It had been arranged that the political articles of peace, to be made with the Lord Lieutenant, should be published at once; but other articles, affecting the Roman Catholic religion, concluded with the Earl of Glamorgan, were meanwhile to be kept secret, until ratified by his Majesty himself. The Lord Lieutenant was disposed to act liberally; but the Earl of Glamorgan, from his political and religious bias, combined with his warm, enthusiastic disposition, was fully disposed to approve and support demands in which he saw no extravagance, but, on the contrary, anticipated much real benefit to his own party.
All his Lordship’s negotiations, treaties, plans, promises, all his well laid schemes, and all the plottings of his party broke down through delays and repeated disasters, further promoted by the pertinacity with which the clergy held out to the last for the entire acceptance and complete settlement of their every demand; indeed the Nuncio went so far as to insist on the necessity of having a Roman Catholic Lord Lieutenant.
On the 24th of December, 1645, the Earl of Glamorgan went from Kilkenny to Dublin to confer with the Marquis of Ormond. On the 25th he was received by the Lord Lieutenant with the greatest possible civility, and every assurance of regard for his Lordship. But on the 27th, the whole course of events had changed, causing his Excellency to adopt a totally different line of conduct; an unexpected circumstance having meanwhile brought to light transactions of which he was not previously cognisant, which naturally aroused his worst suspicions, at so critical a period.
Dr. Birch has very lucidly narrated the particulars. The Popish Archbishop of Tuam, President of Connaught, and one of the Supreme Council at Kilkenny, going into Ulster to visit his diocese, and put into execution an order for arrears of his Bishopric, granted to him by that Council, met with a body of Irish troops marching to besiege Sligo, and joined with them. When they came near that town, the garrison made a sally on the 17th of October, charged the troops, utterly routed them, killing the Archbishop of Tuam in the encounter; among whose baggage was found an authentic copy, attested and signed by several bishops, of the treaty concluded with them by the Earl of Glamorgan; together with an order from the Supreme Council for the arrears of his Archbishopric; a bull of the Pope; and several letters between the Archbishop and his agents at Rome, Paris, and other places.[E]
The result of these disclosures was, that when the Council was assembled at Dublin on the 26th of December, 1645, the Lord Digby came to the board, and charging the Earl with suspicion of high treason, moved that his person might be secured. This done, he proceeded to substantiate the charge on most irrefragable evidence; wherefore the Lord Lieutenant and Council gave a warrant for the commitment of the Earl to the custody of the Constable of Dublin Castle, in condition of a close prisoner.[13]
We have uninterruptedly, thus far, followed Lord Herbert, seen him created Earl of Glamorgan, and eventually engaged by Charles the First in an extraordinary and extra-official capacity in Ireland; where he was delegated by the King to act in certain matters intended to promote the royal cause. So secret and so unheard of was this mysterious affair, that it is without a parallel in history. A Protestant monarch and a Roman Catholic nobleman are the sole actors in this strange drama; a monarch whose crown was tottering to its fall consequent on successive losses, opposed to surprising successes continually accruing to his enemies; for the battle fields of Marston Moor and of Naseby were alone sufficiently disheartening to have paralysed even a stouter heart; yet he finds in addition that, to the surrender of Bristol, he may soon have to add that of the strong city of Chester. His immediate necessities, added to the increasing expenses of the long continued war, were rapidly impoverishing not only his nobles but the country. While his own and the public distress thus gradually lessened every prospect of success, one last ray of hope seemed to present itself to the unhappy monarch. There was still a chance of succour from Ireland, the acceptance of which, however, was fraught with many difficulties. The loyalty of the Irish, it was quite evident, could only be ensured by nothing short of conciliatory measures of a more than ordinary nature, especially if desired to bring over to his service ten thousand of his Irish subjects.
The King had written from Liskeard, in August, 1644, to the enfeebled Marquis of Worcester, respecting himself and his son, of “the value I have of you both,” assuring him, “that if God bless me, I will not be behindhand with either of you.”
The most ordinary delays pressed heavily on his Majesty, whose nerves seem to have been completely unstrung by successive misfortunes and the pitiable state of his entire kingdom. In June, 1645, he expressed himself to the Earl of Glamorgan, “I am glad to hear that you are gone to Ireland;” so keenly alive was he to the importance of the mission on which he had engaged him, and in one short sentence expresses the sincere trust of his heart, when he says—“So that, by the grace of God, I hope shortly to recover my late loss with advantage, if such succours come to me from that kingdom, which I have reason to expect, but the circumstance of time is that of the greatest consequence, being that which is chiefliest and earnestliest recommended you.”
No one better knew than Charles the First himself, that he was incurring great risk, that he was adopting a bold, daring course, which success would scarcely palliate, which nothing but his own ideas of expediency could extenuate, and from the effects of which, at best, he could only hope to escape by artifice or by some strange amplification of his royal prerogative. Whatever might be the issue, the King well knew that the means he had taken would divide the opinions of all classes, and leave the final decision open to endless litigation. Such, indeed, has been the result even of its failure, but the success of the Earl’s negotiations would have brought far more important interests to bear on the questions involved in such strange transactions, than has ever yet occupied the pens of historians or biographers.
The plan for realizing this last hopeful event appeared well arranged. The agent employed was unexceptionable, he was eminently loyal, he had laid his fortune in his royal master’s lap, and zealously offered to do his bidding to the utmost of his power. The King was not wanting in condescension, affability and every gracious expression in the acknowledgment of the money and means raised by, and the energetic operations throughout, of the Earl of Glamorgan. He and his father were further each offered a dukedom; and a matrimonial alliance was to rivet their future connexion. But the King had his confidence in this singular mission strengthened materially by his intimate knowledge that both as being in accordance with his religious and political sympathies, the Earl was the most fitting instrument he could employ in so delicate an undertaking. In what respect the Earl of Glamorgan acted inconsistently or over-zealously in this perilous affair does not appear; while, on the contrary, his wonderful tact, patient submission, and judgment throughout make his remarkable discretion in every act conspicuous.