The gradual disappearance of the distinctively English population did
not pass unnoticed in England. During some hundreds of years there had
been many attempts to induce English families to emigrate to Ireland,
but without any great success. To the average English person Ireland
was an uncivilized country inhabited by savages and murderers.
Elizabeth's councillors, however, resolved to put into practice the
theories of previous viceroys and their advisers. A new English colony
was to be created, but instead of crowding all the emigrants into
Dublin, the bolder policy of scattering them all over the country was
adopted.
On the retirement of Sidney, Sir William Pelham was appointed Lord
Justice until the arrival of Lord Grey of Wilton, 'the hanging
viceroy.' Two years of systematic brutalities were as much as the
country and Elizabeth could stand. She recalled Grey and left the
government in the hands of Adam Loftus, Archbishop of Dublin, and Sir
Henry Wallop, treasurer, while she and her council, now firmly resolved
on the great 'plantation' scheme, could find a willing and a competent
instrument to carry out the plan. They found {72} one in Sir John
Perrott, and in June, 1584, he was made Lord Deputy.
[Sidenote: The undertakers]
Perrott was reputed to be a natural son of Henry VIII., whom he
resembled in appearance, and, although brought up in the household of
Thomas Perrott, who had married Mary Berkeley, Henry's mistress, he
soon exchanged the serene life of a country gentleman for the freer and
gayer court life of London. He was advanced rapidly in the royal
favour, and before his deputyship had had considerable experience of
Ireland. He now came as viceroy with a strong and definite policy,
fully determined to carry it to a successful issue. Munster was the
first province selected for the 'plantation' scheme. To induce English
families to flock to Ireland, huge estates were offered for next to
nothing. Fertile lands were given at rentals of a penny or twopence an
acre, and to allow the immigrants time to put their new homes in order,
no rent was asked during the first five years, and only half for the
following three. Those who took over twelve thousand acres were termed
'undertakers,' and required to settle or plant at least eighty-six
English families whose members were skilled in trades and the arts
agricultural. Undertakers of smaller estates planted a less number,
and so on in due proportion. It was a splendid scheme on paper, and
would, no doubt, have settled the Irish question effectively, but its
weak point was its total disregard of the Irish. The real owners of
the property were in hiding with prices on their heads, but the people
themselves were only awaiting {73} their opportunity to win back the
lands of their chiefs and restore them to their rightful owners.
The majority of the 'undertakers'--wealthy English noblemen and titled
adventurers--did not, of course, trouble to come to Ireland, though
they imported a number of families into the country. Two of the
'undertakers,' however, in Sir Walter Raleigh and Edmund Spenser, the
poet, actually resided on their new estates. Raleigh, as a reward for
butchering the peasantry, was given forty-two thousand acres; Spenser
was granted twelve thousand acres in Cork, and took up his residence in
Kilcolman Castle, residence in Ireland being the only condition upon
which he was given the stolen land. Spenser wrote the first three
books of the 'Faerie Queen' here, and his only absence from Ireland was
occasioned by a journey to London to secure the publication of his
masterpiece. On his return he married a country girl, and managed to
live in some peace until 1598, when the Earl of Tyrone, eager to avenge
his wrongs, roused the country. Kilcolman Castle was burnt to the
ground, and Spenser's youngest child perished in the flames. The poet,
penniless and ill, escaped to England to die in penury the following
year.
Perrott's policy required a certain ruthlessness to carry out, and
friend and foe alike became his victims. He could not be faithful to
Elizabeth and please all parties in Ireland. He shared the fate of his
predecessors who had adopted a similar policy, for he discovered that
he was being misrepresented in London by his personal enemies. These
included the Earl of Ormonde, Sir Richard {74} Brigham, and Sir
Nicholas Bagenal, and they even went to the length of bribing a priest
to forge treasonable letters in the viceroy's name. When Perrott
appealed to Elizabeth to be allowed to come to England and confront his
adversaries, the queen refused him his request, bidding him to continue
with his work.
He was destined to do England and Elizabeth at least one great service
during his viceroyalty. In the middle of 1586 a rumour reached Ireland
that Spain was about to strike a blow for Catholic Christendom.
