government, his presence had undoubtedly the effect of weakening the president's authority and stimulating the elements of discontent in the province. His language towards the council was certainly most reprehensible, and unfortunately he did not confine his abuse to words. In January 1587 he committed Fenton to the Marshalsea on pretext of a debt of 70l. owing to him. But though compelled by Elizabeth instantly to set him at liberty, he seemed to have lost all control over himself. Only a few days afterwards he committed the indiscretion of challenging Sir Richard Bingham, and on 15 May he came to actual blows in the council chamber with Sir Nicholas Bagenal. The fault was perhaps not altogether on his side, but government under the circumstances suffered, and in January Elizabeth announced her intention to remove him.
In May one Philip Williams, a former secretary of Perrot, whom he had long kept in confinement, offered to make certain revelations touching his loyalty, and Loftus took care that his offer should reach Elizabeth's ears. This was the beginning of the end. Williams was released on bail, not to quit the country without special permission, in June; but he steadily refused to reveal his information to any one except the queen herself. In December Sir William Fitzwilliam [q. v.] was appointed lord deputy, but six months elapsed before he arrived in Dublin. Meanwhile, racked with the stone, and feeling his authority slipping away from him inch by inch, Perrot's position was pitiable in the extreme. But it must be said in his favour that when he surrendered the sword of state on 30 June 1588, Fitzwilliam was compelled to admit that he left the country in a state of profound peace. Shortly before his departure he presented the corporation of Dublin with a silver-gilt bowl, bearing his arms and crest, with the inscription ‘Relinquo in pace’ (cf. Gilbert, Cal. Municipal Records, ii. 220). He sailed on Tuesday, 2 July, for Milford Haven, leaving behind him, according to Sir Henry Wallop, a memory ‘of so hard usage and haughty demeanour amongst his associates, especially of the English nation, as I think never any before him in this place hath done.’ After his departure Fitzwilliam complained that, contrary to the express orders of the privy council, he had taken with him his parliament robes and cloth of state.
Among others a certain Denis Roughan or O'Roughan, an ex-priest whom Perrot had prosecuted for forgery, offered to prove that he was the bearer of a letter from Perrot to Philip of Spain, promising that if the latter would give him Wales, Perrot would make Philip master of England and Ireland. The letter was a manifest forgery, but it derived a certain degree of plausibility from the recent betrayal of Deventer by Sir William Stanley [q. v.] One Charles Trevor, an accomplice of O'Roughan's, knew the secret of the forgery, and, according to Bingham, Fitzwilliam could have put his hand on him had he liked to do so. But in a collection of the material points against Perrot, drawn up by Burghley on 15 Nov. 1591, O'Roughan's charge finds no place, though the substance of it was afterwards incorporated in the indictment. Still, if there was no direct evidence of treason against him, there was sufficient matter to convict him of speaking disparagingly of the queen. Notwithstanding Burghley's exertions in his favour, there was an evident determination on the part of Perrot's enemies to push the matter to a trial, and there is a general concurrence of opinion in ascribing the pertinacity with which he was prosecuted to the malice of Sir Christopher Hatton (cf. Cal. State Papers, Eliz. Add. 12 March 1591). According to Sir Robert Naunton, who married Perrot's granddaughter, Perrot had procured Hatton's enmity by speaking scornfully of him as having made his way to the queen's favour ‘by the galliard,’ in allusion to his proficiency in dancing. But Naunton was unaware that Hatton owed him a deeper grudge for having seduced his daughter Elizabeth (Archæol. Cambr. 3rd ser. xi. 117).
After a short confinement in Lord Burghley's house, Perrot was in March 1591 removed to the Tower. More than a year elapsed before his trial, and on 23 Dec. he complained that his memory was becoming impaired through grief and close confinement. On 27 April 1592 he was tried at Westminster on a charge of high treason before Lord Hunsdon, Lord Buckhurst, Sir Robert Cecil, and other specially constituted commissioners. According to the indictment he was charged with contemptuous words against the queen, with relieving known traitors and Romish priests, with encouraging the rebellion of Sir Brian O'Rourke [q. v.], and with treasonable correspondence with the king of Spain and the prince of Parma. Practically the prosecution, conducted by Popham and Puckering, confined itself to the charge of speaking contemptuously of the queen. Perrot, who was extremely agitated, did not deny that he might have spoken the words attributed to him, but resented the interpretation placed upon them. Being found guilty, he was taken back to the Tower. He still hoped for pardon. ‘God's death!’ he exclaimed. ‘Will the queen suffer her brother to be offered up a sacrifice to the envy of his frisking adversary?’ His last will
