like an honourable man, declared his intentions to her brother. Sir Henry, on hearing the proposal, raised some foolish difficulties about the incivility of the earl's country, as though there were no lordly halls in Dungannon, sweet-sounding harps, tender matrons, whitebosomed maidens, blooming gardens, and genial hearts, in all Tyrone, but his real objection was, to part with the lady's dowry of one thousand pounds, which he held in trust. Tyrone arranged to settle a large jointure on Mabel, and she, dear creature, had made up her mind to marry him, with or without her churlish brother's consent. Finding that his sister had set her heart upon the earl, Sir Henry refused to allow the nuptial ceremony to take place till he had received letters from Queen Elizabeth's cabinet sanctioning the project, and in the meanwhile he caused Mabel to be removed from the castle of Newry, to Turvey, some eight or nine miles north of Dublin, the residence of Sir Patrick Barnwell, to whom her sister was married. How it fared with the marshal's application to the queen's ministers I never heard, but 'tis quite certain that Mabel's removal to her sister's mansion did not realise her brother's intent; quite otherwise indeed, for the earl followed her to Turvey, and employed all his persuasive eloquence to obtain Lady Barnwell's consent to the match, and I need hardly say that she was little loath to see her fair sister mated with one whose ancestry, chivalry, and wide domains, entitled him to the hand and heart of the most nobly-born dame in Christendom. Sir Patrick Barnwell gave willing ear to his pleading, and as for Mabel, such was the vehemence of her love, that she then and there solemnly trothed herself to Tyrone, who presented her with a chain of gold, as a symbol of that union in which their hearts were to be linked for evermore. The "trouthal" took place early in July, (1591,) and towards the close of that month the earl, accompanied by a gay retinue of English gentlemen, went to dine at Turvey, where their host made them good entertainment, and where it had been previously arranged that Mabel should bide her opportanity, and leave the mansion with a gentleman who came in Tyrone's suite. And in good faith she was true to her word; for after dinner, when the guests were betaking themselves to various games, she mounted on horseback, behind the earl's friend, who, followed by two serving-men, never drew bridle till they arrived at the house of a Mr. Warren, who lived at Drumcondra, within a mile of Dublin. As soon as the earl ascertained that his "prey" (I use his own word) was well forward on her road to the place agreed upon, he too mounted his horse, and accompanied by his English friends, spurred hard after his lady-love. There was now no time to be lost in solemnising the nuptials, and the earl despatched a messenger to Jones, the queen's bishop of Meath, who happened to be in Dublin at that moment, praying him to hasten without delay to Warren's house, where his presence was urgently needed. The bishop, for aught I know, may have imagined that Tyrone was about to renounce his faith; but if any such idea haunted his mind, it was soon removed, when,

on entering the house, he found arrangements made for a wedding, and the fair bride in a noble apartment, attended by a considerable number of English ladies and gentlemen. 'My lord,' said the earl, 'I have invited you hither to marry myself and this gentlewoman, to whom I was betrothed about twenty days ago, and I am desirous that rather you than any other should perform the office between us, that the world may know we are married according to her Majesty's laws.' 'What you require from me,' replied the bishop, ' is a matter of great importance, and you must first permit me to confer with the gentlewoman herself;' and with this he took Mabel aside, and demanded of her whether she had plighted her troth to the earl. To this she answered, that she had done so twenty days before, and that she had received from him a gold chain worth a hundred pounds, as a token. To the question whether she had come away voluntarily from Turvey, she replied, that she had done so of her own free consent;' and finally, when interrogated whether she was resolved to take the earl to her husband?' she answered, My lord, you see in what case I am, how I came hither with mine own consent, and have already promised the earl to be his wife; I beseech you, therefore, for my credit's sake, to perfect the marriage between us, the sooner the better, for my honour's sake.' Satisfied with the examination, the bishop remarked that it barely remained for him to perfect 'the knot that themselves had already knytt,' and he instantly solemnized the marriage according to her majesty's laws. The merry-makings on this occasion lasted four or five days, and I need not tell you that such revel was never before witnessed in Drumcondra. At its conclusion the earl hastened back to the north with his young bride, and Mabel was now Countess of green Tyrone.

