed that he might be gained over, perhaps through the Queen or ‘any particular predilection of which advantage might be taken.’ He had one predilection, the supremacy of the Crown in Church and State. The same secret instructions declared that Henrietta Maria must be kept out of Ireland, because Royalist heretics would flock round her and make the Irish suspicious, and because queens are expensive people to maintain. The Pope would give no help to the faithful in England except on condition that all disabilities affecting them should be taken away, the oath of supremacy abolished, and no peace made until these concessions were confirmed by Parliament. ‘To secure these conditions all the fortresses in Ireland must be put into the hands of English and Irish Catholics, because without some such pledge, their Majesties’ promises can not be depended on.’ No Irish army was to be landed in England if of less force than 10,000 men, ‘who may be able to defend themselves without danger of being cut to pieces by the English who serve under the King ... the Irish Catholics are so hated by the English Protestants that they would be in constant danger of treachery, if marching with cavalry, commanded by Protestant officers,’ and therefore the provision of a body of English Catholic cavalry proportionate to the Irish infantry was a condition precedent to the latter serving in England, and there is much more of the same kind. Had Charles known what ideas prevailed at Rome there would have been no Glamorgan treaty, no royal letters to the Pope or nuncio, and very probably no battle of Naseby.[79]

[Pg 99]

Rinuccini travelled by Florence and Genoa, where the Doge’s attentions much delighted him, to Marseilles, and thence by Lyons, where the cardinal archbishop was barely civil, and he reached Paris at the end of the third week in May. He had strict orders not to linger long in the French capital, ‘lest the ill-affected should warn the Parliament of the enterprise.’ They were not likely to be ignorant, for the English merchants at Leghorn had plotted to intercept him at sea between Genoa and Cannes. He carried with him the golden rose, which was a dead secret, and he was ordered not to deliver it to Anne of Austria unless he was sure that it would be well received. There was some ill-feeling on account of the Pope’s late refusal to make Mazarin’s brother a cardinal, and this was increased by the mistake of a secretary who infringed diplomatic usage by neglecting to inform the nuncio at Paris of Rinuccini’s mission. The refusal to give up Beaupuis, who was implicated in the conspiracy of the Importants, and had been arrested at Rome at the French queen’s instance, made matters worse, and Rinuccini soon determined not to offer the rose, which would probably be refused under the circumstances. The Irish flocked to the nuncio with requests and advice, but the French were not enthusiastic. The Duke of Orleans, indeed, and the Prince of Condé, were friendly, the latter expressing the most extravagant devotion to the Holy See, but Mazarin was merely smooth and cautious. Jealousy of Spain was much more apparent in Court circles than sympathy with Ireland, but the devout Duke of Ventadour promoted a subscription of 100,000 crowns. After the news of Naseby the French became cooler than ever, but Henrietta Maria begged Rinuccini to bring about peace between the Irish, saying that she was empowered to do this by her husband. The persons trusted by her in the matter were the Jesuit O’Hartegan, whom Charles considered a knave; Bellings, who had reached Paris soon after the nuncio; and the inevitable Jermyn. Scarampi in the meantime was writing from Ireland that ‘the peace, if concluded, would be fatal.’ Rinuccini’s long stay in France was so far favourable to Scarampi’s views that the Confederates were unwilling to[Pg 100] conclude anything until he arrived, and in the meantime the King’s necessities grew more pressing. ‘I have observed,’ says the nuncio, ‘that many in France are anxious to assist the King of England, but would rather it should be by the help of others, and consequently they would greatly like he should be aided by the Irish. Mazarin, who made some difficulty about an audience, gave vague promises, but was very cautious. Henrietta Maria offered to see Rinuccini privately, but he declined anything short of an official reception. It is perhaps true that she tried to prevent him from going to Ireland, for Scarampi showed from her letters that she was ‘always ready to treat of peace without one word concerning religion,’ and indeed it was quite impossible for her to act so as to alienate Protestant Royalists. It was equally impossible for her to please all parties.[80]

Bellings, who is a very hostile witness, says Rinuccini disliked the idea of Ireland, and tried to get himself appointed nuncio to France instead of Monsignor dei Bagni, and Mazarin seems to have been of the same opinion. However that may be, it is certain that he lingered for more than three months in Paris, and that he was severely reprimanded by the Pope for doing so without showing a sufficient reason to vary his original instructions on that point. At the date of that reproof he had got as far as Tours on his way to the coast. He succeeded in wringing 25,000 crowns from Mazarin, and persuaded Bellings to go to Flanders in the hope of preventing him from getting first to Ireland. O’Hartegan had letters in his possession which showed that Charles was trying to use the Irish for his own purposes, and had taken care that they should be known in Ireland, his object being to prevent any peace without extraordinary securities. Rinuccini sailed at last from the island of Rhé, more than six months after leaving Florence, accompanied by Bellings and about twenty Italians, of whom the most remarkable was Massari, Dean of Fermo. A nephew of the great Spinola, who soon died at[Pg 101] Kilkenny, was sent before to explain or excuse the delay. There had been much difficulty about shipping, but the frigate San Pietro was obtained with Mazarin’s money. The cardinal said the French flag would protect all on board, but this turned out not to be the case. Rinuccini carried with him a considerable sum in specie and a large quantity of arms purchased in France, a consignment of swords, pistols, and muskets with 20,000 pounds of powder having preceded him to Ireland. The total amount received from Rome and from Mazarin was about 200,000 dollars, and of this nearly one-half had been laid out in arms and other warlike material. At sea the nuncio was chased first by an English squadron and afterwards by Plunket, a notorious rover or pirate, who, having become ‘a Puritan,’ was trusted by the English Parliament. Superior speed averted the first danger, but Plunket would have succeeded had not a fire broken out in his galley. ‘The frigate,’ says Rinuccini, ‘was dedicated to St. Peter, whose gilded image was placed at the poop ... and truly I see the hand of the Saint in the miraculous issue of this pursuit.’ In spite of this it was thought too dangerous to approach Waterford, and after six days at sea the San Pietro at last found shelter in Kenmare bay. The nuncio’s first letters are dated from Ardtully, about four miles to the eastward of Kenmare. ‘And here,’ he writes, ‘I may give your Eminence another proof of the Divine providence towards me in having discovered and touched land on October 21 and 22, which seem to be consecrated to an archbishop of Fermo, as on the 21st my Church celebrates the feast of Saint Mabel, one of the 11,000 virgins, whose head we have at Fermo, and whom we believe on no slight grounds to have been of Irish birth; while on the 22nd we also celebrate the martyrdom of St. Philip, Bishop of Fermo.... My first lodging was in a shepherd’s hut, in which animals also took shelter.’ The arms were temporarily stored in Ardtully Castle, and to avoid Inchiquin, Rinuccini proceeded by Macroom and Millstreet through the mountains to Limerick. The ruggedness of the roads and the steepness of the passes were, he says, indescribable, but the faithful[Pg 102] flocked to meet him, and Ormonde’s brother Richard, specially sent by the Supreme Council, was among those who escorted him. At Limerick he found Scarampi, who had succeeded in making the hitherto neutral city declare itself, and heard of Archbishop Queely’s death. He reached Kilkenny on November 12, and was received with much pomp, which he evidently enjoyed. The Supreme Council held a special sitting in the Castle, and the nuncio had a chair covered with ‘red damask enriched with gold and handsomer than the president’s,’ but Mountgarret did not leave his place either at the beginning or end of the ceremony. The arrangements were made by Bellings, who would be sure to preserve the dignity of the civil power.’[81]

[Pg 103]

CHAPTER XXVII

THE ORMONDE PEACE, 1646

While at Rochelle waiting for his ship, Rinuccini had seen Geoffrey Baron, treasurer of the Confederation, who told him that no peace had yet been made in Ireland, and who brought a letter from Glamorgan. Baron, ‘a cavalier of excellent countenance and very affable manner,’ was on his way to Paris to succeed O’Hartegan, who seems to have returned to Ireland a little later. Glamorgan returned from Dublin to Kilkenny one week after the nuncio’s arrival, and in due course delivered the King’s letter to him. Of that to the Pope he only showed the address, but he disclosed the contents of two ‘patents in which the King gives him secret but full powers to conclude a peace with the Irish, on whatever terms he thinks advisable.’ In the meantime Lord Digby, who bore the now empty title of principal secretary of state, had arrived in Dublin. It was characteristic of Charles’s diplomacy that his English minister was even more ignorant of Glamorgan’s business than his Irish viceroy. Glamorgan was sanguine that the nuncio would agree to everything required; but Ormonde calls him ‘the Italian bishop,’ and an ‘unbidden guest,’ which he would not have done had he known of the King’s letter to him. Rinuccini found that the majority of the Confederates were inclined to accept Ormonde’s political articles, and to leave the religious question for later consideration. Noblemen and lawyers saw plainly enough that the King could not grant what would satisfy the Pope without making his position in England hopeless, and they wished to save their properties with the hope of later concessions in church matters. The certain ruin of the royal cause was the worst thing that could[Pg 104] happen, for from the Parliament nothing but evil was to be expected. Some, says Rinuccini, ‘audaciously declare that the Catholic interest could not fail to prosper under the government of a nobleman so warmly attached to the cause of Ireland as the Marquis of Ormonde; others are not ashamed to say that it is sufficient to perform the Catholic service in secret, provided it can be done in safety, and that to expect more than this from the King, restricted as he is at the present moment in his liberty, would be open injustice; and finally, that it is not lawful to contend with him in this cause. No one holds forth more loudly in favour of this doctrine than that priest Leyburn sent here six months ago by the Queen, and whose words almost amount to sedition.’ Leyburn’s mission was known and feared at Rome, where it was well understood that Henrietta Maria was willing to make peace ‘without one word concerning religion,’ and considered ‘the whole well-being of the Catholics to depend on peace with the Protestants.’ A still greater obstacle to peace on Rinuccini’s terms was the personal popularity of Ormonde, and the fact that the Council ‘were mostly relations, friends, clients, or dependants of his house.’[82]

A copy of the Glamorgan treaty came into Ormonde’s hands, and was shown to Digby, who was in Dublin before the end of November. Glamorgan himself reached the Irish capital on Christmas Eve, and on St. Stephen’s Day he was arrested at Digby’s instance, and closely confined to the Castle, ‘yet with needful attendance and accommodation,’ and not as Rinuccini heard, ‘without even a servant left to attend him.’ The prisoner being brought before the Council, Digby produced copies of the treaty, of the ‘pretended authority’ of March 12, 1644-5, and of the oath taken by Glamorgan. The King complained at this time that Ormonde had been long without writing, the fact probably being that he knew just enough to make him cautious and not enough[Pg 105] to enable him to advise. The fatal papers were read to the Irish Council, Digby declaring that the commission was either forged or obtained by fraud, or at the very least limited by other instructions. It was ‘destructive both to his regality and religion,’ and such as the King would never grant to save his Crown or life, or the lives of his wife and children. Next day Glamorgan was examined on interrogatories, framed so as to shield Charles while accumulating blame upon his agent. It was not sought to prove that he had forged the King’s commissions of January 12 and March 12, for probably both Ormonde and Digby knew in their hearts that they were genuine, though they had not seen them before the conclusion of the treaty. The fourth interrogatory was as follows: ‘Did your lordship grant, conclude, and agree, on the behalf of his Majesty, his heirs and successors ... that the Roman Catholic clergy of Ireland should and might from thenceforth for ever hold and enjoy all and every such lands, tenements, tithes, and hereditaments whatsoever by them respectively enjoyed within this kingdom, or by them possessed at any time since October 23, 1641, and all other such lands, tenements, tithes, and hereditaments belonging to the clergy within this kingdom, other than such as are now actually enjoyed by his Majesty’s Protestant clergy?’ In reply Glamorgan acknowledged the words of the treaty, while considering them ‘not obligatory to his Majesty.’ He was afterwards allowed to add the words ‘and yet without any just blemish of my honour, my honesty, or my conscience.’ At the end of four days Glamorgan was released from close imprisonment, but confined to the walls of the Castle for more than three weeks longer. In reporting to the King the Lord Lieutenant and Council confess that they were ‘stricken with most wonderful horror and astonishment to find so sacred a majesty so highly scandalled and dishonoured.’ And, said Ormonde for himself, ‘it is manifest that the retarding of the peace is no way on the part of me the Lieutenant, but ought rather to be attributed to that underhand dealing of the said Earl, whereby that party have been encouraged to hope for such concessions as they themselves had before receded from,[Pg 106] as wanting confidence to insist on matters so unreasonable.’ It was pointed out that Glamorgan had mis-recited the commission authorising Ormonde to treat for peace, that he had acknowledged Mountgarret’s ‘usurped style and title’ as Lord President of the Supreme Council, and that ‘he had strangely misinterpreted the facts of the case when he discerned the alacrity and cheerfulness of the said Catholics to embrace honourable conditions of peace.’ They had shown their loyalty by ‘entertaining a nuncio from the Pope,’ and at the same time negotiating with a messenger from the King of Spain, ‘and how comely it is that such treaty with foreigners should be held at the same time that they are in treaty with his Majesty’s commissioners we humbly submit to his Majesty’s high wisdom.’[83]

As soon as Charles heard of the proceedings in Dublin, he proceeded characteristically to repudiate Glamorgan, to whom, he said, he had given a commission to raise and employ troops, ‘and to that purpose only.’ All his other doings were without warrant, and ‘framed of his own head.’ For himself the King was quite ready to go to London and to confer with the two Houses on the basis of making no peace in Ireland without their consent. Failing such a conference, Ormonde was to make a treaty which would preserve the Irish Protestants and the Crown, without being derogatory to the King’s honour and public professions. With chivalrous loyalty, which cannot be too much commended, Glamorgan kept silence under this undeserved rebuke. He had already shown Ormonde the original and given him an attested copy of a document which was probably the patent of April 1, 1644, strictly charging him to keep it secret. It might be useful to the Lord Lieutenant for his ‘future warrantry to his Majesty,’ but publication would not be for the King’s service. Ormonde sent a copy of this paper to the King, describing it as ‘of an extraordinary nature and way of[Pg 107] penning,’ but expressing no doubts of its genuineness. The Supreme Council at Kilkenny said negotiations could not go on nor Chester be relieved until ‘a nobleman, so highly esteemed by the nation, and chosen general of that army by the unanimous vote of the Confederate Catholics, were released.’ To Ormonde Charles averred ‘on the word of a Christian’ that he never intended Glamorgan to do anything without his approbation. A prosecution of the Earl was necessary to clear his Majesty’s honour, but he had been actuated by mistaken zeal. The King was quite satisfied with the Lord Lieutenant, and begged him not to sentence Glamorgan, unless he found it too dangerous not to do so. Glamorgan was liberated after nearly a month’s detention, but bound to appear within thirty days after summons, bail being given for 40,000l., half on his own part and half on that of the Earls of Clanricarde and Kildare. Both the sureties had houses in Dame Street, where service was declared good. Glamorgan went back to Kilkenny, entering the town late ‘to avoid the vanity’ of popular demonstrations in his favour, and Rinuccini was rather sorry to see him, because his return removed one obstacle to the conclusion of peace. The interest of Rome was to continue the war, and the nuncio pleaded hard for delay, at least until the articles came to which the Pope had agreed.[84]

In the spring of 1645 Henrietta Maria sent Sir Kenelm Digby to Rome. The choice of this fantastic genius was not a happy one, and the cool-headed Italians soon found that he was not a serious diplomatist. He could show no authority from the King, and that derived from an exiled Queen, who was hated in England and not much loved in Ireland, hardly afforded security enough. He received an order for 20,000 Roman crowns to be laid out in munitions of war, and carried with him articles to which he undertook to get the royal consent. He left Rome in December for[Pg 108] Paris, where he was to see the Queen. After that he proposed to visit the King in England and the nuncio in Ireland. He was at Nantes at the end of January and on the point of sailing for Ireland, but returned to Paris instead, whence he made his way back to Rome a few months later. ‘Let him say what he will,’ wrote Bonaventure Barron to Wadding, ‘this is certainly true that excepting going to mass, the Queen has no other religion than the Lord Jermyn’s, and that both are all agreeing in this, that while there is any hope of relieving the King by a Protestant, a Catholic shall never be admitted to his succour, and while they think the Scots can do it, the Irish shall never be admitted to a communication in the work, much less to any good conditions for our nation, which is equally hated by the King, Parliament, Scots, Queen, and Jermyn.’ This was written in May, after Charles had left Oxford on that sad journey which ended in the Scotch camp, but the learned Franciscan was well informed, and had perhaps seen some of the letters received by the Queen. In January the King had told his wife that Ireland ‘must at all times be sacrificed to save the crown of England, Montreuil assuring me that France, rather than fail, will assist me in satisfying the Scots’ arrears.’ His later letters to her are in the same spirit, and with some reason from his own point of view, he declares the Irish wanting in generosity. Colepepper about the same time pronounced Ireland to be a broken reed, and the same simile was applied at Rome to the heretics upon whom King and Queen alike were disposed to lean.[85]

A copy of the articles agreed to with Digby was sent to Rinuccini early in November 1645, and reached him in due course. This paper was unsigned, and differed in some[Pg 109] respects from the formally authenticated version entrusted to Sir Kenelm himself, but the main points were the same. Seven articles applied to Ireland, and by them the King was required to grant the free and public exercise of the Roman Catholic religion, and to restore the hierarchy, with all churches and church property. The abbey lands ‘pretended’ to have been confirmed to lay grantees by Cardinal Pole were to be left to a free Parliament, and so were the bishoprics in the King’s hands. All penal laws passed since ‘the defection of Henry VIII.’ were to be first abrogated by the King and then repealed by a free Irish Parliament, ‘independent of that of England.’ The viceroy and all the chief placeholders were to be Catholics, and all towns, including Dublin, to be placed in Catholic hands, and the King was to join his forces with those of the Confederate Catholics so as to drive the Scots and the Parliamentarians out of Ireland. When the King had done these things, ‘and whatever else Monsignor Rinuccini may add to or alter in these articles,’ the Pope would give the Queen 100,000 Roman crowns. In England all penal laws were to be repealed and all disabilities removed, and the kingdom was to be invaded by 12,000 infantry under Irish chiefs, who were to be assisted by at least 2,500 English cavalry with Catholic officers. As soon as a landing and junction had been effected the Pope was to pay his money in twelve monthly instalments, a like sum to be paid in the second and third year if circumstances justified it. By an article added afterwards six months were given for the ratification of the Irish articles, and ten for the English, ‘after which his Holiness will not be bound by his present promise.’ Rinuccini received this document in February while the General Assembly was sitting at Kilkenny. Glamorgan, not without some wry faces and much to the disgust of his friends, at once agreed to abandon his own treaty and to adopt Sir Kenelm Digby’s. It was an excuse for delay that the original had not yet come to hand, and that was the nuncio’s main object. Glamorgan was reminded that he had exceeded his instructions, that he had talked at Dublin about what he had orders to keep secret, that he had spoken of[Pg 110] using an Irish army to force the King’s hand, and in short that he could only cast off his load of responsibility by submitting to the Pope. It was evident that he could do nothing by himself, and that his promises had melted into air, ‘Lord Digby having declared that the Protestants would rather throw the King out of window than permit his Majesty to confirm them.’ Speaking in the assembly Rinuccini said that Glamorgan’s treaty was worthless because its confirmation depended on the will of another, and that the Roman treaty was every way preferable. Both were really waste paper, and everyone at Kilkenny knew it except the clergy and the clericals. Ormonde reminded Glamorgan that the chief object of the peace was to relieve Chester, and that could not be done unless troops were sent at once. To this the poor man answered that the Queen’s powerful hand effaced the ‘clandestine hopes’ of his own endeavours. A burnt child, he said, dreads the fire, and he would most willingly leave treaty-making to the Lord Lieutenant, who could not as ‘a great and public minister of State and real Protestant’ appear publicly, but who might give a hint to his friends at Kilkenny to deal with the nuncio. For himself he proposed to raise 100,000l. in Catholic countries, which was impossible if the Pope were ‘irritated,’ or the nuncio ‘disgusted.’ Rinuccini, he added, had agreed to let 3000 men go at once for the relief of Chester, and he believed shipping could be readily had. When this was written Chester had fallen, and a rumour had reached Ormonde when he penned an answer in his best manner. ‘My Lord,’ he said, ‘my affections and interests are so tied to his Majesty’s cause that it were madness in me to disgust any man that hath power and inclination to relieve him, in the sad condition he is in, and therefore your Lordship may securely go on in the ways you have proposed to yourself to serve the King without fear of interruption from me, or so much as inquiring into the means you work by.’ For himself he had a commission to treat with the Confederates, and he intended to do so without venturing ‘upon any new negotiation foreign to the powers he had[Pg 111] received.’ In the meantime the proposed succours were likely to be too late.[86]

Glamorgan was not satisfied with abandoning as worthless the treaty which had cost him so much, he must needs swear fealty to the nuncio in terms such as perhaps no other English layman has ever used. ‘I swear,’ he wrote, ‘to obey all your commands readily without reluctance and with a joyful mind. I make this perpetual protestation on my bended knees to your most illustrious and reverend lordship, not only as the Pope’s minister but also as a remarkable personage, and as witnesses of the purity of my intentions I invoke the Blessed Virgin and all the Saints of Paradise.’ The result of this alliance was the consent of the Supreme Council to prolong the cessation till May 1, so as to give time for the arrival of Sir Kenelm Digby’s original articles. Neither Digby nor the documents ever reached Ireland, for the Queen did not choose that they should, and peace was concluded with Ormonde on March 28, on the understanding that the terms were not to be divulged until May 1, Rinuccini failing to get a further postponement. ‘I command you,’ Charles had written, ‘to conclude a peace with the Irish, whatever it cost; so that my Protestant subjects there may be secure, and my regal authority preserved. But for all this, you are to make the best bargain you can, and not to discover your enlargement of power till you needs must.’ This was early in 1645. Six months later, after Naseby, the King ‘absolutely and without reply,’ commanded Ormonde to make the peace, with the consent of his Council if possible, but to make it anyhow. The contracting parties were Ormonde alone on the King’s part and the following commissioners for the Confederate Catholics: Ormonde’s uncle, Viscount Mountgarret, and his brother-in-law, Viscount Muskerry, Sir Robert Talbot, Tyrconnel’s eldest brother;[Pg 112] Colonel Dermot O’Brien; Patrick Darcy of Plattin; Geoffrey Brown and John Dillon, two lawyers who were designated as future judges. The conditions of a peace which was no peace might seem hardly worth dwelling on, but that they mark clearly the furthest point to which Charles would openly, if not altogether willingly, go in his dealings with the Irish Roman Catholics. A few weeks after the peace was signed, and before it was published, he ceased to be a free agent, and the desperate expedients of a prisoner scarcely count. The articles occupy twenty-two printed pages, but the principal points may be clearly brought out in a short abstract.

1. The oath of supremacy to be abolished, so far as concerns Roman Catholics, in the next Irish Parliament; and an oath of allegiance substituted. All statutory penalties and disabilities to be repealed by the same Act. ‘That his Majesty’s said Roman Catholic subjects be referred to his Majesty’s gracious favour and further concessions.’

2. An Irish Parliament to be held before November 30, when all the articles were to be performed by law, the King undertaking to make no alterations under Poynings’ Act.

3. All legal acts done against Roman Catholics since August 7, 1641, to be vacated. Debts to remain as they stood before the outbreak.

6. Titles to land to be confirmed under the graces of 1628.

7. All educational disabilities affecting Roman Catholics to be removed.

8. All offices, civil and military, to be open to Roman Catholics.

9. The Court of Wards to be abolished on payment of 12,000l.

10, 11. Peers without estates in Ireland to have no votes. Irish Parliament to be as independent as it ever had been.

12. Titles to land to be decided by law and not by the Council.

13. Acts in restraint of trade to be repealed.

14. Viceroys to hold for a limited term of years and not to acquire estates.

15. An Act of oblivion for all offences civil and criminal[Pg 113] since October 23, 1641, with some exceptions to be hereafter specified.

16. Officials and judges to have no interest in the revenue.

17. Monopolies abolished.

18. To regulate the court of Castle-chamber.

19. ‘That two Acts lately passed in this kingdom, prohibiting the ploughing with horses by the tail, and the other prohibiting the burning of oats in the straw, be repealed.’

20. Breakers of the cessation or of this peace to be punished.

21, 22. Simplification of legal remedies.

23, 24. Quit-rents increased by Strafford to be reduced again.

25. Commissioners named to raise and transport to England 10,000 men for the King’s service, and to collect overdue taxes.

26, 27. Commissioners named to appoint to judicial offices until Parliament meets, but without power to decide questions of title, and no other judges to have power within the Confederate quarters.

28. The status quo as to garrisons.

29. Further details as to taxation.

30. The judicial commissioners to have jurisdiction in every case, including murder, arising since September 15, 1643.[87]

These articles when duly executed were placed in Clanricarde’s hands, to be kept secret until such time after May 1 as Ormonde might choose for their publication. Before that day the Parliamentary fleets had begun their summer cruises and the sea was entirely at their mercy. Chester having fallen, it was almost out of the question to land men in Wales.[Pg 114] Six thousand of the promised troops were ready, and orders were given for levying the remainder, but shipping could not be provided, and there was no money either at Dublin or Kilkenny. The attempt to put down the English people with Irish troops failed as it had failed in the days of Strafford, and as it was destined to fail in the days of Tyrconnel. In the meantime Lord Digby found a plan of his own for bringing the Prince of Wales to Ireland and rallying round him there all the forces opposed to the Parliament. Rinuccini dreaded the success of this scheme, but it was not he who prevented it. Digby sailed with two small frigates and 300 men to Scilly, where the Prince remained from March 4 to April 16, but did not get there till after the latter date. ‘The men of the island,’ wrote Plunket to Ormonde, ‘put themselves in arms and loudly cried that no Irish rebels should land there, the Lord Digby thereupon parted thence with one frigate, and one hundred of the men to Guernsey or Jersey.’ The other frigate with the remaining men returned to Waterford. According to Daniel O’Neill, the King’s principal secretary was ‘drunk nine days out of ten with white wine’ during the preparation of his little expedition, which may have had something to do with its being late. The Confederates depended on Glamorgan’s treaty for relief to their religion further than that promised by Ormonde. It was true that both sets of articles depended really upon the King’s word and upon his ability to keep it, but as professed Royalists they could not reject the first nor assume the permanent absence of the second. Rinuccini, who had no duties except to the Church, very rightly held that Charles’s word was worth nothing, and it was evident to him that if the royal power was destroyed in England it could not long survive in Ireland without foreign help. The King had justified the nuncio’s opinion by repudiating Glamorgan, and when this was known at Kilkenny he lost all credit, ‘with the merchants in particular, so that he really had not enough to live upon.’ He spoke to the French agent Dumoulin about leading the troops intended for England into Louis XIV.’s service, but there was no chance of that being allowed. The nunci[Pg 115]o’s position was strengthened by a royal letter to Ormonde written from Newcastle under Scotch influence. ‘We think fit,’ the King said, ‘to require you to proceed no further in treaty with the rebels nor to engage us upon conditions with them after sight hereof’; the alleged motive being anxiety for the safety of the Irish Protestants. This came to Ormonde’s hands three months after the signature of the Dublin peace. A very few days later Digby returned from France, where a letter had been received from the King in which he declared that he was no longer free, and that Ormonde was to proceed as before. Digby accordingly publicly declared the Newcastle letter to be a forgery or written under duress. This satisfied the Council, and the peace was proclaimed in Dublin on July 30. On August 3 the Supreme Council at Kilkenny followed suit. ‘We require,’ they wrote, ‘the above proclamation to be printed, and do order and require the same to be published, and due obedience to be given thereunto by all the Confederate Catholics of Ireland.’[88]

Barnabas O’Brien, sixth Earl of Thomond, had endeavoured to stand neutral during the early years of the war, and to live quietly in Clare. As a Protestant his natural leaning was to Ormonde, who could not protect him; and in October 1644 the Kilkenny assembly, treating neutrals as enemies, ordered his tenants to pay no rent, and took steps to sequestrate his vast estates for the benefit of the Confederacy. Finding his position intolerable, Thomond surrendered Bunratty to the Parliament in March 1646, and soon went himself to England. A Parliamentary fleet under Penn lay in the Shannon, and there was no difficulty about putting a garrison of 700 men under Colonel MacAdam into Bunratty Castle, which lies upon the estuary of the Ogarney river. It is now the most melancholy of ruins; but Rinuccini, who beheld it in its days of grandeur, thought it the finest thing he had ever seen, and Bellings’s description bears him[Pg 116] out. ‘It is,’ he says, ‘a noble structure, reputed strong when engines of battery were not so frequent, and before time and experience had brought the art of taking in places to perfection. On the south it hath the river of the Shannon, distant from it about a mile of marsh and meadow ground. On the east it is washed by the river which falling to the Shannon at the end of a goodly plain, ebbs and flows with it. To the north at some distance from the castle it is environed with an eminent ridge of earth, which bounds a goodly park, save that it wanted the ornament of timber trees; it was then stored with the largest deer in the kingdom.’ Glamorgan, who was now entirely in the nuncio’s hands, went to Limerick and busied himself about preparations for the recovery of Bunratty; but the garrison were at first successful. A party of Irish, consisting of 120 horse and 300 foot, came from Sixmilebridge and burned a few houses, but were routed by a sally and lost eighty men, their commander, Captain Magrath, and his lieutenant, being taken prisoners. In the afternoon of the same day the victors, amounting to fifty horse and 600 foot, went to Sixmilebridge and attacked the Irish camp. About 1400 men were strongly entrenched there, but were driven out and took to the woods. A few were slain, but a more important success was the capture of 250 barrels of meal, which supplied the garrison of Bunratty with bread for six weeks. Next day they went as far as Ballyquin, where the Irish had first encamped, burned a large store of corn, and returned with some plunder to Bunratty. Magrath and his subaltern both died of their wounds and were buried with military honours.

It was not till the middle of May that the Irish began to press the siege by taking the outlying castles of Cappagh and Rossmanagher. The works of Bunratty itself were strengthened by the labour and skill of the sailors, but it became difficult to supply the garrison with food and ammunition. The besiegers encamped in the park, where the underwood supplied material for gabions and fascines, and ate the deer, which they roasted with the dry wood of the palings. Muskerry arrived at the end of the month, and after that the[Pg 117] siege became closer. Letters were received from Broghill, but no relief came. Rinuccini came to Limerick about the middle of May, where he had the satisfaction of superintending the rejoicings for Benburb, but he found that the siege of Bunratty was likely to be raised for want of money to pay the soldiers. There were frequent sallies from the garrison, but nothing decisive on either side. The nuncio went himself to the camp at the end of June with all that remained of the Pope’s money, to which he added some of his own, and the attack was after that pressed with more vigour. Colonel MacAdam was killed by a stray round shot which came in at a window, and his loss proved fatal to the defence. Eighteen bags of money and some of Thomond’s plate had been guarded by the commandant; but this treasure was now divided among themselves by the officers who found it, in spite of Penn’s remonstrances. When Muskerry’s men succeeded in getting heavy guns down to the shore where the action of the defenders was weak, ships could no longer lie near, and want of provisions soon became felt. On July 14 the garrison capitulated, and were carried off in Penn’s boats. Rinuccini was satisfied that his presence and assistance during the siege would cause ‘the people to recognise it as an apostolic undertaking,’ and a Te Deum was sung in the cathedral, where ten captured colours were displayed.[89]

While Rinuccini was at Limerick, and before Bunratty was taken, O’Neill gained his great victory at Benburb. The tidings were peculiarly grateful to the nuncio, in that success was entirely due to the Ulster Irish, and in no sense to the Supreme Council or to any who favoured Ormonde’s peace. And, moreover, the efficiency of O’Neill’s army was mainly due to the Pope’s money, brought over and distributed by Rinuccini himself.

In the early summer of 1646 the Confederacy was so weakened by internal dissensions that Monro thought it possible to take Kilkenny. It was arranged that Sir Robert[Pg 118] Stewart’s army should enter Connaught while he engaged O’Neill. In the event of both attacks being successful, he could then march southwards without any great probability of meeting an enemy that could stop him. He had 3400 foot ‘effective under arms,’ with eleven troops of horse and six field pieces. Campbell of Auchinbreck was left in command at Carrickfergus. The general’s nephew, Colonel George Monro, was to join him at Glaslough in Monaghan, bringing 240 musketeers and three troops of horse from Coleraine. Monro left the neighbourhood of Belfast on June 2, and spent the night of the 3rd at or near Dromore. On the following morning he detached a troop of horse, under Daniel Monro, with orders to cross the Blackwater at Benburb and meet his namesake at Dungannon. At Armagh Daniel learned from a prisoner that O’Neill was concentrating his forces at Benburb, and the fear lest George Monro should be cut off probably accounts for the Scottish general’s subsequent proceedings. The army spent the night of the 4th at Hamilton’s Bawn, and in the morning Monro went through Armagh to view the bridges and ford at Benburb. Both are commanded by high rocks crowned by Shane O’Neill’s castle, and it was impossible to attempt the passage in front of the Irish army. Monro then marched to Caledon, where he crossed the Blackwater, doubled back on the left bank, and faced the enemy late in the afternoon. After the long march it would have been prudent to halt till the morning; and, moreover, sun and wind were in the eyes of the Scots, but they were overconfident of victory. ‘All our army,’ says Monro, ‘foot and horse, did earnestly covet fighting, which was impossible for me to gainstand without being reproached of cowardice.’ Sir James Turner, however, declared that his greatest fault as a general was a tendency to underrate his enemy. O’Neill had with him about 5000 men, including 500 horse, ‘such as they were,’ and took up a position on hilly ground to the west of Benburb. He detached the greater portion of his mounted men to intercept George Monro, but they scarcely did more than neutralise that skilful leader. The two armies met at Drumflugh, between the Oona brook and Benburb. O’Neill[Pg 119] made a short speech to his men, reminding them that they were the ancient inhabitants of Ulster, professing the same faith as those who first brought Christianity into Ireland. ‘You have arms in your hands,’ he said, ‘you are as numerous as they are; and now try your valour and your strength on those that have banished you and now resolve to destroy you bud and branch. So let your manhood be seen by your push of pike; and I will engage, if you do so, by God’s assistance and the intercession of His blessed mother and all the holy saints in heaven, that the day will be your own. Your word is Sancta Maria; and so, in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, advance, and give not fire till you are within picket-length.’[90]

The battle did not begin till about six in the evening, by which time the sun was well in the eyes of the Scots. The wind was also against them, and there were clouds of dust and smoke. Monro’s guns were placed on high ground, but they did little damage, the round shot going over the heads of O’Neill’s men as they descended into the plain, which was full of bushes and scrubby timber. Monro’s front was too narrow, and there were no proper intervals for his rear divisions to come out in front. So learned a general might have remembered something about the Roman maniples. Overcrowding resulted in confusion, and this was increased by a squadron of his own cavalry, ‘consisting,’ as he says, ‘for the most part of Irish riders, although under the English command, who did not charge, but retreated disorderly through our foot, making the enemies’ horse for to follow them at least one squadron.’ He thought they were at least half traitors. The foot fought on bravely till sunset, when they[Pg 120] broke and fled. The majority sought the neighbouring ford of the Blackwater, where Battleford Bridge now is, and the slaughter there was frightful. Sir Phelim O’Neill, who commanded the horse, specially charged his men to take no prisoners and to give no quarter. Others fled towards Caledon, and many of them were drowned in Knocknacloy Lake. Of those who crossed the river a large number were killed in passing through the county of Armagh. Most of the horse escaped with Monro, who acknowledges a loss of 500 or 600 men; but the Irish accounts say that from 3000 to 4000 bodies were counted. A long train of carts followed the army, so that many camp-followers were probably killed, and the truth is likely to be somewhere between the two extremes. The Irish slain were under forty, and the wounded under 250. George Monro got back to Coleraine without the loss of a man. Monro’s wig, cloak, sword, and cap fell into the victor’s hands with thirty-two colours and the standard of the cavalry. Even those who escaped for the most part threw away their arms, which enabled O’Neill to enrol fresh men. Lord Blayney, who commanded the artillery, was killed, all his guns being taken. Lord Montgomery of Ardes, who led the cavalry during the battle, was taken prisoner with about twenty other officers. Monro’s army was not annihilated, but it was to a great extent disarmed, and ceased to be an aggressive force. Over-confidence was certainly one main cause of his defeat. ‘The Lord of Hosts,’ he says himself, ‘had a controversy with us to rub shame on our faces, as on other armies, till once we shall be humbled; for a greater confidence did I never see.’ The ‘British Officer’ agrees that this was the chief cause of disaster; also mentioning the sun and wind and the long march, and that the soldiers, who had had little rest or refreshment since leaving Lisburn, stood to their arms for at least five hours. Another reason, he adds, is ‘that the Irish pikes were longer by a foot or two than the Scottish pikes, and far better to pierce, being four square and small, and the other pikes broad-headed, which are the worst in the world. Withal to my knowledge, the soldiers, I mean some that[Pg 121] were not strong in the British army for his pike on a windy day, would cut off a foot, and some two, of their pikes—which is a damned thing to be suffered.’[91]

Military authorities are agreed that the general who wins a great victory ought to pursue his beaten enemy to the uttermost. One reason why O’Neill did not do this may have been that he was afraid of Sir Robert Stewart falling upon Tyrone in his absence; but he was a man of few words, and it does not appear that he ever said as much. He raised new regiments, which he armed with the spoils of victory, and waited for orders from Kilkenny. Want of money was no doubt a cause of delay. His appearance at Augher caused Stewart to retire towards Londonderry, and O’Neill lay inactive, first at Tanderagee and then at Loughanlea in Cavan. Four days after the battle he sent Boetius MacEgan, an eminent Franciscan, to Limerick with a letter to Rinuccini, who was quite certain that a miracle had taken place. The Jesuit O’Hartegan, who had returned from France, followed with the captured colours, which were carried in procession through Limerick to the cathedral. The people filled the streets and windows, the Te Deum was sung by the nuncio’s choir, and high mass afterwards by the Dean of Fermo in the presence of four bishops and of the civic magistrates. When the news reached Rome, Innocent X. attended at Santa Maria Maggiore and heard a Te Deum sung there also. Rinuccini was sure that if he had only money enough he could make the greater part of Ireland obedient to the Pope. All his letters declare that money would do almost everything[Pg 122] in Ireland; but it was a scarce commodity, and without it even the clergy could not ‘keep the soldiers quiet and united.’ The nuncio had still a little left, and he despatched Dean Massari to Ulster, who gave three rials to each soldier and larger sums to the officers. The donative was small, but it tended to foster the notion that it was the nuncio’s war, and that little regard need be paid to the viceroy or to the Council at Kilkenny, where Anglo-Irish influences were in the ascendant.

Preston had also been successful in Connaught, but the capture of Roscommon, though important, paled before the glories of Benburb. Neither general was in a condition to attack Sligo. Preston had no ammunition for a siege, no means of drawing his guns over the Curlew hills, and no money to pay his men. Even the sums promised—for they had not arrived at the end of July—were not enough to last for a week on active service. The country was so wasted that everyone would have to carry a month’s provisions with him, and this could only be had for ready money. Ormonde urged Preston to reduce Connaught before the summer season slipped away, but admitted that little help in money for the Leinster army could be expected from Leinster. Both Preston and O’Neill offered Rinuccini to march on Dublin, looking no doubt to him for the means; but he refused because Dumoulin, the French agent, was there, lest the Pope might be embroiled with the Most Christian King. The part of that province which bordered on Ulster was overrun by O’Neill’s men, who plundered all classes and creeds impartially, so that they appeared as conquerors rather than allies. Ormonde attributed it ‘to the necessities imposed on General O’Neill for want of means to go on or to keep his men in better order where he is.’[92]

Want of money and ill-feeling between the native and Anglo-Irish notables prevented the greatest of Irish victories from having any permanent results. Rinuccini left the Supreme Council at Limerick under the impression that he would not[Pg 123] object further to Ormonde’s peace, but he continued to counter-mine it while they despatched Muskerry, who would have been more useful in Munster, to be present at the proclamation in Dublin. Arriving at Waterford at the beginning of August, the nuncio summoned the clergy to meet him there in order to take steps for constituting a national synod. When he had got them together, they immediately fell to debate the peace; and this had, no doubt, been his real object. Scarampi, who had not yet sailed, was authorised to write letters urging the municipalities of Limerick, Cashel, Clonmel, Kilkenny, Galway, Wexford, and New Ross not to allow the peace to be published. In the meantime, Ulster King-at-Arms had arrived at Waterford with orders from Ormonde to proclaim the peace there. The mayor and aldermen refused him permission on various grounds. They had already been warned by the previous appearance of a pursuivant, who had to give a little boy sixpence to show him the way to the mayor’s house, and who declared that there were ‘by imagination about a thousand priests and friars gazing’ upon him and Ulster when they had succeeded in getting an interview with the corporation. After two days they were allowed to go in peace to Kilkenny, not without covert threats of violence if their departure were longer delayed. Scarampi’s letters were written before they left Waterford, though the attitude of the civic authorities was nominally due to the fact that proclamation had not been first made at Kilkenny and by order of the Supreme Council. Waterford was preferred on the ground that it was the most ancient city of Ireland after Dublin; but perhaps Ormonde hoped that his herald would create dissension enough to break up the clerical assembly.[93]

The Supreme Council at Kilkenny transmitted the original articles of the peace to Waterford by the hands of Nicholas Plunket and Patrick Darcy. The nuncio had not seen them before, though he was, of course, well acquainted with their[Pg 124] substance. After several days’ debate it was decided ‘that all and singular the Confederate Catholics, who shall adhere to such a peace, or consent to the fautors thereof, or otherwise embrace the same, be held absolutely perjured: especially for this cause, that in these articles there is no mention made of the Catholic religion, and the security thereof, nor any care had for conservation of the privileges of the country as is found promised in the oath [of association]; but rather all things are referred to the will of the most serene King, from whom in his present state nothing certain can be had.’ In the meantime everything remained subject to the authority of Protestant officials, ‘to free ourselves from which we took that oath.’ And it was plainly hinted that excommunication would follow in due course. The document was signed by the nuncio himself, by two archbishops, ten bishops, and many vicars-general and heads of religious houses. It professes to be absolutely unanimous; but Archbishop Bourke of Tuam, Bishop Dease of Meath, and the Franciscan Peter Walsh, whose stormy career in Ireland now begins, did not sign, though they took part in the debates and were among those to whom the question was referred. On the same day the peace was proclaimed at Kilkenny ‘in the presence of the mayor and the magistrates only, the people not choosing to appear,’ according to Rinuccini, who says the Supreme Council terrorised the city with soldiers. At Callan, Fethard, and Cashel proclamation was made in spite of clerical opposition, but there was no popular enthusiasm. The corporation of Clonmel declared that they would do as Waterford had done. The town had received supplies of arms from the nuncio and was subservient to the clergy, though some of the more prudent inhabitants would have complied. The most the herald could obtain was a promise to reopen the question after proclamation had been made at Limerick.[94]

The proclamation at Kilkenny was an open declaration of war with the nuncio, who immediately sent Dean Massari[Pg 125] to Rome to explain that both clergy and people were against the peace, and that its few supporters could do no harm. Meanwhile, Ulster went on his way to Limerick. Arriving after the gates were shut, he was refused admittance, and had to pass the night in an old house outside. Next day he was received by Sir John Bourke, the mayor, and at first it seemed that all would go smoothly; but the civic authorities went on arguing the question till the following day was well advanced, and time was thus given for a formidable agitation to grow. James Wolfe, a Dominican friar, harangued a mob in the streets, and declared that all who adhered to the peace would incur the penalties of excommunication. The chief citizens assembled at the mayor’s house, where Dr. Walter Lynch, warden of the Galway college, employed his eloquence in the same cause. A third priest ‘carried a great crucifix through the streets on the top of a pole.’ The mayor, nevertheless, favoured the proclamation and tried to protect the herald while doing his office, but stones flew like hail, and his house was wrecked. He was himself knocked down and nearly murdered, while Ulster was hunted from the room, the friars calling out in Irish, ‘Kill, kill! I will absolve you.’ He received two serious wounds on the head and one in the hand, while his body was covered with cuts and bruises. Dr. Thomas Arthur, a famous physician, who had succeeded twenty years before in curing Archbishop Ussher of a disease which had puzzled the London faculty, did what he could to pacify his co-religionists and to save the herald’s life at the risk of his own. Appeals to the law of nations which protects heralds were fruitless, and the more moderate citizens were forced to carry Roberts to gaol for safety and to give out that he was dead. He and his companions were detained for ten days, when Rinuccini said they might be discharged. Bourke was deposed from the mayoralty, and Thomas Fanning, a leader of the rioters, was installed in his room. The new mayor received the nuncio’s thanks and apostolical benediction for his good conduct in the matter.[95]

[Pg 126]

While the Congregation at Waterford were fulminating their censures against all who adhered to the peace with Ormonde, the Protestant clergy who had taken refuge in Dublin were congratulating him on having ‘preserved not only in this city, but also in all the out-garrisons, the free and full exercise of the true reformed religion.’ They besought him to continue in this way as the only means to make Ireland obedient to the King, and to provide them with some maintenance until they could return to their benefices. ‘If any of our number,’ they concluded, ‘be found disaffected to the religion, book of service, public worship, government of the Church, his Majesty’s service, or disturbers of the present peace, we do not supplicate for such, but leave them to your lordship to be proceeded with as you shall find convenient.’ This was signed by eleven archbishops and bishops and by seventy-seven other clergymen, many of whom afterwards rose high in the Church. Ormonde’s loyalty to the Church of England was incompatible with Rinuccini’s views; but it did not prevent the Council at Kilkenny from inviting the King’s representative to his own town and castle. He left Dublin on August 28 and reached Kilkenny on the 31st, where he was received with triumphal arches and many demonstrations of joy; and even succeeded in collecting some of his long-lost rents. Ormonde left 1500 foot at Gowran, under Sir Francis Willoughby, and took 500 horse on with him, whom he quartered about Bennetsbridge. In passing Naas he took the precaution of borrowing eight barrels of powder from Sir John Sherlock, the governor, and they proved very useful. Digby and Clanricarde accompanied him to Kilkenny. His previous negotiations with Preston led him to believe that that general would keep the victorious Ulster army at a distance. Ormonde’s last act before leaving Dublin was to send Daniel O’Neill to his uncle, Owen Roe, with power to make him great offers if he would adhere to the peace. These included the custody of all lands in O’Neill-land belonging to men who questioned the King’s authority and of all Lord Caulfield’s estate, and confirmation in his command. These were promises, while the nuncio was[Pg 127] able to give hard cash, without which an army could not be moved—4000l. at first out of the Pope’s money, and 5000l. later from the contributions of the faithful, or by means of an advance from the Spanish agent.[96]

After staying a few days at Kilkenny, Ormonde went to his other house at Carrick, so that he might be near Waterford and in a position to confer with the clergy; but they were past the reach of argument. Rinuccini issued a decree ordering them all to denounce the peace publicly and to threaten actual excommunication by himself of all who favoured it. He had seen, he said, ‘with grief of heart that the Protestant ministers in some places appear, and threaten that they will recover both the churches and the exercise of their religion.’ Finding that nothing could be done on the Waterford side, Ormonde set out for Cashel, intending to encourage those who had proclaimed the peace there; but he was met on the road by a messenger from the mayor begging him not to draw down upon the town the vengeance of O’Neill, who was already at Roscrea. Piers MacThomas Fitzgerald, with the Munster horse, ‘appeared upon a hill to the left hand, near Clonmel.’ Preston had been summoned to attend, but he pleaded ill-health, and a few days later declared that, though he distrusted the Ulster army, he had ‘received a positive inhibition from the clergy that neither myself nor any of my commanders, upon pain of excommunication, shall obey any orders from my Lord lieutenant.’ The position of Ireland could scarcely be better described than in this letter of Preston’s. The Confederates had all along professed loyalty to the Crown, and had never denied that Ormonde was the King’s representative. But when it came to a trial of strength between the viceroy and the papal nuncio, it was the latter that they were forced to obey.[97]

Castlehaven was sent to sound the clergy at Waterford,[Pg 128] but he found them impracticable, rejoined Ormonde near Cashel, and persuaded him to get back to Dublin as quickly as possible, lest he should be intercepted and captured. Castlehaven argued that the clerical party was getting stronger every day, ‘and that the Supreme Council were dissolved on the proclamation of peace, and consequently of no authority to make good the public faith.’ Other advices were to the same effect, and it seemed probable that O’Neill’s object was to get between the viceroy and his capital. Castlehaven tried in vain to gain over MacThomas, who followed Ormonde as far as Callan, but without coming to blows. Orders were sent to Willoughby to seize the fortified pass over the Barrow at Leighlin Bridge with his infantry. Colonel Walter Bagenal, who was in command there, offered no opposition, and Ormonde joined the main body at Kilcullen. He had sent Castlehaven and his brother-in-law, Sir George Hamilton, to the corporation of Kilkenny, offering to stand by them if they wished it and would adhere to the peace, but they begged him to pass on his way. The mob plundered his baggage, and the very men, says Bellings, ‘who a fortnight before had employed both cost and invention in erecting statues and triumphal arches adorned with inscriptions, setting forth his own actions, and the trophies of his ancestors, were suddenly as busy in pulling them down, and defacing the monuments of his solemn entry, lest the northern army, which could have easily mastered, might be incensed to their destruction.’ Willoughby, when expecting an attack, found that the bulk of his powder, which had been given in part payment of 30,000l. by the Confederates at the first cessation, was so bad as to be quite useless, and but for the eight barrels lately borrowed from Sir John Sherlock he would have been in no condition to fight.[98]

Digby remained at Kilkenny and made one more effort for the King. He proposed that the nuncio and three or four bishops should give an undertaking in writing[Pg 129] to support the peace and unite with Ormonde against the common enemy, on condition of receiving a firm private assurance that the penal laws should be repealed and that they should not be disturbed in their church possessions until a meeting of a new Parliament to carry out the articles. Rinuccini would hear of nothing less than Glamorgan’s treaty fortified by part of Sir Kenelm Digby’s. Of the latter he never received the official text, and his instructions were not to proceed without it. He entered Kilkenny in triumph and took the city into his protection, relieving it from the interdict which Roth, Bishop of Ossory, had proclaimed. O’Neill’s army encamped in the immediate neighbourhood and made all resistance impossible. Rinuccini then proceeded to imprison the old Supreme Council. Mountgarret’s eldest son Edmond, Bellings the secretary and historian, and Lord Muskerry, the viceroy’s brother-in-law, were among those confined in the castle. Geoffrey Brown, who had been conspicuous among the commissioners for concluding the peace, and was intended to be a judge, was arrested at Galway, but the citizens refused to send him to the nuncio. O’Neill and Preston both entered Kilkenny, and assisted ‘the lord nuncio and congregation of the clergy’ in choosing a new council of seventeen members. Four were bishops, Walsh of Cashel, Bourke of Clonfert, Macmahon of Clogher, and French of Ferns; among the others were Glamorgan, who was appointed general of Munster in Muskerry’s place, Owen Roe O’Neill, Preston, and Sir Phelim O’Neill. The great object was now to take Dublin, and Ormonde was told that he had no chance of defending himself against 17,000 foot and 1700 horse. If the city was taken by assault it was likely that neither man, woman, nor child would be spared, but this might be averted if Ormonde would adhere to the Glamorgan treaty. ‘If,’ was the Lord-Lieutenant’s answer, ‘I could have assured the clergy my lord of Glamorgan’s conditions, I had not retired hither. They are things I have nothing to do with, nor will have. If they be valid in themselves, they need no corroboration; if invalid, I[Pg 130] have no power to give them strength.’ After this Rinuccini concluded that if he wanted Dublin he would have to get it taken, while Ormonde, who felt his weakness, opened communications with the English Parliament.[99]

Rinuccini wished O’Neill to attack Dublin before Ormonde could return thither; but the Ulster general excused himself on the ground that he had no artillery, and came to Kilkenny instead. Benburb had been fought and won by men who were defending a strong position in their own country, and the means for a serious siege were wanting. An officer who was with the northern army near Birr described it as consisting of 5000 infantry, of which rather more than half were pretty well armed, ‘the rest as the rabble used to be in the beginning of the distractions.’ The horse were under 400, good and bad, and there were only five field-pieces ‘of about a foot and a half long.’ When O’Neill was at Kilkenny a month later Ormonde learned that his army was composed of 8000 foot, more than half of them without muskets, and seventeen or eighteen small troops of miserable horse ‘whereof not above two armed with pistol, and none with defensive arms.’ About 8000 ‘of the Ulster families, unarmed,’ accompanied the troops. Preston’s cavalry were well appointed, but it was estimated that the combined armies could not in any case exceed 13,000, with five pieces of artillery and very few stores of any kind. The two generals acted quite independently. O’Neill took all the castles and towns in Queen’s County, and made himself master of Athlone. Preston temporised, and both were much more intent upon outwitting each other than upon taking Dublin. The Leinster people did not like to see the hungry northerns devouring their province, and they flocked to Preston’s standard, so that he became as least as strong as his rival. Early in October Rinuccini went to Kilkea, then in the possession of Robert Nugent, provincial of the Jesuits, to whom it had been granted for the use of the Society by his[Pg 131] kinswoman Elizabeth Countess of Kildare. Nugent lent 1500l. to the nuncio, and voluntarily undertook the task of victualling the army; but this clerical commissary was not more successful than a clerical general proved to be later on. ‘The good man,’ says Bellings, ‘how perfect soever his mathematical demonstrations might have been, failed in the practice, which affords a thousand circumstances that commonly lie out of the road of divinity and speculation.’ The two armies were together, though not united, in the neighbourhood of Kilcock, whence they advanced by Harristown and Naas to Lucan, within seven miles of Dublin. The Leinster men thought O’Neill’s object was to conquer them, while he believed, or perhaps only professed to believe, that Preston was conspiring with Ormonde to place him between two fires. Successful joint action under these circumstances was impossible, and it appeared to the nuncio that ‘arms at first devoted to religion were about to minister to private passions alone.’ The two generals met at Lucan, but could not agree, and Rinuccini joined them there in hopes of at least preventing a collision between Leinster and Ulster.[100]

