Kitabı oku: «Ireland under the Tudors. Volume 3 (of 3)», sayfa 13

A wild Irish household

An account of an Irish household by a foreigner who had lived among the people for months, and whose sight was not coloured by English prejudice, is so rare a thing that Cuellar’s may well be given in full.

The men

The women

The Irish rob the Spaniards, but save their lives

‘The habit of those savages is to live like brutes in the mountains, which are very rugged in the part of Ireland where we were lost. They dwell in thatched cabins. The men are well-made, with good features, and as active as deer. They eat but one meal, and that late at night, oat-cake and butter being their usual food. They drink sour milk because they have nothing else, for they use no water, though they have the best in the world. At feasts it is their custom to eat half-cooked meat without bread or salt. Their dress matches themselves – tight breeches, and short loose jackets of very coarse texture; over all they wear blankets, and their hair comes over their eyes. They are great walkers and stand much work, and by continually fighting they keep the Queen’s English soldiers out of their country, which is nothing but bogs for forty miles either way. Their great delight is robbing one another, so that no day passes without fighting, for whenever the people of one hamlet know that those of another possess cattle or other goods, they immediately make a night attack and kill each other. When the English garrisons find out who has lifted the most cattle, they come down on them, and they have but to retire to the mountains with their wives and herds, having no houses or furniture to lose. They sleep on the ground upon rushes full of water and ice. Most of the women are very pretty, but badly got up, for they wear only a shift and a mantle, and a great linen cloth on the head, rolled over the brow. They are great workers and housewives in their way. These people call themselves Christians, and say Mass. They follow the rule of the Roman Church, but most of their churches, monasteries, and hermitages are dismantled by the English soldiers, and by their local partisans, who are as bad as themselves. In short there is no order nor justice in the country, and everyone does that which is right in his own eyes. The savages are well affected to us Spaniards, because they realise that we are attacking the heretics and are their great enemies. If it was not for those natives who kept us as if belonging to themselves, not one of our people would have escaped. We owe them a good turn for that, though they were the first to rob and strip us when we were cast on shore. From whom and from the three ships which contained so many men of importance, those savages reaped a rich harvest of money and jewels.’¹⁷⁷

Wanderings of Cuellar

A narrow escape

A friendly bishop

Cuellar helped MacClancy to defend his castle against the Lord Deputy, and the chief was as unwilling to let him go as the smith had been. He escaped with four other Spaniards, during the first days of the new year, and after three weeks’ hardship in the mountains found himself at Dunluce in Antrim, where Alonso de Leyva had been lost. He was told that his only chance of a passage to Scotland was by some boats belonging to O’Cahan, which were expected to sail soon. The wound in his leg had broken out afresh, and he was unable to stand for some days. His companions left him to shift for himself, and after a painful walk to Coleraine he found that the boats had gone. There was a garrison there, and he had to take shelter in a mountain hut, where some women compassionately nursed him. In six weeks his wound was well enough to enable him to seek an interview with O’Cahan, but that chief, who was afraid to help any Spaniard, had gone upon a foray with the soldiers. ‘I was now,’ he says, ‘able to show myself in the town, which was of thatched houses, and there were some very pretty girls, with whom I struck up a great friendship and often visited their house to converse. One afternoon when I was there, two young Englishmen came in, and one of them, who was a sergeant, asked me if I was a Spaniard, and what I did there. I said yes, and that I was one of Don Alonso de Luzon’s soldiers who had surrendered, that my bad leg had prevented me from going with the rest, and that I was at their service to do their bidding. They said they hoped soon to take me with them to Dublin, where there were many Spaniards of note in prison. I replied that I could not walk, but was very willing to accompany them. They then sent for a horse, and their suspicions being set at rest, they began to romp with the girls. The mother made me signs to leave, which I did very quickly, jumping over ditches and going through thick covert till I came within view of O’Cahan’s castle. At nightfall I followed a road which led me to a great lagoon.’ This was probably Lough Foyle, and here he was befriended by herdsmen, one of whom, after a visit to Coleraine, told him that he had seen the two Englishmen ‘raging in search’ of him. He kept his counsel, but advised Cuellar to remove into the mountains. He was conducted to the hiding-place of a bishop, ‘a very good Christian,’ who prudently dressed like the country folk. ‘I assure you,’ writes the devout Spaniard, ‘that I could not restrain my tears when I came to kiss his hand.’ It seems almost certain that this was Redmond O’Gallagher, papal bishop of Derry and acting Primate, one of the three Irish prelates who had attended the Council of Trent. He had twelve other Spaniards with him, and by his help Cuellar managed to reach Scotland. ‘He was a reverend and just man,’ says the latter; ‘may God’s hand keep him free from his enemies.’

