had no intention of meeting Perrot on equal terms; and, after deluding him with one excuse and another, finally declared that a duel was out of the question. ‘For,’ said he, ‘if I should kill Sir John Perrot the queen of England can send another president into this province; but if he do kill me there is none other to succeed me or to command as I do’ (Rawlinson, Life, p. 63). Perrot swore to ‘hunt the fox out of his hole’ without further delay. Shortly afterwards he was drawn by a trick into a carefully prepared ambush. Outnumbered by at least ten or twelve to one, he would certainly have lost his life had not the opportune arrival of Captain Bowles with three or four soldiers caused Fitzmaurice, who mistook them for the advance guard of a larger body, to withdraw hastily. Even this lesson did not teach Perrot prudence. For having, as he believed, driven Fitzmaurice into a corner, he allowed himself to be deluded into a parley, under cover of which Fitzmaurice managed to withdraw his men into safety. In June 1572 he again sat down before Castlemaine, and, after a three months' blockade, forced the place to surrender. He encountered Fitzmaurice, who was advancing to its relief at the head of a body of Scoto-Irish mercenaries, in MacBrian Coonagh's country. Fitzmaurice, however, with the bulk of his followers, managed to make good his escape into the wood of Aharlow. Perrot's efforts to expel them were crippled by the refusal of his soldiers to serve until they received some of their arrears of pay. But the garrison at Kilmallock, assisted by Sir Edmund and Edward Butler, rendered admirable service; and Fitzmaurice, finding himself at the end of his tether, sued for mercy. Perrot reluctantly consented to pardon him. He was somewhat reconciled to this course by Fitzmaurice's submissive attitude, and comforted himself with the hope that the ex-rebel, having seen the error of his ways, would eventually prove ‘a second St. Paul.’
Having thus, as he vainly imagined, restored tranquillity to Munster, he begged to be allowed to return home. During his tenure of office he had killed or hanged at least eight hundred rebels, with the loss of only eighteen Englishmen, and had done something to substitute English customs for Irish in the province. But the service had told severely on his constitution; and for every white hair that he had brought over with him he protested he could show sixty. He was dissatisfied with Elizabeth's determination to restore Gerald Fitzgerald, fifteenth earl of Desmond [q. v.]; he was annoyed by reports that reached him of Essex's interference with his tenantry; and, though able to justify himself, he could ill brook to be reprimanded by the privy council for his conduct in regard to the Peter and Paul, a French vessel hailing from Portugal with a valuable cargo of spices, which he had caused to be detained at Cork. A graceful letter of thanks from Elizabeth, desiring him to continue at his post, failed to alter his resolution; and in July 1573 he suddenly returned to England without leave. His reception by Elizabeth was more gracious than he had reason to expect; and pleading ill-health as an excuse for not returning to Munster, where he was eventually superseded by Sir William Drury [q. v.], he retired to Wales. To Burghley he declared that it was his intention to lead a countryman's life, and to keep out of debt. But as one of the council of the marches, and vice-admiral of the Welsh seas, he found plenty to occupy his attention, especially in suppressing piracy along the coast (cf. Gent. Mag. 1839, ii. 354). In May 1578 a complaint was preferred against him by Richard Vaughan, deputy-admiral in South Wales, of tyrannical conduct, trafficking with pirates, and subversion of justice. Perrot had apparently little difficulty in exonerating himself; for he was shortly afterwards appointed commissioner for piracy in Pembrokeshire.
In August 1579 he was placed in command of a squadron appointed to cruise off the western coast of Ireland, to intercept and destroy any Spanish vessels appearing in those waters. On 29 Aug. he sailed from the Thames on board the Revenge with his son Thomas. On 14 Sept. he anchored in Baltimore Bay; and after spending a few days on shore, ‘where they were all entertained as well as the fashion of that country could afford,’ he sailed to Cork, and from Cork coasted along to Waterford, where he met Sir William Drury, who shortly before his death knighted his son Thomas and Sir William Pelham [q. v.] After coasting about for some time, and the season of the year growing too late to cause any further apprehension on the part of Spain, Perrot determined to return home. In the Downs he fell in with one Deryfold, a pirate, whom he chased and captured off the Flemish coast; but on trying to make the mouth of the Thames he struck on the Kentish Knocks. Fortunately he succeeded in getting off the sand, and reached Harwich in safety. During his absence his enemies had tried to undermine his credit with the queen; and early in 1580 one Thomas Wyriott, a justice of the peace, formerly a yeoman of the guard, exhibited certain complaints against ‘his intolerable dealings.’ Wyriott's complaints were submitted to the privy council, and, being pronounced slanderous libels, Wyriott was committed to