‘Besides the hatred of the generals,’ Digby wrote from the midst of Rinuccini’s partisans, ‘their men have a greater animosity one against another, than those at Dublin have against either.’ But for this the capital might probably have been taken, for the defences were very weak, ammunition was scarce, and famine was always in sight. The fortifications were, however, repaired as well as possible, the ladies, with the Marchioness of Ormonde at their head, setting an example to the citizens by carrying baskets of earth. Ormonde had destroyed the bridges over the Liffey, and the mills, so that the Irish had great difficulties about food. Negotiations were opened by the Lord[Pg 132] Lieutenant with the Ulster Scots, but they ended in nothing, for the survivors of Benburb were too few and too much discouraged to play an active part. Colonel George Monro, whose Royalist proclivities were doubtless known to Ormonde, apologised for his enforced inactivity. The Lord Lieutenant suggested that 500 Scots should come to Dublin, but the officers did not see their way to go so far south, though they were willing to act as a garrison for Drogheda. The Lord Lieutenant was not likely to accept such an offer, for Drogheda was in no danger. Negotiations had also been opened with the Parliament, whose fleet lay out in the bay. Sir Francis Willoughby, Sir Gerald Lowther, Chief Baron, and Sir Paul Davis, clerk of the Council, sailed on Michaelmas Day, and reached London a fortnight later. They were heard by a committee of the Commons, and five commissioners, of whom Sir John Clotworthy was one, reached Dublin on November 12 with power to treat for its surrender. The negotiations lasted for ten days, failing at last mainly because Ormonde would not deliver up the sword of state without actual orders from the King, and thus dissolve the remnant of the Irish Parliament on which the Protestants relied. The other points upon which the Lord Lieutenant insisted and the commissioners failed to satisfy him, were that they could give him no assurance for their estates ‘to the Papists who adhered to his Majesty’s Government since October 22, 1641’; that the Covenant should not be pressed, nor the Book of Common Prayer suppressed; and that official vested interests should be preserved. Ormonde was perhaps less anxious to come to terms because the mere appearance of the commissioners had averted the danger of a siege, and because he had been allowed to procure powder from the Parliamentary ships. The supplies intended for Dublin were carried by Clotworthy and his colleagues to Ulster.[101]

The conduct of Preston throughout the whole of these[Pg 133] proceedings showed the weakness of the Confederate position as well as of his own character. First he gave Ormonde to understand that he would prevent O’Neill from marching southwards, and then he let the nuncio persuade him to join forces with the northern general in the attempt to intercept Ormonde and in threatening Dublin. On August 26 he wrote to invite the Lord Lieutenant’s commands as to the disposition of troops to prevent O’Neill from entering Leinster. On September 5 he excused himself from personal attendance. On the 17th he lamented that clerical threats of excommunication prevented him from obeying any of the Lord Lieutenant’s orders. On October 10 he found that the peace published in his camp and by his authority was ‘destructive to my religion and liberty of the nation,’ and contrary to his oath as a Confederate. On the 21st he swore solemnly to aid O’Neill in attacking Dublin, to ‘use and exercise all acts of hostility against the Lord Marquis of Ormonde and his party,’ and to damage him in every possible way. Digby, who was a sanguine man, thought it possible to kidnap O’Neill and Rinuccini and carry them to Dublin, and to spike Preston’s guns, and he was also inclined to believe that something might be done with that vacillating general. Ormonde was less hopeful, but his patience was inexhaustible, and he resolved to make another effort, and Preston took care to let him know privately that he was not really irreconcilable, and would not join O’Neill, and that if he captured towns or castles it was only to prevent the Ulster general from getting them. Clanricarde was sent for from Portumna, and came to Luttrellstown, where he was in a position to communicate with all parties.[102]

Preston never really co-operated with O’Neill, but he joined him in making certain proposals to Ormonde in which the nuncio’s hand can be very clearly seen. The first was that the Roman Catholic religion should be exercised in every part of Ireland as in Paris or Brussels. The third was ‘that[Pg 134] Dublin, Drogheda, Trim, Newry, Carlow, Carlingford, and all the garrisons within the Protestant quarters be garrisoned by the Confederate Catholics.’ They were to be held for the King, but only in name. ‘The madness of their propositions to you,’ Digby wrote to Ormonde after he had joined Clanricarde, ‘makes him almost despair of doing any good with Preston.’ Ormonde did not condescend to discuss the propositions at all, but contented himself with asking who composed the Council of the Confederates and by whose authority they were established. ‘These questions,’ says Bellings, pithily, ‘were too knotty to be resolved on the sudden, and therefore, as it is the custom in such cases, they were not answered.’ Four days later Clanricarde was at Tecroghan, near Trim, and at once opened communications with Preston. Safe-conducts were granted to him and Digby, but to the latter, who was still nominally Secretary of State, not without great difficulty. ‘I conjure you,’ said Ormonde, ‘(as you expect to serve our master, or his hereafter) not to venture any more among so faithless a generation, if you have any probable hope of getting away from thence. For, if I have any judgment, your coming will be fruitless.’ And fruitless it was. Two days later the Parliamentary commissioners reached Dublin, and O’Neill, probably fearing to be caught in a trap, threw an extempore bridge over the Liffey at Leixlip, collected his men by firing a gun, and passed them all over to the left bank. It was thought that Sir Phelim O’Neill, who was jealous of Owen Roe’s supremacy in Ulster and who had married Preston’s daughter, might be induced to join the latter. Digby’s plan was to make Clanricarde general, who would thus be in a position to make the best terms for his own Church, while loyally co-operating with the Lord Lieutenant. Preston and his friends bound themselves most solemnly to embrace the peace in consideration of such additional securities as Clanricarde undertook to procure. These included the repeal of the penal laws and enjoyment by Catholics of such churches and ecclesiastical possessions as they held at the conclusion of the peace, until a settlement by a free Irish Parliament, ‘his Majesty being in a free con[Pg 135]dition himself.’ To confirm these promises Clanricarde was to procure an engagement under the King’s hand as well as from the Queen and Prince of Wales and the French crown. The peace once concluded on these terms the Catholics were to be ‘forthwith invested in such commands by his Majesty’s authority, both in field and garrison, as may pass for a very sufficient part of the security.’ Ormonde was no party to this treaty, which could not be performed without his help, and he was not anxious for it after he had got rid both of O’Neill and the Parliamentary commissioners. Rinuccini’s influence was at work all the time, and it was insisted that the first thing should be the admission of a Prestonian garrison into Dublin. Ormonde insisted on the original peace being first accepted, and so the negotiations fell through. Digby thought that if Preston had been promptly dealt with he would have attacked O’Neill, but his judgment is not for a moment to be set against Ormonde’s. Preston was satisfied, and in a letter to the mayor and citizens of Kilkenny, urged the acceptance of Clanricarde’s terms. What the ultimate position of the Protestants would have been may be judged from this document. ‘We have,’ he said, ‘by the divine Providence, wrought the splendour of religion to that extension as from Bunratty to Dublin there is Catholic religion publicly professed and exercised, and from Waterford to the lower parts of Tyrone, and confined heresy in this province to Dublin, Drogheda, Dundalk, and Trim, these places which in four days will be garrisoned by my army, by God’s help; and then think you in what posture of religion these parts are in, for us and ours, having all penal laws against Catholics repealed; all in our own hands, churches and church livings secured till the King in a free Parliament declare the same for us; the government in the Catholics’ hands; petitions of right allowed the parties grieved; and, to make this good, our arms in our own hands.’ This was written under the impression that Dublin would soon be in his hands, though in the same letter he admits that he could not take it even with O’Neill’s help. Rinuccini and his council had already left the camp, and Preston’s officers were soon induced to break[Pg 136] with Clanricarde on the ground that no concessions would be of any use without a garrison in Dublin. ‘That being denied did beget a desperation of future performances.’[103]

The nuncio, says Bellings, entered Kilkenny, ‘very incognito in his single litter without guards or attendance, and the council and congregation dropped in one after another without pomp or ceremony.’ The tide had turned, and the odium which so often attaches to authority in Ireland, especially when it fails to make itself feared, was borne by the clerical party. Rinuccini, yielding very unwillingly to Nicholas Plunket and fearing lest the mob should do it without his leave, allowed the old council to be liberated, and devoted his attention to the elections for the next general assembly. All over the country the clergy administered oaths to candidates binding them to reject the peace. Absolution for other sins was denied to those who refuse to take such an oath, and O’Neill’s soldiers were everywhere called in to enforce the clerical decrees. The vacant places in the Ulster returns were filled up from the creaghts or nomad herdsmen whom Owen Roe had planted in the Queen’s County—‘nay,’ says Bellings, ‘with such an overcharge of supernumeraries, as for some boroughs three have been returned and actually voted.’ When the session began, the verification of these returns proved to be impossible, and after much wrangling the assembled members turned as they were to other business, ‘and all formalities, how necessary soever, were quite omitted.’ In the meantime Preston had again gone over to the nuncio. On December 10 Walter Bagenal wrote by his orders to Ormonde, pressing him to advance at once so as to join forces against the northern army, all the nobility and gentry being ready to support him. ‘If you fail or delay,’ Bagenal concluded, ‘you ruin us all and yourself in us.’ On the same day that this was written, Preston made his submission to[Pg 137] the nuncio, who had threatened excommunication. Ormonde advanced to the neighbourhood of Gowran, which was to be the place of meeting. He found reason to believe that there was another plot to cut him off. A letter from Preston to Clanricarde was brought to him at Grangebeg in which the general said that ‘his officers not being excommunication-proof, were fallen from him to the nuncio’s party.’ On first receiving this Clanricarde had so far forgotten his usual serenity as to call Preston traitor. It was followed by a similar letter to Ormonde, and by an abject declaration of obedience to the nuncio’s commands. Ormonde professed to believe that the letter, which was printed and circulated, was ‘a forgery, as also the reports raised that some of your army are gathered in a body at Castle Dermot, with intent to intercept my return, or destroy the remainder of my quarters.’ He withdrew into Westmeath and Longford, where there was still some country undevastated by O’Neill, and where he maintained good discipline among his men. Dublin was relieved for a short time without distressing the country, and the Westmeath gentry actually scraped together a voluntary contribution of 1000l. At Kells an attack was made upon some of Ormonde’s men by a party of O’Neill’s soldiers. Ormonde says two officers were barbarously murdered. Bellings admits that a very bad impression was made, but O’Neill was hardly a party to the negotiations. After conferring with the Lord Lieutenant, Clanricarde went to Kilkenny in the vain hope that he might to some extent counteract the nuncio and induce the assembly to embrace moderate ideas. Ormonde soon found it necessary to reopen communications with the English Parliament.[104]

The Confederate assembly met at Kilkenny on January 10, ‘with all those signs,’ said Rinuccini, ‘of discord and intrigues which generally reign in such meetings.’ The tempers of the old council had not been improved by imprisonment, while the clergy, knowing that they had a majority, were in no[Pg 138] conciliatory mood. Bellings admits that former assemblies had been turbulent ‘and loud in their ayes and noes, yet now it was grown clean another thing.’ Edmond Dempsy, Bishop of Leighlin, who was a famous preacher, and had probably a good voice, sat upon a lofty bench which recalls the revolutionary Mountain. He had only to wave his hat to raise a storm, the mass of members, ‘like a set of organ-pipes, as senseless and louder, depending for their squeaking, or being still, on the hand of another.’ After a few days the turmoil partially subsided, and then the nuncio demanded an audience. He was received with the same ceremony as at first, and proceeded to justify his assumption of dictatorial power. He declared in plain terms that the ecclesiastical authority was superior to the temporal, ‘and that ignorance of the true source of power had ruined the neighbouring kingdom.’ Above all things he urged the assembly to reject the peace with Ormonde, and to take a fresh oath adverse to it. A letter was read from Dumoulin, the French agent, who had positive orders from his government to press for confirmation of the peace, but this had no effect, though a letter from Mazarin had been previously received urging them to merit help from France by re-establishing the King of England. A remarkable speech of Walter Bagenal’s has been preserved by Bellings, in which he urged them to remember how strong England was and how certainly they would be overwhelmed if they did not support the King. Ormonde sent Lord Taaffe and Colonel John Barry to represent him at Kilkenny, but the clericals would listen to nothing, and it soon became evident that the peace would be rejected publicly. This was done after three weeks’ wrangling, but by no means unanimously, and Scarampi started at once to carry the news to Rome. It was found necessary at the same time to declare that the commissioners and others who had a hand in the peace had ‘faithfully and sincerely carried and demeaned themselves in their said negotiation pursuant and according to the trust reposed in them, and given thereof a due acceptable account to this assembly.’ This important matter being settled, a new and stringent oath of association was taken by which[Pg 139] all bound themselves to make no peace without the consent of the General Assembly. One of the conditions precedent was that the Roman Catholic clergy should enjoy all churches and church property in as ample a manner as the Protestants enjoyed them on October 1, 1641, in all places which the Confederates should at any time possess ‘saving the rights of Roman Catholic laymen according to the laws of this kingdom.’ The law, in other words, was to protect Roman Catholics, but not Protestants. All this referred to the secular clergy only, for the question of abbey-lands was too dangerous to touch. To avoid the appearance of an open breach with the Lord Lieutenant, Dr. Fennell and Geoffrey Baron, who had just returned from France, were deputed to see him. Their proposals for a sort of offensive and defensive alliance with Ormonde came to nothing, but successive truces were patched up until April 10.[105]

[Pg 140]

CHAPTER XXVIII

SURRENDER OF DUBLIN AND AFTER, 1647

Rinuccini’s attempt on Dublin had completely failed, but Ormonde’s position there was nevertheless made worse. The two armies had descended like locusts upon the districts from which he had drawn his chief supplies. Excise could no longer be levied, and the citizens were reduced to penury for the support of the garrison, and yet the soldiers were half paid and half fed. As soon as it became evident that the Kilkenny assembly would reject the peace Ormonde offered to surrender the sword and his garrisons to the Parliament on the terms lately offered by their representatives. The despatch was long delayed upon the road, but the Parliamentary commissioners in Ulster at once agreed to the terms proposed. English or Anglo-Irish soldiers who had hitherto obeyed Ormonde found no difficulty in following where he led. Sir Henry Tichborne was continued as governor of Drogheda, and ‘embraced it with cheerfulness.’ In the meantime George Leyburn, whose diplomatic name was Winter Grant, visited Ireland for the second time with powers from Henrietta Maria and the Prince of Wales ‘to renew,’ in Ormonde’s words, ‘motions of peace or accommodation.’ He was a learned English priest, educated chiefly at Douai, and one of the Queen’s chaplains since 1630. He had been for a time in the Tower, and knew Monck, whose future greatness he foretold. Leyburn was sent to Dublin, but was driven by wind to Waterford, and found that the assembly at Kilkenny had just broken up. He had letters for the nuncio and clergy, but was forbidden by his instructions to deliver them until after showing them and all his other papers to Ormonde. The Queen would have made peace on almost any terms,[Pg 141] but the clerical party at Kilkenny maintained their position. Dr. Fennell and Geoffrey Brown, who were despatched to Kilkenny, would not commit themselves so far as to make proposals in writing, nor even sign what Ormonde took down from their mouths. He asked for a continuation of the truce, but this was refused, and on April 10, the day on which it ended, Preston invested Carlow, which resisted only for a few days. Still Ormonde professed himself willing to delay the reception of Parliamentary troops in consideration of a truce, but to this no answer was given. Both parties were anxious to have the credit of making the last peaceful overture, the Confederates because they were alarmed at Inchiquin’s progress, Ormonde in order to make it clear that he did not close with Parliament till the last possible moment.[106]

At Kilkenny Leyburn attended the council, where his chair was placed next to Antrim’s, who presided. He told them that the Queen and Prince were anxious for peace, without which the Catholic religion would be ruined, but that he must see Ormonde first of all. Horses were provided and he was passed on to Dublin. The Lord Lieutenant, says Leyburn, expressed himself ready to cast away one son if necessary for the King’s service, but would ‘give up those places under his command rather to the English rebels than the Irish rebels, of which opinion he thought every good Englishman was. To this I answered nothing.’ It took the inexperienced diplomatist two days to decipher his instructions, which he then presented to Ormonde, who requested him to go back to Kilkenny and obtain a truce for three weeks from April 17 if possible, without binding him not to receive fresh Parliamentary forces during its continuance. Leyburn consulted the French agents Dumoulin, De la Monnerie, and Tallon, according to his instructions, but he found the Council sanguine about the probable successes of their army, and they refused any truce for less than six months. There were already two thousand Parliamentarians in Dublin, and Leyburn did not think it prudent to re-enter the city; but he[Pg 142] was in constant communication with Digby, who had found quarters in Sir Nicholas White’s house at Leixlip, and who professed to know Ormonde’s mind. Leyburn accompanied Bishop Macmahon to Kilkenny, and informed the nuncio that the conditions of peace concerning religion had been referred to France, and that Ormonde would not treat except on the basis of the peace which the clergy had already rejected. Rinuccini said he wished for peace, but was against a preliminary truce, which Ormonde, who had already once deceived him, wanted only to gain time, and that he could not trust him. ‘I could see,’ says Leyburn, ‘he was not my Lord Lieutenant’s friend.... I found in him great animosity to my Lord of Ormonde’s person, my Lord of Clogher being a better hider of his thoughts.’ The Council of the Confederates as well as the clergy came to Clonmel about the beginning of June, and Daniel O’Neill brought a proposal from his uncle to establish a sort of joint government between the Lord Lieutenant and the Council; but he was arrested for not having a pass. Leyburn handed in the paper for him, but all these delays had been fatal, for a letter came to Digby to say that the Parliamentary commissioners had landed at Dublin with 1500 men, and that Ormonde would now be forced to conclude matters with them. Leyburn could come to no terms with the clergy, who would have nothing to say to the rejected peace, while Ormonde would treat on no other basis. They said God was not once mentioned in it, and he could only reply that questions of religion might be settled later. He continued to discuss matters with Digby and his secretary, Edward Walsingham, who, according to Nicholas, was ‘a great babbler of all his most secret employments,’ but it all led to nothing. Leyburn, however, persuaded Clanricarde not to leave Ireland, which he had made up his mind to do. In the end the best he could do for Digby was to procure him a safe-conduct through the Confederate quarters, and he escaped to France with some difficulty. At his earnest request Leyburn himself remained in Ireland, and was sheltered by Clanricarde at Galway from August 1647 until the following March. In November he received a letter of recall[Pg 143] from the Queen dated three months back, and in February another from Digby to the like effect. He sailed in the same ship with Glamorgan and his wife, who had now become Lord and Lady Worcester, and reached Havre in five days.[107]

Leyburn, who was a very honest as well as intelligent man, favoured the peace of 1646. The demand for a Catholic governor, he says, was one which the King could not grant, and the objection to Ormonde’s religion was therefore invalid. He thought the divisions of Irish parties made effective action hopeless, and that the hatred of the Leinster men to O’Neill and the old Irish ‘overbalanced their reason.’ The cause of the rebellion and of its savage character was that the ‘Irish had not enjoyed such a pleasant bondage under the English, but that they had contracted ill will enough against their masters ... they ran hastily and furiously to all kind of bloody executions, and as their rebellion was without order so were their actions without measure, none that was called English and was within reach escaping their fury ... they either killed the English or forced them to forsake their habitations.’ The men of the Pale joined in because they had no arms, and were not trusted by the Government. The massacres had been amply revenged with much cruelty, the one committed ‘by a rude, headless multitude, the other by soldiers under order and command.’ Insurgent slaves, he says, seldom make good soldiers, and the Irish were always beaten until Charles drew away to England the army which had been ‘with his consent employed against them by the Parliament,’ which is perhaps the strongest argument against the cessation of 1643.

‘The marquis,’ says Clarendon ‘in his defence of Ormonde, believed it much more prudent, and agreeable to the trust reposed in him, to deposit the King’s interest and right of the Crown in the hands of the Lords and Commons of England, who still made great professions of duty and subjection to his Majesty, and from whom (how rebellious soever their present actions were) it must probably revert to the Crown,[Pg 144] by treaty or otherwise, in a short time, than to trust it with the Irish, from whom less than a very chargeable war would never recover it, in what state soever the affairs of England should be; and how lasting and bloody and costly that war might prove, by the intermeddling and pretences of foreign princes, was not hard to conclude.’ To the Lord Lieutenant Ireland was essentially part of the same State as England, and the King being temporarily in abeyance, the actual wielders of power were trustees for the Crown. Parliamentary troops began to be received in Dublin at the end of March, and on June 7 the new commissioners arrived. At their head was Arthur Annesley, son of Strafford’s Mountnorris, and afterwards well known as Earl of Anglesey. Other forces followed, and arrangements were soon made. Ormonde sailed from Dublin on July 28, having left the sword of state in the hands of the Parliamentary commissioners. ‘He was,’ says Carte, ‘attended by the prayers of the distressed clergy, great numbers of whom, with their wives and children, had been kept from perishing through want by his and his lady’s bounty, and landed on August 2 at Bristol.’ Colonel Michael Jones became governor of Dublin for the Parliament. His father, the Bishop of Killaloe, had died there just nine months before.[108]

Lord Digby’s schemes were always unsuccessful, but he continued plotting to the last moment. After a meeting at Leixlip with Bellings, Sir Robert Talbot, and others of the Confederates who were more or less opposed to Rinuccini, Digby urged Ormonde not to leave Ireland after delivering the sword, but to go to Rathfarnham or some other country where his presence would be a protection to the well-affected. He might raise a force and transport it to France with Muskerry’s help, who was absolute in Munster. In this way he would avoid all appearance of joining with the English Parliament. Ormonde received this strange proposal only[Pg 145] five days before he sailed. He replied that Preston and the rest who refused his help while he still possessed an army and fortresses would not be much impressed by his arguments in a private capacity, that the Parliament commanded the seas, and that the very worst way to get their leave to transport troops was to put himself into the power of the Confederates. For himself, he could always go from England to France, but to go from France to England would be virtually impossible. True to the policy which had prevailed since Strafford’s time, the dominant party in England refused to allow troops to be sent from Ireland into the service of any foreign prince. It was evident that they might be used against England if France or Spain were to espouse the King’s cause. Yet it is probable that unrestrained foreign enlistment would have gone far to settle the Irish question, and might have made Cromwell’s terrible campaign unnecessary.[109]

At the beginning of 1647 Clanricarde reported that Glamorgan was despised and dejected, and Ormonde said it mattered little what became of him or of Antrim ‘if it were not for a natural propension in this people to love their cozeners.’ But the Kilkenny assembly had made Glamorgan general of Munster, and an effort was required to make the appointment a reality. He told the King that he had been forced to undergo a seeming commission which should put him at the head of 12,000 foot and 2500 horse, but that his enemies never rested and that he had small hope of success. Rinuccini and his council moved to Clonmel at the beginning of June, and for a moment it seemed as if they were going to have their own way. Glamorgan, though not much of a soldier, had had some experience in raising troops, but in Munster he did little, finding it easier to multiply officers under the King’s commission of January 6, 1644-5, so that later on it was difficult to ‘dissolve even this airy structure, and to proportion the officers to the men the province was able to contain.’ Rinuccini, with the help of these new colonels and captains, thought he could establish clerical supremacy[Pg 146] in Munster and displace all who adhered to Ormonde’s peace. Of these last Muskerry was by far the most important, for he had the confidence of the soldiers, and the nuncio had been unable to exclude him from the council. But his life was thought to be in danger, for three Dominican chaplains suggested that it would be no harm to murder him or the Munster commissioners. This kind of casuistry, as Rinuccini saw, ‘made the impression to be expected on these idiots.’ Muskerry came to Clonmel and took his seat amongst the hostile clericals, but feared a second arrest, and escaped to the camp. He found the old officers friendly and afraid of being superseded by Glamorgan’s creatures. Moreover they professed themselves excommunication-proof, and declared that they were ready to live and die with Muskerry. The men were then mustered, and it was explained to them that their pay would be diverted to the new officers, for that the province could not bear both. They gladly followed suit, joyfully repeating Muskerry’s name with cheers and casting up of hats. ‘And thus,’ says Bellings, ‘was the army, in the space of one hour, without noise, save what witnessed their public satisfaction, placed under his command.’ Their resolution proved irrevocable, and though the nuncio himself might be respected, his adherents could not venture into the camp. Rinuccini therefore went to Galway, and the Council returned to Kilkenny.’[110]

While Ormonde was making his arrangements with Annesley and Jones, Preston was at Monasterevan collecting an army with which he hoped to neutralise the Parliamentarians in Dublin. Digby still struggled to make this force available for the King’s service, and his secretary Walsingham wrote from Monasterevan that he had been cherished and received as an angel of peace. When mustered a few days later on the Curragh of Kildare, Preston’s army amounted to 7000 foot and 1200 horse, well officered and well appointed.[Pg 147] Leyburn says the foot were ‘as lusty appearing men, and as well accoutred with arms and clothes as ever I did see,’ and the horse up to the average. Jones, with a much inferior force, advanced to Naas, while Preston encamped on the left bank of the Liffey not far off. Jones drew back to Johnstown, and then detached some cavalry to go round by the south of Naas and intercept some of Preston’s men. Leyburn had warned the latter of the danger he incurred from the superiority of the English horse, but there was a moment when they might have been annihilated between Naas and Johnstown, and Bellings himself remonstrated with the sluggish general, but it was then too late, and Jones was allowed to rally all his men in safety on a hill near Kill, whence they reached Dublin without further fighting. Preston’s next encampment was at the Boyne close to Trim. Walsingham came there by appointment, but found that the political wind had changed, and that the general had changed with it as usual. The presence of Bishop French was probably fatal to any negotiation, and the unfortunate private secretary returned to Dublin. Trim was held by an English garrison, and Preston wished to take, while Jones was anxious to relieve it. Hearing that the Ulster Protestants had come as far as Dundalk on their way to join Jones, but that they would be obliged to retire in ten days for want of provisions, Preston withdrew to an unassailable position at Portlester, where he intended to remain until the invasion was passed. But Bishop French and Sir Nicholas Plunket advised him to take active measures lest his own supplies should run short. Jones, who in Bellings’s words ‘fought but for bread and elbow-room about Dublin,’ could not have kept the field long, and Preston, by taking the advice of a priest and a lawyer on a military question, lost the advantage of dividing his enemy’s forces and perhaps beating them in detail. Sir Henry Tichborne and others came to Skreen with nearly 2000 men and two guns, and the united forces marched through Trim. Jones mustered his army at the famous hill of Tara, and found himself almost equal in strength to Preston, and rather superior in horse, of which he despatched 500 under Major Harman to reconnoitre at[Pg 148] Portlester, but they lost their way. Preston left his almost impregnable position and marched to Agher, south of Trim, where he again took up strong ground. But news came from Leixlip that there were only 500 soldiers in Dublin, and the Irish general, as rash as he was generally supine, decided to make a dash for the capital through Maynooth, which had already ‘by especial Providence’ voluntarily surrendered to Jones. Preston left Agher on August 8, Harman with his troopers hanging upon his skirts, and causing as much delay as possible.[111]

The wheel of a waggon which came off at a ford delayed Preston’s march, and the bulk of the enemy’s cavalry gradually drew up to Harman’s support, while their whole army was visible in the distance. Jones was upon Lynch’s Knock or Summerhill, and Preston upon Dungan Hill, after which the battle is generally named. It was evident that Maynooth would never be reached without fighting, and Preston prepared for battle in what he thought was a good position. Without any preliminary cannonade the Parliamentary army advanced across the interval between the two hills. The Irish horse were routed at the first charge, having been posted in a narrow lane with high quickset hedges and without power of forming line to the front. Perhaps the real cause of their misfortune was that they were commanded by Lord Costello instead of by their well-tried leader MacThomas Fitzgerald. Costello knew nothing of war, but he was a recent convert, and that seems to have been thought sufficient. A large part of the infantry stood in some very tall wheat, where they were useless. Battalions were separated from each other by high banks, and no manœuvring was possible. The best fight was made by four hundred Scotch Islanders under a Glengarry, but most of them were killed. The bulk of the infantry took refuge in a bog, where they were first surrounded, and then ‘our foot,’ says Jones, ‘followed into the bog, where they put to the sword all not admitted to quarter; such of the rebels as left the bog fell into the power[Pg 149] of our horse.’ There is the usual dispute as to whether men were slain after quarter given or not. Bellings says ‘most of the officers and some soldiers repaired to the red colours, and to preserve them Colonel Flower commanded his regiment to stand to their arms in a body; and having brought them to Colonel Jones, they had quarter.’ Jones’s own account tallies pretty well with this, for he says ninety-five commissioned officers were taken prisoners, and only about 300 non-commissioned officers and men. Five thousand four hundred and seventy bodies were counted on the field, and many stragglers were afterwards killed by the troopers. No mercy was shown to any English, nor to such of the Anglo-Irish as had changed sides. Jones thought scarcely 500 of the infantry escaped. The English lost three officers, of whom one, Captain Gibbs, really died of drinking ditch-water when heated. The total number killed was under twenty. Four twelve-pounders with sixty-four draught oxen, and what was even more important, Preston’s papers fell into the victor’s hands. All the colours were taken, which Jones ‘could not be persuaded to be brought into Dublin in triumph, as savouring (said he) of ostentation, and attributing unto men the glory of this great work due to the Lord only,’ but there was a public thanksgiving in all the city churches.[112]

The House of Commons voted 1000l. each to Jones and to Fenwick, who commanded at Trim, 500l. to Colonel Conway, 200l., to Tichborne, who commanded the rear guard, and 100l. to Colonel Culme, who brought the letter. They also talked about sending provisions, but these were long delayed. One thousand five hundred pounds borrowed on personal security was looked upon as a god-send. Preston retired to Carlow, giving up Naas and other places in Kildare, and busied himself in collecting another army. In the meantime[Pg 150] Inchiquin had become formidable in Munster. Early in May 1647 he took Cappoquin, where there was no powder to fire a shot, and Dromana, where the garrison only fired four or five. Inchiquin had studied these places, and in 1642 had pointed out how easy it would be to take Dromana and how troublesome to take Dungarvan. The latter did in fact make a stout resistance, but Inchiquin made himself master of the water-supply, which soon settled the matter. All the garrisons were allowed to march out with military honours, ‘but some twenty Englishmen of the red-coats that had run to the rebels were hanged.’ Three thousand cows and two thousand sheep were cut out from under the walls of Waterford. Dungarvan, being a seaport, completed Inchiquin’s chain of posts from Kinsale to the mouth of the Suir, and its loss was much felt by the Confederates. The victor has a bad name, but many grumbled at his comparative lenity. Rinuccini attributed these disasters to general dissension among high and low, and to the non-payment of the soldiers. About midsummer Inchiquin invaded the county Limerick, and destroyed many castles, forced the passage of the Mulkear at or near Barrington’s Bridge, and plundered the country up to the Shannon. A party crossed where O’Brien’s Bridge had once stood, and the terrified Irish of Clare burned Bunratty, which had been so troublesome to take. Inchiquin then returned to Cork to rest his troops, who were ‘generally barefooted and extreme naked,’ but scarcely hungry after driving homewards 8000 cows and 5000 sheep. In the meantime Colonel Byron, starting from the new base at Dungarvan and Cappoquin, took Castle Grace in Tipperary, ‘put the rogues to the sword,’ entered Limerick and stormed Adare ‘where four friars were burned and three took prisoners.’ Byron’s party also drove off between two and three thousand cattle. Seven thousand pounds were voted to Inchiquin by Parliament about the same time, and Preston’s defeat at Dungan Hill greatly increased his relative strength.[113]

[Pg 151]

In January 1646 the House of Commons resolved that the Government of Ireland should be vested in a single person of honour, and that there should be a fresh appointment every year. In April Philip Lord Lisle, who as Leicester’s son might be supposed to have some claim, was made Lord Lieutenant accordingly, with power to appoint officers for two regiments of foot and one of horse, and with the command of all troops raised and to be raised for the reduction of Ireland. The Parliament exercised the power of naming a chief governor, and perhaps that was the real object, for no attempt was made to provide him with the means of doing anything. Lisle lingered in England for a year, and arrived at Cork on March 9, 1647, George Monck being one of those who accompanied him. Sir Adam Loftus and Sir John Temple were sent as commissioners for the civil government of Munster, but Lisle’s appointment expired on April 15, and Inchiquin dissembled until then. Lisle lost no time in reporting that he was equally ready to return to England or to remain in Ireland if his commission were prolonged, but that he could do nothing to reduce the rebels without further supplies. Then Inchiquin, who had been expecting to be arrested, exhibited his own patent as Lord President under the Great Seal, declared Lisle a private person, and hinted at putting him under restraint if he interfered any further with the troops. Most of the officers sided with him in spite of all the efforts of Broghill, Loftus, and Temple. Lisle, finding himself powerless, proposed to sail with his baggage on Vice-Admiral Crowther’s ship, but here again he was foiled. Crowther said he would do nothing without the Lord President’s orders, which were not given until Lisle’s trunks had been searched, and in the end the late Lord Lieutenant was glad to get out of Ireland with his property and ten officers who refused to serve under Inchiquin. Among them was Monck, who soon returned to command all forces, both English and Scotch, in Ulster, except those in charge of Sir Charles Coote. Broghill, Loftus and Temple went with Lisle, Parliament having[Pg 152] in the meantime decided not to send a chief governor. The whole authority in Munster, both civil and military, remained in Inchiquin’s hands.[114]

When Ormonde left Ireland, Lord Taaffe, who had been and was to be his adherent, took the oath to the Confederacy. Muskerry, having got rid of Glamorgan, thought he could counteract Rinuccini most effectually by attending the Council regularly; and he handed over the command in Munster to Taaffe. The new general, who was perhaps not very sure of his troops, invaded the county of Cork, but avoided an encounter with Inchiquin, who disregarded him and made a dash into Tipperary, which had hitherto suffered little by the war, and where there were cows to be lifted and towns to be sacked. He reported the capture of twelve castles, of which Cahir was the most important. There were a hundred men in this strong place, which might have defied him if it had been bravely defended. One of his soldiers was wounded and taken in a plundering affray, and Colonel Hippesley, who had some skill in surgery, obtained access to him in the guise of a doctor. He used his opportunity to notice that there was a weak point in the courtyard wall, and that a timorous spirit prevailed among the garrison. The outer wall was carried by storm, and the castle surrendered on condition that the soldiers’ lives should be spared. The moral effect of this success was great, for it was supposed then, and it has often been said since, that Cahir held out for two months against Essex. It is true that that ill-starred favourite wasted several weeks in Munster, but his siege of Cahir lasted only three days. On September 4 Inchiquin came before Cashel, where there was a garrison of four hundred men. A panic was caused by the fate of Cahir, and the soldiers with a large part of the inhabitants took refuge on the famous rock, which was well supplied with water and surrounded by strong walls. Others wisely distrusted the[Pg 153] acropolis, and hid themselves in the woods and fields. Inchiquin offered to let the garrison march out with the honours of war, without any conditions for the clergy and citizens; but the officers bravely refused. The assailants had no cannon, but trusted to fire within the walls. One account says Inchiquin piled turf against the defences; another, that firebrands were thrown over the battlements. The fine September weather did the rest. The assailants swarmed in over the north wall, and a terrible carnage ensued. About a thousand of the besieged perished, some women being killed and others stripped. ‘Three of the secular clergy, the prior of the Dominicans, and one of our society (the Jesuits) fell in the performance of their sacred duties.’ A bishop who was present managed to hide himself, as did the mayor and some others; but no respect was paid to the church or even to the altar. According to the account most favourable to Inchiquin, he tried to stop the slaughter as soon as he reached the cathedral, but is said to have donned the archiepiscopal mitre, boasting that he was governor of Munster and archbishop of Cashel too. Ludlow says he ‘put 3000 to the sword, taking the priests even from under the altar: of such force is ambition when it seizes upon the minds of men.’ The soldiers sold the plunder, including the sacred vessels, to the people who flocked in from the neighbouring villages ‘as if to a fair.’ Pictures of saints were used as horse-cloths, and insults were offered to statues of the Virgin.[115]

Money was expected from Rome at the beginning of the year, but did not come for twelve months, during which Rinuccini’s influence waned; and to this delay he attributed the expulsion of Glamorgan, the action of Muskerry, and the defeat of Preston. Six thousand crowns would have[Pg 154] prevented it all. With eight thousand more O’Neill could have retaken Sligo, subdued Connaught, and ‘marched into Ulster to reduce the fort of Enniskillen, and to take possession of the Holy Place of St. Patrick’s Purgatory, now about one hundred years in the hands of the heretics.’ Having seen Ormonde safe out of Ireland, the nuncio himself withdrew to Galway, where his presence would still have some of the charm of novelty and where he might expect less resistance than at Kilkenny or Clonmel. But Clanricarde carefully avoided paying him any attention, and he was confronted with a new difficulty immediately after his arrival. A Jesuit named Cornelius Mahony, a native of Cork but living at Lisbon, published in 1645 what he called an ‘apologetic disputation,’ with an exhortation to his countrymen. He proves to his own satisfaction that the English Crown had no claims upon Ireland, having broken the conditions of Adrian’s bull, and urges the Irish to ‘elect a Catholic king, a vernacular or natural Irishman.’ ‘You have already,’ he says, ‘killed 150,000 enemies in these four or five years, as your very adversaries’ howling openly confess in their writings, and you do not deny. I think more heretic enemies have been killed: would that they had all been! It remains for you to slay all the other heretics, or expel them from the bounds of Ireland, lest they infect our Catholic country with their heresies and errors.’ A copy of this incendiary production reached Ireland from France, and others followed from Portugal. At Kilkenny the book was publicly burned, and close search was made at Galway. Rinuccini expressed no disapproval of its doctrines, and refused to punish John Bane, parish priest of Athlone, with whom a copy was found. He attributed the outcry against it to those who were in possession of ecclesiastical lands, and to those who hated O’Neill, the only possible ‘natural and vernacular’ hero who could be chosen king. The Portuguese kingdom had only lately been re-established, and Mahony argued that the Irish had just the same right to upset a heretic dynasty as the Portuguese had to drive out their Castilian oppressors. Nevertheless, King John condemned the book, and the pos[Pg 155]session of a copy was forbidden under grievous penalties. Peter Walsh preached nine sermons against it on five successive Sundays and holidays in St. Canice’s Cathedral, and had no difficulty in showing that loyalty to a Protestant king was an essential part of the Confederacy’s political creed.[116]

Rinuccini, though O’Neill was his only champion, came to hate him almost as much as he hated Ormonde. He even made excuses for Preston, whose intrigues with the latter might be explained by O’Neill’s ambition ‘under cover of religion.’ After Benburb, the northern general had increased his army without orders, and he thirsted for the plunder of Leinster. Monck took care that he should have no supplies from Eastern Ulster. ‘If I had not sent my confessor to dissuade him from so unjust a resolution,’ said the nuncio, ‘Kilkenny would have been sacked and much innocent blood shed.’ Wherever O’Neill went, the Ulster soldiers, ‘barbarous enough by nature, although good Catholics,’ spread terror and destruction around. The worst of it was that they called themselves the army of Pope and Church, and when they ‘perform any act of cruelty or robbery, the sufferers execrate his Holiness and me, and curse the clergy, whom they consider the patrons of this army.’ Two regiments harried the property of Mountgarret, who brought a crowd of women to the nuncio’s house, ‘where they made a dreadful uproar with howls and lamentations, thus giving it to be understood that I countenanced the cruelties perpetrated by the Ulster men.’ After the failure of the attack on Dublin, O’Neill was made general of Connaught, and devoted himself to the affairs of that province. He was at Boyle, preparing to march against Sligo, when the news of Dungan Hill reached him, with a pressing summons to enter Leinster again, so as to prevent Inchiquin from joining hands with Jones. Muskerry was a party to this, for he could see no[Pg 156] other means of safety; but O’Neill refused to move. The personal entreaties of Bishop Macmahon at last prevailed, but many of his officers, with Alexander MacDonnell at their head, refused to obey. Partly by persuasion and partly by turning his guns on the mutineers, the general pacified them for the time, and established his quarters at Castlejordan in Meath, until November 1647. He had then collected about 12,000 foot and 1500 horse, and with these he proceeded to make a famine round Dublin. Tichborne followed the northern army everywhere, and cut off many stragglers. The destroyers passed near the scene of Preston’s defeat to Dunboyne and Clonee, and all southern Meath was burned or spoiled. Turning northwards, they went almost to Balbriggan. Two hundred fires were counted at one time from St. Audoen’s steeple in Dublin. On the sixth day, between Ratoath and Garristown, Jones and Tichborne showed themselves; and the latter wished to fight, but was overruled, so that O’Neill returned to Castlejordan without having to strike a blow. He offered to quarter 4000 men in Munster, who were to spare the Confederates while galling Inchiquin’s partisans; but the provincials refused such help. Inchiquin’s methods of making war were not gentle, but there was some excuse for doubting whether the deliverers would be much better.[117]

Having access to a sea which their friends commanded, neither Jones nor Inchiquin were easy to assail. They could always retire into their coast towns and exist there somehow. Yet the Munster Protestants were in miserable state enough. ‘It would make your soul bleed,’ writes a resident in Cork to his cousin in England, ‘to see the poor common soldier march out with never a whole rag to his back, nor shoe to his foot, feeble and faint for want of what should suffice nature.’ The prospect of a battle was a relief, and ‘those that were sickish skipped for joy.’ Taaffe, says the author of the ‘Aphorismical Discovery,’ ‘was a well-spoken man of both[Pg 157] art and delivery, a fencer, a runner of a tilt, a brave, generous gamester, and an exceeding good potator in any liquor you please.’ He was a brave soldier, but more diplomatist than general. In the King’s interest, Digby had urged him to avoid a general action, but Fabian tactics require a Fabius, and probably he was forced to fight by the feeling which Inchiquin’s doings at Cashel had excited. At all events, he drew his forces together early in November, when Inchiquin concentrated his at Mallow, and went to look for him. Taaffe, with 7000 foot and 1200 horse, was strongly posted on the hill of Knocknanuss, about three miles to the eastward of Kanturk. A bog and stream ran along his front. Inchiquin with a much smaller force advanced to a place called Garryduff on November 12, where he received a letter from Taaffe, who declared that he was fighting in the King’s cause, and proposed a contest between 2000 foot a side, ‘more for recreation’ than for any serious military reason. Inchiquin retorted that Taaffe was not really preserving the King’s interest, and that he would wait till the morning before engaging in a battle for recreation. He sheltered his army in a wood for the night, and when the first light disclosed Taaffe’s position, suggested in his turn that he should descend from his hill, cross the stream, and fight ‘upon a very fair piece of ground.’ Taaffe answered verbally that he was soldier enough to improve the advantage that he had. He refused to abandon his position, but did what was nearly as bad by shifting his men in sight of the enemy and finally posting them so that the bend of the hill hid his two wings from one another. The right, under Alexander MacDonnell, consisted of Scots islanders and Ulstermen, the Munster troops being on the left, where Taaffe himself stood. Inchiquin began the attack with his artillery, but the Highlanders, having fired a volley, threw away their muskets and rushed sword-in-hand upon the guns, of which they retained possession for an hour. Inchiquin’s left was driven back towards Mallow, but on the right he was completely victorious. Rupert’s faults were not his, and he did not pursue, but turned back to look after his defeated wing. The Highlanders[Pg 158] and Purcell’s horse, believing the battle won, were scattered all over the country, and made no effective resistance. Half of Taaffe’s army were slain, the remainder flying to Liscarroll and Newmarket; while Inchiquin lost only about 150 men. ‘We were killing till night,’ he says; and few prisoners were made, except among the officers. The arms of 6000 men strewed the field, and Taaffe’s commission from the Confederates as general of Munster was taken with his baggage. Bellings had heard that Alexander Macdonnell was killed by an officer in cold blood, after quarter given; but the English accounts give no hint of this; and Rinuccini says distinctly that he refused quarter. The result of the battle was to place all Munster at Inchiquin’s discretion, except Limerick, Waterford, Clonmel, and Kilmallock. He received the thanks of Parliament, and 1000l. were voted to buy horses.[118]

The General Assembly of the Confederates met at Kilkenny on November 12, the day before the battle of Knocknanuss. In the previous year there had been seventy-three members to represent Ulster, and these had given Rinuccini his majority. This time, ‘from poverty or some other cause,’ only nine appeared, who claimed to hold proxies for the whole number. This claim was disallowed, and Munster and Connaught, being under-represented owing to the difficulties of travel, the powers lay with ‘the mob of Leinster, many of them the minions of Muskerry.’ On the very day of meeting, apparently, the Assembly proceeded to pass what was in effect a new constitution. This document, extending to fifteen printed pages, and no doubt carefully prepared beforehand, begins by setting forth the ruin wrought by military violence. To repress this for the future a new Supreme[Pg 159] Council was appointed, consisting of twelve from each province; but the real power was given to a committee of twelve ‘residents,’ three for each province, chosen out of the larger number. Bellings was one of the twelve, only two of whom were bishops; of these, Edmund O’Dwyer, Bishop of Limerick, was a pronounced Ormondist; while Emer Macmahon of Clogher was by no means averse to treating with the Lord Lieutenant. When seven, being an absolute majority of the committee, came to any decision, the dissidents were to sign as if they had been assenting parties. Elaborate orders were made for the repression of malefactors, for raising money, and for the arming and training of a militia consisting of all men between sixteen and sixty, ‘forcing such as are able to provide for themselves swords and muskets, and the rest pikes and skeyns.’ It was recited that in all former assemblies many of the members had been ‘serving-men and men uninterested in the kingdom,’ and ordered that only estated gentlemen should be eligible in future. Finally, orders were given for the regulation of the ‘creaghts’ or nomad herdsmen of Ulster, who had followed Owen Roe O’Neill into the other three provinces and settled upon them like locusts, turning the cultivated country into a desert.[119]

‘I wonder,’ wrote Henrietta Maria to her husband a few days before the Assembly met at Kilkenny, ‘that the Irish do not give themselves to some foreign king; you will force them to it in the end, when they see themselves offered as a sacrifice.’ Many in Ireland were of the same opinion, and Rinuccini feared that Louis XIV. would be chosen. His own sympathies were rather Spanish, but he could not deny that France was likely to be the best paymaster and the most vigorous protector. A neutral would be preferable, and, like a good Florentine, he suggested the Grand Duke Ferdinand II. who had sent or promised some arms. But the Assembly had no thought of repudiating the English Crown, though they eagerly sought help from Continental sovereigns, and even from the Dutch States-General. None of the envoys[Pg 160] chosen were such as Rinuccini approved. Bishop French and Sir Nicholas Plunket were sent to Rome, and in this case he could say that the object of the Council was to get good men out of the way. They were to represent generally the fidelity of Ireland and her need of help, and in particular to beg the Pope’s intercession with the Queen and Prince, with the sovereigns of France and Spain, and with all other Christian princes. If all else failed, they were empowered to invite Innocent to be himself protector of Ireland, and they were to ask his help even if matters should be accommodated with the Queen and Prince. Sir Richard Blake, a decided opponent of the nuncio, was sent to Spain with instructions to offer the protectorship to the King; but only in the last resort and after they had heard the result of the Roman mission. The same instructions were given to those who went to France. Viscount Muskerry, Bishop Emer Macmahon, and Geoffrey Brown were at first chosen; but Macmahon positively refused to go on the grounds that the Queen hated him, that Jermyn and Digby had threatened his life for opposing the Ormonde peace, and that he spoke neither French nor English. The latter can hardly have been strictly the case, but perhaps he did not speak well enough for diplomacy. It was nevertheless carried by a majority that he should be compelled to go. ‘He then rose,’ says Rinuccini, ‘and, with much displeasure, added the following words: “You, sirs, have gained your victory, but I say that under no circumstances will I go to France.”’ More than fifty members left the hall, exclaiming that the Confederation was at end; but a bishop said that the disaffection of one need not dissolve the union of others. Muskerry, Taaffe, and Preston wished to imprison Macmahon, but the mayor sheltered him. There was a cry that O’Neill was coming, and the city gates were shut. Preston went to look for soldiers, and when Macmahon returned to the Assembly next day he was driven away as being himself under discussion. The lawyers said a bishop might be imprisoned, but the clergy objected, and the Council contented themselves with forbidding him to leave the city. In the[Pg 161] end, Antrim was substituted for the bishop as envoy to France, and the matter dropped for the time.[120]

On December 16 Inchiquin marched out of Cork with 1000 foot and a few horse, ‘and was fain to have a gathering among the poor inhabitants to get so much monies as to buy them brogues to keep their feet from being cut to pieces by ice.’ Owing to the difficulty of feeding men and horses, he could not increase his force materially. But, small as it was, Rinuccini reported at the end of January that it met with no resistance anywhere. A few days later Inchiquin relieved Cahir, occupied Carrick, and repaired the bridge there; threatened Waterford, where Rinuccini then was, and, turning northward, took Callan by assault. No artillery was used, all the gates being blown down with petards, and three hundred men were put to the sword, ‘besides some women, which the soldiers’ mercy would not extend to, notwithstanding orders to the contrary.’ The victors were unpaid and half starved, and even the officers underwent ‘intolerable extremities.’ Fethard was also in Inchiquin’s hands, and the Council of the Confederates fled in haste to Kilkenny from Clonmel, whither they had gone to compose local differences. Rinuccini went to Waterford, and Inchiquin raised contributions up to the very walls of Kilkenny. Perhaps he did not really want to take it, being already suspected of a wish to turn against the Parliament which had supplied his wants so ill. His officers continued to protest their fidelity, but dwelt upon the ‘improbable successes’ which they had attained without help. The Derby House Committee promised money and clothes, which either never came or came in ridiculously small quantities, showing that they were distrusted. They would be obliged to make terms with the rebels, unless Parliament sent shipping to fetch them off. The officers’ remonstrance was not read in the House of Commons until March 27, but Inchiquin had been for some time in communication with[Pg 162] Ormonde. This did not prevent him from attempting a junction with Jones, which was prevented by O’Neill, or from sending Major Patterson to Edinburgh, offering to join the Scots with 6000 men if they would declare for the King against the English Parliament.[121]

On landing in England, Ormonde went for a few days to Acton, near Bristol, where he stayed with his uncle, Sir Robert Poyntz. Having received a pass from Fairfax, he went to London and to the King at Hampton Court, to whom he presented an elaborate account of his proceedings in Ireland. He had a friendly meeting with Fairfax at Putney, and lived for some time at Kingston, to be near the King; but the army became jealous of the Royalist confabulations at Hampton Court, and on October 9 he had to take leave of Charles, whom he never saw again. He returned to Acton, which was conveniently near to Ireland, and sent, first, Colonel John Barry, and then Edward Synge, afterwards Bishop of Cloyne, to negotiate with Inchiquin. Fearing that he might be arrested, he crossed the country to Hastings and escaped in a fishing-boat to Dieppe. Many believed that he had gone to Scotland. He reached Paris early in March where he met Glamorgan and Antrim, each of them hoping to be the ‘Catholic viceroy’ for whom Rinuccini had so long contended. Muskerry and Brown reached St. Malo on March 14, and on April 2 made written proposals to the Queen and Prince. They were debarred from considering religious matters until the return of the envoys from Rome, and were content to stand for the present upon the terms of the Ormonde peace. In the case of property they were more specific, insisting that all lands forfeited since the first year of James and reconquered since October 23, 1641, from ‘any of the party adverse to us’ should be confirmed to the actual holders, that all who had lost their estates since the accession should be allowed to recover them, no statute or patent being pleadable to the contrary. No king of England could have granted these terms, and Henrietta was sur[Pg 163]rounded by English Protestants. Ormonde advised a friendly answer without any definite promises, and this course was taken. The Queen and Prince regretted the violation of the late peace, declined to discuss matters of religion with men who were not authorised to treat, and promised to send someone to Ireland empowered to ‘condescend to whatever may consist with justice and with his Majesty’s honour and interest to grant unto the said Confederated Catholics.’ This answer was not given till May 13, by which time the situation in Ireland had materially changed.[122]

[Pg 164]

CHAPTER XXIX

INCHIQUIN, RINUCCINI, AND ORMONDE, 1648

Inchiquin’s espousal of the Parliamentary cause had been generally attributed to his disgust at the King’s foolish appointment of Portland to be President of Munster over his head. But the motives of men are, for the most part, mixed, and he may have thought, as was indeed the fact, that he was taking the best course to protect the Protestants of southern Ireland. Ormonde could do little for them, and the masters of the sea could do much. But Parliament was torn by factions, and help was sent to Ireland grudgingly. Having gained two great victories and successfully maintained the three seaports, Inchiquin thought he deserved better treatment. Besides all this, he disliked the Independents and dreaded their growing power. In November 1642 he assured Ormonde that he was no Roundhead; and in August 1645, after Naseby and after his expulsion of the Roman Catholics from Cork and Youghal, he told his brother-in-law, Michael Boyle, that he would waive all dependence on Parliament if he could see safety for the Protestants by any other means. Even before the battle of Knocknanuss he was distrusted in Parliamentary circles, and after it he began to draw towards Ormonde. The Confederacy was evidently on the decline, and there was some chance of a general combination against Owen Roe O’Neill. Purely selfish considerations would probably have confirmed him in his allegiance to the Parliament; for since Cornet Joyce’s raid it was easy to see that the ‘Roundheads’ were going to win. On March 30, after the letter from Inchiquin’s officers had been considered, three members of the House of Commons were appointed to go as commissioners to the Munster army.[Pg 165] A fortnight later Major Elsing, one of the officers who refused to follow their general, reported his defection to the House, who thereupon recalled their commissioners, cancelled all Inchiquin’s powers, and voted him a rebel and traitor. Before declaring himself openly he had taken the precaution of bespeaking a welcome in France in case the worst came to the worst. Broghill, his rival in Munster, was also intriguing with Ormonde and the Queen; but in his case it came to nothing. His cousin, Sir W. Fenton, and other officers who refused to declare for the King, had been imprisoned by Inchiquin, and this may have tended to prevent Broghill from joining him.[123]

Inchiquin having declared himself a Royalist, there was nothing to prevent those who had made the Ormonde peace from coming to terms with him also. When the late raid was fresh in his memory, even Rinuccini had seen the necessity of doing something of the kind. Now that Kilkenny and Waterford seemed safe he strenuously opposed any cessation or truce on the ground that it would leave things as before. Inchiquin’s change of front had left him without allies, and this was the time to crush the author of the Cashel massacre. The Supreme Council urged that they were in no condition to maintain a war, and that even if they were it would be bad policy to drive Inchiquin to desperation. The result would be to deliver Cork, Youghal, and Kinsale to the Parliament, who would always grant him fair terms for such valuable possessions. Inchiquin was certainly very anti-Catholic, ‘yet, as we are informed, he suffers our priests to live and mass to be celebrated within his quarters,’ and he would allow tithes to be paid in Tipperary and ‘Cashel and all the churches which were profaned there’ to be restored to their old uses. Michael Jones was making great preparations in Dublin, and the Confederacy would soon have to reckon with him. ‘Your lordship knows by experience,’ they reminded the nuncio, ‘that when the enemy insulted over your lordship at the walls of Waterford, and stood at defiance with us at the gates of Kilkenny, how slow our forces were drawing to a head, when[Pg 166] after orders upon orders, ten times at least, issued by us, one on the neck of another, to General Preston, General O’Neill, and the Lord Taaffe, scarce three thousand men could be brought into the city before the enemy retreated.’ But Rinuccini above all things dreaded the return of Ormonde, and persisted in opposing a truce ‘with any of a contrary religion,’ though he was willing to agree to an ‘accommodation, confederacy, or some such like contract,’ based not upon the status quo, but upon a distinct advantage to be gained. He held a meeting of fourteen bishops, who decided that no one could with a safe conscience agree to the truce. There was a minority of six, but, according to the custom on such occasions, they signed with the rest.[124]