Final escape of Cuellar

Four shiploads of castaways from the Armada were ultimately despatched from Scotland, and were not molested by the English, to whom they were no longer dangerous; but Cuellar was wrecked once more near Dunkirk, and saw 270 of his companions butchered by the Dutch. At last, in October 1589, fourteen months after his narrow escape from swinging at the Duke of Medina Sidonia’s yard-arm, did this much-enduring man reach Antwerp, which was then in the hands of Alexander Farnese, and from thence he wrote the account which has been so largely used.¹⁷⁸

More than twenty ships lost in Ireland

It is not possible to trace the history of every ship lost on the Irish coast. Bingham, in a letter written when all was over, says twelve ships were wrecked in his province, which included Clare, and that probably two or three more foundered about various islands. He particularly excluded those lost in Ulster and Munster. In a paper signed by Secretary Fenton the total number of vessels lost is given as eighteen, but full accounts had not yet come in, and that number certainly falls short of the truth. Cuellar says that more than twenty were lost in the kingdom of Ireland, with all the chivalry and flower of the Armada.¹⁷⁹

Great loss of life

Donegal

Connaught

Munster

According to Fenton’s account 6,194 men belonging to the eighteen ships whose loss he records, were ‘drowned, killed, and taken.’ This does not include those who escaped, nor the men belonging to ships not comprised in his list. At the end of October the number of Spaniards alive in Donegal alone was not far short of 3,000. About 500 escaped from Ulster to Scotland – ‘miserable, ragged creatures, utterly spoiled by the Irishry’ – and some of their descendants remain there to this day, and preserve the tradition of their origin. Very few of them reached Spain, and on the whole, we may believe that the number of subjects lost to Philip II. out of that part of the fleet which was lost in Ireland, cannot have been much short of 10,000. ‘In my province,’ says Bingham, ‘there hath perished at the least 6,000 or 7,000 men, of which there hath been put to the sword by my brother George, and executed one way and another, about 700 or 800, or upwards. Bingham spared some Dutchmen and boys, as probably engaged against their wills, but these were executed by the Lord Deputy himself when he visited Athlone. Twenty-four survivors from a wreck were executed at Tralee, but this was done in a panic, and was quite unnecessary. Munster was indeed too thoroughly subdued to make the presence of a few Spaniards dangerous. In Ulster the arm of the Government scarcely reached the castaways until they were no longer of much importance. Even the native Irish did not always spare those who had come to deliver them. The MacSwineys killed forty at one place in Donegal. Plunder was no doubt the object, as it had been in Tyrawley and in Clare island, but a desire to curry favour with the Government had also a good deal to say to it. It was only in those parts of Ulster and Connaught where the power of the chiefs was still unbroken, that the Spaniards received any kind of effectual help.¹⁸⁰

