Viscount Gormanston was thus made governor of Meath, and arms were given him for 500 men. He was in open rebellion a few weeks later. Sir Nicholas Barnewall of Turvey, afterwards created Viscount Kingsland by Charles I., became governor of the county of Dublin, and had arms for 300 men. Barnewall was a good deal involved in political intrigues, but soon fled to England to avoid taking arms against the Government. A commission as governor of Westmeath and arms for 300 men were given to Sir Thomas Nugent, who afterwards tried to fill the difficult part of neutral. Sir Christopher Bellew was governor of Louth, with arms for 300, but he very soon joined the Irish. To George Earl of Kildare, Cork’s son-in-law, his own county was entrusted and arms for 300; but he was a Protestant and suffered severely for his loyalty, while he was quite unable to curb his neighbours. Finding after a time that the arms given out would, if used at all, be used against them, the Lords Justices endeavoured to get them back, but they recovered only 950 out of 1700, and the enemy had the rest.[279]

Ormonde was at his own house at Carrick-on-Suir when the rebellion broke out. The Lords Justices sent for him at once, and the first letter being delayed in transmission, a second was sent with a commission to him and Mountgarret to govern the county of Kilkenny and to take such other precautions as were possible. The gentry met at Kilkenny and offered to raise 240 foot and 50 horse, while Callan and other towns made similar promises. There were, however, no arms, and the Lords Justices would give none out of the stores. Before purchases could be made in England the situation was greatly changed. Ormonde arrived at Dublin with his troop early at the end of the first week in November, and on the 10th Sir Patrick Wemyss returned from Edinburgh with his nomination as Lieutenant-General, to command the army as he had done in Strafford’s time. The Lords Justices made out his commission next day, with warrant to execute martial law, but without prejudice to Leicester’s authority as Lord Lieutenant. It was not till six months later that the King gave him power to appoint subordinate officers according to the ‘constant practice and custom of former times,’ it having by then become evident that Leicester would not reside in Ireland. The defence of Drogheda had already been provided for by Sir Henry Tichborne, who was living at Dunshaughly, near Finglas, and who had brought his family into Dublin on the first day, having already ‘scattered a parcel of rogues’ that threatened his country house. Having received a commission from the Lords Justices, he raised and armed 1000 men in nine days among the Protestants who had left their homes, and with this regiment he entered Drogheda on November 4. Three additional companies were sent to him a few days later.[280]

One of Ormonde’s first acts as general was to commission Lord Lambert, Sir Charles Coote, and Sir Piers Crosbie to raise regiments of 1000 men each, and thirteen others to raise independent companies of 100 each. The ranks were filled in a few days, for all business was at a standstill, and Protestant fugitives poured in in great numbers. There were 1500 disciplined men of the old army about Dublin. Strafford had left a fine train of field artillery with arms, tents, and all necessaries for 10,000 men. Under these circumstances Ormonde was for pushing on, and putting down the northern rebellion at once. To this the Lords Justices would not consent, and it may be that they were jealous of their general; but it must be confessed that there was also something to be said for a cautious policy. With the Pale evidently disaffected Dublin could not be considered as very safe.[281]

When the rebellion broke out the Lords Justices by their own authority prorogued Parliament till February 24, fearing a concourse of people to Dublin, and also because the state of Ulster made it almost certain that there would not be a Protestant majority. The gentry of the Pale, and the Roman Catholic party generally, protested strongly, and there were doubts about the legality of the prorogation. Some lawyers held that Parliament would be dissolved by the mere fact of not meeting on the appointed day. To get over the difficulty the Lords Justices agreed that Parliament should meet as originally announced, but that it should sit only for one day, and should then be prorogued to a date earlier than February 24. Ormonde and some others were in favour of a regular session, but they were overruled by the official members of the Council. Parliament met accordingly on November 9, and immediately adjourned till the 16th, so as to give time for private negotiations. The attendance was thin in both Houses, partly on account of the state of the country and partly because many thought that the prorogation till February was still in force. Mr. Cadowgan significantly remarked that ‘many members of the House are traitors, and whether they come or not it is not material.’ There was a great military display about the Castle gates, according to the precedent created by Strafford, and offence was taken at this; but the two Houses agreed to a protestation against those who, ‘contrary to their duty and loyalty to his Majesty, and against the laws of God, and the fundamental laws of the realm, have traitorously and rebelliously raised arms, have seized on some of his Majesty’s forts and castles, and dispossessed many of his Majesty’s faithful subjects of their houses, lands, and goods, and have slain many of them, and committed other cruel and inhumane outrages and acts of hostility within the realm.’ And the Lords and Commons pledged themselves to ‘take up arms and with their lives and fortunes suppress them and their attempts.’ There was some grumbling about the words ‘traitorously and rebelliously’ on the principle that birds are not to be caught by throwing stones at them, but the majority thought the Ulster rebels past praying for, and the protest was agreed to without a division. There was also unanimity in appointing a joint committee, fairly representing different sections, with power, subject to royal or viceregal consent, to confer with the Ulster people. Two days were occupied in these discussions, and on the evening of the 17th the Lords Justices prorogued Parliament till January 11. When that day came things had gone far beyond the parliamentary stage.[282]

