The famous Remonstrance was drawn up about this time. It was prepared by Peter Walsh, a Franciscan friar, who was a protégé of Ormonde's, and who devoted more attention to politics than to his religious duties. The Remonstrance contained expressions which were by no means consonant with that pure Catholic feeling for which the Irish had been always remarkable; but it suited the Duke's purpose all the better, and he induced a considerable number of the nobility, and some of the clergy, to affix their signatures to it. They were little aware, in giving expression to the loyalty they so sincerely felt, that they were supposed to countenance disrespect to the Church which they so deeply revered. A synod of the Irish bishops and clergy was therefore held in Dublin, to consider the document, June 11th, 1666. Although ecclesiastics were then under the penal laws, and liable to suffer at any moment, Ormonde connived at the meeting, hoping that his ends would be thereby attained. He has himself left his object on record. It was to "sow divisions among the clergy;" and Lord Orrery had written to him, being well aware of his plans, suggesting that this was a fitting time for their accomplishment. But the clergy were not so easily deceived; and even the miserable friar has left it on record, that out of 1,850 ecclesiastics, regular and secular, only sixty-nine signed the Remonstrance. The synod now prepared another document; and if the expression of loyalty was all that Ormonde required, he should have been fully satisfied; but, unfortunately, this was not the case, and he bided his time to avenge himself bitterly on the men who refused to sacrifice their conscience to his will.
During the same year (1660), the Irish sent over a contribution of 15,000 bullocks, to relieve the distress which occurred in London after the Great Fire. In return for their charity, they were assured that this was a mere pretence to keep up the cattle trade with England; and accordingly an Act was passed in which the importation of Irish cattle was forbidden, and termed a "nuisance," and language was used which, in the present day, would be considered something like a breach of privilege. The Duke of Buckingham, whose farming interests were in England, declared "that none could oppose the Bill, except such as had Irish estates or Irish understandings." Lord Ossory protested that "such virulence became none but one of Cromwell's counsellors;" and he being the eldest of the Duke of Ormonde, and having Irish interests, opposed it. Several noble lords attempted to draw their swords. Ossory challenged Buckingham; Buckingham declined the challenge. Ossory was sent to the Tower; the word "nuisance" remained; some members of the "Cabal" said it should have been "felony;" and the Irish trade was crushed. Even the Puritan settlers in Ireland began to rebel at this, for they, too, had begun to have "Irish interests," and could not quite see matters relative to that country in the same light as they had done when at the other side of the Channel. At last they became openly rebellious. Some soldiers mutinied for arrears of pay, and seized Carrickfergus Castle—ten of them were executed, and peace was restored; but the old Cromwellians, both in England and Ireland, gave considerable anxiety to the Government; and, indeed, it seems marvellous that they should not have revolted more openly and in greater force.
So many complaints were made of Ormonde's administration, that he was now removed for a time. He was succeeded by Lord Berkeley, in May, 1670, a nobleman whose honest and impartial government earned him the respect of all who were not interested in upholding a contrary line of conduct. The Catholics offered him an address, which was signed by two prelates, who held a prominent position, not only in their Church, but also in the history of the period; these were Dr. Plunkett, Archbishop of Armagh, and Dr. Talbot, Archbishop of Dublin. Colonel Richard Talbot, who was afterwards created Earl of Tyrconnel by James II., had been, for some time, the accredited agent of the Irish Catholics at the English court; he now (A.D. 1671) attempted to obtain some examination into the claims of those who had been ejected from their estates during the Commonwealth. After some delay and much opposition, a commission was appointed; but although the "Popish Plot" had not yet made its appearance, a wild "no Popery" cry was raised, and the King was obliged to recall Lord Berkeley, and substitute the Earl of Essex. Even this did not quiet the storm. On the 9th of March, 1673, an address was presented to the King by the Commons in England, demanding the persecution of Papists in Ireland; and the weak monarch, all the more afraid of appearing to show partiality, because of his apprehension that Popery might be the true religion, and his still more serious apprehensions that his people might find out his opinion, at once complied, and even recalled the Commission of Enquiry.
In 1677 Ormonde was again appointed Viceroy, and he held the office during the ensuing seven years, at an advanced age, and a period of extraordinary political excitement. The "Popish treason" was the first and the most fearful of these panics. Ormonde was at Kilkenny when he received the first intimation of the conspiracy, October 3, 1678; but he had too much knowledge of the world to credit it for a moment. Like other politicians of that, and indeed of other ages, he was obliged to keep up his reputation by appearing to believe it in public, while in private[[508]] he treated the whole affair with the contempt it merited. It was soon reported that the plot had extended to Ireland, and Archbishop Talbot was selected as the first victim. The prelate then resided with his brother, Colonel Talbot, at Carton, near Maynooth. He was in a dying state; but although his enemies might well have waited for his end, he was taken out of his bed, carried to Dublin, and confined a prisoner in the Castle. He died two years later. "He was the last distinguished captive destined to end his days in that celebrated state prison, which has since been generally dedicated to the peaceful purposes of a reflected royalty."[[509]] His brother was arrested, but allowed to go beyond the seas; and a Colonel Peppard was denounced in England as one of the leading Irish traitors. But the Colonel was quite as imaginary as the plot. No such person existed, and a non est inventis was all the return that could be made to the most active inquiries. There was one illustrious victim, however, who was found, who was executed, and who was not guilty, even in thought, of the crime of which he was accused.
