The Welshmen of Tyrawley

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The Welshmen of Tyrawley Page 18

by Graham Barratt


  She had though, toughened and if any man dare attack her or her child again, she would fight back and kill again if necessary. She would do all she could to prevent and avenge any further attacks.

  The Execution of Cirilo

  At Dromahair near Sligo, a castle field, banked on two sides was allocated as the firing range for the training of the new gunners. Two gun emplacements were to be established set back into two man-made hillocks. Several new gun teams were assigned for training, though not all at the same time. They were placed many yards apart to reduce the damage and losses to other teams if there was an incident. The chance of a misfire was at least 15 per cent in any given battle and even higher when in-experienced men were firing. Life expectancy for gunners could then be estimated at no more than seven battles. It was therefore a very dangerous activity, especially as new gunners were expected to be close to the firing in order to learn from the experience. This was important though and ensured that they acquired the tacit knowledge that Donovan had gained while on board the Rata.

  Donovan and Duald led one team each. However, Donovan did his best to oversee the activities of Duald’s gunners at all times as well as that of his own. Many Irish were reluctant to take direct orders from Donovan and so Duald often had to repeat and reinforce the orders. About half of the recruits seemed less aggressive towards Donovan, and so to reduce the hostility toward him, it was they who were assigned to his charge.

  A wealth of knowledge is needed in order to successfully set up, target and fire a demi-culverin, but there were several important fundamentals. It was crucial that after each firing, the inside of the barrel was doused to cool it down. This was to ensure that the newly loaded powder was not ignited by residue burning deposits still in the barrel and cause a premature firing or worse, an explosion of the barrel. After several practice firings, the teams were tasked with increasing their firing rate and competed against each other. At first, Duald’s team was distinctly faster until confidence and respect had been built up within Donovan’s. In order to conserve stocks for training, only the smaller culverins and half-charges of powder were used. After a succession of several firings, the barrels were re-aimed and a group of “idiot” boys were employed to dig the shot out the ground for re-use, either intact, as pieces of shrapnel, or melted down to make new balls.

  After several days, additional stocks of powder had become available, and Duald made a successful case to have more powder for “full” charge firing on the larger cannons. Because of the size of shot and powder charges, firing had to be limited, but nonetheless, it was important that all teams gained practice on the bigger guns.

  To check that the practice of loading and firing was precise and that shortcuts were not being taken by either team, Donovan would glance across to Duald’s team to visually check on their activities. Often just a nod would indicate where there was a problem.

  On the first morning of firing the bigger guns, Donovan was keen to ensure that nothing went wrong. After three firings by both teams, and after taking his attention away from his own gunners, he noticed that the barrel was not being doused on every firing by Duald’s team, but the powder and ball had been rammed in. There was an immediate danger that if the barrel temperature and embers were high enough, it would ignite the powder. If the new powder was slightly damp, then there could be a delay in ignition. Also, there was a danger when a “dry” sponge had not followed a wet sponge, there may be damp residue powder, which after a delay could ignite. As a precaution, there was a 5-minute dwell between firings.

  At each firing, Donovan quickly called out to the men to take cover. They all dived into the safety hole behind an earth bank and waited for the explosion. After several minutes, it was doubtful that the explosion was going to happen and all was well. In order to ensure that there would be no risk, the outside of the gun was also doused and left to cool longer.

  Relieved at the avoidance of a catastrophe, Duald emphasised with frenzy the correct procedure to the frightened men. Extra precautions, delays and procedures had been applied when cannons were being fired in practice sessions. There was no point in completely following battle conditions as this would involve un-necessary risk. To be absolutely sure that the danger was over, the gunners re-doused the barrel until it was only warm to the touch before the firing drill resumed. Duald walked to the gunners to discuss the incident. He was visibly angry at the lapse of concentration that had almost led to a calamity. Donovan was also enraged at the lack of attention to the basic process and scolded the men as well as Duald. After calming down slightly, he called out to the young gunners to take more care and to remember the firing drills. As well as the disappointment in his ability as an instructor, Duald felt embarrassed at the failure of his team. He struck Donovan on his back with the heel of his hand, knocking him to the ground. He had to lash out at someone, and Donovan gave him the excuse he needed.

  Duald bent down and whispered in Donovan’s ear.

  ‘Do not scold my men again. I do the scolding; if you want to live any longer, you will remember your place.’

  Duald was usually a decent man but such behaviour by a slave was out of place and intolerable under any situation, let alone in front of his men. His credibility would be questioned if Donovan’s actions were allowed to go un-checked, and his authority needed to be re-stated. Inside, Duald was a feeling of anxiety and guilt. Did Donovan really deserve his punishment?

  The incident exposed the fragility of Donovan’s position. In spite of the danger that Duald’s team had caused, Donovan forgot his place in the team and had overstepped the mark. He picked himself up, dusted himself down before massaging his neck and shoulder. After looking briefly at Duald with hurt eyes, he returned to his team to continue with the training drills. Both teams all resumed to their positions and readied for the next firing.

