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

by Richard Bagwell

FOOTNOTES:

[107] Birch’s Memoirs, i. 27; Ormonde to Burghley, Jan. 26, 1584; Lords Justices to Ormonde, Dec. 31, 1583.

[108] Second examination of Christopher Barnewall, Aug. 12, 1583.

[109] The text is taken from the official correspondence, Lords Justices to Robert Beale, Oct. 8, 1583; to Walsingham, Oct. 20, Dec. 10, March 7 and 8, 1584, April 14, and July 9; Walsingham to the Lords Justices, April 28, 1584. It appears from the Catholic accounts that combustibles were poured into the boots. That of the Jesuit Holing, who died in 1599, may be taken as contemporary; it is printed in Spicilegium Ossoriense, i. 87. ‘Tormenta nova illi parantur; nam ejus pedibus atroces hæreticorum ministri ocreas, butiro, oleo, et sale oppletas, ac—quod longe crudelius fuit—crudo ex corio conditas subjecerunt; postea, vero, catenis simul et compedibus alligatum, aperto in loco, nempe in medio castri—ubi spectaculum mundo, hominibus, et angelis—ubi ab omnibus videri potuit, lento igne apposuerunt, illicque detinuerunt, donec ipso corio consumpto, butiro, oleo, et sale ferventibus, ossa non cute pro carne tecta verum etiam omnino munda fuerint relicta.... Postea in ergastulum et obscurissimum carcerem reducitur, et post sex menses tanquam traditor et reus criminis læsæ majestatis, ab iniquo judice ad mortem condemnatus est. Ad extremum, post inaudita tormenta et carceris molestias, albescente cælo, ne forte tumultus fieret in populo qui ejus exemplo, doctrina, et constantia permotus ad ejus defensionem perveniret, ignorantibus civibus patibulo suspensus martyrium consummavit Dublinii circa annum 1585, mense Maio.’ Other accounts, which agree in essentials, are collected in Brady’s Episcopal Succession, ii. 11, 599. The Valicellian MS. there quoted, says a withen rope was used to protract his agony; but Bacon tells us that this kind of halter was generally used in Ireland, and that a rebel objected to any other.

[110] Ormonde to the Privy Council and to Burghley, Jan. 11, 1584, with enclosures; Wallop to Walsingham, Jan. 21.

[111] John Browne to Hatton and Walsingham, Nov. 19, 1583; Clanricarde to the Privy Council, Jan. 31, 1584; Lords Justices to the Privy Council, March 28, 1584; Wallop to Leicester, Jan. 26, 1581, in Wright’s Elizabeth. The Four Masters bear out Browne’s statement as to John Burke’s popularity; see also a damaged paper calendared under Nov. 1583 (No. 99). The Earl’s pardon passed the Irish Council, June 28, 1584. Lady Mary married O’Rourke. ‘That honest woman,’ Bingham wrote some years later, ‘is deceased in childbirth’ (to Gardiner, June 10, 1589).

[112] Lords Justices to the Privy Council, Sept. 12, 1583. Fenton to Leicester and Warwick, Sept. 13, in Carew; Hooker. This is one of the last, if not the very last trial by combat in the British Islands. Lord Reay’s case, in 1631, is in Howell’s State Trials, vol. iii., with a minute account of the ridiculous ceremonies proper to such a mode of trial; but in that case the fight did not actually take place.

[113] Reasons of Brian MacGilpatrick O’Connor &c. (translated out of Irish), Oct. 15, 1583. The brothers seem to have subsided, or as some would say risen, into farmers.

[114] The memorial of the Privy Council and the Queen’s instructions are both printed in Desiderata Curiosa Hibernica; see also Perrott’s Life, and Ormonde to Burghley, March 13, 1584. Perrott landed at Dalkey, June 9, and was sworn in by Loftus in St. Patrick’s on the 21st.

[115] Ormonde to Burghley, March 13, 1584 (from Carrick); docquet of letter, April 4; Ormonde to Burghley, May 19 (from Abermorles); June 4, (from Carew).

[116] Order for a hosting, June 22, 1584; Wallop to Walsingham, July 9; Fenton to Walsingham, July 10.

[117] Henry Sheffield to Burghley, July 12, 1584; Memorial for Mr. Edward Norris, Aug. 6; Bingham to Burghley, Aug. 7.

[118] William Johnes to Walsingham, July 14, 1584.

[119] Perrott’s Memorial for Mr. Edward Norris, Aug. 6, 1584.

[120] Wallop to Burghley, Sept. 17, 1584; to Walsingham, Oct. 14 and Dec. 4; Sir V. Browne to Burghley and Walsingham, Oct. 18; to Walsingham, Dec. 11; Waterhouse to Walsingham, Nov. 28; Lord Thomond to Burghley, July 14, 1585; Vice-President Norris to Perrott, Dec. 30, 1585.

[121] Fenton to Burghley, Aug. 19, 1584; Perrott to the Privy Council, Aug. 21; Bingham to Walsingham, Aug. 30; John Norris to Burghley, Oct. 16.

[122] Walsingham to Hunsdon, Aug. 24, 1584, in Wright’s Elizabeth; Privy Council to Perrott, Aug. 31; Perrott to Privy Council, Sept. 15.

[123] Perrott to Privy Council, Sept. 15 and 17.

[124] Norris to Burghley, Oct. 16, 1584. The various agreements are in Carew, from Sept. 18 to Oct. 7. Perrott returned to Dublin within a few days of the latter date. On the 20th he sent Walsingham ‘Holy Columkill’s cross, a god of great veneration with Sorley Boy and all Ulster.... When you have made some sacrifice to him, according to the disposition you bear to idolatry, you may, if you please, bestow him upon my good Lady Walsingham or my Lady Sidney, to wear as a jewel of weight and bigness, and not of price and goodness, upon some solemn feast or triumph day at the Court.’

[125] Norris to Burghley, Oct. 16, 1584. See also (in Russell and Prendergast’s Calendar) Sir John Davies to Salisbury, July 1, 1607, and Aug. 5, 1608, and the second conference about the Plantation, Jan. 12, 1610; and J. C. Beresford’s report in the Concise View of the Irish Society, p. ccxxii. In the Irish Archæological Journal, vol. i. p. 477, Ormonde’s contemporary panegyrist, who is an unconscious satirist, says:

Twice he set Glenconkein on fire,
This wealthy and tender-hearted chieftain;
He left no herds around Lough Neagh,
This seer so provident and bountiful.

According to O’Donovan (Four Masters, 1526) Glenconkein originally composed the parishes of Ballinascreen, Desertmartin, and Kilcronaghan.

[126] Sir J. Cusack to Cecil, Feb. 2, 1564; Memorial for Perrott in Desiderata Curiosa Hibernica; Fenton to Burghley, Jan. 31, 1584; Petition to the Judges, Feb. 16; Perrott to Walsingham, Aug. 21; and to Burghley, Oct. 22.

[127] Loftus to Walsingham, Oct. 4, 1584; and March 21, 1585; to Burghley, March 18, 1585; Petition of the prebendaries (with enclosures), Dec. 1584. See also Ware’s Bishops, arts. ‘Jones’ and ‘Loftus,’ and Cotton’s Fasti. Writing to Burghley, Jan 10, 1585, Loftus says the only great abuse was the non-residence of prebendaries, some of them by her Majesty’s express command, and he proposes to remedy this by calling on them to reside, or resign. Bancroft was one of these privileged absentees. For Swift’s remark see Monck Mason’s Hist. of St. Patrick’s, book ii. chap. iii. sec. 8, where another disgraceful lease made by Jones is also mentioned. Loftus was an accomplice in this later case.

[128] Burghley to Perrott, Nov. 6, 1584; Loftus to Burghley, June 7 and 11, 1585. Writing to Burghley on the previous 10th of Jan., Loftus says Fenton had dealt earnestly for the overthrow of St. Patrick’s. ‘After all,’ says Monck Mason, ‘the opposition made by Loftus must be considered as quite reasonable. Had the scheme taken effect there would scarcely have remained a single benefice in the gift of the Archbishop; the Crown presented to all the dignities in the other cathedral, and the Chapter to all the prebends.’—Hist. of St. Patrick’s, book i. ch. 14.

