they remained many
years closely confined, and where they ended their days. Sir Allen
Apsley, in 1623, made a report of the prisoners then in his custody,
in which he said, 'There is here Sir Nial Garve O'Donel, a man that
was a good subject during the late queen's time, and did as great
service to the state as any man of his nation. He has been a prisoner
here about thirteen years. His offence is known specially to the Lord
Chichester. Naghtan, his son, was taken from Oxford and committed with
his father. I never heard any offence he did.'

While O'Cahan was in prison, commissioners sat in his mansion at
Limavaddy, including the Primate Usher, Bishop Montgomery of Derry,
and Sir John Davis. They decided that by the statute of 11 Elizabeth,
which it was supposed had been cancelled by the king's pardon, all his
territory had been granted to the Earl of Tyrone, and forfeited by
his flight. It was, therefore, confiscated. Although sundry royal and
viceregal proclamations had assured the tenants that they would not
be disturbed in their possessions, on account of the offences of their
chiefs, it was now declared that all O'Cahan's country belonged to
the crown, and that neither he nor those who lived under him had any
estate whatever in the lands. Certain portions of the territory were
set apart for the Church, and handed over to Bishop Montgomery. 'Of
all the fair territory which once was his, Donald Balagh had not now
as much as would afford him a last resting-place near the sculptured
tomb of Cooey-na-gall. O'Cahan got no sympathy, and he deserved
none; for he might have foreseen that the Government to which he sold
himself would cast him off as an outworn tool, when he could no
longer subserve their wicked purposes.'[1] 'Thus were the O'Cahans
dispossessed by the colonists of Derry, to whom their broad lands and
teeming rivers were passed, _mayhap_ for ever. Towards the close of
the Cromwellian war in Ireland, the Duchess of Buckingham, passing
through Limavaddy, visited its ancient castle, then sadly dilapidated,
and, entering one of the apartments, saw an aged woman wrapped in a
blanket, and crouching over a peat fire, which filled the room with
reeking smoke. After gazing at this pitiful spectacle, the duchess
asked the miserable individual her name; when the latter, rising and
drawing herself up to her full height, replied, "I am the wife of
the O'Cahan."'[Father Meehan dedicates his valuable work to the lord
chanc