  It was important that each cannon ball was checked for gauge and uniformity before being rammed into the barrel. As part of the instruction and drill process, the shot selected was of varying sizes. The teams were instructed to double check that the shot was of the correct size and of uniform shape with an emphasis on making a double check before loading. Each “checked” ball would then be placed on a beaded wooden tray and the balls built up into a small pyramid.

  Unknown to either trainer, it was not clear whether the teams had used the tool to check the shot gauge. In battle, as long as there was confidence that the shot had all been checked, this element of loading could be omitted to save time and increase the firing rate. Following the aftermath of the last oversight, both teams reluctantly returned to their drills.

  What was to happen next was probably due to the commotion of the last incident and the resulting loss of attention from Donovan, who now felt averse to help supervise Duald’s team. The next shot being used by Duald’s team was selected for firing, but the shape of the shot had not been checked in the tool before ramming home the shot. The ball had not been turned correctly in the tool and it was not uniform. Meanwhile, the delay in firing had caused the barrel diameter to shrink and close around the shot, jamming it in the barrel.

  This check had been an important element of the firing drill and even in battle was a calculated risk against the confidence of the gunner who sorted the shot. To leave out this check, could cost the lives of the gunner crew and potentially many more soldiers, particularly if the cannon or culverin were destroyed. He was conscious that to give further rebuke to Duald’s team would be to provoke more beatings. He was uneasy with questioning whether Duald had checked this with his team, and so said nothing.

  Suddenly, as Donovan glanced toward Duald’s team, the overbearing figure of a gallowglass appeared with his kern from behind the hillock. The kern provided battle cover for MacSweeney by displaying their halberds with a look of dogged defiance. William was not a brave man and remained mounted on his horse behind the hillock. Confident of a kill, he thought it fitting to prepare the hessian bag that was to hold Donovan’s head.

&
nbsp; MacSweeney moved towards Donovan swiftly to prevent any escape. Apart from the two teams of gunners, there were no other people in the vicinity. It looked like the perfect opportunity to make his kill and then withdraw before being detected by the main contingent of several thousand rebels. Donovan was already kneeling down to pick up a shot for the next firing. The gallowglass stood over him, to avoid stress on his wrists, swung the weapon backwards and rested it against his shoulder.

  Donovan froze at the sight of this huge Scottish killer. MacSweeney’s adrenalin was high and he was not concerned with other people around him. His prey was the black man in front of him and it was obvious to everyone watching that these men were here to dispatch Donovan.

  ‘What have I done? Please tell me what have I done? Are you sure it is me that you seek?’

  The gallowglass continued to prepare for his one and only strike at the man. He held the blade high above his head while speaking to his victim. His Scottish dialect was broken but clear enough for Donovan to understand.

  ‘You are the one called Cirilo?’

  Duald called out, ‘No, he is called Donovan.’

  Donovan replied with an uncharacteristic lie, ‘Sire, I am truly known as Donovan, the dark man. I have not heard of this Cirilo.’

  ‘You are Cirilo na Long, the slave of the ships. Both your looks and the ship necklace around your neck prove to me that you are the one I seek and you are from the sea. You must prepare to meet the devil. Your death is the wish of the Bourkes and your head is my prize. Very soon your head will provide recompense for Walter and those you have offended. Once your head is removed, I will spit in your eyes. Keep still so I may strike your head at the back and keep your face intact.’

  ‘What has he done to offend you?’ called Duald. ‘He is an Irish rebel and is needed in our fight against the Queen.’

  Donovan was also trying to understand what was happening, what had he done to deserve execution like a murderer? Much to William’s disgust, MacSweeney addressed the camp.

  ‘I am not here to provide a court hearing but will explain a little. This man lay with the whore daughter of Walter Bourke. She disgraced her family and her honour may only be restored through the death of the offender. Your head will atone the crime and restore the honour of Walter, the MacWilliam.’

  Donovan’s face dropped as he realised he was indeed the intended target. Somehow his love of Emily had become knowledge and Walter was now seeking revenge for the defilement of his daughter. If he survived this attack, which seemed very unlikely, then he would not be able to return to Crossmolina and would never see Emily again.

  ‘Do you think you can come to Ireland and take your pick of women? That is something for even I, as a Gael and Scotsman is seldom allowed. I have heard that she is a fetching woman and you would surely be a lucky man to be left with such memories if it were not that your life were about to end.’

  Duald and his team were poised to attack the gallowglass before the kern raced over to the gunners and threatened them with swords. Donovan called out.

  ‘That is not how it happened. I fell in love with the woman and she loved me too. I still love her.’

  Duald’s team stood down in amazement at the acknowledgment that Donovan had transgressed the honour of the Bourkes.’ William, still mounted heard the conversation and not being inclined towards women, squirmed at the realisation of the sexual encounter, let alone with his sister.

