Ireland under the Tudors. Volume 3 (of 3)

Bingham follows the Scots by night, and annihilates them at the Moy

Bingham left Castlemore-Costello in the afternoon of Wednesday, halted at Bannada Abbey two hours after nightfall, and marched by moonlight to Aclare. With the morning light, he says, ‘we forsook the highway, and took through the mountains with horsemen, footmen, and carriage, carrying all our own forces as in a “heyrse” together, keeping the bottoms and lowest passages as near as we might by circumferent ways, and with as great silence as was possible.’ Reaching firm ground about nine o’clock, Bingham learned that the enemy were only two miles away, and pushed on at once with his cavalry, the advanced guard actually riding into their camp unchallenged. The Scots got into order as quickly as they could, Bingham skirmishing until his foot came up. He had the advantage of ground, and the Redshanks broke at the first charge. ‘I was never,’ said Captain Woodhouse, ‘so weary with killing of men, for I protest to God, for as fast as I could I did but hough and paunch them.’ In an hour all was over. About eighty swam naked over the Moy, and were mostly killed by the natives whom they had come to fight for; the rest became entangled in each other, and, to use Bingham’s own expression, were carried out to sea in ‘plumpes.’ Both their leaders were slain. A thousand corpses lay on the field, and 500 more were found next day about the banks and shallows. ‘The number of their fighting-men slain and drowned that day we estimated and numbered to be 1,400 or 1,500, besides boys, women, churls, and children, which could not be so few as as many more and upwards.’ If it be true that Bingham only lost two or three men, and those chiefly through their own folly, the surprise must have been more complete than we should infer from the English accounts. ‘They were,’ says the Four Masters, ‘first aroused from their profound slumbers by the shrieks of their military attendants, whom the Governor’s people were slaughtering throughout the town. The Scots then arose expertly, and placed themselves, as well as they were able, in order and battle array.’150

Perrott insists on going to ConnaughtBad feeling between Perrott and Bingham

Bingham had asked for only 250 men from Perrott, and had particularly requested that the Deputy should not enter Connaught. He complained that the aid was tardily sent, and that much of the effect of his victory would be taken away if he were not left to follow it up in his own way. The Council also opposed Perrott’s expedition, but notwithstanding this and the rebuke he had received from the Queen for visiting Ulster under similar circumstances, he set out upon the journey, but had only reached Mullingar at the date of Bingham’s victory. He went on to Galway, though his retinue were a heavy burden to the province. He took cattle for their use at a forced price, and thus broke the composition which had been made in his name, but chiefly through Bingham’s exertions. Perrott afterwards declared that the journey only cost the Queen 100l., that Bingham had requested his presence, and that the Council had given him leave to go. But it is impossible to reconcile these statements with those made in a hostile sense. At first the Council altogether refused their consent, and then, when some of Perrott’s opponents were absent and more of his supporters present, they agreed, by no means unanimously, that he should go to the borders of Connaught only. After the overthrow of the Scots there was no longer any valid reason for going forward. Bingham complained that at Galway the Lord Deputy did nothing but hunt up evidence against him, so as, if possible, to make it appear that his misgovernment had made the Burkes rebel. The chief men of the clans were, however, induced to sign a paper in which they declared their confidence in the Governor. They said their revolt was caused by what they could not deny to be commendable reforms. It had been reported that ‘this new governor would make their churls their masters, and that the gentlemen were like to become beggars for want of their cuttings and spendings, and such other exactions as they compelled the tenants to yield unto them at their own devotion.’ This and the destruction of their old tribal organisation, by abolishing the name and power of MacWilliam, were the real causes of the outbreak; and surely we need look no farther. It is impossible to say whether Perrott was jealous, or whether he really disapproved of Bingham’s proceedings; but he indulged in strong and even coarse language, and that could not fail to excite prejudice against him.151

Perrott quarrels with his Council

Like many of his predecessors, Perrott chafed under the restraint of the Council. The English or official party at the Board were inclined to lessen his power by frequent references to the Home Government. On this side were Lord Chancellor Loftus, Sir Nicholas Bagenal the Knight-Marshal, Vice-Treasurer Wallop, and Secretary Fenton. The Great Seal was in the Chancellor’s hands, the signet in the Secretary’s, and Perrott had thus the mortification of seeing his opponents concerned in every act of importance. Most lawyers of Irish birth took the other side, and of these the most active were Sir Nicholas White and Chief Baron Sir Lucas Dillon. Loftus and his friends generally leaned on Walsingham, while their opponents had more hope from Burghley. Fenton was in England during the latter half of 1585 and until March in the next year, and Perrott, who knew what the Secretary’s influence would be, expected his recall, and was ready to welcome it.

