THE buccaneers immortalised by Marryat and Stevenson are for the most part ruffians with keen wits and keener knives, who prey upon the helpless and avoid the strong. In dire straits they may show teeth to a gunboat, but it is all over in the presence of a frigate. Not so with the pirates of Leamcon, In their case the loftier the enterprise the greater the relish. So far from shrinking from the king's vessels, they dared to treat on something approaching equal terms even with the king himself. Yet, so far as the writer is aware, no one has attempted to set out with any fulness the part which these sea-rovers played, nor have we any description of their home. The historians of James I.'s reign do indeed draw from the State Papers frequent allusions to their power and their depredations. This, however, is but slender tribute to the historical role of men who at one time could muster a fleet of as many as twenty ships, fully manned and thoroughly equipped, and who in the early years of the seventeenth century held undisturbed an almost impregnable stronghold in the south-west of Ireland.

Pirates are more interested in licence and loot than in annals, and they are under no delusions as to the consequences which are prone to follow when the light of publicity falls too plentifully upon

them. The Leamoon pirates, however, have compelled others to place many of their doings on record; they were a source of the gravest anxiety to the potentates of the day, and even the stilted language of official correspondence not infrequently betrays the tremor which they caused.

The passion for the sea and plunder, which took origin in the exploits of sailors like Drake and Frobisher, became general when the gigantic Armada was seen flying before the English ships. Financed by wealthy merchants and officered by the great houses, ship after ship sailed with the Queen's commission for the Spanish main. But the spirit of adventure thus let loose soon degenerated. The Spanish main was distant, and its prizes no easy prey; why not descend upon less doughty quarry nearer home?

So long as the vigorous rule of Elizabeth lasted pirates were rare; but when the laxer times of James succeeded, adventurers of the baser sort breathed freely, and organised bands began to scourge the narrow seas. Up and down the English Channel, through the Irish Sea, and all round the coasts of Ireland, they ranged and ravaged, paying scant attention to possible danger from his Majesty's ships, and losing no opportunity of attacking all merchantmen that came their

way. Finally, so bold did they become that it was decided to seize and occupy a permanent base on land. For this purpose the peninsula of Leamoon was selected, with results which abundantly demonstrated the wisdom of the choice. There for something like a quarter of a century the pirates succeeded in setting the king's frowns at defiance, and when at last they condescended to withdraw, the step was rather the result of bargaining than of force.

The most casual glance at the map of the south of Ireland suggests ideal spots for pirate haunts. The long deep inlets, thick studded with islands, promise the nicest facilities for the game of hide-and-seek, with every prospect of the hiders including all the winners. In the extreme south-west, between Cape Clear and the Mizen Head, the sea breaks up through "Carbery's Hundred Isles," making what is suggestively termed Roaring Water Bay. If nothing more than difficulty of access and security had been the object, many a hidden creek and sheltering islet lay available in the recesses of the bay. But the pirates of James I.'s time thought less of a hidden than of a strong position, and they were at least as anxious with reference to their own facilities for running out, as they were for intricacies which would make it difficult for others to run in. Hence they decided to keep well out near the entrance to the bay, and the site finally chosen was Leamoon.

At the eastern approach to Tourmore Bay, Castle Point projects. Itself almost an island, it forms the western extremity of a peninsula some two and a half miles long by half a mile broad. The name Leamcon, or the Dog's Leap, by which the place is known, perhaps takes origin from a chasm which cuts off the Point. In this peninsula the pirates made their home. On the north-west, running inland for three-quarters of a mile, lies the harbour. A small island partially shelters its entrance. At first sight it seems to be a somewhat exposed, but in other respects a quite innocent roadstead. Appearances, however, are deceptive, for the exposure is by no means serious, and the innocence is much on a par with that of the Nuremberg Maiden. Castle Point is proteeted by a cheval-de-frise of sunken rocks, and not only is Leamcon harbour "one of the dirtiest bottoms known," but the whole water is a maze of sunken rocks.

Leamoon is further strengthened by the rugged and inaccessible cliffs, in places over one hundred feet high, which guard the southern coast of the peninsula. Only at its eastern end do these diminish, and here the pirates erected a fort to prevent landing, and to guard the entrance to the inlet which forms the northeast boundary. To this day the promontory is called Gun Point.

Almost impregnable from the sea, Leamcon was nearly as difficult of approach from land.

Anything more suitable for the embarrassment of an attacking force it would be difficult to imagine. For miles as you draw near there is scarcely a level spot. Sudden rises and convenient hollows, overhanging rocks and troublesome defiles, every where seem as though planned for an endless succession of ambuscades; and the general trend of the ground, which rises from all sides to a central watchtower, would enable the defence to be controlled, and directed with a precision and unexpectedness which would prove fatal to anything except overwhelming numbers.

The entrance to the Leamcon peninsula is a slender isthmus. To-day it is perhaps three hundred yards wide, but when the pirates ruled, it was rather of the nature of a narrow rocky causeway. At the opposite side the ground, or rather the rock, rises rapidly. The capture of that position would be tantamount to rushing a bridge directly commanded by a fortress.

Finally, supposing an invader to have prevailed thus far (none ever did), the castle would still remain, strong, stern, and most difficult of access. Having fought his way over broken ground, overhanging steep and lofty cliffs for nearly a mile, till seemingly within spring of the castle, he would find himself on the brink of a sharp precipice, fifty feet deep, and high above him, on the opposite side of the dividing chasm, would frown the stronglyguarded entrance. Except for

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a natural bridge of rock, so narrow that not more than two assailants could cross it abreast, the islet on which the castle stands is completely cut off from the peninsula.