‘The nuncio,’ says Bellings, ‘seeing that no opposition he could give was of force to interrupt the cessation, judging it, perhaps, unfit for him to be present at the publishing of it, left the town in such a manner as might well persuade the people somewhat had been plotted against his person, for, passing through the garden of Mr. Shea’s house, where he lived, and mounting to the town wall by a ladder, he went out at the gate, and thence to the northern army in Leix, where the Ulster creaghts, from the time Owen O’Neill had taken the fort of Maryborough on his advance to the siege of Dublin, had been planted.’ Bishop Macmahon left Kilkenny next day. Some monks had told the nuncio that a plot against his life had been revealed to them under the seal of confession. Somebody may have said this to drive him away, but that there was such a plot is quite incredible, and it may be doubted whether Rinuccini believed it himself. He fled to O’Neill at Maryborough, and when he was gone the truce was quickly concluded. The Council, more for the sake of popularity than because they wished for his presence, made great efforts to induce him to return, but he was irreconcilable, and was destined never to see Kilkenny again.[Pg 167] The truce was concluded without his consent on May 20, to last until November 1, upon the basis of each party retaining its own and of a mutual exchange of prisoners. Inchiquin’s quarters were defined as the counties of Cork, Kerry, and Waterford, with the proviso that he should not tax the baronies of Glenaheiry, near Clonmel, and Gaultier, near Waterford, nor the towns of Dingle and Tralee. He undertook not to interfere with the free exercise of religion outside his garrison towns. A week later the nuncio excommunicated all who accepted the truce, and laid an interdict on towns and villages receiving it. Macmahon and four other bishops signed the document, and the penalties of excommunication were declared to be incurred by all who removed or defaced it.[125]

‘The lord nuncio’s excommunications,’ says Bellings, ‘had now by his often thundering of them, grown more cheap.’ A sense of this may have been the reason why he made it as stringent as possible, though he was without books or canonists, and therefore open to criticism in point of form. In the letters written at the time he admits that the result varied very much in different places, but in the narrative composed after he left Ireland he says he ‘knew of no occasion when the censure has better deserved the name of a thunderbolt,’ and that it had at once sent 2000 of Preston’s soldiers over to O’Neill. The paper was publicly posted in Kilkenny, and the Supreme Council at once appealed to Rome. O’Neill and his officers declared unreservedly for the nuncio, professing to believe that Ormonde was really a partisan of the Parliament, and that those who adhered to him were inclined the same way. The Council thereupon revoked his commission as general of Ulster, and advised him and his officers by letter. O’Neill collected these missives and burned them publicly in the presence of Bishop Macmahon and others, and proceeded to increase his forces as fast as possible. Some money brought from Rome by Dean Massari enabled him to do this. The Dean had also brought a sword from Luke Wadding,[Pg 168] which was said to have been Tyrone’s, and for which he had a splendid scabbard made at Paris. As a former Pope had sent Tyrone a crown of peacock’s feathers, so this was thought to be a confirmation of the report that Owen O’Neill was designated as king in Mahony’s pamphlet. The sword never came into O’Neill’s hands, and there is no evidence that he had any such ideas, though the nature of his ambition must always be somewhat questionable. Things came to a head about the end of July, when James Preston, the general’s son, besieged Athy, which was held by Shane O’Hagan against the Confederates, and where O’Neill had established a bakery for ammunition-bread. Summoned by O’Hagan to his relief, the northern general came from Longford without meeting much resistance, and passed the flooded Barrow by felling an oak tree across it. Preston drew off at his approach, and he encamped a few days later in Lord Mountgarret’s park at Dunmore with 10,000 foot and 500 horse. His men ate the deer and drank the good ale in the lodge. He made no attempt on the town, about which Preston had collected some troops, and after a stay of five days drew off into Queen’s County, Inchiquin following him with a much inferior force.[126]

While O’Neill’s tents were visible from the walls of Kilkenny there was great confusion inside. Some churches were shut; others, in defiance of the interdict, remained open. A letter was intercepted in which Paul King, guardian of the Franciscans and a special confidant of the nuncio’s, invited the northern general to take possession. The Council imprisoned King and made Peter Walsh guardian. Walsh was employed to draw up queries and answers, which were afterwards signed by Bishop Rothe, against the validity of Rinuccini’s censures. ‘I remember very well,’ writes the learned friar, ‘how (besides others) Richard Bellings, Esq., a leading member and chief secretary of the said Council, came several times from them to my chamber to hasten my despatch, and to tell me of the great danger of delay, being the enemy was in sight and the people so divided.’ He worked for five days[Pg 169] and nights consecutively without closing his eyes, and preached in the cathedral at the end of it. A respectable number of divines followed Rothe and Walsh, but it was evident that the Confederacy could not be restored. O’Neill, who alone of the Irish generals had the prestige of victory, openly defied the authority of the Council and adhered to the nuncio. Jones was gradually growing stronger in Dublin, and it was evident that no one except Ormonde could have the weight necessary. Inchiquin had urged him to come as soon as the truce was concluded. ‘Divers of my men,’ he said, ‘have died of hunger, after they had a while lived upon cats and dogs, as many do now. And if, while I am in this condition, the Parliament shipping should arrive according to our expectation, grounded upon good advertisement, with some officers, money, clothes, and victuals, and make tender thereof unto our soldiers, if they will give up the officers they have now, a greater strait than I shall be in cannot be imagined.’[127]

After leaving Kilkenny, O’Neill marched to Borrisoleigh in Tipperary. Here he received an invitation to visit Clare, and went to Killaloe, whence he detached Rory Maguire to surprise Banagher. He then turned back into Tipperary, and sent another detachment to Nenagh, which was taken by storm. From Silvermines he went to Birr, where he heard that Athy was again closely besieged by Preston, and sent a party to relieve it. Inchiquin, in the meantime, recovered Nenagh by undermining the wall, while his men were sheltered with wooden barriers. The garrison surrendered before the mine was fired, and Inchiquin then went to Banagher, where he was joined by Clanricarde and Taaffe. They were so well posted that O’Neill was unable to raise the siege, and retired by Tullamore to the neighbourhood of Belturbet in Cavan. Athlone was already in Clanricarde’s hands, so that the party opposed to Rinuccini had been successful all along the line. O’Neill’s object had been to reach Kerry, which had not been devastated and where there were harbours to receive foreign supplies, and mountains suited to his[Pg 170] peculiar tactics. He remained inactive in Ulster for the rest of the year.[128]

Early in September O’Neill employed Rory O’More, the original plotter of the rebellion, on a mission to Inchiquin. He offered to leave him the whole of Munster without any condition but that of non-interference in the other provinces. Adopting Rinuccini’s view that anything was better than the Supreme Council, he also entered into negotiations with the governor of Dublin. Jones was represented by his brother, the Bishop of Clogher, while Macmahon, who claimed the same see, was hand-and-glove with O’Neill. The General Assembly declared that ‘as Owen Roe and the Bishop of Clogher (Macmahon) mislead those adhering unto them with deep protestations of their loyalty, and desires to advance the Catholic religion, and his Majesty’s interests, and his aversion to Jones and his ways; so of the other side Jones with his Protestant Bishop of Clogher, by the same acts and illusions (while they be practisers with Owen O’Neill) endeavours to persuade his officers and soldiers that he intends to prosecute him as a pestilent blood-sucker, and a sworn enemy to the English nation and Government; and we are informed that when despatches come from Owen O’Neill, and the messengers of Vicar-General Edmond O’Reilly are seen at Dublin, Jones gives out that they are sent from the Council at Kilkenny.’ In his declaration against the truce with Inchiquin O’Neill denounced the Confederates for surrendering all to Ormonde, ‘the great personage whom in their souls they know to be wholly disposed to betray the kingdom to the Parliament.’ It is hard to believe that O’Neill thought any such thing; at all events, he heartily congratulated the great personage on his safe arrival in Ireland. ‘None,’ he said, ‘shall be found in the kingdom more obedient and dutiful to his Majesty, and consequently to your Excellency.’ Ormonde replied that he would have no reason to complain if his actions were agreeable to his professions. In the meantime the Supreme Council had proclaimed O’Neill a traitor, along with Bishop Macmahon, Vicar-General O’Reilly,[Pg 171] Dominic Fanning, and others, and had ordered all their adherents to lay down their arms before October 25 on pain of being held traitors likewise.[129]

Ormonde reached Cork harbour on Michaelmas Day. Inchiquin begged him to come, with or without money, but to multiply the real sum by four so as to encourage the soldiers. What he actually brought was thirty pistoles, his slender resources having been expended through various accidents and delays before he left France. He issued an address to the Munster army, declaring that he had come ‘to employ his utmost endeavours for the settlement of the Protestant religion, for defence of the King in his prerogatives, and for maintaining the privileges and freedom of Parliament, as well as the liberty of the subject.’ Independency he would do his best to suppress. He had still all the legal authority of a viceroy, but his special powers to treat with the Irish had been exhausted in 1646. He had fresh powers from the Prince of Wales, but they might be objected to, and the King was applied to for their confirmation. ‘I must command you two things,’ wrote Charles from Newport, ‘first, to obey all my wife’s commands; then, not to obey any commands of mine until I send you word that I am free from restraint. Lastly, be not startled at my great concessions concerning Ireland, for that they will come to nothing.’ Ormonde stayed a few days at Cork, and then went to his own house at Carrick, so as to be near Kilkenny.[130]

The mayor of Galway attempted to proclaim the truce, as Kilkenny had done, but Rinuccini opposed him in person, and in the riot which followed some lives were lost. The mob generally sided with the nuncio, and he had the bell of the Carmelites’ church taken down, that order having opposed him. Two priests were posted at the door ‘to keep Catholics from the mass, to the great scandal of Catholic religion in the country, where there are many Protestants that, by good[Pg 172] example, might be converted to the Catholic faith.’ Archbishop de Burgo reached the town at this juncture, and demanded the production of the warrant under which Rinuccini acted. ‘I won’t show it,’ said the nuncio. ‘And I won’t obey you,’ replied the archbishop, and ordered the church doors to be forcibly opened by a man who got in through a hole in the roof. The archbishop celebrated mass in spite of the interdict. In order to neutralise the action of the Kilkenny Council, Rinuccini summoned a national synod to meet at Galway on August 15; but Clanricarde, who had the assistance of Inchiquin, surrounded the town and quite prevented any episcopal gathering there. No letters reached the nuncio, and it was with great difficulty that he despatched any. On August 30 he published a declaration, which was signed by six bishops and some other dignitaries, setting forth that adhesion to the truce with Inchiquin was ‘a deadly sin against the law of God and His Church.’ This did not prevent the Assembly from meeting at Kilkenny on September 4, who denounced the malice and irregularity of those who signed the declaration, and pronounced them guilty of the late bloodshed at Galway. A few days later they sent John Roe, provincial of the barefooted Carmelites, to Rome with letters for the Pope. They had fought, they said, for the faith for seven years, and their reward was to have the papal thunders loosened upon their heads by the nuncio. As soon as Ormonde arrived they congratulated him, and announced their willingness to conclude ‘a well-grounded and lasting peace’ with him. Commissioners, of whom Sir Phelim O’Neill was one, were appointed to carry on the negotiations. Early in November Ormonde was invited to Kilkenny, and entered the town with great pomp, the members of the Assembly going out along the road to meet him and conducting him to his own castle. It was just three years since Rinuccini had been received with equal or greater rejoicing.[131]

Antrim was much disgusted at not being made Lord[Pg 173] Lieutenant, and reached Ireland about the same time as Ormonde, with the intention of thwarting him. He was not trusted by the Confederates, and the most important part of the Paris negotiations had been hidden from him. Wexford favoured the nuncio, and Antrim collected about a thousand men there with a view of making a diversion in aid of Owen O’Neill. They consisted of a battalion of Highlanders, under Macdonald of Glengarry, and of levies made among the O’Byrnes and Kavanaghs. They were attacked on the road between Wexford and Arklow by the Confederate forces, and routed by MacThomas and his cavalry. This is what Antrim in his autobiographical memoir calls ‘living privately at Wexford and Waterford.’ He escaped by boat to Arklow, and thence to O’Neill’s garrison at Rebane in Kildare. In the following year he became a pensioner of Cromwell.[132]

In the meantime the aspect of affairs in Ulster had changed very much. Coote was governor of Londonderry, but much straitened by the fort of Culmore, which was held by Sir Robert Stewart. Stewart was now a decided Royalist, and his guns commanded the channel of the Foyle so that supplies reached the city with difficulty. Monro still held Carrickfergus and Belfast, while Monck held O’Neill in check from Dundalk and Lisburn. When Monro’s nephew George, who had escaped so narrowly at Benburb, went over to Scotland for the King, he took with him men from most of the Scottish regiments. This was done with his uncle’s connivance, and Monck had strict orders from the Parliament to seize Belfast. During the night of September 12 he arrived accordingly before Carrickfergus with a strong force. The captain of the guard opened the gate, Monro was taken in his bed, and sent over to England. Belfast then surrendered without resistance. The thanks of Parliament, which was in good humour after Preston, were given to Monck, who was voted 500l., and made governor of Belfast and Carrickfergus. A few weeks later, Coote was equally successful, and he also received the thanks of Parliament. Stewart was inveigled[Pg 174] into Londonderry to attend a christening, and was seized, along with Audley Mervyn. They were sent over to England, and Culmore fort soon surrendered to Coote, as did Lifford and some other places. With the exception of Charlemont, which the Irish had held since 1641, every fortified place in Ulster was in Parliamentary hands by the end of the year.[133]

While Ormonde was negotiating at Kilkenny, a serious mutiny occurred among the cavalry of Inchiquin’s army. Many of the officers were not Royalists, and many of the men had received no pay. It was true that their wants had been neglected by Parliament; but the Houses had at least the means of becoming prompt paymasters, while Ormonde could only give promises. The proceedings in Ulster showed that the Parliamentary cause was gaining ground. By simultaneously seizing several of the chief officers, by offering an indemnity for the past, and by promising to detain no man against his will, Inchiquin quelled the mutiny; but it was thought desirable that Ormonde should visit Cork, and he left the Assembly sitting at Kilkenny. Richard Fanshawe reached Kinsale at this juncture with letters from the Prince of Wales and power to announce that Rupert was coming with his fleet and supplies. The Duke of York was expected at once, and his elder brother as soon as he had recovered from an attack of smallpox. Ormonde urged the Prince of Wales to come, for his presence was the one thing necessary to restore the confidence of ‘a discouraged rather than disaffected army.’ Money and additional men would be very useful, but Charles himself much more so. Having done what he could in Munster, the Lord Lieutenant returned to Kilkenny within a fortnight as he had promised.[134]

Ormonde was ill after his return to Kilkenny, and the[Pg 175] discussions about the peace were suspended till December 19; but the Confederates were in no condition to drive a hard bargain. Bishop French and Sir Nicholas Plunket had returned from Rome empty-handed, the Pope alleging troubles in Crete and a possible invasion of Italy by the Turks as reasons for turning a deaf ear to Ireland. The agents were also reminded that no account had been given of the large sum sent over by Massari. The Remonstrance of the army in England became known at Kilkenny about the same time, and it had a very sobering effect. The Assembly receded from its extreme claim in the matter of religion, and on January 17 a peace was concluded which differed but slightly from that made in 1646 and afterwards rejected by Rinuccini’s advice. Everything was referred to a free Parliament to be held in Ireland in six months, or as soon after as possible, and no man was to be molested for any matter of religion in the meantime. The Confederacy was dissolved and the powers of a provisional government were vested in twelve lay notables, of whom three were peers, afterwards known as the ‘Commissioners of Trust.’ The peace was signed at Kilkenny and proclaimed on the same day, and a circular letter was also sent out by nine bishops. These prelates advised their co-religionists to accept the peace loyally. ‘In the present concessions,’ they said, ‘and in the expectation of further gracious favours from his Majesty’s goodness, we have received a good satisfaction for the being and safety of religion; and the substance thereof, as to the concessions for religion, is better than the sound; by the temporal articles lives, liberties, and the estates of men are well provided for ... you fight fiercely against sectaries and rebels for God and Cæsar, and under those banners you may well hope for victories.’[135]

While Ormonde was negotiating at Kilkenny, Rinuccini[Pg 176] was in low estate at Galway. ‘For eight months,’ he wrote, ‘I have seen none of my attendants, and am reduced to such a point, that however bad the vessel, the sea is almost safer for me than the land.’ He sent his confessor, Giuseppe Arcamoni, a Theatine, to Rome in order to counterbalance the efforts of the Carmelite Roe. The Confederates had gone so far as to order him out of Ireland to make his defence before the Pope in person, and to forbid him in the meantime to ‘intermeddle directly or indirectly’ in Irish affairs. A duplicate of this letter was sent to the Corporation of Galway, and both original and copy were accompanied by a long statement of charges against the nuncio. The corporation were peremptorily ordered to have no further dealings with the ‘lord archbishop of Fermo.’ He was accused generally of arbitrary and tyrannical conduct, of endeavouring to subvert fundamental laws and to withdraw the people from their allegiance to the Crown, and of plotting to ‘introduce a foreign, arbitrary, and tyrannical government.’ In a paper drawn up about this time Ormonde says, ‘the nuncio is a foreigner, and no subject of his Majesty’s; therefore not at all interested in any agreement between his Majesty and his subjects, and may have aims prejudicial to both, wherefore his satisfaction may be as difficult as unnecessary.’[136]

Rinuccini was completely beaten, though the great bulk of the clergy were with him. He could claim seventeen bishops against eight, and the vast majority of the religious orders, excepting the Jesuits. He had with him the Celtic population, as represented by Owen Roe O’Neill, and the poorer classes generally, who cared much for the Church and very little for the Crown. But the nobility and the legal profession were against him. ‘A few days,’ he wrote, ‘after my arrival in Kilkenny some lawyers inquired from Father Scarampi if I were going to erect a tribunal. When he said yes, they replied that they would not put up with it by any[Pg 177] means.... In the public assembly Viscount Muskerry said that the day of my arrival was a fatal one for the country; in short, they have shown in every action that they cannot endure the authority of the Pope; they are even not ashamed to say in private and in print that his succours were mere empty hopes, vanity, and vexation. It may be therefore by the will of God that a people Catholic only in name, and so irreverent towards the Church, should feel the thunderbolt of the Holy See, and draw upon themselves the anger which is the meed of the scorner.’ Rinuccini declared that a nuncio to a heretic viceroy was an absurdity, and prepared to leave the country. With difficulty he succeeded in securing the very San Pietro on board of which he had first come. Plunket and French went to Galway to report the result of their Roman mission, but he did not await their arrival, and it was thought that he feared orders from the Pope incompatible with his late proceedings. He sailed on February 23, crowds of weeping people accompanying him to the ship; the poor were much better Catholics than the lords and lawyers. The demonstration on his arrival had been less than ‘on the completion of his mission to a poor and persecuted minister, and could not be ascribed to the hopes of assistance which they entertained.’ He thought the corrupted nations nearer Rome should ‘journey to a distant clime where the sun is never seen, that they may fully comprehend the due subjection of the faithful to their head.’ In the meantime he sent his confessor to Rome with instructions to press for certain specific measures. The authorities were called upon to suspend Bishop Rothe of Ossory, to summon Archbishop de Burgo to Rome, to call Peter Walsh ‘before the Inquisition or any other tribunal in Rome,’ to summon the chiefs of the recalcitrant Carmelites, and to order Malone, provincial of the Irish Jesuits, out of Ireland. Arcamoni arrived in March, but Rinuccini lingered long in France and in his native Florence, and did not reach Rome till the second week in November. No one there approved of his proceedings in Ireland, and the Pope accused him of[Pg 178] rashness. More than two years before he had abstained from making him a cardinal, though urged to do so by Bishop Macmahon.[137]

[Pg 179]

CHAPTER XXX

RINUCCINI TO CROMWELL, 1649

Having pacified the Confederates and driven away Rinuccini, Ormonde was now for the moment almost master of Ireland. If he could only regain Dublin before Cromwell was ready, the chances of war and politics might yet turn in the young King’s favour. He attempted to win over O’Neill, who had still 5000 foot and 300 horse, though many chiefs had deserted him and 2000 of his men had gone to Spain under O’Sullivan Bere. O’Neill was willing to accept the peace if he might be allowed 6000 foot and 800 horse at the expense of the country, but the Commissioners of Trust, with whom all such questions rested, would not agree to more than 4000 foot and 600 horse. When at last they yielded it was only on condition that the regiments of Sir Phelim O’Neill and others who had deserted the Ulster general should form part of the force. Suspecting ill-faith, Owen O’Neill turned to Jones and Monck, from whom he might expect a supply of powder, and the former actually sold him some. Ormonde then approached Michael Jones, but he refused to abandon those from whom he held his command. Coote professed himself ready to obey the King’s orders as soon as his Majesty was in a position to enable him to do so safely. He was, however, deserted by some of Sir Robert Stewart’s old officers, who seized Enniskillen, imprisoned Sir William Cole, and declared for the King. Ormonde pressed Charles to come to Ireland, but Scotch influences proved too strong.[138]

Ormonde went to Cork early in February in order to communicate with Prince Rupert. At Youghal on his[Pg 180] return he heard of the King’s execution, and immediately proclaimed Charles II. The same was done wherever his authority extended, and the new sovereign lost no time in renewing his commission as Lord Lieutenant with the fullest powers. His negotiations with O’Neill at this time had no result, but he had some hope that the King’s execution would detach Michael Jones from the Parliament. There was, he said, an evident intention to abolish monarchy, ‘unless their aim be first to constitute an elective kingdom and Cromwell or some such John of Leyden being elected then by the same force to establish a perfect Turkish tyranny.’ Nothing better could be expected from ‘the dregs and scum of the House of Commons picked and awed by the army,’ which was all that remained of the ancient constitution. Jones in his answer pointed out that the peace just concluded scarcely gave any protection to Protestants, and that none was to be expected from a Papist army. His business was not to meddle in affairs of State, but to carry out the work for which he was appointed. The intermeddling of Irish governors with English parties had always had the effect of weakening the colony, and Ormonde himself had provided a case in point by sending most of his English army across the channel, and thus very nearly abandoning Ireland to the rebels. The English interest could evidently only be preserved by the English, and it was upon that ground that he had surrendered Dublin to the Parliament, ‘from which clear principle I am sorry to see your lordship now receding.’ Jones said nothing either in approval or condemnation of the King’s execution, but he did not allow it to affect his action. The Scots in Ulster, while condemning it unreservedly, did not think it a reason for supporting Ormonde. The Presbytery of Belfast were chiefly anxious to overthrow the sectaries who had departed from the Solemn League and Covenant, and even showed an intention of tolerating all religions, even ‘paganism and Judaism.’ But they were scarcely less bitter against those who ‘combined themselves with Papists and other notorious malignants.’ Milton, who was just beginning his career as Latin secretary, was em[Pg 181]ployed by the House of Commons to answer both Ormonde and the Ulster presbyters. With the latter he had little difficulty, for they admitted that Ireland was dependent upon England and not upon Scotland. ‘The Presbytery of Belfast, a small town in Ulster,’ said the poet, should have enough to do in overseeing their own flock, without meddling in affairs of State. The House of Commons were accused of seizing upon the King’s person, ‘but was he not surrendered into their hands an enemy and captive by their own subordinate and paid army of Scots in England?’ And Knox, who was the founder of Scotch presbytery, ‘taught professedly the doctrine of deposing and of killing kings.’ Ormonde on his part made a great mistake in comparing Cromwell to John of Leyden, for never was any man more unlike the Puritan chief than the polygamous scoundrel who had enjoyed a brief royalty at Münster. Cromwell, said Milton, had ‘done in few years more eminent and remarkable deeds whereon to found nobility in his house though it were wanting, and perpetual renown to posterity, than Ormonde and all his ancestors put together can show from any record of their Irish exploits, the widest scene of their glory.’ Dealing with the articles of the peace in greater detail than Jones had done, Milton shows that the Protestants of Ireland were really left at the mercy of those who were more or less responsible for the massacres. The cessation of 1643 and the abortive articles of 1646 were open to the same objection, but this last treaty went further in proposing to give an Irish Parliament power to repeal Poynings’ Act, and by abandoning the militia, ‘a trust which the King swore by God at Newmarket he would not commit to his Parliament of England, no, not for an hour.’ Nor did Milton omit to notice the article ‘more ridiculous than dangerous’ which provided for the repeal of laws against ploughing by the tail and burning in the straw, showing how ‘indocible and averse from all civility and amendment,’ the Irish rebels were.[139]

[Pg 182]

George Monck was governor of Ulster for the Parliament. Being deserted by the Scots under Sir Robert Stewart and Sir George Monro, he found it hard to maintain himself, but he was able to victual Londonderry, Coleraine, Greencastle, and Lisburn. He himself lay at Dundalk, where he feared to be attacked on all sides. To keep O’Neill from joining with Ormonde was therefore his chief object. Sooner or later O’Neill would have had to accept the Lord Lieutenant’s overtures, for he was entirely cut off from the sea and had no other means of replenishing his stock of powder. Monck, who knew that help was coming from England, resolved to give the necessary powder on condition of an offensive and defensive alliance for three months, during which O’Neill bound himself to make no terms with Ormonde or Inchiquin or with any opponent of the Parliament. Each of these two silent men, who were soldiers and not politicians, thought the preservation of his army the first object. O’Neill was responsible to no one; but Monck took the precaution of reporting all he had done to Cromwell, who would understand the military argument, and see that political prudery was out of place in the midst of war. The immediate result of the treaty was to reduce the activity of the Scots by whom Londonderry was beset. Later on Coote followed Monck’s example, and O’Neill’s help enabled him to hold out until relief came from England. Ormonde, on the other hand, drove O’Neill out of Leinster, Maryborough, Athy, and other garrisons being taken by Castlehaven during the month of May.[140]

On June 19 Ormonde, with 7000 foot and 3000 horse, advanced almost to the walls of Dublin, and fixed his camp at Finglas, about three miles north of the town, his tents being visible to the besieged. Jones had nearly as many foot, besides armed citizens, but only about 500 horse. Outside the capital Parliament now held only Drogheda, Trim, and Dundalk in Leinster. Jones had no hay or oats for horses and oxen, and was short of provisions, there being neither[Pg 183] fish nor flesh in the market; but while the sea was open that was not likely to last, though a more enterprising general might perhaps have succeeded in a sudden attack. The army, however, as it turned out, was not a very good one, and doubtless Ormonde knew it. Rupert was at Kinsale with his piratical fleet, and Ormonde urged him to blockade Dublin, but the prince either could not or would not comply while the possibility existed, and after Blake’s arrival on May 22 even the possibility ceased. Pressed probably by want of forage Jones sent most of his cavalry to Drogheda, but they were attacked on the road by Inchiquin and suffered great loss. Inchiquin was then detached with 2000 foot and 1500 horse to beleaguer Drogheda, and on the 28th it capitulated. The garrison were allowed to go where they pleased, and a few joined Jones, but the greater part went over to Ormonde. O’Neill’s chief strength was at this time in Cavan and Monaghan, and at the beginning of May he held a provincial council at Belturbet, where it was decided to help Coote if he would give the necessary ammunition. This negotiation failed at the time, and in June O’Neill drew down with 3000 men to the neighbourhood of Dundalk, where he encamped. Monck was ready to give the powder if O’Neill would bring it off, and Colonel Ferral with the requisite carts and an escort of 500 men was sent on this duty. From the town to the camp was only about seven miles, and the road was open. Inchiquin found out what was going on, and sent Colonel Trevor with a strong body of horse to attack the convoy. The Irish soldiers had got drunk in Dundalk, and made but a poor resistance, so that the stores were captured and most of the escort killed or taken. O’Neill immediately fell back to Clones and renewed his negotiations with Coote, who was now willing to give thirty barrels of powder with sufficient match, and either three hundred beeves or 400l. in money. As soon as O’Neill approached Londonderry the Scots marched away, and the bulwark of the North was threatened no more. Inchiquin was left free to deal with Dundalk, which Monck had no idea of surrendering, had his men allowed him to hold it. But they were[Pg 184] hungry, they were unpaid, and to their eyes it seemed that their chief was engaged in an unholy transaction with the authors of the Ulster massacre. Dundalk opened its gates and Monck was allowed to go where he pleased. He went to England to tell his own story.[141]

After Drogheda and Dundalk were taken Ormonde crossed the Liffey and established his camp at Rathmines, leaving Lord Dillon at Finglas with a small force. On the same day Jones received a reinforcement of 1500 foot and 600 horse under Reynolds and Venables, and the chance of taking Dublin was proportionately diminished, for the garrison had become more numerous than the besieging army. ‘We had it,’ says Ormonde, ‘from many good hands out of England and from Dublin, that Cromwell was at the seaside ready to embark for this kingdom, and that his design was for Munster.’ Lest Cork, Kinsale, and Youghal should fall while Dublin was still untaken it was decided by a council of war to send Inchiquin to Munster with three regiments of horse. This proved fatal, but it was supposed that Cromwell meant to land the greater part of his army in the south, and his intention was made known by some who came in the ships which brought fresh troops to Jones. Ormonde realised that if he did not take Dublin before Cromwell came he was not likely to take it after. He diverted the conduit which brought the Dodder water from near Templeoge to Dublin, and thus stopped the mills, though there was still enough to drink from other sources. Wheat was selling in Dublin at 5l. 10s. a quarter and rye at 4l. 10s., yet the garrison would hardly starve while they had command of the river, but it was different with the horses who depended upon the grazing of the meadows between Trinity College and the mouth of the Dodder. Having first reduced Rathfarnham, which annoyed his rear, Ormonde decided to fortify Baggotrath Castle, which stood near the point where Waterloo Road now joins Upper Baggot Street, and thus deprive Jones’s cavalry of their supply of fodder. Soon after dark on the night of August 1 he sent Purcell with[Pg 185] 1500 men to occupy the place, which had already been examined carefully, and he expected to find tenable entrenchments there in the morning. The distance was scarcely a mile, and Purcell had been at Baggotrath during the day; but he wandered about all night, and when the morning broke nothing had been done. This was attributed to the treachery of a guide, and Peter Walsh says Edmund O’Reilly, afterwards Archbishop of Armagh, had been engaged in conducting an intrigue between Owen O’Neill and Jones, and that he was guilty of betraying the camp at Rathmines. Ormonde sat up during the night to write despatches, but rode to Baggotrath with the first light. He found very little progress made with the entrenchments, while the garrison of Dublin were evidently on the alert and busily moving about under shelter of their works. Jones had 4000 foot and 1200 horse under arms, having at first no intention but to prevent the Royalists from establishing themselves on the shore, but the first encounter gradually developed into a general engagement, when the superior quality of the Parliamentarian troops soon became manifest. Expecting no attack, Ormonde had lain down to rest about nine o’clock, and some of his officers left their posts, so that the troops were partly surprised. He himself was roused by the firing about ten, and most of his men made but slight resistance, ‘many of them running away towards the hills of Wicklow, where some of them were bred, and whither they knew the way but too well.’ The fighting continued for about two hours and ended in a complete rout, the cavalry dispersing after the death of their commander, Sir William Vaughan. Jones’s loss in killed was not above twenty, and he reported that he had taken 2517 prisoners and that 4000 Royalists were killed; but the latter figure is doubtless much exaggerated. A vast quantity of arms and stores of all kinds fell into the victor’s hands. Ormonde escaped with very few followers, having totally failed to rally his broken regiments, but that portion of his army which had remained on the north bank of the Liffey escaped to Drogheda and Trim. Many of Inchiquin’s old soldiers afterwards took service with[Pg 186] Jones, and not a few of Ormonde’s did the same, declaring with loud shouts that they would return to their own countrymen. Jones secured all the guns, and Ormonde lost his papers, besides ‘velvets, silk, scarlets, wines, grocery, and some convenient quantity of money.’ He went to Kilkenny, and a week after started for Drogheda with 300 horse. Jones, who had moved northwards to attack that town, thereupon withdrew into Dublin and awaited Cromwell’s arrival. Rathfarnham, Maynooth, and other strong places near Dublin fell into the victor’s hands, but Ormonde took Ballyshannon immediately after the battle, persuading the governor that Dublin had surrendered. When the truth was known Inchiquin’s soldiers in Munster began to desert and enter the Parliamentary ranks.[142]

The peace was signed on January 17, and on the 22nd Ormonde sent Lord Byron to invite the Prince of Wales to Ireland. If he could bring money and supplies with him he would be doubly welcome, but in any case his presence would be of the greatest value. All England and Scotland were either engaged in rebellion or subdued by the rebels, otherwise Ormonde would not have invited the Prince ‘so far from the more vital part of his hopes.’ Byron found Charles at the Hague nearly two months later surrounded by Scotch[Pg 187] lords, who were for the most part opposed to an Irish venture, though Montrose strongly favoured it. On his way through Paris Byron had seen Henrietta Maria, who thought the change of her son’s condition from prince to king ‘an argument rather to hasten than retard his repair thither.’ Charles himself was anxious to go, but he had no money and the States would give none unless he would go to Scotland and take the Covenant. Among the Scots the extreme Presbyterians even insisted on his parting with Montrose. The idea of going to Ireland was not abandoned for some months, but the means were wanting, and Charles spent some time at St. Germains, where he divided his attentions between Lucy Walter and Mademoiselle de Montpensier. He reached Jersey in the middle of September, and there heard for the first time of the defeat at Rathmines. Henry Seymour, who carried a garter for Ormonde, was sent to find out how things were really going in Ireland, but the news of the fall of Drogheda and of Cromwell’s progress arrived before he could start. When he reached Ireland he found Ormonde still anxious for the King’s appearance, but he must have seen that the cause was hopeless. Seymour was back in Jersey about the end of January 1650, and Charles left the island, which he had found intolerably dull, about a fortnight later. He went to Breda to make arrangements for becoming a covenanted King of Scotland and for denouncing Ormonde’s treaty with the Irish Confederates, with which he had before declared himself highly satisfied.[143]

Prince Rupert left Helvoetsluys January 21, 1649, with ‘three flagships, four frigates and one prize ... in company with the Amsterdam, a Dutch ship of 1000 tons, and two others of less burden.’ His own second-rate had but forty sailors and eighty soldiers instead of the normal complement of 300. The frigates, whose business it was to prey upon merchantmen, were a little better manned. The Duke of[Pg 188] York was invited to sail with this fleet, but Hyde says he was dissuaded by ‘his old Presbyterian counsellors.’ Rupert was blown as far as Crookhaven, but by the end of the month he had collected his ships at Kinsale. Fanshawe was at hand to receive such part of the expected plunder as might help to fill the exiled King’s exchequer, and Hyde impressed upon him the importance of maintaining friendly relations between Rupert and Ormonde. The Prince of Wales wrote to the same effect, but Rupert preferred to play an obscure game of his own and to intrigue with Antrim, O’Neill, and the Irish generally against the Lord Lieutenant. As a sea-rover he was at first successful enough, keeping a squadron at Scilly, which had revolted from the Parliament, and announcing his intention to make a second Venice of the little archipelago. A great many prizes were taken, but Rupert lost one frigate, taken at sea by Parliamentarian cruisers. His great difficulty was want of men, but he picked them up wherever he could about the Irish coast in sufficient numbers to man some extra ships. The depredations upon commerce lasted until May, when a powerful fleet under Deane, Popham, and Blake came before Kinsale. Towards the end of June Rupert made a show of attempting to break through the blockade, but had to draw back without fighting. He had greatly strengthened the fortifications at the harbour’s mouth, which prevented the republican squadron from entering. Then provisions and crews began to dwindle again, and nothing more was attempted throughout the summer. In October Blake was driven off the coast by a storm. Rupert seized the opportunity to slip out, and Ireland knew him no more. His presence at Kinsale had no real influence on events.[144]

When there had been a difficulty about getting soldiers for Ireland in the spring of 1647 the officers in Saffron Walden[Pg 189] church, had shouted ‘Fairfax and Cromwell and we all go.’ Skippon was chosen, much against his will, but he never crossed the channel. It was not till March 1649 that Cromwell was appointed, and he hesitated to accept the command. He was ready to go where Parliament sent him, but could hope for no success unless the soldiers were satisfied as to their pay and arrears. He was much impressed with the importance of reducing Ireland, lest England should be attacked by Presbyterians and Papists at once. He would rather see the Cavaliers triumphant than the Scots, but a predominant Irish interest would be the most dangerous of all. The money difficulties were got over, and it was decided to send 12,000 men to Ireland, the regiments casting lots for the danger or honour. No individual was forced to go against his will, but those who refused were dismissed from the army, and their places easily filled by volunteers. The troubles with the Levellers followed, and it was not till July that Cromwell was ready to start. His first idea was to land in Munster, where the allegiance of Inchiquin’s troops was known to be shaken, but reinforcements were sent to Jones, which enabled him to win the battle of Rathmines. In the meantime Broghill, who had been for some time inactive and thought of joining Charles abroad, was gained over by Cromwell on the understanding that he was expected to fight only against the Irish.[145]

On July 10 Cromwell left London ‘in very noble equipage, with coaches and six horses apiece, his lifeguard of eighty, who had all been officers, and a great number of attendants.’ Many well-wishers accompanied him as far as Brentford. It was fifty years and a few weeks since Essex had started on his ill-fated expedition with the same title of Lord Lieutenant. Cromwell was at Bristol four days later, where he spent some days with his wife and other members of his family. A hundred thousand pounds, the want of which had[Pg 190] doubtless caused this delay, was despatched at the end of the month, and he then pushed on to Milford Haven, where he saw Monck, who probably dissuaded him from going with his whole force to Munster. Cromwell was on board ship on August 13, and ‘as sea-sick,’ says Hugh Peters, ‘as ever I saw a man in my life,’ but before sailing he had the news of Rathmines, which he described as ‘an astonishing mercy.’ He reached Dublin two days later, with about 3000 men in thirty-five vessels. Ireton, with a second and stronger division, contained in seventy-seven ships, went as far as the mouth of Youghal harbour, where he, perhaps, expected a welcome; but the pear was not yet ripe, and he was soon driven by stress of weather to Dublin. By the middle of September the whole force was assembled in and about the Irish capital.[146]

[Pg 191]

CHAPTER XXXI

CROMWELL IN IRELAND, 1649

Jones had pretty well cleared Dublin of all but Protestants, and it is, therefore, not surprising that the new Lord Lieutenant was received with much rejoicing. He made a speech, of which no full report is extant, promising favour and reward to all who helped ‘against the barbarous and bloodthirsty Irish, and all their adherents and confederates, for the propagating of the Gospel of Christ, the establishing of truth and peace, and restoring of this bleeding nation of Ireland to its former happiness and tranquillity.’ And the people shouted ‘We will live and die with you.’ When he had had a week to look about him, he found that profane swearing and drunkenness were prevalent, and issued a declaration to the citizens against them. These offences were forbidden both by civil and military law, and all officers and soldiers were ordered under the severest penalties to co-operate with the mayor in suppressing them. A separate declaration to the army recited the too frequent practice of ‘abusing, robbing, pillaging, and executing cruelties upon the country people.’ He was resolved, he said, to put down such wickedness by the most stringent enforcement of the articles of war, and officers found negligent would be cashiered. A free market was granted to all in every garrison, and ready money was to be always paid. A general protection was granted till January 1, during which time the inhabitants of the country would have time to make up their minds. Those who intended to plough and sow were to apply to the Attorney-General or other authorised persons for further protection. Some officers who appeared incorrigible were[Pg 192] actually got rid of, and proper discipline was henceforth established.[147]

Ormonde’s first care when he had rallied after Rathmines was to garrison Drogheda with about 2000 foot and 300 horse, the flower of his remaining force, and to victual it for a long siege. Ludlow and Bate say the majority of the garrison were English, but this has been denied by modern critics, and there is really no satisfactory evidence on the point. The choice of a Roman Catholic governor may be thought to indicate that the defenders were mainly Irish, but Sir Arthur Aston had been governor of Oxford under the late King’s immediate eye, and no Royalist would be likely to take offence at his appointment. Wood says he brought ‘the flower of the English veterans’ to Ireland. Aston was a brave soldier, and had made a good defence of Reading against Essex, but he was an unpopular man, and Clarendon, who was at Oxford during his command there, has little good to say of him. He lost a leg from the effects of a fall ‘when curvetting on horseback in Bullingdon Green before certain ladies.’ At Drogheda he had much trouble with ladies who insisted on corresponding with Jones. A boy was employed to carry letters, ‘whom, I fear, is of too small a size to be hanged.’ Ormonde did not think there was any serious plot, expressing an opinion that ‘woman is given much to make little factions.’ On September 2, Aston sent out men to seize the neighbouring castles, but Cromwell’s advanced parties were beforehand with him, and no outlying obstacle could be raised against his main body. Next day the infantry made its appearance with some small field-pieces, and the Boyne was forded at Oldbridge, but the garrison sallied forth and drove them back. In announcing this small success to Ormonde the governor hoped ‘shortly to understand of his Excellency’s march with a gallant army.’[148]

[Pg 193]

On August 31 Cromwell mustered a field force consisting of eight regiments of foot and six of horse, with some dragoons, in a field three miles north of Dublin. He marched next day and encamped next night at Ballygarth on the Nanny River, very near Julianstown, where the English forces had been routed eight years before. On September 3, Cromwell’s lucky day, he was close to Drogheda, where there was a week’s delay before the batteries could be got ready, and the heavy guns landed below the town. On the 7th, Aston made a successful sally, but without in any way interrupting the assailants’ preparations. On the morning of the 10th Cromwell summoned the town in the name of Parliament. ‘To the end,’ he wrote, ‘effusion of blood may be prevented, I thought fit to summon you to deliver the same into my hands to their use. If this be refused you will have no cause to blame me.’ Aston did refuse, and a cannonade was opened against the south-east angle of the town, one battery being against the east, and the other against the south side of St. Mary’s Church. The steeple fell, but the breach did not prove practicable until the next day. Some of the siege guns carried shot of sixty-four pounds weight, and the cannon of the defenders must have been quite overmatched. No regular approaches were necessary, and about five on the second day the breach was assaulted. The stormers were repulsed once, according to Cromwell and Ludlow, twice according to Royalist accounts. The general entered the breach himself at the head of a reserve of infantry, who carried the church and some trenches which the defenders had made inside the walls. These inner works really helped the assailants, for they prevented Aston from using his cavalry. The bank was too steep for the English horse, but the foot soldiers seized the entrenchments and drove a large part of the garrison ‘into the Mill-mount, a place very strong and of difficult access, being exceeding high, having a good graft and strongly palisaded; the governor, Sir Arthur Aston, and divers considerable officers being there, our men getting up to them were ordered by me to put all to the sword; and, indeed, being in the heat of action, I[Pg 194] forbade them to spare any that there were in arms in the town.’ This is Cromwell’s own account, and he estimates the slain at about 2000. A part of the defenders were driven across the bridge and as far as St. Sunday’s Gate, at the far end of the town, where a tower was occupied, as was another near the west gate. About a hundred took refuge in St. Peter’s Church tower, which was fired by Cromwell’s orders. The parties near the two gates surrendered next day, and in one case, where fatal shots had been fired, ‘the officers were knocked on the head, and every tenth man of the soldiers killed and the rest shipped for the Barbadoes; the soldiers in the other tower were all spared as to their lives only, and shipped likewise for the Barbadoes. I am persuaded that this is a righteous judgment of God upon these barbarous wretches, who have imbrued their hands in so much innocent blood, and that it will tend to prevent the effusion of blood for the future, which are the satisfactory grounds to such actions, which otherwise cannot but work remorse and regret.’ Sir Arthur Aston was known to be fond of money, and it was rumoured that much was hidden in his wooden leg. This turned out not to be the case, but 200 gold pieces were found in his belt. According to Wood’s account he was actually despatched with this wooden leg. Several friars were in the town, and they were all killed. That some others of the slain were not soldiers is at least highly probable, for Cromwell himself mentions ‘many inhabitants,’ and in this the case of Drogheda does not differ from a hundred others, in which no special blame rests on the general. Ormonde says not a word about women having suffered; but Bate, who was not in Ireland, states in a book published in the following year that ‘there was not any great respect had to either sex.’ The stories attributed to Thomas Wood, the great antiquary’s brother, rest entirely on hearsay evidence, and Thomas was a noted buffoon.[149]

[Pg 195]

That a garrison duly summoned should be put to the sword after the storming of their works was not contrary to the laws of war in those days. Ormonde speaks of ‘the book of Martyrs, and the relation of Amboyna,’ but the case of Magdeburg would have been more to the point. Ludlow says ‘The slaughter was continued all that day and the next, which extraordinary severity, I presume, was used to discourage others from making opposition,’ but he says nothing more, though he did not love Cromwell. ‘And truly I believe,’ wrote Oliver to Bradshaw, ‘this bitterness will save much effusion of blood.’ The charge that many were killed after quarter given may be founded on fact, but if quarter was anywhere promised it was by persons not authorised to give it, for Cromwell himself says that he forbade it immediately after entering the town. English and Irish alike were treated as accomplices in the Ulster massacre, though very few even of the latter could have had anything to say to it. Among those who escaped was Cornet Richard Talbot, afterwards Duke of Tyrconnel, who owed his safety to the humanity of Colonel John Reynolds. According to Hugh Peters the total number slain was 3552, the loss to the Parliamentarians being only sixty-four, while Cromwell estimates his killed at under a hundred, but with many wounded. Aston expected to be relieved, and was himself expected to hold out much longer. He complained that ammunition ran out fast, but it was certainly not exhausted when Cromwell forced the place, and Ormonde expressly states that there was enough for a long siege. He was not in a position to do anything, though he had about 3000 men, for they were demoralised by the Rathmines disaster, and decreased daily, either by going to their own homes, ‘or by the revolt of some officers and many private soldiers, the rest showing such dejection of courage, and upon all occasions of want, which are very frequent with us, venting their discontent in such dangerous words, that it was held unsafe to bring them within that distance of the enemy, as[Pg 196] was necessary to have kept him united, and consequently, one side of the town open to receive continual supplies.’ As many as forty-three troopers deserted in one batch. Colonel Mark Trevor, with a strong party of horse, was in charge of ammunition and provisions at Ardee, but was unable to approach Drogheda on the north side.[150]

Even before the loss of Drogheda, Ormonde saw clearly that his only chance was in an alliance with Owen Roe O’Neill, who could still dispose of 6000 foot and 500 horse. He wrote to him immediately after the battle of Rathmines, and a few days later sent John Leslie, Bishop of Raphoe, and Audley Mervyn to confer with him. They were followed by the ubiquitous Daniel O’Neill, who was believed to have influence with his silent uncle. Immediately before the attack on Drogheda, Charles II. wrote from St. Germains to the Irish general, urging him to return to his allegiance, and Father Thomas Talbot, an elder brother of the more famous Richard, was sent by him to Ireland. Talbot was directed by Ormonde to carry his letters to Owen O’Neill, along with others for his nephew, ‘and to proceed by the said Daniel his advice and direction, and not otherwise.’ The negotiations ended in a treaty, but this was not concluded until October 20, and a great deal had happened in the meantime. The terms finally agreed upon were that the Kilkenny peace should include Ulster, and that O’Neill should be general of that province with 6000 foot and 800 horse. In case of his death or removal, the provincial nobility and gentry were to nominate a successor for the approval of the King’s Lord Lieutenant. A part of the Ulster army co-operated with Ormonde, but O’Neill was already ill and unable to lead them himself after the capture of Drogheda.[151]

[Pg 197]

Ormonde had given directions to burn and abandon Dundalk and Trim, but the garrisons fled in too great haste, leaving their guns behind them. Having secured these important places Cromwell sent Venables to join Coote, while he turned his own steps southwards. Carlingford, which contained the largest magazine in Ulster, capitulated after some well-directed shots had been fired at Captain Fern’s frigate; seven cannon and a thousand muskets, with much powder and many pikes, fell into the victor’s hands. Newry also surrendered on articles. At Lisburn, Trevor with his cavalry surprised Venables’ camp by night and very nearly gained a complete victory, but the trained soldiers soon recovered from their panic, and re-formed in a position where horsemen could not reach them. Trevor had to fall back as far as the Bann, and Belfast capitulated soon afterwards, leaving guns and powder to the enemy. A large number of the Scotch inhabitants were driven out. Coote made himself master of Coleraine, and by the end of November Ormonde reported that Carrickfergus, Charlemont, and Enniskillen were the only considerable Ulster garrisons still in Royalist hands. Before that time Owen Roe O’Neill had died at Cloughoughter, in Cavan. In the previous May he had likened Ormonde to Baal, and rejoiced that he was one of those who had not bowed the knee; but he saw clearly that it would be necessary to join either the King’s or the Parliament’s party, though opposed to both, unless help came from abroad. He was driven to extremity, and could not otherwise support his army, which he regarded as the last hope of Ireland. It was with this object that he had dealings with Coote, Monck, and Jones, and was driven finally to unite with Ormonde, to whom he wrote only five days before his death. ‘Being now in my death-bed,’ he wrote, ‘I call my Saviour to witness that, as I hope for salvation, my resolution, ways, and intentions from first to last of these unhappy wars tended to no particular ambition or private interest of my own, notwithstanding what was or may be thought to the contrary, but truly and sincerely to the preservation of my religion, the advancement of his Majesty’s service, and just liberties[Pg 198] of this nation, whereof, and of my particular reality and willingness to serve your Excellency (above any other in this kingdom), I hope that God will permit me to give ample and sufficient testimony in the view of the world ere it be long.’ He concludes by recommending his son Henry to Ormonde’s care. As a soldier all accounts agree in praising O’Neill, whose word was always kept, and who is not charged with any acts of cruelty or unnecessary severity. Of his patriotism there can be no doubt, but of Ireland as a separate nation he seems to have had no definite idea. He was a Royalist, and his natural leaning would have been towards Ormonde as the special representative of the Crown. But he was above all things attached to the religion of Rome, and Rinuccini’s ban weighed heavily upon him. It was this that separated him so long from his natural ally, while it did not prevent him from helping Monck and Coote. ‘The Bishop of Raphoe and Sir Nicholas Plunket,’ wrote Daniel O’Neill, ‘have agreed upon an expedient about the excommunication which has so troubled that superstitious old uncle of mine in his sickness that I could render him to no reason.’ The expedient was a letter signed by Plunket and Barnewall on behalf of the nuncio’s opponents in the late Confederation, who agreed to petition the Pope to remove his censure, and also to write a sort of apology ‘in a loving and friendly manner’ to Rinuccini himself.[152]

After a few days’ rest in Dublin, Cromwell marched towards Wexford. Fortified posts near Delgany, at Arklow, ‘which was the first seat and honour of the Marquis of Ormonde’s family,’ and at Limerick, ‘the ancient seat of the Esmonds,’ were taken without firing a shot. Ferns and[Pg 199] Enniscorthy also surrendered without resistance, and on October 1 the army came before Wexford, where there was a garrison under Colonel David Synnott, who was an old adherent of Preston, and therefore not very popular with the townsmen, who had favoured the nuncio. Two days later a summons was sent in the usual terms ‘to the end effusion of blood may be prevented,’ and Synnott was willing to parley, but Cromwell refused any truce during negotiations, ‘because our tents are not so good a covering as your houses.’ It was arranged that four persons should come out under safe conduct, but while Cromwell was expecting them Castlehaven managed to introduce 1500 Ulster foot on the north side of the town, and Synnott then changed his mind. The safe conduct was withdrawn, and in the meantime Jones led a party of horse and foot round to the long point of Rosslare, at the end of which was a fort whose defenders at once took to the water and were all captured by the Parliamentary fleet. The weather was rough, and it took some days to land the siege train, but all was ready by the evening of the 10th. The battery was placed at the south-east corner of the town opposite the castle, which was outside the wall, Cromwell seeing that if it was once taken the town could make little further resistance. After nearly a hundred shots had been fired, ‘the governor’s stomach came down,’ and he sent out four representatives on safe conduct with written propositions, which Cromwell forwarded to Lenthall ‘for their abominableness, manifesting also the impudency of the men.’ The principal demands were that the inhabitants should for ever have liberty publicly to profess and practise the Roman Catholic religion, retaining all the churches and religious houses without interference, that Bishop French and his successors should have full jurisdiction in the diocese of Ferns, that the garrison should march out with flying colours, and be escorted to Ross with all their arms and other possessions, and that the townsmen should be guaranteed their municipal privileges, lives, and properties. Cromwell engaged to protect the civilians, to give private soldiers leave to go home, ‘with their wearing clothes,’ on condition[Pg 200] of bearing arms no more against Parliament, and to spare the lives of the officers, they remaining prisoners of war.[153]

Considering the state of affairs, Cromwell’s terms were not very hard, but there were divided counsels in Wexford. Synnott did not command confidence, and Ormonde, who appeared near the river, sent Sir Edmund Butler to supersede him with a further relief of 500 men. There was no truce during negotiations, and Captain James Stafford, who commanded in the castle, was so much alarmed that he surrendered his post before Synnott’s answer was given. The men on the nearest part of the town wall were panic-stricken when they saw what had happened, and the Cromwellians scrambled over the battlements with the help of their pikes. Sir Edmund Butler had just arrived, but had no time to ferry over his men, and was killed by a shot while attempting to rejoin them by swimming. Barricades and cables had been drawn across the streets, and the passage of the assailants was hotly disputed by the garrison and by many armed citizens. The final contest was in the market-place, and the total number slain between soldiers and townsfolk was not far short of 2000. The loss of the besiegers was trifling, perhaps not more than twenty. For this slaughter Cromwell is not personally liable as he is for Drogheda, and he expresses some regret for it, but not very much. He mentions two instances in which, as he was informed, the Wexford people showed little mercy to others. ‘About seven or eight score poor Protestants were put by them into an old vessel, which being, as some say, bulged by them, the vessel sank, and they were all presently drowned in the harbour. The other was thus: they put divers Protestants into a chapel (which since they have used for a mass-house, and in which one or more of their priests were now killed), where they were famished to death.’ A very large number of guns and several valuable ships were taken. As at Drogheda, little or no mercy was shown to priests or friars, the deaths of seven Franciscans being particularly recorded. As to the tradition of 300 women[Pg 201] being slaughtered, the story first appears in Macgeohegan’s history, published in 1758, and Bishop French, writing in 1673, made no mention of anything of the kind. A contemporary account says ‘There was more sparing of lives of the soldiery part of the enemy here than at Drogheda.’ An empty town remained in the victors’ hands.[154]

