Fitzwilliam has no money
Fitzwilliam did not cease to beg for his recall or for men and money to do something worthy of the place which he was forced to fill. In his office of Vice-Treasurer he had incurred debt to the Crown, and if only allowed to go back to England he would sell Milton to pay them. In the meantime Ireland lay at the mercy of a foreign enemy. Let but 6,000 Spaniards land, and the loss would be as irrevocable as that of Calais, nor would the Narrow Seas be any longer safe. Fitzwilliam supposed that Sidney was his enemy at Court; but the friendly tone of Leicester’s letters makes this unlikely, and it is probable that the real difficulty was with the Queen. Still the late and present Deputies differed widely about the respective merits of Butlers and Geraldines. Ormonde had often begged Elizabeth not to hear his accusers in his absence; and Sidney may have reported against him, for he was now sent for. This was too much for Fitzwilliam’s endurance. The South, he said, always was tickly, Ormonde only could manage it, and in short he could not be spared.[217 - Fitzwilliam to Burghley, March 24, April 15, May 5; to Leicester, March 16; Leicester to Fitzwilliam, March 8.]
The Queen reduces the army
A loyal Irishman
Ulster was greatly excited by colonisation rumours, and multitudinous hordes of Scots, introduced by Tirlogh Luineach and his wife, or seeking settlement for themselves, kept the scanty English garrisons in constant alarm. Sorley Boy MacDonnell with 700 men beset Carrickfergus. Captain Cheston, a brave and discreet soldier, sallied forth at the head of his company and discomfited his assailants, but received an arrow in his thigh; such surgery as was available failing to extract it, he lingered fourteen days, and then died. This was the moment chosen by Elizabeth to reduce the army in Ireland. 9,400l. was sent over with strict injunctions to discharge 166 men from the foot companies and 70 from the garrisons of Leighlin, Dungarvan, Maryborough, Bunratty, and Ballintober, and to hold 500 more in readiness to go as soon as the money arrived. The news spread fast over Ireland, causing ‘general jollity’ and a universal belief that the days of Saxon rule were over, that an Irish nobleman would be Viceroy, and that all late English settlers would soon be hurrying to the seaside. ‘When all be discharged,’ said the unfortunate Deputy, ‘God send me some rid out of Ireland, for I look to see fire round about in every quarter; but I must confess this medicine is well taken away, for the disease did but putrefy under it without any heal.’ Among the men discharged were several who had been at Derry, and who had received pensions since the abandonment of the post. One of these, Edmond Byrne, deserves a passing notice. He had been in the service of Don Carlos, and on hearing a Spanish gentleman speak evil of Queen Elizabeth, had attacked him at the palace gates, though attended by two armed followers. Having killed his man and beaten off the two underlings, Byrne first took sanctuary, and then fled to Portugal. There the same conduct provoked the same retort, and Byrne wounded the slanderer of his sovereign. This loyal Irishman afterwards received a pension of four shillings a day.[218 - Notes of such as are appointed to be discharged, May 8; Fitzwilliam to Burghley, April 15 and May 21; to the Queen and Privy Council, Feb. 27; Morrin’s Patent Rolls, ii. 64. The fight in which Captain Cheston was wounded took place before Feb. 14.]
Poverty of the Crown
The best excuse for Elizabeth’s ill-judged parsimony was the great difficulty which she found in getting money at this time. The breach with Alva had destroyed the credit system of the Netherlands, and English finance had not yet become sufficient to itself. Moreover, the Queen took care that Spain should be fully occupied, and the capture of Brill, which coincided with the discharge of the troops in Ireland, made a Spanish descent on that country exceedingly improbable. Alva had never been able to replace the Genoese treasure detained in England, and it was pretty clear that there would be none to spare for less important services. But by the relaxation of English efforts in Ireland, nearly all that had been done there was neutralised, and it is impossible not to feel some pity for Fitzwilliam.[219 - Burgon’s Life of Sir Thomas Gresham, chaps. vi. and vii.]
Fitton in Connaught
The Presidency of Connaught did not flourish greatly under Fitton’s charge; perhaps no one could have done anything there without a considerable army. He could indict O’Connor Don and MacDermot for high treason, he could lay whole baronies waste, and he could generally take castles. But he could not establish either peace or respect for the common law, and he dared not, while he remained in the province, leave the Brehon law in undisputed possession of the field. The civil and the canon law, as well as the law of England, all declared that a man should be held liable only for his own acts. But Irish custom extended the liability to descendants and to collaterals, and Fitton seems to have thought it possible to play fast and loose with the two systems, and to use their own customs against the Irish, though contrary, as he believed, to all law, human and divine.
