provincialism than from affection to Preston, he at last grew disgusted with the treachery and temporizing of his adopted chief, and resolved to take service under Owen O'Neill, as the better general and truer man. This change must doubtless have cost him a struggle, but the fact we are about to record determined him to make it.

In the autumn of 1616, the supreme council of the Confederates resolved on taking Dublin out of the hands of the Viceroy Ormond, who was negociating secretly with the Parliamentarians for its surrender the moment their ships anchored in the bay. The possession of the metropolis would have given the national party great power over the whole island, and they accordingly despatched two armies, under Preston and O'Neill, to bes'ege the city. The rival generals pitched their camps on the north bank of the Liffey, and in the night time the numerous fires of their bivouacs were distinctly visible to the inhabitants, who beheld them from the campanile of Christ Church and the elevated sites in the vicinity of St. James's-gate. The headquarters of the two generals were at Lucan and Leixlip, and the Pope's Nunzio, accompanied by Emer MacMahon, Bishop of Clogher, Father Scarampi, and others of his partizans, did all he could to urge O'Neill and Preston to take the leagured city by assault. His powers of persuasion, however, were lost on the latter, who was in collusion with Ormond, through the agency of the worthless Clanricarde, and desired nothing so much as the total ruin of O'Neill and the Ulster army. In a word, Preston wavered in his resolution, temporized with the bitter enemy of his creed and couutry, and, sacrificing a grand opportunity to the hatred with which he always regarded his rival, refused to join in a combined movement against the city, which must have fallen had he so willed it. False to the oath which he had solemnly sworn, he now sought to place O'Neill between himself and Ormond, and thus cut off all chance of retreat, but the Ulster general, seeing himself in danger of being compromised, raised his camp, and proceeded by rapid marches to Kilkenny. The fate of Ireland was thus sealed by Preston's treachery, and on his head rests the guilt of having left Dublin open to Jones, Cromwell's lieutenant, who soon afterwards garrisoned it with Parliamentary forces.

From that moment O'Shiel lost all confidence in the Leinster general, and "as a loyal member of both country and cause, resolved to relinquish him and adhere to O'Neill, whom he never afterwards forsook in all his fortunes." Thenceforth he devoted his skill to the service of the troops commanded by Owen Roe; but before quitting the camp of his former chief, he sent him the following valedictory document, which proves that he did not cease to take an interest in his bodily health.

"My Rt honble lord. Having known the constitution of your body this long while, and calling to memory also how some years since, I have given directions in the Low Countries whereby your honour should abstain from all sorts of wine, only Vin du pays and Rhenish wine, excess in which direction was altogether excluded then and now

also (my lord) according to my obligation, I do once again forbid the same, assuring your honor that no other end can be expected than to shorten your own days, whereby you will be an executioner of yourself if you follow the contrary. This much to discharge myselfe of my dutie toward you, I thought fit to certify, and so do rest, and will ever remain your true servant. OWEN O'SHIEL."

Two years after the date of this sanitary warning, O'Neill and Preston, at the head of their respective armies, were confronting each other as implacable enemies, for the Leinster general had joined Lord Ormond's faction, and O'Neill clung with desperate fidelity to the party of the Pope's nuncio and the clergy. The odium theologicum occasioned by excommunications and interdicts exasperated the opposing parties, who, apparently heedless of the preparations which Cromwell was making for the extermination of both, now seemed wholly intent on each other's destruction. At this crisis O'Neill's troops held possession of Athy, Rheban, and other castles in the county Kildare, from which Preston uudertook to dislodge them, whilst the Ulster general, with the main body of his forces, was employed in Munster storming Nenagh, and other strongholds garrisoned by Inchiquin, who had recently coalesced with Lord Or mond.

