Fitzwilliam had confessed to Perrott that he received Ireland from him in peace, and that he should do the Queen good service if he could leave it but half as well. Measured by that standard his success had not been great, for he left the island very much disturbed. Ulster was ‘replenished with more treason than we have known it in former times.’ Bingham had bridled Connaught; but O’Rourke was with O’Donnell, and was a constant source of danger. Feagh MacHugh and his crew were traitorously bent, and the arrival of 3,000 Scots in Donegal was likely to aggravate the general peril. After all the fighting in Fermanagh her Majesty had no stronghold left there except Enniskillen, and that was closely besieged. Sir Henry Duke and Sir Edward Herbert were sent with 600 foot and 46 horse to revictual it, but could not, and Sir Richard Bingham went to help them with 200 foot and 50 horse. Before he could arrive, Maguire and Cormac MacBaron had attacked the relieving force at the ford of Drumane on the Arney river, and routed them completely. The convoy fell into the hands of the Irish, and the place was long known as the ‘ford of biscuits.’ This news met Bingham on his way northwards, and he returned to Dublin. The check was a severe one, and Russell lost no time in taking the field himself. His route was by Mullingar, Athlone, Roscommon, and Boyle, over the Curlews. Lough Arrow and Lough Allen were passed on the right hand and Lough Melvin on the left, the dangers of the march being from bogs and flooded rivers rather than from armed opposition. Enniskillen was relieved for that time, and Dublin was reached on the twenty-second day. The return was by way of Cavan, and the only casualties were from drowning at the passages of the Sillees and the Erne.[232]

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]

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]

No sooner was Walter Reagh dead than Russell set out again for the disturbed districts of Leinster. A camp formed at Money, between Tullow and Shillelagh, was the Lord Deputy’s headquarters for three weeks, and he visited all the country round, finding time for a little hunting and fishing, and receiving heads of prisoners almost daily. Several companies scoured the Wicklow mountains, but never quite succeeded in catching Feagh MacHugh. But his wife, the famous Rice O’Toole, fell into Harrington’s hands, and a Dublin jury found her guilty of treason. The sentence was death by burning, as if she was considered a witch, but the Queen spared her life. The arrival of Sir John Norris required Russell’s presence in Dublin, preparatory to dealing seriously with Tyrone. Sir Henry had already brought rather more than 2,000 of the Brittany veterans, and the news of their coming kept the North quiet for a moment. Garrisons were left to bridle Wicklow, and it was supposed that the fort at Ballinacor could easily hold out. But Feagh MacHugh had now a thorough understanding with Tyrone, who had promised him 1,000 men—400 from himself, 400 from O’Donnell, and 100 each from Maguire and O’Rourke. The MacMahons had also promised a hundred. These were to be maintained for a year, doubtless with some of the Spanish gold which was circulating in Ulster.[235]

We are now entering upon the great Tyrone war, which cost Queen Elizabeth so many men and so much money. The trained troops at her command were very few, and fresh levies were constantly required. From what took place in one county, we may judge of the method pursued all over England, and gain some idea of the drain upon the scanty population of that time. Gilbert, Earl of Shrewsbury, a great figure among the nobility of that day, was Lord Lieutenant of Derbyshire. In March, 1595, he was directed by warrant to make a compulsory levy of 100 men for the Irish service. This was done, and the new company assigned to Captain Nicholas Merriman, the captain and his two subalterns being appointed by the Crown, and not by Lord Shrewsbury, who thought some men were pressed ‘rather for ill will than for any care of the Queen’s service’; nor is the suggestion singular in the correspondence of this period. In the same year Derbyshire had to raise three horsemen for the Irish service, and the cost was compulsorily divided among the gentlemen and freeholders. John Manners of Haddon was assessed at 53s. 4d., while some had to pay only six shillings. In 1596, fifty more men were raised for Ireland. Directions are sometimes given that the arms and uniforms should be bought of particular persons. Captain Merriman, who was a skilled veteran, commended the armour supplied by Mr. William Grosvenor, of Bellport, who was a friend of Shrewsbury, and a ‘follower of the Earl of Essex.’ In April, 1597, twenty-three men were pressed for Ireland; four of them ran away, and the arms of those who did not were so bad that the officers had to buy others from the armourers at Chester. In 1598, 100 men were first levied, and after the disaster at Blackwater fifty more were wanted. These levies were not completed till the spring of 1599; but in 1600 the demands began again. One hundred and fifty were required, but some ran away, and some were inefficient, and there was a further call for fifteen men before the year was out. John Manners was also ordered to provide one light horseman, with a cuirass and staff, at his own charge, and the county was forced to have carpenters, smiths, and bricklayers among the recruits. In 1601, three horsemen and 110 footmen were raised, and there was a further levy of horse ordered as soon as it was known that Spaniards had landed at Kinsale. About 70 gentlemen and ladies are mentioned as specially contributory to this last call, and again John Manners had to supply a gelding with a good saddle, and a good man to fill it, ‘furnished with a good cuirass and a caske, a northern staff, a good long pistol, a good sword and dagger, and a horseman’s coat of good cloth.’

