Many of the scattered settlers in Munster were murdered about this time, and it was upon the property of Englishmen only that the MacSheehys and other robbers maintained themselves. In Tipperary, says the Chief Justice of Munster, there was ‘a school of thieving of horses and cows where boys from every Munster county, some the bastard sons of the best of the country,’ were trained in this patriotic exercise. The master and usher and seven of their pupils were tried and hanged. Care was taken that Protestant clergymen should not go scathless. One James, parson of Kilcornan near Pallaskenry, was visited by a party of swordsmen, but they were under protection and he unsuspectingly offered them refreshments. Nevertheless they murdered poor James, wounded three other Englishmen, and burned down the house; the leader swearing upon his target that he would never again seek protection, nor ‘leave any Englishman’s house unburned nor himself alive.’ The same spirit was shown in the inland parts of Leinster, where Owen MacRory O’More was specially protected by Russell’s order; but this did not prevent him from making a perfectly unprovoked attack upon Stradbally. Alexander Cosby, whose father had been slain at Glenmalure and who was himself married to a Sidney, sallied out with his two sons and the kerne under his orders. A fight took place on the bridge and the Irish were driven off, but Cosby and his eldest son fell. Dorcas Sidney (‘for she would never allow herself to be called Cosby’) and her daughter-in-law watched the fight out of a window and saw their husbands killed. In southern Leinster the death of Walter Reagh had not quite destroyed the old Geraldine leaven, and some of the Butlers were also engaged, greatly to Ormonde’s indignation. Whatever Tyrone’s own ideas were about religion, it is quite evident that out of his own district he was regarded as the leader of a crusade. The new English in Ireland were Protestants, and the instinctive horror of the natives for settlers whose notions about land were irreconcilable with their own was sedulously encouraged by priests and friars.[260]
The soldiers are disorderly and oppressive,
Elizabeth persisted in believing Tyrone’s professions, only because she saw no way of forcibly subduing ‘him whom she had raised from the dust.’ She was ‘greedy,’ said her secretary, ‘of that honourable course’; but Russell, who advocated the reduction of Tyrone, forgot to say how it was to be done. It was more clear to her that there was much oppression and extortion, and that her poor subjects in Ireland had a right to complain. The intolerable tyranny of sheriffs, provost-marshals, and other officers was the constant complaint from Ulster and Connaught; but those provinces were confessedly in a state of armed peace at best, and much might be said upon both sides. In Leinster and Munster the charges were more definite, and are more easily understood. They may be summed up in a declaration on the part of the inhabitants of the Pale that ‘the course of ranging and extorting is become so common and gainful as that many soldiers (as is said) have no other entertainment for their captains; and many that are not soldiers, pretending to be of some company or other, have, in like outrageous sort, ranged up and down the country, spoiling and robbing the subjects as if they were rebels. And most certain it is that the rebels themselves, pretending to be soldiers, and knowing how gainful the course is, have often played the like parts.’
owing to irregular payment.
Real soldiers were so terrible that the poor people had no heart to resist even sham ones, and so the country went from bad to worse. The very fruit trees were cut down to feed barrack fires, and houses, if the wretched inmates deserted them to avoid their oppressors, were demolished for the same purpose. Very severe orders were issued, rape and theft being made capital offences, and these were not suffered to remain a dead letter; but the next Viceroy did not find that matters had been much improved. In Munster also there was plenty of military violence, and even lawyers, while complaining that the gown was quite subordinate to the sword, could not but acknowledge that sheriffs and gaolers were as bad as the soldiers. It is easy to see, and it is proved by a cloud of witnesses, that most of these horrors were caused by irregular payment of the troops, nor does Burghley himself leave us in any doubt. ‘I cannot,’ he says, ‘forbear to express the grief I have to think of the dangerous estate of her Majesty’s army in Ireland, where all the treasure sent in August is expended.’ Besides pensioners and supernumeraries, there were 7,000 regular soldiers, for which the monthly charge was 8,560l. sterling, which necessary reinforcements would soon increase to 10,422l. ‘for which the treasurer hath never a penny in Ireland.’ And it was certain that the increase would be progressive. ‘What danger this may be I do tremble to utter, considering they will force the country with all manner of oppressions, and thereby the multitude of the Queen’s loyal subjects in the English Pale tempted to rebel.’[261]
Feagh MacHugh is hunted down,
killed,
and beheaded.
In November, 1595, Feagh MacHugh came to Dublin and submitted on his knees. The Queen was inclined to pardon him, but his terms were not at first considered reasonable. If confirmed in his chiefry, he professed himself ready to restrain his people, to attend assizes like other gentlemen, and to kneel before the Queen herself, ‘which I more desire than anything in the world.’ Even this rough mountaineer, who pointed out to Elizabeth that his property was not worth confiscating, had caught the prevailing tone of flattery. Nevertheless Feagh remained in close alliance with Tyrone, and in September 1596 he struck a blow which undid most of Russell’s work in Leinster. Elizabeth had in the end agreed to pardon him, with his wife, sons, and followers, to confirm him in his chiefry by patent, and even to restore Ballinacor, which she found a very expensive possession. Eight days after this was decided at Greenwich, Feagh wrote to Tyrone, offering to trouble the English well, and begging for a company of good shot; and a month later he surprised Ballinacor. After this there was no further talk of pardon, and Russell pursued the old chief to the death. A new fort was built at Rathdrum, and Captain Lee, who was perhaps anxious to efface the memory of his ill-success with Tyrone, scoured the mountains during the winter. Cattle by the score and heads by the dozen were collected, and the end may as well be told at once. One Sunday morning in the following May Feagh was forced into a cave, ‘where one Milborne, sergeant to Captain Lee, first lighted on him, and the fury of our soldiers was so great as he could not be brought away alive; thereupon the said sergeant cut off Feagh’s head with his own sword and presented his head to my lord, which with his carcase was brought to Dublin... the people all the way met my lord with great joy and gladness, and bestowed many blessings on him for performing so good a deed, and delivering them from their long oppressions.’ The head and quarters of this formidable marauder were exhibited upon Dublin Castle, and a sympathiser says the sight pierced his soul with anguish. Four months after, one Lane brought what purported to be the head to Essex, who sent him to Cecil for his reward. Cecil said head-money had already been paid in Ireland, and Lane gave the now worthless trophy to a lad to bury, who stuck it in a tree in Enfield chase, where it was found by two boys looking for their cattle. The Four Masters say Feagh was ‘treacherously betrayed by his relatives,’ for the O’Byrnes of the elder branch had never acquiesced in the dominion of the Gaval-Rannall. Thus one by one did the chiefs of tribal Ireland devour each other.[262]