In search of a savage chieftain: September 1588

De Cuellar left Grange and coast behind and began to make his way towards Ben Bulben and the mountains around which he would travel in order to make his way to Breifne. In the daylight which remained he may have traveled a couple of miles, no more, given the state of his injuries. However, with the prospect of a safe haven and welcome shelter behind those mountains Francisco’s spirits had risen. He now had hope.

He wasn’t the only survivor to get away from Streedagh. Other groups of Spaniards had escaped from the area before him. The survivors who had managed to avoid the English patrols around Grange were faced with two choices once they made it to open country. They could turn north and follow the coast up to Ballyshannon where they would have to cross the river Erne to get into Ulster and, perhaps, head for the north coast to try and make their escape into Scotland with the help of sympathetic chieftains along the Antrim coastline. Or they could move south around Ben Bulben and then head inland through the valleys which led through the mountains to O’Rourke’s strongholds in Breifne. Of the three hundred or so who survived the shipwrecks, between eighty and one hundred were caught and executed by English soldiers. The rest, around two hundred men, fled in small groups or alone across country, making the choice to go either north or south and prayed to God they had made the right choice. Some, like De Cuellar, were given directions or assistance from sympathetic locals. Others weren’t so lucky. One group of Spaniards found themselves on a mountain road heading north beneath the cliffs of the Dartry mountains. Under the shadow of Benwiskin mountain in a small abbey at Keelogues, five miles north of Grange, local tradition tells of their grisly fate. English soldiers, as at Staad abbey, rounded up the fugitives and hanged them within the church before setting fire to it. Other groups following the northern route found refuge with Tadhg MacClany in Dartry. Others made it into Ulster. Pedro Blanco, who had sailed on the Juliana, found refuge with Hugh O’Neill and spent twenty years serving him as his bodyguard. Another group of eight Spaniards were still in Ulster in 1596. Approximately one hundred survivors made the journey De Cuellar was now taking and sought refuge in Breifne.

That night Francisco had travelled a few miles when he arrived at a small settlement consisting of a cluster of huts. He found out that one person could speak Latin and so was able to converse in this language. The ‘Latin scholar’s’ father and brothers were away at this time at Streedagh searching for anything they could salvage from the beach. Francisco was brought in to the hut and given shelter for the night. He and the ‘Latin scholar’ chatted while his wounds were dressed with De Cuellar explaining what had happened to him since he came to the Irish coast. Afterwards, he was given supper and a place to sleep on a bed of straw. Late that night the scholar’s father and brothers returned to the hut from the beach. They didn’t seem to mind presence of the Spaniard in their midst and proceeded to show to De Cuellar the loot they had picked up.

The next morning De Cuellar was provided with a horse and a lad to guide him across a mile of bog. Before they were gone very far they were forced to run for cover as a large group of one hundred and fifty horsemen approached traveling in the direction of Streedagh. The route De Cuellar was on was dangerous. During the late sixteenth century this part of the northwest was considered a dangerous place to travel with large bands of armed frequently passing through the region moving between Connacht and Ulster. Due to the upheaval caused by the arrival of the Armada ships large bodies of armed men were now roaming about the district almost at will. Traveling south if, indeed he was, the route was talking him in the direction of Sligo town ten miles away. The garrison there was now very active and reacting to any rumour concerning the presence of Spaniards. It was a risky path to follow if there were English soldiers on the move.

After watching the horsemen pass by the two took to the path again only to find themselves confronted by a mob. Very quickly they were surrounded ‘by more than forty savages on foot who wanted to cut me to ribbons because they were all out and out Lutherans. But they didn’t do it because the lad that was with me told them his master had captured me and taken me prisoner and was sending me off on that horse to have my wounds treated’. This ruse persuaded most of the mob to leave De Cuellar alone but as they passed by Francisco was attacked by two of the mob with clubs. He was clubbed half a dozen times on the back and arms, dragged off the horse, then stripped of his clothes and left naked on the ground. ‘The savage’s lad wanted to go back to his hut with his horse, and wept to see the state I was in, stripped to the skin and so cold and ill-treated, I earnestly begged God to take me to any place where I could die confessed and in His grace’. Having taken what they could the mob moved on. Battered, cold and wet Francisco was left alone where he lay. The terrified young lad went back to his family. Wrapping himself in a piece of old matting and some dry ferns to keep out the cold De Cuellar got back on his feet and did the only thing he could do, keep moving in the direction of the lands of the chieftain he’d been told about.

Moving south past the distinctive sharp profile of the Ben Bulben plateau the traveler crosses the plain of Maugherow, following a line of cliffs that end in Kings mountain. Beyond Kings mountain the plateau opens out into the broad, long valley of Glencar which runs inland for ten miles in an easterly direction from Drumcliff. The south side of the valley is lined by Cruckauns and Keelogyboy mountains beyond which stood the main strongholds of the ‘savage chieftain’ O’Rourke at Dromahaire and Newtown. In the middle of the valley lies Glencar lake. During the sixteenth century the eastern shore of this body of water marked the boundary of the territory of Carbury while the western shore marked the limits of Breifne. This was where De Cuellar had been told he would be given refuge.