The Earl of Leicester was appointed Lord Lieutenant early in June 1641, and the Lords Justices were directed by the King to furnish him with copies of all their instructions. He remained in England, and to him the Irish Government addressed their account of the outbreak. This was brought over by Owen O’Connolly, received on or before October 31, and at once communicated to the Privy Council, who had a Sunday sitting. On Monday, November 1, the Upper House did not sit in the morning, ‘for,’ says Clarendon, ‘it was All Saints’ Day, which the Lords yet kept holy, though the Commons had reformed it.’ To the House of Commons accordingly the Privy Council proceeded in a body, headed by the Lord Keeper. There was no precedent for such a visitation, but after a short discussion chairs were placed in the body of the House and Leicester, with his hat off, read the Lords Justices’ letter of October 25. Clarendon testifies from personal knowledge that the rebellion was odious to the King, and confidently asserts that none of the parliamentary leaders ‘originally and intentionally contributed thereunto,’ though he believes that their conduct afterwards added fuel to the flame. When the Privy Councillors had withdrawn the House went into committee, Mr. Whitelock in the chair, and drew up heads for a conference with the Peers. As to money they resolved to borrow 50,000l., giving full security, and to pay O’Connolly 500l. down with a pension of 200l. until an estate of greater value could be provided. Resolutions were passed against Papists, and particularly for the banishment of the Queen’s Capuchins. The Lords met in the afternoon, and after this the two Houses acted together. Three days later the estimate for Ireland was raised to 200,000l., and Leicester was authorised to raise 3,500 foot and 600 horse, while arms were provided for a further levy. News of the outbreak came to the King at Edinburgh direct from Ulster four days before it reached the English Parliament. Tradition says that he was playing golf, and that he finished his game.[283]

Lord Dillon of Costello, who was a professing Protestant, produced at the Council on November 10 a letter signed by twenty-six O’Farrells in county Longford. This paper is well written, and contains the usual pleas for religious equality, which modern readers will readily admit, though they were not according to the ideas of that day either at home or abroad. The O’Farrells had taken an oath of allegiance, but their sincerity is open to doubt, for they demanded ‘an act of oblivion and general pardon without restitution on account of goods taken in the times of this commotion.’ No government could possibly grant any such amnesty, and the suggestion came at a time when Ulster was in a blaze and when Dublin was crowded with Protestants who had escaped with their bare lives. Dillon and Taaffe were commissioned by the Roman Catholic lords to carry their grievances to the King. When returning with instructions they were stopped at Ware and their papers overhauled, the Lords Justices having warned their parliamentary friends.[284]

The influence of Carte has led historians generally to think that the Lords Justices were either too desperately frightened to think of anything but their own safety, or that they let the rebellion gather head to suit the views of the English parliamentary party. There is not much evidence for either supposition. Just at the moment when the Pale was declaring against them they reported their destitute condition to Leicester. The troops were unpaid. At Dublin they had but 3000 foot and 200 horse, and the capital as well as Drogheda was surrounded by armed bands who had already made food scarce, and who threatened to cut off the water. A large extent had to be defended, and many of the inhabitants were not to be trusted. A crusade was being preached all over the country, and at Longford, notwithstanding the oath of the O’Farrells, a priest was reported to have given the signal for a massacre by ripping up the parson with his own hand. The mischief was spreading daily, and agitators industriously declared that no help would be sent from England. Ireland was not, however, forgotten, but Parliament, to whom the King had specially entrusted it, had its own business to do, and a popular assembly has no administrative energy. It was not till the last day of December that Sir Simon Harcourt landed with 1100 men. Three hundred more followed quickly, and George Monck with Leicester’s own regiment was not far behind. Grenville brought 400 horse about the same time. Harcourt had long military experience in the Low Countries, and had lately commanded a regiment in Scotland. He had a commission as Governor of Dublin, but Coote was in possession and was not disturbed. Harcourt was very angry with the Lords Justices, but he got on well with Ormonde and did good service until his death.[285]

