The hint was given and taken, and Lord Ormonde left England accordingly. A short time elapsed, when one day Lady Ormonde was much distressed at receiving a domiciliary visit from one of Cromwell’s functionaries, who ransacked the house, and carried away every paper he could find. She immediately sent for her faithful friend, and besought him to intercede once more in her behalf. Broghill lost no time; he hurried off to Whitehall, and found the autocrat in a towering passion. ‘You have undertaken, indeed,’ he said, ‘for the quietness of a fine person. I have allowed my Lady Ormonde £2000 a year out of her husband’s estates, because they were sufferers in Ireland. But I find she is a wicked woman, and I promise you she shall pay for it.’ It was some time before Lord Broghill could gain a hearing, but when he was permitted to speak, he asked what proof could be adduced of Lady Ormonde’s guilt, upon which Cromwell threw him a letter, that certainly left no doubt of the writer’s Royalist tendencies and disaffection to the existing Government. ‘This was found,’ said the Protector, ‘in searching the escritoire at Lord Ormonde’s house.’ Lord Broghill could not help laughing. ‘But this,’ he observed, ‘is not the writing of my Lady Ormonde.’ ‘Indeed,’ rejoined Cromwell angrily, ‘and pray who wrote these lines?’ Bent on saving his friends, Lord Broghill not only explained the letter was from Lady Isabella Thynne (between whom and Lord Ormonde there had been undoubted love passages), but he produced some other letters from the same lady to identify the handwriting, and further proceeded to relate several anecdotes of a most lively nature respecting her, which turned all Cromwell’s wrath into merriment, and he laughed immoderately. Broghill’s judicious conduct had gained his friends’ cause.
We have forestalled events in order to finish the romance of which Lady Isabella Thynne was the heroine, and we must now turn back to the year 1629, being that of the marriage. Lord Thurles took his bride to the house of his maternal uncle, in Gloucestershire, where they remained a year, and then proceeded to Carrick, in Ireland, where his grandfather lived, and where he began his military career by purchasing a troop of horse. He went to Scotland, and then to England, and succeeding to the title of Ormonde on Earl Walter’s death, returned to Ireland in 1633. There he began a life of activity, which never ceased from that time forward. Many passages in Carte’s Life of the ‘great Duke’ tend to confirm our previous remark, that Irish history, more than that of any other nation, verifies the saying, ‘Que l’histoire se répète.’
Great were the expectations raised all over the kingdom, in 1623, of important matters to be done on the coming over of a new Lord-Deputy, endowed with a larger measure of authority, etc. This was Lord Wentworth, who arrived in Dublin in July 1633. Lord Ormonde did not delay to repair thither, in order to pay his respects to my Lord Wentworth, who, chancing to observe him from a window, as he was crossing the Castle-yard, observed to the standers-by, ‘If I possess any skill in physiognomy, that young man will be the chief of his family.’
At the outset of their acquaintance, an incident occurred which threatened to make a breach between these two high spirits, but, instead thereof, cemented a friendship, which was only terminated by the untimely death of Lord Strafford. During the session of the Irish Parliament, the Lord-Deputy had found it advisable to prohibit the Lords wearing their swords, lest, in the heat of argument, they might have recourse to sharper weapons than those of eloquence. The order was obeyed in every instance, save that of my Lord Ormonde, who, when the Usher of the Black Rod insisted on his disarming, replied angrily, marching on in a stately manner, and taking his seat in the House, ‘You shall have no sword of mine, except through your body.’ On being summoned before the Lord-Deputy for this open act of insubordination, he proudly drew forth the King’s warrant for his admission to the Privy Council. The Lord-Deputy was satisfied, and the two noblemen became fast friends. When evil days fell on Strafford, and the Irish Parliament joined the English in hastening his downfall, Lord Ormonde pleaded his cause in the Upper House with so much reason and eloquence as to bias a considerable party in Strafford’s favour, at least for a time. The letters which passed between them during the latter’s imprisonment were couched in the most affectionate terms. Writing from the Tower, the captive tells his friend that he has recommended him to the King for the Lord-Deputyship of Ireland; and later he writes: ‘There is so little rest given to me, my noble Lord, that I have scarce time to eat my bread. Your Lordship’s favours to me in my afflictions are such as have and shall level my heart at your foot so long as I live.’
On the eve of his execution, Strafford intrusted Archbishop Usher with some last requests to the King, amongst which was the earnest hope that the Earl of Ormonde should have his vacant Garter. The offer was made; but Lord Ormonde declined, saying that his loyalty needed no such stimulus, and that the honour might be more advantageously bestowed for the King’s service.
At the breaking out of the Irish rebellion, the King wished to appoint him Lord-Deputy, but was overruled by the Parliament, which had resolved on Lord Leicester. He was however selected by the Lords-Justices in Ireland for the chief command of the forces in that country. The appointment was an excellent one. He was successful against the rebels for a considerable period, and his services were (for a time) duly appreciated by the English Commons, who voted a large sum of money to purchase him a jewel of great value. They also recommended him to the King for the Garter, an honour that was bestowed later on a most deserving knight. Ormonde was indeed as chivalrous as he was brave, keeping good faith with his savage adversaries; and a noble answer given by him is worthy to be recorded here. One of the native chiefs threatened to take reprisals on Lady Ormonde and his family. ‘My wife and dear ones,’ said the General, ‘are in your power; but for myself, I should never be dastardly enough to revenge any offence they received on the women and children of my enemies.’