[129] Stanley to Walsingham, Sept. 17, 1584; Norris to Burghley, Nov. 20; Sir N. White to Perrott, Sept. 16; Bingham to Walsingham, Nov. 24 and Dec. 21; and to Burghley, Dec. 24; Perrott to Burghley, Dec. 4.

[130] Perrott to the Privy Council, Oct. 25, 1584; to Walsingham (enclosing that to the High Court of Parliament), Jan. 17, 1585; to the Queen, April 1; Walsingham to Perrott, Feb. 1; the Queen to Perrott, April 14. Perrott’s proposed towns were Athlone, Coleraine, Sligo, Mayo, Dingle, Lifford, and Newry; bridges at Coleraine, Lifford, Ballyshannon, Dundalk, the Munster Black Water, the Feale, and Kells in Clandeboye; castles at Ballyshannon, Meelick, Castle Martin in the Route, at Gallen in King’s County, Kilcommon in Wicklow, and on both the Blackwaters.

[CHAPTER XLI.]

GOVERNMENT OF PERROTT, 1585-1588.

The Scots invade Ulster in force.

Colin Campbell, 6th Earl of Argyle, died in September, 1584, leaving his eldest son a minor, and this event added to the confusion generally prevalent in the Western Isles. Sorley Boy, as usual, contrived to take advantage of the situation, and persuaded an assembly of chiefs who met in the island of Bute to support his Irish claims. 1,300 Scots, under Angus MacDonnell, landed on Rathlin, a much greater number being ready to follow, and Sir Henry Bagenal hastily moved from Carrickfergus to meet them. The ships which should have co-operated failed to appear, and the Scots attacked him in his camp at Red Bay. In spite of the late negotiations Donnell Gorme was in command, and it is evident that the islanders were not really worsted, though the English officers put a good face on the matter. Sir William Stanley was hastily summoned from Munster to take charge of Coleraine, and Norris was also sent for. Stanley accompanied Bagenal as far as Glenarm, and then marched inland to Ballycastle. The Scots had threatened to burn Ballycastle, but a skirmish with Bagenal proved that they could not do this, and they then withdrew in a northerly direction.[131]

They are driven away.

Stanley arrived at Ballycastle on New Year’s day, with two companies of foot, and joined Captain Carleile, whose troop of horse were already quartered in Bunamargey Abbey. Captain Bowen’s company held the fort of Dunanynie on a hill to the westward. At eleven o’clock that night the Scots made a sudden attack, set fire to the thatched roof of the church with brands fixed to the points of their spears, and fell upon the infantry encamped outside. Stanley rushed out in his shirt and succeeded in rallying the men, but many were hurt by arrows. He himself received one in the back, another pinned his arm to his side, and a third penetrated his thigh. Some horses were burned in the church, and none could be got out in time to pursue the Scots, whose enterprise failed in the main. But a fleet of galleys from Cantire passed in full view, and a very unusual calm prevented the Queen’s ships from following. Stanley sent for reinforcements, and Perrott laid all blame on the English Government for not sending the 600 men he had asked for. But the real difficulty was to feed the garrisons already established. There was no good harbour. Ballycastle Bay is rocky, and everything had to be landed upon rafts. Some provision vessels were driven back to Holyhead; others in great danger rode out the gales off Carrickfergus and Coleraine, ‘where the sea raiseth such a billow as can hardly be endured by the greatest ships. And scarce once in fourteen days those winter seas will suffer any small vessel to lay the ships aboard to unlade the victuals.’ Money, as usual, was wanting, and the supply service was none of the best. The captains were charged 42s. for corslets, which might be bought of better quality in any London shop for 25s. or less. Useless articles were sent, and whoever else might be to blame, Perrott was quite sure that the Master of the Ordnance in Ireland deserved hanging.[132]

Sorley Boy offers to become a good subject.

Sorley Boy found that the garrisons, notwithstanding all difficulties, were likely to become permanent in Ulster. He was growing old, there had been attempts to dispose of him by foul means, and on the whole he thought it would be better to make terms for himself. He therefore sought an interview with Captain Carleile, and professed willingness to live and die a faithful subject of Queen Elizabeth, on condition of being acknowledged as owner of at least a large part of the Bissett estate. He only asked, he said, for such terms as Sidney had been willing to grant some ten years before. But Perrott preferred strong measures. At first he wished to go himself, but the Council dissuaded him, and he even allowed Norris to return to his province. The Lord President was very angry at being brought to Dublin merely to suit the Council’s humour, and at having to spend 300l. in bringing up 40 horse and keeping them serviceable. Perrott, he said, had never really meant him to go to Ulster. Such honours as might be had there he wanted for himself, but he liked economising at other folks’ expense. The officers stationed in the North proved sufficient, and hunted Sorley from place to place till he was glad to escape to Scotland. Before April 26, no important Scot was left in Ulster, and Perrott was at leisure to meet his Parliament on that day.[133]

Perrott’s Parliament—the House of Lords.

A list of this Parliament has been preserved, and it is interesting to compare its composition with that held by Sussex in 1560. The spiritual peers summoned were twenty-six in place of twenty, but in both cases it is doubtful how far the more distant bishops attended. The temporal peers had increased from twenty-three to twenty-six, but the earldom of Tyrone and the barony of Dungannon were both centred in the person of Hugh O’Neill, who petitioned the House for the higher title conferred by patent on his grandfather, and whose claim was allowed.[134]

The House of Commons—counties; cities and boroughs.

Twenty-seven counties are mentioned instead of twenty on the former occasion, Connaught being now divided into Galway, Mayo, Roscommon, and Sligo. Cavan, represented by two O’Reillys, and Longford represented by two O’Ferralls, appear for the first time as shires, and so do Longford and Wicklow. Wexford and Ferns are given as separate counties, and Tipperary, reverting to ancient custom, is divided into the County and the Cross. Ards disappears as a separate county. All the shires named appear to have made returns. Thirty-six cities and boroughs are enumerated instead of twenty-nine, only Carrickfergus and Downpatrick neglecting to make returns. Athy is omitted, and Cashel, Inistioge, Dingle, Callan, Philipstown, Maryborough, Swords, and Downpatrick are added. For some unexplained reason the counties of Cork and Sligo returned three knights each.[135]

Representation of the Irish race.

Irish chiefs in Dublin.

Besides the O’Reillys and O’Ferralls the house of Commons contained but few of the native race. An O’Brien and a Clancy sat for Clare. Sir Hugh Magennis divided Down with Sir Nicholas Bagenal, and Shane MacBrian O’Neill was returned, but did not attend, as Captain Barkley’s colleague for Antrim. Among the burgesses we find a Shee or O’Shea sitting for Kilkenny, a Gwire or Maguire for Trim, a Kearney for Cashel, a Hurley for Kilmallock, a Casey for Mullingar, and a Neill or O’Neill for Carlingford. John Ffrehan, who was returned for Philipstown, was most likely a Celt also. The bulk of the members were of old Anglo-Irish race, with a good sprinkling of more modern settlers, of officials, and of military officers. John and Thomas Norris sat for the counties of Cork and Limerick respectively, Sir Warham St. Leger for Queen’s County, Sir Richard Bingham for Roscommon, and Sir Henry Harrington for Wicklow. Nearly all the chieftains of Ireland, though not actually members of Parliament, obeyed the Lord Deputy’s summons, and he strictly insisted on English costume being worn. ‘Please your lordship,’ said old Tirlogh Luineach, ‘let my priest attend me in Irish apparel, and then they will wonder at him as they do now at me; so shall I pass more quickly and unpointed at.’[136]

Parliamentary procedure.

The Speaker.

Rules were laid down for the conduct of business in the House of Commons. Members were not to wear arms in the House, they were to speak standing and uncovered, and only once on each reading of a Bill. Freedom of speech was granted, and freedom from arrest for members, their servants, and their goods. On the other hand no member was to disclose ‘the secrets either spoken or done in the House’ to any stranger, under such penalties as the Speaker, with the assent of the House, should think proper to inflict. One rule may seem strange to the present age, in which parliamentary debate has come to be so largely a matter of flouts and gibes and sneers. Every member was enjoined ‘to frame his speech after a quiet and courteous manner, without any taunts or words tending to the reproach of any person in the said House assembled.’ The first struggle was about the election of a Speaker. Nicholas Walshe, Chief Justice of Munster and member for the city of Waterford, was put forward by Perrott. Ormonde had a very good opinion of him, and Perrott, when President of Munster, must have learned his value. The opposition, though strong, was fruitless, and Walshe was duly chosen Speaker.[137]

The Parliament is hard to manage.

