Want of money was the main reason that the Government was weak; and corruption, while it enriched individuals, woefully impoverished the State. Registers and records were tampered with—a very old complaint in Ireland—merchants defrauded the revenue, and Custom-house officers winked at their roguery. Victuallers not being sure of payment had little credit, failed to perform their contracts, and were tempted into doubtful courses. The courts of law were distrusted, at least by English residents; one of whom gives the following account of the Irish Bench and Bar:—
‘Mr. Lucas Dillon and one or two more excepted, the rest of the champering lawyers whereof there be no small number, are little better to be accounted than junior barristers in the Court of Chancery; who, having read a little of Littleton’s "Natura Brevium," within a few years think themselves sufficient to plead at any Bar, and must as the room falleth void be her Majesty’s servants, attorney or else solicitor, and so they babble and brag out matters, right or wrong, at their pleasure without controlment, especially if the cause toucheth one of their cousins.’[302]
Kildare is vehemently suspected and arrested.
Desmond was quiet for the time, but the head of the other great Geraldine family was now suspected in his turn. In 1574 Kildare had been in great apparent favour with the Lord Deputy. He had offered Desmond 500l. in ready money to assume a submissive attitude, and it was thought that the best way to secure the Pale was to place him in command on the south and west borders, on condition that he should discharge his own followers and trust entirely to 100 horse and 300 foot in the Queen’s pay. Fitzwilliam, who admitted that he only accepted the Earl’s service for want of a better, had soon reason to believe that he had treasonable or at least dangerous intentions. John Alen, an hereditary enemy, was the first accuser, and when it became known that complaints would be listened to, there was no want of secret information. Some of the accusations were probably true, others almost certainly false. It is very likely that Kildare gave secret intelligence to Rory Oge O’More, but incredible that he should have plotted with him the abduction of Lady Fitzwilliam and her family from Kilmainham. He evidently had frequent communications with the O’Tooles and O’Byrnes, and it was sworn that one of his messengers offered to lead a party to burn Athy, where the Government had large stores. The witness objecting that the Earl would be a loser by this, the other answered, ‘It is the Earl’s own devise.’ Much evidence, reaching back to 1572, was offered as to Kildare’s plots to obtain the government as his ancestors had it, and of outrages committed at his instance; but no one dared speak openly. Sir Peter Carew’s opinion, ‘that Earls were dangerous men to be dealt with,’ was probably generally accepted in Ireland. Suspicions were soon aroused, and the Queen very properly censured Fitzwilliam for trusting such matters to a secretary. His own or the Archbishop’s hand might have sufficed. To encourage witnesses it was resolved to arrest Kildare, but the intention became known beforehand, and all important documents were made away with. After much hesitation the duty was assigned to Essex, who had no difficulty in making the arrest, but had his doubts about its policy. ‘You must,’ he said, ‘take heed that you transfer not the greatness of some to make it trouble in some other, so were the second error worse than the first.’ Short as was his confinement in Dublin Castle, Kildare managed to have interviews there with Edmund Boy, who was one of his chief accusers, and so worked upon his feelings that he made his escape. Richard Fitzgerald, another important witness, was hanged by Feagh MacHugh O’Byrne. On arriving in London a few days later, Kildare was placed in seclusion under the charge of Lord Keeper Bacon; ‘his cause,’ said Ormonde, ‘will make the Earl of Desmond a melancholy man.’ The Irish Government believed that there would be no evidence until Kildare was fairly in the Tower.[303]
Uncertainties. Sidney daily expected.
Fitzwilliam’s constant prayers for a recall had not been unheard, but it was difficult to find a successor for him, since it had been resolved that Essex should not be Lord Deputy. Sidney had been expected as early as July 1574, but he was in no hurry to start. Waterhouse had gone from Ulster to England towards the end of 1573, and had laid before the Privy Council the requests of Essex, especially as to the necessity of erecting fortifications and providing properly for provisioning the troops. ‘A lack of good foresight’ in high quarters was the fault which Waterhouse saw most clearly, and he complained that it was hard to get attention for the most necessary business. Statesmen pleaded that they were too busy with Desmond to mind anything else, ‘wherein they travel so far southward that they have lost sight of the North Pole.’ Various schemes were discussed. Some were for leaving Fitzwilliam at his post and giving him for a time the assistance of a military officer of high rank, who might pacify the country and then leave it to the Deputy. Others were for at least three Presidents independent of the chief Governor; ‘to breed a certain virtuous envy in these monarchs, who should do her Majesty best service.’ Others, again, were for trusting Irish lords, such as Ormonde and Kildare, leaving only matters of law and justice to the Lord Deputy. The prevailing opinion was that there should be Presidents, and that they should be appointed simultaneously with the new Deputy. Waterhouse’s advice being asked, he said that if Essex were rejected there were but two persons available, Leicester and Sidney. The former could scarcely be spared, and he therefore advised the choice of the latter, whose secretary he had been. Sidney was reluctant and Elizabeth undecided, and more than a year and a half slipped by without the change being actually made. ‘For God’s sake despatch him,’ said Fitzwilliam; ‘this uncertainty is a hell of unquietness to me, and so increases mine infirmities of shoulder, arm, side, and stomach, that I look shortly to become serviceable for nothing else but the worms of this land.’ He could not hope to be in England before October; too late for Bath, and leaving him no resource but physicians in whom he did not believe.[304]
The revenue. A pestilence,
The Government of Ireland from April 1, 1573, to September 30, 1575, cost the Queen more than 130,000l. in ready money sent from England, besides the Irish revenue and debts incurred but not discharged. It was a principal part of Sidney’s instructions to devise some means of checking this outflow. The Ulster account being almost closed, it was supposed that he would be able to manage with 5,000l. a quarter regularly paid, and that by improving the Irish revenue even that sum might in good time be reduced. Sidney was not likely to indulge in such golden dreams, and he undertook the government of Ireland for the third time with little expectation either of honour or profit. Leaving the Queen at Dudley Castle, he landed at Skerries after nearly losing two vessels in a storm. The summer had been very hot, and no rain fell from May 1 to August 1. ‘A loathsome disease and dreadful malady,’ say the ‘Four Masters,’ ‘arose from this heat—namely, the plague, which raged violently among the English and Irish in Dublin, Naas, Ardee, Mullingar, and Athboy. Between those places many a castle was left without a guard, many a flock without a shepherd, and many a noble corpse without burial.’
and panic.