CAPTAIN CUELLAR'S
_ADVENTURES_
IN
_CONNACHT & ULSTER_
A.D. 1588.
A PICTURE OF THE TIMES, DRAWN FROM CONTEMPORARY SOURCES.
BY HUGH ALLINGHAM, M.R.I.A.,
_Member of the Royal Society of Antiquaries (Ireland);
Author of "Ballyshannon: its History and Antiquities," &c._
_TO WHICH IS ADDED_
_An Introduction and Complete Translation_
OF
_CAPTAIN CUELLAR'S_
_Narrative of the Spanish Armada_
AND HIS ADVENTURES IN IRELAND.
BY ROBERT CRAWFORD, M.A., M.R.I.A., &C.
_With Map and Illustrations._
LONDON: ELLIOT STOCK, 62, PATERNOSTER ROW.
1897.
[_All Rights Reserved._]
PRINTED BY
M'CAW, STEVENSON & ORR, LIMITED,
LINENHALL WORKS,
BELFAST.
PART I.
_Note._
The favourable reception which was accorded to the paper entitled "The
Spanish Armada in Ulster and Connacht," which appeared in Vol. I., Part
III., April, 1895, of _The Ulster Journal of Archæology_, and the
continued interest in the subject, which seems rather to increase as the
literature becomes more extensive, has induced me to re-write the paper,
and add much information I was not possessed of when the first paper was
printed. Mr. Crawford's most valuable contribution, which forms the
second part of this book, should at least justify the present
publication. To Francis Joseph Bigger, M.R.I.A., my best thanks are due
for the use of copious notes and references, which have been of material
assistance.
HUGH ALLINGHAM.
BALLYSHANNON, _May_, 1897.
CAPTAIN CUELLAR'S
_Adventures in Connacht and Ulster_,
A.D. 1588.
[Illustration:
FIGUREHEAD OF A SPANISH GALLEON
WRECKED AT STREEDAGH, 1588.
(_Now in possession of Simon Cullen, J.P., Sligo._)
]
The publication of a work entitled "_La Armada Invincible_" [Madrid,
1885], by Captain Cesareo Fernandez Duro, a Spanish naval officer, has
been the means of bringing to light many fresh and interesting
particulars relating to this ill-fated venture; and, though the
incidents narrated are, as might be expected, viewed from the Spanish
standpoint, yet the history is written in a spirit of moderation, and
gives evidence of great research.
Amongst the valuable documents which have been collected and printed by
Captain Duro, that having for its title "Letter of One who was with the
Armada for England, and an Account of the Expedition," is of most lively
interest to us, seeing that it presents a graphic picture of the North
and North-West of Ireland in 1588, drawn by one who was an actual
eye-witness of what he describes.
Before proceeding, it may be well to observe that these adventures have
already been dealt with by several writers. The _Nineteenth Century_,
September, 1885, contained a valuable and interesting paper, entitled
"An Episode of the Armada," by the Earl of Ducie. In _Longman's
Magazine_ [September, October, and November, 1891] appeared "The Spanish
Story of the Armada," by J. A. Froude; and in the Proceedings, Royal
Irish Academy, 1893, Professor J. P. O'Reilly contributed a paper,
entitled "Remarks on Certain Passages in Captain Cuellar's Narrative."
The present paper has been written with the desire to identify some of
the places visited by Cuellar while in Connaught and Ulster. His
references to these places are, as might have been expected from a
foreigner, in many instances obscure; and in order to correctly trace
his wanderings, and identify the spots he visited, an intimate
acquaintance with the local topography of the district is essential.
Sometimes the clue afforded by his narrative is so slender, that anyone
unfamiliar with the localities intended might easily miss the meaning,
and be led to an entirely wrong conclusion. The present writer has had
the valuable assistance of R. Crawford, C.E., late Professor of
Engineering, T.C.D., an accomplished Spanish scholar--not merely a
translator--who possesses a practical acquaintance with the idioms of the
language. By this knowledge, Mr. Crawford has been able to elucidate
many obscure passages in the Spanish book, which would otherwise have
proved stumbling-blocks in the way of a proper understanding of the
author's meaning. Mr. Crawford has made a literal translation of the
whole of Cuellar's letter, which forms the second part of this book. A
careful perusal of Mr. Crawford's introductory remarks, and of his
translation, will well repay the reader, and is, in fact, needful for
the proper understanding of the subject-matter of these pages.
Before entering on Cuellar's adventures on Irish soil, it may be as well
to refer to an evident error into which Mr. Froude has fallen in his
description of the wreck of the three vessels in Sligo Bay, in one of
which Cuellar was. In the article before referred to, the following
passage occurs: "Don Martin, after an ineffectual struggle to double
Achill Island, had fallen back into the bay, and had anchored off
Ballyshannon in a heavy sea with two other galleons. There they lay for
four days, from the first to the fifth of September, when, the gale
rising, their cables parted, and all three drove on shore on a sandy
beach among the rocks. Nowhere in the world does the sea break more
violently than on that cruel, shelterless strand," etc. Now, the facts
disclosed by Cuellar's narrative, and by other contemporary writers,
show that these Spanish ships were not at all near to Ballyshannon; but
having been caught in the violent gales which were then raging round the
coast, they were disabled, and being at the best of times unwieldy and
difficult to steer, they drifted down from the north, and, failing to
double Erris Head, were drawn into Sligo Bay, where they anchored about
a mile and a half off shore, in the hope of being able to repair
damages, and, when the gales subsided, proceed on their homeward voyage.
