b 
 
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G{3 
 
ELIZABETH, DUCHESS OF HAMILTON AND BRANDON. 
 
 [Frontispiece. 
 
SOME CELEBRATED 
 
 IRISH BEAUTIES^ 
 
 LAST CENTUEY 
 
 FRANCES GERARD 
 
 AUTHOR OF "aXGELICA KAVFFMAXX : A BIOGIiAPHY 
 
 niTR yVMEROUS PORTRAITS ASB ILLUSTRATION'S 
 
 BOSTON COLLFGE LIBRARY 
 
 LONDON 
 WAKD AND DOWNEY 
 
 Limited 
 
 12 YORK BUILDINGS, ADELPHI, W.C. 
 
 1895 
 
 [All rights reservecl] 
 
DA SI 6-7 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Introduction ix 
 
 Mary Moleswobth, Countess of Belvedere ... 1 
 
 Eleanor Ambrose, " the Dangerous Papist " . . .14 
 
 The Gunnings 30 
 
 Maria, Countess op Coventry ...... 57 
 
 Elizabeth, Duchess of Hamilton and Argyll . . .80 
 Mrs. Travis and the Other Two Daughters . . .96 
 General Gunning and the Story of His Daughter 
 
 GUNILDA 100 
 
 Peg Woffington 118 
 
 Dorothea Monroe .141 
 
 The Three Miss Montgomerys . . . . . .162 
 
 Elizabeth La Touche, Countess of Laneshorough . . 192 
 Anne Luttrell, Duchess of Cumberland . . . .211 
 
 The Romance of the Coghlans of Ardo .... 230 
 
 Miss Farren, Countess of Derby 247 
 
 Appendix 273 
 
 Index 291 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTEATIONS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Elizabeth, Duchess of Hamilton and Brandon . . Frontispiece 
 Lady Belvedere ......... 9 
 
 John Gunning 35 
 
 Miss Gunning . . . . . . . . . .51 
 
 Maria, Countess of Coventry ..... to face 57 
 
 Lady Anne Foley ....... ,,78 
 
 Elizabeth, Duchess of Hamilton .... ,,88 
 
 Countess of Derby (Lady Betty Hamilton) . . . .90 
 
 Miss Kitty Gunning .98 
 
 " Gunilda " Gunning ........ lOi 
 
 Mrs. Woffington to face 128 
 
 Dolly Monroe ; . 143 
 
 Lord Townshend . . . . . . . . .153 
 
 The Three Montgomerys ...... to face 176 
 
 Countess of Lanesborough ..... ,, 193 
 
 H.R.H. The Duchess of Cumberland and Strathern (Anne 
 
 Luttrell) 216 
 
 Crook-an-Heire (The Gallows of the Heir) .... 233 
 Miss Farren, Countess of Derby . ... to face 256 
 
I HAVE to acknowledge my indebtedness for much valuable 
 help to Mr. Algernon Graves, Mr. Colnaghi, and the Hon. 
 Gerald Ponsonby, and to the owners of the various Portraits, 
 who have been most courteous in giving every information. 
 
 Frances Gerard. 
 April, 1895. 
 
INTEODUCTION. 
 
 Thus often shall memory, in dreams sublime, 
 Catch a glimjsse of the days that are over ; 
 
 Thus sighing, look through the waves of time, 
 For the long-faded glories they cover. 
 
 Moore. 
 
 Looking back across the gulf of years wliicli divides us from 
 the last century, we are struck by the total change that has 
 passed over society generally. No men like those giants in 
 intellect, Chatham, Fox, Swift, Johnson, now fill the canvas ; 
 no fine gentlemen, who, as Thackeray says, were in them- 
 selves a product of the past. And the women ! — those 
 wondrously fair creatures, whose faces have been handed 
 down to us by Eeynolds, Romney, Gainsborough, and who 
 smile at us from their gilt frames ! What witchery in the 
 almond-shaped eyes, long and languishing ; what pouting lips ; 
 what arched and lovely necks ; what queenly dignity in their 
 gait and carriage ! 
 
 To this last the fashion of dress then prevailing contributed 
 not a little. The loose flowing robes and floating draperies 
 give an air of indescribable grace ; while the choice of 
 colours, the soft blues and browns, charm the eye. Setting 
 this aside, however, there can be no question that the women 
 of the last century possessed more of actual beauty than 
 is to be found amongst the belles of our day. Tliere is 
 no lack of pretty faces, but beauty of the highest order is 
 rare ; so too is the lady of high degree with her brocaded 
 skirt, her courtly grace, and her grand air. She belongs to 
 the past, like the fine gentleman. 
 
 Many of these "goddesses" were Irishwomen — not pure 
 Celts, but of a mixed race, born of the industrious planting 
 of English seltlers upon Irish soil. 
 
X Introduction. 
 
 In dealing with social life in Ireland during the last century 
 we are confronted with many difficulties. Its brighter aspects 
 are so inextricably mixed up with the graver and sadder past 
 that it is impossible to touch upon one portion without intro- 
 ducing subjects which might seem out of place in a book of 
 such slight pretensions as this purports to be. Still, if we 
 wish to gather a faithful picture of Irish society as it was 
 constituted more than a hundred and fifty years ago, we must 
 examine, be it ever so slightly, into the conditions of the 
 country before we shall be able to understand certain national 
 characteristics. 
 
 We have to recall, in the first place, that for many cen- 
 tuines Ireland was the battle-field of four different races, each 
 of whom left its trace upon the conquered people and country. 
 Henry the Second, the most successful of these invaders, made 
 no attempt at either civilizing or subjugating the country he 
 had annexed. Neither did his immediate descendants/ who 
 contented themselves with maintaining an army of occupation 
 to keep the native tribes in order. The English law was 
 confined to a level district round the capital containing the 
 small shires or counties of Louth, Meath, Kildare and Dublin. 
 To these was limited the jurisdiction of the viceroy or deputy ; 
 all beyond was supposed, in law, not to exist. In court 
 language, says the author of the Church in Ireland : " The 
 land of Ireland was synonymous with the Pale. Outside this 
 Pale ran an ample stripe (comprehending a third, and some- 
 times the half of each county) of borderland in which a 
 mixed code of English, Brehon and martial law prevailed.^' 
 
 Outside the Pale, and occasionally within it, general chaos 
 prevailed. The country was held by chieftains, who made war 
 one upon another, and upon the descendants of Henry's army 
 of occupation ; these last were distinguished from the native 
 chiefs by nothing but superior skill in the arts of predatory 
 
 ^ Richard III. was the first to make the experiment of an English 
 plantation. In his reign two from every family in England were 
 transplanted to Ireland at the king's charges. No Irishman was 
 to leave the country without a licence, and killing a mere Irishman was 
 punishable only by BrehoQ law. 
 
Introdtution. xi 
 
 warfare. Some of them had, in the course of years, renounced 
 the laws, the language, and the usages of their own country. 
 In the space of fifty years, eight Palatinates had been formed ; 
 within each the lord or chief possessed absolute rights. They 
 spent their time making forays upon their own country- 
 men of a better class, who were possessed of richer meadows 
 and finer cattle than the natives, and from them they carried 
 away corn and oxen. 
 
 Jaraes the First was the first to upset this state of anarchy. 
 Elizabeth ' had attempted the task, but had limited her efforts 
 to destroying, or trying to destroy, the power of the nobles. 
 James went to work thoroughly, and, with excellent in- 
 tentions, he visited the country, and made himself master of 
 the situation. Unfortunately he began at the wrong end. 
 It is true he abolished the Pale, and extinguished the Brehon 
 law ; but his transplanting bodily a,n English settlement, and 
 his forcing an English constitution all at once upon a half 
 savage people, was an experiment fraught with too much 
 risk to be prudently tried ; the result was shown in the great 
 rebellions, the bloody retribution of the Cromwellian army, 
 followed by a new Cromwellian settlement, and the final 
 and disastrous struggle between James the Second and 
 William. 
 
 When the din of war had ceased, and politicians and 
 thinking people gathered their senses so as to look round 
 them at what remained after the general upheaval, a strange 
 and wonderful change met their gaze. The face of the 
 country was entirely altered ; clans and chieftains had 
 disappeared ; the old oligarchy was extinct ; the surface of 
 society was entirely re-arranged upon a new and English 
 method; the whole proprietary of the island had become 
 British and Protestant ; the original owners had, with few 
 exceptions, descended to the middle class or peasant life, 
 and the new race of landlords, English and Scotch, were 
 mostly soldiers of fortune, adventurers, or younger sons of 
 English noblemen. - 
 
 ' Elizabeth made an English plantation in Munster. 
 * James I, abolished the old feudal customs of Thanistry and 
 a 2 
 
xii Iiitrodttction. 
 
 The minds of these men were filled with one idea. They 
 were, says a writer on the history of the Church in Ireland/ 
 "imbued with the new doctrine of liberty, that undefined 
 quantity which is so easily stretched into total freedom from 
 all responsibility ; it was only natural that these men^ flushed 
 with victory, new to power, and anxious to build up a fortune 
 for their families, should stretch the word to its most licen- 
 tious signification. Liberty meant to them liberty taken 
 with the rights of others, and a close observance and respect 
 for their own rights, together with an impatience of all 
 authority, and a decided appetite for power. They had nothing 
 to restrain them in pursuing the object of their desires ; the 
 Viceroy was not a resident official, and the length of the 
 Parliament, which lasted without a break through the life of 
 
 Gavelkind. By the law of Thanistry every man of noble blood was 
 eligible to be chief of his tribe : the law of Gavelkind was equally 
 liberal ; it gave to every vassal a fair share of the land. For this 
 James substituted the English law of entail. Lord Chesterfield con- 
 sidered that it was iinfair to exclude the Papists from the Gavel act ; 
 " it was," he said, " the only honest means of governing the country." 
 Ulster was planted by James. The word "undertaker," which will 
 appear often in this volume, datod from this plantation. Large estates 
 were assigned to the Scotch or English planters, and their heirs, and 
 in return, those of 2000 acres were to hold of the king in Capite ; those 
 of 1500 acres by knights service; those of 1000 in common socage. 
 The first named were to build a castle and strong courtyard, or 
 bawn within four years. The second named were to finish a house 
 and bawn within two years — the third class to enclose a bawn. 
 The first were to plant upon their land, within three years, forty-eight 
 able men of English or Scotch birth, to be reduced to twenty families, 
 to keep a demesne of 600 acres in their own hands ; to have four fee 
 farmers on 120 acres each, six leaseholders, each on 100 acres, and on 
 the remainder, eight families of husbandmen, artificers, and cottagers. 
 James was ill-advised in breaking up the spirit of clanship which 
 was similar to that which prevailed (and still prevails in a modified 
 degree) in Scotland ; the principle of subordination was eradicated 
 and no adequate system substituted. Sir John Da vies condemns the 
 system of transplanting people of a different nation, or even province, to 
 another, and lays the fault of all the troubles in Ireland upon " the 
 pride, covetousness, and ill counsel of the English planted there ; idle- 
 ness and fear," he adds, in his quaint manner, " made the Irish the 
 most inquisitive people after news in the world (a failing they possess 
 to this day), and because such miscarriers did, by their false intelli- 
 gence, many times raise troubles and rebellions, the statute of Kil- 
 kenny doth punish 7ieustellers by the name of ' Skelaghes ' with fine 
 and ransom." 
 
 ^ Phelan's Histori/ of the Church of Rome. 
 
Introduction. xiii 
 
 the Sovereign, offered no chance of redress to those whose 
 politics or religion placed them in a minority." 
 
 It was not surprising that this condition of things should 
 have brought on the result that usually follows upon a 
 dominant party pressing upon the weaker with the iron heel 
 of despotism ; hatred was engendered between class and 
 creed, and showed itself in secret societies, assassinations, 
 rebellions. The story has been set forth by many historians, 
 by none with more clearness and intelligence than by Mr. 
 Lecky, in his admirable review of the eighteenth century. 
 Mr. Lecky puts before us, with all the fidelity of a photo- 
 graph, the true picture of the social and political condition 
 of Ireland as it was before the TJnion^ as well as the causes 
 of the failure of all attempts to govern it. He writes with- 
 out the strong religious feeling which biassed Macaulay, or 
 the prejudice which influenced Eroude ; his story, calmly 
 told, impresses the reader with its sincerity. 
 
 Socially, as well as politically, the Ireland of two hundred 
 years ago differed in all particulars from Ireland of to-day. 
 Up to the date of the union between the countries it was, 
 to all intents and purposes, a separate kingdom. In all 
 ofl&cial documents it is spoken of as *^ this kingdom." The 
 sea that rolls between the two countries, and which is now 
 designated a fishpond, was then an effectual barrier to 
 English legislation, as it took days instead of minures, to 
 know what was occurring, especially in the provinces. The 
 journey from London to Dublin was supposed to occupy four 
 days, but this was in case there were no accidents either on 
 sea or by land, and as accidents were the rule, delays spread 
 out the journey to a week or more. For this reason, as well 
 as for the more important one that the country to which they 
 were bound had the worst of reputations as to safety in 
 regard to life and limb, it was customary for strangers going 
 to Ireland to make their wills before undertaking the journey. 
 Once arrived, however, there was enough of enjoyment to 
 make them forget their fears. There were certain elements 
 of importance about Dublin that raised it above provincial 
 towns such as York, Bristol or Edinburgh, especially the fact 
 
xiv Introduction. 
 
 of there being a Parliament with two Houses, the Lords 
 having one hundred members, the Commons three hundred, 
 with all necessary functionaries ; a Prime Minister, a hand- 
 some revenue, a Chancellor of the Exchequer,' and a set of 
 brilliant debaters, whose fame for wit and eloquence became 
 almost European. Add to this the standing army of Irish- 
 raised troops, paid by the Irish revenue, with a Commander- 
 in-Chief and a brilliant staff ; and again the Viceregal Court, 
 provided with all officials necessary for the importance of 
 the mimic sovereign, chamberlains, secretaries, aides-de-camp, 
 and "■ beef- eaters." The whole thing partook, perhaps, more or 
 less, of the Gilbert and Sullivan kingdoms, but with a certain 
 character and distinction of its own. 
 
 All the important offices just named were held in deputy, 
 that is to say, the ostensible holders mostly resided in 
 London, visiting the country from which they drew large 
 salaries only once in two years, the duties being fulfilled by 
 paid deputies. Even the Viceroyalty was no exception to 
 this system of government, which was carried on all over the 
 kingdom, with the result that the people were overtaxed, 
 ground down, rack-rented, hunted, and ill-used by a set of 
 hirelings, whose only interest was to build up fortunes for 
 themselves. Lord Chesterfield, who during his short period 
 
 ' The Parliament House, as it was called (now the Bank of Ireland), 
 was built by Sir Arthur Chichester, one of the governors or deputies, 
 for his own dwelling house ; it was then of mean pretensions ; in the 
 25th year of Charles II. 's reign it was bought by Government for the 
 sittings of the Parliament of Ireland ; it was rebuilt in 1728 from 
 designs originally made by Castle, and supposed to have been either 
 stolen or appropriated by Major Pearce. The first session was opened 
 by the Duke of Dorset, 1731. The Irish Parliament was highly 
 insubordinate. Lord Chesterfield thus describes it: "The House of 
 Lords is an hosjoital for incurables, but the Commons can hardly be 
 described. Session after session presents one unvaried waste of pro- 
 vincial imbecility." This may have been true to a certain extent, in 
 the days when the elegant Stanhope ruled, but later on the character 
 of the House stood very high in the estimation of even foreign powers 
 for the cleverness and eloquence of its members. Such men as Anthony 
 Malone, Flood, Grattan, Langrishe, Ponsonby, and Hely Hutchinson 
 could not have been stigmatized as '' imbeciles." The debating was of 
 the first order. Unfortunately, there was a good deal of froth 
 in this effervescence of rhetoric, which disappeared, in some instances, 
 on the first application of silver. 
 
Introduction. xv 
 
 of Viceroyalty studied the conditions of Irish life, left it as his 
 opinion that the poor people were used worse than negroes by 
 their lords and masters and " deputies of deputies o? deputies." 
 Arthur Young, who made an exhaustive study of the peasan- 
 try during his tour through Ireland, adds that this system 
 " formed an insolent, reckless, unprincipled type of character." 
 Drunkenness and extravagance went hand in hand amongst 
 the gentry (especially the lower gentry), who treated the un- 
 fortunate peasants 9,s slaves, allowing them no rights; the 
 Irish landlord was in fact an absolute despot ; his tenants 
 were serfs. So far as they were concerned, he yielded 
 obedience to no law. 
 
 The passion for horse-racing and gambling was so great, that 
 in 1739 Parliament framed some laws to check the day labourers 
 from taking part in these idling amusements ; but these had 
 little effect; the whole nation being given up to a passion for 
 sporting, drinking, cock-fighting, and dancing. Young adds, " a 
 strong preference of brilliancy, reckless daring and generosity 
 to public spirit, high principle, order, sobriety or economy." 
 
 In the early part of the eighteenth centary, Dublin, as it now 
 is, did not exist. It was a straggling, ill- built, ill-smelling 
 place, the streets as narrow as lanes, the houses tall and in 
 some parts near the quays almost touching those on the oppo- 
 site side of the street, so narrow was the pathway between. 
 A cynic of the day wrote some halting lines which give us 
 an idea of the city : 
 
 Mass-houses, churches, mixed together, 
 
 Streets unpleasant in all weather, 
 
 The church, the Four Courts and hell ' contiguous, 
 
 ' Hell, a name given to a passage close to the Four Courts. Over 
 the entrance there was a black image of the devil. This ia alluded to 
 in Burns' story ot Death and the Horn-book where he says : 
 " But this that I am gaun to tell, 
 Which lately on a night befell, 
 Is just as true as the Deil's in Hell, 
 In Dublin City." 
 
 The presence of his Satanic Majesty in the neighbourhood is thus ac- 
 counted for : Near to where the Law Court stood there had been a 
 church dedicated to St. Michael Le Poule or Le Paule. Over the arch- 
 way or entrance, two statues were placed, one of St. Michael, the other 
 
xvi Introdttction. 
 
 Castle, College-green, and Custom-house gibbous ; 
 
 Few things here are to tempt ye, 
 
 Tawdry outsides, pockets empty. 
 
 Five theatres, little trade, and jobbing arts, 
 
 Brandy and Snuff-shops, post-chaises and carts ; 
 
 Warrants, bailiffs, bills unpaid, 
 
 Masters of their servants afraid ; 
 
 Rogues that daily rob and cut men, 
 
 Patriots, gamesters, and footmen; 
 
 Women lazy, drunken, loose. 
 
 Men in labour slow, of wit profuse, 
 
 Many a scheme that the public must rue it. 
 
 This is Dublin, if ye knew it. 
 
 At this time only a portion of Stephen's Green was finished. 
 Nassau Street and its surroundings, including Merrion Square, 
 were not begun until 1728, and up to this period the tide of 
 fashion flowed in a totally different quarter, the nobility and 
 wealthy citizens Hying for the most part in what was then 
 called the Liberties (this name indicating that there was a 
 royal immunity from all taxation). In this now obsolete part 
 of the town beyond St. Patrick's Cathedral, there are remains 
 of some fine houses once belonging to the great nobility. 
 Here lived the Earls of Kildare in what was called the Carbric, 
 one of the Cage houses, which was only taken down when the 
 family removed to Leinster House. In Lord Meath's liberty 
 there was also a family mansion, and the Bishop's liberty in- 
 cluded the Cathedral with that strange rookery of streets and 
 small alleys which surrounded it. These were inhabited 
 by men of property and position, for, writes Arthur 
 Young, " the nobility and gentlemen of Ireland live in a 
 manner that a man of £700 a year in England would dis- 
 dain." Mrs. Pendarves (better known as Mrs. Delany), who 
 visited Mrs. Clayton, the Bishop of Killaloe's wife, in 1731, 
 gives a graphic picture of Dublin city as it then was. The 
 streets are narrow and the houses dirty looking, but she adds 
 
 of his adversary, the Devil. Cromwell's troopers, in their zeal for the 
 destruction of images, threw the effigy of the saint into the Liffey, but 
 left undisturbed his adversary, who remained over the archway until the 
 Law Courts were removed to the quays in 1786. A gentleman living 
 in Dublin remembered seeing in 1837, the figure thrown into a corner 
 of the old archway — the boys of the neighbourhood amusing themselves 
 by making an Aunt Sally of it. Subsequently it was moved to the 
 museum in Trinity College. — Gilbert's " History of Dublin." 
 
Introduction. xvii 
 
 there are some good ones scattered about. " One of these is 
 Bishop Clayton's^ on the south side of Stephen^s Green, with 
 a frontage like Devonshire House and a flight of steps leading 
 up. There is a good hall ; a room eighteen feet square 
 wainscoted with oak panels carved ; doors and chimney finished 
 with very fine high carving, ceiling stucco, window curtains, 
 chairs, yellow gemma velvet ; portraits and landscapes well 
 done round the room. Marble tables, looking-glasses, — the 
 busts and pictures the bishop brought from Italy. The living 
 too is good — six dishes of meat for dinner, and the same for 
 supper. The generality of people are anything but solicitous 
 to have good houses or good furniture more than is necessary, 
 hardly so much, but they make it up in eating and di'inking." 
 
 The immense consumption of wine in Ireland was a national 
 calamity, nine gentlemen in ten, writes Chesterfield, are im- 
 poverished by the great quantity of claret which from mis- 
 taken notions of hospitality and dignity they think it necessary 
 should be drunk in their houses. If the upper classes were 
 badly housed and consumed hogsheads ^ of claret, the poor 
 were lodged worse, and spent all the small wages they earned 
 in whisky. This vice, together with the overcrowding in 
 the miserable alleys where they were huddled, and the 
 general filth in which they lived, generated the most terrible 
 epidemics from which Dublin was rarely free, and which deci- 
 mated the half-starved and drunken population of the narrow 
 lanes near the Liffey. 
 
 In spite of all these drawbacks, Dublin was a pleasant little 
 city, with its mimic Court, its theatres, and its concerts, for 
 the Irish have always been a music-loving people. Early in 
 the eighteenth century a musical club society was formed in 
 Dublin called the Bull's Head Society ; it was principally for 
 catch singing; in 1741, this Society erected by means of sub- 
 
 ' The claret was generally imported in hogsheads, and in most country 
 honses in Ireland at the time of which I am writing there was a cellar 
 underneath the dining-room. By means of a trap-door, the host could 
 descend and bring up bottle after bottle of wine. Lord Chesterfield wit- 
 tily said, that except in providing that their claret should be three or four 
 years old, the Irish gentry thought less of three years hence than any 
 people under the sun. 
 
xviii Introduction. 
 
 scriptions, in Fishamble Street, a large liall, for the perform- 
 ance of their concerts. Shortly after it was opened the great 
 Maestro Handel came on the invitation of the then Viceroy, 
 the Duke of Devonshire, to Dublin ; he remained nine months 
 and produced several of his great works. The " Messiah " ' was 
 performed for the first time at Fishamble Street, on April 15th, 
 to an audience of 600 people ; the ladies were induced to come 
 without hoops, the gentlemen without swords. Signora Avolio, 
 Mrs. Gibber, Mrs. Church, and Ralph Roseingrave were the 
 soloists. Jennens, the librettist, was not satisfied with the 
 music : " It was not near so good as it might and ought to have 
 been. I have with great difiiculty made him correct some of 
 the grossest faults, but he retained his overture obstinately, 
 in which there are passages far unworthy of Handel, but much 
 more unworthy of the ' Messiah.^ " " It was felt to be an honour 
 to Dublin that such a work should have been produced there, 
 and the inhabitants showed their appreciation by doing all 
 honour to the great master. " I cannot sufficiently express," 
 he writes to his friends, " the kind treatment I receive here ; 
 but the politeness of this generous nation cannot be unknown 
 to you. So I let you judge of the satisfaction I receive, pass- 
 ing my time with honour, profit and pleasure." ^ 
 
 The Dublin Evening Post in its notice of the performance 
 says : — 
 
 '' On Tuesday last Mr. HandeFs oratorio of the 'Messiah' 
 was performed in the new Musical Hall, Fishamble Street; the 
 best judges allowed it to be the most finished piece of music. 
 It is but justice to Mr. Handel that the world should know 
 that he generously gave the money from this great work to be 
 equally shared by the Charitable Infirmary, Mercer's Hospital 
 and the relief of prisoners. There were over 700 persons 
 present and £700 was collected." 
 
 ' The "Messiah" was performed for thej^r*^ time in Dublin. Mainwar- 
 ing, Handel's biographer, speaks of a performance at Covent Garden, 
 but there is no evidence to support this statement. Later on, in 1748, 
 " Judas Maccabeus " was given for the first time. — Nat. Bio. 
 
 ■^ National Biography, vol. 24, page 217. 
 
 ^ Letter to Lord Howe. 
 
Introduction. xlx 
 
 This calculation would lead one to suppose the tickets were 
 £1 a piece, but this is not possible. 
 
 The Hospital authorities gave in 1887 a commemoration 
 of Handel's visit. The performance took place in St. Wer- 
 burgh's Church, close to Christ Church. St. Werburgh's 
 was chosen for the reason that the great master used to play 
 the organ there, to the delight of the crowded congregation, 
 the chui-ch being a fashionable temple where the beaux and 
 belles came to see one another and listen to the music. 
 The organ upon which he played is still to be seen. It is an 
 instrument of extraordinary beauty — the carving on the 
 panel over the keyboard being in fine relievo, but the tone is 
 nothing wonderful. 
 
 St. Werburgh's was a small, elegant-looking church ; its 
 steeple stood 160 feet high and the roof was a masterpiece, 
 but in 1810 both were found to be in a dangerous condition 
 and had to be removed. Now it is little known and rarely 
 visited — strangers sometimes come to see it for the sake of the 
 organ and because in the vaults below the unfortunate Lord 
 Edward FitzGerald is interred. On the wall is an epitaph to 
 one John Edwin, an actor at Crowe Street Theatre, who died 
 of a broken heart from the criticisms passed upon him. The 
 player of our time is much tougher in the cardiac region. 
 
 On the Dublin boards, however, many celebrated actors 
 made their dehut — Macklin, Mossop, Ryan, the handsome and 
 elegant Barry, and a host of others. There were theatres in 
 Fishamble Street and Crowe Street, and Smoke or Smock 
 Alley. In truth a pleasant book could be written anent the 
 drama in Dublin ; the amateurs took their share, some of them 
 being good performers. A taste for amateur theatricals has 
 always prevailed in Ireland. " It is impossible," says a writer 
 on the subject, " to peep into any social corner of Irish life 
 without getting a glimpse of the amateur stage with lamps lit 
 and noble ladies and noble gentlemen in rich dresses playing 
 their parts. Every old faded newspaper is full of complimen- 
 tary notices. Nor must we pass by a picturesque reference 
 to music which is not so regarded in our time. St. Cecilia, 
 the patroness of music, had her day kept with all honour. At 
 
XX Introduction, 
 
 the Castle was maintained a full state band generally under 
 the command of some musician of eminence. Dubourg, who 
 played with Handel (and was much commended by him), filled 
 this office for many years. On St. Cecilia^s Day all the Court 
 and persons of quality repaired in great pomp to St. Patrick's 
 Cathedral, where the Reverend Doctor Swift no doubt objected 
 to such * tweedledum and tweedledee ' ; a fine orchestra was 
 erected, and Mr. Dubourg and his men fiddled away at Corelli, 
 Dr. Blow and Purcell. The performance lasted from ten till 
 three o'clock, and there was not standing room. Another 
 custom prevailed, that of keeping the King's birthday with 
 great state and solemnity ; there was a court in the morning 
 with a ball at night, and Sheridan, Mrs. Brooke, Captain 
 Jephson, or some Irish laureate wrote an ode, usually full of 
 fulsome compliments, which was * set ' by Mr. Dubourg and 
 sung and fiddled by a large choir and orchestra. " A Castle 
 ' festival ' a hundred and seventy years ago took place in the 
 Beef-eaters' Hall, the ladies were all seated in tiers, the topmost 
 row touching the ceiling." 
 
 Sir Bernard Burke (Ulster), who lived all the days of his life 
 under the shadow of Dublin Castle, has left us a curious record 
 of the forms in use at the Mimic Court in the days of the first 
 Georges ; the strict etiquette enforced as to the social position 
 of those who were presented. No solicitors' nor doctors' wives 
 were admitted — only those who had undoubted claims, either 
 of birth or position, were allowed to enter within the charmed 
 circle of the cross-benches. Peeresses sat in dignified seclusion 
 on the red benches. No lady was allowed to dance before the 
 vice King and Queen except those whose station allowed them 
 seats on the cross-benches, and no young lady was allowed to 
 be taken out if she came to the ball without lappets. 
 
 By ten o'clock (sometimes earlier) the minuets were over, 
 and the Viceroy and his lady adjourned to the basset table in 
 another room. The supper room, howevei', was the great 
 attraction ; on the table was a holly tree lit up with a hundred 
 wax tapers, much after the fashion of a modern Christmas tree ; 
 it was, however, the eatables that were sought for. The guests, 
 whose manners were not on a par with their pretensions, would 
 often sweep everything oli" the tables and a lady who was at 
 
Introduction. xxl 
 
 one of these festivities, gives au amusing account of a dis- 
 orderly scene at which she was present, when Lady Santry^s 
 head dress was torn off her head. 
 
 What was wanting in refinement was made up in that gaiete 
 du coeiir in which the Irish have, or at least had, a strong 
 resemblance to the French, and which gave a peculiar charm 
 to society. There was a give and take of wit, a daring spirit 
 of fun and frolic, blended with a singular charm of manner 
 and much real cleverness.' The distance from the English 
 capital kept men of talent more in their own country than in 
 our days of quick locomotion, when a man of genius may 
 truly be said to belong to the world at large. Round Dublin, 
 in the early part of the last century, there was gathered quite 
 a scintillation of talent. " We have cleverer men here in a 
 nutshell than can be produced in the whole circle of London,'^ 
 wrote Chesterfield. The gigantic genius of the great Dean 
 of St. Patrick^s towered over the lesser lights such as Sterne, 
 Berkeley, Delany. 
 
 Nor were the women behindhand. In intellectual matters 
 it may be claimed for Irishwomen that they were in the 
 advance-guard of female philosophers, and took the ini- 
 tiative as blue-stockings. Mrs. Pilkington,- Mrs. Sycon 
 (Psyche),^ Mrs. Griersou,* Mrs. Vesey, Mrs. Brooke,^ make 
 
 1 " They are the most cordial people in the world," writes a lady who 
 visiled Dublin, " with a heartiness that reminds me of Cornwall. Now 
 and then an oddity breaks out, but none so extraordinary but that I 
 can match it in England." 
 
 - Letitia Pilkington, daughter to Dr. Vaulevin, a physician. Dean 
 Swift was of great service to her husband, who was a clergyman. He 
 turned oiit ungrateful and profligate. Mrs. Pilkington did not behave 
 much better. 
 
 ■* Mrs. Sycon, one of the wits. Swift transformed her name into 
 Psyche, and addressed some verses to her. 
 
 ■• Constantia Grierson, a native of Kilkenny. She was brought to 
 Dr. Vaulevin when eighteen to be instructed in obstetric science. She 
 was mistress of Hebrew, Latin, Greek, and French ; understood mathe- 
 matics as well as most men. She wrote elegantly in prose and verse, 
 and, Mrs. Pilkington declared, conversed delightfully. She was one of 
 the most extraonlinary women that any age has ever produced. She 
 died in 1731, at the early age of twenty-seven. Lord Carteret, when he 
 was Viceroy, obtained a patent for her husband to be the King's printer, 
 and to show his appreciation of the wife's talents, had her life inserted 
 in it. 
 
 ^ An authoress of repute, although now her books would not repay 
 reading. She translated some letters from Lady Catesby to Mrs. 
 
xxii Introduction. 
 
 a group of clever women who, as it were, sat at the feet of 
 the great Dean. Some of these " chaste wits " were aflSliated 
 to their sister literati in London. Mrs. Vesey belonged to 
 Mrs. Montagu's coterie, where Miss Barney used to meet 
 her ; and Lady Lucan, who was also blue, was of Irish 
 descent. It was a brilliant society. We shall follow in 
 these pages its gay doings : go to the mimic court, play 
 quadrille and basset, mix with the unruly crowd jostling one 
 another at the supper tables, visit Ranelagh, and see the 
 beauties walk in the beaux walk, where come '^ the fair bare- 
 bosomed maidens of Dublin," ^ hear the rather coarse jests 
 listened to with smiling approval, or get a glimpse at Lucas's 
 coffee-house, where the gentlemen went to drink claret, sit in 
 the bar window and make bets, or talk scandal. 
 
 Lucas's was a haunt for "the Bucks," another word for a 
 fine gentleman. Some were called Pink Dandies from the 
 pastime they indulged in of pinking their victims with the 
 blade of the sword ; others were Mohawks and Bullies, like 
 Tiger Roche and Fighting Fitz-Gerald. These last were a 
 veritable scourge swarming all over the town and ranging the 
 city in search of excitement ; pinking, sweating, chalking, and 
 picking quarrels which ended in duels. The most eminent 
 statesmen, the most successful lawyers, even the fellows of 
 university whose business was the training of the young, 
 were experienced duellists. The great centre of duelling was 
 Daly's Club, which stood next to the old Parliament House ; 
 and here the members would come and excite their political 
 animosities with copious draughts of wine, then hot with rage, 
 rush off to the Phcenix " to satisfy their honour by making 
 
 Hamilton with " a sad distress " in the story ; and wrote a novel 
 called "Julia.'' She was a lovely woman. — Ballard's " Lives of Eminent 
 Women." 
 
 ' The Spy discourses at length upon the extreme indelicacy of the 
 mode of dress worn in the public streets and places of amusement. 
 Arthur Young says Irishwomen walked very seldom in the streets, so 
 those remarks probably applied to another class of women. Not so with 
 their conversation, which was singularly coarse, even for the time in 
 which they lived. 
 
 - The Phoenix Park took its name from the chalybeate spring 
 near the Viceregal lodge ; the Irish word Fiomnioge has been cor- 
 rupted into Phcenix. Lord Chesterfield erected the column with the 
 
Introduction. xxiii 
 
 targets of one anotlier. Every imaginable and trivial cause was 
 made the subject of a duel. The Buck or Bully would walk 
 up and down before Lucas's coffee-house, trailing his cloak on 
 the pavement, and if anyone trod upon it by accident, he at 
 once drew his sword. Another device was to jostle the chair- 
 man.^ It was a rotten, corrupt society this of little Dublin 
 city ; the immorality prevailing amongst the upper classes being 
 second to no capital in Europe ; the doings of the Hell Fire 
 Club rivalled those of the Medenham brothers; the extrava- 
 gance of men and women amounted to a species of madness ; 
 those with no money spent as freely as those who had 
 thousands, while these last were not content with spending 
 what was theirs rightfully, but laid burdens on the family 
 property, which could only be wiped out by the Encumbered 
 Estates Court. 
 
 We come now to the chapter of Irish beauty which has ever 
 been a full one ; since the days when Strongbow fell a victim 
 to the charms of the lovely Eva, and Surrey sang the praises 
 of the fair Geraldine,^ there have been celebrated Irish 
 
 figure of the fabulous bird upon it. " The park is large in extent," 
 says Mrs. Delany, in 1731, "fine turf, agreeable prospects, and a 
 delightful wood, in the midst of which there is a ring where the beaux 
 and belles resort in fine weather ; it is far beyond Hyde Park." 
 
 ' The jostling of a chairman was the ostensible immediate cause of 
 one of the most bloody duels between a certain Mr. Mathews of Thom- 
 astown Castle, and Major Pack, an Englishman, who, with his friend 
 Creed, came over from London in quest of adventure. These two forced 
 a quarrel upon Mathews, who was supported by his friend Macnamara, 
 who challenged Creed. The four men locked themselves into a room at 
 a tavern, and fought with such ferocity that the walls, tables, floor, 
 were in a sea of blood. Nobody thought of interfering in this 
 sanguinary encounter, which lasted until the two Englishmen were 
 stretched senseless on the floor. 
 
 - The Fair Geraldine, or Lady Elizabeth FitzGerald, second daughter 
 to the tenth Earl of Kildare. 
 
 Her sire an Eai'l, her dame of Prince's blood. 
 From tender years in Britain she doth rest, 
 
 With Kinges child where she tastes costly food. 
 Hunsden did first present her to mine eine. 
 
 Bright is her hue and Geraldine she hight, 
 
 Hampton me taught to wish her first for mine. 
 
 And Windsor (las) doth chase her from my sight. 
 
 Her beauty of kind, her virtues from above, 
 
 Happy is he that can obtain her love. 
 
 Surrey's Poems. 
 
xxiv Introduction. 
 
 beauties. When people talk of Irish beauty they generally 
 instance " the Gunnings ; " it comes trippingly off the tongue. 
 But beautiful as were those typical examples, there were many 
 others quite as deserving of notice whose names have fallen 
 into oblivion. We are about to review some of these fair 
 magicians, and tell the story of their lives. Short stories are 
 nowadays the rage ; they are the favourite bantlings of the 
 popular author, and on the principle of multum in parviim a 
 short story is generally acceptable. The short stories here 
 presented have at all events the flavour of actuality. They 
 come to us from that far-away and picturesque past, which 
 holds an interest the present can never possess ; and there- 
 fore it is that an old letter, yellow with age, and tied with a 
 faded ribbon, a withered flower lying in a secret drawer, or a 
 few pages from the diary of some unhappy lady which comes 
 to light now and again, touches the true chord of romance 
 which lies in every heart. The story of human life never 
 wearies, for the reason that it is made up of the same hopes, 
 fears, trials, troubles, and struggles that beset our own every- 
 day existence. 
 
 Some of the stories relating to the celebrated Irish beauties 
 have been told before — a few are, I think, new — and even in 
 the oft-told tale of the Gunnings there is fresh material, 
 and a good deal, that to the ordinary reader may have the 
 interest of novelty. The record of Irish beauty being so ex- 
 tensive, I have had to leave out many who have every claim to 
 admission. It would be, however, an endless task to chronicle 
 all, therefore I have chosen 1731 as the starting point, that 
 being the time when social life in Ireland began again to 
 form itself after the disastrous consequences of the civil war of 
 1680. . . To my regret, I am therefore forced to exclude the 
 Comtesse de Gramont . . . together with Stella and Vanessa. 
 I must add that the interesting memoir of Lady Barrymore, 
 nee Coghlan, is from the pen of Miss Currey, who has likewise 
 contributed the sketch of Ardo. 
 
SOME CELEBRATED IRISH BEAUTIES 
 OF THE LAST CENTURY. 
 
 MARY MOLESWORTH, COUNTESS OF BELVEDERE. 
 1731. 
 
 In Lodge's Peerage — the record of the faded glories of the Irish 
 nobiUty — we learn that the Molesworths of Pencarrow in 
 Cornwall sent^ as was then the custom, a superfluous younger 
 son to make his fortune by assisting the English garrison 
 to subdue the troublesome Celt. This custom, which had 
 originated in the reign of Elizabeth, had been utilized by 
 James the Firsts to whom was due the large settlement called 
 the " Ulster Plantation." These settlers were rewarded by 
 grants of land, from which the original owners had been driven, 
 and these lands having to be defended against the constant 
 raids made by the exasperated natives, a strong English gar- 
 rison was formed, whose business it was to support the Govern- 
 ment, and lend its aid in subduing any attempt at rebellion. 
 
 Robert Molesworth of Pencarrow, having done good service 
 in this manner, was rewarded by a grant of 2500 acres of 
 excellent arable land situated in the fertile plains of Meath. 
 This he held valiantly against all invaders, and in more 
 peaceful times turned his attention to increasing his fortune 
 by other means. Later on, we find he entered into a contract 
 to supply the government with men to serve in the Spanish 
 wai', and likewise to defend the coast from invaders. He 
 charged the modest sum of forty-five shillings per man. For 
 these useful services he was well rewarded ; he became a very 
 wealthy man, and built for himself a fine house called Moles- 
 
2 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 worth Court,' at the corner of Fishamble Street. There his 
 son, Robert Molesworth, was born in 1656. 
 
 Robert was more distinguished than his father had been. 
 He was an Ambassador to the Court of Denmark, an advocate 
 for civil and religious liberty, the friend and associate of 
 Locke, Shaftesbury, and Molyneux. He wrote a book on the 
 political situation of Denmark, which, according to Horace 
 Walpole, overturned the constitution of that country ; and he 
 was before his death raised to the rank of Viscount. Coming 
 nearer to our own time we get acquainted (again through 
 Lodge) with Richard, the second son of the Ambassador, who 
 ultimately succeeded to the family honours as third viscount. 
 Richard followed the fortunes of Churchill, Duke of 
 Marlborough, and was his aide-de-camp at the battle of 
 Ramilies, where he, with great gallantry, saved the general's 
 life at the risk of his own. For this and his good military 
 service, he received rapid promotion ; passed from one com- 
 mand to another, being Master of Ordnance, Field- Marshal, 
 and Commander-in-Chief of the army in Ireland — a post he 
 held up to the time of his death. He married twice, his first 
 wife being a Miss Lucas, and by this lady, who died 1739, he 
 had a family of eight children, five sons, and three daughters. 
 Of these last, Mary was the eldest and the handsomest. She 
 made her dthut in Dublin society when she was only sixteen, 
 and was at once acknowledged to be one of " the belles." 
 
 Considering its size and mean pretensions, the Irish capital 
 could boast in the season of having as good Society as was to 
 be found in the larger metropolis across the water. There 
 was, at that time, a resident nobility in Ireland ; and although 
 even then complaints of absenteeism were frequent, the distance 
 
 ' Mr. Gilbert, in liis history of Dublin, states that Robet Moles- 
 worth's office was confined to victualling ships for the Government ; 
 which was a great convenience, ships having to go to Liverpool or 
 Chester for the purpose. The fortune amassed by Robert Molesworth 
 was considerable, a great portion of the Mynchens Fields, which later 
 on became the best building sites in Dublin, being his, Molesworth 
 Street, called after the family, St. Patrick's Well Lane, which now 
 includes Leinster Street, Nassau Street (formerly Coote Street) and 
 Grafton Street, Merrion Square West, including where Leinster 
 House stands, and Merrion Street. — The Irish Builder, June, 1st, 1893. 
 
Mary Molesworth^ Countess of Belvedere. 3 
 
 from the larger capital, and the difficulties involved in getting 
 there, left a number of persons amply sufficient to form an 
 attractive Society in the capital of their own country. In like 
 manner, Edinburgh and the larger English towns had then 
 their set " seasons/' and furnished the adjoining neighbour- 
 hood with social amusements. Without entering upon the 
 vexed and tangled skein of Irish politics, I, with much humi- 
 lity, would venture to draw the attention of the Eeader to 
 one important fact . . . the expectation that with the return 
 of the old system of government, would come renewal of 
 the golden days of Dublin's prosperity, is fallacious. That 
 prosperity, which was only on the surface, and was more social 
 than commercial, was not destroyed by the Union, but by the 
 force of the same events which has driven trade from the 
 shores of Waterford and Cork. In other words, centralization 
 has crushed with its iron heel the life out of Edinburgh, 
 Dublin, Cork, York, Worcester, and all large towns. 
 
 It is the story of Humpty Dumpty over again. Having 
 once fallen, no power of Home Rule, no House of Lords, nor 
 Assembly of Commons can ever put him sitting on his wall 
 again. In 1731, he had a very secure seat. It was a hundred 
 years before Stephenson's puffing, snorting engines had been 
 thought of; Squire Jones and family travelled in large, com- 
 modious coaches, and Madam Jones and her daughters were 
 content with what gaiety could be got out of York or 
 Bristol ; and what contented Mrs. Jones in England, satisfied 
 Mrs. Murphy, or Mrs. O'Grady in Ireland. Dublin had a 
 winter season when Parliament was sitting, and there was a 
 round of gaiety, dinners, balls, and suppers every night in 
 the week, besides two good theatres, Ranulagh Gardens, and 
 assemblies at Fishamble Street on the plan of London. Mrs. 
 Pendarves,^ whose letters to her sister, Mrs. Anne Granville, 
 give the best account of Dublin society, says, " We go out 
 every evening, except when we stay at home to receive 
 company, when we have two tables, one for quadrille for the 
 elders, and the other over which I preside for commerce." 
 There was also plenty of dancing, " for the men are excellent 
 ' Mary Gninville married first Mr. Pendarves ; secondly, Dean Delany. 
 B 2 
 
4 Some Celebrated Irish BcatUies of Last Century. 
 
 dancers," and the rooms never too crowded ; not more than 
 twenty-four couples at private balls; the crush was greater 
 at the court balls, which were given in the Beefeaters' Hall. 
 Here the ladies were all placed in rows one above the other, 
 so raised that the last touched the ceiling ; " the gentlemen 
 told us that we looked very handsome, and compared us to 
 Cupid's Paradise in the puppet show/' It must, however, 
 have been hard for those seated on the highest bench. . . The 
 English visitor is enthusiastic over the beauty of the Irish 
 women. . . " Lady Ross is the top beauty, but I never saw so 
 many pretty faces collected. Last night I held a commerce 
 table of absolute beauties. Miss Kelly,' who is a perfect 
 beauty, sweet Letty Bushe," Miss Usher,^ Miss Wesley," Miss 
 Ormsby." That Mrs. Pendarves does not name Miss Moles- 
 worth, was probably owing to the fact that the young lady 
 
 ' In 1731 Swift was just recovering from the death of Stella. Those 
 who have read the terrible picture of his mental condition after her 
 death may feel surprised that he should be once more playing his old 
 game of platonic flirtation with all the pretty girls gathered round Mrs. 
 Clayton's commerce table. He went from bud to bud, as our American 
 cousins would say, and poor Mrs. Delany, who was more of a full-blown 
 rose, records rather piteously that Miss Kelly's beauty gained him, 
 although he admired Miss Usher amazingly. " As for me, I come in 
 only as a little by-the-bye." No doubt, had Miss Kelly lived (she died 
 in 1733) she would have formed a pendant to Stella and Vanessa. The 
 saturnine Dean had marked her for his plaything, and we all know the 
 fate that awaited his toys. Miss Kelly was the daughter of Captain 
 Denis Kelly ; she was a wit and a beauty. The Dean superintended 
 her education, and guided her conduct — he would sit by her bedside 
 when she was ill. 
 
 ■•^ Bushe is a well known and respected name in Ireland. Miss Letty 
 is constantly mentioned in Mrs. Delany's correspondence. " A i^rettier 
 creature than Letitia Bushe I never saw before that malicious distemper 
 seized upon her (the distemper was the small-pox). Good-humoured 
 and innocent, without the least conceit of her beauty — she paints 
 delightfully. All the men," she goes on, " were dying for her whilst 
 she was in danger, but, notwithstanding their admiration, not one of 
 them will be generous enough to marry her while a certain lawsuit is 
 pending, and now indeed their adoration will cease. They will not 
 acknowledge her for a divinity since she is divested of those charms 
 that occasioned their devotion.'' Miss Bushe, however, recovered her 
 beauty. She remained Miss Bushe to the end of the chapter. 
 
 ^ Mary Usher, daughter to the Archdeacon of Clonfert. She was 
 the second wife of Richard, third Viscount Molesworth, and met a 
 disastrous fate. See page 10. 
 
 '' Miss Wesley, a charming girl, daughter to Garret Wesley, Earl of 
 Mornington. 
 
Maiy Molesivorth, Countess of Belvedere. 5 
 
 was still in the schoolroom when Mrs. Pendarves paid her 
 visit to Mrs. Clayton. 
 
 We hear of her, howevei*, a few months later, when, in 
 January, 1732, she took part in Lord Mountjoy's private 
 theatricals. The play was " The Distressed Mother," a 
 stock piece at the theatres, for which reason one woald 
 have supposed that amateurs would have avoided it, but 
 we all know the stale saying as to fools and angels. 
 
 In any case, the natural temerity of the amateur was, in 
 Ireland, intensified by the appreciation the natives are said 
 to have of themselves, this opinion being justified to a certain 
 extent by the success of their histrionic performance. The 
 native is, in fact, always acting ; at all times, and in every 
 social corner of Irish life, we find amateur stages set up, 
 lamps lit, and ladies and gentlemen busy with some sort of 
 public performance. History repeats itself, and when we 
 turn from the old faded newspaper that chronicles Lord 
 Mountjoy's theatricals to the Iriali Times of to-day, there is 
 the same complimentary notice to be found of pi-ivate 
 theatricals at Coolmore or Ardee, Belfast or Kilkenny. 
 The caste of " The Distressed Mother" was as follows : — 
 
 Hermione. — Miss Molesworth. 
 
 Andromaelie. — Miss Parker. 
 
 Pyrrhus. — Lord Mountjoy. 
 
 Orestes. — Honourable Mr. Barnewall (brother to Lord 
 Kingsland). 
 
 N.B, Every performer had twelve tickets to give away. 
 
 It could hardly be expected that so young a girl as Miss 
 Molesworth could have given eSect, comparatively, to a part 
 such as Hermione, in which Mrs, Wofiington and Baddeley 
 could melt their audience to tears. Mary was, however, 
 singularly thoughtful for her age, and much given to read- 
 ing and study ; moreover, her beauty and youth naturally 
 appealed to her audience, who were ready to excuse short- 
 comings in a girl so graceful and beautiful. On one of the 
 spectators she made a lasting impression. 
 
 Her admirer was Colonel Bochfort, afterwards created the 
 Earl of Belvedere. He was a man of fashion, and although 
 
6 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 he had recently married Miss Tenison, he made no secret of 
 his admiration for the lovely Hermione. That his admiration 
 was sincere was proved later, for his wife dying of small-pox 
 the year after their marriage, he, after a decent interval, 
 declared himself to be Miss Molesworth's devoted suitor, 
 and it wasn't likely that his suit would be rejected. The 
 Rochforts, or de Rupe-forti, were of old descent and highly 
 considered ; Rochfort sat in the Irish House of Commons as 
 member for Westmeath, where he had large property. He 
 was twenty-eight, handsome, more elegant in his manners 
 than Irish country gentlemen were at that period, as he 
 had spent much of his time about the Court, and was a 
 favourite with George the Second, who bestowed upon him 
 many proofs of favour. It seems strange that such a 
 man should have selected as a wife a mere girl like Mary 
 Molesworth, uneducated in the ways of the world where he 
 shone. One would have supposed that, like his prototype, 
 Chesterfield, he would have sought to please his royal master 
 by marrying one of the numerous royal offshoots. He was, 
 however, given to sudden impulses, and determined to trample 
 upon any obstacle that might stand in the way of his sudden 
 passion ; it was very unlikely that any obstacle would 
 present itself, Colonel Rochfort being a suitor most pleasing 
 in the eyes of the parents of his choice, who considered his 
 fortune and position a sufficient reason for accepting him as 
 their daughter's husband. 
 
 In the last century there was no " revolt of the daughters." 
 "Women, indeed, were of little account, and parents were 
 absolute disposers of their destiny. The times were rough, 
 and those who refused to obey the parental decree were soon 
 brought into subjection by stringent measures, and submitted, 
 as best they could, to the fate that lay before them ; so it 
 was with Mary. Her objections were overruled ; her nervous 
 dread of and evident dislike to her handsome lover were put 
 aside as ridiculous ; the preparations for the wedding were 
 made, and on August 1st, 1736, she was married to Colonel 
 Rochfort by Dean Delany — the second husband of Rochfort's 
 mother-in-law, Mrs. Tenison. 
 
Mary Molesworth, Countess of Belvedere. 7 
 
 From the first the marriage was not a happy one. Roch- 
 fort soon made the discovery that his wife did not reciprocate 
 his affection^ and that no tenderness on his part conld conquer 
 the shrinking fear she seemed to have of him. Spoiled 
 as he had been by the adulation of flatterers and the easy 
 conquest of women of fashion, his imperious temper could 
 not brook the coldness of Mary's nature. He gave way 
 to bursts of passion which terrified her so much that on one 
 occasion she fled to her father's house, to be sent back next 
 morning under the charge of a trusty servant. 
 
 The year after the marriage Colonel Rochfort was raised to 
 the peerage, with the title of Baron Belfield (later on he was 
 made Earl of Belvedere). This honour, which gave him 
 great satisfaction, increased his desire to have an heir to his 
 new dignity. When the first child was born, and proved to 
 be a daughter, his rage and disappointment were vented 
 upon Mary, whose timid nature was terrified at his violence. 
 Fortunately, the next year a son was born. This event was 
 made the occasion of magnificent rejoicings ; the country, far 
 and near, was blazing with bonfires ; oxen were roasted and 
 barrels of whisky drank ; the king was godfather, and the 
 boy was christened after him, George Augustus. 
 
 The gratification of his wishes revived all Rochfort's love 
 for his young wife, and had she known how to adapt herself 
 to circumstances, or, in other words, had she been taught 
 any idea of her duty to the man to whom she had sworn 
 to be faithful, her painful story would not have been 
 made the subject of different romances. Romances they 
 may truly be called, for although there is some truth in the 
 story first given to the world in Chambers' Journal, and 
 copied by later writers, a close examination goes to prove 
 there is much exaggeration and distortion of the actual facts. 
 
 No two people could have been less suited to one another 
 than the tempestuous, irascible Rochfort, and his timid, cold, 
 unloving wife, whose heart was entirely given to another — 
 and that other her husband's brother, Arthur Rochfort,' 
 
 * Arthur Eochfort married Sarah, daughter to the Reverend Eowland 
 Singleton of Drogheda. 
 
8 Some Celebrated Irish Bemities of Last Century. 
 
 already foi' many years married, the father of a large family, 
 and of exemplary character, until, as Walpole says, "he 
 looked upon this woman and thought her fair." 
 
