Ireland under the Stuarts and During the Interregnum, Vol. 1 (of 3), 1603-1642

Ninety-nine persons sailed in the vessel which carried Tyrone, Tyrconnel, and Maguire. Among the O’Neills were Lady Tyrone, her three sons Hugh, John, and Brian, and Art Oge, the son of Tyrone’s brother Cormac. Among the O’Donnells were Tyrconnel’s brother Caffar, with his wife Rose O’Dogherty, and his sister Nuala, who had left her husband Neill Garv. What, the Irish annalists ask, might not the young in this distinguished company have achieved if they had been allowed to grow up in Ireland? ‘Woe to the heart that meditated, woe to the mind that conceived, woe to the council that decided the project of their setting out on this voyage without knowing whether they should ever return to their native principalities or patrimonies to the end of the world.’

Tyrone’s brother, Sir Cormac MacBaron, waited until they were clear gone and then hurried to Slane so as to be Chichester’s first informant. ‘Withal,’ says Davies, ‘he was an earnest suitor to have the custodiam of his brother’s country, which perhaps might be to his brother’s use by agreement betwixt them; and therefore, for this and other causes of suspicion, the constable of the Castle of Dublin has the custodiam of him.’ Chichester returned to Dublin at once, and made arrangements for intercepting the fugitives should they put into Galway or into any of the Munster harbours. A cruiser on the Scotch coast was ordered to be on the look out, and the Earl of Argyle was warned by letter. Bath kept well off the coast, and, after sighting Croagh Patrick mountain, endeavoured to run for Corunna. After thirteen days tossing he despaired of reaching Spain and tried to go to Croisic in Brittany. Losing their bearings, the fugitives were driven up channel nearly to the Straits of Dover, but escaped the English cruisers and landed at Quillebœuf in Normandy after being twenty-one days at sea. They had but little provisions and were much crowded, but in no pressing want of money, for Tyrone had taken up his rents in advance. Boats were hired to convey the women and children to Rouen, while Tyrone rode with seventeen companions to meet the Governor of Normandy at Lisieux. Both parties were hospitably treated and supplied with wine and provisions by the country people. An application for their extradition was of course refused by Henry IV., but they were not allowed to stay in France nor to visit Paris. A month after leaving Lough Swilly they left Rouen, and made their way to Douai by Amiens and Arras.[35]

At Douai the Earls were met by Tyrone’s son Henry, who commanded the Irish regiment, and by all the captains serving under him. Among those captains was Tyrone’s nephew, Owen MacArt O’Neill, afterwards so famous as Owen Roe, and Thomas Preston, scarcely less famous as his colleague, rival, and at last enemy. The Irish students in the seminary feasted them and greeted them in Latin or Greek odes and orations. Florence Conry and Eugene MacMahon, titular archbishops of Tuam and Dublin, met them also. At Tournai the whole population with the archbishop at their head came out to meet them. They then went on to Hal, where they were invited by Spinola and many of his officers. The captor of Ostend lent his carriage to take them to the Archduke at Binche, where they were received with much honour, and he afterwards entertained them at dinner in Brussels. Tyrone occupied Spinola’s own chair, with the nuncio and Tyrconnel on his right hand, the Duke of Aumale, the Duke of Ossuna, and the Marquis himself being on his left. The Earls left the city immediately afterwards and withdrew to Louvain, where they remained until the month of February. Edmondes remonstrated with the President Richardot about the favour shown to rebels against his sovereign, but that wily diplomatist gave him very little satisfaction. The greater part of the Irish who came over with Tyrone or who had since repaired to him were provided for by the creation of two new companies in Henry O’Neill’s regiment, but the Earls were not allowed to go to Spain, and when they left Louvain in February 1608 they passed through Lorraine to avoid French territory, and so by Switzerland into Italy. According to information received by the English Privy Council, the Netherlanders were glad to be rid of them, they having ‘left so good a memory of their barbarous life and drunkenness where they were.’[36]

