Ireland under the Tudors, with a Succinct Account of the Earlier History. Vol. 2 (of 3)

by Richard Bagwell

FOOTNOTES:

[294] Fitzwilliam to the Privy Council, Nov. 17, with enclosures; Waterhouse to Walsingham, Nov. 18; Essex to the Privy Council, with an enclosure, Nov. 24; to Burghley, Dec. 3; Notes on Ireland, by Ormonde, enclosed in his letter to Burghley of Dec. 8; Four Masters, 1574.

[295] Fitzwilliam to Burghley, April 26, 1575; to the Privy Council, March 31; Essex to Burghley, March 31 and April 1; to the Queen, March 31; to Burghley and Sussex, April 28; to the Privy Council, April 15; the Queen to Essex and Fitzwilliam, March 15; the Privy Council to Fitzwilliam, March 14; Tirlogh Luineach O’Neill to Fitzwilliam, April 29; Devereux, Earls of Essex, i. 91 and 104.

[296] Instructions for Captain Maltby, April 8; the Queen to Essex, April 11.

[297] Essex to Walsingham, May 9; to the Privy Council, March 10.

[298] Maltby to Burghley, May 14; Essex to the Privy Council, June 1; the Queen to Essex and to Fitzwilliam, May 22; Instructions for Mr. Ashton, same date.

[299] Writing to Walsingham on Jan. 12, Waterhouse particularly asked that the adventure should not be abandoned without due notice to Essex. Essex to Walsingham and to the Privy Council, and instructions per Mr. Ashton, all June 1; to the Privy Council, July 5; Waterhouse to Walsingham and to Burghley, June 24; Sidney to the Privy Council, Nov. 16, in the Sidney Papers. Essex told Walsingham that his chief regret was that he should have been betrayed into speaking hardly of Fitzwilliam. This came from anxiety for the Queen’s service.

[300] Waterhouse to Walsingham, Jan. 12, 1575; Fitzwilliam to the Queen, June 14; Instructions by Mr. Ashton, June 25; Articles with Tirlogh Luineach, June 27; Essex to the Privy Council, July 5; Maltby to Walsingham, July 5.

[301] Fitton to Burghley, Jan. 5; Fitzwilliam to Burghley, Jan. 7 and March 13.

[302] John Symcott to Burghley, March 10, 1575; also Jan. 13 and May 14; Essex to Burghley, April 10; Fitton to Burghley, Jan. 18; Jenison to Burghley, Feb. 3.

[303] Sir P. Carew to Tremayne, Feb. 6, 1574; Fitzwilliam to Burghley, July 12; to the Privy Council, August 2. Miscellaneous information against the Earl of Kildare, Feb. 9, 10, and 11, 1575. Leicester to Burghley, Feb. 27; Fitzwilliam to Burghley, Sussex, and Leicester, May 15; Essex to Walsingham, May 9; Ormonde to Burghley, May 16; Fitton to Burghley, May 15 and 18. Short note by Burghley concerning the Earl of Kildare, Dec. 8.

[304] Instructions for Mr. Waterhouse by the Earl of Essex, Nov. 1573; Waterhouse to Sidney, Dec. 17, 1573, in the Sidney Papers; Fitzwilliam to Burghley, Aug. 3 and Sept. 4, 1575; Sidney’s patent is dated Aug. 5 in the latter year. In a letter printed in Lodge’s Portraits (Walter, Earl of Essex), dated Aug. 28, 1574, Essex tells Burghley that Sidney had been expected ‘these two months, but that the rumour had passed.’

[305] Fitton’s accounts to Sept. 30, 1575. The gross Irish revenue was scarce 11,000l. a year; see Auditor Jenyson’s statement in Carew, 1575 (No. 34). Instructions for Lord Deputy Sidney, Aug. 2. H. Sackford to Burghley, Aug. 12; Fitton to Burghley, Aug. 29 and Sept. 27; Sidney to the Queen, to Burghley, and to Walsingham, Sept. 28, and a letter of the same date to the Queen in the Sidney Papers.

[306] Essex to the Queen, July 22.

[307] Sidney’s Brief Relation, 1583, in Carew. Essex to the Queen, July 31; to Walsingham, same date. There is a tradition that one woman hid in a cave and escaped the massacre; Hill’s MacDonnells, p. 186. Captain Drake’s pay was 42s. a month. The Queen to Essex, Aug. 12, in Carew.

[308] F. Lany to Sidney, Sept. 16; Essex to the Queen, July 31; Sidney to the Privy Council, November 15, in the Sidney Papers; Ralph Bagenal to Burghley, Nov. 24.

[309] Sidney to the Privy Council, June 15, 1576, in Sidney Papers.

[310] Sidney to the Privy Council, Nov. 15, 1575, in the Sidney Papers; Ralph Bagenal to Burghley, Nov. 24.

[311] Sidney to the Privy Council, ut supra.

CHAPTER XXXIII.
ADMINISTRATION OF SIDNEY, 1575 TO 1577.

Sidney and the Butlers.

Fitzwilliam had always maintained that Ormonde’s presence was the best guarantee for the peace of the South of Ireland, and most of the Dublin officials were of the same opinion. But Sidney disliked him, both as too powerful for a subject and as a professed enemy of Leicester. All those who hoped for favour from the latter, and all those who favoured the Geraldine faction, were willing enough to take advantage of these rivalries and jealousies. Even Sir Barnaby Fitzpatrick, ‘which good knight was brought up to have known his duty better,’ but who had many causes of quarrel with his great neighbour, took advantage of the fact that every rebellious and disorderly person wreaked his fury upon Ormonde’s property, which was so much scattered as not to be easily protected. As between the Fitzpatricks and Butlers Fitzwilliam seems to have thought that there was not much to choose, and that both chiefs were loyal enough. But others spread reports against Sir Edmund Butler and his brother Piers, saying that they refused to go to the Deputy in spite of Ormonde’s promise that they should go when sent for. It seems that Piers went at once, and that Edward, who did good service as Sheriff of Tipperary, was never sent for; but some of the English Council, acting apparently under Leicester’s influence, obtained an order from the Queen that Edward should come in without any protection, which he immediately did. The letter, which gave great offence to Ormonde, was signed by Leicester, Knollys, Crofts, Smith, and Walsingham, but not by Burghley and Sussex, though they also were present at Kenilworth.[312]

Ormonde and his accusers.