 The Arthur Eochforts lived at Eochfort House, close to 
 Gaulstown, Lord Belvedere^s seat in Westmeath, and here the 
 intimacy between the guilty pair began, a constant intercourse 
 being kept up between the two families without exciting 
 any comment. Lord Belvedere suspected nothing, he lived a 
 great deal away, for not having much happiness at home he 
 returned to the society of his gay friends in London, and it 
 was said neglected bis wife. It was in 1742 that his suspicions 
 were for the first time aroused. A packet of letters ^ was 
 brought to him by a woman with whom he had been intimate 
 before his marriage, and who was supposed to owe Mary 
 a grudge. The letters were however genuine, they were 
 written under feigned names, and were passionate love letters. 
 Lord Belvedere accused his wife, who found some means of 
 informing her paramour, who fled precipitately and without 
 making any defence. Lord Belvedere followed him to London. 
 Mrs. Delany, who was connected with the Eochforts, saw 
 him on March 10th, 1743, and writes to her sister of his 
 unfortunate story, and that he had come to London to search 
 for his brother and to kill him, wherever he might meet him. 
 " But I hope," she adds, '' his resentment will cool, and not 
 provoke him to so desperate an action ; and he does not 
 appear to have any rash design, but is more cheerful and com- 
 posed than one could expect him to be. He is very well bred 
 and very well in his person and manners. His wife is ex- 
 tremely handsome, and he is miserable enough to love her even 
 still. She has many personal accomplishments." 
 
 Lord Belvedere returned to Ireland without having found 
 his brother, who had taken refugee abroad, where his wife and 
 
 ^ " And what names, think you . . they chose ? " writes Walpole, who 
 considered there was a strong circumstance of Iriscis7)i over the whole 
 fracas. " Silvia and Philander, the very same that Lord Grey and his 
 sister-in-law took upon a parallel occasion, and which are printed in 
 their letters." (This was Forde, the infamous Lord Grey of Werke and 
 his sister-in-law, Lady Henrietta Berkeley). One would like to know 
 where Walpole detected the circumstance of Iriscism. 
 
Mary MoleswortJi^ Cotmtess of Belvedere. 9 
 
 family joiued him, and where he resided for fifteen years. 
 This circumstance perhaps precluded the possibility of getting 
 a divorce. Lady Belvedere remained in the hands of her 
 outraged husband, and her father, justly indignant at her 
 frailty, made no effort to interfere. Although Lord Belvedere 
 has been stigmatized as a cruel tyrant, it does not appear that 
 the punishment he inflicted on his erring wife was too severe, 
 when we take into account the provocation he had received, 
 
 LADY BELVELiERt:. 
 
 together with the stricter views then prevailing as to the 
 treatment of a wife's infidelity. 
 
 At the time of the discovery, he had just completed 
 building a new and handsome mansion, which was to super- 
 sede Gaulstown as the family seat. This is still known 
 by his name, although it has passed into other hands. 
 '* Belvedere " ^ being a favourite spot with all lovers of the 
 picturesque. 
 
 ' " Belvedere, now the property of Charles Brinsley Marlay, Esquire, is 
 
10 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 Here Lord Belvedere fixed his own residence and that of 
 his children and household ; in the old and gloomy man- 
 sion of Gaulstown he kept his wife shut up, deprived of all 
 intercourse with the outer world, and carefully watched by a 
 staff of trusty retainers. In all other respects she had every- 
 thing fitted to her station ; a carriage was kept for her use, but 
 never allowed to pass the boundaries of the Park ; she was 
 amply supplied with a good table and wardrobe, and allowed 
 to correspond with her own family, and occasionally her children 
 were sent to visit her. 
 
 The unfortunate lady was barely six-and-twenty when she 
 was thus cut off from all the enjoyments of life, and as month 
 followed month and year followed year with no break in the 
 dull monotony of existence we may imagine how dreary must 
 have been her lot. She was never visited by any of her own 
 family, who appear all through to have been convinced of her 
 guilt and sided with the injured husband. Her mother had 
 died without knowing the disgrace that had fallen upon her 
 daughter, and any association between Lady Belvedere and her 
 unmarried sisters would have been considered injurious to their 
 making suitable marriages. Two years after his wife's death 
 Lord Molesworth married again a lady young enough to be 
 his daughter ;' she made him, however, an admirable wife, and 
 Horace Walpole bears testimony to her engaging behaviour ; 
 
 situated near Mullingar, and between it and Eochfort House there is 
 still to be seen the artificial ruin of an old Abbey. The tradition that 
 this ruin had arisen out of a family feud is generally known, and that it 
 was built by one brother to exclude from his sight the I'esidence of the 
 other. Few are aware that the design originated with Lord Belvedere, 
 who went to enormous expense in its erection, bringing over an Italian 
 artist named Barrodotte to superintend the building." The fact would not 
 be worth mentioning only that it shows how deep was the feeling in Lord 
 Belvedere's mind as to the injury that had been done to him. — (ITrom the 
 Irish Builder of April, 1893.) 
 
 ' Mary Jenny Usher, daughter to the Archdeacon of Clonfert. She is 
 mentioned frequently in Mrs. Delany's autobiography, and was one of the 
 commerce table of absolute beauties. After Lord Molesworth's death she 
 resided in London, where, in 1763, she met a tragic death. Her house 
 in Brook Street taking fire, she and nine of her household perished in 
 the flames. This lamentable event caused a considerable sensation, and 
 is mentioned in all the papers and letters of the day. Lady Molesworth 
 was seen at one of the windows, trying to help her daughters to escape. 
 The horrified spectators saw the heroic lady fall back into the burning 
 
Mary Mole sworth^ Coimtess of Belvedere. ii 
 
 she was also very handsome. In accordance with her husband's 
 wish, she kept aloof from her unfortunate step-daughtei% who 
 was wearing her heart out in the monotonous seclusion of 
 Gaulstown. 
 
 Some tragic incidents are told which heighten the interest 
 of her story. The one desire of the unfortunate lady's heart 
 was to see her husband ; she imagined a personal interview 
 might revive the love he undoubtedly once felt for her. . . 
 Lord Belvedere, fearing his own weakness, was careful to avoid 
 a meeting which must be fraught with deep pain. One day, 
 however, when he was overlooking some alterations in the 
 park at Gaulstown, she forced herself into his presence, and, 
 falling at his feet, implored not so much pity as justice. Lord 
 Belvedere was softened, he hesitated, he was affected, and 
 would probably have yielded, only for the presence of a third 
 person who was decidedly adverse to Lady Belvedere, This 
 marplot cried in a voice of warning, " My Lord, remember 
 your honour," and dragged him away. 
 
 Another romantic incident was Lady Belvedere's escape 
 from her prison to her father's house in Dublin. Under any 
 circumstances it would have been doubtful whether Lord 
 Molesworth would have received her, but it happened that her 
 flight had been discovered sooner than she had calculated, and 
 Lord Belvedere, losing no time, arrived in Dublin before her, 
 and so worked upon Lord Molesworth's feelings, that when 
 the wretched woman reached her father's house she was 
 refused admission, and, as she turned away was seized, forced 
 into a post-chaise that stood waiting, and ignominiously 
 brought back to Gaulstown. 
 
 Lady Belvedere did not improve her lot by this attempt to 
 obtain her freedom. Her attendants were changed and she 
 was treated with more severity, no longer being allowed to see 
 
 mass; her eldest daughter also perished, as did her brother, Captain Usher 
 The three remaining daughters, who had jumped from the windows with 
 the help of their mother, were terribly injured. One was caught on the 
 railings and tore her thigh so terribly that the Umb had to be cut off ; 
 the other broke her leg. Horace Walpole is full of pity for these young 
 creatures. " Lady Grosvenor has taken them into her house. The one 
 whose leg is cut off has been kept for days intoxicated with laudanum ; 
 she knows nothing of what has happened to her." 
 
12 Some Celebrated h'ish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 lier children. The narrator of her story, says this incident 
 occurred twelve years after her imprisonment, but a considera- 
 tion of the case would lead one to think that it must have taken 
 place later, and was consequent upon the trial of Mr. Rochfort. 
 This gentleman, who had remained abroad sixteen years, 
 returned to Ireland in 1757, imagining that time would have 
 cooled his brother's anger, and that he would be content to 
 let, as the saying goes, sleeping dogs lie. In any case he was 
 so weary of his exile, that he preferred to take the chance of 
 a trial, and refused Lord Belvedere's proposal that he should 
 return abroad, in which case the matter should drop. The trial 
 came on on May 12th, Dean Delany was one of the witnesses. 
 The facts proved beyond all doubt the guilt of the pair, and 
 the damages were assessed at twenty thousand pounds, which 
 Mr. Rochfort not being able to pay, he was imprisoned in the 
 debtors' prison ; a '' fate he well deserves," says Mrs. Delany. 
 
 On a man of Lord Belvedere's haughty nature this public 
 exposure of his wrongs had the worst effect. It revived his 
 jealousy, roused his fury against his wife, and as she was in 
 his power, he, in an ungenerous manner, wreaked his vengeance 
 upon her. What advantage could be expected in retaining 
 his prisoner after the trial is not plain. For thirteen long 
 years the miserable woman had to endure her punishment, 
 for it was not until 1772 that the death of Lord Belvedere 
 gave her her release. During these years her father had died 
 without seeing her ; her son had married, she herself had become 
 a wreck, her features haggard, her hair white ; her face wore 
 a wild, scared look, and her voice had sunk almost to a 
 whisper. She was dressed in the fashion of the day at the 
 time she quitted the world thirty years before. 
 
 No sooner was Lord Belvedere's funeral over than her 
 sons hastened to Gaulstown, where a most affecting interview 
 took place. She hardly recognized them. For the rest of 
 her life the unhappy lady was surrounded with care and 
 affection. Her children (especially her daughter, who had 
 married the Earl of Lanesborough ^) showed her every atten- 
 
 ' Lady Lanesboi'ough had not the best reputation. She lived 
 mostly abroad, with her second husband, Mr. King. 
 
Mary Moiesworth, Countess of Belvedere. 13 
 
 tion. They could not, however, minister to a mind diseased ; 
 Lady Belvedere had lived too long in solitude to be able 
 now, in her old age, to take up again the threads of life which 
 had been so rudely broken. Her strange story was always 
 before her. It was the Nemesis of her existence — pursuing 
 her. She dreaded publicity and shrank from notice ; while 
 to her dying hour she declared her innocence. She, however, 
 appeared to be always oppressed with remorse. 
 
 The latter portion of her life was spent at Belvedere 
 House,^ the magnificent mansion built by her son, the second 
 Earl of Belvedere. 
 
 ' Belvedere House was sold in 1843 to the Kev. Patrick Meagher, 
 S.J., who converted it into a college. It is now a junior college for 
 youth under the care of the learned Society of Jesus. The following 
 account of the sale may be .interesting : — 
 
 " Belvedere House was sold for a sum under 1800Z. — which included 
 an organ built in Germany, valued at 400 guineas, and a set of valuable 
 mahogany bookcases, the entire length of one of the principal rooms, 
 value about 200/., with other less important matters — subject to a head 
 rent of about 35/. per annum ; the purchase-money of the house may 
 therefore be taken at about 1200Z. at most. 
 
 " The house was magnificently designed. The three principal rooms 
 on the drawing-room floor being dedicated to Venus, Diana, and 
 Apollo, the ornamental architecture of each room is elaborately de- 
 scriptive of the supposed attributes of each of the deities ; and the 
 entire suite communicate by folding-doors — thus throwing the three 
 splendid apartments into one. The grand staircase is also tastefully 
 designed; the carving on either side, together with the stucco-work, 
 being in keeping with the rich ornamental work of the apartments 
 just described. 
 
ELEANOR AMBROSE, " THE DANGEROUS PAPIST/' 
 
 In the story of Eleanor Ambrose we come face to face with 
 one of those phases of society alluded to in the introduction, 
 with which English readers are only superficially acquainted. 
 I do not mean to say they are ignorant of the religious 
 strife that existed between the Protestant minority and the 
 Catholic majority, but that the results produced by this inter- 
 necine warfare are understood by outsiders may fairly be 
 doubted ; or that any one, save the Irish themselves, compre- 
 hends the real significance of the two designations Orange 
 and Papist. 
 
 The evils of the long-continued civil Avar, and the 
 oppression which had followed upon James the Second's 
 disastrous campaign, had left traces all over the country. 
 The so-called Orange party, although not so rampant as in 
 the first moment of victory, still trampled upon the rights 
 of the Papists. The statue of the great champion of Pro- 
 testantism stood in College Green, the principal thoroughfare 
 of Dublin.' Here high festival was kept on the anniversaiy 
 of the Battle of the Boyne, the Viceroy and magistrates of the 
 city parading round the efiigy in procession and a salute being 
 tired in its honour.^ 
 
 ^ Where raised on higli equestrian William shows 
 In warlike majesty his Roman nose. 
 - This custom was continued far into this century. Thackeray could 
 have gladly seen our generations of royal Georges in effigy abolished, 
 but would have spared William III. in College Green. He was right, 
 for a portion of the history and life of Dublin has gathered around his 
 leaden majesty. Each year, from 1701 onward for more than a century, 
 on the anniversary of William's birthday, the Lord Lieutenant, the Lord 
 Mayor and aldermen, the Lord Chancellor and judges, the provost of 
 Trinity College and other notabilities paraded thrice around the statue, 
 
Eleanor Ambrose, " the Dangerous Papist.'" 15 
 
 Woe betide any unfortunate Koman Catholic who was re- 
 calcitrant enough not to take off his hat in passing the bronze 
 presentment of the great and glorious William of immortal 
 memory — he had to pay for his contumacy by seven days 
 of bread and water in a very dirty cell in Newgate. The 
 penal laws^ although not always acted upon, were still in 
 force, the existence of which, Mr. Lecky says, "rendered 
 absolutely impossible in Ireland the formation of that habit 
 of instructive and unreasoning reverence for law which is 
 one of the most essential conditions of English civiliza- 
 tion, and which,*' he adds, " by alienating the people from 
 the Government, made the ecclesiastical organization to 
 which they belonged the real centre of their affections and 
 enthusiasm." ' 
 
 trying to look grave, so to do honour to the " pious, glorious, and im- 
 mortal memory." Many of the college lads were Jacobites, and some- 
 times the gray of morning would discover two figures astride of the 
 leaden horse — one the hero of the Boyne, dressed up with hay, the other 
 a man of straw, leaning limp against the hero's shoulders. The 
 volunteers would muster and bang off their cannons and blaze their /e« 
 de joie around the statue. King William survived the insults and 
 defied the assaults of his enemies until a fatal night of A^jril, 1836. A 
 mysterious light was observed that night in his neighbourhood and 
 presently there followed a deafening explosion ; the king flew high in 
 the air as if through some violent apotheosis, then fell, a shattered 
 bulk of royalty, and lay flat, ignominiously indifferent to poj^ery, pre- 
 lacy, brass money, and wooden shoes. In the morning they carted the 
 hody to a police office, and held an inquest ; physicians discovered an 
 envious punctui'e between hip and saddle-skirt. Irish criminals have 
 been restored to life after their execution by judicious blood-letting 
 from the jugular vein. The grand monarch by this or some other 
 device was revivified. His mangled limbs were made straight, his 
 Roman nose was set, and when Thackeray pleaded in his behalf, my 
 Lord Mayor, Daniel O'Connell, had the king under a canvas and was 
 painting him of a bright green picked out with yellow — his lordship's 
 own livery. — (From Mr. Dowden's " Dublin City,'' published in 
 Scribner's Magazine, December, 1884) 
 
 ' The ill-feeling was cultivated assiduously by the advance guard 
 of both parties. The toasts at a social or public dinner were of such a 
 character that no Catholic could, with any respect for himself, be present. 
 ''To H with the Pope !" " Down with the Papist curs ! " "No sur- 
 render! " were favourites ;it most convivial meetings, while Libellero or 
 the Protestant boys evoked a storm of applause. On the other side was 
 equal intolerance, and a secret and deadly hatred to the Orange faction. 
 This last, however, was not regularly organized until 1795, and the 
 Orange lodges had their rise in the following lamentable incident : — 
 
 In these excited times skirm.ishes were constant between what was 
 called the Defenders (i.e., the Protestants) and the Peep-o'-day boys 
 
1 6 Some Celebrated frisk Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 In 1744 the traces of civil war, says Mr. Lecky, still 
 lingered. The statue of William the Fourth adorned the 
 principal thoroughfare ; the toast of the glorious, pious, and 
 immortal memory was given at every public banquet ; the 
 walls of the House of Lords displayed the pictures of the 
 Battle of the Boyne, and Roman Catholics were still rigidly 
 proscribed. They could hold no land either by purchase or 
 right of succession, unless, as was often the case, some 
 member of the family conformed,^ as it was called, to the 
 Established Church. Neither could a Papist take a long or 
 valuable lease, nor was he eligible for any office of dignity 
 or emolument — he could not practise any of the professions, 
 except medicine, and he was not allowed to enter Parliament 
 — this restriction going so far as to prohibit his having a 
 seat in the gallery as a spectator of the proceedings. No 
 career of any dignity or importance was therefore open to 
 the sons of a Catholic gentleman, unless they either went 
 abroad and took service in the French or Spanish army or 
 entered into business ; but there the choice was limited, and 
 became more so as time went on. Meantime, in the country 
 parts, the condition of affairs was still worse. Swift's account 
 of the Irish gentry, " that every squire almost to a man is an 
 oppressor and racker, a jobber of publick works, very proud 
 and generally illiterate,'' seems to have been a fair picture 
 
 (Catholics mostly). Some lives being lost in an encounter near Armagh 
 a truce was agreed upon, but in twenty-four hours it was broken by the 
 Catholics who fired upon a Protestant gentleman who was a surety, 
 and after this 700 of the boys entered and sacked the lonely village of 
 " the Diamond.'' The tocsin was at once sounded and the Protestant 
 contingent flocked in from all quarters. A pitched battle ensued on 
 September 21st, 1795. The trooj^s from Armagh were sent to disperse 
 the combatants, and so the matter ended. Out of this affair arose the 
 organization of the Orange lodges, the first being instituted either on 
 the field or immediately after. These lodges played a great part in the 
 subsequent disastrous history of Ireland. They still exist, but in a 
 most modified degree. 
 
 * The practice of " some member of a Catholic family conforming," 
 in order to obtain possession of the family property, was general 
 enough. A story is told of two brothers, of whom the elder offered 
 to conform, but was too late, his brother having done so the previous 
 day. In many instances property was preserved to the Catholic 
 families by their Protestant neighbours, who held it in trust until 
 better times came, when they loyally surrendered the estate. 
 
Eleanor Ambrose, " the Dangeroits Papist T 17 
 
 of the men of his clay who spent their time hunting, shooting 
 and drinking hard, having no sense of duty to the unfortunate 
 peasantry, who lived in a state of abject poverty unparalleled 
 in Europe. 
 
 Such was the state of Ireland when, in 1744, Lord Chester- 
 field was sent over to try, by means of his " silver tongue " 
 and urbane manners, to reconcile the different parties who 
 were tearing one another to pieces in the little island. 
 Philip Dormer Stanhope, fourth Earl of Chesterfield, filled 
 a larger place in the time in which he lived than almost any 
 of his contemporaries. He was a statesman, a diplomatist, 
 and an author • besides these distinctions, his talent for con- 
 versation and powers of repartee gave him singular attractions 
 in society. At one period he was the most admired and run- 
 after man in London, and despite that he was " unlovely in his 
 person " he found the greatest favour with women. The re- 
 verse of the picture is that he was in all respects more showy 
 than solid — he was a gambler, a bad husband, a scofier at all 
 religion, profligate in his habits, heartless and unfeeling, and 
 a very doubtful politician.^ The character of Chesterfield is 
 generally judged by his letters to his illegitimate son, which 
 furnish the most extraordinary instance on record of a man 
 displaying to the world his own want of moral principle. He 
 was, in fact, the production of the time in which he lived. 
 He was the representative of those men of the world who made 
 manners serve for morals, and it may be said of him that he 
 never affronted any code of society ; his desire to excel others 
 was the strongest passion he possessed. According to his own 
 confession he wished to stand first amongst men of pleasure. 
 " I always hated hard drinking," he says : " and yet I have 
 drunk, with disgust, only because I considered drinking a 
 necessity for a fine gentleman." With all his faults his vice- 
 
 ^ He married, in 1733, Melusina Schulenburg, Countess of Walsing- 
 ham, the daughter of George I. and the Duchess of Kendal. Mehisina 
 had been in her girlhood a dark beauty; she was however not in her 
 first youth when Chesterfield married her. She was one of the King's 
 favourite children, and he left her a large fortune, of which, however, 
 George II. would only pay twenty thousand pounds, and that only on 
 the threat of the royal will being prodiiced. 
 
 C 
 
1 8 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 royalty in Ireland was eminently successful. He displayed 
 much earnestness in dealing with the country, and studied the 
 conditions of Irish life with more than ordinary care, doing his 
 utmost to improve and civilize all classes. He has left upon 
 record his opinion that the peasants only needed kind usage 
 and the Gavel Act to be the most contented peasantry. In 
 Dublin, where he resided constantly, he gathered round him all 
 the wealth and talent of the country, and the elegance of his 
 tastes, the refinement of his manners, soon had their effect 
 upon the nobility and gentry who, up to the time of his coming 
 amongst them, had cared little for the more refined luxuries to 
 which their position entitled them. They lived anywhere, 
 anyhow. 
 
 The English visitors and tourists give a lamentable ac- 
 count of the want of refinement amongst persons even of the 
 highest position, and of the rough manner in which they lived. 
 Arthur Young, whose tour through Ireland is a faithful tran- 
 script of the manners and customs of the day, tells us that in 
 winter, when the Parliament season was going on, there was 
 an amount of gaiety in Dublin that exceeded London. Balls, 
 dinners, concerts almost every night ; there was, however, he 
 says, a total lack of decency in the way of living, even in families 
 of the highest position.' " The tables indeed groaned with 
 abundance, but there was neither order nor good taste in the 
 establishments ; dinner was at an early hour, and the claret " 
 and whisky flowed till all hours of the morning. Furious 
 quarrels, ending in duels, were frequent, and were sometimes 
 
 ^ It is amusing to take a peep into an etiquette book of the period — 
 or, as it is called, "Hints to introduce Decorum at City Feasts and 
 Sunday Ordinaries in Dublin.'' From this useful little work we learn 
 that our grandfathers committed many a solecism against our present 
 code of manners ; but then, good Lord ! they were twice the men we are, 
 look at the appetites they had. Fancy being told " not to heap more 
 than two pounds of victuals on your plate at starti»r/ ! Not to be too 
 eager to have the first cut. Not to drag the leg of a fowl through your 
 teeth in order to secure your property in it, and then lay it by to pick 
 at your leisure. To remember also that although fingers were made 
 before forks, the latter were substituted for the sake of cleanliness. 
 Not to throw the scraps off your plate into the dish." 
 
 - There was more Burgundy drunk in Dublin in a week than in 
 London in a month. 
 
Eleanor Ambrose^ *' the Dangerous Papist!' 19 
 
 inflamed by religious or political animosity when in a mixed 
 company some drunken Squire, laying his pistol cocked upon 
 the table, gave the toast of the glorious, pious, and immortal 
 memory which would be the signal for a general riot. 
 
 Chesterfield^s genial influence did much to soften some of 
 this religious animosity. Unfortunately, the period of his 
 Viceroyalty was too short to be of any permanent use. During 
 his term of office, however, the condition of Catholics all over 
 the country was infinitely improved, and so marked was the 
 change that, during the stormy days of the Pretender, when 
 both England and Scotland were almost in open rebellion, 
 Ireland remained perfectly tranquil. When Chesterfield went 
 over to London, he told the King and his ministers that it was 
 poverty and not Popery that the country had to fear, adding 
 that for his part he had only found one dangerous Papist. 
 
 "■ Who ? What ? Where is he ? " asked the inquisitive 
 Monarch. 
 
 " She is a beautiful young lady," returned Chesterfield ; 
 " the brightness of her eyes and the charms of her conversa- 
 tion are indeed perilous." 
 
 In this wise did Eleanor Ambrose (for it was of her Lord 
 Chesterfield spoke) gain the sobriquet which will always 
 make her fame live in story. She was the daughter of Mr. 
 Michael Ambrose, who came of an old Catholic family, and 
 who, being a second son, and having no career open to him, 
 had gone into business as a brewer and was making a large 
 fortune. The disabilities under which the proscribed religion 
 suffered was felt even in social life, and Catholics were not 
 on the same footing in society as their Protestant neigh- 
 bours. Even those whose rank and position should have 
 entitled them to attend the Court, held aloof, either from a 
 feeling that their social status was not recognized, or because 
 their finances were so crippled by the burden of heavy taxes 
 that they could ill afford the necessary expenses. That Miss 
 Ambrose should be singled out as the belle, par excellence, of 
 the Viceregal Court, and be made the object of the Viceroy's 
 particular attentions, was a species of triumph to the Catholic 
 party, and it is highly probable (taking into consideration 
 c 2 
 
20 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Ceiitury. 
 
 the character of Chesterfield) that his attentions were 
 prompted quite as much by motives of policy as from admira- 
 tion of the young lady^s singular beauty. Eleanor^ on her 
 side, may have been put forward to obtain for her friends 
 some exemption from the grinding rule of the existing laws. 
 In this way we can account for an act which, at first sightj 
 looks somewhat like a surrender of the principles hitherto 
 advocated by herself and her family. I allude to her appear- 
 ance at the ball given by Chesterfield in commemoration of 
 the Battle of the Boyne, an anniversary which was kept by 
 her co-religionists in sackcloth and ashes.' Not only did she 
 lend her presence to the general rejoicing, but came wearing 
 the colours of the dominant party, the bodice of her dress, 
 according to the fashioh adopted by the Court ladies, being 
 ornamented with a profusion of orange lilies. 
 
 Chesterfield, whose acute and dangerous habit of reading 
 the motives of others, not all his good manners could keep 
 in check, addressed the fair traitress ^ in lines which showed 
 he was not deceived by this apparent loyalty : — 
 
 Tell me, Ambrose, where's the jest 
 Of wearing Orange on thy breast, 
 When nnderneath that bosom shows 
 The whiteness of the rebel rose P ■' 
 
 The young beauty must have felt rather disconcerted at 
 this sarcastic reminder that her wearing false colours did not 
 impose upon her admirer, who, for the rest, was as much 
 
 ^ The anniversary was kept with great honour. Early in the day the 
 Boyne Society, " according to their laudable and annual custom, would 
 march in decent and regular order to St. Catherine's Church, stopping 
 at the Mayoralty house to salute the Lord Mayor, who would join the 
 procession in his grand coach ; then they would stop at King William's 
 statue to give it the usual honoiirs. In the evening the Lord Mayor 
 and citizens of eminence dined in state at the Tholsel, and the city was 
 brilliantly illuminated with large wax candles. Besides these manifesta- 
 tions, meetings were held all over the country to celebrate the day, and 
 express thankfulness and remembrance of the wonderful deliver- 
 ance." 
 
 * Some versions differ as to "lovely traitress '' and " pretty Tory.'' 
 3 These lines are quoted by Murphy in his life of Garrick as having 
 been addressed to Mrs, Madden, the wife of Doctor Madden. This lady 
 who, like Miss Ambrose, was a Catholic, was one of the beauties and a 
 celebrated toast. 
 
Eleanor Ambrose, " the Dangerous Papist^ 21 
 
 attracted by the brightness of her intellect as by her 
 acknowledged beauty. 
 
 Eleanoi^'s conversation was distinguished by much real 
 cleverness, lighted up by witty sayings 'and quick repartee, a 
 gift which fascinated the fastidious Chesterfield. Stanhope, 
 " whose pencil never writ a dull line/' was more likely to be 
 captivated by intellectual than by mere personal charms. 
 The union of both was sufficiently rare to be perilously 
 attractive. Miss Ambrose seems to have been constantly in 
 the company of the Viceroy, and to have attended at all State 
 ceremonials such as the Government nights at the theatre, 
 which were brilliant displays. The performances then began 
 at five o'clock, and the Lord Mayor in his robes of office came 
 from dining at the Tholsel, accompanied by his marshal bear- 
 ing the sword of state, and the aldermen in their robes. 
 The boxes on this occasion were altogether filled by ladies of 
 rank, the pit being reserved for the gentlemen. The condi- 
 tion of the stage was, however, at a very low ebb, and it was 
 a custom for the bucks and bloods of the town to climb over 
 the spikes that separated the pit from the performers, and to 
 get on the stage, where they mixed with the actors in such a 
 manner as scarce to be distinguished from them. Sheridan, 
 who was manager of Smock Alley, had imported from the 
 London theatres more decency of behaviour, but his efforts to 
 enforce decorum were unavailing until an accident happened 
 which brought about a reform. This happened on a Govern- 
 ment night, when Lord Chesterfield was present. A young- 
 buck from Connaught who had been long plaguing the pretty 
 actress, George Ann Bellamy (later of notorious fame) with 
 his attentions, was on this particular evening quite tipsy, and 
 was so rude to the young lady as she went to her dressing- 
 room that neither she nor the other actresses would return to 
 the stage, A riot ensued, and this disturbance had the happy 
 efiect of banishing all intruders from coming on to the stage. 
 It is probable that Miss Ambrose was present on the evening 
 in question, as she was most certainly on other occasions, 
 where her beauty would receive the compliment of three 
 cheers and a " round of heels '^ from the gallery, a form of 
 
2 2 SoJiie Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 notoriety very usual and pleasing to the popular favoui'ite. 
 An amusing story, wliicli shows the Viceroy in a dififerent 
 lights is told of the well-known occasion when a deputation 
 from Drogheda waited on Chesterfield to offer him the freedom 
 of that town. Miss Ambrose, who was seated beside the 
 Viceroy, took a fancy to the gold casket in which the address 
 was contained, and playfully asked her admirer to give it to 
 her. 
 
 " Madam," replied the wily courtier, laying his jewelled 
 fingers on his heart, "you have already too much of my free- 
 dom." 
 
 This sounds very much like the unmeaning gallantry which 
 was the tone of the day ; high-flown compliments were looked 
 upon as the current coin of conversation, little value being 
 attached to them — still, we may be allowed to doubt the 
 prudence of such constant intercourse between a young and 
 lovely girl and a man so versed in all the arts that win a 
 woman's affections as was Chesterfield. In all this we cannot 
 help wondering how the young lady's friends allowed such an 
 intimacy to continue, knowing, as they must have done, the 
 reputation Lord Chesterfield had as a man of indifferent 
 morals, whose friendship and attentions were in the last 
 degree undesirable, not to say dangerous. Witness the case 
 of Lady Fanny Shirley, the beautiful daughter of Lord 
 Ferrers, who had sacrificed everything — position and reputa- 
 tion, and a good establishment to her love for the fascinating 
 Stanhope.' 
 
 Eleanor was not likely to risk her good name ; although 
 she was virtuously proud of her conquest she in all ways 
 
 1 Lord Chesterfield addressed tlie followincr lines to Lady Fanny, who 
 was ever after known as " the blooming fair " : — 
 When Fanny, blooming fair. 
 
 First caught my ravished sight, 
 Struck with her shape and air 
 
 I felt a strange delight. 
 Whilst eagerly I gazed, 
 
 Admiring every part 
 And every feature praised, 
 
 She stole into my heart. 
 
 Pope also addressed some complimentary verges to the beauty, 
 
Eleanor Ambrose, " the Dangerous Papist''' 23 
 
 jealously guarded her reputation, keeping well within the 
 limits of platonic friendship. Nor does she seem to have 
 aroused the jealousy of Lady Chesterfield, who, for the rest, 
 was pretty well accustomed to the wandering fancies of her 
 lord, who had ceased to care for her (if he ever had done so). 
 A quarter of a century had gone by since he had married her, 
 and whatever of beauty Melusina had once possessed, was a 
 thing of the past. She was now old and fat, and, in addition, 
 was subject to periodical attacks of St. Anthony's fire in her 
 face. She was, however, good natured, a lover of music and 
 of eating, but earnest in her desire to help her husband in his 
 eSbrt to conciliate the people over whom he ruled. She was 
 popular in her own way, and, when the weavers were in dis- 
 tress, gave balls, to which everyone was commanded to come 
 dressed in woven stuff or material ; this she likewise wore, 
 although it must have been unbecoming to one of her figure. 
 She was very intimate with Mrs Delany ^ and paid her visits 
 at Delville to inspect the japanning and shell work in which 
 the Dean's lady was such a proficient. Lord Chesterfield's 
 
 likening her to Minerva and Venus, and concluding with the following 
 lines, in which he supposes the lady to speak and address him : — 
 
 Come, if you'll be a quiet soul, 
 That dares tell neither truth nor lies, 
 I'll list you in the harmless roll 
 Of those that sing of these poor eyes. 
 Thomas Coke, Earl of Leicester (Lord Lovell) was one of Lady 
 Fanny's many admirers, and would have married her despite what the 
 world said of her relations with Chesterfield, but she would not listen to 
 him. " That foul fiend Chesterfield has bewitched her," wrote the un- 
 happy lover to his friend. Lord Essex; "and iinder pretence of serving 
 me has entirely defeated me, and is in full possession of the lady's soul." 
 Lady Fanny lived to repent the error of her ways. In her later 
 years she lived in great privacy at Twickenham ; she was a follower of 
 Whitfield, who, it is hoped, gave her consolation. Horace Walpolo 
 wrote some unkind verses about her in the Twickenham register : — 
 " Here Fanny, ever blooming fair, 
 Ejaculates the graceful prayer ; 
 And 'scaped from sense with nonsense smit 
 For Whitfield's cant leaves Sta7iho2Je's wit." 
 
 ^ It is somewhat singular that in Mrs. Delany's gossiping and very 
 delightful letters she never names Miss Ambrose, or makes any mention 
 of Lord Chesterfield's admiration for " the dangerous Papist." This may 
 be accountedf or by the line of demarcation already alluded to as existing 
 between the two religions. 
 
24 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 Viceroyalty came to an end in 1749. His term of office made 
 an epoch in the history of the country he had governed with 
 so much prudence, and his departure caused a universal feel- 
 ing- of sorrow. He had been in earnest in his efforts to im- 
 prove the condition of the unfortunate people^, and in return 
 he was beloved to a degree quite unparalleled. The beauti- 
 ful verses which were written in his praise more than twenty 
 years after he had returned to England show his memory dwelt 
 in the hearts of those he had tried to serve : — 
 
 " Cheered not with one benignant ray 
 Since Chesterfield's unclouded day ; 
 That day, to fond remembrance dear, 
 Still honoured by a grateful tear, 
 When first an happy people knew 
 From Stanhope's care what kings should do. 
 When last perhaps was clearly shown 
 The bright distinction of a throne." ' 
 
 Miss Ambrose must have shared in the general sorrow felt 
 for the departing Viceroy. She now, perhaps for the first 
 time, recognized that his attentions, which were so pleasing for 
 the moment, were evanescent as a puff of wind, and nothing 
 tangible remained to console her for the loss of her charm- 
 ing friend. It was altogether a mistake, as such friendships 
 always are. Her other admirers seemed coarse and vulgar in 
 
 ^ These verses appeared in Barratariana, and were by Henry Grattan. 
 Swift also has left on record an equally beautiful tribute to Lord Ches- 
 terfield's character : — 
 
 " Stanhope has gained one point of fame 
 To which I'll prove he has no claim. 
 Say they, his favors he extends 
 Without regard to place, or friends. 
 Notliing prevails with him but merit, 
 Nay, he'll dispense with merit, too. 
 When modest want can reach his view. 
 Meer prejudice — tis plain to see 
 No man takes sweeter bribes than he. 
 To clear the point from any doubt 
 A parable shall help me cut : 
 The noble Fulvia spurns at gain ; 
 Freely she heals the lover's pain ; 
 But surely you'll allow me this 
 That when she grants she shares the bliss. 
 So Stanhope in each generous action 
 Shares more than half the satisfaction." 
 
Eleanor Ambrose, " the Dangerous Papist ^ 25 
 
 contrast to the elegant Stanhope's refined wit and many 
 accomplisliments,' nor was she spared the malicious laugh of 
 jealous friends who had envied her the favour she had 
 enjoyed, and now took occasion to point out how foolish had 
 been such a loss of time. "Why, poor Eleanor was growing 
 an old maid ! " etc. etc. Eleanor was above such contemptible 
 taunts, although it would not be in female nature not to feel 
 them. Moreover, as long as her glass continued to tell a 
 flattering tale, she had no need to care, especially as lovers 
 continued unabated in their devotion. It was not, however, 
 until she had nearly reached her thirtieth year that she made 
 her selection. It was in 1751, the year when the lovely 
 Gunnings had burst upon the town, and by their youthful 
 charms distanced all competitors. Miss Ambrose must 
 indeed have felt herself dethroned. Her choice was never- 
 theless by no means of the sort vulgarly called jjis oiler, while 
 the manner in which the event is announced in the monthly 
 magazine is a testimony that she still was looked upon as a 
 reigning beauty : — 
 
 " The celebrated Miss Ambrose of this kingdom has, to the 
 much envied happiness of one, and the grief of thousands, 
 abdicated her maiden empire of beauty, and retreated to the 
 Temple of Hymen, Her husband is Roger Palmer, Esq., of 
 Castle Lacken, Co. Mayo.'^ 
 
 The remaining portion of the life of " the dangerous Papist," 
 has little of general interest. We hear of her occasionally as 
 visiting Bristol hot-wells to drink the waters, and if we 
 choose, we can imagine that she visited London and saw her 
 former admirer, and obtained through his influence, the 
 baronetcy which was conferred upon her husband in 1777. 
 
 ^ Chesterfield showed the best side of his character during bis all too 
 short viceroyalty ; he was accused of being hollow in his profession of 
 wishing to serve the country, but his acts show that he was at all events 
 in some instances sincere. He got a grant of five hundred pounds for 
 the Royal Dublin Society. Sheridan, who was one of his accusers, used 
 to tell a story of how, when he was in Ireland, the courtly Viceroy feigned 
 a desire to institute an academy, but that when some years later he 
 waited upon him in London he had forgotten all about it. On the other 
 hand, his letters to Faulkner the printer are evidence that for many 
 years he continued to interest himself in the prosperity of Ireland. 
 
26 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 She had a long life, and in her old age (she lived to be ninety- 
 eight) could talk to her grandchildren of all the splendours 
 she had seen in her early youth. She knew enough of this 
 world^s history. '^ Queen Anne was only six years dead when 
 she was born, and Queen Victoria came into the world the 
 same year that Lady Palmer died. Sir Robert Walpole, 
 Chatham, Voltaire, Burke, Fox, Grattan, Goldsmith, Johnson, 
 Canning, Peel, and O'Connell were among her contemporaries. 
 She was in her teens when Pope was writing his " Moral 
 Essays,'^ and she lived to know personally, Byron and Moore. 
 Chesterfield died nearly half a century before her, and she 
 survived to see twenty-seven Viceroys after him, holding their 
 state in the Castle of Dublin. The fair faces that had been 
 eclipsed by her surpassing loveliness, the gallant beaux that 
 had fluttered round her — all had long gone to their last home; 
 and three generations of their descendants had passed through 
 the Vice-Regal drawing-rooms." ^ In her extreme old age 
 Shiel paid her a visit, and has left so sparkling a description 
 of " the dangerous Papist " in the last year of her life, that I 
 cannot resist giving it here as a suitable conclusion to this 
 passing notice of one of Ireland's most memorable Court 
 beauties. 
 
 " The admiration which Lord Chesterfield is known to have 
 entertained for this lady induced me," says Shiel, " to seek an 
 introduction to her. Although rich, she occupied a small 
 lodging in Henry Street, where she lived, secluded and alone. 
 Over the chimney-piece of the front drawing-room was 
 suspended the picture of her Platonic idolater. It was a half- 
 length portrait and had, I believe, been given to her by the 
 man of whose adoration she was virtuously vain. I was 
 engaged looking at this picture while I waited, on the day of 
 my introduction, for this pristine beauty of the Irish Court. 
 While I gazed upon the picture of a man who united so many 
 accomplishments of manner and of mind, and observed the 
 fine intellectual smile which the painter had succeeded in 
 stealing upon animated canvas, I fell into a somewhat imagina- 
 
 ' Burlve's Vicissitudes of Families. 
 
BOSTON COLLEGE LIBRARY 
 
 CHESTNUT IT^LT, MASS. 
 Eleanor Ambrose^ " the Dangerous Papist P 27 
 
 tive train of thouglit, and asked myself what sort of a woman 
 'the dangerous Papist' must have been, in whom the Master of 
 the Graces found such enchanting peril. * What a charm,' I 
 said, ' must she have possessed, upon whose face and form 
 those bright eyes reposed in illuminated sweetness — how soft 
 and magical must have been the voice, on whose whispers 
 those lips have hung so often — what gracefulness of 
 mind, what an easy dignity of deportment, what elegance of 
 movement, what sweet vivacity of expression, how much 
 polished gaiety and bewitching sentiment must have been 
 united.' I had formed to myself an ideal image of the young, 
 the soft, the fresh, the beautiful, the tender girl, who had 
 fascinated the magician of so many spells. The picture was 
 complete. The castle in its quondam lustre rose before me, 
 and I almost saw my Lord Chesterfield conducting Lady 
 Palmer through the movements of a minuet, when the door 
 was slowly opened, and in the midst of a volume of smoke, 
 which during my phantasmagoric imaginations had not in- 
 appropriately filled the room, I beheld, in her own proper 
 person, the being in whose ideal creation I had indulged in a 
 sort of Pygmalion dream. The opening of the door produced 
 a rush of air which caused the smoke to. spread out in huge 
 wreaths about her, and a weird and withered form stood in 
 the midst of the dispersing vapour. She fixed on me a wild 
 and sorceress eye, the expression of which was aided by her 
 attitude, by her black attire, her elongated neck, her marked, 
 and strongly moulded, but emaciated features. She leaned 
 with her long arm and her withered hand of discoloured 
 parchment upon an ivory-headed cane, while she stretched 
 forth her interrogating face, and with a smile, not free from 
 ghastliness, inquired my name. I mentioned it ; and her 
 expression, as she had been informed I was to visit her, 
 immediately changed. After the ordinary formulas of 
 civility, she placed herself in a huge chair, and entered at 
 once into politics. She was a most vehement Catholic, and 
 was just the sort of person that Sir Harcourt Lees would have 
 ducked for a rebel and a witch. Lord Fingall and the 
 Catholic question were the only subjects in which she seemed 
 
28 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 to take any interest. Upon the wrongs done to lier country 
 she spoke not only with energy, but with eloquence ; and 
 with every pinch of snuff, poured out a sentence of sedition, 
 ' S'death, sir, it is not to be borne ! ' she used to exclaim, 
 as she lifted her figure from the stoop of age, with her eyes 
 flashing with fire, and struck her cane violently on the ground. 
 Wishing to turn the convei'satiou to more interesting matter, 
 I told her I was not surprised at Lord Chesterfield's having 
 called her 'a dangerous Papist.'. I had touched a chord 
 which, though slackened, was not wholly unstrung. The 
 patriot relapsed into the woman, and passing at once from her 
 former look and attitude, she leaned back on her chair, and 
 drawing her withered hands together, while her arms fell 
 loosely and languidly before her, she looked up at the picture 
 of Lord Chesterfield with a melancholy smile. ' Ah,' she said 
 — But I have extended this note beyond all reasonable com- 
 pass. I think it right to add after so much mention of Lady 
 Palmer, that although she was vain of the admiration of Lord 
 Chesterfield, she took care never to lose his esteem, and that 
 her reputation was without a blemish." 
 
 The writer of the present memoir remembers seeing some 
 twenty years ago, at a portrait exhibition held in Dublin, ^ 
 a picture of Miss Ambrose in pastel. It was a face to 
 haunt the memory; a patrician style of beauty, with long 
 seductive eyes, dazzling complexion, and espiegle expression. 
 The lips parted in a half mocking smile — one might almost 
 fancy she was about to give expression to some of the bright 
 repartees which delighted Chesterfield. This picture was in 
 the possession of a descendant of the Ambrose family. More 
 O'Ferrall of Ballina, Co. Kildare. A fire took place there a 
 few years ago, in which several valuable pictures were burned, 
 amongst them the portrait of Miss Ambrose. The present 
 owner of Ballina, Mr. Ambrose More O'Ferrall, is of opinion 
 that no portrait of the once famous beauty is in existence. 
 This opinion is confirmed by Mr. Traynor of Essex Quay, 
 Dublin, through whose hands most of the best engravings in 
 Ireland have passed. 
 
 ' The National Portrait Exhibition, 1872. 
 
Eleanor Ambrose, " the Dangerous PapistT 29 
 
 Beauty, however, is an inheritance. Sometimes, with a 
 sort of caprice very unfair to those who are nearest in descent, 
 it skips a generation, and appears in a great grand-daughter, 
 or grand-niece, who will present a curious reproduction of 
 some bygone belle. In this way the families of Seagrave, 
 Higgins-Brabazon and Campbell at different times and in 
 greater or less degrees, have proved their claim to a share of 
 the beauty bequeathed to them by '^ the dangerous Papist." 
 
THE CUNNINGS. 
 
 Who has not heard of tho two Irish <^irls who, less than 
 150 years aj^o, crossed tho Cliannel which divides the sister 
 countries, and came to seek their fortunes^ with only their 
 lovely faces pour tout potage. Tho surpassing beauty of tho 
 two sisters has become matter of history, nor is there a parallel 
 instance of mere beauty exciting- so extraordinary a sensation 
 as that produced by these portionless girls. 
 
 Horace Walpolo, writing his usual chronicle to his friend, 
 Sir Horace Mann, at Florence, first mentions the Gunnings in 
 1761, in these words: — 
 
 " The Gunning girls have no fortune and are scarce gentle- 
 women, but by their mother (she was the Honourable 
 Bridget Bourke, third daughter to Theobald, sixth Viscount 
 Mayo) the Bourkcs," he adds, "have Plantagonet blood 
 enough to compensate for tho inferior tap of the Gunnings." 
 
 In making this statement, the cynic of Strawberry Hill 
 wrote with that reckless disregard of actual facts which marks 
 many of his stories, delightful as they are. Far from being of 
 " an inferior tap,^' Mr. Gunning was the equal of his wife in 
 good birth. Tho Gonninges of Tregonning, an ancient Cornish 
 family, had a long look back, and in common with most old 
 families, their branches spread octopus-like in different 
 directions. 
 
 There were Gunnings of Langridge, of Swanwickc, 
 Tregarthyn, Trendsburg, and Ashe near Meopham. 
 
 The Gunnings in whom we are interested, descended 
 originally from tlie Gunnings of Ashe, one of whom settled in 
 Kent in the time of Henry VIII., and acquired large estates. 
 
The Gunnings. 31 
 
 situated in the Lath of Shepnay. The family scat was called 
 Gunnings Brook. From this pleasant dwelling-place they 
 were driven, by the persecutions Queen Mary instituted 
 against her Protestant subjects ; the Gunnings of Ashe, at 
 this time, returned to their original quarters at Meopham. 
 
 In Elizabeth's reign, however, we find Peter Gunning com- 
 fortably established as Vicar of Hoo and Gravesend, in Kent. 
 Of his two sons, Peter, the elder, likewise entered the Church, 
 where he had a brilliant, although somewhat chequered, 
 career. Beginning life as tutor to Lord Hatton, he made 
 his way to high posts, being a man of learning and of 
 uncompromising character. He had been presented to a 
 prebend in Canterbury Cathedral and made Bishop of 
 Chichester, when it was demanded of him that he should sign 
 the Covenant. Sooner than go against his conscience he re- 
 fused, and lost all his benefices, which, however, were restored 
 to him under Charles II., with the additional honours of Chan- 
 cellor of Oxford and Bishop of Ely. He never married, and 
 seems to have been possessed of considerable wealth. He made 
 no less than seven or eight wills,^ with numberless codicils. 
 
 His brother Kichard, who was the immediate ancestor of the 
 Irish branch of Gunnings, was a soldier of fortune, and came 
 to Ireland in the early part of the reign of Charles I., when 
 the Irish plantation, as it was called, was still in full swing. 
 Sir Charles Coote, who had done great service in subduing 
 the rebellion led by Tyrone, had been granted large posses- 
 sions in Connaught, which he divided amongst his followers ; 
 Eichard Gunning received a good slice of land close to the 
 Castle of Coote, which Sir Charles, who was Provost Marshal, 
 had erected to protect his property and to be a defence against 
 the constant raids made upon the English settlers by the 
 natives. Under these circumstances the Governor's hands 
 needed to be strengthened by faithful adherents close by. 
 The Castle of Coote, and that of Athleaarue, which was held 
 
 * The bishop's last will was made at Ely House, Holborn. He left 
 200?. foi' paving the " ciidrc " of the church with marble stone. He is 
 buried in Ely Cathedral. He was born 1613 — died 1680. (For Peter the 
 Bishop and Sir Kobert Gunning, see Appendix.) 
 
^2 Some Celebrated Irish Bemtties of Last Century. 
 
 by Richard Gunning, stood several sieges led by Con O'Rorke 
 and John Burke, nicknamed Shane O'Tlevij ; the settlers 
 occupying the lauds of the natives may be said to have held 
 their lives in the hollow of their hands, living as they did in 
 a wild, desolate region, surrounded with tracts of moor and 
 bog where the miserable peasants, who had been driven from 
 their homes, found shelter and revenged their wrongs by 
 every species of outrage, the lawlessness of the district giving 
 rise to the saying '' to Hell or Connaught/' 
 
 Richard Gunning did his part manfully in helping Sir 
 Charles to repel the attacks of the aborigines. Athleague 
 Castle, which he held for many years, was constantly the 
 scene of hard fighting, but, by degrees, more peaceful times 
 succeeded to these stormy days. As years went on, Richard 
 seems to have taken kindly to his adopted country. Like 
 many of the English settlers, he grew more Irish than the 
 Irish themselves. He married an Irish lady, by whom he 
 had several strong sons and handsome daughters, and before 
 his death he had begun the house which later on became the 
 family residence, and where a distant branch of the family is 
 now living. 
 
 In the succeeding generation we find the same conditions 
 repeating themselves until we come to Bryan Gunning, who 
 more nearly approaches our heroines. He married Miss 
 Catherine Gerathy — not an euphonious name albeit intensely 
 Celtic. I am not at all sure whether the Gerathy s were chief- 
 tains ; at any rate, they were of a large clan, and their nation- 
 ality can never be one moment in dispute.^ 
 
 * In the church at Roscommon there is a monument erected to Mr. 
 and Mrs. Gunning, with the following epitaph : — 
 P.M.S. 
 Here lyes interred the Bodye's of Bryan Gunning, Eqre., of Castle 
 Coote, and Katherine Gunning alias Gerathy, his only wife. 
 They were happily joyn'd together in life 
 Nor were they long divided in Death ; 
 She dejjarted this life 13th November, 1715, 
 He departed this life 22nd January, 1717, 
 They were the parents of sixteen children, 
 
 Of which nnmher 
 Five sons and five daughters survive 
 To bewaile the loss of their affectionate care and tender love. 
 
The Gunnings. 33 
 
 Mrs. Gunning presented her affectionate husband with no 
 less than sixteen pledges of their mutual affection. Of this 
 patriarchal number, John, the second, was destined to have 
 a small niche — in the temple of Fame, I was about to say, 
 but that is decidedly too big a word. It would be more 
 appropriate if I were to place him on a foot-stool near the 
 niche, where his two daughters, whom we shall come to 
 presently, are for all time enshrined. 
 
 Their beauty, a divine gift, has placed them there ; and some 
 of this beauty came to them from the Gunnings, who were, 
 we are told, a fine race/ John, the father, being hand- 
 some. His good looks, for it was not his fortune — he being a 
 briefless barrister of the Middle Temple — won him the love 
 of Bridget, daughter to the 6th Viscount Mayo, her mother 
 being a Browne of the Sligo family. The young pair would 
 have their way, and so married on slender means in October, 
 1731. After a little we find them relegated to the country 
 village of Hemingford Grey, in Huntingdonshire. What 
 brought them into this secluded place is not clear, unless it 
 might be that Mr. Gunning's noble father-in-law had made 
 interest to procure him some small post (inland revenue, 
 or the like), which helped him to live better than did his 
 legal pursuits. Here four children were born, Maria in 1731, 
 Elizabeth in 1732," Lucy and Charlotte in 1740. The two 
 
 * One of Mr. Gunning's sisters, Margaret Gunning, was the second 
 wife of Theobald, Viscount Mayo. This lady married no less than four 
 times — Istly J. Edwards, Esq. ; 2ndly, William Lyster, of Athleague ; 
 3rdly, Captain Houston ; 4thly, in 1731, Viscount Mayo. Her picture, 
 which is at Palmerstown, the seat of the jaresent Earl, shows us a 
 pleasant, thoroughly Celtic face, with a sly touch of humour about the 
 mouth, but has no trace of the refined beauty of the Gunnings. 
 After Lord Mayo's death his widow was given the post of housekeeper 
 to Somerset Palace. Another of his sisters married Mr. Nugent, of 
 Carlingford, Westmeath. 
 
 ^ The account of this undistinguished portion of the family was 
 written by an ancient parish clerk in a letter to a Mr. Madder of Ful- 
 ham : — 
 
 " I take this freedom," says this document, which is dated from 
 Huntingdonshire, " in wrighting to you from an information of Mr. 
 Warrington that you would be glad to have an account of my Towns- 
 woman the Notefied, the Famies, Beautifull Miss Gunnings, born at 
 Hemingford Grey, tho' they left the Parish before I had knoledge enough 
 to remember them and I was born in '32. But I will give you the best 
 
34 Some Celebrated Irish Bemities of Last Centtiry. 
 
 last named died and were buried in the chancel of the old 
 church, under a black mavel, upon which there is a simple and 
 pretty inscription. 
 
 In 1740, news came that the elder brother of Mr. Gunning 
 was dead — his father had died some years previously — hence 
 he was the owner of the family place and such property as 
 still remained out of the original grant ; this, however, had 
 considerably dwindled, as was only natural. Sixteen in a 
 family would make a considerable hole in the largest estate ; 
 the claims of his sisters, cousins and aunts did not leave much 
 for John Gunning's family, which was duly increasing, Lizzie 
 having been born in 1741, and a few years later another girl, 
 Catherine, and a boy, John. 
 