The number of troops available in Dublin was small, but they were much better armed than the insurgents. It was thus a matter of policy to act on the offensive and clear the surrounding country, demolishing houses and castles where troublesome posts might be established. This work, cruel in itself, was performed in a very ruthless manner, and particular blame has always fallen upon Sir Charles Coote, whose ferocity seems to have been as conspicuous as his courage. One story told both by Bellings and Leyburn is that he called upon a countryman to blow into the mouth of his pistol, that the simple fellow obeyed, and that Coote shot him in that position. He never went to bed during a campaign, but kept himself ready for any alarm, and lost his life in a sally from Trim during a night attack at the head of only seventeen men, the place being beset by thousands.[286]

CHAPTER XX
PROGRESS OF THE REBELLION

‘There are,’ says Hume, ‘three events in our history which may be regarded as touchstones of party men: an English Whig who asserts the reality of the popish plot, an Irish Catholic who denies the massacre in 1641, and a Scotch Jacobite who maintains the innocence of Queen Mary, must be considered as men beyond the reach of argument or reason, and must be left to their prejudices.’ The fact of a massacre cannot be denied, but its extent is quite another matter. There is no evidence of any general conspiracy of the Irish to destroy all the Protestants, but so far as Ulster was concerned there was no doubt one to regain the land and in so doing to expel the settlers. Rinuccini admitted that the northern Irish, though good Catholics, were often great savages; and it is not surprising that there should have been many murders, sometimes of the most atrocious character, and that a much larger number of lives should have been lost through starvation and exposure. It is also true that many acts of kindness were done by the successful insurgents, and that the retaliation of the English was cruel and indiscriminating. As to the number killed during the early part of the rebellion and before it assumed the dignity of civil war, it is impossible to form anything like a satisfactory estimate. Temple, whose book was published in 1646, says that in the first two years after the outbreak ‘300,000 British and Protestants were cruelly murdered in cold blood, destroyed some other way, or expelled out of their habitations according to the strict conjecture and computation of those who seemed best to understand the numbers of English planted in Ireland, besides those few that perished in the heat of fight during the war.’ The great exaggeration of this has been dwelt on by writers who wish to disparage Temple’s authority, but these enormous figures were generally believed in at the time. May, who depended partly on Temple, says ‘the innocent Protestants were upon a sudden disseized of their estates, and the persons of above 200,000 men, women, and children, murdered, many of them with exquisite and unheard of tortures, within the space of one month.’ Dr. Maxwell learned from the Irish themselves that their priests counted 154,000 killed during the first five months. The Jesuit Cornelius O’Mahony, writing in 1645, says it was admitted on all sides that 150,000 heretics had been killed up to that time; he exults in the fact, and thinks the number was really greater. Clarendon says 40,000 or 50,000 English Protestants were murdered at the very beginning of the rebellion. Petty was the first writer of repute who attempted anything like a critical estimate. He had a genius for statistics and he knew a great deal, but owing to the want of trustworthy data, even he can do little more than guess that ‘37,000 were massacred in the first year of tumults.’ So much for those who lived at or near the time; modern writers can scarcely be better informed, but may perhaps be more impartial. Froude, who was not inclined to minimise, thinks even Petty’s estimate too high, and quotes the account of an eye-witness who says 20,000 were killed or starved to death in about the first two months. Warner, who wrote in 1767, was inclined to adopt Peter Walsh’s estimate of 8000. Reid rejected the higher figures, but without venturing on any decided opinion, Lecky very truly said that certainty was unattainable, but was inclined to agree with Warner. Miss Hickson, who examined the depositions more closely than any other writer, said the same, but thought the number killed in the first three or four years of the war could hardly fall short of 25,000. The conclusion of the whole matter is that several thousand Protestants were massacred, that the murders were not confined to one province or county, but occurred in almost every part of the island, that the retaliation was very savage, innocent persons often suffering for the guilty, and that great atrocities were committed on both sides. ‘The cause of the war,’ says Petty, ‘was a desire of the Romanists to recover the Church revenue, worth about 110,000l. per annum and of the common Irish to get all the Englishmen’s estates, and of the ten or twelve grandees of Ireland to get the empire of the whole.... But as for the bloodshed in the contest, God best knows who did occasion it.’ He thought the population of Ireland in 1641 was about 1,400,000, out of which only 210,000 were British.[287]

