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 death of Dr. O’Reilly, in 1669.  He belonged to the noble family of Fingall; but he was more respected for his virtues and his office than even for his rank.  He was now accused of being in correspondence with the French; it was a favourite charge against Catholics at that time, and one which could be easily brought forward by men who did not mind swearing to a lie, and not easily disproved by men who could only assert their innocence.  Lord Shaftesbury was the great patron of Titus Oates, the concocter of the plot, and the perjured murderer of scores of innocent men.  It was a serious disappointment to find that no evidence of a conspiracy could be found in Ireland.  Carte, who certainly cannot be suspected of the faintest shadow of preference for an Irishman or a Catholic, says that every effort was made to drive the people into rebellion.  He gives the reason for this, which, from former experience, one fears must be true.  “There were,” he says, “too many Protestants in Ireland who wanted another rebellion, that they might increase their estates by new forfeitures.”  “It was proposed to introduce the Test Act and all the English penal laws into Ireland; and that a proclamation should be forthwith issued for encouraging all persons that could make any further discoveries of the horrid Popish plot, to come in and declare the same.”