Rory O'More - Rebel

Rory O'More

Rory O'More, also known as Rory Oge O'More (Irish: Ruairí Óg Ó Mórdha) (died 1578), was an Irish rebel.

Early life

He was the second son of Ruairí Ó Mórdha, captain of Leix, and Margaret, daughter of Thomas Butler, and granddaughter of Pierce or Piers Butler, eighth earl of Ormonde. Sir Henry Sidney once called him ‘an obscure and base varlet,’ but his family was one of the most important of the minor Irish septs, and also one of the most turbulent.

Family background

Ruairí Ó Mórdha (fl. 1554), the father, was the son of Connell Ó Mórdha (d. 1537), and early acquired the character of a violent and successful chieftain. On the death of Connell a fierce dispute broke out between the three sons — Lysaght, Kedagh, and Ruairí — and their uncle Peter the Tanist. Peter was for the time a friend of the Butlers. Consequently the deputy, Lord Leonard Grey, supported the sons; and, although Peter was acknowledged chief, Grey got hold of him by a ruse, and led him about in chains for some time, Kedagh then seems to have secured the chieftainship, Lysaght having been killed; but he died early in 1542, and Ruairí, the third brother, succeeded.

He, after a period of turmoil, agreed on 13 May 1542 to lead a quieter life, and made a general submission, being probably influenced by the fact that Kedagh had left a son of the same name, who long afterwards, in 1565, petitioned the privy council to be restored to his father's inheritance. Like other Irish chiefs of the time, Ó Mórdha was only a nominal friend to the English. In a grant afterwards made to his eldest son his services to King Edward VI are spoken of; but they must have been of doubtful value, as an order of 15 March 1550-1 forbade any of the name of Ó Mórdha to hold land in Leix.

At some uncertain time between 1550 and 1557 Ruairí Ó Mórdha was killed, and was succeeded by a certain Connell Ó Mórdha, who may be the Connell Oge O'More mentioned in 1556 in the settlement of Leix . He was put to death in 1557

In 1556 Queen Mary approved an Act "..whereby the King and Queen's Majesties, and the Heires and Successors of the Queen, be entituled to the Counties of Leix, Slewmarge, Irry, Glinmaliry, and Offaily, and for making the same Countries Shire Grounds."  This shired the new counties of Queen's County (now County Laois) and King's County (now County Offaly), thereby dispossessing the O'More clan and starting the Plantations of Ireland.

Ruairí Óge and Callagh

Rory left two sons, Callagh and Ruairí Óge. Callagh, who was brought up in England, was called by the English ‘The Calough,’ and, as he describes himself as of Gray's Inn in 1568, he may be assumed to be the John Callow who entered there in 1567 (Foster, Reg. of Gray's Inn, p. 39). In 1571 Ormonde petitioned for the Calough's return, and soon afterwards he came back to Ireland, where in 1582 he was thought a sufficiently strong adherent to the English to receive a grant of land in Leix.

A dangerous rebel

Ruairí Óge Ó Mórdha, the second son, was constantly engaged in rebellion. He received a pardon on 17 February 1565-6, but in 1571 he was noted as dangerous, and in 1572 he was fighting Ormonde and the queen at the same time, being favoured by the weakness of the forces at the command of Francis Cosby, the seneschal of Queen's County, and the temporary absence of Ormonde in England. In this little rebellion the Butlers and the Fitzgeralds were united against him; but when, in November 1572, Desmond escaped from Dublin, it was Ruairí Óge Ó Mórdha who escorted him through Kildare and protected him in Queen's County He was mixed up in Kildare's plots in 1574, and taken prisoner in November. But he was soon free, and Sidney, when on his tour in 1575, wrote of him: ‘Rory Oge O'More hath the possession and settling-place in the Queen's County, whether the tenants will or no, as he occupieth what he listeth and wasteth what he will.’

Submission and war

However, Ó Mórdha was afraid of the deputy, and when Sydney came into his territory, he went to meet him in the cathedral of Kilkenny (December 1575), and ‘submitted himself, repenting (as he said) his former faults, and promising hereafter to live in better sort (for worse than he hath been he cannot be).’ Hence we find a new pardon granted to him on 4 June 1576 (ib. p. 179).

