Shortly after the dissolution a Royal Commission was issued “for inquiry into defective titles;” and in July the Lord Deputy set out for Connaught to superintend the work of robbery in person. The concurrence of the judges had already been ensured by promising their lordships a commission of four shillings in the pound upon the profits of the plantation; “which, upon observation,” Wentworth afterwards declared, “I find to be the best given that ever was. For now they do intend it with a care and diligence such as if it were their own private. And most certain, the gaining to themselves every four shillings once paid shall better your revenue ever after at least five pounds.”[[106]] Great pains were taken to seek out jurors who “might give furtherance in finding a title for the King.” The sheriffs were instructed to select “gentlemen of the best estates and understanding,” whose verdict in favour of the royal title would carry the more weight, since they would be “as much concerned in their own particulars as any other;” while on the other hand they would be able to “answer the King a good round sum in the Castle Chamber if they should prevaricate.”
The Commission was first opened in Roscommon, where Wentworth addressed a jury, composed as he had directed, in a highly characteristic speech. His Majesty, he said, desired only to make them “a civil and rich people;” and a plantation was necessary in order to accomplish this benevolent purpose. He did not intend “to take from them anything that was justly theirs, but in truth to bestow amongst them a good part of that which was his own.” He “came not to sue them to find for him as needing any power of theirs to vindicate his own right, for without them, where his right is so plain, he could not in justice have been denied possession upon an information of intrusion. The Court in an ordinary way of Exchequer must have granted it on the first motion of the Attorney-General.” To the King, therefore, their decision was a matter of indifference: with a verdict, or without it, he intended to take their property; “the path to his right lay elsewhere, open and fair before him.” But, as regarded their own interests, “as one that must ever wish prosperity to their nation, I desired them, first, to descend into their own consciences and take them to counsel, and there they should find the evidence for the Crown clear and conclusive. Next, to beware how they appeared resolved or obstinate against so manifest a truth, or how they let slip forth of their hands the means to weave themselves into the royal thoughts and care of his Majesty, through a cheerful and ready acknowledgment of his right and a due and full submission thereunto. So, then, if they would be inclined to truth and do best for themselves, they would undoubtedly find the title for the King. If they were passionately resolved to go over all bounds to their own will, and, without respects at all to their own good, to do that which were simply best for his Majesty, then I should advise them roughly and pertinaciously to deny to find any title at all. And there I left them to chant together, as they call it, over the evidence.”[[107]]
Owing partly to this adroit mixture of chicanery and menace, partly, as it would seem, to private negotiations between the Lord Deputy and individual jurymen,[[108]] a verdict acknowledging the royal title was returned. The juries of Sligo and Mayo were equally complacent; but in Galway, as Wentworth had anticipated, and indeed desired, considerable opposition was made. The county was the headquarters of the De Burghs; and the Earl of Clanricarde and his dependents were understood to be very hostile to the proposed plantation. “But whether it be so or not,” Wentworth wrote to Charles: “I could wish their county would stand out, for I am well assured it shall turn to your Majesty’s advantage if they do. For certain it is a county which lies out at a corner by itself, and all the inhabitants wholly natives and Papists, hardly an Englishman among them, whom they keep out with all the industry in the world; and therefore it would be a great security if they were thoroughly lined with English indeed.” His wishes were gratified. Although the royal title was made out in such manner as appeared “most just, honourable, and unquestionable to all equal-minded men,” the jury “obstinately and perversely refused” to find for the Crown. For this obstinacy, Wentworth offered three explanations. First, “there is scarce a Protestant freeholder to be found to serve his Majesty on this or any other occasion in this country, being in a manner altogether compounded of Papists.” Secondly, “the counsellors at law, being all of them recusants, showed themselves over-busy even to faction, in this service against the King.” Lastly, the Earl of Clanricarde had exerted the influence derived from his “great estate” and “far-spread kindred” to frustrate the plantation. In support of this last assertion, Wentworth appealed to the following facts. First, John Donnellan, the Earl’s steward, had received messengers with letters from the Earl out of England; “and, whereas we were certainly informed that divers gentlemen were resolved to have acknowledged the King’s title, upon these men’s arrival they altered their resolutions, and since stand in opposition thereunto.” Secondly, Lord Clanmorris, a nephew of the Earl, “appeared openly before us to countenance the opposition of the country.” Thirdly, Richard Burke, of Derrymacoghlan, another nephew of the Earl and a member of the jury, had pulled a fellow juror by the sleeve, “labouring to divert the said juror from declaring that his conscience led him to find for his Majesty.” Fourthly, “the Earl’s principal servant and steward, John Donnellan, being one of the jury, we saw plainly that he guided the rest which way he pleased.” Fifthly and lastly, “most of the jurors are of the Earl’s kindred or near alliance, or his dependents.”
