‘Irish policy,’ said Mr. Disraeli in the House of Commons, ‘is Irish history, and I have no faith in any statesman, who attempts to remedy the evils of Ireland, who is either ignorant of the past or who will not take lessons from it.’ This is most true, and history, if it is to be of any use, should be written for instruction, and not merely for the confirmation of existing prejudices. This is especially so in the present case, for, as Sir George Stanley told Cecil in 1565, ‘the practises of Ireland be great, and not understood to all men that seem to have knowledge thereof.’ The writer who enters the arena as an advocate may produce an interesting party pamphlet, but he will hardly make the world either wiser or better. The historian’s true office is that of the judge, whose duty it is to marshal all the material facts with just so much of comment as may enable his hearers to give them their due weight. The reading public is the jury. Starting with this conception of the task before me, I have not attempted to please any party or school. The history of Ireland is at the best a sad one; but its study, if it be really studied for the truth’s sake, can hardly fail to make men more tolerant. In Ireland, as in other countries, a purely Celtic population was unable to resist the impact of the Teutonic race. First came the pagan Northmen, with power to ruin, but without power to reconstruct. Then followed the Anglo-Normans, seeking for lands and lordships, but seeking them under the patronage of the Catholic Church. The main cause of this second failure was the neglect or jealousy of the kings. They feared the growth of an independent power within sight of the English shore, and they had neither means nor inclination to do the work of government themselves. Little gain and less glory were to be had in Ireland, and Scotch, Welsh, or Continental politics engrossed their attention in turn. They weakened the colony, partly of set purpose, and partly by drawing men and supplies from thence. In short, they were absentees; and, to use an expression which has gained currency in modern times, they were generally content to look upon Ireland as a mere drawfarm. The Wars of the Roses almost completed the ruin of the work which Henry II. had begun. For a moment it seemed as if the colony was about to assert its independence. But this could not have been done without an understanding with the native race, and it does not appear that any such understanding was possible. The upshot was that Yorkist and Lancastrian parties were formed in Ireland, that the colony was thus still further weakened, and that the English language and power seemed on the point of disappearing altogether. The throne of Henry VIII. was erected on the ruins of mediÆval feudalism, and guarded by a nation which longed for rest, and which saw no hope but in a strong monarchy. The King saw that he had duties in Ireland. Utterly unscrupulous where his own passions were concerned, the idea of a patriot King was not altogether strange to him. Irish chiefs were encouraged to visit his court, and were allowed to bask in the sunshine of royal favour; and it is conceivable that the ‘Defender of the Faith,’ had he con Henry II. had found Ireland in the hands of a Celtic people, for the intermixture of Scandinavian blood was slight and partial. Henry VIII. found it inhabited by a mixed race. From the beginning there had been rivalry and ill-feeling between men of English blood born in Ireland, and those of English birth who were sent over as officials or who went over as adventurers. During the fifteenth century England did nothing to preserve the ties of kinship, and the Celtic reaction tended to swallow up the interlopers. The degenerate English proverbially became more Irish than the Irish themselves, but the distinction would scarcely have been so nearly obliterated had it not been for the change in religion. The nobles of the Pale, the burghers of the walled towns, and the lawyers in Dublin were equally disinclined to accept the new model. Neither Irish chieftains nor Anglo-Irish lords found much difficulty in acknowledging Henry’s supremacy both in Church and State; but further than that they would not go. The people did not go so far, and, in the words of the annalists, regarded the Reformation simply as a ‘heresy and new error.’ Religion itself was at an extremely low ebb, and only the friars preserved the memory of better days. Henry may have imagined that he could lead the people through the bishops and other dignitaries: if so, he was entirely mistaken. The friars defied his power, and the hearts of the poor were with them. In Ireland, at least, it was Rome that under Henry’s vacillations and the early deaths of Edward and Mary for a time obscured the true nature of the contest, but it became apparent in Elizabeth’s time. She was an excommunicated Queen. From a Catholic point of view she was clearly illegitimate. Many English Catholics ignored all this and served her well and truly, but those who carried dogmas to their logical conclusions flocked to the enemy’s camp. Spain, Belgium, and Italy were filled with English refugees, who were willing enough that the Queen should be hurt in Ireland, since England was beyond their reach. But even here national antipathies were visible, and Irish suitors for Spanish help came constantly into collision with Englishmen bent upon the same errand. Desmond, Shane O’Neill, and Hugh O’Neill seem to have cared very little for religion themselves. The first was a tool of Rome; the two latter rather made