  ‘MacSweeney, I would be most thankful for you to end the discussion now. Please hand me the head with no further delay.’

  MacSweeney frowned and treated William’s comments with visible contempt before continuing as though nothing was said. Thomas feigned reluctance as he bound Donovan’s hands tightly behind his back. He followed this with a gentle push of the victim’s head, indicating that he should now kneel forward to rest his head on the cart box which had been placed in front of him by MacSweeney’s kern.

  ‘I am in the employ of Walter and his female son. I must do them favour by taking your head to restore the family honour. Pray to your maker and prepare to meet the devil.’

  With both hands, MacSweeney raised the huge claymore sword above his head. Duald was shocked and for the moment any inclination to defend Donovan had left him. It was certain that all attempts to interfere with the process would be risking one’s own life. Donovan looked across at Duald who was now half-way between his own team of gunners and himself. As he looked past Duald, he realised that the team, who had not seen the commotion, were still loading the cannon and were about to fire it without a check of the shot. To fire the cannon now could result in the explosive disintegration of the cannon. Donovan dropped to his knees as he called out to Duald’s team.

  ‘No, stop, don’t.’ Duald looked over his shoulder and realised what was happening. The gunners were firing an un-checked shot, which was in a cooled barrel.

  MacSweeney mistook Donovan’s words as a beg for mercy and failed to look toward the team of gunners. Instead, he continued to swing back the huge sword across his shoulder and braced his body for the blow he was about to make. He praised himself in being able to take off heads with one blow after much experience in the rebellions. Further west, he had dispatched many shipwrecked Spanish sailors on the Irish strands. More recently though, he was out of practice and relished the opportunity to test himself with his first kill in more than 10 years.

  ‘Give my regards to God and the others I have already sent the way of the faithful.’

  Donovan looked away from the gunners and towards MacSweeney. The Culverin exploded with an un-characteristic loud thud, rather than the whoosh and thud of cannon fire. One young gunner had been standing behind the cannon and was immediately cut in two by the blast. His upper body half separated and dropped to the ground in spasm as blood pumped out from the half which contained the beating heart. The other gunner had seen Donovan call out and had dived safely into the scrape several yards away, behind the soil mound.

  The spooked horse threw William, but he was not hurt. He looked across at MacSweeney as if expecting him to continue the deathblow to the neck of his victim. The sword was no longer above him. It had disappeared and so had the arm that was holding it. For a short time every man in the area had been stunned by the explosion and tried to assess in their minds what had actually happened. Donovan was covered in blood, brains and body matter. He was stunned and motionless on the ground, wondering if any of the carnage was from his body. It was not.

  MacSweeney was still standing with no change of position or gait since the explosion just seconds earlier, but his helmet was gone. With his long hair blowing in the wind, it was difficult to see what had happened. Then he started to turn towards William and it became obvious that something was not right with him. One side of MacSweeney’s head was missing and had disappeared along with the helmet. A high-pitched hiss and scream was heard as air pushed its way past the blood obstructing MacSweeney’s exposed airway in his neck. The huge figure lost all shape and slumped to the ground coming to rest partly on top of Donovan. MacSweeney’s body trembled, went silent and then nothing. The gallowglass warrior was dead.

  As soon as the echo of the explosion had waned, in a state of panic, William raced to the top of the hillock to get a better view and to find out what had happened. When he looked at the scene, he could see blood and flesh scattered around the cannon emplacement. Donovan was lying on the ground, covered in MacSweeney’s blood. He was still stunned by the shock wave of the blast and the blow of the body falling on him. In blind fear, William turned and raced away before O’Rourke’s men, who were heading to the scene would be able get to him to ask some very difficult questions. They would want to know who he was and what his business was with the gun teams.

  The outcome for Donovan was mixed. He did not lose his life at the hands of a murderous gallowglass, but instead, he had lost a keen young gunner boy, who had been eager to serve and fight for his freedom.

  After surviving the attack, the ca
use of the explosion worried them a great deal. The shot was not checked for shape and size, it jammed in the cooled barrel and it was a mistake that neither Duald nor Donovan would ever make again.

  Very quickly, details of the incident became known to O’Rourke and his leaders. Thomas and the other kern with MacSweeney were left behind by William after he fled the scene. They had failed to acquire the head of the slave for Walter and no longer had the gallowglass to employ their skills. They were captured by the rebels and faced serious consequences as they had been complicit in an attempt to murder one of the Irish Army. After the facts of the incident were established, they were both given orders by the rebels to fight for them or face on pain of death. There was no option, but to join the rebellion and Thomas though was pleased with the outcome. He was eventually assigned a posting with the gunners. His plan had worked perfectly and he was now embedded in the rebel army and in an ideal position to exact his revenge on the slave and any man who protected him. A return to Tyrawley would have been very difficult for them. Either kern would not have been welcomed by Walter and was no alternative for either man. They willingly stayed at Dromahair with the rebel army.

 

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