CHAPTER IX.

THE IRISH AND THE TUDORS.--ELIZABETH.--THE UNDAUNTED NOBILITY.--

THE SUFFERING CHURCH.

On January 12, 1559, in the second year of the reign of

Elizabeth, a Parliament was convened in Dublin to pass the Act

of Supremacy; that is to say, to establish Lutheranism in

Ireland, as had already been done in England, under the garb of

Episcopalianism.

But the attempt was fated to encounter a more determined

opposition in Dublin than it had in London.

Sir James Ware says, in reference to it: "At the very beginning

of this Parliament, her Majestie's well-wishers found that most

of the nobility and Commons--they were all English by blood or

birth--were divided in opinion about the ecclesiastical

government, which caused the Earl of Sussex (Lord Deputy) to

dissolve them, and to go over to England to confer with her

Majesty about the affairs of this kingdom.

"These differences were occasioned by the several alterations

which had happened in ecclesiastical matters within the compass

of twelve years.

"1. King Henry VIII. held the ecclesiastical supremacy with the

first-fruits and tenths, maintaining the seven sacraments, with

obits and mass for the living and the dead.

"2. King Edward abolished the mass, authorizing the book of

common prayers, and the consecration of the bread and wine in

the English tongue, and establishing only two sacraments.

"3. Queen Mary, after King Edward's decease, brought all back

again to the Church of Rome, and the papal obedience.

"4. Queen Elizabeth, on her first Parliament in England, took

away the Pope's supremacy, reserving the tenths and first-fruits

to her heirs and successors. She put down the mass, and, for a

general uniformity of worship in her dominions, as well in

England as in Ireland, she established the book of common

prayers, and forbade the use of popish ceremonies."

Such is the very lucid sketch furnished by Ware of the changes

which had taken place in religion in England within the brief

space of twelve years.

The members of the Irish Parliament, although of English descent,

could not so easily reconcile themselves to these rapid changes

as their fellows in England had done; in fact, they laid claim

to a conscience--a thing seemingly unknown to the English

members, or, if known at all, of an exceedingly elastic and

slippery nature. Here lay the difficulty: how was it to be

overcome? The conversation between Elizabeth and Sussex must

have been of a very interesting character.

Returning with private instructions from the queen, the Earl of

Sussex again convened the Parliament, which only consisted of

the so called representatives of ten counties--Dublin, Meath,

West Meath, Louth, Kildare, Carlow, Kilkenny, Waterford,

Tipperary, and Wexford. We see that the almost total extinction

of the Kildare branch of the Geraldines had extended the English

Pale. The other deputies were citizens and burgesses of those

towns in which the royal authority predominated. "With such an

assembly," says Leland, "it is little wonder that, in despite of

clamor and opposition, in a session of a few weeks, the whole

ecclesiastical system of Queen Mary was entirely reversed." It

is needless to remark that the people had nothing whatever to do

with this reversal; it merely looked on, or was already

organizing for resistance.

Nevertheless, even in that assembly the queen's agents were

obliged to have recourse to fraud and deception, in order to

carry her measures, and it cannot be said that they obtained a

majority.

"The proceedings," according to Mr. Haverty, "are involved in

mystery, and the principal measures are believed to have been

carried by means fraudulent and clandestine." And, in a note, he

adds: "It is said that the Earl of Sussex, to calm the protests

which were made in Parliament, when it was found that the law

had been passed by a few members assembled privately, pledged

himself solemnly that this statute would not be enforced

generally on laymen during the reign of Elizabeth."1 (1 Dr.

Curry, in his "Civil Wars," has collected some curious facts in

illustration of this point.)

Whatever the means adopted to introduce and carry out the new

policy, it was certainly enacted that "the queen was the head of

the Church of Ireland, the reformed worship was reestablished as

under Edward VI., and the book of common prayers, with further

alterations, was reintroduced. A fine of twelve pence was

imposed on every person who should not attend the new service,

for each offence; bishops were to be appointed only by the queen,

and consecrated at her bidding. All officers and ministers,

ecclesiastical or lay, were bound to take the oath of supremacy,

under pain of forfeiture or incapacity; and any one who

maintained the spiritual supremacy of the Pope was to forfeit,

for his first offence, all his estates, real and personal, or be

imprisoned for one year, if not worth twenty pounds; for the

second offence, to be liable to praemunire; and for the third,

to be guilty of high-treason."

It was understood that those laws would be strictly enforced

against all priests and friars, though left generally

inoperative for lay people; and, with certain exceptions,

mentioned by Dr. Curry, such was the rule observed. Thus, the

reign of Elizabeth, which was such a cruel one for ecclesiastics,

produced few martyrs among the laity in Ireland. And, for this

reason, Sir James Ware is able to boast that, in all the

"rebellions" of the Irish against Elizabeth; they falsely

complained that their freedom of worship was curtailed, as

though they could worship without either priests or churches.

But the law was passed which made it "high-treason" to assert,

three times in succession, the spiritual supremacy of the Pope;

and, henceforth, whoever should suffer in defence of that

Catholic dogma, was to be a traitor and not a martyr.

The woman, seated on the English throne, speedily discovered

that it was not so easy a matter to change the religion of the

Irish as it had been to subvert completely that of her own

people.

Deprived of religious houses and means of instruction, deprived

of priests and churches, no communication with Rome save by

stealth, the Irish still showed their oppressors that their

consciences were free, and that no acts of Parliament or

sentences of iniquitous tribunals could prevent their remaining

Catholics.

By promising to deal as lightly with the laity as severely with

the clergy, Elizabeth felt confident that the Catholic religion

would soon perish in Ireland, and that, with the disappearance

of the priests, the churches, sacraments, instruction, and open

communion with Rome, would also disappear. To all seeming, her

surmises were correct; but the people were silently gathering

and uniting together as they had never done before.

The whole of Elizabeth's Irish policy may be comprised under two

headings: 1. Her policy toward the nobles, apparently one of

compromise and toleration, but really one of destruction, and so

rightly did they understand it that they rose and called in

foreign aid to their assistance; 2. Her church policy, one of

blood and total overthrow, which priests and people, now united

forever in the same great cause, resisted from the outset, and

finally defeated; and the decrees of high-treason, which were

carried out with frightful barbarity, only served to confirm the

Irish people in that unanimity which the wily dealings of Henry

VIII. had originated.

I. With the nobility Elizabeth hoped to succeed by flattery,

cunning, deceit, finally by treachery, and sowing dissension

among them; but all her efforts only served to knit them more

firmly one to another, and to revive among them the true spirit

of nationality and patriotism.

She did not state to them that her great object was to destroy

the Catholic Church; neverthless they should have felt and

resented it from the beginning; above all, ought they to have

given expression to the contempt they entertained for the bait

held out to them that the "laws" would not be executed against

them, but against Churchmen only. Had they been truly animated

by the feelings which already possessed the hearts of the people,

they would have scornfuly rejected the compromise proposed.