Don Francisco Cuellar was captain of the _San Pedro_, a galleon of
twenty-four guns, which belonged to the squadron of Castile. The account
of Cuellar's adventures, as detailed by himself, are related in the
letter to which reference has been made. This document was discovered in
the archives of the _Academia de la Historia_, in Madrid, where it had
lain in oblivion for three centuries. Passing over the first part of the
letter, which relates his adventures in the _San Pedro_, which sustained
great damage in an engagement with English vessels off the coast of
France, being in a leaky and unseaworthy condition, owing to the number
of "shot holes," the _San Pedro_, by order of the mate (Cuellar having
retired to take some rest after the fight), moved a short distance away
from the Admiral's ship, for the purpose of carrying out some repairs to
the damaged hull. This action on the part of the _San Pedro_ raised the
anger of the Admiral, who ordered Cuellar and another officer to be
hanged at the yard's arm. Fortunately for Cuellar this unjust sentence
was not carried out in his case, chiefly through the friendly offices of
the Judge Advocate--Martin de Aranda.
But Cuellar was no longer left in command of the _San Pedro_: he
henceforward sailed in the vessel of the Judge Advocate, who was also
styled Provost Marshal. Having passed round the north coast of Scotland,
the vessel in which Cuellar was, in company with two other ships--all of
large tonnage--encountered head winds and rough weather. Passing Tory
Island, they were endeavouring to clear Erris Head on the Mayo coast;
but the storms increasing, and the sea running high, they were unable to
make that point. With shattered spars and torn canvas, and a weight of
water in their holds, which the constant working of the pumps could
hardly keep under, these vessels in a rough sea were unmanageable, and,
drifting downwards, found themselves enbayed off the Sligo coast, where
they hoped to find temporary anchorage. In the sailing instructions
given by the Duke of Medina to the Spanish vessels on their return home,
the following occurs: "The course that is first to be held is to the
north-north-east, until you be found under 61 degrees and a half, and
then to take great heed lest you fall upon the Island of Ireland, for
fear of the harm that may happen unto you upon that coast. Then parting
from those islands, and doubling the Cape in 61½ degrees, you shall
run west-south-west, until you be found under 58 degrees, and from
thence to the south-west," etc. These particulars are valuable in
showing the direction in which the Spaniards endeavoured to navigate
their unwieldy craft. Captain Duro in his book refers to the frequency
of the opening of the seams in the old Spanish ships, which defect he
attributes to the excessive weight and height of the masts, whose
leverage in heavy weather caused a strain on the hulls which
necessitated the constant employment of caulkers.
[Illustration:
_A Map of the West and North West Coasts of Ireland,
Drawn in 1609. From the original in the British Museum
showing the places connected with the Spanish Armada._
]
Cuellar says they anchored half a league from the shore, where they
remained "four days without being able to make any provision or do
anything. On the fifth day there sprang up such a great storm," he
says, "on our beam, with a sea up to the heavens, so that the cables
could not hold, nor the sails serve us, and we were driven ashore upon
a beach covered with very fine sand, shut in on one side and the other
by great rocks. Such a thing was never seen; for within the space of
an hour all three ships were broken in pieces, so that there did not
escape 300 men, and more than 1,000 were drowned, and amongst them
many persons of importance--captains, gentlemen, and other officials."
Of the three vessels which were wrecked on the Streedagh Strand--(in a
map of the coast, made in 1609, the rock, which is still called
_Carrig-na-Spaniagh_, is thus marked: "Three Spanish shipps here cast
ashore in Anno Domi, 1588")--the name of one was the _San Juan de
Sicilia_. She was commanded by Don Diego Enriquez, "the Hunchback."
This officer, as Cuellar relates, came to his death in a sad way.
Fearing the very heavy sea that was washing over the deck of his vessel,
which was going to pieces on the strand, he ordered out his large boat,
a decked one, and, accompanied by the Count of Villa Franca, and two
other Portuguese gentlemen, they closed themselves into the hold of the
boat, hoping to be washed ashore. Having gone below, and bringing with
them sixteen thousand ducats in jewels and crown pieces, they ordered
the hatchway to be tightly fastened down, in order to prevent the
ingress of water; but just as the boat was leaving the disabled ship,
more than seventy men, terror-stricken with the fate that awaited them,
wildly jumped on the deck of the boat, hoping thereby to reach the land;
but the small craft, unable to bear the great weight above water-line,
and having been struck by a wave, toppled over and sank, all on deck
being swept away. She afterwards rose to the surface, and was drifted
about in different directions, ultimately reaching the shore upside
down. Those unfortunates who were below were all killed, with the
exception of Don Diego Enriquez, who, after being in such a sad
condition for more than twenty-four hours, was found still living when
the hold was broken into by the "savages" who were searching for
plunder. They took out the dead men, and Don Diego, who only survived a
few minutes; and, having secured the plunder--jewels and money--left the
dead stripped and naked on the strand, denying them even the rights of
Christian burial! Cuellar, though in great extremities, was not
unmindful of the kindness he had received from the Judge Advocate,
Martin de Aranda. "One touch of nature makes the whole world kin."
