In Leinster there was no resistance to Tyrconnel’s Government. In Connaught the Protestants were comparatively few, but some found their way to Sligo from adjoining counties. In Munster the Protestants were in a hopeless minority, and a conspiracy to seize Cork was betrayed and ended in nothing, but where Lord Cork and Sir William Petty had left their marks something was attempted. At Bandon, in the neighbourhood of which robberies were openly committed, there was a small garrison under Captain Daniel O’Neill, who had doubtless good reasons for doubting whether he could trust the inhabitants. The corporation had been reformed here as elsewhere, but the oath was generally refused. O’Neill called upon all to give up their arms, but not many obeyed. A few days later Lord Clancarty threatened the town with a stronger force, but the Protestants resolved not to admit him. The garrison were suddenly overpowered in the night or early morning, and a few who resisted were killed. The captured arms enabled the people to man the wall, but the old cannon were neglected and useless. Lord Inchiquin advised them to make the best terms they could, and when General MacCarthy appeared with an army, nothing effectual could be done and the town was soon in his hands. He proposed to hang ten of the ringleaders and to burn the place, but Dr. Brady, the versifier of the Psalms, who had not yet abandoned the doctrine of non-resistance, interceded for his native town. MacCarthy, who was a civilised warrior, agreed to take an indemnity of 1500l. in ready money, full restitution being also made to soldiers who had been stripped of their arms or otherwise injured. Tyrconnel and James blamed the General for giving such easy terms, and some of the Bandonians were afterwards indicted for high treason. Many of the townsmen found their way to Londonderry, and thence to the Boyne. Petty’s settlement at Kenmare had long been threatened by the natives. The Protestants, who were chiefly engaged in the iron works and in fishing, were not one in 500 of the population in those parts, and they began to think of 1641. Petty’s agent was Richard Orpen, who was specially unpopular for his determination in bringing malefactors to justice. Among them was a MacCarthy, who in 1680 had robbed and murdered a smelter in open day, and Owen Sullivan (a loose gentleman), who in the same year had treacherously run Orpen himself through the back on a dark night for seeking to recover a debt. In 1685 Teague a Glauna had murdered a pursuivant for trying to arrest papists in Kerry. In 1686 Daniel MacDermot, with half a score more, had robbed some French Protestant fugitives who had taken refuge in Kenmare River. In 1687 Daniel Croly and seven more Tories attacked Orpen and his brother, who shot three of them. ‘Being made prisoners they lived till they were hanged at the assizes following. The greatest part of all these malefactors were severely prosecuted by Richard Orpen; some of them were hanged, some burnt in the hand, some remained in gaol, and the rest dispersed and fled out of the country.’[189]

Siege of Kenmare.

Though suffering from occasional robberies, the settlers managed to live in tolerable comfort until the new policy was adopted in 1685, after which it became daily harder to get any redress. When the fresh levies began in November 1689, the officers, ‘being persons of broken and desperate fortunes, not able to maintain themselves or their soldiers, were forced to filch and steal black cattle and sheep.’ The thieves appeared in bands, sometimes seventy at a time and well armed, and openly drove away the cattle by scores through the neighbouring glens. The corn was carried off, and by the beginning of January the Kenmare people were reduced to what they had in their houses. They appealed to MacCarthy, who had the chief command in Munster, and to Sir Valentine Brown, who governed Kerry under him; and after a week’s delay they sent back warrants to be executed by the plundered people themselves, which of course they were unable to do. In the meantime six of their houses were sacked. Sir Richard Aldworth of Newmarket was consulted, who said there was nothing for it but to retreat to the nearest garrison, but there were forty miles of mountains between them and Bandon, and they determined to stand on their defence. On the rocky peninsula of Killowen, in the estuary above the present town of Kenmare, Petty had built a house for his agent, 44 feet long by 22 feet wide, and containing four rooms and a garret. Here, under the command of Orpen and of his father-in-law, the Rev. Thomas Palmer, who held Kenmare and other Kerry livings, 42 families congregated numbering 180 persons, of whom 75 were fighting men. They had four blunderbusses and 40 guns of various kinds, besides pistols, swords and pikes, and 170 pounds of powder. Half an acre was enclosed by a bank 14 feet high and 12 feet thick, and wooden cabins were erected of such materials as might be easily pulled down if an assault were threatened. The house stood in the middle, and was strengthened with balconies and flankers. The country people about, who had lived mainly on wages paid by the colonists, made no difficulty about doing the rough work. On the last day of January an association was formed under seal, and all swore on the Gospel to obey Orpen and Palmer until they had orders from the Prince of Orange, ‘in defence of our lives and religion against the enemies of the Protestant Church.’ Stolen goods may be sweet, but in the long run they tend to poverty. The wild people who had driven off the cattle took no steps to till the ground, but lived on the plunder. People who had been used to potatoes or oatmeal with meat perhaps four times a year, now ‘gorged themselves with flesh, half-raw, half-roasted, sometimes half-boiled, half-rotten and stinking for want of salt, sometimes moving towards the boiler by the assistance of the wriggling crawlers, that lately before received their birth from the same piece of flesh.’[190]

Kenmare capitulates.

The garrison escape to England.

Having provided a temporary place of refuge, Orpen thought he might make an effort to execute Sir Valentine Brown’s warrants. He sallied forth by night with a strong party and captured six of the robbers with stolen property in their possession. The goods were retained at Killowen, but the men were handed over to the authorities and soon released ‘upon insolvent bail.’ On February 25, the day appointed for disarming the Protestants, Captain Phelim MacCarthy arrived at one o’clock in the morning hoping to surprise the little garrison, but good watch was kept. At daylight there was a parley, and the Irish captain produced a letter from Sir Valentine Brown authorising the seizure of their horses and arms and promising to make good any condition made on surrender; otherwise he was empowered to use fire and sword. The garrison stood on their guard, but sent out a spy to gather news, who returned in four days saying that the Protestants of Cork were disarmed, that Colonel Henry Boyle had surrendered Castlemartyr, and that Bandon was in little better condition. There was no sign of help from England, and Orpen and Palmer, knowing that they could not resist cannon, capitulated on condition that the garrison were not plundered or molested, but suffered to retain their swords, as Sir Valentine had promised, and to leave the country or stay in it, as they thought fit. The house was nevertheless invaded by a mob, and the contents carried away. The garrison, with the women and children, embarked on two vessels of about 30 tons each, where they were ‘packed like fish one upon the other.’ They were not allowed to sail until Orpen had given a bond in 5000l. that they would all go to Cork and surrender to the governor there. He resolved to ignore the bond, which would be valueless if William succeeded, and sailed at once for England. The boatmen could not lay a course, but the two gentlemen, who knew geography if ignorant of navigation, managed to reach Bristol on March 25, after a full fortnight at sea. They had salt beef, meal, and water enough to support life, but little or no shelter, and they had lost all they possessed. On landing, three died of exposure. Many more had fever, dysentery, and ‘a more than ordinary sort of measles.’ Petty was dead, but on reaching London his widow, now Lady Shelburne, and others, relieved them. Most of the men enlisted in the army intended for the reduction of Ireland.[191]

James arrives in Ireland, 1689.

French officers.

A French ambassador.

Royal progress to Cork.