Clanricarde’s sons
The Earl of Clanricarde’s two sons were in open rebellion, and he was bound to answer for them both by Irish law, of which he had accepted the liabilities, and by agreement under his own hand. The Earl was loyal enough, as his whole career showed, but he was unable to control his clan, and was perhaps not sorry to get out of a temporary difficulty by surrendering himself. There were frequent and very circumstantial reports of an intended Spanish descent, and he may well have dreaded the necessity either of joining or of opposing an invader who was under papal patronage. Fitton seems to have had no other case against the old lord than that he levied exactions like his ancestors, a charge which came with remarkably bad grace from the President. Fitzwilliam said openly that he could only be chastised by bringing in the Mayo Burkes, who had always been rebels, and he very justifiably shrank from such a miserable expedient. A more respectable plan was to send Thomond home and encourage him to earn a complete restoration by his service against the Clanricarde rebels.[220 - Fitton to Burghley, Jan. 31, with enclosures, March 31; Fitzwilliam to Burghley, April 21; Lord Deputy and Council to the Privy Council, May 15.]
Fitton and Clanricarde
On first arriving in Dublin, Clanricarde had been shut up in the castle. After a month he was released on his own recognisances, and three months later he was again committed on Fitton preferring against him a formal charge of being the counsellor, comforter, and procurer of his son’s doings. A few months before Fitzwilliam had pronounced Fitton a wise and sober man, very conscientious, severely just, and not subject to gusts of passion. He now complained that the President had refused to reveal the charge against Clanricarde at the Council Board. This the Lord Deputy considered a stain on his own loyalty, and he demanded an opportunity of clearing himself. The Earl’s offence, if offence there was, fell far short of treason, and he could be very badly spared from his own country. The Queen rebuked Fitton severely for his secret ways, and for arresting the old Earl, who made his submission to the Lord President of Connaught, only asking that he might in future have the assistance of a councillor to keep order. This was granted, and he was soon sent back to Connaught with a general commission to grant pardons at discretion; a wonderful end to a trial for high treason. The Council patched up a truce between Fitton and Fitzwilliam, but the flame soon burst forth again. Clanricarde’s detention in Dublin lasted about six months, and he never quite forgave Fitton. ‘After being set at liberty,’ he said, ‘I did within one twelvemonth hang my own son, my brother’s son, my cousin-german’s son, and one of the captains of my gallowglasses, besides fifty of my own followers that bare armour and weapons; which the Archbishop of Tuam, the Bishop of Clonfert, and the whole corporation of Galway may witness.’[221 - Earl of Clanricarde’s Declaration, March 8, 1578; Fitton to Burghley, January 31, 1572; with enclosures, March 31; Lord Deputy and Council to the Privy Council, May 15; to the Privy Council and Fitzwilliam to Burghley, April 21, May 24; to the Queen, &c., July 25; to Burghley, Aug. 4. Order by Lord Deputy and Council, July 22.]
Fitton driven into a corner
When Fitton wrote to say that he expected soon to have no place in his power except Galway, Fitzwilliam sneeringly answered that he would be a very old man before the rebels came to seek him at Athlone. For a few weeks longer the President kept the field. Clare Galway was yielded at his approach, and a few kerne were shot here and there, but the young Burkes eluded him as completely as David eluded Saul. On one occasion they were close, and Ulick, taking an axe in his hand, declared that he would lead on; but the captain of gallowglasses, wiser in his generation, advised a fitter opportunity. Lady Mary Burke escaped out of Galway, and went to join her brothers. Then provisions ran short, the Mayo Burkes, whom Fitzwilliam had thought it possible to retain as allies, joined their namesake, and Fitton retired to Athlone, leaving the whole province free from any pretence of settled government.[222 - Fitton to Leicester, May 18, in Carew; to Fitzwilliam, June 16.]
Even Athlone is not safe
Fitton was only three months older when he saw his dismal prophecy fulfilled. Having demolished most of the castles in Clanricarde, lest they should offer a refuge to the English, the young Burkes, with a force estimated at from 500 to 2,000, and largely composed of Scots mercenaries, plundered the district between the Suck and Shannon, then crossed the great river, and burned all along the left bank as far as Athlone. James Fitzmaurice was with them, chiefly in the vain hope of relieving Castlemaine, before which Perrott had again sat down. Turning to the east, the wild bands harried Roscommon and Westmeath, burned Mullingar, Meelick, and other places, and then doubled back to Athlone, to which they set fire. In spite of the guns in the castle and the musketeers on the steeple of the church, they approached boldly from the north side, broke into the cloister with the help of masons, and, being aided by a high wind, burned most of the malt and biscuit stored above. Of the 350 soldiers promised by Fitzwilliam not one had arrived, and the President could only look on while the town burned. Meeting with no resistance, the rebels again crossed the Shannon and went to Galway. That town was too strong for them to attempt, but they killed an English captain in a skirmish, and on two separate occasions passed the walls without serious opposition and penetrated into Connemara, where they chastised the O’Flaherties for their adherence to English rule. Fitton could do nothing but beg the Lord Deputy not to pardon the treason after the old fashion of Ireland. ‘It is comforted,’ he said, ‘and fostered from under your own elbows, I mean Dublin itself.’[223 - Four Masters, 1572. Fitton to Fitzwilliam, July 16; John Crofton to Fitzwilliam, same date; Bishop of Meath to Fitzwilliam, July 17; Fitzwilliam to the Queen, July 24.]