the Church subservient to their own ambition. But in these cases, and in a hundred others of less importance, the religious feeling of the people was always steadily opposed to the English Crown. Elizabeth was by nature no persecutor, yet she persecuted. Her advisers always maintained, and her apologists may still The poverty of the Crown is the key to many problems of the Elizabethan age. The Queen had to keep Scotland quiet, to hold Spain at bay, and to maintain tolerable relations with France. She saw what ought to be done in Ireland, but very often could not afford to do it. The tendency to temporise was perhaps constitutional, but it was certainly much increased by want of money. Her vacillating policy did much harm, but it was caused less by changes of opinion than by circumstances. When the pressure at other points slackened she could attend to her troublesome kingdom; when it increased she was often forced to postpone her Irish plans. Ireland has always suffered, and still suffers sorely, from want of firmness. In modern times party exigencies work mischief analogous to that formerly caused by the sovereign’s necessities. The dissolution of the monasteries was followed by no proper provision for education. In the total absence of universities and grammar-schools, certain monks and nuns had striven nobly to keep the lamp of knowledge burning, but they were ruthlessly driven from house and home. Elizabeth was alive to all this, but she could not give Ireland her undivided attention, and such remedies as were applied A few words now to the critics whom every writer hopes to have. The spelling both of Irish names and English documents has throughout been modernised, from regard to the feelings of the public. Irish history is already sufficiently repulsive to that great unknown quantity the general reader, and it would be cruel to add to its horrors. Etymologists will always go for their materials to originals, and not to modern compositions. When, therefore, such names as Clandeboye or Roderic O’Connor are met with in the text, it is not to be supposed that I have never heard of Clann-Aedha-Buidhe or Ruaidhri O’Conchobair. Of the first 123 pages of this book, I need only say that original authorities have as much as possible been consulted. In the third and four following chapters, much use has been made of Mr. Gilbert’s ‘Viceroys,’ a debt which I desire to acknowledge once for all. In so succinct a review of more than three centuries, it has not been thought necessary to quote the authority for every fact. For the reign of Henry VIII. I have chiefly relied on the second and third volumes of the ‘State Papers,’ published in 1834. They are sometimes cited as ‘S. P.’ or ‘State Papers, The account of the reigns of Edward VI., Mary, and Elizabeth is chiefly drawn from the ‘State Papers, Ireland’—all documents preserved in the Public Record Office and calendared by Mr. Hans Claude Hamilton. How excellently the editor has done his work can only be appreciated by one who has entered into his labours as closely as I have done. Except where a document has already been printed, I have nearly always referred to the original MS. All documents cited by date or number without further description must be understood as being in this collection. The late Dr. Brewer’s calendar of the Carew MSS. at Lambeth often fills up gaps in the greater series; it is referred to as Carew. Many papers, both in Fetter Lane and at Lambeth, are copies; but their authenticity is not disputed. The Carew calendar is on so full a plan that it has not been thought necessary to consult the manuscripts; indeed, except for local purposes, it is not likely that they will be much consulted in the future. Other collections are referred to in their places, but it may be well to mention specially the journal of the Irish (Kilkenny) ArchÆological Society, whose editor, the Rev. James Graves, has done as much as any man to lay a broad foundation for Irish history. O’Donovan’s splendid edition of the ‘Four Masters’ has generally been consulted for the Irish version of every important fact. O’Clery and his fellow-compilers wrote under Charles I., and are not therefore strictly contemporary for the Tudor period. They appear to have faithfully transcribed original annals, but to this one important exception must be The Anglo-Irish chronicles in ‘Holinshed’ were written by Richard Stanihurst, who dedicated his work to Sir Henry Sidney, for the reign of Henry VIII., and after that by John Hooker. Stanihurst, a native of Dublin, was not born till 1545. He has been thought an unpatriotic writer, and excited the violent antipathy of O’Donovan; but he appears to have been pretty well informed. The speeches which he puts into the mouths of his characters must be considered apocryphal, but as much may be said of like compositions in all ages. Hooker was an actor in many of the events he describes. He was a Protestant and an Englishman, prejudiced no doubt, but not untruthful, and his statements are often borne out by independent documents. Edmund Campion, the Jesuit, wrote in Ireland under Sidney’s protection; his very interesting work is less a history than a collection of notes. Other books, ancient and modern, are referred to in the footnotes. Among living scholars, I desire to thank In making the index a few errors were discovered in the text, and these have been noted as errata. Some mistakes may still remain uncorrected, but I am not without hope that they are neither many nor of much importance. Marlfield, Clonmel: August 13, 1885. |