The Welshmen of Tyrawley

by Graham Barratt

  She let out a scream that was heard through the bell-tower and down the street. She was pushed out of the church, onto the ground and wept as the door was swung shut behind her.

  Niall stepped forward and spoke quietly to the leader as it was confirmed, they were to lose their sight. One by one, each of the men and boys were bound, gagged and led up the track and locked in the church. After several hours of searching, the clansmen were satisfied that they had all the men and youths. The next element of the plan was initiated to blind around thirty-five men and boys.

  The Barretts returned in force with carts for the boys, who were loaded directly. The men were blindfolded and bound together for the short journey. They were made to walk to their fate, alongside the mounted horses. Feet were roped together to limit the footpace, length and prevent any possibility of them running away. Many wives and mothers ran out into the streets and continued to beg for mercy from the Barretts. It was hopeless. As the begging turned to screams, they were ushered away from Carn towards Garranard, where they would be well away from the men. Their pleas were futile.

  The clansmen were fury-fuelled by the notion of the murder of one of their own at the hands of a whole community. The instincts and pomposity of a tribal mob had whipped up extreme rage over the day. Rage turned to tribal hatred for the Lynotts and little mercy would be given until the punishments were dealt. As they left the village, the women were whipped and beaten if they did not leave. Their part in the murder had not been overlooked. As one mother tried to stop a horse from moving on, the rider dismounted and struck her down with a club. She collapsed to the ground silent, eyes open, winded and stunned.

  Not even MacPadine would now be able to call off the action being taken to exact revenge for the killing. Many Barretts did not even know Dermot, but that did not count for anything. What mattered was that a clan member had been brutally killed by a community of lower clansmen and now it was time for the Barretts to exact their revenge. As the victims stumbled and struggled with their ropes and gags, the Barretts kicked and spat at them. Their resolve to escape had been dashed and they had no appetite for running.

  The village grew silent apart from a few innocent infants playing in the streets and yards. If the Barretts were to carry out their promise, it would surely be evil on earth. No one was to be spared their wrath and the speed of this justice was too swift for there to be any hope for the Lynotts.

  Daille La’, the Day of the Blind

  As they made their way to the Dubhán River at Carn, MacPadine held up one arm and signalled the commencement of the sentence. A lone rider approached from the distance, waving a sword to attract attention. He dismounted and spoke directly to MacPadine. It was his son Richard Barrett.

  ‘Father, I came as quickly as I could and had difficulty getting through the guards you have put in place in the approach to these townlands. I have heard about the judgement you have pronounced on these people. It is cruel, you cannot exact such revenge on a clan when only one man has lost his life.’

  ‘Yes, it was only one man, but he was in important man of the Nemed and his death must be avenged. I will not debate this with you now. The decision has been made so do not attempt to judge me, my son, this is not your quarrel, not on this day anyway.’

  ‘You are wrong, Father. It is indeed my place to dispute these actions. I am your tanist and I answer to the actions of the Barretts in every way in which you do. When you pass on, it is me who will be required to explain the actions of my father and in order to do that with adequate conscience, I need to support the decisions which you have made. Father, you have been a most worthy leader for many years, but you must not assault these men. It is an unspeakable crime. Let the Lord Deputy deal with it.’

  ‘You are right. As my tanist, you will be accountable, but that is a responsibility that goes with the title, and it is your call as to whether you shall relinquish it to your brother.’

  John grinned at Richard. MacPadine continued,

  ‘Do you really believe that the English in Dublin would ensure justice is done to our people? No Richard, it would not. This will be an act of a people from a different age and according to our old laws.’

  ‘Father, I know this, if you go ahead with your plan, then we could be punished heavily, especially if without our knowing, the Lynotts have been allied to the English through their plans of surrender.’

  ‘Exactly Richard, it is through my concern over your future tenure as leader and as my tanist that I decided to spare you from these events. I did it to protect your reputation, now leave this place and do not return.’

  ‘Father, no, I beg you.’

  ‘Warriors do not beg, my son.’

  MacPadine called for two mounted clansmen and gave orders to ensure that Richard was returned to Ballysakeery and ordered to stay there until the Fianna returned and the punishment had been exacted. Richard’s horse was led away from Carn by the riders.

  The distress on his face was evident as he apologised to the Lynott wives that had congregated around the blockades. He need not have bothered. The response he received was angry and cursing. As he passed over Ballintubber Bridge, he received an accurately aimed spit. Accepting the insult, he continued his journey. He was a Barrett and they considered him to be as responsible as his father.

  At a farm opposite the castle, a makeshift compound of wood and rope, similar to that used to contain sheep, was awaiting the men. The compound was surrounded on three sides by trees and a thick wood. In the middle of the wood was a beaten path which led to the River Dubhán. MacPadine addressed the main party of men at the river, where the rush of water would drown out his words and they would not be overheard by the captives.

  ‘The Lynotts will be held here and each one will be called forward for their penance. When they have received their treatment, they will then be assembled and we will lead them all back to the village.’

