gged down Clarendon. On the seventh of January 1687,
the Gazette announced to the people of London that the Treasury was put
into commission. On the eighth arrived at Dublin a despatch formally
signifying that in a month Tyrconnel would assume the government
of Ireland. It was not without great difficulty that this man had
surmounted the numerous impediments which stood in the way of his
ambition. It was well known that the extermination of the English colony
in Ireland was the object on which his heart was set. He had, therefore,
to overcome some scruples in the royal mind. He had to surmount the
opposition, not merely of all the Protestant members of the government,
not merely of the moderate and respectable heads of the Roman Catholic
body, but even of several members of the jesuitical cabal. [202]
Sunderland shrank from the thought of an Irish revolution, religious,
political, and social. To the Queen Tyrconnel was personally an object
of aversion. Powis was therefore suggested as the man best qualified
for the viceroyalty. He was of illustrious birth: he was a sincere Roman
Catholic: and yet he was generally allowed by candid Protestants to be
an honest man and a good Englishman. All opposition, however, yielded
to Tyrconnel's energy and cunning. He fawned, bullied, and bribed
indefatigably. Petre's help was secured by flattery. Sunderland was
plied at once with promises and menaces. An immense price was offered
for his support, no less than an annuity of five thousand pounds a year
from Ireland, redeemable by payment of fifty thousand pounds down. If
this proposal were rejected, Tyrconnel threatened to let the King
know that the Lord President had, at the Friday dinners, described His
Majesty as a fool who must be governed either by a woman or by a priest.
Sunderland, pale and trembling, offered to procure for Tyrconnel supreme
military command, enormous appointments, anything but the viceroyalty:
but all compromise was rejected; and it was necessary to yield. Mary of
Modena herself was not free from suspicion of corruption. There was
in London a renowned chain of pearls which was valued at ten thousand
pounds. It had belonged to Prince Rupert; and by him it had been left
to Margaret Hughes, a courtesan who, towards the close of his life, had
exercised a boundless empire over him. Tyrconnel loudly boasted that
with this chain he had purchased the support of the Queen. There were
those, however, who suspected that th