It is a well-known maxim of our law that the Crown cannot lose its rights through lapse of time. In modern practice this doctrine has been somewhat modified by statute and by the decisions of judges; but in the time of James I. it was accepted literally, and no lawyer or official seems to have thought that there was anything extraordinary in setting up a title for the King which had not been heard of for generations. Those who suffered by the transaction pleaded that Art MacMurrough had no right to the country in the feudal sense, and could not therefore surrender it; and even if the effect of Lord Lovel's attainder were admitted, there had been no attempt to act upon it for 120 years. The official correspondence has hitherto been followed here, but it is fair to append the criticism of a thoroughly competent observer who lived not far off and who understood the subject. The learned David Rothe, who was a very honest and by no means extreme man, appealed like Bacon to foreign countries and the next age, and published the story of the Wexford settlement in Latin. He showed how little chance rude and illiterate peasants had against lawyers, and he foresaw the consequences of driving them to desperation. 'The Viceroy,' he wrote, 'ought to have looked closer before he suggested an imperfect and shaky title to the King, as a solid foundation for his new right, and before he drove from their well established and ancient possession harmless poor natives encumbered with many children and with no powerful friends. They have no wealth but flocks and herds, they know no trade but agriculture or pasture, they are unlearned men without human help or protection. Yet though unarmed they are so active in mind and body that it is dangerous to drive them from their ancestral seats, to forbid them fire and water; thus driving the desperate to revenge and even the more moderate to think of taking arms. They have been deprived of weapons, but are in a temper to fight with nails and heels and to tear their oppressors with their teeth. Necessity gives the greatest strength and courage, nor is there any sharper spur than that of despair. Since these Leinster men, and others like them, see themselves excluded from all hopes of restitution or compensation, and are so constituted that they would rather starve upon husks at home than fare sumptuously elsewhere, they will fight for their altars and hearths, and rather seek a bloody death near the sepulchres of their fathers than be buried as exiles in unknown earth or inhospitable sand.'[146] [Sidenote: Outlaws about the plantations.]