There were some who did not spare Ormonde’s reputation any more than his property. In times of danger he always bore the brunt of the storm. ‘Who so happy,’ he said, ‘as the most wicked, who so unhappy as the best servant?’ When Kildare was arrested many whispered that as good a case might be made against Ormonde. He defied all detractors in the most uncompromising way: they were liars and slanderers, and he only wished he knew their names. ‘If the charges against Kildare,’ he said, ‘be treasons (as I hope they are not), I defy him and pronounce him a false villain that spake them, if he meant them for me. For as I never was traitor, no more was I friend of traitor, nor maintainer of traitors. If any can charge me (as some I know would if they could) let them say their worst: I defy them, and will answer to defend my honour in my short [shirt], or any way shall become a gentleman.’ He added that as he was no traitor so was he no procurer of murders, no receiver of stolen goods, no practiser to keep stores for private gain. On the contrary, he had subdued scoundrels of all sorts, persuaded ill subjects to reform, opposed Scottish enemies, spent his living in her Majesty’s service, ‘as my house has ever been, which some perhaps may envy.’ He was accused of seeking revenge against those that robbed him and burned his villages, and against those who harboured felons. ‘My lord,’ he pleaded, ‘when my neighbours be lawless, not coming to assizes or sessions, what amends may I have by justice, though by that means I seek mine own?’ He complained that his enemies at Court remembered him better than his friends; but he was all along secure in the Queen’s personal favour, even if his great services had proved a weak defence. She took care to tell him privately that she believed no stories against him, and commanded him to write often. ‘Yet one thing,’ she added, ‘you seem to have forgotten, and wherefore we have some cause to be displeased with you, as though of anything that you write to ourself any person living should be made privy but ourself alone.’ It is hard to guess what the matter was which Ormonde was afraid to trust to paper and which Elizabeth wished to be so profound a secret; but the passage quoted shows what very great favour he enjoyed.[313]

Death of Sir Peter Carew.

Sir Peter Carew, the original cause of the quarrel which had made the Butlers rebels for once, left the scene soon after Sidney’s return to Ireland. He was again preparing to prosecute his claims in Munster, and Hooker had been at Cork making overtures to chiefs living west of the city, many of whom promised to accept Carew as their landlord and to pay him rent. Three thousand cows, worth as many marks, were offered in discharge of all arrears. Desmond and others promised to make him welcome, houses were taken for him both at Cork and Kinsale, and arrangements were made for provisions; but Sir Peter fell ill and died unexpectedly at New Ross, his Munster projects dying with him. He left his Idrone property to his nephew and namesake, who was also continued in the government of Leighlin.

His character.

Sir Peter Carew was a good specimen of the Tudor adventurer: loyal, brave, chivalrous and generous to lavishness; with large ideas and great energy, but capable of actions which will not bear minute inspection. Sincerely religious, though no theologian, it was noted that he never broke bread or prepared himself for sleep without saying some prayer, and he gave substantial help to Protestants wherever he found them. ‘He had his imperfections,’ says his friend and biographer, ‘yet was he not known to be wrapt in the dissolute net of Venus, nor embrued with the cup of Bacchus; he was not carried with the blind covetousness of Plutus, nor yet subject to malice, envy, or any notorious crime.’ Without regular education he had picked up a thorough knowledge of French and Italian, had read a good deal in both languages, and had that intelligent love of architecture which was somewhat characteristic of the time. He had much of the many-sidedness distinguishing the Elizabethan era, and seldom seen in this age of specialists.

On his deathbed, though he suffered greatly, he was as steadfast as of old when he supported Sir John Cheke’s fainting spirit, ‘yielding himself wholly to the good will and pleasure of God, before whom he poured out continually his prayers, and in praying did gasp out his last breath, and yield up his spirit.’ Only a few months before his death the Queen praised his experience, wisdom, and courage; and when he was dead she granted the prayer of his many friends in carrying out the wishes of this ‘trusty and true Englishman.’ He was buried at Waterford with great pomp, and a stately cenotaph, raised by the piety of Hooker, commemorates him in Exeter Cathedral. When his corpse was being lowered into the grave, Sidney, who happened to be at Waterford, pronounced the following eulogium:—‘Here lieth now, in his last rest, a most worthy, and noble, gentle knight, whose faith to his prince was never yet stained, his truth to his country never spotted, and his valiantness in service never doubted—a better subject the prince never had.’[314]

Sidney’s tour.

It was not Sidney’s way to let the grass grow under his feet, and he had no sooner returned from Ulster than he started on another journey. Louth he found greatly impoverished by the constant passage of soldiers north and south, and the towns of Dundalk and Ardee were miserable enough. Drogheda had profited somewhat by Essex’s profuse expenditure. Bagenal’s settlement was strong enough to defend the north border of the Pale, except on the side of Ferney, which was granted to Essex, but where he had not yet done anything. Meath the Lord Deputy found ‘cursedly scorched on the outside’ by the O’Connors and O’Molloys, who were equally bad neighbours when in open rebellion and when under protection. O’Reilly, on the contrary, used the Pale well, and he himself was ‘the justest Irishman, and his the best ruled Irish country, by an Irishman, that is in all Ireland.’ Westmeath suffered much from anarchy and from Irish neighbours, but there was good hope of reformation through the activity and discretion of Lord Delvin. The O’Ferralls had consented to have Longford made a shire. They had taken estates of inheritance, and promised speedily to pay their quit-rents, which had been in arrears since Sidney’s last visit.

Miserable state of Leinster.

On the borders of Dublin and what is now Wicklow cattle-lifting went on merrily by night and day, under the superintendence of Feagh MacHugh O’Byrne, who was just rising into celebrity. Kildare was impoverished, more especially the Earl’s own property, by the incursion of the O’Mores, and old Henry Cowley ‘with tears in his eyes’ told the Lord Deputy that the Barony of Carbery was 3,000l. poorer than when they had last met. Carlow was more than half waste through outlaws of various kinds, ‘some living under Sir Edmund Butler,’ and it was to be feared that Sir Peter Carew’s place would be ill-supplied by his young kinsman. The side of Wexford which bordered on Carlow and Kilkenny was also in very evil case. Wicklow was quiet, with the exception of Feagh MacHugh, but Agard the seneschal was away in England, and his absence threatened to be dangerous. The Kavanaghs were tolerably quiet, ‘and though much in arrears of rent, yet pay it they will and shall.’

King’s and Queen’s Counties.