Tyrone and O’Donnell

The Spaniards powerless

Tyrone did what he could for the Spaniards by sending them provisions, and he bitterly reproved O’Donnell, who with his eldest son had helped the Government against them. Other O’Donnells joined the strangers, and the chief does not seem to have carried his country with him. His MacDonnell wife made no secret of her intention to employ the foreigners for her own purposes. Tyrone himself was careful not to commit any overt act, and indeed professed the utmost loyalty, but he took the opportunity to renew his complaints against Tirlogh Luineach. Two brothers named Ovington or Hovenden, who were partly in his service and partly in the Queen’s, skirmished with the Spaniards wrecked in Innishowen and brought most of them prisoners to Dungannon; but many of their soldiers ran away, and their own good faith was much suspected. The MacSwineys all helped the Spaniards more or less, and O’Dogherty complained that they transferred them to his country as soon as their own had been eaten up. With men and boats he had saved many hundreds from a wreck, but this was little more than common humanity demanded. There were at one time about 3,000 Spaniards alive in Ulster. O’Rourke had given them arms; MacClancy interrupted the communications; Ballymote, where George Bingham had a house, was burned by the O’Connors, O’Dowds, and O’Harts, who said they were making way for King Philip, and it was thought that Sligo must inevitably fall into their hands. Bingham’s vigour disconcerted the plans of the confederates, and a good many of the Spaniards made their way to Scotland. A few continued to lurk in different parts of Ireland, down to 1592 at least, but it is hardly possible to believe, what is so often stated, that they were in numbers sufficient to leave traces upon the features and complexions of the natives. Spanish blood there may be in Ireland, but it is surely more reasonable to attribute it to the commerce which existed for centuries between a land of fish and a land of wine.¹⁸¹

Wreck in Lough Foyle

Officers ransomed

The ship wrecked in O’Dogherty’s country was the ‘Trinidad Valencera’ of Venice. She had on board about 600 men – Spaniards, Greeks, and Italians; and of these 400, including more than 100 sick, were brought to shore, some of them with arms, but ‘without even one biscuit.’ ‘The natives, who are savages,’ had retired into the mountains, but they found some horses at grass, which they killed and ate. They were attacked by Tyrone’s foster-brethren, Richard and Henry Hovenden, who made much of the glorious victory of 140 over 600. The Spaniards said that they had surrendered on promise of their lives and of decent treatment; but that their captors nevertheless stripped them naked and killed a great many, not more than eighty being reserved as prisoners. Among these was one who seemed to carry ‘some kind of majesty.’ This was probably Don Alonso de Luzon, chief of the tercio or brigade of Naples, who was distinguished by a pointed beard and a large moustache. De Luzon with several other officers was brought to Drogheda, where they were told that those who had plundered them were not Englishmen but sons of the soil. Don Diego de Luzon and two others died after their arrival, and several had perished on the road. Don Alonso and Rodrigo de Lasso, who were both knights of Santiago, were sent to London for ransom, as well as Don Luis de Cordova and his nephew, the only prisoners whom Fitzwilliam allowed to live of those which Bingham had saved. More than fifty others were afterwards sent over, and something like 800l. appears to have been paid by way of ransom for them all.¹⁸²

The Irish got the plunder

Small gain to the Queen

Relics and traditions

The amount of plunder secured did not at all satisfy expectation. Much treasure fell into the hands of the Irish, who regarded the wreckage as a godsend. The small arms and the lighter pieces of artillery were appropriated in the same way. The larger cannon were not so easily moved, and a few were recovered by Carew and others. One wedge of gold found its way to the Queen, and there were rumours of various costly articles which had been seized by officers or adventurers. The guns rescued for her Majesty hardly exceeded a dozen, and a few others were sent into Scotland by the MacDonnells, who also got hold of a good many doubloons. The relics which have been handed down to us are very few, but the memory of the invincible Armada is preserved by the names which have clung to some points of the Irish coast.¹⁸³