Less than a week after the capture of Wexford, Cromwell marched to New Ross, on the right bank of the Barrow, below its junction with the Nore. There was then no bridge, and Ormonde with Castlehaven and Lord Montgomery of Ards were able to ferry over 2500 men into the town, many of them under Cromwell’s very eyes. The governor was Lucas Taaffe, who made some show of resistance when Cromwell appeared and sent the usual summons ‘to avoid effusion of blood.’ Two days later a breach was effected, and Colonel Ingoldsby was chosen by lot to lead the stormers. Taaffe knew very well that the case was hopeless, and accepted the very liberal terms offered. The garrison were to march away with colours flying and with their arms, leaving the artillery behind, and ‘protection from the injury and violence of the soldiers’ was guaranteed to the inhabitants. Those who wished to depart with their goods were given three months to think it over. ‘For what you mention,’ wrote Cromwell, ‘concerning liberty of conscience, I meddle not with any man’s conscience, but if by liberty of conscience you mean a liberty to exercise the mass, I judge it best to use plain dealing, and to let you know, where the Parliament of England have power, that will not be allowed of.’ He told Lenthall that there was nothing to prevent the garrison from recrossing the river without his leave. About 500[Pg 202] English soldiers of the garrison, many of them from Munster, here joined Cromwell, as they had probably been long anxious to do. There was a considerable delay after this, for Oliver was determined before moving to make a satisfactory bridge for access to Kilkenny and the interior generally. Before the work was completed Cork and Youghal surrendered, and Inchiquin’s once formidable army practically ceased to exist.[155]

Lord Broghill had played a very important part in the earlier years of the civil war, his last considerable exploit being the relief of Youghal in September 1645. He was never on very cordial terms with Inchiquin, but could work with him as the champion of the Protestant interest in Munster. The scene changed when Inchiquin deserted the Parliament, and Ormonde was fain to ally himself with the Kilkenny Confederates. Broghill retired to Marston Bigot in Somersetshire, which his father had bought for him, and waited there for the times to disentangle themselves. The execution of Charles I. seems to have been too much for him, and the Royalist idea prevailed so far that he was preparing to go to Spa, nominally for the gout, but really to be within reach of Charles II. According to the Rev. Thomas Morrice, who is the sole and not very trustworthy authority for this passage of Broghill’s life, Cromwell visited him at this juncture, and offered him his choice between the Tower and a general’s command in Ireland. He accepted the latter on the understanding that he was not expected to fight against any but the Irish. It is at all events certain that he was with Cromwell not very long after his arrival in Ireland, and that he told Inchiquin that he served upon some such terms and would be glad to do him personal service, ‘though, perhaps, I might not believe it.’ The promise of a general’s commission is doubtful from what Ludlow says, but work was soon found for Broghill, who, in Cromwell’s own words had ‘a great interest in the men that came from Inchiquin.’ At the begin[Pg 203]ning of November 1649, he was at Cork and Youghal as a commissioner for Munster, along with Sir William Fenton, the two famous seamen Blake and Deane, and Colonel Phaire, who was on duty at the late King’s execution. The military authority was at first in Phaire’s hands, but a troop of reformadoes—that is, unemployed officers—was given to Broghill, and before Christmas he was in command of at least 1200 horse. Kinsale was the first Munster garrison to declare for Cromwell; Cork soon followed, and commissioners from the English inhabitants were with him before he left Ross. Their first request, ‘out of a sense of the former good service and tender care of the Lord of Inchiquin to and for them,’ was that he should enjoy his estate and have his arrears paid up to the last peace, and that an Act of oblivion should be passed in his favour. This article Cromwell refused to answer, but promised that Inchiquin’s defection should not be remembered to their prejudice, and that their charter should be renewed in its old form. Similar terms were given to the Youghal people, who abstained by Broghill’s advice from making any conditions. He informed Cromwell that he and his colleagues were received at Youghal ‘with all the real demonstrations of gladness an overjoyed people were capable of.’[156]

After the capture of Ross Cromwell lay there for about a month, his men being occupied in making a bridge of boats over the Barrow, below its junction with the Nore. He ordered the invalided soldiers in Dublin to march along the coast to Wexford, which they did to the number of 1200, of whom nearly one-third were cavalry. Many of them were but imperfectly recovered. At Glascarrig near Cahore Inchiquin set upon them with a greatly superior force, the detachment sent to meet them not arriving in time. ‘But it[Pg 204] pleased God,’ says Cromwell, ‘we sent them word by a nearer way, to march close and be circumspect,’ so that they were not entirely surprised. Inchiquin overtook their rear, but the passage was narrow between high sand-hills and the sea, so that the number of his cavalry was of comparatively little advantage. After a sharp fight the Dublin party were victorious, and pursued Inchiquin’s men for a short distance, after which they proceeded to Wexford without further molestation. Not many fell on either side, but Colonel Trevor, who had showed so much enterprise as a cavalry leader, was dangerously wounded.[157]

Cromwell was very ill during a part of his stay at Ross, but the bridge greatly impressed the Irish with a sense of his power as Cæsar’s had impressed the Germans in an earlier age. ‘A stupendous work,’ says the author of the ‘Aphorismical Discovery,’ ‘for there were two main rivers, Nore and Barrow, joining there unto one bed, and the sea-tide passing over the town in the said rivers six or seven miles, he was building this bridge upon this swift and boisterous-running tide-water with barrels, planks, casks and cables.’ Ormonde had a superior force in the neighbourhood, but the dissensions between his officers and between the English and Irish elements of his army made it impossible to risk a pitched battle. Taaffe made an unsuccessful attempt to destroy the unfinished bridge, and Cromwell lost no time in fortifying Rosbercon, on the Kilkenny bank. Ireton and Jones occupied Inistioge without fighting, but found the bridge at Thomastown broken down and the walled town garrisoned, while the bulk of Ormonde’s army retired towards Kilkenny. The road into Tipperary was, however, open from Inistioge, and Reynolds was detached with a body of cavalry to Carrick-on-Suir. While he was parleying with the garrison at one gate, a part of his men surprised the other and took more than a hundred prisoners, the remainder escaping in boats over the Suir. The castle, ‘one of the ancientest seats belonging to the Lord of Ormonde,’ made no further resistance, and Cromwell[Pg 205] with the main body of his army, having taken Knocktopher by the way, passed through Carrick towards Waterford, which he summoned on November 21.[158]

Waterford was unassailable from the left bank of the Suir, and Cromwell, like Mountjoy before him, had to cross at Carrick. Before the naval superiority of the Parliament could be made available it was necessary to secure the forts at Duncannon and Passage below the city. Duncannon had been in the hands of the Confederates since 1645, and was commanded by Captain Thomas Roche, a very incompetent officer. Jones was detached from Ross with 2000 men to besiege the place, and he took Ballyhack, commanding the ordinary communication between the Fort and Waterford. Parliamentary ships lay near, and seeing that Duncannon was in danger Ormonde sent Captain Edward Wogan to supersede Roche. As a deserter from the Parliamentary army Wogan fought with a rope round his neck, and he restored the courage of the garrison. Ormonde then sent Castlehaven to Passage opposite Ballyhack, whence he managed to get to Duncannon in a boat. After consultation with Wogan, Castlehaven returned, and that night embarked eighty horses without riders in boats, which slipped into Duncannon on the tide. Wogan mounted officers and picked men on the horses thus provided, and immediately attacked the Parliamentary camp. The appearance of cavalry where there had been none before seemed to indicate the approach of an army, and the siege was raised next morning. After this piece of service Ormonde made Castlehaven governor of Waterford with 1000 men, but the citizens refused to admit him or his soldiers.[159]

While Cromwell was threatening Waterford, Ormonde brought his whole army to Carrick, the recapture of which he left to Taaffe and Inchiquin, while he marched on with the tidal river between him and the Parliamentary host. The city was open on the river side, and there was no difficulty[Pg 206] in ferrying over 1500 Ulster soldiers with Lieut.-General Ferrall as governor. Jones had previously succeeded in occupying Passage, ‘a very large fort with a castle in the midst of it, having five guns planted in it, and commanding the river better than Duncannon.’ The garrison surrendered on condition of quarter only, and Ballyhack being already in Cromwell’s hands, Waterford was pretty thoroughly cut off from the sea. The attempt to recapture Carrick failed, perhaps for want of a good engineer, for the assailants’ mine exploded to their own injury, and without damaging the wall. Reynolds’s men spared their ammunition and defended themselves mainly with stones. The gates were burned, but quickly barricaded inside with rubble, and Inchiquin, having no stock of provisions, was forced to retreat with heavy loss. Ormonde on his return was very nearly captured, for he expected to find Carrick in the hands of friends, and had to ride twenty miles round to join his men at Clonmel. He met the Tipperary rustics flying in all directions with their portable goods, so as to escape being plundered by the soldiers.[160]

Ormonde said that if the weather ‘proved but as usual at this time of the year,’ Cromwell might be repulsed from Waterford. Two days later the siege was abandoned for this very reason, a great part of the men being sick, and Cromwell marched to Kilmacthomas on ‘as terrible a day’ as he had ever known. He found poor quarters, but in the morning was encouraged by a messenger from Broghill, who lay at Dungarvan, which had lately surrendered to him, with about twelve or thirteen hundred men. Michael Jones died at Dungarvan of ‘a pestilent and contagious spotted fever,’ contracted during a cold and wet march, and Cromwell lamented his loss both as a friend and as a public servant. The Parliamentary cause certainly owed him a great deal, though there is reason to believe that he did not approve of the execution of Charles I. At the moment Ferrall made an attempt to recover Passage, the loss of which made it very difficult to victual Duncannon, but Colonel Sankey was despatched with[Pg 207] 320 men from Cappoquin, and after a sharp fight succeeded in taking about the same number of prisoners. Ferrall retreated into Waterford, where Ormonde was himself present, though the mayor absolutely refused to let his troops cross the river, saying that an increase of the garrison would cause a famine in the town. It was proposed to quarter them in huts outside the walls, but even this was rejected, and Passage remained in the enemy’s hands, though an overwhelming force was ready to attempt its relief. Wogan was among the prisoners taken by Sankey, and Cromwell seriously thought of hanging him; but he was sent to Cork, whence he soon escaped, and went to England to seek the adventure which has made him famous.[161]

When Cromwell broke up from before Waterford on December 2, he had not more than 3000 effective infantry in the field, the garrisons taking up many and sickness accounting for more. Ferrall had as many men in Waterford as there were besieging him, and the whole of Ormonde’s army was ten or twelve thousand including O’Neill’s men, who were at least 7000 and all effective, ‘these being the eldest sons of the Church of Rome, most cried up and confided in by the clergy.’ The rest were old English, Irish, some Protestants, some Papists, and other popish Irish. The interests of Ormonde, Clanricarde, Castlehaven, Muskerry, Taaffe, and the rest provided a formidable force, who could live on the country, for there were scarce twenty natives favourable to Parliament. ‘God hath blessed you,’ Cromwell wrote, ‘with a great tract of land in longitude, along the shore, yet it hath but a little depth into the country,’ and the inhabitants were so robbed by their neighbours that they could give little help. Therefore it was still necessary to send money and stores from England, and to maintain a strict naval blockade, lest supplies should reach the enemy from abroad. But Ormonde had to disperse his men in winter[Pg 208] quarters for want of means to support them in the field, and Cromwell did the same, his headquarters being at Youghal. He spent the short winter days in visiting Cork and other Munster garrisons. The tradition is that he went to Glengariffe, where the ruins of ‘Cromwell’s bridge’ may still be seen, but there seems to be no evidence of his having gone further west than Kinsale. His applications to Parliament for help were not in vain, for 1500 fresh men were sent to Dublin about this time, and a few weeks later Henry Cromwell came to Youghal with further reinforcements, followed by thirteen ships laden with oats, beans, and pease. The sick men recovered with rest and dry lodgings, and by the end of January Cromwell was able to take the field again.[162]

Broghill, who was now Master of the Ordnance, left Youghal about the middle of November with 500 foot and 300 horse. A fort with three guns on the Corkbeg peninsula partially commanded Cork harbour, and had annoyed Blake’s ships. Captain Courthope, ‘who knew not only the commander of it, but every particular soldier in it, so well persuaded and terrified them that they delivered up the fort’ without fighting. At Belvelly, commanding the strait between the mainland and the island on which Queenstown now stands, Colonel Pigott had a strong castle and three Irish companies. Broghill had formerly ‘particularly well known’ this officer, and in half an hour’s private conversation satisfied him that it was a national quarrel. At Cork, Broghill found 700 armed inhabitants and 500 foot soldiers, who received him ‘with as great a joy as is almost imaginable.’ A messenger came from Kinsale to offer that town to the Parliament, and a detachment was sent strong enough to check the garrison of the fort. At Bandon, Colonel Courtney, ‘who had ever been my particular friend,’ stood for the King; but the townsmen and most of the soldiers were English Protestants, and he could but surrender. Broghill armed the inhabitants, and[Pg 209] nearly all the officers and soldiers ultimately joined him. The people showed ‘at least an equal joy to our reception at Cork.’ The bridge at Bandon enabled Broghill to march straight to the south side of Kinsale harbour, where Rupert had greatly strengthened the fort, which was held by 400 Irish under a Scotch governor. The works were too strong to attack before the return of Blake’s fleet, but the regiment inside was commanded by ‘an Irish Protestant, a great sufferer by the rebellion; an ancient dependant of our [the Boyle] family, and one particularly recommended to my care by my father,’ who set the governor aside, and persuaded the soldiers to capitulate. After this Baltimore, Castlehaven, Crookhaven, and Timoleague surrendered without giving Broghill the trouble of a march, and Mallow did the same, thus securing the only bridge over the Blackwater, except that at Cappoquin, which was already in Parliamentary hands. Colonel Crosby was detached to see what could be done in Kerry. Cromwell might well say that Broghill had a great interest in the men and in the districts which were lately Inchiquin’s, and that there could have been no rebellion if every county had contained an Earl of Cork.[163]

While Cromwell was building his bridge at New Ross, Dalziel was closely besieged in Carrickfergus by Coote and Venables. It was the most important place in Ulster, and the Scotch veteran made good terms for himself and his men, agreeing to surrender on December 13 if not relieved in the meantime. A few days before that date Sir George Monro with Lords Montgomery and Clandeboye, collected a force which Coote, on the report of deserters, estimated at 2000 foot and 800 horse, their object being to relieve Carrickfergus. On December 1 they were at Comber and next day at Newtownards. After a good deal of manœuvring Coote took up his quarters at Lisburn, while Monro crossed the Laggan somewhere between that place and Moira.[Pg 210] On their return upon the Antrim side of the river, Coote allowed them to pass him, and then attacked their rear ‘upon a boggy pass on the plain of Lisnesreane.’ Sir Theophilus Jones, who had come out of Lisburn with his cavalry, met with little resistance, and during a pursuit of ten miles over 1000 were killed with scarcely any loss to the victors. Monro and Montgomery fled to Charlemont, most of their Scots followers leaving them, and Carrickfergus was then surrendered in due course.[164]

Rinuccini having departed and O’Neill being dead, the Irish were as sheep having no shepherd. Stubborn resistance was made in detail, but there was very little concerted action after Cromwell’s arrival. The remains of the Confederacy still adhered to Ormonde, but it became evident after the last peace that he could never rally the native population. Under these circumstances twenty bishops, with the procurators of three others, the abbot of Holy Cross and the Provincials of the Dominicans and Franciscans, met at Clonmacnoise on December 4, of their own mere motion as they were careful to set forth. After some days’ deliberation they announced that nothing could be done without unity, and that past differences must be laid aside. It was, they said, the evident intention of Cromwell and his masters to root out the Catholic religion, which could only be done by getting rid of the people and recolonising the country, ‘witness the numbers they have already sent hence for the tobacco islands and put enemies in their places.’ Cromwell had told the governor of Ross that he meddled with no man’s conscience, but that a liberty to exercise the mass would nevertheless not be allowed of. This was naturally quite enough for the clergy, and doubtless for most laymen also. The formal decrees of Clonmacnoise were embodied in four articles. By the first fasting and prayer were ordered ‘to withdraw from this nation God’s anger, and to render them capable of his mercies[Pg 211].’ By the second the people were warned that no mercy or clemency could be expected ‘from the common enemy commanded by Cromwell by authority from the rebels of England.’ By the third the clergy were ordered under severe penalties to preach unity, ‘and we hereby manifest our detestation against all such divisions between either provinces or families, or between old English and old Irish, or any of the English or Scotch adhering to his Majesty.’ The last decree was one of excommunication against the highwaymen called Idle Boys, and against all who relieved them. Clergymen were forbidden on pain of suspension to give them the Sacrament or to bury them in consecrated ground.[165]

[Pg 212]

CHAPTER XXXII

CROMWELL IN IRELAND, 1650

In their published utterances the bishops were careful to say nothing alarming to Protestants, and to lay stress upon the royalism or loyalty of those for whom they spoke. In writing to Rome they were silent about the King, but urged the necessity of union among Catholics. Ormonde, who had no illusions, thought it much that there had been no public demand for his own removal; but this too was to come later. He knew that Antrim had been intriguing to obtain such a declaration, and he begged the King to recall him before his position became quite untenable. Charles directed him to hold on as long as possible, and to leave Ireland when he was finally convinced that nothing more could be done.[166]

The printed proceedings of the Clonmacnoise prelates reached Cromwell at Youghal, and he lost no time in answering it. The task of uniting clergy and laity, he said, was only necessary because the distinction had been invented by ‘the Antichristian Church’ of Rome, and maintained by her priests as the foundation of their own power. Their royalism was a ‘fig-leaf of pretence,’ whereas they really fought for their own supremacy. Cromwell had a right to say that they began the war, but he much exaggerated the goodness of the terms on which English and Irish had lived before the outbreak. No doubt there were some friendships, but all competent observers had long realised that the Ulster settlement would be disturbed whenever the children of the dispossessed[Pg 213] natives had the chance. As to liberty of conscience, he took his stand upon the purely English ground that the mass had long been prohibited by law, and that he could not extirpate what had no root. He reiterated his statement to the governor of Ross and said plainly, ‘I shall not, where I have power, and the Lord is pleased to bless me, suffer the exercise of the mass where I can take notice of it.... As for the people, what thoughts they have in matters of religion in their own breasts I cannot reach; but think it my duty if they walk honestly and peaceably, not to cause them in the least to suffer for the same.’ He defended the raising of money by mortgaging lands which rebels would forfeit, but denied that there was any intention to extirpate the people. He defied anyone to give an instance since his arrival in Ireland of ‘one man not in arms, massacred, destroyed, or banished’ with impunity. Those who had been exiled to the West Indies were all in fact liable to be put to the sword according to the laws of war. All who had not been actors in the rebellion should be spared and protected. ‘And having said this,’ he concluded, ‘and purposing honestly to perform it,—if this people shall headily run on after the counsels of their prelates and clergy and other leaders, I hope to be free from the misery and desolation and blood and ruin that shall befall them; and shall rejoice to exercise utmost severity against them.’ Cromwell’s ideas about toleration were in advance of his age, but his knowledge of Ireland before 1641 was derived from the published histories of May and Temple.[167]

When Lady Fanshawe joined her husband, a few weeks before Cromwell’s landing, she found Cork an agreeable place of residence enough, and so it remained for about six months. She lived in the old Augustinian Friary called the Red Abbey, which then belonged to Michael Boyle, Dean of Cloyne, who vied with Inchiquin and Roscommon in civility to her. She calls the latter Lord Chancellor, but he is not[Pg 214] generally included in the list. ‘My Lord of Ormonde had a very good army, and the country was seemingly quiet.’ And so it continued outwardly for some time, though Inchiquin’s power had been gradually wasting away since Rathmines. Suddenly one night, at the beginning of November, Lady Fanshawe was roused from her bed by the sound of cannon, and by screams and cries outside. Opening the window, she saw a crowd, who informed her that they were ‘all Irish stripped and wounded and turned out of the town by Colonel Jeffries.’ Hurrying off to the Colonel she reminded him of her husband’s former civilities to him, which he handsomely acknowledged, and at once granted a free pass. She passed ‘through thousands of naked swords’ with her family, 1000l. in cash and other light property, and got to Kinsale where she was safe for the moment. Cromwell was much annoyed at Fanshawe’s papers having thus escaped him.[168]

The Parliamentary managers were alarmed by the negotiations of Charles with the Scots. They knew, too, that Fairfax could hardly be trusted to lead an attack on the Presbyterian kingdom, and they resolved to recall Cromwell. The letter was written on January 8, but it did not reach him until he was already in the field again, and he thought proper to treat the reports of its coming as Nelson treated the signal at Copenhagen. On January 29 he set out from Youghal with twelve troops of horse, three troops of dragoons, and between two and three hundred foot. Reynolds and Ireton, with about the same number of horse and dragoons and 2000 foot, were sent to Carrick to threaten Ormonde’s quarters at Kilkenny. Cromwell himself marched towards Mitchelstown, took Kilbenny Castle, Clogheen, and Rehill, near Cahir, and went from there to Fethard. The last-named walled town surrendered after a night’s discussion ‘upon terms which we usually call honourable; which I was the willinger to give, because I had little above two hundred[Pg 215] foot, and neither ladders nor guns nor anything else to force them.’

The besiegers had not fired a single shot. The honourable terms were that the garrison should march away with arms and baggage, and that the inhabitants, including priests, should be fully protected. Some Ulster foot at Cashel, hearing of Cromwell’s arrival at Fethard, ran away in confusion, and he protected the townsfolk at their own request. He then went onto Callan, which he found already in Reynolds’s hands. The garrison of two castles ‘refusing conditions seasonably offered were put all to the sword.’ Those in a larger castle surrendered, and were allowed to march away without their arms. Among the prisoners taken in a skirmish was one of those who had betrayed Enniscorthy, and he was hanged. Some Irish gentlemen had feasted the garrison and sent in women to sell them spirits. When most of the soldiers were drunk the enemy rushed in and killed all, except four who had been bribed to open the gates. Colonel Cooke, the governor of Wexford, soon retook Enniscorthy by storm, and in his turn put all the garrison to the sword. Reynolds was despatched to take Knocktopher, and after a fortnight in the field, Cromwell returned to Fethard, ‘having good plenty of horsemeat and man’s meat’ in that rich district. Ireton took Ardfinane, of which Henry II. himself had chosen the site, and which was important to bring guns ‘ammunition, and other things’ from Youghal and Cappoquin. Cromwell came before Cahir, which was surrendered without costing a man. He was told that it had stood an eight weeks’ siege against Essex, but that most incompetent of heroes really took it in two days. Kiltinan, Goldenbridge and Dundrum were also taken, and the county of Tipperary submitted to a contribution of 1500l.[169]

The regicide John Hewson was governor of Dublin with[Pg 216] a numerous garrison, consisting chiefly of sick and wounded. A division of these half-recovered invalids had won the fight at Glascarrig and joined Cromwell, and by the end of the year a good many more were fit for service, and some reinforcements had also arrived from England. Kildare, the hill of Allen, Castle Martin and other places were occupied, but Kilmeague was found too strong to attack without artillery. When his provisions were spent Hewson returned to Dublin, where he received a curious proposition from the strong garrison of Ballisonan or Ballyshannon near Kilcullen. This he describes as ‘having double works and double moats full of water, one within another, and a mount with a fort upon it, most of the officers with me esteeming the taking of it to be unfeazable.’ After the rout at Rathmines some of Ormonde’s fugitive cavalry had summoned this formidable stronghold, which surrendered to them under the impression that Dublin was taken. The defenders now offered to join the Parliament, on condition of being made a regiment with their own officers, liberty of religion, and two priests as chaplains. Their arrears since May were to be paid, Taaffe and Dillon to be excluded from any accommodation with the Parliamentary party. In fact, they preferred Cromwell to Ormonde, which shows how desperate the latter’s position had become. Such terms were of course unacceptable, and Hewson attacked Ballisonan with a force of 2000 foot and 1000 horse, with two guns and a mortar. An entrenched battery was erected, but the place capitulated before any breach had been made. Hewson was glad to give easy terms, as Castlehaven was at Athy, and might make an attempt to raise the siege. The garrison marched out with the honours of war, Maryborough and Kilmeague were abandoned by the Irish, and all Kildare except the extreme south was in Hewson’s power.[170]

After consulting the Commissioners of Trust, Ormonde allowed agents to meet at Kilkenny in January for the dis[Pg 217]cussion of grievances affecting the different districts, but nothing was reduced to writing, and there were, as he expected, no results. The agents proposed an adjournment to Ennis, and to this he agreed. The approach of Cromwell’s forces on the south and of Hewson’s on the north had doubtless something to say to this, and the plague which began to rage in the town still more. Cromwell made a strong reconnaissance towards Kilkenny, where a Captain Tickle had been bribed or in some other way induced to undertake that one of the gates should be opened, but the plot was discovered and the captain hanged; so that Cromwell had to retire. In spite of the plague and of enemies within and without, Castlehaven used to go out fox-hunting in the early morning. Ormonde met him in the field, told him that it was decided to withdraw into Clare, and appointed him, much to his disgust, general of Leinster. Ormonde himself went to Limerick during the first week in February, and was not destined to see Kilkenny again until after the Restoration. Cromwell, having failed in the plot with Tickle, waited patiently and let the plague do his work. Castlehaven had one success, surprising Athy and taking Hewson’s garrison of 700 men, but he found the place untenable. ‘Not knowing,’ he writes, ‘what to do with my prisoners, I made a present of them to Cromwell, desiring him by letter to do the like to me ... but he little valued my civility, for in a very few days after he besieged Gowran, where Colonel Hammond commanded, and the soldiers mutinying and giving up the place, he caused Hammond with some English officers to be shot to death.’ Cromwell’s own account confirms this, and he adds that Hammond was ‘a principal actor in the Kentish insurrection,’ and so not entitled to mercy more than Lucas or Lisle. A priest who acted as chaplain to the Roman Catholic soldiers was hanged. ‘I trouble you with this the rather because this was the Lord of Ormonde’s own regiment.’ At Gowran Cromwell was joined by Hewson, who had taken Castledermot, Lea, Kilkea, and other castles in the meantime, he himself having taken Thomastown. Castlehaven did not find himself strong enough to meet Hewson in the field. Lord[Pg 218] Dillon promised to join him with about 3000 men, but they never came, and all he could do was to provision Kilkenny and leave it with a garrison of 1000 foot and 200 horse. Soon afterwards an Ulster regiment, which was nearly half his army, deserted on account of the plague, saying that they were ready to fight against men but not against God. Having tried to relieve Kilkenny in vain he gave orders to the governors of the town and castle to make the best terms they could, and not to attempt to hold the latter after the former had surrendered. Cromwell and Hewson corresponded about this time by letters enclosed in balls of wax, so that the messenger might swallow them if necessary. Some of these reached Castlehaven, but only served to show him that he was hopelessly overmatched.[171]

Cromwell approached Kilkenny by Bennet’s Bridge and sent in his summons on March 22. Sir Walter Butler, a cousin of Ormonde’s, was governor of the town, and briefly replied that he held it for the King. A battery with three guns was accordingly planted at St. Patrick’s Church, and on March 25 about a hundred shot struck the wall near the castle. An attempt to carry the breach failed with the loss of a captain and twenty or thirty men, the garrison having erected earthworks and palisades inside. At the same time a thousand men were detached to attack the Irish town near the cathedral, where the wall was but weakly defended by the townsmen, and the Cromwellians entered with a loss of only three or four men. After this, the walled portion of the town on the other side of the Nore was easily taken, and the victors endeavoured to enter the main city over St. John’s Bridge, but they were driven back with a loss of forty or fifty men. In the meantime fresh guns were brought up, and the mayor sent to represent the difficult position of the citizens. No doubt, he wrote, Cromwell would be willing to grant them fair terms, but they were in the power of the garrison, and so[Pg 219] ‘in danger of ruin as well from our own party as from that of your Honour’s,’ and it was reasonable that the soldiers should be included. To avoid further loss, and perhaps to get away from the plague, Cromwell after some discussion acquiesced in this view, and on the next day Butler saw that further resistance would be useless. Considering that Kilkenny had been the very centre of the lately powerful Confederacy, the terms granted were liberal enough. The garrison marched out with the honours of war, surrendering their arms two miles out of town and then going where they pleased. The citizens submitted to a payment of 2000l. in two instalments, in consideration of which Cromwell had ‘made it death for any man to plunder.’ Those who wished to remove themselves or their property might do so, ‘none excepted,’ within three months. There was no armistice during the negotiations, and the garrison of Cantwell Castle, now called Sandford’s Court—‘very strong, situated in a bog, well furnished with provisions of corn’—surrendered, though specially ordered by Sir Walter Butler to abandon their post and strengthen the scanty garrison of Kilkenny. They were allowed to go beyond sea.[172]

Leaving the plague-stricken city with a small garrison, Cromwell went to Carrick. ‘The goodness of God,’ says a contemporary newswriter, ‘was exceedingly manifested in preventing the plunder of the place, which must needs have hazarded the army by infection.’ None of the soldiers, in fact, suffered, which was ‘the Lord’s own doing and marvellous in our eyes.’ The clergy were not in any way excepted from the terms granted to the citizens, and there is no evidence that violence was done to any priests. But the churches suffered terribly, Bishop Ledred’s beautiful painted windows, which even Bale had spared, were broken in pieces, and Thomas Earl of Ormonde’s splendid tomb was totally destroyed.[Pg 220] A special interest attaches to the fate of the bishop, the learned David Rothe, who had opposed Rinuccini. There is nothing to show that he suffered from violence, but he was seventy-eight years old, and it is not surprising that he died in great discomfort, and in concealment. Bishop Lynch, who wrote from Clonfert in August, says he was stripped and mocked by the soldiers, but allowed to enter the nearest house, where he died within three weeks of old age and disease. Archbishop Fleming, who was also in Ireland, and who wrote in June, says much the same thing.[173]

In the meantime Ennisnag Castle was taken, ‘where were gotten a company of rogues which had revolted from Colonel Jones. The soldiers capitulated for life and their two officers were hanged for revolting.’ Adjutant-General Sadleir, with two guns, took all the castles in the Suir valley from Clonmel to Waterford without resistance except at Poulakerry, five miles below the former town. This was taken by assault, thirty or forty being killed, ‘and the rest remaining obstinate were fired in the castle.’ On April 27 Cromwell came before Clonmel, and offered favourable terms, which were promptly rejected by the governor, Hugh Boy O’Neill, a nephew of Owen Roe, who had about 1500 Ulster men with him. O’Neill, whom Cliffe describes as ‘an old surly Spanish soldier,’ had expected to be attacked as far back as February, and Ormonde had written from Ennis at the beginning of March to say that he would ‘draw all the forces of the kingdom into a body for the town’s relief.’ But he could do nothing, for the Commissioners of Trust were more anxious to thwart him than Cromwell, and would not allow a levy to be made in the county of Limerick. An attempt to send an expedition from the county of Cork was foiled by Broghill, and Clonmel was left to its fate. Preston had promised, but failed, to send ammunition from Waterford, and with Carrick in an enemy’s hand it is not easy to see how he could have done so. O’Neill and the[Pg 221] mayor, John White, made a last appeal to Ormonde. The long threatened attack had come at last, and the preservation of the town was almost Ireland’s last hope. ‘It is,’ they wrote, ‘our humble suit that the army, if in any reasonable condition, may march night and day to our succour.’ But no such army was available, and Cromwell planted his battery without hindrance. Reynolds and Theophilus Jones had a force in the field sufficient to prevent Castlehaven from giving any trouble. Approaches were made from the north side of the town, and there were many sallies and much fighting before the breach was practicable. A comparison of extant accounts fortified by local tradition seems to indicate that the spot was near a gate which stood a little to the eastward of St. Mary’s Church. The assault was made about eight in the morning of May 9, and the storming party entered without difficulty, but found that their work was still to do. O’Neill had manned the houses and erected two breastworks of ‘dunghills, mortar, stones and timber,’ making a lane about eighty yards inwards from the breach with a masked battery at the end. The ‘British Officer,’ who got his facts ‘not only from officers and soldiers of the besiegers,’ but also from the besieged, describes what followed. The stormers poured in and found themselves caught in a trap. Those in front cried ‘Halt,’ and those behind ‘Advance,’ ‘till that pound or lane was full and could hold no more.’ Two guns hailed chain-shot upon this dense mass, while a continual fire was kept up from the houses and the breastworks. Volleys of stones were thrown, and great pieces of timber hurled from slides which O’Neill’s ingenuity had provided, ‘so that in less than an hour’s time about a thousand men were killed in that pound, being atop one another.’ Colonel Culham, who led the stormers, and several other officers were among the slain, and the survivors were driven out again through the breach. Contemporary accounts estimate Cromwell’s total loss at Clonmel at somewhere from 1500 to 2500. This repulse, said Ireton afterwards, was ‘the heaviest we ever endured either in England or here.’ His own regiment lost most of all. It is stated that Major Fennell, who commanded the few[Pg 222] cavalry within the town, had plotted, like Tickle at Kilkenny, to open one of the gates. This was certainly believed at the time, but if there was such a plot it came to nothing.[174]

O’Neill had not ammunition to continue the defence, and he knew that there was no hope of relief. About 9 o’clock the same night he slipped out quietly by the bridge and made his way to Waterford, advising the mayor to make the best terms he could. White accordingly capitulated both for the inhabitants and for the garrison. All arms and ammunition in the town were surrendered, the civil population being guaranteed protection ‘for life and estate, from all plunder and violence of the soldiery.’ Next morning the besiegers marched in, and though Cromwell was angry at being outwitted, the conditions were kept. The garrison were pursued and stragglers cut off, amongst whom there were probably some women and at least one priest. On reaching Waterford admission was denied by Preston to O’Neill’s men. There was plague both in his camp and in the city, and after a time he ordered his foot soldiers to shift for themselves. He and Fennell, with the horse, made their way to Limerick.[175]

Inchiquin was in Kerry in January, whence he invaded Limerick with three regiments of cavalry, sweeping away the cattle and devastating most of the county. Broghill and Henry Cromwell fell upon his camp towards the end of March, and drove him across the Shannon ‘with more cows than horses.’ Inchiquin’s men were chiefly English, and some of[Pg 223] the officers were shot as deserters from the Parliament. After this Broghill joined Cromwell, who was then preparing to attack Clonmel, and was detached by him to deal with a force of 4000 foot and 300 horse which had been raised in Kerry, chiefly by the exertions of Boetius Egan, Bishop of Ross, an Observant friar promoted by Rinuccini. The Irish, bent on relieving Clonmel, advanced to Macroom, and garrisoned Carrigadrohid Castle on the Lee, which Broghill reached on April 8. He had 1500 cavalry, and hurried on, leaving a like number of foot to guard his rear. He seems to have had no guns with him, but the Irish probably thought he had, for they burned Muskerry’s castle at Macroom, and assembled in the park. They were raw levies and probably badly armed, for they were routed in a very short time, ‘though in a place,’ says Broghill, ‘the worst for horse ever I saw, and where one hundred musketeers might have kept off all the horse of Ireland.’ Several hundred were killed, and among the prisoners were the bishop and Lord Roche’s son, the high sheriff of Kerry, who was in equal authority with him. Carrigadrohid was taken by parading pieces of timber with teams of oxen, as if they were guns. ‘I gave orders,’ says Broghill, ‘that if the garrison in it delivered it not up, we should hang the bishop before it. The former not being done the latter was.... The bishop was wont to say there was no way to secure the English but by hanging them. That which was his cruelty became his justice.’ The castle was then surrendered on fair terms, and Broghill went back to the siege of Clonmel.[176]

Cromwell quitted Ireland on May 26, leaving Ireton as his deputy. His last extant letter before going was to Hewson, in favour of young Lord Moore, son of the brave soldier who was killed at Portlester, and grandson of Lord Chancellor Loftus. Moore had fought against Cromwell, who nevertheless ordered that he should be ‘fairly and civilly treated,[Pg 224] and that no incivility or abuse be offered unto him by any of the soldiery, either by restraining his liberty or otherwise; it being a thing which I altogether disprove and dislike that the soldiers should intermeddle in civil affairs farther than they are lawfully called upon.’ Necessity afterwards devised the major-generals, but it was to civil justice, to a Matthew Hale rather than a Desborough, that Cromwell looked for real improvement. It was a crime, he said, ‘to hang a man for six and eightpence, and I know not what—to hang for a trifle and commit murder.’ In Ireland particularly much might be done for the poor people by the cheap and impartial administration of justice. They had suffered more by the oppression of the great than any ‘in that which we call Christendom. And indeed they are accounted the bribingest people that are, they having been inured thereto.’ And he rightly considered that the best guarantee for purity was to pay good fixed salaries to the judges and to get rid of the fees and perquisites which had been a ‘colour to covetous practices.’[177]

Some papers, which Broghill thought important, were found in Bishop Egan’s possession. An anonymous correspondent of Hyde’s says one of them was a letter in which Inchiquin proposed during the latter part of 1649 to go over to Cromwell. Carte, without giving his authority, says that some such letter was forged by Antrim, who was perhaps tricky enough to do it, and the editor of the Clarendon State Papers adopted Carte’s account. Probability seems against Inchiquin having made any such overtures, but his position after Rathmines was very uncomfortable, for his men left him and he knew that the Irish would always hate him for his proceedings at Cork, Cashel, and elsewhere. He admitted that he had talked too freely to one of the enemy’s trumpeters, and it may be that he asked questions which gave rise to the idea that he was[Pg 225] wavering. But in April 1650, when Kilkenny had fallen and Ormonde had no army in the field, Protestant Royalists grew tired of the hopeless struggle, and Cromwell was ready enough to meet them halfway. Nor did Ormonde make any difficulties. Sir Robert Sterling, Colonel Daniell, and Michael Boyle, Dean of Cloyne, made the first advances ‘on behalf of the Protestant party in Ireland now under the command or obedience of the Lord Marquis of Ormonde.’ They were all, whether soldiers or civilians, allowed to go where they pleased on engaging not to act against the Parliament, taking all their movable property except horses, arms, and ammunition, and even these they might sell to the army or to English Protestants. Questions of land were reserved for the decision of Parliament, and until that was given were referred to the Commissioners for Revenue, and those who gave assurance of fidelity to the Parliament might enjoy their estates in the meantime. Colonel Wogan and the officer who helped him to escape from Cork were the only persons excepted. Lord Montgomery surrendered at Enniskillen, Sir Thomas Armstrong at Trim, and Colonel Daniell at Doneraile. Dean Boyle had strict orders not to make any overtures on behalf of Ormonde or Inchiquin, but Cromwell nevertheless sent them both passes to go beyond seas. Admiral Penn, whose squadron lay in the Shannon, was directed to make it easy for any of the Protestants who came in his way. Ormonde contemptuously rejected the safe conduct, which was civil enough in point of form, adding that if he ever had to return the compliment he would not use it ‘to debauch any that commanded’ under Cromwell. Inchiquin was angry, but his wife had already been allowed to depart with her family and servants under convoy to Middleburgh.[178]

[Pg 226]

CHAPTER XXXIII

ORMONDE’S LAST STRUGGLES, 1650

The Anglo-Irish Catholics had been drawn into the war against their will in many cases, and in many others only in the hopes of obtaining religious toleration. They were genuine Royalists, though the interests of the sovereign did not always seem to be theirs. But the Celts cared extremely little for the Crown and a great deal for the Church; even more perhaps for the land which they had lost. Rinuccini’s whole influence went to widen the difference between the two sections. The dominant faction among the clergy were quite ready to submit to a foreign protector, and Ormonde’s last struggles were with the bishops. The Clonmacnoise decrees having failed to secure union, he summoned twenty-four prelates along with the Commissioners of Trust to meet him at Limerick, whither he went after finally leaving Kilkenny. They met accordingly on March 8, and five days later presented him with a paper of advice. They suggested that a Privy Council should be appointed consisting of ‘peers and others, natives of this kingdom, at once spiritual and temporal,’ to sit daily with the Lord Lieutenant and determine all weighty affairs. The answer to this was easy: that the appointment of Privy Councillors belonged to the King alone, and that in the actual condition of affairs the Commissioners of Trust were quite Council enough. There were vague charges of preferring Protestants to Catholics, and suggestions made as to the rendering of accounts and the administration of justice, very suitable for peaceful times, but not at all applicable to the desperate state of affairs really existing. Ormonde’s immediate object was to place a garrison in Limerick, and there all was refused to him, Lord Kilmallock,[Pg 227] Catholic though he was, being imprisoned by the citizens for quartering part of his own troop within the walls by the Marquis’s orders. Some of the bishops made a faint attempt to reconcile the townsmen; but Ormonde went away to Loughrea on March 18, and the prelates and Commissioners followed him thither next day. It had been represented to him by some of them that all would be right if he would only get rid of Inchiquin; while others told the latter that he, as a chief of the ancient Irish, was the proper person to command, if only he would separate from Ormonde. The two lords compared notes, and easily perceived that the real object in view was to get rid of them both.[179]

By the fourth article of his agreement with Owen Roe O’Neill, Ormonde was bound to give the command in Ulster to the person nominated by the nobility and gentry of that province, who assembled for that purpose at Belturbet in March, under the presidency of Eugene Swiney, who had been Bishop of Kilmore since 1628. Antrim, who had already been in communication with Cromwell and was soon to be in alliance with Ireton, was a candidate, and had many supporters among the officers. It was thought that Sir George Monro and his Scots might follow him, though they would dislike an Irish and especially a clerical general. Hugh O’Neill, who would have been by far the fittest man, was absent in Munster; and Daniel O’Neill was practically disqualified by being a Protestant. The other candidates were Sir Phelim O’Neill, who had never shone as a soldier, Owen Roe’s son Henry, General Ferrall, and Bishop Macmahon of Clogher. The bishop professed no great anxiety for the post, but there seems little doubt that he left no stone unturned. These intrigues were successful, and Ormonde signed his commission on April 1. He was, says the ‘British Officer,’ ‘a great politician, but no more a soldier fit to be a general than one of Rome’s cardinals.’

Before the end of April, Monro surrendered Enniskillen to Coote ‘for 500l. and other trivial things.’ At the beginning[Pg 228] of May the Bishop began his active campaign. Toome, at the foot of Lough Neagh, was surprised, and, though it was retaken not long after, this prevented Coote from besieging Charlemont; and the Irish army got between his garrison at Londonderry and that of Venables at Coleraine. A council of war was held at Loughgall in Armagh to decide whether the attack should be on the Belfast district or on Londonderry. According to the ‘British Officer,’ the latter course was taken owing to the secret practices of Sir George Rawdon, who wished to keep the war away from his own country. Macmahon summoned Dungiven, which was defended by Colonel Beresford with about sixty men, to whom he wrote, ‘if you shed one drop of my soldiers’ blood, I will not spare to put man, woman, and child to the sword.’ The place was taken by assault, the soldiers mounting the ramparts by means of short sticks thrust into the sods, and all found in arms were killed, except Beresford himself, who was sent wounded to Charlemont, where he recovered. The women, among whom, according to the ‘British Officer,’ were Lady Coote and Mrs. Beresford, were sent safely to Limavady, which was maintained by the successor of Sir Thomas Phillips. The Bishop hoped that some Scots would join him on Royalist grounds; but he got rid of all Englishmen, and a declaration was published by himself and the Bishop of Down, which was signed by twenty-nine officers, every one of them with Celtic names.[180]

The Bishop of Clogher styled his followers ‘the confident,[Pg 229] victorious Catholic army of the North,’ but its career of success was not long. Ballycastle, on the northern shore of Antrim, was taken without resistance, and garrisoned; but it could be of little use, and the army, amounting at this time to about 4000 foot and 400 horse, returned through the mountains. The Foyle was crossed at a little-frequented passage below Lifford, Coote being encamped higher up with a much inferior force. A smart skirmish took place in which the Irish had the best of it, Captains Taylor and Cathcart being killed. If the Bishop had followed up this success, he might have gained a great victory, for Coote had to retire by a narrow causeway through bogs. The Scotch settlers were numerous between Lifford and Londonderry, and agreed to give some provisions to the Bishop’s army; but Coote persuaded them all to retire into Inishowen with their cattle, so that there was little left for the enemy to eat. Macmahon occupied Lifford, which Major Perkins surrendered as soon as he saw Ormonde’s commission, and remained there for a week, when supplies began to run short. He then imprudently weakened his force by sending a large detachment to take the remote castle of Doe on Sheephaven, and smaller ones to forage about the country, so that when he took up a position at Scariffhollis on the Swilly, some two miles above Letterkenny, he had not with him more than 3000 foot and 400 horse. In the meantime, Coote was growing stronger: 1000 foot, under Colonel Fenwick, came to him from Venables at Belfast, and every available man was drawn out of Enniskillen, so that he had a large force by the fatal 21st of June. The principal officers in the Irish army were for adhering to the Fabian tactics of their late chief, his only son among them. Their arguments were sound and based on experience; but we may be sure that the speech put into Henry O’Neill’s mouth is very different from that uttered by him. The report occupies little more than a page, but in it are mentioned by name Mars, Ulysses, Ajax, Antiochus, Hannibal, Fabius Cunctator, Scipio Africanus, Scanderbeg, Spinola, and Maurice of Nassau. The Bishop retorted by actually accusing him of want of courage; and after that there was nothing[Pg 230] left but to fight. They were, says Coote, posted on a mountain-side, ‘inaccessible to either horse or foot,’ but descended on the enemy’s appearance into ground ‘which was extreme bad,’ but yet possible to traverse. The infantry on both sides were perhaps nearly equal, but the English had a great superiority in cavalry, so that when the Irish broke after an hour’s hard fighting it was easy to pursue them in all directions. About 3000 were killed, including a large part of the officers, and few unmounted men can have escaped. Sir Phelim O’Neill got away to Charlemont, and the Bishop managed to keep some 200 horse together, with which he fled southwards. All his colours, arms, ammunition, and baggage fell into the victors’ hands. Coote’s casualties of all sorts were under a hundred, and only one officer was killed outright. Colonel Fenwick, who fell at the first fire, afterwards died of his wounds. ‘Now the reader may observe,’ says the British Officer, ‘the sequel of making the Bishop a general that was nothing experienced in that lesson, nor becoming his coat to send men to spill Christian blood; and how that for want of conduct and prudency in martial affairs he lost himself and that army that never got a foil before he led them.’[181]

One of the Maguires, who knew all the short cuts, hurried off to Enniskillen as soon as he saw the result of the fight, and warned Major John King that the Bishop was coming his way. King got out one hundred fresh horsemen and fell upon the fugitives, who were in no condition to resist. Macmahon’s leg was broken in the scuffle, and he was taken prisoner. During his captivity he made a good impression, bewailing his many shortcomings and foretelling the course of events. King tried to save his life, but he was hanged[Pg 231] after some weeks and his head fixed upon one of the gates of Londonderry. The responsibility for this must be shared between Ireton and Coote, but particulars are wanting. ‘I do not know,’ says the historian Lynch, ‘what the Bishop foretold, but I am certain that our nation never experienced worse calamities than she has done since he was taken from our midst.’ Ormonde praised him long afterwards as a truthful man who kept to his agreements. Several officers of rank were put to death by Coote after the battle, some of them, if we accept O’Neill’s Journal, with circumstances of great brutality. Henry O’Neill was among them, who reminded Coote that his father had saved him when he was near having to surrender Londonderry. To this Sir Charles replied that those services had been paid for at the time, and that he owed him nothing. The Irish accounts say that these officers had all been received to quarter and should have been treated as prisoners of war; and it is remarkable that the English accounts say nothing about it, though Ludlow notes that there were few prisoners, ‘being for the most part put to the sword.’ It is never possible to ascertain exactly what happened in a battle, but the probability is that immediate quarter for life given on the field was not supposed to cover acts of treason or rebellion, and all Coote’s victims would have come within those qualifications of the subsequent Act of Settlement which barred pardon for life and estate.[182]

Ormonde has been blamed by many Irish writers for not supporting the Bishop of Clogher; but he had no army with him and no means of raising one. Inchiquin’s force had disappeared in the manner already described, and Castlehaven could do little with his small following. Meanwhile, the Shannon estuary was at the mercy of the Parliamentary fleet. Kilrush and Tarbert were burned and all country boats destroyed, so that Clare was cut off from the rest of[Pg 232] Munster. The possession of Limerick was absolutely necessary to keep up the communications between Connaught and the other provinces, and Limerick was contumacious. To those who criticised him for keeping the few soldiers he had in scattered country quarters instead of concentrating them in important garrisons, the Lord Lieutenant sarcastically answered that the towns themselves were responsible, ‘wherein we cannot yet prevail, nor ever could, till by the enemies’ lying at one end of the town we were, not without articling and conditioning, permitted to put such men as we could then get in at the other end.’ He summoned a general assembly to meet at Loughrea on April 27, enclosing a copy of the young King’s letter, which permitted him to leave Ireland if he could not secure obedience. He had a vessel ready in Galway Bay, but the conciliatory attitude of the assembly, owing to the presence of a lay element, induced him to dismiss her and to stay on in Ireland a little longer. The Archbishop of Tuam and Sir Lucas Dillon went to Limerick with directions to settle matters between the town and Ormonde, who in consequence received a rather halting invitation from the mayor, John Creagh. He came within four miles of Limerick, and agreed to visit the city on condition that he should be received with the respect due to a Lord Lieutenant; that he should have military command within the walls, and that he should be attended by his own guard of fifty horse and one hundred foot, all Roman Catholics and old soldiers of the Confederacy. The mayor would have agreed, but Dominick Fanning and a friar named Wolfe possessed themselves of the keys, collected a number of young men, who had already distinguished themselves by plundering Ormonde’s papers on board a ship, and admitted Colonel Murtagh O’Brien with an Irish regiment consisting largely of recruits. Clanricarde, supported by the Commissioners of Trust, called upon the Bishop of Limerick to excommunicate Fanning and O’Brien; but, of course, this was not done. Ormonde offered to remain in Limerick during the coming siege and take his chance with the rest, provided he was allowed to put in a proper garrison and strengthen the works[Pg 233] as he thought fit; but his efforts were all in vain, and Galway was equally determined not to admit Clanricarde.[183]

While Ormonde persevered in his hopeless task, Ireton was gradually reducing the few strongholds which held out to the east of the Shannon after Cromwell’s departure. The first to fall was Tecroghan, in the south-west corner of Meath, which capitulated on June 25, only four days after the disaster at Scariffhollis. That strong castle belonged to Sir Luke Fitzgerald, whose daughter married the ill-fated Henry O’Neill, and had been Ormonde’s headquarters when Cromwell came to Drogheda. Reynolds besieged Tecroghan about the middle of May, the garrison being commanded by Sir Robert Talbot, a kinsman of Lady Fitzgerald, under Ormonde’s orders. This appointment displaced Major Luke Maguire, and the everlasting jealousy between the native Irish and the men of the Pale caused great dissension between the partisans of the late and present governor. In order to relieve the place, Clanricarde came to Tyrrell’s Pass with 2000 foot and 700 horse, under Castlehaven’s command. Several miles of bog had to be crossed, and a council of war was disinclined to move; but Castlehaven offered to march with the foot, leaving the cavalry to distract the enemies’ attention, if possible. The latter part of the advance was along a narrow causeway with deep ditches on either side, and the rearguard, under Captain Fox, was ordered to face about and protect the convoy. ‘He turned to his men,’ says Castlehaven, ‘and spake something in Irish that I did not know, and, marching two or three hundred paces in such a fashion that I could not tell whether he intended fighting or running away. At last he did run away, and all his party followed.’ The van marched on into Tecroghan, but without the[Pg 234] provisions and ammunition; and Castlehaven with difficulty got back. Fox was tried by court-martial and shot. No further attempt could be made to relieve Tecroghan, which capitulated on honourable terms, the garrison marching out with the honours of war, and protection was given for the property of Lady Fitzgerald and some of her friends. By a special article, half the guns in the castle were to remain with Talbot, provided he took them within eight weeks. Carte says this was not done, and calls it a shameful breach of faith; but it is very likely that the pieces were not claimed within the specified time.[184]

Ireton summoned Carlow on July 2, having already thrown a bridge over the Barrow. Major Bellew, who commanded a garrison of about 200 men, asked for three days’ truce, which were granted, to communicate with the Bishop of Dromore and with Preston at Waterford. Further negotiations then took place, and it seems evident that the news of Scariffhollis had greatly damped the ardour of the defenders. Ireton took the bulk of the army with him to Waterford, leaving Sir Hardress Waller to take Carlow, which capitulated as soon as a tower near the bridge had been battered and carried by assault. The terms were as good as those granted to Tecroghan, and Ireton, says Ludlow, ‘caused them punctually to be executed, as his constant manner was.’[185]

After the fall of Clonmel and the departure of Cromwell, Waterford was almost isolated, though Duncannon was still in Irish hands, and communication by the river could not be altogether prevented. But Ireton had control of all the county of Waterford and of Carrick, where was the lowest[Pg 235] bridge over the Suir. It was therefore practically impossible to relieve the city, and a small force encamped at some distance was probably enough to stop the introduction of cattle or other provisions by land. When Carlow was once invested, Ireton could spare a larger force, and he left that place early in July to press the siege of Waterford, having first sent a summons to offer fair terms. The garrison were to march out and surrender their arms within four miles of the town, officers and gentlemen retaining their swords and pistols. Cannon were not to be removed. Private property of all kinds was protected, and two months given to carry it away. Civilians were to be disarmed, but not otherwise interfered with in any way, and the soldiers might go where they pleased on promising not to serve against the Parliament in England or Ireland. No obstacle was placed in the way of taking service under any foreign government. These terms were rejected, and a further summons was sent after the surrender of Carlow. Preston or his son, Sir James, then made a sporting offer to admit Ireton’s infantry and let them do what they could inside the town. There is a good deal of grim humour in the letters exchanged on this subject, Ireton suggesting that ‘old General Preston’ must be dead. Of course, this came to nothing. More importance attaches to the murder of a man named Murphy, who was going out of Waterford into the country with 80l. in his pocket. A major and a cornet were implicated, and Ireton had them both shot. At last, after much correspondence, Sir James Preston and others came out upon safe conduct dated the last of July. The place of meeting was then called New Cross, just outside the town on the south-east side and close to the Suir. It was probably the news of Carlow having fallen that decided Preston to surrender, for Ireton seems not to have been ready for an assault, though he could annoy the town with his artillery. The terms were virtually the same as those offered a month before, and on August 10, says Ireton, ‘there marched out about 700 men, well armed, the townsmen more numerous than before we believed, and the town better fortified in all parts and more difficult to be attempted than our forces[Pg 236] conceived, there being many private stores sufficient to have maintained them a long time.’ Duncannon, which it was now evidently useless to defend, capitulated seven days later.[186]