But in the next year he hoped for help from Spain, and, pushed on by his freind, John Burke, he made a desperate attack on the Pale. He allied himself with some of the O'Connors, and gathered an army. On 18 March 1576-7 the seneschal of Queen's County was commanded to attack Ruairí Óge and the O'Connors with fire and sword. There was good reason for active hostilities, as on the 3rd the insurgents had burned Naas with every kind of horror. Sidney wrote to the council the same month: ‘Rory Oge O'More and Cormock M'Cormock O'Conor have burnt the Naas. They ranne thorough the towne lyke hagges and furies of hell, with flakes of fier fastned on poles ends’

Later in the year Ó Mórdha captured Harrington and Cosby. They were rescued by a ruse. Ó Mórdha's wife and all but Ó Mórdha himself and one of those who were with him were killed. Infuriated at being caught, Ó Mórdha fell upon Harrington, ‘hacked and hewed’ him so that Sidney saw his brains moving when his wounds were being dressed, then rushing through a soldier's legs, he escaped practically naked.

Death

He soon afterwards burned Carlow; but in an attempt to entrap Barnaby Fitzpatrick, baron of Upper Ossory, into his hands, he was killed by the Fitzpatricks in June 1578, and his head set up on Dublin Castle.

From Wikipedia.
Song: Rory O'More

Young Rory O'More courted Kathleen Bawn
He was bold as a hawk and she soft as the dawn
He wished in his heart pretty Kathleen to please
And he thought the best way to do that was to tease.

"Now Rory be easy," sweet Kathleen would cry
Reproof on her lip but a smile in her eye
"With your tricks I don't know in troth what I'm about
Faith you've teased till I've put on my cloak inside out.

"O jewel," says Rory, " that same is the way
You've thrated my heart for this many a day
And tis plaz'd that I am and why not to be sure
For tis all for good luck." says bold Rory O'More.

"Indeed then," says Kathleen," don't think of the like
For I half gave a promise to soothering Mike
The ground that I walk on he loves I'll be bound."
"Faith," says Rory," I'd rather love you than the ground."

"Now Rory I'II cry if you don't let me go
Sure I drcam every night that I'm hating you so"
"Oh," says Rory," that same I'm delighted to hear
For dhrames always go by contrairies my dear."

"O jewel keep dhraming that same till you die
And bright morning will give dirty night the black lie
And tis plaz'd that I am and why not to be sure
Since tis all for good luck," says bold Rory O'More.

"Arrah Kathleen my darling you've teased me enough
Sure I've thrashed for your sake Dinny Grimes and Jim Duff
And I've made myself drinking your health quite a baste
So I think after that I may talk to the priest."

Then Rory the rogue stole his arm round her neck
So soft and so white without freckle or speck
And he looked in her eyes that were beaming with light
And he kissed her sweet lips don't you think he was right.

"Now Rory leave off sir you'll hug me no more
That's eight times today and you've kissed me before"
"Then here goes another," says he, " to make sure
For there's luck in odd numbers." says Rory O'More.

From the Grieg-Duncan Folk Song Collection

Isabel MacDuff - Kingmaker

By Laura Vosika, Author of The Bluebells of Scotland


Isabel MacDuff did not much care for her lodgings at Berwick Castle.

Isabel MacDuff

Isabel MacDuff is a woman who deserves more attention than she has gotten, at least on this side of the Atlantic. Although a minor player in history, her courage, strength, and patriotism put her on a level withthe greats. Her story officially begins withher birthin 1286, within months of the fateful death of Alexander III, which threw Scotland into such turmoil. Thus, she would have grown up in the days of upheaval, of Edward Longshanks, Hammer of the Scots' invasions of Scotland, through the days of the Guardianship-- her father, Duncan MacDuff, was one of the Guardians-- and John Baliol's failed kingship, through the events of William Wallace's uprisings against England.

In an explanation of the events to follow, it is important to know that the MacDuff clan held a hereditary right to crown the Kings of Scotland. In a more direct explanation of Isabel's Scottish patriotism, her mother, widowed when Isabel was about three, re-married one Sir Gervase Avenel, who gave his fealty to Robert the Bruce early on.