A prorogation.

Perrott had not been easily induced to abandon his scheme for the dissolution of St. Patrick’s. He continued to attack Loftus, but nevertheless gave him the chief control over the drafting of Bills; and the Chancellor was accused of purposely drawing them so as to arouse opposition. By Poyning’s law, and the Acts explaining it, these Bills had to be sent to England and returned after passing the Privy Council. If disapproved in this form, they could not be amended without sending them to England again. Travelling was tedious, Parliaments were short, and thus there was a risk that all legislation would be stopped. One Bill was for extending to Ireland all the English laws against Popish recusants, and this was certain to arouse the fiercest animosity. Another contained provisions derogatory to the privileges of the peerage. Desmond’s Bill of Attainder as amended contained eight names instead of twenty times that number, and made so many reservations that it would have been almost useless to the Crown. Nearly all the other Bills went too far or not far enough, but the difficulty might have been avoided by suspending Poyning’s Act, as had been done in 1537 and 1569. The landowners and lawyers of the Pale said that they feared to make the Viceroy despotic, but Perrott said that they dreaded all legislation favourable to the Crown. The bill only passed the Lords by one vote, of which the validity was disputed, Lord Lixnaw having given his proxy first to Lord Slane, who opposed, and afterwards to Lord Dunboyne, who supported the bill. The Chancellor took it privately from Dunboyne, and counted the absent peer among the ‘contents.’ Upon this or some other pretext the Commons threw the Bill out on the third reading by a majority of thirty-five. Perrott looked upon this check as a disgrace to himself and a hindrance to the Queen, and prorogued Parliament for a few days. This enabled him to bring the Bill in again, but it was lost by a reduced majority, although Ormonde’s friends, who had at first opposed, now voted with the ‘ayes.’ Partly by his rudeness, and partly by his determination to prevent jobs, the Lord Deputy had made many enemies, and six Englishmen turned the scale against the Bill. ‘And thus,’ said Perrott, ‘they have not only overthrown the repeal of Poyning’s Act, that should have set them at liberty to treat of that and all other things necessary for this State, but also dashed most of the statutes that were penned in Ireland and sent back confirmed from England, as, namely, that for the safety of the Queen.’[138]

Agitators.

The chief opposition to Perrott’s measures came from the Pale, and among the leaders were Sidney’s old antagonists Richard Netterville and Henry Burnell. ‘These popular fellows,’ said Perrott, ‘or good countrymen, as they would be gloriously termed, have been ever of this humour against all governors, and some of them, namely Netterville and Burnell, have been in the Tower of London for causes of far less moment than this is.’

A fair system of taxation rejected.

One great cause of opposition was a Bill proposing to equalise ploughlands, and to impose a tax of 13s. 4d. in lieu of cess on each ploughland throughout the whole country. The Pale had hitherto paid when Irish countries were not charged, and the native chiefs were now willing to come to an arrangement. But even in the counties which had always contributed there were many permanent exemptions, and still more fraudulent evasions. A new survey had thus many terrors, and, as is so often the case, threatened interests were more powerful than arguments founded on considerations of public policy. The Pale offered a lump sum of 1,200l. in lieu of all cess; but this was far less than had always been paid, and Perrott indignantly refused it. The chance of making the whole country voluntarily contribute to the expenses of government was thus unhappily lost. The Irish chiefs, who had come prepared to agree with the Lord Deputy, now left Dublin in far worse humour than they had reached it, and the plan of making them English subjects was indefinitely postponed. Religion was at the bottom of the whole difficulty, and one of the Pale patriots said, in open Parliament, that ‘things did prosper in Henry V.’s and former kings’ times when the mass was up.’ Perrott was willing and anxious to punish his parliamentary opponents, but required orders from home first, ‘because these kind of people by the mild dealing of England have ever found more favour there than hath been for the good of this State.’[139]

Small results of the session.

A stranger in the gallery.

Parliament was a second time prorogued on May 25, and it did not meet again for eleven months. The only legislative results of the first session—or, more properly speaking, of the first two sessions—were an Act for the attainder of Baltinglas and his brothers, and an Act for the restoration in blood of Laurence, the son of the old Geraldine rebel James Delahide. A German nobleman who was in Dublin during the session is said to have been much struck by Perrott’s stately appearance at the opening of Parliament. He had, he said, travelled through Germany, Italy, France, and England, but had never seen anyone so majestic, and he asked for his portrait to carry home with him. And this presence, coupled with substantial fair-dealing, no doubt made Perrott popular with the masses and with the Irish chiefs. With officials and members of council it was different, for they felt the weight of his hand. Had he been as courteous as he was anxious for the Queen’s service, his fate might have been very different. A reformer can never hope to be really liked by those who desire the maintenance of abuses; but a soft hand is no less necessary than a stout heart.[140]

Eloquence of Sir John Norris.

The oratorical honours of the session were carried off by John Norris. Fenton said he would deserve the Queen’s special thanks had he done her no other service, and Loftus, himself a great preacher, pronounced him to be the best speaker in the House, both for force of reasoning and eloquence of delivery. But Norris himself had no wish ‘to be drowned in this forgetful corner,’ as he called Ireland, almost in the very words of a still more remarkable man nearly a century and a half later. He longed to be again in the Netherlands, and thought that he could save Antwerp with 20,000l. Once lost, it would never be regained. Had his advice been taken, Ghent and Bruges might have been retained; but the Walloon provinces were now past hope, and the Dutch would have to yield unless they received foreign help. His prayer was heard, and a commission to his brother Thomas to execute the office of Lord President in his absence was signed on the day before the Irish Parliament met. Immediately after the prorogation he left Dublin, and was in Flanders a few weeks later.[141]

Ulster again invaded by Scots,

who surprise Dunluce,

to Perrott’s great disgust.

Norris was gone, and Stanley had returned to Munster, when the Scots again invaded Antrim in some force. 170 English soldiers encountered 1,200 Scots and Irish, near Carrickfergus, and Perrott again moved to Ulster. He approved and confirmed a deed by which Tirlogh Luineach handed over the southern half of Tyrone to the newly-acknowledged Earl, reserving the northern half to himself, with such tribute as he might be able to collect from Maguire and O’Cahan. Wallop and Loftus, who were left in charge of the Pale, saw it was quite impossible for the Lord Deputy to keep the Scots at bay without garrisons and fortresses more permanent than the Queen was inclined to pay for. Perrott was really of the same opinion, but he persevered in the hopeless task. There were, he said, more than 2,000 Scots in Ulster, combined to set up Shane O’Neill’s sons. Journeys to the North had always been allowed, and he could not see why he, of all Deputies, was to be kept in enforced idleness. He did, however, return to Dublin after a short absence, for the orders to save money were peremptory. The army was almost literally naked, and many soldiers for sheer want took service with the Irish. The natural result was not long delayed. Perrott had returned to Dublin early in September, and on the 1st of November, Dunluce—about the capture of which so much fuss had been made—was once more in the hands of the Scots. Peter Cary, the constable, a man of English blood and Ulster birth, had but fourteen soldiers, of which several were Irish; and, what was perhaps more important, he had a Scotch mistress. Ropes, which are said to have been made of withes, were let down at night by two of the Irish warders, and fifty Scots climbed over the battlements. Cary, whose orders not to keep Irishmen in the fort were strict, refused quarter, and he and his English soldiers were killed after a desperate resistance. ‘I do not,’ said Perrott, ‘weigh the loss, but can hardly endure the discredit. As things are purposed now any man is fitter for the place than I am.’ James VI. had promised Perrott to punish his subjects as rebels should they again invade Ireland; but he had not the power, nor perhaps the will, to keep his promise. Queen Elizabeth’s thoughts were now concentrated on foreign politics, and economy was her one object in Ireland. It was even proposed to disband companies lately raised, and necessarily composed of natives, since Englishmen could not be found to serve without pay or clothes. ‘Thus,’ said Wallop, ‘have we trained and furnished Irishmen to serve the enemy’s turn.’ Walsingham could only say that Perrott might have lived in better season under Henry VIII., when princes were resolute in honourable attempts. ‘Our age has been given to other manner of proceedings, whereto the Lord Deputy must be content to conform himself as other men do.’[142]

Composition in Connaught.