One of the worst cases of retaliation was the massacre by Scots of many Roman Catholic inhabitants of Island Magee in Antrim, but it is necessary to point out that this took place in January 1642, because it has been asserted that it was the first act of violence and the real cause of the whole rebellion. Some of those who took part in the outrage were alive in 1653, and were then prosecuted by the Cromwellian Government.[288]

Dublin was saved, but the rebellion broke out in Ulster upon the appointed day. According to Captain John Creichton, his grandfather’s house near Caledon in Tyrone was the first attacked. The rebellion certainly began upon Sir Phelim O’Neill’s property at Caledon or Kinard during the night of October 22, when O’Connolly was telling the Lords Justices what he had heard. William Skelton, who lived as a servant in Sir Phelim’s house, was ploughing in the afternoon when an Irish fellow servant came to him with about twenty companions and said that they had risen about religion. Armed only with cudgels, they attacked several of Sir Phelim’s English tenants, who were well-to-do and apparently well-beloved by their Irish neighbours, ‘and differed not in anything, save only that the Irish went to mass, and the English to the Protestant church in Tinane, a mile from Kinard.’ Taken by surprise, the Protestants were easily disarmed, and robbed in the first instance only of such horses as would make troopers. All the English and Scots neighbours were thus plundered in detail, cattle, corn, furniture, and clothes being taken in succession. In about a fortnight the Irish began to murder the Protestants. Among those whom Skelton knew of his own knowledge to be killed in cold blood before the end of the year was ‘one Edward Boswell, who was come over but a year before from England, upon the invitation of the said Sir Phelim, his wife having nursed a child of the said Sir Phelim’s in London.’ Boswell’s wife and child were murdered at the same time, and seventeen others in Kinard itself, men, women, and children. Skelton and some others were saved by the intercession of Daniel Bawn, whose wife was an Englishman’s daughter.[289]

While his English servant was ploughing at Kinard, Sir Phelim O’Neill was on his way to Charlemont with an armed party. He had invited himself to dinner and was hospitably received by Lady Caulfield and her son, who had not long succeeded to the peerage. In after days there was a family tradition that the butler, an old and trusty servant, was alarmed by the attitude of Sir Phelim’s followers and imparted his fears to his mistress. His advice was neglected, and when the meal was over he left the house and made the best of his way to Dublin. The Caulfields and the unsuspecting men who ought to have defended the fort were surprised and captured, and O’Neill occupied Dungannon the same night. Next day the O’Quins took Mountjoy, the O’Hanlons Tanderagee, and the Magennises Newry. All were surprised, and there was practically no resistance. In the course of the day a fugitive trooper came to Lisburn, where Henry Leslie, Bishop of Down, was living, with news of the disasters at Charlemont and Dungannon, and four hours later another runaway announced that Newry was taken. Leslie at once sent the news on to Lord Montgomery, who was at or near Newtownards, and to Lord Chichester at Belfast; and they both wrote to the King.

Chichester said only one man had been slain, which has been adduced as a proof that there was no massacre, but he knew only what Leslie had told him, and there were no tidings from any point beyond Dungannon. Other districts could tell a very different tale.[290]

Lord Maguire was a prisoner, but his brother Rory raised Fermanagh before any account of the doings in Dublin had come so far. The robbing and murdering began on October 23, and very soon the whole county was at the mercy of the rebels. Enniskillen was never taken, and it will be seen that walled towns, if well defended, were generally maintained. Alice Champion, whose husband was killed in her presence on the first day, heard the murderers say that ‘they had special orders from Lord Maguire not to spare him or any of the Crosses that were his followers and tenants.’ About twenty-four others were murdered at the same time, and Mrs. Champion afterwards heard them boast that they had ‘killed so many Englishmen that the grease or fat that remained on their swords might have made an Irish candle,’ ninety being despatched at Lisgoole alone. The latter massacre is also sworn to by an eye-witness. Anne Ogden’s husband was murdered in the same way. She was allowed to fly to Dublin with her two children, but all were stripped on the way, and the children afterwards died ‘through the torments of hunger and cold they endured on that journey.’