Clothing for foot soldiers was contracted for at 40s. a head. After the victory at Kinsale, we read of no more levies in Derbyshire, but the drain had been severe. Of foot-soldiers alone, some 450 were raised in that single county, from 1595 to 1601, and we may be sure that most of them never returned. Naturally the service was very unpopular; ‘Better be hanged at home than die like dogs in Ireland’ had become a Cheshire proverb. Sometimes it was necessary to ‘set sufficient watch in all the highways, footpaths, and bye-lanes, for the apprehending of such soldiers as shall offer to escape before God sends a wind.’ And it is not difficult to see how Shakespeare made the study for his immortal picture of the ragged regiment with whom Falstaff refused to march through Coventry. ‘You appointed twelve shires,’ said the Mayor of Bristol, ‘to send men here for Cork. We protest unto your lordships, excepting of some two or three shires, there was never man beheld such strange creatures brought to any muster. They are most of them either old, lame, diseased, boys, or common Rodys; few of them have any clothes, small, weak, starved bodies, taken up in fair, market, and highway, to supply the place of better men kept at home. If there be any of them better than the rest we find they have been set forth for malice.... We have done what we could to put able men into silly creatures’ places, but in such sort that they cannot start nor run away.’[236]

But if the Irish service was odious and terrible to the poor conscript, adventurous young gentlemen sought therein the means of retrieving their fortunes and of getting out of scrapes. ‘There is,’ says one such, ‘nothing under the elements permanent. Yesternight I lived with such delight in my bosom, concealing it, that I was for this voyage, that the overmuch heat is now cooled by a storm, and my prayer must be to send better times and fortunes than always to live a poor base justice, recreating myself in sending rogues to the gallows.’ The veterans who had fought and bled in many lands were not anxious to have their places filled by lads, who were brave enough doubtless, but who had everything to learn. Complaints upon this subject are frequent, but no one has told his story better than Captain Bostock, who, having served for eighteen years by sea and land, thought he was entitled to some reward. Bostock was at the siege of Antwerp in 1582, and remained long in the Netherlands, wherever hard knocks were going. Then he commanded a ship commissioned by Henry of Navarre. Afterwards he was in the Netherlands again, under Russell and Vere, and with Lord Willoughby at the siege of Bergen. Then he commanded her Majesty’s pinnace ‘Merlin’ in Portugal, returned to Holland, and served under Essex all the time that he was in France. His next venture was in command of a man-of-war to the West Indies. Then there was more fighting in the Netherlands, and under Fitzwilliam and Russell in Ireland. In the voyage to the Azores Bostock was captain of a man-of-war, and ‘fought with a carrack every day for twenty days.’ Then he served under Essex at sea and in Ireland, and at the end of it all found that he had spent 1,000l. of his patrimony, and was still without recognised rank. ‘A soldier that is no captain,’ he says, ‘is more to be esteemed than a captain that is no soldier; the one is made in an hour, and the other not in many years, of both which kinds I know many.’[237]