But she appeared to allow them perfect freedom in religious

matters; she subjected them to no oath, as in England; the new

laws were a dead letter as far as regarded the native lords, who

lived under other laws and remained silent, as with the lords of

the Pale. Yet nothing was of such importance in her eyes as the

enforcement of those decrees; consequently, she could only

accomplish her designs by deceit. George Browne, the first

Protestant Archbishop of Dublin, had predicted that the old

Irish race and the Anglo-Irish chieftains would unite and

combine with Continental powers in order to establish their

independence. The whole policy of Elizabeth's reign would give

us reason to believe that she rightly understood the deep remark

of the worldly heretic. Hence, although (or, rather, because)

the north, Ulster, was at that time the stronghold of Catholic

feeling, and the O'Neills and O'Donnells its leaders, she

flatters them, has them brought to her court, pardons several

"rebellions" of Shane the Proud, and afterward loads with her

favors the young Hugh of Tyrone, whom she kept at her own court.

She would dazzle them by the splendor of that court, by the

royal presents she so royally lavishes upon them, and by the

prospect of greater favors still to come. Meanwhile on the south

she turns a stern eye, and makes up her mind to destroy what is

left of the Geraldine family. This was to be the beginning of

the war of extermination, and the nobility which at the time was

disunited became firmly consolidated shortly after.

It is needless to go into the glorious and romantic history of

the Geraldine family. Elizabeth chose them for the first object

of her attack, because they, as Anglo-Irish Catholics, were more

odious in her eye than the pure Irish.

She knew that the then Earl of Desmond had escaped almost by

miracle from the island with his younger brother John, when the

rest of the noble stock had been butchered at Tyburn. She knew

that Gerald, after many wanderings, had finally reached Rome,

been educated under the care of his kinsman, Cardinal Pole,

cherished as a dear son by the reigning Pontiff, had

subsequently appeared at the Tuscan court of Cosmo de Medici;

that consequently, since his return to Ireland, he might be

considered the chief of the Catholic party there, although, to

save himself from attainder and hold possession of his immense

wealth in Munster, he displayed the greatest reserve in all his

actions, appeared to respect the orders of the queen in all

things, even in her external policy against the Church; so that

if priests were entertained in his castles, it was always by

stealth, and they were compelled to lead a life of total

retirement.

But, despite all this outward show, Elizabeth knew that Gerald

was really a sincere Catholic, that he considered himself a

sovereign prince, and would consequently have small scruple

about entering into a league against her, not only with the

northern Irish chieftains, but even with the Catholic princes of

the Continent. She resolved, therefore, to destroy him.

Sidney was sent to Ireland as lord-lieutenant. He travelled

first through all Munster, and complained bitterly that the

Irish chieftains were destroying the country by their divisions,

though perfectly conscious that those divisions were secretly

encouraged by England. He appeared to listen to the people, when

they complained of their lords, and yet at the holding of

assizes he hanged this same people on the flimsiest pretexts,

and had them executed wholesale. In one of his dispatches to the

home government, he makes complacent allusion to the countless

executions which accompanied his triumphant progress through

Munster: "I wrote not," he says, "the name of each particular

varlet that has died since I arrived, as well by the ordinary

course of the law, and the martial law, as flat fighting with

them, when they would take food without the good-will of the

giver; for I think it is no stuff worthy the loading of my

letters with; but I do assure you, the number of them is great,

and some of the best, and the rest tremble. For the most part

they fight for their dinner, and many of them lose their heads

before they are served with supper. Down they go in every corner,

and down they shall go, God willing."--(Sidney's Dispatches, Br. M.)

This was the man who announced himself as the avenger of the

people on their rulers. He complained chiefly of Gerald of

Desmond, and, without any pretext, summoned him with his brother

John, carried them prisoners to Dublin, and afterward sent them

to the Tower of London. The shanachy of the family relates that

then, and then only, Gerald sent a private message to his

kinsmen and retainers, appointing his cousin James, son of

Maurice, known as James Fitzmaurice, the head and leader in his

family during his own absence.

"For James," says the shanachy, "was well known for his

attachment to the ancient faith, no less than for his valor and

chivalry, and gladly did the people of old Desmond receive these

commands, and inviolable was their attachment to him who was now

their appointed chieftain."

James began directly to organize the memorable "Geraldine League,

" upon the fortunes of which, for years, the attention of

Christendom was fixed.

This, the first open treaty of Irish lords with the Pope, as a

sovereign prince, and with the King of Spain, calls for a few

remarks on the right of the Irish to declare open war with

England, and choose their own friends and allies, without being

rebels.

The English were at this very time so conscious of the weakness

of their title to the sovereignty of Ireland, that they were

continually striving to prop up their claims by the most absurd

pretensions.

In the posthumous act of attainder against Shane O'Neill in the

Irish Parliament of 1569, Elizabeth's ministers affected to

trace her title to the realm of Ireland back to a period

anterior to the Milesian race of kings. They invented a

ridiculous story of a "King Gurmondus," son to the noble King

Belan of Great Britain, who was lord of Bayon in Spain--they

probably meant Bayonne in France--as were many of his successors

down to the time of Henry II., who possessed the island after

the "comeing of Irishmen into the same lande."--(Haverty, Irish

Statutes, 2 Eliz., sess. 3, cap. i.)

These learned men who flourished in the golden reign of

Elizabeth must have thought the Irish very easily imposed upon

if they imagined they could give ear to such a fabrication, at a

time when each great family had its own chronicler to trace its

pedigree back to the very source of the race of Miledh.

The title of conquest, at that time a valid one in all countries,

had no value with the Irish who never had been and never

admitted themselves to have been conquered. Had they not

preserved their own laws, customs, language, local governments?

Had the English ever even attempted to subject them to their

laws? They had openly refused to grant their pretended benefits

to those few "degenerate Irishmen" who in sheer despair had

applied for them. This policy of separation was adopted by

England with the view of "rooting out" the Irish. The English

Government could therefore only accept the natural consequence

of such a system--that the Irish race should be left to itself,

in the full enjoyment of its own laws and local governments.

The very policy of Henry VIII. and Elizabeth, as displayed in

their attempt to break down the clans by favoring "well-disposed

Irishmen" and setting them up, by fraudulent elections, as

chiefs of the various septs, proves that the English themselves

admitted the clans to be real nation--_nationes_--as they were

called at the time by Irish chroniclers and by English writers

even. It was an acknowledgment of the plain fact that the

natives possessed and exercised their own laws of succession and

election, their own government and autonomy.

The disappearance of the Ard-Righ, who had held the titular

power over the whole country, is no proof that the Irish

possessed no government: for they themselves had refused for

several centuries to acknowledge his power. The island was split

up into several small independent states, each with the right of

levying war, and making peace and alliance. Gillapatrick, of

Ossory, dispatched his ambassador to Henry VIII. to announce

that if he, the English king, did not prevent his deputy, Rufus

Pierce, of Dublin, from annoying the clans of Ossory,

Gillapatrick would, in self-defence, declare war against the

King of England. And the imperious Henry Tudor, instead of

laughing at the threat of the chieftain; was shrewd enough to

recognize its significance, and prevented it being carried into

execution by admitting the cause as valid, and submitting the

conduct of his deputy to an investigation.

Moreover, the principles by which Christendom had been ruled for

centuries, were just then being broken up by the advent of

Protestantism; and novel theories were being introduced for the

government of modern nations. What were the old principles, and

what the new; and how stood Ireland with respect to each?

