t of
Munster was lost in wonder at the detestation with which the English
name was everywhere regarded. Clanrickard was sent to Dublin, and the
deputy wished to hang him, but he dared not execute an earl without
consulting his mistress, and Elizabeth's leniency in Ireland, as well
as England, was alive and active towards the great, although it was
dead towards the poor. She could hear without emotion of the massacres
at Rathlin or Slievh Broughty; but the blood of the nobles, who had
betrayed their wretched followers into the rebellion for which they
suffered, was for ever precious in her sight. She forbade Sidney to
touch him.'[1]

[Footnote 1: Vol. xi, p.197.]

Next came the great Desmond Rebellion, by which Munster was desolated.
The Pope had encouraged an expedition against the heretics in Ireland,
and some Spanish forces joined in the enterprise. It was organised by
an English ecclesiastic, named Sanders, and an exiled Geraldine,
named Fitzmaurice of Kerry, both able and energetic men. The Spaniards
landed at Dingle in 1579. In a few days all Kerry and Limerick were
up, and the woods between Mallow and the Shannon 'were swarming
with howling kerne.' 'The rebellion,' wrote Waterhouse, 'is the most
perilous that ever began in Ireland. Nothing is to be looked for but a
general revolt.' Malby took the command against them, joined by one of
the Burkes, Theobald, who when he saw Fitzmaurice struck by a ball
and staggering in his saddle, rode at him and cut him down. The Papal
standard was unfolded in this battle. Malby then burnt the Desmonds'
country, killing all the human beings he met, up to the walls of
Askeaton. When opportunity offered, Desmond retaliated by sacking and
burning Youghal. For two days the Geraldines revelled in plunder; they
violated the women and murdered all who could not escape. At length
Elizabeth was roused to the greatness of the danger, her parsimony
was overcome. A larger force was drawn into Ireland than had ever
been assembled there for a century. Ormond, the hereditary enemy of
Desmond, was appointed commander-in-chief; and Burghley, writing to
him in the name of the queen, concluded thus: 'So now I will merely
say, Butler aboo, against all that cry in the new language--Papa aboo,
and God send your hearts' desire to banish and vanquish those cankered
Desmonds!' The war now raged, and, as usual, the innocent people, the
cultivators of the soil, were the first victims. 'We passed through