It was considered a grave reproach, and an evidence of barbarism, when Maguire sent word to the Lord Deputy, who wished to send a sheriff to Fermanagh:  “Your sheriff will be welcome, but let me know his eric [the fine which would be levied on the district if he were killed], that if my people cut off his head, I may levy it on the country.”  One other instance from another source will sufficiently prove that the dread of an English sheriff was well founded.  The chieftain of Oriel, Hugh MacMahon, had given a present of 600 cows to the Lord Deputy to recognize his rights.  Sir Henry Bagnal the Marshal of Ireland, had his head-quarters at Newry, where his property had been principally acquired by deeds of blood, and he wished for a share of the spoil.  A charge of treason was made against MacMahon after the cows had been accepted; a jury of common soldiers was empannelled to try the case.  A few were Irish, and they were locked up without food until they agreed to give the required verdict of guilty, while the English jurors were permitted to go in and out as they pleased.  The unfortunate chieftain was hanged, in two days after his arrest, at his own door; his property was divided amongst those whom we must call his murderers.  The MacMahon sept were, however, permitted to retain a portion on payment of a “good fine, underhand,” to the Lord Deputy.[450]

In 1590, Hugh of the Fetters, an illegitimate son of the famous Shane O’Neill, was hanged by the Earl of Tyrone, for having made false charges against him to the Lord Deputy.  This exercise of authority excited considerable fear, and the Earl was obliged to clear himself of blame before Elizabeth.  After a brief detention in London, he was permitted to return to Ireland, but not until he had signed certain articles in the English interest, which he observed precisely as long as it suited his convenience.  About this time his nephew, Hugh O’Donnell, made an ineffectual attempt to escape from Dublin Castle, but he was recaptured, and more closely guarded.  This again attracted the attention of Government to the family; but a more important event was about to follow.  O’Neill’s wife was dead, and the chieftain was captivated by the beauty of Sir Henry Bagnal’s sister.  How they contrived to meet and to plight their vows is not known, though State Papers have sometimes revealed as romantic particulars.  It has been discovered, however, from that invaluable source of information, that Sir Henry was furious, and cursed himself and his fate that his “bloude, which had so often been spilled in reppressinge this rebellious race, should nowe be mingled with so traitorous a stocke and kindred.”  He removed the from Newry to her sister’s house, near Dublin, who was the wife of Sir Patrick Barnwell.  The Earl followed Miss Bagnal thither.  Her brother-in-law received him courteously; and while the O’Neill engaged the family in conversation, a confidential friend rode off with the lady, who was married to O’Neill immediately after.