 With so many children to provide for, Mr. Gunning did 
 not find much benefit from his accession to his father's 
 property, burdened as it already was. While Mrs. Gunning, 
 who had the hard task of trying to make both ends meet, 
 must have often regretted her imprudent marriage, as year 
 after year went by in the dull seclusion of Castle Coote. 
 
 Country life in Ireland was a very rough-and-ready sort of 
 affair. "You cannot picture to yourself anything more 
 deplorable," writes Arthur Young; ''men of 5000Z. a year 
 live in houses a man of 700L a year in England would disdain 
 to occupy. Neatness and order is wanting in a surprising 
 degree, and there are a number of small country gentlemen,' 
 who hunt all day, and get drunk at night." 
 
 account I can, whicli I believe is better than any man in the country 
 beside myself though I have not the Birth Register for so long a Date 
 and since Dr. Dickens is dead I don't know where it is," but he adds, 
 " there were two more which perhaps you don't know anything about, 
 which T will give you the true Mortalich Register off from a black mavel 
 which lies in our chancel. — (From " Kings and Queens of an hour," 
 FitzGerald.) 
 
 * At this time there were in Ireland three descriptions or grades of 
 gentlemen. 
 
 1. The half mounted. 
 
 2. The gentleman every inch of him. 
 
 3. Gentlemen to the backbone. 
 
 The first were the descendants of Cromwell's soldiers, who were ad- 
 mitted grudgingly into society; if they were good riders, they were 
 called Buckskin Breeches, or Squireens, and had the right to keep the 
 course clear at races. The second class were descendants of some of the 
 
The Gunnings. 35 
 
 Drink was, in Gveiy way, the curso of the whole country ; 
 nine gentlemen in ten were impoverished by the great 
 quantity of claret, which, from mistaken notions of hospitality 
 and dignity, they thought it necessary should be drunk in 
 their houses. Horse racing was such a passion that, in 
 1739, Parliament framed some laws to check, throughout 
 the country, the day labourers taking part in this exciting 
 amusement. A like passion for gambling, sporting, drink- 
 ing, cockfighting and dancing prevailed, together with a 
 
 JOHN GUXNING. 
 
 I'ude but cordial hospitality, and a genuine love of osten- 
 tation and extravagance. 
 
 John Gunning was precisely the man described in Young's 
 vivid picture ; to the last day of his life he was boastful, ex- 
 travagant and pretentious ; he took no thought for the morrow, 
 but, when a lucky stroke of fortune gave him the handling 
 of a little money, he spent it at once as a gentleman should. 
 
 old families, whose estates had jiaid forfeit, and whose children had 
 been forced to degrade themselves by taking to a trade or profession. 
 The last named were the real old stock who, although reduced, lived 
 on in the family place. 
 
 D 2 
 
36 Some Celebrated Irish Bemities of Last Centnry. 
 
 He knew he was pretty safe in contracting debts, as once at 
 home in his native bogs he could defy his creditors to harm 
 him. The approach of any officer of the law was at once the 
 signal for the whole countryside to rise, and the unfortunate 
 process-server would be hunted down and either sunk in the 
 bog or shot like a dog.* 
 
 It was amid scenes like these that the future peeresses 
 grew up, with little or no education beyond what they could 
 obtain from the common, or as he was called, hedge school- 
 master. What manners they had, they learned from their 
 Plantagenet mother, who had her reminiscences of her early 
 days to go back upon. It must have gone hard with the poor 
 lady who had been accustomed to better things in her youth, 
 to find herself now unable to give her daughters any of the 
 advantages to which their position entitled them. There is 
 no doubt that the want of proper education was, later on, to 
 be a sad stumbliug block in the otherwise successful career 
 of the beauties, and, amidst their signal triumphs, was the 
 cause of many and bitter mortifications. Neither of them 
 could spell decently, and the expressions they made use of, 
 the solecisms and mistakes into which they constantly fell, 
 afforded infinite amusement to the fashionable circles of the 
 society to which their high rank gave them admission. 
 
 As their beauty gradually unfolded, the mother's ambition 
 began to awake ; stories of Miss Ambrose's success and 
 Lord Chesterfield's admiration for her, filtered down to Ros- 
 common, and stirred in Mrs. Gunning's heart a longing to 
 show to the world the loveliness that was blushing unseen 
 in the wilds of Connaught. Prompted by maternal vanity, 
 
 ' The writer remembers hearing an old lady describe an exciting 
 sceue she had once witnessed in her father's house. A process server 
 had ventured into the wilds of Roscommon to serve a writ ; he failed, 
 however, to accomplish his purpose, and the indignant debtor 
 threatened to shoot him dead and have his body thrown into the bog. 
 The unfortunate man threw himself on the protection of the ladies of 
 the house, who managed to conceal him somewhere until daylight 
 came, and then the eldest daughter, a girl of 17 (who narrated the 
 story) walked across the country road to the nearest village, in com- 
 pany with the frightened wretch, who clung to the skirt of her dress. 
 It was four o'clock of a summer's morning, and the scene was never 
 forgotten by her. 
 
The Gunnings. 37 
 
 she made a last rally of all her resources, and removed herself 
 and her five children to Dublin, to partake, as far as they 
 were able, of the gaieties of the capital. Her energy is highly 
 to be commended. Without some such stroke of management, 
 Maria and Elizabeth might have done as she herself had done, 
 married some illiterate fox-hunting squire, and gone to their 
 graves unknown and uncoroneted. 
 
 It was in the year 1750 that Mrs. Gunning took this first 
 step on the road that was to lead to fortune. It was in the 
 height of the season that she arrived in Dublin and settled 
 herself in Brittain Street, a locality which is now a mean 
 quarter of the town, occupied by small provision shops and 
 a large hospital. In 1751 it was, however, well considered; 
 its proximity to Rutland Square ^ — then the principal square 
 in Dublin — on one side and the Mall — now Sackville Street 
 — on the other, making it a fashionable locality. Many 
 persons of rank occupied houses, amongst others Lord 
 Kingsland, Lady Alice Hume, Mr. Putland, etc. 
 
 The moment for the arrival of the young beauties was well 
 chosen. The town was unusually full, and a brilliant season 
 was expected. Dublin, in spite of its manifold drawbacks, 
 was a city of many fascinations j there was a wealthy earl as 
 Viceroy, successor to the courtly Chesterfield, and himself of 
 the house of Stanhope ; his court, if not quite so distinguished 
 for hospitality, was brilliant ; there were balls and ridottos, 
 and a constant stream of witty, gifted, titled people coming 
 to and fro, and causing a stir and racket. There were good 
 chances in the matrimonial market, and Mrs. Gunning may 
 be credited with building many an airy castle, for had not 
 her beautiful daughters, with their connections, every chance 
 of success ? Alas ! in a few days her airy fabrics were for 
 the time dissolved, an untoward incident bidding fair to defeat 
 all her fine anticipations. The story has been often told, but 
 it is so dramatic that it bears repeating. 
 
 If Dublin had its attractions it had also its temptations, 
 
 * The houses in E,utlaud Square are large, commodious mansions ; 
 they were occupied almost exclusively by the nobility, who later 
 removed to Merrion Square, the West End of Dublin. 
 
38 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Centtiry. 
 
 especially for a man like Mr. Gunning, pompous, wishing to 
 appear what he was not, and desirous to take his part in all 
 the fashionable vices of the day, gambling, racing, drinking. 
 It was easy for him to gratify his tastes in these directions, 
 and to lay more burdens on the already heavily mortgaged 
 estate. Whether it was in this way that the incident 
 occurred, or whether some former creditor unexpectedly 
 turned up, we do not know, in either case the result was the 
 same. 
 
 A friendly hint was given to Mr. Gunning that the sheriflfs* 
 officers were likely to put in an appearance in Brittain 
 Street, and that it would be wise for him to go, as the phrase 
 went, into retirement. The bailiffs, finding their prisoner 
 flown, took possession of the furniture and effects, while 
 Mrs. Gunning in vain tried to move their stony hearts. 
 Her children, in tears, clung round their distracted mother ; 
 their cries reached the ears of a lady who chanced 
 to be passing ; this was George Ann Bellamy, a young 
 actress, whose beauty and histrionic talent were causing a 
 furore at Sheridan's Theatre, in Smock Alley. Without a 
 moment's hesitation, this impulsive creature obeyed the 
 thought which prompted her to assist anyone in distress, 
 and as the hall door stood open, she went in, and found in 
 the parlour an agitated but elegant lady, surrounded by four 
 lovely girls and a sweet cherub of a boy. Mrs. Gunning 
 received her visitor politely, complimenting her, in the high- 
 flown language of the time, upon possessing such sentiments ; 
 she then entered upon the reason why she found herself in 
 such a situation. Mr. Gunning was away, and Lord Mayo, 
 her brother, was likewise out of reach. She introduced his 
 name, and that of several of her high connections many 
 times. The interview ended by the actress promising to 
 send her man-servant, as soon as it grew dark, with directions 
 to stand under the drawing-room window and catch any light 
 articles which could be thrown to him with safety. Miss 
 Bellamy did more ; she received the whole family into her 
 house, keeping them until some arrangement could be made 
 with the creditors. A f ter a time the two younger children 
 
The Gunnings. 39 
 
 went to reside with, their mother's sister, Miss Bourke, the 
 rest of the family still remaining as the guests of their 
 generous friend. It was during this visit that the three 
 girls, for Ann Bellamy was hardly out of her teens, went by 
 way of a frolic to consult a famous fortune-teller, who was 
 then astonishing all Dublin by her wonderful skill in reading 
 the future, and recounting the past of those who visited her 
 in her mysterious den in Capel Street. The girls were 
 frightened wben they were introduced to the prophetess, who 
 sat in a curtained recess, her head enveloped in dark dra- 
 peries, while her piercing eyes seemed to penetrate the inmost 
 soul of her timid visitors. The seer, however, was all gentle- 
 ness to the sisters ; she held, their pretty hands in hers, and 
 gazed admiringly at their eager, lovely faces, which were 
 suffused with blushes and happy smiles, as she unfolded to 
 them a future laden with golden prospects. Maria was to 
 marry an earl and be loved exceedingly, Elizabeth to soar 
 even higlier, and be destined to wear on her brow two 
 coronets, both of strawberry leaves. The delighted beauties 
 withdrew to inake way for their companion. Now it 
 happened, that the actress, by way of testing the powers of 
 the prophetess, had placed upon the third finger of her 
 left hand the golden symbol of matrimony, but this attem}5t 
 at deception drew down upon her the wrath of the gipsy. 
 
 In a voice utterly different from that in which she had ad- 
 dressed the Gunnings, the prophetess exclaimed, " Take off 
 that wedding ring ! You never were, you never will be 
 married.^' Then, bending over the frightened actress, she 
 whispered in her ear a few words of terrible import, and 
 vanished into Cimmerian darkness. 
 
 Strangely enough, before long these prophecies came true. 
 In the case of the Gunnings, it probably laid the foundation of 
 their future fortunes, as it kindled in their minds the ambition 
 to rise to greatness. Ann Bellamy ^ drifted off to London and 
 
 ' Geokge Ann Bellamy. 
 The career of this unfortunate woman who was by birth Irish, can 
 only be glanced at. It would serve no useful purpose to give it in de- 
 tail. Her beauty was of the most attractive kind, and from her first 
 
40 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 there began the wild career which made her notorious in a 
 time when female virtue was at a low ebb. Her story is a sad 
 record of the good things of fortune recklessly bartered for 
 the pleasures of the moment. The intimacy between the 
 beauties and their benefactress diminished as such incongruous 
 friendships generally do, but in the first warmth the following 
 ill-spelt, ill-written letter from Maria Gunning has been pre- 
 served : — 
 
 appearance on the stage she captivated her audience. She had likewise 
 jjowerful protectors, her father. Lord Tyrawley, not only paid for her 
 education but induced his sister, Mrs. O'Hara, to look after the young 
 girl and take her out in society. When she came to Dublin she had 
 troops of friends, and the story of her triumph over Garrick and how she 
 filled the house when he had to play to a thin one, is amusing reading. 
 Unfortunately she fell into the hands of her scheming, good-for-nothing 
 mother, an actress also, who had married Mr. Bellamy an actor of small 
 parts, many years younger than herself. For a long time George Ann 
 behaved with much propriety, and her reputation was so unblemished, 
 and her friends so powerful, that she surmounted the rather dubious 
 incident of being carried off from Smock Alley Theatre by Lord Byron, 
 a wild young nobleman. After this Miss Bellamy distinctly stated her 
 terms were marriage, a coach, and two footmen. The first seemed quite 
 possible, her beauty and simplicity winning her many honourable lovers. 
 She was, however, her own enemy. When in the zenith of popular 
 favour and playing good parts at Drury Lane, oue night when her turn 
 came she was nowhere to be found ; after a time the curtain drew up 
 and Quin appearing informed the audience that their favourite had 
 eroped with Mr. Metham, an admirer of hers, who would certainly pro- 
 vide her with the coach and footmen. From this time her downward 
 course began. She returned to the stage, but had lost her beauty and 
 youthful simplicity. She was all but hissed off ; she tired out all the 
 friends she had by frequent applications for money, and finally found her 
 way to the Queen's Bench. The actors, always generous to those of the 
 profession who are in want, got up a benefit for her, and Miss Farren 
 then in the height of her popularity, spoke the address : — 
 " But see, oppressed with gratitude and tears ! 
 To pay her beauteous tribute she appears." 
 
 The curtain then drew up and discovered Miss Bellamy seated in an 
 arm-chair, from which she in vain tried to rise, but her tears overcame 
 her, she managed to utter a few words, and then the curtain descended. 
 After this came years of misery until death closed the scene. Before 
 her death she published the story of her life under the name of " An 
 Apology; " it is an uninteresting, ill- written record of no value. In it she 
 states, with perhaps no ground of truth, the ungrateful treatment she re- 
 ceived from her quondam friend (then Lady Coventry), who in the height 
 of her triumphant career, came one night to Di-ury Lane, and when Miss 
 Bellamy was acting some tragic part burst into a scream of laughter and 
 quitted the theatre. This would not seem to be in keeping with Maria's 
 good nature on ordinarv occasions. 
 
The Gunnings. 41 
 
 " I recei'' my dearest Miss Bellamy's letter at last after her long 
 silence indeed I was very Jealous with yon but you make me amens 
 in Letting me hear from you now, it gives me great joy and all our 
 familey to hear that y'' dear mama and y"' Dearest Self are in perfect 
 health to be sure that y' Eelations where fighting to see which of them 
 shod have you the Longest with them. I am very unfortunate to be in 
 the country when our Yauxhall was. . . If I was in Town I shod be 
 thear and I believe I should be more delighted than at a publicker diver- 
 sion I don't beleive it was Mr. Knox you read of at Bath for he 
 
 is hear ; 
 
 " Dublin is the stupites place. ... I beleive Sheridan can get no one 
 to play with him is doing all he can to get funds for him sef to be sure you 
 have heard he is marrd for sirtain to Miss Chamberlain — a sweet pare — 
 
 " I must bid a due and shall only say I am D' 
 " Your ever afFe"'"'^ 
 " M. Gunning." 
 
 Not only the orthograpliy, but the whole teuour of this 
 letter, with its local gossip, marks the ill-educated mind o£ the 
 writer ; such deficiencies are not easily overcome ; it is a fact 
 that has been often noticed, that a want of early training, al- 
 though it may be sufiiciently veneered to pass muster for one 
 occasion, is sure to break out in unlady-like words or actions, 
 under provocation or excitement. 
 
 During the dark days that followed on her expulsion from 
 Brittain Street, Mrs. Gunning must have lost heart, for her 
 brilliant anticipations seemed as far off from realization as 
 when she was pining in the wilds of Connaught. Her husband 
 being still in retirement, her beautiful daughters had no 
 opportunity of exhibiting their charms to the world. Despair 
 seized upon her, and it was said she seriously contemplated the 
 idea of placing them on the stage, where their beauty would 
 be certain to make its mark. This, however, rests solely upon 
 the testimony of Walpole, who circulated the story amongst 
 his friends. The small grain of truth that it did possess was 
 probably due to the fact that, through Miss Bellamy, Sheridan, 
 then manager of Smock Alley Theatre, had become a friend of 
 the mother and daughters, and warmly admired them. Mrs. 
 Gunning's Irish pride, however, would never have stooped to 
 such a lowering of the family dignity as would have been in- 
 volved in allowing her children to do anything towards main, 
 taining themselves, neither had she relinquished the hope that 
 their beauty might yet win for them a high position. Already 
 
42 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 people had begun to talk of some wonderful beauties who had 
 been seen at the theatre and at Eanelagh. Mrs. Gunning's 
 connections began to take notice of them, and a lady, probably 
 Mrs. Butler, who lived in Stephen^s Green, and was one of the 
 great leaders of fashion, interested herself to procure a card 
 for the Birth-night Ball at the Castle. Here was Cinderella's 
 glass coach coming round. 
 
 Tradition has it that the fairy god-mother on this occasion 
 was Sheridan, who lent the young beauties the tinsel finery 
 from the theatrical wardrobe of Smock Alley. Here again a 
 glance at the illustrations in BelVs Theatre or any other the- 
 atrical magazine of the time is enough to prove the absurdity 
 of this story. The costumes worn by Mrs. Woffington, or Mrs. 
 Yates, as Monimia, or Belvidera, would hardly have been 
 suitable for a young lady's ball-dress ; the loan may have con- 
 sisted of some ornament for the hair or neck, which the good- 
 natured manager was only too pleased to supply. In whatever 
 guise they appeared, the two sisters saw and conquered ; their 
 success far surpassed their mother's most sanguine expecta- 
 tions. The ball which was to be the turning point in the lives 
 of our heroines, was given in honour of the King's birthday. 
 The dancing was in the new room, commenced during Chester- 
 field's viceroyalty. " Between the dances the company retired 
 to the long gallery,' where, as they passed slowly through, 
 they stopped at shops elegantly formed, where was cold eating 
 and all sorts of wines and sweetmeats, and the whole most 
 beautifully disposed by transparent paintings through which 
 a shade was cast like moonlight. Flutes and other soft 
 instruments were playing all the while, but, like the candles, 
 unseen. Fountains of lavender water diffused a grateful odour 
 through this fairy scene, which certainly surpassed everything 
 of the kind in Spenser." ^ 
 
 We may imagine how this seeming Paradise must have 
 delighted our two beauties and made them unconscious of the 
 effect they were producing. Fascinatingly coy, with all the 
 
 ^ This must have been the throne room. St. Patrick's Hall was not 
 begun until 1777, and was finished in 1783. 
 ^ Victor : History of the Stage. 
 
The Giinnings. 43 
 
 timidity of untutored country lasses, yet bold at the same 
 time with all the daring of their perfect simplicity, artlessly 
 captivating by the ingenuous ardour of their enthusiasm for 
 the gay sight in which they found themselves for the first 
 time, they, the unknown nobodies, enleved, so to speak, the 
 spectators and won an easy victory over the established 
 beauties of the town, amongst whom were Mrs. Madden, then 
 the toast of Dublin, Miss Ambrose, still reckoned a beauty, 
 and supposed to be wearing the willow for the departed 
 Chesterfield. There was no lack of pretty women, and one 
 of the great English beauties, Lady Caroline Petersham, 
 lately married to the Viceroy's eldest son, was there. She 
 was one of the Beauty-Fitzroys mentioned in Horace Walpole's 
 poem of " The Beauties.-'^ Luckily for the Irish girls, she 
 was of a singularly generous and unselfish nature, so we 
 gather from the numerous anecdotes which are to be found in 
 Walpole's wonderful coUect'ion of gossip. Lady Caroline 
 was more inclined to help these unknown girls, whom she 
 did not look upon as rivals, than to be jealous of their 
 youthful charms. Of the kindly Viceroy they made a complete 
 conquest. We can imagine how joyful was the return from 
 this, their first taste of real triumph. Their reign was now 
 beginning ; by the next morning the whole town rang with 
 their names, and the fame of their beauty travelled to England. 
 " All you have heard of the Gunnings," writes Mrs. Delany,' 
 " is true, except their having a fortune, but I am afraid they 
 have a greater want than that, which is discretion." One 
 does not know what this stricture was pointed at, probably 
 some youthful gaiety which offended the Dean's lady ; for the 
 rest, discretion was unfortunately lacking to Maria all through 
 her career. And now they were to appear on a larger stage, 
 where argus eyes would be on the watch for any lapses of 
 decorum. Lord Harrington, the kind-hearted Viceroy, had 
 spoken words of wisdom to the proud and happy Mrs. Gunning, 
 advising her to take her lovely daughters to London, where there 
 would be a proper field for the display of charms like theirs. 
 
 ^ Mrs. Delany's letters to her sister, 1750. 
 
44 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Centtiry. 
 
 He likewise offered her introductions to good houses. Mrs. 
 Gunning was not loth to follow his counsel which coincided 
 with her own ambitious views ; the girls too, were eager, they 
 had drunk of the intoxicating waters of success, and wished 
 for a deeper draught ; and had not also the fortune-teller pro- 
 phesied one should be a duchess and the other a countess, 
 and was not London full of dukes and lords ? The only ob- 
 stacle lay in the want of funds, but this seems to have been got 
 over in a miraculous manner. Where there's a will there's a 
 way — and, as we have seen, Mrs. Gunning was a woman of 
 determination. Small sums were got from relations, and for 
 some tinexplained reason, Mrs. Gunning, probably through 
 Lord Harrington's influence, received a grant of £150, upon the 
 Irish Establishment.^ She likewise undertook the charge 
 of a young lady, Miss Plaistow " who wished to visit London 
 and enjoy its gaieties under proper chaperonage, and as she 
 was wealthy, this probably added to Mrs. Gunning's means 
 of living. The party set forth in the highest spirits ; it was a 
 long journey at that time to London, it took four days and 
 perhaps longer if the passage to Chester was made in bad 
 weather. Persons of distinction generally travelled in the 
 
 ^ The Irish Establishment was a real grievance and most iustifiable 
 cause of comi)laint. Pensions were given to all manner of persons of doubt- 
 ful reputation, whose names could not appear on the civil list of England. 
 Catherine Sedley, James II.'s mistress, had a grant of 60001. a year ; the 
 Walmoden and Schulenburg were provided for in a similar manner, in 
 George I.'s and II.'s time. George III. saddled the Irish list with 
 oOOOZ. a year for his sister, the unfortunate Caroline Mathilda. In Mrs. 
 Gunning's case, however, the grant was merely apiece of jobbing. 
 
 - Catherine Plaistow, daughter of General Plaistow was of Dutch ex- 
 traction. She was very pretty, and being seen with the Gunnings, was 
 considered a " third beauty " of course in a minor degree ; she married 
 Cyrus Trapeaud, a relation of Marshal Turenne. At the battle of (1743) 
 Dettingen he saved the life of George the Second, whose horse had run 
 away with him. Ensign Trapeaud seized the bridle and when the King 
 alighted he said, " Now, if my horse will run away my legs shall not ! " 
 the young officer got rapid promotion to reward him for his service. He 
 ■was made General Trapeaud 1783, and was alive in 1800, living in one of 
 the Adam houses in Mansfield Street, where Paoli and other dis- 
 tinguished personages visited him and his wife, who retained much of the 
 beauty handed down in her picture by Sir Joshua Eeynolds. The 
 General, who was blind and 83 years of age, died in 1801 and is buried 
 at Chelsea Hospital. Mrs. Trapeaud then removed to Welbeck Street, 
 where she died in 1805. They had no children, but had adoi:)ted a 
 nephew of hers. 
 
The Gtmnings. 45 
 
 Lord Lieutenant's yacht, for which they paid five guineas each 
 to the captain. It was, however, a mark of favour to get 
 a passage, as the sailing vessels that plied from Dunleary to 
 Chester were rough in their accommodation; from Chester 
 there was a road journey, either by posting or coach. 
 
 All things taken into consideration, it was a bold venture 
 which only ultimate success could justify, failure would indeed 
 have been disastrous ; nothing, however, " succeeds like 
 success," and the triumphant career of the Gunnings has 
 given them a place in history. It must, however, be remem- 
 bered, when considering their good fortune, that in the^day in 
 which they lived beauty was all powerful. There never was a 
 period when so much homage was paid to female loveliness. 
 Men went down in worship before their mistress, fought duels 
 to get possession of a ribbon or a flower she had worn, and 
 threw all prudence to the winds to obtain her. Women taken 
 from the lowest classes and from what was, in those days, 
 thought to be the lowest of all, the stage, were raised to the 
 highest positions, so that the actual rise of the Gunnings 
 taking into account that they were of good birth, is not a 
 matter that should excite astonishment. There is, however, in 
 their career certain elements of dramatic interest which makes 
 their story always fresh and interesting. 
 
 It was in the spring of the year 1751 that Mrs. Gunning 
 arrived in London. Maria was then in her nineteenth, 
 Elizabeth in her eighteenth year. Both being lovely, it 
 would be difficult to say which was really the lovelier. 
 Judging from their portraits, one would say that Maria had 
 the more delicate features and the sweeter smile, while 
 Elizabeth's face wears a composed and yet arch expression. 
 The character of their beauty is much the same ; both have 
 the long, seductive eyes, delicate mouths, exquisite colouring, 
 and oval faces ; the features harmoniously set. 
 
 The moment of their appearance was well chosen ; the 
 world of fashion, which Thackeray describes so graphically 
 as embroidered, be-ruffled, be-laced, snuflP-boxed, red-heeled, 
 and impertinent, was always on the look-out for novelty. 
 The heaux were in the humour to elect the Irish girls to the 
 
46 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 dignity of standard beauties — a word to which our '^ Pro- 
 fessional beauty " answers. We find from garrulous 
 Walpole that their names were in every one's mouth. They 
 were said to be the handsomest women alive, " although for 
 my part/' he adds, " I think their being two so handsome 
 and such perfect figures is their chief excellence, for singly 
 I have seen much handsomer women than either of them." 
 There were others who supported this view ; the Duchess of 
 Somerset found them too tall, and Selwyn thought their 
 faces too long. Mrs. Delany considered Maria had a silly 
 look about her mouth, and again asserts that both young 
 ladies were wanting in discretion. Dr. Carlyle raved of 
 Elizabeth. 
 
 In all these criticisms we can read between the lines. It 
 was the old story. The beauties who had been " standards '' 
 were not minded to lower their colours, and ihevr friends and 
 admirers backed them up. When we look into the chronicles 
 of the time, it is amazing what a galaxy of lovely faces 
 present themselves. Lady Stafibrd and " lovely Mrs. Pitt ! " ' 
 Miss Chudleigh, afterwards the too famous Duchess of 
 Kingston — and at this very time secretly married to Lord 
 Hervey — the charming Miss Bishops, the beautiful Peggy 
 Banks, with whom the Duke of Cumberland — hero of 
 Culloden — was madly in love. Lady Diana Spencer," Lady 
 Caroline Petersham, and Lady Eochford, " with whom all the 
 royals'^ were in love. 
 
 The Gunnings possessed the charm of novelty ; they had a 
 certain freshness and natural wit, born of their Irish nature, 
 which attracted the graver Saxon, as did likewise the soft 
 Celtic voice, tinged with a decided brogue, which to English 
 ears has a certain music. Their somewhat hoydenish 
 manners, which occasionally degenerated into vulgar bold- 
 ness, were pronounced to be youthful gaiety, and their 
 rather doubtful remarks were called the naivete of extreme 
 innocence. This innocence, however, exposed them to 
 
 * This lady, a celebrated beauty, was the daughter of Sir Eichard 
 Atkins. Her husband, who treated her badly, was made Lord Rivers. 
 - let married to Lord Bolingbroke ; 2ndly, Topham Beauclerk. 
 
The Gunnings. 47 
 
 rather an unpleasant adventure. Being a great deal too 
 frank, the girls imprudently confided to some of their new 
 friends the visit they had paid in Dublin to the wonderful 
 fortune-teller, together with the great things that were to 
 befall them. Said the simple Maria, " Shure Lizzie is to be 
 a duchess twice over, and I am only to be a countess, but I 
 am not one bit jealous, for shure my lord is to love me, and 
 that is what I care for most." 
 
 It can hardly be believed that this simplicity should have 
 been taken advantage of, and that two men — they cannot be 
 called gentlemen — actually employed a low fellow, to whom 
 they paid a sum of money, to personate one of the noblemen 
 for whom the sisters were sighing. Mr. Thrale, the rich 
 Southwark brewer, at this time not married to the lovely 
 Esther Salusbury, was one of the conspirators, and brought 
 the pretended lord to introduce him as an admirer to Maria. 
 Mrs. Gunning, with wonderful acumen, saw there was some- 
 thing suspicious in the whole matter. She quietly kept a 
 watch on the proceedings, and, having satisfied herself that 
 the supposed nobleman was an impostor, she ordered both 
 him and his companions to leave her house. One cannot but 
 feel pleased that this meanness should have been circumvented. 
 This was not the only proof the beauties received to show 
 them that their success was raising up a horde of enemies 
 who would stop at no nasty trick " to drive rivals from the 
 field." The story is well known of the Duchess of Bedford's ^ 
 masquerade, to which all the world was going, and towards 
 which the Gunnings, mother and daughters, cast longing 
 eyes, but, like the Peri outside the gates of Paradise, had no 
 chance of admission. With their usual silly frankness they 
 again confided in their friends, and were again hoaxed by 
 receiving a sham card of invitation. Once more they were 
 saved from what would have been " social damnation " by 
 their mother's quick intelligence. Scanning the card 
 curiously, she detected some erasures which excited her 
 
 ^ Gertrude, daughter to the 1st Earl Gower, married 1737, John, 
 Duke of Bedford. She was a well-known figure in the latter half of 
 the last century, and was strangely mixed up in the Gunning history. 
 
48 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 suspicion ; the application of a chemical exposed the 
 fraud — another name was written underneath. With great 
 courage and ready wit, Mrs. Gunning turned this trick, 
 which was intended for her discomfiture, into a cause of 
 triumph. Card in hand, she waited upon the duchess — with 
 whom she had no previous acquaintance — taking care to be 
 accompanied by one of her lovely daughters. While the 
 mother discoursed upon the ill-natured hoax, the eyes of her 
 hostess travelled over the fair face and elegant figure of 
 the young girl. She was a well-established leader of society, 
 and knew the value of such attractions. Needless to say 
 she substituted a genuine invitation for the mock card. 
 
 In all the early history of the beauties there are but meagre 
 details. One would wish for more specific information as to 
 where they lived, and many other minor circumstances of in- 
 terest which have not been handed down. Thanks, however, 
 to the indefatigable flow of gossip that was kept up in the 
 last century, when the letters to friends at a distance took 
 the place of " society papers/' we are kept pretty well axL 
 courant of what concerned people in the world. In this way 
 we catch constant glimpses of our heroines as they went on 
 their triumphant progress. 
 
 Society in 1751 did not differ essentially from society in 
 1894 j there may have been, perhaps, more easy freedom 
 in intercourse, for it was then a more restricted circle. 
 There was a great deal of card playing ; " there were 
 cards everywhere." Keadiug was considered ill-bred. 
 " Books ! don't talk to me of books," said the old Duchess 
 of Marlborough ; " the only books I know are men and cards. ^^ 
 Even the great ''dungeon" of learning, Dr. Johnson, regretted 
 he had never learnt how to play games of chance. There was 
 also a flagrant display of wickedness, and, in spite of Mrs. Lynn 
 Linton's declaration of the great purity and sweetness of the 
 women of the eighteenth century as compared with those of 
 the present day, the reading of the old memoirs would incline 
 one to suppose that all this goody behaviour was put 
 on. It might have existed in the country, but it was 
 speedily lost sight of in town, where an extraordinary license 
 
The Gunnings. 49 
 
 of manners prevailed. Ladies of tlie rank of the Duchess of 
 Ancaster/ with Mrs. Bouverie and Mrs. Crewe, aspired to be 
 pretty fellows, and went to masquerades attired as men. We 
 are more surprised to find that Mrs. Darner, the " in- 
 fanta '^ of Walpole and the friend of Mary and Agnes Berry, 
 adopted this fashion, but it was in her young days when 
 example was contagious. Her cousin, the fast young wife of 
 Lord Grandison, Gertrude Conway," the queen of beauty, 
 beat the record for eccentricity, to call by a mild name a 
 total want of decorum. It was her custom to be present at 
 the suppers given at break of day after the masquerades were 
 over. These suppers, which "no lady need leave save 
 those who are too immodest to stay " (so ran the formula), 
 were marked by hard drinking and singing; and it was the 
 custom to fling open the windows and pelt the eager, hungry, 
 thirsty, howling crowd below with half empty bottles. It was 
 not surprising that when ladies of rank so lowered their 
 standard, men should treat them much as they did their 
 " Delias from Drury Lane.^' 
 
 To return to the Gunnings. We can follow them through 
 all the gay scenes of this brilliant London season. To 
 Ranelagh on a water party with Lady Caroline Petersham, 
 all the fashionable lords in attendance ; to St. James's Palace 
 one Sunday afternoon, when they were presented to the old 
 King George II., and kindly received, an event duly chronicled 
 in the Dublin Journal. Then we see them at the theatre 
 surrounded by admirers, and at Vauxhall, where an admiring 
 crowd, growing larger every minute, followed them wherever 
 they went. This also happened when they walked in the 
 Mall. Lord Clermont describes how, one Sunday, when the 
 young ladies were in the Park, such crowds collected 
 to gaze at them, and so violent and impertinent was their 
 
 * The Duchess of Ancaster was not to the manner born, being the 
 daughter of Joe Panton, a well-known jockey. The Duchesses of An- 
 caster were all singular. Says Horace Walpole, " the three last were 
 never sober." 
 
 " Gertrude Conway,_ daughter to Lord Hertford, elder brother of 
 General Conway, married the Earl of Grandison, now an extinct Irish 
 title. 
 
50 Some Celebr'aled Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 curiosifcy, that ho, as woll as tho other gentlcraon who 
 escorted the ladies, had to draw their swords in order to 
 protect them from the too bold admiration of the mob, while 
 they made a precipitate retreat to Lord Harrington's house at 
 the corner of St. James's stable yard.' 
 
 The girls were more frightened than flattered at those proofs 
 of the power of tlioir beauty, for at this stage of early girlhood 
 thoy were singularly modest and simple. Tho public, however, 
 are never restrained V>y any feelings of delicacy, and continued 
 to follow and stare at their favourites whenever they showed 
 themselves in tho streets or parks. Here is a little scene 
 which reads as if it happened only yesterday : — 
 
 " 'Tis a warin day," writes George Selwyn, from Whyte's to 
 Lord Carlisle, "and some one proposes a stroll to T3etty's 
 fruit-shop;'' suddenly the cry is raised, 'the Gunnings arc 
 coming,' and wo all tumble out to gaze and to criticize." 
 
 Walpole too, has their names for over at the end of 
 his pen, prompted, one would say, by a potty feeling of 
 jealousy that more women should usurp so much attention. 
 He Hays, writing to Sir Horace Mann at Florence, "You, 
 who knew England formerly, will be surprised to hear that the 
 * folly ' at White's,' together with the famous beauties, are 
 more talked of than tho change in the Ministry." And in 
 
 ' In \lh\ the now faHhionabIc region of Hyde Park and I{olf(ravia 
 wan a country Hubiirb, and London proper was confined to Mayfair. 
 St. JameH'H Park waH the faHhional>le promenade, and a woman of 
 fashion or rccof^nized Ijcanty never failed to hHow herHclf there, accom- 
 panied by aH many gallanlH aH Hhe could muHter. 
 
 ^ Hetty'H fruit-Hhop, facing St. .fameH'H Park, kept by MrH. Elizabeth 
 Neale, better known by the name of Hetty. She kept, for many yearH, 
 a house in St. .iameH's Street as a fruit-whop, and had the first pre- 
 eminence in her occupation, and might be called the " Queen of Apple- 
 women " ; her knowledge of I'amilieH and characters of the last and 
 present age was wonderful ; Hhe was a woman of pleasing manners. 
 Mason introduced her name into the Heroic PJpistles : — 
 And patriot Petty fix her fruit-shop there. 
 
 "Selwyn's Memoirs.'' 
 
 ' The "folly'' was a dinner of seven young men, who bespoke it to 
 the utmost extent of expense; one article was a tart made of Duke's 
 cherries, from a hot-house, and a rule was made that only one glass of 
 champagne was taken out of each bottle. — "History of White's Club." 
 
The Gjmnincs. 
 
 51 
 
 the next letter, " They make more noise than any one 
 of their predecessors since Helen of Troye ; a crowd follows 
 them wherever they walk, and at Vauxhall they were driven 
 away, but/^ he adds, " this mobbing is a sure sign of success, 
 although now and again it be attended with a certain amount 
 of inconvenience as when they went to see Hampton Court. 
 As they were going into the 'Beauty Eoom' another company 
 arrived ; the housekeeper called out ' Ladies, here are the 
 beauties,^ upon which, ^^ adds Walpole, " the two Gunnings flew 
 into a passion and roundly abused the woman, telling her they 
 had come to see the Palace, not to be made part of the show." 
 
 MISS GUNNING. 
 
 ( TT'atcli-paper portrait.) 
 
 Another proof, if indeed proofs were wanting, of their grow- 
 ing fame was now given by the appearance of their portraits 
 in print shops. Sayer, who was the fashionable engraver of 
 the day, issued a small vignette engraved from a picture 
 by Cotes.' This little print was intended for a " watch- 
 paper," which was then a fashionable necessity, most men 
 carrying about with them the portrait of some standard 
 beauty, which was made of the size and shape to carry inside 
 
 ^ Througli the kindness of the Hon. Gerald Ponsonby, I am able to 
 present my readers with an engraving of this interesting little print, 
 now exceedingly rare. 
 
52 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Centtiry. 
 
 the lid of the large sized watches of tlie day, with their highly 
 chased cases. 
 
 This evidence of the general appreciation of her daughters' 
 beauty, although, no doubt, gratifying to Mrs. Gunning, was 
 not the form most pleasing to her maternal heart. She very 
 rightly considered that admiration to be worth having needs 
 the seal, or trade mark of brilliant matrimonial success, just as 
 a good sale marks the real value of all purchasable articles. 
 It was true that some of the best matches of the season had 
 fluttered round the sisters ; Lord Coventry had been dangling 
 after Mad-ia; a Scotch Earl beset Elizabeth, besides an infinite 
 number of smaller fry ; but the season had come to an end 
 without either of the girls receiving an offer worth acceptance. 
 Their father who had now joined them, was no doubt a 
 detriment to them, his loud-voiced pomposity being singulaijjly 
 discordant to English ears. 
 
 With spirits somewhat lowered — and no wonder, for God 
 help the poor souls, they must have had a fine load of debt by 
 this time — the mother and daughters betook themselves to 
 Bath. Everyone went to Bath in those days, and drank the 
 waters there, instead of going, as they do now, to Homburg or 
 Royat — it was London over again — just as we go abroad now 
 
 and find Lady C , and Lady D , and H.E.H. mixed up 
 
 with the Tuggs' from Ramsgate, and the Ledburys' from 
 Brighton. Only there was a little more gossip and scandal, 
 and general wickedness. We may give the rein to our 
 imagination about the Gunnings at Bath, for we know 
 nothing ; Walpole wasn't there this autumn, or he would 
 have written to some of his cronies, and filled up the vacuum 
 by chronicling every doing of the girls; poor things, they 
 must have had heavy hearts, for what was to happen if nothing 
 came of all the fashion and the mobbing, the extravagance, 
 and the fortune-teller^s prophecy. Something, however, was 
 coming, the Pumpkin was going to turn into the carriage and 
 four white ponies, and the Cinderellas were to be real, great 
 ladies ; it was only a question of a very few weeks before all 
 London would be talking of their triumph. Christmas saw 
 them once more in the Park, looking more beautiful than 
 
The Gunnings. 53 
 
 ever. " I saw these goddesses of Gunnings," writes Mrs. 
 Montague, '' wrapped in quilted satin pelisses, their lovely 
 throats hid by rich furs, which set off the brilliancy of their 
 complexions. In this garb, the beauties took their noble 
 admirers' hearts by storm and fairly beat down and ex- 
 tinguished every remnant of prudence.^' 
 
 By that strange law of contrast which seems to govern all 
 love affairs, the Duke of Hamilton, a wild, boisterous, hard- 
 drinking, dissipated man, damaged alike in fortune and in 
 health, attached himself to Elizabeth, attracted no doubt by 
 her demure and rather sober gravity, while the Earl of 
 Coventry, pompous and proud, was more than ever infatuated 
 by the somewhat hoydenish manners of the lovely Maria. 
 Both men were desperately in love, but the Duke's wooing 
 was in a more advanced stage. His courtship was watched by 
 a hundred curious, unfriendly eyes, and supplied gossip for as 
 many tea-tables. It shows infinite tact upou the part of the 
 young girl that she should have played her game as she did, 
 with open cards, while the audience looked on, making their 
 bets as to the result almost within her hearing. Elizabeth's 
 demure, composed nature carried her through this trying 
 situation. She appeared everywhere with her admirer, sitting 
 beside him when he moved an address in the House of Lords. 
 In this month of December, Lord Chesterfield, who was now 
 living in the retirement of private life, busy with his letters 
 to his son, threw open Chesterfield House,^ which was just 
 finished, and inaugm^ated the occasion by a splendid entertain- 
 ment. The nobility of the eighteenth century practised, it 
 may be to an excess, the motto of nohlessc oblige, a motto 
 which, by the way, has fallen very much into disuse. Except 
 in very rare cases, noble birth imposes now-a-days no obliga- 
 tions upon the holder of the dignity; this may be as well — 
 especially as we are gradually approaching a Commonwealth 
 — but when we come to reflect upon the men who played such 
 a part in the history of the Georges, we cannot refrain from 
 admiration. In spite of their many grave defects, their loose 
 morality, their extravagant habits, they had some grand 
 ^ Chesterfield House now belongs to Mr. Magniac, 
 
54 Some Celeh'ated Irish Bemities of Last CenUiry. 
 
 qualities, and there was nothing petty about them. They 
 patronized men of letters and artists with a generosity that 
 was admirable, their houses were palaces, their entertainments 
 princely ; and so we come back to Chesterfield House, where 
 every person of distinction was bidden, and where all the 
 world went. 
 
 " The assembly at my Lord Chesterfield's was made to 
 show the house, which is really magnificent,'^ writes Walpole 
 next day to Sir Horace Mann, and then he goes on to give 
 him an insight into Elizabeth Gunning's chances of being 
 " duchessed.'^ " The Duke of Hamilton, having already fallen 
 in love with her six weeks ago at a masquerade, made such 
 violent love to her to-night at one end of the room, while he 
 was playing at Pharaoh or ' Faro ' at the other, that he saw 
 neither the bank nor his own cards, which were of three hun- 
 dred each, and soon lost a thousand. I own I thought that all 
 this parade looked ill for the poor girl, and could not conceive 
 if he was so engaged with his mistress as to disregard such 
 sums, why he played at all." 
 
 Lord Chesterfield was of the same opinion, and confided to 
 Selwyn, he did not think it looked well for the lady's honour. 
 The bets made as to the probable issue of the courtship now 
 ran into large sums. Elizabeth Gunning, however, was just 
 the girl who could keep so bold a lover within proper limits \ 
 her coldness of temperament standing her in good stead. She 
 never lost her head, as when, two evenings later than the 
 Chesterfield entertainment, being left purposely at home 
 whilst her mother and Maria went abroad, she so inflamed the 
 duke's passion by a due mixture of coquetry and coyness, that 
 in an access of love he swore they should be married that very 
 night j Mrs. Gunning returning at the proper moment, a 
 parson was sent for and the party, repairing to Mayfair 
 chapel, this strange wedding took place at midnight on 
 February 14th, 1752. 
 
 The next day all London was in a tumult. Stories flew like 
 so many windmills ; the '^ Benjamin Backbites " and the " Mrs. 
 Candours " wagged their tongues in every drawing-room ; the 
 women were furious, " Mad," says Walpole, " that so much 
 
The Gtmnings. 55 
 
 beauty had its effect. The event, " he writes to Sir Horace 
 Mann, " which has made the greatest noise since my last is 
 the extempore wedding of the two Gunnings/ who have made 
 so vehement a noise. Lord Coventry, a young lord of the 
 patriot breed, has long dangled after the eldest virtuously for 
 her honour, not very honourably with regard to his own 
 credit. About six weeks ago, Duke Hamilton, the very 
 reverse of the earl, not debauched, extravagant, fell in love 
 with the youngest at a masquerade." Then he goes on to 
 give an account of Lord Chesterfield's assembly, adding, " I 
 own I was so little a professor of love that I thought matters 
 looked ill for the poor girl, but two nights later, when her 
 mother and sister were at Bedford House, a sudden ardour, 
 either of wine or love, seized upon him, a parson was promptly 
 sent for, but on arriving refused to officiate without the im- 
 portant essentials of license or ring. The duke swore and 
 talked of calling in the Archbishop. Finally the parson's 
 scruples gave way, the licence was overlooked, and the lack of 
 the traditional gold ring was supplied by the ring of a bed 
 curtain ! '^ He does not say what was really the case, that 
 the party set off at midnight in a coach to the church in May- 
 fair, where the marriage took place. 
 
 One of the first results of the marriage was that the duke's 
 example incited Maria's graver and more dignified lover to a 
 declaration, fearful that he would lose her. Lord Coventry 
 made up his vacillating mind, and three weeks later, on March 
 1st, 1751, led the more fascinating of the two sisters "to 
 the hymeneal altar." A poem was published at the time 
 entitled the " Charms of Beauty, or the Grand contest 
 between the fair Hibernians and the English Toasts." " 
 It was occasioned by the marriage of his Grace the Duke of 
 Hamilton with Miss Elizabeth Gunning, and the expected 
 marriage of her elder sister with a certain noble earJ, and is a 
 most amusing picture of the excitement caused by the success 
 of the Irish girls. 
 
 ' This is a curious mistake. Maria was not married till the fol- 
 lowing March. 
 - The sisters were painted as " the fair Hibernians." See Appendix. 
 
56 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 Ye British fair, whom Envy may excite 
 To blast the Gunnings with envenomed spite, 
 Can these fair breasts such rancour entertain. 
 Those eyes so brilliant sparkle with Disdain ? 
 
 Hibernian land amid its bogs and Fens 
 Has cultivated Beauty, Wit and Sense. 
 How widely have we erred from the truth 
 To call the Irish wild and scorn their youth. 
 By foreign fashions they are not disguised, 
 What Heaven gives, by them is choicely prized. 
 
 Long have the Gunnings, both divinely fair. 
 Unrivalled shone on Beauty's glorious sphere. 
 Long been the Toasts amongst the gay and gTcat, 
 And daily conquests prostrate at their feet. 
 
 The noble Hamilton confessed his Flame, 
 A name recorded in the books of Fame ; 
 Eliza's virtue clothed with Beauty's robe 
 He loves beyond the riches of the Globe. 
 
 The noble C y tho' sacje and voise 
 
 Above his years, and good without disguise. 
 Feels the most soft impression on his heart, 
 And yields himself a Captive to desert 
 Etc., etc. 
 
MARIA, lOL■^'TESS OF COVENTRY. 
 
 {To face page al. 
 
MAEIA, COUNTESS OF COVENTRY. 
 
 Born 1731, Died 17G0. 
 
 In the old-fasliioned three-volume novels marriage generally 
 concluded, as it were, the heroine's adventures, the curtain 
 being supposed to drop upon an existence of never-ending 
 felicity. This misleading picture of the realities of life has 
 in our generation been considerably modified, and our authoi'S 
 (especially the women writers) present their heroine either on 
 her wedding day or immediately after, their portrait of 
 married life being as uninviting as the former one was 
 imaginative. In biography the real story has to be told, and, 
 curiously enough, the same features are generally to be found 
 in the record of most lives. It is a true saying that it is what 
 we ourselves put into life that generally makes or mars our 
 happiness. We all have our burdens to carry, our dark hours 
 to pass through. If the first were shouldered with a strong 
 will and the second supported by a good heart, the weight 
 would be lessened and the gloom lightened. 
 
 We are now about to follow our heroines whom we left 
 standing on the threshold of a new and wonderful life. They 
 had fitted on the glass slipper, and, like their prototype 
 Cinderella, all had changed in a moment. Good-bye to. debts, 
 difiiculties, the poor shifts of gentility, and the slights of the 
 rich and the fashionable. It must have seemed to them like 
 some enchanting dream from which they feared to awake to 
 find all vanished — the prince, the glass slipper and the coach. 
 This feeling would be in the first blush of delighted surprise ; 
 but by-and-by time and habit (which stales the infinite variety 
 of all things) will take oS" the first enchanting gloss, and then 
 we shall see how they passed over the burning ploughshare 
 
58 So7ne Celebrated Irisk Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 of that wicked, but delightful world of our great grandmothers, 
 and how Maria made a disastrous failure and Elizabeth enjoyed 
 tranquil domestic happiness. 
 
 " The world is still mad about the Gunnings," writes the 
 indefatigable Walpole. '' When the Duchess of Hamilton 
 was presented last Sunday, the excitement was so great that 
 even the noble crowd in the drawing-room stood upon the 
 chairs and tables to look at her. There were mobs at the 
 doors to see her and Lady Coventry get into their chairs, and 
 people go early to get places at the theatre when it is known 
 they were to be there. Doctor Sacheverell never made more 
 fuss than did these two beauties." 
 
 After a brilliant season, we hear of their retiring to their 
 husbands' country seats, and of no less than seven hundred 
 people sitting up all night in and about a Yorkshire inn to 
 see the Duchess of Hamilton get into her postchaise ; and 
 then the world is silent about the beautiful sisters for a little 
 time — only Gossip Horace keeps his eye upon them. He and 
 the famous partie-carree which met at stated periods at 
 Strawberry Hill — George Selwyn, Gilly Williams, Dick 
 Edgecombe — constituted what Walpole was wont to call 
 " his out-of-town party." What a debt of gratitude we 
 owe these men, scandal-mongers though they were ; as 
 Thackeray says, " In their correspondence with one another 
 one almost hears the voices of the. dead past, the laughter and 
 the chorus, the toast called over the brimming cups, the shout 
 at the racecourse or the gaming table, the merry joke frankly 
 spoken to the fine lady." Our great English writer seems to 
 give the palm to the published letters of George Selwyn, 
 from the fact that these are the work of so many hands. 
 You hear more voices speaking, as it were, and they are more 
 natural than Horace's dandified treble or Sporus's malignant 
 whisper. It is in Selwyn's correspondence that we grow 
 acquainted with Gilly Williams, whose voice has an especially 
 kindly ring, in talking of poor, silly Lady Coventry, who seems 
 to have shown great kindness to her husband's friends, there- 
 by gaining their regard for herself and her children. 
 
 It must be owned that with all her faults Maria Gunning 
 
Maria J Cotmtess of Coventry. 59 
 
 was far the more attractive of the sisters. Her weakness was 
 vanity and love of admiration. She was a poor, foolish thing, 
 a foreshadowing of the French heroine who dies in the lovely 
 tea-gown. Looking at her picture, you can gather an idea of 
 those wonderful charms which bewitched so many men. 
 There is something bright, dazzling, more spiritual than in the 
 calmer and colder Elizabeth ; ^ ever ready to smile or to cry 
 was Maria, with an extraordinary play of expression. " She 
 has a thousand dimples," says Mrs. Delany, " and a thousand 
 prettinesses in her cheek, her eyes a little drooping, but fine 
 for all that ; she has a thousand airs, but with a sort of humour 
 that diverts me." 
 
 This is a good picture of the Irish girl, who was indeed 
 weighted with fearful disadvantages, for her husband was not 
 a man to help, being somewhat of a prig ; some people called 
 him a solemn fool. Walpole said of him that in his wise way 
 he was quite as ill-bred and ignorant as his Countess, besides 
 being jealous, a prude and scrupulous. To judge from the 
 evidence of his intimate friends, one would say his lordship 
 was ill to live with from his affected superiority and disputa- 
 tious assertiveness.'- He and his beautiful wife quarrelled like a 
 pair of children, she complaining to everyone, with a charming 
 pout, that it was so odd my lord should treat her in such a way, 
 when she knew he would die for her, and had been so kind as 
 to marry her without a shilling. They were, in fact, an ill- 
 matched couple, although by no means so in appearance. The 
 picture of Lord Coventry by Ramsay shows us a charming 
 face with a sweet expression and that grand-seigneur air which 
 marked the nobleman of the day. Looking at it, one is in- 
 clined to discredit the ill-natured stories told of " Covey " by 
 bis friends — and yet the judgment of contemporaries is 
 
 She is well described in a magazine of the day : — 
 " Maria every care beguiles, 
 She glances rapture in her smiles ; 
 To all the beauties of her mind, 
 She adds the beauty to be kind." 
 
 _ ^ The character Lord Coventry bore at White's Club was that of a 
 disputatious man, " who was opposing and arguing with some person 
 every night." 
 
6o Some Celebi^ated h'ish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 generally accurate, and, at all events, it is the only guide we 
 have of knowing those who lived a hundred years before our 
 time. 
 
 Poor, silly Maria ! her foolish talk and stupidity made her 
 the jest of the town, which in itself must have been galling to 
 a man of Lord Coventry's nature. It did not mend the 
 matter that many of her hetises were the additions of some 
 sprightly wit. In all this the jealousy which her good fortune 
 had excited had to be taken into account, while her want of 
 education, due to the early Eoscommon training, and which 
 she had not the art to conceal like her cleverer sister, made 
 her a mark for the ill-natured. Society, in fact, indemnified 
 itself for its insane admiration of her face by circulating her 
 " Sprospositos/' ' to quote the name given to her odd sayings 
 by Horace Walpole, who diligently collected them for the 
 amusement of his correspondents, 
 
 " I cannot say her genius equals her beauty," he writes to 
 the Countess of Ossory ; and then he pays a tribute to her 
 good humour. " If she were not," he said, " the best-tempered 
 creature in the world, I should have made her angry." 
 This was at a supper at Lord Hertford's, and the beauty, 
 being asked to take more wine, answered, with a strong 
 Irish accent, if she drank more she would be "muckibus." 
 " Lord ! " said Lady Mary Coke, " what is that ? " " Oh," 
 cried Mr. Walpole, " it is only Irish for sentiment." On 
 another occasion, the King, asking her if she were not 
 sorry there were no masquerades, she said. No, she was tired 
 of them ; she was surfeited with most sights, there was but 
 one she wanted to see, a coronation. The old King told this 
 himself. He was very partial to the pretty creature, and 
 forgave her unintentional gaudier ie. 
 