and thereby displeases the Queen

The Queen did not blame her representative directly; but she sent home despatches by Fenton which he greatly disliked, though they were very moderate and considerate in terms. The Council was to be more often consulted, and the Secretary was directed to read all instructions from headquarters openly at the Board at least once a quarter. This was no new thing, but a rebuke may have been implied in giving Fenton the initiative. In secret matters the Deputy was to confer with the English councillors, and offices in his gift were to be bestowed only on fit persons, which seems to suggest that he had made some improper appointments. Perrott considered these orders derogatory to his dignity, and he begged to be relieved.152

Perrott quarrels with Archbishop Loftus, and sends the Chief Secretary to gaolChallenges the Governor of Connaught, and assaults the marshal

The argument between the Lord Deputy and the Lord Chancellor about St. Patrick’s was so loud that it reached the Queen’s ear, and she wrote to them both, enjoining a reconciliation. Burghley added some fatherly advice to Loftus, and an open breach was avoided. But the Archbishop lost no opportunity of doing the Deputy an ill turn. “Contempt of God’s religion,” “immoderate government,” “abhorred and loathed of the best sort of this people,” were among the expressions he allowed himself to use in writing to Walsingham. With Burghley he was more guarded, acknowledging that the private mislike between him and the Deputy made open complaint unbecoming, yet complaining very strongly at the same time. There was not much outward scandal, for the Chancellor’s mitre protected him in some measure, and a dignified ecclesiastic had probably enough self-restraint to avoid irritating language. Others were less fortunate. Secretary Fenton owed 20l. to the Deputy, and 50l. to one of his retainers; and for this small debt – the liability to pay which he had not denied – Perrott had this high official hurried off through the streets on market-day, and ignominiously cast into the common gaol. For this extraordinary proceeding the Queen took her Deputy severely to task, and ordered Fenton’s immediate enlargement. ‘Considering,’ she said, ‘how inconvenient it is at all times, but especially in so doubtful and perilous a season as this, to have you and the rest of our Council there divided, as we hear you are by factions and partialities, to our just offence and mislike, the slander of your government and prejudice of our service, whereof we doubt not but you will, for your own part, have that regard that in honour and duty appertaineth.’ Bingham’s duties in Connaught kept him from the Council-board, but Perrott gave him as little countenance as possible. There was a standing dispute about the house at Athlone, which was in the Deputy’s hands, and which Bingham naturally wanted for an official residence. Perrott’s journey into the province against the Governor’s advice made things worse, and Bingham complained of hard usage, ‘especially in bad speeches and uncourteous terms, such as for modesty’s sake I omit to write here.’ Theobald Dillon, collector of composition rents in Connaught, was supported by the Lord Deputy against Bingham; but the Council heard Dillon’s charges, and declared them unfounded. The evening before the Council gave their decision, and doubtless after the result of the hearing was known, Stephen Seagrave, constable of the Castle, came to Bingham, on Perrott’s part, with a great white truncheon in his hand, and informed him that his lordship was ready for the combat. Bingham said he never heard of any such combat before, and the Lord Deputy admitted having sent Seagrave. The provocation alleged was mere hearsay: that Lord Delvin had told Perrott that Sir Richard had told Lieutenant Jacques that he would fight the Deputy if he were out of office; and Seagrave was told to tell Bingham that the duel might take place at once. Still worse was the treatment of Sir Nicholas Bagenal, who was near eighty years old, and who had served the State well for half a century. A dispute arising in the Council Chamber, Perrott actually struck the old man. According to Bagenal, he knocked him down; others thought the blow was nothing, but that the aged marshal fell in the confusion. Bagenal held up his stick, but not till the Deputy had first laid hands on him. They were separated; and then this edifying dialogue took place: ‘You do lie,’ said the Deputy, ‘if you think I have dealt evil in anything.’

‘You lie,’ said the Marshal, and to mend it said, ‘if you were not Deputy, I would say you lie, for I care not for Sir John Perrott.’

‘If I were but Sir John Perrott,’ said the Deputy, ‘I would teach him that came from a tailor’s stall, to use me thus.’

‘It makes no matter,’ said the Marshal.

‘Well,’ said the Deputy, ‘because you doat, I will bear with you; otherwise I would commit you to the prison.’

