‘Being alive is no small thing,’ she tells him. ‘I hate a man who snivels even more than I hate a coward. There is some excuse for fear. There is never any excuse for whining. A man who pities himself has no pity left over for others.’
Granuaile fears they may all soon need pity. Malby has died, and his successor as governor of Connacht is Richard Bingham, a man she knows only by reputation. Bingham has stated publicly that the Irish are vermin.
The campaign to conquer Desmond has proved very expensive for the English. They finally succeeded, but only by devastating Munster with fire and famine. If Bingham has his way, Connacht will receive the same treatment.
Meanwhile Sir John Perrot has succeeded Lord Grey as lord deputy of Ireland. Unlike Bingham, Perrot is said to be a moderate man. He believes persuasion is preferable to armed force. Therefore the policy of ‘Surrender and Regrant’ is being urged upon the Irish chieftains. If they surrender their holdings and their claims to an Irish title, they are granted new English titles. They are also given back some, though not all, of the lands they formerly held.
The English ignore the fact that this land was held in common for the chieftain’s clan. It was never his personal property to barter away.
They are tricking us into selling the very earth beneath our feet! Granuaile fumes. The earth that holds our fathers’ fathers. But they cannot buy the sea.
The sea is mine.
Chapter Twenty–Four
Stealing Tibbott
A new document is drawn up by Perrot’s officials. Called ‘The Composition of Connacht’, it reflects sweeping changes in the possession of land. The ancient clanholds are carved up and lost. Chieftains who resist are slain and their holdings seized anyway. Perrot may be moderate compared to Richard Bingham, but his policies are destroying Gaelic Ireland.
Granuaile continues to sail with her fleet. Although she is careful to avoid English warships, her trade and piracy go on as before. This is the tradition she inherited. She cannot imagine any other way of living.
Granuaile’s name turns up with increasing frequency in reports to the new governor of Connacht. At first Bingham does not take the matter seriously. A woman? She cannot be much of a threat. Then he learns that she is importing guns into Ulster. Worse still, she is harassing merchant ships along the coast. Valuable trade is being lost.
Bingham has secretly arranged for a percentage of all trade in western waters to find its way to his own purse.
He sets himself to learn as much as he can about the notorious pirate queen. One of the facts he discovers is the existence of her youngest son, Tibbott Bourke. By all reports Tibbott is the blood in his mother’s heart.
In July of 1584, while Granuaile is overseeing a refitting of her favourite galley, a messenger arrives on Clare Island. ‘Richard Bingham has taken your son Tibbott prisoner!’ he blurts out.
She stares at him in horror. ‘Are you certain?’
‘I am one of Tibbott’s servants. I was there when they seized him and carried him away in a cart.’
Granuaile leaps to her feet and begins to stride back and forth across the room, striking the palm of one hand with the fist of the other. The messenger is terrified by the expression on her face. ‘I would have saved him if I could!’ he tells her repeatedly.
Granuaile does not hear him. She is muttering to herself. ‘Bingham commanded me to cease my seafaring operations, but I would not. With Toby as a hostage he thinks he can force me to submit to his will.’
Suddenly she throws up her head and fixes the frightened messenger with a fierce glare. ‘Where have they taken my son, do you know?’
‘I overheard the orders being given. He was to be delivered to Richard Bingham’s brother George, at Ballymote Castle in Sligo.’
Granuaile nods. ‘I know the place. It is well fortified, we cannot hope to break him out of there. But perhaps we can get a message to him. Can I trust you?’
‘Are you not Granuaile?’ the man replies. ‘You can trust me with your life, for I would give mine for your sake.’
She hastily writes a letter to Tibbott, asking the exact circumstances of his confinement. She waits with impatience for an answer. When it comes Granuaile tears off the seal of red wax and devours the words with her eyes.
Toby writes that he is comfortable and being treated well. ‘Like one of the family,’ he explains. ‘I have my own quarters and am allowed the freedom of the house.’