"But how am I to describe Sir Henry Bagnal's conduct when he was certified of his sister's marriage? He stormed and vapoured like a very madman, accursing himself,' (in a letter to Burghley, the lord treasurer,) 'that his father's blood and his own, which had been often spilled in repressing this rebellious race, should now be mingled with so traitorous a stock and kindred!' and not satisfied with this, he vented his rage on Jones, his own countryman,* for celebrating the marriage. The bishop of Meath,' said he, 'participated in this villany, and by such like examples in men of his sort, God's word is greatly slandered, and many men in this kingdom, who, I think, would otherwise willingly embrace the truth, are brought into detestation of the gospel!' But he made a graver charge against him, for he asserted, as I have already told you, that Mabel's nuptials were solemnized while the earl's wife was still alive, and that he (the bishop) was aware of the impediment. Burghley, on receiving this intelligence, wro e by the Queen's orders, commanding Jones to account for his conduct; and the poor man, frightened out of his wits, replied, that he never was cognisant of any such 'barr,'

*He was a native of Lancashire, and was translated from Meath to the See of Dublin, 1605.

66

and that if he had had an inkling of it, he would not have done what he did, not even for the marshal's yearly revenue.' Thus was the unfortunate bishop involved in a very perplexing imbroglio, and what was still more ludicrous, a council of cabinet ministers bent all their energies to discover the truth or falsehood of the allegation against Tyrone. As for him, he satisfied Deputy Fitzwilliam that the accusation was grounded on an intimacy which he had formed, in the days of his hot youth, with the daughter of Sir Brian M'Phelim, from whom he was separated by order of the church, long before he married his late wife, the countess Judith, daughter of O'Donnell. The sentence invalidating the former connection on account of a diriment impediment, was duly registered by the officials of Armagh cathedral, who, when examined by the Deputy, produced the instrument signed and sealed, and furthermore declared, that by reason of said impediment, the church never could have sanctioned the sacramental union of the parties. Thus was the earl cleared of the charge which Sir Henry made on such loose information-a charge, indeed, which, to use Tyrone's words, was meant to discredit him, and to undo his wedded wife." Bagnal was utterly discomfited in his attempt to disgrace his own sister, and Burghley, the queen's favourite minister, pronounced that Tyrone had acted honourably in the transaction, when the latter wrote, that "if he had not been thoroughly cleared from the gentlewoman whom the marshal would now thrust upon him, he would not for any worldly goods have stained his credit and conscience by taking a second wife." I have now told you all that I know of Tyrone's marriage with Mabel Bagnal, but I should not omit mentioning that she became a Catholic, and lived to witness many a glorious victory wrested from the soldiers of her own race by her gallant husband. As for Sir Henry, his hatred of Tyrone grew more deadly as years sped onwards, so much so that he never could be induced to pay the dowry which he held in trust for Mabel. She died in 1596; and two and a half years afterwards her widowed lord and brother, at the head of their respective armies, confronted each other on the field of the Yellow Ford. Towards the close of that memorable action, Hugh, earl of Tyrone, or to speak more correctly, the O'Neill, leading a squadron of horse, pricked forward in the hope of encountering his brotherin-law; but they were not destined to meet. In the confusion of the bloody rout the marshal was in the act of raising his beaver, when a bullet pierced his brain, and thus deprived O'Neill of an opportunity of avenging with his own good sword the injuries and insults which long lay rankling in his heart. Happily for Mabel, she did not live to witness that day of fearful retribution!"

"Now let me hear how you have dealt with the memoranda I gave you of our Drogheda monastery."

"Would that the details were more copious," replied Father Purcell; "but such as they are, they will perpetuate the memory of that house." And he then read: "The Franciscan convent of Drogheda was founded

