During the trial, reliance on the common patriarchal beliefs regarding the social structure was evident in the prosecution’s case and Castlehaven’s defense. Because the source of the accusations was the Earl’s inferiors, he was not unfounded when criticizing their testimonies. His peers would agree with him that women were morally corrupt, that heirs were sometimes greedy and impatient, and that servants could be spiteful. It seems as though such staunch supporters of patriarchal governance would dismiss most testimonies from the opposite sex or lower classes if they differed from that of the head of household. In fact, given the attitude of the times “where women and servants were seen as vulnerable as well as unreliable,” the Earl’s claims of conspiracy were not baseless. Also, the Earl was correct when he questioned the court’s allowance of the wife’s testimony to be used against him, for this was not commonly permitted. Castlehaven even threatened that a conviction would put his peers in danger of conspiracy by setting a bad precedent and so “by acquitting him, the peers could uphold patriarchy, piety, and honor” (86).
The Earl made many valid points but his claims of conspiracy were as disturbing as the refutation of rape and sodomy. By victimizing himself, Castlehaven proved that he failed in proper household governance. “If the jurors believed the realm’s officials, a decisive guilty verdict would renaturalize patriarchal governance, reaffirming its power to protect subordinates from internal as well as external threats,” writes Herrup (86). It did not matter that testimony was given from inferiors; the Earl condemned himself. His own defense could be used against him because it showed he had allowed an environment in his household that bred hostility and rebellion. Although Castlehaven was ultimately convicted, the fact that the jurors ignored his warnings of the dangers of conspiracy is interesting. Perhaps, by believing Castlehaven they would be admitting to their own vulnerability as heads of households and, on a larger scale, the weakness of patriarchal governance – an admittance that would be unacceptable. Therefore, based on the testimonies of women and servants, in a legally unsound courtroom, the 2nd Earl of Castlehaven was convicted of the refutable charges of rape and sodomy.
Also important to Castlehaven’s guilty verdict were his ties to Ireland and Catholicism. “The charges against Castlehaven fitted contemporary ideas of Catholic and Irish failing at a moment when both groups were the particular focus of near hysteria.” In other words, horrendous crimes such as rape and sodomy fit ideas attributed to both groups at the time. Since Castlehaven’s earldom was rooted in Ireland and he previously flirted with Catholicism, he was all the more guilty in the eyes of his peers.
The incredible political tensions in England during the time of Castlehaven’s trial give more insight to its verdict. The king’s strong commitment to family values and his idea of himself as the ideal exemplar of good governance was disrupted by the disorder within the Earl’s manor. Just like Castlehaven was (purposefully or not) unable to order his inferiors, the trial made public the king’s inability to control one of his subjects. “Such blatant disregard of the royal example made a mockery of Charles I’s belief that his behavior could will loving families into existence,” Herrup writes (83). The king was already under fire for his disregard of the religious and financial aspects of the Petition of Right and the Three Resolutions, his reputation as a moral leader was now up in the air too. Because the trial came at a time when the king could not afford bad publicity, Charles I had a large stake in convicting Castlehaven, who he believed was the head of the antithesis of a loving, ordered household. The financial aspect of a conviction was attractive to the king as well. A forfeited estate was an asset to a monarch who refused to call parliament, and Charles I did in fact give Fonthill Gifford away as compensation to a generous baron, Francis Cottington, after the Earl’s execution.
Though the jury was almost unanimous in convicting the Earl of rape, only fifteen of the twenty-seven voted for conviction of sodomy, some feeling there was not ample evidence. It is interesting to note, “There is a clear duplication between the dissenting jurors and those who eventually took arms against the king.” With the benefit of hindsight, it could be said that the trial was a slight forecast for the eventual total dissatisfaction with the monarch, leading to Civil War. Although the accusations were rape and sodomy, Castlehaven’s guilt was also clearly political.
By avoiding the automatic assumption of Castlehaven’s guilt, Cynthia B. Herrup looks beyond the accusations of rape and sodomy to “see the enforcement of law for what it is – a forum for cultural interaction” (6). In doing this, she has presented the reader with a social and political environment in which both the aristocracy and monarchy have something to lose through Castlehaven’s acquittal, making his ambiguous guilt seem certain. The aristocracy refuses to forfeit their honor or give in to the terrifying disorder that plagued the Earl. They can further display their repulsion for Irishness and Catholicism. The king can symbolically prove that one bad apple doesn’t ruin a harvest; he is still effectively ruling by example. Herrup has successfully used a trial of sexual scandal to provide insight into a tumultuous segment of early modern English history.