The settlement of the King’s and Queen’s Counties threatened to succumb to ‘the race and offspring of the old native inhabiters, which grow great and increase in number, and the English tenants decay and let their lands to Irish tenants.... 200 men, at the least, in the Prince’s pay lie there to defend them. The revenue of both countries countervails not the twentieth part of the charge; so that the purchase of that plot is and hath been very dear, yet now not to be given over in any wise.’ Sidney advised caution in undertaking any more enterprises of the kind. ‘Rory Oge O’More hath the possession and settling-place in the Queen’s County, whether the tenants will or no, as he occupieth what he listeth and wasteth what he will.’ Upper Ossory, under Sir Barnaby Fitzpatrick, now a Baron, was in good order, and needed only to be joined to some shire. O’Dunne’s country was in good case, ‘the lord of it a valiant and honest man after this country manner.’ Sidney made the Baron Lieutenant over both King’s and Queen’s Counties, and found every reason to be satisfied with the appointment.

Kilkenny and Waterford.

Kilkenny, ‘the sink and receptacle’ of stolen goods, was not found to have profited much by the continuance of coyne and livery, ‘which yet was done by order, and for the avoidance of a greater, or, at the least, a more present evil.’ Ormonde, though he had no love for Sidney, entertained him very handsomely, and gave his word to Rory Oge, who accordingly came in and solemnly in the cathedral submitted and promised amendment. The Earl was made Lieutenant of Tipperary and Kilkenny, and he then escorted Sidney to Waterford, where the citizens feasted him with shows and rejoicings both by land and water.[315]

Sidney in Munster.

From Waterford Sidney went to stay at Curraghmore with Lord Power, and found his country ‘comparable with the best ordered county in the English Pale: whereby a manifest and most certain proof may be conceived what benefit riseth both to the Prince, mesne lord, and inferior subject, by suppressing of coyne and livery.’ Lord Power’s neighbour, Sir James Fitzgerald, who had succeeded his brother Sir Maurice but without the title of Viscount Decies, ruled a district four times as large, with the result of making it so waste ‘as it is not able to find competent food for a mean family in good order; yet are there harboured and live more idle vagabonds than good cattle bred.’ The smaller country gentlemen, as well as the citizens who held mortgages, were anxious to live quietly and pay their taxes. Desmond himself came to Sidney at Dungarvan, and ‘very humbly offered any service that he was able to do to her Majesty.’ The town was half ruined by the late rebellion of James Fitzmaurice, but Henry Davells, the constable, was labouring with some success to restore it, and to punish malefactors. The people of Youghal pleaded that they had suffered too much by the rebellion to bear the cost of a viceregal reception, and Sidney passed by Castle Martyr to Barry’s Court, and thence to Cork. Kinsale, which the Deputy visited a little later, he found much decayed; the castle and pier both so ruinous that the townsmen were almost defenceless against both pirates and gales. But they were loyal and willing to help themselves, and Sidney gave them a small sum to spend in wages, on condition that they should supply everything else, and not rest till both castle and pier were again serviceable. He was much struck by the advantages of the Old Head for a fortified post.[316]

Cork. The nobles flock to Sidney.

The citizens of Cork received the Lord Deputy with manifestations of joy, and willingly allowed the troops quarters for six weeks. The soldiers paid half their wages for board, lodging, and fire, and this arrangement satisfied all parties. The Earls of Desmond, Thomond, and Clancare, the Archbishop of Cashel, the Bishops of Cork and Cloyne and of Ross, Viscounts Barry and Roche, and Lords Courcy, Lixnaw, Dunboyne, Power, and Barry Oge attended Sidney the whole time of his stay, as did also Lord Louth, ‘who only to do me honour came out of the English Pale to that city, and did great good among great ones; for being of this country birth, and of their language and well understanding their conditions and manners, did by example of himself, being but a mean man of lands in respect of their large patrimonies and living, both at home and abroad, live more commendably than they did or were able to do; which did much persuade them to leave their barbarity and to be ashamed of their wilful misery.’ MacCarthy Reagh and MacCarthy of Muskerry were also present, and made a good impression on Sidney. They seemed to him, both for their possessions and their law-abiding disposition, to be worthy of baronies at least. The latter especially, well known in Irish history as Sir Cormac MacTeigue, was, he thought ‘the rarest man that ever was born in the Irishry; of him I intend to write specially, for truly he is a special man.’ O’Mahon came from the shores of Dunmanus Bay and O’Donoghue from the Lakes of Killarney, and there was scarcely an important chief, whether English or Irish, who was not present; Sir John of Desmond and his brother James and Sir Thomas Roe being particularly assiduous in their attendance. ‘There came also many of the ruined relics of the ancient English inhabitants of this province, as the Arundels, Rochfords, Barretts, Flemings, Lombards, Tirries, and many others whose ancestors, as it may appear by monuments, as well in writing as of building, were able, and did live like gentlemen and knights; and now all in misery, either banished from their own or oppressed upon their own.’ As representatives of the Celtic order, to which that of the Anglo-Normans had given place, came five MacSwineys, captains of gallowglasses, originally from Donegal, but maintained by the Desmonds and others as condottieri. They had no lands, but were of as much power and consequence as any landowners, ‘the greatest being both in fear of them and glad of their friendship.’ Finally, Sidney records that most of the chiefs brought their wives, ‘who truly kept very honourable, at least very plentiful houses,’ and there were many widows of consideration, including some dowager countesses.[317]

James Fitzmaurice.

Sidney knew too much about Ireland to be sanguine, but he hoped that the Munster lords would consent to support 100 English foot and 50 English horse free of charge to the Queen. They generally professed themselves ready to do this from May 1, 1576, though the sincerity of one or two great ones was doubtful. But a cloud was gathering in the distance; James Fitzmaurice having fled to France early in 1575 with his wife and children and several companions, of whom the most important were the seneschal of Imokilly, a son of the Knight of Glin, and Edmund Fitzgibbon, eldest surviving son of the late White Knight, and claiming that dignity in spite of his father’s attainder. Fitzmaurice maintained that his object was to make interest abroad for the Queen’s pardon, and both he and the White Knight asked Ormonde to intercede for them. To Englishmen in France he said that he had been driven from Ireland by Desmond’s unkindness, who had refused to give him the means of living, and that he had been forced to bring his wife and children with him because he had no house of his own in Ireland. This tallies with the statements of the family historians, one of whom attributes Desmond’s conduct to the influence of his wife, who could not bear to see her only son deprived of any portion of his vast heritage. A ship of war followed the fugitives to France, and Captain Thornton gave an interesting account of their proceedings.[318]

Fitzmaurice lands in France, 1576,

Sailing from Glin in the Shannon, on board La Arganys of St. Malo, whose master, Michael Garrett, was no doubt a fellow-clansman, the Geraldine party landed at a village in Brittany. They brought 1,000l. worth of plate with them, and had, therefore, no difficulty in exchanging their Irish costume for French clothes. While the tailors were still at work they received visits from the chief townsmen of St. Malo, and when the transformation was complete, they all repaired to the town. The Governor and other principal people with their wives met them on the sands, and brought them to their lodgings at Captain Garrett’s house. Here Mrs. Fitzmaurice and her family remained, but Fitzmaurice with half-a-dozen companions went on to Nantes, and from thence to Paris. He received money and good words, and it was officially given out that his object was to gain a pardon from Queen Elizabeth through French intercession. Latin versions of letters purporting to be written by Henry III. to the Queen and to De la Motte Fénelon were shown in Ireland by Geraldine partisans.

where he is well received.

