When he had informed his persecutors that he was a priest and an archbishop, they at once consigned him to “a dark and loathsome prison, and kept him there bound in chains till the Holy Thursday of the following year (1584).”  He was then summoned before the Protestant Archbishop Loftus and Wallop.  They tempted him with promises of pardon, honour, and preferment; they reasoned with him, and urged all the usual arguments of heretics against his faith; but when all had failed, they declared their determination to use “other means to change his purpose.”  They did use them-they failed.  But these were the means:  the Archbishop was again heavily ironed.  He was remanded to prison.  His persecutors hastened after him; and on the evening of Thursday, May 5, 1584, they commenced their cruel work.  They tied him firmly to a tree, as his Lord had once been tied.  His hands were bound, his body chained, and then his feet and legs were thrust into long boots, filled with oil, turpentine, and pitch, and stretched upon an iron grate, under which a slow fire was kindled.  The spectacle which was exhibited when the instruments of torture were withdrawn has been described, but I cannot write the description.  What sufferings he must have endured during that long night, no words could tell.  Again he was tempted with the offer of earthly honours, and threatened with the vengeance of prolonged tortures.  Through all his agony he uttered no word of complaint, and his countenance preserved its usual serene and tranquil expression.  His sister was sent to him, as a last resource, to tempt him to apostatize, but he only bade her ask God’s forgiveness for the crime she had committed.  Meanwhile, the cruelties which had been executed on him became known; public feeling, as far as it was Catholic, was excited; and it was determined to get rid of the sufferer quietly.  At early dawn of Friday, May 6, 1584, he was carried out to the place now called Stephen’s-green, where what remained of human life was quickly extinguished, first by putting him again to torture, and then by hanging.

O’Neill had hitherto acted merely on the defensive; but the memory of the events just related was still fresh in the minds of thousands, and it was generally felt that some effort must be made for freedom of conscience, if not for deliverance from political oppression.  A conference was held at Dundalk.  Wallop, the Treasurer, whose name has been so recently recorded in connexion with the torture of the Archbishop, and Gardiner, the Chief Justice, received the representatives of the northern chieftains, but no important results followed.