Though there is no reason to suppose that any treachery was intended, Tyrone can hardly be blamed for mistrusting the English Government and avoiding London. He told Sir Anthony Standen at Rome that it was ‘better to be poor there than rich in a prison in England.’ And yet this may have only been a pretext, for his eldest son Henry told Edmondes that he believed the principal grievances to be religion, the denial of his jurisdiction over minor chiefs in Ulster, and the supposed intention of erecting a presidency in that province. Many obscure rumours preceded his flight. In February 1607 George St. Lawrence or Howth gave evidence of a plot to surprise Dublin Castle and to seek aid from Spain; but he incriminated no one except Art MacRory MacMahon and Shane MacPhilip O’Reilly. He was probably a relation of Sir Christopher St. Lawrence, who became twenty-second Baron of Howth in the following May, but it does not appear how far they acted in unison. The new Lord was a brave soldier, who had fought for Queen Elizabeth at Kinsale and elsewhere, but was both unscrupulous and indiscreet. In 1599, according to Camden, he had offered, should Essex desire it, to murder Lord Grey de Wilton and Sir Robert Cecil. Under Mountjoy he had done good service in command of a company, but the gradual reduction of the forces after Tyrone’s submission left him unemployed, and he was very needy. Chichester wished to continue him in pay, or at least to give him a small pension, so that he might be saved from the necessity of seeking mercenary service abroad. Nothing was done, and he went to Brussels in the autumn of 1606, but had little success there. Chichester suggested that the Archduke’s mind should be poisoned against him, so that he might come home discontented and thus dissuade other Irish gentlemen from seeking their bread in the Spanish service. That Howth was known to be a Protestant, even though he might occasionally hear a mass, was probably quite enough to prevent the Archduke from employing him. Among the Irish residents there was his uncle the historian, Richard Stanihurst, and another priest named Cusack, also related to him, and from them he heard enough to make him return to London and to give information to Salisbury. By the latter’s advice probably he returned to the Netherlands, where he met Florence Conry, the head of the Irish Franciscans, who told him that it was decided to make a descent on Ireland ‘within twenty days after the peace betwixt the King our master and the King of Spain should be broken.’ Spinola or some other great captain was to command the expedition, Waterford and Galway to be the places of disembarkation. Conry himself was to go to Ireland to sound the chief people, and it appears from the evidence of a Franciscan that he was actually expected to arrive in the summer of 1607, but that he did not go there. Howth advised a descent near Dublin, and according to his own account he made this suggestion so as to ensure failure. He said there was a large sum ready for Tyrconnel’s use at Brussels, and this was probably the very money afterwards given to Maguire for the purchase of a ship. This information was supplemented by that of Lord Delvin, and there was doubtless a strong case against Tyrconnel. Against Tyrone there was nothing but hearsay rumours as to his being involved with the others. Tyrconnel divulged to Delvin a plan for seizing Dublin Castle with the Lord Deputy and Council in it: ‘out of them,’ he said, ‘I shall have my lands and countries as I desire it’—that is, as they had been held in Hugh Roe’s time. His general discontent and his debts were quite enough to make him fly from Ireland, and this disposition would be hastened by the consciousness that he had been talking treason, and perhaps by the knowledge that his words had been repeated. Spanish aid could not be hoped for unless there was a breach between England and Spain; and of that there was no likelihood. Tyrone must have understood this perfectly well, but Chichester had long realised that he would always be discontented at having lost the title of O’Neill and the tyrannical jurisdiction exercised by his predecessors. Perhaps he really believed there was an intention to arrest him in London. Some sympathy may be felt for a man who had lived into an age that knew him not, but the position which he sought to occupy could not possibly be maintained.[37]