Oliver Plunkett had been Archbishop of Armagh since the death of Dr. O'Reilly, in 1669. He belonged to the noble family of Fingall; but he was more respected for his virtues and his office than even for his rank. He was now accused of being in correspondence with the French; it was a favourite charge against Catholics at that time, and one which could be easily brought forward by men who did not mind swearing to a lie, and not easily disproved by men who could only assert their innocence. Lord Shaftesbury was the great patron of Titus Oates, the concocter of the plot, and the perjured murderer of scores of innocent men. It was a serious disappointment to find that no evidence of a conspiracy could be found in Ireland. Carte, who certainly cannot be suspected of the faintest shadow of preference for an Irishman or a Catholic, says that every effort was made to drive the people into rebellion. He gives the reason for this, which, from former experience, one fears must be true. "There were," he says, "too many Protestants in Ireland who wanted another rebellion, that they might increase their estates by new forfeitures." "It was proposed to introduce the Test Act and all the English penal laws into Ireland; and that a proclamation should be forthwith issued for encouraging all persons that could make any further discoveries of the horrid Popish plot, to come in and declare the same."
Unfortunately for the credit of our common humanity, persons can always be found who are ready to denounce their fellow-creatures, even when guiltless, from mere malice. When, to the pleasure of gratifying a passion, there is added the prospect of a reward, the temptation becomes irresistible; and if the desire of revenge for an injury, real or imaginary, be superadded, the temptation becomes overwhelming. In order to satisfy the clamours of the "no Popery" faction, an order had been issued, on the 16th of October, 1677, for the expulsion of all ecclesiastics from Ireland; and a further proclamation was made, forbidding Papists to enter into the Castle of Dublin, or any fort or citadel; and so far, indeed, did this childish panic exceed others of its kind, that orders were sent to the great market-towns, commanding the markets to be held outside the walls, to prevent the obnoxious Catholics from entering into the interior. Rewards were offered of £10 for an officer, £5 for a trooper, and £4 for a soldier, if it could be proved that he attended Mass; and how many were sworn away by this bribery it would be difficult to estimate. On the 2nd of December, a strict search was ordered for the Catholic ecclesiastics who had not yet transported themselves. Dr. Plunkett had not left the country. At the first notice of the storm he withdrew, according to the apostolic example, to a retired situation, where he remained concealed, more in hope of martyrdom than in fear of apprehension.
The prelate had never relaxed in his duties towards his flock, and he continued to fulfil those duties now with equal vigilance. One of the most important functions of a chief shepherd is to oversee the conduct of those who govern the flock of Christ under him. There was a Judas in the college of the Apostles, and many Judases have been found since then. The Archbishop had been obliged to excommunicate two of his priests and two friars, who had been denounced by their superiors for their unworthy lives. The unhappy men resented the degradation, without repenting of the crimes which had brought it upon them. They were ready for perjury, for they had renounced truth; and the gratification of their malice was probably a far stronger motive than the bribe for the capture of a bishop. The holy prelate was seized on the 6th December, 1679. Even Ormonde wished to have spared him, so inoffensive and peaceful had been his life. He was arraigned at the Dundalk assizes; but although every man on the grand jury was a Protestant, from whom, at least, less partiality might be expected towards him than from members of his own Church, the perjured witnesses refused to come forward. Indeed, the prelate himself had such confidence in his innocence, and in the honorable dealing of his Protestant fellow-countrymen, when their better judgment was not bewildered by fanaticism, that he declared in London he would put himself on trial in Ireland before any Protestant jury who knew him, and who knew the men who swore against him, without the slightest doubt of the result.
Jones, the Protestant Bishop of Meath, was, unfortunately for himself, influenced by fanaticism. He had served in Cromwell's army,[[510]] and had all that rancorous hatred of the Catholic Church so characteristic of the low class from whom the Puritan soldiery were drawn. He was determined that the Archbishop should be condemned; and as men could not be found to condemn him in Ireland, he induced Lord Shaftesbury to have him taken to London. The Archbishop was removed to Newgate, about the close of October, 1680, and so closely confined, that none of his friends could have access to him. He spent his time in prayer, and his gaolers were amazed at his cheerfulness and resignation. His trial took place on the 8th of June, 1681; but he was not allowed time to procure the necessary witnesses, and the court would not allow certain records to be put in, which would have proved the character of his accusers. Six of the most eminent English lawyers were arrayed against him. The legal arrangements of the times deprived him of the assistance of counsel, but they did not require the judges to help out the men who swore against him: this, however, they did do.
The prelate was condemned to die. The speech of the judge who pronounced sentence was not distinguished by any very special forensic acumen. Dr. Plunkett had been charged by the witnesses with political crimes; the judge sentenced[[511]] him for his religious convictions; and, by a process of reasoning not altogether peculiar to himself, insisted that his supposed treason was a necessary result of the faith he professed. The Archbishop suffered at Tyburn, on Friday, July 11, 1681. He went to his death rejoicing, as men go to a bridal. His dying declaration convinced his hearers of his innocence; and, perhaps, the deep regret for his martyrdom, which was felt by all but the wretches who had procured his doom, tended to still the wild storm of religious persecution, or, at least, to make men see that where conscience was dearer than life, conscientious convictions should be respected. It is at least certain, that his name was the last on the long roll of sufferers who had been executed at Tyburn for the faith. Blood was no longer exacted there as the price which men should pay for liberty of belief. It were well had that liberty been allowed by men to their fellow-men in after years, without fines or confiscations—without those social penalties, which, to a refined and sensitive mind, have in them the bitterness of death, without the consolations of martyrdom.