What complicated matters for Isabel, and tested her determination and courage, was the fact that her brother was growing up as a ward fo the English court, perhaps even as a companion of the young Edward II. Moreover, in 1306, aged 19 or 20, Isabel married John Comyn, Earl of Buchan. John Comyn was a supporter of John Baliol and enemy of Robert Bruce. It was John's cousin, also John Comyn, but Earl of Badenoch, whom Robert Bruce stabbed to death before the altar of Greyfriars Church in Dumfries on February 10, 1306, cementing the Comyn family's hatred of Bruce.

This incident, perhaps, changed Isabel's life.

Bruce, knowing he would be excommunicated for killing a man on holy ground, and knowing an excommunicated man could not be crowned king, did the only sensible thing in a time without e-mail: he dashed for Scone, the traditional crowning place of the Scottish kings, in a race against the messengers flying to the Pope with news of the Greyfriarsmurder and the messengers speeding back equally hastily with news of his excommunication.

Isabel, however she heard the news of Bruce's flight to Scone for coronation, determined that, as her young brother was in England, unable to claim the MacDuff family's right, she would do so herself, against the obvious wishes of her new husband. One story says she stole her husband's horses. Other sources say that, as Lord John was in England at the time, there was no need for deception, and she merely rode off. The first story is more interesting, though perhaps less accurate.

Isabel Crowns Bruce

Despite her best efforts, Isabel actually arrived in Scone the day after Bruce's coronation. However, her efforts meant a great deal to him. He'd already been deprived, by Edward I, of the traditional coronation stone, the Stone of Scone (which contrary to appearances does not rhyme: it's pronounced scoon). Without the traditional elements of coronation, the Stone and a MacDuff to crown him, he worried that his kingship would be viewed as less than completely legitimate. Therefore, the coronation ceremony was re-enacted on the 25th of March, 1306, when Isabel MacDuff, Countess of Buchan, set the crown on the head of Robert the Bruce, making him (for the second time in two days) King of Scotland.

(Just to be as accurate as possible, other sources put the re-crowning on March 27, 1306.)

Having no future withher husband after this act, Isabel stayed on with the Bruce's. However, Scotland was a country under attack. Bruce was a man very badly wanted by Edward, and not well liked by the vast reaches of Clan Comyn and their allies, either. In July 1306, he sent his wife, sisters, daughter, and Isabel to Kildrummy Castle for safety, under the protection of his brother Nigel (or Neil as he was also known).

Unfortunately, Bruce had many enemies. Kildrummy was attacked in September of 1306. Though the women escaped the castle, they were captured by William, Earl of Ross, while fleeing north, and taken to Edward Longshanksin England. Bruce's wife, Elizabeth, was treated perhaps the most kindly, the fortunate result of her also being the daughter of Edward's ally, the Earl of Ulster. But Bruce's ten year old daughter, Marjory, was from his first marriage, and therefore no concern to Edward; she was incarcerated at Watton Priory. His sister, Christina, was locked in a nunnery for years. Nigel met the most unpleasant face, being publicly tortured and executed in most barbaric fashion by Edward I.

Remains of Berwick CastleBruce's other sister, Mary, received more of Edward's wrath. She and Isabel were both ordered by Edward I to live in cages hung on castle walls. Mary spent several years suspended on the outer walls of Roxburgh, and Isabel, for the crime of placing the crown on Bruce's head and defying her husband, was likewise suspended on the walls of Berwick castle.

This site on Edward II gives the clearest description I have yet found on the conditions Isabel suffered. It describes the cage as made of lattice wood and iron hinges. It was open for all to see, allowing her only the privacy of a privy. She was exposed to the elements and the ridicule of the English people, though allowed two women to bring her food and drink. This page gives the date of her release as June 1310-- nearly four years in a cage.

Having been quite cold while I was in Scotland in late May and early June, I can hardly imagine what it must have been like to live exposed to the elements, even through winter, for four years. She was reputedly held in continued captivity even after her release from the cage. Sources differ as to whether she died in captivity or survived it.