On May 18, 1607, an anonymous paper had been left at the door of the Dublin council chamber, the writer of which professed his knowledge of a plot to kill Chichester and others. According to this informer the murders were to be followed by the seizure of the Castle and the surprise of the small scattered garrisons. If James still refused to grant religious toleration, the Spaniards were to be called in. Howth was not in Ireland, but Chichester noticed that the anonymous paper was very like his communications to Salisbury. He arrived in Ireland in June, when he was at once subjected to frequent and close examinations. Chichester was at first very little disposed to believe him, but the sudden departure of the Earls went far to give the impression that he had been telling the truth. ‘The Earl of Tyrone,’ said the Deputy when announcing the flight, ‘came to me oftentimes upon sundry artificial occasions, as now it appears, and, by all his discourses, seemed to intend nothing more than the preparation for his journey into England against the time appointed, only he showed a discontent, and professed to be much displeased with his fortune, in two respects: the one, for that he conceived he had dealt, in some sort, unworthily with me, as he said, to appeal from hence unto his Majesty and your lordships in the cause between Sir Donald O’Cahan and him; the other because that notwithstanding he held himself much bound unto his Majesty, that so graciously would vouchsafe to hear, and finally to determine the same, yet that it much grieved him to be called upon so suddenly, when, as what with the strictness of time and his present poverty, he was not able to furnish himself as became him for such a journey and for such a presence. In all things else he seemed very moderate and reasonable, albeit he never gave over to be a general solicitor in all causes concerning his country and people, how criminal soever. But now I find that he has been much abused by some that have cunningly terrified and diverted him from coming to his Majesty, which, considering his nature, I hardly believe, or else he had within him a thousand witnesses testifying that he was as deeply engaged in those secret treasons as any of the rest whom we knew or suspected.’ There is here nothing to show that any treachery was intended to Tyrone in England, but there was a report in Scotland that he would never be allowed to return into Ireland. And so the matter must rest. Tyrone was now old, his nerves were not what they had been, and if he believed that he would be imprisoned in London, that does not prove that any such thing was intended.[38]

Lord Howth was not the only magnate of the Pale who was concerned in the intrigues which led to the flight of Tyrone and the plantation of Ulster. Richard Nugent, tenth Baron of Delvin, a young man of twenty-three, was son to the Delvin who wrote an Irish grammar for Queen Elizabeth and nephew to William Nugent who had been in rebellion against her. He had been knighted by Mountjoy in Christchurch, Dublin, at the installation of Rory O’Donnell as Earl of Tyrconnel, and had a patent for lands in Longford which the O’Farrells had asked him to accept on the supposition that they were forfeited to the Crown. It turned out that there had been no forfeiture, and he was forced to surrender, Salisbury remarking that the O’Farrells were as good subjects as either he or his father had been. The business had cost him 3,000l., and he was naturally very angry. His mother was an Earl of Kildare’s daughter, and Sir Oliver St. John told Salisbury that he was ‘composed of the malice of the Nugents and the pride of the Geraldines.’ He became involved in Howth’s schemes, and confessed that he had ‘put buzzes into the Earl of Tyrone’s head,’ telling him that he had few friends at Court and that the King suspected his loyalty. For his own part he was willing to join in an attack on the Castle, provided a Spanish army landed, but he would not agree to the murder of the Lord Deputy, ‘for he hath ever been my good friend.’ Delvin was lodged in the Castle, but there was evidently no intention of dealing harshly with him, for he was allowed the society of his secretary, Alexander Aylmer, a good old name in the Pale, and of a servant called Evers. Aylmer and Evers with some help from others managed to smuggle in a rope thirty-five yards long, though the constable had been warned that an escape was probable, and the young lord let himself down the wall and fled to his castle of Cloughoughter on a lake in Cavan. The constable, whose name was Eccleston, was afterwards acquitted by a jury, but lost his place. From Cloughoughter Delvin wrote to Chichester pleading his youth and his misfortune in being duped by Howth. He had run away only to save his estate, which would surely have been confiscated if he had been carried to England. Chichester was willing to believe him, and offered to accept his submission if he would surrender within five days and throw himself on the King’s mercy. His wife and his mother, who was supposed to have brought him up badly, were restrained at a private house in Dublin, but were afterwards allowed to go for a visit fourteen miles from Dublin.[39]

