Great severities.
While Drury was occupied, Maltby, much to Sidney’s satisfaction, had taken up the military command of Connaught. Clanricarde was already a prisoner; O’Connor Roe yielded at the first summons; and there were only the Earl’s two sons to deal with. They were given eight days to consider whether they would submit absolutely or no. When that time had elapsed they asked for further delay, which Maltby granted, partly because his own preparations were not made. The rebels made loyal professions, ‘taking God to witness that they had no intent to do anything more that should purchase her Majesty’s further indignation.’ This was done only to put the Governor off his guard, and a treacherous attack was made on one of his detachments, in which a few men were killed and two officers captured. The rest escaped to the castles of some well-affected gentlemen, and Maltby lost no time in entering the mountains. John Burke’s district was the first attacked. All houses and corn were burned, and every human being the soldiers met was killed. ‘I spared,’ says Maltby, ‘neither old nor young.’ Ulick’s district was then visited, and a strong castle reduced after two days’ sap. ‘I put them to the misericordia of the soldiers, who had lost their lieutenant. They were all slain to the number of twenty-two, all tall men, who were at the murder of the horsemen.’ Another fruitless attempt was then made at negotiation, but Maltby saw the object was to gain time, and Ulick’s followers were treated like John’s. Everything that would burn was burned, both in plain and mountain, and every person met with was killed. Protection for five weeks was afterwards granted that the crops might be sown; how seed was obtained it is not easy to understand. After this tremendous lesson Connaught was quiet, and Maltby was free for a time to practise the Roman theory of government as expounded by Virgil. By Sidney’s order he had a conference with Drury, and they agreed that with a little trouble the two provinces, ‘being ragged countries as we found them,’ might be brought into order. The greatest obstacle was the uncertainty prevailing as to Clanricarde’s fate, and it was evident that John Burke would break out again whenever he had the power. In the meantime strict military discipline was maintained, and Maltby found that his soldiers, who were chiefly Irishmen and but lately open enemies, became nearly as good as a general could desire. ‘Travail, industry, and plain-dealing,’ he said, ‘doth prevail over the people.... He that will not hazard some limbs in these services or that standeth doubtful of everything shall prevail little in this land.... To do good among this rude nation they must be applied well, and plausible dealing doth prevail much in some of them and in others rigour doth no hurt, so as every of them must be used in their conditions. They be a people that do now seek much unto the administration of justice, and do greatly seem to covet it, which God willing they shall not want with the best advice I can give them. They are grown into a great good liking of the Government, and do use more familiarity towards us than they were wont to do, for commonly I do never stay any of them that cometh unto me, be he good or bad, but such of them as are taken by the officers if they be found faulty to cast off the same; and few of them do escape my hands. The rest do very well allow of it.’[346]
Rory Oge O’More, 1571 to 1578.
During his last term of office Sidney had much trouble with Rory Oge O’More, who still claimed the ancient chiefry of Leix. In 1571 and 1572 Rory had been at the head of a band which fluctuated between 80 and 240 swords, and had succeeded in defying all Fitzwilliam’s efforts. Arrangements were made to surround him. Kildare and Ormonde were commissioned to hunt him with all their forces, and the latter delayed a journey to England rather than leave the task unfinished. O’More was brought to make a formal and somewhat humble submission and to give hostages, of which Feagh MacHugh O’Byrne was one; but Fitzwilliam, who knew Ireland too well to be sanguine, was of opinion that the hanging of a pledge or two would not prevent Irishmen from breaking out whenever it happened to suit them. Rory was spoiling the Pale again within four months, and in the spring of 1573 the Lord Deputy pronounced him worse than ever. He submitted again the same year, and a few days afterwards gave important help to Desmond in his escape from Dublin. When that turbulent personage found himself safe in Munster, Rory Oge was one of the outlaws whom he adjured to stand firm. Kildare was also accused of plotting with him, and this charge was never fully cleared up.[347]
Rory Oge submits,
The arrival of Sidney in Ireland was always understood by the Irish as a sign of what modern politicians call vigour, and Rory Oge, among others, thought it wise to make his peace. ‘He came unto me,’ wrote Sidney, ‘on the Earl of Ormonde’s word, and in the cathedral of Kilkenny submitted himself, repenting (as he said) his former faults, and promising hereafter to live in better sort (for worse than he hath been he cannot be), for by him and his the greatest spoil and disorders have been committed upon the Queen’s County and the Pale. I accepted him upon treaty, and trial of amendment till my return.... I have given him warning, and will keep touch with him if I can.’[348]
but soon breaks out again, and burns Naas, 1576.