 The first check her vanity received was in Paris, where Lord 
 Coventry took her soon after their marriage. They went 
 with a party which included the still beautiful Lady Caroline 
 Petersham; their adventures on their journey are amusing 
 
 ^ These Sprospositos recall similar sayings of a well-known lady who 
 figured in the " fifties." Mrs. Hudson was, however, more of a Mrs. 
 Malaprop than Lady Coventry. 
 
Maria ^ Countess of Coventry. 6 1 
 
 reading, but some of Lady Coventry's " sprospositos " on 
 this occasion do not bear repeating. There was a natural 
 want of refinement in her, due to the early training: for 
 the rest, in the last century it was the custom to call a spade 
 a spade. The Parisians were by no means impressed by any 
 of the party, and paid no homage to the wonderful beauty 
 which had so bewitched the English. So far Wajpole's 
 opinion is borne out that, taken singly, the goddesses were 
 ordinary handsome women. 
 
 " Our beauties are returned," he writes to Sir Horace. 
 " The French could not conceive that Lady Caroline ever 
 had been handsome, or that Lady Coventry had much pretence 
 to be so now ; indeed, all the travelled English allow there is a 
 Madame Brionue handsomer and of a finer figure. Poor Lady 
 Coventry," he goes on to say, "was under disadvantages, for, 
 besides being very silly, ignorant of the world and breeding, 
 speaking no French and suffered to wear neither red nor 
 powder, she had that perpetual drawback, her lord, who speaks 
 French just enough to show how rude he is." 
 
 Eude he certainly was (possibly driven wild by the 
 hoydenish behaviour of Maria), doing all manner of ill-bred 
 gaudier ies which excited the amusement and contempt of the 
 Parisians, then the most refined people in Europe. The 
 husband and wife made themselves infinitely ridiculous by 
 their quarrels ; while his absurd jealousy rendered him a sort 
 of butt, and incited the gallant Frenchmen to pay additional 
 court to his lady. One can imagine how such a scene as took 
 place at Sir John Bland^s must have afforded food for mirth ; 
 when the grave English " milor '^ was seen chasing his beautiful 
 countess round the dinner table, and, having run her to earth 
 in a corner, proceeded to rub with a napkin all the raddle and 
 powder ' off her face, telling her that since she had broken her 
 
 ^ Lord Coventry was not singular in his dislike to the white lead and 
 raddle. The World, to which Lord Chesterfield contributed largely, 
 in its issue of October, 1756, makes an earnest appeal to the fashionable 
 ladies of society to lay aside " the shameful piratical practice of hoisting 
 false colours uj^on their top gallants in the mistaken notion of captivat- 
 ing their countrymen. Be it known to them that there is not a man in 
 England who does not prefer infinitely the brownest natural to the 
 whitest artificial skin." 
 
62 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 promise to him and got herself painted, he would carry her 
 back to England forthwith. Another time he made a scene 
 about her presenting the Marechale de Lowenthal with a fan 
 that lady had admired. The next morning, however, arrived 
 an ill-written letter asking for it back as her parting with 
 it would make an irreparable breach with my lord, because 
 he had given it to her before marriage. She begged her 
 accep4,nce of another fan, which turned out to be old and 
 shabby. 
 
 These were a few of the stories that were circulated from 
 one to another in the French capital. To complete the poor 
 beauty^s discomfiture, one night at the Opera " the lovely Mrs. 
 Pitt " ' appeared in a box opposite. She wore some arrange- 
 ment of a red veil which increased her beauty so much that 
 the 'parterre rose up in admiration of this real English belle. 
 Lady Coventry's cup being now full, she, according to Mr. 
 Thackeray, quitted Paris in a huff. She would not wait for 
 the grand fete at St. Cloud, nor for the reception at Madame 
 Pompadour's, her lord giving as an excuse that he would miss 
 a music meeting at Worcester. So the pair returned to 
 London somewhat discomfited, but with " new cloaths for 
 the drawing-room." Mrs. Delany saw her that year at a 
 party where the Duke of Portland wore a coat of dark mouse- 
 coloured velvet and a vest of Isabella velvet, and described 
 her as looking in high beauty. We get constant glimpses 
 of husband and wife in that wonderful collection of letters 
 which passed between the partie carree. 
 
 " We eat and drink well, and the earl is in the best of 
 humours," writes Gilly. " He holds a faro bank every night, 
 which we have plundered considerably. There is a certain 
 captain mentioned as studying pretty attitudes for the countess, 
 who is in high spirits," he adds, " and great beauty. You 
 may write to your friends that our London journey will be 
 early this year to meet our sister Grace from Scotland, and 
 that the loss of one child will soon be repaired, God willing, 
 by the birth of another." "^ 
 
 ' Mrs. Pitt's beauty is spoken of in all Memoirs of the time. 
 
 - This piece of information " to be given to friends," has more signi- 
 
Maria, Countess of Coventry. 63 
 
 It is easy to read between the lines of the correspondence, 
 how, by degrees, the husband began to tire of his girl wife. 
 Maria was not a woman likely to hold the affections of a man 
 like Lord Coventry, who was especially fond of his own 
 way and liked to hear himself talk. We can imagine that she 
 laughed in her hoydenish manner at his preachings and teach- 
 ings, and put her fingers on her pretty ears not to listen to 
 his sermons. They were a pair somewhat after the pattern of 
 " Lord and Lady Towneley/' and we can imagine her say- 
 ing, " Lord, my lord, what could I possibly find to do at 
 home ? " ' 
 
 She now added the fashionable vice of gambling to her 
 other distractions. In the days of the Georges cards were a 
 favourite diversion. Everyone played cards ; and Thackeray 
 
 ficance tlian at first appears. From the extracts lately published from 
 the betting book of White's Ohib, it would seem that more than 240L 
 was staked upon which of the sisters should first present her lord with 
 a child. Lord Hobart bet Lord Ducie ten guineas, Mr. Jeffries ten 
 guineas, and Mr. Vane twenty guineas that the Duchess of Hamilton 
 would have a child born alive before Lady Coventry, and Lord Mont- 
 fort bet Lord Hobart twenty guineas to ten guineas that the Duchess 
 of Hamilton or Lady Coventry should have a child born alive before 
 Lady Rockingham. Again on February 25th, 1763, there was a sweep- 
 stakes of one guinea each person, as to which of the following ladies 
 should give birth to a child first : — 
 
 Lord Hobart Lady Coventry. 
 
 Lord Montfort Lady Hilsbury. 
 
 Sir R. Bertie Lady Car Duncannon. 
 
 Mr. Maxwell Lady Di Egerton. 
 
 Lord Montfort then wagered Mr. Maxwell thirty guineas to twenty 
 that either he or Lord Hobart should win the sweepstakes. Mr. Max- 
 well won. 
 
 Lord Montfort was one of the most reckless gamesters. In an early 
 betting book at White's he registered no less than sixty bets amounting 
 to 5000^. The events were entirely of the nature of births, deaths, and 
 marriages. His death came about in the most tragic manner. He had 
 wagered with Sir John Bland a sum of one hundred guineas that Beau 
 Nash, the King of Bath, would outlive Colley Gibber, the once jjopular 
 actor, both men being ill and likely to die ; but underneath the wager 
 there is written in a different handwriting, " Both Lord Montfort and 
 Sir John Bland put an end to their lives before this bet v/as decided." 
 Lord Linden's comment on this awful circumstance was typical of the 
 times. " Well, I am very sorry for Lord Montfort, but it is the part of 
 wise men to make the best of every misfortune. I shall now have the 
 beat cook in England." 
 
 ' The provoked husband. 
 
64 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 says that when we try to recall social England in the last 
 century we must fancy it playing at cards for many hours 
 every day. Even Mrs. Delany, who set herself, or rather I 
 should say was set up as a sort of pattern for all to imitate, 
 held a commerce table for the amusement of the visitors of her 
 friend Mrs. Clayton. Quadrille was the favourite game in 
 George the Second^s time. It was a gambling game, but that 
 was all the better for one of Lady Coventry's spirit. In 1757 
 Lady Elizabeth Walpole writes to the Duke of Bedford : — 
 
 " Pray tell the Duchess of Bedford the height of Lady 
 Coventry's ambition is to play at quadrille, at which she plays 
 four hours a day to be worthy of your parties at your return. 
 She says she likes it immensely and prefers it to all other 
 diversions." 
 
 Lady Coventry was soon proficient enough in quadrille to 
 drop twenty or thirty guineas at a sitting. She was, indeed, 
 a mere butterfly, running here and there in search of 
 pleasure and admiration ; but in all this we must consider 
 her youth and extreme beauty. In 1755, Horace Walpole 
 finds her handsomer than ever, and Mrs. Delany gives a 
 charming picture of the young beauty who was brought 
 by the Duchess of Portland to feast her friend's eyes. And a 
 feast she was. " She has a thousand airs, but with a sort of 
 innocence that diverts one. Her dress was a black silk sack 
 made for a large hoop, which she wore without any, so that it 
 trailed a yard on the ground ; she had a cobweb laced hand- 
 kerchief, a pink satin long cloke lined with ermine mixed with 
 squirrel-skins. On her head a French cap, that just covered 
 the top of it, of blond, standing up in the form of a butterfly, 
 with the wings not quite extended ; frilled sort of lappets 
 crossed under her chin, and tied with pink ribbon — a head- 
 dress that would have charmed a shepherd ! She has a 
 thousand dimples and prettinesses in her cheeks, her eyes a 
 little drooping at the corners, but very fine for all that." 
 
 About this time the Duke of Norfolk gave an entertain- 
 ment especially for her, and danced all the evening with her, 
 " So there was one happy woman for at least two or three 
 hours." 
 
Maria, Cotmtess of Coventry. 65 
 
 A very pretty story is told by the same raconteuse of little 
 Miss Allen, Lady Carysfort's sister, a lively, unsophisticated 
 fairy who had a great desire to see Lady Coventry. At the 
 great masquerade given at Somerset House, this little girl 
 went up to the beauty, who was unmasked, and stared earnestly 
 into her face, then said, " I have heard a great deal of this 
 lady's beauty, but it surpasses what I have heard.'' 
 
 " What ! " cried Lady Coventry with adorable simplicity, 
 " have you never seen me before ? " 
 
 Her original freshness seems never to have deserted her, 
 and, in spite of the amazing amount of homage she received 
 and the admiration her beauty excited, she preserved her good 
 name, which was all the more wonderful as her husband had 
 grown careless about his beautiful wife, or was probably 
 weary of her whims and oddities. She did not, however, 
 escape altogether the censorious tongues of the Sneerwells and 
 Backbites who made up her world, nor was she wise in 
 allowing men of doubtful reputation, such as the Duke of 
 Cumberland and Lord Pembroke, to pay her open attention. 
 Horace Walpole, whose argus eyes nothing escaped, writes to 
 a lady friend : — 
 
 "The Duke of Cumberland has appeared in form in the 
 Causeway in Hyde Park with my Lady Coventry. It is the 
 new office where all lovers now are entered. How happy she 
 must be with Billy and Bully." ' 
 
 This last was Lord Bolingbroke, who was also an ardent 
 admirer of Lady Coventry's. He was young, handsome, 
 devoted, ever at her side, while her husband made the most 
 absurd spectacle of his jealousy, for, although he had ceased 
 to care for her, he was exceedingly mindful of his own 
 honour. He went about talking loudly and consulting friends 
 as to whether he should get a divorce, which, says Walpole, 
 " has put my Lady North into a terrible fright lest Bolingbroke 
 might marry Maria." This inveterate old gossipmonger con- 
 cludes the tale of scandal which he has been writing to 
 his friend at Florence with a boti mot at poor Lady 
 
 * Walpole adds that " Lady Coventry would be stupid enough to call 
 lier admirers by the wrong nicknames.'' 
 
66 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 Coventry's expense. Says be, '^T'other night they danced 
 minuets for the entertainment of the King, George II., who 
 sent for Lady Coventry to dance. If he had offered her a 
 boon she would have asked the head of St. John. I believe 
 1 told you of her passion for Lord Bolingbroke. All the talk 
 and the scandal came, however, soon to an end, as did like- 
 wise Lord Coventry's vapouring as to divorce, for presently 
 Lord Bolingbroke, who was susceptible, fell desperately in 
 love with the lovely Lady Di Spencer, and, marrying her in 
 all haste, set out on a sea of domestic troubles on his own 
 account." ' 
 
 This was in 1757,^ and the desertion of her admirer did not 
 seem to affect Lady Coventry, who was in high beauty and 
 spirits the next season, and of course set the world talking of 
 her. It was said she complained to the old King with whom 
 she was a favourite, that she could not walk in the Park be- 
 cause of the mob who crowded round her, and who, no doubt 
 incited by the silly airs she gave herself, made disrespectful 
 remarks upon her. The King promised to send her a guard 
 to protect her, an honour a more sensible person would have 
 declined. The sequel of the story is well known. The Honour- 
 able Sackville West, another of the gossip tribe, writes off to 
 Lord Nuneham an account of what happened :— 
 
 ''June 20th, 1759. 
 
 " Will it be any news to inform you that last Sunday 
 se'night your friend, Lady Coventry, was mobbed in the Park, 
 
 ' The way in which this marriage was brought about is a type of the 
 manners of the day. The young pair were together at Vauxhall with 
 a large party entertained by the Duke and Duchess of Bedford. The 
 company were teasing Lord Bolingbroke to marry ; he turned quickly 
 upon Lady Diana, and said, — 
 
 " Will you have me ? '' 
 
 " Yes, to be sure," she replied. 
 
 It passed off that night as a joke, but with consideration of the lady's 
 merit, which they say is a great deal, and the persuasion of his friends, 
 be made a serious affair of it, and was accepted. 1500/.a year jointure 
 and 500Z. a year pin money has cast a veil over the past. If he has 
 any sense they may be happy, for he must then see what an absurd 
 figure he has hitherto made, so long the dupe of beauty and folly. 
 
 ^^ It was said her flirtation with Lord Pembroke gave great uneasiness 
 to his lovely wife. The Ambassador of Morocco was also in Maria's 
 train. 
 
Maria, Countess of Coventry. 67 
 
 and that to prevent it, last Sunday twelve sergeants of the 
 guard were ordered to disperse themselves about in case of a 
 riot, and a sergeant and twelve men were ready in case of 
 wanting assistance ? This her ladyship knew, and went to the 
 Park and pretended to be frightened, directly wanted the 
 assistance of the officer on guard, who ordered the twelve ser- 
 geants to march abreast before her, and the sergeant and 
 twelve men behind her ; and in this pomp did this idAot walk 
 all the evening with more mob about her than ever, as you 
 may imagine ; her sensible husband supporting her on one 
 side and Lord Pembroke on the other." 
 
 Walpole too, scribbled off an amusing ballad on the incident, 
 which was handed round amongst his coterie and convulsed 
 the Ladies Ossory, Ailesbury, and the rest of the clique : — 
 
 I sing not of wars nor invasions, 
 
 I tell you a merrier tale, 
 How Fisher ^ and Covey were mad, Sir, 
 
 And sent all the people to jail. 
 But Covey could not bear a rival. 
 
 She thought it a terrible case 
 That first they should gaze on Kate Fisher, 
 
 And then come and stare in her face. 
 " Indeed, if I were but Miss Gunning, 
 
 They might have done just as they chose, 
 But now I am married to Covey, 
 
 They shall not tread on my toes. 
 I'll make my case known to the King, 
 
 The Monarch I know he adores me. 
 And won't suffer any such thing." 
 
 Then straightway to Court she betakes her, 
 " I'm come, Sir, to make my complaint, 
 
 I can't walk in the Park for your subjects. 
 They stare without any restraint. 
 
 Shut, shut up the Park, I beseech you. 
 Lay a tax upon staring so hard. 
 
 Or, if you're afraid to do that, Sir, 
 I'm sure you will grant me a guard." 
 
 The boon thus requested was granted. 
 The warriors were drawn up with care, 
 " With my slaves and my guards I'm surrounded, 
 
 Come, stare at me now, if you dare ! " 
 Tune, " Kitty Fisher's Jig." 
 One cannot help thinking that it was beneath a man of 
 
 * Kitty Fisher, a famous courtesan of the day. She was painted 
 several times by Sir Joshua Reynolds. She shared the admiration of 
 the mob. 
 
 p 2 
 
68 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 Walpole's undoubted ability to thus lampoon a young creature 
 whose vanity was so transparent as to be almost a mania. All 
 through, however, Horace seems to have grudged the Gunnings 
 their success. A petty feeling of jealousy in regard to his 
 own beautiful nieces may have prompted this. All the same, 
 it was unworthy. This year his niece, the lovely Maria, 
 married the Earl of Waldegrave, and poor Lady Coventry 
 (who seems to have been surrounded with persons on the 
 watch to record her frank but singularly foolish admiration 
 of her own beauty) unguardedly said to Lady Anne Conolly 
 that "now she had seen the new beauty she was easy." 
 This was repeated in every drawing-room. 
 
 Her reign was, however, to be a short one. Her follies and 
 the gibes and sneers of an ill-natured world were soon to come 
 to an end. Already she was showing some symptoms of the 
 family disease, consumption, but would take no heed, pursuing 
 her '' boisterous, racketing " life, turning night into day, and 
 adding the fashionable vice of gambling to her other excite- 
 ments. This love of pleasure was, however, the outcome of 
 her malady. In March, 1759, she was looking in high beauty 
 at the Duchess of Hamilton's wedding,* and in November of 
 the same year, she was again in town, and showed George 
 Selwyn (always her kind friend) her new clothes for the 
 drawing-room, blue with spots of silver the size of a shilling, 
 and a silver trimming, " and cost — my lord will know what." 
 She asked Selwyn with her usual simplicity how he liked them, 
 and the wit answered, " Oh ! you will be change for a 
 guinea ! " Neither the beauty and novelty of her blue and 
 silver, nor the white and red raddle which she now used ad 
 libitum — her lord no longer caring what she did — could con- 
 ceal the ravages her fatal illness had already made on her bright 
 loveliness. She looked old, faded, a ghost of her former self. 
 
 In January, 1760, she seems to have made a short rally. 
 Walpole saw her at the trial of Lord Ferrers " in that year, 
 
 ^ Married to Colonel John Campbell. 
 
 " Laurence, 4th Earl Ferrers, although not actually insane, evinced, 
 aS the courteous Burke tells us, strong symptoms of constitutional 
 violence of temper. In one of the paroxysms of rage habitual to him, 
 his lordship killed an old gentleman, Mr. Johnson, who acted as his 
 
Maria, Countess of Coventry . 69 
 
 aud reports, " tliat she surprised her friends by looking as well 
 as ever. I sat next but one to her, and should not have asked 
 her if she had been ill ; yet they are positive she has but a 
 few weeks to live." Then he adds his malevolent sting, " She 
 and Lord Bolingbroke seemed to have different thoughts, and 
 were acting all over again the old comedy of eyes." ^ This was 
 her last appearance in the world which had such keen eyes 
 for her coquetries and foolish want of decorum. This very 
 January she fell seriously ill, but lingered on for some months, 
 as is the course of this fell disease, and was sometimes at the 
 point of death, sometimes recovering. The doctors thought 
 she would not live over the spring, and when that passed, 
 pronounced autumn would be the critical period. 
 
 It must be owned that now that she was actually dying, the 
 world, as seen through Walpole's glasses, seems to have 
 been really concerned, and to have followed the fluctuations 
 of her illness with extraordinary anxiety. In June he 
 writes : " The pretty Countess is still alive, was thought 
 dying on Tuesday night, and I think will go off very soon." 
 
 On August the 8th she nearly verified this prediction. 
 The poor beauty was alone at Crome, where it is probable 
 she spent many lonely days. What sad thoughts she must 
 have had as she lay qn her couch, away from the gay world, 
 where her plaoe was already filled, and where she would 
 never again receive those tributes of admiration which had 
 been so dear to her foolish heart. We must hope she thought 
 of better things. We know that Parson Brooke rode over 
 constantly on his pony to visit her, but it was hard to recon- 
 cile her to die. She was hoping to live on this very 7th of 
 August, when the fatal letter came from her sister, the 
 duchess, to Lord Coventry, who was up in London, where 
 presently a messenger followed him, riding day and night to 
 fetch him back if he wished to say farewell to his dying wife. 
 
 land steward. For this act of " constitutional bad temper " lie was tried 
 by his peers in 1760, and being condemned by them to suffer the extreme 
 penalty of the law, was hung at Tyburn in May of the same year. 
 
 ^ Lord Bolingbroke was much affected when the news of her death 
 reached him. He coiild not bear to hear her name mentioned, and 
 always left the room to hide. Walpole says that he was not crying. 
 
70 Some Celebrated Irish Beattties of Last Centitry. 
 
 She did not, however, die this time. Doctor Wall, the family 
 physician, kept faithful George Selwyn posted up in all the 
 details of the poor lady's illness, making '^no excuse for 
 being minute, because I believe that it would be most agree- 
 able that I should be so." Here we have the whole story 
 set forth in these simple letters, their minuteness being their 
 real attraction — the touch as to '^ using the terms of art " is 
 delightful. 
 
 ^ "Crome, August 8th, 1760. 
 
 " Sir, — I have spent almost all my time at this place since 
 my lord went to London; and, indeed, Lady Coventry has 
 been so extremely ill, so much worse than when you saw her 
 last, that she wanted all the attendance I could give her. 
 For two or three days the oppression on her breast and the 
 sickness at her stomach were excessive; but these were at 
 last happily removed by some medicines, which, indeed, 
 operated a little roughly; but it was a necessary severity, 
 for she could not have lived without it. She has now for 
 two or three days complained of a pain in her side and 
 across the breast, which I look upon to be muscular, and a 
 sort of spasmodic rheumatism. Excuse me for using terms 
 of art, but I don't know how to express myself without them. 
 Her pulse, notwithstanding this, has for three days last past 
 been very remarkably slower, her feverish heats less than 
 usual. She is extremely weak. Yesterday morning a letter 
 came from the Duchess of Hamilton, directed for Lord 
 Coventry. She knew the hand, and unluckily opened it. 
 " Hinc illse lachrymse ! 
 
 " The duchess had too plainly explained her sentiments of 
 Lady Coventry's condition ; had lamented her as a sister 
 whom she should never see; had entirely given her up, 
 expressing her concern as for one already in the grave. 
 
 " You, who know how apt Lady Coventry is to be affected, 
 may easily conceive the anguish which such a letter would 
 occasion. Indeed, it did almost kill her. I was called to 
 her, and found her almost fainting and dying away. How- 
 
 * Crome seems to have been the old spelling of the word, therefore I 
 have not altered it where it appears. 
 
Alaria^ Countess of Coventry. ji 
 
 ever, she soon after recovered, and I took my leave ; but 
 after I was gone the same scene was several times renewed. 
 Her attendants thought her expiring. In their hurry they 
 despatched an express to my lord, who, I suppose, will, in 
 consequence of that, be here this evening. However, she 
 has had a very good night, and is tolerably well this 
 morning/-' 
 
 The improvement seems to have continued, for in Sep- 
 tember there were hopes of her recovery, and Walpole writes 
 hopefully of her condition to General Conway, who had a 
 sincere regard for the countess. " She may yet appear as 
 your Roxana," he says.^ 
 
 There was, however, no chance of her ever appearing 
 again on the stage where she had played so brilliant a part. 
 The hopes of recovery were speedily dashed, and the end 
 drew rapidly near. It is painful to read how, at this last 
 dread moment, her vanity, the master-passion of her life, 
 came to the front, although in this, as in many other incidents 
 of her life, there is probably an amount of exaggeration in 
 the tradition of Lady Coventry's last moments. As a 
 matter of fact, the story of her keeping the pocket glass 
 under her pillow, and watching the change in her face all 
 day long, has never had any authenticity, but it has, how- 
 ever, marks of truth from the internal evidence of her 
 character ; from long habit she had grown to regard looks 
 as the first object, and even in our more enlightened 
 generation we will find many women who hold the same 
 opinion. Years previously Pope had depicted a similar scene 
 to the one said to have been enacted round Lady Coventry's 
 death-bed. 
 
 " Odious in woollen ! 'twould a saint provoke," 
 Were the last words that Narcissa spoke. 
 • " No ; let a charming chintz and Brussels lace 
 Wrap my cold limbs and shade my lifeless face ; 
 One icould not sure he frigJitfid when one's dead, 
 And, Betty, give this cheek a little red.'' 
 
 And thus the end came. She died October 1st, 1760, 
 being twenty-nine years of age. 
 
 * General Conway was planning private theatricals. 
 
72 So}iie Celebrated Irish BemUies of Last Century. 
 
 It has been always the prevailing idea that Lady Coventry's 
 death was, if not actually caused, hastened by the profuse 
 use, which like all fashionable women of her day, she made 
 of cosmetics. Those who lived in her time seemed to have 
 been persuaded of this fact. Mrs. Delany, who was not very 
 devoted to the pretty creature, writes shortly before her 
 death : — 
 
 " What a wretched end Lady Coventry makes after her 
 short-lived reign of beauty. Not contented with the extra- 
 ordinary share Providence has bestowed upon her, she pre- 
 sumptuously and vainly thought to mend it, and by that means, 
 they say, has destroyed her life, for Doctor Taylor says the 
 white she made use of for her neck and face was rank poison." 
 One who is very nearly connected with her has, however, 
 contradicted this statement. Lady Russell,' writing to the 
 author, says, '"It is a popular fallacy that Lady Coventry 
 died from the use of cosmetics. She died, as did her sister 
 (Lizzy)" and the young Duke of Hamilton, from consumption." 
 This disease was, no doubt, in the family. Several of John 
 Gunning's sisters had died of it, and the Duchess of Argyll 
 showed symptoms of it after Lady Coventry's death ; but 
 this fact ought to have been an additional reason for caution, 
 as in such cases the danger of introducing white lead into the 
 system is intensified. I am afraid, taking into account the 
 prevailing fashion and the vanity of poor Maria, one cannot 
 quite acquit her of injuring her health in more ways than one. 
 Lady Coventry had been married only eight years and a 
 few months ; years of feverish excitement, triumph, admira- 
 tion, mixed with much domestic unhappiness, ending in 
 estrangement from her husband. She must have felt his 
 coldness, for she was of an affectionate disposition and easily 
 touched by kindness. It may be remembered that when the 
 fortune-teller in Dublin prophesied the greater fortune that 
 was to come to Elizabeth, Maria was consoled by being 
 
 ^ Lady Russell's grandmother, Lady Charlotte Bury, nije Campbell, was 
 the second daughter of John, Duke of Argyle, and Elizabeth Gunning. 
 
 - Lizzy, whose beauty excelled that of her sisters, died in Dublin, 
 175L 
 
Maria, Cotintess of Coventry. 72> 
 
 assured "that lier husband would love her." That this 
 prophecy failed of its promise was possibly her own fault, 
 her whims and follies wearing out her lord's patience. 
 Still, allowance should have been made for so youn^ a creature, 
 exposed as she was, without any previous training, to so 
 many temptations ; neither were her follies the outcome of a 
 bad heart. Her parents (especially her father) loved her 
 more than their other children, and her husband's intimate 
 friends showed a loyalty to her memory which is a strong 
 testimony in her favour. The world, generally ill-natured to 
 the dead, had not a harsh word to say of her, and even 
 Walpole has a touch of feeling at the end of his pen, as he 
 records that "the charming countess is dead at last; she 
 was only twenty- seven." The Eev. Richard Mason, one of 
 the Strawberry Hill clique, wrote a beautiful monody on 
 Maria's death, which the sentimentalists of the time repeated 
 with handkerchiefs to their eyes. The lines in which he 
 describes her peculiar loveliness are singularly happy : — 
 
 Yes ! Coventry is dead. Attend the strain, 
 
 Daughters of Albion ! ye that, light as air. 
 So oft have tripp'd in her fantastic train, 
 
 With hearts as gay, and faces half as fair. 
 For she was fair beyond your brightest bloom 
 
 (This Envy owns, since now her bloom is fled) ; 
 Fair as the forms that, wove in Fancy's loom, 
 
 Float in light vision round the poet's head. 
 Whene'er with soft serenity she smiled, 
 
 Or caught the orient blush of quick surprise. 
 How sweetly mutable, how brightly ivild 
 
 The liquid lustre darted frovi her eyes ! 
 Each look, each motion waked a new-born grace, 
 
 That o'er her form a transient glory cast ; 
 Some lovelier wonder soon usurped the place. 
 
 Chased by a charm still lovelier than the last. 
 
 That bell again ! It tells us what she is ; 
 
 On what she was no more the strain prolong ; 
 Luxuriant Fancy, pause ; an hour like this 
 
 Demands the tribute of a serious song. 
 Maria claims it from that sable bier, 
 
 Where, cold and wan, the slumberer rests her head ; 
 In still small whispers to Reflection's ear 
 
 She breathes the solemn dictates of the dead. 
 
 She left three children, two girls and a boy, the eldest, 
 
74 So7ne Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 Lady Anne, being seven at the time of her mother's death. 
 She was an object of the greatest interest to that strange 
 being, George Selwyn, whose character presents such a bundle 
 of contradictions, a passionate love of children going hand in 
 hand with a revolting desire to witness the sufferings of dying 
 criminals. The letters that passed between him and Gilly 
 Williams on the subject of Lady Coventry's motherless chil- 
 dren show both men in the most amiable light, and prove 
 that, despite their frivolous mode of life, they had feeling 
 hearts. 
 
 *' Your child Nanny," writes Gilly, " is all the better for the 
 sea air. The little boy has just come up to school, and says 
 his sister is the admiration of the place. This you will believe, 
 although the father neither knows nor cares anything about 
 it." When Nanny had the chicken-pox and violent inflamma- 
 tion in her eyes, they were all anxiety lest her beauty should 
 be spoiled, and Gilly confided to Selwyn his suspicion that the 
 fault lay with the stamina of our dear friend, " her children have 
 not had one hour's health since I have known them." In 1763 
 he writes that Lord Coventry has returned to town, and talks 
 of setting out for France : — " his errand is to buy furni- 
 ture, to talk of tapestry and glasses, and to pay for import- 
 ing worse things than an English courier would have helped 
 him to. He told us last night his estate is worth £10,000 
 a year with a debt of fifty. I suppose you would be willing 
 to add to the incumbrance for your little girl. I have sent 
 them the dolls, and their father visits them on Friday. They 
 are both better for the sea water; but," he adds, "I look 
 upon his visit to have been as much out of form as affection, 
 and, having satisfied the pubhc, he leaves the rest to Almighty 
 God. Nanny is looking remarkably handsome, but their 
 father never lets them see any other children, though there 
 are some of their own condition." All through the corre- 
 spondence there is this ring of honest indignation against the 
 father's neglect. What a stir and commotion took place when 
 it became known that his lordship contemplated a second 
 marriage, which, considering he was a young man and four 
 years a widower, was a matter to create no surprise. His 
 
Maj'ia^ Cotmtess of Coventry. 75 
 
 choice likewise was a suitable one. Gilly, liowever, writes in 
 all excitement to break the news to George Selwyn, at that 
 time on his travels : — 
 
 "Jnly 30th, 1864. 
 " My deae Geoege, — This packet brings very serious advice 
 indeed. I received a notification in form last night that 
 Nanny would soon have to bow the knee to Bab St. John ^ 
 as her mother-in-law. God grant this woman may have 
 long life, or the poor children will have more odd uncles, 
 aunts and cousins than any people of their condition in 
 Europe. I shall see him in a few days and hear more particu- 
 lars, but I was not willing this ship should sail without your 
 knowing as much as I do." 
 
 The marriage was altogether a strange affair, having some- 
 what of the same embarrassment that accompanied that of 
 the Duke of Hamilton to Elizabeth Gunning. *'An odd 
 event," writes a lady to her son, " happened the day they were 
 to have been married. His lordship had not got a license ; 
 they were at Lady St. John's house in the country — my lord 
 was obliged to come up to Doctors' Commons to swear to his 
 own age and that of Miss St. John, and then to send to Lam- 
 beth for the license. Unfortunately his Grace was not at 
 home. So it was agreed that they had better eat the dinner 
 rather than that it should be spoilt, so to dinner they went 
 and sat all the afternoon dressed in their white and silver, 
 expecting every moment an express from Lambeth. But 
 nothing came. The same reason held good for eating a 
 supper as for eating the dinner, and, in short, they supped and 
 sat till two, and then by mutual consent dismissed the parson, 
 and all retired. About four in the morning the license came , 
 but they were not married until mid-day.^' 
 
 Gilly, of course, has his word to say about the pair, and 
 writes full details to his Fidus Achates, Selwyn, who was 
 abroad still : — 
 
 " My deae Geoege, — You may talk as you please of what 
 
 ^ Barbara, daughter to John, tenth Lord St. John, of Bletso. 
 
76 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century, 
 
 you have seen and heard since we parted, but I would not 
 have given up my last night's supper for the whole put to- 
 gether. The earl brought his new countess to Margaret 
 Street. You know him so well that I daresay you are per- 
 fectly master of his words and actions on such an occasion; 
 and as for her ladyship, it was all prettiness, fright, insipidity, 
 question and answer, which neither gold stuffs, diamonds, a 
 new chair with a very large coronet in the centre, like the 
 Queen's — neither of these, I say, had power to alter ; and as 
 my friend was never cut out for decent and matrimonial 
 gallantry, a very awkward air made them both as entertain- 
 ing a couple as ever I passed an evening with. They are to 
 be introduced at Court next Sunday. The King has told him 
 she was the wisest, prudentest, handsomest -of women. And 
 they go to Crome next day." 
 
 The King proved himself in the right, the new countess 
 making an excellent wife and mother. She came of a good 
 family, had a slender provision and much prettiness. Wal- 
 pole says, *^ She was elevated above the first countess for a 
 few weeks and then, with equal injustice, placed infinitely 
 below her. At Saturday's opera,^' he goes on, " she didn't 
 make near noise enough, but sat quite private and pale 
 faced." Poor bride. . . with the eyes of the world of 
 fashion upon her. She was in poor health besides, and Gilly 
 notices she has a cough and " expects old Brookes will be 
 trotting over with a prayer-book in his hand.''^ This was when 
 he dined with her at the Duchess of Argyll's, who affected a 
 tear at the sound of her voice. ^' Coventry has given us one 
 dinner at Margaret Street, and has been most excellent in his 
 old way of disputation ; he has bought Sir Henry Hunlock's 
 house in Piccadilly for ten thousand pounds." 
 
 In another letter we hear of Mrs. Gunning, who was now get- 
 ting old. She had a comfortable sinecure as housekeeper of 
 Somerset House, a good appointment procured for her by one 
 of her noble sons-in-law. " I met mother Gunning " says Gilly, 
 " in Soho. She told me although she could not go to see tlie 
 woman she would be glad to see the children, and desired me 
 tell Lord C. so. . . It is feared old Gunning will die, and defeat 
 
Maria, Cottniess of Coventry. yj 
 
 all the finery smuggled by the eai'l and countess for the next 
 birthday." 
 
 The mention of the children recalls his account of their 
 reception of their new mamma. 
 
 " You will certainly want to know how the children relish 
 their new relation. I will give you a trait of Nanny that 
 pleased me. When mademoiselle broke it to them, Maria 
 cried, and the little one said : ' Do not cry, sister. If she is 
 civil to us, we will be civil to her; if not, you know, we can 
 sit up in our own rooms, and take no notice of her.' There 
 is a degree of philosophy in this infant that I do not think 
 age can improve." 
 
 Nanny, in spite of her philosophy, " seemed as much 
 frightened as when she was delivered over to mademoiselle 
 from Kitty. I wish she may fall into as good hands, for I 
 believe Mdlle. Le Comte's * reign is short — he has already told 
 me her French is impure, and her orthography worse." 
 
 After their first introduction, the children were sent to 
 Brighthelmstowe, with Gilly to look after them, for he writes 
 complaining to Selwyn of the father's coldness, '' he leaves 
 them to Providence, and me — but at the end of the month 
 they are to go with their stepmother to Crome," whither 
 their kind friend accompanied them, and has left a really 
 diverting account of his visit. 
 
 " I like," he says, " the behaviour of the children much, 
 and likewise the propriety of Bab's behaviour to them ; but 
 you would have laughed to have seen what a hearty kiss the 
 little one would often give mademoiselle (their governess), as 
 looking upon her as the only real friend she had in the 
 family. . . Of the new Madam there is no possibility of saying 
 more at present, than that she is very pretty — the rest is all 
 grimace. But as to his lordship, he certainly surpasses all 
 you can conceive of him ; his plantations, his house, his wife, 
 his plate, equipages, etc., etc., are all topics that call forth his 
 genius continually. We went to church with them, and the 
 curiosity of all the neighbouring parishes would not have dis- 
 pleased you. I thought I could hear among the crowd some 
 \ The children's governess. 
 
78 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Centriry. 
 
 odious comparisons, and these were all in favour of our old 
 friend who lies very quietly in the neighbourhood. I do not 
 love to deal in horoscopes, but his lordship will certainly tire 
 of this plaything as he has done of all he has hitherto played 
 with, and be plagued with the noise of the rattle when he is 
 no longer pleased with blowing the whistle. He means to 
 instruct, by lectures in his table talk, and by drawing 
 pictures of good and bad wives ; you know how he succeeded 
 in his last. God grant him better success in his present 
 plans." 
 
 This pious wish was fulfilled ; the new Countess succeeded 
 perfectly in that wherein the other had failed. She made her 
 husband happy, '^although she was a most unworthy successor 
 to the bustle and uproar which followed the name in the first 
 venture." After a few years Gilly declares he likes her better 
 and better every hour " I am with her. Indeed, she is the 
 best thing in petticoats I ever saw in my life." To the 
 childi'en of her predecessor she was only too kind, for they 
 had inherited the high temper of the Gunnings. Judicious 
 restraint would have been of use. They, especially Nanny, 
 grew more ungovernable from want of contradiction. Even 
 Gilly has to report unfavourably to Selwyn of his favourite. 
 
 " Nanny grows so intolerably passionate that I wish, some 
 time or other, she may not hurt her sister. She constantly 
 throws the cards in her face if she is not satisfied with her 
 hand, as if she were the daughter of the Bishop of London. 
 Pray send her some serious admonition, her spirit is much 
 beyond that of her late Mamma's. There is seldom a night 
 that she does not fight us all round ; the very last night she 
 hit me a box on the ear, and told her good-natured stepmother 
 not to be so impertinent as to trouble her head about her. 
 Her father talks to her out of Halifax's advice to his 
 daughters, which God knows comes too early in the day for 
 our comprehension, so I fear she will be outdone before she 
 knows she is to blame." 
 
 And yet this same little termagant had a kind heart. Here 
 is a letter of hers which her friend, George Selwyn, preserved 
 as a proof of her fine disposition. 
 
LADY ANXE FOLEY. 
 
 ITo face page 1^. 
 
Maria, Countess of Coventry. 79 
 
 '' March 4tli, 1770. 
 *' My dear Nurse, — This is the only opportunity I have of 
 writing you a line to let you know we are all well. I am 
 sorry I have not time to write a line to your poor Polly. My 
 love to her, and tell her I shall not forget her when I grow 
 up. I will remember you likewise you may depend upon it. 
 I long to see you, but longing will not do. I had not time to 
 write to you that time you went to Mr. Burgess. He told me 
 you were very well. If I can know in two or three days how 
 you are, I shall be contented, so adieu, 
 
 " I am your ever-loving friend, 
 
 "Anne Coventry. 
 "To Mrs. Shelton at the Earl of March, 
 " Piccadilly/' 
 
 Poor little Lady Anne, spoiled on one hand, lectured on the 
 other, her life fulfilled Grilly Williams' prophecy. She married, 
 when only seventeen, Colonel Foley, butj soon afterwards 
 was divoi'ced and re-married to Captain Samuel Wright. She 
 died in 1784. . . . 
 
 As Thackeray says, " Poor painted mother, poor children ! '■* 
 
ELIZABETH, DUCHESS OF HAMILTON AND 
 ARGYLL. 
 
 BoEN 1732, Died 1791. 
 
 The record of this woman's life presents a most unusually 
 even run of good fortune, which stands out in singular con- 
 trast to the strangely different fate of her less fortunate sister. 
 These contrasts are often to be met with, and although 
 we believe all events of importance are regulated by Provi- 
 dence, still we cannot but observe, in considering the 
 accidents which have either marred or made the fortune of 
 those who have journeyed along the road we are now 
 travelling, how very much their own actions and mode of 
 treating the opportunities given them are allowed to influence 
 their success in life. 
 
 Elizabeth was cast in a totally different mould from Maria. 
 Those who knew her in the flesh may not have cared for her 
 in the same degree. We who look at her from a long way off, 
 cannot but feel infinitely more respect for her fine character : 
 it surmounted the same defects of education and early 
 training which Maria never made any effort to supply. 
 
 We get only occasional glimpses of her Grace during the 
 short period of her first marriage. After her elevation to the 
 rank of Duchess she seems to have taken very little share in 
 the doings of the gay world, but to have lived mostly in 
 Scotland, showing, in this, wonderful wisdom in withdrawing 
 her rakish husband from the attractions of town life. In 
 1755 she accompanied the Duke on a visit to Ireland, remain- 
 ing some time in Dublin, where they put up at the Eagle 
 
Elizabeth, Dtichess of Hajuilton and Argyll. 8i 
 
 Tavern,' Cork Hill, the approaches to which were rendered 
 impassable by the vast crowds thronging to see tbeir beautiful 
 countrywoman, whose attractions had caused such a sensation 
 in England. It must have been a curious feeling for the 
 Duchess, returning in such an exalted position to the place 
 wherein she had suffered so many buffets of ill fortune. 
 Under such conditions, however, the human mind is very 
 elastic, and, especially in youth, accustoms itself easily to 
 altered circumstances. 
 
 In their Highland home the Duke and Duchess kept up 
 almost regal state. " They walk in to dinner," says Walpole, 
 " before their company, sit together at the upper end of their 
 own table, eat off the same plate, and driuk to nobody beneath 
 the rank of an Earl. Would you not wonder,'^ he adds, 
 ''how they would get anyone either below or above that rank 
 to dine with them ? " 
 
 After six years of this royal state the Duke died (1758) 
 leaving his duchess, a beautiful and well-endowed widow, with 
 two baby sons to carry on the ducal line, and one daughter. 
 Before her year of widowhood was out Elizabeth was surrounded 
 with suitors, her " very proper behaviour" conducing as much 
 to the admiration she excited as did her beauty, which had in- 
 creased rather than diminished. She had her choice of titled 
 husbands, the Duke of Bridgwater being madly in love with 
 her."* Her second marriage was, however, evidently dictated 
 as much by affection as by ambition. It was no bad stroke of 
 luck to secure a man she could love as she did Colonel John 
 Campbell,^ and who moreover, was heir to a Dukedom, thus 
 
 ' The Eagle Tavern on Cork Hill was the home of that strange in- 
 stitution, the Hell Fire Club. It has been sometimes doubted if this 
 ever had any existence. The report however, of the Lords' Committee 
 dealing with it, which is to be found in Madden's periodical Irish 
 literature, is convincing. From this report we learn that the club was 
 not invented by a native, but was due to one Peter Lens, a German or 
 Dutch artist. 
 
 ■" The Duke made it a condition that all intercourse with Lady 
 Coventry should he at an end ; to this the Duchess would not agree, and 
 the marriage was broken off. — " Nat. Biography." 
 
 ^ Colonel Campbell was the eldest son of Mr. Campbell of Mamure, 
 who in 1761 succeeded Archibald, 3rd Duke of Argyll, as 4th Duke. 
 His mother was the famous beauty, Mary Bellenden, maid of honour to 
 Caroline of Auspalle. — " Douglas's Scottish Peerage." 
 
82 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 fulfilling the fortune-teller's prophecy. Elizabeth's sense 'of 
 propriety would not, however, allow her to make her lover 
 happy until more than the full year of mourning had expired. 
 Her wedding did not take place until the summer of 1759. 
 " It is a match," writes Walpole, " which would not disgrace 
 Arcadia. Her beauty has made sufficient noise, and in some 
 people's eyes has even impi'oved. He has a most pleasing 
 countenance, person and manner, and like the antediluvian 
 lovers they reconcile the great houses of Hamilton and Camp- 
 bell, and all this brought about by a Gunning ! " 
 
 From this remark, it is evident Walpole adhered to his idea 
 as to the inferior tap of the Gunnings ; indeed all through 
 his life he seems to have had a latent grudge against 
 that family. Later on we find him writing to Sir David 
 Dalrymple in another tone : " I don't doubt but in Scotland 
 you approve what is liked here almost as well as Robertson's 
 History. I mean the marriage of Colonel Campbell and the 
 Duchess of Hamilton ; if her fortune is singular so is her 
 merit ; such uncommon noise as her beauty has made has not 
 at all impaired the modesty of her behaviour." We must 
 remember that here he was writing to a Scotchman. In his 
 correspondence with his Jidus achates, General Conway, he 
 lets out his real sentiments : ** It is the prettiest match in the 
 world since yours, and everybody likes it but the Duke 
 of Bridgwater and Lord Coventry. What an extraordinary 
 fate is attached to these two women. For my part I expect 
 to see Lady Coventry Queen of Prussia ? I would not venture 
 to marry either of them for these thirty years, for fear of 
 being shuffled out of the world prematurely to make room for 
 the rest of their adventures. The first time Jack carries the 
 Duchess to the Highlands I am persuaded some of his second- 
 sighted subjects will see him in his winding-sheet with a train 
 of Kings behind him as long as those in Macbeth.'^ 
 
 This caustic although pleasantly put piece of writing was 
 not a correct prophecy. Poor Lady Coventry instead of being 
 Queen of Prussia was, as we know, at the very time of writing, 
 beginning her descent towards her grave, while '^ Jack " sur- 
 vived his Duchess many years. She had undoubtedly pro- 
 
Elizabeth, Dztchess of Hamilton and Argyll. 83 
 
 longed the life of lier first disreputable spouse, and now made 
 as good a wife to an excellent husband. Their marriage was 
 eminently successful^ the Duchess's conduct being remarkable 
 throughout for great good sense, than which there can- 
 not be a better possession. Unlike poor silly Maria, she 
 gave no reason for the ill-natured to throw any malicious 
 stones at her, and if in her advanced age such malicious throw- 
 ing was attempted, it fell very short of its object. 
 
 She bore her honours meekly enough, although in her in- 
 most soul there must have been a tumult of exultation as she 
 took her place in the front rank of Peeresses at the Corona- 
 tion ceremony,^ which poor Lady Coventry had so desired to 
 witness. " She looked,'' said an eye-witness, " the picture of 
 majestic modesty." 
 
 Her sister's death was keenly felt by her. They had never 
 lost their affection for one another. Report said that the 
 Duchess was likewise attacked by the fatal disease, which it 
 seemed was hereditary. Walpole writes to Sir Horace Mann, 
 1760: "The Duchess of Hamilton is in consumption, and 
 going abroad ; perhaps you may see the remains of these pro- 
 digies — you will see but little remains. Her features were 
 never so beautiful as Lady Coventry's, and she has long been 
 changed, though not yet six-and- twenty. The other was but 
 twenty-seven." 
 
 The Duchess, however, recovered both her health and her 
 good looks. We hear of her at the time of the Wilkes' and 
 Liberty riots, when the excited mob, triumphant at their 
 champion's victory, paraded the streets at night, ordering every- 
 one to illuminate their windows in honour of the popular can- 
 didate's return as Member of Parliament. The Duchess was 
 at Argyll House expecting her confinement. Lord Lome 
 was absent, so she was alone, but her haughty spirit would 
 not bend to the orders of any mob. She obstinately refused to 
 allow a light in the windows. The crowd, furious at this 
 
 ' Another lionour is said to have been conferred upon the Duchess by 
 selecting her to accompany the Princess Charlotte on her journey to 
 England on the occasion of her marriage to George III. This, however, 
 would seem to be a mistake, as it was ilie Duchess of Argyll who was 
 chosen for the office. 
 
84 So77ie Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 aristocrat's contumacy, brought crowbars to force the iron 
 gates, which had been shut to keep them out. They tore down 
 the I'ailings, and forced an entrance. Still she would not give 
 in. They battered at the house for three hours. The key of 
 the back door could not be found, so no help could be sent for. 
 The troops, however, at last arrived, and saved the situation. 
 This was of course sheer obstinacy on her Grace's part, and 
 highly imprudent, as the consequences might have been serious, 
 as once the mob had scored a success, their appetite for 
 plunder would have increased ; to say nothing of the risk to 
 herself in the situation in which she then was. 
 
 The duke succeeded to his father in 1770, eleven years 
 after his marriage with the duchess. During these years 
 many of her old ties had been severed by death. She had 
 lost her sister, Lady Coventry, her father and mother, and 
 also her eldest son, the young Duke of Hamilton, who had 
 succumbed to the family malady. 
 
 From this time she resided principally in Scotland. One 
 of the most pleasant incidents in Boswell's delightful tour 
 through the Hebrides is the account of his and Dr. Johnson's 
 visit to Inverary Castle, Boswell, who had good reasons for 
 thinking Duchess Elizabeth disliked him,^ was still anxious to 
 get himself and his august friend invited by the duke, so 
 accordingly waited upon his Grace at the moment when he 
 supposed the ladies would have i*etired from dinner. Having 
 received an invitation for the following day, he was about 
 retiring when the duke said, " Mr. Boswell, won't you have 
 some tea? '^ " I thought it best to get over the meeting with 
 the duchess, so respectfully agreed. I was conducted to the 
 drawing-room by the duke, who announced my name, but the 
 duchess, who was sitting with her daughter, Lady Betty Hamil- 
 ton, and some other ladies, took not the least notice of me. I 
 
 ^ Her dislike to Boswell was based on the share he had taken in the 
 celebrated Douglas cause, which excited the attention of Europe. The 
 claim of Lord Archibald Stewart, son to Lady Jane Douglas, was dis- 
 puted by the Duke of Hamilton. The Duchess, who supported her son's 
 claim, went to Paris in 1763 to collect evidence. Horace Walpole says 
 the French thought her no beauty, and had the bad taste to admire the 
 Duchess of Ancaster. 
 
Elizabeth^ Duchess of Hainiltoii and Argyll . 85 
 
 should have been mortified at being thus coldly received by a 
 lady of whom I, with the rest of the world, have always enter- 
 tained a very high admiration, had I not been consoled by 
 the obliging attention of the duke/' He then goes on to 
 give an account of the next day's entertainment where Dr. 
 Johnson was an honoured guest and in excellent humour. 
 He was placed at table next the duke, and the duchess made 
 much of him, so did Lady Betty Hamilton (her daughter b}* 
 the first marriage), who, like many girls, was attracted by the 
 elephantine graces of the sage. She brought her chair close 
 to his, listening eagerly to all he said. Boswell relates his 
 own mortifications in his usual frank manner. '' I was in 
 fine spirits, and, though sensible that I had the misfortune of 
 not being in favour with the duchess, I was not in the least 
 disconcerted, and offered her Grace some of the dish that 
 was before me. ... I knew it was the rule of modern high 
 life not to drink to anybody, but that I might have the satis- 
 faction for once to look the duchess in the face with a glass 
 in my hand, I, with a respectful air, addressed her : * My 
 Lady Duchess, I have the honour to drink your Grace's 
 good health.' " He adds that he repeated the words audibly 
 and with a steady countenance, but he does not tell us with 
 what countenance the duchess received the attention. The 
 only words she addressed to him were when on making some 
 observation on second sight she said, '' You will be a 
 Methodist," the use of the verb betraying her early training, 
 as it is common phrase in the west of Ireland. Boswell 
 makes allowance for his hostess's rudeness in consideration 
 of the warm part he had taken in the Douglas cause, but he 
 confesses that the manner in which she said to Dr. Johnson 
 '' / linow nothing of Mr. Boswell," was too severe. When, 
 however, he recollected that his punishment was inflicted 
 by so dignified a beauty, he had " that kind of consolation 
 which a man would feel who is strangled by a silken cord ! " 
 
 In 1773 Lady Betty Hamilton ^ was married at Argyll 
 House to Lord Stanley, heir to the title and large estates 
 
 ' Elizabeth Hamilton, only daughter of James, sixth Duke of Hamil- 
 ton and Brandon, born 1753. 
 
86 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Centitry. 
 
 of the Earl of Derby, his grandfather^ then in his eighty-fifth 
 year. 
 
 The festivities on the occasion were almost regal in their 
 magnificence. At Lord Stanley's seat in Surrey, The Oaks, 
 &fete champetre was given on the 9th June, a fortnight pre- 
 vious to the wedding, which caused a sensation in fashionable 
 circles. The entertainment is elaborately described in the 
 Gentlemait's Magazine as being the first of the kind given 
 in England.' 
 
 The festivities began early, the afternoon being employed 
 by guests in sauntering on the lawn and witnessing a pastoral 
 scene on a stage improvised on the grass. When it was dark 
 the masque of " The Maid of the Oak," composed for the 
 occasion by General Burgoyne (Lord Stanley's uncle by 
 marriage),^ was led by Lord Stanley, supported by Lady 
 Betty Hamilton, the Queen of the Oak, and Miss Stanley, 
 the rest of the company following two and two through the 
 beautiful octagon hall with transparent windows painted 
 suitably to the occasion. At the end of the great room hung 
 six superb curtains of crimson satin with gold fringe, supposed 
 to cover the same number of windows. Colonnades appeared 
 on each side of the room, with wreaths of flowers running up 
 the columns. The whole building was lined, chair-back high, 
 with white Persian and gold fringe. Here the company 
 amused themselves by dancing minuets and cotillons com- 
 
 ' All the arrangements were under the supervitjion of those wonderful 
 artists, the Adam brothers, who may, with justice, be called the uni- 
 versal providers of their time. 
 