Being pressed by the troops Delvin stole out of Cloughoughter with two companions, leaving his infant son to be captured and taken to Dublin. He had married Jane Plunkett, and her brother Luke, afterwards created Earl of Fingal, made matters worse by reporting that Delvin had expressed a wish to kill Salisbury, a charge which was stoutly denied. Howth was mixed up with this as with all the other intrigues. Delvin was ‘enforced as a wood kerne in mantle and trowsers to shift for himself’ in the mountains, and was doubtless miserable enough. After wandering about for more than four months he appeared suddenly one day in the Council chamber, and submitted unconditionally with many expressions of repentance. Salisbury had already pardoned any offence against himself, and the King was no less merciful. Delvin was sent to England a prisoner, but the charge of complicity in O’Dogherty’s conspiracy was probably not believed, for he received a pardon under the Great Seal of Ireland. He enjoyed a fair measure of favour at Court, though he became a champion of the Recusants, and in 1621 he was created Earl of Westmeath.[40]

When Hugh Roe O’Donnell died at Valladolid in 1602 he was attended by friar Florence Conry, whom he recommended to Philip III. Conry, who was Tyrone’s emissary in Spain, became provincial of the Irish Franciscans and later Archbishop of Tuam, but never ventured to visit his diocese. He passed and repassed from Madrid to Brussels and employed Owen Magrath, who acted as vice-provincial, to communicate with his friends in Ireland.

Magrath brought eighty-one gold pieces to Lady Tyrconnel and tried to persuade her to follow her husband abroad. Other priests gave the same advice, but the lady, who had been Lady Bridget Fitzgerald, had not the least idea of identifying herself with rebellion. She was unwilling to forswear the society of the clergy, but ready to give Chichester any help in her power. She knew nothing of her husband’s intention to return as an invader, but ‘prayed God to send him a fair death before he undergo so wicked an enterprise as to rebel against his prince.’ Magrath was mixed up with Howth and Delvin; but Chichester, though he succeeded in arresting the friar, could get little from him. He was tried for high treason and actually found guilty, mainly upon Delvin’s evidence, who swore that he had disclosed to him a conspiracy for a Spanish descent on Ireland. Philip indeed would not show himself, ‘but the Pope and Archduke will; at which the King of Spain will wink, and perchance give some assistance under hand.’ Chichester saw that Magrath was old and not very clever, and advised that he should be allowed to live in Ulster, for Delvin was repentant and would be glad to impart anything that he learned from him. James readily pardoned Magrath, the English Council shrewdly remarking that it was more important that Delvin should have given evidence against a friar ‘than to take the life of one where there are so many.’ Lady Tyrconnel was sent to England and received a pension, and James is said to have wondered that her husband could leave so fair a face behind him. She afterwards married the first Lord Kingsland; her daughter by Tyrconnel had a curiously adventurous career.[41]

James thought it necessary to publish a declaration for the enlightenment of foreign countries as to the true reason of the Earls’ departure, not in respect of any worth or value in those men’s persons, being base and rude in their original. They had no rights by lineal descent, but were preferred by Queen Elizabeth for reasons of State, and fled because inwardly conscious of their own guilt. The King gave his word that there was no intention of proceeding against them on account of religion. Their object was to oppress his subjects, and the less said about their religion the better, ‘such being their condition and profession to think murder no fault, marriage of no use, nor any man to be esteemed valiant that did not glory in rapine and oppression.’ They had laboured to extirpate the English race in Ireland and could not deny their correspondence with foreign princes ‘by divers instruments as well priests as others.’ James assured himself that his declaration would ‘disperse and discredit all such untruths as these contemptible creatures, so full of infidelity and ingratitude, shall disgorge against us and our just and moderate proceedings, and shall procure unto them no better usage than they would should be offered to any such pack of rebels born their subjects and bound unto them in so many and such great obligations.’[42]

While at Louvain, and no doubt by way of answer to the royal declaration, both Tyrone and Tyrconnel caused expositions of their grievances to be drawn up, and these documents are still preserved in London, but do not appear to have been ever transmitted to the Irish Government. No rejoinder to them or criticism of them is known to exist, and they must be taken for what they are worth as ex parte statements. Religion is placed in the forefront of both manifestoes, in general terms by Tyrconnel, but more specifically by Tyrone, the proclamation of July 1605 having been promulgated by authority in his manor of Dungannon.

