by C R Dempsey
She nodded knowingly and left the tent to tell her sisters’ husbands the news.
Seamus sensed it was time for him to return to Tirconnell.
* * *
Several days passed, and jealousy and rivalries stewed in the camp. Fiach stuck to his own tent and wondered whether he had done the right thing, only going to Hugh Boye’s tent in moments of greatest doubt, hoping again that some of the man’s genius would rub off on him. Such visits only added to his disappointment. But things never stayed the same for long in the O’Byrne camp.
“The English are retreating! The English are retreating!” shouted a messenger as he scrambled up the mountain to give Fiach the news.
Fiach ran out of his tent and stood astride the entrance to the camp.
“I heard you the first time wailing like a banshee. So will any spies hiding in the bushes or the bottom of the valleys. What has you so excited, boy?”
“The English are retreating, lord. They are abandoning the valleys and going back to Dublin.”
Turlough walked over and joined his father.
“Surely this is just a ruse? We follow them and then they spring their ambush?”
“What about Ballinacor and their new fort?” asked Fiach of the boy.
“I couldn’t see that far. But they seem to retreat from everywhere.”
Fiach turned to Turlough.
“Send scouts to find out. I must know before I make my move,” said Fiach, as he shook with excitement. “Ballinacor, I am coming for you!”
Turlough left to make the arrangements, and Seamus replaced him by Fiach’s side.
“I have forgiven him for his previous follies, and he stands at my side again as my firstborn. But I need to protect him from his younger brothers and their O’Toole wives. He is the only one I can trust as being capable of keeping our fragile alliance together when I pass. That is if he can survive the pit of vipers that is clan politics.”
“If I succeed in my mission, that could all be a thing of the past,” replied Seamus.
Fiach barely recognised his friend.
“What has you so optimistic? Have you been at the drink again?”
“I had a decision forced upon me and took it. If I die, may it be for a cause, a reason more than a couple of coins and some cattle.”
“You’ll be spouting religion at me next, and the tales of St Colmcille fighting monsters!”
“I’m not that bad.”
“Well, I’ve never seen you like this. So where does this mission of yours have you going next?”
“Back north to work out an escape route for Hugh Boye and the veterans. I have to go alone, for the mission is both important and top secret. You can look after my men for me.”
“You’ll have my blessing if the English are gone.”
“I must make my preparations.”
Fiach nodded, for he knew it was time as well. Even he was growing tired of Hugh Boye.
* * *
The scouts returned several days later and confirmed that the English had left, but they still garrisoned the fort in Ballinacor. Seamus went to gather his things. Sean O’Toole waited outside his tent. He had the benefit of several weeks of food and rest and regained the energy that Seamus would have expected from a veteran of the Dutch revolt. Seamus slung his bag over his shoulder and set out to leave. Sean made his presence known.
“Can I come with you?” asked Sean.
“Come with me where?” replied Seamus.
“Up north, to the O’Donnells?”
“News certainly spreads fast in this small camp. I wish to remain inconspicuous. Therefore, I travel alone.”
“It is much easier to fight off bandits if someone has your back. If there are two of us, there is twice the chance that one of us makes it to Tirconnell.”
Seamus saw the determination in Sean’s face.
“Are you fit to fight?”
“Yes.”
“Then get your bags.”
Seamus and Sean went to Fiach’s tent. Turlough and Hugh Boye were also waiting for them. Fiach handed Seamus two letters.
“Here. There’s one from me and one from Hugh Boye. Only give these to Red Hugh. Part of my letter is requesting that you return to collect Hugh Boye as I trust you, but few others as the rebels’ ranks are riddled with spies.
“If the O’Neill and the O’Donnell could see their way to giving me some more soldiers or raid the Pale to draw some English soldiers away, then I could rally together south Leinster and rise with my allies.”
Seamus took the letters and put them in his bag.
“I’ll see what I can do. Goodbye, old friend. Try not to get killed while I’m gone!”