by the Plunkets, barons of Louth, in 1240, and not, as some have asserted, by the Darcys of Platten, for the progenitor of the latter family did not come to Ireland till 1323, when he was appointed Lord Justice by Edward II. The site of this venerable edifice (in the northern division of the town and diocese of Armagh) was extremely beautiful, being within the walls, and close to the quay where ships receive and discharge their cargoes. The land belonging to this convent extended, on the south, from the river's brink to a street on the declivity of the hill leading to St. Laurence street, and from a street on the west, near the quay to the city wall on the east. The ground bestowed on our convent outside the walls, comprised a spacious garden and orchard, east of the city, and our friars had a private gate which gave them access to both places. As for the buildings, they were very magnificent, and nothing could exceed the beauty of the bell-tower, which was of cut stone, lofty, and encrusted with marble. The church was very elegant, having a choir capable of accommodating two hundred friars. In the centre of the choir stood the monument of the Darcys of Platten, surmounted by a marble bust of John, the Lord Justice, who was one of our special benefactors, and whose posterity were all buried within the same precincts. The fact of this monument having been one of the most conspicuous objects in the church, led many to suppose that the Darcys were founders of the convent, but as I have already said, the Plunkets are entitled to that honor, although the Darcys frequently repaired the sacred edifice, and particularly the eastern window of the church, which was set in the city wall.

"Early in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, the Franciscans were violently extruded from their venerable convent, which was then leased to Gerald Aylmer, of Dollardstown, who, in the year 1612, sold the buildings, together with their appurtenances, to one Moses Hill, a mere adventurer, who came to Ireland a beggarman, and enriched himself with the plunder of many an honest man's homestead. This Hill was an implacable persecutor of the Catholics, and an ever-willing instrument in carrying out the detestable policy of King James the First, Intent upon his own aggrandisement, he spared no effort to add to his ill-got fortunes; and no sooner did a convent fall into his hands, than he began to remodel the entire structure, so as to accommodate it to the requirements of shop-keepers and others, from whom he exacted exorbitant rents. Father Baltassar Delahoyde, an aged ecclesiastic, and native of Drogheda, who for many years was vicar-general of the diocese of Armagh, informed me that he was an ocular witness of Hill's sacrilegious vandalism, and endeavours to derive an income from the tenants to whom he let the cloisters and infirmary (of the convent), which stood right upon the river's brink, but, strange to relate, the shopkeepers who settled there, instead of becoming rich, grew poor, and had to give up their holdings, thus bringing on themselves the curse pronounced upon those who turn the house of God into a place of chaffering and profane traffic.

Seeing that this speculation did not prosper, Hill resolved to pull down the whole edifice, and sell the cut stones of which it was built; but as he could not get any of the townspeople to carry out his wishes, he employed a number of strangers, at very high wages, to do his bidding. They commenced at the bell-tower, which, as I have already said, was a very beautiful object, but the first stone that was disturbed fell within a few inches of one of the masons, which so terrified their fellows that they were all scared away, and refused to continue the work of demolition. A second attempt to destroy the bell-tower was equally unsuccessful; but in the meanwhile Hill had pulled down the infirmary and the guest-house, with a view, as I have heard, of erecting on their site a mansion for Sir Arthur Chichester, who was then Lord Deputy, in 1614. Chichester approved the project, for he liked the locality, but being suddenly recalled to England, and replaced by Jones, the king's archbishop of Dublin, the undertaking was abandoned, and Hill lost much money in laying the foundation of an edifice which was never completed. Thus, by the manifest interposition of heaven, the bell-tower and eastern window of our once splendid convent were saved from destruction, while the rest of the sacred edifice was uprooted from the very foundations. did it fare well with Hill, the author of all this vandalic sacrilege, for, when I visited Drogheda in 1615, bis wife was suffering from paralysis, and he himself was abhorred by the whole population. To us Franciscans he was another Heliodorus, desecrating our holy places, persecuting the members of our brotherhood, and laying sacrilegious hands on the consecrated utensils of the sanctuary. So perished the ancient convent of Drogheda.

Nor

"At present (in 1617), however, notwithstanding the despotism of the Deputy, Oliver St. John,* we have in that city a community of four friars, who live in a house which they rent, and in which they have erected an altar, pulpit, and confessionals. The secular priests have this house in common with our friars, and they all labour to preserve the faith among the people. As for the Franciscans, they live strictly according to their rule, wearing the habit in their conventual church, reciting the office in choir, and regretting heartily that they are obliged to exchange the garb of their holy founder for secular apparel when going abroad into the

streets.

"A few incidents connected with this little convent -alas, how unlike the stately monastery founded by the Plunkets, on the bank of the historic Boyne!-which occurred under my own eyes, deserve to be recorded to the honor of our friars, and for the edification of future ages.