The report circulated at St. Malo was that Fitzmaurice came to seek help against Desmond; but Mrs. Fitzmaurice made no secret of her proclivities, for she refused an invitation to dine on board a Bordeaux vessel, ‘because Englishmen, her enemies, were to be there.’ Nor were the better informed ignorant that the whole enterprise was directed against England. A Devonshire merchant talked with a French officer who, in ignorance of his nationality, said that the King would have no peace with the wicked English, that St. Malo had furnished ships against Rochelle which would have been attacked long ago but for fear of the English naval power, and that a war with England was the one thing needful to unite all parties.[319]

His life at St. Malo.

After his visit to the French Court, Fitzmaurice returned again to St. Malo, and in the early days of 1576 Sidney thus reported concerning him:—

‘He keepeth a great port, himself and family well apparelled and full of money; he hath oft intelligence from Rome and out of Spain; not much relief from the French King, as I can perceive, yet oft visited by men of good countenance. This much I know of certain report, by special of mine own from St. Malo. The man, subtle, malicious, and hardy, a Papist in extremity, and well esteemed and of good credit among the people. If he come and be not wholly dealt withal at the first (as without an English commander I know he shall not), all the loose people of Munster will flock unto him: yea, the lords, though they would do their best, shall not be able to keep them from him. So if he come while I am in the North, he may do what he will with Kinsale, Cork, Youghal, Kilmallock, and haply Limerick too, before I shall be able to come to the rescue thereof.’

From St. Malo Fitzmaurice wrote to the General of the Jesuits for a confessor, offering to pay all his travelling expenses and to support him liberally. After a time he might, if it were thought desirable, be sent into Ireland as a missionary to the rude and unlearned people.[320]

Sidney at Limerick. Thomond. Connaught.

After his tour in Munster, Sidney proceeded from Limerick to take a like survey of Connaught and Thomond. He was attended by the Earl of Thomond and the other chiefs of the O’Briens, ‘of one surname, and so near kinsmen as they descend of one grandfather, and yet no one of them friend to another;’ the east and west Macnamaras, Macmahon, O’Loghlen, and many other gentlemen. Few as the people were, the Lord Deputy found the country too poor to feed them, ‘if they were not of a more spare diet than others are.’ He spent his first night comfortably enough in the dissolved friary at Quin, the beautiful ruins of which still remain, the second at Kilmacduagh, which is also interesting to the antiquarian, but which must have been a poor cathedral city at its best. Here Clanricarde met him, and he passed by Gort to Galway, whither all the principal men of Thomond repaired to him. He found that there had been no lack of murders, rapes, burnings, and sacrileges. So hard was the swearing that the injuries to property might be esteemed infinite in number, immeasurable in quantity, until the legal acumen of Sir Lucas Dillon reduced them within reasonable bounds. On examination it appeared that the greatest harm had arisen from the feud between Thomond and his cousin Teige MacMurrough, and they were required to enter into heavy recognizances. Sir Donnell O’Brien, the Earl’s brother, was made sheriff of the county of Clare, a shire of Sidney’s own creation. Connaught was now divided into four counties—Galway, Mayo, Roscommon, and Sligo. From Mayo came seven men to represent the seven septs of Clandonnells, the hereditary gallowglasses of North-West Connaught, and in effect the tyrants of the country. They agreed without difficulty to hold their lands of the Queen, and so did MacWilliam Eighter himself, who communicated with the Lord Deputy in Latin, and made a very favourable impression. MacWilliam agreed to pay 250 marks yearly, and to support 200 soldiers for two months in each year, and an English sheriff was established in Mayo at his request. Besides the various septs of Burkes, Sidney enumerates five great English families who had taken Celtic names, and who now followed MacWilliam’s lead; as did O’Malley, ‘an original Irishman, strong in gallies and seamen.’ The five chiefs of English race claimed to be Barons of Parliament, ‘and they had land enough, but so bare, barbarous barons are they now that they have not three hackneys to carry them and their train home.’[321]

Galway.

Galway itself was much decayed through the outrage of Clanricarde’s sons, and the townsmen so much disheartened as to be almost ready to abandon their post. Sidney’s presence revived them, and all men hastened to pay their respects; among them the Archbishop of Tuam, the Bishops of Clonfert and Kilmacduagh, and Birmingham, Baron of Athenry, ‘as poor a baron as liveth, and yet agreed on to be the ancientest baron in this land.’ O’Flaherty, O’Madden, O’Kelly, and other Celts also appeared, as well as the heads of several septs of Clanricarde Burkes, each with his appropriate Irish name. The Earl’s sons came into church on Sunday, surrendered at discretion, and were brought prisoners to Dublin.

Athenry. The Connaught clans. Sidney’s reflections,

After spending three weeks at Galway, during which the hangman was not idle, Sidney went to Athenry, which he found in ashes, the very church not being spared by the young Burkes, though the mother of one of them was buried there. To rebuild the town a tax, according to a principle not yet forgotten in Ireland, was assessed upon the country, and the work was immediately begun. The castles of Ballinasloe and Clare Galway were garrisoned for the Queen, and Sidney then went by Roscommon to Athlone. On his way he noted that Clanricarde’s vassals were well enough off, but that all else was ruinous. O’Connor Don, MacDermot, and others here paid their respects. From the newly made County of Longford the gentlemen came willingly enough to Roscommon and Athlone, and promised to clear off the 200 marks of revenue, which was four or five years in arrear. Part of the money was actually paid.

and proposals.