Fitton is forced to leave Connaught to itself
Fitton lingered at Athlone for a few weeks and then retired, first to Dublin and then to England. Fitzwilliam announced that Connaught would soon be quiet, for there would be no one left to resist the rebels. The unlucky President was not to be blamed, for he ‘could not work miracles as Moses did.’ After one more attempt to give trouble, which was frustrated by Perrott’s energy, Clanricarde’s sons – the MacIarlas, as they were called – saw that there was no fear of punishment, and that they might as well sue for mercy. They told the Deputy that they were in a wretched and damnable state; and this was true, for they were very vicious young men. They knew not where to turn, and they offered to give themselves up and be good subjects for ever if only they might be assured of the pardon which they feared to ask. Their father was powerless to control them, and he supported their petition on the ground that despair might ‘make them follow young counsels.’ He himself was ready for any service, or even to go to prison, and would welcome any president that had no property in Connaught, ‘excepting always Sir Edward Fitton, who sought my blood.’ A good salary, he added fairly enough, would be the best defence against corruption. Believing that Fitton would traduce him, he sent an agent to England to enter a cross case. The late president’s prayer was so far heard that the young Burkes received no immediate pardon. In the meantime Athlone was held by a scanty garrison. In one of the long nights just after the new year Art Maguire, who had the watch, arranged with some of the O’Kellys to betray the castle. A ladder was planted and thirty-four men scaled the walls unobserved, when a chance noise startled the guard. The assailants called out in English to make way for the Earl of Clanricarde’s sons; but they were worsted in the scuffle and jumped off the battlements, several legs being broken. ‘If the devils had not made great shifts they had broken most of their necks.’ Fitzwilliam attributed the result entirely to God’s providence. The Irish had been two hours inside the castle and were probably waiting for reinforcements, very likely for the graceless young men in whose names they professed to act.[224 - Fitzwilliam to Burghley, Sept. 25, 1572; to the Queen, Feb. 18, 1573; Clanricarde to Fitzwilliam, Nov. 2, 1572; to Burghley, Dec. 15. Earl of Clanricarde’s sons to Fitzwilliam, Nov. 9; Edward Brereton to Fitton, Feb. 9, 1573.]
Ormonde goes to England
Fitzmaurice still at large, 1572
Ormonde was summoned to England at the beginning of 1572, and there were not wanting detractors to say that he was unwilling to go, and that he was playing a game of his own. Some thought him too merciful, and one of his followers asked Burghley to give him a private hint inculcating severity. But neither Perrott nor Fitzwilliam could do without him, and he was certainly not idle. The pursuit of Fitzmaurice was but a wild-goose chase, and every now and then some new Geraldine partisan arose and gave local trouble. Edward Butler, with five hundred men, went to Aherlow, killed a few kerne, and drove off some cattle which had been stolen from Kerry; but he never saw Fitzmaurice, though he reported that he was weak and might be easily attacked. The difficulty was to find him. Meanwhile Rory MacShane, with a small band, swept away what he could find in the meadows about Clonmel. The townsmen were disinclined to follow, but their sovereign threatened to denounce them as traitors, and they accompanied him into the hills near the town. The foolhardy sovereign, who had refused Ormonde’s offer of a garrison, allowed himself to be drawn into rough ground, and lost his life. Then came Edward Butler, who killed twenty-one of Rory’s men. The solitary prisoner was promptly hanged, drawn, and quartered. Besides these services performed through his brother, Ormonde was able at this time to make head against Rory Oge O’More, while Kildare, with six hundred kerne of his own and a hundred of the Queen’s, pressed that chief from the North.
The Lord President reports progress
At another time Fitzmaurice threatened Youghal, but the Viscount of Decies sent timely aid. If to keep the Queen’s peace was the object of government, it had very indifferent success. Yet Perrott did not despair. Wales and Northumbria had been settled by Presidents, and why not Munster? ‘Came it to perfection elsewhere in one year? No, not in seven.’ The Irish were subtle, fond of license, and ready for anything as long as it was not for their good. But he claimed to have laid a sound foundation. Munster was no longer governed by letters from Dublin which no one obeyed. Before he came no man could go a mile outside Cork, Limerick, Youghal, Kinsale, Kilmallock, Dingle, or Cashel. No one helped but Ormonde, yet the country had become fairly safe, and English fishermen fished in peace. The rebels had dwindled from 1,000 to ‘fifty poor kerne, and ten or twelve bad horsemen.’ The decentralising system might be carried much further, and Perrott recommended a President for Ulster. The Lord Deputy might then spend some part of his time at Athlone. The advice was probably good, but the poverty of the Crown hindered all comprehensive reforms.[225 - Perrott to Fitzwilliam, May 11, 1572; Ormonde to Fitzwilliam, Feb. 5, 1572, enclosing one from Edward Butler; Mayor of Youghal to Lord – , March 21: John Danyell to Fitzwilliam, Feb. 26.]