Wentworth was not the man to be deterred by an adverse verdict. He had warned the jury that, if they refused to find the verdict which he desired, it would be the worse for them, and he now showed that this had been no idle menace. D’Arcy, the Sheriff, whom the Lord Deputy held responsible for what he regarded as a gross miscarriage of justice, was imprisoned and fined £1,000 “for returning an insufficient and, as we conceived, a packed jury.” The jurors themselves were summoned before the Castle Chamber and fined £4,000 each. A proclamation was next issued, by which the other landowners of the county were recommended to disassociate themselves from the recalcitrant jurors, and save a portion of their estates by acknowledging the royal title. The Court of Exchequer, by Wentworth’s direction, issued an order “to seize for his Majesty the lands of the jurors, and of all that should not lay hold on his Majesty’s grace offered them by the proclamation.” With Clanricarde himself the Lord Deputy insisted that no terms would be made. The Earl and his son were at this time in London; and there Wentworth advised that they should be detained until the work of spoliation had been carried out. Wentworth further advised that the fortifications of Galway should be repaired, and that that city and Athenry should be strongly garrisoned while the plantations were proceeding.[[109]] Charles signified his concurrence.[[110]]
And now comes the mysterious part of the business. The Commission sat in 1635; the Lord Deputy continued to hold office until the spring of 1641; yet the plantation was never carried out. No satisfactory explanation has yet been offered for this omission. It is certain that, so long as Wentworth lived, the scheme was never definitely abandoned.[[111]] In all probability the task was found to be more difficult than had been anticipated. The settlement of Ulster had been a simple matter in comparison. In the northern province Mountjoy had prepared the way for the planters by exterminating the best part of the original inhabitants; and the flight of the earls had left the scanty remnant destitute of their natural leaders. In Connaught, which had been comparatively peaceful during the Elizabethan wars, there was a numerous and warlike population, not yet cowed by famine and massacre, to be reckoned with; and their leader, Lord Clanricarde, a great English noble as well as a great Irish chieftain, could exert more influence at the Court of England than any “mere Irishman” could have done. These considerations may have induced Wentworth to proceed slowly and with caution. During 1636 and the two following years the province continued to be strongly garrisoned, and a few English settlers seem to have been introduced; but they were very few, and Connaught was still almost wholly in Catholic hands when the troubles that broke out in Scotland compelled the Lord Deputy to turn his attention elsewhere.[[112]]
During the next three years Wentworth devoted himself to securing for his master a revenue independent of Parliamentary control. With this object, inquisitions into defective titles were held not only in Connaught, but in every part of the island. No fresh plantations were made; but any landlord in whose title the smallest technical flaw could be discovered was compelled to pay heavily for a fresh patent. These exactions pressed hard upon natives and colonists alike. The former had generally inherited their lands according to some Irish custom not recognised by English lawyers; while many of the latter had neglected to fulfil the onerous and intricate conditions imposed upon them by the Articles of the plantations. The O’Byrnes of Wicklow, who had already been so harshly treated, were compelled to pay £15,000 before they recovered their estates.[[113]] The London companies were prosecuted in the Star Chamber on a charge of mismanaging their Ulster property, and condemned to forfeiture and a fine of £70,000.[[114]]
At the same time the Lord Deputy exerted himself with characteristic energy to develop the material resources of the country. The extraordinary advances which Irish commerce made under his government have been acknowledged by historians the most hostile to his memory.[[115]] In one respect, it is true, his commercial policy deserves severe blame. He found in Ireland, on his arrival, the beginnings of a flourishing woollen manufacture; and this manufacture, out of deference to the jealous fears of English traders, he promptly proceeded to destroy. The injury thus inflicted was more than compensated by the enormous development of the linen trade; a development which must be ascribed in large measure to the judicious and munificent patronage of Wentworth. He imported great quantities of flax from Holland at his own expense; introduced skilled workmen from France and the Low Countries; and did so much for the improvement of this industry that, although it had existed in Ireland at least as early as the fifteenth century, he is still spoken of in popular tradition as its founder.[[116]]
In spite, however, of the increasing prosperity of the country, the Lord Deputy continued to be an object of aversion to every section of the community. His unpopularity was due in almost equal measure to the merits and to the faults of his administration. The more violent Protestants were indignant at the introduction of the English Articles, as well as at Wentworth’s persistent refusal to exact the recusancy fines. The Catholics were kept in constant alarm by the inquiries into defective titles, and by the penal laws, which, though their execution was temporarily suspended, the Lord Deputy, as they were probably aware, was fully resolved to enforce, as soon as he should feel able to do so with impunity.[[117]] At the same time a crowd of rapacious officials, who had enriched themselves under the government of his incompetent predecessor, were exasperated by his vigorous attempts to repress jobbery and extortion. For this at least must be acknowledged to Wentworth’s honour, that, if he was a tyrant, he suffered no tyranny but his own.