“Try not to die before you reach Tirconnell!”
They warmly embraced.
Hugh Boye gave a grunt that Seamus generously interpreted as a goodbye. Fiach provided Uaithne O’More and some guides to escort them out of Leinster and as far as Maguire territory.
* * *
After a long two weeks of travel, Seamus and Sean finally arrived back in Donegal town. The journey took twice as long as expected, for the countryside was in chaos, and the letters in Seamus’s possession needed to be protected from the English and bandit alike. Once in Donegal town, they were directed straight to the court of the O’Donnell.
The court was in session, and busier than Seamus remembered. Red Hugh seemed to attract every rebel and never-do-well, expelled from either Connacht or Leinster, looking for glory, spoils, or the resolution to a long-held grudge, whether real or imaginary. He had been vocal in his submissions to the Irish Council, calling for the return of tanistry to Connacht and the restoration of O’Donnell land and levies in Connacht. Probably the strongest rallying call for the rebels of Connacht and Leinster was that the lords of Connacht were to be pardoned and restored to their former positions. While Hugh O’Neill had a disciplined and well-trained army, thanks to the English sheriffs and the Spanish survivors of the Armada, the O’Donnell had the motley crew of Irish rebels with a spine of O’Donnells and MacSweeney Galloglass, albeit all highly trained in killing other Irishmen.
To all in the court, Red Hugh seemed to be the rising power in Connacht and Leinster. Ineen Dubh used her contacts in Scotland, and many a well-to-do redshank constable lingered at the back of the hall, costing the job and waiting for the war to start. But such preparations needed cattle and money, and as Seamus and Sean entered, the walls reverberated with the O’Donnell’s plans to raid Connacht. Seamus worked his way through the crowd and past the guards to whisper in the ear of Eoghan McToole O’Gallagher.
“I have urgent messages for the O’Donnell from our friends in Wicklow,” and Seamus opened his bag to show Eoghan the letters.
“Wait ‘till he’s finished, and then I’ll get you a personal audience.”
Red Hugh finished his speech with promises of help from the Spanish king and told everyone to prepare for Connacht. The men loved it, as it paved the way to their apparent fortunes. Red Hugh rose and lapped up the applause. He walked out of the court, beaming from ear to ear. Eoghan McToole O’Gallagher approached him as he left the room with Ineen Dubh and their bodyguards.
“Lord, Seamus has returned from Wicklow with urgent letters.”
“Come to my room and let us read them.”
Seamus was invited to follow, but Sean was directed into the court to refresh himself after his long journey. Red Hugh did not look back to greet Seamus until the door of the room was closed behind them.
“So what news do you bring me from the south?”
“Fiach MacHugh O’Byrne still resists after all these years but is under heavy pressure from the English. I don’t know how long he can hold out.”
“He shall have all the help that I can give him. If it weren’t for him, I would have ended up back in prison in Dublin or frozen to death in the hills of Wicklow. I have been putting his case forward to the Irish Council for a pardon.”
“He is also hiding Hugh Boye MacDav
itt from the English.”
Red Hugh looked elated.
“Come to the meeting of the O’Donnell leaders tomorrow. We have plans that may provide a suitable distraction for both our friends.”
24
Raids in Connacht
Seamus and Sean made their way through the camp outside Donegal town. The depraved pit of mud, drunkenness and lawlessness that had blossomed in their absence suited its occupants well.
“What these men need is a good battle,” said Seamus and Sean nodded his agreement.
He sought directions from a man in rags wrapped around a bottle. The man was sitting alone amongst a group of tents and did not recognise Seamus, but gave him directions all the same. Seamus arrived at where he thought he once camped but recognised neither man nor panorama. Shea Óg was nowhere to be found, or his son Sean, or their three remaining companions from Enniskillen. Seamus wandered a little further to where he thought the overseas veterans were camped, but they too were nowhere to be seen. He slapped his thigh in despair.