Ireland was, of course, Catholic, and always remained so, although its
spiritual fathers were mostly 'vicars of Bray.' The native Irish
received the news joyfully, and waited anxiously for the day when the
might of Catholic Spain would annihilate Protestant England. Perrott
heard these rumours, and went to great trouble to verify them, with the
result that in 1587 he was able to send confidential despatches to
Queen Elizabeth informing her that Philip of Spain was preparing a
great fleet for the invasion and conquest of England. That fleet,
historically known as 'The Great Armada,' left its remnants off the
coast of Ireland in 1588.
[Sidenote: Perrott's retirement]
When the viceroy realized that his policy, while outwardly prosperous,
was never likely to develop into a permanent success, he prayed the
queen to permit him to retire. She was averse to this, but every
person of influence about the throne was approached by him until the
queen relented, and in 1588 the viceroy joyfully prepared to depart
from the country which he hated worse than the {75} pestilence. The
court of England was then in an idealized state, mainly as a result of
the rise of the great English school of dramatists and poets, and at
such a time Ireland must have seemed more than ever a place of exile.
Perrott, however, openly prided himself upon his success, and when he
appeared in Dublin in order to hand over the sword of state to his
successor, he made a fulsome speech in his own praise, declaring that
he left the country in peace and quietness, and hinting that if Sir
William Fitzwilliam, the incoming viceroy, informed Queen Elizabeth of
the fact, he would be very grateful. Sir William, as a gentleman, had
to acknowledge Perrott's eulogies, and then the ex-viceroy left the
country, feeling like a freed man. His last act was to present the
corporation of Dublin with a silver-gilt bowl bearing his arms and
crest, together with the motto 'Relinquo in pace.' The common people
had a certain rough affection for Perrott. He had not robbed
them--perhaps because they had nothing to lose--but at any rate they
gave him a great ovation, shedding tears of gratitude for the man whose
code of morals happily included a partiality for paying just debts.
Sir William Fitzwilliam had already experienced the advantages and
disadvantages of the viceregal position in Ireland. He married a
sister of Sir Henry Sidney, a woman with a strength of character that
absorbed her husband's. Every act during Fitzwilliam's tenure of
office was said to have originated from the fertile brain of Lady
Fitzwilliam, and she was openly hailed as the real {76} ruler of
Ireland. But even Lady Fitzwilliam could not govern without money, and
in 1594 she retired with her husband. Fitzwilliam is best known as the
Governor of Fotheringay Castle at the time of the execution of Mary,
Queen of Scots. Sir William Russell, his successor, was the youngest
son of the Earl of Bedford, but his two years of office brought him
nothing but censure from the queen. Russell's principal fault was that
he kept his word of honour to the rebel Earl of Tyrone. The latter
came in person to Dublin Castle at the invitation of the viceroy, and
made submission. Contented with this, the Lord-Lieutenant permitted
him to depart, but Elizabeth wished for the imprisonment of the rebel,
and, consequently, Russell retired to make way for Lord Gainsborough.
In 1603 he was created a peer by James I. A year sufficed for
Gainsborough, who died at his post. Sir Thomas Norris, Lord Justice,
acted until superseded by Adam Loftus, Archbishop of Dublin, Sir Robert
Gardiner, and the Earl of Ormonde.
[Sidenote: Queen Elizabeth's favourite]
Their services were dispensed with when Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex,
arrived in Dublin on April 15, 1599, his appointment dating from March
12, 1598. The Earl of Essex was one of the most romantic figures in
the later court of Queen Elizabeth. When, as a boy of ten, Robert
Devereux appeared at court, the queen was fascinated by his beauty and
his charming manners. She sent for him later, and his early days were
distinguished by the confidence of the queen. Elizabeth was an old
woman when Essex was in {77} the first flower of his manhood, but he
was as crafty as he was handsome, and he made every use of his power
over the queen, a monarch aping youth with the aid of powder and paint.
