In France, too, the stir among the exiles was great. Emissaries from Alva spread a report at Paris that the Duke was going to do something in Scotland or Ireland about March 1571. Malicorne, who had represented France at the marriage of the King of Spain, returned with news that Julian Romero, an old soldier who had been wounded at St. Quentin, had actually been despatched to Ireland with 3,000 men. Francis Walsingham, who was beginning his great career as ambassador at Paris, had a conversation with Charles IX., who told him that he hated the Guise faction and that he supposed Queen Elizabeth did so too. Walsingham could only repeat what he heard, but he must have been reassured by the magnificent contempt with which his mistress treated all these rumours. She informed him that certain savage Irish rebels of no value had gone to Spain nominally for conscience sake, whereas they were of no religion, but wholly given to bestiality. Stukeley had joined them, and tried to make himself important by superfluously spending of other men’s goods, he being in fact not worth a ‘marmaduc.’ She marvelled that king or minister should be taken in by such a fellow, and could not believe in Julian Romero and his invasion. It had never been her practice to employ Protestant refugees, of which there were plenty in England, in intrigues against their lawful sovereign, the King of Spain. Walsingham was instructed to complain about the French captain who brought away Fitzmaurice’s son, and he was not to be put off with evasive answers either from the French king or from the Spanish ambassador at Paris. The Spanish ambassador, with a proud and disdainful countenance, denied all knowledge of Stukeley or Romero. ‘They were no Spaniards who had that enterprise in hand.’ The French King promised to punish Mons. De la Roche and the other officers who had meddled in Irish plots; but Walsingham believed neither of them, and advised the Queen to revenge herself by giving trouble in Flanders. The Netherlanders indeed tied Philip’s hands; for France was not yet a Spanish province with Guise for viceroy, and it was impossible to break conclusively with England until French influence in Flanders should be no longer feared.[203]
Philip II.’s ideas.
When Stukeley arrived in Spain Archbishop Fitzgibbon recommended him to Philip without knowing much about him. He said he was daring and clever, that he had a knowledge of Irish harbours and was accompanied by Irish mariners, and that he bitterly hated his own country, to which he could never hope to return. But Fitzgibbon, like Rinuccini in later times, found that there was an irreconcilable difference between English and Irish refugees. The former were quite ready to get rid of Elizabeth, and not to be too particular about the means; but then Mary Stuart must be their queen. Their Catholic England once established, they had no more idea than Mary Tudor had of suffering an independent Ireland, or an Ireland under foreign sovereignty. Philip knew enough about his late wife’s dominions to see that the lesser island would be a most burdensome possession, and that no possible England would ever allow him to hold it quietly. He lavished favours on Stukeley, who was no doubt amusing and might annoy his dear sister-in-law; but he professed ignorance as to the projector’s plans, and perhaps never had any serious notion of employing him against Ireland. The island was poor and the people barbarous, and no revenue could be expected. He had trouble enough already with the Flemings, who had long been pouring across the Channel rather than submit to Alva’s tyranny, enriching England and draining his own exchequer. To invade Ireland would be to add an English fleet to his other troubles, and very possibly to cause a French occupation of Flanders. He is said to have contemplated seizing the Scilly Islands, which might have been valuable as a protection to Spanish trade; but this idea, if ever entertained, was abandoned for similar reasons. The Irish had offered their country to Philip to escape from England, in the belief, perhaps, that it might be left to themselves. Fitzgibbon saw clearly that this could never be. Had England remained Catholic he would have preferred her rule; now that Catholicism was proscribed he was perforce for the Spaniard.
Fitzgibbon thwarts Stukeley. The Pope discourages Fitzgibbon.
Fitzgibbon told Philip Stukeley’s very unedifying history. At first he had recommended him as likely to be useful, but was now convinced that he was an impostor. ‘I cannot,’ he said, ‘believe that the Irish princes would wish that a private English gentleman should have command in the slightest degree in their kingdom, while they with such obstinacy resist the Queen of England, who has so often offered them peace on good conditions. Therefore, I consider his coming as an act of deception, or an act devoid of common sense, for, as far as I can understand, he has received no commission from the princes of Ireland for your Majesty or any one else.’ The adventurer retorted with charges against the prelate’s private character, which, whether true or false, had certainly some weight with Philip. Stukeley may have cherished some mad idea of ruling Ireland as a Spanish viceroy. In any case, it is likely that he ill-treated the Irishmen who followed him, for they deserted to the Archbishop of Cashel, who refused to give them up. The Court were divided into two parties—Ruy Gomez, favouring the Archbishop, and the Duke of Feria, with his English wife, siding with Stukeley. There was a further difficulty with the Pope, who considered Ireland his own property, and thought Philip but a lukewarm son of the Church. It was not so very long since Tivoli and Ostia had been occupied by Spanish troops, and the city saved by a sort of accident. Did not the Catholic King, the great-nephew of Catherine of Arragon, the grandson of the great Isabella, keep the peace with his sister-in-law, and bear patiently the many insults of that excommunicated heretic, Anne Boleyn’s bastard daughter? The cardinal secretary informed the zealous Irish priest that the Pope was much surprised at his presumption in moving in such matters without special license. He might easily have remembered that Ireland was a fief of the Church, and inalienable without the will of the lord. His Holiness would do nothing unless Philip would sue to him for a grant, and the cardinal secretary would merely venture to guess that such a suit would not be denied. He might, with at least equal probability, have guessed that it never would be made.[204]
Fitzgibbon’s excuses to the Pope.
Fitzgibbon was horrified at meeting opposition from Rome. He was a fugitive, and his flock was at the mercy of wolves. His pall had been carried off by the English heretics, and he besought the Pope to send him another. If Ireland thought his Holiness alone could have delivered her ‘from the jaws of the English,’ she would have asked no other master. But other help was clearly necessary; France had none to give, and no State was more orthodox than Spain, which could alone relieve Irish Catholics. Only prompt help could avail, for the power of England increased daily, not only in Ireland, but in France, Flanders, Scotland, and Germany; Catholic interests, indeed, were threatened all over Europe.[205]
Stukeley in Spain. Rumours.
While Pius V. hesitated and procrastinated, Stukeley swaggered about in Spain, and affected to take the interests of English Catholicism under his protection. A certain Oliver King, a soldier of fortune, was at Madrid, and was accused by Stukeley of heresy; but his daily attendance at Mass, where he ‘knocked his breast’ devoutly, obtained for King the advocacy of Don Francesco de Merles, and his persecutor was unable to bring him before the Inquisition. He was, however, stripped and banished, and was fain to pass the Pyrenees in the snow, eluding the bravoes whom Stukeley had sent after him. When in safety he wrote to Cecil, giving an account of Stukeley’s proceedings, and praying God that he might not see England as he had seen France, the land waste, and the women at the mercy of foreign hirelings. Traitors, he said, abounded, who gaped for Queen Elizabeth’s death, and Stukeley boasted that he would give Ireland to Philip. Some 4,000 desperadoes had been got together; rascally ill-armed Bezonians, but officered by old beaten men of war, such as Julian Romero. An expedition was expected to sail almost immediately from Vigo, and King, who had a knowledge of military matters and mining, eagerly offered his services, provided the Queen would pardon him. Another Englishman, who had been in regular correspondence with Norris and Walsingham, was imprisoned for forty-seven days on suspicion, and nearly died of ill-treatment. On being released he was ordered to quit the kingdom. He agreed with King that a descent on Ireland would take place in March or April 1571, and added that Alva had a plan to occupy Caistor and Yarmouth.[206]