The hostility of these men proved far more injurious to the Lord Deputy than the indignation of the native gentry. Of his quarrel with Lord Cork I have already spoken. His treatment of two other officials was made the subject of still harsher criticism. At the beginning of his administration Wentworth had been opposed by a majority of the Irish Council, but supported by a minority led by Lord Chancellor Loftus and Lord Mountnorris, both conspicuous for their hostility to his predecessor.[[118]] Within a very few years he had made both these men his bitter enemies. Mountnorris, when Wentworth took office, was Vice-Treasurer, and was believed by Lord Cork, then Treasurer, to have been guilty of gross mismanagement, if not of actual malversation.[[119]] Wentworth was not as a rule disposed to pay much attention to Cork’s statements; but misappropriation of public moneys was the last thing which he felt inclined to tolerate; and he instituted an inquiry which resulted in the conviction of Mountnorris, not, indeed, of personal corruption, but of scandalous negligence in tolerating the corruption of his subordinates.[[120]] Although Mountnorris was not at once deprived of his office he evidently considered himself aggrieved, and thenceforth intrigued persistently against the Lord Deputy. In the spring of 1635 the quarrel came to a head. A younger brother of Mountnorris, an officer in Wentworth’s own regiment, was guilty of some trivial breach of military discipline. He was rebuked by Wentworth, and answered with an impertinent gesture. The Lord Deputy, whose naturally choleric temper was at this time aggravated by an attack of gout, struck him lightly with his cane, telling him that, if the offence was repeated, “he would lay him over the pate.” A few days later, at a levée at Dublin Castle, a gentleman-in-waiting, who was also related to Mountnorris, contrived to overturn a stool on the Lord Deputy’s gouty foot. At a dinner party given not long afterwards by the Lord Chancellor, the occurrence was discussed, and Mountnorris hazarded an opinion that it had not been entirely accidental. “Perhaps,” said he, “it was done in revenge of that public affront that the Lord Deputy had done me formerly. But,” he added, “he has a brother who would not take such a revenge.”[[121]]
What Mountnorris may have meant it is impossible to say. In all probability he meant nothing, for the words were uttered after dinner, and he was not a man of abstemious habits. Be that as it may, he had soon reason to rue his imprudence. His words were repeated to the Lord Deputy, probably by Adam Loftus the younger, who was anxious to succeed him as Vice-Treasurer. Wentworth, who had previously been in communication with the king on the subject of Mountnorris’s financial irregularities, now wrote to request his Majesty’s permission to bring the Vice-Treasurer before a court-martial on the monstrous charge of inciting to a mutiny in the army. The permission was granted in July,[[122]] but it was not until six months later that the trial was held. The delay may have been due to the affairs of Connaught, which left the Lord Deputy little leisure to prosecute a personal quarrel; but it is also possible that Wentworth did not intend to proceed further in the matter unless fresh provocation was given. In the autumn, unfortunately for himself, Mountnorris engaged in an intrigue which kindled afresh the smouldering anger of the Lord Deputy. He proposed to the king an iniquitous scheme of taxation, which would, if it had been adopted, have increased his Majesty’s revenue from £8,000 to £20,000.[[123]] Wentworth, eager as he undoubtedly was “to raise a good revenue for the Crown,” was wise enough to understand that there is a point beyond which taxation cannot advantageously be pushed. He also knew his master quite well enough to feel sure that the permanent interest of the country would have little weight with him against the prospect of an immediate pecuniary gain. He resolved to crush Mountnorris without delay.