Imperiously perched on a rocky outcrop in the middle of the River Lee, Carrigadrohid Castle is one of the most spectacular tower houses in Ireland. It may not be the largest or best preserved, but it radiates a medieval air even after five centuries of decay.
Carrigadrohid Castle
Tower houses were popular with Gaelic lords, which is ironic considering they initially sprang up around the Pale as a means of protecting Dublin from the very same people. Fortified dwellings had been around since the Celts arrived a thousand years earlier, but these modest and relatively inexpensive buildings served multiple purposes: primarily as fortified homes, but also as a means to control trade and the passage of people. The latter secured revenue streams and underlined the power and legitimacy of local families. In this respect Carrigadrohid was a fine accomplishment indeed. It was built by the powerful McCarthy family sometime around 1450, and as overlords of the entire south-west it’s perhaps not surprising they chose this defensible position in the River Lee. Two hundred years later it was garrisoned with Confederate forces and about to enter the most notorious period of its history.
“Upon all of us there still lies the ‘curse of Cromwell’ ”
Ireland is littered with tragedy, perhaps never greater than a lost battle on Christmas Eve 1601. The Battle of Kinsale was the culmination of the Nine Years War and it marked the end of Gaelic Ireland and the beginning of a new era of conquest. The 17th Century would be marked by a new era of slaughter, the dispossession of land and continued plantation of a foreign culture and religion. In 1649, less than fifty years after the events at Kinsale, a man would step ashore at Dublin and go on to cement his place in Irish psyche as no less than Lucifer himself. Even Winston Churchill wrote “Upon all of us there still lies the ‘curse of Cromwell’”. But Cromwell is the poster boy for atrocity in Ireland: his real legacy lies in the persecution of Catholic Ireland through dispossession and plantation, and that was to have far greater consequences than his infamy at Drogheda. In the eight years before Cromwell arrived, slaughter had become a common theme in the Confederate War. Just two years previously, Murrough O'Brien, Baron Inchiquin, sacked Cashel and put to sword 600 of the garrison and almost 400 civilians. Perhaps this level of brutality was to be expected from Cromwell, but he made certain his tactics, and those of his lieutenants, were of such severity as to strike terror into the hearts of anyone who opposed him.
Confederate Ireland was a loosely held force of Catholics and Royalists, neither trusting the other but for now united under threat from a mutual enemy. Owen Roe O’Neill’s great success at Benburb in 1646 was followed by crushing defeats of the Confederate Leinster and Munster armies at Dungan’s Hill and Knocknanauss respectively. The Confederacy was still alive, barely, but after the regicide of Charles 1 in 1649, Cromwell was about to strike.
Oliver Cromwell came to Ireland for three reasons: to supress the Royalist cause, to destroy what was left of Confederate Ireland and to seek revenge for the massacre of English and Scottish settlers in 1641 and 1642 (he mistakenly believed those responsible were now in Drogheda). But Cromwell was not just on a military mission, his was a divine crusade motivated by a pathological hatred of Catholicism. Every success reinforced his belief that God was pleased with his efforts. He crushed Drogheda and Wexford and went on to besiege Waterford, Kilkenny and Clonmel. And it was at Clonmel that he faced his sternest test, thanks largely to the determined resistance of Hugh Dubh O’Neill. But Cromwell was needed back in England and time was of the essence, so when news arrived that a Confederate relief force of 1400 men was on route from Kerry, he ordered Roger Boyle to intercept.
Roger Boyle, Lord Broghill, 1st Earl of Orrery, was a soldier and politician well known for his hostility towards Catholics. His father was the Earl of Cork, and one of his brothers, Robert Boyle, is credited as a founder of modern chemistry and famous today for Boyles Law. Along with a number of other Anglo-Irish aristocrats, Broghill wavered between Parliamentarian and Royalist causes (though in 1649 he was a friend and enthusiastic supporter of Cromwell). Following successes in Kilkenny and Cork, he marched his army towards Macroom with the intention of intercepting the Confederate relief force under the command of Colonel Roche. Alongside him rode Major Nelson, a successful cavalry officer and victor at the Battle of Arklow.