‘If you did,’ said he, ‘I would come out, whether you would or not.’

‘Very well, Mr. Marshal,’ said the Deputy, ‘get you hence, for it is not reason to talk with you. A man would think you are drunk.’

‘Nay, you are drunk,’ said the Marshal to the Deputy.

After this it is hardly worth while to repeat Wallop’s complaints, that his labours in Munster were slighted, and that the Lord Deputy sometimes indulged in violent language against him, and against Chief Justice Gardiner.153

Perrott’s troubles

Perrott’s health may partly excuse him, for he suffered much. ‘By God, Mr. Carew,’ he wrote, ‘I daily grow weaker and weaker of body through the great pain I have of the stone, growing more and more upon me in this slimy country. In Connaught, if I travelled one day, through the grating of the stone in my kidneys I was fain to rest another; and in the end the Irish ague took me, that I was seven days like to die in Galway, and am not yet thoroughly recovered thereof, nor shall not (I believe) pass this next year, except her Majesty, of her great grace, give me licence to go to the Spa the next spring; a suit that I made to her Highness nine years agone. It were better her Majesty preserved me to serve her in some other place, than I to be wilfully cast away here.’ Ireland was a prison where he could do no good to himself nor to any other man. ‘Help your poor friend out of this hell,’ was his prayer to Leicester. If he could but see Elizabeth all would be well, for she had promised not to listen to detractors who were his enemies because he served one God and one Queen; but now her Deputy was brought into greater contempt than ever Sir John Perrott was. One can sympathise with the man; but no good work could be expected from a governor who had personally quarrelled with all the more important members of the Council, by whose advice he was bound to act.154

An Irish regiment sent to Holland, under Sir William Stanley, who deserts to the SpaniardsStanley wished to invade Ireland, but never effected anything

Ireland being comparatively peaceful, it occurred to Elizabeth, or to some of her advisers, that an Irish force might be raised for service in the Netherlands. Perhaps it was also thought that the more loose swordsmen were sent out of the country the more likely it was to remain quiet. The officer chosen was Sir William Stanley, who had done good service in many parts of Ireland, and who had been rewarded by a reversionary grant of the Mastership of the Ordnance. The Catholic party was at this time in the ascendency at Deventer, and had given trouble by introducing provisions into the beleaguered city of Zutphen. Leicester sent Sir William Pelham to secure Deventer, and Stanley, whom he must have known well in Ireland, was ordered to support him. Pelham secured the municipality in Protestant hands, and Leicester then handed over the place to Stanley, who was known to favour the old religion, and suspected of being concerned in plots, and who had been associating with Spaniards for months. Leicester’s chief object in making this appointment seems to have been to annoy Sir John Norris, from whose control, with almost incredible folly, he specially excepted Stanley and his Irishmen. The fort of Zutphen, which had been lately taken, was entrusted to Rowland Yorke, an adventurer of the worst character, who soon opened communications with the Spanish garrison of the town. Stanley’s Irish soldiers were allowed into Zutphen to hear mass; and Leicester, though he was warned of what was going on, took no steps to prevent it. When the Earl went to England, Yorke and Stanley had ample time for plotting, and Deventer was given up to the Spaniards in due course. But treason rarely prospers. Yorke, who was promised a large reward, died under suspicious circumstances before he could enjoy it. Stanley seems to have been more disinterested; but he received money from Philip, joined Parma’s army, and was seen by Robert Cecil during his mission to France in 1598, who notes that the renegade was fain to pull his cap over his face. Nor did all Spaniards approve Stanley’s conduct, if it be true that in passing through Seville ‘he was well handled of the country, for they unarmed him, unhorsed him, reviled him for his lewd doings towards his prince, and made him go on foot; but coming to the King he was in favour, and punishment used on such as thus dealt with him, and the officers displaced for suffering it.’ An invasion of Ireland was contemplated under Stanley’s leadership, and he looked forward with pleasure to the service. ‘I will,’ he said, ‘ruin the whole country as far as Holland and the parts about Wezel (Ijssel) and Emden in six days, and in Ireland I will open such a game of war as the Queen has never seen in her life.’ Against his advice the descent on Ireland was abandoned, and he sank into obscurity; it was even reported that he had gone mad. An Italian named Giacomo de Francesqui, and sometimes called Captain Jacques, who had been his lieutenant in Ireland, was arrested by Burghley’s orders. This officer was on friendly terms with Florence MacCarthy, and was known to have been acquainted with Ballard; and it was thought that he might be utilised by the Spaniards in Munster. Most of Stanley’s Irish levies doubtless left their bones in the Low Countries, but a few returned to Ireland, and eleven of these poor men were pardoned by Elizabeth nearly seven years after the treason at Deventer. ‘They were,’ she said, ‘innocently forced to disobey us.’ For many years there were reports that Stanley was coming to Ireland, but he never came. In Cheshire old Sir Rowland Stanley ‘grievously lamented his son William the traitor, maintaining his son in Cambridge, and also relieving his wife and children, having no other maintenance.’155