Granuaile folds his letter and taps it against her teeth as she stares into space.
We are presented with an opportunity here, she tells herself. Even disasters can be turned to profit if one is clever. She reaches for pen and paper.
August, the Year of Our Lord 1584, Clare Island
My dear Toby,
While you are in Bingham’s household, you must learn to read and write English. Elizabeth’s administrators want everything bound up in documents. I need someone who can understand their language. Someone to be my spy within the enemy’s walls.
You will be free in time, I swear it. Meanwhile, do whatever is necessary to keep yourself safe. For my sake. It is far from where you were born that life takes you, so adjust your sails to the wind.
Always,
Granuaile
She writes calmly and reassuringly to her son, but inside she is frantic. Bingham has Toby. Dear God, he has Toby!
With an aching heart, she gives the order for her fleet to be beached indefinitely.
The winter comes early this year, and lasts long. Cold winds howl around the tower of Rockfleet. Granuaile stays inside most of the time. She cannot bear the sight of the empty bay.
She is not defeated, though. She is merely waiting.
Chapter Twenty–Five
Summoned
In June of 1585, Richard Bingham summons the Mayo chieftains to Galway. The summons also includes Granuaile, to her surprise. She has been beseeching him for months to discuss the matter of her son’s captivity, but until now he has ignored her. It is a cruel and deliberate torture.
When she arrives in Galway Granuaile does not know what to expect. So many dreadful tales are being told of Bingham. And as soon as she sees him, she knows the stories are true. Richard Bingham has a long, cold, sharp-featured face, his dark beard tightly trimmed in the English fashion. He reminds Granuaile of a weasel. A weasel dressed in a velvet doublet and a high collar.
In the large chamber that serves as his audience room, he moves down the line of assembled chieftains while his secretary calls each person by name. Bingham speaks to a few, hardly glances at others. But when he reaches Granuaile, their eyes meet. Lock. Something passes between them.
Occasionally, when two strange hounds meet in the road, the hackles rise on their necks. Even though they have never seen each other before, they bare their fangs and stiffen their forelegs. They will fight to the death if someone does not pull them apart.
That is what happens between Granuaile and Richard Bingham.
She tries to hide her emotions. ‘I hoped you would have my son with you,’ she says politely. ‘It would have been proper to include Tibbott among the Mayo chieftains, as his father’s heir.’
Bingham smiles, revealing narrow yellow teeth. ‘You were hoping to help him escape,’ he replies shrewdly. Abruptly he snaps his fingers. His secretary begins reading from a list that contains the names of the chieftains who have accepted Surrender and Regrant. ‘Warrants will be issued for those who have refused,’ Bingham announces, ‘and for those who are absent. It is assumed they are traitors. Their deaths will be sought.’
Granuaile gasps. ‘My son …’
‘Ah yes. Your son. First let us discuss your situation, Grace O’Malley. If you are willing to be agreeable, you will be allowed to live out your life undisturbed. You may even attend Tibbott Bourke’s wedding.’
Her jaw drops. ‘What?’
‘Tibbott has been writing to you, I understand. Has he not told you of his betrothal?’ Bingham is enjoying this enormou
sly. ‘My brother George introduced your son to Maude O’Connor of Sligo, and now they are to be married. Is that not happy news? She is a fine young woman of unquestioned loyalty to the Queen, and your son is an intelligent man. Through this marriage our two peoples will develop new bonds of … friendship.’ Bingham smiles again. The smile of a weasel just before it kills.
Granuaile is struggling to understand. The Sligo O’Connors are a prominent Irish family who have accepted the dominance of the English. They have even changed the name of their daughter Maeve to Maude. And this is the young woman Toby will marry, Granuaile thinks. Through her, Bingham binds my son with a silken web. To control me. It is all done to control me. Men like Bingham use women as pawns.
But I am not like other women and the game is not over yet, no matter what Bingham thinks.