She made Essex the most powerful of courtiers, and he attempted to
reserve her favour for himself. When the queen showed kindness to
Charles Blount, Lord Mountjoy, Essex, ever passionate and prone to
quarrel, sought out his rival and challenged him to a duel. The result
was abortive, but it was only one of a series of incidents which showed
Elizabeth that she was raising Essex higher than his peculiar
temperament made promotion safe. On one occasion he actually
reproached the queen, who in a moment of rage forgot her pose of youth,
and boxed the earl's ears. But he was still in the royal favour when
Elizabeth sent him to Ireland with fifteen thousand men, his mission
being to crush the rebellion of O'Neill, Earl of Tyrone. From her
palace in London the queen wrote almost daily to the viceroy, seldom
commending him, often hampering, and always petulant and capricious.
Essex tried one or two encounters with the enemy, and found the
battlefields of Ireland profitless and dangerous to the health of one
whose chivalry was better suited to the drawing-room. He hastily
concluded a treaty of peace with Tyrone, appointed Lords Justices to
carry on the government, and repaired to England on September 24,
having spent less than five months in Ireland. Only one who was
certain of Elizabeth's favour could have dared to do such a thing, but
Essex entered {78} London in the temper of a spoilt child, prepared to
rail at the queen for having dared to criticize him, and no doubt
expecting to receive her apologies. The queen upset his calculations
by having him arrested promptly, and although the public offered up
prayers for his restoration to the good graces of the queen, these
prayers were unanswered, because Essex was not the man to believe in
his sovereign's determination. The arrest he regarded as a joke--in
bad taste, perhaps, but still a joke--and when its seriousness dawned
upon him he tried to retaliate in kind. In 1601 he was executed. The
charges against him were, first, with making a dishonourable treaty
with the rebels, and, second, leaving his Government without the
permission of the authorities--that is, the queen and Council. When
released from the Tower and ordered to remain at York House, Essex
attempted a rebellion, and the spoilt darling of fortune paid the
penalty with his life.
[Illustration: Lord Mountjoy]
[Sidenote: Lord Mountjoy]
The next viceroy, Sir Charles Blount, afterwards Lord Mountjoy, was a
typical product of the Elizabethan court. He had been Essex's friend
and afterwards his enemy, and when the earl retired prematurely from
Ireland, Elizabeth sent Mountjoy to reopen the war against O'Neill and
to crush him, irrespective of the treaty of security and peace signed
by Essex in Elizabeth's name. He carried out his duties faithfully,
and succeeded in driving the Tyrones out of their territory. On the
final defeat of O'Neill, that chieftain made submission, and Mountjoy
was graciously pleased to forgive the rebel and restore his title and
{79} estates to him. While in Ireland Mountjoy received a letter from
Essex, then a prisoner on parole at York House, asking him to bring his
army from Ireland, join a promised army of the King of Scotland, and
drive Elizabeth's advisers from power. Mountjoy at once declined to
hazard his own neck, and he left Essex to his fate. The hope that the
earl placed on the viceroy was inspired by the latter's affection for
Penelope, sister of Lord Essex. This lady was so notorious that even
Queen Elizabeth had to refuse to receive her, but her faults were the
faults of the age she lived in. At a very early age, and without
having her wishes consulted at all, Penelope was married to an old roue
named Lord Rich, a man of filthy habits and loathsome ways. Penelope
bore him seven children, but the gross brutalities of her husband drove
her into the arms of Sidney, and when she became Mountjoy's mistress,
she had five children by him. The viceroy, however, was a faithful
lover, and when Lord Rich divorced her after Mountjoy's resignation of
his post, the viceroyalty, he married her, inducing his private
chaplain, Laud, to perform the ceremony. The act of Laud's very nearly
ruined his career, and, at any rate, it stood in the way of his
promotion for several years. It is said that Mountjoy did intend to
come to the rescue of his mistress's brother, and certainly Elizabeth,
who wanted Mountjoy's services, suppressed a confession by a prisoner
which, had it become public, must have cost Lord Mountjoy his head. As
it was, he held the viceroyalty until 1603, and could have {80}
remained longer, for King James confirmed his appointment. Mountjoy,
however, wanted his Penelope, and he left Ireland for her sake. James
rewarded him with the Earldom of Devonshire, but as all his children
were illegitimate, the titles died with him.