Having taken a fortnight’s rest after Scariffhollis, Sir Charles Coote proceeded to besiege the strong fort at Charlemont, which had been in Sir Phelim O’Neill’s hands since the first outbreak in 1641. As Sir Phelim had accepted the peace of 1649 it was reckoned as a royal fortress, and was the last to hold out for the King in Ulster. Venables joined Coote, and a hot fire was kept up with guns and mortars; but it was not till near the middle of August that a practicable breach was made. The garrison made a desperate resistance, assisted by many women, ‘who more appeared like fighting Amazons than civilised Christians.’ The storming-party were assailed not only with shot, but with scalding slops and hot ashes, and were beaten back after two or three hours’ fighting. Venables had a narrow escape, but Coote, who commanded in chief, remained ‘a spectator, smoking of tobacco at distance.’ The total loss of the besiegers was not less than 500 men, but O’Neill’s ammunition was running short, and only thirty men out of 140 were able to bear arms, all the rest being killed or wounded. He went out himself to confer with Coote, while Colonel Audley Mervyn, afterwards Speaker of the House of Commons, and Major King, afterwards Lord Kingston, were sent in as hostages. The garrison marched out with arms and baggage, Sir Phelim having leave to go beyond sea, and Coote undertaking to find him a vessel. Unfortunately for himself, O’Neill remained in Ireland, while Venables returned to Carrickfergus and Coote to London[Pg 237]derry. A Parliamentary garrison was left in the fort which had been so dearly won.[187]

While the strong places of Leinster, Munster, and Ulster were being reduced, Ormonde was struggling to maintain the semblance of royal authority beyond the Shannon. The Loughrea conferences had led to no good result, and the bishops assembled on their own account at Jamestown in Leitrim on August 6. They announced their intentions to Ormonde through the Archbishops of Dublin and Tuam, who reminded him of what he knew only too well—that there was no army and no money, and that the enemy were actually drawing large contributions from Irish Catholics, whose country was in their hands; so that ‘we are in a fair way for losing our sacred religion, the King’s authority, and Ireland.’ They invited the Lord Lieutenant to send a representative to Jamestown, but he answered with perfect truth that this would be useless after what had already happened. ‘Ancient and late experience,’ he said, ‘hath made evident what power those of your function have had to draw the people of this nation to what they thought fit.’ Yet they had been unable or unwilling to give him possession of Limerick, without which successful military operations east of the Shannon were quite impossible. But he wished the Jamestown assembly all success, especially if the object of the prelates was, as they themselves admitted, to clear their own consciences. He had endeavoured to show ‘that the spring of our past losses and approaching ruin arises from disobedience, and it will not be hard to show that the spring of these disobediences arises from the forgeries invented, the calumnies spread against government, and the incitements of the people to rebellion by very many of the clergy.’[188]

The Jamestown congregation met as announced, and after three or four days’ deliberation they despatched Bishop Darcy of Dromore and Charles Kelly, Dean of Tuam, to[Pg 238] Ormonde with full powers to explain their views. They had observed with ‘grief and admiration’ that he threw some of the blame upon them, showed to their own satisfaction that they were not in fault, and left it to their emissaries to declare what they believed to be the only possible means of preserving the country. Ormonde prudently required the plenipotentiaries to put their message upon paper; and the result was a peremptory notice to him to quit Ireland forthwith. The writers plainly said that he was of no use there, but that his great position and experience might avail something if he was by the King’s side. In the meantime, he was to leave the viceregal authority in the hands of someone ‘trusty to the nation, and such as the affection and confidence of the people will follow.’ On the day before this message was delivered the assembled prelates had actually excommunicated all who adhered to the Lord Lieutenant, so that there was little sincerity in sending the Bishop of Dromore and his colleague at all. The excommunication, with the declaration prefixed, though dated August 12, was withheld from publication until September 15, so that Ormonde’s answer might be first received. The Commissioners of Trust persuaded him to summon the bishops to another conference at Loughrea on August 26, and he went there himself; but they only sent the Bishops of Cork and Clonfert, with no instructions except to demand an answer to their order for his leaving the kingdom. In giving this, Ormonde pointed out that he had returned to Ireland from a sense of duty, that he had been prepared in April last to make room for a Roman Catholic viceroy, but that many of the prelates themselves had then begged him to stay; and that he waited now because the King’s position in Scotland was hopeful and orders might come which he would be sorry should arrive in his absence. ‘We plainly observe,’ he added, ‘that though the division is great in the nation under our government, yet it will be greater upon our removal; for which in a free conference we should have given such pregnant evidence as we hold not fit this way to declare.’ The best chance of prevailing upon Charles to send supplies was to be able to tell him how obedient[Pg 239] and dutiful the people were. A majority of the Commissioners of Trust, all Roman Catholics, wrote in much the same strain, urging that disloyalty on the part of the clergy would reflect upon the nation at large, and could only result in general ruin.[189]

On August 16, four days after the decree of excommunication was passed at Jamestown, an event happened in Scotland which was alone sufficient to destroy all Ormonde’s plans. It is less famous and was less important than the Glamorgan treaty, but it shows that Charles was his father’s son, and he even contrived to better the instruction. At Dunfermline on August 16, he was induced to sign a declaration in which he professed himself ‘deeply humbled and afflicted in spirit before God’ for his father’s sin in opposing the Covenant, ‘and for the idolatry of his mother, the toleration whereof in the King’s house, as it was matter of great stumbling to all the Protestant churches, so could it not but be a high provocation against Him who is a jealous God, visiting the sins of the father upon the children.’ He further declared his conscientious conviction of the ‘exceeding great sinfulness and unlawfulness of that treaty and peace made with the bloody Irish rebels, who treacherously shed the blood of so many of his faithful and loyal subjects in Ireland.’ For the future he would prefer affliction to sin, and employ no one who had not taken the Covenant; and he ‘recalled all commissions given to any such persons.’ The baseness of this declaration can hardly be matched in our history, but George IV. tried to emulate it when he authorised Mr. Fox to inform the House of Commons that he was not married to Mrs. Fitzherbert. Clarendon can only say that Charles was[Pg 240] ‘absolutely forced to consent’ and other apologists take the same line, but Carte, with all his royalism, was not deceived by sophistry of this kind. He makes every allowance for Charles’s youth and difficulties, but with the scathing reflection that ‘if a man once gets over his natural magnanimity he is afterwards fit for anything; and having done one mean thing, is capable of doing ten thousand.’[190]

The articles of the peace had been brought by Lord Byron to the Hague early in March 1649, and Charles had written twice to confirm them, declaring himself ‘extremely well satisfied.’ These letters were found by Carte among Ormonde’s papers, as well as the latter’s acknowledgment, so that their delivery is not doubtful. Charles did not deny the facts, and he sought for the means of neutralising them as much as possible. The emissary chosen was Dr. John King, Dean of Tuam, who had taken refuge in Scotland, and we have his own account of the interview where he received his instructions. ‘The Scots,’ said Charles, ‘have dealt very ill with me, very ill. I understand you are willing to go into Ireland. My Lord of Ormonde is a person that I depend upon more than anyone living. I much fear that I have been forced to do some things which may much prejudice him. You have heard how a declaration was extorted from me, and how I should have been dealt withal, if I had not signed it. Yet what concerns Ireland is no ways binding, for I can do nothing in the affairs of that kingdom without the advice of my council there; nor hath that kingdom any dependence upon this, so that what I have done is nothing.’ It is only fair to say that after Dunbar had been fought he took the opportunity of another trusty messenger to express his gratitude, begging Ormonde not to run any unavoidable personal risk, but to leave Ireland whenever he pleased. He had already advised him that Scotland was not safe, and that he should seek France or Holland. It took Dr. King[Pg 241] about two months to get to Ormonde, and he at once undertook ‘through much hazard’ to take the answer back to Scotland. The Dunfermline declaration was already known in Ireland through other channels, and Ormonde at first thought the report was a fabrication circulated by the Scots politicians for their own purposes, but the Dean of Tuam brought a printed copy with him, and there was no longer room for doubt. This was on October 13, and Ormonde at once summoned the Commissioners of Trust to meet him at Ennis on the 23rd, and by their advice convened an assembly to sit at Loughrea on November 15. To the Commissioners he explained in writing that the Dunfermline declaration had been ‘by some undue means obtained from his Majesty’ upon one-sided assertions of the peace being unlawful and without hearing the other parties. For himself he was determined by every means in his power to maintain the validity of the peace as binding the King and all his subjects until the authorised representatives of the Irish nation should have ‘free and safe access unto his Majesty,’ provided always that the Jamestown declaration forbidding obedience to him as Lord Lieutenant should be revoked, that the bishops should acknowledge that they had invaded his Majesty’s prerogative, and that he and the necessary forces under his command should be freely admitted into all garrisons. The Commissioners of Trust accepted the excuses made for Charles, whose declaration they had read with ‘inexpressible grief,’ and for themselves agreed to the Lord Lieutenant’s provisoes. In order to prepare matters for the ‘assembly of the nation,’ they asked and obtained leave to go to Galway, and to confer with the standing committee of bishops there.[191]

Six bishops met the Commissioners accordingly, among them being Darcy of Dromore, French of Ferns, who was Ormonde’s bitter enemy, and Lynch of Clonfert, who had[Pg 242] protested even against the short delay interposed between the decree of excommunication and its publication. Bellings and his colleagues suggested that the peace and the maintenance of the royal authority were the only means of preserving union, and to this end they asked that the excommunication and declaration should be withdrawn with a promise not to renew them. It was understood by both parties that Clanricarde was Ormonde’s only possible successor, but the bishops could and did argue irresistibly that Charles had withdrawn his own authority ‘and thrown away the nation from his protection as rebels.’ With less wisdom they declared in the baldest way that it was a scandal to have a Protestant governor over Catholics, and that in the abortive agreement between the Pope and Henrietta Maria this had been provided against. They positively refused to annul the excommunication or to promise not to renew it, and they reiterated the complaints of bad administration already so often made against Ormonde. In conclusion they agreed that Clanricarde should govern with the consent of all parties and with ‘the King’s authority from the Lord Lieutenant which he conceives is in him’ until a free and lawful assembly should otherwise order. If such a body decided to treat with the enemy the Church would acquiesce, though she would be the heaviest loser, but they conjured the Catholics of Ireland to imitate the Maccabees, whose fears were greater for the Temple than for their nearest and dearest kinsfolk. The result of this preliminary conference was not very hopeful, but the compromise was accepted by Darcy, who two months before had been authorised to demand that Ormonde should put the viceregal authority into commission, the commissioners being all Roman Catholics nominated by the bishops. This he had of course refused to do, and Clanricarde was the only alternative.[192]

The assembly began to meet at Loughrea on November 15, but did not constitute themselves until the 25th, when Sir[Pg 243] Richard Blake was elected chairman. The lay element from the first asserted itself, and some bishops, who in purely ecclesiastical manifestoes considered themselves bound by the majority, showed a certain amount of independence. On December 7 an agreement was rather unexpectedly arrived at, and probably this was hastened by the fact that Ormonde was on shipboard and might leave Ireland without delegating his authority. First the prelates were induced to say that they had no intention at Jamestown of usurping the royal authority, and no aim but the ‘preservation of the Catholic religion and people.’ The assembled ‘Lords Spiritual and Temporal and Gentry’ then declared their conviction that the royal authority was the best bond of union, and that no body of men in Ireland had any power to impair it. It is to be observed, and no doubt Ormonde did observe, that the deposing power of the Pope is not referred to. They then besought the Lord Lieutenant to leave his authority in some person faithful to his Majesty ‘and acceptable to the nation,’ to whom they promised ready obedience. And they fully acknowledged that the retiring viceroy had risked person and property for the royal cause, and that, even when unsuccessful, he had ‘faithful intentions and hearty affections to advance his Majesty’s interests and service.’ This manifesto reached Ormonde at Gleninagh in Clare, where he had put in before taking his final departure. He wrote to say that he was not fully satisfied, but that he had sent a commission as Deputy to Clanricarde, and he left it to him to get further explanations and to accept or reject the charge according to their tenor. This was his last act in Ireland until after the Restoration and, having refused Ireton’s offer of a pass, he sailed on December 11 in a very fast vessel of twenty-four tons and four guns which the Duke of York had provided for him in Jersey. He was accompanied by Inchiquin, Bellings, Daniel O’Neill, and many officers, and it was three weeks before they reached land at Perros Guirec in Brittany. Forty men in a boat of twenty-four tons in the open Atlantic and in midwinter must have endured very great hardships. Ormonde made his way to Caen, where his wife and children[Pg 244] were, and from thence to Paris. A second ship with Sir George Lane and others reached France, and a third with servants and baggage was lost at sea. The distinguished exiles were from the first in the direst distress.[193]

[Pg 245]

CHAPTER XXXIV

CLANRICARDE AND IRETON, 1651

When Ludlow landed in Ireland a few weeks after Ormonde left, one of his first acts was to sign a proclamation prohibiting the slaughter of calves and lambs. The waste of the war had been so great that there was a danger of depleting the country of its stock. Starvation was imminent everywhere, and to this the plague was added, which first appeared in Galway and was supposed to be imported from Spain. The Aphorismical Discovery relates with something like glee that the first house visited was that of Sir Richard Blake, which had been cursed by Rinuccini, and that the contagion flowed thence ‘as from a channel, the divine vengeance of high power unto the respective provinces of Ireland, except Ulster, as not guilty of either censure, curse, or ejection of my lord nuncio.’ Ludlow says simply that it reached most parts, and Bishop O’Brien of Emly that it was in every corner. It was very bad in the south, Kilkenny, Waterford, and Limerick being severely scourged. Bishop Comerford of Waterford estimates the deaths in his own diocese at 5000, and many priests were taken. ‘Our sins,’ he adds, ‘have provoked this scourge.’

At first the English soldiers were nearly exempt, but suffered equally afterwards; as a punishment, Ireton thought, for trusting in the carnal arm and not giving God the glory. The bishops and the clerical politicians generally do not show to advantage in their disputes with Ormonde, and the narrative of a poor friar is much better worth reading. Having visited in disguise Kilkenny, Ross, and many other places he came to Waterford, where many were dying of the plague. ‘Here have I been,’ he says, ‘these six weeks[Pg 246] ministering indifferently to poor and rich, and here I intend to stay until plague or gallows ends my life. I had no confessor until God sent an English priest to this city, who, coming lately out of Spain into England, was pressed for military service by the Parliamentarians, who did not know he was a priest, and sent with others to Ireland, where he escaped and is now in hiding here. I go freely about the city as gardener of its chief heretic, and even work at carrying burdens with the porters. I am indifferent whether God continues thus to hide me or not, but if I can get away unrecognised I will go to Dungarvan and Youghal and so round Ireland until He pleases to take me to Himself. Our father Gregory is within fifteen or twenty miles, but being known and unwieldy he cannot come to me, nor can I go to him or account of the scarcity of priests in these parts, all the native clergy being driven out.’[194]

Ireton was Lord Deputy, and commanded the army, but the Council of State found it necessary to give him help in the civil government. After some discussion, Edmund Ludlow, Miles Corbet, John Jones, and John Weaver were appointed to settle the affairs of Ireland ‘with the advice and approbation of General Cromwell, Lord Lieutenant thereof, and Henry Ireton, Esq., his deputy, or either of them.’ Of these commissioners the first three were regicides, while Weaver had been appointed one of the late King’s judges, but had never acted. Ludlow was also general of the cavalry, and his friends suggested that Cromwell only wished to get him out of the way, ‘but I,’ he says himself, ‘could not think myself so considerable and therefore could not concur with them in that opinion.’ He was not anxious to go, but Cromwell declared that he was the fittest man, and that private affairs must yield to those of the public. The Commissioners were instructed to advance religion and to[Pg 247] suppress ‘idolatry, popery, superstition, and profaneness,’ executing the statutes against Recusants and taking care that Papists should have no public employment, nor be allowed to ‘practise as counsellors at law, attorneys, or solicitors, nor to keep schools for the training up of youth.’ They were to study the revenue and reduce expenses as soon as the progress of the war allowed, and to take especial pains as to the administration of justice. Ludlow and his colleagues were all at Waterford before the end of January, and Lady Ireton, who travelled with them, joined her husband there.[195]

After the surrender of Waterford, Galway, Limerick and Athlone were the only walled towns still held by the Irish, and the next work awaiting Ireton was to find a passage over the Shannon. Vast quantities of cattle, some stolen, had been driven into the Wicklow mountains, which were diligently searched by Ireton’s parties. In Glen Imale, where the Royal Artillery now practise, a great herd was captured, and part of it was handed over to Sir Hardress Waller, who was detached at the beginning of September to summon Limerick, and to blockade it as far as that could be done from the left bank of the Shannon. By his defence of Clonmel Hugh O’Neill had earned the respect of his foes, and civilities passed between him and Waller, but he declared his resolution to maintain the city to the death, ‘for the use of his Majesty King Charles.’ The citizens were well disposed to resistance, but the unfortunate governor had no soldiers, and the corporation would admit none. He himself was not ‘excommunication-proof,’ to use Preston’s phrase, and he thought it best to keep quiet until circumstances changed. His personal safety even was doubtful, and he begged Ormonde’s pardon for not going to bid him farewell, since he ‘gloried in nothing more than to be esteemed a faithful observer of monarchical government.’ If Ireton had been a great commander he would not have divided his army, and probably[Pg 248] he could have taken Limerick by pressing it resolutely when no preparations had been made for resistance, and while dissensions were rife within the walls. Instead of this he went to Athlone, where the garrison abandoned the town on the Leinster side. Sir Charles Coote established a camp among the half-burned houses, and Ireton occupied himself in reducing scattered garrisons, which might safely have been neglected. The most important was Birr, which was deserted by its garrison on the approach of the army and occupied on September 28. Roscrea, Thurles, Cashel, and Thomastown near Tipperary were visited, and on October 4 Ireton encamped near the old Desmond stronghold at Lough Gur, whence he approached Limerick on the western side. He asked for a passage through the city, which he would then protect, but of course this was refused, and on October 9 the Deputy went to see what could be done about making a bridge at Castle Connell.[196]

Axtell left Kilkenny with 800 men on October 6, and marched towards Athlone, from which Coote had withdrawn northwards. While he was on his way Clanricarde crossed the Shannon with over 3000 men, took Ferbane and besieged Kilcolgan in King’s County. In the face of a superior force Axtell was unable to cross the Brosna, and drew back to Roscrea. The Irish then summoned Birr, taking Streamstown and two other castles near it, but retired again before a fresh advance of Axtell, whose force was trebled in a few days by the arrival of contingents from Tipperary and Wexford. On October 25 the Parliamentarians advanced to the Shannon, where they found the enemy strongly posted in the island or peninsula of Meelick, near Banagher, which was then accessible only by one passage flanked with bogs and defended by three separate entrenchments one behind the other. The two first were carried pretty easily, but at the third it came to a hand-to-hand fight. Axtell’s men burst[Pg 249] into the island and the slaughter was very great, five hundred being driven into the river and drowned in one body. Out of at least 3000 men only 300 escaped by swimming across. Clanricarde, who thought there was no danger, was away, but his waggon and tent fell into the victors’ hands. The lately captured castles were abandoned, and Axtell returned to Kilkenny, having sent a part of his force to help Ireton in besieging Nenagh. The latter place surrendered on October 30, its garrison of 108 men marching out without arms, and the army soon afterwards went into winter quarters at Kilkenny.[197]

Charles IV., Duke of Lorraine, who, according to Voltaire, spent his life in losing his dominions, had been a lover of the open-hearted Duchess of Chevreuse, for whose sake his state was made the focus of intrigue against Richelieu. Louis XIII. when dying ordered this mischievous lady to be kept out of France, and Mazarin afterwards noted how disaster had dogged her footsteps in Lorraine and everywhere else. Her sojourn in England preceded the rebellion there, her voyage to Madrid was followed by the loss of Portugal and Catalonia, and her stay at Brussels coincided with the progress of French arms at the expense of Spain. Acknowledging the suzerainty of the Emperor and repudiating that of the French king, the Duke of Lorraine had visions of an eighth electorate, and of a commanding military position like that of Wallenstein. He lost his duchy, he did not gain his electorate, and the mercenaries whom he gathered from all sides, and supported by plunder or by forced contributions, were used by the Emperor or the King of Spain with very little regard for the permanent interests of their leader, who, however, made money by the business like an Italian condottiere of the fifteenth century. At the beginning of 1646 he gave a commission to Colonel Thomas Plunket to raise an Irish regiment for service in Flanders, and sought the assistance of Ormonde in so doing. Plunket brought letters to the Confederate Catholics, also, with money enough for recruiting purposes, and with a gift of four field pieces, thirty barrels of powder,[Pg 250] and some pikes and muskets. Through the Spanish ambassador in London he had also obtained a safe conduct for himself and a passage for his men through the places held for the Parliament, and he was allowed to carry some of his levies to Flanders. As the Parliamentarians had command of the sea, it was easy for Ormonde to say that he countenanced nothing against the French court, and that there was little chance of Irish recruits being obtainable for the service of Louis XIV.[198]

At the beginning of 1646 the Duke proposed to send 10,000 men into England to help Charles I., but the plan was frustrated, if it was ever meant seriously, by the unwillingness of France and Holland to allow the embarkation in their respective territories. Interference in England would have had sentimental motives mainly, but Charles had other reasons for looking to Ireland. He was a bigamist, having children by a second wife during the lifetime of the first, and he was not of a rank to imitate Henry VIII. His object was to dissolve the first union and to legitimate the second, and assistance given to the Irish Catholics might gain him favour at Rome. The Irish officers in his service would naturally push him in the same direction, and the Irish clergy assembled at Clonmacnoise in December 1649 deputed Nicholas French, bishop of Ferns, and William Burke, provincial of the Dominicans, to ask the Duke’s help. French carried a secret commission signed by some bishops and others under their control, and without any regard to the viceroy. The strength of England had not yet been exerted, and the clergy fancied that Ireland could break off with some foreign help. Many regretted that they had not supported Rinuccini better. Patrick Rochfort, recorder of Wexford, a partisan of the nuncio, went to Jersey about the same time to open communications with Charles II., but he had no[Pg 251] authority from anyone holding power in Ireland. His main object seems to have been to intrigue for Ormonde’s removal from the Irish Government. The Duke of Lorraine’s first idea was to deal with Ormonde as the King of England’s unquestioned representative, and he sent over Colonel Oliver Synnott nominally to recruit soldiers in Ireland as of old under Ormonde’s authority, but also with letters relating to the more important negotiations. Rochfort followed Charles to Breda, and proposed to give Duncannon Fort to the Duke of Lorraine as security for an advance of 24,000l. This negotiation was carried pretty far, but nothing actually came of it, and Duncannon was in Ireton’s hands in the following August. Rochfort and Synnott reached Ireland in May, declaring that they had thrown overboard their most secret and important despatches for fear of their capture by a pursuing frigate. There seemed probability enough in their story to induce Ormonde to treat with them, and he gave a commission to Lord Taaffe, Lord Athenry, and Geoffrey Browne to negotiate on his behalf. Galway was now the object instead of Duncannon, but there was mutual distrust between Ormonde and Synnott, and they came to no agreement.[199]

While Synnott’s business hung fire, Ormonde sent Lord Taaffe to the King, and he sailed from Galway Bay on the last day of June, after the arrival of Charles in Scotland. The Duke of York, who was the next best authority, gave him a letter of credence to the Duke of Lorraine at Brussels. Taaffe, whom Carte rightly calls ‘a bold and forward undertaker,’ went first to Paris, which he found hard to leave, as Rinuccini had done before him, and as so many others have done since. Mazarin was much more anxious to keep on good terms with the Parliament than to[Pg 252] promote an Irish crusade. Moreover, his enemy De Retz was, by Hyde’s account, the best friend Charles had in France, and he certainly gave him sound advice when he said that the profession of Catholicism, however desirable for his soul’s good, would prevent him from regaining his kingdom. De Retz had befriended the Queen when he found her at the Louvre, a few days before her husband’s death, without funds or credit, and obliged to keep the future Duchess of Orleans in bed for lack of a fire. The coadjutor attributes this destitution to Mazarin, and exaggerated his own services, but it appears from later researches that the Queen’s or Jermyn’s extravagance had much to do with it. The Duke of Lorraine had hesitated about embarking on an Irish adventure without knowing the King of England’s views, but it was thought impossible to send a Catholic emissary to Scotland, and Henrietta Maria wrote twice to that effect, advising the Duke to place the fullest confidence in Taaffe. Later on she had not so good opinion of him, for without consulting her he tried to negotiate a betrothal between the Duke of York and the Duke of Lorraine’s infant daughter. After lingering six weeks in the French capital, Taaffe did not reach Brussels till the end of November, nearly five months after his departure from Ireland. Want of means may have been one cause of delay, for he says: ‘I was like to starve at Paris, though every person saluted me with “votre très humble serviteur jusqu’à la mort!”’ It became clear to him that nothing could be expected either from France or Spain, but there was some chance from Lorraine.[200]

[Pg 253]

Ormonde left Ireland in December 1650, and was destined not to return until 1662. Meanwhile, the Duke of Lorraine sent Stephen de Henin, Abbot of St. Catherine’s, a person much in his confidence, to Ireland, with letters addressed generally to the men in authority there. Shortly afterwards he wrote to the Pope claiming to be the Church’s champion, and asking for Innocent’s blessing and prayers. De Henin was accompanied by George Dillon, a Franciscan who was Taaffe’s uncle, and who brought 5000l. as an earnest of what might be expected from Lorraine. They landed at Galway on February 26, when Bishop French, who hated Ormonde above all created beings, had sailed for France with a private commission from some of the clergy. He stayed some time at Paris, went on to Brussels about the end of April, and speedily gained the Duke of Lorraine’s ear. Madame de Chevreuse and the Duchess of Orleans gave what help they could, and De Henin found the viceregal authority in Clanricarde’s hands, and being, in Clarendon’s words ‘a wise man and of phlegm enough,’ he refused to treat with anyone else. Four of the Commissioners of Trust, of whom two had already been employed by Ormonde, summoned Clanricarde from Banagher, and he gave the Lorraine envoy a public audience at Tirellan. De Henin handed him the Duke’s letter, and Dillon the two last from Taaffe to Ormonde. Dillon, who had had opportunities of knowing the Lorrainer’s plans, was called upon to submit proposals, and they were not such as Clanricarde could possibly agree to. It was suggested that the protectorate of Ireland should be handed over to the Duke, ‘his heirs and successors,’ that Limerick and Galway should be given in pawn for his outlay, that he should be invited to come over in person, and that in the meantime Lord Taaffe should ‘have as ample commission to treat and conclude with his Highness, as his Highness’s ambassador hath to this kingdom.’ Many of the Commissioners of Trust and several bishops had come to Galway on hearing of the stranger’s arrival, and they drew up fresh proposals less bold in form, but equally destructive of the viceregal authority. In the long negotiations that[Pg 254] followed, Clanricarde showed a good deal of diplomatic skill, and had no difficulty in proving that neither the King alone nor any popular assembly without him could convey away Ireland as an estate of inheritance. In the end the Lord Deputy covenanted with De Henin that the Duke of Lorraine should give 20,000l., including what Dillon had already brought, on the security of Limerick and Galway, and of the whole nation collaterally, but without binding any man’s separate estate. The Duke was to have the appointment of a commandant in each cautionary town, provided, nevertheless, that ‘in case of pressing necessity for the public service of the kingdom, the Lord Deputy may make use of his power as hitherto accustomed.’[201]

Ormonde, and the rest of the exiled family’s chief advisers, with Hyde at the head of them, had little hope from the Duke of Lorraine, whom they considered fond of money, very cunning, and very much inclined to have his pound of flesh. Nicholas saw very clearly that Taaffe was no match for him, and that he was liar enough to ‘deceive the Earl of Norwich or any man living.’ The object was to make a diversion in Ireland, and so give the King some chance in his Scotch venture. The Duke of Lorraine did actually give 20,000l. for Ireland, but this was not enough seriously to affect the desperate situation there. If anything, the expectation of these shadowy succours had the effect of preventing the Irish from exerting themselves. Bad bargains were made in buying arms, there was a good deal of waste, and the discount on bills of exchange was so heavy that ‘the sheer money,’ to quote Bellings, ‘came far short of the first mouthful.’ Dean King reported that the 20,000l. was thus reduced by 6,000l. Rumours that more was coming were sedulously[Pg 255] propagated, and great things were expected as far off as Madrid, and the farce was continued during the whole of 1651. This reliance upon a broken reed probably weakened the efforts of the Irish. The Duke proposed to send a small army, but neither Spain, France, nor Holland would allow it passage, and it was arms and money that were wanted, for of men there were already plenty in Ireland. It seems probable that the Duke had no intention of doing anything, and that his real object was to further his matrimonial suits at Rome. To that end he might be willing to outwit the Irish clergy as well as the Protestant Royalists and the non-clerical Deputy. In addressing the Pope he took his stand upon a decree of the Lateran Council under Innocent III., where legates from England and all other States were present, which gave the Pontiff power to appoint a protector if any state fell into heresy. Innocent X., however, was cautious, thought the Irish nation should be consulted, and that some more powerful prince might undertake the work. Bishop French told Taaffe and his colleagues that they derived their authority from the ‘withered and accursed hand of one for several causes excommunicated a jure et homine, and at Rome accounted a great contemner of the authority and dignity of churchmen, and persecutor of my lord nuncio and some bishops and other churchmen ... who never joined the Confederate Catholics until he found the opportunity of bearing down the Pope’s nuncio ... comrade-in-arms with Lord Inchiquin, who not long before dyed his hands in the blood of priests and innocent souls in the church or rock of St. Patrick, in Cashel.’ He urged the agents to ignore Clanricarde’s commission, and to ‘go on cheerfully in the contract with this most Catholic’ prince. Taking advantage of Taaffe’s absence from Brussels, Plunket and Browne did accordingly make an agreement with the Duke of Lorraine without mentioning the Lord Deputy, and in the name of the ‘kingdom and people of Ireland.’[202]

[Pg 256]

There was an Irish agent at Paris named Tyrrell, who intrigued with Madame de Chevreuse and the Duchess of Orleans, but even before the battle of Worcester Ormonde saw that the Duke would do nothing serious. ‘He must,’ he wrote, ‘sit down with the loss of 20,000l., and they (the Irish) with the state of perfect slavery, the frequent lot of such as affect immoderate power upon weak foundations. The remaining consolation is that, if the King recover England, Ireland will soon follow, without which, if he had it again so peopled as it was, it would be lost.’ The agreement was signed on July 2, but was not transmitted to Clanricarde until September, after the news of Worcester had reached Brussels. Taaffe, who had hitherto been so sanguine, now thought that the Duke of Lorraine would be unable to do anything; and, indeed, he had probably no further object but to gain credit at Rome by a show of strong clerical leanings. ‘His proposals,’ Taaffe wrote, ‘discovered more of self-interest than affection to his Majesty.’ As far as the agreement could do it, he was constituted the ‘true royal protector of Ireland, and this to pass to his heirs and successors.’ The army and militia present and future were placed absolutely in his hands, with power in his absence to appoint a substitute ‘professing Catholic religion, excluding all other whosoever.’ All heretics were to be expelled from Ireland. When these points had been granted, certain provisoes making a show of preserving the royal authority were hardly worth the paper on which they were written. Ormonde, who might easily have been communicated with, never heard of the agreement until a copy was sent back by Clanricarde from Ireland. At the time of its despatch Limerick was closely besieged, and within a few days of surrender, but the corporation of Galway received a direct[Pg 257] letter from the Duke of Lorraine, in which he held out hope of further supplies, and claimed their help in carrying out the agreement made with Plunket and Browne. Some powder was sent towards the end of 1651, but it was the ‘basest ever seen, not worth 2s. a barrel,’ yet the Irish were afraid to complain for fear of offending the Duke. In 1652 a very small further supply was sent to Innisbofin. They sent a favourable answer by special messenger, addressing the Duke as royal protector of Ireland, and when the Lord Deputy remonstrated they practically refused to make any excuse. He reported fully to the Queen and to Ormonde, and he could do no more. The latter at least fully understood the matter. The object of the Irish clergy, he said, was to call in a Roman Catholic protector, ‘from which office to absolute sovereignty the way is straight and easy,’ and they were so intent upon this that they allowed the country to fall into the power of the English rebels.[203]

Clanricarde plainly told the Duke of Lorraine that he had been duped ‘by the counterfeit shew of a private instrument, fraudulently procured, and signed by some inconsiderable factious persons.’ He laid the chief blame on French, as the violent and malicious enemy of royal authority in Ireland, and ‘a fatal instrument in contriving and fomenting all those diversions and divisions that have rent asunder the kingdom.’ He bade Bishop Darcy of Dromore, and the Archbishop of Tuam, who must have known all about it, to observe the efficacy of that prelate’s powerful spirit in persuading and ‘prevailing with the commissioner to break and betray their trust.’ Letters took a long time in transit, but in February[Pg 258] 1652 Charles II. wrote to Clanricarde, entirely approving of his conduct, expressing full confidence in him, and allowing him to leave Ireland whenever he thought fit. This did not reach the Lord Deputy until August, and in the meantime all negotiations with the Duke of Lorraine had been broken off. ‘De Henin,’ says Clarendon, ‘returned in the same ship that brought him, and gave the Duke such an account of his voyage and people that put an end to that negotiation, which had been entered into and prosecuted with less wariness, circumspection, and good husbandry, than that prince was accustomed to use.’ While still professing his anxiety to help the Irish Catholics, the Duke declined to have anything more to say to the Commissioners, whose factiousness had spoiled all. Charles II. had reminded him that Clanricarde was ‘as zealous for the Catholic religion as anyone in Ireland, and that he knew the affections and interests of that people as well as any, whatsoever others pretend.’ Of his dislike to Clanricarde he made no secret, calling him a traitor and base fellow, whom he would do his best to injure if he came within reach, and when the Marchioness reached the Continent he regretted that her sex prevented him from satisfying his feelings of revenge. The remnant of the Irish in Innisbofin continued to hold the island for the Duke of Lorraine, and to hope against hope for his arrival until late in the year 1652.[204]

When the news of Worcester reached Ormonde he knew that all was over for a very long time. A Scottish army in England under Charles in person, a still unsubdued Scotland behind that, and at the same time enough resistance in Ireland to occupy a large Parliamentary force, all these made a combination very unlikely to recur. The only chance, and[Pg 259] that a remote one, was that the parties into which England was divided might fall out among themselves, and so the King come by his own. ‘This,’ he wrote to Clanricarde, who may never have got the letter, ‘I take to be a remote, lazy speculation, and very near lying in the dirt and crying God help. God often blesses very improbable endeavours, but I find not where he promises, or where he has given success to flat idleness, unless contempt or misery, which are the proper fruits of it, may be so called.’ He thought the only thing to do was to seek foreign help, and that the best chance was to try to make the Pope a mediator. Attempts to get money from Rome for the Irish war had already failed, but it was proposed to send Taaffe there a little later. The Pope would do nothing unless Charles would satisfy him that he had joined the Roman communion, and to let this be known would have alienated England irretrievably. When, in due time, the treaty of Dover was signed, Ormonde was kept in the dark. Bishop French, who had reviled Taaffe for not signing the agreement with the Duke of Lorraine, did not return to Ireland, but he attacked Ormonde long after the Restoration for preferring Cromwell’s protectorate to that of a distinguished Catholic prince. It was, perhaps, impossible for an Irish Ultramontane to understand the position of an English Royalist, but it is easy to see now that Ormonde and Clanricarde were essentially in the right. Neither they nor their master could help the usurpation, but they would have destroyed their chances altogether by placing the sovereignty of Ireland in the hands of a foreign adventurer, who could not call a single sea-port his own. Two years later the Spaniards seized his person, and the French annexed his army.[205]

The Parliamentary Commissioners knew that the Irish[Pg 260] in Connaught had received arms and money from the Duke of Lorraine, and that they had great hopes from de Henin’s mission. But Ludlow and the rest saw clearly that the subjugation of Ireland was only a matter of time. They did not advise any immediate reduction in the army, but a large part of the country was now contributing to its support, and they saw their way to diminishing the parliamentary grant for Ireland from 33,000l. to 20,000l. a month. They hoped that the area still to be occupied would on these terms be much narrowed by Michaelmas. Provisions and clothes were scarce, ‘yet your poor naked soldiers upon all commands do go out most cheerfully,’ and they were seldom idle. The Irish were making great efforts to form a strong force out of the remnants of O’Neill’s and Preston’s armies in Westmeath, Cavan, and Longford. To prevent this coming to a head Hewson left Trecroghan on March 14, marching by Tyrell’s Pass to Kilbride, which made some resistance, and through Mullingar to Donore, where Reynolds had stormed the castle with much corn and other plunder in it. The two officers here joined their forces to garrison and repair Lord Netterville’s castle at Ballimore, which had been partly dismantled by the Irish. Ballinalack, which commanded a passage into Longford, was taken without much trouble, but a strong stand was made between Loughs Kinale and Sheelin, where Lord Westmeath had left a garrison in his castle of Finnea. He himself had retired with all portable property to a stronghold at Termonbarry, in Roscommon. Colonel Alexander MacDonnell, Antrim’s brother, and Philip MacHugh O’Reilly held the neighbouring village of Togher, where there was another castle, but there was little discipline, and whisky was easily obtainable, so that Hewson had an easy victory. O’Reilly, who had kept his own head clear, could do nothing, and was fain to gallop away, Sir Theophilus Jones being sent in pursuit of the demoralised crowd. Many were killed and about 400 prisoners taken, including the colonel, lieutenant colonel, and major—all MacDonnells, twelve captains, and twenty-eight subalterns. According to the Irish account, those who did not die in Dublin were ‘transported to St.[Pg 261] Christopher as slaves.’ The garrison of Finnea then surrendered on fair terms, the men marching away under safe-conduct without arms, and Longford and Cavan were at the mercy of the Parliament. Many still remained in arms under Lord Westmeath’s nominal orders, but they were little better than brigands, plundering the poor, and even depriving fugitive friars of such cattle as they had preserved for their sustenance.[206]

Leinster and Ulster being now pretty safe, Coote was directed to cross the Erne near its mouth, and to turn the line of the Shannon. Reynolds was sent with a regiment of horse to help him, and there was no force in Connaught able to repel the invasion. Coote and Reynolds were at Athenry before the end of May, while Ireton himself advanced to the Shannon opposite Killaloe, and Hewson to Athlone. Castlehaven was at Killaloe with what were called ten regiments, ‘but nothing answerable in numbers,’ and there he received a long letter from Ireton setting forth the justice of the Parliamentary cause, speaking slightingly of the King, and inviting him to retire to England, where he would be well received. He would thus save his property and be spared a hopeless struggle in company unworthy of him. Peter Walsh was with Castlehaven, and by his advice Ireton’s offers were spurned, after which all intercourse ceased between the two generals. Preparations for crossing at Killaloe, where the bridge was broken down, were openly made, and more quietly at O’Brien’s Bridge, where there had been no bridge for generations. A few men were sent over in a boat at daybreak, and seized an old house on the Clare side, under cover of which and of field guns on the Tipperary shore 500 men were ferried over in one hour. The Irish were seized with panic, and deserted their entrenchments, while Colonel Ingoldsby with 300 horse crossed the river unopposed at Castleconnell. Castlehaven came too late to rally the fugitives,[Pg 262] and in his absence Colonel Fennell deserted his post at Killaloe and fled to Limerick. Ireton then crossed himself without trouble, while Castlehaven, whose force had dwindled to 300 horse, lost his plate and other property, and went northwards in hopes of joining Clanricarde and intercepting Coote and Reynolds, who had left Londonderry together on May 5, and who for the first time dragged two pieces into Donegal over Barnesmore gap, ‘till then thought impassable for the lightest carriages.’ When they drew near the Curlew mountains, where Sir Conyers Clifford was overthrown in the Elizabethan days, their scouts reported that Clanricarde had occupied the passes, whereupon they turned westward, and got ‘by strange and unexpected ways undiscovered into the county of Mayo,’ near Ballaghdereen, leaving Clanricarde two days’ march in their rear. They were at Athenry on May 31, and outside Loughrea on June 2, where they lost no time, but pushed on towards Portumna without fighting. Clanricarde and Castlehaven were together at Loughrea, but too weak to do anything. They warned all the population to fly with their property, and retired beyond the Galway river, taking refuge in the town when Coote appeared on its eastern side.[207]

As soon as he heard of Coote’s approach, Ireton sent 1000 cavalry and dragoons to meet him, with whom Ludlow, who volunteered his services, started northwards through a desolate country. One ‘creaght’ or encampment of half a dozen families with their cattle, was sighted, and the soldiers would have killed these poor people as enemies had not Ludlow interfered. ‘I took a share with them,’ he says, ‘of a pot of sour milk, which seemed to me the most pleasant liquor that ever I drank.’ Having marched forty miles in about twenty-four hours, Ludlow left the bulk of his men comfortably encamped, and hurried on with sixty troopers to Portumna, which, having repulsed one attack, surrendered next morning. Coote being safe, Reynolds joined Ludlow with 500 horse, and they pursued Clanricarde as far as[Pg 263] Ballinasloe, which surrendered and was garrisoned. Reynolds then returned to Portumna, and Ludlow marched through Clare to Limerick. At Gort he found that Sir Dermot O’Shaughnessy had gone to Galway, leaving his tenants with some soldiers under an English lieutenant named Foliot to hold the castle. A countryman employed by Ludlow deserted, and told the garrison that he had no artillery or other equipage for a siege. But faggots or fascines were made, and each soldier carried one to use as a shield first, and afterwards to fill up the ditch. Enraged by the fall of two comrades the men climbed the twelve foot wall of the courtyard, helping each other to the top. Some ladders were found inside which gave admission to more, a window was soon forced open, and the occupants of the room killed. Foliot fought desperately ‘with a tuck in one hand and a stiletto in the other,’ but was soon run through the body. Faggots were piled against the gates and fired, when the garrison, fearing to be burned alive, hung out a white flag and threw down their arms. Ludlow gave one of his men twenty shillings to fetch out two barrels of powder that were near the fire, which could not be put out, eighty men besides many women and children being rescued by ‘skeins of match thrown up into the chambers.’ A few soldiers were put to death as defenders of an untenable post. Ludlow says he was pressed by his council of war to use this severity, but O’Shaughnessy’s tenants were all dismissed unhurt to their homes, and the general went on to Ireton, driving before him 500 cattle which his foragers had collected among the Burren hills.[208]

Ireton came before Limerick on June 3 on the Clare side of the Shannon. A large number of cattle had been collected at a place called Ferboe, a little above the town, where there was a narrow pass partly defended by an old castle. A stout resistance was made here, but Ingoldsby forced the passage with his cavalry and drove the Irish back to Thomond Bridge, about 150 being killed or drowned. The cattle formed a welcome addition to the commissariat, and Ireton marched on[Pg 264] without further opposition. The estuary was in the hands of the Parliament, and the next few days were spent in landing cannon and mortars. The word bomb was, perhaps, first applied to the mortar-shells used during this siege. June 18 was set apart as a day of thanksgiving ‘for the Lord’s mercies in bringing us over the Shannon,’ and other unexpected successes, and on the next day Ireton having formally summoned Limerick, at once began the bombardment. A battery of twenty-eight guns played upon the castle defending Thomond Bridge. Two mortars, afterwards increased to four, threw shells into the town, but the largest, carrying projectiles of two hundred weight, burst, but without hurting anyone. Ludlow joined Ireton three days later, and found that a lodgment had already been effected on the great salmon-weir above Limerick, where a castle still stands. Two guns were brought to bear, and from one the first shot went in at a window and broke a soldier’s leg. The garrison at once took to their boats, but the fire was so hot that they all rowed to shore and surrendered, some to Tothill on the Clare bank, and some to Ingoldsby on the Limerick bank.[209]

Ireton, says Ludlow, ‘was so great a friend of justice, even where an enemy was concerned, that, though Colonel Axtell was a person extraordinarily qualified ... he suspended him from his employment.’ A court-martial had found that he killed prisoners who had been promised quarter by soldiers, though not by himself. This seems to have been in the attack on Meelick. Tothill was now charged with the same offence and deprived of his regiment, his ensign being also cashiered. Tothill pleaded that he thought no one could grant quarter but the commanding officer, and that the Lord Deputy would be angry if he showed mercy. Ireton said the punishment was too little for the offence and the excuses equally abominable, ‘for the base and servile fear pretended in the latter part, as for the pride of spirit pre[Pg 265]dominate in the former.’ He was somewhat consoled by the fact that Ingoldsby spared all lives on his side.[210]

On the same day that the castle on the weir was taken, the garrison of Limerick sent out a drum in answer to Ireton’s summons. A truce was asked for, hostages to be given by the Deputy during the time that the representatives of the besieged were in his camp. Both conditions were refused, but Ireton had no objection to treat for a capitulation, and six commissioners were sent out, two for the garrison, two for the citizens, and two for the clergy, a like number being named by the Deputy. Among the former were Major-General Purcell and Geoffrey Baron, one of the late Supreme Council; among the latter, Ludlow, Waller, and Colonel Henry Cromwell. They met in a tent between town and camp, dined together every day, and discussed the terms in a leisurely way; but Limerick did not yet despair of relief, and the negotiations came to nothing. Meanwhile, the bombardment continued, two bridges being thrown across the Shannon, one of wood at Castleconnell and the other of boats or floats, below the weir. O’Neill tried to reduce the number of useless mouths by driving non-combatants out of the town. On one occasion Ireton ordered that four of these poor wretches should be knocked on the head, but the order was wrongly given, and forty were killed—‘an act much disgusted by his Excellency.’ The castle on Thomond Bridge was stormed after many hand-grenades had been thrown in; which, strange to say, failed to ignite some barrels of powder specially laid to blow up the assailants. An open arch under the drawbridge was filled up with rubbish and faggots, so that the captured work could be used against the town; but the garrison broke down other arches, and there appeared to be no chance of entering that way. As soon as the floating bridge was finished, Ireton fortified the Clare end of it, and transferred the bulk of his army to the county Limerick side. More than a dozen boats were laden with men, and an attempt was made to seize the upper end of King’s Island, upon the[Pg 266] lower end of which a large part of Limerick stands; but here the besiegers met with a serious reverse. Four boats got over safely, under Major Walker, who had been distinguished at O’Brien’s Bridge, and three other officers. Finding no resistance at first, the men got out of hand and ran through the enemies’ line up to a fort in the middle of the island. The garrison sallied out and drove them back to their boats and to a fifth which was just coming ashore, so that nearly all were either shot or drowned. ‘We find missing,’ Ireton wrote, ‘eighty-six or eighty-seven men, besides the four commissioned officers aforementioned, and not more whatever may be reported.’ Abundant reinforcements were at hand, but before order was restored it was broad daylight, and nothing more could be done. A night attack is always risky, and Ireton acknowledges that there was mismanagement; but some of Tothill’s men who had broken faith with the enemy were among those who perished, and on that account, he adds, ‘that most justly the Lord hath rebuked us, and cast reproach and confusion of face upon us.’[211]

The next day was set apart as one of humiliation for the sins of the army, and on the following came the news that Coote had taken Athlone Castle. Great efforts were made to relieve Limerick. Muskerry had about 5000 men in Kerry, with whom he intended to join Fitzpatrick, who collected what was left of the Leinster forces at Galbally, near the Glen of Aherlow. Meanwhile, David Roche was active with some 3000 men in Clare, and Ludlow was detached to look after him. Roche, who was besieging Carrigaholt, which had been but lately taken, drew off as soon as he heard that Ludlow had passed the Fergus, and Captain Lucas took the opportunity of slipping out with his men, whom he brought safe to the Parliamentary camp. Roche then occupied the passage of the river at Inch Cronan, so as to prevent Ludlow from[Pg 267] returning to Limerick; but his party were soon routed by a superior force of cavalry. Some skirmishing took place among woods and bogs, during which Connor O’Brien of Leamaneh, who commanded a regiment of horse, and was perhaps the most considerable person in Clare, was shot. The Irish were so light of foot that Ludlow could do but little execution; but Carrigaholt was burned or blown up, whether by him or by Roche does not seem quite certain; it was too remote to have much effect on military operations. Having dispersed the Clare gathering and made all safe on that side, Ludlow rejoined Ireton, and while the engineers were pushing on the siege works accompanied him to Killaloe, where he repaired or rebuilt the bridge. The Lord Deputy ‘rode so hard that he spoiled many horses, and hazarded some of the men; but he was so diligent in the public service, and so careless of everything that belonged to himself, that he never regarded what clothes or food he used, what hour he went to rest, or what horse he mounted.’ As a cavalry leader he might have done better by giving heed to Francesco Sforza, one of whose three leading principles was never to ride a horse that stumbled or cast its shoes.[212]

Lord Broghill thought his services had been insufficiently acknowledged, and when Cromwell left Ireland he announced that he would obey no one but Ireton and Adjutant-General Allen. Ludlow sympathised with his discontent, though he occupied in command of the cavalry the very post that Broghill coveted. This, he assured Ireton, he would never have accepted but as a matter of duty and in obedience to positive orders. He advised that something should be done to content Broghill, who, after much discussion, was appointed Lieutenant-General of the Ordnance, with the rank of a general officer. In July 1651 he was detached to intercept Muskerry, with not more than 600 foot and 400 horse as a field force; but his own troop, consisting of reformadoes or unemployed commissioned officers, was particularly efficient. Muskerry collected nearly 3000 men, of whom about one-third were cavalry or dragoons, in the woods near Drishane,[Pg 268] where he had defeated Colonel Elsing in the previous winter, and he got over the Blackwater to Dromagh without fighting. At Castlelyons, Broghill had a message from Ireton ordering him to use every exertion to intercept the Irish army. On the 21st he went to Mallow with this object, and next day followed them towards Castle Ishin, on the border of county Limerick, coming upon their outposts at midnight in a storm of rain and wind. Muskerry doubled back to Dromagh, ‘but through a place and country that the very Teigs themselves could hardly march in,’ leaving Broghill to bar the road to Limerick. On the 24th the Irish were at Drishane again, whither Broghill followed next day, crossing the Blackwater, which had risen much from the great rain. Unable to bring them to action, he determined to return to Mallow for fresh provisions and take up a position at Courtstown, where he could watch the road to Fitzpatrick’s position at Galbally. Before they had marched half a mile the enemy suddenly appeared on the hills to his rear, and at last their whole force descended into the plain at Knockbrack, to the south of Banteer railway station. Broghill’s men fought with great alacrity, and he thought ‘better knocking’ had never been known in Ireland. One division of Irish pikemen particularly distinguished themselves, and all fought well, but, though almost surrounded by superior numbers, the veterans had the best of it. Broghill narrowly escaped with his life, which was specially aimed at, the Irish soldiers calling to each other to ‘kill the fellow with the gold-laced coat.’ He lost under thirty men killed, but there were four or five times as many wounded, and he admits that his force was extremely shattered. Having no means of keeping prisoners safely, he had given orders to make none, and at least 600 were killed, but a few officers were taken to Cork. The priests had exhorted the Irish to fight, and fortified their speech with holy water and charms, many of which were ‘found quilted in the doublets of the dead,’ and there was also a large stock of spare ones. A specimen guaranteeing the wearer against war, water, fire, and pestilence, was sent for parliamentary inspection: it claimed to have been approved by the Council of Trent, and[Pg 269] it was supposed that the Virgin Mary would appear to the owner fourteen days before his death.[213]

The fight at Knockbrack was the last in this war which deserves the name of a battle. There was a prophecy current among the country people that there would be one on that spot, and that the English would get the day. Broghill noted that it was like Naseby, fair weather at the beginning, then a thunderstorm, and then sunshine again. It made the relief of Limerick impossible, and Ireton was justified in firing salvoes of artillery and musketry. But guerrilla warfare continued in many places, and the besiegers were always in danger of being attacked. At the end of August or beginning of September Ireton and Ludlow were both in Clare, catching horses and cows, but seldom their masters, and placing a garrison at Clonroad to curb Clare Castle. Seizing the opportunity of their absence, two thousand foot sallied out of Limerick and almost surprised the cavalry guard; but the latter ‘immediately mounted, and being not accustomed to be beaten,’ drove them back into the town. Muskerry again collected some force, but Broghill easily dispersed them, and the Irish general soon retired to Galway. Occasionally the Parliamentarians suffered small reverses. Meelick, for instance, was recaptured by Fitzpatrick at the beginning of August, the garrison being all asleep. Phelim M’Hugh O’Reilly attacked Finnea on August 5, but was beaten back with great loss; and there were other considerable bodies of the Irish still together in Leinster and Ulster. ‘I found them unwilling to fight,’ says Hewson, ‘though their numbers be great.’ But they sometimes surprised and routed small bodies of troops, and they exhausted the country and made it impossible for the people to contribute towards the support[Pg 270] of the army. The detached Parliamentary garrisons could just hold their own, but were scarcely able to act on the offensive. Early in October Venables made an attempt on Ballinacargy, O’Reilly’s chief stronghold in Cavan, but was foiled, the Irish retreating to a bog whenever he advanced, and watching to intercept provisions, so that he had to return to Dundalk. It was evident that nothing of importance could be done as long as Limerick held out and kept the main strength of the army occupied. Even within a few miles of Dublin, Sherlock kept 2000 men among the mountains, and there was no force to attack him. Meanwhile, the coast was but carelessly guarded, no Government ships being seen between July and October. At Carrickfergus and at Wexford rovers took many English vessels out of the harbours, and it was as hard to get in the customs as the assessments from the country.[214]

After the failure of the boat attack in June, Ireton had been content to rest his hopes mainly on famine and on the plague which raged within the walls of Limerick. The garrison sometimes made signals with fire, but without result, and spies had not much chance. One poor woman brought a message from Roche, which might have caused a combined attack by the garrison and by his men in Clare, but she was caught and ‘hanged for fear of giving further intelligence.’ All attempts to escape from the doomed city were ruthlessly repressed. No threats were strong enough to deter these poor wretches, and an example was made by hanging two or three and having the rest driven back with whips. One old man desired to be hanged instead of his daughter, ‘but that,’ says Ludlow, ‘was refused, and he with the rest driven back into the town.’ A gibbet was then raised in sight of the walls upon which condemned criminals were hanged, and this stopped the exodus, but only for a time. Michaelmas came round without starving out the place, and Ireton, having[Pg 271] greatly strengthened his battering train, resumed active operations, for the winter was approaching, and an Irish soldier boasted from the walls that snowballs would beat bombshells. But heavy guns had been brought up from the ships, and the counsels of the defenders were divided. Overtures were made to Ireton early in October, but three weeks elapsed and a fresh bombardment began before the scale turned in favour of the party of surrender. The news of Worcester had probably destroyed all hope, but an actual breach was made before the decisive step was taken. A weak spot had hitherto escaped notice, where there was no counter-scarp in front and no mass of earth behind, and Ludlow thought it would soon have been untenable; but Ireton, who had no vanity, thought the sudden surrender ‘a mercy most seasonable at the beginning of winter.’ The English and Irish accounts agree that there were two parties in the beleaguered city, and it is possible that the weak place was pointed out by a deserter or by one of the commissioners who had been going and coming between city and camp. The charter required that a new mayor should be chosen on October 6, and the election resulted in the substitution of Peter Creagh, who was peacefully inclined, for Thomas Stretch, who had sworn that the city should be defended during his year of office. After more than two months of a mere blockade, ‘we began our approaches,’ says Ireton, ‘in one night, and finished our batteries and planted our guns the second, and next morning began to batter.’[215]