“Just what you’d expect of a bunch of never-do-wells with nothing to do.”
Seamus walked on and saw a face he recognised, looked bored by a campfire whose only companion was a bottle.
“Hey! Where’s the man with a bag on his head?”
“That troublemaker went back to his clan,” and the man pointed to his right.
“The O’Rourkes?”
“That’ll be the one,” the man nodded and returned his attention to the fire and the bottle.
“Damn.”
The O’Rourkes were one of the larger clan contingents in the camp. Shea Óg was gathering allies.
“Are we going to look for your friend?” asked Sean.
“No, and he’s not my friend,” came the curt response.
“Then?”
“We go find some of your fellow soldiers, the Munster boys from the Netherlands.”
They walked through the camp, and from the way the men sat in their own circles enclosed by their own tents, it was apparent the soldiers had broken down into their clan rivalries.
“They need someone to fight, and fast,” remarked Seamus.
“Yes, the war can’t come quick enough,” agreed Sean again.
After seeking directions several more times in the chaotic camp, they finally came across the men from Munster. There were only about twenty, but fifteen were veterans while the rest were farm boys they picked up on their trek north. However, in Seamus’s absence, the men had proved themselves to the O’Donnell as good, loyal fighting men and subsequently joined the small but growing O’Donnell shot.
They warmly greeted Seamus and Sean, for those who did not know the former in person knew him by reputation.
“I’ll make you eejits good MacSheehys yet! So what do you boys do for a good time around here?” roared Seamus.
The men cheered and raised whatever vessels they could lay their hands on that contained beer or other alcohol. Seamus led them to Donegal town, where they knew him well in all best alehouses and brothels. Given his standing with the O’Donnell, he could get them in anywhere. They spent three days idling away, drinking and bonding.
“Sure, what’s the point in training you for three days when we could drink for three days instead,” said Seamus as he raised his mug for the umpteenth salute.
The men roared back their appreciation and emptied their cups. The rowdy crew was one of many that littered the streets of Donegal. However, if anyone ever objected or complained about them, the men would point to Seamus. He would tell the complainant to make their objections about Seamus MacSheehy to Red Hugh himself, for he was the only person he answered to. Nobody went to make known their gripes. But he remembered he had responsibilities that went with his connections, and eventually they had to return to their tents to sober up.
News of his return soon spread around the camp. Seamus lay in the communal area of the veteran’s tents, contemplating training when Shea Óg and his son came within earshot.
“Oh damn!” and Seamus covered his face with the nearest cloth within reach.
“Hells bells.”
He chose the wrong one.
He bolted upright, overwhelmed by the smell, and straight into Shea Óg and Sean.
“I see you’re doing well for yourself these days,” smirked Shea Óg.
“When was the last time you washed your mask? I can smell it from here.”
“You’ve been gone a long time. The captain has been looking for you,” said Shea Óg, ignoring Seamus’s last comment.
“Well, he knows where to find me, and he knows what he has to do. Now excuse me, I’ve got work to do. May your last days with the O’Rourkes be pleasant ones,” and Seamus waved Shea Óg away.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” and Shea Óg felt for the axe in his belt.
The commotion attracted the veterans, and they surrounded Shea Óg.
“I would leave while you still can.”
Seamus smiled at Shea Óg, who growled and turned tail.
“Who’s he?” asked Sean.
“No one. Just a shadow from the past.”
* * *
Several days later, Seamus was summoned to attend the meeting of the military heads of the O’Donnells as the representative of the veterans. Spirits were high and Red Hugh did not disappoint when he announced they were going on a massive raid into Connacht. Hugh selected Seamus to lead a unit of men on the raid alongside a force of rebels assembled from those who had fled Tirconnell from Connacht and Leinster. They were to be stiffened by MacSweeney Galloglass and redshanks.