On his return to Dublin, Sidney insisted strongly upon the necessity of two Presidents. Sir William Denny was already named for Munster, and he proposed Essex or Sir Edward Montague for Connaught. English lawyers he must have, or no justice could be done. A standing army of 1,000 men he must have, or no peace could be kept. Two or three good officials—men like Tremayne—were much wanted if the revenue was to be increased. And then, above all, the Church must be reformed, ‘for so deformed and overthrown a Church there is not, I am sure, in any region where Christ is professed; and preposterous it seemeth to me to begin reformation of the politic part, and to neglect the religious.’[322]

Evil condition of the Irish Church.

The facts as to the religious state of Ireland were laid by Sidney before the Queen herself, and go far to explain the comparative failure of Anglicanism in Ireland. Hugh Brady, Bishop of Meath, a native of his diocese and a man of Irish race, though a sincere Protestant, had lately made a parochial visitation of his own diocese. Brady, who was the Lord Deputy’s companion during part of his Western journey, is described by him as honest, zealous, and godly; to such a man the state of the churches under his charge must have given the gravest anxiety. There were 224 parish churches, of which 105 were impropriated to manors or possessed by the holders of monasteries which had come into the hands of the Crown. In not one of these cases was there a resident parson or vicar, and of the ‘very simple and sorry curates’ usually appointed to do duty only eighteen could speak English, the rest being ‘Irish priests or rather Irish rogues, having very little Latin, less learning or civility.’ They gained a precarious living from the offertory, and in no single case was there a dwelling-house. Many of the churches were down altogether; the great majority without roofs. Fifty-two churches were ill served by vicars, and fifty-two more in the hands of private patrons were in somewhat better but still poor case. We are left to infer that only thirteen out of 224 parishes were in such a state as the Bishop could approve. Meath was the best peopled and richest diocese in Ireland, and Sidney, not to tire the Queen with too many details, left her to guess what the dry tree was like. ‘Your Majesty may believe that upon the face of the earth, where Christ is professed, there is not a church in so miserable a case.’ With ruinous churches, want of labourers for the vineyard, and want of means to pay them, Sidney had no difficulty in believing that the very sacrament of baptism had fallen into disuse.

Remedies proposed.

The remedies proposed were that the churches should be repaired out of the profits of the land, either by the Crown or by the tenants as equity might dictate, that Irish-speaking ministers should be sought at the universities or borrowed from the Regent of Scotland, and that some of the English bishops should be forced to visit Ireland, with their own eyes and at their own expense to see the spiritual nakedness of the land, and to prescribe a cure. ‘They be rich enough,’ he added, ‘and if either they be thankful to your Majesty for the immense bounty done to them, or zealous to increase the Christian flock, they will not refuse this honourable and religious travel; and I will undertake their guiding and guarding honourably and safely from place to place; the great desire that I have to have such from thence is for that I hope to find them not only grave in judgment, but void of affection.’[323]

Expenses of government.

After his return from Connaught, Sidney busied himself with the revenue and general administration. He did not conceal from himself that for every penny of rent she received it cost the Queen a shilling to hold her own. ‘Yet,’ he said, ‘I will never consent that the country should be abandoned in any sort, for held it shall be; but only hereby to note unto you by the way, what a dear purchase this is and hath been to the Crown; and, by the example of this, you may judge of the rest that are of this nature.’ Sir William Drury, the new President of Munster, and William Gerrard, the new Chancellor, were promised in April but did not come till Midsummer, and in the meantime ‘the southern like the dog, the northern like the hog, mentioned in the holy book, were ready to revolt to their innate and corrupt vilety.’[324]

O’Rourke, O’Donnell, O’Connor. Sligo. Sidney counts the heads of enemies.

O’Rourke, whom Sidney notes as the proudest man he ever saw in Ireland, came to Dublin and produced a patent of Henry VIII. which proved genuine. 20l. Irish was the rent reserved, but Sidney held out for 200l. sterling, and O’Rourke agreed to submit his cause to commissioners. O’Donnell also agreed to pay the 200 marks or 300 beeves which he had long since promised, asking only time for arrears. Sidney inquired into the very old dispute as to the tenure by which O’Connor held Sligo. O’Donnell said that 300 marks sterling had been paid to him and his ancestors since St. Patrick’s time. This was dismissed as fabulous, but a prescription of some generations was shown, while O’Connor convinced Sidney that the payment had never been made without violence, offering to give 100 marks a year to be quit of O’Donnell and to receive a sheriff peaceably, a ‘foreigner’ being preferred to an inhabitant of the country. Many other chiefs came to Dublin, and were ready to pay some yearly sum ‘all for justice; it is to be rejoiced that they so do, but more to be lamented that they have it not near to them.’ The Lord Deputy thought it very hard that he should have to do his own work and that of the President also; and, indeed, his post was no sinecure, for during the nine months that he had been in Ireland 400 men had been executed ‘by commission ordinary and extraordinary, and by slaughter in defence of the poor husbandmen.’[325]

Fresh troubles with Clanricarde’s sons.

The delay in appointing a President for Connaught, and the impossibility of the Viceroy being in two places at once, soon restored their courage to the Earl of Clanricarde’s sons. Such English officers as were in Connaught Fitton described as mean men, and as meek as mice to the Earl and his sons, and yet mean as they were too much for the young men. They suddenly crossed the Shannon, and cast off their English clothes with the remark, ‘Lie there for one year at least.’ The old Earl wrote to say that he would prevent them doing harm till he heard from the Deputy, to whom he scarcely offered any excuse. Writing to Ormonde and Lord Upper Ossory, he said that the 6,000l. which the rebuilding of Athenry would cost was too much for his country to bear, and that he himself could not raise 500l. The young men, paying but little attention to promises made in their names, destroyed the few houses which had been restored in the ill-fated town, killed or dispersed the labourers, burned the new gate, and sought for the stone with the royal arms, that they might break it, swearing that no such stone should stand in any wall there. Fearing for the safety of Galway, Sidney prepared to chastise the rebels in person.[326]

Sidney and Clanricarde.

The Lord Deputy only received the news on Tuesday, and on Friday he was at Athlone with a few officers; the bulk of his forces following as they could. Clanricarde came in on protection, which was granted unwillingly, and surrendered Loughreagh as a material guarantee. Kneeling at Sidney’s feet, the Earl besought pardon for himself and his sons, still maintaining that excessive taxation was the only cause of the rebellion. The Deputy sternly reminded him that the county had agreed to the rates imposed, and gave him leave to depart unscathed within three days. This was on Friday, and on the following Sunday Clanricarde came into the parish church and made submission on his knees, confessing the treason of his sons, and submitting himself and his cause to her Majesty’s pleasure. Sidney professed himself glad to gain an Earl and his castles instead of ‘two beggarly bastard boys,’ but tacitly admitted their power to annoy by pressing once more for a President. ‘Without a sufficient man in that office,’ he said, ‘I shall but trindle Sisyphus’ stone and bring it to the brim of the bank, and then forced to turn both head and hand, and so haply break either back or neck, but that is the least matter. In the meantime the Queen shall lose both honour and treasure, and her people lack both distribution of justice among them, surety of their lives, and saving of their goods.’[327]

Sir William Drury, President of Munster, 1576. Sidney in Connaught.