The articles offered to the besieged in June and July had been on the whole favourable, but an exception was made as to those who ‘committed the murders and outrages in the first insurrection before the first General Assembly.’ The members of that first Assembly and the clergy generally were also denied all protection, so that the city contained many desperate men, who naturally prolonged the siege as[Pg 272] far as possible. This mistake was not now repeated, but twenty-two persons were excepted by name, who were all known or believed to have deceived or overawed the generality of the people into ‘the obstinate holding out of the place.’ All spies and a single Welsh deserter were also excepted. Of those named, the most important were Hugh O’Neill, the governor, the Bishops of Emly and Limerick, Major-General Purcell, Ormonde’s old enemy, Alderman Fanning, and Geoffrey Barron, amongst the others being a few priests and friars. The corporation and the military officers met, and decided ‘that the treaty should go on, and that they should not stick for any person exempted, or to be exempted, from quarter of life or goods’; but when they met next morning to choose commissioners, the two bishops, accompanied by others of the clergy, appeared, and threatened to excommunicate them all ‘if they should deliver up the prelates to be slaughtered.’ But the danger was too pressing and ecclesiastical censures had become too common, so that the commissioners were named nevertheless. The sentence of excommunication and a perpetual interdict of the city were posted on the church doors, whereupon Colonel Fennell and others were sent to seize St. John’s Gate and the adjoining tower. O’Neill remonstrated, but Fennell said he had orders from the mayor and chief citizens. The governor, whose military authority at least had hitherto been unquestioned, then summoned a court-martial, but Fennell refused to appear. Lord Castleconnell took his part, so that no sentence was passed; and Fennell, who had the keys and some powder from the mayor, turned the guns upon the town, and said plainly that he would not leave his post until surrender was decided on. At last Ireton’s preparations were complete, and seventeen heavy shot were discharged with great effect against one spot in the wall, whereupon a drum was sent out and negotiations began in earnest. Two hundred ‘redcoats’ were admitted by Fennell into the gate-tower, and on October 27 the articles of capitulation were signed. According to one account, Fennell even threatened O’Neill with a pistol, when that brave soldier rode out alone and delivered[Pg 273] his sword to Ireton himself, who treated him honourably. Fennell was not among the twenty-two specially exempted from the benefit of the articles, but they did not protect him or others ‘from prosecution to justice in a judicial way for any crimes they might be guilty of.’ There is perhaps no positive evidence against him, though he has always been considered a traitor by writers on the Irish side. He was accused of a plot to give up Clonmel; and Castlehaven, who is not much given to calling names, accuses him of cowardice or treachery in quitting his post at Killaloe and flying to Limerick, after the fall of which, ‘Ireton, with more than his usual justice, hanged him. Some say he was carried to Cork and there pleaded for his defence how he had betrayed me before Youghal; but his judges would not hear him on his merits, but bid him clear himself of the murders laid to his charge.’[216]

Soldiers and citizens were allowed to go free, and time was given to remove personal property, but without any guarantee for lands or houses; and Ireton evidently contemplated a partial colonisation. The garrison of 2000 had been reduced to about 1200, who marched out after giving up their arms, and the city contained about 4000 other men capable of bearing arms, though about 5000 persons had perished ‘by the sword without and the famine and plague within.’ He was inclined to spare those who had not shown themselves irreconcilable; but there would still be plenty of room for settlers. In the meantime, he had himself to deal with as many of the excepted persons as he could catch. Besides the governor, ten of them voluntarily surrendered,[Pg 274] and their fate was reserved for further consideration. Some of the others were not caught, among them the Bishop of Limerick, who escaped in a soldier’s dress, joined Muskerry in Kerry, and died at Brussels in 1654. Ireton did not regret this, as he found that he had not been one of the violent party; he had formerly been well disposed to Ormonde. The Bishop of Emly took refuge in the pest-house, where he was quickly taken and hanged by order of a court-martial. He had been the soul of the defence all along, and has always been regarded as a martyr by those of his own faith. His head was placed over one of the gates, as were those of Stretch and of Purcell, who alone behaved in a pusillanimous manner. Five or six others were executed, including a priest named Walsh, who served as a captain, Sir Geoffrey Gallwey, Geoffrey Baron, and Dr. Higgins, a physician who, according to the military diarist, was ‘powder-maker and money-coiner to the besieged.’[217]

Hugh O’Neill was the last of that great clan who played an important part in Irish history, and he bore himself worthily. Ireton seems to have treated him personally with courtesy, but he influenced the court-martial against him because of the blood shed through his defence of Clonmel. He pleaded that the war had gone on long before he came upon the invitation of his countrymen, that he had always been a fair enemy, and that he had often advised the townsmen not to prolong a conflict which he had seen to be hopeless from the first; that he had carefully observed the capitulation by surrendering all stores, ‘without embezzlement, and his own person to the Deputy’; and that he was entitled to the benefit of the articles. Many of the officers, including Ludlow,[Pg 275] accepted his defence, and Ireton, ‘who was now entirely freed from his former manner of adhering to his own opinion, which had been observed to be his greatest infirmity,’ allowed a third vote after sentence of death had been twice passed. He was acquitted, sent to England in the same ship that carried Ireton’s embalmed body, and well treated in the Tower. After a few months he was released at the instance of the Spanish ambassador, on the ground that he was born in Flanders a vassal of the King of Spain, that he was not concerned in the first outbreak in Ireland ‘nor in the excesses which were committed at that time,’ and that he would be very useful in managing the Irish soldiers whom the Commonwealth allowed to be recruited for the Spanish service; and in the end this was agreed to. After the Restoration he wrote to Charles II. pointing out that his cousin John’s death had made him Earl of Tyrone, and asking the King to acknowledge him as such. The attainder was, of course, not reversed, and O’Neill, who was in bad health when he wrote, probably died not long after. The title of Earl of Tyrone was conferred on Lord Power in 1673.[218]

Geoffrey Barron had been sent early in 1642 to solicit Richelieu’s help for the Confederacy, and he had remained throughout one of its most irreconcileable partisans. He now pleaded that he had fought for the liberties of his country just as the English Puritans professed to do. Ireton thought it answer enough to say that Ireland was a conquered country, that the Irish had been only too well treated under Charles I., notwithstanding which they had robbed and murdered the English wholesale, and that in the matter of religion the Puritans fought to preserve their natural rights, whereas the Roman Catholics ‘would not be contented unless they might have power to compel all others to submit to their impositions upon pain of death.’ The two points of view were hopelessly opposed, and the court-martial were satisfied[Pg 276] with the Lord Deputy’s reasoning. During the short time that was left to him Barron is said to have looked out a wedding suit of white taffety, in which he was hanged, in the belief that his soul would ‘straight enjoy the pleasures of heaven, in the consummation of that eternal nuptial felicity.’[219]

Starvation had not done its work as Ireton had expected, but no horses were found in Limerick at its surrender, and they had probably been eaten. The besiegers commanded the estuary, and were in no want of provisions, but the waste among the men must have been considerable, less by actual fighting than by hardship and sickness. Reinforcements had, however, been poured into Ireland during the summer, and Ireton makes no complaint of insufficient numbers. An Act passed in April authorised the impressment of 10,000 men, and was not suffered to remain a dead letter. As early as June 25 nearly that number had been landed at Dublin or Waterford. They were of three classes, drafts from English garrisons, pressed men, and volunteer recruits. Some were too young for the work, and these were mainly among the volunteers. Money and ammunition was also ungrudgingly supplied, and no time was lost in following up the capture of Limerick. On November 1 Ludlow marched out to Inchecronan with 2000 foot and 1500 horse, and on the 4th, after some parleying, Clare Castle surrendered. Though very strong, it was evidently untenable now that the great siege was over. The guns lost in July were recovered, and about 230 men marched out with the honours of war and with power to go where they pleased. Those who desired protection were to have it, ‘except Romish priests, Jesuits, and friars.’ Carrigaholt also surrendered and was garrisoned, after which the whole of Clare was at the mercy of Parliament. Ireton joined Ludlow, and they visited the barony of Burren, ‘where there is not water to drown a man, wood enough to hang one, nor earth enough to bury him,’ but good pasture between the rocks. In riding through the Corofin district towards Ennis most of the horses cast their shoes among the crags; they carried spare ones, yet a single shoe was sold for[Pg 277] five shillings before night. Next morning came Lady Honora O’Brien, youngest daughter of the late Earl of Thomond and niece of his successor, who was accused of harbouring the enemies’ goods and cattle while herself enjoying the Lord Deputy’s protection. Ireton rebuked her, whereupon ‘she burst into tears, promising to mend her ways’, and begging Ludlow’s intercession, which was successful. ‘As much a cynic as I am,’ said Ireton, ‘the tears of this woman moved me.’[220]

The weather was very bad during this journey in Clare, and both generals caught bad colds. Ludlow’s constitution triumphed, and he lived till 1692, but Ireton succumbed. In spite of entreaties he had neglected his health during the siege, not putting ‘off his clothes all that time, except to change his linen,’ and never resting, though he was in a burning fever. Sir Robert King wondered that he was not as mad as a March hare, ‘pen, tongue, head or both, or all, incessantly at work.’ Ludlow was not with him when he died, and we have few particulars. In announcing his loss to Cromwell, the Commissioners call him an incomparable man, and it is certain that he had a high sense of duty and that he was not a self-seeker. Clarendon and others have thought that his republicanism might have prevented Cromwell’s rise to supreme power, but of this there is no evidence. There have been equally vain speculations as to whether Mirabeau, had he lived, could have stopped the French Revolution. Ireton had signed the death-warrant, and as a regicide was of course against restoring the Stuarts, but he was not a theoretical republican, though he would have disliked the supremacy of the army.[221]

[Pg 278]

CHAPTER XXXV

LAST PHASE OF THE WAR, 1652

Ireton wished to press on to Galway, and Ludlow thought it could easily be brought to surrender while the garrison were ‘under a great consternation by the loss of Limerick.’ But there was much sickness in the army, and officers generally were unwilling to begin another troublesome campaign in November. Coote, who had been for some time blockading Galway on the east side, came to the camp and gave his opinion against immediate action. He did not believe the place could be taken without attacking it on both sides. A bridge had been prepared for the short river between Lough Corrib and the sea, but the right bank was strongly fortified, and it would be impossible to throw it across. It would be necessary to go all round by Cong, where Clanricarde lay with 3000 men. Even if the passage were forced many rivers lay in the way, none of which were fordable in case of heavy rain, while horses could only be led from Cong to Aghenure near Oughterard, and from that on to Galway they could not travel at all. There was no forage in the country, and food and ammunition would have to be carried on the men’s backs. This reasoning prevailed, and Ireton wrote from before Clare Castle merely to offer the same terms as had been tendered to Limerick in July: ‘I will not,’ he said, alluding to what had happened at Waterford, ‘now do you the courtesy to summon you at such a distance, because your gravity once chid me for it as unadvisedly, but for the good men’s sake of the city who perhaps may not be so angry in the notion of a soldier’s honour, as to understand the quibbles of it ... though men of your unhappy breeding think such glorious trifling worth the sacrificing or venturing[Pg 279] of other men’s lives.’ He desired him therefore on peril of his head to communicate the offer made to the citizens. It was easy for Preston to answer that he fought in a good cause and that Ireton was risking men’s lives in a bad one, while his head and those of his friends were as ‘unsettled on their shoulders as any in the town.’ The mayor and aldermen answered in the same strain; and Ireton died a fortnight after the date of their letter. Ludlow was in Dublin at the moment, and the Commissioners made him commander-in-chief until the pleasure of Parliament should be further known.[222]

When Axtell left Ireland after his suspension by Ireton, he was captured by a rover at sea and carried to Scilly, then full of Irish soldiers who wished to kill him, the cause of his voyage having been made known by an intercepted letter from Weaver. Grenville or those about him knew that the islands could not be much longer in Royalist hands, and they feared retaliation. Axtell was therefore spared, and was back in Ireland and governor of Kilkenny soon after Ireton’s death. Blake occupied the little archipelago not many weeks later, Bishop Henry Leslie being among those whom he found there. ‘By the articles,’ the Bishop wrote, ‘I am to have my pass to go unto the North of Ireland, that is to say out of the frying pan into the fire; for there I shall be in more danger of the Scots than of the Parliament soldiers.’ In either company he was sure that his soul would be more vexed than Lot’s was in Sodom. As to the Irish soldiers, it was agreed that they should be sent to Ireland, recruited up to 2000, and disposed of as the King wished. Blake offered to take them all into Dunkirk and keep them there till Grenville could arrange for France or Spain, he giving his word of honour never to employ them against the Parliament. This was refused, and Grenville remained in England, most of the Irish soldiers probably finding their way abroad.[223]

[Pg 280]

During the winter of 1651 and 1652 there was thought to be some danger that the Dutch would retaliate for the Navigation Act by landing foreign troops in Ireland, facilitating instead of opposing the embarkation of the Duke of Lorraine, who was still expected long after he had abandoned his scheme. A general meeting of officers was held at Kilkenny just before Christmas, Coote having already been authorised to give the same terms to Galway as had already been offered to Limerick, provided they were accepted by January 9. It was now evident that all the strong places must soon be taken, and the deliberations at Kilkenny were chiefly directed against the guerrilla warfare, which was still formidable. The nature of the problem is set forth with great clearness in a report by Ludlow and his three colleagues in the Government to the Council of State. The great bogs were the chief difficulty. There are in these wastes many dry islands which were then generally wooded, and between them causeways along which horses could only go in single file. From such places the rebels could sally out at any time to harry the protected districts, thus depriving the army of its resources, while it was easy for them to secure their plunder. They were used to living in cabins and wading among swamps, where the English soldiers were a prey to dysentery from wet and cold. Ireton had successfully used rice to combat this disease, and large quantities were provided later by the London Government.

The soldiers were always ignorant of the designs and movements of the combatant Irish, for whom the country people acted as scouts, being ‘possessed of an opinion that the Parliament intend them no terms of mercy and therefore endeavouring to preserve them as those that stand between them and danger.’ It was estimated that 30,000 men were still in arms among the Irish, a few in garrisons, but for the most part lurking among woods and bogs. The plan adopted to subdue them was to make a Pale from the Boyne to the Barrow, and to destroy the means of subsistence elsewhere. No smiths, harness-makers, or armourers were allowed to ply their trade outside of garrisons, no beer, wine, or spirits[Pg 281] might be sold nor fairs and markets held beyond those limits. The county of Wicklow, with parts of Dublin, Kildare, and Carlow, was outside the new Pale and excluded from protection. All who resided within the doomed area after February 28 were to be treated as enemies, but permitted to live and graze their stock upon such waste or untenanted lands as might be assigned to them in the protected region. As soon as the appointed day had passed, Ludlow himself went to Talbotstown to plant a garrison, and then carefully searched Wicklow with horse and foot. Few people were met with, for they had look-out men on every hill, but all the houses and stores of corn were burned. ‘He was an idle soldier,’ wrote one officer, ‘that had not either a fat lamb, veal, pig, poultry, or all of them every night to his supper ... we have destroyed as much as would have served some thousands of them until next harvest.’[224]

The day fixed for the surrender of Galway with the benefit of the first articles offered to Limerick was allowed to pass, and Clanricarde on behalf of many of the nobility and clergy ‘with the corporation of Galway’ made proposals for a general peace. He was fain to profess, though he could hardly believe, that succours would come from his Majesty and allies; if these failed, he and the assembly for whom he acted were prepared to sell their lives as dearly as possible. Ludlow answered from Dublin ten days later that it belonged to Parliament to grant terms, that those who had already long since refused to hear reason could hardly be admitted at the eleventh hour, and that they were relying upon ‘vain and groundless expectations.’ He believed that moderate terms would still be granted in individual cases, but refused to grant a safe conduct for commissioners pretending to represent the general body in arms. Clanricarde did his best to prolong the resistance of Galway, but left the town when he saw that the inhabitants were not prepared to endure extremities. A sortie to gather[Pg 282] cattle led to heavy loss, and of two corn ships which attempted to relieve the besieged one was taken and the other forced upon the rocks of Arran. The town was, however, not invested on the west, and there was always a chance that reinforcements or supplies might be introduced from that side. Coote thought the place very strong, and was inclined even to exceed his authority in granting comparatively easy terms.[225]

There were dissensions within the walls of Galway as there had been at Limerick, and it is not easy to make out exactly what took place. The indefatigable Dean King left Charles at Stirling in June, just after Ireton had crossed the Shannon and when Coote had been some time in Connaught. He landed near Londonderry on the 20th and found his way to Galway by July 2. Bishop Lynch and others of the clergy tried to make out that he had not been with the King, and that his commission was a trick of Ormonde’s. This was easily disproved, and clerical help was promised on condition that the chiefs of the old Irish in Connaught should be made colonels. Ten were so promoted, but not one of them could muster over 500 men, and every one thought of little but defending his own castle. These petty strongholds were daily taken with the pick of the Irish soldiers inside. The Ulster forces for the most part disregarded Clanricarde’s summons, while those of Leinster, 3000 foot and 500 horse, dwindled daily and lived upon the spoil of the country, as there was no money to pay them, so that he thought it better to let them go back to their own province under the nominal generalship of Lord Westmeath. The only force upon which the unfortunate Deputy could rely was raised in his own county of Galway, and with these he kept an eye upon Coote’s army. Dean King found that the clergy generally, headed by Bourke of Tuam and French of Ferns, were hostile to the King’s government and anxious only for an accom[Pg 283]modation with the Parliament, in which they were supported by the Prestons father and son, by Sir Nicholas Plunket, and by Geoffrey Brown. The expectation of the Lorraine succours had paralysed all the Irish parties, so that no one exerted himself. The little that had been sent by the ducal pretender had been wasted or embezzled; ‘20,000l. whereof 6000l. defalked for the charge of the negotiations,’ 1000 stand of arms, 1000 barrels of badly damaged rye, and ‘thirty barrels of powder, the worst in the world.’ To make confusion worse confounded, some of the bishops were using Rinuccini’s old excommunication to crush their opponents. There were nevertheless nearly 30,000 men under arms, but no means of keeping them together, and there were many harbours still open in Connaught and Munster through which money and stores might be introduced. Dean King left Ireland on February 16 and reported to Charles at Paris on April 1; but the battle of Worcester had been fought and lost, and no help came.[226]

Clanricarde did what he could to prolong the defence of Galway, but the citizens could not see that there was anything to gain by it. He had agreed to approach Ludlow with proposals for a general pacification, but was determined to resist as long as he could. The town therefore acted without consulting him, though he was in the neighbourhood, and the articles of surrender contain no mention of King, Lord Lieutenant, or Deputy. Fear of famine and of hard terms when the inevitable end came were sufficient inducements to surrender, and there is no reason to suppose that Galway was betrayed in the common sense of the words, though in 1656 some of the inhabitants claimed special indulgence on the ground that they had favoured the English interest throughout the war, and had thereby ‘contracted a malice from those of their own nation’ among whom they had to live. Coote has a bad name on the score of severity, but he and many of those with him had estates in Ireland, and some of them in Connaught, and they did not see with the same eyes as those who were bent upon planting new[Pg 284] settlers everywhere. The extreme Independents called Coote and his men ‘Tame Tories,’ and there was jealousy of his position as President of Connaught. Ireton thought the provincial presidencies should be abolished, as an unnecessary burden to State and country, and the Commissioners in Dublin were of the same opinion. One hot-headed captain of the Munster army attached to that of Connaught wrote to say that Ireland being almost reduced, there was little left to do but to ‘fall on Sir Charles Coote and his ‘Tame Rebels.’’ The letter was intercepted, and Coote imprisoned the writer, whose curious defence was that many others agreed with him. Ludlow released him and blamed Coote for exercising authority over an officer not belonging to his province. From all this the Royalists had hopes, and no doubt Coote had never been a republican, but they had to wait several years for their realisation. In the meantime he was glad to get hold of Galway upon almost any terms.[227]

The conditions actually granted were not hard, and the Commissioners in Dublin thought them too easy. Quarter and freedom from pillage and military violence were granted to all, as long as they obeyed the Commonwealth of England, and were not guilty of murder before March 19, 1642, when a state of war began to exist in Galway. The murderers of Captain Clark’s crew were excepted by name. All who wished to depart were given six months to sell such property as they did not carry away. This extended to clergymen provided their names were given in before the actual surrender, but in their case no protection was to be given after that time. Where property within the city and liberties was sold one-third was to go to the State, and the rest to be freed from extraordinary taxation, and this principle was extended with qualifications to lands possessed by the townsmen elsewhere. The charter was maintained until Parliament should otherwise direct; and Coote promised to get a ratification within[Pg 285] twenty days by the Dublin Government and legislative confirmation in England as soon as possible. A fort on Mutton Island and another opposite Tirellan were surrendered at once, and the town, after one week’s delay, on April 12, when Coote took actual possession. The news reached Dublin on the 11th, and the Commissioners there at once took exception to some of the articles. They objected, and so far we can sympathise with them, to any indemnity for murder committed ‘by or upon any person not being in arms.’ They insisted on the power of compulsorily purchasing land or houses in the town when Parliament considered their owners unsafe persons to remain; in which case they would have to remove within three months. The protection as to outside property was considered too absolute, and should be left for parliamentary decision, and some minor matters were also reserved. An express was at once sent to insist on the amendment of the articles, with orders that the capitulation should be suspended until this was done, but when the messenger reached Galway he found the English garrison installed. The ratification of the articles was made dependent on the acceptance of the revised terms, but it can hardly be said that the condition was fulfilled. Only eight heads of families could be found to sign the certificate of assent, while over one hundred refused; and there were nearly a hundred absentees. Coote apologised for his mistake, but maintained that he had nevertheless done the best thing for the State. If he had not closed with the besieged there were great chances of the town being relieved, ‘so that it might have kept all your forces this summer in those parts to attend that service.’[228]

Clanricarde on his part announced that ‘Galway having basely and perfidiously yielded,’ he would resist while he could, and gave earnest of his determination by sending away Castlehaven in his only frigate, thus leaving himself no[Pg 286] means of escape. He summoned Westmeath and O’Ferrall from Leinster, Muskerry from Munster, and O’Reilly from Ulster to join him in Sligo or Leitrim and ‘unite in one clear score for God, our King, and country.’ Galway Bay was full of Parliamentary ships, so Castlehaven had to go first to Innisbofin and embark from there. He was chased, and had a smart fight at sea, but was saved by thick weather. Arthur Magennis, Bishop of Down, a nephew of Owen Roe O’Neill, died during the action ‘by the wind of a bullet, for fear,’ having no wound. Castlehaven got safely to Brest, and thence to Paris or St. Germain’s, where he saw the King and Queen and Ormonde. As French affairs then stood nothing could be done, and he joined Condé as a volunteer, after which he commanded an Irish brigade of about 5000 men. As late as 1680 he published his memoirs, confessedly to show that he was always a good Royalist and not to be confounded with the Irish ‘as a confederate Catholic, which in plain English is a rebel.’ Lord Anglesey, the son of Strafford’s Mountnorris, who was a great gainer by the Restoration settlement, reviewed Castlehaven’s pleasant little book, saying that ‘by a providence from heaven to the English the marquesses of Ormonde and Clanricarde, his Majesty’s chief governors, encouraged the Irish to keep up a war against the English, wherein they were so much hardened to their ruin, that they were at length entirely subdued without condition to any save for life, and left to be as miserable as they had made others in all respects.’[229]

It had long been evident to Clanricarde, as well as to Ormonde and his friends abroad, that the power of the Parliament would establish itself in Ireland. But it was their policy to keep the flag of Royalty flying as long as possible, on the chance of some foreign complication. That this stubborn attitude increased the ultimate sufferings of the Irish masses is very probable. As early as the beginning of[Pg 287] February, Charles, with many expressions of gratitude and confidence, gave Clanricarde free leave to quit Ireland when he thought fit, but adding that ‘the keeping up of the war there in any kind, either offensive or defensive, is of the highest importance to us and our service that can be performed; as the contrary would be of the greatest prejudice to all our designs.’ Six weeks later he wrote holding out hopes of further help from the Duke of Lorraine, and directing that no declaration should be issued which might increase the friction with the clerical party. The two letters reached Clanricarde together in the following August, when they were too late to have any significance. Meanwhile, in May, a second letter was given to Castlehaven, and forwarded by a sure hand, authorising the Deputy to leave his post at any time. This letter, though apparently not extant, probably reached its destination much sooner than the other two, and justified Clanricarde in making terms when he did. In the meantime, he succeeded in getting a considerable force together, with which, after blowing up several castles, he swooped down upon the fort at Ballyshannon and took it by assault, dismissing the survivors unhurt and substituting his own garrison of 300 men. He took Donegal also, but the success was only transient, for he had no means of feeding his men but by seizing cattle, and thus involuntarily making the task of the Parliamentarians easier. Venables came up from Down to join Coote, and they soon took Sligo and retook the other two places, giving punctual quarter in their turn. At the end of June the Lord Deputy, who, Ludlow says, was practically surrounded in the island of Carrick, made terms for himself, but none for his vast estates. He was left free to go abroad where he pleased with not more than twenty servants, to remain in Ireland for three months, and to enlist 3000 men for foreign service. In the meantime he was to divest himself of his viceregal authority and do no hostile act. Six weeks later he was excepted by Act of the English Parliament from pardon for life and estate, but was nevertheless left unmolested at his own place at Somerhill in Kent. His health had never been good, and was not improved by[Pg 288] his campaigning, but he lived till 1657, and was buried in Tonbridge Church. He was not a great general, but to most people he appeared, and still appears, as a loyal and worthy man. To the ultramontane clergy of his own day he was, as an independent Catholic who cared little for a nuncio’s censures, more hateful even than the heretic Ormonde. Bishop French says he put Cæsar before God, and Bishop Lynch that the Ulster men refused to follow him because he disdained to receive absolution from Rinuccini’s excommunication. The British officer so often quoted says, on the contrary, that the Irish were well satisfied with him as true both to King and Church, ‘being a good Roman Catholic,’ and that he surrendered only because he could not fight Coote and Venables combined. ‘Neither, indeed, was he ever practised in that trade [war], though a very fine, devout, liberal, hospitable gentleman, as any is in Ireland in his time, as I have heard many aver.’[230]

Before finally leaving Clanricarde and the Duke of Lorraine something must be said of the case of Anthony Geohegan, which had no important results, but which shows how incompatible were the Royalist and clerical ideals. Geohegan had been preferred by Rinuccini at the early age of twenty-four to the nominal dignity of the mitred abbacy of Connall. Towards the end of 1650 he was studying divinity and canon law at Paris, and in correspondence with Abbot Crelly, who was in London, hoping against hope that the Parliament would grant toleration to his Church. He offered to go to Ireland if wanted, and Crelly reported this to Rome. Dean Massari, Rinuccini’s old lieutenant, was Secretary of Propaganda, and gladly accepted the young priest’s offer. He reached Galway on March 14, 1651, while De Henin was there, with instructions to further the appointment of a Catholic protector, and he stayed on after the[Pg 289] Lorraine envoy’s departure. Clanricarde suspected that he was working against him, and some of his letters were intercepted, in one of which he said that ‘if the service of God had been as deep in the hearts of our nation as that idol of Dagon, a foolish loyalty, a better course for their honour and preservation had been taken in time.’ He had noticed that at Limerick those favourable to Ormonde had got better terms than others, and he thought the Independents who professed liberty of conscience more likely to grant reasonable terms to the Irish than those who maintained the Church of England and the recusancy laws. Clanricarde would have tried Geohegan as a traitor, but the clergy took their stand upon the bull In Cœna Domini, and maintained that no lay governor or judge could try a priest. They had their way, and Geohegan was, of course, exonerated from all blame.[231]

Even before the surrender of Galway, the Irish leaders began to make terms for themselves and their followers. Of these, the first was John Fitzpatrick, who had lately distinguished himself by taking and holding Meelick. On March 7 he agreed to transport 4000 foot and 300 horse to a state in amity with the Commonwealth, pay being given to them in the meantime, and hopes were held out as to his property. He made no conditions for his father and mother, or for the Catholic religion; whereupon a declaration was published against him, and he was excommunicated. ‘Some of his party,’ say the Parliamentary Commissioners, ‘have been cut off by the enemy, who did also cut off the ears of some whom they took prisoners.’ The men were not popular, having lived by plunder, and the Government were glad to send them to Spain. Fitzpatrick and his father were both excluded by Act of Parliament from pardon for life or estate, but he afterwards married Ormonde’s sister and was restored in 1661 to broad lands in the Queen’s County. His mother, says Ludlow, ‘was found guilty of the murder of the English, with this aggravation, that she said she would make candles[Pg 290] of their fat. She was condemned to be burned, and the sentence was executed accordingly.’[232]

The next important chief to surrender was Colonel Edmund O’Dwyer, who commanded in Tipperary and Waterford. He and his men had quarter for life and personal property only, with liberty to serve any friendly foreign State. Murderers of the English, members of the first General Assembly or Supreme Council, homicides after quarter given, deserters, and every ‘priest or other of the Romish clergy in orders,’ were excluded. By the end of June, when Clanricarde came to terms, the Parliament had not many enemies left in the field, though a few strongholds held out for some months longer. The articles of surrender, or authentic copies, are for the most part extant, and the terms granted generally amounted to little more than life and personal liberty to those who had not committed murder. Where priests are not specially excluded, they are generally left tacitly to the mercy of the victors. Landed property was to be distributed according to such qualifications as Parliament might determine. In one case Sir Hardress Waller undertook ‘industriously to solicit’ the authorities that priests who were not charged with any crime except officiating as such should be free to go beyond seas.[233]

There was a Parliamentary garrison at Dingle, which Muskerry made some effort to take, but otherwise Kerry had for a long time been in Irish hands. Murtagh O’Brien, when driven out of Clare after the fall of Limerick, joined his forces to those of Lord Muskerry, and together they amounted to several thousands. Their chief stronghold was Ross Castle,[Pg 291] in an island or peninsula on the lower Lake of Killarney, only approachable, as any tourist may now witness, by a narrow causeway with a bog on either side. Muskerry had been chief among the anti-nuncionist Catholics, and had never been forgiven by the priests of his own Church, many of whom had taken refuge in Ross Castle. When a siege was imminent, the clerical party went out—and no doubt they acted prudently in this—but a thousand well-armed men adhered to their general and resolved to hold out as long as possible. Ludlow, accompanied by Broghill and Walker, came to Killarney very early in June with 4000 foot and 2000 horse. Dromagh had already surrendered, so that his rear was exposed to no attack. The woods on the other side of the lake were full of active enemies, who must have had boats of some sort to reach Innisfallen, and who supplied Ross with provisions. Ludlow’s fellow-Commissioners were at Cork, and the mitred Scoutmaster-General at Kinsale, and they quickly provided him with the means of reducing Ross. Boats were brought to Castlemaine harbour under convoy of a frigate. Of these some were probably dragged up the Laune with the help of many men. The two largest, which were intended to carry guns, were sent from Kinsale in pieces, but so that they could be put together in two days. In order to make a safe way for them it was necessary to disperse a strong force of the Irish about Killagh Abbey, near the mouth of the Laune, while another division scoured the woods and put those who occupied them to flight. This was on June 13; five days later several of the boats had been brought to Ludlow’s entrenchments near Ross, and by the 20th they were swimming on the lake. The whole flotilla was not wanted, for the garrison saw that resistance was hopeless, and there was an ancient prophecy that Ross would not be taken until strange ships sailed on Lough Leane. The fitting and management of the boats was entrusted to Captain Chudleigh, who had been a ship-carpenter, and many artificers went readily because he was with them.[234]

[Pg 292]

Even after the surrender of Galway the Leinster army under Westmeath’s command had still an administrative existence; but its leaders saw no prospect of ultimate success, and were ready to make such terms as might still be possible. The Parliamentary Commissioners were at Kilkenny on April 17, and had a conference with the chief officers of the army, where Dr. Jones, the Scoutmaster-General, produced an abstract of the depositions taken as to murders committed in the early days of the rebellion. This document was forwarded to Parliament and read there on May 18, the Commissioners and officers ‘fearing lest others who are at a greater distance might be moved to the lenity which we have found no small temptation in ourselves,’ forget past abominations, and make too tender concessions. But very few of the English who had any personal knowledge of the original massacres were still living, and it would therefore be hard to bring the guilt home to individuals. The whole Irish nation had to some extent condoned them, and Parliament was bound to take order for punishment ‘in duty towards God, the great avenger of such villainies, who hath from the beginning of the war to this present always in your appeal by war against them appeared most signally.’ Murderers or their aiders and abettors were not led to expect clemency, but the Commissioners declared that all persons living in Ireland should have the benefit of the Act dated September 27, 1650, repealing the clauses in Elizabethan statutes which imposed penalties for not going to church. This was a step in the direction of toleration, but the Act had been really intended for the relief of those who disliked the Book of Common Prayer, and provided also for the prosecution of those who did not attend[Pg 293] some place of worship, and would be difficult to apply to those who would have nothing but the forbidden mass.[235]

After much discussion, it was agreed that eleven regiments of foot and six of horse should lay down their arms by June 1 at Mullingar, Maryborough, Carlow, or Kildare. The military articles were liberal enough, officers retaining horses and arms, non-commissioned officers and men whose horses were taken receiving compensation. Officers were allowed to serve any foreign State in amity with the Commonwealth, and to carry 6000 men with them, the Commissioners undertaking to get leave for 6000 more if they could. Life and personal estate were secured, and owners of land were promised ‘equal benefit with others in the like qualification with themselves,’ when Parliament had made up its mind. Murder and robbery of persons not in arms might still be questioned ‘according the due course of law,’ and the benefit of the articles was withheld from those who killed Parliamentary soldiers after quarter given. ‘Priests or Jesuits, or others in Popish orders,’ were to be dealt with as the Irish Government thought fit. The Commissioners were well satisfied with their work, which they had been obliged to do without positive orders from Parliament, for the Irish, being driven out of all forts, had nothing to do but range about the country, ‘retiring as they saw advantage to their bogs and fastnesses.’ The Parliamentary officers had now for the first time leisure to deal with Clanricarde and with Muskerry, who had 3000 foot and 600 horse.[236]

Muskerry and his party accepted the substance of the Leinster articles, but there was a fortnight’s debate on certain points. The Irish officers feared lest they should be all held liable for the murder of the English, ‘which,’ says Ludlow,[Pg 294] ‘was an exception we never failed to make.’ An explanatory article was therefore granted, limiting the guilt to those ‘who during the first year of the war have contrived, aided, assisted, acted, or abetted any murder or massacre upon any person or persons of the English not in arms but following their own occupation in their farms or freeholds,’ and to those who since that time had taken life knowing that quarter had been given or protection granted. As to religion, Ludlow and his colleagues would go no further than declare ‘that it is not our intention nor, as we conceive, the intention of those whom we serve, to force any to their worship and service contrary to their consciences.’ Questions as to real estate were, at the request of Muskerry and his friends, ‘left to the pleasure of the Parliament,’ means being given them for pleading their own cause in London. They themselves asked for this in preference to the clause as to qualifications in the Leinster articles. In consideration of the above, 960 able men marched out of Ross Castle, and at least 3000 more followed their example. Murtagh O’Brien, with about 200 men, kept at large in the Kerry mountains until Waller made them untenable, and then escaped across the Shannon, to give further trouble in Connaught.[237]

Colonel Richard Grace, whose property was in King’s County, did not accept the Kilkenny articles, but remained at the head of a considerable force, and burned Birr, which had been partly rebuilt. Three hundred pounds was offered for his head in a proclamation dated May 22, but he managed to cross the Shannon, and burned the towns of Portumna and Loughrea. The country was laid under contribution, and for some days no enemy appeared. Grace had near 3000 men, but they were but odds and ends from various quarters, and were easily surprised by Ingoldsby, who routed the Irish horse and drove the foot into a bog near Loughrea. Grace had to fly with a few men, after which many of his[Pg 295] followers dispersed or made terms for themselves. This was on June 20. He managed to recross the river into Leinster and again got some men together, with whom he at last took refuge in a strongly fortified island in Lough Coura, near Birr. Sankey surrounded the lake and made preparations for starving out the party, and Grace, who saw there was no prospect of relief, sued for terms. To avoid a long siege, and also perhaps out of admiration for a brave enemy, Sankey granted the substance of the Kilkenny articles and some further indulgence for the clergy submitting with Grace, who is much praised by the Aphorismical Discovery for insisting on the latter. The priests concerned had leave and four months’ time to go beyond sea, with protection in the interval, and a further respite in case of sickness or want of shipping. In the other cases, they had been left at the disposition of the Lord Deputy or Commissioners. Grace had had nothing to do with the original Irish rebellion, but had fought for the King in England until the surrender of Oxford, so that there was some personal reason for favouring him. He carried 1200 men to Spain, but the Government there broke all their agreements with him, and he lost half his regiment by starvation, desertion, and disease. He attached himself to the Duke of York, and died at Athlone fighting against William III. in 1691.[238]

After the surrender of Muskerry, Ludlow turned his attention to Wicklow and Wexford, where Phelim MacHugh O’Byrne and others still had a considerable force under arms. He placed garrisons in suitable places, who reduced the Irish by destroying their means of subsistence. The green corn was cut and burned, and in a few months the soldiers knew every hiding-place as well as the mountaineers themselves. Early in August, Ludlow turned northwards and garrisoned Carrickmacross. Between that place and Dundalk he came to a cave where a number of men had[Pg 296] taken refuge. The soldiers tried to smoke them out, and entered when they supposed them smothered, but the leader was killed by a pistol from inside. It turned out that the cave was ventilated by a hole some way off, and Ludlow ordered this to be stopped. After a time groans were heard, which soon grew fainter, and the man who had fired the shot was drawn out dead. ‘The passage being cleared, the soldiers entered, and, having put about fifteen to the sword, brought four or five out alive, with the priest’s robes, a crucifix, chalice, and other furniture of that kind. Those within preserved themselves by laying their heads close to water that ran through the rock. We found two rooms in the place, one of which was large enough to turn a pike.’ This is not a nice story; but Ludlow, who wrote in cold blood long afterwards, does not offer any apology nor show that he thought any necessary. Nearly two hundred years later the French in Algiers did the same thing on a much larger scale, but they knew that public opinion would be against them, and it was. St. Arnaud did not even venture to tell his own men that five hundred enemies of both sexes and all ages lay suffocated in the cave.[239]

After filling the mouth of the cave with large stones, Ludlow established posts at Castle Blayney and Agher, where he found one of the O’Neills living with his wife, whom he described as the Duchess of Artois’ niece, and some children. They wandered about with the cattle as ‘creaghts,’ seeking for grass and water, and at each halt building a house ‘in an hour or two.’ Steps were soon afterwards taken to abolish this system, as one ‘whereby the enemy comes to be relieved and sustained and the contribution oft damaged.’ It was impossible to catch people who had no fixed abode, and who might even commit murder with every chance of impunity. Lisnaskea was fortified and small holds of the Irish at Bel[Pg 297]turbet and in one of the Lough Erne islands were taken. Reynolds, who had reduced Leitrim, joined Ludlow at Lisnaskea, and the news of Fleetwood’s arrival reached them there. Ludlow says he was glad to be superseded, his exertions for the public having been ‘recompensed only with envy and hatred,’ and he hastened to join the new commander-in-chief at Kilkenny.[240]

[Pg 298]

CHAPTER XXXVI

END OF THE WAR, AND ITS PRICE

The historian Cox says that he could find nothing that looked like war during the year 1653, though the rebellion was not officially declared at an end until September 26. The early part of the year cannot, however, be considered as peaceful. There was still some resistance in Ulster, and the Irish also possessed a fortified post in the island of Innisbofin. To that remote stronghold Murtagh O’Brien had repaired after Muskerry’s surrender, and with the help of some arms and ammunition from the Duke of Lorraine he continued to give trouble on the mainland. The fort of Arkin on the great island of Arran had been surprised through ‘the supine carelessness and negligence of Captain Dyas’ shortly before Fleetwood’s arrival, and the Irish garrison under Colonel Oliver Synnot did not surrender until the middle of January. Among those who took refuge in Innisbofin were Roger O’More, the original contriver of the rebellion, Bishop Lynch of Clonfert, Brian MacPhelim O’Byrne, and Colonel Dudley Costello. The governor was Colonel George Cusack, whose family had property in the Pale, and he soon came to terms with Reynolds. The islands of Bofin, Turk, and Clare were surrendered and facilities were given for transporting 1000 men into the Spanish service. The officers retained their arms, ‘prelates and clergymen’ being allowed to go with the rest. Some of the articles were more indulgent than usual, but Colonel Jones thought them ‘suitable to the difficulty of gaining that place by force.’ Only a few days before, near the neighbouring castle of Renvyle, on the mainland, 270 men who were on their way to attack Bofin fell into an ambuscade of 800 Irish, and only got through with the loss of four officers and forty-six men. According to the Aphorismical Discovery, O’More, who could expect no mercy if captured, was basely[Pg 299] deserted by Cusack and the Bishop of Clonfert. Donogh O’Flaherty, who was also left behind, was shot by the soldiers; but O’More, after enduring great hardships, got away to Ulster and lived for some time as a fisherman.[241]

In the same month of February fighting continued in West Cork and Kerry among the O’Sullivans and O’Driscolls, some of whom took up arms after their inclusion in the Muskerry articles; and there were still a few desperate men for the garrisons of Cork and Limerick to hunt. But the last stronghold was the island in Lough Oughter, where Bedell had died in the first year of the war. In February, Colonel Barrow came to the lake, burned some of the defenders’ boats ‘with a fiery float,’ and their corn with incendiary missiles, but had the ill luck to be captured himself and held to ransom. This was probably the work of some loose band which remained in arms after the capitulation of the garrison at the end of April. The articles concluded were between Sir Theophilus Jones and Philip O’Reilly on behalf of himself and the other Ulster chiefs still remaining under arms. The terms were much the same as had been granted in other recent cases, and included liberty to make terms with the Spanish recruiting agents. Priests and others in Roman orders were given a month to leave the country, on condition that they did not exercise their function during the interval. Those guilty of murder, whether lay or cleric, were as usual excluded, and a murderer was specially defined as one ‘who had actually a hand in a particular murder or did command the same, or was present when a particular murder was committed by persons under his command by his order.’ It was no murder to have killed a man in fight in the open field at any time since the beginning of the war.[242]

[Pg 300]

Mountjoy had long since proved that the way to subdue Ireland was to destroy the means of subsistence. As one of the Commissioners of Parliament, Colonel Jones was of opinion that no lasting peace could be made ‘but by removing all heads of septs and priests and men of knowledge in arms, or otherwise in repute, out of this land, and breaking all kinds of interest among them, and by laying waste all fast countries in Ireland, and suffer no mankind to live there but within garrisons,’ adding that declarations were about to issue for laying waste all Kerry and Wicklow, and portions—in some instances the greater part—of seventeen other counties. This was written shortly before the surrender of Cloughoughter, and after that the guerrilla warfare degenerated into mere brigandage. We are not to suppose that the whole ruthless programme was carried out; but no doubt the facts were bad enough. Ludlow was Jones’s colleague, and he speaks of the ‘poor wasted country of Ireland,’ adding that the Irish had always exhausted the land by bad cultivation, and of late worse than ever, ‘being in daily apprehensions of being removed.’ Not long afterwards Petty found the people living on potatoes, and the cultivation of that dangerous root must have been stimulated by the confusion of the past twelve years. It was then and for many years later the practice to dig out the tubers just as they were wanted. Such a crop could not well be carried away or destroyed, and if the sowers escaped the sword they would find something to eat for nine months out of the twelve; while corn could be easily cut or burned, and cattle still more easily driven off. The famine caused by war and by the destruction of food in districts not under protection was accompanied by the plague, which was rife in Galway and many other places. ‘It fearfully broke out in Cashel,’ says Jones, ‘the people being taken suddenly with madness, whereof they die instantly; twenty died in that manner in three days in that little town.’ Dublin did not escape. ‘About the years 1652 and 1653,’ says Colonel Lawrence, who had every opportunity of judging, ‘the plague and famine had swept away whole countries that a man might travel twenty or thirty[Pg 301] miles and not see a living creature, either man, beast, or bird, they being either all dead or had quit those desolate places.’ He had himself seen starving wretches pick carrion out of a ditch, and had heard of cases in which human flesh was eaten. Wolves increased enormously, and rewards were given for their heads.[243]

While the war still raged, Roman Catholic priests were for the most part either not mentioned in capitulations or specially excluded from the benefit of them. At Limerick some were excepted by name, and all were refused protection; but later the terms were not quite so rigorous. At Galway they were allowed six months to leave the country. At Roscommon the chaplain was allowed to go out with the garrison. When the Clare brigade surrendered to Waller, all persons in Roman orders were excepted, but he covenanted ‘industriously to solicit the Commissioners of Parliament that such of the clergy in orders, having no other act or crime laid to their charge than officiating their functions as priests, not being suffered to live in quarters or protection, shall have passes and liberty to go beyond the seas.’ Reynolds did much the same in Ulster. A large number of the clergy fled to Innisbofin, and when it was surrendered they were all given protection for life and goods, with leave to accompany the garrison abroad. At Cloughoughter, which was the last fortified place, they were given a month to go, provided they did not officiate in the meanwhile. Out of a great many extant letters from fugitive priests, that of a Dominican friar named O’Conor may be singled out. The brethren of his Order had, he says, continually roused Catholics by preaching to the soldiers and inciting the nobles to take up arms, living constantly among them in the woods and mountains, and opposing every proposal for surrender or capitulation. He himself had been prior of Kilkenny, where he strenuously supported Rinuccini, and was therefore thrice condemned to banishment by the Supreme Council, ‘having[Pg 302] excited the anger of all heretics and bad Catholics.’ After the fall of Kilkenny he became prior of Burrishoole, in Mayo, where his convent was for three years the refuge of religious persons. Two attacks were beaten off, but at last the place was taken by storm. The soldiers were killed and some of the friars; others fled to the mountains. Accompanied by one boy, he took a skiff made out of a single log and went six leagues into the open ocean, almost miraculously making his way to Innisbofin. After a short time, seven Parliamentary ships with twenty-two boats hove in sight, and it became necessary to surrender the island. He was transported with the rest, on pain of death if he revisited Ireland, where an edict had been published exiling all ecclesiastics on the same terms, with severe penalties against all who helped them.[244]

The edict mentioned by Father O’Conor and by many other clerical writers of the same time was an order, signed by Fleetwood, Ludlow, Corbet, and Jones, setting forth the experience of many years, ‘that Jesuits, seminary priests, and persons in Popish orders in Ireland, estrange the people from due obedience to the English Commonwealth, and, under pretence of religion, excite them to rebellion, which gave rise to the barbarous murders of 1641 and the destructive war which followed.’ They were all to leave Ireland within twenty days, or incur the penalties of the English Act, 27 Elizabeth, which had never been the law of Ireland, and which made the priests traitors and their abettors felons.[245]

Chichester strove to get the swordsmen of Ulster into the[Pg 303] Swedish service, where they might help the Protestant cause almost without knowing it. After the disbanding of Strafford’s army the English Parliament had very naturally, but very unwisely, prevented the men from going to Spain, thus aggravating, if not actually causing, the outbreak in 1641. Cromwell profited by experience, and saw that even in the service of the Catholic king the survivors of the Irish war would be much less dangerous than in their own country. At the beginning of 1653 the Commissioners reported that 13,000 had already gone, but that there were still left ‘many desperate rogues who know not how to live but by robbing and stealing out of bogs and fastnesses.’ By July the number had risen to 27,000. There were, says Petty, who was in Ireland at the time and whose estimate is rather under that of his friend Gookin, ‘transported of them into Spain, Flanders, France, 34,000 soldiers; and of boys, women, priests, &c., no less than 6000 more,’ of whom not half had returned in 1672. The Spanish Government broke all their promises and treated the Irish officers and soldiers very badly, so that whole regiments passed over from time to time into the service of France. In both services the dissensions which had been so fatal in Ireland continued between Celts and Anglo-Irish and between Ormondists and Nuncionists. Hyde, who knew Spain and had suffered many things there, excuses the desertions in Catalonia, which were stimulated by Inchiquin, and the ill-conduct of the Irish at Bordeaux, which caused the loss of that city, by the extreme ill-usage which they had received from the Spanish authorities. There were many needy Irish officers in London who were glad to contract with Cardenas for the transport of men. Philip found money enough to make this remunerative, but when the Irish were once landed in his country no further trouble was taken. ‘The soldiers, who were crowded more together into one ship than was fit for so long voyages, had contracted many diseases, and many were dead and thrown overboard. As soon as they came upon the coast the officers made haste to land, how far soever from the place at which they stood bound to deliver their men; by which in those places which[Pg 304] could make resistance they were not suffered to land, and in others no provision was made for their reception on march; but very great numbers were starved or knocked in the head by the country people.’ All this, Clarendon adds, ‘manifested how loose the government was.’ Mazarin managed much better. The passage to France was shorter, and he took care that there should be no want of shipping and better accommodation on landing, so that at least 20,000 Irishmen came into the French service, though from old associations they would have preferred that of Spain. And the historian notes that Cromwell had been able to send abroad 40,000 men who would have been enough to drive him out of England; while the King’s Lieutenant, notwithstanding all the promises, obligations, and contracts which the Confederate Roman Catholics had made to and with him, could not draw together a body of 5000 men.[246]

On June 8 Fleetwood married Ireton’s widow, and on July 10 his father-in-law made him commander-in-chief in Ireland. In the following month he was appointed by Parliament a commissioner for the civil government along with the regicides Ludlow, Corbet, and Jones, and John Weaver, the member for Stamford. Fleetwood was in Ireland by the beginning of September, but there was not much left for a general to do except to superintend the reduction of the army. The dregs of the war had to be dealt with first, but the Commissioners were given great powers in the domain of law and justice, and their first care was for the punishment of those to whom murder could be brought home. Doctor Jones had already received orders to collect evidence. A High Court was erected in Dublin under Chief[Pg 305] Justice Lowther, who issued commissions to find and examine witnesses in the country. Local courts were also established, the first of which, consisting of Justices Donnellan and Cook and Commissary-General Reynolds, sat on October 4 at Kilkenny in the room where the Supreme Council had been used to meet. Notwithstanding the difficulty of getting evidence eleven years after the first outbreak, sixteen persons were found guilty at Kilkenny, six at Clonmel, and thirty-two at Cork; and we are told that most of these were very considerable men, heads of septs or otherwise important. The High Court in Dublin did not sit until January.[247]

It was considered murder to kill persons not in arms or who had been received to quarter, and this was the general principle on which prosecutions were based. The record is imperfect, but Cox estimated that not above two hundred died by the hands of the common executioner, though many murderers had perished by the sword or by disease. Hearsay evidence was probably admitted to an extent which would not be dreamed of in our days, but trials were carefully conducted, and there were a great many acquittals. Of the original insurgents surviving, by far the most important were Sir Phelim O’Neill, who had lurked in Tyrone since the surrender of Charlemont, where his wife remained. Early in 1653 he ventured, with a view of communicating with her, to take up his abode in an old house on an island in Roghan Lough, near Coalisland, accompanied by Tirlogh Groom O’Quin and a score of soldiers. His messenger was a follower named O’Hugh, who was under protection at Charlemont, and Lord Caulfield’s attention was thus roused. The little lake was surrounded and boats were launched upon it, and the island, which was very near the shore, was quite indefensible even against musketry. Sir Phelim surrendered, and was taken to Carrickfergus, where he was very civilly treated by[Pg 306] Venables, who had found him a gallant enemy. He was sent off to Dublin and tried there upon the last day of February, his companions, with the exception of O’Quin, being released.[248]

O’Neill was sentenced to death for high treason and for four murders proved against him, according to the judge’s notes. That he had levied war against the King is obvious, and the question is not worth discussing. He was not accused of murdering any one with his own hand, but as an accessory before the fact or by giving orders to the actual assassins. In the case of Lord Caulfield the fragments of evidence which we possess do not make the facts absolutely clear. The original capture was treacherous in the highest degree, and the murder was committed by Sir Phelim’s foster-brother. The young lord had been over five months O’Neill’s prisoner at or near Charlemont, and according to one witness he directed the escort to take him to Cloughoughter, in Cavan. Sir Phelim’s own house at Kinard was the first halting-place, and there the deed was done, fifteen or sixteen of Caulfield’s Scotch and English dependants being slaughtered at the same time. O’Neill was not present, but he had used very suspicious language shortly before, and the assassin was allowed to escape in his gaoler’s company, and was not caught. Of three warders, one who was an Irishman was not punished, while the other two, being English and Scotch, were duly hanged by Sir Phelim’s orders. The gaoler was restored to his post at Armagh. In all the cases much of the evidence is hearsay; but the murders charged, with many others, were committed within a few miles of Charlemont, and Sir Phelim, who commanded in chief, never punished anybody. Michael Harrison swore that in December 1641 he heard O’Neill say, ‘with great ostentation, that he would never leave off the work he had begun until mass[Pg 307] should be sung or said in every church in Ireland, and that a Protestant should not live in Ireland, be he of what nation he would.’[249]