Russell had asked for a good officer to help him, but, to his great disgust, the Government sent him a general with absolute authority. A commission, indeed, was to be issued by the Lord Deputy and Council, and for this Russell expressed his thanks; but the terms of it were dictated by the Queen, who fixed upon Sir John Norris as the fittest man for the place. Norris was still Lord President of Munster, but the administration of that province was left to his brother, and he was put over all the forces in Ireland, with almost unlimited authority, for the purpose of pacifying Ulster. His promises of pardon or protection were to be performed as a matter of course by the Lord Deputy and Council. The fame of Norris was deservedly great, and it seems to have been thought, as it has sometimes been thought in our own time, that the mere terror of his name would save the cost of an army. But he was under no such illusion himself, and complained before he left England that Russell was hostile to him. He was in bad health too, and declared that but for that he would post back from Bristol and refute the detractors who began to buzz as soon as his back was turned. The servile herd of courtiers well knew that abuse of Sir John Norris sounded sweet in the Earl of Essex’s ears. The favourite had interfered in the appointment of officers, and was told that the general had accused him of passing over the best men. This Norris denied, declaring that he had always tried to be the Earl’s friend, and wondering why the latter would always treat him as an enemy.[238]

Norris landed at Waterford on May 4, after a bad passage, which brought on the ague to which he was subject. He found the season so late that there was no likelihood of much grass before June, and in any case he was unable to ride for some days. Russell civilly begged that he would take his time, and he did not reach Dublin until four weeks after leaving Bristol. While riding near the city his horse fell with him, and this accident brought on a fresh attack of ague. But he saw enough in a very few days to make him realise that the struggle before him was very different from any that had preceded it. The rebels were more in number and better armed than of old, and they had plenty of ammunition. Spanish gold found its way from Tyrone to some gentlemen of the Pale, and something like a panic prevailed. Two thousand good soldiers had hesitated to march ten miles by a tolerable road from Newry to Dundalk, and had clamoured to be sent by water. The like had never been heard of before, and both gentlemen and townsmen for the first time refused even to pass the doors of a church.[239]

While Russell waited at Dublin for Norris, Maguire regained possession of Enniskillen. The garrison had been reduced by sickness to fourteen, who were promised their lives; but the English account says the promise was not kept. Monaghan was also threatened, and 1,400 foot and 200 horse were sent to Newry. With this force Bagenal succeeded in victualling the place, but Tyrone greatly harassed the army on its return, killing over thirty and wounding over a hundred; ten barrels of powder were expended and many horses lost. It was said that the Irish engaged were more than 5,000, and that twice or even three times that number were in the neighbourhood. The road between Dundalk and Newry was then broken up by Tyrone’s orders. Russell reported that the powder left in the Master of the Ordnance’s hands was less than had been burned in this one day’s work.[240]

Sir Richard Bingham had lost no opportunity of warning the Government how necessary it was to seize the passage between Ulster and Connaught; he had made preparations at Sligo for the occupation of Ballyshannon. His plans were frustrated by one of those unexpected acts of treachery in which Irish history abounds. The governor of Sligo, under him, was his cousin, George Bingham the younger, who seems to have depended almost entirely on Irish troops, and especially upon his ensign, Ulick Burke, Clanricarde’s cousin-german and son of that ‘Redmond of the besoms,’ as he was called from his sweeping raids, who had been the actual murderer of Sir John Shamrock. George Bingham had lately made a descent upon Tory Island, which he plundered, and also upon MacSwiney Fanad’s village at Rathmullen, where he sacked the Carmelite monastery. Ulick Burke was left in charge at Sligo, and it seems that he or his Irish followers were offended at not receiving their due portion of the spoil. Sir Richard Bingham admits that they were badly paid, and that all the mischief came from that. At all events George Bingham and eight Englishmen with him were butchered by the treacherous ensign without a word of warning. Ulick had been twice saved from hanging by Bingham, but he gave the signal by stabbing his preserver with his own hand. Sligo, with its guns and stores, was handed over to O’Donnell, and Ulick Burke became his constable. ‘This,’ says Sir Richard, ‘is the worst news ever happened in Connaught in my time.’[241]