Having secured Galway and Athlone, Sidney went to Limerick, where he settled Sir William Drury in his presidency. Drury was a native of Suffolk, who had served England well by sea and land, at home and abroad. He had been Governor of Berwick, and had superintended the siege of Edinburgh Castle, where, in spite of Grange’s chivalry and Maitland’s guile, that last fortress of a falling cause had surrendered to Queen Elizabeth’s ally. He was now to try what skill and courage could effect in the service which had been, and was to be, fatal to the fortunes of so many eminent Englishmen. Meanwhile the young Burkes—the MacIarlas as they were called—held the open country with 2,000 Scots, besides their usual rabble. Captains Collier and Strange were besieged in Loughreagh, but Sidney thought the place practically impregnable by such a force, and prepared at his leisure to strike a well-aimed blow. Early in September he entered Connaught again, accompanied by Maltby, who had been appointed military Governor of the province, by a number of Ormonde’s men under the command of Edward Butler, and by his own son Philip, whose ‘sufficiency, honesty, virtue, and zeal’ made him remarkable even in his twenty-second year. Maltby and Butler chased John Burke and his rabble up and down the country, but could never come up with them. On Sidney drawing towards the borders of Mayo, the Scots, fearing to have their retreat cut off, fled precipitately into Ulster. All the English officers were agreed that the state of Connaught was owing to the lawlessness and ambition of the Earl and his sons—‘two cursed young men’—who would brook no superior. The people would gladly be rid of their tyranny, but had been taught by experience that great culprits generally escaped justice, and returned to plague those who had ventured to withstand them. No help, though much passive sympathy, could, therefore, be hoped for by viceroy or provincial governor.[328]

Proceeding of Drury.

Sir William Drury found plenty to do in his new government, though the county was free from any great disturbance. At Cork assizes forty-two persons were hanged, and one pressed to death; a chief of the MacSwiney gallowglasses, who had displayed a banner while driving cattle from under the walls of Cork, being among the sufferers. In derision the same banner was borne before the culprit to the place of execution. Nearly as many more were despatched at Limerick, the President’s object being to strike down the local ringleaders as much as possible. ‘They ride,’ he said, ‘all one horse, and the head of the salmon is worth a many small fishes.’ Like every other English governor, Drury complained of the number of idle men retained by territorial magnates. All he could do was to procure that registers should be kept, showing on whom each kerne or gallowglass was dependent, thus making the gentlemen responsible.[329]

Essex goes to England,

After the massacre of Rathlin, Essex determined to lead a private life. No place near Dublin was free from the prevailing infection, and he withdrew to Waterford to wait upon events.

He had half ruined himself and had failed entirely to do what he had proposed. ‘I have wasted no hour in Ireland,’ he told the Queen, ‘why should I wear out my youth in an obscure place without assurance of your good opinion, and should but increase the light of another man’s sun, and sit in the shadow myself?... I am no way carried with inconstancy, but loth to drown my service without certainty of friends and good opinion.’

where he offends the Queen,

but she soon relents.

In this temper he asked for leave to visit England. It was granted, and at the end of October 1575 he landed near his own house at Lanfey in Pembrokeshire. Even during the passage his ill-fortune pursued him. Vessels carrying his servants and baggage were dispersed by a storm, and the rough weather told upon his enfeebled frame. He was accompanied by Maltby, who was for the moment unemployed, and who thoroughly sympathised with him; but his health was so bad that Walsingham cautioned him not to travel too fast towards London. When he did arrive there he had still to complain of neglect, and of the expense to which he was put in dancing attendance on Queen and Ministers. Burghley found it necessary to ‘humiliate the style’ of the Earl’s letters before showing them to her Majesty, and he then wrote in a more submissive strain. It was this, probably, which elicited from the Queen one of those letters with which she well knew how to whistle back her disgusted servants. She congratulated him on his perfect conquest over his passions, which she attributed to the lessons of patience learned in the Irish service. ‘And though,’ she said, ‘you may think that it has been a dear conquest unto you in respect of the great care of mind, toil of body, and the intolerable charges you have sustained to the consumption of some good portion of your patrimony, yet if the great reputation you have gained be weighed in the balance of just value, or tried at the touchstone of true desert, it shall then appear that neither your mind’s care, your body’s toil, nor purse’s charge was unprofitably employed; for by the decay of those things that are subject to corruption and mortality you have, as it were, invested yourself with immortal renown, the true mark that every honourable mind ought to shoot at.... We think your demands made upon us were grounded both upon the respect of your own benefit and of our service, interpreting as we do the word benefit not to import that servile gain that base-minded men hunt after, but a desire to live in action and to make proof of your virtue; and being made of the metal you are, not unprofitably or rather reproachfully to fester in the delights of English Egypt, when the most part of those that are bred in that soil take great delight in holding their noses over the beef-pots.’[330]

Return and death of Essex.

In the end Essex received a grant of the barony of Farney in Monaghan, of the peninsula called Island Magee in Antrim, and of the office of Earl Marshal in Ireland for life. Having made his will and such other arrangements as were possible for the settlement of his estate, he returned to Ireland after an absence of about nine months. The leading of 300 men for which he had asked, and which Sidney recommended, would probably have been granted had not death cut his career short. He reached Dublin on July 23, 1576, and on August 30 was attacked by dysentery, which carried him off in three weeks.

His character.