Unsuccessful with his parliament, with his council, and with the great men of the Pale, Perrott found the chieftains of Connaught still amenable to reason. Ten years before, Sidney had found them willing to hold their lands of the Queen and to pay rent, but the completion of the contract was Perrott’s work. The commissioners named were Bingham as governor, the Earls of Thomond and Clanricarde, the Baron of Athenry, Sir Tirlogh O’Brien, Sir Richard Burke of Mayo, O’Connor Sligo, O’Rourke, O’Flaherty, and others, and they proposed that the Queen should have a quit rent of 10s. a quarter out of all arable and pasture land in Connaught and Clare. There were to be no other exactions except certain days’ labour for fortifications or other public buildings. Contributions of horse and foot on warlike occasions were to be matter of special agreement. Anxious for peace among themselves and convinced that they could not make head against the State, the chiefs agreed to these terms, in the hopes of obtaining a firm and just government. To make things pleasant, some special privileges were granted to a few important people, and it was calculated that a revenue of rather less than 4,000l. a year would be secured to the Crown. Less than one-third of the whole soil was really included in this settlement; waste lands, water, and fraudulent concealments will account for the rest. The plan of the composition was good, but the result did not fulfil Perrott’s expectation. In so extensive an area many were dissatisfied with their lot, and the Government was neither strong enough nor steady enough to enforce order among a rude people.[143]

Perrott’s personal troubles.

His traducers.

Perrott claimed to be a careful husband of the Queen’s resources, and rather ostentatiously professed his contempt for the interested criticism of others. But Elizabeth’s parsimony increased with her years, and she was only too ready to listen to those who told her she was being robbed. She directed a stringent inquiry into the revenue, suggesting that arrears had been allowed to accumulate, that improper concessions had been granted, that crown leases had been given without due inquiry, that personal allowances had been made without exacting service in return, and in short that everyone’s interests had been regarded but her own. ‘It is not meant,’ she said, ‘that the possession of lands and chattels lately escheated by rebellion should be in the power and authority of the Lord Deputy, but to be stayed at her Majesty’s will and pleasure.’ This and other similar hints cut Perrott to the quick. No doubt his despotic temper sometimes induced him to overstep the bounds of strict law, and his enemies were always on the watch. He was accused of making money unfairly out of household and table allowances. It was said that his accounts showed annual liveries, whereas they were in reality biennial; he allowed no fires even in bitter February weather, and there was no good cheer in the Castle. ‘I had little thought,’ he indignantly exclaimed, ‘that any part of her Highness’s honour had depended on my supper. I am sorry that men’s eyes are so narrowly bent on my diet, and I doubt will watch my uprising and downlying too.’ He had always provided supper for those who could enjoy it; as for himself the doctors had forbidden him that insidious meal for nearly a quarter of a century. And yet, he said, he would rather die of indigestion than incur the imputation of niggardly conduct. ‘I pray you,’ he wrote to Burghley, ‘help to rid me hence, that I may avoid all these spiteful occasions of grief and unkindness.’[144]

Rumours of invasion.

Miserable state of the army.

Preparations for the settlement of Munster, and speculations as to the coming of the Armada, occupied the early days of 1586. A rover, who put into Cork Harbour, declared that 20,000 Spaniards were intended for Ireland. Redmond O’Gallagher, whom the Pope had provided to the See of Derry, and whom the Queen had not sought to displace, was once more on his travels in search of aid from France or Spain, and Munster lay open to attack. There was no garrison even at Limerick, which was called the strongest place in the province, and the guns had fallen to the ground from their rotten carriages. The muskets were useless from rust, and the feathers had damped off the arrows. Cork, Waterford, and the rest were in no better case. Wallop had to pledge his plate for 100l., and the captains were in debt through vain attempts to clothe their shivering men, who ran off to the Irish chiefs to look for brogues and frieze mantles. The Vice-Treasurer anxiously begged for 20,000l.; if the Spaniards landed it would cost 300,000l. to get rid of them. But Elizabeth’s thoughts were all given to the Continent, and better than any man in Ireland she probably understood the real impotence of Spain.[145]

Parliament—the Desmond attainder.

Parliament dissolved.

In the second session of Perrott’s Parliament the chief business was the Desmond attainder, and there was so much opposition that some of the judges were sent for to assure the House of Commons that Ormonde’s rights should be saved. In the bill which then passed, Desmond and his brothers John and James, James Fitzmaurice, and thirty-four others were named, their lands being vested in the Crown without inquisition, but without prejudice to innocent parties. Eighty-two others were attainted by name in another Act, which contained the same reservations. Some of the late Opposition had apologised, but an Opposition still remained, and Perrott was not allowed to punish it as he wished. The Commons rejected a bill vesting the lands of persons thereafter attainted in the Crown without the usual formalities, and they finally refused to grant a subsidy of 13s. 4d. upon every ploughland. The session lasted less than three weeks. At the dissolution Speaker Walshe addressed the Lord Deputy at length, praising the constitution, lamenting that the Queen was an absentee, and hinting pretty plainly that the subject was overburdened. ‘Lamps,’ he said, ‘cannot give light that are not maintained with oil.’ Perrott’s answer, if he gave one, is not recorded; but Elizabeth was so little pleased with her Parliament of Ireland, that she summoned no other during the remaining sixteen years of her reign.[146]

The MacDonnells in Antrim.

Sorley Boy becomes a subject,

and a great landowner.

Perrott’s last invasion of Ulster, and his correspondence with the King of Scotland, had done little good. Dunluce was now in Sorley Boy’s hands, and the English Government inclined to make friends with him. Sorley hesitated to go to Dublin, and in the meantime his eldest son Alaster was killed in Tyrconnell. After being wounded in a skirmish he swam across a river, but we found him, says Captain Price, ‘by great chance in a deep grave, strewn over with rushes, and on every side six old calliox weeping... but a quick corse therein, and in memory of Dunluce we cried quittance with him, and sent his head to be set on Dublin Castle.’ Perrott was inclined to make the most of success, and to break off the negotiations, ‘as though,’ said Fenton, ‘by this blow hydra’s head were seared up.’ But his loss made the old chief readier to treat, and he came to Dublin on protection, after writing a humble letter. It is said that an official brutally showed him his son’s head over the Castle gate, and that he proudly answered, as if to justify Fenton’s simile, ‘my son has many heads.’ He made a formal submission, prostrating himself before a portrait of Queen Elizabeth, admitting that he had no legal right in Ulster, and particularly condemning his own folly ‘in leaving such men in the Castle of Dunluce, within this her Highness’s land, as should say they kept it in the name, or to the use of, the King of Scots, a Prince that honoureth her Majesty and embraceth her favour.’ The land he held had been taken by force, and he was willing to keep it on such terms as the Queen might be pleased to grant. Upon this basis a treaty was concluded, by which Sorley had a grant by knight service of all the land between the Bann and the Bush, and of much to the eastward, and he was made Constable of Dunluce, while resigning his claim to property in it. He became a denizen, and having got all that he had fought for, gave Perrott no further trouble. A great part of the Glynns, comprising the coast between Larne and Ballycastle, had already been granted to his nephew Angus. Thus were the MacDonnells confirmed in the possessions for which they had struggled so long.[147]

Bingham in Connaught.

The Mayo Burkes rebel,

and are harried by Bingham,

who strikes terror into all.