Castlemaine taken. Perrott cannot catch Fitzmaurice
Early in June Perrott again besieged Castlemaine. Most of the MacCarthies, O’Sullivans, and other West Munster clans furnished contingents, as well as the Barrys and Roches, and some of the walled towns. James Fitzmaurice having failed to bring the Scots from Connaught to its relief, the castle surrendered after a three months’ blockade, ‘through the want of provisions,’ say the annalists, ‘not at all for want of defence.’ This being the only place which resisted the English arms, and the most convenient spot for foreigners to land, the success was a considerable one in spite of the time it had taken. When it was just too late Fitzmaurice, with Ulick Burke and Shane MacOliver, passed the Shannon near Portumna, with the help of the O’Maddens, and marched down the left bank towards Limerick, the fears or sympathies of the citizens again swelling their numbers to 1,000. The sheriff attempting to withstand them was slain with thirty of his men, and Perrott, who besides his own servants had only 160 English soldiers, at once proceeded in search of them. He was accompanied by several native lords and chiefs, but seems to have set but little store by their services. Fitzmaurice lurked in the wooded and boggy plain between Limerick and Pallas, and MacBrien Coonagh sent word to Perrott that the Scots would certainly fight in the neighbourhood of Ballinagarde. The floods were out, and the President found his enemy, apparently about 600 strong, advantageously posted on ground inaccessible to cavalry, and unapproachable even by foot soldiers marching more than two abreast. Perrott threw forward a few musketeers to skirmish, and then quitting the saddle led the way on foot to encourage the Irish lords, the attack being covered by a body of musketeers. The Scots threw their spears at the skirmishers and seemed disposed to charge, but a second and better-directed volley broke them, and they fled in disorder towards the Glen of Aherlow, leaving a few dead on the field. Perrott followed through a frightful country, but could not get a second chance. Clancare and Cormac MacTeige, MacCarthies who in their soul hated the Desmonds, did good service, but the other allies were lukewarm. Perrott blamed Lord Roche for keeping aloof with the cavalry, but if the President’s own description of the ground be true, his lordship had little choice. Ormonde was in England, and his presence alone would have done as much as all his forces without him; but Sir Edmund Butler co-operated zealously enough with the President, and the penitent Edward exhorted him to fresh exertions. ‘Remember,’ he said, ‘my dear brother, that though you did never so much service, it is but your duty, and far less than her Majesty deserved at our hands.’ On one occasion the Butlers brought in fifty heads, and Perrott allowed that they served most willingly in the field, though he does not seem to have had a high opinion of their actual achievements.[226 - Perrott to the Privy Council, Sept. 1; to Fitzwilliam, Sept. 12 and 16; to Burghley, Nov. 2; Fitzwilliam to Privy Council, Sept. 25; to Ormonde, Oct. 21; Edward Butler to Sir Edmund Butler, Oct. 19; Sir Edmund Butler to Richard Shee, Oct. 20; Bishop of Limerick to Perrott, Aug. 31; Mayor and Recorder of Limerick to Perrott, Sept. 1.]
Perrott cannot pay his soldiers. A mutiny
There were rumours of a second invasion of Scots from Connaught, but they did not come, and Perrott was left free to follow those already in his province. The indefatigable man made such preparations as he could for a grand attack on Aherlow with the help of the two Butlers, and he set out from Kilmallock in advance of his army. When he had gone a few miles the captains overtook him in hot haste to say that their men had mutinied and had returned to Kilmallock. The Irish auxiliaries were not bound to serve without English soldiers, and they immediately deserted the President, glad enough, no doubt, of the excuse. A few of the gentlemen remained, and Perrott retraced his steps to find his soldiers still under arms, clamouring for the Queen’s pay, and complaining of the endless and thankless toil to which they were condemned. He reminded them that he had already offered some money on account, that more was on the way, that they had but slender excuse for their insubordination, and that he had a mind to hang the ringleaders. The men answered firmly but respectfully that if he hanged one they would all swing together for company, and in the end he was forced to temporise. Crippled as a general, the President went off to hold assizes at Cork, where he found the people willing to prosecute and the juries ready to convict, so that the pleasures of hanging were not altogether denied him. The garrison of Kilmallock, in a fit of repentance, or persuaded by their officers, made a raid into Aherlow and killed some thirty of Fitzmaurice’s men sleeping in their cabins. ‘I am ashamed to write of so few,’ said the Lord President, ‘but considering their cowardliness and the continual watch which they use to keep, it is accounted as much here to have the lives of so few, as 1,000 in some other country. If I might have but one trusty gentleman of the Irishry I would not doubt I should in short time bring the country to good quiet.’ That one trusty gentleman was not to be had, but Ormonde’s brothers did what they could to prove that they were not, and, in spite of recent transgressions, never had been Irishry. Without any help from Perrott they attacked Fitzmaurice in his camp near Tipperary, and killed 100 of his men. That was the last important success of the campaign, which had proved beyond doubt that the rebels had no chance in the field against English soldiers or even against the Butler gallowglasses; but it had also proved that they could not be followed with advantage, and that the problem of Irish government was as far from solution as ever.[227 - Sir E. Butler to R. Shee, Nov.; Lord Deputy and Council to the Queen, Dec. 1.]
