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.