Despite his injuries and without further mishap De Cuellar crossed the plain south to Kings Mountain and the mouth of Glencar valley and then followed the bank of Drumcliff river up to Glencar lake. ‘Bit by bit, I journeyed on towards the area that had been pointed out to me, seeking that chieftains lands where those Spaniards had found refuge and, after reaching the mountain range that I had been given as a marker, I came upon a lake around which there were about thirty huts all abandoned and uninhabited......’ . It was evening time and darkness was falling. Looking into one of the huts De Cuellar found it full of sheaves of oats. Happy that he could keep warm amongst the sheaves he entered to make himself comfortable for the night. But before he could do anything he was startled by the appearance of three men who emerged from the gloom of the hut, silent and staring at him. ‘When I entered, they didn’t address me, nor did I them, because I couldn’t make them out and the hut was pretty dark. So, finding myself in such great confusion, I cried, ‘Oh Mother of God, be with me now, and deliver me from all evil!’ On hearing me speak Spanish and invoke the Mother of God, they too exclaimed, ‘May the great Lady be with us!’ I was reassured then and went up to them, asking them if they were Spanish. ‘We are indeed, for our sins, for they stripped eleven of us on the strand and, naked as we are, we’ve come here looking for Christian territory, and on the way a band of enemies found us and slaughtered eight of us! And the three of us you see here fled into such a dense forest that they couldn’t find us, and this evening, with God’s help, we came upon these huts here, where we have stopped to rest even though they are empty and there is nothing to eat’.

Greatly relieved, the four Spaniards began to relax. They chatted. Two of the Spaniards were soldiers, the third was an ensign. They were greatly surprised when De Cuellar told them who he was as the three were sure he had drowned. Francisco then let them know of the directions he’d been given to the lands where they could find refuge. ‘….not far from where we are is friendly Christian territory, for I have heard tell of a village about three or four leagues from here, which belongs to the chieftain O’Rourke where many of our shipwrecked Spaniards have found shelter. And though I have come here badly battered and wounded, we’ll make for there tomorrow.’ After chewing on some ‘blackberries and cresses’ for their supper the four agreed to get up early the next morning and then buried themselves in the sheaves of oats to sleep.

At the eastern end of Glencar lake, the O’Rourke end, there are the remains of a crannog, a lake dwelling. It was known to the annals as ‘Inish na Lainne’(Sword Island) Over the centuries it was used as a stronghold by different branches of the O’Rourke clan. It was still in use forty years before the Armada came to Irish shores. In 1541 rival septs of the clan battled over possession of the settlement. Describing one such encounter the annals report that ‘Donnell and Ferganaim (O’Rourke) made an attack on the crannog, and privately set fire to the town’. However the occupants were alerted and extinguished the fire, pursued the two assailants and killed them. The ‘town’ referred to in the annals was most likely the crannog itself but there may well have been a small settlement by the lakeshore. Small villages accompanied most of the strongholds of the chieftains in which resided the Lord’s immediate retainers and those staff who were required for the day-to-day maintenance and upkeep of the household. This may have been the deserted settlement which De Cuellar and the three Spaniards stumbled upon.

De Cuellar didn’t sleep very much that night. The great pains in his legs kept him awake. He was still lying awake at dawn when the sound of voices and people talking outside the hut jolted his senses. ‘Whereupon a savage appears at the door with a halberd in his hand; he started looking at his oats and muttering to himself, and I held my breath, as did my companions who had woken up, and from the oat stalks kept a close eye on the savage and what he was up to. He left, thank God, and went off with many others who had come with him to reap and work, but so close to the huts that we couldn’t leave without being spotted.’ The four were now trapped in the hut while the group of farmers worked in the fields nearby. The Spaniards didn’t show themselves for fear of what might happen to them if these farmers were hostile. De Cuellar thought they were ‘savage heretics’ from Grange where so many of the survivors had been put to death. He was quite likely mistaken but, given the recent experiences of all four survivors it is understandable that, by now, the appearance of groups of any kind put the men in fear of their lives. They remained hidden in the hut all that day, not moving while the farmers worked outside. Debating what they should do the four resolved to wait until the farmers had finished up and left and then slip away from there during the night and hopefully ‘put behind us the grave danger through which we had passed.’.

That night, after the farmers had left, they made their escape. They set out not having eaten or drunk anything in the previous twenty four hours while they lay hidden, buried under sheaves of oats. Having subsisted on the merest scraps for almost a week since the shipwreck the men were starving and dehydrated. Francisco needed assistance to walk and so the four left the shores of the lake in a wretched condition, wrapped in straw to keep out the autumn chill. Fortunately they were now on the borders of the territory of Brian O’Rourke. A few miles slog up the valley ‘we began to find huts inhabited by better people who, though all savages, were Christian and charitable. One of them, seeing me so ill-treated and wounded, took me to his hut and, with his wife and children, dressed my wounds, and wouldn’t let me leave until he thought I was well enough to reach the village I was heading for’. Following tracks that led up into the valley from the lake De Cuellar and his companions were passing, under the light of a rising moon, into the heartlands of the kingdom of Breifne. Just over five miles away at the top of Glencar valley sat the O’Rourke tower house of Carha. It was one of the principal strongholds of Breifne but the chieftain, Brian, didn’t reside here, his main residence was at Dromahaire, eight miles to the south. Eoghan MacFelim O’Rourke, chief of Carha and head of a lesser branch of the clan, occupied this castle. It is quite possible that that the four Spaniards arrived here in a bedraggled state after their night trek from Glencar lake. No doubt, other survivors also followed those well-worn paths through the valley to arrive here seeking shelter. If so, then it was the O’Rourke’s of Carha who were the family that sheltered De Cuellar and tended his wounds until he was fit enough to make his way to Dromahaire. In the last few days of September after about a week on the run Francisco could rest his starved, battered body. He had reached the lands of the savage chieftain. For the moment he was safe.