A week after the disaster at Sligo, Norris started for Newry, whither Russell followed him five days later with 2,200 foot and 550 horse. Tyrone and his adherents were proclaimed traitors at Dundalk, both in English and Irish. The causeway through the Moyry pass had been broken up, but no resistance was offered, and a band of pioneers soon made it practicable. In the presence of the Lord-Deputy Norris disclaimed all power and responsibility, but there was no outward breach between them. Russell reached the Blackwater without serious fighting, and pitched his camp close to Armagh. The church was fortified and made capable of sheltering 200 men, and Tyrone spent his time in burning the houses round about and in razing his own castle of Dungannon. He had intended to make a great stronghold, fortified ‘by the device of a Spaniard that he had with him, but in the end employed those masons that were entertained for builders up, for pullers down of that his house, and that in so great a haste, as the same overnight mustering very stately and high in the sight of all our army, the next day by noon it was so low that it could scarcely be discerned.’ The arrival of cannon at Newry had already taught Tyrone that he could not defend any castle against a regular army, and he afterwards constantly acted upon that principle. Besides making Armagh tenable, Russell again relieved Monaghan. There was constant skirmishing, which cost a good many men, but nothing like a general battle. On his return to Newry the Lord-Deputy very early fell into an ambuscade, but no one was actually hurt except O’Hanlon, who carried the Queen’s colours. The Moyry pass was again found unoccupied, and a council of war was held at Dundalk. Russell announced that he had fulfilled her Majesty’s order, and would now leave Ulster matters to the general, according to his commission, while Bingham should attend to Connaught. Norris said he would do his best; but if his invasion of Tyrone were frustrated by want of provisions, as the Lord-Deputy’s had been, he trusted it should be without imputation to him. ‘And so,’ says the chronicler, ‘every man returned well wearied towards his own dwelling that had any.’[242]

During the expedition Russell wrote to say that he agreed better with Norris than he had at first thought possible. But the general looked at everything upon the darkest side. He accused the Lord Deputy of stretching his conscience to injure him, of detaining letters so as to deprive him of the means of answering them, of making his commission less ample than the Queen had ordered; and he declared, though without actually naming Russell, that his letters to Cecil and Cecil’s to him were certainly opened. He maintained that every obstacle was thrown in his way, and that his private fortune was spent without increase of honour after so many years of service. The means provided were utterly inadequate, since even Russell thought more than 3,000 men necessary for the Ulster war, and scarcely half the number were actually available. ‘I wish,’ he says, ‘it had pleased God to appoint me to follow some other more grateful profession.’[243]

It was not without many misgivings that the proclamation against Tyrone was allowed to issue, Burghley dreaming almost to the last moment of a pacification by Ormonde’s means. But Ormonde himself had already made up his mind that Tyrone could not be trusted at all, since he had broken his last promises. Nevertheless he went to Dublin, and on arriving there found that the humour had changed. No commission came for him, and without one he could attempt nothing. His anxiety was lest the Queen should think him lukewarm, whereas his greatest wish, though far beyond his power, was that Tyrone’s and every other traitor’s head should be at her Majesty’s disposal. He rejoiced at the appointment of Sir John Norris, and wished the Queen had many such to serve her. ‘When Tyrone is proclaimed,’ he said, ‘I wish head-money may be promised for him, as I did for the Earl of Desmond, and pardon to be given to such others of the North as will serve against him.’[244]

Bingham came to Dublin to confer with Russell and Norris, and the result was to show clearly how much the work to be done exceeded the available means. The Governor of Connaught said no quiet could be expected in his province until the Ulster rebels were stopped at the Erne. Three whole counties were in revolt, and Clanricarde’s near kinsmen had been engaged in the Sligo massacre, although he himself was loyal. Russell agreed with Bingham, but the majority of the Council were for stumbling along in the old rut. Bingham went back to Athlone, expecting nothing but disaster, and Norris went to Newry with the certain knowledge that he had not men enough to effect anything. First he tried what negotiation would do, and Tyrone sent in a signed paper which he called a submission. He was heartily sorry for his offences, and humbly besought pardon first for himself and all the inhabitants of Tyrone, but also for all his adherents who would give the same assurances, ‘for that since the time I was proclaimed there have passed an oath between us to hold one course.’ This submission was rejected, as it would have practically acknowledged Tyrone’s local supremacy, and of this rejection the Queen quite approved.