The Armada a crusade

Irish priests on board

Other Irishmen

By a strange reading of history it has lately been attempted to divest the Armada of its religious character. It is very true that some of Queen Elizabeth’s subjects were conspicuous by their loyalty, though they adhered to the communion of Rome: they were Englishmen first and Catholics afterwards. But it was against heresy and against the queen of heresy that Philip shot his bolt. One Spanish poem in honour of the Armada begins with an invocation of the Virgin ‘conceived without sin,’ and ends with some lines about turning the Lutherans into good Christians. Another poet laments that the wise, powerful, and warlike island of Britain had been changed from a temple of faith into a temple of heresy. The land which produced the Arthurs, the Edwards, and the Henrys, was now, he says, condemned to eternal infamy for submitting to a spindle instead of the sceptre and sword; and he apostrophises Elizabeth as anything but a virgin queen, but rather as the wolfish offspring of an unchaste mother. Lope de Vega, who served in the Armada, contents himself with calling Philip the Christian Ulysses, and the Queen of England a false siren; and he avers that faith only despatched the vast fleet from the Spanish shore. 180 Spanish and Portuguese friars sailed in the Armada, Franciscans, Dominicans, Carmelites, Augustinians, and Theatins being all represented; and there were certainly some Irish ecclesiastics. ‘Tomas Vitres’ is probably Thomas White of Clonmel, who became a Jesuit in 1593. There was also a friar named James ne Dowrough, who originally went to Spain with James Fitzmaurice, and who was cast upon the coast of Donegal, where the people paid him much respect. Some few Irish laymen there were also on board, of whom the most important was a son of James Fitzmaurice, who died at sea and who was buried with a great ceremonial in Clew Bay. One or two other Desmond Geraldines are also mentioned. There were a few who belonged to good families of the Pale, the most important being Baltinglas’s brother, Edmund Eustace. Eustace was reported dead, but he got back to Spain. Cahil O’Connor, who killed Captain Mackworth, was another, and he also was afterwards alive in Spain. James Machary, a native of Tipperary, said he was impressed at Lisbon. On the whole it is clear that there was no thought at all of a descent on Ireland, though some Spaniards taken in Tralee Bay said that on board the Duke of Medina’s ship was an Englishman called Don William, a man of a reasonable stature, bald, and very like Sir William Stanley. But Stanley had not left the Netherlands, and there were other Englishmen in the Spanish fleet.¹⁸⁴

Rumours from Spain

A tradition

As late as February, 1589, Irish merchants spread flattering reports in Spain. Alonso de Leyva was alive, they said, and held Athlone against the Lord Deputy with 2,000 men; but an Irish bishop at Corunna said there were no Spaniards in Ireland, and the tellers of both tales were arrested until the truth should be known. Norris had recommended that Irish auxiliaries should be used in retaliating on the coast of Spain, and when he visited Corunna with Drake they lamented that the advice had not been taken. ‘Had we had either horse on land, or some companies of Irish kerne to have pursued them, there had none of them escaped.’ There is a tradition in Munster, and the local historian fixes the date in 1589, that Drake was pursued by Spaniards into Cork harbour, that he took refuge among the woods in the secluded Carrigaline river, and that the foreigners sailed round the harbour and departed without being able to find him. It is not easy to say when this happened, but the place is called ‘Drake’s hole’ unto this day.¹⁸⁵

The last of the Armada

The Scotch Government did what it could to get rid of the Spaniards peaceably, but some were not shipped off until July 1589, and even then a remnant was left. They hung about the Orkneys, taking stray English vessels and even committing some murders on Scottish soil. In the correspondence to which they gave rise Bothwell’s name is frequently mentioned, and they continued to give trouble for some years. The few who lingered in Ireland could do but little harm, and the years which followed Philip’s great enterprise were unusually quiet.¹⁸⁶