But the case for the Earls mainly consists in an enumeration of their difficulties with the Irish Government officials, and it may well be believed that many underlings exercised their powers harshly and corruptly. What appears most clearly is that the local domination of an O’Neill or an O’Donnell, even though they wore earls’ coronets, was inconsistent with the modern spirit. They found the position of subjects intolerable. By their flight they hastened the progress of events, but their stay in Ireland could not very long have retarded it.[43]

Tyrone and the rest left Louvain on February 17, the Spanish authorities having with much difficulty and delay found money enough to speed the parting guests. Edmondes wrote to Charles of Lorraine reminding him of his near relationship to the King of England and also of the fact that ‘these fugitives and rebels had found the door shut in Spain, where the King would not admit them out of respect and friendship to King James.’ The Duke let them pass through his country, and afterwards appeared to have been greatly impressed in their favour, as such a champion of the Roman Church would naturally be. Their expenses were paid by him while in Lorraine, and he entertained them sumptuously in his palace at Nancy. They travelled by Basel and Lucerne to the St. Gothard, and one of O’Donnell’s sumpter horses fell over the Devil’s Bridge and was lost, with a large sum of money. The monks received them at the hospice, and on their descent into Italy they were well received at Faido, Bellinzona, and Como. Fuentes, the Governor of Milan, went out to meet them with his staff. They were lodged at the hostelry of the Three Kings and handsomely entertained there at the governor’s expense. Cornwallis at Madrid and Wotton at Venice complained loudly, and received soft answers. Salisbury told Cornwallis to make little of the fugitive Earls and to describe them as mere earthworms; and the ambassador bettered the instruction by saying that he esteemed them and all their company as so many fleas. The Spanish officials replied that Fuentes was generally hospitable to strangers, but that the King’s government had no idea of countenancing the exiles.

Wotton easily persuaded the anti-Romanist and lately excommunicated Doge to exclude the Irish party from Venetian territory, and a person in his confidence followed Tyrone privately wherever he went. The exiles received 1,000 crowns from Fuentes, of which they complained as much below their expectations. They were well received at Parma and Reggio, and reached papal territory at Bologna, where Cardinal Barberini, afterwards Urban VIII., was then governor. From Ancona they made a pilgrimage to Loretto, and travelling by Foligno, Assisi and Narni, they came in sight of Rome on April 29. Several cardinals, in much state and with great retinues, went out to meet them at the Milvian bridge. One coach, which, according to Wotton’s informant, was borrowed by Parsons, contained Englishmen, and others came to see Tyrone inside the city. The Salviati palace in the Borgo was assigned to the exiles as a residence by Paul V. After this Tyrone sometimes showed himself in a coach with Tyrconnel and Peter Lombard the titular Primate of Ireland, who had never seen his see.[44]

‘I know not,’ said Chichester, ‘what aid or supportation the fugitives shall receive from the Spaniard or Archduke, but the kind entertainment they have received compared with the multitude of pensions given to base and discontented men of this nation, makes them there and their associates and well wishers here to give out largely, and all wise and good subjects to conceive the worst. I am many ways assured that Tyrone and Tyrconnel will return if they live, albeit they should have no other assistance nor supportation than a quantity of money, arms, and munition, with which they will be sufficiently enabled to kindle such a fire here (where so many hearts and actors affect and attend alteration) as will take up much time with expense of men and treasure to quench it.’ These rumours continued while Tyrone lived, and after his death his son was expected. Exiles are generally sanguine, and the friars and Jesuits kept up constant communication with Spain and the Netherlands; but the decadent Spanish monarchy could never make an attempt on Ireland or give any serious trouble until England was at war with herself.[45]