Armagh was victualled without much trouble by Norris in person, and the army then returned to Newry for more provisions. Bagenal succeeded in surprising 2,000 of the enemy’s cows, and Armagh was again reached without fighting. Some days were spent in fortifying and in making arrangements for a winter garrison, but Norris failed to bring on a general engagement. Tyrone kept to his vantage-ground, but made a great effort to annoy the English at a little pass which cannot be far from Markethill. The baggage was sent on in front and escaped, but the rearguard had to fight their best. There were Scots with Tyrone whose arrows proved very effective, and the Irish horse were much more active than the English. Norris himself was shot in the arm and side, and his horse was hit in four places. His brother Thomas was shot through the thigh, and Captain Wingfield through the elbow. ‘I have a lady’s hurt,’ said Sir John; ‘I pray, brother, make the place good if you love me, and I will new horse myself and return presently; and I pray charge home.’ Two other officers were killed with ten men, and about thirty men were wounded. It does not appear that Tyrone’s losses were much greater, and it was evident that nothing of moment could be done with the forces at hand. Norris told Russell that he ought to send him every man he could scrape together, regular or irregular, leaving pioneers and carriers to follow as they might; and that, if this were not done, he would not be responsible for anything. He sent his brother Henry straight to England, complaining that he had but 150 draught horses, when formerly ten times that number came out of the Pale, and that he was not properly supported in any way. And yet Russell may have done his best. He did detach Thomond with five companies and 145 horse to Newry, besides sending Secretary Fenton to help the wounded general in administrative work. But to get supplies from the unwilling Catholics of the Pale was beyond his power. The gentry had promised to muster 1,000 foot and 300 horse at Kells for the defence of the border, but a month after the trysting-day only one-third of that number had arrived.[245]

At the moment of this first fight with Tyrone in his character of proclaimed traitor, old Tirlogh Luineach died. He had already resigned the chiefry, but it now suited his successor to drop the mask, and he went at once to Tullahogue to be invested. And yet he was quite ready to renounce the name of O’Neill four months later, though objecting to take an oath on the subject. The annalists say he had been appointed heir ‘ten years before at the Parliament held in Dublin in the name of Queen Elizabeth.’ But it is, of course, quite untrue that Tyrone was made tanist by Act of Parliament, and the Four Masters themselves record that Tirlogh had resigned in his favour more than two years before. In 1587 it had been intended to make Tirlogh Earl of Omagh, and thus to perpetuate the division of Tyrone. The old chief had always realised, in a vague way, that an O’Neill could not stand alone, and had listened without enthusiasm to the bards who called upon him to imitate the legendary heroes of his race, and to make himself monarch of Ireland in spite of the English. The real effect of his death was to make Tyrone chief of Ulster in the popular estimation, as he had long been in real power. He also saw that the Queen would be too strong for him unless he could make foreign alliances, and he strove to excite sympathy abroad by appearing as the head of a Catholic confederacy.[246]

Nothing, said the Queen, would more become this base traitor whom she had raised from the dust, than his ‘public confessing what he knows of any Spanish practices, and his abjuration of any manner of hearkening or combining with any foreigners—a course fit in his offers to be made vulgar—that in Spain and abroad the hopes of such attempts may be extinguished.’ Tyrone protested that he never corresponded with Spain before August 20; but this can hardly be true, for in a letter to Don Carlos, written little more than a month after that date, he complained that the King had returned no answer to frequent previous letters. He begged Philip to send 3,000 soldiers, at whose approach all the heretics would disappear, and the King Catholic be recognised as the sole sovereign of Ireland. Elizabeth shrank from the cost of war and from the suffering which it would bring, and Norris was ordered to negotiate. A general without an army is not usually the most successful of diplomatists, and Sir John had no belief in the work. There were, he said, but two courses open. One was to give Tyrone a free pardon, mainly on condition of his abjuring Spain and the Pope, by which means these potentates would be alienated from him. If there was to be fighting, then he thought it best to leave Connaught alone, and confine himself to Ulster. He demanded a separate treasurer, as Ormonde had in the Desmond times, 5,000l. a month for six months, and 2,000l. more for fortifications, and power to spend the whole as he liked. With this, but not with less, he thought he could post a garrison at Lough Foyle, for like every other competent soldier he maintained that Tyrone could be bridled only by permanent fortresses. The course which seemed easiest and cheapest was taken, and the negotiations began without sincerity on Tyrone’s part, and with a presentiment of failure on that of Norris, who thought force the only remedy.[247]

