O'Connor. 'A letter from the King!' said the insolent chieftain when it was brought to him, 'what king? If I may live one year, I trust to see Ireland in that case that there shall be no more mention here of the King of England than of the King of Spain." Still, however, it was thought inconvenient to venture extremities. Henry allowed himself to make use of Kildare's assistance to soothe the immediate storm.2 An old desire of the Irish had been that some prince of the blood should govern them; he nominated, therefore, his natural son, the Duke of Richmond, as viceroy; and having no adequate force in Ireland to resist an insurrection, and no immediate means of despatching any such force, he was once more obliged to pardon and restore the traitorous Geraldine; appointing, at the same time, Sir William Skeffington, a moderately able man, though too old for duty, as the Duke of Richmond's deputy, and directing him to govern with the advice and co-operation of the Earl of Kildare. To this disastrous weakness there was but one counterpoise that the English party in the council of Ireland was strengthened by the appointment of John Allen to the archbishopric of Dublin and the office of chancellor. Allen was one of the many men of talent who owed their elevation to Wolsey. He was now sent over to keep watch on Kildare, and to supply the Go 146. Norfolk to Wolsey: Ibid. p. | tute, 28 Henry VIII. cap. 1. * It had been partially subdued by Lord James Butler.-Irish sta 3 O'Brien of Thomond to Henry VIII.: State Papers, vol. ii. vernment with accurate information which might be relied upon as a ground for action. Till this time (and the fact is one which ought to be borne in mind), the Government had been forced to depend for their knowledge of the state of the country either on the representations of the deputy, or the private accusations of his personal enemies; both of them exceedingly untrustworthy sources. Henceforward there runs a clear stream of light through the fog and night of confusion, furnished either by the Archbishop or by Allen, Master of the Rolls, who was most likely his kins man. The policy of conciliation, if conduct so feeble deserves to be called a policy at all, had now reached its limit; and it amounted to confessed imbecility. Twice deposed from power on clear evidence of high treason, Lord Kildare was once more restored. It cost him but a little time to deliver himself of the presence of Skeffington; and in 1532 he was again sole deputy. All which the Earl of Surrey had foretold came to pass. Archbishop Allen was deprived of the chancellorship, and the Archbishop of Armagh, a creature of the Geraldines, was substituted in his place. Those noblemen and gentlemen who had lent themselves to the interests of the English in the Earl's absence were persecuted, imprisoned, or murdered. They had ventured to be loyal from a belief in the assurances which had been made to them; but the Government was far off and Kildare was near; and such of them as he condescended to spare were now driven in self-defence, maugre their wills, to follow with the rest.'' The wind which filled the sails of the ship in which Kildare returned, blew into flames the fires of insurrection; and in a very Saturnalia of Irish madness the whole people, with no object that could be discovered but for very delight in disorder itself, begun to tear themselves to pieces. Lord Thomas Butler was murdered by the Geraldines; Kildare himself was shot through the body in a skirmish; Powerscourt was burnt by the O'Tooles; and Dublin Castle was sacked in a sudden foray ly O'Brien Oge. O'Neil was out in the north; Desmond in the south; and the English pale was overrun by brigands. Ireland had found its way into its ideal condition-that condition towards which its instincts perpetually tended, and which at length it had undisputedly reached. The Allens furnished the King with a very plain report of the effect of his leniency. They dwelt boldly on the mistakes which had been made. Re-echoing the words of the Report of 1515, they declared that the only hope for the country was to govern by English deputies; and that to grudge the cost seemed 'consonant to the nature of him that rather than he will depart with fourpence he will jeopard to lose twenty shillings which fourpence, disbursed in time, might have saved the other." They spoke well of the common Irish. If well governed,' they said, the Irish would be found as civil, politic, and active, as any other nation. But what subjects under any prince in the world,' they asked, 'would love or defend the rights of that prince 3 1 Report of 1533: State Papers, vol. ii. pp. 163–179. who, notwithstanding their true hearts and obedience, would afterwards put them under the governance of such as would persecute and destroy them?' Faith must be kept with those to whom promises had been made, and the habit of rewarding treason with concessions must be brought to an end. 'Till great men suffer for their offences,' they added, significantly, 'your subjects within the English pale shall never live in quietness, nor stand sure of their goods and lives. Therefore, let your deputy have in commandment to do justice upon great thieves and malefactors, and to spare your par dons.'1 These were but words, and such words had been already spoken too often to deaf ears; but the circumstances of the time were each day growing more perilous, and necessity, the true mother of statesmanship, was doing its work at last. The winter months passed away, bringing only an increase of wretchedness. At length opened the eventful year of 1534, and Henry learnt that excommunication was hanging over him—that a struggle for life or death had commenced-and that the Imperial armies were preparing to strike in the quarrel. From that time onward the King of England became a new man. Hitherto he had hesitated, temporized, delayed-not with Ireland only, but with the manifold labours which were thrust upon him. At last he was awake. indeed, it was high time. With a religious war appar 1 State Papers, vol. ii. p. 192. And, ently on the eve of explosion, he could ill tolerate a hotbed of sedition at his door; and Irish sedition was about to receive into itself a new element, which was to make it trebly dangerous. Until that moment the disorders in Ireland had arisen out of a natural preference for anarchy. Every man's hand was against his neighbour, and the clans made war on each other only for revenge and plunder, and the wild delight of the game. These private quarrels were now to be merged in a single cause-a cause which was to lend a fresh stimulus to their hatred of England, and was at once to create and consecrate a national Irish spirit. The Irish were eminently Catholic; not in the high sense of the word-for the noble folk' could' oppress and spoil the prelates of the Church of Christ of their possessions and liberties' without particular scruple1— but the country was covered with churches and monasteries in a proportion to the population far beyond what would have been found in any other country in Europe; and there are forms of superstition which can walk hand in hand with any depth of crime, when that superstition is provided with a talisman which will wash away the stains of guilt. The love of fighting was inherent, at the same time, in the Celtic nature. And such a people, when invited to indulge their humour in the cause of the Church, were an army of insurrection ready made to the hands of the popes, the value of which their Holi 1 State Papers, vol. iii. p. 10. |