In the old organization of Christendom, the key-stone of the

whole political edifice was the papacy. Up to the sixteenth

century, the Sovereign Pontiff had been acknowledged by all

Christian nations as supreme arbiter in international questions,

and if England did possess any shadow of authority over Ireland,

it was owing to former decisions of popes, who, being

misinformed, had allowed the Anglo-Norman kings to establish

their power in the island. Whatever may be thought of the bull

of Adrian IV., this much is certain: we do not pretend to solve

that vexed historical problem.

But, by rebelling against Rome, by rejecting the title of the

Pope, England threw away even that claim, and by the bull of

excommunication, issued against Elizabeth, the Irish were

released from their allegiance to her, supposing that such

allegiance had existed, solely built upon this claim.

So well was this understood at the time, that the Roman Pontiffs,

as rulers of the Papal States, the Emperors of Germany, as

heads of the German Empire, and the Kings of Spain and France,

always covertly and sometimes openly received the envoys of

O'Neill, Desmond, and O'Donnell, and openly dispatched troops

and fleets to assist the Irish in their struggle for their de

facto independence.

All this was in perfect accordance, not merely with the

authority which Catholic powers still recognized in the

Sovereign Pontiff, but even with the new order of things which

Protestantism had introduced into Western Europe, and which

England, as henceforth a leading Protestant power, had accepted

and eagerly embraced. By the rejection of the supreme

arbitration of the Popes, on the part of the new heretics,

Europe lost its unity as Christendom, and naturally formed

itself into two leagues, the Catholic and the Protestant. An

oppressed Catholic nationality, above all a weak and powerless

one, had therefore the right of appeal to the great Catholic

powers for help against oppression. And the pretension of

England to the possession of Ireland was the very essence of

oppression and tyranny in itself, doubly aggravated by the fact

of an apostate and vicious king or queen making it treason for a

people, utterly separate and distinct from theirs, to hold fast

to its ancient and revered religion.

Who can say, then, that Gregory XIII. was guilty of injustice

and of abetting rebellion when, in 1578, he furnished James

Fitzmaurice, the great Geraldine, with a fleet and army to fight

against Elizabeth? The authority greatest in Catholic eyes, and

most worthy of respect in the eyes of all impartial men--the

Pope-- thus endorsed the patent fact that Ireland was an

independent nation, and could wage war against her oppressors.

Here we have a stand-point from which to argue the question for

future times.

The rash or, perhaps, treacherous share taken by a few Irish

chieftains, in the schismatical and heretical as well as

unpatriotic decrees of the Parliament of 1541, and in the

subsequent ones of 1549, could compromise the Irish nation in

nowise, inasmuch as the people, being still even in legal

enjoyment of their own government, their chieftains possessed no

authority to decide on such questions without the full

concurrence of their clans, and these had already pronounced,

clearly enough and unmistakably, on the return of their lords

from their title-hunting expedition in England.

All the chroniclers of the time agree that "the people" was

invariably sound in faith, siding with the chieftains wherever

they rose in opposition to oppressive decrees, abandoning them

when they showed signs of wavering, even; but, above all, when

they ranged themselves with the oppressors of the Church. The

English Protestant writers of the period confirm this honorable

testimony of the Irish bards, by constantly accusing the natives

of a "rebellious" spirit.

The history of the Geraldine struggle is known to all readers of

Irish history, and does not enter into the scope of these pages.

We have, however, to consider the foreign aid which the

chieftains received, from Spain chiefly, and the causes of these

failures, which at first would seem to argue a lack of firmness

on the part of the Irish themselves. During the Geraldine wars,

and later on in what is called the rebellion of Hugh O'Neill and

Hugh O'Donnell, the King of Spain sent vessels and troops to the

assistance of the Irish. All these expeditions failed, and the

destruction of the natives was far greater than it might

otherwise have been, in consequence of the greater number of

English troops sent to Ireland to face the expected Spanish

invasion.

The same ill success attended the French fleet and army

dispatched to Limerick by Louis XIV. to assist James II., and,

later still, the large fleet and well-appointed troops sent by

the French Convention to the aid of the "United Irishmen," in

1798.

In like manner, the Vendeans, on the other side, those French

"rebels" against the Convention itself, received their death-

blow in consequence of the English who were sent to their succor

at Quiberon.

It seems, indeed, a universal historic law that, when a nation

or a party in a nation struggles against another, the almost

invariable consequence of foreign aid is failure; but no

conclusion can be deduced from that fact of lack of bravery,

steadfastness, even ultimate success, on the part of those who

rise in arms against oppression. Of the many causes which may be

assigned to that apparently strange law of history, the chief

are:

1. The difficulty of effecting a joint and simultaneous effort

between the insurgent forces and the distant friendly power.

Help comes either too soon or too late, or lands on a point of

the coast where aid is worse than useless, and where it only

throws confusion into the ranks of the struggling native forces,

whose plans are thus all disarranged, disconcerted, and thrown

into confusion. Add to this the dangers of the sea, the possibly

insufficient knowledge of the soundings and of the nature of the

coast, the differences of spirit, customs, and language, of the

two coalescing forces, and it may be easily concluded that the

chances of success, as opposed to those of failure, are but

scanty.

2. The forces against which the coalition is made are always

immeasurably increased for the very purpose of meeting it, its

purport being always known beforehand. In the case under

consideration, it were easy to show that Elizabeth was prompted

by the fear of Spain to be speedy in crushing the attempted

"rebellions" in the south and north. Historians have made a

computation of the troops dispatched from England by the queen,

and of the treasure spent in these expeditions during her reign,

and the result is astonishing for the times. In fact, the whole

strength of England was brought into requisition for the purpose

of overpowering Ireland.

In our own days, the successful insurrection of Greece against

Turkey seems at variance with these considerations. But the

independence of the Greeks was brought about rather by the

unanimous voice of Europe coercing Turkey than by the few troops

sent from France, or by the few English or Poles who volunteered

their aid to the insurgents.

The remarks we have made may be further corroborated by the

reflection that the successful risings of oppressed

nationalities, recorded in modern history, were wholly effected

by the unaided forces of the insurgents. Thus, the seven cantons

of Switzerland succeeded against Austria, the Venetian Republic

against the barbarians of the North, the Portuguese in the

Braganza revolution against Spain, and the United Provinces of

the Low Countries against Spain and Germany.

The only historical instance which may contravene this general

rule is found in the Revolution of the United States of America,

where the French cooperation was timely and of real use, chiefly

because the foreign aid was placed entirely under the control

and at the command of the supreme head of the colonists, General

Washington.

These few words suffice for our purpose.

The policy of Elizabeth toward the Irish nobility is well known

to our readers. The fate of the house of Desmond was, in her

mind, sealed from the beginning. It is now an ascertained fact

that she drove the great earl into rebellion, who, for a long

time, refused openly to avow his approbation of the

confederates' schemes, and even seemed at first to cooperate

with the queen's forces, in opposition to them. It was only

after his cousin Fitzmaurice and his brother John had been

almost ruined that, convinced of the determination of the

English Government to seize and occupy Munster with his five or

six millions of acres, he boldly stood up for his faith and his

country, and perished in the attempt.