Norris did not himself meet Tyrone, but sent two captains, St. Leger and Warren, who made a truce to last until January 1, and for one month longer should the Lord Deputy desire it. Peace was to be kept on both sides, but none of the points at issue were decided. Tyrone and O’Donnell made separate submissions, upon which great stress was laid; but as they were both in correspondence with Spain, it is clear that their chief object was to gain time. Tyrone further declared his readiness to renounce the title of O’Neill, protesting that he had assumed it only to prevent anybody else from doing so. Upon these terms, since no better were to be had, the Queen was inclined to pardon the chief rebels; but this only encouraged them to make fresh demands. Burghley in the meantime was advising that money should be sent into Ireland, where he foresaw nothing but trouble. ‘I see,’ he said, ‘a manifest disjunction between the Lord Deputy and Sir John Norris. Sir John was too bold to command the companies in the English Pale for Waterford without assenting of the Deputy, for out of Munster he hath no sole authority. I fear continually evil disasters.’[248]

O’Donnell had in the meantime made himself master of a great part of Connaught. Bingham failed in a determined attempt to retake Sligo, and his nephew, Captain Martin, was killed by an Irish dart, which pierced the joint of his breastplate as his arm was raised to strike. Russell went to Galway, and was received with full military honours; and at first the rebellious Burkes seemed inclined to come to him. But O’Donnell entered the province, and persuaded them to content themselves with a written submission, accompanied by a statement of their complaints against Bingham. They accepted a MacWilliam at the northern chief’s hands, in the person of Theobald Burke, a young man who had just distinguished himself by surprising the castle of Belleek in Mayo, and inflicting great loss on a relieving force led by Bingham’s brother John; and by Christmas there was no county in Connaught, except Clare, in which the inhabitants, or great numbers of them, had not united with O’Donnell.[249]

If a peace could be made on anything like honourable terms, Russell was authorised to act without further orders from home, and to pardon every rebel who would come in and submit himself. Wallop and Gardiner, both of whom were thought rather friendly to Tyrone, were sent as commissioners to Dundalk; but, protection or no protection, Tyrone refused to enter that town. The commissioners were fain to waive the point, and a meeting of five persons on each side was held a mile outside. Swords only were worn, and the greatest distrust was shown. ‘The forces of either side stood a quarter of a mile distant from them, and while they parleyed on horseback two horsemen of the commissioners stood firm in the midway between the Earl’s troops and them, and likewise two horsemen of the Earl’s was placed between them and her Majesty’s forces. These scout officers were to give warning if any treacherous attempt were made on either part.’ Tyrone and his brother Cormac, whom the keener spirits among the O’Neills made tanist in defiance of the Queen’s patent, O’Donnell, Maguire, MacMahon, O’Dogherty, O’Reilly, and many others, were at the meeting or in the immediate neighbourhood. The first article of the Irish demand was ‘free liberty of conscience’—free liberty of conscience for those who were anxious to exchange the sovereignty of Elizabeth for that of Philip II. Free pardons and restoration in blood of all of the northern rebels, the maintenance of Tyrone’s power over his neighbours, the acknowledgment of O’Donnell’s claims in Connaught, a pardon for Feagh MacHugh, and the non-appointment of sheriffs in Ulster, except for Newry and Carrickfergus; these were the other demands, of which they believed the concession would ‘draw them to a more nearness of loyalty.’ They amounted, in truth, to an abrogation of the royal authority in nearly all Ulster, and in a great part of Connaught. The negotiations following lasted eleven days, with growing distrust on both sides, and at last a fresh truce was concluded, for February, March, and April. The terms, in so far as they differed from the former ones, were in favour of Tyrone and O’Donnell. On the very day that the truce was concluded, Russell wrote to complain that the commissioners were too easy with men who made immoderate demands, contrary to their former submissions; and on the next day, as if his words were prophetic, an indignant letter came from the Queen, accompanied by a much-needed remittance of 12,000l. She had good reason to complain that the more inclined to mercy she showed herself the more insolent the rebels became, and was particularly annoyed at the fact that the commissioners addressed Tyrone and his associates by such titles as ‘loving friends,’ and ‘our very good lord.’[250]

