The mission of Edward Fitzgerald in Munster having had no very favourable result, the Queen rebuked Fitzwilliam sharply for giving him orders, contrary to her instructions, ‘to deal and negotiate with the Earl of Desmond as sent from us, whereas contrariwise our meaning was that he privately, as a kinsman, should have repaired unto him by your license, not by our direction; ... for as the matter is now handled, we think ourselves touched in honour, for that the Earl may have cause to think that we should now seek upon him—a thing very unfitting for the place and quality we hold.’ The harassed Deputy, who had himself the worst opinions of Desmond’s intentions, lamented his hard fate, and sent Sir James Dowdall, Second Justice of the Queen’s Bench, to remind the Earl that there was a government in Ireland. He had no force to coerce, though the Queen taunted him with his indolence, and there were constant rumours of invasion, requiring in his opinion the presence of men of war on the coasts of Cork and Kerry. Dowdall’s letters remained long unanswered, and he lay idly at Clonmel listening to reports which he knew were too vague to be worth forwarding. Justice Walshe, in whose single person the government or non-government of Munster for the moment centred, furnished Burghley with a long list of Desmond’s misdeeds. He had spoiled the Sheriff of Limerick and threatened to cut his tongue out for complaining. All sorts flocked to him, finding it easier and cheaper to rob than to work and be robbed. Desmond gave out that there should be no law but Brehon law between Geraldines. James Fitzmaurice was moving very suspiciously, and had been accepted as chief by the Ryans of Owney, a wild country bordering on the Shannon. The MacSheeheys, or Desmond gallowglasses, had taken the Mayor of Limerick and kept him in pawn for one of their number who was the Queen’s hostage. But the most daring act of all was the apprehension of Captain Bourchier, who was attacked on the high-road near Kilmallock, and driven into a castle belonging to the Sheriff of Limerick. James Fitzmaurice hurried to the spot with a strong force, took him out, and gave him in custody to a personal enemy, Edmund Fitzdavy, who treated him so cruelly that he was ready to put an end to himself.[280]
Opinions of English residents.
An English resident at Waterford, who had held some sort of commission, lamented over Perrott’s departure, and the consequent revolt of Munster to her ‘monstrous Irish fashion.’ He thought it would have been better for Desmond to suffer the decent restraints of enforced residence in Dublin, than such liberty as he enjoyed in the South. Irish colts could only be bridled with a sharp English bit; Bellingham and Sidney, Gilbert and Perrott, being the fittest riders hitherto. He said very truly that long impunity had introduced universal laxity, and had made conspiracy the most attractive of occupations.[281] One pardoned malefactor bred a hundred more. Every debtor ran off to the woods, and in his character of rebel soon received a pardon. Law-abiding had become a matter of indenture. The writer, who was learned, had a theory, probably derived from Greek history, that islanders were naturally turbulent, and cited Cicero and Aristotle as authorities for the argument that severity was the best cure for laxity, and that valiance was necessary for the government of barbarous nations. Another Englishman of a less classical or more Puritanical turn thought the Irish could be starved out by taking or destroying the herds upon whose milk they fed. He added that there could not be a greater sacrifice to God.[282]
Kilmallock threatened. Spanish intrigues.
Desmond had guns taken at Castlemaine, and it was feared that neither Cork, Galway, nor Kinsale were safe. The chiefs were supposed to have decided that if a President came each would overthrow his own castle and take to the field. Five hundred ladders and a quantity of sapping tools had been collected within easy reach of Kilmallock. Stukeley and Archbishop Fitzgibbon were in Brittany consulting with the leaguers. Catholic intriguers were as busy as ever in Spain, and a servant in Desmond’s livery had been seen at the Spanish Court. Among some thirty English and Irish Catholics of note who were in Spain about this time were Stukeley and Fitzgibbon, Rowland Turner, William Walshe, Papal Bishop of Meath, and Dr. Nicholas Sanders, who was destined to play a greater part than any of them in Irish history. Philip lavished great sums upon them, and was besides said to spend 23,000 ducats a year in Flanders in the same way.[283]
Fitzwilliam is almost desperate.
Stung by the Queen’s taunts, Fitzwilliam determined to undertake military operations in Munster with such forces as he could command—that is, with about 800 men badly fed and paid. As a last chance of peace he resolved to consult Essex, who at once came to Dublin, whence he despatched the following letter to Desmond:—
Essex and Desmond.
‘My Lord,—I understand my cousin, George Bourchier, in his going to Kilmallock, where his band lay, is by some of your men taken and hurt stealthily, and most straitly kept in prison. Sorry I am, my lord, that the gentleman should be so handled as I hear he is. But truly I am more sorry that you should give her Majesty cause to conceive so ill with you as this dealing of yours I fear will give her occasion. Let me reason, and as I think you have store of ill-counsellors, who hiss you on to that which is evil, whom daily you hear and I fear do too much credit unto, so hear, withal, the advice of those which wish the well-wishing of you, and the continuance of your house in honour, of which company, I assure you, I am one. What do you desire, or what is the mark you shoot at? Is it to the enjoyance of your inheritance and country that you seek? If it is that this may satisfy you, there is no seeking to put you from it; and if any contempt or fault of you hath in your own opinion brought it in question, her Majesty, as hath been written to you from thence, is content to pardon you. What should move you, then, to seek war, when in peace and with honour you may enjoy all that is your right? If you have in your head to catch at a further matter, think it is the very highway to make you with dishonour to lose that which with honour in true serving of their Prince your ancestors have gotten and long enjoyed. My lord, consider well of this, and look into the case deeply and give care unto the sound and faithful counsel of your friends, and stop the ears from hearkening unto them which seek by their wicked counsel to destroy yourself and to overthrow your house. Let not the enemies have the occasion to triumph at your decay, refuse not her Majesty’s favour when she is content to grant it to you, lest you seek it when it will be denied. Surely in my opinion her Majesty had rather to erect many such houses as yours is, than to be the overthrow of yours, although it be through your own default and folly. And to procure this her Majesty hath offered as much of her clemency to you, as with honour she might do to her subjects. I have shortly showed you my opinion of your case, and given my best advice, I pray you follow it. I will conclude with my earnest request to your lordship for the delivery of my cousin George Bourchier. So wishing that you follow good counsellors and not flatter yourself with the opinion of your force, which to contend with her Majesty is nothing, I end and commit your lordship to God.’