In their published utterances the bishops were careful to say nothing alarming to Protestants, and to lay stress upon the royalism or loyalty of those for whom they spoke. In writing to Rome they were silent about the King, but urged the necessity of union among Catholics. Ormonde, who had no illusions, thought it much that there had been no public demand for his own removal; but this too was to come later. He knew that Antrim had been intriguing to obtain such a declaration, and he begged the King to recall him before his position became quite untenable. Charles directed him to hold on as long as possible, and to leave Ireland when he was finally convinced that nothing more could be done.[166]
Cromwell’s Declaration, Jan. 1649-1650.
Liberty of conscience.
The laws of war.
Cromwell misunderstood Ireland.
The printed proceedings of the Clonmacnoise prelates reached Cromwell at Youghal, and he lost no time in answering it. The task of uniting clergy and laity, he said, was only necessary because the distinction had been invented by ‘the Antichristian Church’ of Rome, and maintained by her priests as the foundation of their own power. Their royalism was a ‘fig-leaf of pretence,’ whereas they really fought for their own supremacy. Cromwell had a right to say that they began the war, but he much exaggerated the goodness of the terms on which English and Irish had lived before the outbreak. No doubt there were some friendships, but all competent observers had long realised that the Ulster settlement would be disturbed whenever the children of the dispossessed natives had the chance. As to liberty of conscience, he took his stand upon the purely English ground that the mass had long been prohibited by law, and that he could not extirpate what had no root. He reiterated his statement to the governor of Ross and said plainly, ‘I shall not, where I have power, and the Lord is pleased to bless me, suffer the exercise of the mass where I can take notice of it.... As for the people, what thoughts they have in matters of religion in their own breasts I cannot reach; but think it my duty if they walk honestly and peaceably, not to cause them in the least to suffer for the same.’ He defended the raising of money by mortgaging lands which rebels would forfeit, but denied that there was any intention to extirpate the people. He defied anyone to give an instance since his arrival in Ireland of ‘one man not in arms, massacred, destroyed, or banished’ with impunity. Those who had been exiled to the West Indies were all in fact liable to be put to the sword according to the laws of war. All who had not been actors in the rebellion should be spared and protected. ‘And having said this,’ he concluded, ‘and purposing honestly to perform it,—if this people shall headily run on after the counsels of their prelates and clergy and other leaders, I hope to be free from the misery and desolation and blood and ruin that shall befall them; and shall rejoice to exercise utmost severity against them.’ Cromwell’s ideas about toleration were in advance of his age, but his knowledge of Ireland before 1641 was derived from the published histories of May and Temple.[167]
Lady Fanshawe at Cork, Nov. 1649.
When Lady Fanshawe joined her husband, a few weeks before Cromwell’s landing, she found Cork an agreeable place of residence enough, and so it remained for about six months. She lived in the old Augustinian Friary called the Red Abbey, which then belonged to Michael Boyle, Dean of Cloyne, who vied with Inchiquin and Roscommon in civility to her. She calls the latter Lord Chancellor, but he is not generally included in the list. ‘My Lord of Ormonde had a very good army, and the country was seemingly quiet.’ And so it continued outwardly for some time, though Inchiquin’s power had been gradually wasting away since Rathmines. Suddenly one night, at the beginning of November, Lady Fanshawe was roused from her bed by the sound of cannon, and by screams and cries outside. Opening the window, she saw a crowd, who informed her that they were ‘all Irish stripped and wounded and turned out of the town by Colonel Jeffries.’ Hurrying off to the Colonel she reminded him of her husband’s former civilities to him, which he handsomely acknowledged, and at once granted a free pass. She passed ‘through thousands of naked swords’ with her family, 1000l. in cash and other light property, and got to Kinsale where she was safe for the moment. Cromwell was much annoyed at Fanshawe’s papers having thus escaped him.[168]
Cromwell’s campaign in the South, Jan.-March, 1650.
Surrender of Fethard, Feb. 3.