On his march to Athy, Preston halted before the castle of Woodstock,* then occupied by Dame Catherine O'Shiel, wife of our Eagle," (who was with Owen Roe in Munster,) and despatched a trumpet to demand its surrender. The lady, however, rejected the summons, and sent word to Preston that "she would never betray the trust reposed in her by General O'Neill by betraying his castle." Preston, on hearing this, despatched a second trumpet to intimate that she should give him the place after he had taken Athy. To this she replied, "that neither before nor after such taking would she surrender other than by main force." The general finding her so inflexible, appointed three captains, "her own well-wishers," to wait on her, and repre sent the folly of holding out against him, but their arguments only served to confirm her resolution. On their return to the camp, Preston wrote to her that he would be necessitated to take the place by as sault, if she did not yield it at once, but nothing daunted by the threat, she directed Hugh O'Shiel, her husband's nephew, to proceed to the general's quarters with a cartel, stating that "she defied him, and that although there were none but women in the place, he should never get possession of it till he had reduced it to a heap of stones." Irritated, and so far foiled by a woman, Preston caused young Hugh to be detained, and then wrote a second note to inform her that he would hang the prisoner in sight of the castle if she did nɔt surrender without further parley. Her rejoinder to this threat was worthy of old Captain Tyrrell's daughter, for she wrote to Preston thus: "If you prove such a base tyrant as to execute such a messenger (contrary to the law of arms), I will never rausom him at so dear a rate as thereby to turn traitor to him who placed

* Built in the thirteenth century.

trust in me; nay, if my husband and all my children were to be hanged upon such a score, I would not hiuder it, as being more tender of their good name than their lives as tainted with the ugly stain of treason.' On receipt of this letter Preston ordered his provostmarshal to hang the youth from the shaft of a cart tilted up for the occasion almost under the castle windows, but some of the staff officers interfered, and eventually saved the lad's life, and Preston's memory from the stain of wanton bloodshed.* Young Hugh, however, was held in custody, and had to march with Preston's army to the leagner of Athy.

Four companies of the Ulster troops under Captains John O'Hagan, Con O'Neill, Daniel M'Kenna, and Daniel O'Mellan, garrisoned the castlef and the Dominican monastery, then standing on the east bank of the Barrow, when Preston sat down before the town. No one knew better than he did that the place would never yield till resistance become utterly hopeless; and he, therefore, lost no time in opening his battery against the castle. His shot told with terrible effect, for after eighteen rounds the staircase was so damaged that the beseiged could not ascend or descend. O'Hagan, however, contrived to remedy this disaster by means of ladders from storey to storey, and no sooner was there a breach made in the walls than he filled it up "with hides, wool, and straw." Whenever an opportunity presented itself, the Ulster men sallied out by a postern, and so harassed Preston's people that they had to betake themselves to their trenches for shelter. At length, seeing that he could not get the castle, the more so as the river was between him and it, Preston shifted his position, and levelled his guns against the monastery which had been evacuated by Con O'Neill. Father Thomas Birmingham was then guardian of the community, and the memoir from which we quote teils us that "he planted a large wooden cross on the bell tower, imagining that the holy symbol would induce Preston to spare the place." He was deceived, however, for the Leinster general, instigated by his chaplain, Friar Barnewall, who disregarded the Nuncio's censures, battered down the belfry, and finally took the monastery by assault. Meanwhile intelligence of these events had sped to Owen O'Neill, in Munster, and he immediately despatched reinforcements for the garrison of Athy. Advancing by rapid marches, the relief at length arrived, and falling unexpectedly on a detachment of Preston's troops, who held the only ford on the river, between Rheban and the town, they put them to flight, and then crossing the Barrow, proceeded to regain possession of the monastery. The Leinster men made a stout resistance, but they were literally hewn to pieces in the bawn, garden, and cloisters of the monastery, where," says the memoir,

66

The memoir describes Preston as "a man delicate in his diet, wavering in his resolutions, imperious in his commands, and fiery in his deportment." We should not forget, however, that Preston's defence of Louvain entitled him to a foremost place amongst the greatest generals of his age.

+ The castle of Athy was erected by Gerald, Sth Earl of Kildare, in 1506.

66

If you insist on keeping the prisoner, tell me what ransom in money or exchange you demand; but if you execute him, as I hear you intend, I protest by the holy rood there is never a man of yours that will happen to fall into my hands, or already are my prisoners, taken only on mercy and not on quarter given, but I will yield them the same measure that you yield unto him, although he were your own son, and will use my best endeavours to be beforehand with you."

This communication produced the desired effect, and young O'Shiel, being speedily released from durane, returned to Dame Catherine, in her castle of Woodstock, to gladden her stout heart with a narrative of Preston's discomfiture before Athy.