Stratagems of Fitzmaurice
On one occasion (we are not told the date or place) the hunter nearly became a prey to his quarry. A pretended deserter brought news that Fitzmaurice was hard by with only thirty persons, and offered to be the President’s guide, tendering his own life as security. With characteristic rashness Perrott followed the man with about thirty soldiers, and at the break of day came upon Fitzmaurice accompanied by 400 or 500 foot and 80 horse. Trewbrigg, the President’s secretary, who rode in advance, charged the Irish and Scots with three or four men, and lost his own life and a purse containing 100l., which served as a military chest. Nothing daunted, Perrott followed with the rest of his men. He jumped a bank and unhorsed one of the rebels. Another came behind him with his spear, held by the middle as in an Indian boar-hunt, and he was barely rescued by George Greame, afterwards famous in the Irish wars. Outnumbered by ten or twelve to one, the English soldiers were nearly overwhelmed, when Captain Bowles, not much more prudent than his chief, galloped up with three or four fresh men. Supposing these to be the advanced guard of a larger body, Fitzmaurice drew off. Even this lesson did not teach Perrott prudence. Fitzmaurice, being closely pursued, faced about near a bridge leading to a wood, and sent a man with a white cloth on the top of his spear. The Lord President allowed himself to be drawn into a parley, and while he wrangled about terms Fitzmaurice got his men over the water and escaped.[228 - Perrott’s Life, pp. 67, sqq.]
The Irish in Spain. Stukeley
The incessant rumours of Spanish invasion led to nothing, but these foreign intrigues are worth following for the light which they throw upon Elizabeth’s policy. Stukeley, finding that the Archbishop of Cashel’s party would not accept him as the champion of Irish Catholicism, went to Rome, where he walked barelegged and barefooted about the churches and streets. Fitzwilliam derisively reported that the man who had given up the kingdom of Florida and the dukedom of Ireland only for holiness’ sake was about to have a red hat, and that the superstitious people of Waterford really believed in his sanctity. Constant communication was kept up between Ireland, Spain, and the Low Countries, and there was scarcely a southern chief or lord who was not supposed to be in correspondence with Stukeley or with some other of the exiles. Many probably sympathised with the idea of a Spanish invasion, though not to such an extent as the sanguine Fitzgibbon had represented, and others may have thought it prudent to make friends with the mammon of unrighteousness. The adventurer, after his return from Rome, was attracted by the somewhat kindred spirit of Don John of Austria, and served under him either at Lepanto or in some smaller encounter with the Turks, after which he retired to Madrid, and ‘for his many deeds’ became more of a favourite than ever. A pension of 1,000 ducats per week was thought a suitable entertainment for the Duke of Ireland, and one Cahir O’Rourke obtained the command of forty men. The Bishop of Cadiz received orders from Philip to punish those who refused passages to the Irish refugees, friars, and others, and one Cormac, calling himself provincial of the Irish Dominicans, busied himself in seeing that the order was carried out. The French captains under one pretence or other refused to carry these emissaries; but the Portuguese were more subservient, and many Irishmen sailed from Lisbon as well as from the Spanish ports. Meanwhile loyal Englishmen were subjected to every inconvenience. Five ships were stopped at San Lucar and three at Seville, and many of Elizabeth’s subjects were closely imprisoned. The Inquisition worked harder than ever. Rumours of a fleet to be commanded by Stukeley were again rife, and some talked of as many as fifty ships. Philip II.’s slow mind was quite unequal to the task of coping with such statesmen as Cecil and Walsingham, and they were able to watch every move. English merchants and sea-captains, even Compostella pilgrims, took a pride in thwarting the despot, who seldom travelled further than Aranjuez, and imagined that he could rule all mankind by making silly marginal notes on despatches. Waterford having been recommended in 1569 as the best point for attacking Ireland, Philip, who apparently heard of the place for the first time, could only wonder in manuscript ‘whether the Duke of Feria knew anything of that port.’ Considering that Philip had been King of England, this is a fine illustration of the aphorism as to the small amount of wisdom with which the world is governed.[229 - Fitzwilliam to Burghley, May 24, 1571; to the Privy Council, April 15, 1572; Dominic Brown to Fitton, April 9, 1571. Examination of Walter French, March 30; and report of John Crofton, April 13, 1571. Memorandum concerning Ireland, 1571 (No. 44). Memorandum concerning Stukeley, March 5, 1572. Stukeley went to Rome early in the spring of 1571, and returned to Spain in November. See also Froude, x. 479, note.]
Effects of St. Bartholomew in Ireland
The day of St. Bartholomew could not but have its effect in Ireland. In Connaught and other Irish districts ‘the godly,’ as the few Protestants esteemed themselves, thought it prudent to hide. The rest of the people triumphed ‘as though the kingdom of Antichrist were once again erected.’ There was talk of the Spanish Inquisition, but little or no actual violence is recorded to have been done. Suspicion filled the air, and the sudden appearance of innumerable friars seemed to bode some great foreign movement. They came out of Ulster and traversed Connaught in companies of twenty at a time. Cormac, the so-called Provincial of the Dominicans, brought a budget of indulgences to Sligo, and published them openly. Friars preached at Galway before the ex-mayor and other leading townsmen, and held councils at Adare, Galway, and Donegal. They came and went between Ireland and France, and Fitzwilliam’s informant held that the preaching of Ulster friars ‘must naturally tend to rebellion.’ Their evident desire, he thought, was to subvert the English Government, and ‘set up their own wickedness.’ In Galway the mendicants bore themselves like princes, so that the Pope might be thought King of England and Ireland. Clanricarde himself dared not say a word, and Limerick threatened to be soon as bad as Galway.[230 - Edward White (Clanricarde’s clerk) to Fitzwilliam, Nov. 1572. On Nov. 29, Fitzwilliam answered that he was glad the Earl had such a jewel as White about him.]