Bingham soon tried how real was the submission of western Connaught, for he held sessions at Galway, and hanged seventy persons, of whom some were gentlemen. This he modestly called the cutting off of a few bad members. He then, after a three weeks’ siege, took Clonloan Castle from the O’Briens and killed all the garrison. He went next against the Hag’s Castle in Lough Mask, which was held by some Burkes, who had risen rather than attend Galway sessions. An attack in boats failed, but the garrison slipped away by water, and resolved, according to the annalists, to defend no more castles against the Queen of England. Resistance was vain, and most of the chiefs came in to Bingham, among them being Richard Burke, a noted partisan, who was called the Hedge or Pale of Ireland. It was proved that he had been intriguing with the Scots, and he was promptly hanged, by the sentence of a court-martial. Peremptory orders then came from Perrott to give the rest protection, and the Burkes immediately broke out again, saying that they would have a MacWilliam, though they fetched him out of Spain. They would have no sheriff, and attend no sessions, nor serve a heretic hag, but would transfer their allegiance to the Pope or the Catholic king. They were near 800 strong, and Bingham would not attack them without Perrott’s orders, who gave them as soon as he saw clearly that conciliation had done no good. After three months’ delay, Bingham again took the field, with Clanricarde and others, and had a parley with the rebels at Ballinrobe. They stood out for their old terms, whereupon Bingham proclaimed them all traitors and hanged the hostages in his hands. Three thousand cows were driven from the mountains between Mayo and Galway; but the annalists assert that the guilty escaped, and that only the innocent were plundered. The soldiers, they say, killed old men, women, and boys, ‘and hanged Theobald O’Toole, supporter of the destitute and keeper of a house of hospitality.’ The proclamation had, however, the effect of making Bingham’s enemies distrust each other. The Joyces, a tribe of Welsh origin, very long settled in Galway, the Clandonnells, or gallowglasses of Scottish descent, and the various septs of Burkes, kept separate; while the O’Flaherties, who had lately been in rebellion, were now glad to attack their neighbours at the Governor’s instance. Sir Murrogh of the Battleaxes, chief of the O’Flaherties, plundered the Joyces, while his kinsman Roger, with a flotilla, prevented them from escaping into the islands. The corn was not yet ripe, but Bingham meant to burn it when the time came, and thought that his subjects would then be in no case to make dangerous alliance with the Scots. The bad spirit showed signs of spreading, and a messenger from Munster reported that Leicester was dead in Holland, and that his army was destroyed. Two great Spanish armies, he gave out, had landed in England, there was a Spanish fleet at Baltimore, James of Scotland was preparing for war, and, to crown all, Queen Elizabeth was at the point of death. Bingham managed to catch the tale-bearer, and hanged him as a spy, and finding that they had little chance against this pitiless soldier, most of the rebels came in; ‘so pined away for want of food, and so ghasted with fear within seven or eight weeks, by reason they were so roundly followed without any interim of rest, that they looked rather like to ghosts than men.’ Except a small body of the Burkes, who remained in arms at Castlebar, no one was left to greet the Scots when they at last appeared.[148]

The Scots invade Connaught,

and are pursued by Bingham.

Two years before, Donnell Gorme, a brother to Angus, had been granted nearly two-thirds of the Glynns which were then in his possession. But he afterwards rebelled, and was ready for anything. Messengers from the Mayo Burkes earnestly sought his help, and being joined by his brother, Alaster, he brought 2,000 Redshanks from the isles. The brothers landed in Innishowen, and all the loose Scots in Ireland gathered round them, so that their force was uncertain. Only a week before their appearance on the Erne, Wallop said they were less than 600 bare-tailed beggars, and not at all dangerous. They plundered O’Dogherty and Maguire, and waited at Belleek for news of their Connaught friends. Bingham, who was at Balla in Mayo, heard that they were likely to enter his province by the north shore of Lough Ree, hurried to Roscommon, found that he had been misled, and then made his way to Sligo by forced marches. The Scots were encamped on the Erne, and he sent to ask what they wanted. The MacDonnells said their friends had drawn them over by offering the spoil of Connaught: that like all other soldiers in the world they had no shift but to serve the highest bidder, and that they would take what they could until hindered by the strong hand.[149]

Bingham watches the Scots.

Who draw towards Mayo.

Bingham had with him but 60 regular horse and 400 foot. Of these 300 were half-trained Irishmen, and upon his 200 kerne and 200 Irish horse he could place little reliance. He stood on the defensive till help came; and after a fortnight’s delay the Scots advanced stealthily towards the Curlew hills, and passed Bingham’s scouts on a very dark and stormy night. 50 Irish horse watched the bridge at Collooney, but they made no fight, and 400 Scots passed before the infantry came up. The rest of the intruders crossed higher up by a ford Bingham had never heard of, but they lost some 50 men in subsequent skirmishes. Bingham then discharged his Irish auxiliaries. ‘They were,’ he said, ‘to me a great trouble, and very chargeable, and during their being in my company, I could keep no enterprise secret, and yet but mean men when they come to action, for at the charge they forsook me.’ Their hearts were not in the work, and no real help was given but by Clanricarde and two or three of his men. While waiting for reinforcements, Bingham crossed the Slieve Gamp mountains near the sea, with a view to saving the great herds of cattle in Tireragh. Mayo was the real destination of the Scots, but Bingham’s information was uncertain, and he moved towards Lough Gara, where he was joined by 40 horse and 250 foot which Perrott had ordered up from Munster. He had now nearly 600 men, of which less than 100 were horse, and this was his greatest strength. It had been supposed that the Scots would seize Roscommon; but they moved ‘the clean contrary way’ towards Ballina, giving out, and perhaps believing, that Bingham’s forces had abandoned him, and that the country was theirs. Sir Richard’s spies brought the news at noon, ‘before our men could kill their beef and prepare it to refresh themselves with’; and he followed the Scots at once through the woods to Bannada Abbey. A priest and two gentlemen of the O’Haras guided him by Aclare to Ardnarea on the Moy, where the strangers lay waiting for the Burkes to join them.

Bingham follows the Scots by night,

and annihilates them at the Moy.

Bingham left Castlemore-Costello in the afternoon of Wednesday, halted at Bannada Abbey two hours after nightfall, and marched by moonlight to Aclare. With the morning light, he says, ‘we forsook the highway, and took through the mountains with horsemen, footmen, and carriage, carrying all our own forces as in a “heyrse” together, keeping the bottoms and lowest passages as near as we might by circumferent ways, and with as great silence as was possible.’ Reaching firm ground about nine o’clock, Bingham learned that the enemy were only two miles away, and pushed on at once with his cavalry, the advanced guard actually riding into their camp unchallenged. The Scots got into order as quickly as they could, Bingham skirmishing until his foot came up. He had the advantage of ground, and the Redshanks broke at the first charge. ‘I was never,’ said Captain Woodhouse, ‘so weary with killing of men, for I protest to God, for as fast as I could I did but hough and paunch them.’ In an hour all was over. About eighty swam naked over the Moy, and were mostly killed by the natives whom they had come to fight for; the rest became entangled in each other, and, to use Bingham’s own expression, were carried out to sea in ‘plumpes.’ Both their leaders were slain. A thousand corpses lay on the field, and 500 more were found next day about the banks and shallows. ‘The number of their fighting-men slain and drowned that day we estimated and numbered to be 1,400 or 1,500, besides boys, women, churls, and children, which could not be so few as as many more and upwards.’ If it be true that Bingham only lost two or three men, and those chiefly through their own folly, the surprise must have been more complete than we should infer from the English accounts. ‘They were,’ says the Four Masters, ‘first aroused from their profound slumbers by the shrieks of their military attendants, whom the Governor’s people were slaughtering throughout the town. The Scots then arose expertly, and placed themselves, as well as they were able, in order and battle array.’[150]

Perrott insists on going to Connaught.

Bad feeling between Perrott and Bingham.

