Essex can do little or nothing.
After Smith’s death Essex could do little but bemoan his hard fate and confess that the people, ‘to increase their own plague, had refused her Majesty’s mercies.’ The causes of failure he thus sums up: ‘Two great disadvantages I find in this little time of my continuance here. The first by the adventurers, of whom the most part, not having forgotten the delicacies of England, and wanting resolute minds to endure the travail of a year or two in this waste country, have forsaken me, feigning excuses to repair home, where I hear they give forth speeches in dislike of the enterprise to the discouragement of others. The second, that the common hired soldiers, both horsemen and footmen, mislike of their pay, and allege that they were not pressed by commission but by persuasion, and therefore ought not to be detained in this service longer than they like to stay. This is not hidden from the Irish, who also are fully persuaded that this war is altogether mine, alleging that if it were your Majesty’s, it should be executed by the Lord Deputy, being your chief general here; and therefore thinking that I must be in a short time wearied with the charge, have confederated to stand in arms, which they would never do with your Majesty unless it were in respect of me, whereby I must acknowledge the weakness of myself, and so consequently of any subject that shall attempt any great service, and therein part with his prince either honour or profit. Therefore my humble petition is, that, albeit the moiety of the charge be mine, according to my covenant with your Majesty, that yet some means may be devised that all the officers, soldiers, and dealers in this war may seem to be your Majesty’s; the war yours, and the reformation your Majesty’s, and I only the instrument and executor of this service; whereby all men shall either put on better contentations and new courages, or else I with better warrant may punish the mutiny and the base ignobility of the soldiers’ minds.’[260]
Falstaffian recruits.
The Devon and Somerset men, under Captain Burrowes, showed a particularly craven spirit, and began to desert at the prospect of active service. Essex hanged a few without much effect, for they preferred both starving and hanging to fighting. This is not surprising when we consider how they were recruited. The Privy Council directed the Western gentlemen to call for volunteers, and in default of a response to press those whom the country could best spare. Of course they sent all the greatest blackguards.
The Irish profess to regard Essex as a mere private person.
Captain Thomas Wilsford, who saw clearly how matters stood, reported that the Irish were actuated ‘by despair to farm any part of their lands. They affirm they are no rebels, for that they say it is not the Queen’s wars, and that they do but defend their own lands and goods.’ The English, moreover, were unwarlike, ‘through the fat, delicate soil and long peace at home,’ and unable to cope with the Irish, who, while retaining their native hardiness, had become skilled in the use of weapons. The task was too great for any but the Queen, though Essex was one to go through with his undertaking even at the cost of his earldom. He ‘shot not at the gain and revenue of the matter, but rather for the honour and credit of the cause.’ It is not in this poetic fashion that flourishing colonies have been founded, nor was the Earl himself sanguine, for he sent a trusty messenger to England with a detailed account of his troubles; and indeed nothing could be worse than the aspect of affairs, especially after the escape of Desmond had made it hopeless to expect help from the Pale.[261]
Appeal to Fitzwilliam against him.
Essex could do nothing against the enemy, but some whom he considered lukewarm friends were more within his power. Piers, being accused of giving information to Sir Brian, was closely imprisoned and treated with excessive harshness, though there does not appear to have been any evidence against him. Nor was Fitzwilliam spared, for the Irish very reasonably held that if the war was the Queen’s the army should be led by the Queen’s Deputy, and it is probable that that experienced officer was of the same opinion himself. Essex professed readiness to serve under him as a private adventurer, but in the meantime accused him of encouraging libels against Burghley and himself. ‘He could be contented to hear me ill spoken of openly in his chamber by his own servants, and he to show countenance, as though he took pleasure in his man’s words ... he can be contented to sit in his chair and smile; and because I see further that all the Irish messengers of Ulster are daily with his lordship and I no way made privy to their petitions, or causes of their coming thither, I conclude that underhand many things may pass to my disadvantage, for already, whatsoever I require at any Irishman’s hands, he appealeth to the Lord Deputy.’[262] Captain Wilsford thought that Ulster was about the quietest part of Ireland, and it is likely that Fitzwilliam, besides a not unnatural jealousy, thought it extremely unreasonable that with the scanty forces at his disposal he should be in any way called upon to advance the Northern enterprise.
The Marward abduction case.
The carrying off of the Fitzpatrick ladies had created much stir at the English Court, on account of the high position of the victims. That, however, was in a remote part of the country, and the captives were detained as hostages only. The story of an abduction of the day throws more light upon the state of society than any number of political disquisitions. Janet Marward, heiress and titular baroness of Skryne in Meath, a manor worth some 200l. a year, was a royal ward, and the Queen gave her wardship to Fitzwilliam, who sold it to her stepfather, Nicholas Nugent, second Baron of the Exchequer. Her mother, besides being married to a judge, was the daughter of a judge, John Plunket, Chief Justice of the Queen’s Bench. Nugent sold the unfortunate girl to his nephew, the Baron of Delvin’s brother. ‘Afterwards, by procurement of the mother, the maid, being but eleven years old, was made to mislike of Nugent and to like of the young Lord of Dunsany, being of the Plunkets, whereupon there fell great discord between the Houses of Delvin and Dunsany, and the maid being by her mother and father-in-law brought into this city as the safest place to keep her, on Friday last at night about twelve o’clock the Baron of Delvin’s brother, accompanied with a number of armed men, the watch being either negligent or corrupted, entered one of the postern gates of the city with twenty swords and entered by sleight into the house where the maid lay, and forcibly carried her away, to the great terror of the mother and of all the rest.’ William Nugent married the heiress without her own consent or that of her friends. But we may hope that in time she got to ‘like of’ her lawless husband tolerably well, for when he was in prison for conspiracy nine years after it is recorded that she sent him some shirts. With such things going on under the very shadow of Dublin Castle, it is no wonder that Fitzwilliam should clamour for recall or that he should regret the hard fate of his three marriageable daughters, who were losing their time in Ireland. Had they been heiresses and royal wards their lot might have been still harder.[263]