Rise of Rory Oge O’More
Those parts of Ireland which were supposed to be tolerably well settled were pervaded by a sense of insecurity, and gave Fitzwilliam no help. King’s County, under the wise government of Henry Cowley, noted by an eminent lawyer as being the only Englishman who ruled by law, was long an exception; but the Queen owed the constable near 2,000l., and such disinterestedness could not be expected from every officer. Cowley had but twenty-three men, and, though others praised him, he was himself dissatisfied with the state of his district. Cosby was less successful in the Queen’s County, where Rory Oge O’More still kept an armed remnant of his tribe together. Kildare and Ormonde combined their forces but could not catch him, and he refused to cross the Barrow except in the company of the former Earl, who accordingly brought him to his castle of Kilkea. Rory said he would make no war against the Queen, but must be assured of life and living before he would submit; nor would he disperse his men, who were his only protection against many enemies. After consulting with Cosby, the two Earls gave him protection for a fortnight, on his undertaking not to damage the corn. When Ormonde went to England Rory broke out again, and found his neighbours willing enough to help him. Bands of fifty or a hundred invaded the Pale nightly with music and torches, as Fitzwilliam bitterly observed, ‘lest they should be heard or seen,’ yet he would not blame Cosby, for he had neither men nor money.[231 - N. White to Burghley, July 17, 1573; Fitzwilliam to Burghley, Oct. 6, 1572; to the Queen, Dec. 7, 1572, and Feb. 18, 1573; Henry Cowley to Burghley, March 12, 1572; Kildare and Ormonde to Burghley, Aug. 14, 1572.]
The O’Byrnes
In Wexford a gentleman named Browne was murdered by the O’Byrnes, among whom Feagh MacHugh was rising into distinction as a guerilla chief. Agard, the seneschal of Wicklow, took immediate vengeance on some of the mountaineers, and was then inclined to hold out hopes of mercy as the best chance of catching the most guilty parties, such as Matthew Furlong and others, who had employed the O’Byrnes. But Nicholas White, the seneschal of Wexford, went ‘thundering’ about saying that the Queen would never pardon anyone who had a hand in Browne’s murder. Fitzwilliam wished devoutly that White had stayed in England. The revenge already taken might have been severe enough even for White’s taste. Led by a mountaineer whom he had captured, and whose life was the price of his service as guide, Agard entered the south-west corner of Wicklow, where he burned sixteen villages, then passed through the valley of Imail, where he killed a foster-brother of James Eustace, afterwards the famous rebel Lord Baltinglass. A sister of Simon MacDavid’s was captured, ‘whom, if she do not stand me in stead, I mean to execute.’ Had plunder been the main object a very large number of cattle might easily have been driven off, but the guide, who may have had a quarrel of his own to avenge, offered to take the soldiers where they might ‘have some killing.’ Captain Hungerford and Lieutenant Parker preferred killing to kine, and went in at the head of Glendalough. ‘They slew many churls, women, and children,’ brought away much kine, and lost 500 more ‘while they were killing.’ Feagh MacHugh just escaped, but two of his sisters and two foster-brothers were slain. Much blood was destined to be shed before the blood of Robert Browne should be finally expiated. Sometimes the English officers seem to have set a very indifferent example. Robert Hartpole, sheriff of Carlow and constable of the Castle, and his sub-sheriff were accused upon oath of having seized a vast number of cattle on all sorts of pretences, of forcing labourers to work, and in general of every sort of violence and corruption. These misdeeds were said to have been committed by virtue of letters from the Earl of Ormonde. In the following year, Hartpole was one of those licensed by the Lord Deputy to cess Ormonde’s lands for protection against the O’Mores and O’Connors. No particular notice seems to have been taken of the charges against him, for he remained in Carlow to found a family, and to be remembered as a chief actor in one of the most horrible tragedies recorded even in Irish history.[232 - Fitzwilliam to Burghley, Aug. 26, 1572; Notes of Journey, May 1572; Examinations, &c., Aug. 21, 1572; License to Hartpole and others, Sept. 24, 1573. Hartpole was concerned in the Mullaghmast massacre.]
