Case of a Marseilles ship.
This vessel, the ‘Peter and Paul,’ belonging to Marseilles, but laden at Lisbon with a rich cargo of pepper, ginger, cinnamon, nutmeg, soap, salad oil, sugar, ‘grains,’ and cotton-wool, arrived at Youghal in November 1572. She had forty persons on board, chiefly Portuguese, but among them were an Englishman, a Neapolitan, and two French passengers. Fitzwilliam, upon some report of a general restraint of trade with Spain, which might include Portugal, sent a commission to Perrott to detain the ship and to sell the cargo. At Youghal it might have been impossible to protect her from Piper and Garratt, two of the many pirates who at this time infested British waters, and she was brought round to Cork, where the men were billeted on the aldermen and allowed the run of the city. Perrott petitioned for a grant of the cargo, but the owners, who were wholly or partly French, complained to the Queen. Proceedings followed in the Admiralty, and the goods were not sold; but the ship was found to be rotten, and had to be unladen. This was carefully done: every article was scrupulously accounted for, and the foreigners certified that nothing had been extorted from them by way of ransom. It is the fate of every active provincial governor to have many detractors among the stay-at-homes, and Perrott’s enemies raised a cry at Court accusing him of making away with the cargo. His defence was complete and perfectly satisfactory to the Government, but he continued to be troubled about it for some time, and the voluminous correspondence extant shows how great was the commotion excited.[251]
Carew is forbidden to press his claims in Munster.
As if Munster had not troubles enough, an attempt was made at this time to revive Sir Peter Carew’s shadowy claim to a principality there, and some of the projectors renewed their offers to colonise parts of the province. Fitzwilliam referred to Perrott, who reported strongly against Carew. The mere disclosure of his title, he said, would rouse a nest of hornets; and he protested against a private adventurer being allowed to break the peace which he had established with great labour and tribulation. Sidney had three soldiers to Fitzwilliam’s one, yet it had taxed his resources severely to still Carew’s first commotion. It would be cheaper for the Queen to buy him out than to let him meddle again. The people saw clearly that what affected one would affect all, and Sir Peter was obliged to promise not to stir further in the matter.[252]
Perrott opposes Desmond’s restoration.
The more Perrott saw of Desmond the less he liked him. He had grumbled at his return; had he known him better he would have cried aloud. He now besought the Queen to have him taken back to England, for he would never learn manners in Dublin, and could do nothing but harm in Munster. To Burghley Perrott wrote still more unrestrainedly that the Earl was fitter to keep Bedlam than to rule a newly reformed country. In Munster, wrote the President proudly, the plough already laughed the unbridled rogue to scorn, and daily improvement was visible. The poor prayed for the Queen. The clansmen had almost given up swearing by their lords’ hands. The 8,000 or 9,000 men capable of bearing arms honoured Elizabeth’s name, and their hands began to wax hard in labour as their feet once did in running to mischief. The revenue might soon be expected to increase. ‘If the kings of England,’ he said in language which must have appealed very strongly to Elizabeth, ‘have any one thing heavier upon their souls than others, it is that they have not made a thorough conquest of this realm.’[253]
Threatening attitude of the Desmonds.
The Queen gracefully thanked Perrott for his services, begged him not to leave his post on account of his health, and proposed to send over an English doctor who knew his constitution. But she did not recall Desmond, who complained loudly of his long detention and declared his good intentions, while admitting that he had made many rash speeches. It does not seem to have occurred to him that a man who could not rule his tongue was hardly fit to rule a province. In the meantime his officers left the land waste, and seized Glin Castle in defiance of the President, whose health obliged him to go suddenly to England without taking the vengeance he had threatened. The highest praise which can be given him for his government of Munster is to quote the words which the ‘Four Masters’ used in derision:—‘The departure of the President was lamented by the poor, the widows, the feeble, and the unwarlike of the country.’ No sooner was his back turned than the Geraldines began to stir ominously. James Fitzmaurice reopened his intrigues with Spain. Finding that his wife had been writing amorous letters to Edward Butler, he divorced her summarily and married O’Connor Kerry’s widow, whose castle of Carrigafoyle, ‘the strongest and beautifullest’ in West Munster, thus fell into his hands, and offered a ready harbour for ‘Jack Spaniard.’ He conferred with Clanricarde’s sons—‘a sage Parliament in God’s name’—and to this Sir John was supposed to be privy. Fitzwilliam saw that mischief was in the wind, and meditated a journey to Munster, when Desmond, whose tone had been gradually growing less submissive, cut the knot by escaping from Dublin.[254]
Desmond escapes from Dublin, and resumes the Irish dress.