Cuellar, the deposed captain, and the Judge Advocate, were standing on
the same deck, with the horrors of death facing them on all sides.
Martin de Aranda, seeing the destruction of all that was dear to him,
had little energy left to make any effort to escape; but Cuellar
endeavoured to rally his drooping spirits, and made every effort he
could to help him, and bring him to shore. Taking a hatchway from the
deck of the vessel they were in, Cuellar got it afloat, and succeeded in
getting the Judge Advocate on also; but in the act of casting off from
the ship, a huge wave engulphed them, and the Judge Advocate, being
unable to hold on, was drowned. Cuellar, grievously wounded by being
struck by pieces of floating timber, succeeded in keeping his footing on
the hatchway, and at length reached the shore, "unable to stand, all
covered with blood, and very much injured."[1]
Fenton, writing to Burleigh (_State Papers_, 1588-9), says: "At my late
being in Sligo, I found both by view of eye and credible report that the
number of ships and men perished at these coasts was more than was
advertised thither by the Lord Deputy and Council, for I numbered in one
strand [Streedagh], of less than five miles in length, eleven hundred
dead corpses of men which the sea had driven on the shore. Since the
time of the advertisement, the country people told me the like was in
other places, though not of like numbers; and the Lord Deputy, writing
to the Council, says: 'After leaving Sligo, I journeyed towards Bundroys
[Bundrowse] and so to Ballyshannon, the uttermost part of Connaught that
way, and riding still along the sea-shore, I went to see the bay where
some of these ships were wrecked, and where, as I heard not long before,
lay twelve or thirteen hundred of the dead bodies. I rode along that
strand near two miles (but left behind me a long mile and more), and
then turned off that shore; in both which places, they said that had
seen it, there lay as great store of timber of wrecked ships as was in
that place which myself had viewed, being in my opinion (having small
skill or judgment therein) more than would have built _four_ of the
greatest ships I ever saw, beside mighty great boats, cables, and other
cordage answerable thereto, and such masts, for bigness and length, as
in my knowledge I never saw any two that could make the like.'"
The account given by the Lord Deputy of his journey from Sligo to
Ballyshannon, though rather obscurely worded, points to the probability
of there having been more than one spot on that coast which was a scene
of disaster. It is evident that the entire shore from Streedagh to
Bundrowse was littered with the wreckage of the Spanish vessels, and it
could hardly be expected that all the "flotsam and jetsam" referred to
in the report we have quoted would have come from the three vessels
described by Cuellar.
To return to the narrative. Cuellar now found himself in a desperate
plight; wounded, half-naked, and starving with hunger, he managed to
creep into a place of concealment during the remainder of the day; and
he says: "At the dawn of day I began to walk little by little, searching
for a monastery of monks that I might repair to it as best I could, the
which I arrived at with much trouble and toil, and I found it deserted,
and the church and images of the Saints burned and completely ruined,
and twelve Spaniards hanging within the church by the act of the English
Lutherans, who went about searching for us to make an end of all of us
who had escaped from the perils of the sea." Some writers on this
shipwreck have been unable to explain this reference to a monastery in
the vicinity of the sea-shore at Streedagh. No such difficulty, however,
exists in identifying the place indicated; for within sight of the
strand stood the _Abbey of Staad_, which tradition says was founded by
St. Molaise, the patron saint of the neighbouring island of Inismurray.
It was then to this monastery that Cuellar repaired, in the expectation
of finding there a safe asylum in his dire necessity. He was, however,
disappointed; for he found the place deserted, and several of his
fellow-countrymen hanging from the iron bars of the windows. The ruins
of Staad Abbey, which still remain, are inconsiderable, consisting of
portions of the church, which was oblong in form, and measured,
internally, 34 feet in length by 14 feet 5 inches in width. There are
indications that a much older building once occupied the site of the
existing ruin. Outside the walls of the old church it was customary to
light beacons for the purpose of signalling with the inhabitants of
Inismurray and elsewhere, and this mode of communication by fire-signals
was adopted in Ireland from remote times, and its existence amongst us
to the present day is an interesting survival of primitive life.
Cuellar, sick at heart with the ghastly spectacle in the monastery,
betook himself to a road "which lay through a great wood," and after
wandering about without being able to procure any food, he turned his
face once more to the sea-shore, in the hope of being able to pick up
some provisions that might have been washed in from the wrecks. Here he
found, stretched on the strand in one spot, more than 400 Spaniards, and
amongst them he recognised _Don Enriquez_ and another honoured officer.
He dug a hole in the sand and buried his two friends. After some time he
was joined by two other Spaniards. They met a man who seemed rather
friendly towards them. He directed them to take a road which led from
the coast to a village, which Cuellar describes as "consisting of some
huts of straw." This was probably the village of Grange, a couple of
miles distant; and the huts he refers to were the cabins with thatched
roofs, still a common feature in the country. From descriptions of
these, which are given by writers of the 16th century, there seems to be
but slight difference in the mode of constructing cabins then and now.