Bingham had asked for only 250 men from Perrott, and had particularly requested that the Deputy should not enter Connaught. He complained that the aid was tardily sent, and that much of the effect of his victory would be taken away if he were not left to follow it up in his own way. The Council also opposed Perrott’s expedition, but notwithstanding this and the rebuke he had received from the Queen for visiting Ulster under similar circumstances, he set out upon the journey, but had only reached Mullingar at the date of Bingham’s victory. He went on to Galway, though his retinue were a heavy burden to the province. He took cattle for their use at a forced price, and thus broke the composition which had been made in his name, but chiefly through Bingham’s exertions. Perrott afterwards declared that the journey only cost the Queen 100l., that Bingham had requested his presence, and that the Council had given him leave to go. But it is impossible to reconcile these statements with those made in a hostile sense. At first the Council altogether refused their consent, and then, when some of Perrott’s opponents were absent and more of his supporters present, they agreed, by no means unanimously, that he should go to the borders of Connaught only. After the overthrow of the Scots there was no longer any valid reason for going forward. Bingham complained that at Galway the Lord Deputy did nothing but hunt up evidence against him, so as, if possible, to make it appear that his misgovernment had made the Burkes rebel. The chief men of the clans were, however, induced to sign a paper in which they declared their confidence in the Governor. They said their revolt was caused by what they could not deny to be commendable reforms. It had been reported that ‘this new governor would make their churls their masters, and that the gentlemen were like to become beggars for want of their cuttings and spendings, and such other exactions as they compelled the tenants to yield unto them at their own devotion.’ This and the destruction of their old tribal organisation, by abolishing the name and power of MacWilliam, were the real causes of the outbreak; and surely we need look no farther. It is impossible to say whether Perrott was jealous, or whether he really disapproved of Bingham’s proceedings; but he indulged in strong and even coarse language, and that could not fail to excite prejudice against him.[151]

Perrott quarrels with his Council

Like many of his predecessors, Perrott chafed under the restraint of the Council. The English or official party at the Board were inclined to lessen his power by frequent references to the Home Government. On this side were Lord Chancellor Loftus, Sir Nicholas Bagenal the Knight-Marshal, Vice-Treasurer Wallop, and Secretary Fenton. The Great Seal was in the Chancellor’s hands, the signet in the Secretary’s, and Perrott had thus the mortification of seeing his opponents concerned in every act of importance. Most lawyers of Irish birth took the other side, and of these the most active were Sir Nicholas White and Chief Baron Sir Lucas Dillon. Loftus and his friends generally leaned on Walsingham, while their opponents had more hope from Burghley. Fenton was in England during the latter half of 1585 and until March in the next year, and Perrott, who knew what the Secretary’s influence would be, expected his recall, and was ready to welcome it.

and thereby displeases the Queen.

The Queen did not blame her representative directly; but she sent home despatches by Fenton which he greatly disliked, though they were very moderate and considerate in terms. The Council was to be more often consulted, and the Secretary was directed to read all instructions from headquarters openly at the Board at least once a quarter. This was no new thing, but a rebuke may have been implied in giving Fenton the initiative. In secret matters the Deputy was to confer with the English councillors, and offices in his gift were to be bestowed only on fit persons, which seems to suggest that he had made some improper appointments. Perrott considered these orders derogatory to his dignity, and he begged to be relieved.[152]

Perrott quarrels with Archbishop Loftus,

and sends the Chief Secretary to gaol.

Challenges the Governor of Connaught,

and assaults the marshal.

The argument between the Lord Deputy and the Lord Chancellor about St. Patrick’s was so loud that it reached the Queen’s ear, and she wrote to them both, enjoining a reconciliation. Burghley added some fatherly advice to Loftus, and an open breach was avoided. But the Archbishop lost no opportunity of doing the Deputy an ill turn. “Contempt of God’s religion,” “immoderate government,” “abhorred and loathed of the best sort of this people,” were among the expressions he allowed himself to use in writing to Walsingham. With Burghley he was more guarded, acknowledging that the private mislike between him and the Deputy made open complaint unbecoming, yet complaining very strongly at the same time. There was not much outward scandal, for the Chancellor’s mitre protected him in some measure, and a dignified ecclesiastic had probably enough self-restraint to avoid irritating language. Others were less fortunate. Secretary Fenton owed 20l. to the Deputy, and 50l. to one of his retainers; and for this small debt—the liability to pay which he had not denied—Perrott had this high official hurried off through the streets on market-day, and ignominiously cast into the common gaol. For this extraordinary proceeding the Queen took her Deputy severely to task, and ordered Fenton’s immediate enlargement. ‘Considering,’ she said, ‘how inconvenient it is at all times, but especially in so doubtful and perilous a season as this, to have you and the rest of our Council there divided, as we hear you are by factions and partialities, to our just offence and mislike, the slander of your government and prejudice of our service, whereof we doubt not but you will, for your own part, have that regard that in honour and duty appertaineth.’ Bingham’s duties in Connaught kept him from the Council-board, but Perrott gave him as little countenance as possible. There was a standing dispute about the house at Athlone, which was in the Deputy’s hands, and which Bingham naturally wanted for an official residence. Perrott’s journey into the province against the Governor’s advice made things worse, and Bingham complained of hard usage, ‘especially in bad speeches and uncourteous terms, such as for modesty’s sake I omit to write here.’ Theobald Dillon, collector of composition rents in Connaught, was supported by the Lord Deputy against Bingham; but the Council heard Dillon’s charges, and declared them unfounded. The evening before the Council gave their decision, and doubtless after the result of the hearing was known, Stephen Seagrave, constable of the Castle, came to Bingham, on Perrott’s part, with a great white truncheon in his hand, and informed him that his lordship was ready for the combat. Bingham said he never heard of any such combat before, and the Lord Deputy admitted having sent Seagrave. The provocation alleged was mere hearsay: that Lord Delvin had told Perrott that Sir Richard had told Lieutenant Jacques that he would fight the Deputy if he were out of office; and Seagrave was told to tell Bingham that the duel might take place at once. Still worse was the treatment of Sir Nicholas Bagenal, who was near eighty years old, and who had served the State well for half a century. A dispute arising in the Council Chamber, Perrott actually struck the old man. According to Bagenal, he knocked him down; others thought the blow was nothing, but that the aged marshal fell in the confusion. Bagenal held up his stick, but not till the Deputy had first laid hands on him. They were separated; and then this edifying dialogue took place: ‘You do lie,’ said the Deputy, ‘if you think I have dealt evil in anything.’

‘You lie,’ said the Marshal, and to mend it said, ‘if you were not Deputy, I would say you lie, for I care not for Sir John Perrott.’

‘If I were but Sir John Perrott,’ said the Deputy, ‘I would teach him that came from a tailor’s stall, to use me thus.’

‘It makes no matter,’ said the Marshal.

‘Well,’ said the Deputy, ‘because you doat, I will bear with you; otherwise I would commit you to the prison.’

‘If you did,’ said he, ‘I would come out, whether you would or not.’

‘Very well, Mr. Marshal,’ said the Deputy, ‘get you hence, for it is not reason to talk with you. A man would think you are drunk.’

‘Nay, you are drunk,’ said the Marshal to the Deputy.

After this it is hardly worth while to repeat Wallop’s complaints, that his labours in Munster were slighted, and that the Lord Deputy sometimes indulged in violent language against him, and against Chief Justice Gardiner.[153]

Perrott’s troubles.

Perrott’s health may partly excuse him, for he suffered much. ‘By God, Mr. Carew,’ he wrote, ‘I daily grow weaker and weaker of body through the great pain I have of the stone, growing more and more upon me in this slimy country. In Connaught, if I travelled one day, through the grating of the stone in my kidneys I was fain to rest another; and in the end the Irish ague took me, that I was seven days like to die in Galway, and am not yet thoroughly recovered thereof, nor shall not (I believe) pass this next year, except her Majesty, of her great grace, give me licence to go to the Spa the next spring; a suit that I made to her Highness nine years agone. It were better her Majesty preserved me to serve her in some other place, than I to be wilfully cast away here.’ Ireland was a prison where he could do no good to himself nor to any other man. ‘Help your poor friend out of this hell,’ was his prayer to Leicester. If he could but see Elizabeth all would be well, for she had promised not to listen to detractors who were his enemies because he served one God and one Queen; but now her Deputy was brought into greater contempt than ever Sir John Perrott was. One can sympathise with the man; but no good work could be expected from a governor who had personally quarrelled with all the more important members of the Council, by whose advice he was bound to act.[154]

An Irish regiment sent to Holland,

under Sir William Stanley,

who deserts to the Spaniards.

Stanley wished to invade Ireland,

but never effected anything.