CHAPTER IV
REBELLION OF O’DOGHERTY, 1608

The wild territory of Inishowen between Lough Foyle and Lough Swilly had been for ages in possession of the O’Dogherty clan, who were, however, not quite independent either of O’Neill or O’Donnell. Sir John O’Dogherty, who held Inishowen by patent, died in December 1600, and Hugh Roe O’Donnell set up his brother Phelim in his stead, to the exclusion of his son Cahir, whom he kept in his own power. Cahir’s foster-brethren, the MacDavitts, appealed to Sir Henry Docwra, and he persuaded O’Donnell to release the young man, whom the Government then adopted as chief. After the accession of James, though not with Devonshire’s good will, Sir Cahir, who had been knighted for good service in the field, was confirmed by the King in his father’s possessions. The island of Inch was leased to another, but after Devonshire’s death the King agreed to restore it. Tyrconnel complained bitterly that Inishowen was excepted from his grant, and Tyrone grumbled at losing an annual rent of sixty cows out of it, ‘never before your Majesty’s reign brought to any question.’ Docwra was Sir Cahir’s steady friend, but Devonshire’s extreme leaning to Tyrone’s side made his position intolerable, and he left Ireland in 1606, having sold his land at Derry to George Paulet, the Marquis of Winchester’s son. He was allowed to compound with Paulet for his company of foot and the vice-provostship of Derry, and this was done with Devonshire’s approval on the ground that there was ‘no longer use for a man of war in that place.’ The King’s letter describes Paulet as ‘of good sufficiency and of service in the wars,’ but Chichester was not of that opinion. He was established at Derry at the beginning of 1607, and was soon at daggers drawn, not only with the neighbouring Irish chiefs, but with the Protestant bishop Montgomery. At the same time he neglected, notwithstanding Chichester’s repeated warnings, to post sentries or to keep any regular look-out. His ill-temper made him disliked by his own men, and they despised him for his evident incompetence. After the flight of the Earls Sir Cahir O’Dogherty was one of the commissioners especially appointed for the government of Tyrone, Donegal, and Armagh, Paulet and Bishop Montgomery being among his colleagues. His ambition at this time was a place at Court. He excited suspicion by landing a few armed men upon Tory island, but the inhabitants seem to have consented. Sir Richard Hansard, who gave the first information, did not think that O’Dogherty meant much harm, for he never had more than seventy men, armed only those of Inishowen, and refused recruits from other districts. But Paulet took a view of the case which made his want of preparation inexcusable. He went with Captain Hart, the governor of Culmore, and others to O’Dogherty’s castle of Burt on Lough Swilly, where Lady O’Dogherty, Lord Gormanston’s sister, was living. He told O’Dogherty afterwards that he only went on a friendly visit, but to Chichester he said that he meant to seize the castle had he not found it well defended.

O’Dogherty remonstrated in a temperate letter and subscribed himself ‘your loving friend,’ but Paulet retorted that he was a traitor and that he left him to a provost-marshal and a halter. Three weeks later O’Dogherty went to Dublin, and protested his loyalty; but he was on good terms with O’Cahan, whose actions were also suspicious, and Chichester hardly knew what to think. Sir Cahir was at last suffered to depart after entering into a recognisance, himself in 1,000l. with Lord Gormanston and Sir Thomas Fitzwilliam in 500 marks each, to appear at all times upon twenty days’ notice in writing, and not to leave Ireland without licence before Easter 1609. About the close of the year 1607, Sir Cahir was foreman of the Grand Jury who found a true bill for treason against Tyrone, Tyrconnel, and their chief adherents.[46]

In February 1608 O’Dogherty wrote to the Prince of Wales protesting his fidelity, and asking to be made one of the gentlemen of his privy chamber. On April 18, the very day on which he plunged into rebellion, an order was sent by the English Government to restore the island of Inch, and all other lands withheld from Sir Cahir, excepting only the fort of Culmore, which stood at the mouth of the Foyle, and thirty acres of land with it.