I am pleased to have found that there is a novel written about Isabel MacDuff. Barbara Erskine's Kingdom of Shadows focuses on the life of this fascinating woman. I had recently been told about Barbara Erskine's novels set in medieval Scotland, and planned to find some and start reading, anyway. Now, I have double reason to do so.


Blue Bells of Scotland  by Laura Vosika

Shawn Kleiner has it all: money, fame, a skyrocketing career as an international musical phenomenon, his beautiful girlfriend Amy, and all the women he wants-- until the night Amy has enough and leaves him  stranded in a Scottish castle tower.

He wakes up to find himself mistaken for Niall Campbell, medieval Highland warrior.  Soon after, he is sent shimmying down a wind-torn castle wall into a dangerous cross country trek with Niall's tempting, but knife-wielding fiancee.  They are pursued by English soldiers and a Scottish traitor who want Niall dead.
Thrown forward in time, Niall learns history’s horrifying account of his own death, and of the Scots’ slaughter at Bannockburn.  Undaunted, he navigates the roiled waters of Shawn’s life-- pregnant girlfriend, amorous fans, enemies, and gambling debts--- seeking a way to leap back across time to save his people, especially his beloved Allene.  His growing fondness for Shawn’s life brings him face to face with his own weakness and teaches him the true meaning of faith.

Blue Bells of Scotland is both a historical adventure and a tale of redemption that will be remembered long after the last page has been turned.

John "Jack" Donohoe - Bushranger

Jack Donohoe

John "Jack" Donohoe (sometimes called Donohue) was born in Dublin, Ireland, in 1804.  He became involved with the Irish rebel movement early and in 1823 was arrested and sentenced to transportation to Australia, arriving in Sydney Cove.

Donohoe was assigned to a series of masters from whom he escaped one by one.  In 1827 he finally formed a hang of bushrangers, similar to bandits or highwaymen, called the Stripper Gang, so called because they waylaid well off landowners and the like and stripped them of everything they carried, including the clothes they wore.

In 1830 Donohoe was hunted down with hiss fellow gang members, Kilroy (Kilray or Gilroy) and Smith. buy the army.  In the ensuing battle Donohoe was shot in the head and died.

Like m any another outlaw Donohoe became a hero to his countrymen.  There are at least twosongs said to be about him, Bold Jack Donohoe and The Wild Colonial Boy.

Bold Jack Donohue

Come all you gallant bushrangers who gallop o'er the plains
Refuse to live in slavery, or wear the convict chains.
Attention pay to what I say, and value if I do
For I will relate the matchless tale of bold Jack Donohue.

Come all you sons of liberty and everyone besides
I'll sing to you a story that will fill you with surprise
Concerning of a bold bushranger, Jack Donohue was his name
And he scorned to humble to the crown, bound down with iron chain.

Now Donohue was taken all for a notorious crime
And sentenced to be hanged upon thw gallow tree so high
But when they to him to Bathurst Gaol, he left them in a stew
For when they came to call the roll, they missed Jack Donohue.

Now when Donohue made his escape, to the bush he went straight way.
The squatters they were all afraid to travel by night and by day
And every day in the newspapers, they brought out something new,
Concerning that bold bushranger they called Jack Donohue.

Now one day as he was riding the mountainside alone
Not thinking that the pains of death would overtake him soon.
When all he spied the horse police well on they came up into view
And in double quick time they did advance to take Jack Donohue.

"Oh Donohue, Donohue, throw down your carbine.
Or do you intend to fight us all and will you not resign?"
"Surrender to such cowardly dogs is a thing that I never would do,
For this day I'll fight with all my might", cried Bold Jack Donohue

Now the sergeant and the corporal, their men they did divide
Some fired at him from behind and some from every side.
The sergeant and the corporal, they both fired at him, too.
And a rifle bullet pierced the heart of Bold Jack Donohue.

Now nine rounds he fired and nine men down before that fated ball
Which pierced his heart and made him smart and caused him for to fall
And as he closed his mournful eyes, he bid the world adieu,
Saying "Convicts all, pray for the soul of Bold Jack Donohue."