It was then that "Protestant plantations" began in Ireland. The

confiscated estates of Desmond--which, in reality, did not

belong to him but to his tribe--were handed over to companies of

"planters out of Devonshire, Dorsetshire, and Somersetshire, out

of Lancashire and Cheshire, organized for defence and to be

supported by standing forces."--(Prendergast.)

Then the work set on foot by Henry II. in favor of Strongbow, De

Lacy, De Courcy, and others, was resumed, after an interval of

four hundred years, to be carried through to the end; that is to

say, to the complete pauperizing of the native race.

Among the "undertakers" and "planters" introduced into Munster

by Elizabeth, a word may not be out of place on Edmund Spenser

and Walter Raleigh, the first a great poet, the second a great

warrior and courtier. They both united in advocating the

extermination of the native race, a policy which Henry VIII. was

too high-minded to accept, and Elizabeth too great a despiser of

"the people" to notice. To Henry and Elizabeth Tudor the people

was nothing; the nobility every thing. Spenser, Raleigh, and

other Englishmen of note, who came into daily contact with the

nation, saw very well that account should be taken of it, and

thought, as Sir John Davies had thought before them, that it

ought to be "rooted out." That great question of the Irish

people was assuming vaster proportions every day; the people was

soon to show itself in all its strength and reality, to be

crushed out apparently by Cromwell, but really to be preserved

by Providence for a future age, now at hand to-day.

Spenser and Raleigh, being gifted with keener foresight than

most of their countrymen, were for the entire destruction of the

people, thinking, as did many French revolutionists of our own

days, that "only the dead never come back."

The author of the "Faerie Queene," who had taken an active part

in the horrible butcheries of the Geraldine war, when all the

Irish of Munster were indiscriminately slaughtered, insisted

that a similar policy should be adopted for the whole island. In

his work "On the State of Ireland," he asks for "large masses of

troops to tread down all that standeth before them on foot, and

lay on the ground all the stiff-necked people of that land." He

urges that the war be carried on not only in the summer but in

the winter; "for then, the trees are bare and naked, which use

both to hold and house the kerne; the ground is cold and wet,

which useth to be his bedding; the air is sharp and bitter, to

blow through his naked sides and legs; the kine are barren and

without milk, which useth to be his food, besides being all with

calf (for the most part), they will through much chasing and

driving cast all their calf, and lose all their milk, which

should relieve him in the next summer."

Spenser here employs his splendid imagination to present

gloatingly such details as the most effective means for the

destruction of the hated race. All he demands is, that "the end

should be very short," and he gives us an example of the

effectiveness and beauty of his system "in the late wars in

Munster." For, "notwithstanding that the same" (Munster) "was a

most rich and plentiful country, full of corne and cattle, . . .

yet ere one yeare and a half they" (the Irish) "were brought to

such wretchednesse as that any stony heart would have rued the

same. Out of every corner of woods and glynnes, they came

creeping forthe upon their hands, for their legges could not

beare them; they looked like anatomies of death; they spoke like

ghosts crying out of their graves . . . . that in short space

there were none almost left, and a most populous and plentiful

country suddenly left void of man and beast."

Such is a picture, horribly graphic, of the state to which

Munster had been reduced by the policy of England as carried out

by a Gilbert, a Peter Carew, and a Cosby; and to this pass the

"gentle" Spenser would have wished to see the whole country come.

Even Mr. Froude is compelled to denounce in scathing terms the

monsters employed by the queen, and his facts are all derived,

he tells us, from existing "state papers."

Writing of the end of the Geraldine war, he says: "The English

nation was at that time shuddering over the atrocities of the

Duke of Alva. The children in the nurseries were being inflamed

to patriotic rage and madness by the tales of Spanish tyranny.

Yet, Alva's bloody sword never touched the young, defenceless,

or those whose sex even dogs can recognize and respect.

"Sir Peter Carew has been seen murdering women and children, and

babies that had scarcely left the breast; but Sir Peter Carew

was not called on to answer for his conduct, and remained in

favor with the deputy. Gilbert, who was left in command at

Kilnallock, was illustrating yet more signally the same tendency.

" Nor "was Gilbert a bad man. As time went on, he passed for a

brave and chivalrous gentleman, not the least distinguished in

that high band of adventurers who carried the English flag into

the western hemisphere . . . . above all, a man of 'special

piety.' He regarded himself as dealing rather with savage beasts

than with human beings (in Ireland), and, when he tracked them

to their dens, he strangled the cubs, and rooted out the entire

brood.

"The Gilbert method of treatment has this disadvantage, that it

must be carried out to the last extremity, or it ought not to be

tried at all. The dead do not come back; and if the mothers and

babies are slaughtered with the men, the race gives no further

trouble; but the work must be done thoroughly; partial and

fitful cruelty lays up only a long debt of deserved and ever-

deepening hate.

"In justice to the English soldiers, however, it must be said

that it was no fault of theirs if any Irish child of that

generation was allowed to live to manhood."--(Hist. of Engl.,

vol. x., p. 507.)

These Munster horrors occurred directly after the defeat of the

Irish at Kinsale. Cromwell, therefore, in the atrocities which

will come under our notice, only followed out the policy of the

"Virgin Queen." And it is but too evident that the English of

1598 were the fathers or grandfathers of those of 1650. Both

were inaugurating a system of warfare which had never been

adopted before, even among pagans, unless by the Tartar troops

under Genghis Khan; a system which in future ages should shape

the policy, which was followed, for a short time, by the French

Convention in la Vendee.

Raleigh, as well as Spenser, seems to have been a vigorous

advocate of this system. It is true that his sole appearance on

the scene was on the occasion of the surrender of Smerwick by

the Spanish garrison; but the Saxon spirit of the man was

displayed in his execution of Lord Grey's orders, who, after,

according to all the Irish accounts, promising their lives to

the Spaniards, had them executed; and Raleigh appears to have

directed that execution, whereby eight hundred prisoners of war

were cruelly butchered and flung over the rocks in the sea. From

that time out the phrase "Grey's faith" (Graia fides) became a

proverb with the Irish.

After having succeeded in crushing Desmond and "planting "

Munster, the attention of Elizabeth was directed to the 0'Neills

and O'Donnells of Ulster. That thrilling history is well known.

It is enough to say that O'Donnell from his youth was designedly

exasperated by ill-treatment and imprisonment; and that as soon

as O'Neill, who had been treated with the greatest apparent

kindness by the queen, that he might become a queen's man,

showed that he was still an Irishman and a lover of his country,

he was marked out as a victim, and all the troops and treasures

of England were poured out lavishly to crush him and destroy the

royal races of the north.

In that gigantic struggle one feature is remarkable--that,

whenever the English Government felt obliged to come to terms

with the last asserters of Irish independence, the first

condition invariably laid down by O'Neill and O'Donnell was the

free exercise of the Catholic religion. For we must not lose

sight of the well-ascertained fact that the English queen, who

at the very commencement of her reign had had her spiritual

supremacy acknowledged by the Irish Parliament under pain of

forfeiture, praemunire, and high-treason, insisted all along on

the binding obligation of this title; and though at first she

had secretly promised that this law should not be enforced

against the laity, she showed by all her measures that its

observance was of paramount importance in her eyes.