At Grange was a castle in which soldiers were stationed. It was an
important outpost at the period, being on the highway between Connacht
and Tirconnell. From this castle, bodies of soldiers used to sally
forth, scouring the neighbourhood for Spanish fugitives and plunder.
Fearing these military scouts, Cuellar turned off from the village, and
entered a wood, in which he had not gone far when a new misfortune befel
him. He was set upon by an "old savage," more than seventy years of age,
and by two young men--one English, the other French. They wounded him in
the leg, and stripped him of what little clothing was left to him. They
took from him a gold chain of the value of a thousand reals; also
forty-five gold crown pieces he had sewed into his clothing, and some
relics that had been given him at Lisbon. But for the interference of a
young girl, whom Cuellar describes as of the age of twenty, "and most
beautiful in the extreme," it would have gone hard with him in the hands
of these men. Having robbed him of all he had, they went on their way in
search of further prey, and the young girl, pitying the sad condition of
the Spaniard, made a salve of herbs for his wounds, and gave him butter
and milk, with oaten bread to eat.
Cuellar was directed to travel in the direction of some mountains, which
appeared to be about six leagues distant, behind which there were good
lands belonging to an "important savage," a very great friend of the
King of Spain. The distances in leagues and miles given in the narrative
are in most cases considerably over-estimated, and cannot be relied on.
Cuellar, it should be remembered, is describing events which happened to
him in a strange country, wherein the names of the places, and the
distances from place to place, were alike unknown to him; and the
journeys he was forced to make, in his lame and wretched condition, must
have seemed to him very much longer than they were in reality. A right
understanding of this part of the narrative is important, as some
writers have fallen into the error of supposing that Cuellar's course
was in the direction of the _Donegal_ Mountains, on the other side of
the bay, visible, no doubt, from the locality of the wreck, but on the
distant northern horizon. A careful reading of the text will show that
this was not the direction he took. He says: "I began to walk as best I
could, making for the north[2] of the mountains, as the boy had told
me." This means that he kept on the _north_, or sea-side of the _Dartry_
Mountains; and behind them (_i.e._, on the _south_ side) were good lands
belonging to a friendly chief. The word "north" does not here refer to
the cardinal point, but is used merely as a relative term, just as
"right and left," "back and front," are used in familiar conversation.
Besides, Cuellar plainly states the name of the chief he was seeking to
reach: he speaks of him as "Senior de Ruerque" (Spanish for
_O'Rourque_), whose territory lay in the direction of the mountain range
he was travelling towards. He calls him an "important savage"--a term
which he applies to the Irish natives he met with, whether friendly or
the reverse: it does not refer to their treatment of him personally; but
he intends it to define what he considers their position in the scale of
civilization as compared with his own country. Journeying on in the
direction pointed out to him, he came to a lake, in the vicinity of
which were about thirty huts--all forsaken and untenanted. Going into one
of these for shelter, he discovered three other naked men--Spaniards--who
had met the same hard treatment as himself. The only food they could
obtain here was blackberries and water-cresses. Covering themselves up
with some straw, they passed the night in a hut by the lake-side,
resolving at daybreak to push forward towards O'Rourke's village.
The lake to which reference is here made is evidently Glenade Lough,
from which it was an easy journey to O'Rourke's settlement at Glencar.
O'Rourke had another "town" at _Newtown_, on the borders of the County
of Sligo. It seems probable, however, that at this time he had removed
his people to Glencar. In the Lough here were several crannogs, remains
of which are still visible. Such lacustrine habitations were usually
resorted to by the Irish chiefs in times of disturbance; for within
their stockaded lake-dwellings they and their possessions were safest
from the attack of the enemy. Having arrived at "the village," Cuellar
found the chief absent, being at war with the English, who were at the
time in occupation of Sligo. Here he found a number of Spaniards. Before
many days passed, tidings came that a Spanish ship, probably one of De
Leyva's vessels, was standing off the coast, and on the look-out for any
Spaniards who had escaped with their lives. Hearing this, Cuellar and
nineteen others resolved to make an effort to reach the vessel. They,
therefore, set off at once towards the coast. They met with many
hindrances on the way; and Cuellar, probably owing to the wounded state
of his leg, was unable to keep pace with the others, and was
consequently left behind, while the others got on board the vessel. He
regards this circumstance of his being left behind as a special
interference of Providence on his behalf, for the ship, after setting
sail, was, he says, "wrecked off the same coast, and more than 200
persons were drowned."
Resuming the course of Cuellar's fortunes, we find him pursuing his way
by the most secluded routes for fear of the "Sassana horsemen," as he
styles the English soldiers. He soon fell in with a clergyman, who
entered into friendly converse with him in the Latin tongue--a language,
it may be observed, that did not at that period in Ireland rank as a
"dead" one--men and women of various degrees, both high and low, spoke it
freely; of this there is abundant evidence from contemporary writers.