Bad effects of reducing the army
Fitzwilliam had reduced the army much against his will, and the disturbances which he had foreseen followed as a matter of course. He asked for reinforcements, unless the Queen wished deliberately to leave the whole country to the native Irish. Her answer was that she marvelled at the stir in Ireland, and that she would not send the 800 soldiers he asked for; and she reminded him that Mr. Smith had been ready to bring over that number if Fitzwilliam had not opposed the enterprise. Smith was, however, now really coming, and might give some help. The poor Deputy could only answer that the 800 men were much wanting, that double that number of Scots had landed in Connaught, and that Ormonde, on whom alone he could depend, had been sent for to England. But to Burghley he passionately poured out his griefs. ‘I pass over,’ he said, ‘usual matters, such as killing, burning, spoiling;’ though they pricked his conscience daily, and though he feared that God would demand the innocent blood at his hand. The English name was hateful, and he would rather die when Ireland was lost than live in England to bemoan it. He could but shake the scabbard, for he had no sword to draw, and yet military government was the only government possible for a ‘people so long nursled in sensual immunity.’ The great men ‘all, tooth and nail, whatsoever semblance they bear, do spur, kick, and practise against regular justice.’ The fear of Ormonde kept some quiet, but in his absence their enforced frowns at the rebels were changed to winking. For himself, he could bear all if the Queen would only give him credit for doing his best, instead of blaming him more and more for not doing what he had long since declared impossible. ‘A hard word of a prince,’ he said, ‘is a dart to a true subject – much more, a nipping, a checking, and a taunting.’[233 - Fitzwilliam to the Queen, July 24, Aug. 3, Sept. 25, 1572; to the Privy Council, Aug. 4; to Burghley, Sept. 25 and Oct. 21; the Queen to the Lord Deputy, Aug. 5.]
CHAPTER XXX.
1572 and 1573
The Ulster colonisation project
The absence of Sir Thomas Smith in France and the lukewarm attitude of the Lord Deputy delayed the Northern enterprise for some time, and when young Smith at last landed, the 800 of which the Queen spoke had dwindled to 100. He sailed from Liverpool on Friday, the sailors’ unlucky day, and reached Lough Strangford on the morrow. He sent to Sir Brian MacPhelim to say that he had no designs except on the spiritual lands – no designs ‘as yet’ he explained in writing to Burghley – but the chief would not see him, and roundly refused to part with one foot of ground. The adventurer hastened to the Lord Deputy, not to offer aid but to beg for it; but Fitzwilliam, who had not been consulted, gave him little comfort, telling the Queen that a singular ignorance had been shown of the jealous Irish nature, and that the chance of success had been immeasurably lessened by sounding the trumpet so loudly beforehand. Others besides Smith talked loosely of all they were going to do in Ulster; one Chatterton boasting that he had a grant of O’Hanlon’s country. Fitzwilliam bade him hold his foolish tongue; but he only talked the louder, and sent his brother to Newry to spread the mischief further, and to have eight or nine bullocks ostentatiously salted. ‘To have rumours spread,’ said the Deputy bitterly, ‘and a few beeves salted to mad men with, and to have no men come to tame madmen with, I must think, or at least doubt, to be some practice to disturb quiet government.’ Tirlogh Luineach O’Neill wrote in a covertly threatening tone to Fitzwilliam, professing not to believe that Smith had really her Majesty’s authority to take his namesake’s country, and advising him to let Sir Brian and Sorley Boy alone. Sir Brian emphasised this advice by invading the Ards, killing Henry Savage, burning the villages, and driving off all the cattle except what could be hurriedly conveyed across the Lough into Lecale. Fitzwilliam could only tell Sir Thomas Smith that he was sorry for his son’s evil prospects, but that soldiers were very scarce, and that, though his goodwill was great, in material resources he ‘had not enough to set out the main chance.’[234 - Thomas Smith, Junior, to Burghley, Sept. 10; Fitzwilliam to Mr. Secretary Smith, Oct. 21; to Burghley, Oct. 26; to the Queen, Sept. 25; Edward Maunsel to Fitzwilliam, June 11; Tirlogh Luineach O’Neill to Fitzwilliam, Oct. 10; Maltby to Fitzwilliam, Oct. 14. Young Smith landed Aug. 30, 1572.]
Collapse of Smith’s enterprise
Sir Thomas Smith perhaps hardly expected to get nothing but criticisms from the Lord Deputy. The reports complained of had been spread against his will, and he had no intention towards the Irish but to make them labour virtuously, ‘and to leave robbing and stealing and killing one another.’ He suggested that, as his son could evidently effect nothing for the present, Fitzwilliam should employ him in the Queen’s pay to defend the northern frontier of the Pale. As Fitzwilliam could not pay even the few men he had, this was hardly a practical suggestion. The O’Neills played fast and loose with the unfortunate young man. Sometimes a minor chief would make friendly advances, and then, having seen the nakedness of the land, would run off again, while Tirlogh Luineach and Sir Brian MacPhelim evidently understood each other. It was only just possible to defend Carrickfergus with the help of Captain Maltby, whose company had narrowly escaped discharge, and who generally lay in Lecale. From behind the walls of the fortress Smith railed continually at the Lord Deputy, whose gloomy vaticinations had all been fulfilled. In writing to the Queen and to Smith’s father, Fitzwilliam merely lamented that his power to help him was not equal to his will, but he told Burghley that he thought it very hard that his credit at Court should be undermined by the interest of a vain young man. Maintenance and not stomach was what the adventurer required, and he wished Burghley could see the letters he wrote to the Council. His impudent humour needed rather to be purged than fed. Maltby, a man of ability and discretion, fell to some extent under the influence of his sanguine comrade, and the two persuaded Fitzwilliam to give them command of the garrison at Newry, by way of operating against Sir Brian MacPhelim. They prophesied great things, but did nothing; and Fitzwilliam, who had yielded to their importunity for fear of Court slanders, cynically observed that he never supposed they would do anything. Sir Brian, on the contrary, burned Carrickfergus, and 100 men had to be sent in haste from Newry to protect the pier, the store-house, and what little remained of the town. The enterprise of the Smiths, from which so much had been expected and which had been so much advertised, had utterly collapsed in less than a year.[235 - Sir Thomas Smith to Fitzwilliam, Nov. 8, 1572; Thomas Smith, Junior, to Burghley, Nov. 21; Fitzwilliam to Burghley, Feb. 18, March 9, and May 20, 1573.]