In his lifetime Essex did many things which history must condemn, though he seems not in any way to have accused himself. On his deathbed he showed himself a hero, if patience under suffering and faith without worldly hope are to be considered heroic attributes. Two days before his death he wrote to Elizabeth, besought her forgiveness for any offence he might have given, and begged her to be a mother to his children. He reminded her that his son would be poor through his debts to the Crown, and that she would be no loser by remitting them, since the minor’s wardship would amount to as much or more. In another letter he recommended his son to the care of Burghley and Sussex, ‘to the end that he might frame himself to the example of my Lord of Sussex in all the actions of his life, tending either to the wars, or to the institution of a noble man, so he might also reverence your lordship for your wisdom and gravity, and lay up your counsels and advice in the treasury of his heart.’ He sent his love to Philip Sidney, ‘and wished him so well that if God do move both their hearts, I wish that he might match with my daughter. I call him son; he so wise, so virtuous, and godly; and if he go on in the course he hath begun, he will be as famous and worthy a gentleman as ever England bred.’ As regards Sidney he spoke prophetically, and it is but reasonable to suppose that had Penelope Devereux become his wife she would have been the glory instead of the scandal of her age. With almost his last words he sang a hymn which he had composed, and at the end ‘he strove to praise even when his voice could not be heard.’ When it failed altogether, Mr. Waterhouse—his faithful friend always—‘holding him by the hands, bade him give a sign if he understood the prayers, and at the name of Jesus he held up both his hands, and with that fell asleep in Christ as meekly as a lamb.’[331]

Leicester’s conduct to Essex.

The Jesuit Parsons accused Leicester of poisoning Essex, and he was probably not incapable of such a deed. The charge was made at the time, but Sidney’s contemporary account fully disposes of what he calls ‘a false and malicious brute,’ and the accusation was not made by any of those who were about the sick bed, nor was it believed by the dying man himself. But if Leicester is to be acquitted of poisoning the man whose widow he married, it is not so easy to clear him of having gained her affections clandestinely while using his political influence to keep her husband at a distance. In one letter Leicester hints that Essex does not expose his own person enough, and speaks somewhat slightingly of his abilities; nevertheless, he was angry with Sidney for not doing more to facilitate his return to Ireland. On the other hand, it would appear that Essex was on friendly terms with Leicester. What seems really clear is that Essex did not care much for his wife. His will contains no loving mention of her, and his last letter to the Queen speaks of the burden which dowries would lay upon his son’s inheritance. On his deathbed he spoke much of his daughters, lamenting the time which ‘is so frail and ungodly, considering the frailness of woman.’ While asking Elizabeth to be a mother to his son, he abstained from saying a word about that son’s natural mother. And it is evident that he cared little for his wife’s society; for after the failure of his great enterprise he was ready to live ‘altogether private in a corner of Ulster,’ rather than return home. The facts seem to exonerate Leicester from the charge of poisoning, but tally very well with the common report that he kept the Earl in Ireland while he made love to the Countess.[332]

Agitation against the cess.

The truth hard to discover.

The Queen continually upbraided Sidney with the expense of his government. He, on the contrary, maintained that there was no waste, and that the cost of supporting an army, without which government was impossible, grew greater every day. There had been a rise in prices unaccompanied by any increase in revenue, and the soldier found it hard to live without being burdensome to the country. The gentlemen of the Pale now took the high ground that no tax could be imposed except by Parliament or a Grand Council, though the cess was a customary payment, which in one form or another had been exacted since Henry IV.’s time. Sidney stood upon the prerogative, in this case strengthened by custom, ‘and not limited by Magna Charta, nor found in Littleton’s Tenures, nor written in the Book of Assizes, but registered in the remembrance of her Majesty’s Exchequer, and remaining in the Rolls of Records of the Tower, as her Majesty’s treasure.’ It was this Elizabethan way of looking at things that brought Charles I. to the scaffold, but in Sidney’s time no one thought such language strange. The theory that there should be no taxation without consent of Parliament was beginning to be advanced, but few were as yet so bold as openly to propose limits to the royal power. The efficiency of ill-paid soldiers is generally small, and many landlords said they could defend themselves better and more cheaply. The Lords of the Pale were usually called to the Council Board, and had ample opportunities of protesting against the cess. They admitted that it had been regularly imposed for thirty years for victualling the army, and more lately for the viceregal household. The old ‘Queen’s prices’ were not far from the real value, but they had crystallised into fixed rates, while the market had steadily risen, and was now about 150 per cent. higher. No doubt it was difficult to assess payments in kind. ‘The country,’ said Lord Chancellor Gerard, ‘set down notes falsifying the victuallers’ proportion. Because they varied in the weight of every beef and the number of loaves which every peck of corn would make, I played the butcher and baker on several market days, and weighed of the best, meanest, and worst sort of beeves, and also weighed the peck of corn and received the same by weight in loaves, containing the weight of 3 lbs. every loaf of bread; and found the same neither too weighty as the country set down, nor too light as the victuallers allege,’ &c.

The country, he said, paid a penny where the Queen paid a shilling. ‘The gentlemen,’ he adds significantly, ‘by their own confession, never lived so civilly and able in diet, clothing, and household, as at this day; marry! the poor churl never so beggarly.’[333]

The Pale sends counsel to London.

The Lords of the Pale, however, sent three lawyers to London to plead their cause, and in the meantime refused to commit themselves by arguing. The advocates selected were men of family, and thoroughly acquainted with their views, but not agreeable to Sidney. Barnaby Scurlock he allowed to be a man of credit and influence, but he had lately indulged in ‘undecent and undutiful speech;’ he had made a fortune as Attorney-General, but Sussex had dismissed him for negligence. Richard Netterville was a seditious, mutinous person, who sowed discord and promoted causes against the Government—in fact, an agitator ‘who had bred more unquiet and discontent among the people than any one man had done in Ireland these many years.’ As to Henry Burnell, Recorder of Dublin, whom Fitzwilliam had formerly described as one of the best spoken and most learned men in Ireland, but a perverse Papist, Sidney could only wish he would mind his practice at the Bar, which had made him rich, and not meddle with her Majesty’s prerogative. He was, he says, ‘the least unhonest of the three, and yet he trusted to see the English Government withdrawn.’[334]

Sidney’s criticisms.

Sidney’s high prerogative doctrines somewhat warped his mind. He condescended to say that Netterville was ‘son of a second and mean Justice of one of the benches;’ as if that could possibly prejudice his advocacy. He praised the Chancellor for acting as a partisan, though no doubt he was fair enough about prices. ‘He hath in public places both learnedly, discreetly, wisely, and stoutly dealt in the matter of cess, and rather like a counsellor at the bar than a judge on the bench.’ After all this is very doubtful praise, though Gerard was not acting in his judicial capacity.[335]

True bill against the cess.