The clergyman gave Cuellar some of the food he had with him, and
directed him to take a road which would bring him to a castle which
belonged to a "savage" gentleman, "a very brave soldier, and a great
enemy of the Queen of England--a man who had never cared to obey her or
pay tribute, attending only to his castle and mountains, which [latter]
made it strong." Following the course pointed out to him, Cuellar met
with an untoward circumstance which caused him much anxiety; he was met
by a blacksmith who pursued his calling in a "deserted valley." Here he
was forced to abide, and work in the forge. For more than a week he (the
Spanish officer) had to blow the forge bellows, and, what was worse,
submit to the rough words of the blacksmith's wife, whom he calls "an
accursed old woman." At length, his friend the clergyman happened again
to pass that way, and seeing Cuellar labouring in the forge, he was
displeased. He comforted him, assuring him he would speak to the chief
of the castle to which he had directed him, and ask that an escort
should be sent for him. The following day this promise was fulfilled,
and four men from the castle, and a Spanish soldier who had already
found his way thither, arrived, and safely conducted him on his way.
Here he seems at last to have found kind and humane treatment. He
specially mentions the extreme kindness shown him by the chief's wife,
whom he describes as "beautiful in the extreme."
Cuellar, in taking the course pointed out to him by the clergyman, was
travelling in an eastward direction, having his back turned on
O'Rourke's village, whither he had first gone for succour. The "deserted
valley," in which he fell in with the blacksmith, was doubtless the
beautiful valley of Glenade, from which place to the island castle of
Rossclogher was an easy journey. As this castle is a prominent feature
in our narrative, some particulars regarding it and its chiefs may be
here noted.
The castle of Rossclogher, the picturesque ruins of which are still
prominent in the beautiful scenery of Lough Melvin, was built by one of
the clan, at a period--precise date not known--anterior to the reign of
Henry VIII. In the _Irish Annals_ the name of MacClancy, chief of
Dartraigh, appears at A.D. 1241. The territory was held by the family
for three hundred years, their property having been finally confiscated
after the wars of 1641. The castle lies close to the southern shore of
Lough Melvin, considerably to the westward of the island of Inisheher
(see Ordnance Map). It is a peculiar structure, being built on an
artificial foundation, somewhat similar to the "Hag's Castle" in Lough
Mask, and to Cloughoughter Castle in the neighbouring county of Cavan.
Here may be noted a striking instance of the accuracy and
appropriateness of Irish names of places. When the island of Inisheher
(Inis Siar), _i.e._, western island, got its name, the site of
Rossclogher Castle had not been laid, for where the castle stands is
considerably further west than the last natural island, which, from its
name, marks it as the most westerly island of the lough.
The Irish name of this family was _MacFhlnncdaha_, the name being
variously written in the _State Papers_ as McGlannogh, McGlanthie, etc.,
while in the Spanish narrative it is _Manglana_. In a map drawn in 1609,
the territory is marked "Dartrie MacGlannagh" (which see). The
MacClancys were chiefs, subject to O'Rourke, and their territory--a
formidable one, by reason of its mountains and fastnesses--comprised the
entire of the present barony of Rossclogher. According to local
tradition, which survived when O'Donovan visited the district in the
summer of 1836[3], the extent of "Dartree MacClancy" was from _Glack_
townland on the east to _Bunduff_ on the west--a distance of about six
miles; and from _Mullinaleck_ townland on the north to _Aghanlish_ on
the south--a distance of about three miles. The townlands of Rossfriar
(Ross-na-mbraher, _i.e._, the Peninsula of the Friars), and that now
called Aghanlish, were ancient _termon lands_ appertaining to the church
of Rossclogher, the ruins of which stand on the mainland, close to the
island castle of our narrative. The romantic and beautiful district over
which the MacClancys held sway included _Lough Melvin_, with its islands
and the mountain range behind. Within its bounds were two castles--that
of Rossclogher and _Dun Carbery_. On the island of _Iniskeen_ was
MacClancy's crannog; and here it may be pointed out a frequent error has
been made in supposing that the Castle of Rossclogher stood on Iniskeen.
The crannog was on that large island which is far to the east of the
Castle of Rossclogher. This was merely used in troublous times as a
place of security--a sort of treasure-house; but not an ordinary
dwelling-place. Besides the buildings already mentioned within the
territory, were at least three monasteries--that of Doire-Melle,
Cacair-Sinchill, and Beallach-in-Mithidheim--as well as numerous
churches, the ruins of some being still in existence. The MacClancy clan
appear to have sprung from a stock totally distinct from the
neighbouring clans of Brefney. Their chief residence was at Rossclogher,
but they had another castle--that of Dun Carbery--some ruins of which are
still standing close to the village of Tullaghan. This was built in the
sixteenth century, and a more commanding site for a fortified house it
would have been difficult to select. It was built on the summit of an
extensive _Dun_, or fort, which belonged to a period long anterior to
the MacClancy rule; and it is a noticeable fact that the name of the
original owner of the _Dun Carbery_, son of Niall of the Nine Hostages
(fifth century), has continued to the present day as the name by which
the castle is known.
