ome delay and much opposition, a commission was
appointed; but although the "Popish Plot" had not yet made its
appearance, a wild "no Popery" cry was raised, and the King was obliged
to recall Lord Berkeley, and substitute the Earl of Essex. Even this did
not quiet the storm. On the 9th of March, 1673, an address was presented
to the King by the Commons in England, demanding the persecution of
Papists in Ireland; and the weak monarch, all the more afraid of
appearing to show partiality, because of his apprehension that Popery
might be the true religion, and his still more serious apprehensions
that his people might find out his opinion, at once complied, and even
recalled the Commission of Enquiry.

In 1677 Ormonde was again appointed Viceroy, and he held the office
during the ensuing seven years, at an advanced age, and a period of
extraordinary political excitement. The "Popish treason" was the first
and the most fearful of these panics. Ormonde was at Kilkenny when he
received the first intimation of the conspiracy, October 3, 1678; but he
had too much knowledge of the world to credit it for a moment. Like
other politicians of that, and indeed of other ages, he was obliged to
keep up his reputation by appearing to believe it in public, while in
private[508] he treated the whole affair with the contempt it merited.
It was soon reported that the plot had extended to Ireland, and
Archbishop Talbot was selected as the first victim. The prelate then
resided with his brother, Colonel Talbot, at Carton, near Maynooth. He
was in a dying state; but although his enemies might well have waited
for his end, he was taken out of his bed, carried to Dublin, and
confined a prisoner in the Castle. He died two years later. "He was the
last distinguished captive destined to end his days in that celebrated
state prison, which has since been generally dedicated to the peaceful
purposes of a reflected royalty."[509] His brother was arrested, but
allowed to go beyond the seas; and a Colonel Peppard was denounced in
England as one of the leading Irish traitors. But the Colonel was quite
as imaginary as the plot. No such person existed, and a _non est
inventis_ was all the return that could be made to the most active
inquiries. There was one illustrious victim, however, who was found, who
was executed, and who was not guilty, even in thought, of the crime of
which he was accused.

Oliver Plunkett had been Archbishop of Armagh since the deat