In the spring of 1645 Henrietta Maria sent Sir Kenelm Digby to Rome. The choice of this fantastic genius was not a happy one, and the cool-headed Italians soon found that he was not a serious diplomatist. He could show no authority from the King, and that derived from an exiled Queen, who was hated in England and not much loved in Ireland, hardly afforded security enough. He received an order for 20,000 Roman crowns to be laid out in munitions of war, and carried with him articles to which he undertook to get the royal consent. He left Rome in December for Paris, where he was to see the Queen. After that he proposed to visit the King in England and the nuncio in Ireland. He was at Nantes at the end of January and on the point of sailing for Ireland, but returned to Paris instead, whence he made his way back to Rome a few months later. ‘Let him say what he will,’ wrote Bonaventure Barron to Wadding, ‘this is certainly true that excepting going to mass, the Queen has no other religion than the Lord Jermyn’s, and that both are all agreeing in this, that while there is any hope of relieving the King by a Protestant, a Catholic shall never be admitted to his succour, and while they think the Scots can do it, the Irish shall never be admitted to a communication in the work, much less to any good conditions for our nation, which is equally hated by the King, Parliament, Scots, Queen, and Jermyn.’ This was written in May, after Charles had left Oxford on that sad journey which ended in the Scotch camp, but the learned Franciscan was well informed, and had perhaps seen some of the letters received by the Queen. In January the King had told his wife that Ireland ‘must at all times be sacrificed to save the crown of England, Montreuil assuring me that France, rather than fail, will assist me in satisfying the Scots’ arrears.’ His later letters to her are in the same spirit, and with some reason from his own point of view, he declares the Irish wanting in generosity. Colepepper about the same time pronounced Ireland to be a broken reed, and the same simile was applied at Rome to the heretics upon whom King and Queen alike were disposed to lean.[85]
Sir Kenelm Digby’s treaty.
Protestants to be excluded from office.
An Irish invasion of England.
The nuncio throws over Glamorgan,
who gives up his treaty.
Ormonde’s reflections on the business.
A copy of the articles agreed to with Digby was sent to Rinuccini early in November 1645, and reached him in due course. This paper was unsigned, and differed in some respects from the formally authenticated version entrusted to Sir Kenelm himself, but the main points were the same. Seven articles applied to Ireland, and by them the King was required to grant the free and public exercise of the Roman Catholic religion, and to restore the hierarchy, with all churches and church property. The abbey lands ‘pretended’ to have been confirmed to lay grantees by Cardinal Pole were to be left to a free Parliament, and so were the bishoprics in the King’s hands. All penal laws passed since ‘the defection of Henry VIII.’ were to be first abrogated by the King and then repealed by a free Irish Parliament, ‘independent of that of England.’ The viceroy and all the chief placeholders were to be Catholics, and all towns, including Dublin, to be placed in Catholic hands, and the King was to join his forces with those of the Confederate Catholics so as to drive the Scots and the Parliamentarians out of Ireland. When the King had done these things, ‘and whatever else Monsignor Rinuccini may add to or alter in these articles,’ the Pope would give the Queen 100,000 Roman crowns. In England all penal laws were to be repealed and all disabilities removed, and the kingdom was to be invaded by 12,000 infantry under Irish chiefs, who were to be assisted by at least 2,500 English cavalry with Catholic officers. As soon as a landing and junction had been effected the Pope was to pay his money in twelve monthly instalments, a like sum to be paid in the second and third year if circumstances justified it. By an article added afterwards six months were given for the ratification of the Irish articles, and ten for the English, ‘after which his Holiness will not be bound by his present promise.’ Rinuccini received this document in February while the General Assembly was sitting at Kilkenny. Glamorgan, not without some wry faces and much to the disgust of his friends, at once agreed to abandon his own treaty and to adopt Sir Kenelm Digby’s. It was an excuse for delay that the original had not yet come to hand, and that was the nuncio’s main object. Glamorgan was reminded that he had exceeded his instructions, that he had talked at Dublin about what he had orders to keep secret, that he had spoken of using an Irish army to force the King’s hand, and in short that he could only cast off his load of responsibility by submitting to the Pope. It was evident that he could do nothing by himself, and that his promises had melted into air, ‘Lord Digby having declared that the Protestants would rather throw the King out of window than permit his Majesty to confirm them.’ Speaking in the assembly Rinuccini said that Glamorgan’s treaty was worthless because its confirmation depended on the will of another, and that the Roman treaty was every way preferable. Both were really waste paper, and everyone at Kilkenny knew it except the clergy and the clericals. Ormonde reminded Glamorgan that the chief object of the peace was to relieve Chester, and that could not be done unless troops were sent at once. To this the poor man answered that the Queen’s powerful hand effaced the ‘clandestine hopes’ of his own endeavours. A burnt child, he said, dreads the fire, and he would most willingly leave treaty-making to the Lord Lieutenant, who could not as ‘a great and public minister of State and real Protestant’ appear publicly, but who might give a hint to his friends at Kilkenny to deal with the nuncio. For himself he proposed to raise 100,000l. in Catholic countries, which was impossible if the Pope were ‘irritated,’ or the nuncio ‘disgusted.’ Rinuccini, he added, had agreed to let 3000 men go at once for the relief of Chester, and he believed shipping could be readily had. When this was written Chester had fallen, and a rumour had reached Ormonde when he penned an answer in his best manner. ‘My Lord,’ he said, ‘my affections and interests are so tied to his Majesty’s cause that it were madness in me to disgust any man that hath power and inclination to relieve him, in the sad condition he is in, and therefore your Lordship may securely go on in the ways you have proposed to yourself to serve the King without fear of interruption from me, or so much as inquiring into the means you work by.’ For himself he had a commission to treat with the Confederates, and he intended to do so without venturing ‘upon any new negotiation foreign to the powers he had received.’ In the meantime the proposed succours were likely to be too late.[86]
Glamorgan’s oath of fealty.
Conclusion of peace.