CHAPTER XIV.

THE PLANTERS’ PARLIAMENT.

With the coming of the Planters, Chichester, being by law disabled

from holding land without the King’s sanction, grew anxious as to

the title of his ill-gotten estates. Many of his Deeds were open to

attack, and safety could only be found in confirmation by Act of

Parliament. James I. had contemplated, on his accession, the calling

together of the Irish Legislature. His order of the 11th September,

1603, as to the pardoned chiefs, mentions “an Act to be passed in

the next assembling of Parliament there for the restoration in

blood of the Earl of Tyrone, his brother, and their heirs.” On the

16th October, 1604, when appointing Chichester Deputy, he informed

him that he “intended to call a Parliament” in Ireland. Sir Arthur

disliked the idea and blocked it, as he wished to compass the ruin

of the native princes. Besides, a Parliament would have created a

counter-authority to dwarf his power.

After the Flight of the Earls and the Plantation of Ulster the

situation changed. Sway had forsaken the Gael, and a Parliament

which native chiefs might control was no longer to be feared. As

for the mass of the people, if the manufacture of a majority were

attended to with foresight the Deputy knew they could easily be

mastered. Conquered Ireland was now shired and sheriffed, with 17 new

counties added. In the previous Parliament of Elizabeth only fifteen

counties were represented. The drawback that the greater part of the

inhabitants of the island were Catholics was one which called for

circumspection lest a majority of their representatives should belong

to that “damnable superstition.” It had become a cardinal part of

State policy that the handful of imported Protestants should control

everything, and arrangements were made accordingly.

In 1612 the King agreed that a Parliament should be summoned for the

following year, and the Deputy was to see to it that the Planters

should be enabled to outvote the natives. When Henry VIII. shired

Wales, and admitted its representatives to a voice at Westminster, a

different spirit prevailed. No trickery was practised on the Cymri;

but in Ireland King James issued charters to 40 hamlets whereby sham

“Corporations” exclusively Protestant, returning two members each,

were set up at various cross-roads. In the quaint language of the

day:—“They were erected in places that constantly pass the rank of

the poor villages in the poorest country in Christendom.” Bunches of

“freemen,” numbering a dozen or a score, were named in each charter

to elect a brace of representatives, and thus at a stroke 80 reliable

Protestants were secured. The sheriffs did the rest. In 1613 by this

strategy a Protestant majority of 28 was created in the House of

Commons of a country where the Catholics were twenty to one. To mark

the King’s approval of Chichester’s courses he was made a peer and

highly commended.

The Anglo-Irish gentry of the ancient faith protested against his

electoral arrangements, but were laughed at. They carried their

plaints to the King in London, and were imprisoned or abused as

“recusants.” Such of them as were not lodged in the Tower or the

Fleet were only allowed to return home to witness the Deputy’s

triumph. “Hurly-burlies and other unnecessary stirs were moved in

sundry places,” but all to no purpose. The packed Parliament met,

and the Commons made Sir John Davies Speaker, after a feverish

protest from the Anglo-Irish. When it proceeded to business its

first enactment was that O’Neill and the Northern chiefs, dead or

alive, stood attainted of high treason; that their estates were

forfeited, and their Letters Patent void. The cleavage between the

Anglo-Catholics and the disfranchised natives was such that the

Bill of Attainder passed unanimously, and was proposed by Sir John

Everard, the “recusant” candidate for Speaker, who had renounced a

judgeship rather than take the oath of apostacy. Six Ulster counties

were then made the Royal demesne.

Now came the moment for Chichester’s privy turn. He had a year before

procured the assent of the English Privy Council to the “heads” of

several measures which he desired to pass, including one “to confirm

the Patents of Ulster Undertakers.” Some shift of wind afterwards set

in at Whitehall against him, and his Majesty, scenting his purpose,

thwarted it. No sufficient ground for this sudden disfavour anywhere

appears. The records of State are often a blank at the most critical

moments.

Perhaps the King was smarting at the havoc wrought by his lordship’s

grants; perhaps he bemoaned the £2,500 “compensation” paid from his

purse to free the Bann and Lough Foyle; perhaps he grudged the Deputy

the £10,000 he extracted from Parliament “for extraordinary equipage

and porte.” Perhaps he learnt of the £10,000 of the embezzled

Ulster rents. At any rate, James I. was vexed with his new peer,

and determined he would not allow him to “cook” statutes as he had

cooked Patents. Cecil was dead, and the influence which the hunchback

wielded was lacking. In the royal councils Cecil’s enemies openly

complained of the way in which he had tolerated the devastation

of Crown lands. Sir Richard Cooke, the Irish Chancellor of the

Exchequer, urged Chichester’s removal, and wrote bitterly of the

disorders he witnessed, although formerly he had supported the Deputy.