There were still shortages of modern weapons, so they were only to be allocated to men who had already been trained in their usage. Most of the veteran shot were sent off to join a unit of recently trained MacSweeney shot, and those that were skilled with pikes enhanced the MacSweeney pikes. Despite his extensive knowledge of the art of warfare, Seamus always preferred the axe and stuck with a unit of traditional MacSweeney Galloglass. Sean joined him, and Shea Óg stayed with the O’Rourkes. The O’Donnells departed in high spirits, especially Red Hugh since he knew that Hugh O’Neill was co-ordinating raids on the other side of Ulster to draw the English away from Connacht.
The raiders spread out on columns to avoid detection from Sligo Castle, the main English base in the area which controlled easy access to Connacht from the north. Once past the castle, the columns spread out. Renegade clan members from Connacht advised each column regarding the clan territories they passed through. They were supposed to identify local farmers and chieftains sympathetic to the O’Donnell and identify the collaborators with the English. However, the guides were not always impartial and also took revenge on their enemies and rivals.
The stream of cattle being redirected to Tirconnell pleased Red Hugh. Some of the local people moved too. They were encouraged to go north to Tirconnell as long as they swore loyalty to Red Hugh. The rebels met little resistance, for the locals expected the raids to continue until the English defeated the O’Donnell in battle.
Once Red Hugh heard the English were rallying their forces in Connacht, he called the retreat. Sir Richard Bingham and his army of raw recruits tried to intercept Red Hugh as he returned to Tirconnell, but the latter easily evaded him. MacSweeney Galloglass gave cover to the raiders, expertly herding the cattle and covering the retreat, so the locals or the English recovered very little of what was taken. They spent the next couple of days counting cattle and dividing the spoils between the O’Donnell lords and their allies. The mercenaries and allies in the camp were treated to an endless supply of beef and ale to celebrate their success. Red Hugh ensured he had a considerable surplus, and when he knew what was set aside, he sent his mother to Scotland once more to bring back redshanks.
He was further encouraged by news that O’Neill raided the lands of Sir Henry Bagenal, and the counties of Meath and Louth, even penetrating as far as the Pale. Encouraged by the successes of the Confederacy, Red Hugh ordered another raid int
o Connacht.
Seamus enjoyed the successes of the raid, and his men had performed well. His band of veterans had attracted other experienced soldiers with no fixed or firm allegiance to any clan swelling their ranks. He promoted those with leadership skills and assigned them with men to lead. The rest were trained to fight like a traditional Galloglass. He was acquainted with Spanish methods from his time in the Netherlands and could mould his men to operate effectively with the pike and shot, both enhancing his reputation and his usefulness to the O’Donnells. He was rising through the ranks and catching the eye of Red Hugh.
* * *
The next day Red Hugh summoned Seamus to meet him in one of his private rooms. Red Hugh stared out the window with his back to the door as Seamus entered. Eoghan McToole O’Gallagher stood in the background. The table was awash with maps, and Eoghan’s face was a prelude of seriousness.
Seamus stood and announced himself, and Red Hugh acknowledged him with a brief nod before getting straight to business.
“Seamus, things are looking up for the confederation of the North. But we need to expand it into Connacht and Leinster to have any hope of a strong Irish army before the Spanish army arrives,” Red Hugh puffed his chest out to show that he would lead this Irish army.
“Is there news from Spain?” Seamus asked.
“The archbishops of Ireland put our case to the king at any opportunity. They have told us that the Spanish king will send a mission soon.”
“Hopefully, that will lead to something this time,” replied Seamus.
“Indeed, but the more we prepare, the stronger our position we will be when they arrive, and the English are defeated. You can play an important role.”
“Thank you, lord, for such high praise. What would you wish me to do?”
“Our next raid will be deep into Connacht. I have assembled some men that know Leinster well. Break off with these men when we reach the lower Shannon. Go to Wicklow. Use these men to beef up the resistance. Then return here with Hugh Boye MacDavitt. We need him to help train our armies so we can take on the English in the field. I cannot stress the importance of your mission. Eoghan will bring you to meet your men.”