"It was in the year 1610, that Father Maurice Ultan (O'Dunlevy) hired the house for our four friars in Drogheda, and soon afterwards, when it was noised abroad that the little community possessed some silver utensils for the altar, Sir Arthur Chichester, then Lord Deputy, instructed his myrmidons to watch their opportunity and make a raid upon the house, in order to

* Afterwards Viscount Grandison.

carry off the plate. The priest had hardly left the altar, when the ruffians forced their way into the chapel, and made off with the vestments, chalice, and everything else that they considered valuable. As for the friars they escaped by secret passages known only to themselves, for Chichester's hirelings were too intent on plunder to think of arresting them. On another occasion Father Francis Helan, an aged man, was seized at the foot of the altar and dragged into the streets, where the women of Drogheda assailed his captors with a shower of stones. The soldiers would willingly have released their prisoner to save themselves, but the old man, desirous of screening the people from Chichester's vengeance, surrendered himself voluntarily, and being conducted to Dublin, was arraigned in his habit before Adam Loftus, the Chancellor. The officer of the escort interposed on behalf of Father Helan, and generously described that he had surrendered voluntarily, stating, at the same time, that he (the officer) had never been in so great peril of his life, as from the Drogheda women and their improvised artillery. The chancellor and his confreres laughed heartily on hearing this, but the old priest was flung into prison, where he had. to dree six weary months. Ludicrous as the occurrence was, it exacerbated the hostility of the authorities against the good people of Drogheda. It would be tedious to narrate the stratagems to which the government had recourse for the total destruction of priests, seminarists, and friars in Ireland, ever since James I. ascended the throne. The sea-ports were vigilantly watched by ruffians hired to arrest those whom they supposed to be priests or students going abroad for education, and no one was allowed to come or go without the scrutiny of those wretches. I myself was present on the quay of Drogheda in 1614, when a young priest, a native of Cork, who had just then returned from Flanders, was arrested on suspicion, but as he was in secular apparel, he contrived to get off, owing principally to the interference of some bystanders, who said he was a merchant from Cork, of which he was a native. I remember too when the lodging of Eugene Mathews,† Archbishop of Dublin, was entered by a posse of those vile miscreants in quest of his Grace, who escaped through a window, and secreted himself on the roof of a neighbouring house. I was in the metropolis when that event occurred, and seeing the house in which I lodged surrounded by a vast crowd, I rushed into the street, and being in secular apparel, mingled with the throng, and thus fortunately eluded.

theological, and began to dispute with him about the dogmata of the Church. The poor friar was an illiterate man, but yet he was able enough to expose the sophistry of the royal logic, which was always employed to justify the most absurd paradoxes-one day proving the unlawfulness of smoking tobacco, and when tired of that thesis, strenuously maintaining the legality of smoking witches to death. When argument failed, the king had recourse to bribes, for he was very anxious to make a proselyte of a man who bore his own name; but finding that this sort of persuasion was of no avail, he ordered him to be imprisoned in the Tower of London, from which he was liberated after a long detention. Brother Stuart did good service to our community here in Louvain, and returned to Ireland, where his zeal and fidelity shall not be forgotten, if these poor pages can serve to perpetuate his memory.

"I find," continued the Provincial, "that I have not given you my memoranda anent the Franciscan house of Dundalk, and as the volume would be imperfect if it lacked a notice of that convent, I will now narrate the little that I have gleaned of its vicissitudes. The convent was founded in the thirteenth century, by John de Verdon, and was one of the first that was destroyed, when Henry VIII. decreed the dissolution of the religions communities. When I visited it, in 1616, nothing remained of the church except the bell-tower, and even that was sadly dilapidated. The entire of the sacred edifice, with its appurtenances, that is to say, about three or four acres of meadow-land, was held by Joha Brandon, a most respectable denizen of Dundalk, whose grandfather got a lease of the premises in the reign of King Henry. The said John waited on me when I was examining the ruin-alas, not so much the martyr of time as of man's wrathand told me that he scrupled holding possession of the place without the consent of the friars. I therefore, for the security of his conscience, laid the whole matter before John Cassel, a native of Dundalk, and syndic of the convent, who, by authority from Rome, allowed him to retain the dilapidated walls and the foresaid acres of land, on the following conditions: First, that he would renounce all right to possession whenever the Franciscans might claim it from him. Secondly, that he should not sell or alienate any portion of the premises, or their appurtenances, without the consent of our brotherhood. Thirdly, that he should not suffer any one to do further injury to the place, but save it from decay, and pledge himself not to let any portion of the land to another. Fourthly, that he would give something annually, by way of alms, to our friars, out of the rents which he received from the land. Brandon agreed to these conditions, and indeed he has been faithful to his word. Such conduct deserves to be recorded, and who knows but this poor testimony to true worth may one day meet the eyes of some of his posterity!"