The Four Masters say, and this has often been repeated, that Paulet struck O’Dogherty, and that the insult drove him into rebellion. Paulet was certainly abusive, but a blow is not anywhere mentioned in the State correspondence, though no Englishman then in Ireland had anything to say in favour of the unfortunate governor, nor by Docwra, who could scarcely be ignorant of so remarkable a fact. O’Sullivan Bere, who published his history at Lisbon in 1621, says Paulet threatened to have O’Dogherty hanged, but he had evidently not heard of any blow. The Four Masters wrote in Donegal, between 1632 and 1636, but it is not certain that any of them were in Ireland in 1608; at all events there was time for the growth of a traditional addition to the facts. Whatever may have been the immediate cause of his outbreak, O’Dogherty behaved with so much treachery as to throw doubt upon all his recent professions. He invited Captain Hart, the governor of Culmore fort, to visit him at Buncrana. He complained that Lady O’Dogherty, who was of the Pale and had English tastes, suffered from the want of society, and therefore Mrs. Hart was pressed to accompany her husband. After dinner O’Dogherty took Hart into an upper room under pretence of privacy, spoke of Paulet’s harsh conduct, and told his guest that he must die or surrender Culmore. Being disarmed, and told to choose, Hart refused to betray his trust. Lady O’Dogherty then entered the room in tears, upbraided her husband and his accomplices, and called heaven to witness that she was no party to the plot. O’Dogherty threatened to throw both her and his prisoner over the walls, and told Mrs. Hart that she must devise some means of seizing Culmore or die with her husband, her children, and the whole garrison. He swore upon a book that not one person should suffer if the fort were yielded quietly. At last she was frightened into going with O’Dogherty to Culmore and calling out some of the guard, saying that her husband lay hard by with a broken arm. Once outside the gate they were seized by the Irish, who rushed in and took the fort, surprising the rest of the garrison in their beds. Hart and his family were ferried over the Foyle and told to go to Coleraine, the soldiers escaping to Lifford during the confusion of that night.[47]

O’Dogherty marched through the night and reached Derry at two o’clock in the morning of Tuesday, April 19, with scarcely a hundred men, not all of whom were armed. They divided at the bog-side, Sir Cahir attacking the lower forts where the storehouses were, and Phelim Reagh undertaking the governor’s house on the high ground. Paulet escaped into Ensign Corbet’s house, and there a short stand was made. Corbet fought with and wounded Phelim, but was struck down from behind. His wife killed the man who had dealt the fatal blow, and was herself slain. Paulet fell by the hand of Owen O’Dogherty. Lieutenant Gordon jumped from his bed, seized a rapier and dagger and ran out naked, killing two of the assailants and calling upon the soldiers to fight for their lives. He also was overpowered and killed. Lieutenant Baker gathered a few men together and attempted to retake the lower fort, but was ill supported, and retired into Sheriff Babington’s house. That house and the bishop’s were held till noon, but O’Dogherty’s force was constantly increasing, a piece of cannon was brought up from Culmore, and Baker, who had no provisions or ammunition, thought it best to make terms. A written undertaking was given that every man should depart with his sword and clothes, and the women with their clothes. Lady Paulet and Mrs. Susan Montgomery, the bishop’s wife, remained prisoners with O’Dogherty. According to O’Sullivan all Protestants were slaughtered, and all Catholics safely dismissed, but the total number killed did not exceed ten on either side. Lieutenant Baker, to use the language of Sir Josiah Bodley, was in ‘great grace and reputation,’ for he alone survived of those who had distinguished themselves on the fatal morning. He settled in Ulster, and his namesake, perhaps his descendant, was governor in that later siege which has made the name of Derry for ever famous.[48]

