Corpus of Electronic Texts Edition
Chapters towards a History of Ireland in the reign of Elizabeth (Author: Philip O'Sullivan Beare)
Chapter 12
Toils of three days related.
WHEN day broke, the natives, coming to investigate the strange fire in such a wilderness, spent a long time talking with O'Sullivan, and then brought him a present of food, reporting to Oliver Lambert, President of Connaught, that the fire had been lit by labourers. Here some of the Catholics grew foot-sore from the hard weather and long march. O'Connor suffered intensely. On account of this, O'Sullivan tarried in the wood the following day till night. A night march was necessary for all, but O'Connor was so bad that he could not mount his horse. The highways and horsepaths were here and there blocked by enemies,
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and therefore the route was through narrow passes and obstructed valleys, so that they could not have struggled through were it not for one often helping the other. And so, O'Connor, lying stretched on the ground, thus addressed his feet:—‘Have you not gone through the most difficult trials these last three nights? Why do you now shrink from the toils of one night? Are not my head and the safety of my whole body more precious to you, my most delicate feet? What doth it avail to have fled so far if through your sloth we now fall into the hands of the enemy? I will assuredly make you shake off this sluggishness.’ Forthwith, with the utmost effort and weight of his armour he struck his feet against the ground, and squeezing out the matter, pus, and blood, he got up and began to march with the rest. Now, however, a guide was wanted, and him God supplied. For a man clad in a linen garment, his feet bare, his temples bound with a white wreath, carrying in his hand a long wand tipped with an iron point, and presenting an appearance well calculated to inspire awe, appeared and greeted O'Sullivan and the rest, and being saluted by them in turn, thus spoke:
‘I know that you are Catholics tried by various misfortunes, fleeing from the tyranny of heretics, that at Aughrim hill you routed the royalist forces, and are going to O'Rourke, who is 15 miles off, but you want a guide. Therefore a desire has seized me to conduct you thither.’
O'Sullivan long pondered whether he could confide in this man, and ordered 200 gold pieces to be given to him. These he took. ‘This gift,’ said he, ‘I accept not as a reward, but in token of my good will towards you, as I have resolved of my own good will to do you this service.’ The darkness of night, the unknown country, the suspected guide, multiplied the fears of those groping along. The feet slipping over loose stones, the snow heaped up by the wind, exhaustion, swollen feet, all tried the unhappy fugitives. O'Connor suffered more than anyone, the causes of his pain increasing. The greater part of his feet and legs was inflamed. Lividness supervened, and in turn gave place to blisters, and these were succeeded by ulcers. He was terribly afflicted and only able to bear up because he suffered for Christ Jesus. In the dead of night they reached the little village called Knockvicar, where they refreshed themselves with fire and purchased food. When they decided to move on, O'Connor, whose ulcers had been crustated by the fire, was not able to stand, much less walk. Four of his comrades carried him on their shoulders until
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in the twilight they found a stray beast, lank and worn with age, on which they placed him without bridle or saddle, the sharp bone of the lean back pricking the rider. Some led the blind beast, others whacked him along. Having got over the Curlew hills, they reached a plain, when O'Connor began to walk. After daybreak, the guide showed O'Sullivan O'Rourke's castle in the distance, and bid the rest farewell, assuring them all danger was now past. They reached Leitrim fort about eleven o'clock, being then reduced to 35, of whom 18 were armed, 16 were sutlers, and one was a woman. The others, who were over 1,000 leaving Bear, had either perished or had deserted their leader, or lingered on the road through weariness or wounds. Some followed in twos and threes. I am astonished that Dermot O'Sullivan, my father, an old man near 70, and the woman of delicate sex, were able to go through these toils, which youths in the flower of age and height of their strength were unable to endure. O'Rourke received O'Sullivan with most honourable hospitality, giving directions to have his sick cured, and all necessaries to be supplied just as he had afforded comfort to MacWilliam and Maguire, who had been driven to him. And he would have succoured O'Sullivan had he delayed longer here.
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WE have shown how the resources of the chief leaders in this war were shattered. We shall in this volume relate some memorable struggles: How on the death of the Queen of England, the King of Scotland obtained Ireland; and shall discuss the justness of the Irish war.