Ireland being comparatively peaceful, it occurred to Elizabeth, or to some of her advisers, that an Irish force might be raised for service in the Netherlands. Perhaps it was also thought that the more loose swordsmen were sent out of the country the more likely it was to remain quiet. The officer chosen was Sir William Stanley, who had done good service in many parts of Ireland, and who had been rewarded by a reversionary grant of the Mastership of the Ordnance. The Catholic party was at this time in the ascendency at Deventer, and had given trouble by introducing provisions into the beleaguered city of Zutphen. Leicester sent Sir William Pelham to secure Deventer, and Stanley, whom he must have known well in Ireland, was ordered to support him. Pelham secured the municipality in Protestant hands, and Leicester then handed over the place to Stanley, who was known to favour the old religion, and suspected of being concerned in plots, and who had been associating with Spaniards for months. Leicester’s chief object in making this appointment seems to have been to annoy Sir John Norris, from whose control, with almost incredible folly, he specially excepted Stanley and his Irishmen. The fort of Zutphen, which had been lately taken, was entrusted to Rowland Yorke, an adventurer of the worst character, who soon opened communications with the Spanish garrison of the town. Stanley’s Irish soldiers were allowed into Zutphen to hear mass; and Leicester, though he was warned of what was going on, took no steps to prevent it. When the Earl went to England, Yorke and Stanley had ample time for plotting, and Deventer was given up to the Spaniards in due course. But treason rarely prospers. Yorke, who was promised a large reward, died under suspicious circumstances before he could enjoy it. Stanley seems to have been more disinterested; but he received money from Philip, joined Parma’s army, and was seen by Robert Cecil during his mission to France in 1598, who notes that the renegade was fain to pull his cap over his face. Nor did all Spaniards approve Stanley’s conduct, if it be true that in passing through Seville ‘he was well handled of the country, for they unarmed him, unhorsed him, reviled him for his lewd doings towards his prince, and made him go on foot; but coming to the King he was in favour, and punishment used on such as thus dealt with him, and the officers displaced for suffering it.’ An invasion of Ireland was contemplated under Stanley’s leadership, and he looked forward with pleasure to the service. ‘I will,’ he said, ‘ruin the whole country as far as Holland and the parts about Wezel (Ijssel) and Emden in six days, and in Ireland I will open such a game of war as the Queen has never seen in her life.’ Against his advice the descent on Ireland was abandoned, and he sank into obscurity; it was even reported that he had gone mad. An Italian named Giacomo de Francesqui, and sometimes called Captain Jacques, who had been his lieutenant in Ireland, was arrested by Burghley’s orders. This officer was on friendly terms with Florence MacCarthy, and was known to have been acquainted with Ballard; and it was thought that he might be utilised by the Spaniards in Munster. Most of Stanley’s Irish levies doubtless left their bones in the Low Countries, but a few returned to Ireland, and eleven of these poor men were pardoned by Elizabeth nearly seven years after the treason at Deventer. ‘They were,’ she said, ‘innocently forced to disobey us.’ For many years there were reports that Stanley was coming to Ireland, but he never came. In Cheshire old Sir Rowland Stanley ‘grievously lamented his son William the traitor, maintaining his son in Cambridge, and also relieving his wife and children, having no other maintenance.’[155]

The Irish in Spain.

Drake is the terror of Spain.

Irish merchants partisans of Spain.

If Stanley’s advice had been taken, Elizabeth might have been reduced to serious straits, for it was impossible to prevent a Spanish descent, and there were but scant preparations to meet an enemy on shore. Early in 1586 it was rumoured that there would be an invasion on May Day, and Perrott asked for a small cruiser to gather news on the Biscay coast. Merchants from Spain and Portugal reported that Irishmen were free from the embargo laid on English shipping, and that the many Irish residents in the peninsula made no secret of what was going on. Forty thousand men had been collected; eighty-five ships were ready, all but the rigging; Irish refugees from Rome and elsewhere flocked to Spain. Irish sailors were often detained by the Spanish Government, and occasionally told their adventures to Perrott, who also employed a secret agent, one Davy Duke, who knew Italian and Spanish, passed as a Jesuit, and had letters of introduction from a papal bishop imprisoned in Dublin Castle. Miles Brewett, mariner of Dublin, told how he had been taken before Santa Cruz, and how the Marquis had said that he knew Perrott very well, regretting that he was such a Lutheran, and wishing for one of his best horses and for one of his best hawks. The Admiral asked Brewett much about Ireland, and he answered that he had never known it so quiet. One of James Fitzmaurice’s sons boasted to him that 5,000 men were going to Ireland, that Feagh MacHugh was ready to welcome them, and that all Ireland would do the same, except Dublin, Waterford, and Drogheda. But Brewett heard from others that Philip was weary of the Irish, and that his subjects called them beggars. Their priests cried out against Duke, who, after learning all he could, went over to Bayonne and wrote boldly to say that he was going to his mistress Queen Elizabeth. He bade the Pope farewell, saying that he liked of his countrymen’s company, but not of their learning. As the plot thickened, news of Santa Cruz came constantly to Waterford, and Drake’s very successful predatory cruise was freely discussed by merchants and others. One said that the great sailor must have taken Cadiz if he had landed at once; for that the whole population were at a comedy, where eighteen persons were crushed to death in the panic caused by his appearance—a lady with 16,000 ducats a year being among the victims. Even in the heart of Castille, Spaniards hardly thought themselves safe. Philip and his train were amusing themselves on some artificial water, and a lady who was invited to enter the royal barge refused to do so, ‘for fear of Sir Francis Drake.’ The usually impassive monarch is said to have lost his temper, and banished the timid, or perhaps only sarcastic, lady from court, swearing a great oath that he would be revenged on England. To bring this happy result about, he ordered that all Irishmen and Scots should be used as Spaniards. Baltinglas had left a brother who assumed his title, and offered to invade Ireland if the King would give him 5,000 men. Philip was willing to do so much, but the Irish gentlemen clamoured for twice or thrice as many, and he then said they did not know their own minds, and should have none at all. Despairing of Spain, Fitzmaurice’s son and some others proposed to go to Ireland and make terms with Perrott, but this plan was given up, owing to rumours of some severe measures of the Irish Government, and they again began to talk glibly of invasion. Santa Cruz had good information about Ireland from Limerick and Waterford merchants, ‘who, under colour of their conscience lie at Lisbon these two years past, and hath their wives and children at home, and doth nothing but hearken for news of the state of England and Ireland, and whatever they can hear they report to the Cardinal and Marquis, and deliver the same with more than they can learn, and all to win themselves credit.’ The English court were not blind to the danger of Ireland, though almost to the last Elizabeth seems hardly to have realised the Armada. Everything was wanting for the defence of Ireland, and the Queen would not listen. ‘If,’ said Perrott, ‘any number of enemies arrive here, the cities and towns of this kingdom, and consequently the realm itself, will stand in great danger of losing, and the few Englishmen that be here in like danger of perishing.... I wish that the desire of peace (whereof I have little hope) may not cause forgetfulness, or breed peril to lose that we have.’[156]

The cess.

The regular revenue of Ireland was small, and as an army was absolutely necessary, it had been usual to levy irregular taxes upon the shires of the Pale. There were plenty of lawyers to condemn taxation without the consent of Parliament; but in this case the prerogative had been allowed, though there were many long disputes as to the amount of the aid, and as to its incidence. Cess of some kind had been exacted since the time of Edward III., and Sidney, who understood the subject thoroughly, describes it as a ‘prerogative of the Prince and an agreement and consent of the nobility and Council to impose upon the country a certain proportion of victual of all kinds, to be delivered and issued at a reasonable rate, and, as it is commonly termed, the Queen’s price, so that the rising and falling of prices makes the matter easier or heavier to the people.’ The cess had been regularly levied since the latter years of Henry VIII., and a practice had crept in of applying it to the Lord-Deputy’s household as well as to the army. The uncertainty of the impost was the worst part of it, and Elizabeth wished to substitute a regular money payment. Temporary arrangements were made, and the total sum leviable was fixed at 2,100l.; the cultivated parts of Kilkenny, Tipperary, Wexford, Carlow, King’s County, and Queen’s County being made contributory, as well as the original Pale. Perrott tried to abolish the cess altogether, and to substitute a fixed land-tax of 1l. on every ploughland. This was reduced to 13s. 4d., but the Bill failed in the House of Commons, and Perrott had to fall back upon the composition of 2,100l.[157]

Bingham is sent to Holland,

but soon returns to Ireland.