Had the Irish followed the English as a nation, and accepted

Protestantism, Elizabeth would scarcely have made war upon them,

nor introduced her "plantations." All along the Irish were

"traitors" and "rebels" simply because they chose to remain

Catholics, and McGeoghegan has well remarked that, "not-

withstanding the severe laws enacted by Henry VIII., Edward VI.,

and Elizabeth, down to James I., it is a well-established truth

that, during that period, the number of Irishmen who embraced

the 'reformed religion' did not amount to sixty in a country

which at the time contained two millions of souls." And

McGeoghegan might have added that, of these sixty, not one

belonged to the people; they were all native chieftains who sold

their religion in order to hold their estates or receive favors

from the queen.

Sir James Ware is bold enough to say that, in all her dealings

with the Irish nobility, Elizabeth never mentioned religion, and

their right of practising it as they wished never came into the

question. She certainly never subjected them to any oath, as was

the case in England. Technically speaking, this statement seems

correct. Yet it is undeniable that Elizabeth allowed no Catholic

bishops or priests to remain in the island; permitted the Irish

to have none but Protestant school-teachers for their children;

bestowed all their churches on heretical ministers; closed, one

by one, all the buildings which Catholics used for their worship,

as soon as their existence became known to the police; in fact

obliged them to practise Protestantism or no religion at all.

In the eyes of Elizabeth a Catholic was a "rebel." Whoever was

executed for religion during her reign was executed for

"rebellion." The Roman emperors who persecuted the Church during

the first three centuries, might have advanced the same

pretences And indeed the early Christians were said to be

tortured and executed for their "violation of the laws of the

empire."

This point will come more clearly before us in considering the

second phase of the policy of Elizabeth, her direct interference

with the Church.

II. If the policy of England's queen had been one of treachery

and deceit toward the nobility, toward the Church it was

avowedly one of blood and destruction.

Well-intentioned and otherwise well-informed writers, among them

Mr. Prendergast, seem to consider that the main object of the

atrocious proceedings we now proceed to glance at was "greed,"

and that the English Government merely connived at the covetous

desires of adventurers and undertakers, who wished to destroy

the Irish and occupy their lands; for, as Spenser says "Sure it

was a most beautiful and sweete country as any under heaven,

being stored throughout with many goodly rivers, replenished

with all sorts of fish most abundantly; sprinkled with many very

sweete islands, and goodly lakes like little inland seas;

adorned with goodly woods; also full of very good ports and

havens opening upon England as inviting us to come into them."

Such, according to those writers, was the policy of England from

the first landing of Strongbow on the shores of Erin, and even

during the preceding four centuries, when both races were

Catholic, and the conversion of the natives to Protestantism

could not enter the thoughts of the invaders.

This, to a certain extent, is true. Still, it seems very

doubtful to us that Elizabeth should have undertaken so many

wars in Ireland, which lasted through her whole reign, and on

which she employed all the strength and resources of England,

merely to please a certain number of nobles who wished to find

foreign estates whereon to settle their numerous offspring.

The chief importance, in her eyes, of the conquest was clearly

to establish her spiritual superiority in that part of her

dominions. She would have left the native nobles at peace, and

even conferred on them her choicest favors, had they only

consented, as English subjects, to break with Rome. Rome had

excommunicated her; Pius V. had released her subjects from their

allegiance because of her heresy, and Ireland did not reject the

bull of the Pope. This in her eyes constituted the great and

unpardonable offence of the Irish. And that, for her, the whole

question bore a religious character, will appear more clearly

from her conduct toward the Catholic Church throughout her reign.

Into this part of our subject the examination of the step taken

by Pius V. naturally enters, and, in examining it, we shall see

whether, and how far, the Irish can be called rebels and

"traitors."

In his history of the Reformation, Dr. Heylin says of Elizae's

supremacy could not stand together, and she could not possibly

maintain the one without discarding the other." This is

perfectly true, and furnishes us with the key to all her church

measures.

She pretended to be a Catholic during Mary's reign; but it was

merely pretence. To persevere in Catholicity required of her the

sacrifice of her political aspirations; for the Church could not

admit of her legitimacy, and consequently her title to the crown

of England. Hence, upon the death of Mary Tudor, the Queen of

Scots immediately assumed the title of Queen of England; and

although the Pope, then Pius IV., did not immediately declare

himself in favor of Mary Stuart, but reserved his decision for a

future period, nevertheless, the view of the case adopted by the

Pontiff could not be mistaken. Elizabeth's legitimacy, or, as

Heylin has it, "legitimation and the Pope's supremacy could not

stand together." No course was left open to her, then, than to

reject the pontifical authority, and establish her own in her

dominions, as she did not possess faith enough to set her soul

above a crown; and the success of her father, Henry VIII., and

of her half-brother, Edward VI., encouraged her in this step.

This fully explains her policy. It became a principle with her

that, to accept the Pope's supremacy in spirituals, was to deny

her legitimacy, and consequently to be guilty of treason against

her. This made the position of Catholics in England and Ireland

a most trying one. But their moral duty was clear enough, and

every other obligation had to give way before that. In the

persecution which followed they were certainly martyrs to their

duty and their religion.

That the question of the succession in England was an open one,

must be admitted by every candid man. Who was the legitimate

Queen of England at the death of Mary Tudor? The Queen of Scots

assumed the title, and, as the legitimate offspring of the

sister of Henry VIII., she had the right to it as the nearest

direct descendant in the event of Elizabeth's pretensions not

being admitted by the nation. The nation at the time was in fact,

though not in right, the nobles, who enriched themselves at the

expense of the Church, and were therefore deeply interested in

the exclusion of Catholic principles. A Parliament composed of

the nobles had already acknowledged Elizabeth to the exclusion

of the Queen of Scots, and the former decision was reaffirmed as

against a "female pretender" supported by a foreign power,

namely, France.

England, that is to say, the corrupt nobility of the kingdom, by

taking upon itself that decision, refused to submit the question

to the arbitration of the Pope; and thus, for the first time,

the principles which had guided Christendom for eight hundred

years, were discarded. Yet, under Mary, the Catholic Church had

been declared the Church of the state; at her death, no change

took place; the mass of the people was still Catholic. It took

Elizabeth her whole reign to make the English a thoroughly

Protestant people. The great mass of the nation came

consequently then, even legally, under the law of mediaeval

times, which surrendered the decision of such cases into the

hands of the Roman Pontiff.

Again, when we reflect that our preset object is the

consideration of who was the legitimate Queen of Ireland, the

question becomes clearer and simpler still. The supremacy of

Henry VIII. had never been acknowledged in the island, even by

those who had subscribed to the decrees of the Parliament of

1541 and 1569. The Irish chieftains had not only never assented,

but had always preserved their independence in all, save the

suzerainty of the English monarchs, and they were at the time,

without exception, Catholics. For them, therefore, the Pope was

the expounder of the law of succession to the throne, as, up to

that time, he had been generally recognized in Europe. Elizabeth,

consequently, as an acknowledged illegitimate child, could not

become a legitimate queen without a positive declaration and

election by the true representatives of the people, approved by

the Pope. Her assumption, then, of the supreme government was a

mere usurpation. The theory of governments de facto being obeyed

as quasi-legitimate had not yet been mooted among lawyers and

theologians. With respect to the whole question, there can be no

doubt as to the conclusion at which any able constitutional

jurist of our days would arrive.