 ^ Colonel, afterwards General, Burgoyne, had run away with Charlotte, 
 daughter to the eleventh Earl of Derby. In 1777 he commanded the 
 British army in America, and was afterwards made commander-in- 
 ehief of the army in Ireland. Horace Walpole says that after the great 
 people had enjoyed General Burgoyne's composition, " The Maid of 
 the Oak " was dished up by Garrick at Drury Lane in the following 
 November; it had only a short run. Another play written by the 
 gallant general was more successful. The fete at The Oaks was made 
 the subject of two pictures painted on panels by Antonio Zucchi in 
 Lord Derby's house in Grosvenor Square which was built and decorated 
 by Kobert Adam. The pictures are now at Knowsley Park. The 
 principal figures are portraits, the two entering the supper room and 
 leading the dance being unquestionably Lord Stanley and Lady 
 Betty Hamilton. — From the Knowsley Catalogue. 
 
Elizabeth, Duchess of Hmnilton and Argyll. 87 
 
 posed by the Earl of Kelly. Lord Stanley, iu the costume of 
 " Reubens," and Lady Betty as "Reubens' wife," opened the 
 ball, and the rest of the nobility danced in their turns, until 
 supper, wbicli was served at half-past eleven, when an ex- 
 plosion, similar to a large number of rockets going off, put 
 the whole lively group into consternation. 
 
 After supper the masque of ^' The Glory of the Oak '' was 
 presented to the company. A Druid of the Oak, personated 
 by Captain Pigott, summoned fauns and wood-nymphs to 
 attend the ceremony. These then entered, led by Cupids and 
 Sylvans, and sang a grand chorus, and the whole concluded 
 with a device in transparency with two hymeneal torches 
 lighted on the top, and a shield representing the Hamilton 
 crest (an oak with a saw through it) and a ducal coronet. 
 
 George Selwyn, who was present, and who evidently 
 thought the whole thing a bore, says it appeared to him as 
 if Colonel Burgoyne had planned it and Lord Stanley had 
 paid for it. The Druids, he adds, had Lord March for their 
 speaker, which " ffame says was not very desent." As we 
 may imagine, the fete gave plenty of food for talk and 
 gossip to the world of " Powder and Patches," which 
 was even more ill-natured than our world of Belgravia, 
 and did not relish such homage to be paid to other than 
 themselves, and that other " Betty Gunning's daughter ; " so 
 they called the fete a splash made to mortify a certain young 
 lady who had shown the bad taste to reject Lord Stanley 
 only a few weeks previously. " All the world was there," 
 writes that funny old lady, the Dowager Lady Gower, " except 
 the Bloomsbury lot, who that old hoyden,, the Duchess of 
 Bedford, would not let go, or go herself, I suppose, because of 
 his recovering her niece's rejection so soon." ^ Horace Wal- 
 pole hears the entertainment will cost five thousand pounds, 
 and remarks with a sneer that Lord Stanley has bought all 
 the orange trees round London, and supposes hay-cocks will be 
 
 ' Lady Gower wiis a most pleasant letter writer. She possessed won* 
 derful vitality, continuing to ride wlien over seventy years of age. 
 She was sister-in-law to the Duchess of Bedford, and no love was lost 
 between the ladies. 
 
SS Some Celebrated Irish' Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 made of straw-coloured satin. Gentle Mrs. Delany has nothing 
 but praise for everything and everybody. People, she says, in 
 "general wore costume and were elegantly dressed, but not 
 masked, the vei'y young were attired as peasants, the next 
 in age as Polonaise (?), the matrons and men in dominoes ; 
 but some of the latter were disguised as gardiners (surely a 
 simple make up)." The affair would seem to have been too 
 long, and must have engendered a certain weariness ; and for 
 the young Lady Betty, the principal performer in the show, 
 it was heavy work. The Duke of Argyll said, " nothing but 
 Betty could have stood it," and one is inclined to agree with 
 this definition of the day's amusement. It was reported the very 
 following morning that Lord Stanley's match was off, the lady 
 disliking him. " Sure," says Lady Gower, '' she should have 
 known her mind before she accepted ye entertainment." 
 Whether there was any truth in this bit of gossip or not, 
 we only know that the wedding took place at Argyll House 
 on the 23rd June. It was in all respects an ideal marriage, 
 the young couple having youth, good looks, exalted 
 rank, splendid fortune, everything, excepting, perhaps, 
 lasting affection. They had both married hastily, only to 
 repent for twenty odd long years. The young wife seems to 
 have been of a sweet and loving nature, with a touch of her 
 aunt, Lady Coventry's, lightness of character. The picture 
 painted of her in the year of her marriage by Sir Joshua 
 Reynolds shows us what a pretty creature she was. The 
 portrait represents her in her character of bride, wreathing 
 with flowers the inevitable Altar of Hymen, on which (possibly 
 to give a touch of colour to the picture) perched Sir Joshua's 
 macaw, a stock property piece. 
 
 The following letter, written by the Duchess to Sir William 
 Hamilton,' is full of interest. It shows that Lady Betty was 
 persuaded into marrying Colonel Stanley, a mother's prudence 
 " talking down a daughter's heart." This gives the key to the 
 future position and explains the short duration of the happiness 
 upon which the Duchess dilates : — 
 
 ' Sir William Hamilton then residing at NajJes as Ambassador. 
 
ELIZABETH, DUCHESS OF HAMILTON. 
 
 {To face page 8S, 
 
• Elisabeth, Duchess of Hamilton and Argyll. 89 
 
 " Argyll House, 
 '^ August ye 12tli, 1774. 
 
 " I have with the greatest pleasure received your congratula- 
 tions upon my daughter's marriage. It is an event that gives 
 me the greatest satisfaction. Lady Betty might have taken 
 the name of Stanley long ago if she had chose it. A very 
 sincere attachment on his side has at last produced the same 
 on hers, and I have the comfort of knowing that she is really 
 happy. You will do her great injustice if you imagine that 
 her great vivacity prevents her thinking when it is of real 
 consequence, i?. I am confident she will make a good wife, 
 she has all the ingredients necessary, having the very best 
 temper in the world, a good understanding, and I am sure you 
 would easily excuse me if you could guess to what a degree I 
 love her. 
 
 '' The Duke of Argyll desires me to say many kind things 
 for him — you must imagine them — but pray give my best 
 compliments to Lady Hamilton, and believe me, etc." ^ 
 
 Lord Stanley succeeded to the title and estates of his grand- 
 father in 1776, and it soon became evident that he and his 
 young wife did not, as the saying goes, hit it off. The slender 
 amount of mutual liking with which they had set out dwindled 
 away in a few years to nil — the story of Lord and Lady Coven- 
 try repeating itself. The Earl indeed was not so pompous 
 or contradictious as Lord Coventry. He was an accomplished 
 man with a taste for the drama. The intimacy between him 
 and Miss Farren unfortunately widened the breach between 
 him and his wife, but already there had been differences 
 between the young pair. Betty, although gentle and sweet, 
 had somewhat of the lightness of character of her Aunt Maria, 
 and had inherited very little of the good sense remarkable in 
 her mother. She affected to be indifferent to her husband's 
 coldness. She went everywhere encouraging a train of 
 admirers round her. We hear of her at a ball given by a 
 Mrs. Onslow in St. James's Square, a locality just made the 
 fashion by the brothers Adam. She stayed until five o'clock 
 
 ' This letter is published for the first time from Morrison. MS 
 
90 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 in the morning; her chair not coming for her and no 
 chairmen to be had at that hour, two young bloods of the 
 day, Lord Lindsay and Mr. Storer^ undertook the charge of 
 carrying her pretty ladyship home in Mrs. Onslow's chair. 
 On their way they met her own chair and chairmen, but. 
 
 COUNTESS OF DERBY. 
 
 (Lady Betty Hamilton.) 
 
 says the chrouicler of this bit of news, they would not give up 
 their fair burden, only halting to furnish themselves with the 
 chairmen's straps, that they might finish their task more steadily. 
 These sort of escapades would not be pleasing to a man of 
 Lord Derby's character, tenacious of his own self-respect, and 
 when, in the next year, his wife's name was coupled with 
 that of the Duke of Dorset, a report went about iu society that 
 Lord Derby meant to take the matter up seriously. Lady 
 
Elizabeth, Duchess of Hayiiilton and Argyll. 91 
 
 Gower heard he had announced to Lady Derby on a certain 
 Friday that the divorce had actually begun. Another report 
 said the Duke of Dorset had waited on her brother, the Duke 
 of Hamilton, and declared his intention of marrying Lady 
 Derby as soon as the law allowed him. This ill-natured story 
 was all nonsense. There were no divorce proceedings, the 
 matter was tided over for the time, and next season Lady 
 Derby appeared under her mother's wing, the gayest of the 
 gay. " Her mother is fonder of her than ever/' writes one of 
 Mrs. Delany's correspondents, " and says the Duke of Argyll 
 has wrote to her to come to Scotland, but she will not leave 
 Lady Derby." This year she was at Admiral Keppel's ^ trial 
 looking lovely, and soon after this, in 1779, a separation was 
 arranged on friendly terms between her and Lord Derby, 
 whose devotion to Miss Farren had now become a matter of 
 notoriety. Considering the great anxiety of the actress to 
 secure for herself the position occupied by the Countess, and 
 the equally strong desire on the part of her noble lover to 
 meet her wishes, there can be no more convincing proof of 
 Lady Derby's innocence of anything which could have given 
 a chance of procuring a divorce ; for the rest, her conduct 
 was undoubtedly open to censure, on one occasion she ran 
 away from her husband's house, and was brought back by her 
 brother the Duke of Hamilton. 
 
 To return to the Duchess of Argyll. As she advanced in 
 life distinctions were showered upon her. In 1776 she was 
 created a Peeress in her own right, with the title of Baroness 
 Hamilton of Hambledon, leather an unnecessary distinction for 
 a double duchess, but which gave rise to Dr. Johnson's " douce 
 expression" that she was a duchess with three tails.^ Again, 
 in 1778, fresh honours came to her. She was appointed 
 
 ' Admiral Keppel was tried upon some charges brought against him 
 by his Vice-Admiral, Sir Hugh Palliser, for misconduct at the battle of 
 Ushant. He was unanimously acquitted, the mob showing their satis- 
 faction by breaking all the windows in the house of his accuser. Visit- 
 ors to the National Gallery are acquainted with Sir Joshua's magnificent 
 portrait of the Admiral. 
 
 - The Duke of Argyll, who was against the Duchess quitting her 
 post, dictated the letter of resignation in a cautious manner. The 
 Duchess added this postscript: — " Though J write this letter the Duke 
 dictated it." 
 
92 So7ne Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 Mistress of the Robes to the Queen, Her Majesty, however, 
 did not like her, and on one occasion invited Lady Eg-remont to 
 take her Grace^s turn of office, upon which the duchess ("Betty 
 Gunning," says the old Duchess of Gower, " has a spirit of her 
 own ") at once tendered her resignation, which however she 
 was induced to rescind. She was at this time in her forty- 
 seventh year, and was still a beautiful woman. Sir Nathaniel 
 Wraxall, who saw her a few years later, says that even then, 
 when her health was broken by a trying illness, she presented 
 a form, figure, and complexion which it would have been vain to 
 seek elsewhere. He adds : — " She seemed, indeed, composed 
 of finer clay than the rest of her sex." 
 
 It was said that the Queen was jealous of this beautiful 
 matron, and the gossips set about a story that the 
 duchess was endeavouring to attract the King. She who 
 had all her life escaped the tongue of scandal, was now in a 
 measure its victim. The Burneys, Goldsworthys and Schwel- 
 lenbergs, the Horace Walpole clique, and others repeated the 
 absurd tittle-tattle of how the duchess chatted to the King in 
 church, behind the Queen's back and so on. There could not 
 have been much harm supposing she had done so. The truth 
 lay probably in the state of the poor King's mind, which was 
 for ever travelling back over the spell of years since his corona- 
 tion J he forgot, as in the case of Lady Pembroke, the lapse of 
 time, and saw youthful charms in some ci-devant beauty and 
 paid her antiquated although perfectly harmless compliments.' 
 
 It is the drawback of Court life to be ever on the watch for 
 the slightest indications of royal favour, and to transform the 
 simplest action into a desire to obtain undue influence. No 
 one, however, gave for a moment any credence to these idle 
 tales against the duchess. Later on there were stories as to 
 the admiration of the Prince of Wales for her eldest daughter, 
 Augusta, who in her early youth had much of her mother's 
 
 ' The poor old King's penchant for Lady Pembroke, was very dis- 
 tressing to the object of it, then a mature matron. The Queen too was 
 evidently uneasy, and tried to prevent his speaking to her, but his 
 Majesty would watch his ojoportunity and slip away to the end of the 
 room where Lady Pembroke was sitting, she being annoyed at his 
 coming. 
 
Elizabeth, Duchess of Hamilton and Argyll. 93 
 
 beauty, still she could not, said one who saw them both, 
 be addressed as " O matre pulchra filia pulchrior/' 
 Her youth, her rank, her face, which was very charming 
 though not intelligent, compensated for the defects of her 
 shape and figure, she possessed, however, neither accom- 
 plishments nor mental qualities to retain her Hamlet in 
 lasting bondage; ' the poor Ophelia had rather a melancholy 
 fate. Harassed by the on dits flying about as to the Prince's 
 sudden coldness. Lady Augusta took a summary way of cut- 
 ting short all the annoyance she was enduring. She had other 
 admirers ready to avail themselves of her state of mind, and 
 with one of these, Mr. Clavering, she eloped one night from 
 the Duchess of Ancaster's ball." Miss Burney, who mentions 
 the circumstance, is full of horror at a duke's daughter being 
 guilty of an action only fit for a housemaid. Her mother was 
 much of the same opinion. A lively scene took place when 
 the duchess was hiring Lady Tweeddale's house on Twicken- 
 ham Green, for the family of her brother. General Gunning. 
 Lady Tweeddale, who probably knew where to run a malicious 
 needle into her visitor, wished her joy on Lady Augusta's 
 marriage, to which the other answered, with all Betty Gun- 
 ning's spirit, " No great joy, madam. There was no occasion 
 for Lady Augusta Campbell to marry." ^ 
 
 ' The Court had nicknamed the poor girl Ophelia, mad for love of the 
 Prince Hamlet. The Duke of Argyll was Polonius. 
 
 ^ "His being only twenty-two and she some years older, makes people 
 imagine that she rather ran away with him, than he with her. They 
 went away from the Duchess of Ancaster's, who saw masks that night. 
 The Duchess of Argyll went home, and thought that Lady Augusta 
 would soon follow her ; but after sitting up till five o'clock, and no Lady 
 Augusta returning, she sent in search of her to the Duchess of Ancas- 
 ter's. No tidings were to be learned there of the fair fugitive. She, 
 it seems, as soon as her mother went home, left the Duchess's with Mr. 
 Clavering, and went with him to Bicester, in Oxfordshire, where they 
 were married; she, it is said, was married in her domino. Lady 
 Augusta had leisure to repent her foolish marriage. She passed 
 a long and obscure life far from the splendour of Courts or capi- 
 tals, within the walls of an antique castle in a severe climate, _ by no 
 means in affluence, after having undergone the humiliation of seeing her 
 husband, General Clavering, committed to Newgate for prevarication in 
 attempting to defend the Duke of York's conduct as Commander-in- 
 Chief." — " "Wraxall's Memoirs." 
 
 ^ Lady Augusta Campbell's portrait by John Benwell, was engraved by^ 
 Bartolozzi, and is well known under the name of a " St. James' Beauty." 
 The original is in the possession of H. H. Almack, Esq. 
 
94 Some Celebrated Irish Beanties of Last Century. 
 
 "Lord, my dear ! " returned her ladyship, with a sarcastic 
 laugh, " I wonder to hear you say so, who have been ah-eady 
 twice married." 
 
 The Duchess's health had long been failing. In 1784, 
 Charles Greville writes to Sir WiUiam Hamilton : " The 
 Duke of Argyll has gone with his whole family and Lady 
 Derby to the South of France. The Duchess is very weak 
 and low, and would not follow the advice of the faculty 
 unless attended by her whole family. I fancy we shall not 
 see her again.'' She did, however, return, and was said to 
 have had a hand in writing to bring about a marriage between 
 her niece and the Marquis of Lome. This does not seem 
 probable, although the Duchess was devoted to her own 
 family. She fell ill again, and died * at Argyll House on the 
 3rd March, 1790, at the comparatively early age of fifty-eight. 
 She was buried at the collegiate church of Helmore in 
 Argyllshire. 
 
 We cannot conclude without a word as to her second daughter. 
 Lady Charlotte Campbell, one of the beauties at the beginning 
 of the present century. She was a most gifted woman. 
 Some people still alive can recall her brilliant talents and charm. 
 She was the friend of Walpole, of Mrs. Damer, of the Miss 
 Berrys, and was a remarkable feature in society both in Paris 
 and London for many years, having a reputation as a beauty, 
 a wit, and an authoress. In the last named category she took 
 a high position, her books having a first place in her own day, 
 and even now being read with pleasure, as they bear the test of 
 time better than most works of fiction written in another phase 
 of society. " The Divorced," and the " Memoirs of a Peeress," 
 will always hold their own, if only as pictures of a bygone 
 age, while the " Life and Times of George IV." is of value 
 to all readers of Court life. This last is, however, a very severe 
 and biting commentary on her own time. Lady Charlotte 
 
 ' In connection with the Duchess's death there is, in the Hamilton 
 and Nelson MS. before mentioned, an interesting letter from Emma 
 Hart (Lady Hamilton) to her former admirer, Charles Greville, in 
 which she bears testimony to the Duchess's true kindness of heart. 
 " I never had such a friend as her,'' writes Emma ungrammatically, but 
 gratefully. 
 
Elizabeth, Dtichess of Ha77iilton and Argyll. 95 
 
 married twice ; first her cousin, Colonel Campbell — secondly, 
 Mr. Bury. 
 
 Literary talent is hereditary, although, like beauty, it some- 
 times skips a generation. The present Duke of Argyll is a 
 cultured writer, with a certain grace of style that re- 
 minds one of Lady Charlotte. The Marquis of Lome and 
 Lady Frances Balfour have likewise a share of the literary 
 gift, and possess decided originality. 
 
MKS. TRAVIS AND THE OTHER TWO DAUGHTERS. 
 
 We must now take a glance at the remaining members of the 
 Gunning family, giving first place to Mr. and Mrs. Gunning, 
 who have dropped out of their position in this narrative. This 
 is due to the fact that, having played their part in securing 
 so much good fortune to their beautiful daughters, they pro- 
 bably took their ease for the rest of their days — at least, very 
 little is said about them. One can imagine that Mr. Guaning 
 was somewhat of a thorn in the flesh of his noble sons-in-law, 
 resembling, as he did in many ways. Captain Costigan, with 
 his rich South of Ireland brogue and general pompous 
 manner. His constant boasting would have been tiresome, 
 " Me daughter, the duchess," and '' Me daughter, the 
 countess," being for ever on his lips. The latter seems to 
 have been good to him. There is a letter in verse written by 
 him to his grand-daughter. Lady Anne Coventry, aged two 
 years old, " On the recall of the French Ambassador, from her 
 affectionate Grandpapa." It was just in keeping with his 
 character to write to a mere baby on such a subject. 
 
 His miniature, engraved by Houston from Leotard's minia- 
 ture,' is a proof of his absurdity ; underneath the likeness 
 there are four verses in Latin. The picture has, to the 
 left, six circles enclosing Love, Peace, Tranquility, Mild- 
 ness, Temperance, Joy ; to the right, six circles enclosing 
 Hatred, Variance, Pride, Wealth, Drunkenness, Despair. 
 Two doves (three doves were the Gunning crest), are 
 on each side with eight verses transcribed below them 
 
 ^ This engraving is very rare. There are only two known. One is in 
 the National Gallery. Dublin, in the fine collection presented by Lord 
 Iveagh. 
 
Mrs. Travis and the Other Two Daughters. 97 
 
 beginning, " Now on the verge of three score and ten praise 
 ye the Lord." Below there is a circle with an account of his 
 preference for doing works of charity in preference to hearing 
 Miss Brent sing. 
 
 Round his neck hangs a medallion with a portrait of Lady 
 Coventry.^ He died in 1767 at Somerset House," where Mrs. 
 Gunning had for many years enjoyed the lucrative appoint- 
 ment of housekeeper. This was a sinecure oflBce involving no 
 trouble and bringing in a good income. Here she likewise 
 died in 1770. 
 
 It will be remembered that beside the two elder sisters 
 there were three other children, two girls and a boy. Lizzie, 
 the eldest of the three, died of consumption in 1753. Her 
 promise of beauty was even greater than that of her sisters. 
 Her mother used to say that had she lived, the blaze of her 
 beauty " would have set the world on fire." In view of such 
 a calamity it was as well she died so young. 
 
 Catherine, the youngest girl, was fortunately not so 
 dangerously handsome. From the portrait of her by Cotes 
 we can see how nearly she resembled both the beauties. Lady 
 Coventry perhaps the most. The smile is almost identical, 
 and she has the same expression of most engaging frankness. 
 Houston engraved three half-lengths of the sisters in one 
 
 ^ From the time of Lady Coventry's death Mr. Gunning wore this 
 medallion suspended round his neck. In his account of the Duke of 
 Richmond's famous masquerade in 1763, Horace Walpole says," Old Gun- 
 ning was there, habited as a running footman with a miniature of 
 his late daughter hung, like the Croix de St. Louis, round his neck." 
 
 - All manner of romantic histories are connected with old Somerset 
 House, which took its name from the Protector. Queen Anne of Den- 
 mark made it her palace, and it was called Denmark House in her 
 honour. Inigo Jones beautified it exceedingly, for his good friend and 
 patroness, and here some of his lovely masques were given. Henrietta 
 Maria, who likewise annexed it, banished all carnal amusements, and 
 filled it with Capuchin Friars, who, in their turn, were banished. It 
 was said that the Pretender was secreted in Somerset House. Under the 
 Georges it was constantly occupied by royal guests. Christian of Den- 
 mark and the Duke of Brunswick lodged there at the time of their 
 marriages with the royal princesses. Under George III. it was de- 
 molished, and rebuilt by Sir William Chambers, when the front wing, 
 looking on the Strand, was devoted to the Royal Academy of 
 Arts. The office of Housekeeper seems to have been almost hereditary 
 in the Gunning family. It was enjoyed by Lady Mayo (Bridget 
 Gunning) for many years after the death of Lord Mayo. 
 
98 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 frame, side by side. On the left hand is Maria (after 
 Cotes's watch-paper miniature). Underneath is written 
 some doggrel : — 
 
 " In other conflicts numbers may prevail, 
 In Love alone you'll find this maxim fail." 
 
 r 
 
 •"/'i=»S^_ 
 
 
 .^ 
 
 ITTY GUNNINLr. 
 
 In the centre of the frame is a copy of the head of 
 Elizabeth, after Hamilton. Underneath, the lines : — 
 
 " The sister Graces v?hen we view apart, 
 Each thus resistless captivates the heart." 
 
 To the right appears the copy of a head, after Cotes, of 
 " Miss Kitty Gunning." Underneath the lines : — 
 
 " But if the Graces we together see, 
 Not knowing which to chuse, they set us free." 
 
 This is a proof of how like the sisters were. Their fates 
 were, however, very different. As is often the case when the 
 
Mrs. Travis and the Other Two Daughters. 99 
 
 elder members of a family succeed beyond all expectation. 
 Miss Kitty considered she bad only to go in and win. 
 Perhaps she soared too high, or that there bad been enough 
 of the Gunnings. It is impossible to reckon on luck, it being 
 all the world over a most capricious mistress. The story 
 goes that Catherine was of a sweet and retiring disposition, 
 and at the very outset of her career made a love match with 
 a young Irish gentleman, Travis by name, and they lived 
 happily ever afterwards in their remote country home. 
 
 The facts of the case, however, have nob this romantic 
 setting, Miss Kitty not marrying the man of her heart (if he 
 were thus distinguished) until she had reached, according to 
 the prevailing opinion of the day, the very verge of old 
 maidenism. She was in her thirtieth year when she gave 
 her hand to Eobert Travis on the 6th May, 1 769 ; neither 
 did she retire to the country, to live happily ever after. 
 
 We find that on her mother^s death, which took place a 
 few months after Mrs. Travis's marriage, the office of House- 
 keeper to Somerset House was transferred to her, and that 
 here she died after four years of marriage, in 1773, at the 
 early age of thirty-three. Her portrait, after Cotes, was 
 engraved by Houston and sold by John Bowles at the " Black 
 Horse," on Cornhill. Underneath are the lines : — 
 
 " This youngest of the Graces here we view, 
 So like in beauty to the other two ; 
 Whoe'er compares their features and their frame 
 Will know at once that Gunning is her name.'' 
 
GENERAL GUNNING AND THE STORY OP HIS 
 DAUGHTER GUNILDA. 
 
 It will be remembered that when Miss Bellamy came to the 
 rescue of the family in the obscure lodgings in Britain 
 Street, she was struck with a sweet boy of three years old. 
 This sweet boy, growing to man's estate, reaped considerable 
 advantage from the aristocratic marriages of his sisters. It 
 was the day when interest was all-powerful, and young 
 Gunning, being drafted into the army, passed rapidly from 
 one grade to another, until he was gazetted a full-fleclged 
 general. It is due to him, however, to state that he was not 
 altogether a feather-bed soldier; he did some good service 
 at the Battle of Bunker's Hill. Those who knew him con- 
 sidered him like his father in being somewhat pompous, and 
 he was evidently inflated with a notion of his own importance, 
 for on one occasion he published a pamphlet, claiming to be 
 32nd in descent from Charlemagne. 
 
 In spite of his handsome face and many advantages, he 
 married, in 1769, to disappoint his family. His wife was a 
 Miss Minifie, of Fairwater, in Somersetshire. It does not 
 appear that she was either rich or beautiful, but she was an 
 authoress, having already written two novels. The marriage 
 was not a happy one. Mrs. Gunning was deficient in tact ; 
 she was always doing something to annoy her husband. 
 Horace Walpole was of opinion that there was madness in 
 the Minifie family, and if so, the poor lady was surely not 
 accountable for her mistakes. There were two children of 
 this marriage — girls both. The mother found them in her 
 way and sent them out to nurse, as was the custom in those 
 days. The younger, Helen, was adopted by a lady, who 
 
General Gtinnino- and his DaiLghter Gtinilda. lo i 
 
 brought her up as her own child/ The other, Catherine, 
 christened later on " Gunilda " by Horace Walpole, 
 has a singular story of her own, which is now forgotten, 
 but which in its day caused more stir than perhaps it 
 merited. It is strange enough to bear repeating here. 
 
 The young lady, it appears, was ambitious; from her 
 childhood she had heard of the good fortune of her aunts, 
 who had come to London with only their beauty as their 
 fortune, and being fired with a laudable desire to follow their 
 example, she too, resolved to be a duchess. She forgot, 
 putting aside the fact that there is no heredity of good 
 luck, that the important factor of beauty being wanting 
 in her case, the difficulty would be all the greater. Catherine 
 was far from handsome; some people called her plain. 
 She had a fine complexion, the long eyes of the Gunnings 
 spoiled by the long nose of the Minifies, but no one could 
 deny that from the same source she inherited the most 
 beautiful hand and arm, charms which, in the days of our 
 great grandmothers, were held in consideration. We are 
 told, on the authority of Dr. Whalley, " that her manners 
 were most pleasing, and her temper and disposition ex- 
 cellent." 
 
 Casting about for strawberry leaves. Miss Gunning, in the 
 first instance, selected her cousin, Lord Lome, and bestowed 
 upon him her youthful affections. She had ample oppor- 
 tunities for securing his, as the Duchess of Argyll, her aunt, 
 was very kind to her brother's family, and had them constantly 
 with her. It got whispered about that a marriage between 
 the cousins would be probably the event of the season. 
 Doctor Whalley, who lived near the general, and was intimate 
 with the family, writing to his sister in May, 1788, says : — 
 
 ** The Gunnings are leaving Langford Hall next month. 
 
 ' This story rests on slif^ht grounds. It -was stated by a writer in the 
 Argosy of 1891, with the addition that Helen married "the son of Mrs. 
 Farleigh, the lady who adopted her. Miss Eamilton also mentions in 
 her diary calling for the Uoo Miss Gunnings, and taking them in 
 Mrs. Boscawen's coach to see "ye vase at her uncle Sir William 
 Hamilton's." On the other hantl, we have Mrs. Gunning's oft-repeated 
 declaration that she had only one child, her darling Catherine. 
 
I02 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 and the new tenants take possession of it at Midsummer. 
 Saving fheir dirt, we should like our old ones best. It is 
 said, but this is strictly entre nous, that Miss Gunning is 
 engaged to her cousin, the Marquis of Lome, and that the 
 marriage will take place on his return from the Continent. 
 He is handsome, amiable, clever, exclusive of titles, riches, 
 and God knows what. Has she not provided well for herself ? 
 But I must, in justice, say that she merits and will grace the 
 highest exaltation ; she is totally uncorrupted by the gay and 
 great, and as humble, aflfable, and benevolent as before she 
 mixed in the splendours and dissipations of the Great 
 City." 
 
 Here we have a testimony to Gunilda's virtues ; it smacks 
 somewhat of the sprouting strawberry leaves, which the 
 clergyman saw already on her youthful brow, and which 
 made him condone even " the dirt.^' The contemplated 
 marriage, however, came to nothing, there being, in fact, no 
 ardour on the part of the supposed bridegroom, who laughed 
 at the notion. The " uncorrupted " Gunilda, nothing 
 daunted, turned her battery against another dukeling. Lord 
 Blandford,^ son of the Duke of Marlborough, and here her 
 imagination would appear to have run riot. Whether she 
 had any grounds for the assertion which she made boldly, 
 that he was her lover, must always remain amongst the un- 
 discovered secrets, but it seems more than probable that the 
 wish to be Duchess of Marlborough was the parent of the 
 whole invention. 
 
 Some two years after the Lome disappointment, in the 
 month of January, 1790, we find the Gunnings living in 
 good style in St. James's Place, the family consisting of the 
 general, his wife, daughter, and " Auntie Peg," — a sister of 
 Mrs. Gunning. They kept a carriage and a household of 
 servants, and Miss Gunning had her chair and her own 
 footman, as befitted her future dignity ; for it was now 
 universally said that she had made a conquest quite equal to 
 
 ^ George William, eldest son of the Duke and Duchess of Argyll, 
 born 1768, consequently 23 years of age. He married in 1810 a 
 daughter of Lord Jersey, and died without issue. 
 
General Gunning and his Daughter Gunilda. 103 
 
 that of her beautiful aunts. Of course Horace Walpole has 
 the story, and writes it all round to his correspondents. 
 
 " She is to have the same jointure as the Duchess of 
 Marlborough," he writes to Miss Berry, " but Lady Clack- 
 mannan, ^ who has, you may be sure, questioned both the 
 duke and Lord Lome, says the former answered coolly : 
 ' They tell me that it is to be ' ; the other said, ' Ue knew 
 nothing of the matter.' " 
 
 The Duke of Gloucester believed there was nothing in it, 
 but General Conway" asserted the truth of the report so 
 peremptorily that Mr. Walpole was fain to believe in a 
 second blossom of dukes to the Gunnings, but again thought 
 it was due to the semi-dotage of the old Dachess of Bedford,^ 
 who was still harping upon " conjunctions copulative." 
 Mrs. Gunning was very distinct on the subject to her intimate 
 friends. She told her cousin, a certain Mrs. Bowen, on the 
 20th of January, that the marriage was fixed and the settle- 
 ments signed . . but that it was still a secret — even from 
 the general. She also confided in the Duke of Argyll, 
 although not to the extent of the settlements. . , Presently, 
 however, the young lady declared to the receiving of constant 
 love letters from the marquis, who, she averred, was all anxiety 
 to marry her, but was coerced by his family, although in the 
 beginning they had given every encouragement to the match. 
 Thereupon, the Duchess of Argyll took up the cudgels for 
 her niece, and went about saying that the general, her brother, 
 was not a man to be trifled with. The general, to show that 
 
 * Lady Clackmannan was a name for a lady much given to gossip. 
 
 * " You asserted so peremptorily Miss Gunning's matcli with Lord 
 Blandford that though I doubted it J quoted you. Lo ! it took its rise 
 solely in poor old Bedford's dotage, that still harps on conjunctions 
 copulative, but now disavows on a remonstrance from her daughter." — 
 Hoi'ace Walpole's letter to Hon. H. Conway, August 9, 1790. 
 
 ^ This was Gertrude, the old Hoyden of Bloomsbury (see page 87). 
 Her daughter had married George, Duke of Marlborough, in 1762 ; the 
 Marquis of Blandford was twenty-five. The old duchess had still wit 
 enough to be exceedingly mischievous. She was a scandal-loving, be- 
 rouged, card-playing old dame, such as Richardson loved to paint. 
 "When she was vice-queen in Dublin she would go to anyone for a game 
 of quadrille, and she was never so happy as when in the midst of an 
 intrigue or match-making. 
 
T04 So77ie Ccleb7'ated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 his family was equal to that of the descendants of a soldier 
 of fortune like Churchill, published in the papers that he was 
 32nd in descent from Charlemagne. Walpole, in his sarcastic 
 way, comments on this act of folly : — 
 
 He had better like Priors, Madam, 
 To cut tilings short, go up to Adam. 
 
 " GUyiLDA -■' GUNNING. 
 
 At last it entered the head of the " Carlovingian Hero," as 
 Walpole styles the general^ to suspect that something was 
 wrong. It was either a tricky or they were the compositions 
 of his wife, the Minifie novelist.^ He inclined to the latter 
 
 * Miss Minifie and her sisters had been joint authoresses of several 
 sentimental novels. Mrs. Gunning, after the denouement of her 
 daughter's extraordinary history, gave the world a novel in four 
 volumes called " Mary." This is written after the manner of " Evelina,'' 
 in letters, but without the charm that makes that obsolete style 
 bearable. " Mary,'' however, owing to the circumstances under which 
 it saw the light, ran into three editions. 
 
General Gunning and his Daug liter Gnnilda. 105 
 
 supposition, and on another supposed love letter arriving, he 
 examined it closely, and found that it had been altered and 
 interlined; whereupon, thinking this was confirmation of his 
 suspicions, he, in his impetuous Irish fashion, took the matter 
 into his own hands, and sent off the whole packet to Lord 
 Blandford, who immediately distinguished the two kinds, 
 owned the few letters that were his, and disavowed the others. 
 The rest of the story is best told in the words of the Prince 
 of Eaconteurs, who in his own inimitable fashion, sets it all 
 before us in so life-like a manner, that one can fancy it 
 news of yesterday, instead of its happening one hundred and 
 three years ago. 
 
 Letter to Miss Berry. 
 
 " 13th February, 1791. 
 " The following narrative, although only the termination of 
 a legend, you know by the foregoing chapters, is too singular 
 and too long to be added to my letter, therefore you will 
 receive two by the same post, and you will not require. . . . 
 The Gunnihiad is completed, and not by a marriage like other 
 novels of the Minifies'. Void how the denouement happened. 
 The general and his ducal brother-in-law of Argyll thought 
 it expedient that Miss Charlemagne's * character should be 
 cleared as far as possible ; she still maintaining the prodigious 
 encouragement she had received from the parents of her in- 
 tended sposo, she was ordered to draw up a narrative which 
 should be laid before the Duke of Marlborough, and if allowed 
 by him, it was to be shown for her vindication.^ She obeyed, 
 
 * It now came out that the Charlemagne letter was another forgery. 
 The general had never heard of his royal descent. " It is true I am well 
 born," he said, " but I know no such family in Ireland as the Charle- 
 magnes." — Horace Walpole to Miss Berry. 
 
 - Letter trom General Gunning to the Duke of Marlborough. 
 " St. James's Place, 3rd February, 1791. 
 
 "My Lord, — I have the honour of addressing this letter to your Grace 
 not with the smallest wish after what has passed of having a marriage 
 established between Lord Blandford and my daughter, or of claiming 
 any promise or proposal to that effect, but merely to know whether your 
 Grace or the Duchess of Marlborough have it in recollection that your 
 Graces, or Lord Blandford, ever gave my daughter reason to think a 
 marriage was once intended. 
 
 " My motive for giving this trouble arises merely from a desire of 
 
1 06 So7j?c Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 and her former assertions did not suffer by the new statement, 
 but one singular circumstance was added. She confessed, in- 
 genuous maid, that though she had not been able to resist so 
 dazzling an offer, her heart was still her cousin^s — the other 
 Marquis (of Lome). Well, this narrative, after being laid 
 before a confidential Junto at Argyle House, was sent to 
 Blenheim by the generaFs own groom. Judge of the 
 astonishment of the Junto when Carlomau laid before them a 
 short letter from the Duke of Marlborough, declaring how 
 delighted he and his Duchess had been at their son's having 
 made choice of so beautiful and amiable a virgin for his 
 bride, how greatly they had encouraged the match, and how 
 chagrined they were that from the lightness and incon- 
 stancy of his temper the projected alliance was quite at an 
 end.^ 
 
 removing any imputation from my daughter's character, as if she had 
 entertained an idea of such importance without any reasonable founda- 
 tion. 
 
 " For my own satisfaction, and that of my particular friends who had 
 been induced to believe the reports of the intended marriage, I have 
 desired my daughter to draw up an accurate narrative of every material 
 circumstance on which that belief was founded. 
 
 " This narrative I have the honour of transmitting to your Grace for 
 your own perusal, and that of the Duchess of Marlborough and Lord 
 Blandford, thinking it highly suitable that you should have an early 
 opportunity of examining it — and I beg leave to request that your Grace 
 will, after examination, correct or alter such passages as may appear 
 either to Your Grace, the Duchess of Marlborough, or Lord Blandford, 
 to be erroneously stated. . . 
 
 " I have the honour to be, 
 " With the greatest respect, my Lord, 
 " Your Grace's most humble and 
 
 "Most obedient servant, 
 
 "John Gunning." 
 
 [From Captain Boweu's affidavit.] 
 
 ' Answek, fbom the Duke of Maelboeough to General Gunning. 
 
 " Blenheim. 
 
 " Sib, — I take the earliest opportunity to acknowledge the receipt of 
 your letter, and to answer it with that explicitness you are so much 
 
 entitled to. From the first of the acquaintance of the D s of Mai'l- 
 
 borough and myself had with Miss Gunning, we were charmed with 
 her, and it was with infinite satisfaction we discovered Blanford's 
 sentiments similar to our own. It had been long the wish of both to 
 see him married to some amiable woman. Your daughter was the one 
 we had fixed on, and we had every reason to suppose the object of his 
 tenderest affections, and, from the conduct of both himself and his 
 family, yourself and Miss Gunning had undoubtedly every right to look 
 on a marriage as certain. Indeed, when I left town last summer, I 
 
General G Mining and his Daughter Gunilda. 107 
 
 " This wonderful acquittal of the damsel the groom deposed 
 to have received half an hour after his arrival at Blenheim, 
 and he gave the most natural and unembarrassed account of 
 all the stages he had made coming and going. 
 
 " You may still suspect, and so did some of the Council, that 
 every word of this report and this letter was not Gospel, though 
 I ' thought the epistle not irreconcilable with other parts of the 
 conduct of their Graces about their children, still I defy you 
 to guess a thousandth part of the marvellous explanation of 
 the mystery. 
 
 " The first circumstance that struck me was that the Duke in 
 his own son's name had forgotten the D in the middle — that 
 was possible in the hurry of doing justice. Next the wax was 
 black, and nobody could discover for whom such illustrious 
 personages were in mourning. Well, that was no proof one 
 way or the other; unluckily, someone suggested that Lord 
 Henry Spencer was in town, though he was to return next 
 day to Holland. A messenger was sent to him late at night, 
 to beg that he would repair to Argyle House. He did ; the 
 letter was shown to him ; he laughed, and said it had not the 
 least resemblance to his father's hand. This was negative 
 detection enough. But now comes the most positive and 
 wonderful unravelling. The next day the general received a 
 letter from a gentleman " confessing that his wife, a cousin of 
 
 regarded her as my future daughter, and I must say it is with sorrow I 
 relinquish the idea. The actions of young men are not always to be 
 accounted for ; and it is with regret that I acknowledge my son has 
 been particularly unaccountable in his. I beg you will do me the 
 justice to believe that I shall ever think myself your debtor for the 
 manner in which you have conducted yourself in this affair, and that I 
 must always take an interest in the happiness of Miss Gunning. I 
 beg, if she has not conceived a disgust for the whole of my family, 
 she will accept the sincerest good wishes of the Duchess and my 
 daughters. 
 
 " I have the honour to remain, 
 " Sir, 
 " Your much obliged and 
 " Most obedient, humble servant, 
 
 " Marlborough." 
 [From Captain Bowen's affidavit.] 
 
 ^ This I would lead one to suppose Mr. Walpole was one of the 
 Junto. 
 
 ' This was Captain Bowen, who was married to Lisetta Lyster, 
 
1 08 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 Miss Charlemagne's, had lately received from her a letter from 
 the Duke of Marlborough in her favour, and begging the 
 gentlewoman's husband would transcribe and send it to her, 
 as she wished to send it to a friend in the country.* Her 
 husband had done so, but had taken the precaution to write 
 ' copy,' and before the signature had written ' signed M,' 
 both which words Miss Charlemagne had erased, and then 
 delivered the gentleman's identic transcript to the groom to 
 be brought back as if from Blenheim, which the steady groom, 
 on being examined anew, confessed ; and that being bribed 
 he had gone but one post and invented the rest. 
 
 '' You will pity now the poor general, who had been a dupe 
 
 daughter to W. Lyster of Athleague Castle, Co. Eoscommon. She was 
 niece to General Gunning. 
 
 ^ Miss Gunning's Letter to Mrs. Bowen. 
 
 " 8 o'clock, Tuesday. 
 
 " You will, my dear Mrs. Bowing, be surprised at receiving a note 
 from me so early, but when I tell you my motive you will, I am sure, 
 intercede with Mr. Bowing to pardon the liberty I am going to take, 
 and grant my request. I will tell you in a very few words the situation 
 I have, for some time, been in. Mama weded to Lord Blandford 
 thought everything he did right, while I was merely a cypher in the 
 whole affair ; and, indeed, to tell you the truth, that was the only light 
 I wished to be considered in ; for though I acknowledged him to be very 
 aimiable, my heart refused him any share in it, as it has long been 
 devoted to another. 
 
 " Within this week i have gained papa so far of my side as to represent 
 to him that I was displeased with the conduct of Lord B. ; and as he has 
 a natural affection for the person interested in my application, he the 
 more readily joined me, and three days ago wrote, at my positive 
 request, to the Duke of Marlborough to tell him that I was not satisfied 
 with Lord B., and in the most handsome manner wished to break off all 
 further connection. The Duke of M. wrote a letter which he received 
 yesterday, and of which I enclose you the copy, and beg you will have 
 the goodness to ask Mr. Bowing to write it oft' fair for me ; as I wrote 
 it from memory, and wish to send it to a friend of mine this evening by 
 the post. Pray tell him my story, but save me as much as you can. If 
 I could present Lord Lome to you he would be an apology for every- 
 thing 1 have done. Neither papa or I have courage to tell mama this, 
 for she detests the person dearest to me on earth. I am sure I may 
 depend on your not telling her any part of this letter. I should have 
 spoken to you last night, only found I had not courage. Do not send 
 any note or message to this house about the contents of this letter. 1 
 will send to you about two o'clock for the copy I hope Mr. Bowing will 
 have the goodness to send me. I would call, but that I am to be all 
 the morning at Argyle House. I write in such a hurry, I do not believe 
 you will be able to read this. 
 
 " Ever yours affectionately, 
 
 " E. Gunning." 
 
General Gtinning and his Daughte}^ Gtinilda. 109 
 
 from the beginning and shed floods of tears — nay, has actually 
 turned his daughter out of doors/ as she is also banished 
 from Argyle House, and Lady Charlotte (Campbell) to her 
 honour, speaks of her with the utmost indignation ; in fact, 
 there never was a more extraordinary tissue of effrontery, 
 folly, and impertinence. You may depend upon the authen- 
 ticity of this narrative, and may guess from whom I received 
 all the circumstances." We are at liberty to guess also, and 
 his informant, no doubt, was Mrs. Damer, who was the dear 
 friend of Lady Charlotte Campbell, the daughter of the 
 Duke of Argyll and cousin to Gunilda. 
 
 While sharing the indignation that all honourable people 
 must feel at such a series of deception, one cannot help a 
 certain measure of pity for the wretched girl who had thus 
 disgraced herself, when one thinks of the Junto sitting upon 
 her conduct, and the betrayal of her cousin, Mrs. Bowen, 
 together with the shame of being branded as a liar and a 
 forger. Still, to the last she would confess nothing. The 
 whole matter might have died away had it not been for the 
 want of tact and prudence of her friends who certainly did 
 not act upon the advice given in the French proverb as to 
 private family washing. To say nothing of the extraordinary 
 action of General Gunning in violently expelling his erring 
 wife and daughter from his house, Mrs. Gunning on her side 
 had the folly to take the public into her confidence by 
 publishing a letter to the Duke of Argyll which highly 
 diverted fashionable society, and must have made the fortune 
 of the printer. 
 
 The lady who, as we know, was an " authoress,'^ filled pages 
 in the high-flown language of the time ; she imposed on the 
 Duke the task of searching for this mystery in the very deepest 
 recesses of its '^ dark recess." The spotless innocence of her 
 " glorious child " had everything to hope and nothing to fear ; 
 the foes of her soul's treasure might be multiplied as the sands 
 of the sea shore. Let them be dragged out of their lurking 
 places. She does not scruple to drag out of its hiding place 
 her domestic unhappiness, she unveils the faults of the 
 
 * The Duchess of Bedford leut the mother and daughter Lord John 
 Russell's house. 
 
no Some Celebrated Irish BeaiUies of Last Century. 
 
 general, his neglect, infidelities^ stinginess. She denounces 
 him as the author of the plot to disgrace his own child, and 
 she stigmatizes as human monsters Captain and Mrs. Bowen, 
 who, she avows, were paid by him to forge the letters. She 
 gives no reason for this insane desire on his part to degrade 
 himself and his family, and the impression left on the mind 
 of the reader of these 147 pages coincides with that of 
 Horace Walpole, that the whole Minifi7 — meaning the m^other, 
 daughter and aunt — were in the plot to secure for Miss 
 Gunning a ducal husband. 
 
 One of the human monsters now entered the field. On the 
 10th April, a month after Mrs. Gunning's pamphlet had 
 appeared, Captain Bowen addressed the Duke of Argyll a 
 statement of facts in answer to Mrs. Gunning. He published 
 likewise all the afiidavits and documents which were laid 
 before counsel.' These are of such a nature, that no one 
 
 ^ Affidavit op the Groom. 
 William Pearce, groom to General Gunning, aged fifty or thereabouts, 
 inaketh to oath and saith that a pacquet and a letter were delivered to 
 him by General Gunning, on the morning of the day he was directed by 
 General Gunning to go to the Duke of Marlborough's and that he was 
 directed to carry them to the Duke of Marlborough's at Blenheim, that 
 immediately after the pacquet and letter had been so delivered to this 
 deponent by General Gunning, Hannah Hales, who was at that time 
 Miss Gunning's maid, came to this deponent and requested him to go 
 to Miss Gunning ; that he accordingly went to Miss Gunning who was 
 then in her bedchamber. That it was about 10 o'clock in the morning 
 that Miss Gunning met the deponent at the door of her room and said, 
 "You are going to the Duke of Marlborough's," deponent answered 
 " Yes." That then Miss Gunning said to this deponent, " You must not 
 go." That this deponent answered, and said, " Miss Gunning, it is a 
 matter of trust. I must perform my trust," upon which Miss Gunning 
 said, " I would not have you go for five thousand pounds ; '' and that she 
 insisted upon his not going time after time, and said that the business 
 he was going upon was concerning a letter which she had had two or 
 three days. And that she knew what the paper was which he had from 
 her papa, and that it was of her own handwriting. And that this 
 deponent saith that Miss Gunning desired him to leave the papers 
 which had been delivered to him by General Gunning with her which 
 she many times insisted upon. And this deponent saith he went down- 
 stairs and brought the papers which he had received from General 
 Gunning and delivered them into Miss Gunning's own hand. That 
 when the witness had delivered the papers which he had received from 
 General Gunning to Miss Gunning she delivered to him a letter whioli 
 she said was a letter from the Duke of Marlborough, and which she 
 told this deponent she had opened and sealed it again with the Duke of 
 Marlborough's arms. 
 
 [From Captain Bowen's affidavit.] 
 
General Gunning and his Daughter Gunilda. 1 1 1 
 
 could have any reasonable doubt that Miss Gunning had 
 tampered with the groom, and exchanged her own letter for 
 that written by her father to the Duke of Marlborough. It 
 would take up too much space to go into the various 
 details of this very remarkable document which deals 
 with all the numerous lies and deceptions of the fair 
 Gunilda. In face .of this accumulated evidence even the 
 greatest partisan of the fair Gunilda was obliged to be silent 
 in her def ence^ a very noticeable fact being that no rebutting 
 statement was even attempted.' The old Duchess of Bedford, 
 who remained steadfast to her protegee, now wrote to Lord 
 Lome, begging him to intercede for his cousin for his dear 
 mother's sake who doted upon her. Miss Gunning likewise 
 posed as a persecuted victim, declaring that it was her 
 mother's aversion to Lord Lome which had prevented his 
 declaring himself as her lover. They also, both mother and 
 daughter, set about a story that a duel was to be fought be- 
 tween Lords Lome and Blandford ; but as this never came off, 
 we may suppose it was another falsehood. It is difficult to 
 imagine what object could be attained by so much deception, 
 unless that in some natures there is such a moral warp that the 
 mere pleasure of lying compensates for all the risk of exposure. 
 Another concoction was probably the letters which were 
 said by the ladies to have passed between the father and 
 daughter, and which appear in Mrs. Gunning's pamphlet. 
 
 General Gunning to his Daughter. 
 
 " Monday evening. 
 
 " From a heart that still feels most sensibly the afflictions of a 
 
 ' " After the groom's confession, and after Captain Bowen had been 
 confronted with her and produced to her face her note to his wife, which 
 she disowned resolutely, she desired the Duke of Argyll to let her take 
 an oath on the Bible of her perfect innocence ; he would not allow it. 
 Next day, taking two of the Duchess of Bedford's servants, she went 
 before a Justice of Peace and swore to her innocence, and said to tlie 
 magistrate, " Sir, from my youth you may think I do not know the 
 solemnity of an oath, but to convince you I do, I know my salvation 
 depends upon what I have now sworn." It is but a burlesque j^art of 
 this wonderful tale that old crazy Bedford exhibits Miss every morning 
 on the Causeway in Hyde Park, and declares her protegee some time 
 ago refused General Trevelyan." — Horace Walpole to Miss Berry. 
 
1 1 2 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 father for her, who was dearly belov'd, proceeds this letter. 
 That aflBicted father desires an interview with his unfortunate 
 daughter, in which she may depend on having no more to fear 
 than the workings of an anxious and perhaps over-indulgent 
 parent. The time and place of meeting is left entirely to her 
 who is even now 
 
 "■dear to 
 " (Signed) G. Gunning. 
 " Send an answer sealed with red wax by the bearer. I have 
 opened the note and made it up in the form of a letter, I sup 
 to-night at Soho Square. I lodge at No. 13, Norton Street, 
 Portland Place." 
 
 Copy of answee of Miss Gunning to her Father. 
 
 " Monday evening. 
 
 "Turn'd from your door defenceless, pennyless, and robb'd 
 by you of what is and ever will be dearer than my life — my 
 character — stigmatized for forgeries which those who really 
 did forge the letters, and you, sir, must know I am as innocent 
 of as heaven is free from fraud, you who I never in my life 
 offended in thought, word or deed, to cast me out upon the 
 wide world as a guilty creature, when you know my heart 
 would not have harboured a thought that could have dis- 
 honoured you, myself or my sex, and after you had thrown 
 me off, to pursue me as you would the bitterest of your enemies, 
 to raise up false witnesses to crush that child whom you should 
 have protected with your life, innocent as I am, and as I again 
 repeat ijou know me to be ; even if I had been guilty, which 
 God be praised I am not, still you should have screened me, 
 and your chastisements should have been softened by pity. 
 You call me unfortunate, I am unfortunate, who has made me 
 so? 
 
 " This unfortunate will not appear in your presence till you 
 announce, and that in the most publick and unequivocal 
 manner, to the whole world, how much she has been wronged 
 by scandalous contrivances and unheard-of calumny. 
 
 " (Sigaed) E. Gunning." 
 
General Gunnins: and Ins Dano^htcr Gunilda. 1 1 
 
 There is a very theatrical ring about this letter^ which would 
 give the idea that it was written for the public. The world 
 was indeed deluged with Gunning papers. A curious 
 pamphlet now appeared entitled " The strange incidents in 
 the family of General Gunning.'" In this the theory is started 
 that the young lady was really in love with her cousin Lome, 
 and thought that by raising up an imaginary rival, she might 
 supply the proper stimulant to quicken his addresses. In this 
 eiiasion we learn a great deal of the domestic relations of General 
 and Mrs. Gunning and the total want of harmony in their lives. 
 Mrs. Gunning had been ordered by her husband to quit his 
 house some time before the discovery of the forged letters. 
 From the high falutin style in which the document is con- 
 ceived, one would say it was written by Mrs. Gunning, although 
 her identity is carefully concealed. 
 
 Meantime, Gunilda's name began to be dragged through the 
 kennels of the press. A print appeared called " The New 
 Art of Gunning,"' which represented her astride on a cannon, 
 firing a volley of forged letters at Blenheim Castle, and the 
 old Duchess of Bedford, '' emaciated, withered, and very like," 
 lifting up her hoop to shelter injured innocence. 
 