The Council acquitted Bingham of all Dillon’s charges; but no peace followed, and Perrott continued to pile up accusations against him. For the sake of quiet the English Government resolved to utilise Bingham’s energies in Holland, and he took the opportunity to sum up his services for Burghley’s information. Connaught was at peace, though he had little help from his official superior, and Elizabeth was sure to be pleased at his having made the province pay its own expenses. ‘The Lord Deputy,’ he said, ‘took the Composition book from myself, and would not give me so much as a copy of that which in effect was my own work, whereby I was driven to search it out with infinite labour and pains.’ Bingham had been given to understand that he should succeed Lord Willoughby in Holland, and be allowed to appoint a deputy in Connaught. But the Queen named Sir Thomas Le Strange to act during his absence, while giving particular orders that none of his officers should be displaced. Bingham saw no prospect of advancement in Holland after the departure of Leicester, on whose patronage he relied, and returned to England with him or before him. He was admitted to the Queen’s presence, the house at Athlone was given up to him, in spite of Perrott and of Wallop’s claim to a leasehold interest in it, and he returned to Ireland much stronger than he had left it.[158]

Perrott’s credit declines.

Perrott leaves Ireland.

The restoration of Bingham to his government marks the time when the scale finally turned against Sir John Perrott. His faults of temper have been already sufficiently commented on; he was in bad health; and worse things than ill-health or ill-temper were whispered about him. But Ireland was manifestly peaceful, and by appointing Sir William Fitzwilliam the Queen showed that she expected quiet times and wished for an unambitious policy. Whatever chagrin Perrott may have felt at his supersession, he certainly expressed none. All he asked was that his successor might come at once, so as to let him take the waters at Bath; Spa being now out of the question. Fitzwilliam, however, lingered six months; and when at last the time came for delivering the sword Perrott presented to the Corporation of Dublin a silver gilt bowl bearing his arms and crest, and the words relinquo in pace. In handing over the badge of office he called his successor to witness that all was peaceful, and hoped that he would say so to the Queen’s Council. Fitzwilliam answered that if he could leave it half as well he should do his Queen and country good service. ‘There is,’ continued Perrott, ‘no ill-minded or suspected person in this kingdom, which can carry but six swords after him into the field, but if you will name him and shall desire to have him, notwithstanding that I have resigned the sword, yet... if they come not in on my word, I will lose the merit and reputation of all my service.’ Fitzwilliam replied that it needed not, for all was well. Three days later Perrott left Ireland for ever. A great number of noblemen and gentlemen came to see him off, among whom old Tirlogh Luineach was conspicuous. That representative of an order that had almost passed away accompanied him to the ship and would not put off until the last moment. He watched the retreating sail until it was below the horizon, and then shed tears ‘as if he had been beaten.’ Nor was it only lords and chiefs who mourned for Perrott. The poor came forty miles to see him pass, praying for his long life and striving to take his hand if possible, or to touch the hem of his garment. When he asked them why they did so, they answered, ‘that they never had enjoyed their own with peace before his time, and did doubt they should never do so again when he was gone.’[159]

State of Ireland when Perrott left—Connaught and Leinster.

The quiet state of Connaught is perhaps most justly attributable to Bingham, but the Lord Deputy might take full credit for Leinster. Yet it was perhaps well that Fitzwilliam was polite, for the home province, though not in rebellion, was full of brigands who would certainly not have come at Perrott’s call. Feagh MacHugh, with his 100 swordsmen, gave a ready refuge to vain and light persons, but he thought it politic to pay his respects to the new governor. His son-in-law, Walter Reagh, one of the bastard Geraldines who had long given trouble, was ready for any desperate feat. Captain Thomas Lee planned his destruction, but Mrs. Lee was an Irishwoman and kept the outlaw well-informed. Walter Reagh promptly murdered one of his followers who had been in communication with Lee, and the captain, not unnaturally, separated from his wife. Sir George Carew had assigned his constableship of Leighlin to Dudley Bagenal, son of the old marshal, whom Perrott justly called a ‘very unadvised man.’ Bagenal had treated many of his Irish neighbours abominably, yet he neglected to keep his proper quota of English, and garrisoned his fort with kerne at 40s. or 3l. a year. Walter Reagh having stolen some cattle, the constable pursued with eighteen men, was drawn into an ambuscade, killed and mutilated. Walter Reagh was not hanged until ten years later.[160]

Munster. The Desmond forfeitures.

The settlement hangs fire.

Irish and English tenants.

Munster was exhausted by war, and the only danger was from Spain. Some said soldiers were as little needed in Kerry as in Surrey or Middlesex, but little could be done in the way of colonisation while rumours of the Armada filled the air. The land, however, was roughly surveyed, and the seignory of 12,000 acres was fixed as the basis of a plantation, fractional parts being assigned in proportion to the colonists’ means. The younger sons of gentlemen and substantial yeomen were to be encouraged to take leases under the undertakers, as the great grantees were called, and English artisans and labourers were also to be provided, while settlers from the same country were to be placed near one another. Difficulties soon arose. A disposition was shown to stretch the Queen’s title, and this caused universal distrust. Thus Fitzgerald of Decies, who had been created a viscount for his staunch loyalty against the Desmonds, and who had always claimed to hold of the Queen, was required to prove his title strictly. If he could be made out Desmond’s tenant, then was Decies at the Queen’s mercy. It was no wonder that Mr. Surveyor Robins had stones thrown at him. Legal questions sprang up like mushrooms after rain. Who were innocent of rebellion, and how far were conveyances to uses fraudulent? ‘At Cork, Kilmallock, and Clonmel,’ said the Solicitor-General, ‘we spent five weeks in hearing the claims and titles to her Majesty’s lands found by office. We had every man’s bills, and fair evidence showed us, whereby it appears that the Irishry (especially by their daily feofments to uses) have practised as many fraudulent shifts for preserving their lands from forfeiture as in England; and albeit their evidence be fair and very lawlike without exception, yet because fraud is secret and seldom found for her Majesty by jury, we have put the undertakers for the most part in possession, who, dwelling but half a year upon the lands, shall have better intelligence to discover the false practices than the commissioners can possibly learn out. They plead their cause by lawyers, who almost all of them in those parts have purchased titles against her Majesty, so as we have had much trouble to pacify and content them in some reasonable sort by persuasion of further hearing hereafter, and full allowance of their good titles.’ The Irish took advantage of the delay to take possession of land everywhere, and three or four years after Desmond’s death, the population was five times as great as it had been at the end of the war. A native squatter would offer a higher rent than any English settler, and everyone saw that the Plantation would fail in its main provisions. Between surveyors, lawyers, and undertakers it was impossible to make a clear title to anything, and the settlement hung fire during Perrott’s administration. But some of the undertakers came over and resided, leaving the final measurement of lands to a future day. They quarrelled among themselves, and made confusion more confounded.[161]

Ulster.

Tyrone and Tirlogh Luineach.

Ambition of Tyrone.

In Ulster Tirlogh Luineach was getting old, while Hugh O’Neill, representing the bastard Dungannon branch, grew daily stronger. Hugh was now Earl of Tyrone, with a title to all he held in his country or district, reserving 240 acres to the Crown for the fort at Blackwater, and with a grant of markets and fairs. The new Earl covenanted to let Tirlogh enjoy the chiefry during his life, to abide by the decision of a royal commission as to boundaries, rents, and services, and not to make estates to any of the smaller chiefs called urraughts, without consent of the State. Tirlogh was thus placed in possession of that part of Tyrone which lies north and west of the Mullaghcarne mountains, while receiving 1,000 marks from the Earl for the remainder. But Tyrone grasped at all which Con Bacagh or Shane had enjoyed, and Perrott saw that he was restrained by fear only. His wife was O’Donnell’s daughter, and with that chief’s help he hoped to crush Tirlogh. But Hugh, the son of Calvagh, claimed the succession in Tyrconnell, and joining his force to that of Tirlogh he attacked Tyrone’s camp at night. The latter’s force was much superior, but he was surprised, defeated, and obliged to fly to Dungannon. Hugh was afterwards murdered by order of Ineen Duive, who wished to clear the succession for her own son. When Fitzwilliam reached Dublin, he found the Earl and Tirlogh there, lodging complaints against each other. Tyrone’s defeat gave great delight to many, and David Power, who had some personal experience of his dealings, said publicly at Dundalk that he would climb so high as to break his neck, while Perrott thought ‘nothing had done so much good in the North these nine years.’ But the troubles in Ulster were only beginning.[162]