The Castle of Rossclogher is built on a foundation of heavy stones laid
in the bed of the lake, and filled in with smaller stones and earth to
above water-level. The sub-structure was circular in form, and the
entire was encompassed by a thick wall, probably never more than five
feet in height. The walls of the castle are very thick, and composed of
freestone, obtained from an adjacent quarry on the mainland. They are
cemented together with the usual grouting of lime and coarse gravel, so
generally used by the builders of old; the outside walls were coated
with thick rough-cast, a feature not generally seen in old structures in
the locality. Facing the south shore, which is about one hundred yards
distant, are the remains of a bastion pierced for musketry. The water
between the castle and the shore is deep, and goes down sheer from the
foundation.
On the shore, close to the castle, are the remains of military
earthworks, evidently constructed by some enemy seeking possession of
the castle. On the summit of a hill immediately over this, is a circular
enclosure about 220 feet in circumference; it is composed of earth,
faced with stone-work. Here the MacClancy-clan folded their flocks and
herds, and from this ancient "cattle-booley" a bridle-path led to the
mountains above. Portions of this pathway have recently been discovered;
it was only two feet in width, and regularly paved with stones enclosed
by a kerb.
On the mainland, close to the southern shore, and within speaking
distance of the castle, stand the ruins of the old church which was
built by MacClancy, and which is of about the same date as the castle to
which it was an appendage. In the immediate neighbourhood of the shore,
guarded on one side by the lofty mountain range of Dartraigh, on the
other by the waters of Lough Melvin, was MacClancy's "town"--an
assemblage of primitive huts, probably circular in shape, and of the
simplest construction, where dwelt the followers and dependents of the
chief, ready, by night or by day, to obey the call to arms, or, as
Cuellar expresses it, "Go Santiago," a slang expression in Spain,
meaning to attack.[4]
Of the manners and customs of the natives, Cuellar makes sundry
observations. Having described at length how he occupied his leisure in
the castle by telling the fortunes of the ladies by palmistry, he
mentions incidentally that their conversation was carried on in Latin.
He goes on to speak of the natives, or "savages," as he calls them. He
says: "Their custom is to live as the brute beasts among the mountains,
which are very rugged in that part of Ireland where we lost ourselves.
They live in huts made of straw; the men are all large bodied and of
handsome features and limbs, active as the roe-deer. They do not eat
oftener than once a day, and this is at night; and that which they
usually eat is butter with oaten bread. They drink sour milk, for they
have no other drink; they don't drink water, although it is the best in
the world. On feast days they eat some flesh, half-cooked, without bread
or salt, for that is their custom. They clothe themselves, according to
their habit, with tight trousers and short loose coats of very coarse
goat's hair. They cover themselves with blankets, and wear their hair
down to their eyes. They are great walkers, and inured to toil. They
carry on perpetual war with the English, who here keep garrison for the
Queen, from whom they defend themselves, and do not let them enter their
territory, which is subject to inundation and marshy."
The reference Cuellar makes to the food of the Irish with whom he
sojourned is interesting. He says: "They do not eat oftener than once a
day, and this is at night, and that which they usually eat is butter
with _oaten bread_." The partiality for oaten bread here spoken of still
survives; but its use has within the last half century greatly declined,
owing to the extensive introduction of "white bread," the term applied
to ordinary bakers' loaves. When the tide of emigration to America--in
the early part of this century--was in full flow from Ballyshannon, the
emigrants had to provide their own food on the voyage from this port to
the Western Continent, and that universally taken with them was an ample
supply of oaten cakes. It may not be out of place here to refer to the
curious belief which still lives in the minds of the peasantry of this
district, though, like most of the survivals of folklore, it is fading
from the memories of the people.
The _Feàr-Gortha_, or Hungry Grass, is believed to grow in certain
spots, and whoever has the bad luck to tread on this baneful fairy herb
is liable to be stricken down with the mysterious complaint. The
symptoms, which come on suddenly, are complete prostration, preceded by
a general feeling of weakness; the sufferer sinks down, and, if
assistance is not at hand, he perishes. It is believed that if food be
partaken of in the open air, and the fragments remaining be not thrown
as an offering to the "good folk," that they will mark their displeasure
by causing a crop of "hungry grass" to arise on the spot and produce the
effects described. Fortunately, the cure is as simple as the malady is
mysterious. _Oatcake_ is the specific, or, in its absence, a few grains
of oatmeal. The wary traveller who knows the dangers of the road,
carries in his pocket a small piece of oatcake, not intended as food,
but as a charm against the _Feàr-Gortha_.
Cuellar also observes that the chief inclination of these people is to
plunder their neighbours, capturing cattle and any other property
obtainable, the raids being chiefly carried out at night. He also
remarks that the English garrison were in the habit of making plundering
expeditions into the territory of these natives, and the only refuge
they had was, on the approach of the soldiers, to withdraw to the
mountains with their families and cattle till the danger would be past.
Speaking of the women, he says: "Most of them are very beautiful, but
badly-dressed. The head-dress of the women is a linen cloth, doubled
over the head and tied in front." He remarks "the women are great
workers and housekeepers, after their fashion." Speaking of the
churches, etc., he says most of them have been demolished by the hands
of the English, and by those natives who have joined them, who are as
bad as they. He concludes his by-no-means flattering description in
these words: "In this kingdom there is neither justice nor right, and
everyone does what he pleases."