The Irish in SpainDrake is the terror of SpainIrish merchants partisans of Spain

If Stanley’s advice had been taken, Elizabeth might have been reduced to serious straits, for it was impossible to prevent a Spanish descent, and there were but scant preparations to meet an enemy on shore. Early in 1586 it was rumoured that there would be an invasion on May Day, and Perrott asked for a small cruiser to gather news on the Biscay coast. Merchants from Spain and Portugal reported that Irishmen were free from the embargo laid on English shipping, and that the many Irish residents in the peninsula made no secret of what was going on. Forty thousand men had been collected; eighty-five ships were ready, all but the rigging; Irish refugees from Rome and elsewhere flocked to Spain. Irish sailors were often detained by the Spanish Government, and occasionally told their adventures to Perrott, who also employed a secret agent, one Davy Duke, who knew Italian and Spanish, passed as a Jesuit, and had letters of introduction from a papal bishop imprisoned in Dublin Castle. Miles Brewett, mariner of Dublin, told how he had been taken before Santa Cruz, and how the Marquis had said that he knew Perrott very well, regretting that he was such a Lutheran, and wishing for one of his best horses and for one of his best hawks. The Admiral asked Brewett much about Ireland, and he answered that he had never known it so quiet. One of James Fitzmaurice’s sons boasted to him that 5,000 men were going to Ireland, that Feagh MacHugh was ready to welcome them, and that all Ireland would do the same, except Dublin, Waterford, and Drogheda. But Brewett heard from others that Philip was weary of the Irish, and that his subjects called them beggars. Their priests cried out against Duke, who, after learning all he could, went over to Bayonne and wrote boldly to say that he was going to his mistress Queen Elizabeth. He bade the Pope farewell, saying that he liked of his countrymen’s company, but not of their learning. As the plot thickened, news of Santa Cruz came constantly to Waterford, and Drake’s very successful predatory cruise was freely discussed by merchants and others. One said that the great sailor must have taken Cadiz if he had landed at once; for that the whole population were at a comedy, where eighteen persons were crushed to death in the panic caused by his appearance – a lady with 16,000 ducats a year being among the victims. Even in the heart of Castille, Spaniards hardly thought themselves safe. Philip and his train were amusing themselves on some artificial water, and a lady who was invited to enter the royal barge refused to do so, ‘for fear of Sir Francis Drake.’ The usually impassive monarch is said to have lost his temper, and banished the timid, or perhaps only sarcastic, lady from court, swearing a great oath that he would be revenged on England. To bring this happy result about, he ordered that all Irishmen and Scots should be used as Spaniards. Baltinglas had left a brother who assumed his title, and offered to invade Ireland if the King would give him 5,000 men. Philip was willing to do so much, but the Irish gentlemen clamoured for twice or thrice as many, and he then said they did not know their own minds, and should have none at all. Despairing of Spain, Fitzmaurice’s son and some others proposed to go to Ireland and make terms with Perrott, but this plan was given up, owing to rumours of some severe measures of the Irish Government, and they again began to talk glibly of invasion. Santa Cruz had good information about Ireland from Limerick and Waterford merchants, ‘who, under colour of their conscience lie at Lisbon these two years past, and hath their wives and children at home, and doth nothing but hearken for news of the state of England and Ireland, and whatever they can hear they report to the Cardinal and Marquis, and deliver the same with more than they can learn, and all to win themselves credit.’ The English court were not blind to the danger of Ireland, though almost to the last Elizabeth seems hardly to have realised the Armada. Everything was wanting for the defence of Ireland, and the Queen would not listen. ‘If,’ said Perrott, ‘any number of enemies arrive here, the cities and towns of this kingdom, and consequently the realm itself, will stand in great danger of losing, and the few Englishmen that be here in like danger of perishing… I wish that the desire of peace (whereof I have little hope) may not cause forgetfulness, or breed peril to lose that we have.’156