So anxious were the commissioners for peace at any price that they withheld the terms on which the Queen was willing to pardon the rebels until the truce was safely concluded. Nor did they venture to show the actual articles sent from England, thinking the chiefs would be less alarmed by conditions of their own devising. Elizabeth held the language of a merciful sovereign, who was ready to pardon rebels, but who had their lands and lives at her mercy. Tyrone had forfeited his patent and should only receive back portions of his estate, while his jurisdiction over his neighbours was ousted altogether. He was to give several substantial pledges, and to send his eldest son to be educated in England. O’Donnell, Maguire, O’Rourke, and the MacMahons were to be treated with separately, and in every case members of their septs who had not rebelled were to have some of their lands. If the Earl held out, efforts were to be made to detach O’Donnell from him. All this was inconsistent with what the chiefs had demanded from the commissioners; and the latter could only give the Queen’s ideas in their own language, and solicit observations from the parties concerned. Tyrone said he was anxious to send over his son, but that his people would not allow him, and, indeed, it is likely that he was afraid of his brother Cormac’s doings as tanist. He had no objection to a gaol, nor to a sheriff—provided that official were an inhabitant of Tyrone—was ready to renounce the name of O’Neill, though not upon oath, and agreed to give reasonable pledges. But he would not consent to a garrison at Armagh, insisting that Tyrone and Armagh should be one county; nor would he bind himself, without the consent of his clansmen, to pay a fine in support of the garrisons at Monaghan, Blackwater, and Newry. O’Donnell was even less accommodating, ironically offering to build a gaol in Donegal, whenever he agreed to receive a sheriff there. He claimed the county of Sligo as his own, and maintained that O’Dogherty held all his territory of him. Having received these answers, the commissioners returned to Dublin, and when Gardiner went thence to England, the Queen for some time refused to see him.[251]

Russell’s journey to Galway had resulted in a truce, but there was no peace in Connaught. Bingham managed to victual Ballymote across the Curlew mountains, but not without the help of three veteran companies, who did all the fighting and lost five officers and fifty men. Boyle and Athlone were threatened, while a MacDermot and an O’Connor Roe were set up, as well as a MacWilliam. At last the Burkes, aided by a party of Scots, having done what damage they could on the Galway side of the Shannon, crossed the river and began to harry the King’s County. The Lord Deputy started without delay, was joined by O’Molloy and MacCoghlan, and fell upon the intruders at daybreak. A hundred and forty were killed or drowned in trying to escape, and Russell then turned to the castle of Cloghan, which was strongly held by the O’Maddens. ‘Not if you were all Deputies,’ they replied, on being summoned to surrender, and added that the tables would probably be turned on the morrow. Russell humanely proposed that the women should be sent out, but the O’Maddens refused. Next morning a soldier contrived to throw a firebrand on to the thatched roof, which blazed up at once. A brisk fusillade was directed upon the battlements, and another fire was lit at the gate, while the assailants made a breach in the wall. Forty-six persons were cut down, smothered, or thrown over the walls, while two women and a boy were saved. The Scots who came over the Shannon had been reported as 400, and Russell made a good deal of his success; but Norris reduced the number of strangers to forty, and spoke with contempt of the whole affair.[252]

When the Queen at last consented to hear Chief Justice Gardiner’s account of his proceedings in the North, she expressed great displeasure. The demand for liberty of conscience, she said, was a mere pretext, the result of disloyal conspiracy, and put forward as an excuse for past rebellion more than from any desire to do better in future. Tyrone and the rest had no persecutor to complain of, and what they asked was in reality ‘liberty to break laws, which her Majesty will never grant to any subject of any degree’—a pronouncement which might well have been quoted by the foes of the dispensing power ninety years later. And, as if it were intended to strike Russell obliquely, a new commission was ordered to be issued to Norris and Fenton. They were to meet the rebels during the truce, and to ‘proceed with them to some final end, either according to their submissions to yield them pardons, with such conditions as are contained in our instructions; or if they shall refuse the reasonable offers therein contained, or seek former delays, to leave any further treaty with them.’ And at the same time there was to be a general inquiry into all alleged malpractices in government which might cause men to rebel. Some of the directions to the new commissioners were rather puzzling; but the Lord Deputy and Council refused to suggest any explanation, for that they were ‘left no authority to add, diminish, or alter.’

Russell indeed gave out that he would go to the North himself, and Norris was in despair. ‘The mere bruit,’ he says, ‘will cross us, and I am sure to meet as many other blocks in my way as any invention can find out. I know the Deputy will not spare to do anything that might bring me in disgrace, and remove me from troubling his conscience here.’ Russell, on the other hand, complained that Burghley was his enemy and sought out all his faults. ‘I wish,’ said the old Treasurer, ‘they did not deserve to be sought out.’[253]