Many important men had hastened to offer their services and forward their petitions to the new Queen. Conspicuous among them was Richard, second Earl of Clanricarde, called Sassanagh, or the Englishman, of whose loyalty the Queen had a very good opinion, but who in one important respect fell short even of a Court standard of morals. The names of seven of his wives and sultanas have come down to us, and of these at least five were living at this time. He was acknowledged as captain of Connaught, his Earldom was confirmed by patent, and he received other marks of favour. The Queen also lent a favourable ear to Ormonde’s uncle, brother, and cousin, and to the new Earl of Desmond. Connor O’Brien, whom Sussex had established in the Earldom of Thomond, and MacCarthy More, were also well treated, and so were several of the corporate towns.7
The first Parliament of Elizabeth met on January 12, 1560, and was dissolved on February 1. It was attended by three archbishops, seventeen bishops, and twenty-three temporal peers, including all the earls then extant in Ireland. Ten counties sent two knights each, and twenty-eight cities and boroughs were represented by two burgesses each. Ten other counties, King’s and Queen’s among them, are mentioned, Connaught counting as one, and Down being divided into two; but they either received no writs or made no returns, and the same may be said of the borough of Kilmallock. James Stanihurst, Recorder of Dublin and member for that city, was chosen speaker. The chief business was to establish the Queen’s title, and to restore her father’s and brother’s ecclesiastical legislation. First-fruits were restored to the Crown, and so was the commandery of St. John. Massingberd’s alienations were annulled, and, as he was suspected of secret dealings with the Irish, he was attainted unless he should surrender within forty days.
So far English legislation was closely followed, but in two important respects the Church was made more dependent on the State than in England. Royal Commissioners, or Parliament in the last resort, were to be the judges of heresy without reference to any synod or convocation, and congés d’élire were abolished as useless and derogatory to the prerogative. These matters having been arranged to his satisfaction, Sussex again went to England, and Sir William Fitzwilliam, who had just come over as Treasurer at War, was appointed Lord Justice in his room.8
Fitzwilliam, who was new to Ireland, at first found the Irish pretty peaceful, but admitted that the overtaxed people of the Pale were less so than they were bound in duty to be. Causes of disturbance were not long in coming. Old O’Connor escaped from Dublin Castle, and uneasiness was immediately observable in the districts where he had influence. Calvagh O’Donnell’s wife, who was Argyle’s half-sister, had brought over some 1,500 Scots, ‘not to her husband’s enrichment,’ as the Lord Justice supposed, but as a plague to Shane, who had married O’Donnell’s sister and ill-treated her. Shane had engaged a similar force, and all these combustibles could scarcely be stored without mischief. The priests who were beaten in England showed signs of an intention to transfer the struggle to Ireland, where they had many partisans and might create more. At all events, they were flocking across the Channel, ‘not for any great learning the universities of Ireland shall show them as I guess.’ The Government only was weak. There were but fifty hundredweight of lead in store, and Fitzwilliam thought he might have to strip the material for bullets from some house or church.9
Kildare, whose foreign education and connection made him more dangerous than any of his ancestors had been, was undoubtedly playing with edged tools. Desmond refused to pay cess. The two earls had met at Limerick, and would certainly join Donnell O’Brien if he landed with the expected foreign aid. There were rumours of French ships on the coast, and frequent messengers passed between Kildare, Desmond, and Shane O’Neill. Edmond Boy, a Geraldine who was usually employed on this dangerous service, warned a relation who had married an Englishman to sell all and fly the realm, for if all promises were kept, her husband would never reap that he had sown. Kildare not only kept his followers under arms, but declared that he and his friends would be slaves no longer, presided at assemblies of Irishmen, and ostentatiously heard mass in public. Of all this there was ample evidence, and in addition, Lady Tyrone had sought interviews with the Lord Justice, and sworn the interpreter to secrecy. Laying the Bible first on her own head and then on his, ‘which is the surest kind of oath taken with them,’ she made a very positive statement as to the alliance of her son Shane and the two Geraldine earls. The Countess indeed, Fitzwilliam told Cecil, was ‘something busy-headed and largely-tongued, crafty and very malicious, no great heed to be given to her, unless some other thing might lend credit to the tale she telleth, as in this there is.’ There was quite enough to cause anxiety, and the Government were almost defenceless. ‘Send us over men,’ the Lord Justice cried, ‘that we may fight ere we die.’10
It was still the policy of Philip II. to appear as Elizabeth’s protector, anxious to save her from the consequences of her own rashness and to give her time to repent. This half contemptuous patronage was the result of mere statecraft, and the Queen gave no credit for kindliness to a man who had no such element in his nature. The first sighs of the great storm had been heard in the Netherlands. With France and Scotland united, and with England crushed as Philip thought she might be, the power of Spain in Northern Europe would be endangered. The Catholic King would therefore give no help to Catholic Ireland. The Christian King could give none; nor even maintain his ground in Scotland. The French fleet had been cast away, and the Huguenots were at no pains to hide their sympathy with English and Scotch reformers. The conspiracy of Amboise showed what might be expected. Francis II. was nought, and the hatred of Catherine de’ Medici for her lovely daughter-in-law paralysed the efforts of the statesmen who ruled about him. Brave and full of resource, but without help or hope, D’Oysel was shut up in Leith, the national skill of his followers making the best of rats and horseflesh while Winter’s ships lay off Inchkeith, the unchallenged tyrants of the sea. Mary of Lorraine died with a Calvinist preacher by her bedside, and the power of Rome was for ever broken in Scotland. Under such circumstances no outbreak in Ireland could have a chance of success, and the plottings of the Geraldines with O’Briens and O’Neills came for the time to nothing.
Fortified by constant intercourse with the Queen and Cecil, Sussex returned to Ireland with the title of Lord-Lieutenant, which had not been conferred since the death of Henry VIII.’s son, and which was not to be conferred again till it was given to the rash favourite whose fate darkened Elizabeth’s last days. He told the Queen that he was willing to surrender his post to anyone who would go against Shane O’Neill on easier terms. ‘She seeth,’ he said, ‘that I affect not that governance.’ He had repudiated with scorn the accusation that he had put to death those who surrendered under protection. ‘If the cause,’ he said, ‘were mine own I would ask trial like a gentleman, but it is the Queen’s. My word is not the Earl of Sussex’s word but Queen Elizabeth’s word, my lie her lie.’ Noble words: but too imperfectly remembered in the hour of trial.11
Sussex’s written instructions show no apprehension of foreign enemies, except that he was authorised to contribute a sum not exceeding 250l. to the fortification of Waterford. If Sorley Boy MacDonnell’s profession of loyalty were fulfilled, he might receive a grant of the lands he claimed. But Shane O’Neill