  Skiddy Wogan was then extracted from the prisoners. He was to be the first victim and was quickly led away from the compound. Skiddy, a humble young man, was now petrified at the prospect of being needled. He tried to run but was blocked by a horse and beaten to the ground. As he regained his feet, he knew that there was no real hope of escaping the fate that was about to befall him. He eventually stopped struggling when he became exhausted. Two men held each of Skiddy’s rope bound arms tightly and set an example for the other young people. He was led through the wood to the river, where a pillory had been set into the bank. Skiddy was clamped into the rack and the latch applied to secure him. A wooden stake was then forced into the soft ground and the other end jammed under his chin. He was now unable to move his head.

  A young trainee physician was to perform the first procedure as a crowd of Barrett men gathered around to see how they were also to perform the blinding. There were three pillories and too many people to blind for one man, certainly in the time left before sunset. One of Skiddy’s eyelids was lifted with a thumb as the head was steadied. A large needle was pushed into the pupil as he let out a scream. The needle was twisted around in order to gouge out large enough hole to damage the lens and allow enough eye fluid to ooze. The eye was then pressed as a squirt of fluid shot out and hit the face of the young “doctor”. The process was repeated for the next eye and a second scream filled the air. The victim cried in agony and distress as the last image his eyes would see disappeared and became a memory.

  Skiddy was then pushed crying in agony before being led to a second area upstream and was told to wait. He continued to cry in agony and horror as he felt the liquid from his eyes oozing through his eyelids and onto his hands.

  Niall could hear the screams and was horrified but insisted on being the next to undergo the procedure. It was he who had stirred up the Lynott men into maintaining the frenzied attack on Dermot. It was he who had co-ordinated the disposal of the body. Niall had also baptised Dermot with his new name and suggested putting the body down the well to ensure that deed was complete. He had been the main per
petrator of the crime against Dermot and he would take his punishment with honour. Maybe though, once he had been punished, the Barretts would spare the others.

  As he was led to the pillory, he plainly heard the cries of grief from Skiddy. He resolved to be silent through the whole process and would not allow anyone to see his pain and anguish.

  ‘I will not grant the Barretts any benefit from seeing my suffering. I will remain strong and pray to my redeemer.’

  Niall would give them no satisfaction. He was determined that his ordeal would be endured without any expression of pain or suffering. He entered the pillory and braced himself for the needle as he said a silent prayer. Holding his own eyelids open, every muscle was rigid as he braced. The needle was pushed into each of his eyes. He stood up expressionless as he prayed in his mind.

  ’May the blessing of light be on me, light without and light within. May the blessed sunlight shine on me and warm my heart till it glows like a greatest of fires.’

  Niall was led to Skiddy as the two broken men embraced. One by one, the same fate befell more men until a group of Barretts gathered around the victims for the next stage of the process. Each man was told to cross the river by way of the stepping stones amidst jeering and laughter from the Barrett offenders. As the each victim filed down the bank towards the raging river, they began the task of crossing the stones. Most of them had to feel for the next stone with the tip of their toes. One by one, they made their way across the wet and slimy green stones. As if there had not been enough torture, each man slipped off the stones and fell into the river. The current took them to the eddy created by the turn in the river downstream. Some almost drowned as they were fished out one by one with pikes hooked on their belts.

  Niall was determined to keep his dignity and called to his kin from the rear of the group.

  ‘Be strong one and all. Remember your pride as Lynotts and give no sport to these bastards. Stay alert, keep your chins high and walk the steps of Christ.’

  Every man and boy who attempted the crossing fell into the stream until it was Niall’s turn to cross the river. Balancing on one leg and using the other to probe for the next stone, he moved from one to the next as he recited further prayers in his head rather than allow the Barretts to witness his nerves.

  ‘O Lord, please forgive our people, be between us and harm and protect us from the torments of this world and the antics of this cruel race.’

  Niall was headstrong and proud. He would not let the Barretts break him and defiantly progressed from one stone to the next. He succeeded in crossing the river without falling. Reaching out, he grasped the bank and stepped from the last stone to stand up before waving a finger at the aggressors. It was unexpected, but he was then led back across the stones to the pillories before being “needled” in both eyes again, this time by the trainee physician.

  Unknown until they had completed it, the ordeal of the stepping stones was a test. It was to check the effectiveness of the blinding. All men who successfully crossed the river would only have been able to do so if they had some residue sight. The plan was to re-needle any person who did not fall or slip into the river. Niall was led once more to the stepping stones and again was ordered to make the crossing. He was now fully blind, but refused to be humiliated and was still defiant. He felt that this was mainly his fault and he should receive the greater punishment. He was still determined to cross again successfully.

  MacPadine had been watching the events from the left bank. On the opposite side, Niall was once more standing with folded arms and a defiant expression on his face. He gave the order to allow Niall to re-join the Lynotts.

  ‘Leave him be, he has taken his punishment twice and with honour, he is a strong warrior. The needles did their work. Take him back to the others then take them all back to their bitches.’

  Niall would not have to endure further needling. This time he had the respect of MacPadine. As his hands were being tied, Niall faced the direction of his voice.