Chapter Twenty–Six
The Devil’s Hook
Although Owen and Murrough O’Flaherty are mentioned in the Composition of Connacht, these two sons of Granuaile have not signed the document. They refuse to acknowledge that the English have any right to redistribute Irish lands. The same is true for many of the Bourkes of Mayo. Even those who originally signed are beginning to regret their actions.
Throughout her life Granuaile has known when a storm was brewing, even before the first puff of wind. Her oldest son, Owen, is married to Edmund Bourke’s daughter. Granuaile sends him a message urging him to be cautious. ‘Give Bingham no reason to connect you with me,’ she suggests.
With his wife and dependents, Owen O’Flaherty withdraws to Ballinahinch Castle. At the end of January 1586, Richard Bingham hangs seventy members of the Bourke clan. But in the fastnesses of Iar Connacht, Granuaile’s oldest son is left at peace.
The following month The MacWilliam dies. Once again the English authorities fail to accept Edmund Bourke as the new chieftain, though many of the Bourkes regard him as the rightful heir. Although he is an old man, Edmund Bourke rebels. His rebellion is supported by his kinsman, The Devil’s Hook, who is married to Granuaile’s daughter Margaret. The Bourkes fight hard, but by March they are forced to retreat to an island stronghold in Lough Mask.
The Devil’s Hook sends to Granuaile for help.
When the message reaches Rockfleet she goes out onto the battlements and gazes across the bay toward Croagh Patrick. Richard is gone, Tibbott is far away. She has no one to confide in but God…and the holy mountain.
‘I have let Bingham frighten me for too long,’ she cries aloud, ‘and I hate being frightened. Enough is enough!’ Granuaile’s voice echoes across the expanse of blue water. ‘Enough is enough! Enough is enough!’
Sending for her personal boatmen, she sets out across the bay to Clare Island. There she orders her galleys back into the water.
Her fleet reaches Lough Mask as Richard Bingham is besieging the island. The sound of musket fire makes her blood simmer with excitement. It is like the old days again. Bingham is commanding several boats laden with warriors, but Granuaile has the advantage of more agile craft. Sweeping across the lake, she drives the English away from the island. The boat containing Bingham is overturned and he is nearly drowned.
His men raise a great cry that identifies him. Granuaile peers over the rail of her own galley. She thinks she sees a dark head bobbing in the water. ‘Shoot him!’ she shouts to her musketeers. ‘Blow him to bits!’
But musket fire is unreliable at best. At a distance, trying to hit a tiny target in a choppy lake, there is little hope of success.
Bingham is a strong swimmer. He makes it to shore, where a party of horsemen is waiting. ‘He will send for reinforcements,’ Granuaile warns her crew. ‘We must get my son-in-law off the island before we find ourselves badly outnumbered.’
They anchor in the shallows and help The Devil’s Hook and the others aboard. Then they set sail for Clew Bay. There are a hundred secret places in that vast wilderness of islands, where fugitives can hide and never be found.
Richard Bingham cannot admit that he has been outdone. He begins hanging those members of the Bourke clan within his reach – even those who have submitted to him and took no part in the revolt.
Tibbott Bourke seems safe enough, however. His personal connection with George Bingham offers protection. Heis even allowed to take his new wife back to Burrishoole.
Her success against Richard Bingham has strengthened Granuaile’s confidence. It is a small victory and has cost lives, but at least she was not beaten.
She was not beaten. She hugs this knowledge to her breast.
She has not long to enjoy her triumph.
In June, unfamiliar ships sail into the mouth of Clew Bay. Granuaile goes out in her curragh to demand they pay the traditional fee for entering her waters. She does not realise that another brother of Richard Bingham captains the vessels. He has come to Mayo in search of plunder. When he sees the tall, swarthy woman who dresses like a man and challenges him in a hoarse voice, John Bingham knows exactly who she is.
