[Sidenote: It is doubtful whether English law or Irish custom is best.]
Fitton says Shane MacOliver's speech grieved him to the heart, for he could not deny its truth, and yet he thought the presence of the soldiers was of some use in keeping the peace. The country was as safe to travel, he said, as the English Pale, but 'I and my men also live most part without any money, and they almost without clothes for lack of money.' Peace was maintained on very precarious terms. O'Connor Don lay in Athlone Castle as security for all his clan, but some of his friends brought one of the light Shannon boats or 'cots' under the walls, into which he stepped and bid farewell to his host. Fitton sallied forth next day, took and garrisoned his chief castle of Ballintober, and declared that that stronghold, along with Shrule and Longford, would have to be always held. O'Connor Don and MacDermot and all the gentlemen of Mayo were indicted, with the view of entitling the Queen to the northern half of Connaught; and Clanricarde's sons were indicted also. But the O'Connors, having got their chief out of prison, cared nothing for the lawyers, and ranged the country at will. Their men, who between Scots and natives were not less than 1,000, never showed themselves except when numerically superior. Mr. Moore, lieutenant to Captain Maltby, was wounded in a skirmish, and sixty-four of his troopers deserted; very naturally, considering the way in which they were treated. They seem to have made their way to Dublin, where Fitzwilliam punished a few, and persuaded the rest to return. In surrendering the sword, Sidney had not the satisfaction of seeing his favourite project of presidencies entirely successful.[190]
[Sidenote: Tremayne's report on Ireland.]
Among countless reports on the state of Ireland, one by Edmund Tremayne, who had been acting as Sidney's secretary, deserves particular notice. In general, he says, the people had no conscience, but committed crimes freely; and they had so little morality that they even changed wives among themselves. Bridges were falling down, churches were roofless, and no new charities had replaced the old monastic ones. Good schools there were none, for no teacher could be sure of being paid. In the law everything was jobbed by certain families, and even the judicial bench was filled with unlearned men. Bills were therefore badly drafted, justice was thwarted, and there was general hostility to reform. Bad in Dublin, matters were worse in the country, where courts of quarter sessions, courts leet, and courts baron existed only in theory. Every lord hated the restraints of law, and made himself an Irish chief. English officials were no better, and there was little apparent difference between a seneschal and a native captain, disorders being as great among English soldiers as among Irish kernes and gallowglasses. All Englishmen made parties among the Irish, and everything tended to go daily from bad to worse. 'An excellent, unspotted character,' said Archbishop Loftus, 'is a rare thing in this realm.'[191]