O’Neill was hanged, drawn, and quartered, one quarter being impaled at Lisburn, which he had burned; another at Dundalk, which he had taken; a third at Drogheda, which he had vainly besieged; and a fourth, with the head, at Dublin, which he had plotted to surprise. Tirlogh Groom O’Quin, who was captured with him and who had been his close associate in the early days of the rebellion, was executed later, and his head set upon the west gate of Carrickfergus. There has been much discussion as to the exact relation of Sir Phelim and the other original conspirators to Charles I., and the declaration of Dean Ker in 1681 was long accepted as evidence. Attempts have been made to set aside Ker’s statement, on the ground that he wanted to be a bishop, that he spoke twenty-eight years after the fact, and that it was impossible that things which happened in open court should have remained doubtful for so long. It is certain that he never became a bishop, and there is nothing to prove that he wished to be one. By his own showing he had often mentioned the matter to his friend or patron, Lord Lanesborough, who at last persuaded him to write it down. There is never anything extraordinary in London being ignorant of what happens in Dublin; and after the Restoration no one had any interest in recalling the proceedings of the Cromwellian High Court there. The late King’s position as a saint and martyr was then undisputed, and the Church of England was not on her defence. A more important difficulty is that the Dean says he heard Michael Harrison, who only saved his life by acting as secretary to Sir Phelim, confess in open court that he attached the Great Seal to a sham commission, and that O’Neill, when pressed by the judges, answered[Pg 308] ‘that no man could blame him to promote that cause he had so far engaged in.’ In his sworn deposition Harrison says Sir Phelim had often spoken of a commission from the King, but he had never been able to get a sight of it, though it was generally believed to exist. It seems certain that a sham commission of some sort was shown not only in Ulster but in Munster; and there is no difficulty about believing that O’Neill should not have wished to die with a lie in his mouth, or that hopes of mercy should have been held out to him if he would implicate Charles. If the commission were forged, it matters little whether the seal was that of England or Scotland; either would do to exhibit at a distance. We know from the judge’s notes that O’Neill was believed to have altered a genuine document, and that a copy was produced in court. It is not impossible that Harrison may have been employed to affix a seal to some instrument which he had not been allowed to read. The memory of Charles I. has much to bear, but he could not have given a commission authorising a general insurrection. He had been angling for Roman Catholic help before the outbreak of the rebellion, and many may have been persuaded that they were doing his will by rising against the Lords Justices; but it is not at all likely that any of the leaders were of this opinion.[250]

Lord Muskerry was not one of the first conspirators, but he joined the movement soon after it had spread to[Pg 309] Munster. After the surrender of Ross Castle he went to Spain, but he had been a determined opponent of Rinuccini, and he found the clergy so hostile that his life was not safe. At Lisbon his reception was little better, and he gave up his plan of raising troops for the Peninsula, returned to Cork, and threw himself upon the mercy of Parliament. This was in February 1653, and he remained a prisoner in Dublin until his trial in December. In the meantime Lady Ormonde had arrived there, and naturally interested herself in his behalf. If Carte was rightly informed, Lowther did what he could by privately informing her of the line which the prosecution would take, and so enabling the prisoner to be prepared for his defence at all points. He was not tried for treason, but as accessory to the murder of Mrs. Hussey and others in 1642; and this resulted in an acquittal. There was another charge for the murder of William Deane and others, also in 1642, and it was held that the prosecutors had proved the facts, but that the prisoner had no real share in what was done, and was in any case protected by the Ross articles. It was, moreover, shown that he often acted a humane and merciful part. A separate count, for the murder of Roger Skinner, also resulted in an acquittal. Muskerry was not finally discharged for some months, and this delay may have been caused by the discovery that a printed copy of the Ross articles produced on the trial differed from the original which had been retained by Ludlow. He was charged in May 1654 with the murder of a man and woman unknown, but there was a verdict of ‘Not Guilty.’ Muskerry’s speech after his acquittal on the Hussey and Deane charges has been preserved. He admitted that he had had a fair trial, and that if there had been any leaning it was in his favour. ‘I met,’ he said, ‘many crosses in Spain and Portugal. I could get no rest till I came hither, and the crosses I met here are much affliction to me; but when I consider that in this court I come clear out of that blackness of blood by being so sifted, it is more to me than my estate. I can live without my estate, but not without my credit.’ He raised[Pg 310] men for the Venetian service, and went later to Poland, and regained most of his property after the Restoration.[251]

Another remarkable case was that of Edmund O’Reilly, then or later vicar-general of Dublin and afterwards Primate, for the murder of John Joyce and others at Wicklow in December 1642. They appear to have been burned in Wicklow Castle in cold blood. Most of the evidence was hearsay, and does not perhaps amount to much more than that O’Reilly made rather light of what had been done. Luke Byrne, indeed, swore that in a conversation when Joyce was mentioned O’Reilly had advised him to kill all the English about him, and had afterwards excommunicated him for favouring them. The prisoner answered that this Byrne was his enemy, and that he had excommunicated him for living in adultery. Perhaps the strongest point against O’Reilly was made by Peter Wickham, who had been High Sheriff of Wicklow, and who stated that Edward Byrne was put off the jury because he, as foreman, was prepared to say that Joyce and the rest were murdered. Edward Byrne himself corroborated this. On the other hand, a witness bearing the English name of Pemberton swore that O’Reilly had done many acts of kindness and preserved many English lives, including those of five Protestant clergymen. These cases were all a good deal later than Joyce’s murder, and it is not improbable that, while favouring the rebellion at first, he became afterwards disgusted at the outrages that attended it. He was found guilty, but received a pardon. Peter Walsh, who was bitterly opposed to O’Reilly, speaks of him as rather a good-natured and merciful man, but adds that he escaped owing to ‘his former services to the Parliament, especially that of betraying the royal camp at Rathmines to Jones.’ He was certainly engaged in secret negotiations between Jones and Owen Roe O’Neill in 1648, and it may well be that there was no wish to deal hardly with him. Walsh says he was under[Pg 311] protection within the Parliament’s lines, and in that unsafe position was rash enough to appear in Dublin as a witness for the prosecution in a criminal trial. He was recognised and named by a person in court, who called upon the judge to arrest him as priest and vicar-general and chief author of seizing and burning in cessation time the black castle of Wicklow, and consequently too of murdering all those within it. ‘Now whether this accusation was in itself true or false I know not.’[252]

Sir Theodore Bourke, third Viscount Mayo, submitted on July 14, 1652, and was one of the seven who signed on behalf of a large number. Those guilty of robbery or murder during the first year of the war were excluded from any benefit by the articles. Lord Mayo was tried at Galway as accessory to the Shrule massacre by a commission consisting of Sir Charles Coote and ten others. He was undoubtedly present at the murders, and he rode away without fighting for the victims, who were supposed to be under his protection; but there was evidence to show that he did make some effort to save them, and that he fled only to secure his own life. Four of the commissioners were for an acquittal, but he was condemned by a majority and shot.[253]

War is a costly business. First there is the blood-tax, withdrawing thousands of young men from remunerative work. Then there is the expenditure on war materials, and the destruction of property, which may take long to replace. In modern times soldiers are paid punctually, but some part of the waste has to be met by loans, and so the expense of war goes on when its causes are half forgotten. In the case of the Irish rebellion, it was seen at once that the work could not be paid for out of revenue. Except for a moment under Strafford, Ireland had never been self-supporting, and Parliament, upon whom the King at once cast the responsibility, as yet commanded no regular income[Pg 312] and could not pledge the national credit. The city of London was willing enough to give money, but security for repayment was required, and 2500 acres of Irish land were hypothecated for this purpose. It was assumed, judging by the great area affected, and by the experience of former rebellions, that a very much larger amount would be forfeited. Those who subscribed would have something to sell as soon as their money had done its work. In addition to this it proved, just as in Elizabeth’s time, that there was never ready cash enough to pay the soldiers in full, and their arrears also were made a charge upon the Irish forfeitures. There were also many miscellaneous creditors who expected to be paid out of the same fund.[254]

It is unnecessary to set out in detail the negotiations which led to the passing of the Act for the speedy reduction of the rebels in Ireland, but it received the royal assent and was therefore a legal statute forming the basis of what is known as the Cromwellian settlement. Charles II. was bound by it, for the original contract could not be denied. Six hundred and twenty-five thousand acres were pledged in each province, and the money advanced was to be repaid with land distributed by lot at the rate of 1000 acres in Ulster for every 200l., in Connaught for every 300l., in Munster for every 450l., and in Leinster for every 600l. Profitable land only was counted, bogs, loughs, and barren mountains with the woods growing on them, being thrown in without measurement. A quit-rent was reserved to the Crown of one penny per acre in Ulster, three halfpence in Connaught, twopence farthing in Munster, and threepence in Leinster. Patents and pardons before attainder since the fatal October 23, 1641, were declared void, and so were assignments made after March 1 in that year. A special cause of forfeiture was entering after the said March 1 into ‘any compact, bond, covenant, oath, promise, or agreement to[Pg 313] introduce or bring into the said realm of Ireland the authority of the see of Rome in any case whatsoever or to maintain or defend the same.’ The money subscribed was all to be paid in London, and it was specially provided that no part of it was to be devoted to any purpose except the reduction of the Irish rebels until Parliament should declare that the thing was done. But it very soon became evident that there would be war nearer home and long before the time limited for closing the collection. One hundred thousand pounds was borrowed by the House of Commons for their own purposes ‘upon the public faith.’ Charles protested, as he had every right to do, but he set up his standard at Nottingham only nine days later, having already proclaimed Essex a traitor. The Irish difficulty could not be effectively dealt with until it was decided who was to be master in England.[255]

Three Acts to explain or extend the original one were passed soon afterwards. By the first special arrangements were made for admitting Scotch adventurers and Dutch Protestants on or before May 10, 1642; by the second, subscribers who paid all their money before July 20, 1642, were to have Irish acres based upon a perch of twenty-one feet, new contributors and those who were not so prompt, being still confined to English measure, with a perch of sixteen and a half feet, by the third corporations and companies were admitted to contribute as well as individuals. A permanent committee sat in London to watch the interests of the adventurers. Ordinances affecting them were made from time to time, of which one of the most important was that of July 14, 1643, doubling the amount of land to be given in Irish acres for an additional one-fourth to the original subscription, and encouraging merchants and manufacturers to advance money on the security of the towns and neighbourhoods of Limerick, Waterford, Galway, and Wexford. All chantry lands ‘given, unto superstitious uses for maintenance of popish priests[Pg 314] and idolatrous masses’ were thrown in, and also all lands ‘given for maintenance of lazars and lazarous people and concealed in possession and occupation of such who are now or shall be rebels, and have been by their ancestors enjoyed by many descents.’ Some months before this, at the beginning of October 1642, the House of Commons sent a committee to Ireland consisting of Robert Goodwin and Robert Reynolds, adventurers and members of Parliament, and of Captain William Tucker, who was associated with them by the City of London. They disagreed among themselves, and effected nothing for the adventurers, but their pretensions gave the King an opportunity of interfering. Dublin was secured in Ormonde’s hands, and so it remained until Charles was overthrown in England. But civil government was in abeyance long after that, and it was not until August 1652, when the Irish war seemed to be nearly over, that Parliament was able to declare how Irish land should be dealt with.[256]

[Pg 315]

CHAPTER XXXVII

PEACE, SETTLEMENT, AND TRANSPLANTATION, 1652-1654

At the beginning of 1652 the Commissioners in Ireland could see that the war was near its end, but there were still about 30,000 men in arms against them. Their first object was to get these fighting men out of Ireland, in which they succeeded, and after that to begin the scheme of colonisation which had been contemplated from the first. They adhered to the original idea of the Act of March 1642, by which forfeited lands were to be assigned to the Adventurers in each of the four provinces, the counties earmarked for the purpose being Kilkenny, Wexford, Carlow, Westmeath, and Longford in Leinster, Limerick and Kerry in Munster, Cavan, Monaghan, Fermanagh, and Donegal in Ulster, Clare, Galway, Leitrim, and Sligo in Connaught, as the divisions then ran, others being held in reserve in case the above-named should be insufficient. By this means the settlers would be near one another, and afford mutual protection. It was also proposed to make a permanent Pale between the Boyne and the Barrow with a strong garrison in Wicklow, and another between the Suir and the southern Blackwater. The territory within those rivers could be easily and cheaply protected, and would soon be well inhabited, and the soldiers who held it were to be fixed in Roman fashion with reduced pay and farms instead of arrears, ‘provided that such of them as marry with Irish women shall lose their commands, forfeit their arrears, and be made incapable to inhabit lands in Ireland.’ After the receipt of the Commissioners’ despatch, the Committee of Adventurers were called upon to make proposals for a speedy plantation. They accordingly claimed 281,812l. for original advances, and 12,283l. under the[Pg 316] ordinance of 1643, involving grants of 1,038,234 acres. They objected to the suggested arrangements, and demanded contiguous lands in Leinster and Munster, including the city of Waterford. The war was not yet over, and Tories were numerous, so that there would be no safety otherwise, and English labourers were scarce on account of the disafforestations at home. They therefore refused to be bound to time or to pay taxes until the country was really settled, lest they should be ruined while their highly paid servants grew rich, as had happened in New England. Weaver was sent over in April to represent the Irish Government, but the Adventurers stood their ground. Three years from September 29, 1652, had been proposed as the limit of time to be occupied in planting, but it would be impossible within it to provide dwellings for 40,000 men and their families. Less than that number would not do, nor could the work begin until the counties assigned were ‘cleared of Tories or of other Irish which by the propositions may not be admitted to be in the plantation, though Protestants.’ They only waited till the country was made safe, and till they knew more accurately what lands they had to escheat, ‘and that all men’s estates not forfeited should be cleared and known.’ Otherwise they might be involved in hopeless litigation with Lord Cork and many others, who were not at all implicated in the rebellion. On April 17, one month before this answer was given, the general and field officers in Ireland, including Ludlow, Corbet, and Jones, met at Kilkenny, where they heard Dr. Jones’s abstract of the depositions taken concerning murders committed during the rebellion. They were already inclined to think that some of the capitulations had been too lenient, and the reading of this terrible paper confirmed them. To many the facts were new, others, who had been in Ireland since 1641, had never known them in so concrete a form, and they feared that men at a distance might be moved through ignorance to lenity, ‘which we have found no small temptation in ourselves ... and considering that so many murders have been committed that few of the former English were left undestroyed (especially men who had[Pg 317] any particular knowledge of the massacre, and of those the greater part are since deceased) so that few of the rebels can be particularly discriminated by any evidence now to be produced, as the usual course of justice doth require, yet those barbarous, cruel murders having been so generally joined in and since justified by the whole nation, &c.’ And they suggested to Parliament that ‘in duty towards God, the great avenger of such villainies,’ they should not delay to decide upon the ‘qualifications and exceptions’ desirable. The abstract of evidence which had so greatly impressed the officers accompanied their despatch, which was read in Parliament on May 18, and we may well believe that its effect was considerable in moulding legislation. In the interval between May and August the idea of transplantation took shape, and Connaught was left out of the area within which Adventurers and soldiers might seek their reward.[257]

The Act of Settlement upon which all subsequent proceedings were founded declared that it was ‘not the intention of the Parliament to extirpate that whole nation.’ Pardon might be extended to the inferior sort of people on condition of submission and peaceable behaviour. Those of higher rank, ‘according to the respective demerits and considerations under which they fell,’ were divided into ten classes or qualifications, of which the first five were excepted from pardon for life and estate. The first comprised all who before November 10, 1642, when the Kilkenny assembly first met, had anything to say to the rebellion, murders, or massacre. The second clause included all ecclesiastical persons in Roman orders who had been so concerned, the penalty in their cases[Pg 318] extending to ‘violences’ less than murder or open insurrection. The third consisted of one hundred and four persons excepted by name, including Ormonde, Castlehaven, Clanricarde, Inchiquin, Muskerry, and seventeen other temporal peers. Bishop Bramhall came next, and among the rest were Sir Phelim O’Neill, General Preston, and Roger O’More. The fourth qualification covered those who at any time after October 1, 1641, had a hand in killing any one except soldiers, and all Irishmen who, not being soldiers themselves, had killed Englishmen who were. The fifth clause condemned all who did not lay down their arms within twenty-eight days of the Act being published by authority in Ireland. The sixth clause provided for the banishment of all superior military officers and for the forfeiture of two-thirds of their estates, the value of the remaining third to be enjoyed by their wives and children ‘in such places in Ireland as the Parliament, in order to the more effectual settlement of the peace of this nation, shall think fit to appoint for that purpose.’ The seventh clause empowered the Commissioners to pardon others who had fought and submitted, and they also were deprived of two-thirds of their property, but might continue in Ireland upon the equivalent of one-third wherever the Parliament might assign it. The eighth applied to Papists who had lived in Ireland since October 23, 1641, ‘and had not manifested their constant good affection to the interest of the Commonwealth of England’; they were to forfeit one-third, and other persons who might have helped the Parliament and failed to do so were deprived of only one-fifth. The ninth clause granted pardon for life and estate to those who had no land and not more than ten pounds personalty, provided they laid down their arms within the prescribed time. The tenth clause swept into the net all estates tail and trusts created after March 25, 1639, but English Protestants who purchased for value before the beginning of the rebellion were protected. There was a final proviso granting to all the benefit of any articles granted provided they had observed them on their part, but the Commissioners had, nevertheless, power to ‘transplant’ them to any such place in Ireland as should be[Pg 319] ‘judged most consistent with public safety,’ where they were to have land equivalent to what they would have enjoyed had they not been so removed.[258]

At the end of January 1652, a little more than two months after Ireton’s death, Lambert was named by Parliament as Deputy to Cromwell, who was still Lord Lieutenant; and he made preparations for filling the place brilliantly. Mrs. Hutchinson says he laid out five thousand pounds on his outfit, and gave himself airs of superiority, ‘looking upon all the Parliament men who had conferred this honour on him as underlings, and scarcely worth the great man’s nod.’ Weaver’s influence was cast against him, and before Cromwell’s commission had actually expired the House resolved to abolish the Lord Lieutenancy and to appoint no Deputy. Lambert was told he might command the army as Ludlow had been doing, sharing the civil power with the other commissioners; but he refused this offer, and Cromwell, who became Captain-General, appointed Fleetwood. Ludlow says this was a deep-laid plot on the part of Cromwell, who was jealous of his steadfast republicanism, and that he was thus able to secure a useful servant in his son-in-law, and at the same time to set such a dangerous rival as Lambert against the Parliament. On the other hand there is evidence that Cromwell thought him badly treated, and he requested that 2000l. of arrears due to himself as Lord Lieutenant might be paid to Lambert. Ludlow, Corbet, and Jones remained in Ireland as Fleetwood’s colleagues, but Weaver, though reappointed, became obnoxious to the military party, and never returned thither. Fresh instructions were issued as soon as the Act of Settlement had passed, and Fleetwood landed at Waterford in September 1652. The Commissioners were ordered to publish and circulate the Act, and to put it in force in Ireland, as well as all ordinances affecting the estates of delinquents and Papists and of the bishops and chapters. They were to raise a revenue not exceeding 40,000l. a month upon lands and[Pg 320] goods in Ireland, and to watch the financial interests of the State in every way, and they were given power ‘to send into England or such other places as you shall think fit, any persons whose residence in those parts from which they are so to be removed, you shall judge dangerous to this Commonwealth.’[259]

The Act of Settlement only laid foundations, and further legislation was required before the work of colonisation could be actually undertaken. At the end of 1652, although the war was not quite over, the Commissioners urged upon Parliament the necessity of expedition. ‘The two great businesses,’ they wrote a few weeks later, ‘which now lie before us are how to lessen your charge and how to plant the country, but neither of these can be done to any effect till we do hear your pleasure about the Bill before you for giving satisfaction to the Adventurers and also to satisfy the arrears of the soldiers.’ The dilatoriness of the sovereign assembly was at least one of the reasons why Cromwell turned it out of doors. The Lord General and his new Council in their declaration make no reference to Ireland except that it had pleased God to reduce the country. It was published a week later in Dublin, the Commissioners reminding all in positions of trust that ‘notwithstanding the present alteration’ they were bound to use great diligence, and that they would be held to strict account. May 4 and 11 were fixed for ‘solemn seeking the Grace of the Lord by all his people in Ireland.’[260]

Oliver Cromwell was virtually dictator during the few weeks that intervened between his dismissal of the much purged House of Commons and the meeting of that curious assembly sometimes called the Little and sometimes the Nominated Parliament, but which will always be remembered[Pg 321] in connection with Praise-God Barebone. It was intended to legislate for the British Islands, and representatives of Scotland and Ireland were accordingly added. The 140 members were named by the new Council of State without any pretence of election, and summoned by Oliver as Lord General. The English members were assigned to various parts of the kingdom, but the Scotch and Irish, to their respective countries at large. Five of the Irish members were Colonels, Sir Robert King, who was born in Ireland, Hewson the regicide, who became a Councillor of State, John Clarke, Daniel Hutchinson, and Henry Cromwell. The only civilian associated with them was Vincent Gookin, whose father had fallen foul of Strafford’s Parliament. The Speaker chosen by the assembly was Francis Rous, author of a metrical version of the Psalms which still retains some reputation in Scotland. The House, which had been partly composed according to Harrison’s idea of a Sanhedrin, took care to appoint no officer or servant, ‘but such as they were first well satisfied of their real godliness.’ The new Council of State was reappointed with some alterations, and included Cromwell and Fleetwood. After these preliminaries were settled the House spent a summer’s day until four o’clock ‘in seeking the Lord in a special manner for counsel and a blessing on the proceedings,’ some twelve members speaking and praying. ‘The Lord General was present, and it was a comfortable day.’ His long speech at the opening contains no special reference to Irish policy.[261]

Cromwell handed over the supreme authority to the new assembly, which by a majority voted itself a Parliament, but he and his Council of State had already begun to take action on the Act of Settlement. Methusaleh Turner, linen-draper of London, and eight other persons were appointed to meet at Grocers’ Hall, on June 20, at eight o’clock in the morning, and there hold a lottery to decide upon the Adventurers’ claims. No one lot was to exceed 10,000l., Connaught was excluded, and the total to be provided for in the other[Pg 322] three provinces was 360,000l. One penny in the pound was to be deducted for expenses. Two days after the lottery began a commission was given to Fleetwood, Ludlow, Corbet, and Jones, declaring the war ended and empowering them to administer the Acts and ordinances concerning the Adventurers, and to make a survey for the purpose of all forfeited lands in Ireland. They were instructed first to take in hand ten counties, namely Limerick, Tipperary, and Waterford in Munster, King’s and Queen’s Counties, Meath, and Westmeath in Leinster, Down, Antrim and Armagh in Ulster, ‘and to divide all the forfeited lands, meadow, arable, and profitable pasture with the woods and bogs and barren mountains thereunto respectively belonging into two equal moieties’ of which one was intended for the Adventurers and the other for the soldiers’ arrears. Louth was then to be surveyed separately. The counties of Dublin, Cork, Kildare, and Carlow were specially reserved, and the Commissioners were authorised to assign any five counties not hitherto named to pay arrears accrued since June 5, 1649, of soldiers to be disbanded. All grants made by ‘any Act, ordinance, or order of Parliament’ since November 1, 1641, were excluded from survey, and the manor of Blarney was specially excepted. Blarney, which was part of Muskerry’s great estate, fell to Broghill’s share, and we may infer that his advice was much followed in all matters connected with the settlement.[262]

When the commission and instructions reached Dublin, the Commissioners there had begun to negotiate with the officers as to who should be disbanded and how their arrears should be satisfied ‘until the supreme authority of the Commonwealth were convened.’ The army were not pleased when they heard that their satisfaction was to be limited to five counties and to those who had served since June 1649. Those who had been longest in the Parliamentary service seemed to have greater claims, and they had certainly[Pg 323] greater arrears due. It became necessary to issue further instructions as to the transplantation contemplated by the Act of Settlement. The Commissioners in Ireland were to announce publicly that parts of Ireland would be planted with English and Protestants for their security, and ‘to the end that all persons who have right to articles or to any favour and mercy held forth by any of the qualifications in the said Act, may enjoy the benefit intended unto them, and every of them respectively.’ These words at once excluded all who were excepted from pardon for life and estate by the first five clauses: their lives might for the most part not be in much danger, but their property was gone. All who had claims were ordered to transplant into Connaught and Clare before May 1, 1654, there to receive such portions of land as their qualifications entitled them to. All who were found east of the Shannon after that day without licence from the Government were to be ‘reputed spies and enemies, and for the same offence suffer death,’ but a little later it was ordered that the capital penalty should not be inflicted without special order from the Lord Deputy and Council. All who removed in time were to be pardoned for every offence except murder; but they were not to possess arms nor to reside in any town without licence, on penalty of death by martial law. Ecclesiastical persons in Roman orders were not to be ‘pardoned, tolerated, or admitted.’ The obligation to transplant was not extended to Protestants who did not adhere to or join the rebels before September 15, 1643, nor to any woman married to an English Protestant before December 2, 1650, on condition of renouncing Popery and professing Protestantism. Boys under fourteen and girls under twelve were allowed to remain among the English as servants, their masters undertaking to train them ‘in the true Protestant religion.’ Protestants, whether English or Irish, who had land in Connaught or Clare, and had ‘constantly adhered to the English against the rebels,’ might on application receive an equivalent in one of the English counties. All transplantable persons were to be gone before May 1, 1654, and within two months of receiving their allotments, which[Pg 324] were only provisional pending a regular survey. On September 12, 1653, these instructions were transmitted by the Commissioners to their officers in every part of Ireland, with directions to make them public.[263]

From the Commissioners’ letter of April 22, 1653, quoted above, it is evident that the Bill for satisfaction of Adventurers and soldiers was before the Long Parliament for some time. The changes consequent upon its expulsion caused further delay, and it was not till just before Michaelmas that the action of the Lord General and Council was legalised, so far as any legal force could attach to the new Parliament’s sanction. The Act confirmed what had been done, and further empowered the Commissioners to shorten proceedings by transplanting the Irish at once, ‘although their claims be not first determined or their qualifications distinguished,’ and to give them lands in occupation ‘proportionable to the estate by them claimed or competent to such stock as each of the said persons shall have.’ Adventurers and soldiers receiving lands were relieved for five years from the payment of quit-rents imposed by the Act of 1642, and taxation for the same period was not to exceed one-fourth of the annual value. When the Commissioners in Ireland received the Act with its final directions they published a declaration for enforcing it. All who took part in or abetted ‘the rebellions, murders, or massacres’ during the first year, all who at any time were in actual arms as rebels, and all who had any land entitling them to compensation by the Act of Settlement, were to remove across the Shannon by May 1, 1654. Protestants who had not joined the rebels before the first cessation on September 15, 1643, were excepted, and so was any woman who married an English Protestant before December 2, 1650, on condition of openly renouncing Popery. All persons not excepted, or without special licence, found east of the Shannon after the appointed day were to be treated as[Pg 325] hostile spies, ‘tried by martial law, and suffer death.’ All transplantable persons were to report themselves to the commissioners of revenue in the precinct where they lived, giving the names of their families, particulars as to tenants and others who would accompany them voluntarily, with their ages, colour and height, and an account of the cattle and tillage ‘for which they pay contribution in the places from whence they remove.’ After satisfying themselves that the information was true, the Commissioners were to issue certificates, and regulations were made as to how these documents might be converted into land in Connaught or Clare.[264]

Whatever may be the exact meaning of this declaration, or however it may be reconciled with the Acts of Settlement and of Satisfaction, it soon became quite clear that the transplantation could not be effected by May 1, 1654. As a matter of fact the procedure was applied only to landowners and their families, and to such tenants as might choose to go with them. A few did go early in the day, but the vast majority clung to their homes. Licences to remain were freely granted to the aged and infirm and to those who could show that they had befriended the English. Even in cases where the service was too slight to deserve permanent exemption, Colonel Lawrence assures us that indulgence was shown for considerable periods, ‘that a cup of cold water might not go unrequited.’ The time was extended generally, first to December, so that seed time and harvest might be included, and afterwards to March 1655, the doomed proprietors remaining on their old property as tenants at will to the State. When March arrived most of the work was still to be done, for the officers and soldiers ‘and other faithful Protestants’ of Leinster, petitioned the Irish Government to execute the ‘further instructions’ of July 2, 1653, and to transplant ‘all the Irish into Connaught excepting males of fourteen years of age and females of twelve.’ The first[Pg 326] reason was lest the settlers should become idolaters from intermarriage with the natives, many who came over in Queen Elizabeth’s time having thus fallen away and been concerned in the late murders and massacres. Among many Old Testament texts the petitioners gave precedence to the verses of Ezra, where the Israelites were forbidden to take Gentile wives, ‘that they might be strong and eat the good of the land and leave it for an inheritance to their children for ever.’ If this principle was neglected even the Parliamentary soldiers might join with the natives to attack the colonists, having first learned the vices that reigned in the land, such as swearing, drunkenness, dissembling, and deceiving. The second argument was ‘grounded on the law of nature, which teacheth self-preservation.’ Experience showed that the priests would go to any lengths to advance their Church, and that the people would follow them, and Edmund Campion the Jesuit is quoted as to the perfidiousness of the Irish. The great thing was to get rid of the Tories out of three provinces, and thus encourage honest men to come from England and strengthen those who were already committed to Ireland. As things actually stood the English were confined to garrisons and forced to fold their cattle, while the Irish occupied the best land, keeping their flocks and herds in the fields by day and night. When it was a question of paying taxes they hid their stock in the woods, ‘which the English cannot do, who by that means will be liable to bear a greater proportion of contribution than the Irish.’[265]

Cromwell became Protector in December 1653, and Fleetwood was one of the Council of State. Ludlow takes credit to himself for delaying the assent of Ireland, but Oliver was nevertheless proclaimed on January 30, the Secretary’s name only appearing. The other Commissioners effaced their signatures when Ludlow refused to add his, and they seem to have disliked the change. Ludlow rested his case upon[Pg 327] the engagement of January 1650, which he and his colleagues had taken to support ‘the Commonwealth of England as it is now established without a King or House of Lords.’ Afterwards he refused to have any share in the civil government, while retaining his military command; and this was attributed by Henry Cromwell and others to his love for pay and allowances. There is nevertheless a real distinction between acting as a minister and serving one’s country as a soldier, even under a usurped government. The Anabaptist party, who were hostile to the Protectorate, showed signs of adopting the discontented general as their leader. Cromwell sent over his son Henry to report, and he remained about a month in Ireland, being received with as much honour as if he were indeed a prince. He found Jones as well as Ludlow discontented, but made rather light of their opposition, which indeed came to nothing, William Kiffin and others advising their Baptist friends to accept the new government. Henry nevertheless suggested that Fleetwood was not a satisfactory representative, and advised his father to replace him by Desborough, at least for a time. We have no means of knowing what passed between father and son after the latter’s return, but the result was to soften the effect of the transplantation policy. Vincent Gookin was in England, and if he was consulted, as is at least probable, his influence would have worked in that direction. Fleetwood became Lord Deputy in August 1654, when the term of the Commissioners came to an end. Ludlow and Jones were not reappointed to the Irish Council, and the latter went to England, but Corbet was retained, and others were sent over. Among the latter were Colonel Robert Hammond of Isle of Wight celebrity; Richard Pepys and William Steele, eminent lawyers; Robert Goodwin, who had been over twelve years before; and Colonel Matthew Tomlinson, who had been appointed one of Charles I.’s judges, but had declined to act.[266]

[Pg 328]

A perfectly regular statute provided that the Long Parliament should not be dissolved without its own consent, and the usurping House of Commons, which had killed the King and abolished the monarchy and House of Lords, was thus able to make some pretence of legality. In the Parliament elected under the Instrument of Government thirty members were assigned to Ireland, and Cromwell left it to those on the spot to decide whether elections were possible in the state of the country. Fleetwood, Jones, and Corbet replied that several counties were waste and others very unsettled, and that they did not see how the business was to be done. The writs were, however, sent over, and Ludlow persuaded them that even the shadow of representation would be better than nothing. He says the influence of the clergy secured a few results not pleasing to the Government; but all the chief officers were chosen, Broghill being returned for the county of Cork, and Gookin, whose interests also lay there, for Bandon and Kinsale. Henry Cromwell was chosen for Cambridge University, and Fleetwood both for Oxfordshire and for Marlborough. The new Parliament met on Cromwell’s lucky September 3, but before that day he had given Fleetwood and his Council power to ‘dispense with the orders and instructions made and given by the late Parliament or Council of State for the transplantation of the Irish,’ and also with the penalties upon those who neglected or refused to go. A clause to the same effect had been rejected when the Act of Satisfaction was passed twelve months before.[267]

The dispensing power remained with the Irish Government, who exercised it; but Fleetwood was not inclined to make indulgence a matter of course, and the military party were always pressing him in the direction of severity. On November 30, 1654, a declaration was issued repeating the order in the Act of Settlement for the transplantation of landed proprietors, of those in arms against the Commonwealth since October 21, 1641, and of those who aided the rebellion during[Pg 329] the first year of the war. They were ordered to be gone with their wives and families by March 1 following, or to incur the penalties already declared. How far Oliver was influenced by Vincent Gookin must be a matter of conjecture, but he certainly liked him, and the latter would scarcely have appeared in print against the Protector’s known wishes. At the very beginning of 1655 Gookin published a pamphlet against general transplantation, and sent a copy to every member of Parliament. He was impressed with the idea that the Irish generally might be converted to Protestantism, and that this was much more likely if they were left intermixed with the English. The country had been conquered, and there were garrisons everywhere, but no ministers, ‘as if our business in Ireland was only to set up our own interest and not Christ’s.’ Another difficulty lay in the divisions among Protestants, who were so bitter against each other that ‘the Papist sees not where to fix if he should come to us.’ If the Irish remained among the English they would ‘enjoy the labours of godly able ministers, the encouragement of Protestant professors, and the catechisings of private Christians,’ all which influences would be wanting if they were crowded together beyond the Shannon. It is hardly worth while to inquire what might have happened if there had been no Restoration, but Gookin declares that the priests had ‘universally departed’ as well as the most dangerous of the soldiers, and it is possible for people with a great deal of imagination to argue that Ireland might have become Protestant if they had all been kept out for ever. What really prevented the transplantation from being fully carried out was the impossibility of cultivating the land without the help of the natives, who might be spared under the first clause of the Act of Settlement. The Irish, says Gookin, lived on the roots and fruits of their ‘gardens,’ that is mainly on potatoes, and sold their corn to the English to pay the taxes. The country, moreover, was not generally suited to corn, on account of the uncertain climate and the amount of labour required, and if the Irish all left no contribution could be made out of lands east of the Shannon. The women, too,[Pg 330] were for the most part able to spin and weave flax and wool, and there were plenty of masons ‘more handy and ready in building ordinary houses and much more prudent in supplying the defects of instruments and materials than English artificers.’ Gookin reckoned that a capital of 1500l. or 2000l. would be required for each thousand Irish acres, and that it would be impossible to bring over English labour in sufficient quantity. The Irish might refuse to go into Connaught—indeed, many had already done so, saying that their position was hopeless and that they might as well face ruin where they were as travel to look for it. And he adds, ‘there is one thing more which wise men will consider, and that is, the impossibility of this transplanting ... can it be imagined that a whole nation will drive like geese at the wagging of a hat upon a stick?’[268]

Whatever may be the etymology of the name Tory, it was officially applied in 1647 to masterless men living a life of brigandage and preying upon all who had anything to lose. No doubt it was in popular use before that date. Gookin says the English dreaded the Tories ‘more than armies, and woods and bogs than camps,’ and he believed that transplantation would make matters worse. The Irish proprietors would be unable to support their followers beyond Shannon, the river would be no barrier, and they would become Tories against their will. They had already been forced into such courses by the intolerable taxation necessary to support the Parliament’s army, and by the violence and oppression of some soldiers which often went unpunished. Most of the really active rebels were dead or exiled, and it was unwise as well as unjust to assume universal guilt. The Irish nation, indeed, ‘were generally engaged in the rebellion, either through ignorance of the design and apprehending they acted by the King’s commission and for his and God’s service; or through[Pg 331] infirmity, partly fearing their priests’ threats, partly their landlords’ frowns, partly the violence of others, of the English who at the beginning reckoned an Irishman and a rebel tantamount, and on that score forced many into war (who desired peace) with the Irish in arms, who accounted and declared all enemies that joined not (at least seemingly) with them, and proceeded with more severity against dissenting natives than English.’

A month after its publication, Gookin’s pamphlet was denounced by Fleetwood as a ‘very strange scandalous book,’ and Colonel Lawrence, ‘at the request of several persons in eminent place in Ireland,’ undertook to refute it. He was able to show that former settlements had succeeded only where the colonists were placed near one another, ‘as for instance the barony of Ards, in the county of Down and province of Ulster, which being entirely planted by British people did preserve themselves by keeping guards upon their frontiers when all the country besides was totally ruined.’ He gives many horrible details of the rebellion, ‘wherein neither age nor sex were spared.... English cattle and houses were destroyed for their being of an English kind, and all this without the least provocation, yet this bloody inhuman act with all its aggravations were espoused by this people as a national quarrel and a war waged thereupon’; but admits that some of the Irish gentry ‘(whose kindness I hope either hath been or will be rewarded both by God and man)’ did really help the English, so that a few escaped like Job’s messengers to bring the bad news. Lawrence points out that in all official declarations only landed proprietors and men in arms were marked for transplantation, and that nothing further was intended, but he maintains that it was quite possible to extend it greatly without danger. Gookin’s rejoinder is dedicated to Fleetwood, whom he praises for his kindness to all, whereby the necessary hardships were much diminished. He shows how very few exceptions there would be among the Irish if the declaration of October 14, 1653, were strictly acted upon, acknowledges the authorship of the first pamphlet, and maintains his position.[Pg 332] ‘Let no poor sufferer by the Irish betray his reason or religion to his passion here, to think no evils can be too great to be brought on the Irish. It was their being cruel makes us hate them so much: to punish them do not run into their sin, lest God punish thee. Do not think that he that writes this and the Case of Transplantation pleads for them, but thy cause; ‘tis safe and profitable for thee that some be removed, not all. This Colonel Lawrence says shall be done and this I desired might be done: where is my offence against authority more than his, my love to the Irish more than his, or my care of thee less than his?’ After all there is not much difference between the two writers. That the English did not think Gookin’s ideas hostile to the settlement may be inferred from their electing him to Parliament, and proposing to pay his expenses there, an offer which he refused.[269]

There can be little doubt that the sufferings of the Waldenses reacted upon Ireland, the rather that many Irish refugees were concerned in the massacres. At the end of 1653 it was reported that Irish troops had passed the mountains from Spain and appeared at Nîmes, where there was a strong body of Protestants. The priests secured them a good reception, though they boasted that they would ‘tear in pieces and crucify quick’ any Protestants they found there. Some of them were induced to settle and take wives ‘so that they may in a manner in this town augment and renew the race of that execrable and murdering nation.’ Two months later another detachment were refused admission to Nîmes because some of them boasted that they had massacred the English in Ireland, and they went on to Piedmont. Later on it was said that the Waldensian valleys were to be given[Pg 333] up to the Irish. It is not therefore surprising that the officers in Ireland, with Fleetwood at their head, should have expressed their horror at the proceedings in Piedmont, and cautioned the Protector against too great leniency in Ireland. ‘Let the blood of Ireland be fresh in your view, and their treachery cry aloud in your ears, that the frequent solicitations with which you are encompassed may not slack your hand to an unsafe pity of those whose principles in all ages carry them forth to such brutish and inhuman practices, which consist not with human society; and let not such be left untransplanted here, or unminded in England, whose continuance among us do palpably hazard the very being of Protestant interest in these nations.’ And Cromwell himself told the Dutch Ambassador that the example of Ireland was fresh in his memory, where above 200,000 had been massacred. So strong was the feeling in Ireland that the officers contributed a fortnight’s pay and the soldiers a week’s pay for the relief of the persecuted mountaineers. A large sum was also subscribed privately.[270]

The process of transplantation went on slowly, and was never carried to its extreme lengths, for very few would have escaped if the Act of Settlement had been carried out to the letter. But vast numbers did remove during the year 1654, and it would probably be difficult to exaggerate the hardships they underwent. In some cases at least whole districts were depopulated, for it was officially reported that ‘no inhabitant of the Irish nation that knows the country’ was left in the barony of Eliogarty in Tipperary, which contains the town of Thurles, and orders were given for the return of four families, who might live near their old homes and assist the surveyors. Those who crossed the Shannon were provided with land in a temporary way, and two commissions were appointed to consider claims with a view to more[Pg 334] permanent arrangements. In October 1653 the transplanted were ordered to go to Galway and inform the commissioners of revenue there as to their families and the nature of their claims. Afterwards these commissioners sat at Loughrea, and it became their duty to distribute land in accordance with the findings of another commission at Athlone. The latter were appointed on December 28, 1654, as the ‘Court of Claims and Qualifications of the Irish,’ and were generally known as the Athlone commissioners. Their business was to find under which qualification or degree of guilt each Irish claimant fell, and to give him lands proportionate to those which he had enjoyed east of the Shannon. The Loughrea commissioners used the maps and registers made for Strafford’s intended plantation in Connaught and in the northern half of Tipperary. For the rest of Ireland it was necessary to make a new survey. Meanwhile transplantation proceeded very slowly, and in March 1656 there were 1000 men under restraint who had borne arms during the rebellion, but refused to cross the Shannon.[271]

Benjamin Worsley, who had been a surgeon or apothecary in Strafford’s army, came over again in 1652, and was appointed Surveyor-General. He had been an unsuccessful projector and according to Petty had tried his hand at universal medicine, gold-making, saltpetre sowing, and other ‘mountain-bellied conceptions which ended only in abortive mice,’ he and his friend Sankey being stigmatised as a ‘multiloquial pair of monti-parturists.’ He began to make a survey, at which he expected to be employed for many years, but Petty soon began to criticise his proceedings and to suggest that he could do the work a great deal better in as many months. Despatch was of the essence of the business, for both adventurers and soldiers were clamouring for possession of the promised lands. Petty had come over at the same time as Worsley, and the Irish Government very soon found that he was a man of extraordinary ability and very likely to carry anything he undertook to a successful issue. Ireton made him Physician-General to the army, and he claimed to[Pg 335] have so reformed the drug department as to get rid of all abuses and at the same time save the State 500l. a year. Worsley’s plan was to survey the forfeited lands without any regard to the established divisions into baronies, parishes, and town lands, or to the physical features of the country. He was to be paid only for the profitable lands, and thus there was a constant tendency to include worthless tracts. Moreover the subdivision would still have to be done either at a great charge to the State or at the expense of the grantees. In the latter case no authentic record would remain, and there would be no unity of action. Nobody was satisfied at the prospect, and Petty declared that Worsley’s great object ‘was so to frame committees of conceited, sciolous persons, intermixing some of credit and bulk amongst them, as whereby he might screen himself in case of miscarriage.’ He made proposals of his own, and the rival schemes were submitted to the judgment of a committee consisting of Sir Hardress Waller, Colonels Lawrence and Hewson, and nine others, including Petty and Worsley.[272]

Petty’s plan was approved, though Worsley worked hard against him, and had at first the help of Sir Charles Coote and some other officers. Afterwards Coote and Reynolds were added to the committee, and the final result was a complete victory for Petty. Worsley remained Surveyor-General, and it was with him that his rival contracted to do the work. Petty engaged to make in thirteen months a general map of twenty-two counties, ascertaining and defining the bounds of baronies so that there should be no future doubt. He undertook within the same counties accurately to set out all forfeited lands as well as all Crown lands and the property of bishops, deans, and chapters, ‘or any other officer belonging to that hierarchy,’ showing their quality and physical character, and all civil subdivisions. He was to receive 7l. 2s. 4d. for every thousand acres of forfeited[Pg 336] profitable land that shall be admeasured and actually sent out to ‘the soldiery by him,’ and 3l. for every thousand acres of unprofitable land. One of the conditions made by Petty was that those whom he employed in the survey should be protected from Tories, and this was no superfluous precaution. Eight surveyors were actually captured near Timolin in Kildare, carried off to the Wicklow mountains, and there murdered. In spite of such drawbacks the survey was completed, or very nearly so, within the specified time, and the distribution of land to the disbanded soldiers went on in the meantime. Henry Cromwell visited Kilkenny, Waterford, and Wexford in September and October 1655, and reported that good progress had been made in the work.[273]

Petty claimed to have made lineal measurements to the extent of more than five times the earth’s circumference. The forfeited lands were indicated to him by what was called the Civil Survey, which was merely a register of forfeited lands made independently by commissioners and for the most part before the old proprietors had actually departed. This made the measuring business dangerous as well as troublesome, and Petty employed soldiers ‘such as were able to endure travail, ill lodging and diet, as also heats and colds, being also men of activity that could leap hedge and ditch, and could also ruffle with the several rude persons in the country, from whom they might expect often to be crossed and opposed.’ He had no difficulty in finding men who, ‘having been bred to trades, could write and read sufficiently for the purpose.’ The more delicate instruments were obtained from the best London makers, and skilled artificers were found to make the rest. The soldiers had received debentures for their arrears, and the idea was to set them down by regiments and companies alongside of the Adventurers. But it soon became evident that the amount of forfeited land[Pg 337] was insufficient to meet the liabilities of the State. Land had to be distributed on account, and debentures, including many fabricated ones, were bought and sold. Very few old soldiers cared to settle down upon small farms, and there were always speculative officers found to buy up the claims of their men and so carve out estates for themselves, Irish tenants and labourers being accepted because the hoped for English immigration did not take place. The Act of Satisfaction forbade officers to buy the privates’ debentures, but a class of brokers sprang up and the traffic continued till the Restoration. Great numbers were sold before any distribution of land had been attempted. Petty himself tells us that debentures were freely and openly sold at four or five shillings in the pound, and that a pound so laid out purchased on an average two acres of land. Later on there was a regulation against selling at less than eight shillings in the pound, but of course this was easily evaded. As a transfer of property from Irish to English hands the Cromwellian settlement had some measure of success, but as a scheme of colonisation it totally failed.[274]

It was at first supposed that the ten counties originally named in the Act of Satisfaction would provide for both soldiers and adventurers, but this soon had to be altered, and in the end distribution was made to the soldiers in twenty-four counties out of thirty-two. Galway, Mayo, Roscommon, and Clare were given to the transplanted Irish, and Louth was set aside for the Adventurers. Dublin, Kildare, Carlow,[Pg 338] and Cork were retained by the Government, but about half the latter was afterwards given up to disbanded soldiers. Nevertheless all arrears were not paid in full, and some never received more than about twelve shillings in the pound. Petty’s detailed survey did not extend to the Adventurers’ portions, and their committee at Grocers’ Hall made separate arrangements which led to a good deal of confusion. Petty was called in to disentangle the knot, and he and Worsley were commissioned in September 1656 to measure the forfeited lands hitherto omitted. The Adventurers, though numerous, were far fewer than the soldiers, and they gave less trouble. Most of them probably had no idea of settling in Ireland, and only wanted something to sell or let on lease. Some debentures were given out to soldiers or their representatives as late as the summer of 1658, and perhaps later. Many no doubt were thoroughly dissatisfied with what they got, but working arrangements had been made and Clarendon’s testimony is conclusive as to the general feeling of security among the English inhabitants. ‘Ireland,’ he says, ‘was the great capital out of which all debts were paid, all services rewarded, and all acts of bounty performed.’ Buildings, enclosures, and plantations were everywhere made, private purchases concluded ‘at very valuable rates, and jointures made upon marriages, and all other conveyances and settlements executed, as in a kingdom at peace within itself, and where no doubt could be made of the validity of titles. And yet in all this quiet there were very few persons pleased or contented.’[275]

It was originally meant to give all the forfeited lands in Connaught and Clare to the transplanted, reserving the towns and garrisons with some space about them and a strip four miles wide all along the coast. In the end Sligo and Leitrim were withdrawn, and the coast reserve was narrowed to one mile. The amount of land was insufficient, and there must have been great hardship, for the Government had no machinery for giving quiet possession if there was any opposi[Pg 339]tion from neighbouring proprietors or rival claimants. It was a tradition of Irish government to apprehend a Spanish invasion, and it was for that reason that a belt of English settlers round the coast was contemplated, but nothing seems to have come of it. Innisbofin was, however, strengthened and garrisoned, and the Papist inhabitants ordered to leave the town of Galway, where it was proposed to plant a colony from Gloucester as a reward for its resistance to Charles I., and from Liverpool to compensate it for losses during the war. But the inhabitants of those towns were not tempted any more than those of Bristol had been in the case of Waterford. ‘Poor Galway,’ wrote a clergyman in 1657, ‘sitteth in the dust and no eye pitieth her. Her merchants were princes and great among the nations, but now the city which was full of people is solitary and very desolate.’ There was talk, but only talk, of introducing a colony of Protestant Dutch. The old citizens were to receive full value for their property and the settlers to give ten years’ purchase. As the latter did not come, probably the compensation was not paid, and so the people lingered on or returned after a brief absence. In November 1655 Henry Cromwell reported that all the Irish had been cleared out of Galway, yet as late as August 1659, after he had left Ireland, a fresh order was made to expel ‘all the Irish Papists.’ The old trade with Spain, which had been interrupted by the long war, did not return, and Galway never recovered its old prosperity. In 1650 a householder had welcomed Lady Fanshawe ‘to this desolate city, where you now see the street grown over with grass, once the finest little city in the world’; and so it remained for years.[276]

By the ordinance of July 14, 1643, with a view to encourage merchants, Galway, with 10,000 acres of land round it, had[Pg 340] been offered for a price of 7500l. and a rent of 520l., but the town did not come into the power of Parliament for many years, and nothing was done. Similar offers with the same result were made in the cases of Limerick, Waterford, and Wexford. As the towns were gradually won, frequent orders were given for the expulsion of the old inhabitants who adhered to Rome, and who came within the scope of the Act of Settlement. But here, as in the country, it was found impossible really to carry out the clearance effectually. Artificers and workmen could not be done without, since none came from England, and many of them remained, though no doubt the houses of a better class were left empty. When Inchiquin expelled the Roman Catholics from Cork in 1644, three thousand houses were without tenants, and as many in Youghal. The soldiers who were short of fuel warmed themselves with everything that would burn, and Ormonde about the same time had to forbid the practice in Dublin on pain of death. In March 1657 it is clear that the work of depopulation had not been done, for an order was then made ‘that all Popish Recusants, as well proprietors as others, whose habitation is in any port-towns, walled towns, or garrisons,’ who had not professed Protestantism before the cessation of 1643 and ever since, should remove with their families at least two miles from any such place. In 1650 some ministers and others in New England proposed to colonise, being tempted by the offer of houses and land at Wexford at one-tenth of their value before the war. Thousands were ready to come if encouraged, being ‘exiles through the tyranny of episcopacy for no other offence but professing that truth, which (through mercy), is now acknowledged.’ This apparently came to nothing. Those English who were attracted to Irish towns by the prospect of getting houses rent-free, were often without capital, and in no condition to establish a flourishing commerce. But all the Protestant settlers were not of this class, for Charles II.’s declaration in 1660 set forth that they had made improvements at their own charge, ‘and brought trade and manufacture into that our kingdom, and by their settlement[Pg 341] there do not a little contribute to the peace and settlement of that country.’ In any case much of the work was probably done by the old inhabitants, for if they had not remained in considerable numbers, priests and friars would not daily have risked their lives in Irish towns.[277]

Besides the great transplantation of Roman Catholics to Connaught, Fleetwood and the sectaries contemplated the removal of Presbyterian Royalists from Down and Antrim, whose proximity to the Scotch Highlands was thought dangerous. Five commissioners, of whom Doctor Henry Jones and Colonel Venables were two, were sent to Carrickfergus to tender the Engagement of 1650, which bound men to support a government without King or House of Lords. There were then but seven Presbyterian ministers in the district, one of them being Patrick Adair, whose narrative we possess. The commissioners sent parties of soldiers, one of which seized all Adair’s papers indiscriminately, ‘there being none among sixteen soldiers and a sergeant who could read.’ The most important papers were restored to Adair by a maidservant, who stole them when the sergeant was asleep. None of the seven clergymen would take the Engagement, and they had much support among the people. The expulsion of the Long Parliament delayed, but did not stop, the proceedings, and the Commissioners issued a proclamation against 260 persons, including Lord Clandeboye and Lord Montgomery of Ards, whom they proposed to transplant to Kilkenny, Tipperary, and the sea coast of Waterford. They were to receive the full value of the estates which they lost, with a liberal price for way-going crops, and their ministers might accompany them and receive salaries, provided they were peaceable-minded and not scandalous. Sir Robert Adair and other leading Presbyterians were sent to Tipperary, but[Pg 342] the whole scheme came to nothing, ‘for Oliver, coming to the supreme order of affairs, used other methods and took other measures than the rabble Rump Parliament. He did not force any engagement or promise upon people contrary to their conscience; knowing that forced obligations of that kind will bind no man.’ Orders for this transplantation were given, but nothing was actually done.[278]

[Pg 343]

CHAPTER XXXVIII

HENRY CROMWELL, 1655-1659

Though the Protector had not adopted his son’s advice by at once recalling Fleetwood, it soon became evident that he wished for a stronger man. Before the end of 1654 the Lord Deputy gently complained that he was kept in the dark about matters of policy, and doubted whether this was for his Highness’s service. A few days later Henry Cromwell was appointed to the Council in Ireland, having already for some months held a commission as Major-General of the forces there; but he did not come over until July 1655. Fleetwood returned to England some weeks later, but retained the office of Deputy, and continued to give advice, while Henry became virtual head of the Irish Government. Fleetwood had come very much under the influence of the Anabaptist officers, and his supersession marks the decline of their reputation with the now all-powerful Protector.[279]

When Fleetwood left Ireland, Henry Cromwell became President of the Council. The other members were William Steele, Recorder of London, who did not come over till the next year, Richard Pepys, who became Chief Justice, Corbet, Goodwin, and Tomlinson. Hammond had died in 1654, and, five being a quorum, it was necessary that all should be present. To avoid this William Bury, of Grantham, was added in August 1656. The Anabaptist party were very sorry to lose Fleetwood, and rejoiced in a rumour of his probable return, but many superior officers, including Sir Theophilus Jones, Sir Hardress Waller, and Commissary-General Reynolds, circulated a petition to the Protector,[Pg 344] suggesting that his son should be Lord Lieutenant. Ludlow had given all the trouble he could, refusing to surrender his commission to any but the Parliament who gave it, and circulating pamphlets against the Protectorate, much to the disgust of Fleetwood. He, however, allowed his commission to be taken from him in an informal way, giving his parole to do nothing against the Government until he came into the Protector’s presence. He then proposed to go to England on urgent private affairs, and gave a second engagement to remain quiet until he had surrendered to the Protector or the Lord Deputy. On this undertaking Fleetwood gave him leave to go, and it was one of his last acts in Ireland. When the Deputy was gone Henry Cromwell opposed Ludlow’s departure, while declining to restrain him forcibly; but he took steps to have him intercepted at Beaumaris until the Protector’s wishes were known, and he was under arrest there for six weeks. Cromwell saw him after his arrival in London, and there was much not altogether unfriendly argument, but Ludlow stoutly refused to acknowledge the Government or to give any security. As a matter of fact he remained quiet while the protectorate lasted, and he was not molested.[280]