It will be readily understood how the strength of such a position and the resources of its occupiers ensured a general immunity from attack, and the scanty provision made for guarding the seas made it easy for the pirates to cruise in every direction.

James I. was not long king before the pirates began to realise their opportunities. In the summer of 1605 we find the Deputy, Sir Arthur Chichester, complaining that pirates hinder all trade upon the Irish coasts, a state of affairs which he attributes to the withdrawal of the necessary protection.

At

We get a glimpse soon after into the class of men with whom the authorities had to deal. "Captain Conello" was surprised and taken while cruising in a small barque off Wexford. He and some of his companions are described as "notable offenders." the time of capture they were returning laden with spoils from Barnstaple. On a former occasion they had got into trouble for a similar raid upon the goods of the merchants of Exeter. Under the circumstances very abject submission might have been expected, coupled with any possible guarantees

future good

conduct. But Conello displayed wrath instead of penitence, and his and his threats of

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and their neighbours would seem to have caused real alarm. Perhaps Conello had some ground for his hauteur and effrontery. When in Exeter jail for his previous offence, and expected to meet his deserts on the gallows, he had been saved by the mediation of a highly placed official. There is no sign that he had any friends in Ireland, and the Deputy sincerely desired to make of him an example. Sir Arthur, however, found himself face to face with two formidable obstacles. Conello was a man of education, a distinction still so rare as to possess peculiar privileges. When the question of procedure came up, the judges were of opinion that he "would be admitted his cleargie," which, as he could read well, meant that his life would be safe. Against this technicality the determination of the Deputy prevailed. Realising that if Conello could mock at justice, honest merchantmen would be afraid to put to sea, he obtained from the " Advisers of law" an opinion to the effect that "benefit of book should not be admitted to offenders of this kind." The second obstacle was less easily surmounted. The sword of Irish justice struck as it pleased, or perhaps we should say as it could, on land, but it was powerless at sea. Until a remedy could be applied the pirates who played havoc with Irish commerce must be sent to England for trial. There was no course open for Sir Arthur but to

amid the uncertainties of an English court. As to the sequel the State Papers are silent, but from other sources there is reason to believe that here also Sir Arthur prevailed, and Conello was hanged.

During the next few years the resources and the audacity of the pirates increased with startling speed. We no longer read of "small barques." They took the seas with vessels that were able to outsail and outmatch the king's ships. When, by any means open to them, the authorities succeeded in making a capture, they were extremely glad to employ the pirates' boats on their own side. Sometimes, as we shall see, they could not resist the temptation of employing the pirates themselves: men who could sail as they did, and with such intimate knowledge of the coasts, were much to be desired in the king's navy.

The pirates' methods of living were extremely simple: they waylaid and captured ships and cargoes all round the coasts. The crews, as a rule, were allowed to go free. The ships, if suitable, were kept; if not, with their cargoes they were disposed of to best advantage. Purchasers were never a difficulty in those lawless days. Not only at the coast, but in many distant and some surprising quarters, buyers were plentiful.

For the purposes of barter Leamcon proved a valuable emporium. The smallest possible amount of shaping was needed to fashion the rocks,

which rise abruptly from the deep water of the harbour, into convenient quays. Those natural landing-places tell their tale even to this day. Many of the pirates settled their wives and families upon the peninsula, and so formed a trading nucleus.

In return for the goods, and the money which the pirates lavished freely, the landsmen of the locality kept them well supplied with all that they required. Many and various were the efforts made by the authorities to suppress this traffic; but the "land pirates," as they were termed, set them at defiance. They had, as we shall see, substantial reason for concluding that official threats often carried more sound than meaning.

From time to time the pirate supplies were obtained in a still more elementary way. Then, as now, there was much fish to be acquired in Irish waters, and fishing fleets came from England for the season. This was the pirates' opportunity; the provisions carefully prepared for the coming and going of the fishermen were exactly suitable to their requirements. Whenever they could waylay a fishing - boat they appropriated everything she carried. "This year, writes one of the king's officers in 1606, "the pirates robbed more than a hundred sail, and sent them empty home."

But what, it will be asked, were the king's Deputy, and that highly-titled official, the President of Munster, doing to allow such defiance of the law?

Where were the king's officers and the king's ships?

A single battleship, the Tremontagne, was all that was available during the early years of James I. She had formerly been supported by two smaller ships, but these were withdrawn. In all departments frugality, or rather parsimony, was the order. The Deputy was often desperate for lack of funds, and had to borrow where he could. The pay promised was on an economical scale. Even when the difference in prices between then and now is remembered, 5s. aday was not wealth for an officer who held Admiral's rank. Only too often months passed during which no pay was forthcoming for either officers or crew. It was no wonder that the king's representatives felt themselves unable to deal effectively with the growing evil.

They felt their position acutely, the more so because the Privy Council were continually ordering and urging the suppression of piracy. Thus we find the Deputy begging in 1607 for an adequate supply of king's ships, and complaining that without them they have to make use of "sorry ships," and have recourse to "paltry stratagems.'

The account of one of these stratagems has survived, and its sequel is instructive. One summer day in 1607 a smartlooking vessel sailed into Youghal harbour. Presently it transpired that she was privateer, commanded by one Captain Coward. There appears to have been no attempt