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awful ferocity. No quarter was given on either side. The returning planters and Carew's flying columns laid waste the whole country, "not leaving behind man or beast, corn or cattle.” In the north, the lord-deputy was gradually hemming in Tyrone. A secure hold was taken of his country by the fortifying of the two positions of Mountjoy and Charlemont on the south-east, and Derry, Donegal, and Lifford on the north-west. His friends deserted him right and left, and made their submission to the Government, which the lord-deputy would only accept upon their “doing some signal service on their own people," that is, the betrayal of their friends.

Elizabeth was now slowly sinking into the grave, and to terminate the war before the chance arose of a disputed succession was all important. There was great apprehension of a fresh descent on the Irish coast by a Spanish fleet, which would be removed were hostilities to cease. Tyrone, though not yet a hunted fugitive,

, saw that all hope of final success was gone. His territory was so wasted that the people were dying of starvation by hundreds; the country was strewed with unburied carcases; while an active and determined enemy was gradually drawing the net more tightly round him. Under these circumstances he came in person under a safe-conduct to Mellifont, and terms were come to : honourable, indeed, to Tyrone, and sufficiently satisfactory to the Crown. The earl made his submission. He surrendered his estates, and renounced for ever all claims to the title of “O'Neil,” or suzerainty over his neighbours. He abjured alliances with all foreign powers, especially Spain; and promised to introduce English laws and customs into Tyrone. On the other hand, he was to receive a full pardon and a regrant of his title and lands by letters patent, and a general amnesty was given to his followers, and the full possession of their estates. At the moment when Tyrone was on his knees before the deputy at Mellifont, Elizabeth had already breathed her last.



A.D. 1603-1606.

MOUNTJOY and Carew had now stamped out every spark of rebellion in every part of Ireland. The power of the Irish was completely broken by the process of starvation. The system pursued both in the south and in the north of destroying the crops, removed the whole source of sustenance on which the mass of the people depended. To add to the loss of the food at hand, Elizabeth's practice of debasing the coin had doubled and trebled the price of every purchaseable article, and a fatal pestilence had followed upon the famine. The people in Ulster died of hunger by thousands. Moryson, who was Mountjoy's secretary, and afterwards President of Ulster, tells awful stories of how the carcases of people lay in ditches, their dead mouths green with the docks and nettles on which they had endeavoured to support life. How young children were trapped and eaten by the starving women who were hiding in the woods on the Newry; and how he and Sir Arthur Chichester witnessed the horrible spectacle of three young children devouring the entrails of their dead mother.

The subjugation was ruthlessly accomplished; but we must remember that the nature of the country was such that it could not well be subdued by the recognized methods of warfare pursued against more civilized countries. There was no central government in Ireland with whom the lord-deputy could treat. There was no capital city or fortress, no arsenal or camp, the capture of which would paralyze all after efforts at resistance. The whole island was, to a great extent, impassable to an army. There were a few main roads radiating from Dublin; the great highway to Galway; the high road to Carrickfergus along the coast; the high road, also along the coast, to Wexford ; and the great road by way of Naas over Leighlin bridge to Kilkenny, and thence, breaking through the hills at Cahir, to the city of Cork, a branch from which led round by Limerick to the fortress of Athlone. Along these main lines of communication the deputies had hitherto always proceeded in all their raids or “hostings,” marching from blockhouse to blockhouse, and from one walled town to another, along the line, and laying waste the enemy's land as they went. The country lying between and beyond

. these main arteries was either mountainous, or boggy, or densely wooded, with patches of cultivated and pasture land interspersed amongst it. Into these impenetrable fastnesses the natives, on the approach of the royal forces, invariably retired, and it was hopeless and highly dangerous to follow them. To send an invading army against such an enemy in such a country was like striking a feather-bed-no resistance was made, and no result was produced. Mountjoy and Carew came at the end of a long line of soldiers who had broken their hearts in the endeavour to subdue the Irish with insufficient forces. They now had the men at their command, and were determined to do their business thoroughly. They did so in the only way in which they could hope to succeed, namely, planting garrisons at intervals in the disaffected country, keeping up the lines of communication effectually between them and the old fortified positions, scouring the intervening country with small parties of horse and foot, burning the huts, driving the cattle, and utterly laying waste every patch of cultivation.

The great mass of the Irish were still in, or rather had sunk back into, a semi-barbarous condition. The incessant fighting amongst themselves and the Norman settlers, and afterwards the desolating wars of Elizabeth's reign, had effectually checked their progress towards civilization. Their only wealth was cattle. There was very little actual money in use, and fines and cesses were paid and taken in kind. The Anglo-Irish lords and the Irish chieftains were many of them fairly educated, though we find a large proportion of the latter executed their indentures of submission by subscribing their mark. They lived in moated stone castles, some of which had lead roofs; and their dress was a shirt dyed with saffron, a short jacket with wide sleeves, and over all a cloak of fur. The class below, or the gentry, lived a good deal rougher life, especially those of Ulster, where

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