[Sidenote: The Order of the Baronetage]
The late viceroy's deputy, Sir George Cary, enjoyed only a few months
in office, for Sir Arthur Chichester, afterwards Lord Chichester of
Belfast, was given the post, and came to Ireland early in 1605.
Chichester was forty-one, but he had already nearly thirty years'
experience of public affairs, including the fight against the Armada.
In his early youth he had assaulted an inoffensive citizen, and had
fled from London to Ireland, but Elizabeth pardoned him and found him
employment. Fortunately for Chichester, Lord Mountjoy took him into
favour, and when the latter returned to England, and was appointed
adviser to James on Irish affairs, he nominated Chichester as the most
suitable person to govern Ireland. This viceroy made it a condition
that religious persecution in Ireland should be abolished. Every
precedent was against the continuance of a protracted and futile
attempt to force an objectionable religion upon the majority of the
people, and when he secured this concession to common sense from James
and Mountjoy, Chichester must have realized that he was in a fair way
to make his term of office a success. Some luck attended him. He was
given a good army, and very early in his career in Ireland two of his
most dangerous opponents, Tyrone and Tyrconnell, left Ireland {81} for
ever. Chichester then proceeded to colonize Ulster. The order of the
Baronetage was created in 1611, and the title sold for L1,080, the
proceeds being intended to pay the expenses of the colonization of
Ulster. The large estates of the Tyrone and Tyrconnell families were
distributed amongst the native Irish, the English and some planters
from Scotland, Chichester himself being rewarded with a peerage. It
was a wise move on his part, moreover, to give first choice to the
native Irish in the matter of the division of the land, for he knew
that peace could only be purchased at a price.
On these lines he governed Ireland for twelve years, and when he
retired in 1614, he had the satisfaction of earning the praise of those
he ruled and those he served. His wife, a daughter of Sir John
Perrott, does not appear to have taken a very prominent part in Irish
life. She was an invalid and contemptuous of the Irish, though the
records of some of their entertainments in Dublin Castle prove that she
was lavish in her hospitality, and even invited the heads of the great
Irish families.
Sir Oliver St. John was in 1616 appointed Viceroy of Ireland. During
the interval the Government had been in the hands of Adam Loftus, the
indispensable Archbishop of Dublin, whose power was as great as his
cupidity and avarice. St. John was a typical soldier of fortune, who
had found fame and fortune on the battlefields of the Continent. In
1580, when twenty-one, he was called to the Bar at Lincoln's Inn, out a
legal career ended suddenly as the result of a duel with Best, the
navigator. Best died, and {82} St. John fled the country, but after
many profitless years he had the luck to come under the notice of the
Earl of Essex at Rouen. Essex, who was in need of brave soldiers,
enlisted St. John, and took him to Ireland to fight against Tyrone. In
a few years St. John was elected member for Roscommon in the Irish
Parliament, and followed that up by entering the English House of
Commons as member for Portsmouth. Mountjoy knighted him and made him
president of Connaught, so that when in 1616 he was made viceroy, he
brought to the office a great experience of Irish affairs.
His first official act was to banish all those ecclesiastics educated
abroad, his second, to make the Protestant religion compulsory, and his
third, even more remarkable, took the form of a proposal to emigrate
100,000 Irish persons. This was a short method of dealing with a
pressing problem, but it was hopelessly impracticable, and St. John,
less successful as a statesman than as soldier, was commanded to
deliver the sword of state to Adam Loftus, and return to England.
Henry Gary, Viscount Falkland, who succeeded, tried to carry on the St.
John policy. Proclamations were issued extensively, and all the Irish
were ordered to go to heaven by the Protestant road. Strangely enough,
while Lord Falkland was doing his best to establish the Protestant
religion, Lady Falkland was secretly a Catholic, and supplying the
priests with money. For over twenty years she kept her secret from her
husband, but he discovered it eventually, and promptly separated from
her. The Privy Council, called {83} upon to judge between husband and
wife, declared Falkland's act justified, but ordered him to pay her
L500 a year. Falkland retired in 1629 with the character of an
unreliable, timid man.