For a year or more Rory seems to have kept pretty quiet; but the rumour of a Spanish invasion and the exhortations of John Burke were too much for his prudence, and the dispute about the cess laid the Pale unusually open to attack. Allying himself as of old with Connor MacCormac, who stood in the same relation to the remnant of the O’Connors as he himself did to the O’Mores, he was soon at the head of 140 men and boys. On the night of March 3, 1577, Rory and his ally brought their band to Naas, and entered the town, which they found unprepared. Their men had no muskets, but were armed with torches stuck upon long poles, with which, ‘like hags and furies of hell,’ they rushed through the street, setting fire to the low thatched houses on either side; and they were gone again within half an hour. The night was windy, the March weather had dried the thatch, and the whole place was burned to the ground in a few minutes. ‘There were,’ says Sidney, ‘about 500 men’s bodies in the town, manlike enough in appearance, but neither manful nor wakeful, for they confess they were all asleep in their beds after they had filled themselves and surfeited upon Patron Day, which day is celebrated for the most part of the people of this country birth with gluttony and idolatry as far as they dare. They had neither watch nor gate shut; ... the town is open on all sides, and without soldiers, yet how unwilling to bear any charge for their own defence.’ Rory Oge, says Hooker, ‘tarried very little in the town saving that he sat a little while upon the cross in the market-place,’ and feasted his eyes with the flames. None of the townsmen were killed.[349]
Rory captures English officers. Escapes capture, 1577 and 1578.
After this exploit Rory’s force increased rapidly, and he attacked Leighlin Bridge, of which Sir Peter Carew the younger was constable, but which was actually in charge of his famous brother George, who here performed his first noteworthy service. Half the town was already burned when Carew, at the head of only seven horsemen and five musketeers, boldly sallied out against the enemy, who were between 200 and 300. Surprised in the darkness, they fled, but soon recovered, and some of them actually entered the castle. Carew managed to shut the gates, and his assailants, having suffered considerably, departed without doing any further harm. The Devonshire captain lost only two soldiers and one horse, but not a single one of his men escaped unwounded. Soon after this Captain Harrington and Alexander Cosby, son of the Captain of Leix, were taken prisoners, treacherously enough, according to the English accounts, by Rory, and carried about by him in triumph. If Cosby was, as some accounts say, an actor in the Mullaghmast tragedy, he deserved nothing better, but in this kind of warfare it is to be feared that breaches of faith were common enough on both sides. All attempts to catch Rory had hitherto been vain, and Sidney was forced to temporise for the sake of the prisoners. Robert Hartpole, who was used to this kind of service, and who had probably many friends among the country people, brought fifty soldiers to a cabin at the side of a wood, where he heard that the outlaw and his prisoners were to sleep. Finding himself in a trap, Rory tried to kill Harrington by slashing at him with his sword. He fractured his skull, broke his arm, and cut off one of his fingers; but Harrington recovered from these and other injuries. Rory had his shirt cut off by a sword, but managed to creep away between the soldiers’ legs, and reached the covert with a single companion. The cabin was on the very edge of the bush. The prisoners were rescued, and sixteen people, including all the men in the house, were killed. Rory’s wife was also killed, but one woman at least, a sister of Feagh MacHugh, was spared. Connor MacCormac was perhaps not present, for he afterwards made his peace with the Government and received a pension. Letters implicating John Burke and others were found in the house.[350]