THE O'BYRNES OF WICKLOW.

(CONCLUDED FROM PAGE 84.)

In resuming a narrative, laden with so many references to the State Papers, we intend to substitute for their uncouth orthography and quaint style, a more familiar and intelligible diction, still adhering with scrupulous fidelity to the original sense. In defence of this change,

the motive was the apprehension, that had the transcripts of so many letters been literally retained, the generality of readers, unused to the numerous contractions and capricious spelling, may not have discovered interest sufficient to invite perusal; but to the antiquarian, a modern adaptation would be needless.

When we stopped at Sir Robert Napper's letter to Lord Burghley, we met with another proof of Feagh's guiltlessness of betrayal of his son, the wife to be executed, Feagh still an outlaw, the son kept waiting for the gibbet, tempted with life, if he purchased it by parricide, though unqualified pardon had been already bargained for the father by the sacrifice of the son. deliberate violation of engagements combined in this network of atrocity is perfectly hideous, and would be incredible, but that we have it bequeathed to us, from such indisputable source.

The

At the date of Napper's letter, Sir William Russell was in Ulster awaiting the assassination of Tirone, for which Thomas Fleming (a cousin of Lord Slane's) had been hired by Burghley upon Russell's recommendation. But this conspiracy, like so many others against Tirone, resulting in failure, Russell returned to Dublin, and upon the 27th August, he communicated his ill-success to the Lord Treasurer, but comforts him for failure by shewing how he strove to gain over the Northern chiefs from Tirone, stipulating, as the only consideration for being received into favour, that they should first betray or cut off one of themselves; in the latter part of the letter he affords another link of evidence exculpatory of Feagh, describing Feagh's repudiation in a letter received from him, of the terms entered into by Sir Henry Harrington for him: this alone would be sufficient to absolve Feagh of any guilty participation in the hateful compact, that was never intended to be fulfilled by the contrivers. Though Russell held the unhappy price of unlimited pardon, whoever it was negociated by, he only granted a protection to Feagh for two months. An incident occurred in the ensuing month, highly illustrative of the order of a retributive Providence, in the murder near Baltinglas by Captain Lee of Keadagh O'Toole, and his brother Dermot, who had betrayed Walter Reogh. Harrington announcing it to Burghley, pithily observes, "this is the reward for their service to the great dishonour of the state;" care for the latter, no more than the deed, did not appear to distress Russell exceedingly, for no steps were taken against Lee until Burghley directed his arrest. A short imprisonment was all the penalty he suffered, and directly upon his release he retorted upon Harrington for his communica

tiveness by preferring articles of treason against him, alleging he had screened, and aided Feagh's wife and followers, when they had been proclaimed traitors. In the same letter, Harrington intimates that Feagh's protection was further extended to three months, pursuant to her majesty's commands, and that the caution enjoined "to make shew" that it had been granted without the queen's directions, had been observed. Thus, in the simplest, as in the most important transactions of state, we meet with unscrupulous deception, often darkened with cold-blooded atrocity; accident does not even present to our view, one hopeful incident to cheer the unbroken dreariness of misrule. When Feagh's protection became known, it disturbed the truculent calculations of many hungry expectants, and Sir Henry Wallop, as their exponent, upon the 12th November, addressed Sir Robert Cecil, deprecating the clemency of even protection, and declaring it was inexplicable to him "how such a wretch, compassed about by the sea and the Pale, should be so long permitted to live." With all the means of correct inference at command, that Feagh was not tolerated for love, Wallop might well have been convinced; he was only endured, because hitherto all attempts were powerless against him, and that the efficient remedy was still wanting. But this impatience was soothed somewhat, when little more than a month after protection, Russell acknowledges receipt of Burghley's letter "touching Feagh," but defers any immediate action, until the affairs of Ulster were more accommodated. We are not favoured with the character of Burghley's early solicitude for the chieftain, but there can be but little doubt, that the postponement contingent upon the arrangement of Ulster, boded no advantage for him. In this interval, the indomitable Feagh was vigorously reconstructing and concentrating the power which had been so rudely shaken, but not destroyed. Impenitent Ulster, and the complications consequent, were more than sufficient for the bewildered Russell, who was nearly wholly occupied in dolorously deprecating the wrath of the Queen.