[Sidenote: The Earl of Strafford]
Another period of government by Council and Lords Justices covered the
years from 1628 to 1633, and then Thomas Wentworth, Earl of Strafford,
one of the great figures of the early days of the Civil War, was chosen
by Charles I. to represent him in Ireland. Wentworth's appointment was
dated 1632, but that nobleman did not hurry to take over his post, and
besides, there were many urgent affairs to keep him at home. Wentworth
was leader of the House of Commons, and at the first encounter with the
king stood by the Commons. Charles, however, determined to secure his
personal adherence, and by means of titles, the bait of kings,
Wentworth foreswore his radical opinions, came over on to the king's
side, and was ever afterwards a most zealous and devoted servant of the
Crown. When Charles conferred with his advisers upon the coming
struggle with the people, Wentworth made the first practical suggestion
by subscribing L20,000 towards the royal treasury. Wentworth was,
therefore, the most trusted of the King's advisers, and he was sent to
Ireland with the object of raising money for His Majesty.
The new viceroy hastily summoned a Parliament at Dublin, and persuaded
it to vote L180,000 for the king's use against the army of the
Covenanters. Further, Wentworth raised an army with the object of
invading England and joining {84} Charles's forces. The intention was
never carried out; but when Thomas Wentworth, Earl of Strafford, stood
his trial at Westminster Hall, on April 5, 1641, the principal charge
against him was that he had raised an army of Irish Papists to make war
upon His Majesty's subjects. Strafford was executed on May 12.
His history concerns England rather than Ireland, but he had
considerable influence upon the latter country, and did something
towards placing Irish industries upon a better footing. In an age of
wars and rebellions the reformer was out of place, but Ireland owes
something to the Earl of Strafford's memory. When he died, Ireland
mourned for him, and Sir Charles Wandesford, who had acted as one of
his deputies, died of a broken heart upon hearing the news.
[Illustration: Earl of Strafford]
[Sidenote: The civil war]
The fatal year of 1641 found Ireland without a viceroy. The Lords
Justices ruled in Dublin, but they carried no authority. Throughout
the country it was said that England had abandoned her compatriots.
The Great Rebellion followed as a matter of course. Centuries of
oppression, outrage, robbery, and every other form of tyranny produced
their natural offspring. The native Irish, who had not accepted the
dictum that time legalizes robbery and sanctifies wrong, rose in their
passions and slaughtered the 'planted' settlers. The less said about
the rebellion the better. The history of the world shows that when the
democracy rises to avenge its wrongs, the innocent pay the debts of the
guilty.
Robert Sidney, Earl of Leicester, should have {85} succeeded Strafford,
but he lingered in England, conscious that his own country would be the
centre of great events. He asked his son, Lord Lisle, to take his
place, but that young man had no taste for the rigours of Ireland. His
prognostications were justified, and with the outbreak of the Civil War
Lord Leicester abandoned all intention of taking up the office of
viceroy. Charles wanted every available soldier, and Ireland was left
to look after itself. There was a nominal Government in Dublin, and
the Earl of Ormonde, at the beginning of his splendid career, was
Commander-in-Chief. Ormonde was a devoted royalist, and in the king's
hour of need sent him 5,000 soldiers from Ireland, paying their
expenses himself. In the midst of his worries Charles found time to
show his gratitude by making Ormonde a marquis, and appointing him
Viceroy of Ireland. This was in 1644, but strong man as he was,
Ormonde's tenure of office was shorn of all its glory and strength. He
was destined later to play a leading--the leading--part in Irish
affairs; but during the Civil War there was no effective government in
Ireland, and the country went back to its ruling chiefs, and Dublin and
a few provincial towns sheltered the remnants of the party that looked
to England for protection and guidance. Lord Ormonde's determination
was to hold Ireland for the king, and with this object he strengthened
the garrison towns. The massacres of the settlers in the North he had
punished, but until the settlement of the conflict in England he was in
a dangerous and anomalous position.
{86}