ey built an engine called a saw, having
its three sides made musket-proof with boards. It was drawn on four
wheels, each a foot high, with folding doors to open inwards and several
loopholes to shoot through, without a floor, so that ten or twelve men
who went therein might drive it forwards. These machines were set
against castle walls whilst the men within them attempted to make a
breach with crows and pickaxes.'

Infernal machines are, after all, not confined to our own times, and
this same rascally ancestor of my own appears to have had predatory
habits more likely to be appreciated by his followers than by his foes.

Dingle is now a somewhat dilapidated town, but that was not always the
case, for it is mentioned in my dear old friend Froude's _History of
England_ that the then Earl of Desmond called on the ambassador of
Charles V. at his lodgings in Dingle. The old records of the place would
be worth diligent antiquarian research, a matter even more difficult in
Ireland than elsewhere. Should all be brought to light, I fancy the part
played by my family would not grow smaller.

The Husseys spread away over the county, after having their lands
forfeited under both Elizabeth and Cromwell, which was the most
respectable thing to suffer in those times. In the reign of Queen Anne,
Colonel Maurice Hussey sold Cahirnane to the Herberts, and there is a
garden still called Hussey's Garden in the property. He built a mortuary
chapel for himself on the top of a small hill just outside the gates of
Muckross, where his own grave near that beautiful abbey can be seen to
this day.

This Colonel Maurice Hussey resided for some time in England, and
appears to have married an English lady; and it is odd that though a
Roman Catholic he was trusted by the Governments of both William and
Anne. There seems to have been something versatile about his rather
mysterious career, the key to which may be found in the surmise that
until the accession of King George he was a Jacobite at heart; which
throws some doubt on his assertion in a letter that there are very few
Tories--or outlaws--in Kerry, where the Whig rule was never enforced
with great severity. He was, however, committed to 'Trally jail' (_i.e._
Tralee) on the fear of a landing by the Pretender, whence he wrote
pleading letters, in one of which he mentions that his son-in-law,
MacCartie, has taken the oaths of abjuration; and later, when released,
he seems to have been disturb