The decision would have worked a complete overthrow of the Star Chamberers but for an unexpected turn in affairs. In September, 1607, the Flight of the Earls startled the kingdom and threw supreme power into Chichester’s hands. The event was revolutionary, and the confiscation of Ulster was its consequence.
With the knowledge that a Plantation was resolved on, the Deputy, on the 13th January, 1608, raised anew the question of Sir Randal’s “fourth.” He coolly referred to it in a letter to Cecil as “the case in controversy between Sir Randal MacDonnell and Mr. James Hamilton, concerning the fourth part of the fishery of the Bann, sometime debated before me, and order thereupon made by myself and the Council.” He went on to announce that he had “caused the King’s learned counsel here to draw the case according to the records,” and was sending it to London for the information of the Privy Council.
This admission that he had acted as judge in the action might seem to show candour, but no one then was aware that MacDonnell’s fishery had been conveyed to him. The Deputy’s adjudication in Hamilton’s favour was the counterpart of his decision in O’Cahan v. O’Neill; yet, so obscure were his devices, that the fact that he was personally interested in the suit lay hidden for three centuries. The Attorney and Solicitor-General, who “drew the case according to the records,” knew the truth, but suppressed it. So, the Privy Council, unaware of the guilty secret, allowed the sequestration to be re-imposed for the third time, to the despair of Randal, who hastened to London in June, 1608. This time he met with failure there, for Chichester was now all-powerful. His journey, however, so much upset the Deputy that, to baffle MacDonnell beyond hope of recovery, he resorted to a desperate shift. It took the shape of transferring his fishery to a stranger; by which device it was hoped to raise an insurmountable obstacle in his path. To give solemnity to the stratagem, Chichester, by an act of State, gave it validity in the King’s name. On the 1st July, 1608, while MacDonnell was making his way to the steps of the Throne his “fourth” was conferred by Patent (with much other gear) on “our dear Arthur Bassett of Dublin.”
Here indeed was legerdemain. James Hamilton we know; Thomas Irelande we know; Auditor Ware we know; John Wakeman we know; John King we know; Carew and Cary we know; but who was this new ensign of the brigand troupe? He appeared in the lists with vizor down, and was previously unknown to fame. The stranger, however, was no less a person than Chichester’s nephew—fresh landed a year before from Devonshire.
The manufacture for him of a Patent purporting to affectionately embody the royal wishes was a masterstroke.
CHAPTER XI.
THE DEPUTY’S NEPHEW.
“Our dear Arthur Bassett of Dublin” was not of Dublin, but of Umberley, in the County of Devon. He was brought over to serve as jackal for his uncle, and the Patent suddenly made out for him was simply a link forged in the chain of confiscation. It granted Bassett all the enormous territories captured by Chichester through Hamilton on the 14th February, 1606, with Sir Randal MacDonnell’s “fourth” of the Bann thrown in. No King’s Letter authorised it, and the Patent was issued without the knowledge of his Majesty or any of his Council. Nevertheless, it emerged duly sealed from the Irish Chancery; and its formal validity could not be denied. Here the cunning hand of Davies was again at work, and the processes of law were twisted by him to purposes which no one else had dreamt of. The minting machine, the dies, the cranks, the pulleys, and every handy engine for counterfeiting stood ready; but it was the brain of Davies which turned them to account. How came he weaponed for this work?
Two years earlier a “Royal Commission for the Remedy of Defective Titles” had been established by James I. on the Deputy’s advice. It was set up as a local convenience, to enable Patents to be issued in Dublin to owners whose grants had been held defective, without the necessity of suing out King’s Letters from London. On payment of a fine by approved applicants, the Royal Commissioners, who comprised all the leading members of the Executive (17 in number), headed by the Deputy and the judges, were empowered to make amended grants. Their integrity and good faith were relied on by the King to exercise the regal privilege entrusted to them without any check or supervision.
This delegation of royal authority Chichester perverted to his own purposes. His nephew owned no property in Ireland, and had no title to be “remedied.” Yet to this landless upstart a parchment was presented, as if he were some ancient and blameless Patentee in whose deeds a flaw had been detected. His Majesty never heard of “our dear Arthur Bassett,” who was “of Dublin” only because he had been fetched there to abet a crime. He was for the moment Provost Marshal for Munster, it being the Deputy’s habit to quarter as many of his relatives as possible on the taxpayers; but there was no other link to connect him with Irish soil. The property stolen through Hamilton was all conveyed to him by this means, and with it was included the “fourth” of the tidal Bann which MacDonnell was given by James I. on his accession five years before.
This pilferage must be reckoned as one of Chichester’s most dexterous fetches. In skill it outdid even the budding of the life-estate in Lough Neagh on the thirteen-and-fourpenny “command” at Carrickfergus. Still, its success was influentially contributed to by others. The trick required the collusion of the Attorney-General, the Solicitor-General, the Chancellor-Archbishop of Dublin, the Chief Justice, the Chief Baron, the Master of the Rolls, the principal Secretary of State, and the Chancellor of the Exchequer. Every high official was needed as an accomplice; and not one of them flinched. These were the men who embodied the civilising influences which replaced the less facile justice of the “lewd” Brehon Code.