Fitzmaurice submits. Perrott thinks he will be a second St. Paul
After his last overthrow by Sir Edmund Butler, Fitzmaurice no longer attempted to make head, but sued for pardon and leave to serve her Majesty in some other country, offering at the same time to disclose the chief instigators of his revolt. He had still eighty kerne with him, and found no difficulty in feeding his men either in Aherlow or in the wild district between Macroom and Glengariffe. Perrott, who wished to hunt out rather than pardon him, watched the ports so carefully as to frustrate many attempts at evasion. At least one important emissary fell into the Lord President’s hands in the person of Edmond O’Donnell, a Jesuit, who brought letters from Gregory XIII. to Fitzmaurice, and who was afterwards hanged, drawn, and quartered at Cork. The pursuit of the arch-rebel himself failed for want of provisions. The President was very much against the established system of governing ‘by intreaty,’ and his object was to make people fear him, ‘so that they be not kept in servile fear.’ The Queen sent letters of thanks to Lords Clancare, Barrymore, Fermoy, and Lixnaw, to Sir Thomas of Desmond, and to Sir Donough and Sir Cormac MacTeige MacCarthy; and in the end, fearing lest he should escape to Spain, Perrott thought it desirable to accept the submission of Fitzmaurice. He appeared accordingly at Kilmallock, the town which had suffered so much and so lately at his hands, accompanied by the seneschal of Imokilly and other chief rebels. The suppliants knelt on both knees, or, according to one account, even lay prostrate, and the President held the point of his naked sword at Fitzmaurice’s breast. ‘Holding their hands joined and cast upwards, and with countenances bewraying their great sorrow and fervent repentance for their former life,’ they confessed their sins in Irish. Fitzmaurice repeated the confession in English, owning himself the rankest traitor alive, and vowing to use his sword for ever after only in her Majesty’s service. As if to throw a shade of ridicule upon the whole thing, Fitzmaurice absurdly declared that he was allured by Clancare and Sir Edmund Butler. But Perrott was forced to be content, and had similar ceremonies performed in other towns, the inferior traitors wearing halters round their necks. Fitzmaurice gave up one of his sons as a hostage, but it was arranged that he himself should be set at liberty in case the Queen refused to accept his submission. She was glad to find an excuse for saving money in Munster, or anywhere else; and Perrott, with the strange inconsistency he sometimes showed, soon persuaded himself that Fitzmaurice had really seen the error of his ways, and would prove ‘a second St. Paul.’[236 - Perrott to Sir Thomas Smith, Jan. 28, 1572; to the Privy Council (with Fitzmaurice’s submission enclosed), March 3; to Burghley, April 12. Perrott’s Life, p. 73.]
Desmond and his brother in the Tower, and harshly treated, 1568
The Presidency had proved expensive, but Perrott could report that no armed bands were abroad, and that every corner of the province was safe for unarmed travellers. Gilbert had done nearly as much before, but it was clear that no permanent good could be done without sustained expenditure. The experiment of ruling the Southern Geraldines without the Earl of Desmond was accordingly abandoned for the time; and, in spite of the warnings of Perrott and Fitzwilliam, Elizabeth may really have thought that years of exile had tamed the Earl’s unruly spirit. He had indeed endured many humiliations. Arriving in London with his brother Sir John, about Christmas 1567, he was allowed to frequent the Court, in great want of money, but under no personal restraint. The brothers made humble submissions, surrendering their lands to the Queen and begging for the establishment of a President and Council in Munster; and the Earl gave a bond in 20,000l. to observe the articles to which he was bound. But his rash talk, and perhaps the letters which he was known to write, gave offence, and both he and Sir John were sent close prisoners to the Tower, where they were fain to beg 100l. for necessaries, including clothes and shoes. They suffered from cold, and Sir John, who became seriously ill, had not wherewithal to pay the doctor and apothecary: anything that they did cost was paid for by the Queen, nothing whatever being remitted from the Irish estates.[237 - Desmond to Cecil and to the Duke of Norfolk, Aug. 26, 1568; to the Privy Council, Nov. 1; to the Queen, July 17, 1569; Sir John of Desmond to Cecil, May 30, 1569; Note of 1,573l. 2s. 4d. issued out of the Exchequer for the diets of the Earl of Desmond and Sir John, May 4, 1569.]