The failure of the conspiracy, which was to destroy Tirone, to scatter Dungannon to the winds, and presto to pacify the kingdom, sent him back discomfited to seek a more fortunate conspirator, and to patch up his shortcomings with the beldame, his mistress. Several letters of this time develope his perplexities. A summary will suffice. The Deputy transmits his "unspeakable griefs" to the court and to the council. Sir John Norris deplores, "the Deputy's careless government had discontented all subjects, and would ruin the kingdom." Sir Richard Bingham, who was so soon to visit the Fleet as a prisoner, for doing too little or too much in Connaught we are in doubt which, but we can be in no doubt, he desolated the province-also intrudes his crimination, that the Deputy and all those about him are bent upon running a course for gain." Claudius accusat Machos. The thrifty precedent transmitted by so many predecessors was faithfully imitated by the Deputy, and Bingham's charge of selfishness, though not so flagrant as Fitzwilliam's, is corroborated in a letter to Sir Dudley

Carleton after Russell's recall. It says, "the Deputy is come home very fat both in body and purse." In this embroglio Feagh remained unnoticed until the 26th July 1596, when Harrington, again affecting to mediate for him, intimates to the Privy Council Feagh's desire to surrender his lands, and retake them by patent. We may reasonably doubt that any such authority was delegated to Harrington, for we can scarcely credit that with so important a proposal, involving so many interests remaining undecided, and before sufficient time could elapse for its rejection, he would so fatally peril it by the assault and capture of Ballinacor, which we shall presently reach. If Feagh ever did propose it, we may rather suppose it was to extract an ultimatum of the future intentions towards himself, as well as to deceive the government into a belief of his helplessness; he was then also in active correspondence with Tirone, and may have been imitating his wily tactics; and how far better had it been with Tirone, and Ireland too, had he used his power, and imitated Feagh's dauntless, enduring hostility, instead of frittering valuable opportunity, and contenting himself with whatever unstable advantage, intrigue, or a hollow peace, could extort from the weakness of a treacherous government. We are further strengthened in the doubt that Harrington was ever commissioned to propose the surrender, by a reference to another letter of Harrington's to Sir Robert Cecil, of ten days' subsequent date, asking for pardons for the surviving O'Tooles, participators in the betrayal of Walter Reogh, which "they were promised by the Deputy and Council, but not performed;" attention is invited to the sentence following this confession of broken faith: "Forasmuch as the service performed by them upon so notable a traitor, and weakening of the arch-rebel Feagh, is to be highly regarded." What reliance can we attach either to the statement or the advocacy of such an agent? One week affecting to be the friendly negociator for final reconciliation-in the next, stigmatizing his client by a term which must inevitably destroy any benefit to be derived from his intercession, if it was ever sought, and again that it was not, Lieut. Greame, in a letter to Russell of the 8th August, affords additional reason. He declares Feagh was in Barnacashel in Shillelagh, concerting rebellion with Sir Edward Butler's sons, at the very time Harrington describes him in communication with himself, and as a suppliant to the State. We are thus particular in detecting Harrington's unauthorized assumption of agency in the minor proposal for a surrender, as it must contribute to the further vindication of Feagh from the graver charge, so long affecting his memory, from the neglect of access to the State Papers; and we take this opportunity for declaring, that no history of Ireland is worthy of the least reliance without being first corrected and collated by them. To resume, we must not omit notice of a brief, but highly important testimony: Sir Warham St. Leger, writing from Maryboro' to Russell upon the 9th August, says he finds "the people are all very easily dealt with, but they all wait to see what shall become of Feagh, and then no doubt they will do as he does."