A street procession.
‘I myself,’ says an eye-witness, ‘saw in Cork on Good Friday a procession wherein priests and friars came out of Christ’s Church with the mayor and aldermen, and best of citizens going along the streets from gate to gate all singing, and about forty young men counterfeiting to whip themselves. I must needs say counterfeiting because I saw them (although bare-footed and bare-legged), yet their breeches and doublets were upon them, and over that again fair white sheets, everyone having a counterfeit whip in his hand—I say a counterfeit whip because they are made of little white sticks, everyone having four or five strings of soft white leather neither twisted nor knotted—and always as their chief priest ended some verses which he sung in Latin these counterfeits would answer miserere mei, and therewith lay about their shoulders, sides, and backs with those counterfeit whips; but I never saw one drop of blood drawn, therefore their superstition is far worse than the Spaniards’, who do use such whipping upon their bare skin, that the blood doth follow in abundance, which they do in a blind zeal, and yet it is far better than those counterfeits did.’[10]
The citizens arm themselves,
And bombard Shandon.
Cork was then a walled town, but being commanded by high ground can never have been strong. Outside the south gate and bridge and not far from where the Passage railway station now stands Carew had begun to build a fort with the double object of overawing the town and of intercepting a foreign enemy. After the battle of Kinsale the work had been discontinued, and no guns were mounted. The north gate was commanded by Shandon Castle, which was in safe hands. The east and west sides of the city were bounded by the river, which ran among marshy islands. The approach from the open sea was partly protected by a fort on Haulbowline Island, at the point where the Lee begins finally to widen out into the great harbour, and the seditious citizens had visions of destroying this stronghold, which the recorder pronounced useless and hurtful to the corporation. Inside the town and near the north gate was an old tower known as Skiddy’s Castle, used as a magazine for ammunition and provisions. The citizens refused to allow stores to be carried out to the soldiers and at the same time obliged them to remain outside. One alleged grievance was that two guns belonging to the corporation were detained at Haulbowline, and Thornton against Boyle’s advice exchanged them for two in the town which belonged to the King. Lieutenant Murrough was placed in charge of Skiddy’s Castle, every Englishman’s house was searched for powder, ‘a priest being forward in each of these several searches,’ and the inmates expected a general massacre. Sir George Thornton left the town, Lady Carew took refuge in Shandon, and Lord Thomond’s company was sent for. Wilmot arrived with his men when the disturbances had lasted for more than a week, but the townsmen would not listen to reason, and began to demolish Carew’s unfinished fort. The recorder admitted that he had instigated this act of violence. Wilmot took forcible possession of the work, but forbade firing into the town on pain of death. The inhabitants then broke out into open war, sent round shot through the Bishop’s palace where the Commissioners lodged, and killed a clergyman who was walking past. They severely cannonaded Shandon, but, as Lady Carew reported, ‘never did any harm to wall or creature in it,’ and did not frighten her in the least.
On May 5 Thornton brought up a piece of Spanish artillery from Haulbowline, and when three or four shots had pierced houses inside the walls, a truce was made. Five days later Mountjoy arrived.[11]
Violent proceedings of the citizens.
The question of a legal toleration for the Roman Catholics and of municipal freedom for the town had been carefully mixed up together, and the possession of all Government stores by the citizens made the rising troublesome for the moment if not actually formidable. The chief commissary, Mr. Allen Apsley, was the mayor’s prisoner from April 28 to May 10, and his evidence fortunately exists. First there was an attempt to get the troops out of the neighbourhood by refusing provisions which were undoubtedly the King’s property. At last it was agreed that the stores should be removed by water to Kinsale, but the opportunity was taken to extort an extravagant freight, and when the vessel was laden she was not allowed to leave the quay. After Wilmot’s arrival on April 20 or 21, it was pretended that he wished to get possession of the town by treachery, and the mayor said he was ‘as good a man and as good a gentleman as Sir Charles Wilmot, if the King would but knight him, and give him 200 men in pay, and the like idle comparisons.’ Four days later this valiant doge had guns mounted on the gates, and the provisions and powder were disembarked again. The mayor first tried to make Apsley swear to answer all his questions, and on his refusal confined him to his own house. Two days later the recorder put him into the common gaol, and bail was refused. There seems to have been an attempt to make out that Apsley had committed treason by helping Wilmot to get possession of the stores, but of this even there was no proof.[12]
Cork garrisoned by Mountjoy.
Meade acquitted by a jury.