Could usurped rights such as these invest Elizabeth with

authority to declare herself paramount not only in political but

also in religious matters? And, because she was called queen,

can it be considered treason for an Irishman to believe in the

spiritual supremacy of the Pope? Yet, unless we look upon as

martyrs those who died on the rack and the gibbet in Ireland

during her reign, because they refused to admit in a woman the

title of Vicar of Christ, to such decision must we come.

The policy of the English queen toward Catholic bishops, priests,

and monks, presents the question in a still stronger light. Its

chief feature will now come before us, and will show how all of

these suffered for Christ. We say all, because not only those

are included in the category who held aloof from politics and

confined themselves to the exercise of their spiritual functions,

but those also who, at the bidding of the Pope, or following

the natural promptings of their own inclinations, favored the so-

called rebellion of the Geraldine and of the Ulster chieftains.

The lives and death of both are now well known, and to both we

award the title of heroes and Christian martyrs.

As it would be too long to present here a complete picture of

those events, and trace the biography of many of those who

suffered persecution at that time, we content ourselves with two

faithful representatives of the classes above mentioned--Richard

Creagh, Archbishop of Armagh, and Dr. Hurley, Archbishop of

Cashel. The case of the great Oliver Plunkett, who suffered

under Charles II., and who was the victim of the entire English

nation, is beyond our present discussion.

The biography of the first of these has been written by several

authors, who, agreeing as to the main facts of his history,

differ only in their chronology. Dr. Roothe's account is the

longest of all and is intricate, and subject to some confusion

with regard to dates; but a sketch of that life, which appeared

in the Rambler of April, 1853, is the most consistent and easily

reconciled with the well-known facts of the general history of

the period, and therefore we follow it:

Richard Creagh, proposed for the See of Armagh by the nuncio,

David Wolfe, arrived at Limerick in the August of 1560, at the

very beginning of the reign of Elizabeth. Pius IV., who was then

Pontiff, had not come to any conclusion respecting the

sovereignty of England, and did not openly declare himself in

favor of the right of Mary Stuart to the crown. The Pope, not

having given any positive injunctions to Archbishop Creagh, with

regard to his political conduct, the latter was left free to

follow the dictates of his conscience. He came only with a

letter, to Shane O'Neill, who, at the time, was almost

independent in Ulster.

Not only did the archbishop not take any part in the political

measures of the Ulster chieftain, who was often at war with

Elizabeth, but he soon came to a disagreement with him on purely

conscientious grounds, and finally excommunicated him. In the

midst of the many difficulties which surrounded him, he resolved

to inculcate peace and loyalty to Elizabeth throughout Ulster,

asking of Shane only one favor, that of founding colleges and

schools, and thinking that, by remaining loyal to the queen, he

might obtain her assistance in founding a university. The good

prelate little knew the character of the woman with whom he had

to deal, imagining probably that the decree of her spiritual

supremacy would remain a dead letter for the priesthood, as had

been falsely promised to the laity.

But he was not left long to indulge in these delusions; for, in

the act of celebrating mass in a monastery of his diocese, he

was betrayed by some informer, and was arrested by a troop of

soldiers, who conducted him before the government authorities,

by whom he was sent to London and confined in the Tower on

January 18,1565. He was there several times interrogated by

Cecil and the Recorder of London, who could easily ascertain

that the prelate was altogether guiltless of political intrigue.

He escaped miraculously, passed through Louvain, went to Spain,

at the time at peace with England, and, wishing to return to

Ireland, wrote, through the Spanish ambassador, to Leicester,

then all-powerful with the queen, to protest beforehand that, if

the Pope should order him to return to his diocese, he intended

only to render to Caesar what is Caesar's and to God what is

God's. Even then, after his prison experience of several months,

he thought that, if he could persuade Elizabeth that he was

truly loyal to her, she would forgive him his Catholicity.

Receiving no answer, he set sail for his country, where he

landed in August, 1566, and shortly after wrote to Sir Henry

Sidney, then lord-deputy, in the very terms he had used with

Leicester, and proposing in addition to use his efforts in

inducing Shane O'Neill to conclude peace.

What Sidney and his masters in London, Cecil and Leicester, must

have thought of the simplicity of this good man, it is

impossible to say. They condescended to return no answer to his

more than straightforward communication, save the short verbal

reply concerning O'Neill: "We have given forth speach of his

extermination by war."

The good prelate, after having so clearly defined his position,

thought he might safely follow the dictates of his conscience,

and govern his flock in peace; but he was soon taken prisoner,

in April, 1567, by O'Shaughnessy, who received a special letter

of thanks from Elizabeth for his services on this occasion.

Bv order of the queen, he was tried in Dublin; but, so clear was

the case before them, that even a Protestant jury could not

convict him. The honest Dublin jurors were therefore cast into

prison and heavily fined, while the prelate was once again

transferred to London, whence he a second time escaped by the

connivance of his jailor.

Retaken in 1567, he was handed over to the queen's officers,

under a pledge that his life would be spared. And, in

consequence of this pledge alone, was he never brought to trial,

but kept a close prisoner in the Tower for eighteen years, until

in 1585 he was, according to all reliable accounts, deliberately

poisoned.

This simple narrative certainly proves that in Elizabeth's eyes,

the mere sustaining the Pope's spiritual supremacy was treason,

and every Catholic consequently, because Catholic, a traitor

deserving death. True, the Irish prelates, monks, and people,

might have imitated the majority of the English nobles and

people in accepting the new dogma. In that case, they would have

become truly loyal and dutiful subjects, and been admitted to

all the rights of citizenship; the nobles would have retained

possession of their estates, the gentry obtained seats in the

Irish Parliament; while the common people, renouncing clanship,

absurd old traditions, the memory of their ancestors, together

with their obedience to the See of Rome, would not have been

excluded from the benefits of education; would have been allowed

to engage in trades and manufactures; would have been permitted

to keep their land, or hold it by long leases; would have

enjoyed the privilege of dwelling in walled towns and cities, if

they felt no inclination for agriculture. They would have become

no doubt "a highly-prosperous" nation, as the English and Scotch

of our days have become, partakers of all the advantages of the

glorious British Constitution, cultivating the fields of their

ancestors, and converting their beautiful island into a paradise

more enchanting than the rich meadows and wheat-fields of

England itself.

On the other hand, they would have obtained all those temporal

advantages at the expense of their faith, which no one had a

right to take from them; in their opinion, and in that of

millions of their fellow-Catholics, they would have forfeited

their right to heaven, and the Irish have always been

unreasonable enough to prefer heaven to earth. They have

preferred, as the holy men of old of whom St. Paul speaks, "to

be stoned, cut asunder, tempted, put to death by the sword, to

wander about in sheep-skins, in oat-skins; being in want,

distressed, afflicted, of whom the word was not worthy;

wandering in deserts, in mountains, in dens, and in the caves of

the earth, being approved by the testimony of faith:" that is to

say, having the testimony of their conscience and the approval

of God, and considering this better than worldly prosperity and

earthly happiness.