After a while his popularity began to wane, and he became a mark for jealousy and calumny on both sides of St. George’s Channel. The Lords-Justices thwarted him in his campaigns, and stinted him in supplies, and the Lord-Deputy Leicester never let slip an opportunity of doing him an evil turn, both in public and private. The King, however, remained his staunch friend, and wrote him a most flattering letter, renewing his command of the army, and raising him to the grade of a Marquis. The account of the Irish rebellion would, and indeed has, filled many a large volume, and concerns history rather than biography. We cannot do more than glance at events, in which Lord Ormonde himself bore so distinguished a part. After giving the most striking proofs of valour, patriotism, and loyalty in his encounters with the insurgents, under difficulties of almost unparalleled hardship, want of supplies, provisions, and the like, he found himself compelled to agree to a cessation of arms for twelve months. The news of this treaty was received with much disapprobation in England, and was represented by the enemies of Ormonde and of the King, as ‘an unseasonable and unnecessary concession;’ but Charles was duly impressed with the honour and ability of his faithful servant, and resolved to make him Lord-Lieutenant in the stead of Lord Leicester. The gallant General was unwilling to accept the post, but was persuaded to do so, ‘without much hope, indeed, of serving the Crown, or remedying many of the disorders.’
During his tenure of office, political and religious factions were at their height in this most unhappy country, and intrigues on both sides of St. George’s Channel were carried on against the Lord-Lieutenant, paralysing his efforts, till he had no choice but to conclude a peace,—a peace that was no peace. Conspiracies of all kinds were hatched,—and one in particular was discovered, the aim of which was to seize the person of Lord Ormonde in his own castle of Kilkenny, whence he escaped with much difficulty to Dublin, where he was besieged by the insurgents. He held out till all his supplies were exhausted, and he had lost every hope of redress. The King was a prisoner in the hands of the Roundheads, who had sent over Commissioners to Ireland; there was no choice left for Ormonde but to surrender to the Irish, or English rebels. He chose the latter alternative, and, delivering up the keys to the Commissioners, embarked for England, followed by the prayers and good wishes of the well-affected among the citizens, but more especially of the poorer clergy, whose wives and children had been saved from starvation by his bounty and that of his excellent wife. He reached England, went first to Iron Acton, gained a pass from General Fairfax which gave him access to the King (then a prisoner in his own palace of Hampton Court), and hired a lodging at Kingston-on-Thames, in order to remain in the vicinity. He had frequent intercourse with his Royal master, who fully appreciated all his devoted friend and subject had dared and done for his service, and reiterated his opinion that no one else was qualified to fill the post of Viceroy of Ireland. But this view of the case did not fall in with the notions of those in authority, and Ormonde received intimation to the effect that it would be advisable for him to leave England, which he accordingly did, and, crossing to Dieppe, proceeded to Paris, to join the Queen, Henrietta Maria, and the Prince of Wales.
While residing in the French capital, Lord Ormonde kept up a continuous correspondence with the loyalists in Scotland, and more especially with the influential leaders in Ireland. There had existed a feud between the Lords Ormonde and Inchiquin and Lord Broghill, General of the Horse, but it was not difficult to bring about a reconciliation between three devoted servants of the Crown. Lord Ormonde was at length prevailed on by the wishes of the Queen and Prince, as also by the earnest solicitations of the Royalists in Ireland, to return to that country, and resume his post as Lord-Lieutenant. He had, during his stay in Paris, entered into communication with many leading members of the Roman Catholic religion, with a view to a pacification between the two opposing creeds on his return, and had also endeavoured to raise at the French Court a sufficient sum to insure him proper supplies; but in this respect he was wofully disappointed, and he landed in Cork with the miserable sum of thirty French pistoles in his military chest.
Everything was against him in Dublin,—the hands of the Parliamentarians, Cromwell’s emissaries spread far and wide over the country, while Prince Rupert, who commanded a Royalist fleet on the coast, was less assistance than detriment to the cause, from his unceasing jealousy and rivalry of other officials. The news of the King’s execution was received with consternation by his partisans in Scotland and Ireland, and with profound grief by Lord Ormonde, who caused the Prince of Wales to be instantly proclaimed, and wrote off to him urging the advisability of his coming over in person,—a scheme which was not carried out. The Lord-Lieutenant was now engaged in negotiations of a pacific nature with the so-called ‘old Irish party’ (headed by Phelim O’Neill, and other leading Roman Catholics), and he concentrated all his energies on gaining possession of Dublin. But the death of O’Neill, the arrival of Cromwell with a large body of troops, and the number of desertions, all conduced to render his position untenable. He only waited for the King’s sanction to leave Ireland, and once more embarked for France, where, after a most tempestuous voyage, he joined his wife and children at Caen, and passed many months between that temporary home and Paris, where he finally joined the king, as a regular attendant, after Charles’s escape from the battle of Worcester.