The Wild Colonial Boy

Come, all my hearties,
we'll roam the mountains high,
Together we will plunder,
together we will ride.
We'll scar over valleys,
and gallop for the plains,
And scorn to live in
slavery, bound down by iron chains.
It's of a wild Colonial Boy,
Jack Doolan was his name,
Of poor but honest parents,
he was born in Castlemaine.
He was his father's only son,
his mother's pride and joy,
And so dearly did his parents love
the wild Colonial Boy.
When scarcely sixteen years of age
he left his father's home,
And through Australia's sunny shores
a bushranger did roam.
He'd rob the largest squatters,
their stock he would destroy,
a terror to Australia was
the wild Colonial Boy.
In sixty-one this daring youth
commenced his wild career,
With a heart that knew no danger,
no stranger would did he fear.
He bailed up the Beechworth roll mail-coach,
and robbed Judge MacEvoy,
Who trembled and gave up his gold to
the wild Colonial Boy.
He bade the judge "Good morning",
and told him to beware,
That he'd never rob a poor man
who wafted on the square,
Three mounted troopers came in sight
Kelly, Davis and Fitzroy,
who thought that they would capture him,
the wild Colonial Boy.
"Surrender now, Jack Doolan,
you see were three to one".
Surrender in the queens name
you daring highwayman,"
Jack drew two pistols from his belt,
and waved them proud and free
"I'll fight, but not surrender,"
cried the wild Colonial Boy.
He fired at Trooper Kelly
and brought him to the ground,
And in return from Davis
received a mortal wound.
All shattered through the jaws he lay
still firing at Fitzroy,
And that's the way they captured him-
the wild Colonial Boy.

Lizzie Johnson - Texas Schoolteacher

Lizzie Johnson

Texiana – A Woman’s Place

By Celia Hayes, author of Daughter of Texas & The Adelsverein Trilogy


I have always had the sneaking feeling that circumstances peculiar to the Western frontier significantly enabled the successful American struggle for female suffrage. The strangling hand of Victorian standards for feminine conduct and propriety, which firmly insisted that “ladies were not supposed to be interested in such vulgar doings as business and politics” was just not able to reach as far or grip so firmly. There was simply no earthly way for a woman traveling in a wagon along the Platte River, pushing a hand-cart to Salt Lake City, living in a California gold-rush tent city, or a log house on the Texas frontier to achieve the same degree of sheltered helplessness thought appropriate by the standard-bearers of High Victorian culture. It was impossible to be exclusively the angel of the home and hearth, when the hearth was a campfire on the prairie and anything from a stampeding buffalo herd, a plague of locusts or a Comanche war party could wander in at any time.

Life on the frontier was too close to a struggle for bare survival at the best of times. No place there for passengers, no room for the passive and trimly corseted lady to sit with her hands folded and abide by the standards of Boston and Eaton Place. The frontier was a hard place, the work unrelenting, but I have often wondered if some women might have found this liberation from the stifling expectations of the era quite exhilarating. I have also wondered if the men of the West – who had quite enough on their plates already, in just surviving - didn’t find it a little bit of a relief, to deal with a woman who was strong and competent and could hold up her end, rather a bundle of simpering, fluttering helplessness in crinoline. Curiously, the very first American female law officer was a westerner. The first few licensed female doctors gravitated to the frontier west, where the relative rarity of medical talent made for a less picky clientele and the first state to grant women the right to vote was Wyoming… in 1869. When it came right down to it, the struggle for women to gain the right to vote did not meet the fierce resistance in America as it did in Britain. Perhaps the concept did not rattle the masculine cage in Cheyenne quite as violently as it did in Westminster, or arouse a backlash anywhere near as vicious; curious, since the American west is supposed to be the high holy of aggressive masculinity.