  ‘Sir, I would cross these stones a hundred times until your resolve waned and the needles became blunt. You are a clan of dogs and rather than try one man, you chose to chastise a race. These events avenged the brutal murder of a vile libertine, and glutton of a man and cast good people into an earthly lifetime of torture. You condemned a tribe of fellow Irishmen to misery. I tell you this day, your clan will be remorseful of the cruelty you did to my people and we will not forget. Through our suffering, our sons will grow stronger, both in body and mind. There will come a day when all Barretts will pay for this deed.’

  MacPadine twitched his mount and moved closer. Niall stood with head and chin high as Richard’s arm flexed his sword and struck Niall with the blunt side on his back. Niall fell to the ground and got up quickly, turning to offer Richard another strike. With no further words, MacPadine rode off towards the village.

  The physical punishment of the Lynotts was over. However, in a way, the suffering of the clan was only just beginning. The women were allowed to collect the men and boys and they came with carts and horses. With little delay, the Lynotts all made their way back to the village. This time, they were not bound, there was no need. The clan was subdued, broken and scared. In the village, other women and young had endured rape and assaults from the guards who were ordered to contain them within the village boundaries. Some were beaten for overstepping the mark, either physically or through verbal anger.

  Skiddy, Niall and the rest of the Lynott men arrived back at the village after sunset. The grief and suffering was clear on their faces. The wounds in their eyes were clear. Some had broken bones through the struggling and their attempts to run away, some had bruises through beatings, but all were now crushed. The village and the clan had been devastated. The Barretts rode out of the village and left with only one message.

  ‘In the name of Richard Barrett and the memory of Dermot of Nephin, we will be back here soon to collect the levy by money or livestock. Be sure and prepared to have it ready. If you do not, then you may expect further punishment, maybe you will lose your gonads too.’

  Two days later, the bell of the church rang out through the village once more. Niall called a meeting in the church with those who had the enthusiasm or the courage to attend. The meeting included several elders and priests. The very eldest were sighted, but the younger ones were now blind. Only a few of the families were present as they knew that the meeting would be political and since the clan had been broken, there was little to discuss. For now, clan politics didn’t seem important as many families had only started to come to terms with the grief of the situation, the pain and the discomfort. The villagers all knew why the bells were being rung, but many ignored the call. The meeting began with random speeches by elders.

  ‘We shall be strong and emerge from this horror one day. Our pain will soon subdue and we will discover new ways of doing the same things. Soon, our young men who were not blinded will help us and our lives will improve as we adjust. Our men must now perform tasks that women usually do and our women must guide and assist when working the land and animals.’

  ‘We will send people to Dublin to meet with the Lord Deputy to seek justice. This crime must not be allowed to go unpunished.’

  One of the elders who sat near to the altar stood up and spoke,

  ‘But what of our crime? What will the Lord Deputy have to say for that?’

  ‘We have paid in excess of our crime; the Barretts must be punished for theirs and we must at least try to redress the outrages they committed if we are to sleep in our beds.’

  Many proud and vengeful speeches were made that day, but there was nothing they could do to which would ease their anguish. After the meeting, a delegation was quickly assembled for Dublin. It consisted of an elder who was an experienced negotiator and his family. He, his son and his grandson were all blinded by the Barretts. Riding was too dangerous for blind people, so a woman drove the cart. It was about 160 miles to Dublin and depending on the reception and the availabilit
y of the Lord Deputy, they would be gone for many days.

  It was as expected, their journey and plans were in vain. The Lord Deputy refused an audience and viewed the incident as another clan feud, which deserved no further attention when there were so many issues of rebellion to be addressed. Why should the Lord Deputy step in to address a feud between the clans, one apparently loyal to the throne and a minor clan punished which was probably plotting against the English?

  In the Barony of Tyrawley, it became clear that the clan now had huge problems in managing their livelihood and it would take years to adjust, if it was ever possible. Their suffering was immeasurable. One isolated and proud family starved to death rather than ask the community or the church for help. Their turf house was pulled down and they were buried where they lay.

  Work on the land was hopeless without able men with eyesight. Maybe they should have chosen the option of castration?

  The suffering of the Lynotts had only just begun.

  Moyry Pass

  By August 1600, Donovan and Duald had been fighting in the rebellions for over ten years. Through many battles and skirmishes they had been fortunate in avoiding death or serious injury at the hands of the English. Their good fortune was partly down to the value and protection afforded the precious cannons and gunners who fired them. Many cannons used in the battles had not only been confiscated from the armada and other Spanish incursions, but their armoury had been enhanced with further culverins which had been taken from the English.

  When operated correctly, placed in the correct position and aimed well, these small cannon were deadly and a major asset to the Irish, particularly for defence. If the cannon positions were not well defended and concealed, then they would be a target for the opposition’s guns or risk an attack on their flank. For the gunners known as the Welshmen of Tyrawley, their work was reasonably rewarding, and their reputation was now the legend of the Irish. They were skilled men with highly developed methods and their life expectancy now depended on the luck of the enemy rather than the hazards of the job. The reputation was even greater for Duald and Donovan. The two men had been fortunate and so far, the English had failed to either target or injure them with any success. O’Neill had always ensured that his precious artillery was well protected.