Turning now to those prelates, monks, and priests, who during

Elizabeth's reign took part in Irish politics against the queen,

can we on that account deny them the title of martyrs to their

faith?

Dr. Hurley, Archbishop of Cashel, whose memoirs were published

by Miles O'Reilly, may be taken as a type of this class. Suppose,

as well grounded, although never proved, the suspicion of the

English Government with regard to his political mission.

Prelates and priests, generally speaking, were put to death

under Elizabeth, or confined to dungeons on mere suspicion, and,

as we have seen in the case of the Archbishop of Armagh, even

clear proofs of their innocence would not save them.

On his father's side, Dr. Hurley was naturally in the interest

of James Geraldine, Earl of Desmond; and, on his mother's, he

belonged to the royal family of O' Briens of Munster.

Consecrated Archbishop of Cashel at Rome in 1550, under Gregory

XIII., during the Geraldine rebellion, he was compelled to use

the utmost precaution in entering Ireland. The police of

Elizabeth was particularly active at that time in hunting up

priests and monks throughout the whole island, but particularly

in the south.

The archbishop escaped all these dangers, and he avoided the

certain denunciation of Walter Baal, the Mayor of Dublin

probably, who was then actually persecuting his mother, Dame

Eleanor Birmingham; he fled to the castle of Thomas Fleming, who

concealed him in a secret chamber in his house and treated him

as a friend. But when everybody thought the danger past, and

that it was no longer imprudent for him to mix in the society of

the castle, he was suspected by an Anglo-Irishman of the name of

Dillon, denounced by him, and finally surrendered by Thomas

Fleming, and conveyed to Dublin, where proceedings were set on

foot against him by the Irish Council and the queen's ministers

in England.

His imprisonment was coincident with the suppression of the

rising in Munster, and the Earl of Desmond was beginning that

frightful outlaw-life which only ended with his miserable death.

The object of the archbishop's accusers was to connect him with

the designs of Rome and the Munster insurrection; and the state

papers preserved in London have disclosed to us the

correspondence between Adam Loftus, the Protestant Archbishop of

Dublin, on the one side, and Walsingham and Cecil on the other.

The only proofs of the Archbishop's having joined the southern

confederacy were: 1. Suspicions, as he was consecrated in Rome

about the time of the sailing of the expedition under James

Fitzmaurice; 2. The information of a certain Christopher

Barnwell, then in jail, who was promised his life if he could

furnish proofs enough to convict the prelate. The value of the

testimony of an "informer" under such circumstances is

proverbial; yet all Barnwell could allege was, that "he was

present at a conversation in Rome between Dr. Hurley and

Cardinal Comensis, the Pope's secretary, and, the result of the

whole conversation was, "that the doctor did not know nor

believe that the Earl of Kildare had joined the rebellion of

Fitzmaurice and Desmond, and he was rebuked by the cardinal for

not believing it."

This was considered overwhelming proof against him, in spite of

his positive denial. Torture was applied, but the most awful

sufferings could not wring from him the acknowledgment of having

taken part in the conspiracy. Yet Loftus and Wallop were of

opinion that he was a "rebel" and ought to be put to death. The

only difficulty which presented itself to the "Lords Justices"

of Ireland was, that there was no statute in Ireland against

"traitors" who had plotted beyond the seas, and they asked that

the archbishop should either be sent to be tried in England, or

tried in Ireland by martial law, which would screen them from

responsibility.

This last favor was granted them; and the holy archbishop was

taken from prison at early dawn, on a Friday, either in May or

June, 1584. He was barbarously hanged in a withey (withe)

calling on God, and forgiving his torturers with all his heart.

Our purpose is not to inveigh against this judicial murder, and,

by further details, increase the horror which every honest man

must feel at the narrative of such atrocious proceedings. We

will suppose, on the contrary, that the cooperation of the

Archbishop of Cashel with Fitzmaurice and Desmond, and even with

the Pope and King of Spain, had been clearly proved--as it is

certain that, if not in this case, at least in some others,

during the reign of Elizabeth, the bishops or priests accused

had really taken part in the attempt of the Irish to free

themselves from such tyranny--and insist that, even then, the

murdered Catholic ecclesiastics really died for their religion,

and could be called "rebels" in no sense whatever.

First, the question might arise as to how far the Irish were

subject to the English crown. We have seen how, a few years

before, Gillapatrick, of Ossory, asserted his right of making

war on England, when he felt sufficient provocation. Under

Elizabeth the case was still clearer, at least for Catholics,

after the excommunication of the queen by Pius V. As we have

seen, the chief title of England to Ireland rested on two

pretended papal bulls: another Pope could and did recall the

grant, which had been founded on misrepresentation. Up to that

time, there had been no real subjection by conquest, outside of

the Pale, which formed but an insignificant part of the island.

Under such circumstances, it must at least be admitted that a

radically and clearly unjust law, imposed by a foreign though

perhaps suzerain power, could be justly resisted by force of

arms. And such was the case in Ireland. The Queen of England--

the Irish Parliament of 1539 had no other authority than that of

the queen, and represented no part of the people--had made it

rebellion for the Irish to remain faithful to their religion.

What could prevent the Irish from resisting such pretension,

even at the cost of effusion of blood? The early Christians,

under the Roman Empire, it is true, never rose in arms against

the bloody edicts of the Caesars or the Antonines; but the cases

are not parallel.

Suppose that Greece or Asia Minor had never succumbed to the

Roman power, and had become entirely Christian: no one would

refuse to admit their right to offer armed resistance to the

extension of the edicts of persecution into their territory. On

the contrary, it would have been their duty to do so: and every

one of their inhabitants, who was taken and executed as a rebel,

would have been crowned with the martyr's crown.

At this point, indeed, comes in the consideration of the special

motive which animated each belligerent, even when fighting on

the right side. We are far from saying that all the Irishmen,

particularly the leaders and chieftains who at that time ranged

themselves under the banners of the Desmonds or the O'Neills,

fought purely for Christ and religion. Many of them, no doubt,

engaged in the contest from mere worldly motives, perhaps even

for purposes unworthy of Christians; and in this case, those who

fell in the struggle were in no sense soldiers of Christ.

But how many such are to be found among the bishops, priests, or

monks, who perished under Elizabeth? May it not be said of them

that, to a man, they fell for the sake of religion? We may even

be bold enough to say that the majority of the common Irish

people who lost their lives in those wars may be placed in the

same category as their spiritual rulers, being in reality the

upholders of right and the champions of Catholicity.

Let it be remembered that, at the period of which we speak, the

only real question involved in the contest was gradually

assuming more and more a religious character. Henry VIII. and

his deputy, St. Leger, had struck a fatal blow at clanship and

Irish institutions in general, by bestowing on and compelling

the chieftains to accept English titles, and by investing them

with new deeds of their lands under feudal tenure. By Elizabeth,

the same policy was steadily and successfully pursued, her court

being always graced by the presence of young Irish lords,

educated under her own eyes, and loaded with all her royal

favors. All she asked of them in return was that they should

become Queen's men. The repugnance once felt by Irishmen for

that gilded slavery was each day becoming less marked. But,

while every thing was seemingly working so well for the

attainment of Elizabeth's object at the commencement of her

reign, a new feature suddenly shows itself, and grows rapidly

into prominence --the attachment of the Irish to their religion,

and the violent opposition to the change always kept foremost in

view by the queen, namely the substitution of her spiritual

supremacy for that of the Pope.