But someone like Lizzie Johnson could have had the life and career that she did, nowhere else. She was born in Missouri in 1840, and came to Texas with her parents six years later. Her father, Thomas Jefferson Johnson was a schoolteacher and devout Presbyterian, who brought his growing family to Texas. Eventually he set up a boarding school in Hayes County, south of Austin and some distance from San Marcos, which drew pupils from the area – and astonishingly, a fair number from other Southern states. Lizzie’s father, known as the Professor had originally intended it to be a boys school but so many girls applied that it morphed into a coeducational secondary school. The school prospered, and Lizzie (along with her brothers and sisters) taught classes – including bookkeeping. Lizzie turned out to be particularly gifted at mathematics.
This talent would have an unexpected bearing on her later career, which began to blossom in the decade following the Civil War. She taught school in a couple of small towns near Austin before opening her own primary school there in 1873; in a two story house on property she had purchased in her own name. She did more than teach school, though: complaining of boredom with the same old teaching routine and social affairs in letters to her brother, she had begun to write popular fiction under various pen names for the weekly Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper… and she also did bookkeeping. Her brother John had kept the books for the Day brothers, who had extensive ranching interests in Hays County, and were old neighbors of the Johnson family. There were seven Day brothers; inevitably they were known as the “Weeks”. John never entirely recovered from battlefield injuries incurred during his service as a soldier, and when he died, Lizzie took over in his stead. Her father had kept a small herd of cattle to supplement his income from the school, and Lizzie was now in possession of an income of her own, which she could invest in whatever she chose.
And she chose to invest in real estate, and in cattle, about which she became startlingly knowledgeable, for a maiden lady schoolteacher. By the time she opened her own school; she had registered her own brand, owned land and cattle, and was sending substantial herds north to the Kansas railheads. Her life seems astonishingly modern, the farthest thing imaginable from the repressed and constrained fictional women in contemporary novels by serious writers like Henry James and Edith Wharton. She worked at what pleased and rewarded her, and no one – not her father or other male relative had anything to say about her household, her income, and her considerable business interests. Well, her surviving brothers - all younger – might have had a lot to say, but apparently little enthusiasm for attempting any means of control over a formidable woman like Lizzie.

I think of her as the anti-Lily Bart. Another astonishingly modern touch – she married well beyond the age that a woman was expected to have committed in matrimony, and it was not for lack of serious suitors. For Lizzie was – to judge from contemporary formal daguerreotype portraits of her, in which the length of film exposure made any facial expression except the kind you could hold for some length of time out of the question – a rather attractive woman. Victorian standards of beauty differed considerably from the modern one, admittedly; they favored round-faced blondes, and Lizzie was dark-haired and looked rather like a 19th century Demi Moore. She was no frump, either, but dressed elegantly and in the latest fashion. She was courted assiduously over several years by one of the Day brothers and a number of other prosperous men, every one of whom knew her as a woman of property… and moreover, exactly how she came by it. Brains, beauty and business sense apparently had considerable allure.

At the age of 39, this frontier Kate married her Petruchio. He was a handsome and raffish widower with several children, named Hezekiah Williams. Although a retired Baptist preacher, and a moderately unsuccessful rancher, he was also a bit of a gambler and drinker. Sensibly, Lizzie married him with the equivalent of a prenuptial agreement in place. She would control her own property acquired before the marriage, as well as anything she acquired in her own name after it.

It seems that Lizzie Johnson Williams chose as well in her marriage as she did everything else, for they maintained a devoted and happily competitive relationship, both in business and in their personal life for thirty-five years. They went up the cattle trail to the northern railheads three times, Lizzie and Hezekiah each with a separate herd; it is thought that Lizzie was the only woman rancher who trailed cattle that she herself owned wholly, in the post-war cattle boom. When she died in 1924, ten years after Hezekiah, her neighbors were astonished to find out that she owned property worth a quarter of a million dollars. She had lived in a modest, not to mention miserly style since the death of her husband. She did not marry into money, or inherit through her family; every dollar of her estate she had earned herself, by teaching, writing and bookkeeping, and parlaying those earnings into land and cattle investments, using her own best judgement. A thuroughly
modern woman, a hundred years before such women were more the norm.

Celia Hayes is the author of five historical novels set on the 19th Century American frontier. Her latest, Daughter of Texas, is the story of a woman's life in early Texas. The sequel, Deep in the Heart, will be published in December, 2011.  See her Author Page on Amazon.com.