The Irish who remained within the English pale were, one and all,
hostile to the English domination. They were therefore subjected
to a rigorous system of police, the natural though lamentable
effect of extreme danger and extreme provocation. A Papist was
not permitted to have a sword or a gun. He was not permitted to
go more than three miles out of his parish except to the market
town on the market day. Lest he should give information or
assistance to his brethren who occupied the western half of the
island, he was forbidden to live within ten miles of the
frontier. Lest he should turn his house into a place of resort
for malecontents, he was forbidden to sell liquor by retail. One
proclamation announced that, if the property of any Protestant
should be injured by marauders, his loss should be made good at
the expense of his Popish neighbours. Another gave notice that,
if any Papist who had not been at least three months domiciled in
Dublin should be found there, he should be treated as a spy. Not
more than five Papists were to assemble in the capital or its
neighbourhood on any pretext. Without a protection from the
government no member of the Church of Rome was safe; and the
government would not grant a protection to any member of the
Church of Rome who had a son in the Irish army.72

In spite of all precautions and severities, however, the Celt
found many opportunities of taking a sly revenge. Houses and
barns were frequently burned; soldiers were frequently murdered;
and it was scarcely possible to obtain evidence against the
malefactors, who had with them the sympathies of the whole
population. On such occasions the government sometimes ventured
on acts which seemed better suited to a Turkish than to an
English administration. One of these acts became a favourite