Thus we find the Irish leaders, when proclaiming their

grievances, either on the eve of war, or the signing of a treaty

of peace, always giving their religious convictions the first

place on the list. The religious question, then, was becoming

more and more the question, and, notwithstanding all her fine

assurances that she would not infringe upon the religious

predilections of the laity, Elizabeth's great purpose, in

Ireland and in England, was to destroy Catholicity, by

destroying the priesthood, root and-branch.

The nobles showed how fully convinced they were of this, when

they carne to adopt a system of concealment, even of duplicity,

to which Irishmen ought never to have been weak enough to submit.

Not only were the practices of their religion confined to

places where no Englishman or Protestant could penetrate, but

gradually they allowed their houses--those sanctuaries of

freedom--to be invaded by the pursuivants of the queen,

searching for priests or monks "lately arrived from Rome."

Secret apartments were constructed by skilful architects in

noblemen's manors; recesses were artfully contrived under the

roofs, in roomy staircases, or even in basements and cellars.

There the unfortunate minister of religion was confined for

weeks and months, creeping forth only at night, to breathe the

fresh air at the top of the house or in the thick shrubbery of

the adjoining park. All the means of evading the law used by the

Christians of the first centuries were reproduced and resorted

to in Catholic Ireland by chieftains who possessed the "secret

promise" of the queen that their religion should not be

interfered with, and that her supremacy should not be enforced

against them.

Not thus did the people act: their keen sense of injustice took

in at once all the circumstances of the case. It was a religious

persecution, nothing else; and this the nobles also felt in

their inmost souls. The people saw the ministers of religion

hunted down, seized, dragged to prison, tried, convicted,

barbarously executed; they recognized it in its reality as a

sheer attempt to destroy Catholicity, and as such they opposed

it by every means in their power. They beheld the monks and

friars treated as though they had been wild beasts; the soldiers

falling on them wherever they met them, and putting them to

death with every circumstance of cruelty and insult, without

trial, without even the identification required for outlaws. Mr.

Miles O'Reilly's book, "Irish Martyrs," is full of cases of this

kind. Hence the people frequently offered open resistance to the

execution of the law; the soldiers had to disperse the mob; but

the real mob was the very troop commanded by English officers.

When at length the Irish lords no longer dared offer asylum to

the outlawed priesthood in their manors and castles, the hut of

the peasant lay open to them still. The greater the quantity of

blood poured out by the executors of the barbarous laws, the

greater the determination of the people to protect the oppressed

and save the Lord's anointed.

Then opened a scene which had never been witnessed, even under

the most cruel persecutions of the tyrants of old Rome. The

whole strength of the English kingdom had been called into play

to crush the Irish nobility during the wars of Ulster and

Munster; the whole police of the same kingdom was now put in

requisition for the apprehension and destruction of church-men.

Nay, from this very occupation, the great police system which

since that time has flourished in most European states, arose,

being invented or at least perfected for the purpose.

Then, for the first time in modern history, numbers of "spies"

and "informers" were paid for the service of English ministers

of state. Not only did the cities of England and Ireland, harbor

cities chiefly, swarm with them, but they covered the whole

country; they were to be found everywhere: around the humble

dwelling of the peasant and the artisan, in the streets and on

the highways, inspecting every stranger who might be a friar or

monk in disguise. They spread through the whole European

Continent--along the coast and in the interior of France and

Belgium, Italy and Spain, in the churches, convents, and

colleges, even in the courts of princes, and, as we have seen in

the case of Dr. Hurley, in the very halls of the Vatican. The

English state papers have disclosed their secret, and the whole

history is now before us.

To support this army of spies and informers, the soldiers of

that other army of England, who were employed either in keeping

England under the yoke or in crushing freedom and religion out

of Ireland, did not disdain to execute the orders which

converted them into policemen and sbirri. And it may be said, to

their credit, that they executed those orders with a ferocious

alacrity unequalled in the annals of military life in other

countries. If, during the most fearful commotions in France, the

army has been employed for a similar purpose, it must be

acknowledged that, as far as the troops were concerned, they

performed their unwelcome task with reluctance, and softened

down, at least, their execution, by considerate manners and

respectful demeanor. But these soldiers of Elizabeth showed

themselves, from first to last, full of ferocity. They generally

went far beyond the letter of their orders; they took an inhuman

delight in adding insult to injury, uniting in their persons the

double character of preservers of public order and ruffianly

executioners of innocent victims. Many and many a record of

their barbarity is kept to this day. We add a few, only to

justify our necessarily severe language:

"The Rev. Thaddeus Donald and John Hanly received their martyr's

crown on the 10th of August, 1580. They had long labored among

the suffering faithful along the southwestern coast of Ireland.

When the convent of Bantry was seized by the English troops,

these holy men received their wished-for crown of martyrdom.

Being conducted to a high rock impending over the sea, they were

tied back to back, and precipitated into the waves beneath."

"In the convent of Enniscorthy, Thaddeus O'Meran, father-

guardian of the convent, Felix O'Hara, and Henry Layhode, under

the government of Henry Wallop, Viceroy of Ireland, were taken

prisoners by the soldiers, for five days tortured in various

ways, and then slain."

"Rev. Donatus O'Riedy, of Connaught, and parish priest of

Coolrah, when the soldiers of Elizabeth rushed into the village,

sought refuge in the church; but in vain, for he was there

hanged near the high altar, and afterward pierced with swords,

12th of June, 1582."

"While Drury was lord-deputy, about 1577, Fergal Ward, a

Franciscan, . . . fell into the hands of the soldiery, and,

being scourged with great barbarity, was hanged from the

branches of a tree with the cincture of his own religious habit."

In order to find a parallel to atrocities such as these, we must

go back to the record of some of the sufferings of the early

martyrs--St. Ignatius of Antioch, for instance, who wrote of the

guards appointed to conduct him to Italy: "From Syria as far as

Rome, I had to fight with wild beasts, on sea and on land, tied

night and day to a pack of ten leopards, that is to say, ten

soldiers who kept me, and were the more ferocious the more I

tried to be kind to them."

Instances of such extreme cruelty are rare, even in the Acts of

the early martyrs, but they meet us every moment in the memoirs

of the days of Elizabeth. Both the police-spies and the soldier-

police were animated with the rage and fury which must have

possessed the soul of the queen herself; for, after all, the

cruelty practised in her reign, and mostly under her orders, was

not necessary in order to secure her throne to her, during life;

and, as she could hope for no posterity of her own, it was not

the desire of retaining the crown to her children which could

excuse so much bloodshed and suffering. She evidently followed

the promptings of a cruel heart in those atrocious measures

which constitute the feature of the home policy of her reign.

The persecution which raged incessantly throughout her long

career, in Ireland and England, is surely one of the most bloody

in the annals of the Catholic Church.

The Irish Race in the Past and the Present · 第 9 / 19 章