The first sign of royal estrangement appears in a Letter of the

25th March, 1615, which complains of slackness in forwarding the

Plantation. To it the King added a postscript in his own hand,

requiring “zeal and uprightness” from the Deputy. Accompanying this

querulous dispatch came a request for a subsidy, and his Majesty

promised that, if it were voted, the sittings of Parliament would

be prolonged. Chichester meekly bore the rebuke in order to get the

Bills he wanted passed, and asked Parliament to grant the money.

Both Houses obsequiously agreed, but no sooner had the subsidy

been sanctioned than James, in spite of his promise, dissolved the

assembly before the Bills could even be brought in.

This blow fell on the 22nd August, 1615; and deadlier thunderbolts

were to descend. The King’s excuse for breaking faith was the

expense to the public of “Members’ wages.” It was a hollow plea, for

the total cost only came to £223. Chichester dispatched a protest

against the Dissolution, and sent Davies to London to represent how

important, in the interests of a distracted people, were the measures

he needed. He hurried to Ulster himself, and from there sent a

cunning letter to the King describing the hardships of the Planters

and his zeal in their regard.

James was not moved, and even displayed a temper which the “subsidy”

had not sweetened. The crestfallen Attorney-General brought back

word from Court that “heavy imputations” had been laid against the

authors of the mis-government and maladministration of the country.

The alarmed Deputy tremblingly penned an elaborate defence, but a

week later (22nd November, 1615) a royal missive dismissing him

was signed. The packed Parliament had been dispersed without doing

anything to validate his grants.

The want of “zeal and uprightness” in forwarding the Plantation,

of which James I. accused the Government, is probably the smallest

fault that can be laid at the ex-Deputy’s door. The character of the

Planters affords some clue to this lack of enthusiasm. Chichester

had no wish to stimulate the import of undesirables, whereas the

King knew nothing of their calibre. The best justification of the

slackness alleged in encouraging such migrants is to be found in the

description of them by their own clergymen. Who and what they were

is told by the Rev. Mr. Stewart:—

“From Scotland came many, and from England not a few, yet all of them

generally the scum of both nations; who, from debt or breaking and

fleeing from justice, or seeking shelter, came hither, hoping to be

without fear of man’s justice, in a land where there was nothing,

or but little as yet, of the fear of God. And in a few years there

flocked such a multitude of people from Scotland that these northern

counties of Down, Antrim, Londonderry, etc., were in a good measure

planted, which had been waste before. Yet most of the people were

all void of godliness, who seemed rather to flee from God to this

enterprise than to follow their own mercy.... Thus on all hands

atheism increased, and disregard of God; iniquity abounded, with

contention, fighting, murder, adultery, etc., as among people who,

as they had nothing within them to overawe them, so their ministers’

example was worse than nothing.... For their carriage made them to

be abhorred at home in their native land, insomuch that going for

Ireland was looked on as a miserable mark of a deplorable person.

Yea, it was turned into a proverb; and one of the worst expressions

of disdain that could be invented was to tell a man that Ireland

would be his hinder end.”

Professor Reid, the historian of the Irish Presbyterian Church,

paints the same picture:—“Ulster was now occupied by settlers, who

were willing enough to receive and respect ministers when sent, but

who were far from being generally characterised by a desire for

enjoying religious ordinances. On the contrary, a great number of

those who accompanied the original proprietors, and who occupied

their lands, were openly profane and immoral in their conduct, and

were generally inattentive to the sacred institutions of the Gospel.”

A third minister, the Reverend Mr. Blair, writes:—“The most part

were such as either poverty, scandalous lives, or, at the best,

adventurous seeking of better accommodation, had forced thither,

so that the security and thriving of religion was little seen to

by those adventurers; and the preachers were generally of the same

complexion with the people.”

The Londoners sent a respectable contingent to County Derry; and

Chichester’s antipathy to them can only be connected with his

designs on the fisheries and his hope to break down the Plantation.

Constant complaint of his henchman, Captain Phillips, was made by

the Corporation, who, doubtless, represented their grievances to

the King. They left on record a protest against the antagonism of

Phillips, who was but a stirring-stick of mischief for the Deputy.

Commentators on the sudden “disburthenment” of that powerful satrap

have groped in the dark for an explanation. There can now be little

doubt that it was provoked by the remonstrances of the Corporation.

His lordship’s hostility to them sprang from the wish to upset their

enterprise in order to fasten a hold on Lough Neagh and the Bann.

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