Ireland’s highwaymen did not necessarily fit the romantic vision of Robin Hood robbing the rich to help the poor, but they still proved popular amongst the native Irish as they generally targeted planters or the gentry, writes Colm Wallace.

 

Highwaymen were relatively common figures on the roads of Ireland and Britain in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Moreso than any other type of criminal, the highwayman is viewed sympathetically to this day and even seen in a romantic light by some.

The most famous example of a highwayman is surely England’s Robin Hood, who has acquired an almost mythical status as a man who robbed from the underserving rich and gave the proceeds to the trodden-upon poor.

Dick Turpin has a similar legacy in his home country, although more recent historians have pinned murder and other ghastly crimes upon him.
Nevertheless, highwaymen are generally remembered as well-dressed rogues, possibly with a handkerchief covering their faces, asking in a well-mannered and non-violent manner for their wealthy targets to ‘Stand and Deliver.’ But what of Ireland? Who were our highwaymen and what kind of legacy do they deserve?

Seventeenth-century Irish highwaymen were known as ‘tories,’ a word that comes from the Irish word for raider, although they later became widely known as ‘rapparees.’ These men were often of the dispossessed Irish farming class, whose land had been confiscated in one of the various plantations. For this reason, they invariably targeted planters or the gentry, something which proved popular amongst many native Irish.

One prominent example of a rapparee was Francis McHugh, often called Black Francis due to his jet-black hair. A native of west Tyrone, McHugh and his large band of outlaws plied their trade in the area on the Fermanagh/Tyrone/Donegal border. At one stage they are said to have stolen 70,000 gold sovereigns from a band of redcoats, something which led to a large reward being placed on their heads.

McHugh and his band were finally caught near Enniskillen in 1780. At his trial, a daughter of one of the houses he had previously plundered begged for clemency for McHugh due to the gentlemanly way he had treated the household. Her pleas were in vain and McHugh was hanged, his body being brought back by friends to Templecarne Graveyard outside Pettigo in Co. Donegal, an area he knew well.

Continue reading in this week’s Ireland’s Own