Question of prohibiting Irish cattle.
The plague followed the Court to Salisbury and drove Charles to Oxford, where Parliament sat for three weeks in October 1665. Clarendon says that the members, for want of time and fear of contagion, ‘rejected all other businesses but what immediately related to the public,’ one of which was the atrocious Five-mile Act. Ormonde had hoped that the restrictions on Irish cattle might be repealed, but quite a contrary spirit prevailed, and a Bill for total prohibition passed the House of Commons. The first Act had been freely evaded, and a much more stringent one was called for. The King had no wish to be unjust unless it was very inconvenient to be just, and the Lords, not being subjected to Court pressure, held the Bill over until the prorogation. When the Houses met for business at Westminster nearly a year later, the question soon came up again. Pepys says the Prohibition Bill was the work of the western members, ‘wholly against the sense of most of the rest of the House; who think if you do this, you give the Irish again cause to rebel.’ The event, however, showed that the majority was the other way, and that it included the northern counties, but others, particularly Norfolk, Suffolk, and Kent, whose business it was to feed, and not to breed, made the Irish cattle welcome. The larger towns, whose interest it was to have cheap meat, had little power, and both landlords and farmers were generally against Ireland, the former because they thought low prices affected their revenue, and the latter because their produce was subjected to competition. Sir William Coventry, whose character was much better than that of most contemporary public men, threw his weight into the scale against Ireland, persuading the King that he would get no supply if the Commons were thwarted, that their fury would soon burn itself out, and that the rejection of the Bill could then easily be compassed in the House of Lords. Coventry’s judgment was certainly not infallible, for it was his advice that made the Chatham disaster possible. But Clarendon was strongly opposed to the Cattle Bill, and animosity towards him may have affected the action of the younger statesman. Finch, the Solicitor-General, eloquently opposed the Bill at every stage, and Anglesey was sent to London to present the case of the Irish Government against it.[65]
Irish cattle worse than starvation.
The fire of London was a calamity of such proportions as in modern times would arouse the sympathy and perhaps excite the generosity of the whole civilised world. Ninety years later England gave 100,000l. to the sufferers from the Lisbon earthquake. Even in 1666 it was natural that Ireland should wish to help, and it was proposed to send over 30,000 head of ‘our proper and indeed our only coin.’ Instead of receiving the thanks of the House of Commons, this gift inflamed its fury, and was looked upon as a trick. The houseless citizens begged that they might be allowed to enjoy the supply, but the cavalier squires reviled them for their selfishness, and the pressure upon the reluctant Lords was increased. With much difficulty the Commons were induced to allow the importation in the form of salt beef, but under such restrictions that the city was not likely to profit much. Buckingham, who had neither conscience nor shame, and whose own rents had been reduced, saw that popularity was to be gained at the expense of Ireland, and Ashley, who knew better, found his account in fanning the flame. He excused himself in private by saying that he was in favour of a legislative union under which neither island would have power to hurt the other. In debate the Achitophel of Dryden’s great satire could find no better argument than that the rejection of the Bill would cause Irish rents to rise as those of England fell, and that the Duke of Ormonde would soon be richer than the Earl of Northumberland. Ormonde’s prosperity might indeed excite the envy of many who did not choose to remember that his loyalty had endured exile and penury while they lived at home at ease under the Protector. Some thought that Ashley was anxious to be Lord Lieutenant himself, but of this there does not seem to be much evidence. Ossory, whose temper was hot, and who was enduring great provocation, reproached the future Chancellor with having been one of Cromwell’s counsellors, for which he had to apologise in the House of Lords; but most readers of history will nevertheless sympathise with him.[66]
The Duke of Buckingham hated the Chancellor, who stood in his way. He also hated and envied Ormonde, whose fiery son resented his insinuations, so that lookers on foretold a quarrel. At last Buckingham said in debate that anyone who opposed the Cattle Bill must have an Irish estate or an Irish understanding. Mindful of the mistake he had made in Ashley’s case, Ossory forebore to answer, but a conversation outside led to a challenge, which Buckingham accepted, though he was thought to have taken good care that there should be no meeting. Ossory denied that he had intended to fight on account of words spoken in the House; Arlington and the Duke of York, who were both interested in Irish land, testified that the quarrel was of long standing. The challenger was sent to the Tower and his adversary committed to Black Rod’s custody, but they were soon released. Buckingham’s arrogance at this time was such that he suffered detention a few days later for a scuffle with the irascible Lord Dorchester in the House itself. Ormonde admitted that the Lords had dealt fairly with his son, and thanked Arlington for taking a friendly part in the matter.[67]
Irish cattle voted a public nuisance.
The Bill as introduced applied to Scotland as well as to Ireland, but this was altered after much discussion, and the final struggle was as to whether Irish cattle should be declared a nuisance. The word was insisted on by the Commons because it was thought likely to secure strict administration, since the King could not very well favour what he had himself declared to be a public nuisance. There were many conferences between the two Houses, but the Commons stood stubbornly by the obnoxious term. The Lords were willing to join in a petition to the King not to grant any licences, but the Lower House, by 116 to 57, voted to adhere to their word. If Charles had remained firm, he might have carried the peers with him, but he wanted money too badly. Some advised a dissolution, but he could hardly hope for a better House of Commons than one which contained nearly a hundred placemen and pensioners, and which was still stirred by the loyal tempest of 1660. Having been at first the strongest opponent of the Bill, he became its most strenuous supporter. Sir George Carteret, the King’s Vice-Chamberlain, was thought to have been chiefly instrumental in converting his master, who made it a personal matter with peers to swallow the word Nuisance, his conduct, in Clarendon’s words, ‘giving those who loved him not great argument of triumph, and those who loved him very passionately, much matter of mortification.’ Between fear and favour the Lords yielded, and four days later the Bill became law. The Poll Bill, which was the price of the King’s surrender, received his assent at the same time. Charles soon prorogued Parliament, telling the Commons that their session had borne little fruit, and that it was high time for them to be in the country. Eight peers protested against the Irish Bill, chiefly on the ground that the importation of cattle was no nuisance, and that the word was professedly introduced to limit the dispensing power, ‘a just, necessary, and ancient prerogative inherent in the Crown,’ as a means of dealing with unforeseen emergencies.[68]
Irish cattle totally prohibited