Throughout the entire of 1648, O'Shiel followed the fortunes of Owen Roe, giving his best services to that gallant chieftain's army, whose masterly tactics and bravery defeated on many a hard-fought field the seven generals against whom it had to contend. In the following year, however, the Ulster general was obliged to conclude a treaty with Sir Charles Coote, who held Derry for the Parliament, and he accordingly marched to the relief of that city, then leagured by the royalists. After some desultory skirmishes the latter were forced to raise the siege, and Coote, opening the gates to his deliverer, received him and his staff" with great parade of hospitality and extraordinary plenty." It was whispered, however, that Coote dealt foully with his guest, giving him at his table some subtle poison, which so paralysed his energies that he was no longer able to mount his horse, and had to be carried in a litter at the head of his army back to Cavan, whence he was soon afterwards removed to Clough Outer castle, the residence of his brother-inlaw, Philip O'Reilly. Some have ascribed O'Neill's illness and death to a poisoned pair of russet leather boots sent him as a present by one of the Plunkets of Louth; but be that as it may, none of the biographers of this great Irish general have hitherto given us any account of the symptoms of his fatal malady. The memoir, however, on which we have already drawn so largely, informs us that Coote's poison "was of lingering operation,' weakening its victim gradually, giving him little pain, but causing his hair and nails to fall off by degrees." From the middle of August till the sixth of November, O'Neill pined slowly away, and we may easily imagine how his brave heart waxed faint and sorrowful while the watchers at his sick bed related to him the massacres of Drogheda and Wexford, and above all, the slaughter of his faithful clansmen whom he had recently sent to the support of the Royal cause. During the first month of his illness, O'Shiel was absent, and the physicians in attendance mistaking his malady, treated him for gout. "His own doctor," continu's the " me

mir," "Divine Providence so ordaining, was for a month at the beginning of his infirmities absent, which had been prime motive (divine disposition excepted) of the untimely death of that noble warrior." The same authority describes Owen Roe's last moments thus: "He died in our Lord, 6th November 1649, a true child of the Catholic religion, in full sense and memory, many of both secular and regular clergy assisting hi.n in such a doubtful transit, and behaving himself most penitently. Being most devout to all regular orders during his life, especially to the order of St. Dominic, he put on his habit as a sure buckler against the rigor of future judgment, and was interred in the monastery of Cavan to oblige" both patriarchs."

Early in the March of the following year (1650), a meeting was held, under the presidency of MacSweeny, bishop of Kilmore, to elect a successor to the deceased general. The assemblage was numerous, and among those who aspired to the vacant leadership, were the Marquess of Antrim, Lieutenant General O'Ferrall, Sir Phelim O'Neill, Henry (son of Owen) and many others who had distinguished themselves at home and abroad. Unfortunately, however, clerical influence was in the ascendant, and Emer MacMahon, bishop of Clogher, was appointed to the command. "He was a man,' says the memoir, "no way fit for such work, and his election was sanctioned solely to put an end to further intrigue." Immediately after his appointment he proceeded to Ormond and Clanricard, then in Connaught, who cajoled him with promises of great assistance if he would march against Coote, "then the only champion of the Puritans in Ulster." The bishop undertook to do so, and receiving a commission from Ormond, he proceeded to the borders of the county Monaghan, to place himself at the head of his forces. O'Shiel, whose devotedness to the O'Neills never flagged, resolved to share the fortunes of the late general's son, and to stand or fall with him as fate might decree. A few months were spent in desultory skirmishing, and taking of some insignificant places which Coote had garrisoned; but the bishop's generalship proved that he knew little of the "art military." Relying on Ormond's fidelity, his grand object was to keep open the communication through Ballyshannon with Connaught, whence he expected the supplies, and with this object he crossed the Foyle near Lifford, a fatal movement, which enabled Coote and Venables to effect a junction of their forces, and ultimately obliged himself to take up a position near Letterkenny, where, owing to the rocky nature of the ground, it was impossible to manœuvre. Coote and Venables were at Schear Saullis, on the River Swilly, and knowing that the bishop had detached a strong force to seize Doe castle, they were prepared to attack him at any moment. A singular incident occurred on the eve of this blundering and fatal engagement; for we are told that a woman of uncommon stature dressed all in white presented herself to the bishop, and warned him that if he engaged the enemy where he then was, i.e. to secure the intercession of saints Francis and Dominic.

he would be beaten. Disregarding the weird prophecy, he assembled his officers on the night of the twentieth of June, to concert measures for next day's operations, and we are indebted to the "memoir" for the following account of the proceedings of the council convened on that momentous occasion.