Before leaving Derry Phelim Reagh, who thought the place untenable by a small force, deliberately burned Bishop Montgomery’s library in sight of his men. O’Sullivan says there were ‘2,000 heretical books,’ and that the bishop vainly offered a hundred pounds ransom for his collection. Having set fire to the buildings and to two corn ships which lay near, Phelim removed to Culmore, taking some guns with him in two boats and throwing the rest into the sea. Doe Castle on Sheep Haven was also surprised, and Captain Henry Vaughan taken prisoner. Captain John Vaughan abandoned Dunalong and fled with his men to Lifford, and a few Scotch settlers at Strabane did the same. There O’Dogherty’s successes ended. Sir Richard Hansard, who never ceased to take the precautions which Paulet neglected, easily maintained himself at Lifford, and help was not long in coming. At the beginning of May Chichester sent all his available forces to Ulster. The officers in charge were Sir Richard Wingfield, Marshal of the army since 1600, and Sir Oliver Lambert, then more hated and feared than any English soldier. Sir Thomas Ridgeway, an energetic man who had succeeded Carey as vice-treasurer, accompanied them without Chichester’s knowledge. After inspecting the garrisons about Lough Neagh and the Blackwater, and warning them to be on their guard, Wingfield and his colleagues reached Derry on May 20. They found earthworks, walls and chimneys not much damaged, but everything that would burn had been reduced to ashes, except the wooden roof of the cathedral. Ridgeway was in doubt whether they had found this roof too high to set fire to, or whether they spared it out of respect to St. Columba, ‘the patron of that place, and whose name they use as their word of privity and distinction in all their wicked and treacherous attempts.’ According to the terms of the recognisance in which he was bound, Chichester’s letter summoning O’Dogherty to appear before him was publicly read by Ridgeway at ‘the half-burned house of Master Babington’ in Derry, and at Sir Cahir’s own castle of Ellagh not far off. Cabins were run up for the inhabitants of Derry, who had already returned to their homes, and enough cows and sheep to secure them against starvation were driven in from O’Dogherty’s country. Phelim Reagh declared that he would die in defence of Culmore, but thought it more prudent to set the place on fire and to escape by water. The fort was quickly refitted and garrisoned. Parties were sent to scour the country as far as Dunaff and Malin Head, and Inishowen was completely cleared, 2,000 cows, 2,000 or 3,000 sheep and 300 or 400 horses were driven in, and Buncrana was burned ‘as well from anger as for example’s sake.’ Armed resistance there was practically none. O’Dogherty had withdrawn into the territory of the MacSwineys west of Lough Swilly, and thither did Ridgeway and his colleagues pursue him. Even among the woods of Glenveagh he was unable to make any sort of defence, and it was said that he fled thirty-five miles in one march at the approach of the troops. Various plots having been laid for his betrayal, the army returned by Raphoe to Sir Cahir’s principal castle of Burt on Lough Swilly. The garrison were divided in opinion, some thinking that they held the place for the King of Spain and others for O’Dogherty. They had but one life each, they said, which they owed to God; if they surrendered they would either be treated like dogs by the English or hanged by Sir Cahir, and so they might as well do their duty. One Dowding, or Dowling, a native of Drogheda, and presumably more civilised than the Inishowen men, at last proposed a capitulation, involving a jointure for Lady O’Dogherty and some provision of land for the rest. The answer of the English officers, who thought it ‘intolerable strange for a King’s army to make jointures for ladies with the cannon,’ was to place two pieces of artillery in position. The Irish, whose chief leader was a monk, said they would put Mrs. Montgomery in the breach, but no breach was made, and they all surrendered at discretion after the second shot. Mrs. Montgomery and Captain Brookes’ son were, in Ridgeway’s quaint language, ‘returned to their owners.’ Sir Neill Garv O’Donnell and his two brothers, Lady O’Dogherty, her only daughter and her husband’s sister, with their female attendants, were taken on board his Majesty’s ship Tramontana, and Ridgeway went with them to Dublin, partly to avoid weakening Wingfield’s force, and partly because he thought the enforced idleness of a voyage would make the ladies talk freely. Lady O’Dogherty fulfilled his expectation by indulging in ferocious invectives ‘against Neill Garv for drawing her husband into rebellion.’[49]