Edward Flack, a clergyman, was plundered and wounded on the 23rd, and his house burned. The rebels in this case vented some of their fury on his Bible, which they stamped upon in a puddle, saying ‘A plague on this book, it has bred all this quarrel,’ and hoping that all Bibles would have this or worse treatment within three weeks. Much more of the same kind might be said, and the events sworn to in Fermanagh alone fully dispel the idea that there were no murders at the first outbreak.[291]

In Cavan, where the O’Reillys were supreme, there were no murders at the very beginning. Here, as in other places, the first idea seems to have been to spare the Scots and not to kill the English unless they resisted their spoilers. On the night of October 23, the Rev. George Crichton, vicar of Lurgan, who lived at Virginia, was roused out of his first sleep by two neighbours, who told him of the rising further north. Many of the Protestant inhabitants fled into the fields, but Crichton thought it better to stand his ground, and very soon a messenger came from Captain Tirlogh McShane McPhilip O’Reilly, to say that the Irish would harm no Scot. Crichton perhaps profited also by the fact that ‘no man ever lost a penny by him in the Bishop’s Court, and none ever paid to him what he did owe,’ which may have been a result of Bedell’s influence. He went out and met this chief at Parta wood, about a mile to the east of the town. O’Reilly, who had some twenty-four men with him, announced that Dublin and all other strong places were taken, and that they ‘had directions from his Majesty to do all these things to curb the Parliament of England; for all the Catholics in England should have been compelled to go to Church, or else they should be all hanged before their own doors on Tuesday next.’ Crichton said he did not believe such a thing had been ever dreamed of, whereupon O’Reilly declared his intention of seizing all Protestant property and of killing anyone who resisted. Next morning Virginia was sacked accordingly, but no lives were taken, for no one made any defence. The canny Scots clergyman managed to keep the Irish in pretty good humour, lodged nine families in his own house, and provided food for the fugitives from Fermanagh who began to arrive in a few days. Many thousands from Ballyhaise, Belturbet and Cavan passed through Virginia on their way towards the Pale. Crichton obtained help from Colonel Richard Plunkett, who wept and blamed Rory Maguire for all. On being asked whether the Irish had made a covenant he said, ‘Yea, the Scots have taught us our A B C; in the meantime he so trembled that he could scarce carry a cup of drink to his head.’ Nevertheless he boasted that Dublin was the only place not taken, that Geneva had fallen, and that there was war in England. Many of the wretched Fermanagh Protestants were wounded, and the state of their children was pitiable. The wounded were tended and milk provided for the children, Crichton telling his wife and family that it was their plain duty to stay, and that ‘in this trouble God had called them to do him that service.’ All this happened within the first week of the outbreak, and when the long stream of refugees seemed to have passed, Crichton and his family prepared to go; but they were detained, lest what they had to tell might be inconvenient. Protestants from the north continued to drop in for some time, and Crichton was allowed to relieve them until after the overthrow at Julianstown at the end of November. The O’Reillys took part in the affair, and their followers became bolder and less lenient.[292]