 An imaginary letter to the Duke of Argyle appeared next. 
 The frontispiece presented a medallion of Gunilda, supported 
 by two Cupids (not marquises), her name, and four verses 
 underneath. This was soon after followed by a very amusing 
 satirical parody of the " House that Jack Built,'' which was 
 handed about privately, but which finally got into print. It 
 was supposed to be written by the Honourable J. Fitz- 
 patrick. Walpole, writing to his dear Berrys, sends them 
 a copy. "This is not at all news," he says; " I have heard 
 it once or twice imperfectly, but could not get a copy until 
 now ; and I think it will divert you for a moment, although 
 the heroines are as much forgotten as Boadicea : nor have I 
 heard of them since their arrival at Dover, whither they 
 have gone terrified by Captain Bowen's threat of prosecution 
 for libel. The town is very dull without them," adds this 
 invincible gossip.' 
 
 ' "Lord Ossory has just been here and told me that Gunilda has 
 
 I 
 
1 14 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 THE PARODY ON THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT. 
 
 This is the note 
 That never was wrote. 
 
 This is the groom 
 That never was sent 
 To carry the note 
 That never was wrote. 
 
 This is Minifie Gunning 
 Who used all her cunning 
 The groom to i>revent 
 That never was sent 
 To carry the note 
 That never was wrote. 
 
 This is Ma'am Bowen 
 To whom it was owing 
 That Minifie Gunning 
 Has used all her cunning 
 The groom to prevent 
 That never was sent 
 To carry the note 
 That never was wrote. 
 
 This is the Maiden all for Lorn 
 
 Who now by her friends is tattered and toru ; 
 
 But chief by Ma'am Bowen 
 
 To whom it is owing 
 
 That Minifie Gunning 
 
 Has used all her cunning 
 
 The groom to prevent 
 
 That never was sent 
 
 To carry the note 
 
 That never was wrote. 
 
 These are the Marquises shy of the horn 
 Who flew from the Maiden all for Lorn, 
 Who now by her friends is tattered and torn ; 
 
 But chief by Ma'am Bowen 
 
 To whom it is owing 
 
 That Minifie Gunning 
 
 Has used all her cunning 
 
 The groom to prevent 
 
 That never was sent 
 
 To carry the note 
 
 That never was wrote. 
 
 written to Lord Blandford in her own name, begging hia pardon for 
 promising herself marriage in his name, but imputing the first thought 
 to his grandmother. This letter the Duchess of Marlborough carried to 
 the Duchess of Bedford to open her eyes, but with no success ; she only 
 said, ' You may be easy, for both mother and daughter are gone to 
 France.' — Walpole to Miss Berry. 
 
General Gunning and Jiis Daughter Gunilda. 1 15 
 
 And these are two Dukes, 
 
 Whose serious rebukes 
 Frightened the Marquises shy of the horn 
 Who flew from the Maiden all for Lorn, 
 Who now by her friends is tattered and turn ; 
 
 But chief by Ma'am Bowen 
 
 To whom it is owing 
 
 That Minitie Gunning 
 
 Has used all her cunning 
 
 The groom to prevent 
 
 That never was sent 
 
 To carry the note 
 
 That never was wrote. 
 
 This is the General somewhat too bold 
 
 Whose head was too hot, though his heart was too cold ; 
 
 Who made himself single before it was meet 
 
 And his wife and his daughter turned into the street 
 
 To please the two Dukes, 
 
 Whose serious rebukes 
 Frightened the Marquises shy of the horn 
 Who flew from the Maiden all for Lorn, 
 Who now by her friends is tattered and torn ; 
 
 But chief by Ma'am Bowen 
 
 To whom it is owing 
 
 That Minifie Gunning 
 
 Has used all her cunning 
 
 The groom to pi-event 
 
 That never was sent 
 
 To carry the note 
 
 That nobody wrote. 
 
 In the same year, Septeinbei-, 1791, Lord Blandford married 
 a daughter of Lord Galloway, and soon the whole story was 
 forgotten. Mrs. and Miss Gunning reappeared in London 
 under the asgis of the old Duchess of Bedford, "as bold as 
 ever," Walpole says; "but their place in town talk is occupied 
 by Lady Mary Duncan." 
 
 So ended this extraordinary society scandal, which was due 
 to the mad ambition of mother and daughter. The amazing 
 folly of the whole adventure, and the manner in which the 
 young lady and her parents acted, can only be accounted for 
 by what Walpole called '' the amazing folly of the race of 
 Gunning." " So," he says, " is their whole story ; the two 
 beautiful sisters were exalted almost as high as they could go. 
 Countessed and double duchessed, and now the family have 
 dragged themselves down into the very dirt." 
 
 The General was to have his share of obloquy. Left to 
 
ii6 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 himself, for the Duchess of Argyll had died this same year, he 
 fell into evil courses, got into debts and difficulties — it was said, 
 ran away with the wife of his tailor — finally an action was 
 brought against him for an intrigue with a Mrs. Duberly ; a 
 jury, swayed by Erskine's eloquence, awarded the injured 
 husband 5000Z. The General, accompanied by Mrs. Duberly, 
 went to Italy, and lived at Naples, where he died.^ The day 
 before his death he altered his will, and left his wife 8000Z., 
 and to his daughter his estate in Ireland. This seems as if 
 it were a tardy act of justice, and gives an idea that reparation 
 was needed ; this, however, may not have been so, but that a 
 sense of what was due to his wife and daughter influenced 
 General Gunning to make a just disposition at the last. 
 
 Mrs. Gunning did not long survive her husband. She died 
 in Deen Street in 1800, and was buried in Westminster 
 Abbey. Three years after her mother's death the once famous 
 Gunilda married Major Plunkett, of Kinnaird, in Roscommon. 
 He was a gentleman of good family and a Catholic ; having 
 taken a prominent part in the Irish rebellion of 1798, he had 
 been sentenced to death ; he managed to effect his escape to 
 France, and was excepted from the act of indemnity. After his 
 marriage the influence of his wife's relations procured him 
 liberty to reside quietly in England for many years ; he and 
 his wife lived at Long Melford, Suffolk, his presence being 
 winked at by the government. Here Gunilda seems to have 
 re-established friendly relations with her family ; she was 
 very popular in the county, and the father of a gentleman still 
 residing at Long Melford was well acquainted with her, and 
 considered her a very charming woman." She occupied her- 
 self writing books ; one of these, entitled " The Man of 
 Fashion," was published in 1815 and inscribed to the Princess 
 Charlotte, by the daughter of the late Lieut.- General Gunning, 
 and the niece of the late Duchess of Argyll and the Countess 
 of Coventry. Mrs. Plunkett died in 1823, and is buried at 
 Long Melford, where a handsome monument was erected to 
 
 ' Before his death he contributed to the Gunning annals " An 
 Apology for his life " — a most unreadable biography. 
 - Mr. Almack, of Long Melford. 
 
General Gunning and his Dangkter Gunilda. 1 1 7 
 
 her memory by her husband. After her death Major Plunkett 
 received a full pardon, and returned to his own country with 
 his two daughters. 
 
 There are Gunnings still living in the County Roscommon/ 
 but they do not descend from either Bryan or John Gunning. 
 There was a Lieutenant George Gunning, of the 1st Dragoon 
 Guards, who was at the battle of Waterloo ; this gentleman 
 wrote a book about his own branch of the Gunnings, and 
 the strategic position of the troops at Waterloo. 
 
 ' Mr. Alexander, of St. John's, Roscommon, is a grandson of the 
 Rev. Alexander Gunning. 
 
PEG WOFFINGTON. 
 
 The story of this beautiful and gifted woman is well known. 
 The incidents of her career have furnished the subject of 
 memoir, novel, and play. All the elements of romance are, 
 indeed, to be met with in her strangely eventful life, which 
 began in extreme poverty, turned to brilliant success, and 
 ended tragically. 
 
 All the world is acquainted with the incidents of her child- 
 hood ; how she went barefoot through the streets of Dublin, 
 calling out " all this fine salad for a halfpenny." Her mother, 
 who was a hawker of fruit and vegetables, carried on her head 
 a basket of these commodities placed, as was the custom, 
 upon a wisp of hay, and bore in her arms an infant, Peggy's 
 sister. Mrs. Murphy (for Woffington was a name adopted 
 much later for stage purposes) was a most respectable woman 
 of her class. Her husband, who was a bricklayer, had 
 been killed by a fall from a ladder, leaving his widow and 
 two children with no means of support, save what could be 
 earned by the basket. Later on, however, some Trinity 
 College students, who knew the little family, subscribed to buy 
 the poor widow a sitting in College Green, where she set up a 
 stall for fruit, etc., and carried on a brisk business, helped by 
 little Peggy, who was a general favourite. Their home was a 
 miserable garret in George's Court, an ill-smelling, wretched 
 alley close to Fownes Court, and abutting on the narrow, 
 picturesque quay which borders the Liffey. 
 
 *' There is a tide in the affairs of men which taken at the 
 flood leads " we know where. This, which is meant meta- 
 phorically, had actual shape with Peggy, for it was by the 
 I'iver's side that fortune found her out. Some distance from 
 Fownes Court and close to St. Patrick's Cathedral, there was 
 
Peg Woffington. 1 1 9 
 
 a stream called the Poddle, which was tributary to the river, 
 and where the poorer women of the Liberties, as this portion 
 of the city was called, washed their clothes. 
 
 A certain Madame Violante/ who had lately come to Dublin 
 as a tight-rope dancer, one morning passing through this 
 quarter, was attracted by the beauty of the child, who was help- 
 ing her mother with the family washing, and stopped to speak 
 to her. This lady was manageress of a dancing booth in Fownes 
 Court, and was on the look-out for juvenile performers. She 
 soon arranged matters with Mrs. Murphy, Peggy was trans- 
 ferred to her care, and began her theatrical education in the 
 year 1727. " Woffington," says Mr. Tom Taylor, " was actually 
 one of the children who were appended to the feet of Madame 
 Violante, a famous dancer on the tight rope in Dublin.'^ This 
 exhibition, however, did not draw, and Madame Violante 
 turned her thoughts to a novelty. Gay's Beggar's Oj^era was 
 just then the rage in London. All the more so because it 
 had been the cause of the quarrel between the author and his 
 patroness, the Duchess of Queensberry. Madame Violante 
 conceived the idea of training children to sing and act the 
 opera ; her dancing booth was turned into a stage, and the 
 venture was a signal success, Margaret's first mark being 
 made as Polly Peachum. All Dublin went to see the juvenile 
 actors. Mrs. Delany, who was then on her first visit to the 
 capital, where she was destined to spend so much of her life, 
 records going to Madame Violante's booth, when the Duke 
 of Dorset, then occupying the post of Viceroy, patronized the 
 show in Fownes Court. 
 
 Madame Violante, after a time, disappears from the story^ 
 and we find the young girl, now fourteen, engaged at Aungier 
 Street Theatre, then under the management of Elrington. He 
 
 ' Madame Violante was an Italian rope-dancer, famed for her feats of 
 strength and agility. During the years 1726 and 1727 she had exhibited 
 her extraordinary performances in London, meeting with great success. 
 In 1728 or so she opened a booth in Dublin. Her achievements were 
 not wholly pleasing; she made forcible appeals to the lovers of the 
 dreadful and the dangerous. She danced upon the high rope with 
 children in some way appended to her feet, by way of enhancing the 
 difficulties of her task, and affording the pubhc the prized spectacle of 
 imperilled life. As Madame Violante's apprentice, Mistress Margaret 
 Woffington first appeared in public tied to the feet of her mistress. 
 
I20 Some Celebi'ated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 had taken her at the request of Coffey, a playwright of 
 some merit, who, having discovered the talent of the un- 
 educated girl, took great pains to teach her several parts. At 
 first, however, she merely danced, and sometimes sang between 
 the acts. Opportunities are never wanting where there is 
 real merit, and Margaret's chance came much in the manner 
 we are accustomed to read of in a three volume novel. 
 
 It was in the winter of 1737, and the play of Hamlet was 
 announced, with a lady of well-known reputation and mature 
 years in the part of Ophelia. A day or so before the date 
 fixed sudden illness seized upon the actress, and the piece was 
 about to be postponed, when Margaret, taking courage, im- 
 plored the manager to let her fill the part. Managers were 
 then not so flinty -hearted as they are now : they were romantic 
 beings, and must have been somewhat easy-going. There re- 
 mained the difficulty that the house had been commanded for 
 the benefit of the sick lady. Margaret, however, had troops 
 of friends, all the students of Trinity College were her devoted 
 slaves — they packed the house from floor to ceiling ; they 
 applauded every word said by their favourite. Her youth 
 and beauty did the rest — her success was triumphant. The 
 morning paper predicted a career for the debutante, and 
 Elrington at once gave her a tangible proof of what success 
 meant by taking her at a regular salary to play such parts as 
 Nell in the Devil to Pay, Sylvia in the Conscious Lovers, and 
 The liecruitinrj Officer. 
 
 Margaret, however, had a restless disposition, and panted 
 for further distinction, her ambition leading her to try her 
 strength on the larger field of the London stage. Gossip 
 said she went there in company with Mr. Taaff"e/ one of 
 her many admirers ; this was not indeed unlikely — poor 
 Margaret^s morals being of an easy kind. It was also said 
 that this gentleman, in order to marry a rich heiress, deserted 
 
 ' There is no certainty as to this story of Mr. Taaffe ; a gentleman of 
 the name is mentioned as belonging to White's clab about this date, 
 and at this time Horace Walpole writes of " Mr. Taaffe having be- 
 haved disgracefully," but he does not say in what manner. In 1751, a 
 Mr. Taaffe was concerned in an escapade of robbing a Jew in Paris in 
 company with Edward Wortley Montague, Lady Mary Wortley Mon- 
 tague's son. 
 
Peo Woffingion. 121 
 
 her after a few weeks. . . In the summer of 1739 we find her 
 seeking an engagement with Rich, or, at least, a trial previous 
 to a settled agreement. It was a bold venture for the half- 
 educated pupil of Madame A-^iolante to measure swords with 
 such actresses as then held the stage. Mrs. Pritchard, Olive, 
 Gibber, Hunter, were all established favourites, and there 
 seemed no place for her. 
 
 Margaret had the grand assurance of youth, and the con- 
 viction that once she had the opportunity, she would make he^' 
 mark. She managed to persuade Rich, the manager, to give 
 her a chance at Covent Garden, or, in all probability, she found 
 some patron who did her this service. What lends colour to 
 this supposition is that her first appearance took place upon a 
 night when the Prince and Princess of Wales honoured the 
 theatre with their presence. 
 
 This was on November 6th, 1740, just thirteen years after 
 Margaret had commenced her theatrical career, projected from 
 Madame Violante's feet. The play was The Tiecruilmg Officer, 
 with a variety of other entertainments, dancing between the 
 acts, and the farce of What D'ye Call it. 
 
 Prince Fred and his hard shrewish wife, later on to become 
 the most unpopular woman in England, had a grand box with 
 a canopy of scarlet silk, adorned with gold tissue. They were 
 a most unhappy pair, crushed and mortified by their un- 
 natural parents, and presenting a spectacle very unlike that 
 of the existing royal family. When we look through old 
 memoirs and histories of this embroidered, befrilled, wicked, 
 and delightful 18th century, there is nothing strikes us more 
 than the undignified squabbles between the royal Georges and 
 their heirs ; the nation took part in these domestic quarrels, now 
 siding with the father, now with the son. George II., who 
 was of a small mind and given to spiteful revenge, was wont 
 to make his resentment felt by those who took the young 
 prince's part, or showed him any respect. He carried this 
 feeling so far as to refuse his patronage to the tradesmen who 
 supplied his son, or to the managers of public entertainments, 
 who, like Rich, gave the prince a royal reception.' 
 
 The Becrniting Officer reads now as a dull play ; one cannot 
 In the quarrels between George III. and his son we have a repeti- 
 
122 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 imagine how it could have been made so delightful as it seems 
 to have been to our great grandfathers ; it has none of the 
 fun of The Country Girl. Nevertheless, Miss Woffington 
 scored a great success, probably because she appeared for the 
 first time in man's clothes. All through her theatrical career 
 Peg fancied the wearing of masculine attire ; her fine 
 figure and beautiful feet and ankles showed to more advan- 
 tage than in the singularly voluminous and unbecoming attire 
 then worn by actresses. We must also remember that in the 
 eighteenth century there were "no burlesques" or leg pieces. 
 Actresses, although by no means either modest or moral, 
 would have been hooted ofi" the stage had they appeared in 
 the light garments in which our favourites often show them- 
 selves. Those, and they were very few, who wished to exhibit 
 such good points as they possessed, did so by playing men's 
 parts. We are told that Woffington was a wonderfully good 
 imitation of a man — her air, graceful, yet rakish, was in- 
 imitably gallant, and provoked applause before she opened her 
 mouth. When she spoke her delivery was pert and pointed, 
 and her witchery of eye fascinating. Her Sir Harry Wildair 
 in Farquhar's comedy, which she revived, was simply 
 irresistible. The part was supposed to be so difficult that 
 since the death of Wilkes, who had created it, the piece 
 had not been put on the stage. Now it produced a perfect 
 '^ furore ; " the whole town went to see the new actress ; " the 
 men were in love with her, the women envied her ;" her tall, 
 elegant figure was seen to the utmost advantage in the rich 
 dress ; she handled her sword with an elegant nonchalance, 
 and played the rake with such infinite spirit, as to give a flat 
 contradiction to what Farquhar had said, that when Wilkes 
 died Sir Hai-ry might go to Jubilee. And yet this represent- 
 ing of men's parts by the weaker sex is open to much ques- 
 tion from an artistic point of view. That Shakespeare set the 
 example in many of his plays does not make the pi'ecedent 
 applicable, as that great master of all dramatic propriety never 
 
 tion of the same story. In both cases the mothers of the princes did 
 nothing towards softening, bnt everything to increase, the animosity 
 between father and son. 
 
Peg Woffington. 123 
 
 allowed the womau's nature to be obscured. In " Rosalind '^ 
 her womanly weakness of body and mind shows transparently 
 through her disguise. Garrick always maintained that it was 
 impossible for a woman to usurp a man's character ; although 
 she might adopt his dress^ it was a mere pro tempore persona- 
 tion, and never deceived anyone. Just in the same way a man 
 dressed in woman's clothes is easily detected. Ill-natured 
 persons affirmed that Garrick's opinion on this subject was 
 dictated altogether by jealousy of Mrs. Woffington's success 
 in a part which, in his hands, was a complete failure ; he 
 never played it more than twice, whereas Mrs. Woffington's 
 undramatic rendering had a run of twenty nights, which was 
 then considered a triumph. 
 
 Her engagement with Rich was now signed and sealed, 
 and her salary raised to nine pounds a week. This would be 
 considered poor pay for a star in our theatres, but in the 
 last century the star system was not known, and where there 
 were several leading ladies the profits had to be more evenly 
 divided. A curious, but rather significant, change took place 
 after Margaret Woffington had made her hit in Sir Harry. 
 Up to this, she had been set down in the bills as Miss 
 Woffington, but from this time she appears with the prefix 
 of Mrs. 
 
 This was Garrick's first season in London ; his fame was 
 only beginning, and he fell frantically in love with the new 
 actress. There was everything to attract them together 
 — the same age, the same profession, the same struggle 
 to win a place for themselves. Garrick, whose taste 
 was refined, was more taken by the tender, pensive mood 
 Margaret could assume at will, than by her bold and reckless 
 gaiety. He addressed her in refined verses that show, at this 
 time at all events, he was serious in his wish to make her 
 his wife ; and yet had a little doubt that she was worthy of 
 the honour. 
 
 SONG TO SYLVIA. 
 
 If truth can fix thy wavering heart 
 
 Let Damon urge his claim, 
 He feels the passion void of art, 
 
 The pure, the constant flame. 
 
124 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Centtiry. 
 
 Though sighing swains their torments tell. 
 
 Their sensual love contemn, 
 They only prize the beauteous shell 
 
 But slight the inward gem. 
 
 By age your beauty will decay, 
 
 Your mind improve with years 
 As when the blossoms fade away 
 
 The ripening fruit 'appears. 
 
 May Heaven and Sylvia grant my suit 
 
 And bless the future hour, 
 That Damon who can taste the fruit 
 
 May gather every flower. 
 
 For three years Garrick was her devoted lover; iu 1742 
 they went to Dublin, both engaged to play at the new theatre 
 in Smoke Alley. Both were sure of a brilliant reception. 
 Margaret was, indeed, an old favourite, and had been, as we 
 know, the child of the town ; she now returned with the 
 cachet of London favour upon her performance. Garrick's 
 success on this occasion has been chronicled by the historians 
 of the Irish stage. "■ The theatre was not unworthy of the 
 actor; it was built upon the best principles, was spacious, 
 and remarkable for the excellent opportunities it afforded 
 for seeing and hearing ; it was, besides, the largest theatre 
 in Dublin ; the stage was, however, cramped and small. 
 Only the year before, all the new improvements had been 
 introduced ; there was a spacious crush room or saloon, 
 where the company waited after the play was over, chatting 
 loudly until the carriages or chairs came.''' This was always a 
 matter of difficulty, for Smoke, or Smock Alley, as it was 
 afterwards called, was a miserable lane close to the river side, 
 but wide enough for only one carriage to pass at a time. 
 Placards were issued begging ladies not to wear hoops, as 
 without them it would be easier for the carriage or chair to 
 make its way, to say nothing of giving more room in the 
 boxes. The noise made by the block in the alley, the shout- 
 ing of the torch-bearers, the swearing of the coachmen, and 
 the quarrels of the footmen, made sleep impossible for the 
 inhabitants of the miserable houses in the narrow lane ; 
 many of them had their heads out of the windows, making 
 choice observations on the ladies coming out of the theatre 
 
Peg Woffington. 125 
 
 and their cavaliers. Hardly a night passed without a quarrel 
 between some of the fashionable '' bucks,'' and a duel would 
 be the consequence/ During this engagement Margaret 
 played constantly with Garrick as Ophelia to his Hamlet, 
 while he was Plume to her Sylvia. 
 
 On their return to London they set up a joint establishment 
 at 6, Bow Street, with Macklin to act as chaperone; this curious 
 arrangement must have caused some surprise, but it does not 
 seem that it offended in any way against the ideas of propriety 
 or evoked any censure. The financial arrangements were 
 carefully looked into, the lady paying her share^ and the ac- 
 counts were audited by Garrick. The trio lived comfortably, 
 but it was remarked that in Garrick's months of house- 
 keeping everything was conducted parsimoniously. 
 
 " I remember," says Dr. Johnson, '^ drinking tea with him 
 long ago, when Peg Woffington made it, and he grumbled at 
 her for making it too strong." 
 
 This household arrangement was dissolved by mutual 
 consent as such arrangements generally are ; either in conse- 
 quence of the heavy debts the actress had contracted, or that 
 her inconstancy disgusted her lover, who of all men was the 
 least likely to condone her irregularities. 
 
 He was jealous of the actress's many admirers, and in- 
 deed was growing weary of his fickle mistress. Still, the 
 engagement was not broken off, their relations continuing 
 in a fitful manner, but with little love on his side. There 
 was no doubt he had every reason to complain, and that he 
 did right in finally breaking with her. No power on earth 
 could have made her loyal to her lover, but that he had all 
 the love her capricious nature was capable of is equally cer- 
 tain. Their final parting was, however, delayed. She went 
 to live at Teddington, where she amused herself making fools 
 of old men like Gibber and M'Swiney. There was a curious 
 circle at her villa, made up principally of jovial students and 
 professors ; here, too, came that strange heroine of the drama, 
 
 ' The overcrowding of the theatre in the very height of a hot summer 
 produced an epidemic from which the city suffered severely ; it was 
 called the Garrick fever. 
 
126 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 George Anne Bellamy, then in lier early youtb, and sighing 
 to be an actress ; also Mrs. Woffington's sister, she who had, 
 as we know, shared with the fruit and vegetables the privi- 
 lege of being hawked about the streets of Dublin. Margaret's 
 first care on realizing a certain income was to send her young 
 sister to a convent in France ; and now Miss Polly had come 
 home, and was an exceedingly pretty, sweet-looking gii'l, with 
 gentle, captivating ways. She showed some gifts for the 
 stage, and this summer it was proposed to make a trial of her 
 abilities in private theatricals. The play was chosen and the 
 parts cast in a moment. Garrick, Orestes ; Miss Bellamy, 
 Andromache ; Polly, Hermione ; and Mr. Sullivan, a fellow of 
 Trinity College, Dublin, Pyrrhns. All the neighbourhood were 
 invited, and came, but the honours fell to Miss Bellamy, with 
 whose acting Garrick and Sheridan, who were amongst the 
 spectators, were much pleased. This ended in her going on 
 the stage where her mother had been many years. 
 
 Polly, however, did far better on the wider stage of the 
 world. Her beauty and sweetness captivated a young clergy- 
 man who was present on the night of the theatricals. This 
 was the Honble. and Rev. Robert Cholmondeley, third son to 
 the Earl of Cholmondeley. The Earl was a man much distin- 
 guished for his merits ; he held many high appointments, being 
 Master of the Horse to Frederick, Prince of Wales, Chancellor 
 of the Duchy of Roxburghe, member of the Privy Council. 
 His wife was the only daughter of Sir Robert Walpole, Earl of 
 Orford. It will be imagined how a family of such position 
 should view the introduction of a sister of the celebrated Peg 
 Woffington into their domestic circle. The girl might have 
 been as good as she was pretty, still, they may be pardoned for 
 doubting it, and for objecting very strongly to a connection 
 which they considered a degradation to one of their son's 
 rank and calling. The young people had determined to marry, 
 and the Rev. Robert snapped ;his fingers at parental opposi- 
 tion, especially as Mrs. Woffington had undertaken to provide 
 for his increased expenses. Whether this fact had any efi'ect 
 upon softening the Earl's prejudice, or whether Mrs. Woffing- 
 ton's fascinations did the work, it is impossible to say. Lord 
 
Peg Woffington. 127 
 
 Cholmondeley travelled to Teddington to fulminate his 
 decree of separation between his son and Polly, but after an 
 hour^s conversation with his beautiful hostess, he withdrew all 
 his objections, and received his future daughter-in-law with 
 kindness. When, however, he began to assure Mrs. Woffing- 
 ton that her influence had reconciled him to the match, she 
 answered him with some spirit, '•' My lord, I have more reason 
 to be offended with it than you have, for before I had only 
 one beggar to support, now I have two.'" 
 
 All this time the actress was working hard. She was the 
 mainstay of Rich's theatre, showing a sense of duty towards 
 the public and loyalty to the manager which, unfortunately, 
 she lacked in other relations. Admirers crowded round her, 
 men of indifiFerent character, as Lord Darnley, Hanbury 
 
 ' This was hardly true. The Eev. Robert had two livings, one at St. 
 Andrew's, the other at Huntingdon, so that he could not have been 
 such a pauper. After her marriage, Mrs. Cholmondeley became a well- 
 known character in society, both in London and Bath. She was of the 
 blue-stocking coterie, and considered a witty, vivacious, rattling woman, 
 whose parties were more relished by Sir Joshua than those of either 
 Mrs. Vesey or Mrs. Montagu. She is constantly mentioned in Miss 
 Burney's memoirs as an authority. " Mrs. Cholmondeley has been 
 reading and praising Evelina, and my father is quite delighted at her 
 approbation, and told Susan I could not have a greater compliment 
 than making two such women my friends as Mrs. Thrale and Mrs. 
 Cholmondeley.'' On another occasion she gives a lively sketch of the 
 whole family in that graphic style which places before the reader the 
 scene and the actors in it. " Mr. Cholmondeley is a clergyman, 
 nothing shining either in person or manners, but rather grim in 
 the first and glum in the last. Yet he appears to have humour 
 himself and to enjoy it in others. Miss Fanny Cholmondeley is a 
 rather pretty pale girl ; very young and inartificial, and though tall 
 and grown up, treated by her family as a child, and seemingly well 
 content to really think herself such." The narrative then goes on to 
 describe the entrance of Mrs. Cholmondeley, and to retail with the 
 writer's usual wearisome exactness all she said in praise of the most 
 wonderful book that ever was wrote. She seems on this occasion to have 
 acted with the vulgarity with which Mr. Taylor charges her. " I was 
 once," he says, "in company with Mrs. Cholmondeley, who seemed to 
 think herself a wit, endeavoured to monopolize the conversation, and 
 evidently betrayed the vulgarity of her origin." Her daughters 
 married into good families. Miss Fanny became, in 1788, the wife of 
 an Irish baronet, Sir William Bellingham, then one of Pitt's secre- 
 taries. There is at Castle Bellingham a portrait of Mrs. Cholmondeley 
 by Cotes, a sweet, gentle face with a charming expression. The family 
 have also a fine picture of Peg Woffington. Lady Bellingham, wheu a 
 child, sat for Sir Joshua's well-known picture Grossing the Brook. 
 
128 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 Williams, and others of the same class, who brought her 
 name into disrepute. Such was the levity of her character, 
 that she encouraged them at the very moment that the 
 marriage with Garrick seemed possible. He had actually 
 bought the wedding ring, and she told Murphy he tried it on 
 her finger, and yet, with the very goal in sight for which she 
 had been for so many years sighing, she could not remain 
 steadfast to her lover. But although her conduct was such 
 as to merit the blame of all virtuous persons, those who throw 
 stones at her should remember her early training before con- 
 demning her. From the streets of Dublin to Madam Vio- 
 lante's booth, from thence to a still worse school of vice, the 
 green room, crowded as it then was with all the fashionable 
 roues of the day, surrounded by men who made a jest of all 
 virtue ; without a good woman to hold out a hand to save her, 
 was it any wonder that she should have thought but little of 
 even outward morality ? Nor is Garrick free altogether from 
 blame ; his delay in the first instance was not so much caused 
 by his scruples as by his parsimony, and when he was rising 
 to a position of wealth and honour he did not care to have the 
 drag of so doubtful a wife. His friends, too, persuaded him 
 that such a marriage would be injurious to him. 
 
 The whole matter worried him, and it was doubtless true 
 what he one day told her, " that he had lain tossing all the 
 night thinking of this wretched marriage, that it was a foolish 
 thing for both, who might do better in separate lines, and 
 that in short he had worn the shirt of ' Dejanira.' " 
 
 "Then throw it off at once, sir," said she in her shrill, in- 
 harmonious voice. " From this moment I decline to speak to 
 you, unless in the course of our professional business." And 
 so ended their love idyll, begun in sunshine, finishing in 
 storm. 
 
 Their quarrel soon became known, and the public interested 
 itself in the separation between their favourites. Most people 
 sided with Mrs. Woffington, and caricatures bearing very 
 hard upon the actor appeared in the shop windows. There 
 was no doubt he deserved it. He had asked her to be his 
 wife with the full knowledge of the life she was leading, and 
 
MRS. WOFFINGTOX. 
 
 lTofncepaffel23. 
 
Peg Wojjington. 129 
 
 he only awoke to the fact when his fancy had passed away. In 
 the ardour of his passion he had written 
 
 " Once more I'll tune my vocal shell, 
 To hills and dales my passion tell 
 A flame which Time can never quell 
 Which burns for thee, ' my Peggy.' " 
 
 And now, when it suited him to throw her aside, he reviled 
 her coarsely. These are the bitter lines in which he took 
 leave of her : — 
 
 " I know your Sophistry, I know your Art 
 Which all your dupes and fools cajole, 
 Yourself you give without your heart, 
 All may share that but not your soul."' 
 
 This ungentlemanly attack upon the woman he had once 
 loved to infatuation did not improve Garrick's position ; 
 there was a strong feeling against him when the actress 
 gave her version of the aflfair. Altogether the actor suffered 
 in popular feeling more than she did — nor did her spirits 
 sink under his desertion. However, it is not always the 
 wounds that bleed outwardly that are the most dangerous, and 
 it may be safely affirmed that long after she had passed from 
 Garrick's memory, his conduct rankled in her mind. She 
 became from that time less womanly, harder, and more reck- 
 lessly pursued the downward path.' After the final rupture, the 
 quondam lovers only met on the stage, where they had occasion- 
 ally to appear as lovers, which must have been embarrassing. 
 Time, however, which softens most things, accustomed both to 
 the situation, but worse was to come. Tate Wilkinson, one of 
 the most entertaining of theatrical raconteurs, gives an amus- 
 ing account of the change in her demeanour after Garrick 
 became joint patentee of Drury Lane with Lacy. No longer 
 having the manager to support her in her haughty and some- 
 
 * After her engagement with Garrick was broken o£E, she was seen 
 by Tate Wilkinson at the theatre in Paris, attended by Owen M'Swiney, 
 her ex-manager. She was quite captivated by Angelo, the well-known 
 fencing master, and made no secret of her admiration for him. When he 
 appeared at a pubHc fencing match in Paris she presented him with a 
 bunch of roses which he pinned on his breast and defended against all 
 efforts to dislodge it. She returned to London with this gentleman. 
 
130 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 what tyrannical dismissal of anyone who offended her, she had 
 to keep her easily excited anger within due bounds. 
 
 Neither could she queen it over her rivals, Mrs. Olive and 
 Mrs. Gibber, both ladies, especially the latter, being very much 
 in the managers' good graces. No two leaders of fashion ever 
 hated one another more unreservedly than did these great 
 dames of the theatre, Mrs. Olive and Mrs. Woffington ; in the 
 green-room their bitter conflicts, their frequent interchange of 
 angry looks, words, and gestures occasioned much diversion. 
 Mrs. Olive was coarse, violent and very rude : Mrs. Woffing- 
 ton was well bred and seemingly very calm ; she often threw 
 Olive off her guard by an arch severity which the warmth of 
 the other could not parry. 
 
 Margaret's proud nature must have keenly felt the sting of 
 seeing others preferred to her, and, as soon as she could, she 
 quitted Drury Lane and returned to her first manager. Rich, 
 at Oovent Garden. There she remained for three years, play- 
 ing the best parts. She spared no pains nor trouble to learn 
 the drudgery of her profession, and in some characters she 
 has never been excelled, her liosalind was perfect, so too 
 Beatrice in Much Ado about Nothing : her greatest triumphs 
 were always in comedy. Nature had, indeed, given her many 
 qualities for tragic parts, but the harshness of her voice marred 
 her success in pathetic situations. One of her critics said 
 " she harJied out her sentences with dissonant notes of voice as 
 ever offended a critical ear ; " another, that the violent as 
 well as the tender passions grated on the audience when 
 delivered in her dissonant voice. This defective intonation 
 exposed her many times to the ridicule of the gallery ; she 
 never was able to overcome it, and no doubt, like her other 
 and more serious failings, had its origin in the streets of 
 Dublin, where in her childhood she injured her throat by 
 crying, " Salad a halfpenny a bunch.'' 
 
 Mrs. Delany, writing in 1752, says: "Mrs. Woffington 
 did the part of Lady Towneley better than I have seen it 
 done since Mrs. Oldfield's time. Her person is fine, her 
 arms a little ungainly, and her voice disagreeable, but she 
 pronounces her words perfectly and she speaks sensibly. . , ." 
 
Peg Woffington. 131 
 
 Victor, the managei' of the Smock Alley Theatre in Dublin, 
 used almost the same words in speaking of Peg WoflSngton's 
 " Lady Towneley." 
 
 It must have been in Dublin that Mrs. Delany saw Mrs. 
 Woffington play the part. She went there in 1751 in con- 
 sequence of a serious quarrel with both manager and public. 
 " I remember," says Tate Wilkinson, " when Barry, the divine 
 Barry, either had, or pretended to have, frequent sore throats. 
 On these occasions the comedies in which Mrs. Woffington 
 played principal were brought forward," and at the bottom 
 of the bill were generally announced, in letters of unusual 
 size, the names of Quin, Barry, and Mrs. Gibber — this where 
 she alone should have stood capital. Mrs. Woffington was 
 not one who would tamely submit to be so placed before the 
 public in a subordinate position, neither would she consent to 
 be thrust forward as a stop gap. Of this she constantly 
 complained, and at last declared that the next time it 
 happened she would not play. The next day Jane Shore 
 was announced, with Mrs. Gibber on the title-role, but im- 
 mediately after was withdrawn and The Constant Couple, 
 with Mrs. Woffington as Sir Harry Wildair, substituted. 
 Mrs. Woffington sent word she was ill, and positively refused 
 to play. Rich was forced to substitute The Misers. Un- 
 fortunately she chose a bad moment. The public were be- 
 ginning to tire of these continual disappointments, and on 
 her next appearance, as Lady Jane Grey, the whole weight of 
 their resentment fell on her. 
 
 " Whoever is living," goes on the narrator, " and saw her 
 that night, will own they never beheld any figure half so 
 beautiful since. Her anger gave a glow to her complexion, 
 and even added lustre to her charming eyes. She behaved 
 with great resolution, and treated their rudeness with glorious 
 contempt. She left the stage, was called for, and with 
 infinite persuasion was prevailed upon to return. However 
 she did, walked forward, and told them she was there ready 
 and willing to perform her character if they chose to permit 
 her, that the decision was theirs, on or off, just as they 
 pleased; it was a matter of indifference to her.^' The " ous " 
 K 2 
 
132 Some Celebrated Irish BeatUies of Last Century. 
 
 had it, and all went smoothly afterwards, but she always per- 
 sisted that the row was got up by Rich. The two principal 
 houses in London bein o- now closed against her, she returned 
 to Dublin, and was engaged by Sheridan for the season at a 
 salary of 400Z., which he gave her reluctantly enough and 
 only on the pressure of friends ; but she made such a furore 
 that the manager netted 4000Z., and gladly engaged her for 
 the next season at double the price. In the city of her birth 
 every honour was paid to her. All the public prints were full 
 of her praises. She was compared to Julius Cassar, as having 
 come, seen, and conquered. 
 
 Miss Bellamy, who was also in the company, relates, in 
 her curious memoirs, several amusing scenes, as when Mrs. 
 Furnival stole the dress she was to wear as Cleopatra, and 
 another time how she and Mrs. Woffington had a battle royal 
 over a yellow satin dress with a purple robe. The ladies of 
 the company often used language only fitted for fish- wives. 
 Here, too, report had it, the beautiful Miss Gunnings came to 
 inspect the stage wardrobe, and were helped by Mrs. Woffington 
 to choose the dresses they wore at Lord Harrington's ball ; 
 but this was merely a story of the hour. 
 
 Mrs. Woffington always loved the little Irish capital — her 
 native place — and was at her best when under the influence 
 of old associations, full of heart and spirit and carrying her 
 udience (who were critical judges) by an effervescence of 
 gaiety which, without being vulgar, had an infectious buoyancy 
 that delighted all who witnessed the performance. An old 
 playgoer, writing to Lady Orrery, tells her that " the acting 
 of the brilliant Mrs. Woffington is, in general, admirable. In 
 Andromache she is dignified and her deportment elegant ; in 
 Hermione she discovered talents as have not been displayed 
 since the celebrated Mrs. Porter." 
 
 This year, 1752, was a most brilliant season in Dublin. The 
 Duke of Dorset had just replaced good-natured Lord 
 Harrington. The new Viceroy had everything to make him 
 popular with a gay people like the Irish. He had governed 
 them before with singular success, and his munificent 
 hospitality at the Castle, which equalled, if it did not surpass 
 
Peg Woffington. 133 
 
 that of the Duke of Devonshire, was still fresh in the memory 
 of many, and doubtless proved a powerful factor in gaining him 
 popularity. He was also a patron of the drama, and con- 
 stantly visited the theatre, especially after the arrival of Mrs. 
 Woffington, whom he remembered as the little Polly Peachem 
 of Madame Violante's company, and who was, moreover, a more 
 recent friend. He gave her what was called " a command 
 night,'' a function which still holds its place amongst viceregal 
 festivities, and which is always considered a mark of particular 
 favour. In those days, when there was a goodly gathering of 
 rank to be found in the little city, and an unusual amount of 
 beauty, the scene must have been brilliant ; the Lord Mayor 
 and his aldermen attending in their robes, and all officers 
 being in uniform.' 
 
 This yeai', too, the Beef-Steak Club had been established 
 by Sheridan, with the view of "allowing the followers of 
 the Sock and Buskin to have some hours of social mirth 
 and relaxation;" the club met on Saturday in accordance with 
 the custom then prevailing at most theatres for the actors to 
 dine together on that day ; a very large room in Sheridan's 
 house adjoining the theatre was given up for the purpose of 
 the entertainment, and furnished with considerable taste, and 
 even elegance. By degrees, however, the original idea was 
 totally subverted. No performers, save one female, were 
 admitted, and although it was still called a club, the manager 
 alone defrayed the expenses. This year, when Mrs. Woffing- 
 ton allowed her name to be associated with it, it opened with 
 a list of from fifty to sixty persons, chiefly Lords and Members 
 of Parliament. About thirty of these sat down to dinner in 
 tlie large room, the only Thespian admitted being Mrs. Woffing- 
 ton, who was placed in a great chair at the head of the table, 
 
 ' This little show was up to quite lately highly popular in Dublin. 
 A retinue of some seven or eight carriages starts from the Castle, 
 each proceeding according to the rank of the parties. Soldiers and _a 
 band receive them at the colonnade of the theatre. The house is 
 crowded to the roof, the state boxes thrown into one, and set off with 
 mirrors, chandeliers, draperies. The manager, habited in a court suit 
 and holding a pair of wax candles, leads the way, and the Viceroy, 
 surrounded by a brilliant staff and a blaze of scarlet and gold, enters, 
 the whole house standing while the National Anthem is sung. — Fi*om 
 All the Year Bound. 
 
134 So7ne Celebrated Irish Dean lies of Last Century. 
 
 and was, by acclamation, elected President. '' It is easy to 
 believe that a club instituted on such lines, with a lovely 
 President animated by wit and spii'it, soon grew into the 
 favour of fashionable men, who were all friends of * the 
 Presidente/ " and " as not a glass of wine was then drunk 
 without giving a toast, we can imagine,'' says Victor, "the 
 strain of the toasts given at that club." This and the whole 
 style of the conversation and proceedings soon became a 
 matter of general talk and scandal, and rendered Sheridan 
 exceedingly unpopular. '^ The gay, the lovely, the volatile 
 Woffington/' says Hitchcock, " frankly avowed she preferred 
 men to women (as the latter only talked of silks and scandal). 
 She invited all the guests ; and the members who paid 
 notldncj were allowed to bring honorary members, by her 
 permission. *' He adds that " she filled her office to admiration, 
 and with the utmost propriety." 
 
 We may credit the admiration, but can hardly believe in 
 the propriety of the actress's conduct. As a proof of her total 
 want of such a quality, she put her name to some bold lines 
 addressed to the Viceroy, of which those here quoted will 
 give an idea of their tenour : — 
 
 May it please your Grace, with all submission, 
 
 I humljly offer you my petition. 
 
 Let others with as small pretensious, 
 
 Tease you for places or for pensions ; 
 
 7 scorn a pension or a place, 
 
 My sole design's upon Your Grace, 
 
 The sum of my petition this — 
 
 I claim, my lord, an annual kiss. 
 
 The impudent familiarity of these verses did not improve 
 Peg's position with the respectable portion of the community ; 
 at the same time it was well known she had never written them. 
 " Peg Woffington's verses," writes Mrs. Delany, " are decidedly 
 suited to the character of the woman, but not made by her.'' 
 The author was known to be Dr. Andrews, the Provost of 
 Trinity College, LL.D., and guardian of the youth of Dublin 
 University, who was on terms of the greatest intimacy with 
 Mrs. Woffington,' The ladies of Dublin very properly showed 
 ' The Provost's House in College Green was tilled with portraits of 
 
Peg Woffington. 135 
 
 theii' disapproval of the popular favourite's unwomanly bold- 
 ness, by withdrawing their patronage from li errand bestowing it 
 on Miss Bellamy, who had just come to Dublin, and was playing 
 minor parts at Sheridan's theatre. Ker benefit was patronized 
 by Lady Gormanston, Lady Kerry, Mrs. Butler, and Mrs. 
 O'Hara, all leaders of fashion. 
 
 So long, however, as Woffington was the " popular idol,'' 
 she cared very little for what was said of her, but pursued her 
 reckless course unheeding. The people deliglited in seeing 
 their old favourite, who many of them remembered running 
 barefoot through the very streets in which she now drove in 
 a grand coach, with a footman in livery on the footboard. 
 She showed the mob her lovely face with its glorious smile, and 
 they cheered her to the echo. On these occasions she generally 
 had her mother with her, to whom, to her credit, she always 
 behaved as an affectionate and generous daughter. The old 
 lady had every comfort,' and was to be seen at Adam and Eve, 
 or Clarendon Street Church, in a velvet cloak trimmed with 
 fringe, with a diamond ring on her finger, and an agate snuff- 
 box in her pocket. She was much considered in her own 
 circles. 
 
 Mrs. Murphy's ardent Catholicism must have received a 
 shock from a curious incident which occurred during Mrs. 
 Woffington's engagement and which astonished the town, albeit 
 it took a good deal to astonish the world of a hundred years 
 ago. The manager and the actress set off together to Quilca, 
 a small place Sheridan rented in the County Cavan, about 
 fifty miles from Dublin. " I was not in the secret," says 
 Victor, "and I wondered all the more, as I knew the 
 manager's private sentiments of that lady, which tallied with 
 my own ; viz., that she had captivating charms as a jovial, 
 witty, bottle-companion, but very few remaining as a mere 
 
 tlie actress in every one of lier characters. It was said Peg procured 
 him the appointment, and that he paid her 5000?. 
 
 ' Her filial duty to her old hawking mother was remarkable. When 
 a child she had always brought her every little present her talents 
 secured ; and when she came into the enjoyment of a regular salary she 
 settled 40L a year on her and two cjianges of apparel. — FitzGerald's 
 " Kings and Queens of an Hour." 
 
12,6 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century, 
 
 female." And now for the secret, which was presently, as 
 Scout says, " no secret at all ". . . Mrs. Woffington had been 
 left an annuity of 200Z. by her old admirer, Mr. Owen 
 M'Swiney, on condition that she abjured " the Roman faith, 
 and became a Protestant. " That she should have gone to Quilca 
 to pronounce her recantation before '' the Primate of the 
 Mountains/' accompanied by Mr. Sheridan, has an air of im- 
 probability, unless it was that she was afraid of Mrs. Murphy's 
 interposing her maternal authority. In any case, one may 
 say without lack of charity, that poor Peg was not a desirable 
 addition to either religion. Her sister, the lovely Mrs. 
 Cholmondeley, had conformed many years previously. . . 
 
 Her engagement in Dublin was now fated to come to an 
 end in rather a similar manner to that which marked 
 the end of her engagement with Eich in London. In the 
 days of which I am now writing the populace was as 
 easily excited about political matters as they are in our 
 more rational age ; for in Ireland every man, whatever else 
 he may not be, is sure to be a politician. The Duke of 
 Dorset, who had begun his Viceroyalty with every promise 
 of success, had suddenly become unpopular through the in- 
 troduction of a bill for paying a portion of the English 
 national debt out of the Irish revenue. This caused immense 
 dissatisfaction ; the bill was negatived by a small majority 
 of eight, and the patriot members were borne to their homes 
 on the shoulders of the triumphant mob. At this unfortunate 
 moment Sheridan produced the play of Mahomet, in which 
 there were some lines which the pit and gallery applied to 
 the Court party. Sheridan refused to allow the offensive 
 lines to be withdrawn or altered, on which a riot ensued, 
 which wrecked his theatre and put an end for the time to all 
 performances. Mrs. Woffington returned to the London 
 stage, reappearing at Covent Garden in September, 1754. 
 Her brilliant career was, however, near its close ; her stock 
 of health, upon which she had drawn too largely, began to 
 fail her, and a great change was noticed in her glorious 
 beauty. She struggled with gallant spirit against the inroads 
 of disease, but the final scene came at last. It is dramatically 
 
Peg Woffington. 137 
 
 told by Tate Wilkin sorij who was standing in the wings as 
 Mrs. Woffington, in Kosalind, and Mrs. Vincent, in Celia, 
 were going on the stage in the first act : — 
 
 " She went through Rosalind for four acts without my per- 
 ceiving that she was in the least disordered ; but in the fifth 
 act she complained of great indisposition. I offered her my 
 arm, the which she graciously accepted. I thought she 
 looked softened in her manner, and had less of the ' hauteur.' 
 When she came off at the quick change of dress, she again 
 complained of being ill, but got accoutred, and returned to 
 finish the part, and pronounced the epilogue speech : 'If it 
 be true that good wine needs no bush,' etc. But, when 
 arrived at, ' If I were a woman I would kiss as many of you 
 as had beards,' etc., her voice broke — she faltered — 
 endeavoured to go on, but could not proceed; then, in a 
 voice of tremor exclaimed, ' God ! God ! ' and tottered 
 to the stage-door speechless, where she was caught. The 
 audience of course applauded till she was out of sight, and 
 then sunk into awful looks of astonishment, both young and 
 old, before and behind the curtain, to see one of the most 
 handsome women of the age, a favourite principal actress, 
 and who had for several seasons given high entertainment, 
 struck so suddenly by the hand of Death, in such a time 
 and place, and in the prime of life.^' 
 
 It was thought that she could not survive many hours, but 
 she lingered for three years in a miserable condition, unable 
 to use her limbs, no longer recognizable as the lovely Peggy ; 
 she had become a mere shadow of her former self. She died 
 at the comparatively early age of forty, leaving the not in- 
 considerable sum of 5000L, which she bequeathed to her 
 sister, Mrs, Cholmondeley, much to the disappointment of 
 Colonel Ceesar of the Guards, who had been one of her many 
 friends, and who counted on inheriting what she had, with 
 which view he had induced her to make a romantic promise 
 that each should inherit from the other. The wills had been 
 actually executed, and the gallant colonel was assiduous in 
 his attentions, fearing that now her end was approaching 
 natural affection might assert itself, and that a new will 
 
138 Some Celebi^ated Irish Bemities of Last Century. 
 
 might be made in favour of Mrs. Cholmondeley. This is 
 what actually happened. Her sister took advantage of the 
 colonel's leaving the house one evening earlier than his usual 
 hour, and sent for the lawyer, and the will was altered to suit 
 her mind. One cannot but rejoice at the discomfiture of 
 Colonel Caesar. 
 
 The actress's charitable disposition had benefited the poor 
 of her neighbourhood very substantially ; she was lamented 
 by them bitterly, and they cherished her memory for many 
 years. She was buried in Teddington Churchyard, in a 
 shady corner of which there is a tablet set up against the 
 wall, with this inscription : — 
 
 " Near this monument lies the body of Margaret WofEngton, 
 spinster, born October, 1720, departed this life March 28, 
 1760, aged forty years." 
 
 Cold words enough, considering she had supplied a mother's 
 place to the sister, whose very position in life was due to the 
 actress's hard-earned money. 
 
 It was an autumn evening on which I visited Teddington 
 Churchyard, and stood before this mean little tablet which 
 roused my indignation. The wind sighed sadly, as it seemed 
 to me, over this proof of human ingratitude, and the air was 
 filled with profound sadness. But, after all, what does it 
 matter ? How can a few sculptured words, more or less, 
 avail to those who are shut out by that black wall that 
 divides them from us ? They do not know of our neglect, 
 nor of our sorrows ; is it not, therefore, as a sort of satis- 
 faction to our own grief that we raise these marble memorials 
 to those, who in life " we could caress with every tenderness 
 of speech and touch " ? 
 
 If, however, Mrs. Cholmondeley was not burdened with 
 too much sentiment she had a keen sense of economy. We 
 find that the same tablet did service for Master Horace 
 Cholmondeley, aged six months ! 
 
 And now, before taking leave of Peg, I should like to set 
 before my readers an admirable summary of her character 
 which appeared in the pages of All the Year Bound many 
 years ago. 
 
Peg Woffington. 139 
 
 " She was an actress, so far as lier private life is concerned, 
 quite of the Kestoration pattern ; and yet she was felt to have 
 well merited the terms of the monody written upon her death 
 by Hoole, the translator of Tasso. He recorded the ex- 
 cellence of her professional life, and continued : 
 
 *' Nor was thy worth, to public scenes confined, 
 Thou knew'st the noblest feelings of the mind ; 
 Thy ears were ever open to distress, 
 Thy ready hand was ever stretched to bless, 
 Thy breast humane for each unhappy felt. 
 Thy heart for others' sorrows prone to melt, etc." 
 
 It is to be remembered of her that to the public and to 
 her art she had been faithful ever. She is thus described by 
 Murphy, who knew her well : " Forgive her one female error, 
 and it might fairly be said of her that she was adorned with 
 every virtue ; honour, truth, benevolence, and charity were 
 her distinguishing qualities. Her understanding was superior 
 to that of the generality of her sex. Her conversation was 
 in a style of elegance, always pleasing and often instructive. 
 She abounded in wit, but not of that wild sort which breaks 
 out in sudden flashes, often troublesome and impertinent : 
 her judgment restrained her within due bounds. On the 
 stage she displayed her talents in the brightest lustre. 
 Genteel comedy was her province. She possessed a fine 
 figure, great beauty, and every elegant accomplishment." 
 " She had ever her train of admirers," writes Wilkinson ; 
 "she possessed wit, vivacity, etc., but never permitted her 
 love of pleasure and conviviality to occasion the least defect 
 in her duty to the public as a performer. . . . She was ever 
 ready at the call of the audience, and, though in the possession 
 of all the first line of characters, yet she never thought it 
 improper or a degradation of her consequence to constantly 
 play the Queen in Eanilei ; Lady Anne in Richard the 
 Third J and Lady Percy in Henry the Fourth — pai'ts which are 
 mentioned as insults in the country if ofiei^ed to a lady of con- 
 sequence. She also cheerfully acted Hermione or Andromache ; 
 Lady Pliant or Lady Touchwood ; Lady Sadlife or Lady Dainty ; 
 Angelica or Mrs. Ford ; and several others alternately, as best 
 suited the interests of her manager." Victor writes of her : 
 
140 Some Celebi'-ated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 " She never disappointed one audience in three winters, either 
 by real or affected illness ; and yet I have often seen her on the 
 stage when she ought to have been in her bed." While 
 Hitchcock^ the historian of the Irish stage, contributes his 
 testimony in her favour : " To her honour be it ever re- 
 membered, that, whilst in the zenith of her glory, courted and 
 caressed by all ranks and degrees, it made no alteration in her 
 behaviour ; she remained the same gay, affable, obliging, good- 
 natured Wofiington to everyone around her. . . . Not the lowest 
 performer in the theatre did she refuse to play for; out of 
 twenty-six benefits she acted in twenty-four. . . . Such traits 
 of character must endear the memory of Mrs. Woffington to 
 every lover of the drama.'^ 
 
DOROTHEA MONROE. 
 
