‘Nay, you are drunk,’ said the Marshal to the Deputy.
After this it is hardly worth while to repeat Wallop’s complaints, that his labours in Munster were slighted, and that the Lord Deputy sometimes indulged in violent language against him, and against Chief Justice Gardiner.[153]
Perrott’s troubles.
Perrott’s health may partly excuse him, for he suffered much. ‘By God, Mr. Carew,’ he wrote, ‘I daily grow weaker and weaker of body through the great pain I have of the stone, growing more and more upon me in this slimy country. In Connaught, if I travelled one day, through the grating of the stone in my kidneys I was fain to rest another; and in the end the Irish ague took me, that I was seven days like to die in Galway, and am not yet thoroughly recovered thereof, nor shall not (I believe) pass this next year, except her Majesty, of her great grace, give me licence to go to the Spa the next spring; a suit that I made to her Highness nine years agone. It were better her Majesty preserved me to serve her in some other place, than I to be wilfully cast away here.’ Ireland was a prison where he could do no good to himself nor to any other man. ‘Help your poor friend out of this hell,’ was his prayer to Leicester. If he could but see Elizabeth all would be well, for she had promised not to listen to detractors who were his enemies because he served one God and one Queen; but now her Deputy was brought into greater contempt than ever Sir John Perrott was. One can sympathise with the man; but no good work could be expected from a governor who had personally quarrelled with all the more important members of the Council, by whose advice he was bound to act.[154]
An Irish regiment sent to Holland,
under Sir William Stanley,
who deserts to the Spaniards.
Stanley wished to invade Ireland,
but never effected anything.
Ireland being comparatively peaceful, it occurred to Elizabeth, or to some of her advisers, that an Irish force might be raised for service in the Netherlands. Perhaps it was also thought that the more loose swordsmen were sent out of the country the more likely it was to remain quiet. The officer chosen was Sir William Stanley, who had done good service in many parts of Ireland, and who had been rewarded by a reversionary grant of the Mastership of the Ordnance. The Catholic party was at this time in the ascendency at Deventer, and had given trouble by introducing provisions into the beleaguered city of Zutphen. Leicester sent Sir William Pelham to secure Deventer, and Stanley, whom he must have known well in Ireland, was ordered to support him. Pelham secured the municipality in Protestant hands, and Leicester then handed over the place to Stanley, who was known to favour the old religion, and suspected of being concerned in plots, and who had been associating with Spaniards for months. Leicester’s chief object in making this appointment seems to have been to annoy Sir John Norris, from whose control, with almost incredible folly, he specially excepted Stanley and his Irishmen. The fort of Zutphen, which had been lately taken, was entrusted to Rowland Yorke, an adventurer of the worst character, who soon opened communications with the Spanish garrison of the town. Stanley’s Irish soldiers were allowed into Zutphen to hear mass; and Leicester, though he was warned of what was going on, took no steps to prevent it. When the Earl went to England, Yorke and Stanley had ample time for plotting, and Deventer was given up to the Spaniards in due course. But treason rarely prospers. Yorke, who was promised a large reward, died under suspicious circumstances before he could enjoy it. Stanley seems to have been more disinterested; but he received money from Philip, joined Parma’s army, and was seen by Robert Cecil during his mission to France in 1598, who notes that the renegade was fain to pull his cap over his face. Nor did all Spaniards approve Stanley’s conduct, if it be true that in passing through Seville ‘he was well handled of the country, for they unarmed him, unhorsed him, reviled him for his lewd doings towards his prince, and made him go on foot; but coming to the King he was in favour, and punishment used on such as thus dealt with him, and the officers displaced for suffering it.’ An invasion of Ireland was contemplated under Stanley’s leadership, and he looked forward with pleasure to the service. ‘I will,’ he said, ‘ruin the whole country as far as Holland and the parts about Wezel (Ijssel) and Emden in six days, and in Ireland I will open such a game of war as the Queen has never seen in her life.’ Against his advice the descent on Ireland was abandoned, and he sank into obscurity; it was even reported that he had gone mad. An Italian named Giacomo de Francesqui, and sometimes called Captain Jacques, who had been his lieutenant in Ireland, was arrested by Burghley’s orders. This officer was on friendly terms with Florence MacCarthy, and was known to have been acquainted with Ballard; and it was thought that he might be utilised by the Spaniards in Munster. Most of Stanley’s Irish levies doubtless left their bones in the Low Countries, but a few returned to Ireland, and eleven of these poor men were pardoned by Elizabeth nearly seven years after the treason at Deventer. ‘They were,’ she said, ‘innocently forced to disobey us.’ For many years there were reports that Stanley was coming to Ireland, but he never came. In Cheshire old Sir Rowland Stanley ‘grievously lamented his son William the traitor, maintaining his son in Cambridge, and also relieving his wife and children, having no other maintenance.’[155]