London: Longmans & Co.
Edwd. Weller, lith.
The Queen blames Russell.
Tyrone generally suspected.
Sir Edward Moore of Mellifont, who was on friendly terms with Tyrone, was employed to patch up a truce, and war was deferred until the new year. In the meantime Russell had to bear as best he might the Queen’s severe blame for letting the Earl go, in spite of direct private orders from her. The reasons which he gave were indeed very inconclusive, and it is plain that Tyrone had known how to profit boldly by the moment of weakness which in Ireland has always attended every change of governors in old times, and every vicissitude of party in our own. But opinions were still divided as to Tyrone’s real intentions. Some professed to believe that his animosity was only against Fitzwilliam and Bagenal, but others, if we may judge by the sequel, were less optimistic or better informed. Tyrone’s brother had contributed to the disaster at Enniskillen, and neither he nor the O’Neills who served under him would have acted against the chief’s wish. There was plenty of Spanish gold circulating in Tyrone, and powder was being made there with imported sulphur. In Roman Catholic circles there were great hopes of what the Earl would do, but some feared that he sought an earthly rather than a heavenly kingdom. It was more certain that he had enormously increased his force, and that he was daily enlarging his power over the neighbouring chiefs. He had obtained leave to import a great quantity of lead by way of roofing his house at Dungannon, and that was now available to make bullets. It is difficult to say exactly when Tyrone’s correspondence with Spain began, but some great movement was clearly impending. Jesuits and seminary priests swarmed throughout Ireland, and in any city or town, says one Protestant writer, ‘there is not an Irishwoman nor merchant’s wife throughout the kingdom but refuseth to come to the church, save that in Dublin a few women, under twenty in all, are not quite fallen from us.’[233]
The Wicklow Highlanders, 1595.
Death of Walter Reagh.
When the Christmas festivities were over, during which the Earl of Kildare tilted at the ring, Russell went into the Wicklow mountains and returned on the third day. Feagh MacHugh was driven from Ballinacor and the house garrisoned, O’Byrne himself, with his wife and the notorious bastard Geraldine, Walter Reagh, being proclaimed traitors. Some heads were brought in, but after a few days Walter Reagh’s brother, Gerald, was out with his followers and burned the village of Crumlin, not three miles from St. James’s gate. The lead was stripped from the church, and carried off to make bullets. The Lord Deputy appeared in Thomas Street, had the gate opened, and sent horse in pursuit, but the mischief was already done. As such insolence could not be allowed to pass, another journey was immediately undertaken, and a camp was formed at Ballinacor. A fort was built, and there was no difficulty in getting a hundred labourers from among the O’Byrnes. But Feagh had plenty of sympathisers. In one place a girl warned six kernes of the approach of soldiers; in another a bag of bullets was found newly cast. Heads came in fast, but straggling foragers from Russell’s camp were sometimes cut off. Ormonde came up from Kilkenny with a large force, and it became evident that Walter Reagh’s career was near its end. One of his brothers was taken by the Kavanaghs, the Gerald who burned Crumlin was killed, and he himself was wounded in attacking the house of Sir Piers Fitzjames Fitzgerald, who was sheriff of Kildare and Ormonde’s kinsman. His leg being almost broken by the blow of a hammer, he was carried by his followers to a cave, and there attended by a native leech, ‘who went every second day to the woods to gather herbs.’ With the help of this leech Walter’s first cousin, Dermot MacPhelim Reagh, betrayed him to Sir Henry Harrington, and promised also to give up Feagh MacHugh himself. Another O’Byrne, Murrogh MacTeig Oge, is also mentioned as being in the plot. Walter Reagh was brought to Dublin, examined, and hanged alive in chains for twenty-four hours, ‘as a notable example of justice.’ This was Russell’s opinion, but it must be evident that such barbarity could have no real effect, and in fact the Wicklow rebels were soon as strong as ever.[234]
Feagh MacHugh O’Byrne.