From Robin Hood to Dick Turpin, highwaymen and outlaws have been folk heroes for centuries. Known for demanding “Your money or your life!” or to “Stand and deliver!” these highway robbers and racketeers have been romanticized and immortalized by authors like W.H. Ainsworth and William Makepeace Thackery. But how do we decern between history and myth? Let’s consider two individuals that bring highwaymen much closer to home.
The first of these is “Captain” James Freney. Born in County Kilkenny in 1719, Freney was from the noble De La Freigne family, who descended from an Anglo-Norman knight who had come to Ireland with Richard de Clare in his twelfth-century conquest of the island. However, Oliver Cromwell’s 17th century campaign in Ireland had turned the tide for the landed Irish, and Freney grew up in poverty, serving the new gentry. Disillusioned, a young Freney began gambling and drinking, moving to Waterford City to open a Public House, before being quickly run out of business by locals.
Back in Kilkenny and with money running out for Freney and his young wife, he was recruited by a local gang leader by the name of John Reddy. In the 1740s, Freney and his new gang of highwaymen targeted the rich in their homes and their coaches around County Kilkenny. But his outlaw career could not last forever, and Freney surrendered in 1749. A deal was struck that allowed him to emigrate, but there is no evidence to suggest this happened. Freney ended up dying in County Wexford on December 20th, 1788.
Freney’s legacy has reached into the present-day, featuring in Thackery’s novel The Luck of Barry Lyndon, and it’s 1975 film adaption by director Stanley Kubrick. For the month of September, Freney’s intimidating blunderbuss is on display at Down County Museum as object of the month. Despite the ominous warning inscribed on its muzzle, ‘Happy Is He Who Escapes Me,’ Freney was said to have avoided violence wherever possible. It has been claimed that he helped the poor with his spoils, and that in special cases of need, he would even return some money to his victims.
By the time James Freney had begun his career in the 1740s, the highwayman was already an established figure in Ireland. Like Freney, many notable highwaymen were formerly landed gentry, turning to a life of crime after Cromwell’s land confiscations.
One other such individual was Count Redmond O’Hanlon. O’Hanlon’s family were once Lords of present-day County Armagh, and the Masters of Tandragee Castle, though he was also born into relative poverty. After losing land in the mid-17th century, O’Hanlon became an outlaw in the hills of Slieve Gullion. The Count ran what was known as a watch over the new landlords in the area, protecting their cattle and horses at the cost of a black rent payment. However, if any property was successfully stolen under their watch, the Count would pay the according value to the farmer.
Similarly, travelers could pay O’Hanlon’s gang for passes to ensure safe travels on the road – likely as protection from O’Hanlon himself! Any non-affiliated thieves and robbers found by O’Hanlon would be fined on the first two occasions, but a third offense meant death, and the Count did not break his word. O’Hanlon was said to be a reserved man, not drinking alcohol and not keeping the money he stole for himself. Rather, it is claimed that much of it went to the poor, but of course his network of spies and informants did not come free. Either way, O’Hanlon and his men were still highwaymen, and they would not hesitate to rob any who did not pay for their protection.
Unsurprisingly, Dublin Castle put a price on Redmond and other outlaws in 1674. The reward for O’Hanlon is said to have reached £400, but Redmond successfully evaded capture. In 1678, he was even offered a full pardon, but refused. James Butler, the Duke of Ormond, decided that new tactics were necessary to capture O’Hanlon, and hatched a plot with Redmond’s foster brother, Art O’Hanlon, on the threat of execution. A seemingly trusted relative, Art joined Redmond’s gang and became his bodyguard. The trap was set.
On the 25th of April 1681, in Hilltown, County Down, Art O’Hanlon shot and killed his brother with a blunderbuss – possibly much like Freney’s. Popular accounts argue that Redmond was killed in his sleep, but Art’s own account said otherwise. The dying Count O’Hanlon supposedly requested that his companion William O’Sheil cut of his head and hide it, which he did. However, it was eventually handed over to the authorities, who displayed it on a spike at the dungeons in Castle Dorras. Now the site of the Down Recorder offices, O’Hanlon’s story ended in Downpatrick, County Down.