The "sour milk" Cuellar speaks of is buttermilk, as great a favourite
here in the nineteenth century as in the sixteenth. The cloth which he
calls "very coarse goats' hair" was probably the familiar homespun
woollen frieze, which from the earliest times was made by the Irish. The
head-dress of the women--a linen cloth--is still adopted by elderly women
here.
After enjoying a short period of rest in MacClancy's, or, as Cuellar
styles it, Manglana's castle, rumours of an alarming nature reached
them. The Lord Deputy Fitzwilliam, or, as he is called in the narrative,
"the great governor of the Queen," was marching from Dublin, with a
force of 1,700 soldiers, in search of the lost ships and the people who
had escaped the fury of the waves, and no quarter could be expected for
either the Irish chiefs or the shipwrecked Spaniards; all that came
within Fitzwilliam's grasp would certainly be hanged. Cuellar says the
Lord Deputy marched along the whole coast till he arrived at the place
where the shipwreck happened (at Streedagh), and from thence he came
towards the castle of "Manglana." It is at this point of his narrative
that he first mentions the name of the chief who had given him refuge.
MacClancy seeing the force that had come against him, felt himself
unable to stand a siege, and decided to escape to the friendly shelter
of his mountains. He called Cuellar aside and made known his
determination, and advised that he and the other Spaniards should
consider what they would do for their own safety. Cuellar consulted with
his fellows, and they finally agreed that their only chance of life was
to hold out in the castle as long as possible, trusting to its strength
and isolated situation; and, leaving the result to the fortunes of war,
they determined to stand or fall together.
Having communicated their decision to MacClancy, he willingly provided
them with all the arms within his reach, and a sufficient store of
provisions to last for six months. He made them take an oath to hold the
castle "till death," and not to open the gates for "Irishman, Spaniard,
or anyone else till his return." Having made these preparations, and
removed the furniture and relics out of the church on the shore, and
deposited them within the castle, MacClancy, after embracing Cuellar,
withdrew to the mountains, taking with him his family and followers,
with their flocks and herds. Cuellar now provided himself with several
boat-loads of stones, six muskets, and six crowbars, as well as a supply
of ammunition. He gives a minute description of the place he was going
to defend. He says: "The castle is very strong and very difficult to
take, if they do not attack it with artillery, for it is founded in a
lake of very deep water, which is more than a league wide at some parts,
and three or four leagues long, and has an outlet to the sea; and
besides, with the rise of spring tides, it is not possible to enter it;
for which reason the castle could not be taken by water, nor by the
shore of land which is nearest it, neither could injury be done it,
because a league around the 'town,' which is established on the
mainland, it is marshy, breast deep, so that even the inhabitants
[natives] could not get to it except by paths." These paths, through
bogs and shallow lakes, were made of large stones in a hidden, irregular
way, unknown to any except those who had the key to their position.
Three centuries ago, the aspect of the country was very different from
what it now is: the land was in a swampy, undrained condition, and,
beyond small patches here and there, which had been cleared for growing
corn, dense thickets of brushwood covered the surface everywhere; and,
as there were no roads or bridges, but merely narrow paths, where two
horsemen could not pass each other, the difficulty--not to say
impossibility--of bringing troops, heavy baggage, and artillery across
country is apparent. That such a state of things existed in MacClancy's
territory there is abundant evidence. The stones with which Cuellar
provided himself were a favourite item in the war materials of that
period: these were used with deadly effect from the towers of castles,
and were also thrown from cannon instead of iron balls. Cuellar says:
"Our courage seemed good to the whole country, and the enemy was very
indignant at it, and came upon the castle with his forces--about 1,800
men--and observed us from a distance of a mile and a half from it,
without being able to approach closer on account of the water [or marshy
ground] which intervened." From this description, it is evident the Lord
Deputy's forces had taken up their position on the shore of the opposite
promontory of Rossfriar--a tongue of land which projects itself into the
lough at the north-west end. From this point he says they exhibited
"menaces and warnings," and hanged two Spanish fugitives they had laid
hold of, "to put the defenders in fear." The troops demanded by trumpet
a surrender of the castle, but the Spaniards declined all proposals. For
seventeen days, Cuellar says, the besiegers lay against them, but were
unable to get a favourable position for attack. "At length, a severe
storm and a great fall of snow compelled them to withdraw without having
accomplished anything." In the _State Papers_, under date 12th October,
1588, the Lord Deputy asks the Privy Council of England to send at once
two thousand "sufficient and thoroughly appointed men" to join the
service directed against the main body of 3,000 Spaniards in O'Donnell's
country and the North. In the same month, Fenton writes to the Lord
Deputy "that the Spaniards are marching towards Sligo, and are very near
Lough Erne." There were, no doubt, a large number of Spaniards who had
escaped the dangers of the sea, and had fled for refuge to O'Donnell,
O'Neill, and O'Rourke, all of whom were very favourable to them; but the
Lord Deputy, for his own ends, greatly exaggerated both their numbers
and strength. They were merely fugitives acting on the defensive, and
not then inclined to be aggressive. They well knew the fate of hundreds
of their countrymen, and what they might expect if they fell into the
hands of the Lord Deputy.