CHAPTER XLIII.
ADMINISTRATION OF FITZWILLIAM, 1588-1594

Ulster after the Armada

Case of Sir John O’Gallagher

When the danger was over, it was not unnatural that Fitzwilliam should wish to chastise those who had favoured the invaders, or at least to reduce them to submission. His enemies said he only wanted to convert some of the Spanish treasure to his own use; but it is clear that he got none of it, either for himself or for the Queen. On two miles of strand in Sligo ‘there lay,’ he says, ‘more wrecked timber in my opinion (having small skill or judgment therein) than would have built five of the greatest ships that ever I saw, besides mighty great boats, cables, and other cordage answerable thereunto, and some such masts, for bigness and length, as in mine own judgment I never saw any two could make the like.’ But there were no doubloons. The castles of Ballyshannon and Belleek were in possession of Tyrone’s father-in-law, Sir John MacToole O’Gallagher, who had formerly enjoyed a good service pension of 100l., of which he had been deprived by Perrott. He was now in close alliance with Ineen Duive, the mother of Hugh Roe O’Donnell, and it was dangerous to oppose her, for she murdered at this time another O’Gallagher whose independent bearing annoyed her. Neither O’Rourke nor any of the smaller chiefs who had befriended the Spaniards came to Fitzwilliam, and the cattle were driven off into the mountains. O’Donnell did come, and so did Sir John O’Gallagher and Sir John O’Dogherty. Fitzwilliam’s enemies said O’Gallagher came under safe conduct, but the annalists do not allege this. The Deputy himself says he persuaded him to come by courteous entreaty, and that O’Dogherty came of his own accord. He treated them as sureties for Perrott’s tribute, of which ‘not one beef had been paid,’ and carried them both prisoners to Dublin; but the 2,100 cows remained in Donegal. Whether word was broken with these chiefs or not, Fitzwilliam’s policy was certainly bad. How were O’Rourke and MacSwiney punished by imprisoning O’Gallagher or O’Dogherty? There could be no result except to make Irishmen very shy of the Viceroy. O’Dogherty remained in Dublin Castle for a year or more, and the deputy Remembrancer of the Exchequer said he was only released then because certain hogsheads of salmon were sent to the Lord Chancellor’s cellar. O’Gallagher remained six years in prison, Fitzwilliam saying he was too dangerous to liberate, and his critics maintaining that he only wanted to be bribed. The wretched chief, who was old and infirm, was released by Sir William Russell, but died soon after.¹⁸⁷

O’Donnell politics

Fitzwilliam, who went from Donegal to Strabane, made Donnell O’Donnell sheriff. He was O’Donnell’s eldest son by an Irish wife or mistress, and it was supposed that he would do good service against the Scotch party, who thirsted for his blood. It was hoped that Tyrone would help to get the promised rent from Tyrconnell, but he contented himself with entertaining the army sumptuously at Dungannon, and he afterwards made the treatment of Sir John O’Gallagher one of his principal grievances. The redoubtable Ineen soon afterwards burned down her husband’s house at Donegal, lest it should serve to shelter a garrison, and at the same time her son Hugh, who was a prisoner at Dublin Castle, was betrothed to the Earl’s daughter. The Lord Deputy’s journey to the North had no results of importance, but he could boast of not losing one man in seven weeks.¹⁸⁸

The Desmond forfeitures

Opposition to the undertakers

In order to clear up some of the claims made upon the forfeited Desmond estates, it was thought wise to send over no less a person than Chief Justice Anderson. His law could not be gainsaid, and he was not likely to err on the side of leniency. The English lawyers joined in commission with him were Sir Robert Gardiner, Chief Justice of Ireland, Thomas Gent, Baron of the Exchequer in England, and Jesse Smythe, Chief Justice of Munster; and upon these four fell the principal part of the work. Of eighty-two claims only one was allowed, a conveyance from Desmond being produced in that case, of a date prior to his first treasonable act. In the absence of such proof, the Queen was held to be seised in fee of all the Earl’s estate. The materials exist for a detailed account of the Munster settlement, but they are more properly available for histories of Cork, Kerry, Limerick, and Waterford than for that of Ireland. One of the suitors aggrieved by the decision of the commissioners was Lord Roche, and his case is especially interesting because of its connection with Spenser. He made seven distinct claims, and on the first being dismissed, because he had ‘sinisterly seduced’ the witnesses, he refused to proceed with the others, and threatened to complain to the Queen, whereupon the commissioners sent him to gaol. The imprisonment was short, but he declared that one of the undertakers had shot an arrow at him, professed to be in fear of his life, and begged Ormonde to lend him some house on the Suir, where he might be safe for a time. In the meantime he managed to make the country very unsafe for some other people.