The cess

The regular revenue of Ireland was small, and as an army was absolutely necessary, it had been usual to levy irregular taxes upon the shires of the Pale. There were plenty of lawyers to condemn taxation without the consent of Parliament; but in this case the prerogative had been allowed, though there were many long disputes as to the amount of the aid, and as to its incidence. Cess of some kind had been exacted since the time of Edward III., and Sidney, who understood the subject thoroughly, describes it as a ‘prerogative of the Prince and an agreement and consent of the nobility and Council to impose upon the country a certain proportion of victual of all kinds, to be delivered and issued at a reasonable rate, and, as it is commonly termed, the Queen’s price, so that the rising and falling of prices makes the matter easier or heavier to the people.’ The cess had been regularly levied since the latter years of Henry VIII., and a practice had crept in of applying it to the Lord-Deputy’s household as well as to the army. The uncertainty of the impost was the worst part of it, and Elizabeth wished to substitute a regular money payment. Temporary arrangements were made, and the total sum leviable was fixed at 2,100l.; the cultivated parts of Kilkenny, Tipperary, Wexford, Carlow, King’s County, and Queen’s County being made contributory, as well as the original Pale. Perrott tried to abolish the cess altogether, and to substitute a fixed land-tax of 1l. on every ploughland. This was reduced to 13s. 4d., but the Bill failed in the House of Commons, and Perrott had to fall back upon the composition of 2,100l.157

Bingham is sent to Holland, but soon returns to Ireland

The Council acquitted Bingham of all Dillon’s charges; but no peace followed, and Perrott continued to pile up accusations against him. For the sake of quiet the English Government resolved to utilise Bingham’s energies in Holland, and he took the opportunity to sum up his services for Burghley’s information. Connaught was at peace, though he had little help from his official superior, and Elizabeth was sure to be pleased at his having made the province pay its own expenses. ‘The Lord Deputy,’ he said, ‘took the Composition book from myself, and would not give me so much as a copy of that which in effect was my own work, whereby I was driven to search it out with infinite labour and pains.’ Bingham had been given to understand that he should succeed Lord Willoughby in Holland, and be allowed to appoint a deputy in Connaught. But the Queen named Sir Thomas Le Strange to act during his absence, while giving particular orders that none of his officers should be displaced. Bingham saw no prospect of advancement in Holland after the departure of Leicester, on whose patronage he relied, and returned to England with him or before him. He was admitted to the Queen’s presence, the house at Athlone was given up to him, in spite of Perrott and of Wallop’s claim to a leasehold interest in it, and he returned to Ireland much stronger than he had left it.158

Perrott’s credit declinesPerrott leaves Ireland

The restoration of Bingham to his government marks the time when the scale finally turned against Sir John Perrott. His faults of temper have been already sufficiently commented on; he was in bad health; and worse things than ill-health or ill-temper were whispered about him. But Ireland was manifestly peaceful, and by appointing Sir William Fitzwilliam the Queen showed that she expected quiet times and wished for an unambitious policy. Whatever chagrin Perrott may have felt at his supersession, he certainly expressed none. All he asked was that his successor might come at once, so as to let him take the waters at Bath; Spa being now out of the question. Fitzwilliam, however, lingered six months; and when at last the time came for delivering the sword Perrott presented to the Corporation of Dublin a silver gilt bowl bearing his arms and crest, and the words relinquo in pace. In handing over the badge of office he called his successor to witness that all was peaceful, and hoped that he would say so to the Queen’s Council. Fitzwilliam answered that if he could leave it half as well he should do his Queen and country good service. ‘There is,’ continued Perrott, ‘no ill-minded or suspected person in this kingdom, which can carry but six swords after him into the field, but if you will name him and shall desire to have him, notwithstanding that I have resigned the sword, yet… if they come not in on my word, I will lose the merit and reputation of all my service.’ Fitzwilliam replied that it needed not, for all was well. Three days later Perrott left Ireland for ever. A great number of noblemen and gentlemen came to see him off, among whom old Tirlogh Luineach was conspicuous. That representative of an order that had almost passed away accompanied him to the ship and would not put off until the last moment. He watched the retreating sail until it was below the horizon, and then shed tears ‘as if he had been beaten.’ Nor was it only lords and chiefs who mourned for Perrott. The poor came forty miles to see him pass, praying for his long life and striving to take his hand if possible, or to touch the hem of his garment. When he asked them why they did so, they answered, ‘that they never had enjoyed their own with peace before his time, and did doubt they should never do so again when he was gone.’159