Henry O'Neill rose to speak and addressed the bishop thus: "Let us remove hence and tire out the enemy. My father would use many counctation to save the life of a single man; and now, my lord, won't you do the same with this army rather than expose it to slaughter? It is no disparagement to your lordship that you are not versant in those nice quillets of thundering Mars as not bred in his martial academy. 'Tis the theorick of this art that wins the garland; therefore, cede and give place to practitioners. Lieutenant-general O'Farrell, and others that have endured the hardships of many temperatures for many years to the hazarding both life and fortune only for honour's sake to be dexter in this martial discipline, which cannot be acquired like our Paternoster in a day, otherwise than by much labour, pains and effusion of blood-he and all of us who are of the art would fain dissuade you from engaging the enemy here. My lord, you may consider that I and all the rest here convened are as prompt to do service on the enemy as ever you are willing to command; but would have it done like soldiers and not like men without art or experience. A great many of our soldiers are wanting upon other designs, and such as are extant are weary by much toil and travail. Let us then withdraw ourselves half a mile off, where we may be secure from any enemy, no matter how strong. If we act thus the people will flock to us, and the enemy will either disperse or starve. Should we not rather do this than hazard the only Catholic army in the kingdom to the slippery hands and wavering doom of never constant and variable fortune? If we be worsted at the onset, (as my father of happy memory did on such another occasion wisely consider.) this army could never again, even after the lapse of many months, be recruited or come to so considerable a head; but if the enemy had here the worst, it may easily be restored to its former being, by the powerful assistance of the parliament of England, now in actual possession of the three kingdoms. Cunctation in all ages is laudable in a general. Was it not this that placed Scanderbeg in the frontispiece of the book of fame? What else won fame for Spinola serving in the wars of Flanders, but cunctation? Did not this enable him to defeat Maurice, Prince of Orange? Surely the ominous prophecy regarding the place where we now are is ground sufficient for any reasonable understanding to cede his own to the contrary inclinings. My lord, I have done, and I know that I have spoken the sentiments of all my brothers in arms."

The bishop paid no deference to the arguments so ably and unanswerably urged by Henry O'Neill; for, instead of combating or questioning them, he phleg matically remarked that "the conclusions drawn from former results were no way suitable to the courage of brave soldiers, but rather to the dastardly behaviour of

Looking still with earnest vision

On the wavelets' endless flow, Which did still their song elysian

Chaunt, full soft, and sweet, and low.

There a deeper thought came o'er her
As of sorrow's darkest hue;

In the limpid stream before her
Mournful things she seemed to view.
And at last she rent the glowing
Circlet which her forehead bore,
And into the waters flowing,

Cast it down for evermore.

Thence her magic beauty faded
Quickly to my dreaming eye,
Every feature that had made it,
Seemed to change, and shrink, and die.
Of her form the grace departed,

Soon her orbs no lustre shed;
And e'er trembling, I upstarted,
Saw I last, a fleshless head!

From the summit of that mountain,
Looking o'er the misty sea;
From beside that wilden fountain,
Warbling soft song ceaselessly;
I came down; my sad dream leaving
On the fern of mystic seed,
While the boom of ocean heaving
Shoreward, still mine ear did heed.
H. NICHOLSON LEVINGE.

OONA MORIARTY.

AN INCIDENT IN IRISH PEASANT LIFE.

THOSE bold promontories and intruding bays, which so deeply indent the map of Ireland along its whole western outline, tell of a long and fierce struggle be tween land and ocean. How wild a warfare has the great Atlantic waged against our island-home along that iron-bound coast for nigh six thousand years! Those jutting headlands projecting so far into the deep; those rocky islets, left so far out among the wild waves by the vanquished and retreating terra firma; those jagged creeks and bays penetrating towards the very heart of the country, and searching out every nook where the solid granite, or the quartz, or the limestone was not at hand to resist the invading element-all these indica's the terrific power of the hostile forces, and the varying success of that everlasting conflict.

But not one of those headlands forms so prominent a feature on the map, or one so interesting on many accounts, as the great peninsula which still rejoices in the euphonious old title of Corkaguinny, and of which the local chief place is the ancient little town of Dingle. All round from Malin-head to Cape Clear, without excep'ing even Achil or the tempest-shorn Mweelrea, there is