Spenser

Spenser had Kilcolman and 4,000 acres allotted to him, but he complained that the area was really much less. Less or more, he was not allowed to dwell in peace, and his chief enemy was Lord Roche, who accused him of intruding on his lands, and using violence to his tenants, servants, and cattle. The poet retorted that the peer entertained traitors, imprisoned subjects, brought the law into contempt, and forbade all his people to have any dealings with Mr. Spenser and his tenants. An English settler named Keate asked Morris MacShane, one of Lord Roche’s men, why he had no fear of God; and it was sworn that he answered, ‘he feared not God, for he had no cause; but he feared his Lord, who had punished him before and would have his goods.’ Lord Roche was charged with many outrages, such as killing a bullock belonging to a smith who mended a settler’s plough, seizing the cows of another for renting land from the owner of this plough, and killing a fat beast belonging to a third, ‘because Mr. Spenser lay in his house one night as he came from the sessions at Limerick.’ Ultimately the poet’s estate was surveyed as 3,028 acres at a rent of 8l. 13s. 9d., which was doubled at Michaelmas 1594, making it about five farthings per acre. Spenser maintained himself at Kilcolman until 1598, when the undertakers were involved in general ruin. Troubles with Lord Roche continued to the end, and it may be doubted whether even the happy marriage which inspired his finest verses ever reconciled him to what he has himself described as —

 
My luckless lot
That banished had myself, like wight forlore,
Into that waste, where I was quite forgot.
 

Raleigh

Fatal defects of the settlement

Raleigh, whose society was one of Spenser’s few pleasures in Munster, settled a very large number of English families upon his great estate in Cork and Waterford. Passing afterwards into Boyle’s skilful hands, this settlement became of the greatest importance, but it was overrun like the rest in 1598. Ten years before the crash came, Raleigh could see that Thomas of Desmond and his son James were dangerous neighbours. Sir Richard Grenville and Fane Beecher had the whole barony of Kinalmeaky between them, and at the end of 1589 there were only six Englishmen there, upon land estimated at 24,000 acres. The hero of Flores had a very poor opinion of the prospect unless questions which proved insoluble could be speedily settled, and the English settlers found their position everywhere very disagreeable. Grenville and St. Leger planted a considerable number in the district immediately south of Cork, and Arthur Hyde did pretty well on the Blackwater; but, as a rule, the newcomers were greatly outnumbered by the natives. Nor can it be doubted that many returned to England when they found that Munster was not Eldorado. Irish tenants were easily got to replace them, and even to pay rents to the undertakers until it was possible to cut their throats. When the day of trial came, the remaining settlers were easily disposed of; they cried, and there was none to help them.¹⁸⁹

The Clancarty heiress;

secretly married to Florence MacCarthy

Among other devices for balancing the Desmond power in Munster, Elizabeth had made Donnell MacCarthy More Earl of Clancare, and Shane O’Neill had spoken very sarcastically of this attempt to turn a foolish chief into a ‘wise earl.’ His only legitimate son ran away to France, where he died, and all hereditary rights were then vested in his daughter Ellen, who became an important figure in the eyes of English and Irish fortune-hunters. It appears that Clancare sold his daughter to Sir Valentine Browne as a wife for his son Nicholas, Sir Thomas Norris having first given up the idea of wooing her. Sir Valentine was a mortgagee, for the earl had wasted his substance in riotous living, and in the hands of a family of undertakers and land-surveyors every claim of that sort would have its full value. In the eyes of the MacCarthies and of the heiress’s mother, who was a Desmond, the proposed match was a disparagement, and early in 1589 a private marriage was celebrated between Lady Ellen and Florence MacCarthy, who had probably come from London on purpose. Sir Nicholas Browne afterwards married a daughter of O’Sullivan Bere. The heiress does not seem to have been much consulted, and a marriage which began so romantically was not in the end even moderately happy. In 1599 she distrusted her husband, who called her ‘foolish and froward,’ and not long afterwards she was practically a spy upon his actions.