The infant settlement in Jamaica suffered much from a scarcity of women, and the English Government suggested that Irish girls might be sent out. ‘Concerning the young women,’ wrote Henry Cromwell in reply, ‘though we must use force in taking them up, yet it being so much for their own good, and likely to be of so great advantage to the public, it is not in the least doubted that you may have such numbers of them as you think fit.’ The Committee of Council in England voted that a thousand girls and as many boys should be sent, but there is no evidence that anything was actually done, and the probabilities are the other way. The[Pg 345] difficulties in Jamaica were great, and perhaps Cromwell thought that the time for importing settlers had not yet come.[281]

Considerable numbers were, however, sent from Ireland to the West Indies. They were not slaves, but were forced to work for wages, and could not leave the islands, to which they were sent in the character of masterless men, vagrants, rogues, and vagabonds. This system began in 1653, and continued until the Restoration or later. It was not confined to Ireland, many seditious persons in England having been treated in the same way. James II. continued the practice after Sedgemoor. For white men the climate alone was a terrible punishment. A large number of prisoners were thus treated after Penruddock’s rising. After Dunbar and Worcester English and Scotch captives were sent to New England, and others were ordered to Bermuda. At the beginning of 1655 the governor of Waterford was ordered to ship Morrice Cleere ‘by the first vessel bound for the Barbadoes, there to work for his living.’ About the same time it was ordered that ‘when a peaceable person was murdered’ by any Tory or ‘other Irish in rebellion,’ three or four of the chief Irish neighbours were to be shipped to Barbadoes, ‘and other American plantations,’ unless they could show that they had done their best to apprehend the guilty parties. An Irish priest who visited the West Indies in 1669 enlarges on the state of the Irish sent by Cromwell ‘and other fierce enemies of the Catholic Church and faith.’ They had been forced to work in the fields and ‘treated cruelly and miserably in temporal, and much more in spiritual things,’ being entirely precluded from Catholic worship, and from the ministration of their priests. There were 8000 in Barbadoes, and about 4000 in other settlements. In the French island of Guadeloupe there were 800, who were even worse off than in the English possessions, for they lived in the worst parts of it, and ‘though the island was Catholic they had little advantage[Pg 346] by that, on account of the distance, difficult access, and scarcity of priests.’[282]

Oliver Cromwell became Chancellor of Oxford, and it was natural that the University of Dublin should confer a like honour upon his son, Ormonde being outlawed by the Act of 1652. Almost immediately after his landing Henry was received in state and entertained at dinner by the vice-chancellor, provost, and others, ‘who, with many doctors, were all robed in scarlet.’ The vice-chancellor was Dr. Henry Jones, who kept his bishopric of Clogher in the background, his services as scoutmaster-general of the Parliamentary army having secured him in his place. The provost was Dr. Samuel Winter, who ranked as an Independent, but was inclined to maintain friendly relations with Episcopalians and Presbyterians. Very probably his influence was great in determining Henry Cromwell’s tolerant policy towards Protestants of all sorts; but this did not secure general good-will, for the Anabaptists were ‘much offended with him for coming every Lord’s Day to parochial and public congregations and with his chaplains for preaching against dipping.’ Winter himself preached and wrote in favour of infant baptism, and for adhering to him ‘a godly man’ was solemnly excommunicated by the Dublin Anabaptists, and had no alternative but to join the Independents. Henry Cromwell’s letters are full of complaints about the Anabaptists, and their opposition in the Government and army was formidable, for they could count twelve governors of cities or towns, twenty-four field officers, many captains, two salaried preachers, and twenty-three officials in civil pay. A clergyman at Galway complained of oppression by Colonel Sadler, the governor of Galway, his offence being that he had baptised children, and prevented ‘dipping’ in his church. He recalled the tyranny of John of Leyden and Knipperdoling, and lamented that so notable a town should[Pg 347] be abandoned to a ‘few mechanic barbers and tailors.’ Fleetwood had encouraged the sectaries more from weakness than from actual sympathy. Military adventurers, who had enjoyed despotic power during the war, were disgusted at having to share it with moderate men, and especially at the re-establishment of regular courts of law. Henry Cromwell was all for promoting ‘the ancient Protestant inhabitants,’ who had been dispersed and were now trying to return to their old occupations. Vincent Gookin and his friend Petty were thoroughly in favour of this moderate policy. Of the discontented people not one in a hundred had any property before the war, the rest having gained possession of what they could in payment for service or by buying out Adventurers and soldiers. ‘And the confiscation of land in Ireland,’ adds Gookin prophetically, ‘is so general, the settlers and sellers so many, the buyers and takers so few, except them, that it is certain within a year or two, all these men will have too great interests in forfeited lands to give them up to Charles Stuart, or any from him.’[283]

The reduction of the army in Ireland was a gradual and difficult operation. In 1652 its total strength was about 34,000 men, which were reduced to about 24,000 in the following year. In 1655, about 5000 more were disbanded without any disorder, and Fleetwood estimated that this would reduce the monthly cost to 28,000l., a saving of some 17,000l. As much haste as possible was made to provide the disbanded men with land, but they showed no disposition to settle upon it. Cavalier plots and military discontents induced the Protector to seek reinforcements in Ireland, and both Fleetwood and Henry Cromwell feared lest their garrisons might be unduly weakened, for[Pg 348] disturbances in Great Britain always had their echo beyond the channel. In January 1655, 2300 men were sent to Liverpool, but they embarked very unwillingly, saying that they had been engaged to fight Irish rebels, whereas in England they might be employed against their best friends. One company was cashiered by a court-martial, and one man was hanged at the masthead. Later on troops were sent from Ireland to Jamaica.[284]

It may be doubted whether Oliver Cromwell really had any dream of founding a dynasty. We have his own statement that he wished his sons to live privately in the country, and that he was only induced to promote Henry by the earnest persuasion of others. Having placed him in authority in Ireland he supported him steadily, but in a tentative way and without doing anything to estrange others. He was civil to Hewson and others who were inclined to give trouble, and refused to believe that Fleetwood was in any way disloyal. ‘Take care,’ he wrote to his son, ‘of making it a business to be too hard for the men who contest with you. Being over-concerned may train you into a snare. I have to do with these men, and am not without my exercise. I know they are weak because they are so peremptory in judging others.’ The Anabaptists were chiefly in his mind, but Henry had troubles with the Quakers also, and here, too, the Protector might sympathise. The danger always was that the army would become ill-affected. One of the most troublesome officers was Hewson, who took the lead in petitioning the Protector to send back ‘our present precious Lord Deputy,’ whose appointment had been ‘a refreshment to all the godly in this nation.’ Oliver answered civilly, but without granting the request, cautioning his son against believing anything discreditable to Fleetwood. Henry Cromwell also objected to having John Jones sent back to Ireland as likely to be ‘dangerous and prejudicial to the public,’ by nourishing factions, but drew back rather penitently when he found that Jones was to become his uncle by marrying the Protector’s sister. Hewson was not really dangerous:[Pg 349] he made terms for himself, was knighted by Oliver, and accepted a seat in his House of Lords. But Axtell, Vernon, Barrow, and Allen laid down their commissions because the Anabaptists ceased to be the ruling sect, Thurloe attributing their action merely to disappointed greed or ambition. The army, nevertheless, remained faithful, and Henry Cromwell did his best to get the soldiers regularly paid.[285]

In the summer of 1656 Henry Cromwell had become so weary of calumny and so disheartened for want of effectual support that he wished to retire; but Thurloe assured him that the tale-bearers were not believed in England, and that he might go on with his work. It was at this time that the Protector resolved to try a second Parliament, and writs for the Irish elections were sent over. The major-generals and the decimation tax were very unpopular in England, but in Ireland the army was so completely master that there was not much difficulty about getting thirty suitable members. Broghill, who as President of the Council in Scotland managed the elections there, was returned in his absence for the county of Cork, Sir Charles Coote for Galway and Mayo, and Vincent Gookin for Cork and Kinsale. Broghill voted for the title of king, but Henry Cromwell was against it, thinking little of the constitutional argument which had such weight with men like Whitelock, and esteeming it ‘a gaudy feather in the hat of authority.’ The Protector refused the crown, and it would have been well for his fame if he had also insisted on altering the eleventh article of the Petition and Advice which secured religious liberty, provided ‘it should not be extended to Popery or Prelacy.’ This having been admitted as a principle of government, the logical consequence was to pass an Act which obliged all suspected persons over[Pg 350] sixteen to take an oath abjuring the distinctive doctrines of the Roman communion, on pain of having two-thirds of their property—real and personal—sequestered. Those who afterwards became Protestants might be restored upon taking the oath, but not unless they have given frequent attendance for the previous six months at some authorised place of worship, being subject to renewed sequestration if they relapsed. The same penalties applied to any Protestant who married a Popish Recusant. ‘The oath of abjuration,’ Henry Cromwell wrote, ‘begets much disturbance here; for the Irish, upon apprehension thereof, sell off their cattle to buy horses, to put themselves into a shifting condition either for force or flight.... I wish his Highness were made sensible hereof in time.’ Dr. Jones said the same thing, adding that the oath ‘was the great engine by which the Popish clergy stir up the people, and whereby they move foreign states to their assistance.’ Cromwell allowed this oppressive law to pass, though it was a retrograde measure, and one which he cannot really have approved. The unfortunate people affected by it in Ireland were in no condition to give serious trouble, but it must have led to the multiplication of Tories.[286]

The Cavaliers abroad were constantly plotting against the English Government and the Protector’s life, but these intrigues had scarcely any direct effect on Ireland. Richard and Peter Talbot were among the most active conspirators, and the landing of Irish troops was always regarded as part of the scheme. The exiles were discussing Sexby’s plans at the beginning of 1656, and the Protector, who was always well informed, thought it possible that some attempt might be made in Ireland. He directed his son, and the order was promptly obeyed, to reduce garrisons as much as possible, and to keep a field army in two or three divisions ready for any alarm. John Davies, who had been elected for Carrickfergus and Belfast, was known to be an underhand Royalist[Pg 351] worker, and he was not allowed to go to England. It was in the north that trouble was expected, but nothing happened. Five thousand foot and nearly half as many horse were held in readiness, and Henry Cromwell was after this averse to a reduction of the army, at least until an efficient Protestant militia could be provided. Helpless and decadent Spain was the enemy whose still remaining force was overrated by Cromwell. Nevertheless, he failed in Hispaniola, and dared not attempt Gibraltar, so that his naval strength was mainly useful to hold Jamaica by occupying the Spaniards near home. The end of 1656 was marked by Stayner’s capture of the galleons, but also by a disaster on the Irish coast. A fleet carrying reinforcements for Jamaica was dispersed by a gale, and one ship, the Two Brothers, having sprung a leak, drifted towards a lee shore to the westward of the Old Head of Kinsale. Four men were detached on a raft ‘with a letter in a pitch box,’ and they reached land too much bruised to move further. The letter was taken to the governor of Kinsale, but the ship’s cable parted in the meantime and she was driven upon a rock. There were saved only about forty soldiers out of some 250, and sixteen seamen out of twenty-nine. The Rev. Edward Worth, whose parsonage was at Ringrone, not far off, thanked God that the wreck was in the barony of Courcies, ‘for the greater part inhabited by English and such Irish as were never in rebellion; divers of the English and many more of the Irish attended all that evening on the coast, not to get the plunder, but to preserve the men whom it should please God to bring to shore.’ It was ebb tide, and as each poor wretch was thrown up by the sea, the hardy natives ran down and helped him to escape before the next wave. Worth and his neighbours provided shelter, and the people of Kinsale vied with each other in providing for the castaways; for the natural sentiments of humanity had survived the war, and were extended to the soldiers of the Commonwealth. Another transport, the Sapphire, from Carrickfergus, was driven into Cork harbour in an almost sinking state, and 260 soldiers, forming her cargo, were quartered in the Great Island, where they could[Pg 352] be prevented from deserting. Both these ships were the property of contractors, and supposed to be in good trim. When the paint was off they proved to be ‘very unsound and rotten, and I think,’ says Henry Cromwell, ‘that those who were employed to contract for those ships are deeply guilty of the loss of those poor men.’[287]

After some hesitation and confusion, Henry Cromwell was appointed Deputy in November 1657, with a new council of five, of whom Chancellor Steele was the chief. Sindercome had already put an end to himself, and Sexby was safe in the Tower, where he died mad a few weeks later. Royalist plots with Spanish support had ceased to be formidable, and some reduction of the army in Ireland was possible, if only money could be had to pay off the soldiers, who were eight months in arrear before the end of 1657. The Deputy maintained that nothing like an equilibrium could be established unless 180,000l. were transmitted from England. The regular revenue of Ireland was only about 72,000l., which was absorbed by the ordinary charges of government, and the extraordinary taxation for the army weighed upon the country. Broghill reported that some who had been returned to Parliament could not possibly attend the second session, being impoverished by the expenses of the first, and by heavy taxes. The usual remittances from England were slow in coming, and there was also ‘extreme trouble and confusion about Spanish and bad coins which made the soldiers apt to grow licentious in abusing the country when they levied their contribution.’ They naturally decided questions of exchange in their own favour, ‘partly of necessity, and partly presuming ’twill seem unreasonable to punish severely, and pay negligently.’ Twenty thousand pounds were assessed upon Ireland for war purposes during the three months ending June 24, 1657, and 9000l. a month for the three years then beginning. The monthly contribution from England and Wales[Pg 353] was 35,000l., and 6000l. from Scotland, and many thought Ireland disproportionately burdened. Indeed, Henry Cromwell says in one letter that she paid six times, and in another ten times too much. The difficulty about money continued to the end of the Protectorate, for Oliver had not time to summon a third Parliament, and Richard’s was short-lived. Without parliamentary authority it was impossible to make the State self-supporting on either side of St. George’s Channel.[288]

It was almost customary for a viceroy to be on ill terms with a Lord Chancellor, and Henry Cromwell thought that Steele was plotting to make a separate interest among the Independents. Henry was by many years the younger man, and he allowed his senior to lecture him, ‘supposing that if I got nothing else I should get his measure.’ But Thurloe did not believe his suspicions well founded, and Steele, who had only accidentally missed being a regicide, had really no course open to him but to support the Protector. After Oliver dissolved his second Parliament, calling upon God to judge between him and them, most of the officers in England and Scotland agreed to an address of confidence in him. The same course was taken in Ireland, but Major Low, an Anabaptist, refused to express a wish that ‘government should be settled on such a basis as should be most suitable to the constitution of these nations,’ saying that it implied a return to kingship. Sankey and others of the same sect said that if kingship were really the most suitable they would desire it: the Deputy must have seen the writing on the wall. Ormonde’s courageous visit to London, in January, and the abortive gathering at Ostend caused some momentary alarm, but there was no disturbance, and a little later the capture of Dunkirk raised Cromwell to his highest pinnacle of fame. The army remained faithful, and as long[Pg 354] as life lasted it was evident to all that his power would last also.[289]

Oliver Cromwell died, and Richard succeeded as quietly as if he had been the legitimate king. The news reached Dublin on October 10, and on the same day the new Protector was proclaimed. Having been signed by the Lord Deputy and such Privy Councillors, judges, and chief officers as were on the spot, the proclamation was printed and dispersed over the country next day. There was no opposition, Broghill among others announcing his adhesion. A despatch was sent to Monck promising him the unanimous support of the Irish army in any difficulty. The machinery of government went on as usual, but on October 6 Richard made his brother Lord Lieutenant, and Petty carried the commission over to Ireland. Lord Harry, as he was called, was not anxious for the higher title; but having been appointed he kept the same state as Strafford had done, which caused some amusement. An address from the army in Ireland to the new Protector was agreed to, the officers being quite or very nearly unanimous. But Henry was almost afraid to write, knowing that his letter would be opened, and Fauconberg kept him informed of the plots against his brother. He dared not leave his post, though much in want of a holiday. ‘I am afraid,’ he wrote to Richard as early as October 20, ‘to come to your Highness lest I should be kept there, and so your Highness lose this army, which, for ought I know, is the only stay you have ... the flood is so strong, you can neither stem it nor come to an anchor, but must be content to go adrift and expect the ebb.’[290]

Henry Cromwell was ill and despondent during the months following his father’s death. He knew in his heart that the system could not long outlive the man, and Thurloe, whose judgment was not warped by fanaticism, could give[Pg 355] him little comfort. ‘The funeral,’ he wrote, ‘of his late Highness was solemnised this day with very great honour; but alas! it was his funeral.’ When the Lord Lieutenant’s commission came over it was found to contain no clause authorising him to leave Ireland or to appoint a Deputy, and as if he felt Restoration in the air he looked to Charles I. for a precedent, and sent over his letter to Strafford as a model. He had, he wrote, been sentenced by his enemies to an honourable banishment. Thurloe professed that the omission was a mere oversight, but Fauconberg said bluntly that his brother-in-law’s presence in London was desired by no one. ‘They that hate you fear you too, and, therefore, oppose it, they that love you have apprehensions neither Ireland nor Henry Cromwell are secure if separated.’ And Richard was of the same opinion. Moreover, he could hardly be spared until the elections were over, and writs for the new Parliament arrived about the middle of December. It had been decided that thirty members should be sent from Ireland and the same from Scotland by constituencies grouped upon Oliver’s plan. The English members were to be returned by the old counties and boroughs, giving up the late Protector’s attempt at parliamentary reform, but the Upper House was left as he had devised it, and separate writs for it were sent to the Lord Lieutenant, to Lord Chancellor Steele, and to Lord Broghill. Petty was returned for West Loo, Coote for Galway and Mayo, and Vincent Gookin for Bandon and Kinsale. Broghill thought a Parliament necessary, but was not sanguine, and foresaw opposition from the army.[291]

The notice for the elections was so short that many or most of the Irish members could not reach London in time for the opening of Parliament; but this made little difference, for the House of Commons was occupied at first in the[Pg 356] discussion of the Protector’s title, the constitution of the ‘other House,’ and the status of the Scotch members. Parliament met on January 27, and it was not till March 23 that it was debated whether the members for Ireland should continue to serve. In the meantime they were allowed to speak and, apparently, to vote. Major Ashton, who represented Meath and Louth, preferred a separate legislature, partly on the ground that Ireland should have no share in governing England. Arthur Annesley, who sat for the city of Dublin, was of the same opinion—mainly, because Ireland would be overtaxed by an assembly where she was always in a minority. At the moment, he said, Ireland very unfairly paid 9000l. a month while Scotland paid only 6000l., and his prayer was ‘that they might have some to hear their grievances in their own nation, seeing they cannot have them heard here.’ Sir Thomas Stanley, member for Tipperary and Waterford, said he spoke not for Ireland, but for the English in Ireland. ‘Language, habit, laws, interest being in every respect the same in kind,’ he was in favour of the Union, for free-born Englishmen beyond the channel had a natural right to representation in the sovereign Parliament. A hundred and fifty-six voted for the retention of the Irish members, and a hundred and six against, Thurloe being one of the tellers for the majority. After this the Parliament had but one short month of life, during which Irish affairs seem to have been but little discussed, except in the matter of Petty and his proceedings.[292]

Petty’s great enemy was Sir Hierome Sankey, who had had a varied career. At Cambridge, where he was a candidate for Holy Orders, he was more noted for proficiency in athletic games than for study, and soon rose in the army when he took the Parliamentary side at the beginning of the Civil War. He became in turns a Presbyterian, an Independent, and at last an Anabaptist. He migrated to Oxford, where he became Fellow of All Souls, and was one of the proctors when Fairfax and Cromwell were made Doctors of Civil Law in[Pg 357] 1649. He sat in the Parliament of 1654 for Tipperary and Waterford, and in that of 1656 for Marlborough. Henry Cromwell knighted him, and in Richard’s Parliament he represented Woodstock. On March 24 he charged Petty with various kinds of corruption, but without giving particulars, and in the accused man’s absence. Maynard, who was himself an Adventurer in Ireland and who touched on his own experience in the Strafford trial, fixed upon this want of particulars, and he was not without support. The most that Sankey could do was to sign six articles, all of the most general character; and these were sent to Petty in Ireland, with orders to attend in his place that day month. The summons did not reach him until April 3, so that he had only seventeen days to make his preparations and travel from Dublin to London. He had some reason to complain of the short time allowed him.[293]

On April 21 Petty attended as directed, and spoke at length in answer to the articles. His speech was dignified and moderate, and made a very good impression on the House. The first charge was that he had received great bribes. To this he answered that as clerk of the Council he had never taken anything but the bare salary, and that as secretary to Henry Cromwell he had been a pecuniary loser, not exacting even the customary fees, ‘merely upon the account of preserving his Excellency’s honour clear, and myself clear from the least appearance of this evil.’ The burden of proof evidently lay upon the accuser. The second charge was that he had been a wholesale purchaser of debentures, contrary to the Act of Satisfaction, forcing people to sell as a condition for having their lands set out to them. To this Petty replied that he had many colleagues and was well watched, so that he could not use coercion if he had wished; that the debentures bought by him were under 7000l. in value, and that he had got them from brokers, who profited by the transaction. The third article charged him with the fraudulent acquisition of much money and land,[Pg 358] to which he answered that the only public payment to him was by contract; that the 17,000l. which the survey cost was well and hardly earned; and that the soldiers had paid half of it themselves. As to land, he had no more than a fair consideration for what was owed him. The fourth charge was a general one of foul and unwarrantable practices, on which he was content to challenge the production of a single instance. The fifth and sixth articles accused Petty and his colleagues of malversation generally, and was scarcely worth answering, since they did not fall particularly on him. He abstained from recrimination in debate, but took ample revenge by publishing a report of Sankey’s reply, which begins thus: ‘Mr. Speaker, you have heard here a long, starched, studied speech; I say a starched, studied piece. Mr. Speaker, there has been a great deal of rhetoric; I say a great deal of rhetoric. But I will prove my charge; I will make it good, Mr. Speaker, from the front to the rear—front, flank, and rear; Mr. Speaker, that I will,’ and so forth. No real evidence of any kind was adduced, or even mentioned, and the business was referred to the Lord Lieutenant and Council of Ireland. Richard’s Parliament was dissolved the next day, and we are justified in believing his brother’s oft-repeated assertion that Dr. Petty was a very honest man.[294]

Richard Cromwell probably knew quite well that the dissolution of Parliament was virtually an abdication, and he resisted to the utmost. But the officers were determined to depose him, and he had no hold upon soldiers whom he had never led to victory. His brother in Ireland could only wait upon events, rejoicing ‘that our dear father went off in that glory which was due to his actings.’ He sent over Bury, Lawrence, and Dr. Henry Jones to confer with Fleetwood as to what was to be done. The Rump was restored in less than[Pg 359] three weeks, but so attenuated was that once formidable assembly that a quorum of forty was with difficulty got together. Ninety-one members in all were admitted to sit, several of whom had been elected in an unconstitutional manner, and the number meeting at any one time never reached sixty. Lenthall, notwithstanding his new-fangled peerage, was induced to take the chair. Immediately after the late dissolution Coote had hurried to Ireland with the news, and Broghill went over about the same time. On June 7 the House resolved that Henry Cromwell, whose opposition they feared, should come over to give an account of the state of Ireland, and that on the same day the government should be handed over to five commissioners. Steele, Jones, and Goodwin were named at once, Corbet and Tomlinson being added two days later. Ludlow’s name was rejected by twenty-six votes against twenty-two, but a month later he was appointed to command the army, and he reached Dublin about the end of July.[295]

The rumour of his recall reached Henry Cromwell before he had any official notice, and he decided to resign without waiting for it. Great offers had been made to him on the part of the exiled King, and he seems to have wavered for a moment, though finally he thanked God for having been enabled to resist temptation. The Royalists had relied on Fauconberg’s powers of persuasion, and Charles expected Broghill’s help, though he prudently avoided making any direct advance to that astute politician. In his letter of resignation to the Speaker he complained that he had had ‘the unhappiness of late to receive intelligence only from common fame and very private hands, and to be forced rather to guess what to do upon all emergencies than to be intrusted with the clear commands of superiors.’ He had secured the fidelity of the army to the English Government so that that ‘dangerous, numerous, and exasperated people, the Irish natives and Papists,’ might be no cause for anxiety. He warned the[Pg 360] Parliament that as they had been turned out of doors in 1653, so they might well be again and by the same people. He was himself a lover of peace and of orderly civil government, but ‘I cannot,’ he said, ‘promote anything which infers the diminution of my late father’s honour and merit.’ The Royalists, having failed to gain him over, were afraid of his heading a separate interest; and Clarendon, who had been concerned in the abortive negotiations, says that ‘by the jolliness of his humour and a general civility towards all, he had rendered himself gracious and popular to all sorts of people.’ He left Ireland soon after his resignation, told his story to the Council of State on July 6, and retired to Cambridgeshire.[296]

It is probable that materials do not exist for a full account of Henry Cromwell. His public career ended at the age of thirty-one, and he had no opportunity of showing much originality. The confiscation of Irish land to pay the expenses of conquering the country was decided upon when he was quite a boy, and he had no voice in the subsequent legislation. So far as Protestants were concerned, he leaned towards comprehension, and allowed no sect or party to dominate over the rest. As to the Roman Catholics, there was little scope for any movement in the direction of toleration, but he disliked the oath of abjuration. ‘I wish,’ he said, ‘this extreme course had not been so suddenly taken, coming like a thunder-clap upon them. I wish the oath for the present had provided (though in severest manner) for their renouncing all foreign jurisdiction; and as for other doctrinal matters, that some means had been first used to have informed their judgments with such ordinary smaller penalties as former experience has found effectual. I wish his Highness were made sensible thereof in time.’ He was fain to dispense with the oath, but Thurloe thought this could not be done[Pg 361] without an Act of Parliament, though it might be modified in practice by those on the spot; and this was just what Henry Cromwell did. In other political matters he showed good judgment, questioning the real value of Dunkirk, objecting to penal taxation of the Cavaliers, and showing how impossible it was to bind a nation by oaths or any other contrivance. ‘To what,’ he asked, ‘shall men swear? Have you any settlement? Does not your peace depend upon his Highness’s life, and upon his peculiar skill and faculty and personal interest in the army as now modelled and commanded?’ He was always loyal to his father, but he had been in love with Dorothy Osborne, and he had no objection to Royalists as such. It seems that he might have made a party for himself at the cost of much bloodshed, and he deserves nothing but praise for preferring to retire quietly. Oliver had warned him against the temptation to build up a great estate, and though he did not refuse to take grants of land like everyone else, he had at the end of his government scarcely money enough to carry him back to England.[297]

[Pg 362]

CHAPTER XXXIX

THE RESTORATION

The Commissioners appointed by Parliament carried on the civil government for about six months after Henry Cromwell’s resignation, but the really important thing was the attitude of the army. Ludlow and John Jones went over together in July, and on their way to Holyhead heard rumours of a coming rising under Sir George Booth. Soon after their arrival in Ireland one hundred men were sent to reinforce Beaumaris and the neighbouring garrisons. On landing at Ringsend, ‘the guard that had formerly attended Cromwell’ was waiting under Sir Theophilus Jones, and escorted the new commander-in-chief into Dublin. The Commissioners arranged to preside for a month in turn, Ludlow sitting next the chairman when present, and having precedence at other times; in official documents he was styled ‘Excellency.’ He had brought with him a letter of credit for 30,000l., which added weight to his promise of regular pay for the soldiers. As soon as the insurrection broke out in Cheshire he was ordered to send over a thousand foot and five hundred horse; and they were despatched within ten days, under Sankey’s command, two months’ pay having been advanced to them. During the disorderly period which followed they became known as the Irish Brigade.[298]

Ludlow was determined not to be again kept in Ireland as a kind of exile, and took the precaution of having a clause in his commission allowing him to return when he chose, and to appoint a substitute in his absence. Before taking advantage of this he devoted himself to a reform of the army, for[Pg 363] he found ‘divers of the officers guilty of habitual immoralities, many of them accustomed to detain the pay of the private soldiers, and most of them debauched in their principles by the late usurpation of the Cromwells.’ Many of them, especially in Connaught and Clare, had married Irish Papists, and some who professed Protestantism might ‘justly be suspected to continue Papists.’ Many were dismissed, and their places filled as far as possible by men who had been cashiered for adhering to the Parliament as against the Protectorate. In the meantime the Irish Brigade at Derby supported Lambert and those who proposed to make him Major-General. Copies of their petition were sent to Ireland by Sankey, and officers there were invited to concur; but Ludlow assembled as many as he could and persuaded them that England would never submit to be governed by the sword. He then prepared to go to England, and wished to leave the military as well as the civil authority in the hands of the Commissioners; but this they refused to accept. He then appointed Jones, who was one of them, to be his substitute, for he regarded Waller as a time-server, and Sankey had made himself impossible. As a member of Parliament and one of the late King’s judges, Jones might at all events be trusted not to favour Charles Stuart. On reaching Beaumaris Ludlow heard that the Parliament had once more, as Henry Cromwell had foreshadowed, been turned out of doors by the soldiers. Lambert, who was in command, had narrowly escaped the Tower, and was actually deprived of his commission along with Desborough and others. The Act constituting Fleetwood commander-in-chief in Great Britain was repealed, and he became one of a commission of seven along with Ludlow, Monck, and others. Among them was Haselrig, whom Lambert believed to be thirsting for his blood, and he professed to be acting in self-defence.[299]

As soon as Monck heard of what had happened in London[Pg 364] he wrote to Ludlow as his fellow-commissioner for the government of the army, declaring that the forces under his immediate command were unanimous for Parliament, and declaring his intention to ‘prosecute this business against ambition and tyranny to the last drops of my blood till they be restored.’ The letter reached Jones in Ireland, and an answer was sent by him. Cornet Henry Monck, the general’s nephew, was in Dublin, and thought the army neutral, until fourteen field-officers signed an address to the army in England, by which he observed that all who inclined to Anabaptism were against the Parliament. The answer sent to Monck was signed by Jones himself and Sir Hardress Waller, Colonel Cooper, governor of Carrickfergus, Colonel Lawrence, governor of Waterford, Colonel Phaire, governor of Cork, Colonel Nicholas Kempson, Ludlow’s brother-in-law, and Dr. Henry Jones. These officers declared that any division of action or opinion in the army would be ‘found in the issue to be nothing else but the opening of a door for the common enemy to come in,’ and the event showed that they were not far wrong. At the same time Monck was informed by his nephew that he would have the support of Sir Charles Coote, Sir Theophilus Jones, and most of the other officers. Sankey, who commanded the Irish Brigade in England, sided with Lambert; but Colonel Redman, who served under him, was already in communication with Charles II. While the action of the army remained uncertain, the Commissioners carried on the civil government, and there were no serious disturbances. Large numbers of the transplanted still refused to stir, and the Tories were troublesome in many places. An order went forth in September to disarm all Irish Papists in Wicklow and to seize their arms and ammunition. There was a particularly active gang of marauders about Castledermot. Some weeks later a seizure was made at the custom-house of Quaker books which denounced the Government as anti-Christian and the ministers established by them as ‘priests, hirelings, and dumb dogs.’ The very last order of Jones and his colleagues appears to have been one for the suppression of the Christmas holidays, as giving rise to debauchery and[Pg 365] only calculated to ‘uphold idolatry and superstition derived from the Church of Rome.’[300]

The order against Christmas was made on December 9, and four days later the whole face of affairs was changed. Sir Theophilus Jones and some other officers determined, after Lambert had dismissed the Parliament, to free themselves from subjection to the Wallingford House party. They began by petitioning John Jones as commander-in-chief to call a general council of officers to consider the situation, Sir Hardress Waller as the next in rank undertaking to take the lead in the matter. Jones dared not refuse such a request altogether, but the malcontents intercepted a letter from Fleetwood from which they understood that the opportunity would be taken to arrest them. There were but five companies of foot and three troops of horse in Dublin whose fidelity Jones had little reason to doubt. But Captain Bond persuaded his own company to seize the Castle gates and make prisoners of Jones, Corbet, and Tomlinson. A declaration in favour of the Parliament was cried through the streets next morning and generally approved of. The officers who had laid the plot were thus in the possession of the only magazine, which had just been replenished with five hundred barrels of powder, and no resistance could be attempted. The other garrisons were quickly mastered, Coote securing Galway, while Broghill held Youghal, Bandon and Kinsale. The garrisons of Cork, Limerick, Waterford, and Athlone took the same course; and the submission of Londonderry settled the question in Ulster. Colonel Cooper, the governor of Carrickfergus, who might have given trouble in the northern province, died in his chair within a week. The officers in Dublin at once informed Monck of what had been done; the news was also sent to London and Portsmouth, while Coote and Broghill were urged to come to Dublin. Sir Hardress Waller acquiesced, though he had signed the answer to Monck, and became for the moment commander-in-chief.[Pg 366] The Irish Brigade in England declared for the Parliament on December 21, and Sankey was arrested by Monck, who was welcomed by Redman at the head of the troops when he came to Leicester.[301]

Sir Theophilus Jones had six troops of horse ready to go to Monck’s assistance, but Lambert’s star waned so fast that they were not wanted. Whitelock saw that a restoration was inevitable, and nearly persuaded Fleetwood to seize the Tower, communicate with the King, and get credit for what he could not prevent. But Desborough and others reminded him that he was bound to Lambert, who was at Newcastle, and he refused to stir without consulting him. ‘Then,’ said Whitelock, ‘you will ruin yourself and your friends.’ ‘I cannot help it,’ was the answer; and that exactly represents Fleetwood’s attitude. On December 26 the Rump without his aid retook possession of their House amidst the acclamations of the very soldiers who had kept them out of it. The news reached Monck at Coldstream four or five days later, and on January 1 he crossed the Tweed, Lambert being deserted by his army. From Durham he sent Sir Joseph Douglas to gain over Coote, and he was also in communication with Broghill; but by this time both were in Dublin, and fully committed to the cause of the Parliament.[302]

Ludlow was a genuine Republican, and his great object was to prevent a restoration of the monarchy. ‘It was,’ he says, ‘my judgment, that if either the Parliament or the army should entirely prevail one against the other in this[Pg 367] juncture, it would hazard the ruin of both.’ The Parliament alone could provide regular sustenance for the army which was necessary for its own protection, and it was by establishing a balance that Charles Stuart might be kept out. With these ideas, and with some hopes of furthering them through his position at the head of the Irish army, he set out for Dublin as soon as the restoration of the Parliament was practically arranged. He could not but agree with the decision of the officers in Ireland to co-operate for that purpose with the generals at Portsmouth, with Monck, and with Vice-Admiral Lawson, but he distrusted Sir Theophilus Jones, Colonel Bridges, and others who had supported the protectorate; and Coote’s attitude was evidently suspicious. Ludlow embarked upon the Oxford frigate, and anchored off his own house at Monkstown on the last of December, but did not venture to land until he knew what was going on. Before he appeared upon the coast, Coote and the others had resolved not to admit him as commander-in-chief without fresh orders from Parliament. Ludlow sent a letter to Waller and his colleagues, offering to help in the good work, but they answered that his appearance was very unacceptable, that they did not believe he was true to the Parliament, and that they would not resign their power without direct orders from that body. They also hinted very plainly that they were quite ready to arrest Ludlow if so directed. Captain Lucas, who brought the letter, suggested that he should go to the council of officers and adjust all differences by personal intercourse; but he answered that he knew their principles much too well to trust himself in their hands, adding that their attachment to the Parliament was feigned, and their real design ‘to destroy both them and their friends, and to bring in the son of the late King.’ Cavalry were sent to prevent him from landing, and he was not allowed to get water or provisions. Seeing that nothing could be done, Ludlow sent letters to London by the ordinary packet, along with some which he had intercepted, and after three days’ waiting, sailed to Duncannon, Corbet having taken refuge in his ship. They were received with joy by Captain Skinner,[Pg 368] whom Ludlow had appointed governor; but Waterford was as hostile as Dublin had been, and he was not allowed even to ship provisions which he had paid for. Attempts were also made to alienate the garrison of the fort by representing him as a deserter from the Parliament, and cattle intended for their relief were driven off by cavalry under Colonel Edmund Temple. A few days later Duncannon was blockaded by a sufficient force under Colonel Thomas Scot, the regicide’s son; but some provisions were introduced in the meantime.[303]

As he endeavoured to keep terms with the Wallingford House party, it was possible to represent Ludlow as an enemy or lukewarm friend to the Parliament. Why, it was asked, had he left London two days before its restoration? His commission, to be of any value under the circumstances, should be dated after that event, whereas he depended on what had been done before the late interval of military violence. In a letter written during that enforced recess he had addressed John Jones as ‘Dear friend,’ and expressed a fear that the Long Parliament would be ‘very high, in case they should be brought in without conditions.’ Two or three days after Ludlow’s arrival at Duncannon, the victorious party in Dublin sent over articles of impeachment against him, Jones, Corbet, and Tomlinson, which were read in the House on January 19. The powers of the accused were at once suspended, and they were summoned to attend, Ludlow being specially ordered to surrender Duncannon to Coote and Jones. The fort was beset in the meantime, and before the decision of Parliament was known Captain Skinner complained that the soldiers outside insulted the garrison with expressions in use only among the worst kind of Cavaliers, such as ‘God damn them!’ and ‘Go to your prayers!’ Some called for the Parliament of 1641, some for that of 1647, and some complained that it was reduced to a ‘rump, fag-end, or limb.’ There had been earlier orders for Ludlow and the three Commissioners to go over and give an account of the state of Ireland, and Monck, whose suggestions at the moment had[Pg 369] almost the weight of commands, pressed for their recall and for the appointment of Coote, Broghill, and three others. Ludlow sailed from Duncannon in obedience to the first summons, heard of the impeachment on his way to London, and took his seat in Parliament along with Corbet on January 30. Tomlinson was a prisoner in Dublin Castle, and John Jones at Athlone.[304]

Broghill, Coote, and Major William Bury were appointed Commissioners for the government of Ireland in January, and by the end of the month the officers in Dublin had a pretty good understanding with Monck; but they probably forced his hand by summoning a convention to meet on February 7. The places represented were as in Strafford’s time, but no doubt care was taken that the assembly should be entirely Protestant. Sir James Barry, afterwards Lord Santry, was chosen Speaker, and William Temple sat for the county of Carlow. The Council of State ordered the convention to dissolve, but this they refused, while repudiating any idea of separation from England. Sir Hardress Waller had hitherto gone with the rest; but it became evident that Royalism was winning, and he had sat regularly as one of the late King’s judges, and signed his death-warrant. He made himself master of the Castle, and it was believed that he intended to seize Coote and other leaders who had declared in print for a free Parliament and the readmission of all the secluded members. The convention had the power of the purse, and the soldiers in the Castle, who were probably tired of barrack-revolutions and deferred pay, surrendered Waller and the few officers who supported him. Coote sent Sir Arthur Forbes, a noted Royalist who had been with Montrose, to Brussels with an offer of his services, and Charles gladly accepted them, offering an earldom and other benefits, and proposing to join him, ‘except it be more necessary that I go[Pg 370] for England.’ Broghill sent his brother Francis, afterwards Lord Shannon, about the same time; and, if we are to believe his not very trustworthy biographer, Charles was on the point of starting for Ireland by way of Calais when he heard that things were going so well in England as to make the journey unnecessary. What is more certain is that Broghill was at Cork three days after Waller’s attempt, and there, at the head of the Munster officers, signed a declaration in favour of a full and free Parliament, and of readmitting the members ousted by Pride’s Purge. All men, they said, were tired of anarchy and of authorities constantly changing, and for the moment there was no safety but in restoring the Long Parliament to its unpurged condition. ‘If the excluded members be readmitted, they must be either the greater or the lesser number in the House; if the lesser, where is the danger of their admission? If the greater, where is the justice of their exclusion? For then it will appear that the minor number keeps out the major.’ Whatever may have been Broghill’s secret negotiations, he kept up a correspondence with Thurloe long after Monck had come to Whitehall, and repudiated the idea of bringing in the King as late as April 24. Even on May 8, when Charles was proclaimed in London, he still talked of preserving ‘the just rights we contended for so successfully in the war,’ very truly observing that if no conditions were made before the then inevitable restoration, it would be next to impossible to make any afterwards.[305]

According to his biographer and chaplain, Broghill was the moving spirit, and Coote acted under his influence; but[Pg 371] this is extremely doubtful. Broghill loved tortuous ways, and was perhaps anxious to leave himself a loophole in any case. Foreseeing the importance of the Convention Parliament in England, he was most anxious to be in it, and, having married a Howard, he found a seat at Arundel. Coote and his friends were ready to declare themselves before decisive steps were taken in London, but it was felt that the restored King might be embarrassed by premature action, and means were taken to delay proceedings. Charles II. was not proclaimed in Dublin till May 14, and on the 25th Broghill was sent with Coote and others to attend the King. Whatever those in all the secrets may have thought, Coote was at first much better received by the Royalists generally, who looked upon his colleague and rival as a trimmer. Three days later the Irish Convention adjourned till November. Monck was appointed Lord Lieutenant and Lord Roberts Deputy; but neither of them came over, and at the end of the year Sir Maurice Eustace, who had been made Lord Chancellor, was appointed Lord Justice, with Coote and Broghill as colleagues. The two soldiers were treated as of equal importance, the one being made Earl of Orrery on September 5, and the other Earl of Mountrath on the following day.[306]

[Pg 372]
[Pg 373]

INDEX

TO

THE SECOND VOLUME

Aberdeen, 14, 15, 63

Acton church, 54

Acton, near Bristol, 162

Adair, Patrick, 58, 341

— Sir Robert, 341

Adamstown, 83

Adare, 150

Adrian’s bull, 154

Adventurers, 36

Aghada, 92

Aghenure, 5, 278

Agher, 8, 11, 296

Algiers, 296

Allen, Adjutant-General, 267, 349

— hill of, 216

Amboyna, 195

Annagh, 92

Anne of Austria, 99

Annesley, Arthur, afterwards Earl of Anglesey, 56, 144, 146, 186

Antonio, Captain, 72

Antrim, Randal MacDonnell, 1st Marquis of, 18, 25, 35;

nominal Lieutenant-General, 57;

sends men to Montrose, 60-64, 141;

President of Supreme Council, 145, 161;

at Paris, 162;

tries to thwart Ormonde, 172, 173, 188, 212, 224, 225, 227

— town and county, 95, 210

Arcamoni, Giuseppe, 176, 177

Ardee, 196

Ardfinane, 22, 23

Ardtully, 101

Argyle, Archibald, 1st Marquis of, 61, 62

Arkin, 298

Arklow, 198

Armagh, 16, 24, 28, 59, 60, 118, 228

Armstrong, Sir Thomas, 225

Arran islands, 41, 282

Arras, 20

Artois, Duchess of, 296

Arundel, 371

Ashley, Captain, 38

Ashton, Major and M.P., 356

Askeaton, 41

Aston, Captain, 80

— Sir Arthur, 192-195

Athboy, 51

Athenry, 43, 261

— (Bermingham), Lord, 251

Athlone, 5, 9, 10, 41, 51, 130, 169, 248, 261;

Castle taken, 266, 295;

court of claims, 334

Augher, 95, 121

Augustinians, 78, 239

Axtell, Daniel, regicide, 248, 249, 264, 279, 349

Baal, 197

Bagenal, Walter, 62, 128, 138

Baggotrath, 184, 185

Bagni, Monsignor dei, 100

Baillie, Robert, 56

Baker, Abraham, 11, 12

— Thomas, 12

Balbriggan, 15

Bale, John, Bishop of Ossory, 219

Ballagh, 10

Ballaghdereen, 262

Ballimore, 260

Ballina, in Kildare, 18

Ballinacargy, 270

Ballinafeeg, 32

Ballinakill, 17, 29, 32, 34

Ballinalack, 260

[Pg 374]Ballinasloe, 95

Ballincollig, 4

Ballingarry, 41

Ballinrobe, 6

Ballintober, 10

Ballyallia, 11, 12

Ballycarra, 6

Ballycastle, 205, 229

Ballygarth, 193

Ballyhooly, 92

Ballymore, 9

Ballyquin, 116

Ballyragget, 32

Ballyshannon, in Donegal, 21, 58, 287

— or Ballisonan, in Kildare, 16-18, 186, 216

Baltimore, 38, 209

Banagher, 23, 43, 169, 248

Banbridge, 24

Bandon, 3, 13, 23, 37, 70, 71, 208, 209

Bane, John, 154

Bann river, 24, 197

Barbadoes, 42, 194, 345

Barebone’s Parliament, Irish members in, 321

Barham, Thomas, Dean of Ross, 92

Barnesmore, 262

Barnewall, Sir Richard, 198

Baron or Barron, Bonaventure, 108

— — Geoffrey, 21, 103, 139, 265, 272, 274-276

Barrington’s Bridge, 150

Barrow river, 18, 31, 32, 80, 128, 168, 201, 203, 204, 280, 349

— Colonel, 349

Barry, Colonel Garret, 3, 22, 23, 26, 47, 48

— — John, 138, 162

— Sir James, 369

— Captain William, 92

— Robert, titular Bishop of Cork, 238

Barrymore, David, 1st Earl of, 3, 22, 35

— Lady, (Lady Alice Boyle), 93

Bate, George, 192

Battleford Bridge, 120

Bavaria, Irish mission to, 28

Beaumaris, 53, 97, 362, 363

Beaupuis, an ‘Important,’ 99

Beeston, 53

Belfast, 50, 57, 58;

seized by Monro, 59, 118;

surprised by Monck, 173;

‘a small town in Ulster,’ 180, 181, 197, 350

Belgium, Irish envoy to, 28, 76

Bellings, Richard, Secretary of the Irish Confederacy, historian, and opponent of Rinuccini, 19, 25, 49;

his foreign mission, 76, 83, 92, 94, 96, 99-102, 115-117, 128, 131, 136-138, 146, 158, 166, 167;

leaves Ireland, 243, 254

Belturbet, 169, 183, 227, 297

Belvelly, 94, 208

Benburb, O’Neill’s victory at, 117-122, 126, 132, 155, 173

Bennet’s Bridge, 218

Bentivoglio, Cardinal, 76

Beresford, Colonel, 228

Bermuda, 345

Bertie, Captain, 9

Bingham, Sir Henry, 6

Birr, 17, 169, 248

Biscay, Irish mission to, 28

Blackwater river, in Ulster, 118, 120

— river, in Munster, 51, 91, 93, 209, 268, 315, 317

Blair Athol, 63

Blake, Admiral Robert, 183, 188, 203, 208, 209, 279

— Sir Richard, 160, 245

— Sir Valentine, 11, 19

Blaney, Lord, 64;

Lady, 24

Blarney, 94, 322

Bodley, Sir Josiah, 80

Bolton, Sir Richard, Lord Chancellor, 29, 214

Bond, Captain, 365

Borlase, Sir John, Lord Justice, chaps. xxi.-xxiii. passim

Borrisoleigh, 169

Borris, or Burris, in Carlow, 33

— in Ossory, 17

Bourke, Miles and Theobald: see Mayo

— or de Burgo, Archbishop of Tuam: see Burgo

— Colonel John, 26, 43, 44

— Hugh, Franciscan, 79

— Sir John, 125

Boyle, 45, 96, 155

— family, 209;

see Cork, Broghill, Dungarvan, and Kinalmeaky

— Francis, 370

— Richard, Archbishop of Tuam, 5

— Michael, afterwards Primate, 90, 164, 213, 225

Boyne river, 45, 147, 192, 280, 315

Bradshaw, John, the regicide, 195

Braintree woods, 24

Bray, 187, 251

[Pg 375]Brentford, 189

Brereton, Sir William, 53

Bridges, Colonel, 367

Bright, Captain, 81

Bristol, 55, 83, 162, 367

— Lord, (Digby), 65

Briver, Francis, Mayor of Waterford, 4, 5

Brockett, Colonel, 74

Broghill, Roger Boyle Lord, afterwards Earl of Orrery, 2, 3, 13, 70, 73, 90-93;

relieves Youghal, 94, 151, 165, 169, 202, 203, 208, 209, 220;

victory at Macroom, 222-224;

victory near Kanturk, 267-269, 291, 322, 328, 352, 354, 355, 366;

helps the Restoration and becomes Earl of Orrery, 369-371

Brooke, Captain, 43

Brosna river, 248

Brown, Geoffrey, 50, 64, 112, 129, 162, 251, 255, 257, 283

Brownlow, Sir William, 24

Brussels, 251, 253, 255, 369

Buchanan, Mr., 6

Buckingham, Duchess of, 18

Bullingdon Green, 192

Bunratty, 12, 115-117, 135, 150

Burgo, de, or Bourke, John, Bishop of Clonfert, afterwards titular Archbishop of Tuam, 39, 124, 129, 172, 177, 232, 257, 282

Burke, Edmund, 7

— Thomas, 46

— William, 250

— Walter, 7

Burren, 276

Burris: see Borris

Bury, William, of Grantham, 343, 358, 369

Butler: see Ormonde, Mountgarret, Dunboyne, Cahir, Ikerrin

— Edmund, Mountgarret’s son, 5, 29, 200

— John, Mountgarret’s brother, 59

— Richard, Ormonde’s brother, 4

— Sir Walter, 218, 219

— Count Walter, 20

Byrne, Edward and Luke, 310

Byron, John, 1st Lord, 53, 54, 186, 187, 240

— Sir Robert, 54

— Colonel, 150

Caen, 243

Cahir, 152, 161, 214, 215

— Lord (Butler), 2

Cahore, 203

Caledon, 120;

see Kinard

Callan, 19, 161, 215

Cambridge, 356

Campbell, Sir Duncan, of Auchinbreck, 118

— clan, 63, 64

Canice, Saint, 155

Cannes, 99

Cantire, 64

Cantwell Castle, 219

Cappagh, 116

Cappoquin, 90, 91, 150, 207, 209, 215

Capron, Major Ralph, 81

Cardenas, Don Alonzo de, 303

Carlingford, 62

Carlisle, 16

Carlow, 17, 31, 33, 51, 141, 149, 234, 235, 293

Carmelites, 171, 172, 176, 177

Carrickfergus (Knockfergus), 14, 15, 23, 57-59, 118;

surprised by Monck, 173, 197, 209, 210, 236, 270, 305, 341, 350, 351

Carrick in Donegal, 287

— on Shannon (Carrigdrumrusk), 96

— on Suir, 1, 127, 161, 204-206, 214, 234

Carrickmacross, 295

Carrigadrohid, 266, 267

Carrigaholt, 223, 276

Carrowreagh, 40

Carte, Thomas, 144, 229, 240, 251, 309

Cashel, 124, 127, 128, 152, 157, 164, 215, 224, 255, 300

Castlebar, 6

Castleblayney, 296

Castle Connell, 248, 261, 272

Castle Coote, 51

Castledermot, 137, 217, 364

Castle Grace, 150

Castle Hacket, 7

Castlehaven, 38, 209

— James Touchet, 3rd Earl of, 18, 29, 34, 48, 57;

his expedition to Ulster, 59, 60, 72, 82;

his campaign in Munster, 90-94, 127, 128, 182, 199, 205, 207, 216;

commands in Leinster, 217, 218, 221, 231, 233, 234;

at Killaloe, 261, 273;

leaves Ireland, 285;

his memoirs, 286

Castlejordan, 156

Castlelyons, 91, 92, 268

Castlemaine, 291

Castlemartin, 48, 216

[Pg 376]Castlemartyr, 92

Catalonia, 303

Cathcart, Captain, 229

Caulfield, Lord, 126, 305;

Lady, 24

Cavan, 33, 45, 59, 121, 183, 197

Chaplin, Andrew, 12

Charlemont, 21, 22, 24, 45, 60, 174, 197, 228, 230;

taken by Coote, 236, 305, 306

Charles II. repudiates the Irish, 239

Charles IV., Duke of Lorraine, his schemes concerning Ireland, 249-259, 280, 283, 287-289, 298

Cheshire, 362

Chester, 47, 107, 110, 111, 113

Chevreuse, Duchess of, 249, 253, 256

Chichester, Colonel Arthur, 15, 57, 59

— Sir Arthur (temp. James I.), 302

Christ Church, Oxford, 55, 65

Chudleigh, Captain Thomas, 291, 292

Cistercians, 15

Clandeboye, James Hamilton, 2nd Viscount, afterwards Earl of Clanbrassil, 209, 341

Clanricarde, Ulick de Burgh, 5th Earl and afterwards Marquis of, 5, 7-10, 19, 30;

his unique position, 34, 35, 38-44, 47, 50, 51, 107, 126, 142, 169, 172, 207, 232, 233;

Deputy for Ormonde, 243, 248, 249, 253-256;

rejects the Lorraine proposals, 257-259, 262, 278, 281, 283, 286, 287;

submits and goes to England, 288-290

Clare, 10-12, 40, 66, 115, 169, 217, 231

— Castle, 11, 12, 41, 269, 276-278

— Island, 298

Claregalway, 43, 44

Clarendon, Edward Hyde, 1st Earl of, 20, 30, 52, 53, 65, 143, 188, 192, 239, 253, 258, 259, 303, 304, 338, 360

Clares, Poor, 9

Clark, Captain, 7, 284

Clarke, Colonel, 321

Claverhouse, 58

Cleere, Morrice, 345

Cliffe, 220

Clifford, 262

Clogheen, 214

Clogher, 129, 170

Cloghleagh, 48

Clogrennan, 17

Clohamon, 31

Clonakilty, 13, 37

Clonbrock, 40

Clonee, 156

Clones, 45, 183

Clonfert, 129, 220, 238

Clonmacnoise, 210, 211, 226, 250

Clonmel, 1, 4, 35, 90, 123, 124;

Supreme Council there, 142, 145, 146, 154, 158, 206;

besieged by Cromwell, 220-223, 234, 247, 273, 274, 305

Clonroad, 269

Clotworthy, Sir John, afterwards Viscount Massereene, 25, 132

Cloughoughter, 197, 300, 301, 306

Cloyne, 92, 162

Coalisland, 305

Cole, Sir William, 16, 57, 58, 179

Colepepper, John, Lord, 65

Coleraine, 17, 51, 58, 118, 120

Colkitto, 62

Colooney (Coote), Lord, 96

Comber, 209

Comerford, Patrick, titular Bishop of Waterford, 245

Condé, Henry, Prince of, 99

— Louis, Prince of, the Great, 286

Cong, 278

Conna, 92

Connall, 288

Conway, Edward, 2nd Viscount, 15, 23

— Colonel, 149

Cook, John, regicide and judge, 244, 305

Cooke, Colonel, Governor of Wexford, 215

Cooper, Colonel Thomas, Governor of Carrickfergus, 364, 365

Coote, Sir Charles, the elder, 6, 17-19

Coote, Sir Charles, the younger, afterwards Earl of Mountrath, President of Connaught from 1645, 8, 10, 41, 65, 67, 68, 151, 173, 174, 179, 182, 183, 197, 209, 210, 227-231, 236, 248, 261, 262, 266, 278, 282, 283, 311, 335, 359, 364-368;