The Irish to be civilised or extirpated.

Hitherto the prevailing policy had been to keep English and Irish from hurting each other, and the more successful it had been the more harm it had done. The peasants of the Pale were all Irish. They propagated their species with perfect recklessness, and it was therefore useless to expect any increased civilisation. Even in Dublin people of English race delighted in talking Irish, and habits and feelings always followed the language. It might be possible to civilise some of the Irish: the rest should be extirpated, and English farmers with good leases and moderate rents substituted for them. From this nucleus the Celtic wilderness might be gradually reclaimed. In the meantime, the prisons were few and insecure. There were no pounds. The mountains everywhere harboured thieves, and they came within four miles of Dublin. Cattle were not safe in the fields, even at the very gates. But it had once been no better in Montgomery and Radnor, in Brecknock and Monmouth. There also it had been necessary to fold the flocks securely at night until the twenty-sixth year of Henry VIII., when Wales was fully reduced to shire ground and the Presidency Court made a reality by hanging the mountain thieves instead of allowing the Lord Marchers to traffic in pardons. Dublin county might be made as quiet as Monmouthshire if compositions for crimes were sternly abolished and if successive Lord Deputies would ‘work hanging instead of agreeing to recompense felonious offences.’[342]

Drury’s opinions.

White, the Master of the Rolls, who hated Sidney and did not like English officials generally, and who ostentatiously put his trust in Burghley rather than in Walsingham, reported that Munster was quiet, but that the Lord President gained little love by burdening the people with cess. Drury argued that this quiet was owing entirely to the just severity with which he ruled, having, as he oddly expresses it, executed ‘divers malefactors of good account.’ As for the cess, money must be had somehow, for he had been forced to spend largely on the repair of Limerick Castle. Cork was without stores, and a foreign invasion might be expected at any moment; for the intrigues of James Fitzmaurice were no secret. Lord Barry compounded for an annual payment of 150l., and MacCarthy Reagh for 250l., but in many cases no agreement could be come to, and the uncertainty of all titles made financial reform almost desperate. Rents were as uncertain as titles, and landlords and tenants distrusted each other profoundly. But firmness had its usual effect, and the stout old soldier saw signs of increasing conformity among his subjects of all ranks.[343]

Desmond offers to submit, 1577.

Desmond, the common oppressor of all, complained loudly that the soldiers ill-treated his tenants, and exacted cess, both in money and in kind; that he and his were much the poorer, and that the Queen was never a penny the richer. This complaint was made directly to Burghley without complaining to the Lord President, a breach of decorum for which the Earl received a rebuke. The English Council with becoming gravity told Drury to make strict inquiry, but they knew, and every officer in Ireland knew, that ill-paid soldiers could not be kept in proper order. A loan of 500l. for the Munster service was refused by the Queen, and the President warned her that she would be put to greater expense by her refusal. He begged for a galley to cruise on the coast, and like the stout-hearted man he was he went on doing his best with scanty means and not very much thanks. Sir John of Desmond, being suspected of complicity with the Connaught rebels, was arrested, whereupon the Earl retired into Kerry, refused to go to the Deputy or President, ordered his dependents to pay no taxes, and collected a force which soon swelled to 1,000 men; professing all the time to consider his own life in danger. Sir James, with 200 foot and some horse, levied contributions in Duhallow, while Drury, besides his own servants, had but 100 available troopers. The summer passed away thus, and the winter was half over before Desmond made up his mind that he was in no danger. He agreed to disperse all his forces except twenty horsemen, and to pay something towards the expenses of the province. Having several times refused to come to the President, he came to Kilkenny at Sidney’s first summons, was reconciled to Drury, with whom he had not been on speaking terms, and promised to support him as the Queen’s chief officer should be supported. Sidney knew his mistress, and he advised the acceptance of these terms. Drury was forced to submit, very much against his own judgment; for Desmond, in his view, was the one great obstacle to law and order. The habit, he said, of easily pardoning great offenders, ‘which both now and heretofore being used hath been the common gall to the good government of the province, and the greatest encouragement that may be to such as transgress, ... which kind of precarium imperium is in my judgment the unfittest way to a perfect reformation.’[344]

Drury’s efforts to divide Munster from Connaught.

That there had been intrigues between the Desmonds and the Connaught rebels was probably true enough. An alliance was even contemplated between Lady Mary Burke and Sir John of Desmond. Both were already married, but matrimonial ties were lightly regarded in the Clanricarde family, and Sir John was not the man to let principle stand in the way of interest. By keeping the Government constantly occupied the Western gentlemen hoped to prevent administrative reform, and there was always the off chance of a foreign invasion, which might restore their waning importance. Religion went for something, but probably not yet for much. In order to cut off communications between Connaught and Munster, Drury paid particular attention to Thomond, where the Earl, a vain and vacillating man, who could do little harm and might be of some use, made loyal professions, and received nearly all the privileges he asked for, though he afterwards complained that a new tax was nevertheless imposed on his country. His experience of foreign Courts had not been so pleasant as to tempt him to fresh adventures. Very different treatment was awarded to Murrough O’Brien, noted as the best horseman in Ireland, a great favourite with Desmond and other disorderly persons, and proportionately feared by the lovers of peace. He had been engaged in Fitzmaurice’s old rebellion, and was suspected of plotting a new one. His outrages were many, and a verdict was easily obtained at Limerick. ‘300l. was offered for his life, and more would have been given, but 3,000l. should not have saved him; ... his death was far better than his life, and he confessed he had deserved death.’[345]

Maltby punishes the Clanricarde rebels. His opinion.