Before their emissaries started for England, the gentlemen of the Pale procured a bill to be brought before a Meath grand jury, of which the first clause contains these words: ‘We find Sir Henry Sidney, Lord Deputy of her Majesty’s realm of Ireland, Sir Lucas Dillon, &c. (all the council), ... gave commission to Thomas Cusack of Gerardiston, sheriff of Meath, to charge ... cess ... corn, beef, butter, &c., and carts and carriages ... 1,800l. or thereabouts ... said sheriff has levied.... Sir Robert Tressilian, Chief Justice of England, was put to death for misconstruing the laws in Richard’s time.’ Further clauses indict the inferior ministers occupied about the cess. By advice of the presiding judge, the charge against the officers of State was erased, but the rest of the Bill was presented and justified, and Burnell said openly in the Court of Star Chamber that he would have carried the case through, but that it would have delayed his journey to England.[336]

Nature of the tax.

The details of the question at issue between Sidney and the Lords of the Pale are extremely obscure, and for a variety of reasons. Thus, when they complained that the exaction amounted to 9l. per ploughland, he offered to take 3l. 6s. 8d., but they refused, ostensibly from unwillingness to burden their heirs. One explanation is that the ploughland was a very uncertain measure, though generally reckoned at 120 Irish acres, and that the acreage had always been very much understated. It was feared that Sidney would measure the land more carefully and reduce the ploughlands to a uniform size, thus extracting much more money than might be supposed from his apparently liberal offer. Many lands had been exempted by favour or custom, and such exemptions tended to multiply; it was feared that Sidney might extinguish them. Grass lands had perhaps not been taxed at all, for Sidney only allowed 700 ploughlands in Meath, Westmeath, Kildare, and Dublin. The surface of those counties, without including Wicklow, contains nearly 11,000 ploughlands of 120 Irish acres each. On inquiry, Sidney found that the charge at existing prices came nearly to 8l. a ploughland, ‘for ease of which, by making the burden to be borne more universally, I by proclamation dissolved all freedoms that had not had their continuance time out of memory of man, whereof there were many, the most by a statute pretending thereby an increase of military men, which God knoweth, and I, are of little worth, ... the statute is expired.’ Many repined, but ‘it was proved that they had no real reason to do so.’[337]

Netterville and his colleagues admitted that 1s. per acre Irish, or 8d. sterling, was the rent of land ‘in most, or at least in many places,’ within the Pale. They allowed that a foot soldier could not live on 8d. a day, nor a horseman on 9d., and they said roundly that there was no way but to increase these sums, declaring, and we may well believe declaring truly, that the Queen already lost more by the jobbing consequent on insufficient pay than she could lose by giving the extra 1d. a day, which the soldiers asked for. That so small an increase would content them reasonably they inferred from the fact that it had often been accepted by them in lieu of cess. The Pale was willing to victual soldiers maintained for its defence, provided a fair price was paid for it, Netterville and his colleagues pledging themselves to use all their influence to obtain the Queen supplies if only she would seek them constitutionally from Parliament.[338]

On the arrival of the three Irish lawyers in London, Walsingham assured Sidney that nothing should be done to prejudice his authority. The Privy Council received the strangers coldly, and Leicester took occasion to ‘ruffle that seditious knave Netterville’ in a style which pleased his brother-in-law greatly. The contention that cess was altogether illegal did not recommend itself to the Queen or her Ministers. Kildare and Ormonde, Gormanston and Dunsany, were in London, and being called before the Council admitted that the cess was customary, and only begged that consideration might be showed to the Pale in time of scarcity. The triumvirate, as Waterhouse calls them, were accordingly committed close prisoners to the Fleet, and Sidney was gently cautioned to shear his sheep and not to flay them. He confessed, indeed, that he ‘held a straighter hand in the matter of cess, the rather to bring them to a certain rent for the release of the same.’ Netterville had seen this clearly enough, and therefore the Lord Deputy writes him down ‘as seditious a varlet and as great an impugner of English government as any Ireland beareth.’[339]

The chiefs of the Pale under arrest.

In all official letters from the Queen and the Privy Council much indignation was expressed at the idea of the royal prerogative being called in question. Sidney was instructed to deal sharply with the gentlemen who had deputed Netterville and his colleagues, and stiffly to assert the principle of the cess. Failing, after repeated arguments, to yield the point at issue until the result of their agents’ mission was known, and standing in the meantime on high constitutional ground, Lords Baltinglass, Delvin, Trimleston, and Howth, with many others of the best gentlemen in the Pale, were committed to the castle. This was strictly in accordance with the Queen’s orders, but in writing directly to Sidney she reprimanded him for choosing so bad a time to raise the question of the cess, and for drawing an inconvenient amount of public attention to undeniable grievances. At Court Philip Sidney accused Ormonde of thwarting his father, and contemptuously held his tongue when the Earl addressed him. Ormonde refused to quarrel, saying magnanimously that the young man was bound to take his father’s part, and that he was endowed with many virtues. Indeed, nothing could be said against Ormonde but that he was a general defender of the Irish cause, like all the rest of his countrymen at Court. He hated Leicester and did not like Sidney; but, as the latter himself expressed it, ‘love and loving offices’ are matters of favour, not of justice. How little sympathy there was between them may be judged from the passage in which the Lord Deputy defends himself against the Queen’s private strictures on his conduct. ‘I am condemned, I find,’ he writes to Leicester, ‘for lack of policy, in that in this broken time, and dread of foreign invasion, I should commit such personages as I detain in the castle.... While I am in office I ought to be credited as soon as another; and this is my opinion, if James Fitzmaurice were to land to-morrow, I had rather a good many of them now in the castle should still remain than be abroad.’[340]

Composition for cess.

The envoys, after tasting the hospitalities of the Tower, submitted humbly enough in form, but did not abandon their case, and the Queen, though she spoke boldly about prerogative, had evidently some sympathy with them. The prisoners in Dublin also submitted, and the Crown, having thus saved its credit, a composition was arrived at, which seems to have been substantially Burnell’s work, and to which Ormonde, Kildare, and Dunsany, who were in London, gave a preliminary adhesion. The counties of Dublin, Meath, Westmeath, Louth, Kildare, Carlow, Wexford, and Kilkenny acknowledged themselves bound to victual as many of the 1,000 soldiers and officers as the Lord Deputy should appoint, and to pay 1d. a day for each man of that number whether present or no, deducting that sum in the case of those men whom they were required to victual fully. They were to furnish 9,000 pecks of oats to the horsemen at 10d. sterling, and to sell fresh provisions to the Lord Deputy at reasonable prices for ready money. The Queen consented thoroughly to repair the old store-houses, but not to build new ones, and no other charge of any kind was to be made against her, except for damage by sea or fire; but she promised that purveyors should be punished if they abused their power. To this arrangement the cess-payers submitted with a tolerable grace, but officials complained that the Queen had made a very bad bargain.[341]