 Twenty years had come and gone since Miss Ambrose and 
 the beautiful Gunnings played their part on the stage of 
 Dublin society. They were, however, not forgotten. Their 
 stories were told to the rising generation, and their success 
 held up to admiration and for imitation. 
 
 Over the capital itself these years had produced a complete 
 revolution. The roughness which had marked the manner of 
 life in Lord Chesterfield's day had now disappeared, and in 
 its place an elegance and almost sumptuous magnificence in 
 the mode of living prevailed. The mean houses occupied by 
 the nobility were exchanged for fine mansions designed by 
 eminent artists. The Earl of Kildare/ soon to be Ireland's 
 only duke, set the example, which was quickly followed by 
 others. Squares, streets, and stately mansions rose on all 
 sides. Lord Charlemont designed- for himself Charlemont 
 
 ^ Thomas, Earl of Kildare, created marquis 1761, and Duke of 
 Leinster 1773. This nobleman, the friend of the refined Charlemont, 
 and the elegant Powerscourt (called the French lord), was in every 
 respect one of the grand noblemen of the time. In 1745 he commenced 
 building Leinster House, removing there from the old home of the 
 FitzGeralds in the " Earl of Kildare's Liberty." His new residence 
 commanded an extensive view over the Bay of Dublin, and from the 
 top windows he could see the ships lying in Dunleary Harbour, seven 
 miles away. Not a house then broke the view. Leinster House was 
 designed by Cassels, a German architect, and was finished by Wyatt, 
 who, amongst other improvements, added the picture gallery which 
 contained many fine paintings. Lord Kildare was the most popular 
 nobleman of his time ; he was apostrophized as " loved Kildare, of all 
 our lords the chief and first." 
 
 - The propensity for building had become so great in Dublin that all 
 professions embarked in it. Gentlemen were often their own architects, 
 contracting with journeymen to finish the job at a low price. This 
 would not have been the case with Lord Charlemont, who was a 
 splendid and generous patron. He brought over artists and carvers 
 from Italy and France to do the decorative work at Charlemont 
 
142 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 House, wliich he filled with paintings, statues, and books. Lord 
 Powerscourt had an Italian palace in William Street ; ' Lord 
 Meath^ had a beautifully decorated house in Stephen's Green, 
 where also Lord Mountcashel, Lord Montalt, the millionaire, 
 Buck Whaley,^ and a score of other notables had stately 
 mansions. One has only to look at these old- fashioned houses, 
 many of them decayed and fast tumbling into ruins, to see 
 the scale upon which they were built ; the huge porticoes with 
 fifteen or twenty steps leading up to them, the spacious halls 
 (with capacity for holding half-a-dozen or more Sedan chairs), 
 the broad stone staircases, the exquisite chimney-pieces, the 
 elaborate ceilings, the friezes, the medallions, the panels 
 wrought by the Italian artists, who were brought over at 
 immense expense, all is in the best taste, and tells the sad 
 story of the extravagance of these Irish noblemen and gentle- 
 men of the last century. 
 
 To the reader of old memoirs what brilliant flashes come 
 back of the days when the little Irish capital was more like 
 a foreign city than a portion of sober Great Britain. There 
 was plenty of money to be had, and living was cheap. The 
 peasantry, it is true, were a miserable, ignorant horde of 
 serfs, while the gentry and nobility were in their turn mere 
 serfs of pleasure, dancing, fiddling, gambling, drinking, as 
 gallant gentlemen in those days were bound to do. And the 
 women ! what lovely faces ! what sparkling eyes and pouting 
 lips! The Gunnings had many successors since their 
 day, and now, in 1771, we see before us a dream of fair 
 women. Pretty Letty Gore, the daughter of a Judge of the 
 Exchequer and niece to Lord Arran, sweet Molly Henn of 
 Paradise,'' fair Kitty Tyrell, named by common consent the 
 
 House, which was crowded with ohjets d'art, paintings by Hogarth, 
 busts by Wollekens, a fine library of the choicest books. All these, 
 alas ! are now dispersed. The house itselr is a governmeut office. 
 
 1 Powerscourt House, now the counting-house of Messrs. Ferrier 
 and Pollock, is a grand stately mansion, with a Venetian window 
 of beautiful design. 
 
 - Now the Church Tenoporalities Office. 
 
 ^ Now the Catholic University. 
 
 •* Miss Mary Henn, daughter to Richard Henn, Esq., of Paradise, Co. 
 Cavan. She was a standard beauty and toast, and some pretty verses 
 
Dorothea Monroe. 
 
 143 
 
 Maid of Garnavilla, lovely Miss Hoey, the three beautiful 
 sisters Montgomery, Lord Carhampton's daughter and others. 
 The loveliest of all is the subject of our sketch. Her sweet 
 face looks at us from the title-page, as painted by Angelica 
 Kauffraann.^ This is Dorothy Monroe, whose pitiful little 
 story we are going to follow. Nothing very tragic or new — 
 here are no triumphs to record, nor brilliant double duchessing ; 
 it is an oft-told tale this, of disappointment and failure. 
 
 DOLLY MONKOE. 
 
 It is said these things are predestined ; no one can tell. At 
 
 were written in her praise. She was extremely beautiful, winning and. 
 lovable. She married, early, Donagh O'Brien, second son of Sir Edward 
 O'Brien of Dromiland, Co. Cavan, and ancestor of the present Lord 
 Inchiquin. The Henns are a highly respected family, and have held 
 high legal appointments. 
 
 * Angelica Kauffmann, the female R.A., visited Dublin in 1771, 
 where she painted numerous portraits and decorated several houses. 
 Much of her work still remains, notably a good specimen can be seen 
 at Lord Meath's in Stephen's Green. Much of her decorative work has, 
 however, faded, and some is ascribed to her which was .executed in all 
 probability by either Richardson or Waldire. 
 
144 Sonic Celebrated Irish Bemtties of Last Ce^ttury. 
 
 all events, no one^s future can be forecast. Mr. Rogers was 
 wont to say that '' marrying was all luck ; plain or pretty, 
 clever or stupid, it was all the same ; if it was to be, it would 
 be." This is the only consolation that can be found for those 
 who, like Dolly, fail to secure the plums that grow on the 
 tree of good fortune. 
 
 We must, however, as in the case of Eleanor Ambrose, 
 pause here to take a look back into the political situation of 
 the country, this situation having, strange to say, a decided 
 influence upon the future of the heroine of our story. The 
 fair promise of her young life was, if not altogether blighted, 
 most certainly shadowed by its evil effects. 
 
 To understand how this happened, we must turn to history. 
 The twenty-one years that had passed since Lord Chesterfield's 
 viceroyalty had brought no peace to Ireland, which was more 
 harassed, perplexed, and distracted than ever. Viceroy 
 succeeded viceroy, none remaining long enough to work any 
 permanent good. Harrington, Dorset, Halifax, Northumber- 
 land, Bedford, Hardwicke, and Hertford had all tried the 
 problem and failed. This failure was practically certain so 
 long as the system of governing by means of the under tal'ers 
 continued in force, a system which meant, in plain English, 
 that government in Ireland was altogether in the hands of a 
 few great personages : these men were possessed of large 
 estates and considerable Parliamentary influence, and " under- 
 took " to carry the king's business, whatever it might be, 
 through Parliament, on condition of obtaining a large share 
 in the disposal of patronage. The power of the "under- 
 takers " was much increased by the fact that the Lord 
 Lieutenant spent only six months in two years in the 
 country he was supposed to rule over. This same system, as 
 already pointed out,' was applied to the principal oflBcials, 
 who, being Englishmen, resided in their own country, de- 
 volving their duties to paid underlings, which gave rise to 
 the saying that Ireland was always in deputation. George 
 III. had it much at heart to put an end to this abuse. 
 The difficulties, however, were almost insurmountable. No 
 ' See Introduction. 
 
Dorothea Monroe. 
 
 145 
 
 English nobleman could be induced to remain permanently 
 in what was considered an exile. The Earl of Bristol, who 
 had accepted the post on the resignation of Lord Hertford, 
 declined (although he was half-way to Ireland) when he 
 heard what was expected of him. This was in 1767. The 
 situation was most critical. Parliament was insubordinate. 
 The country was seething with agitation ; outrage and dis- 
 order were rampant and unchecked. White boys, steel boys, 
 peep-o'-day boys, paraded the lonely villages and undefended 
 towns, burning houses, maiming cattle, and murdering in- 
 offensive persons. Trade was at a standstill, public works 
 suspended. Parliament, occupied with its internal jealousies 
 and dissensions, cared little for the general distress. The 
 reckless extravagance of the upper class, the pervading 
 dissipation and high play in which they indulged, the almost 
 universal bankruptcy, made political corruption an easy task. 
 It was said, and with truth, that an honest politician was 
 hardly to be met with, and as the like immorality pervaded 
 the Bench as well as the representative assembly, a fair trial 
 for any criminal was doubtful.^ 
 
 In such a situation of aifairs much would depend upon the 
 choice of a Viceroy. The last act of the administration of the 
 brilliant, erratic Charles Townshend- was to appoint his elder 
 brother. Lord Townshend, to the office. A more unfortunate 
 election could hardly have been made. At the beginning he 
 appeared in all sincerity to have the welfare of the country at 
 heart, and there seemed every chance of his securing popu- 
 
 ' See Chesterfield correspondence. 
 
 - The brilliance and the eccentricity were alike inherited from his 
 mother, the beautiful crazy heiress, Audrey Ball Harrison. This extra- 
 ordinary woman was notorious for the lawlessness she allowed her tongue 
 and the want of decorum she displayed in her life and manners. After 
 some ten years of marriage, she separated from her too-enduring hus- 
 band, and ranged society, a sort of chartered freebooter. Her tongue 
 made her the terror of her enemies, the delight of her friends. Horace 
 Walpole, who was amongst the latter, gives us one of his word photo- 
 graphs of the lady, who was fond of visiting Strawberry Hill. We 
 feel as if we knew her perfectly. We can see her rushing up the narrow 
 staircase, brushing against the china monsters " all but sweeping them 
 away," and crying out, " Lord God, what a house ! It is just such a 
 house as the parson's, where the children sleep at the foot of the bed.'' 
 
146 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 larlty, his personal gifts being of the kind likely to win the 
 Irish people. His abilities, likewise, were undoubtedly superior 
 to many of his predecessors' and successors'. He was unfortu- 
 nately utterly destitute of tact and judgment, and as time went 
 on Cespecially after his wife's death) he committed a fault 
 which is peculiarly fatal to rulers of Ireland, He sought for 
 popularity by sacrificing the dignity and decorum of his 
 position, and thus he brought both himself and his office into 
 contempt, Mr, Lecky has sketched his character in the 
 following words : — 
 
 " His antecedents were wholly military. He had served at 
 Dettingen, Fontenoy, Culloden, and at the siege of Quebec he 
 had become Commander-in-Chief upon the death of Wolfe ; 
 but his conduct on this occasion had not raised his fame. He 
 was by no means an unamiable man, he was brave, honest and 
 frank ; popular in his manners, witty, convivial, and with a 
 great turn for caricature, violent and capricious in his temper, 
 and exceedingly destitute of tact^ dignitif, and decorum. He 
 drank hard, and he was accused of low vices and a great love 
 of low companions. His military knowledge was of much use 
 in some parts of the Irish Government, but he was totally in- 
 experienced in civil administration. He made many mistakes 
 from want of this knowledge, and acted with a total want of 
 necessary diplomacy." 
 
 The first act of his unlucky administration was conclusive of 
 his want of prudence. Hardly was the initial Session of Parlia- 
 ment inaugurated, when he brought forward two unpopular 
 measures. Horace Walpole, writing to his constant corre- 
 spondent, Sir Horace Mann, says, "The Irish began their 
 Session with a complaisance not expected of them considering 
 how wrong-headed they are. After voting the augmentation 
 of 3000 men, they have thrown out a Money Bill, and it is a 
 question whether their Parliament should not be prorogued 
 with a high hand." 
 
 Prorogued accordingly it was — with a very high hand, the 
 new Viceroy using the powers he possessed not to call together 
 another assembly for fourteen months, Townshend made use 
 of this interval to break down the power of the '' Under- 
 
Dorothea Monroe. 147 
 
 takers." ' He had come as their secret enemy, and with his 
 characteristic vehemence threw himself into the task." He 
 complained in his despatches that they had usurped the real 
 authority and had reduced the Lord Lieutenant to be nothing 
 more than a figure-head. His plan was to create, if possible, 
 a Majority, this majority to he his by right of purchase, being 
 therefore subordinate to his will, and to secure this end he 
 spared neither money nor personal influence. His first step 
 was to look about for men whose patriotism was most likely 
 to yield to some one of the golden keys he had in his pocket. 
 Foremost amongst those whom he desired to gain to his side 
 was Henry, Viscount Loftus. This nobleman had this very 
 year succeeded Nicholas, Earl of Ely, his nephew, who had 
 likewise bequeathed to him, in addition to the family estates, 
 the large fortune which had come to him through his mother, 
 daughter and heiress to Sir Gustavus Hume.^ The new Peer's 
 inclinations, therefore, as well as his training, placed him on 
 the opposition benches, in addition to which he had received 
 his political education from his uncle, John Ponsonby, Speaker 
 to the House of Commons, a man of singular uprightness, who 
 earned for himself in this most corrupt age the reputation of 
 being an honest friend to his country. From him Lord Lof- 
 tus, in his early and poorer days had met help and kindness. 
 He was bound by gratitude to support him, and to continue 
 with the party to which he by right belonged, i.e. to the 
 Patriot Lords ^ — so named because having everything they 
 
 ^ When Townsliend's term of office had expired it was found he had 
 spent a million of money on this work, besides scattering honours aud 
 titles broadcast. 
 
 " Lord Chesterfield disliked the Undertakers quite as much as did 
 Townshend ; he managed, however, to play his cards better. 
 
 ^ Nicholas, Earl of Ely, married 1736, Mary, daughter and heir to 
 Sir Gustavus Hume, of Castle Hume, County Fermanagh. The only 
 son of this marriage died in 1771, without issue, and was succeeded by 
 Henry Loftus as Viscount Loftus, the Earldom being extinct. It was 
 said that the last Earl, who was of weak intellect, was induced by Lord 
 Loftus to leave the Hume estates away from those who should by right 
 have inherited them, and that the disappointed heirs constantly threat- 
 ened lawsuits. 
 
 * These were : Leinster Mount Cashell Bellamonnt 
 
 Westmeath Charlemont Mornington 
 
 Shannon Lisle Wandesforde 
 
 Lanesborough Longford Mountmorris 
 
 L 2 
 
148 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Centiiry. 
 
 could desire, tliey were naturally supposed to be incorruptible, 
 and able by their fii'mness and rectitude to act as safeguards 
 against the universal corruption and bribery. Unfortunately 
 Lord Loftus was of a strangely weak and vacillating character; 
 it was well known that he was altogether governed by his wife, 
 a lady of singular spirit and determined will, haughty and 
 aspiring to even higher rank than what she had unexpectedly 
 attained. Her vaulting ambition would be likely to overstep 
 any obstacle in the way of her wishes. 
 
 Townshend quickly grasped that here, ready to his hand, 
 was the very instrument he wanted. To gain over Lord 
 Loftus to his side, and to detach him from his friends, was 
 a triumph all the sweeter, as thereby he could break up the 
 caucus of Undertakers who made part of the Loftus following. 
 Nothing was therefore left undone to secure the head of the 
 clan. Townshend, being a kinsman in a distant degree, made 
 this slender tie an excuse for affecting a cousinly intimacy with 
 the family, and soon convinced himself that the popular 
 rumour which gave to Lady Loftus certain masculine appen- 
 dages was, as popular rumour generally is, correct. If any- 
 thing was to be done with the husband, it would be by securing 
 his wife's co-operation, nor was he long in finding out the 
 lady's master passion, and with this knowledge victory was 
 sure to be his. Not content with the good fortune that had 
 come to her, Lady Loftus sighed for higher distinction — the 
 two former Lords had held the rank of Eai'l, why should not 
 the present enjoy the same honour? "Or even go a step 
 farther,^' whispered Townshend's emissaries, '^a Marchioness 
 is a higher sounding name — oblige his Excellency and you 
 shall see he can be grateful." It must be placed to Lady 
 Loftus's credit that the possible gratification of her own per- 
 sonal ambition was not a sufficient bribe to induce her to use 
 her influence with her husband to desert his old friends and 
 join a new policy. Had not Lord Townshend at this very 
 time become a widower, it is probable Lord Loftus's deser- 
 
 Louth Knapton Molesworth 
 
 Moira Powers court 
 
 Of these Lord Shannon broke away like Lord Loftus, and for a 
 promise of place and power joined Lord Townshend's party. 
 
Dorothea Alonroe. 149 
 
 tion would never have taken place, neitlier would poor Dolly's 
 story have been written.^ It does seem somewhat hard that 
 a young girl's heart should have been made the shuttle-cock 
 in this game between the wily politician and the ambitious 
 lady, but so it was -, history repeats itself, and Dolly was not 
 the first nor the last victim to a worldly woman's plots. 
 
 Lady Loftus was Dolly's aunt. It had been thought a 
 good match for Frances Monroe when, seventeen years pre- 
 viously, she made the conquest of Henry Loftus, for although at 
 that time he did not stand to succeed to the family honours, 
 still he was a man of family, connected with men in high 
 position. It was a decided rise in the social scale for the 
 Monroes, who, it is said, were not fur sang. Monroe is not a 
 Celtic name, therefore we may assume the family was a graft 
 of James the First's setting. They dwelt in Down, at a place 
 called Roe's Hall, where we find Dolly was living, one of a 
 large family of children, when Lord and Lady Loftus succeeded 
 to their new dignity and fortune. They were childless, and 
 Dolly's beauty had made her a special favourite of both 
 her aunt and uncle, who had treated her always as a daughter. 
 What was more natural than that they should now wish her to 
 share the advantages of their elevated position, and invite 
 her to spend the season in town, and enjoy all the gaieties ? 
 We may imagine how this ofi'er was received at Roe's Hall ; 
 how it was thought an unprecedented stroke of good luck, a 
 step on the ladder of good fortune. We may be sure Dolly 
 was sent off in all haste with a wallet full of good wishes and 
 prophecies of greatness in store. These prophecies seemed 
 from the first likely to come true. Dolly's beauty at once 
 secured for her the first place amongst the Dublin belles, 
 who had to acknowledge their rival's supremacy. She was 
 barely seventeen, a sweet, simple, enchanting creature, 
 who seems not so much to have commanded admiration as to 
 have stolen into men's hearts and made them utterly captive. 
 The old and the young, grave Provost Andrews of Trinity 
 
 ^ Charlotte, Lady Townsliend, was tlie only surviving child of James, 
 Earl of Northampton. She brought into the Townshend family upwards 
 of 250 quarterings, besides the barony of Ferrars and that of Compton. 
 
150 Some Celebrated Irish Beatifies of Last Century. 
 
 College, handsome Hercules Langrishe, Henry Grattan, then a 
 stripling, and a score of gallants were at her feet. She was so 
 besieged that she could not walk in the Mall, but had to rise 
 at six o'clock, and, under safe guardianship, make the round of 
 Stephen's Grreen. The pamphlets and papers of Dublin (a 
 veritable scourge they were) vied with one another in apostro- 
 phizing her beauty or addressing her admirers. A nobleman 
 who wished to have her portrait is told, — 
 
 " Fond swain, I heai" your wish is such 
 Some painter should on canvas touch 
 
 The beauties of Monroe ; 
 But where's the adventurer will dare 
 The happy mixture to prepare 
 
 Her peerless charms to show?."' 
 
 The poet then goes on to describe how such a picture should 
 
 be drawn. 
 
 " First let the cheek with blushes glow 
 Just as when damask roses blow, 
 
 Glistening with morning dew. 
 Contrasted with the virgin white* 
 With which the lily glads the sight 
 Blend them in lovely hue. 
 
 " And truly then that cheek to grace, 
 Upon her flowing tresses place 
 
 The chestnut's auburn down. 
 Her lips you may in sort depaint 
 By cherries ripe, yet ah ! 'twere faint 
 
 Should them with hers be shown," etc. 
 
 The acknowledged belles of Dublin, Miss Letty Gore, the 
 Misses Montgomery s, and others, must have passed a bad 
 quarter of an hour reading these praises of their rival. Doro- 
 thea's beauty was also the theme of her lover's pen in " Bara- 
 tariana.^' ^ In the history of the Island of Barataria we have 
 
 ' Epistle to George Howard, Esq., by George Faulkner. 
 * A couple of years later Goldsmith introduced her name into " The 
 Haunch of Venison.' ' 
 
 " Of the neck and the breast I had still to dispose, 
 'Twas a neck and a breast that might rival M-r-s." 
 
 Mr. Forster in his biography says, " M-r— s " was Lord Townshend's 
 Dorothy Monroe. 
 
 ^ Baratariana : a collection of curious letters published in Dublin 
 during the administration of LordTownshend, and written in imitation 
 of the famous Junius Lettere. They are now valuable as presenting a 
 
Dorothea Monroe. 151 
 
 Dollj's love story given under false names. We also learn that 
 her stature was majestic, but air and demeanour nature itself. 
 The peculiar splendour of her carriage was softened and sub- 
 dued by the most affable condescension, and that the softest 
 roses that ever youth and modesty poured out on beauty 
 glowed on the lips of Dorothea, her cheeks were the bloom of 
 Hebe, and the purity of Diana was in her heart. 
 
 Many years after Grattan declared that this " beautiful 
 description of a young girl " ^ was written by Langrishe, and 
 was worthy of the original. Meantime she had many suitable 
 offers of marriage, to none of which her guardians would listen- 
 Lady Loftus had high views for her niece. S]ie had married 
 well, why should not Dolly, with her beauty and opportunities, 
 attain as high fortune as the Grunuiugs, whose rise was fresh 
 in her ladyship^s recollection ? At all events there was no 
 need for hurry. Provost Andrews could be kept dangling by 
 
 vivid picture of the country, the political corruption that prevailed, and 
 the animosities between class and creed. The authors of these undoubt- 
 edly spirited letters managed to keep their secret as to their identity, 
 but it was revealed in Grattan's Life by his Son, in which we learn that 
 G rattan's letters were signed Fosthumus and Pericles and that he also 
 wrote the dedication. Flood's signature was Syndicombe. Langrishe's 
 principal contribution was the History of the Island of Barataria. 
 " Barataria," an island mentioned in " L)on Quixote," is meant for Ire- 
 land. Everyone is spoken of under the name of a Spanish Don, but by 
 the key we know that Sancho was Lord Townshend, his secretary, Don 
 Georgio Buticarney, Sir George McCartney, D(»n John, the Right 
 Honourable Hely Hutchinson, Don Philip, Tisdall the Chancellor, 
 etc. The Commons goes by the name of " the Cortes." In this 
 bitter satire Langrishe took ample revenge on the wicked uncle and 
 aunt of Dorothea as also on his rivals Townshend and Provost Andrews. 
 Grattan s^aid before his death that the characters were just and admir- 
 ably drawn, as that of Tisdall, who looked dismal but felt not the least 
 concern. " Baratariana " has always possessed peculiar interest for 
 students of Irish History in the last century. 
 
 ' Dolly's portrait by Angelica Kaufi'manu, which is in the National 
 Gallery, Dublin, does not convey the idea of so beautiful a creature. 
 The face has a prim expression, and the features are formal ; the 
 larger canvas, a family group, also by Angelica, represents Lord and Lady 
 Ely full length, Dolly seated at the harpsichord and Angelica Kauffmann 
 standing ; this gives a better impression of the beauty so much 
 eulogized by her contemporaries, and presents a very charming young 
 girl with radiant eyes, auburn hair, and sweet, innocent expression. Mr. 
 Armstrong, the present director of the National Gallery, thinks this 
 portrait is so much after the manner of Cotes that it would be more 
 likely to be his work. This, however, cannot be the case, as Cotes died 
 before 1771, when this picture was painted. 
 
152 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 judicious management ; Langrishe's love, whicli was content 
 with any treatment from the adored one, could be allowed to 
 drift on. It was a good enough match if no better turned up, 
 and therefore the intimacy between the lovers was allowed 
 under certain restrictions. All this time Lord Townshend had 
 not come on the scene. He was still supposed to be in grief 
 for the loss of his wife, an amiable, interesting, and rather 
 brilliant woman ; although not possessed of beauty, she 
 managed to retain the affections of her erratic husband, who 
 truly lamented her, as he had reason to do, as with her he 
 lost his only hold on the Irish people, who had been quick to 
 recognize Lady Townshend's worth and the desire she had to 
 benefit them by every means in her power. The Viceroy 
 evinced his grief in an hysterical fashion, at one moment 
 weeping bitterly, the next indulging in the wildest excesses 
 with his boon companions. After a time he was sufficiently 
 recovered to solace his affliction by the charms of society, the 
 first house he visited being his kinsman's, Rathfarnham 
 Castle. There he saw Dorothea in all her charms of auburn 
 hair and radiant eyes. His evident admiration raised in Lady 
 Loftus's mind a picture of future greatness, in which her 
 favourite niece would play the principal, herself the secondary 
 role. No sooner did this ambition seize upon her than it 
 vaulted by leaps and bounds, until nothing could satisfy 
 her but the accomplishment of her desire. Townshend 
 watched with amusement the schemiog chaperone play her 
 cards. He saw in this happy chance a means of obtaining 
 the end he had in view, and which he was almost hopeless of 
 attaining. With this view he enacted the part of an ardent 
 lover to perfection ; three times a week his coach with six 
 running footmen was seen tearing along the road to 
 
 Rathfarnham Castle. Presently his visits became daihj^ for 
 he was superintending the painting of Dolly's portrait by 
 Angelica Kauffmann. " Sure there never was such devotion,'^ 
 
 my lady would say, as she watched with exultation the woo- 
 ing of the noble suitor, translating according to her own 
 wishes the different signs of his love. '* His incoherent 
 sentences and distracted manner were accepted by the 
 
Dorothea Mom 
 
 15, 
 
 countess as confirmation of his intentions, a natural perplexity 
 and embarrassment of elocution were the confusion of passion, 
 and ambiguous inference, as it was unintelligible, was 
 «'ipposed to convey a solemn declaration.-" ' The astute 
 Viceroy, who saw, as if in a mirror, all that was passing in the 
 lady's mind, and was highly diverted by it, was careful not to 
 
 LORD TOWNSHEND. 
 
 commit himself to anything definite. General admiration 
 cannot be used in evidence, and of such he was most liberal. 
 The situation, to one of his nature, was thoroughly humorous, 
 the more so that he managed to obtain from the sanguine 
 match-maker all that he required. How could she refuse any- 
 thing to one who was about to confer such distinctions as she 
 supposed upon her family ? She saw Dolly figuring as the 
 ' Baratariana. 
 
154 ^0'}^^^ Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 vice-queen^ herself second in command and adorned with the 
 tiara of a countess, while the earl, her husband, had the 
 dignity of Deputy Viceroy. Such a picture was surely worth 
 a few votes, and as for the spoiling of two young lives, that 
 did not count. It must be owned that in this important 
 crisis of her life Dolly acted in a manner that deprives us of 
 all pity for her subsequent mortification. She gave up with 
 very little struggle the man she loved, for one old enough to 
 be her father, and whose advantages of fortune and station 
 were his sole claim to her regard. Townshend had no gifts 
 which could attract a young and beautiful girl ; the good looks 
 which had given him charm in his youth had long since 
 vanished. He was a plump man with a merry, round, un- 
 studious looking countenance, with jovial manners. He could 
 be amorous, but never tender. What a contrast to the re- 
 fined, handsome, persuasive and accomplished Langrishe,' 
 whose picture has been drawn for us by Grattan, as a man 
 born for society and endowed with qualities that would have 
 charmed a court without the aid of flattery. His mind was a 
 perpetual spring. His manner playful and irresistible. It 
 must have been a sore trial to the poor girl to dismiss him at 
 her aunt's bidding. It is an old story, however, and one that 
 repeats itself many a time during a London season, with not 
 perhaps quite so romantic a setting as the garden at Rath- 
 farnham with its roses and quaint sun-dial, where tradition 
 has it (rightly or wrongly who should say ? ) the lovers 
 parted. But now comes the sad part of the story, one which 
 illustrates in a strong light the wisdom of the old saying that 
 " A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush." 
 
 Shortly after the dismissal of Langrishe (a fact of which 
 Lady Loftus took care Townshend should be apprised) Lord 
 Loftus took the final step which separated him from his old 
 friends, and when Parliament met was found with his 
 followers on the Ministerial benches. This defection, which 
 was most gratifying to the Viceroy, was equally depressing to 
 
 ^ Langrishe was an accomplished musician and excellent amateur 
 actor. 
 
Dorothea Monroe. 155 
 
 the Opposition ; ' Lord Charlemont, the old friend and 
 political guide of Lord Loftus, made ineffectual efforts to 
 prevent the catastrophe, the vigilance of Lady Loftus, however, 
 presented an insuperable barrier, and her influence over her 
 vacillating husband carried the day. When the triumph was 
 secured she naturally looked for her reward. The first instal- 
 ment was paid at once. Christmas, 1771, saw the announcement 
 of Lord Loftus's new title as Earl of Ely. So far the coronet 
 she had coveted was hers ; as regarded the necessary words 
 which were to make Dolly vice-queen, the Viceroy was silent. 
 Having secured all he wanted, his attentions declined, his coach 
 was no longer to be seen tearing along the roads to Rathfarn- 
 ham. Soon report began to couple his name with that of 
 Miss Montgomery, whose father, a Scotch baronet with Irish 
 estates, was one of his set. Still the newly-made countess 
 would not relinquish hope. With a fatal want of dignity she 
 went on a visit to the castle, dragging with her the reluctant 
 Dolly ; this in the vain expectation of rekindling the wander- 
 ing fancy of the fickle nobleman. She even tried the very stale 
 device of whetting his ardour by circulating in the papei'S a 
 report " that the Right Honourable Francis Andrews, Provost 
 of Trinity College, Dublin, was about to lead to the Hymeneal 
 altar the beautiful Miss Monroe." Townshend, whose keen 
 sense of the ridiculous made him destitute of all self-restraint, 
 and who, like his brilliant mother, gave way to every humour 
 of his lively imagination, amused himself by addressing a 
 satirical ballad to the antiquated Provost," as if approving of 
 the projected union. 
 
 "Blnsh not, dear Amli*ews, nor disdain 
 A passion for that matchless dame, 
 Who kindles in all hearts a flame 
 By Beauty's magic force. 
 
 ' The ballads of the day satirized this defection in scathing terms : — 
 " Those nicknamed Marquis, Lord and Earl, 
 That set the crowd a-gazing. 
 We prize as hogs esteem a pearl ; 
 Their patents set a-blazing. 
 "^ Provost Andrews, it will be remembered, was a lover of Peg Woffing- 
 ton. 
 
156 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 What though o'er Dolly's lovely head 
 Summers twice ten are scarcely shed ? 
 Is it on that account decreed 
 
 She must refuse — ' of course ' ? 
 
 Miltown/ coeval with thy sire, 
 Durst to a blooming maid aspire 
 And feel, or feign, a lover's fire 
 At seventy-five or more. 
 
 Nor thinJc, my fi'iend, because I prize 
 Her auburn hair and radiant eyes, 
 I envy your espousal. 
 
 No rival passion fills my breast, 
 Long since from amorous pains at rest, 
 Nay more — to prove what I've professed 
 I'll carry your i^roposal." 
 
 Bligh,'- who in Churchill's battles bled, 
 A fascinating virgin wed. 
 No jealous dreams disturbed his head 
 Though sinking at four score. 
 
 Intrepid Lucas," lame and old, 
 Bereft of eye-sight, teeth, and gold, 
 To a green girl his passion told 
 
 And woo'd the yielding bride. 
 Then prithee leave that face of care, 
 Let not your looks presage despair. 
 Be jovial, brisk and debonnair. 
 
 My life, you're not denied ! 
 
 The Earl of Miltown. 
 
 General Bligh, ancestor to the Earl of Derby. 
 
 Lucas was the first publisher of the FreemarCs Journal. 
 
Dorothea Monroe. 157 
 
 As an instance of bad taste amouuting to brutal insolence 
 these verses are unsurpassed. It is difficult to believe that 
 any man could have so wantonly insulted a young creature, 
 to whom he had so recently been making" even false professions 
 of attachment. One would rather incline to the supposition 
 (judging from the bitter tone underlying the unnecessary 
 declaration of his own indifference) that in some way, unknown 
 perhaps to her watchful aunt, Dolly had rejected his lordship's 
 advances. One would be glad to think such was the case, 
 that the girl's better nature asserted itself, and that she set 
 herself free from the worldly machinations of her match- 
 making aunt. Her family maintained that this was the 
 fact ; the universal testimony, however, of the world in which 
 she lived, has handed down the tradition that Dolly was 
 left to wear the willow ; and that Langrishe never renewed 
 his proposals, leads to the presumption that such was the 
 case. 
 
 Meantime the unpopular Viceroy was growing more and more 
 hateful to the people. " His temper," says Mr. Lecky, " had 
 grown savage by opposition, and he cast every vestige of 
 decorum to the winds, constantly disappearing from public 
 life to low haunts of dissipation, ridiculing all parties even at 
 his own or their table. He scattered broadcast satirical ballads 
 on friends and foes,j and on one occasion interrupted the 
 sitting of the privy council by introducing two beagles," whom 
 he had christened Progress and Prorogation. These jokes 
 were not taken in good part, while even the most corrupt of 
 those he had subsidized winced under his thinly veiled con- 
 tempt." 
 
 " Townshend has occasioned all the troubles/' writes 
 Walpole to Sir Horace Mann. " He lives with a carpenter, 
 and drinks with two low fellows, and has written a satirical 
 
 * One of these ballads was " The Cotillon," in which Townshend makes 
 a bitter attack on the public men in Ireland. 
 
 • In " Baratariana " a very lively account of the introduction of the 
 dogs is given, and the manner in which the obsequious councillors re- 
 ceived the new members — " Billy Hutchinson was distressed and looked 
 lively — Tisdall looked dismal Ijut felt not the least concern — Malone 
 did not observe the joke — " etc. — See illustration on prccetling page. 
 
158 Some Celeb7'ated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 ballad on the chief men there, a mark of contempt that even 
 money will not wipe out.^' 
 
 In making this last observation the student of Strawberry 
 Hill shows his profound knowledge of human nature. You 
 may rob a man of his purse with greater impunity than level 
 a sarcasm at any of his peculiarities. Irishmen especially are 
 sensitive to ridicule in an extraordinary degree, and there is 
 little doubt that it was his sarcastic turn more than his bad 
 government that drew down upon Townshend such envenomed 
 attacks as those that appeared in the squibs and prints of the 
 day. The animosity against him having at last risen to fever 
 heat, the situation was no longer tenable. In the March of 
 1772, sixteen peers drew up a protest against him. A 
 powerful party in the House of Commons led by Flood 
 supported this motion of the Upper House, and made it their 
 object to procure his recall, which the Home Ministers, think- 
 ing it was time to put an end to his disgraceful government, 
 agreed to, sending Lord Harcourt in his place. No previous 
 administration had done so much to lower political life in 
 Ireland, and Townshend was one of the few Viceroys who 
 earned for themselves personal dislike. " The people of 
 Ireland,'' says Sir John Davies, " did ever love and desire to 
 be governed by great personages.'' Anyone who has lived 
 long enough in the country to study the character of the 
 nation will endorse this opinion, and agree with Mr. Lecky 
 when he adds that the Queen's representative has always been, 
 except in a few cases, " the most popular man in Ireland," for 
 the reason that Irishmen are peculiarly susceptible to personal 
 influence. Up to the last Townshend continued his dissipated 
 habits. When his successor arrived at the Castle he found 
 him drinking and playing cards at three o'clock in the 
 morning. " At all events you have not found me napping," 
 said the witty Townshend, who remained for another fortnight 
 as Lord Harcourt's guest, ostensibly for the purpose of 
 giving satisfaction, now that he was a private gentleman, to 
 those who resented any part of his behaviour and wished to 
 call him out. He received challenges from no less than eight ; 
 the duels, however, did not take place on the Irish side of the 
 
Dorothea Monroe. 159 
 
 Channel ; his enemies declaring that Townshend sheltered 
 himself behind the Vice-regal protection. This was a calumny, 
 as no one could deny his claim to courage. The day of his 
 departure was the occasion of a hostile display. It had been 
 supposed that he would go away quietly under cover of 
 night, but he somewhat foolishly hired a mob who surrounded 
 his carriage, cheering him as he went in procession through 
 the streets to Bullock Harbour. 
 
 •' To Bullock tlie mock monarch Hees, 
 lu every bush a dagger sees ; 
 But, safe beneath thy auspices ' 
 Escapes the indignant rabble." 
 
 While the vessel lay in the harbour, he had the pleasure of 
 seeing his effigy burned on the shore, and the next day the 
 Freeman's Jourmd and other papers were full of all manner of 
 squibs and indecent attacks upon his character. Even after 
 he had reached the other side his troubles were not over. At 
 Holyhead he found one of his challengers, Captain Mont- 
 gomery, waiting for him. This quari'el was however adjusted. 
 Lord Bellamont, a young Irish Peer whom Townshend had 
 refused to see in Dublin, followed him to London, where Lord 
 Charlemont carried the challenge and insisted on Lord 
 Bellamont's right to satisfaction, or in lieu thereof a formal 
 denial from the late Viceroy of having wished to offend the 
 challenger. This Lord Townshend refusing, the two noble- 
 men met at Chalk Farm, where the duel took place. Lord 
 Townshend wounded his adversary rather severely, and here 
 the matter ended. 
 
 We now return to Dorothea, who was enduring what, 
 to a proud nature, is intolerably painful, the mortification of 
 being not alone deserted, but that another should have 
 succeeded where she failed. Lord Townshend's marriage to 
 Miss Montgomery was announced shortly after the Viceroy's 
 departure, and as if this were not enough, she had the additional 
 sting of seeing the man whose true heart she had cast aside 
 for the ignis faiuus of rank and ambition, suddenly rise to 
 
 ^ This alludes to the shelter given to him by the new Viceroy 
 Harcourt. 
 
i6o Some Celebrated Irish Bemtties of Last Century. 
 
 distinction. The talents which Langrishe possessed received 
 due recognition. He was liberal in his sentiments and politics. 
 He became a leading member of the House of Commons, 
 and was an excellent speaker, his style being full of 
 pleasantries and lightness, and his wit was sharp and pungent. 
 He was a lover to be proud of, but it does not appear that he 
 renewed his suit, perhaps it was as well that he did not. 
 Anyhow, in a few years he married one Miss Myhill, niece, 
 strangely enough, to another Lady Ely, and was made a 
 baronet in 1777. 
 
 In 1773 the aunt ' who had done so much to blight Dolly's 
 young life died — it was said her illness was induced by the 
 pain and mortification she had suffered at the failure of all 
 her plans for the advancement of her husband and niece. It 
 was reported that the disconsolate widower, six months after 
 his lady's decease, offered Dorothea his hand and title, but 
 she would not listen to such an outrage to her aunt's memory. 
 Two years later, in 1775, she married Mr. Richardson of Rich 
 Hill, member for the County of Armagh. Let us hope she 
 was happy. We know little more of her except glimpses here 
 and there. She is said to have taken a keen interest in 
 politics, and to have made a figure in political circles. She 
 lived to see the Union passed, and outlived both her husband 
 and the lover of her youth. Sir Hercules Langrishe died in 
 1810 at the age of seventy-eight, and in his old age he loved 
 to recall the past and to dwell upon the charms of Miss Monroe. 
 Grattan, in his beautiful elegy upon his dead friend, alludes to 
 their love. The lines which, for their rhythm and tenderness 
 have been compai'ed to Mason's Monody on Lady Coventry, 
 had best be given in their entirety : — 
 
 ' Lord Ely had only just completed the fiae mansion he had built in Ely 
 Place, and for which reason he chansfed the original name of the street, 
 Hume's Eow, to Ely Place, by which it has been known from the 
 beginning of this century. Ely House, which was sold soon after his 
 lordship's death, was then divided into two houses. It is remarkable for a 
 wrought iron staircase of great elegance, for its imnelled hall, and for 
 the chimney pieces, which are of great beauty, and are considered 
 heirlooms ; and to insure their not being tampered with, they were con- 
 stantly examined by skilled workmen, in the interest of the family. 
 They have by this time probably been sold. 
 
Dorothea Monroe. i6i 
 
 " Oh, friend ! and while with death-like stej^ thy hearse 
 Goes to the grave, may I, in weeping verse, 
 By love, by dnty, and by sorrow led, 
 Attend the bier, and there review the dead. 
 Dei)arted friend, oh ! thou wert born to please, 
 And live with mirth, serenity and ease. 
 Thine was the ready turn, the pleasant hit. 
 Thou soul of sunshine, and thou god of wit.' 
 For ever gentle and for ever gay 
 Thy life a philosophic comedy. 
 Alas ! thy humour and thy wit are gone. 
 And the gay colours of thy life are flown. 
 Sunk in the grave what varied powers we see ! 
 How many pleasant thoughts have dieJ with thee. 
 He loved his country, and he loved her laws, 
 He drew his pen in Freedom's sacred cause. 
 He sung the country's graces, as her wrongs ; 
 Love reached his heart, and Love improved his songs. 
 See Barataria comes his death to mourn. 
 And Dorothea weeping o'er his urn." 
 
 Poor Dorothea, wlio was at this time much stricken in 
 years, soon followed Sir Hercules to the grave. She died in 
 the following year, 1811. Her husband had been dead some 
 years previously, she had no children, her links with the past 
 were shattered and gone, and the generation growing up 
 around her cared nothing for her or her story. So it is, or 
 will be, with each one of us. Time is a grand destroyer, 
 and in his hands our day dreams lie crushed into ruins. 
 
 ' Several instances of Langrishe's wit are told in Grattan's Life and 
 times. On one occasion he was riding with one of the numerous Viceroys 
 whose name has not transpired; his Excellency complained that his 
 predecessors had left the Park in such a condition as to be almost a 
 swamp. "They were too much 'occupied draining \,\^q rest of the king- 
 dom," replied Langrishe. Another time he was asked where was to be 
 found the best history of Ireland, he answered, promptly, "In the 
 continuation of Eapin." For all this apparent patriotism the secret 
 service of Pitt reveals the unpleasant fact that this patriot received 
 £16,000 from the hated Saxon, for surrendering his right to vote against 
 the Union. 
 
THE THREE MISS MONTGOMERYS. 
 
 I. — Anne, Marchioness of Townshend. 
 
 The story of Dorothea would be incomplete, unless it were 
 followed by that of her successful rival, Anne Montgomery, 
 and therefore, although she was the second, some say the 
 youngest of the sisters, first place is due to her. It was 
 indeed no small tribute to her charms that she should have 
 succeeded where Dolly had failed. Her success was, however, 
 not achieved without recourse to an expedient which, although 
 it is not without precedent, can never be acceptable to a 
 woman's vanity. 
 
 The iintionaUty of this fair trio of sisters is somewhat 
 questionable ; that Scotland may claim them as well as Ireland 
 is undoubted, still a good case can be made out for Ireland, 
 for although Sir William Montgomery came from Peeble- 
 shire, where his place, Magbie Hill, was situated, he had 
 married Miss Tomkyns, an Irish lady of large property near 
 Londonderry : she died when the children were young, and 
 Sir William marrying again, and having a second family, 
 the daughters of the first wife were brought up principally 
 by their mother's relatives, and seem to have adopted her 
 country as their own, while their beauty and charm was a 
 matter of national pride, and the poets, who expressed their 
 admiration in lines of much elegance, invariably claim them as 
 " Hibernian belles." Elizabeth was the eldest, Barbara the 
 youngest, Anne ^ came in the middle. She was in her girl- 
 
 ' Anne was the most beautiful of the sisters ; she was tall, fair, and of 
 a most enchanting countenance. Elizabeth was shorter, but exceedingly 
 animated ; this is alluded to in an ode addressed to Miss Montgomery by 
 one of her admirers, — 
 
 Sylvia has spirit, sparkling eyes, and wit ; 
 
 Nor let her want of stature raise a strife, 
 
 In less of matter there is more of Life. 
 
The Three Miss Montgonterys. 163 
 
 hood when we first hear of her as attracting Lord Townsheud's 
 notice, shortly after his arrival in Ireland as Viceroy. 
 
 There is some uncertainty as to where this first meeting 
 took place, whether at Carton, where Anne had a trifling part 
 in the Beggar's Opera, played by amateurs, or at Rathfarnham 
 Castle, when the Masque of Cow us was given by children. 
 This was soon after Lord Townsheud's arrival. There was, as 
 already stated, a connection between the Townshends and 
 the Earl of Ely. Nicholas, the predecessor of Henry, Viscount 
 Loftus, was then the head of the family, and no doubt the 
 Viceroy had laid his plan to detach him and his followers from 
 the patriot lords, for Nicholas was weak of intellect, and a 
 ready prey to any stronger mind. So the entertainment was 
 graciously accepted, and Townshend and his Countess came in 
 great state to do all honour to their dear kinsman. 
 
 The masque was given with the most picturesque setting, 
 the woods of Rathfarnham Castle lending it a peculiar charm. 
 It was played by children, the eldest not more than thirteen, 
 so Elizabeth and Anne must have been there as spectators, 
 though their younger sister Barbara Avas one of the performers. 
 The beauty of Anne attracted the attention of the Viceroy, who 
 was of a singularly susceptible nature. He paid ber the most 
 extravagant compliments. The Countess, who, poor lady, was 
 well accustomed to her lord's erratic fancies, treated the young 
 girl with much kindness, and the sisters soon became the 
 acknowledged belles of Dublin, where they were well known 
 from childhood, and favourites with high and low. 
 
 The habit of versifying which distinguished the last century 
 prevailed to an alarming extent in Ireland. Every man who 
 could put two lines of doggrel together considered himself 
 a poet, and wrote efiusively : prologues, epilogues, fulsome 
 addresses to public persons, sonnets in praise of the standard 
 beauties, or satirical attacks upon political enemies. This 
 rhyming mania was much cultivated by the beaux esprits. Mrs. 
 Pilkington made Dean Swift's acquaintance by sending him 
 " verses," while there was constant rhyming going on between 
 the " Saturnine" Dean and his friend Dr. Delany; one almost 
 wonders how, with their graver pursuits, they found time for 
 M 2 
 
164 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Centitry. 
 
 this perpetual fire of birthday and other odes. The same fashion 
 was cultivated by lovers, every compliment being expressed 
 in the less convincing form of rhyme. Howard ' who was an 
 inveterate scribbler, wrote tragedies and verses by the yard, 
 which were handed about, shown to particular friends at the 
 club, or given to some fair lady to amuse her dressing-room 
 coterie. Some of these were satirical in their nature, generally 
 biting attacks on the Government, or an obnoxious person, 
 sometimes extravagant praises of a fashionable beauty. It 
 was in this way the three sisters received the appellation of 
 " The Graces/' by which they were known all over the country. 
 The verses were addressed, 
 
 " To the three favourite sinters on the occasion of their return 
 after an absence,'^ and set forth in some pretty lines Love's 
 Mistake and the Jealousy of Venus. 
 
 Of late Love's Queen, all in despair 
 Fled through each region of the air, 
 
 Her Graces were astray. 
 To seek them, Maia's winged son 
 From Pole to Pole with sj^eed had run. 
 
 It was a bustling day. 
 
 Cupid, who had to earth been sent, 
 Returned with haste and toil near spent, 
 
 And vowed he saw them there. 
 That 'twas on famed lerne's shore 
 Thau whicli with beauties none shines more 
 
 On the terrestrial sphere. 
 
 Straightway a troop of little Loves 
 
 Who teud their Queen where'er she moves 
 
 And bask in her sweet eyes, 
 Flew for the nymphs, whom when they brought 
 Alack ! 'twas found the urchins caught 
 
 The three Montgomeries. 
 
 Soon as tbeir charms shone full in view 
 The Paphian Goddess jealous grew, 
 
 She feared her future reign. 
 Her boy she chid for his mistake. 
 Nor could forgive 'till he took back 
 
 The three to Earth again. 
 
 ' George Edmund Howard was, on his father's side, connected with 
 the ducal house of Norfolk, by his mother with the Loftuses. He was 
 educated at Sheridan's school, bound to an attorney called Nixon, and 
 spent his time rhyming. 
 
The Three Miss Montgomery s. 165 
 
 Another admirer addressed some verses on seeing them at a 
 fancy ball, which were not quite so satisfactory. After com- 
 paring them to the three beautiful forms which appeared to 
 Paris on Mount Ida, and the difficulty in their case of making 
 a choice, he adds, — 
 
 Yet Truth to speak had I the fruit 
 Lest rage in sister hearts should glow, 
 I'd end at once the whole dispute 
 And give the apple to Munro. 
 
 The writer must have been very simple to suppose i/i is would 
 be acceptable. 
 
 Unlike Dolly, however, the trio of Graces had other and 
 more substantial charms than their lovely faces. They were 
 co-heiresses to the large estates of their mother; not that I 
 would insinuate that the vulgar accident of fortune had aught 
 to do with the admiration the beautiful sisters excited. In the 
 days in which they lived, men were more easily impressed by 
 the power of beauty than in this mercenary age. As we have 
 seen in the case of the Gunnings, a really beautiful woman 
 could aspire to the highest position. Love will not be easily 
 dethroned, and in the present day we have many refreshing 
 instances that his reign is by no means at an end. There is, 
 however, sufficient justification for the conclusion that romance 
 is somewhat " gone by.^' 
 
 Very different to the Gunnings, the Miss Montgomerys 
 were well educated ; they had studied much, and had the 
 advantage of an excellent training from the hands of 
 Samuel Whyte,^ who was a well-known schoolmaster of the 
 
 ' Samuel Whyte was the natural son of Cai-)tain Johnson Whyte, 
 Deputy Governor of the Tower ; his sister married Dr. Philip Chamber- 
 layne. Archdeacon of Glendalough, and through this marriage he was 
 connected with the Sheridans, Mrs. Thomas Sheridan being a Miss 
 Chamberlayne. After the death of Whyte's father, the estate going to 
 the legitimate heir, Samuel was badly off, and by the advice of Tom 
 Sheridan opened a school at 75, Grafton Street, Dublin. His first 
 pupils were the Sheridan children. His school flourished, all the best 
 families sending their sons to be educated by Sam Whyte. He had 
 classes for young ladies, or visited them at their own houses, his terms 
 being three guineas for eight visits. His lessons in elocution were highly 
 considered, although Moore says his known partiality for the stage was 
 not in his favour. 
 
1 66 Some Celebrated Irish BeazUies of Last Century > 
 
 time. The blue-stocking mania, wliicli possessed fashionable 
 women of the last century, had its followers in Dublin, where 
 Mrs. Pilkington, Constantia Grierson, Mrs. Brooke, and many 
 others emulated Mrs. Montagu, Mrs. Vesey, and Lady Lucan. 
 Arthur Young and Mrs. Delany were both struck by the wit 
 and cleverness of Irishwomen of the upper class ; " their educa- 
 tion is careful and their reading, especially in classical history, 
 extensive . . . the conversation (even of the young girls) is 
 marked by much intelligence, this however is somewhat 
 marred by extraordinary coarseness ; they use expressions, 
 which coming from such fresh and lovely lips, have a startling 
 and unpleasing effect." This coarseness was, however, a marked 
 feature of the last century ; those sweet-looking creatures 
 before alluded to who walked in the walled-in garden with 
 the mulberry trees, so charmingly described by Mrs. Lynn 
 Linton, were given to calling "a spade a spade." In the 
 intervals of washing the china and getting up " the fine linen " 
 they improved their minds with the reading of Tristram 
 Shandy ' and Clarissa Harlowe . . . The Miss Montgomerys 
 were otherwise employed, their studies occupying most of their 
 time. We hear of them attending lectures upon the optic 
 nerve, which were crowded by ladies of rank and fashion, 
 most of them pupils of Mr. Whyte, who immediately wrote an 
 ode (versifying was of course his passion) describing the 
 charms of each lady : — 
 
 " In Anna's - sjiartling eyes we find 
 Each calm perfection of the mind." ^ 
 
 ' Goldsmith, in the Chinese Citizen, dwells upon the toleration with 
 which Tristram Shandy was received by the female portion of the com- 
 munity. He wonders at their applauding it, and, what was worse, in- 
 troducing this free tone into their conversation. " Yet so it is, the pretty 
 innocents now carry these books openly in their hands which formerly 
 were hid under the sofa cushion." 
 
 " Anna was, of course, Anne Montgomery, Of the three sisters, 
 Barbara seems to have been his favourite, although indeed the good 
 Dominie had as many favourite pupils as Mr. Bentley has favourite 
 novels ; he was fond of them all, esj^ecially those who were raised to the 
 peerage. 
 
 ^ This ode, called " The liyceum," is to be found in Hibernian Cresses, 
 published by Mr. Whyte. In it he passes in review all the ladies who 
 were present on the occasion of the lectui-e. Anne Montgomery sat near 
 
The Three Miss Mo7ito ornery s. 167 
 
 Since 1759, a special feature of Irish society had been 
 private theatricals, which had seized upon the upper classes as 
 a passion. Excellent performances had taken place at Lurgan, 
 Castletown, and Carton. The Honourable Luke Gardiner 
 built a theatre at his lodge in the Phoenix Park, where, assisted 
 by his friends, Mr. and Mrs. Jephson, he gave constant entei*- 
 tainments. Most of these were under the superintendence of 
 Mr. Whyte, who shared the prevailing taste, rather to the 
 deti'iment of his more responsible and lucrative employment. 
 He was never so happy as when getting up a play, superin- 
 tending rehearsals, writing prologues, and instructing the fair 
 performers. 
 