Another clergyman, Henry Jones, Dean of Kilmore, was living at Bellananagh Castle, near Cavan, at the time of the outbreak. Philip MacHugh MacShane O’Reilly, member for the county, was the chosen leader of the Irish. The actual chief of the clan was Edmund O’Reilly, but the most active part was taken by his son, Miles O’Reilly, the high sheriff, a desperate ‘young man,’ who at once assumed his native name of Mulmore Mac Edmond. Under the pretence of raising the posse comitatus he sent bailiffs to the scattered houses of Protestants and collected their arms. He himself seized the arms at Farnham Castle, and took possession of Cloghoughter, with whose governor, Arthur Culme, he had been on terms of friendship. Next day, October 24, the sheriff proceeded to Belturbet, which was the principal English settlement and contained some 1500 Protestants. Sir Stephen Butler was dead, but his widow had married Mr. Edward Philpot and was living there with her five children. Sir Francis Hamilton, who was at Keilagh Castle, tried to organise some resistance, but Philip MacHugh O’Reilly took the settlers under his protection, and they gave up their arms. Yet Captain Ryves with some thirty horse had no difficulty in reaching the Pale by O’Daly’s Bridge on the Blackwater, and in occupying Ardbraccan for the Lords Justices. Cavan surrendered, and on the 29th Bellananagh, which was indefensible, surrendered to the sheriff’s uncle, Philip MacMulmore O’Reilly. It had been determined to clear all the English out of the county, and though Lady Butler with 1500 others were escorted as far as Cavan they were attacked just beyond the town, and stripped of everything. Those who did not die of exposure reached Dublin, to starve and shiver among the other fugitives there. Those who remained at Belturbet had a still worse fate.[293]

The O’Reillys had always been more civilised than other natives of Ulster, and they almost seem to have felt that the Government must win in the end. Rose O’Neill, the wife of Philip MacHugh, wished to kill all the English and Scotch at Ballyhaise, but he would not allow it. ‘The day,’ he said, ‘may come when thou mayest be beholding to the poorest among them.’ With a view no doubt to that distant day, they resolved to petition the Lords Justices and to send an Englishman with the message. Bedell refused to go on account of his age and because his plundered flock could not spare him, but Jones, who in his time played many parts, thought it safer to do as he was asked. He left his wife and children as hostages and went to Dublin, with a memorial signed by seven O’Reillys which spoke of former misgovernment, and rumours that worse was to come. They protested their loyalty and desired the Lords Justices ‘to make remonstrance to his Majesty for us ... so that the liberties of our conscience may be secured unto us, and we eased of our other burdens in the civil government.’ The Lords Justices and eight Privy Councillors, of whom Ormonde was one, sent an answer, dealing in generalities ‘suitable to the weak condition of affairs in Dublin.’ The most they could promise was that if they would restore all the Cavan Protestants to their homes and properties and cease from further hostilities, that then their memorial should be forwarded to the King. On his return Jones found the O’Reillys preparing to invade the Pale. He managed to keep the Dublin Government well informed, at the same time dissuading the Irish from attacking the capital, whose means of defence he exaggerated. Drogheda, he said, was more assailable, and to Drogheda they determined to go. They mustered first at Virginia, where Mr. Crichton made friends with Philip MacHugh’s mother on the ground of common kinship with Argyle, ‘of which house it seemeth that she was well pleased that she was descended. This kindred stood me in great stead afterwards, for although it was far off and old, yet it bound the hands of the ruder sort from shedding my blood.’ Many lives, says Crichton, were also saved by the quarrels of the Irish among themselves. Philip MacHugh not only shielded his far away cousin, and others for his sake, but was evidently disinclined to the task in hand, regretted that he had not kept the Protestants safe at Belturbet, ‘blamed Rory Maguire for threatening to kill and burn them, and cursed those among the English that gave them counsel to leave their habitations.’ Crichton thought O’Reilly a deep dissembler, but he should have the credit for comparative humanity. He and others seem to have thought that the war was on the point of breaking out in England, and that it would be impossible to send any troops to Ireland for years to come.[294]

In Monaghan there was a general rising on October 23, but a number of murders were committed during the first few days, and the Macmahons behaved worse than the O’Reillys. Richard Blayney, member for the county, and commissioner of subsidies, was hanged by Sir Phelim O’Neill’s direct orders, and his dead body barbarously treated. At Carrickmacross Essex’s bailiff, Patrick McLoughlin Macmahon, took the lead among the local rebels, and about 600l. of the great absentee’s rents came into their hands. In Monaghan, as elsewhere, the Irish professed to do everything by the King’s orders, but at Armagh Sir Phelim O’Neill professed to show the actual commission with a broad seal to it, adding that he would be a traitor if he acted of his own accord. ‘We are a sold people,’ said an Englishman who witnessed the scene. A number of Protestants took refuge in the cathedral, but they had to surrender, and being stripped and robbed were sent to keep the Caulfields company at Charlemont. A miscellaneous collection of Protestants, including many children and poor people, from whom no ransom could be expected, were driven to the bridge of Portadown and there murdered.[295]