[Illustration:
THE SPANIARDS HOLDING ROSSCLOGHER
CASTLE AGAINST THE LORD DEPUTY.
]
In the County of Clare, at this time, was another MacClancy--Boethius. He
was Elizabeth's High Sheriff there, and, unlike his namesake of
Rossclogher, he cruelly treated and killed a number of Spaniards of the
Armada, who had been shipwrecked off that coast. In memory of his
conduct then, he is cursed every seventh year in a church in Spain. In
the _State Papers_ no reference is made to this expedition against
MacClancy's castle; all that is said is that troops arrived at Athlone
on 10th November, 1588, and returned to Dublin on 23rd December
following, "without loss of any one of her Majesty's army; neither
brought I home, as the captains inform me, scarce twenty sick persons or
thereabouts; neither found I the water, nor other great impediments
which were objected before my going out, to have been dangerous,
otherwise than very reasonable to pass." In these vague terms
Fitzwilliam disposes of a disagreeable subject which he knew was more
for his own credit not to enlarge upon. It seems probable that Cuellar
has over-estimated the number of soldiers sent to storm the castle which
he was defending; there is, however, no ground for doubting the general
truth of his account of the transaction. MacClancy, we know, was the
subject of peculiar hatred by the authorities; Bingham describes him as
"an arch-rebel, and the most barbarous creature in Ireland," and the
fact of his having given shelter to Spanish fugitives made him ten times
worse in their eyes.
_Fitzwilliam_, the Lord Deputy, whom Cuellar styles the "Great
Governor," was a covetous and merciless man. Not long after his arrival
in Ireland, the Spanish shipwrecks took place, and the rumours of the
great amount of treasure and valuables which the Spaniards were reported
to have with them called into prominence the most marked feature in the
Lord Deputy's character--cupidity. His commission shows this: "To make by
all good means, both of oaths and _otherwise_ [this means _by torture_],
to take all hulls of ships, treasures, etc., into your hands, and to
apprehend and execute all Spaniards of what quality soever ... torture
may be used in prosecuting this enquiry."
In the _State Papers_, at December 3, 1588--Sir R. Bingham to the
Queen--the following reference to the Lord Deputy's expedition to the
North of Ireland is made: "But the Lord Deputy, having further
advertisements from the North of the state of things in those parts,
took occasion to make a journey thither, and made his way through this
province [Connaught], and in passing along caused both these two
Spaniards, which my brother [George Bingham] had, to be executed." One
of these was Don Graveillo de Swasso. At December 31st, the Lord Deputy
thus refers to his movements: "At my coming to the Castles of
Ballyshannon and Beleek, which stand upon the river Earne, and are in
possession of one Sir Owen O'Toole, _alias_ O'Gallagher[5], a principal
man of that country, I found all the country [people] and cattle fled
into the strong mountains and fastnesses of the woods in their own
countrie and neighbours adjoining, as O'Rourke, O'Hara, the
O'Glannaghies [MacClancy], Maguires, and others." In the _State Papers_,
15th October, 1588, we learn some curious particulars concerning the
wreck of one of the Spanish ships, named _La Trinidad Valencera_, at
Inisowen (O'Doherty's country). This vessel, which was a very large one
(1,100 tons), carried 42 guns and 360 men, including soldiers and
mariners, many of whom were drowned. They had only one boat left, and
this a broken one, in which they succeeded in landing a part of the
crew. Some swam to shore, and the rest were landed in a boat they bought
from the Inisowen men for 200 ducats. Some curious details are given of
how the Spaniards fared on land. When first they came ashore, with only
their rapiers in their hands, they found four or five "savages," who
bade them welcome, and well-used them: afterwards, some twenty more
"wild men" came to them, and robbed them of a money-bag containing 1,000
reals of plate and some rich apparel. The only food they could obtain
was horse-flesh, which they bought from the country people, as well as a
small quantity of butter. When they had been about a week living here,
Fitzwilliam's men came on the scene, as also O'Donnell and his wife. The
Spaniards surrendered to the captains that carried "the Queen's
ensigns," the conditions being that their lives should be spared till
they appeared before the Lord Deputy, and be allowed to take with them a
change of apparel from the stores of their own ship. These conditions
were not adhered to, and the soldiers and natives were allowed to spoil
and plunder the shipwrecked Spaniards. The O'Donnell above referred to
was the father of the celebrated Red Hugh, who was at this period within
the walls of Dublin Castle, a close prisoner. "O'Donnell's wife" was the
celebrated Ineen Dubh, the mother of Red Hugh. O'Donnell felt himself
weak and unable to cope with the English power, which was surrounding
him on all sides. While not taking an active part in maltreating the
Spaniards, who had been thrown on his territory by the violence of the
storms, he was guilty in a passive way of permitting them to be
ill-used; and when, a short time after these events, he resigned the
government of Tirconnell to the more capable hands of his son, Red Hugh,
and retired to the solitude of the cloister, the greatest sin which
weighed on his conscience was his cruel conduct in slaying a number of
Spanish seamen in Inisowen, which act was instigated by the Lord Deputy.