Boetius MacEgan was born in North Cork sometime after the Battle of Kinsale and probably around the time of the Flight of the Earls in 1607. He was educated in Spain and later joined the Franciscan order. By 1630 he had returned to Ireland where, over the next fifteen years, he was promoted to various positions of importance that culminated in the bishopric of Ross in 1648. As an educated cleric he would have been acutely aware of how Gaelic Christianity created the fabric and architecture of a culture that propelled Ireland into a unique intellectual powerhouse. Indeed, as far back as the 6th Century the monastic School of Ross, now his own Diocese of Ross, was regarded as one of the great universities in Europe. The church and Gaelic Ireland had survived much since then: internecine battles, the Vikings, the Normans, the Reformation and the more recent Tudor Plantation. The plantation caused such slaughter and starvation (30,000 killed in a ‘scorched earth policy’) as to prompt Elizabeth 1 to remark of her generals “I find that I sent wolves not shepherds to govern Ireland, for they have left me nothing but ashes and carcasses to reign over”. Boetius MacEgan had witnessed many seismic events in his lifetime, including the Plantation of Ulster and subsequent arrival of Undertakers (new landowners who ‘undertook’ to populate their land with English and Scottish settlers). He lived at a time of outrages such as the execution in 1612 of Cornelius O’Devony, Catholic bishop of Down and Connor, who was hung, drawn and quartered on fabricated charges of treason. O’Devony was almost eighty years of age. Now, in the fragile Confederation of Kilkenny, a thin thread of hope remained for Gaelic Ireland and MacEgan wholeheartedly threw himself into its support. By the time he was appointed Bishop of Ross, he was rallying troops and acting as army chaplain (he was with O’Neill at Benburb). Ultimately, in 1650, he found himself in Kerry with Colonel David Roche encouraging a relief force to come to the aid of the besieged Confederates at Clonmel.
David Roche and Bishop MacEgan departed Kerry in May 1650 with a force of 1400 men. Lord Broghill commanded similar numbers of infantry, but with the addition of 500 cavalrymen his army was clearly superior. At some stage Roche, realising his disadvantage, turned back for the mountains of Kerry where he might give himself an even chance. But there was no escaping Broghill and his cavalry and they finally met at Macroom on 10th May. The battle became an inevitable rout with Roche’s army fleeing in disarray. Various sources claim 600 killed and 20 taken prisoner. Whatever the number, Boetius MacEgan was one of those prisoners.
Original bridge was of wooden construction and most likely a footbridge
“Rather than suffer a Gaelic surrender, Bishop MacEgan implored his fellow Confederates to stand fast”
Broghill now turned his attention to the remaining Confederate force at Carrigadrohid. The day after the battle he dispatched Major Nelson and a detachment of soldiers. They took Bishop MacEgan with them. Sources are somewhat sketchy as to the precise circumstances, but all agree that the bishop was to be used as a bargaining chip, willingly or unwillingly, in the negotiation to surrender the castle. MacEgan was well known for his ability to rally troops and he might equally be influential in convincing the garrison to surrender. Either way he was offered his life if he went along. It’s tempting to imagine what he was thinking as they made their way along the banks of the River Lee. The battle was over, the relief force destroyed and Clonmel certain to fall into Cromwell’s hands. The small Confederate force at Carrigadrohid could have no major impact on the war. The sensible course of action was to request a surrender and trust Major Nelson not to put the garrison to the sword. Whatever his thoughts, Bishop MacEgan was resolute on a course of action that would capture all the drama of a Shakespearian play.
Exactly who was to petition the garrison to surrender is unclear, though there was no doubt about what would happen to the bishop should they fail to comply. MacEgan, in a supreme act of defiance, implored his fellow confederates to stand fast. No one knows for sure if there was any further negotiation, but Nelson ordered him hung from a nearby tree. Without rope or any other means, they cut the reins from the bishop’s own horse and hung him in full view of the garrison.
Ultimately the garrison surrendered, whether in light of their lost cause or threat from heavy cannon. Their lives were spared. The bishop’s remains were later removed by his followers and taken to the cemetery at nearby Aghinagh. Of course Cromwell’s expedition was successful and his plantation went ahead. Roman Catholicism was banned and Catholic priests forced to leave Ireland or face execution. Under the Act for the Settlement Catholic-owned land was confiscated and awarded to settlers, Parliament's creditors, and up to twelve-thousand soldiers of Cromwell’s New Model Army. These settlers took the lush fertile lands of the midlands and east, while others returned to England and sold their land to speculators. With up to 41% of the population dead, most of the surviving Irish were pushed west of the Shannon onto rock-infested land no one else wanted. Those that remained became subservient to a new landowning class.
An interesting anecdote relates to an English traveller some twenty years later. He wrote of visiting many of Cromwell’s former soldiers and was shocked to note that not only had they adopted Irish custom and married Irish women, but their offspring could not speak a word of English. One can only imagine how much this would have pleased Bishop MacEgan.
© David O’Neill 2020
Memorial at Aghinagh Cemetery