At first he appears willing to negotiate with her. But it is a trick. As soon as he has Granuaile on his flagship, John Bingham gives an order for his crew to seize her. Then he sends his men ashore to take her cattle and horses.
While Granuaile was in prison her people had depended on those herds for survival. Now she has to stand on the deck, bound hand and foot, and watch while her walking wealth is driven aboard English ships.
She can hear the cattle bawling as John Bingham gives the order to weigh anchor and set sail.
July, the Year of Our Lord 1586, Rockfleet
My dear Toby,
I have been cruelly tricked. John Bingham stole my livestock and took me to Galway, where he turned me over to his brother. The governor refused to hear my complaints about being robbed of my property. I was treated as a common criminal and thrown into a cell.
Being imprisoned again was more than I could bear. I confess to you, my son, that I could feel madness run toward me with the scampering rats.
I could hear hammering in the courtyard. ‘They are building a gallows especially for you,’ my gaolers told me.
Then a miracle occurred. I had risked myself to save The Devil’s Hook at Lough Mask. So he surrendered himself to Richard Bingham in return for my freedom. He will stand hostage to ensure my good conduct.
That is what it means to be part of a clan, Toby. We are tied with bonds stouter than rope. The man who married my daughter is my son as surely as if I had given birth to him. How can anyone break us!
Even Richard Bingham was impressed by the gesture. He took my son-in-law into custody for a twelvemonth. Before he would let me go, however, the governor demanded that I give up my seafaring enterprises. Yet he kept my herds. He said I owed them to the queen to pay for my past crimes.
Without cattle I have no way to support myself and my people, but the sea.
I amnot held by chains and bars, yet Bingham has me in a prison just the same. He cannot hold me, though. I will find a way to be free.
Always,
Granuaile
Chapter Twenty–Seven
Feeding the enemy
Richard Bingham is not through with the Bourkes. Once he has The Devil’s Hook in Galway Gaol, he sets out to destroy the remaining resistance. Edmund Bourke is ninety years of age and still defiant. But without The Devil’s Hook to protect him, he is captured. At the end of July the governor hangs the old man.
Then Richard Bingham appoints his brother John as his lieutenant in Iar Connacht. With five hundred men, John Bingham marches to Ballinahinch Castle. When he arrives Bingham demands hospitality of Owen O’Flaherty.
O’Flaherty has no choice but to feed his enemy.
The New English have overthrown Gaelic law, yet still it binds the oldest son of Granuaile.
Granuaile had thought being in prison was the worst thing that could happen to her. It is not.
John Bingham and his men eat her son’s bread and salt in Ballinahinch Castle, then seize Owen. They also take his family and servan
ts captive. With none to hinder them, they steal his cattle and horses and all his personal property. They even take the reliquary from the family chapel.
The English hang Owen’s men without any pretence of giving them a trial first. They even hang a helpless old fellow who had the misfortune to be a guest in the castle when Bingham arrived. The womenfolk are herded together into one of the outbuildings and left alone in the dark.
Owen is imprisoned in a bedchamber with a heavy bar across the door. A guard is stationed outside. John Bingham is careful to say, in front of witnesses, that he means Owen O’Flaherty to be kept safe from harm.
Sometime during the night voices call from outside the castle, warning that an attack is underway. The guard at Owen’s chamber leaves his post to see what is happening. It proves to be a false alarm. When he returns the door is still barred, or so he claims. But when it is opened in the morning, Owen O’Flaherty lies dead within the room. Blood is still seeping from at least twelve wounds.
John Bingham claims to know nothing about the murder. He turns the women loose to mourn, packs up his stolen booty, and rides away laughing.
Granuaile had thought she knew every sort of pain, but this is a new one. Owen. First born, first lost.
The murder of her son is bad enough. Almost worse is the feeling that she failed him. When he was growing up she spent most of her time at sea. She had thought to provide her children with a secure future by making their clan prosperous, but that was a false hope. Security, she knows now, is an illusion.
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