Mac Carthy politics

Florence and Donnell MacCarthy

Florence was Tanist of Carbery, which had passed to his uncle, and the result of his runaway match would be to unite the territories of MacCarthy Reagh and MacCarthy More in one hand. Now that the Desmonds were gone, a MacCarthy on this scale would be the strongest man in Munster. To break up these great estates was a fixed object with the English Government, and Florence was sent as prisoner to England, where he remained for several years. His wife escaped from Cork, hid for a long time among her people, and then joined her husband in London. The clans generally acknowledged him as MacCarthy More, but there was another claimant in the person of Clancare’s illegitimate son Donnell, who had many friends among the people, and who was probably his father’s favourite. A peaceable inhabitant was murdered by this spirited young man, whom he had ventured to reprove for his Irish extortions, and who supported himself and his band of followers by promiscuous robbery. ‘It is thought,’ said St. Leger, ‘that this detestable murder was committed by the Earl’s consent, for that the party murdered would not relieve him with money, to bear out his drunken charges at Dublin.’ Florence, on the contrary, was a scholar, and a man who, notwithstanding his gigantic stature, used his pen more readily than his sword. His accomplishments, and the very hard treatment he received, have made him interesting, but there was nothing heroic about him. He was an astute Irishman, and while English writers could rightly accuse him of treasonable practices, his rival Donnell, called him ‘a damned counterfeit Englishman, whose only study and practice was to deceive and betray all the Irish in Ireland.’¹⁹⁰

Fitzwilliam and the MacMahons

In June 1589 Sir Ross MacMahon, chief of Monaghan, died without heirs male. He held of the Queen by letters patent, and was regarded as MacMahon, and also as feudal grantee of the whole country, except the districts comprised in the modern barony of Farney, which had been granted to Walter, Earl of Essex. He was liable to a rent of 400 beeves and to certain services. His brother Hugh Roe at once claimed his inheritance. Fitzwilliam’s great object was to break up these principal chiefries into moderate estates, and he thought this a good opportunity. Brian MacHugh Oge also claimed to be MacMahon, but upon purely Celtic grounds, and very much upon the strength of 500 or 600 armed men whom he found means to pay. Fitzwilliam persuaded Hugh Roe that he had not much chance of success, and brought him to agree to a division, but his kinsmen refused, since each gentleman of the name claimed to be the MacMahon himself. Fitzwilliam then acknowledged Hugh Roe as chief, and sent him 400 foot and 40 horse. Brian MacHugh was in possession of Leck Hill and of the stone upon which MacMahons were inaugurated, and was supported by Tyrone and by Hugh Maguire, who had just become chief of Fermanagh upon the death of his father Cuconnaught. On the approach of the Queen’s troops he fled into O’Rourke’s country, and left Hugh Roe in possession. Returning a few days later with help from O’Rourke or Maguire, he drove his rival from Clones, and killed a few soldiers, but without coming into collision with the main body. Hugh Roe did, however, maintain himself, but soon showed that he had no intention of abandoning native customs. He rescued prisoners from the sheriff of Monaghan, drove cattle in Farney, burned houses, and behaved himself generally like a spirited Irish chieftain. These offences legally involved a forfeiture of his patent, and Fitzwilliam found means to arrest him. Tyrone looked upon the cattle-stealing merely as ‘distraining for his right according to custom,’ but Fitzwilliam saw another chance of effecting the much desired partition. The Queen was inclined to think that MacMahon had committed nothing more than ‘such march offences as are ever ordinarily committed in that realm,’ that great caution should be used in punishing a man who undoubtedly depended on the Crown, and that Brian MacHugh in particular was not to be preferred. In the end Hugh Roe was tried and executed at Monaghan. In 1591 the country, with the exception of Farney, was divided between six MacMahons and MacKenna, the chief of Trough. The rent reserved to the Queen was 7s. 6d. for every sixty acres. An ample demesne was assigned to each, and those holding land under them, at a rent of 12s. 6d. for every sixty acres, were called freeholders. A seneschal was appointed to represent the Crown. Brian MacHugh was established in Dartrey, and Ever MacCoolie in Cremorne. The church-lands, and only the church-lands, were leased to private speculators, but the settlement was not destined to remain unquestioned.