 The first appearance of the Miss Montgomery s on the 
 amateur stage was at Leixlip Castle, the summer residence of 
 the Irish Viceroys. The pieces were somewhat ambitious, 
 Tamerlane and The Fair Penitent ; the performers, Lords 
 Kildare and Mountmorres, Messrs. Brownlow and Jephson, 
 and the three sisters. This would seem to have been a private 
 affair, and probably only the friends of the Viceroy were 
 invited. Later there was a public performance in Dublin for 
 the benefit of the prisoners in the Marshalsea.' 
 
 A check, however, was put to gaiety of any kind by Lady 
 Townshend^s death in 1770, after which, as we know, for a short 
 period, the Viceroy transferred his attentions to Dorothea, 
 It seems probable, however, that all through his real 
 admiration was for Anne. Her portraits represent her as 
 a beautiful young woman, and her mentaFqualifications were 
 more likely to hold the affections of a man like Lord Towns- 
 
 him, and induced him to write the poem, which he did then and there; 
 she furnishing him, as he sat on a bench at her feet, with a pencil and 
 cards for the purpose, which she took from him as they were filled, and 
 afterwards transcribed with her own hand for the Shamrock, in which 
 they were published. — Hibernian Cresses. 
 
 ' Grattau, writing on 13th February, 1770, to his friend Day, says : — 
 " I was so stupid as to refuse a ticket, and lost a most magnificent 
 spectacle, and in the instance of Miss Montgomery and Jephson, a fine 
 performance ; the former an accomplished actress?, the latter a formed 
 actor." Several ladies, he adds, dressed for different characters, amongst 
 them two of my sisters were numbered, but none spoke. In fact, the 
 Miss Montgomerys refused to be the only women who would act, and 
 therefore required the appearance of female society.'' 
 
1 68 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Ce^itury. 
 
 hend, who, witli all liis faults of judgment, was possessed of 
 undoubted ability. His attentions were of a most decided 
 character, and made the object of them the mark for all the 
 usual gossip ; Anne's name was in everyone's mouth, and lier 
 chances of being Lady Townshend was the subject of jests 
 and wagers. This unpleasant position does not seem to have 
 ruffled Miss Montgomery's composure. She was quite able to 
 lend her help to Mr. Whyte, whose prize day was alway dis- 
 tinguished by an excellent dramatic performance given by his 
 pupils. In 1772, Caio ' had been chosen, and so much satisfac- 
 tion had it given, that it was repeated on a larger scale at 
 Crow Street Theatre " for the relief of the confined debtors in 
 the different Marshalseas.'^ 
 
 Whyte's popularity was made evident by the assistance he 
 received on all sides ; the Earls of Kildare, Bellamont and 
 Dunluce were stewards ; Lord Mornington ^ conducted his 
 amateur band, while Mr. Whyte's fair pupils rallied round him, 
 lending every assistance in their power. Foremost were the 
 Montgomerys, whose charge it was to decorate the theatre, 
 which they transformed into a bower of roses. Anne did more, 
 she used her influence with her noble admirer to give his 
 patronage to the performance. All these attractions contrived 
 to make the performance fashionable, and, as everyone knows, 
 fashion means success ; the house could have been filled three 
 
 ^ The cast for Cato was altogether by boys. In the prologue, wliich 
 was written by Mr. Whyte, occurs the following lines : — 
 
 We plead our years. I am, sirs, only seven, 
 OurMarcia's nine, her father scarce eleven. 
 But with great Cato's sentiments impressed 
 Honour and filial reverence fill our breasts. 
 An amusing story was told of the boy who performed Fortius ; he dis- 
 tinguished himself by an easy deportment which would have done credit 
 to a veteran of the stage. In the love-scenes, however, there was a 
 singular lack of the same fire, and his instructors took him to task for 
 this coldness and languor. He gave as a reason that he could never for- 
 get it was a boy who acted the part, but if, said he, you will prevail on 
 your pupil little Miss N — (a rising beauty of eight years old) to play the 
 character, you shall see, sir, with what spirit I will go through the 
 scene. — Hibernian Magazine. 
 
 - Mornington, a dilettante nobleman whose compositions still command 
 favour, had founded a musical academy, altogether supported by 
 amateur talent. 
 
The Three Miss Montgomery s. 169 
 
 times over. Lord Townsliend came in state, his box was 
 crowded witt officials in splendid uniforms. In the box next 
 to him sat the three beautiful sisters ; the Viceroy paid Anne 
 the most devoted attention, and all the world said they were 
 engaged. But in this the world, as it often is, was wrong. 
 
 This was Lord Townshend's last public appearance in 
 Dublin. To the joy of his enemies, and their name was legion, 
 his recall had come. The Government, yielding to the pressure 
 put upon them by the Irish members, and finding it impossi- 
 ble to countenance Townshend's outrageous impropriety of 
 conduct, appointed as his successor Lord Harcourt. Under 
 these circumstances it is usual for the holder of office to at 
 once vacate his appointment. Townshend, with a strange lack 
 of dignity, lingered on in Dublin, although no shadow of power 
 remained in his hands. Why he did so remained a mystery — 
 unless it was that he could not tear himself away from Anne's 
 sweet presence. Tliis is what he, no doubt, told her. A 
 writer in Baratariana alludes to this in plain language. " In 
 what manner soever he spent his nights, his days were un- 
 doubtedly passed at her uncle's house, enjoying his gratuitous 
 hospitality ; and yet the charms of the fair Montgomery, which 
 might have attracted the most elegant nature, could not fix his 
 capricious mind." In other words, he once more played the 
 part of a recreant knight, and took himself off without making 
 the young lady any definite offer. That he should trifle in such 
 a discreditable manner with a girl of Anne's position was not 
 to be borne, especially as, unlike Dolly, she had a brother who 
 would not allow his sister's name to be made a by-word for 
 idle gossips to chatter over. Captain Montgomery lost no 
 time in following the escaping lover, caught him at Holyhead, 
 and, under pretext of a political quarrel, gave him the option 
 of a duel or a proposal. 
 
 Lord Townshend — who had already as we kuow six duels on 
 his hands — imitated the plan adopted under similar circum- 
 stances by the Due de Grammont, and made the messenger 
 the bearer of his declaration, giving some explanation of its 
 tardy avowal which satisfied the injured feelings of the young 
 lady. The marriage, however, did not take place for some 
 
170 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 mouths, and in the interval Elizabeth, the eldest, got engaged 
 to the popular Amphitryon, Luke Gardiner ; and Barbara, the 
 youngest, to the Honourable John Beresford, the second son 
 of Lord Tyrone. Both marriages were all that could be 
 desired. 
 
 In Sir Joshua Reynolds' very delightful diary we iind 
 this triple event noted : — 
 
 " Monday, March 1st, 1773. 
 
 "At 11 o'clock arrives an Irish gentleman, the Right 
 Honourable Luke Gardiner, now in London for his marriage 
 with Miss Elizabeth Montgomery, one of the three beautiful 
 daughters of Sir William Montgomery, of whom another is 
 engaged to Viscount Townshend, lately succeeded in the Lord 
 Lieutenancy of Ireland by Lord Harcourt, and the third to 
 the Honourable John Beresford ; all three marriages are to 
 come off this year or next at latest." 
 
 The outcome of Mr. Gardiner's sittings for his own portrait 
 (now at Petworth) was a commission from him to Sir 
 Joshua to paint the three beautiful sisters in a group. Ac- 
 cordingly the sittings began in May. Those who visit the 
 National Gallery can there see the result. Mr. Gardiner, who 
 paid the bill, naturally had the right to have his wishes con- 
 sulted. He desired, as he said in the letter he wrote intro- 
 ducing the Miss Montgomery's to Sir Joshua, to have their por- 
 traits " as representing some allegorical or historical subject." 
 This rather absurd notion was then in fashion, every artist had 
 to pander more or less to the fashionable craze which possessed 
 the lady of quality to hand herself down to posterity disguised 
 as one of the very immoral goddesses of Olympus; although 
 as Alan Cunningham says, " What claim a Duchess of Man- 
 chester with a babe on her knee could have to the distinction 
 of Diana, it is difficult to guess." 
 
 The picture of the " Graces," as painted by Sir Joshua, 
 is fortunately only mildly allegorical. If allegory was to 
 be employed — and as his biographer remarks, it was not 
 the painter's suggestion, but the patron's — there could 
 be nothing more appropriate to these beautiful girls, 
 
TJie Three Miss Montgomery s. 1 7 i 
 
 standing hand in hand on the threshold of Hymen, than 
 to represent them as wreathing with flowers a statue raised 
 to the God of Marriage. Before, however, the picture was 
 finished. Lady Townshend had been married. Sir Joshua has 
 therefore imparted to her a more dignified air. She stands 
 next to the statue of the god (who is represented as blind) ; she 
 is tall and stately, robed in white, and her face has a sweet and 
 lovely expression. There is a wealth of beauty, so to speak, in 
 the luxuriant colouring, golden hair, and most bewitching smile. 
 
 Charming as is my Lady Townshend, yet I like almost 
 better Barbara, who kneels on the right hand, gathering flowers 
 for the wreath. There is thoughtfulness in her young face, depth 
 in the dark lustrous eyes, and a tender sweetness about the 
 mouth, very captivating. Elizabeth, in the middle, has quite 
 a sprightly air ; pretty more than beautiful, with a certain spring 
 and joyousness in the whole figure, as if well satisfied with 
 what fortune has in store for her. Both these sisters (as 
 yet unmarried) wear brown, of the peculiar hue affected by 
 the painter, which makes a strong contrast with the white 
 dress of the bride ; the flowers look as if just gathered. Much 
 interest attaches to this picture . . . not the least part of which 
 being that it was bequeathed to the nation by the son of 
 Elizabeth, the well-known dilettante Earl of Blessington, who 
 made such a shipwreck of the good gifts of life. 
 
 Lady Townshend's appearance in the great world of London 
 was duly heralded ; she was presented at Court, and Mrs. 
 Foley tells Mrs. Delany how she was surrounded by a posse 
 of Montgomerys, and Mrs. Delany writes to Miss Dewar " that 
 the men think the new beauty very handsome, but the women 
 won't allow her a shred of good looks." From this we can 
 gather that she was thought to be a dangerous rival. 
 
 Lady Townshend, however, did not long enjoy the benefits of 
 her high position. Lord Townshend's affairs, which had been 
 in a disastrous condition before he had accepted the Vice- 
 royalty, were irretrievably ruined by the extravagance he had 
 practised in Ireland, and his creditors upon both sides of the 
 channel became so troublesome, that he was forced to consider 
 theii" claims, the upshot being that he had to resign his ofiice 
 
I 72 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 and retire into the country, where, like CincinnatuS; he 
 devoted himself to the cultivation of his garden. 
 
 "Lord Townshend is undone/' writes Lady Gower ; "and 
 from possessing an income of 18_,000Z. a year has scarce one 
 thousand left. He has gone into retirement with the sting of 
 having involved his family in distress, when, had he acted on 
 right principles, he might have been an honour to them and his 
 country." 
 
 The one most to be pitied was Anne, who had done so much 
 to win not so much the man she loved, as the high position he 
 occupied. She seems, however, to have accepted the inevitable 
 with equanimity and to have spent her life peacefully, contribu- 
 ting largely to the future generation. For the rest, the erratic 
 Townshend was an altered man, and she had, so far as we 
 know, no reason to complain of him. 
 
 In 1786 his affairs grew more prosperous ; he was raised to the 
 dignity of Marquis, and the lucrative post of Master of the 
 Ordnance was bestowed upon him. Anne henceforth was 
 much in evidence in society. When the Prince of Wales 
 married the unfortunate Caroline of Brunswick, Lady Towns- 
 hend was made one of the ladies-in-waiting, and received many 
 marks of friendship from the Princess. She lived on well 
 into this century, surviving both her sisters as well as her 
 husband, who died in 1807. One of her daughters married 
 the Duke of Leeds ; ^ another. Lord de Blaquiere. 
 
 We have now to follow the fortunes of Elizabeth and 
 Barbara Montgomery, both of whose marriages were ex- 
 ceptionally brilliant. 
 
 Elizabeth's husband, the Right Honourable Luke Gardiner, 
 was member for the county of Dublin, member of the Privy 
 Council, and Colonel of the Dublin Militia. He was the sole 
 representative (through the female line) of his ancestors the 
 Earls of Blessington and Viscounts Mountjoy, and in 1779 
 he was made Baron Mountjoy, and later Viscount. He also 
 
 ^ The portrait of this lady was exhibited this year in. the Grafton 
 Gallery ; there is a resemblance to her mother, bat the air of distinction, 
 so remarkable in Anne Lady Townshend, is absent from Anne 
 Townshend Duchess of Leeds, who is for the rest a gentle, unpretending 
 type of beauty. 
 
The Three Miss Montgoinerys. i "]!) 
 
 inherited the Mountjoy estates, situated in Tyrone, valued 
 at thirty thousand a year/ in addition to the Gardiner 
 property, in and about Dublin.- He had a lodge in 
 the Phoenix Park, and the Manor House in Henrietta 
 Street, built by his grandfather, is described as a magnificent 
 residence/^ 
 
 In addition to these good things, Mr. Gardiner had qualities 
 
 ' He inherited the Mountjoy estates through Anne, the only daughter 
 of the Hon. Alexander Stewart, second son of William, first Viscount 
 Mountjoy, whose male issue terminated 1769, in the person of William, 
 third Viscount Mountjoy and first Earl of Blessington. 
 
 " The names of the streets in the now unfashionable region on the north 
 side of Dublin are suggestive of the Mountjoy and Gardiner families : — 
 Mountjoy Square, Mountjoy Street, Blessington Street, Gardiner Street, 
 Gardiner Place, Mountjoy Place. There are good houses in Mountjoy 
 Square and its surroundings, but it is now comparatively deserted, and 
 bears that sad aspect common to out-of-date localities. The auctioneers 
 and house agents have it to themselves, and seem likely to be the sole 
 
 ^ Mountjoy House was built in 1725 by Luke Gardiner, who married 
 in 1701 Anne, the only daughter and heiress of Alexander Stewart. The 
 old house is still existent and is let to lawyers as "chambers." It is so 
 accurately described in the Irish Builder of July, 1893, that I annex 
 the following : — " This magnificent mansion was erected about the year 
 1725, by the Rt. Hon. Luke Gardiner, grandfather of the foui-th Viscount 
 Mountjoy, ancestor of the Earl of Blessington, and may be described as the 
 Manor House of Henrietta Street. The reception-rooms are seven in 
 numbei', and the cornices and ceilings are finished in a rich and antif|ue 
 style. The ball-room is a noble apartment ; the architraves of the doors 
 and windows are adorned with fluted Corinthian columns surmounted 
 by pediments. The drawing-room, to the left of the ante-room on the 
 first-floor, possesses a beautifully carved oak cornice, the effect of which 
 is peculiarly striking. The front staircase is spacious and lofty ; the 
 walls are ])anelled, and the ceiling is handsomely ornamented. The 
 principal dining-room, looking into the garden, is square, with fine 
 stuccoed ceiling, and walls in square panels stuccoed, the squares broken 
 off' at the angles by curves. The architraves of the parlour doors 
 are as rich as carving could make them. There is a mock keystone 
 or block of wood that for elegant and elaborate carving in relief cannot 
 be surpassed. The stuccoed ceilings are in panels with enriched fillets, 
 quite palatial, and only in the ball-room are seen arabesques in the 
 centre. The window of the ball-room, which is over the jjorte-coc/icre, 
 has three opes, the centre ope being arched, and this is the only archi- 
 tectural adornment externally. Mountjoy House had originally a fine 
 porte-cochere, or covered carriage entry, arched with cut stone, on the 
 park side, next to the present King's Inn buildings. The park, or 
 ornamental ground, attached to this mansion, was purchased by Luke 
 Gardiner from the Dean and Chapter of Christ Church, and was 
 known as the '' Plover Park." The whole of the Mountjoy estate 
 in Dublin was sold in the Encumbered Estate Court, 1874, to Charles 
 Spencer Cowper for 120,00OL 
 
174 ^ome Celebrated Iidsh Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 both pei'sonal and meutal, likely to win a woman's love. He was 
 young and handsome, brave, chivalrous, and accomplished, a 
 brilliant speaker, a rising politician, a good amateur actor, and 
 a most popular man in society. This last quality has its dis- 
 advantages for those who care more for domestic happiness 
 than the tinsel brilliancy of society. Luke Gardiner, however, 
 seems to have made a good husband, Elizabeth sharing his 
 taste for social amusements and gaiety of all sorts; they led 
 a racketing, highly fashionable life. 
 
 At the period of which I am writing Dublin was a cheerful 
 little capital. Its mimic court was far gayer than that over 
 which excellent " Farmer George '' and his good, but somewhat 
 dowdy, Queen presided. There was plenty of fun and frolic, 
 and a general spirit of hilarity. In all that was going on 
 Luke Gardiner and his young wife took their share. We find 
 their names constantly coming up, here, there, everywhere. 
 Private theatricals had not lost their charm, and there was the 
 new diversion of masquerades, or ridottos, as they were styled, 
 which were much to the taste of Dublin society. 
 
 Masquerades had been favourite amusements in London 
 society from the time of George XL, who had revived the 
 fashion of " disguisement," which during the strict rule of the 
 Commonwealth had been rigidly proscribed. 
 
 Heidegger, the King's purveyor of pleasure, was eminently 
 successful in the manner of his entertainments, and after his 
 death his mantle fell upon a certain Mrs. or Madame Cornely, 
 whose house in Soho Square was much frequented. Fashion- 
 able leaders of society likewise gave splendid masquerades ; 
 it will be remembered that Lady Coventry declared herself 
 to be tired of them. 
 
 The fashion had now spread to Dublin, where the gay, 
 versatile nature of the people lent itself more readily to the 
 humours of the masquerade than did the gravity of the 
 English, who were content with looking the character each 
 had assumed, without any sustained effort in supporting it ; ' 
 
 ^ In proof of the manner in whicli English masks drop their assumed 
 characters, a good story is told bj Fuseli, who was induced by Mrs. 
 WoUstoncraft to form one of a party visiting the Opera House when a 
 
The Three Miss Montgomerys. 175 
 
 whereas it is in fact not so much the costume as the spirit of 
 •masking that is required to render the scene attractive and 
 enjoyable, what in fact the French understand so thoroughly, 
 the intrigue, that rare combination of witty repartee, sly fun, 
 delicate banter, and thorough adoption of the character 
 assumed. This it is gives such piquancy to the situation. 
 
 Masquerades were very welcome to a gay and volatile 
 society like that of Dublin ; they were supported by all the 
 wit and fashion of the city, and soon became most popular 
 with all classes. As no expense was spared in the matter of 
 costume, trade profited by the new fashion ; while there was 
 great scope for the display of a ready wit in the delineation 
 of the assumed characters ; there were ^ also opportunities for 
 malice to whisper into the ear of a jealous husband or wife 
 the poison of suspicion, or to spread some of the ill-natured 
 tittle-tattle which in a small circle is always passing round. 
 
 Leading members of society kept open house from seven 
 to twelve o'clock to receive the masks, who made the round 
 of certain fashionable houses. The Duke of Leinster's, in 
 Merrion Square ; Mrs. Kilpatrick's, 24, Merrion Street ; Lady 
 Arabella Denney's ; Mr. La Touche's, 10, Merrion Square; Mr. 
 Eowley's, and many others, where they were received with 
 much hospitality, and greatly enjoyed this exhibition of them- 
 selves. 
 
 In 1778, on St. Patrick's Day, a masquerade was given at 
 Fishamble Street rooms, which was attended by 700 people. 
 
 masquerade was given. He says, " We were endeavouring to be amused 
 by the masks, when a devil came howling about us, and tormented some 
 of the party to such a degree that I exclaimed in a loud voice, ' Go to 
 hell ; ' but the dull devil, instead of answering as became his character, 
 ' then I will drag you down with me,' or some such bitter remark, put 
 himself into a real passion and began to abuse me roundly, until to 
 avoid him I left the place." — Life of Fuseli. 
 
 ' Criticisms were freely made in the daily papers, and the masquer- 
 aders were taken very severely to task if they did not do justice to the 
 character they assumed ; they were expected to give even the nicer shades 
 of character, as when "a Caliban'' was reproached for only recollecting 
 " the savage " traits of that individual. The critics were hard upon any 
 one who did not come up to the standard, as when a Mr. Holmes repre- 
 sented a jockey with no knowledge of either Newmarket or the Curragh, 
 and Mr. Burrows essayed to play the magician with no gifts for that or 
 any part. 
 
1 76 Some Celebrated hHsh Beauties of Last Centiiry. 
 
 The Duke of Leinster altered his costume twicGj appearing 
 first as a fruit-woman, who changed her orauges for Shamrocks 
 as St. Patrick's Day advanced ; afterwards as a physician. At 
 this entertainment Mr. Luke Gardiner is especially noticed as 
 an old woman carrying her father in a basket and her child in 
 her arms, one of the best and most laughable masks in the 
 room. At supper Mr. Gardiner appeared in a black domino ; 
 Mrs. Gardiner is also named as most inimitable as Sestina the 
 opera singer. She likewise sang one of Sestina's songs. 
 
 In 1780 the gentlemen of Daly's Club gave one of the most 
 splendid masked balls in honour of the Countess of Bucking- 
 ham, wife to the Viceroy, and here again we have Mr. and 
 Mrs. Gardiner, he as a sixpenny doll, and his charming wife 
 as a " Fille de Patmos." One feature of these masquerades 
 was the ingenuity shown in the selection of the characters, 
 which undoubtedly evinces an originality of mind and know- 
 ledge of historical and classical subjects far beyond that of our 
 up-to-date maskers, who do not seem to get out of the stereo- 
 typed groove of Mary Stuart, Snow Maidens, Watteau 
 Sacques, and Henry VIII. A glance at the characters who 
 appeared a hundred and fourteen years ago, may suggest to 
 the fin-de-siecle masqueraders a welcome variety.^ 
 
 Two Spanish Slaves. Lord and Lady Antrim. (Elegantly dressed, and 
 
 fettered in the chains of Hymen.) 
 A Whey Woman. Mr. Maguire. (Nature itself.) 
 A Sixpenny Doll. Lord Mountjoy.'- 
 
 A Fille de Patmos. Lady Mountjoy. (Most beautiful Mask.) 
 A Tancred. Lord Stratheven. (Superb.) 
 A Beautiful Nun. Lady de Vesci. (Universally admired.) 
 A Patagonian Venus and her little Cupid. Mr. Cordot. (Enormously 
 
 amusing.) 
 A Leaden Mercury. Mr. Hewit. 
 The Scrapers. Mr. Cole and Mr. Hall. 
 
 ' Sometimes parts were assumed that would shock our British 
 matron, as for instance that of a lady who was expecting a certain 
 event ; the case, too, must have been imminent as she was hunting 
 everywhere for Dr. Jebb, the famous practitioner in that line. Dr. Slop 
 was also present, handing about his cards. Very few ladies of this 
 generation would know him to be " Mrs. Shandy's medical attendant," 
 but our great-grandmothers read Mr. Sterne's books for all they were so 
 demure. 
 
 ^ Mr. Gardiner had been created Baron Mountjoy in 1779. 
 
The Thi'ee Miss Montgoiiterys. 177 
 
 An Innocent Pretty Quaker, "Moved by the Spirit." Lady Harriet 
 Corry. (Who, accompanied by two curious fiddlers, formed an 
 excellent group, and played their parts with entertaining humour.) 
 
 A Portrait Painter. Mr. Wilson. (Original and amusing, though very 
 satirical on a certain celebrated President of the R.A., distributing 
 the following card : — Sir Joshua Carmine, R.A., London.) 
 
 A Bayes. Mr. Quin. (Curiously decorated with all the ensigns of 
 literature and the rates of authorship.) 
 
 A Double Face. Miss Cavendish. (Very good.) 
 
 The Fair Quaker of Deal. The beautiful Mrs. Mathews. 
 
 " Masqueing " was not the only accomplishment in which the 
 young couple displayed considerable talent. They were both 
 far above the ordinary amateur actors. Elizabeth had profited 
 by the training given to his pupils by Sam Whyte ; her clear 
 delivery of her words and freedom from all "amateurishness " 
 being due to his instructions in the art of acting. Without some 
 such training, it is idle to think of making any real success 
 upon either a public or private stage ; though the idea common 
 to amateurs is that they come forth as heaven-born actors and 
 actresses. This notion is fostered by the applause of friends, 
 who declare gravely that Dick Harrison and Lady May run 
 Wyndham and Mary Moore very close, and as for Giddens he 
 is not in it with Jim Louther as the funny man . . . but if, 
 listening to this pleasing flattery, Jim essays to make a living 
 out of his talents, he is soon brought face to face with the 
 unpleasant truth that he has yet to learn the drudgei^y of the 
 profession, before his great gifts will be appreciated. 
 
 In January, 1778, Mrs. Gardiner took rather a bold flight in 
 attempting the role of Lady Macbeth, the occasion being a 
 grand entertainment given at Mr. Gardiner's private theatre 
 in the Phoenix Park to the then Viceroy, the Duke of Rutland, 
 who with his beautiful Duchess honoured the first representa- 
 tion with his presence. It is interesting to read the caste of 
 this performance 11 G years ago. 
 
 Macbeth . . . Captain Jephson. 
 
 MacDuff . . . Hon. Luke Gardiner. 
 
 Duncan . . . Mr. Staples. 
 
 Banquo . . . Sir Alexander Schomberg.^ 
 
 ' Sir Alexander Schomberg, who commanded the Lord Lieutenant's 
 yacht, was a great admirer of Mrs. Gardiner's. The lines he addressed 
 
I yS Some Celebratea Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 Donald Tiluin Sir M. Crosbie. 
 
 Fleance Mr. Barry St. Leger, 
 
 Seward. Captain Ormsby. 
 
 etc. 
 Ladif Macbeth . Mr?. Gardiner. 
 
 Gentlewoman ]\Irp. Jephson. 
 
 Hecate .... Mr. Swan. 
 Speaking Witches : Mr. Toler, Mr. Knox, Mr. Prendergast. 
 Singing Witches .- Miss Gardiner, Miss Norman, Mr. Waller. 
 Apparitions : The Masters Montgomery. 
 To be followed by the 
 
 CITIZEN. 
 
 Commence . . . Mrs. Gardiner. 
 
 From tliis bill, it is evident that Mrs. Gardiner secured for 
 herself what is called in professional slang "all the fat." 
 According to the papers of the day, she carried away her 
 audience both by her acting and her extreme beauty. She pre- 
 sented Lady Macbeth, not as a harsh, unloving woman, but as 
 a tempting, seducing syren who armed herself with every 
 womanly attraction to win Macbeth to her ambitious purposes. 
 
 Her dresses were dreams of beauty, and in the second act 
 her parure of diamonds was valued at a hundred thousand 
 pounds. In the farce which followed she acted in the most 
 sprightly manner ; her dress was " white sattin puckered with 
 feathers, and when she spoke the epilogue, which was written 
 by Mr. Whyte, she appeared in a 2>'i'nk sattin Venetian night- 
 gown ' with an elegant blossom-coloured petticoat wrought by 
 herself.^' 
 
 to her explain the effect her, or more probably Mr. Whyte's, reading of 
 the part of Lady Macbeth produced upon the audience : — 
 " You looked so charming, that Macbeth, 
 
 When urged by you to acts of death. 
 
 Might for excuse your beauty plead 
 
 And think to sanctify the deed 
 
 By saying nothing could be wrong 
 
 That fell from your enchanting tongue." 
 It is worthy of remark that when Sarah Bernhardt recited the sleep- 
 walking scene she took this view, and by her superb declamation won 
 more pity than horror for the murderess. 
 
 1 In the latter part of the century it was the custom for ladies to wear 
 what was called bed-gowns at small friendly parties. They were richly 
 trimmed and made of handsome material, and probably resembled the 
 present fashion of loose jackets which are superseding tea-gowns. 
 
TJie Three Miss MontgomeTys. 1 79 
 
 It had long been Mr. Gardiner's ambition to be the repre- 
 sentative of the titles, as well as the landed interests, of his 
 maternal ancestors, and he had already made many efforts, 
 in which he was ably assisted by his brother-in-law, John 
 Beresford, to induce the Government to accede to his wishes. 
 It was, however, only in 1779, that the hon. member for 
 Down succeeded in making the first step, which was gained 
 after the usual custom then in force. ^'Mr. Gardiner, to 
 induce the Government to revive the title of Mountjoy in his 
 favour, promised to bring forward the Government measure of 
 protecting duties." There was nothing very astonishing in 
 this ; bribery and corruption were the order of the day. 
 Ponsonby, almost the only honest man in the Commons, 
 declared with tears in his voice, that there were 110 placemen 
 in the House. The Government trafficked in the purchase of 
 Boroughs ! the Radical or anti-government papers reviled the 
 traflSckers in strong language. Votes, it was said, could be 
 had by the half-dozen, and one vote was purchasable for the 
 price of a good dinner.' In this state of general corruption, 
 there was no need to raise a howl against Luke Gardiner's 
 laudable desire, to add the four magic letters to his honourable 
 name; he was, however, already unpopular. The measure he 
 had introduced into Parliament in 1778 for ameliorating the 
 condition of the Catholics had pleased neither side; this is 
 often the case of the intervener in domestic quarrels. The 
 state of political parties in Ireland had come to such an 
 impasse that there seemed no way out of the difficulties ; every 
 political man was the object of intense hatred to his opponents. 
 " Take it where you will," says Lecky, " the history of Ireland 
 is for ever and inalienably mixed up with the distinctions of 
 race and creed." 
 
 • The Government price for a Borough was 14,000^. ; at the time of 
 the Union the scale of payment was much higher. The revelations 
 made in the account of the secret service of Pitt (J. W. Fitzpatrick) 
 are on this subject curious, and do not raise one's opinion of human 
 nature. A short ballad of the time runs thus : — 
 
 Ye paltry underlings of state, 
 
 Ye senators who love to prate, 
 
 Ye rascals of inferior note 
 
 Who for a dinner sell a vote. 
 N 2 
 
I So So///r Ciicbrafcd Iris/i BcavfiiS of Last Ci/ifury. 
 
 There woro, liowevor, diffevout causes tit ^York to mid to 
 (.^ardiuor's unpopularity. Both lie and his brother-in-law, the 
 Hon. Ji^hn Borosford, had held for years a niuUiplicity of 
 lucrative appointments and enjoyed extensive patronaLCe. 
 
 riace-huntini*- was the rock upon which the parliamentary 
 party iu Irelaiul foundered. Every uiau wanted not only place 
 for himself, but provision to be fouud for " his sisters, his cousins 
 and his aunts ; '^ neither was his nepotism purely uuseUish. 
 The holder of the office obtained through friendly influence 
 had to pay an annual sum to his generous benefactor. This, 
 however, did not deter the hungry crowd who hung on to the 
 skirts of every great man, from besetting him with applica- 
 tions. Those who did not succeed in gaining what they 
 wanted, vented their disappointment in scurrilous attacks, 
 lampoons and ballads directed against their enemy. Gardiner 
 was handled very severely. The clever riddle '* Why is a Gar- 
 diner the most extraordinary man in the world ? " was made 
 in his honour, although few people were aware that it contained 
 a political signitication. It is now quite forgotten, but in its 
 day and up to the early fifties had a reputation equal to 
 Byrou's riddle on the letter H, which is now equally 
 consigned to oblivion. The Gardiner riddle, however, has a 
 good deal of point, and is worth reviving here. 
 
 Q. Why is a Gardiner the most extraordinary man in the 
 world ? 
 
 A. Because no man has more honours on Eartli, and he 
 chooses good Grounds for what he does. 
 
 He turns his Thyme to the best account. 
 
 He is master of the Mint and fingers Penny Boyal. 
 
 He raises his celery (salary) every year, and it is a bad year 
 indeed that does not bring him iu a })lum. He has more 
 houghs than a Prime Minister, does not want London Pride. 
 Ealxes a little under the rose, but would be more sage to keep 
 the fox from his enclosures, to destroy the rotten Boroughs, 
 to avoid the blasts from the no\th, and not to foster corrup- 
 tion lest a Flood ' should follow. 
 
 * An allusion to Flooil. the popular orator. 
 
The Three Miss Montgomery s. 1 8 1 
 
 Lord Mountjoy's peace of mind, which was not much 
 affected by his unpopularity, was much troubled by his desire 
 to have an heir to his title and large estates. But although 
 Lady Mountjoy had presented him with six daughters, it was 
 not until 1780 that she gave birth to a son ; who, to the intense 
 grief of his parents, died the following year. In the July of 
 1782 this loss was repaired, and the birth of Charles John, the 
 future Earl of Blessinton,' was the occasion of the most ex- 
 traordinary rejoicings, which lasted for four days. The whole 
 country was ablaze with bonfires ; casks of ale were broached, 
 and the fatted ox consumed. It is well human beings have not 
 the power of reading futurity ; if they had, it is to be feared 
 these inaugurative festivals would lose much of their gladness. 
 That the career of this much-wished-for child did not fulfil 
 its promise was due to the deteriorating influences which 
 surrounded him from his very cradle. His parents made 
 an idol of him; he was never denied any wish, and any 
 servant or preceptor who contradicted him was dismissed. For 
 this foolish indulgence his father alone was accountable ; 
 Lady Mountjoy's health, which had been seriously injured by 
 her excessive grief for the death of the first son born to her, 
 was utterly shattered by the birth of the second. She fell 
 into decline and died in 1783, at the early age of thirty-two, 
 thus paying the penalty which often accompanies the fulfil- 
 ment of an inordinate longing for some good hitherto denied 
 by Providence. 
 
 She left a family of six daughters and the aforesaid son. 
 The years Mountjoy - survived his wife were years pregnant 
 with disaster to the country. Years too of excitement, of 
 a certain measure of patriotic spirit which, like most move- 
 ments of the sort in Ireland, was strangled in its cradle by its 
 own parents. It would take too long, and be out of keeping 
 with the present subject, to enter upon the history of 
 
 * Charles John, Viscount jMountjoy, born 1782; advanced to the Earl- 
 dom of Blessinton, 1810; married, 1812, Mary Campbell, widow of Major 
 William Browne; secondly, 1818, Marguerite Farmer, widow of Captain 
 St. Ledger Farmer. In all (Ad peerages, Blessinton is spelt without 
 (J. For memoir of Lady Blessinton see second series. 
 
 2 Lord Mountjoy married a second time, 1793 ; he was raised to the 
 rank of Viscount, 1795, and killed at the battle of New Ross, 1798. 
 
i82 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 the volunteers when they first started under the auspices 
 of Lord Charlemont, Grattan, Langrishe, and Napper Tandy. 
 They bid fair to work a revolution in the political and 
 social condition of Ireland that would have placed it in a fore- 
 most place amongst nations. We know how, and from what 
 causes, this splended combination failed to fulfil its promise j 
 how the poison was disseminated by the crafty intriguer ; how 
 man was set against man, jealousy, self-assertion and self- 
 aggrandisement were brought into play, with the result most 
 desired of Ireland's enemies, that all those who were influenced 
 by real patriotism withdrew, and the self-seeker, the place- 
 hunter, and the wire-puller, remained to undo the work only 
 half begun. 
 
 When the volunteers laid down their arms, the first step was 
 made towards the rebellion of 1798. The hydra-headed 
 monster Bigotry, at all times inclined to be rampant in 
 Ireland, and which under Grattan's enlightened influence had 
 begun to lower its crest, rose up again to oppress, irritate, 
 and persecute the weaker party.' 
 
 Foremost among the dominant party were the Beresfords, 
 a large and powerful clan, having ramifications and branches 
 all over Ireland, together with influence and support from 
 their English connections. The head of the house was 
 the Earl of Tyrone, whose eldest son was created Marquis of 
 Waterford in 1789 ; John Claudius, who married sweet Barbara 
 Montgomery, being the second, and by far the most^remarkable, 
 of Lord Tyrone's numerous family. The Beresfords have ever 
 been a fine race ; the men brave, the women fair. They 
 cannob be claimed as Celts ; here again we have the fruits of 
 the plantation made by James I., which has grafted, so to speak, 
 so many Saxon shoots upon the original sap of the Celt. The 
 Beresfords fought against James II., but the family did not 
 attain hereditary honours until the marriage of Sir Marcus 
 Beresford with Katherine de la Peer, the only daughter and 
 heiress of the second Earl of Tyrone, when the title was re- 
 vived in favour of her husband. 
 
 * This subject will be treated with fuller details iu Sarah Curran's 
 Memoir, second series. 
 
The Three Miss Montgomery s. 183 
 
 This Katherinede la Poer had uo less thau fifteen children, 
 eight sons and seven daughters. John Claudius was the 
 second son ; he had married, in 1 760, a lovely French girl, 
 daughter of General Ligondes. She was recently dead at the 
 time he met his second wife. 
 
 The gossips of Dublin said he was an odd choice for so 
 young a girl as Barbara Montgomery — a widower with seven 
 children, and twice her age — but then, as Barbara was but 
 seventeen, that did not make the Honourable John even 
 elderly. He was in fact thirty-seven, barely in his prime, a 
 handsome man with a fine presence, of high family, wealth, 
 position, and with singular force of character. His ambition, 
 or, as his enemies called it, his greed of place, was abnormal, 
 even in a time when pluralism was the crying sin of the 
 country. The list of the oflnces he held tells its own tale, and 
 accounts for much of his unpopularity. 
 
 '' Beresford," says Mr. Lecky, " was one of the most distin- 
 guished examples of a class of politicians who were a peculiar 
 and characteristic product of the Irish political system. He 
 belonged to a family which, although uttei-ly undistinguished 
 in Parliament and in responsible statesmanship, had secured so 
 large a proportion of the minor ofiices in the administration, 
 had employed its patronage so exclusively for the purpose of 
 building up family influence, and had formed in this manner 
 so extensive a system of political connections and alliances that 
 it had become one of the most powerful controlling and direct- 
 ing influences in the government of Ireland. In a curious 
 and valuable paper drawn up for or by Lord Abercorn in 1791, 
 it is stated that in that year what was called the Beresford 
 party was reckoned at only eight members ; '^ but the 
 Chancellor, Lord Clare (whose wife was a Beresford), together 
 with the Attorney- General and the Chief Secretary were allied 
 to it. John Beresford was the first Commissioner with an 
 official house and saWy of 2000L ; he was taster to the Port 
 of Dublin, an office worth lOOOZ. for his own life and that of 
 his eldest son, who likewise enjoyed the post of counsel to 
 the Commissioner, with a salary of 2000L, while his second son, 
 John Claudius, had a very lucrative office in the revenue. 
 
184 So7Jie Celebrated hHsh Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 We can thus form an idea of the hatred Mr. Beresford's 
 good fortune earned for him from those who, had the oppor- 
 tunity been afforded to them, would have acted in a similar 
 manner, but who now took every opportunity of blackening 
 his character by all the means in their power. When, by his 
 persistent efforts, the Custom House, one of the most elegant 
 of architectural structures, was built, no credit was given to 
 him, although there is ample proof in his letters to Gandon, 
 the architect, that he was actuated by an honest desire to 
 beautify the city, and had no ulterior view of building him- 
 self, as his enemies maintained, a palace at the expense of the 
 country.* 
 
 There is, however, no doubt that Beresford's restless 
 nature, which was for ever weaving fresh schemes for his 
 own aggrandizement, led him to make use of this opportunity 
 to improve the neighbourhood, and add to his own fortune. 
 With this view he undoubtedly spoiled the appeai-ance of the 
 building, by placing it too near the water j this enabled him 
 to build a handsome crescent of large houses, which he hoped 
 would be occupied by merchants, who would find the close 
 neighbourhood of the docks convenient for their business. 
 This crescent was called, in his honour, Beresford Place; 
 the centre house was Beresford's Bank, a new speculation 
 of his which at first was highly successful. The rebel- 
 lion of 1798, and the Union following close upon it, ruined all 
 commercial enterprise, and Beresford's plans suffered collapse. 
 The trade of the docks fell to nothing; the Crescent was 
 never occupied by merchants ; the Bank failed ; and the sere 
 and yellow of decay, which creeps over bygone localities, is 
 on Beresford Place. 
 
 We are, however, anticipating. In 1774 there was no sign 
 of this great upheaval ; all was mirth and extravagance. 
 Lord Harcourt, who had imbibed all the elegant tastes of 
 the Court at Versailles, was reckless in his magnificence," and 
 
 1 Beresford asked from the Exchequer 10,000/. for building the Custom 
 House, but it ultimately cost 100,000/., a large sum for so impoverished 
 a treasury as that of Ireland. 
 
 2 The Harcourt administration was unrivalled for its extravagance, 
 and almost beggared the nation. — Grattan's Life. 
 
The Three Miss Montgoinerys. 185 
 
 to keep pace with him the nobility had to lay heavy burdens 
 upon their already heavily burdened estates. 
 
 The entertainments given were of the most costly de- 
 scription ; ' the distress was every day increasing and the 
 discontent growing, while the press was not slow in pointing 
 out the rocks upon which the country was drifting, but 
 the counsels given were altogether dictated by party 
 exigencies ; every man was for himself and his own 
 advantages. '"' Ajjres moi le deluge,^' said they, and so the 
 evil grew, there seeming to be no remedy. 
 
 Through all the gay doings of the time, we hear very little 
 of Barbai'a. From a poem addressed to her by Mr. Whyte, 
 it is evident she had grown very demure, as by contrast to 
 her joyousness in youth. 
 
 Prancing and proud, she danced into the world, 
 
 She talked, she tittered, tossed her head and curled. 
 
 By Nature lively ; she grew wild by art, 
 
 For sure it was so pretty to be smart. 
 
 But soon recovering, flushed with mirth and youth, 
 
 Contented she soon came home to sense and truth. 
 
 Although she had not much to say to the gay world, there 
 is occasional mention, here and there, of the beautiful Mrs. 
 Beresford." The papers, too, duly record the recurrence of 
 
 • " Our ladies and gentlemen," writes the Spt/, " are raking the marrow 
 of our bowels to support their extravagance. More rent for houses, more 
 rent for lands, corn dear, provisions dear, wool exceedingly dear, times 
 precarious, counting-houses shut, few notes current. London, France, 
 Spain, Germany, swarm with thy children, O Hibernia. Why ? 
 Because they cannot find employment at home. One suit of native 
 poplin in the wardrobe, regiments of silk of English manufacture. 
 Hibernian ladies dressed in silk of gold and silver embroidery, while 
 even one loom cannot find encouragement at home. 
 
 Alas, Hibernia, how silent thou sittest 
 As a babe smiling at thy destiny. 
 Thou sittest like a child on the irj«^ of a 'precipice. While thou seest, 
 or at least regardest not, the imminent danger which threatens thee. 
 
 2 She continued a kindly intimacy with her old master. No. 1 of his 
 Peruvian Letters are inscribed to the Hon. Mrs. Beresford, and she and 
 her husband, who likewise had been a scholar of old Sam's, took endless 
 copies on royal paper of the old gentleman's books, published by 
 subscription. Mrs. Beresford's portrait was hung in the place of honour 
 in his drawing-room, where little Tommy Moore, who was at the 
 grammar school in 1779, saw it. It was, however, customary for Mr. 
 
1 86 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 annual additions to her family, for, like Lady Mountjoy, she 
 had an ever-increasing nursery. The thoughtful expression 
 which is noticeable on her young face in Sir Joshua's picture 
 deepened as the years went by ; and she saw less and less of 
 her husband, occupied as he was by his many ambitious 
 schemes. She must have felt, too, a dread of what might 
 happen some day, surrounded as he was by men who hated 
 him with that fierce hatred born of jealousy. At last it 
 seemed as if they would have the opportunity of satisfying 
 their rancour ; the English Government had long been aware 
 of Beresford's unpopularity, as well as the reason for it. Every 
 Viceroy in turn had complained that there was no chance of 
 content so long as the dominant party, at the head of which 
 were the Beresfords, "continued in power. The condition of 
 Ireland was indeed critical, and the storm that had been so 
 long brooding was now ready to burst. Still the upper classes 
 seemed to have been struck, as were the French nobility in a 
 similar crisis, with a moral cataract ; they were utterly blind 
 to the signs of distress, of deep discontent, that were seething 
 below the surface ; they ignored the warnings of better advised 
 politicians, and went on building fine houses, spending the 
 money that was wrung from miserable peasants in fiddhng, 
 gambling, drunkenness, and all the amusements in which fine 
 gentlemen indulged. The Government, however, were 
 becoming alarmed ; they distrusted the men in power, and 
 disapproved of the oppressive measures that were being 
 pursued. The English cabinet decided for a policy of con- 
 ciliation, and, as a first step, Beresford was to be sacrificed to 
 the public hate. 
 
 The Viceroy chosen to succeed Lord Harcourt, and to 
 carry the flag of conciliation, was Earl Fitz William. No 
 better choice could have been made. The FitzWilliams 
 had been, for more than two centuries, closely allied with 
 Ireland, and unlike many of her step relations, their influence 
 had ever been used for the good of the country with which 
 they were connected. Under Elizabeth, Sir William Fitz- 
 
 Whyte's lady pupils to present him with a meJallioa or portrait, in 
 return for which he addressed an ode. 
 
The Three Miss Montgomery s. 187 
 
 William held the oflfice of Lord Deputy for more than thirty 
 yearSj and acquitted himself of his trust to the satisfaction 
 of the Queen and the nation he had to govern. In another 
 generation, another Fitz William was raised to the peerage of 
 Ireland, with the title of Lord FitzWilliam of Lifford, Co. 
 Donegal, and later on his descendant was made Earl Fitz- 
 William of Tyrone. The Lord FitzWilliam with whom we 
 have to do was the 4th Earl in succession. He had married 
 an Irish lady, one of the popular family of Ponsonby, and was 
 well acquainted with the intricacies of government, and the 
 difficulty of steering between the complex shoals and rocks of 
 party. He was one of the most amiable of men, full of sympathy 
 and generosity, with an abhorrence of the system pursued 
 by the dominant party, having the Beresfords at their head. He 
 came resolved to put an end to all domination of one party or 
 creed, and determined that all citizens should, so far as 
 possible, have equal rights one with another. It is idle to 
 speculate whether he would have succeeded, or whether, as 
 is more than likely, the knife of the assassin would have cut 
 short his days. Men^s minds were hardly ripe enough to allow 
 of any fairness or consideration towards those who practised a 
 proscribed and hateful religion, while the battle of the Boyne 
 was still too fresh in the memory of the conquered, to be 
 forgotten or forgiven. 
 
 Lord FitzWilliam's first act of government was to dismiss 
 Beresford from his office of Commissioner.' This was received 
 with universal rejoicing, and was the first step towards the 
 extraordinary popularity enjoyed by the new Viceroy. The 
 I'ejoicing was, however, only short-lived* Beresford was not 
 a man to bear defeat quietly. He wrote letter after letter to 
 the Ministers, declaring himself to be an injured, persecuted 
 man ; he appealed passionately for support to Pitt, and finally 
 went over to London to lay his grievance before the Cabinet. 
 It is not likely that he would have been listened to were it 
 not that he was backed by the powerful influence of his 
 
 1 Lord FitzWilliam asserted that lie had stated to Pitt before 
 accepting office, that he was apprehensive Beresford should be removed, 
 and that Pitt made no objection. This, however, Pitt strenuously 
 denied. 
 
1 88 Some Celebi^ated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 brother. Lord Waterford/ and that of Lord Clare, the 
 Chaucellor, who forced Pitt to recall Lord Fitz William and to 
 reinstate Beresford. 
 
 The Catholic Relief question was made the ostensible reason 
 for the Viceroy's recall. Lord Fitz William, however, always 
 maintained that it did not enter, in the most distant manner, 
 into the cause of his dismissal. "Had Beresford never been 
 dismissed, I should have remained Viceroy," he said. 
 
 Beresford returned triumphant, and in a few weeks Lord 
 Fitz William was recalled, and Lord Camden was sent in his 
 place. This most unpopular act caused deep and serious 
 dissatisfaction. Never since Lord Chesterfield's period of office 
 had auy Viceroy won such golden opinions as Lord Fitz- 
 William ; whether either of the noblemen would have retained 
 the affection they had so quickly gained, would be a matter of 
 doubt ; neither of them had been long enough to decide this." 
 The easily excited L-ish people expressed their sorrow at their 
 favourite's departure by appearing in mourning on the day he 
 left ; they gave every sign of grief, drawing his coach to the 
 water-side, while the shadow of coming calamity cast its gloom 
 on every countenance. This was but too well justified ; from 
 that time a sullen, virulent disloyalty overspread the land, creep- 
 ing, in the words of Grattan, at the heels of the countryman. 
 
 Lord FitzWilliam was naturally indignant at being sacrificed 
 to the power of a clique. He said openly, that unless the in- 
 fluence of the Beresfords was broken, there would be no chance 
 of effecting any permanent good in Ireland. He employed 
 his clerks to write out an indictment against Mr. Beresford,' 
 which was privately distributed ; in it he made some accusa- 
 tions against his conduct in the sale of a public lease. In 
 consequence of this a duel was arranged, but although the 
 
 1 George De la Poer, second Earl of Tyrone, was created Marquis of 
 Waterford, 1789. 
 
 2 Lord Chesterfield remained eight months, Lord FitzWilliam two ! 
 
 ^ Beresford himself, in relating his interview (with Daly who came to 
 inform him of the intention of the Government to remove him) reports 
 that Daly told him " no Lord Lieutenant could exist with my power, that 
 I had made a Lord Chancellor, a Primate, and certainly a Commander, 
 and that I was considered King of Ireland." 
 
The Three Miss Montgomery s. 189 
 
 combatants appeared on tlie field, they were interrupted, and 
 it ended by Lord Fitz William making an apology. 
 
 The result of all the excitement showed itself in riots all 
 over the city ; these broke out the day Lord Camden was sworn 
 in, and were doubtless meant to terrify the newly-arrived 
 Viceroy. A brutal attack was made upon the Chancellor, Lord 
 Clare ; paving-stones were thrown at him as he drove back 
 from the ceremony of swearing-in Lord Camden, and he would 
 have been lynched at the lamp-post before his house in Ely 
 Place, only for a clever device of his sister, Mrs, Jeffreys. 
 The mob also attacked the Custom House, where John Beres- 
 f ord was then living, but he had provided a guard of soldiers, 
 who speedily routed the attacking party. 
 
 From this time Mr. Beresford's temper seems to have grown 
 more savage ; perhaps he thought he might as well earn the 
 hatred he had evoked, or it may have been that all softening 
 influences had passed out of his life. Barbara^s tender face 
 was no longer there to restrain him with its quiet thoughtful- 
 ness. She died, like h§r sister, Lady Mount joy, at an early age, 
 leaving a family of seven children.* Providence, with loving 
 kindness, oftentimes removes those who are ill-fitted to bear 
 the turmoil and hard knocks of life. Barbara was spared the 
 sad days of 1798, in which her brother-in-law, Mountjoy, lost 
 his life fighting the insurgents at New Eoss, in Wexford." If 
 
 ' One of her daughters married Charles Edward Count D'Albanie ; 
 he was one of the two brothers who set up a claim to be the legitimate 
 grandsons of the Young Pretender. John Wilson Croker, however, 
 demolished this story, and, according to him, "the Count " was the son 
 of John Carter Allen, Admiral of the White. 
 
 - The accounts of Lord Mountjoy's death were at first somewhat 
 different. It was stated that he was killed early in the day; Major 
 Vesey, however, maintained that he had been wounded and taken pri- 
 soner. When the fort was stormed, this was found to be correct, and that, 
 with the brutality which characterized this uprising, his body had been 
 cruelly mangled and butchered. This caused a feeling of great bitter- 
 ness amongst his friends, and of regret amongst those of the opiDosite 
 party who were not biased by vindictive animosity ; it was remembered 
 how he had stood forward as the friend of the Catholics when the Catholic 
 Relief Bill had been introduced into Parliament some twenty years 
 previously. A writer in the Irish Builder of July, 1893, draws attention 
 to the remarkable coincidence that Viscount Mountjoy and Viscount 
 O'Neil.whohadlabouredinfavourof a Catholic Relief Bill, the one moving, 
 the other seconding the resolution, should have been both killed in the 
 
1 90 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 all that is told of Jolin Beresford be true as to his unnecessary 
 cruelty to the miserable herd of prisoners who fell into his 
 hands, and the plots he wove against his own countrymen, there 
 can be no defence made for him. In these cases, however, one 
 must make due allowance for the excitement of the time, and 
 the exaggeration which would thus naturally arise. One of 
 the many accusations against him was that he fomented the 
 agitations of the country by coercive measures on purpose to 
 stir up the rebellion, in order to prove to Pitt that it could be 
 easily crushed. For this purpose he kept an "army of spies, 
 who are spoken of in the secret papers of the time as " Beres- 
 ford^s bloodhounds." His worst cruelties would appear to 
 have been the flogging of the unfortunate prisoners in the 
 riding-school in Marlborough Street ; this would justify the 
 hatred with which, it is said, the populace regarded him. 
 
 In curious contradiction to these accusations we have the 
 opposing testimony that when this " abhorred tyrant ^' had 
 completed his year of office as Lord Mayor of the city, his 
 carriage was drawn through the streets of Dublin by the vei-y 
 same mob who, we are told, had execrated him ; and even his 
 enemies were forced to acknowledge his term of office had been 
 marked by singular prosperity. 
 
 To the readers of the disastrous history of the time, Beresford 
 stands out as a central figure. Now that the clouds of prej u- 
 dice and party faction have cleared away, we can judge him 
 by a fairer standard than did those who lived in his time and 
 suffered from his iron rule. His letters to Gandon show him 
 to have been a well informed, accomplished gentleman. Had 
 he lived in a less difficult time it is likely that he would have 
 been a different man; there is much truth in Rousseau's doc- 
 trine that the manner of one's life depends a good deal on the 
 surroundings in which we are placed, at least this would hold 
 good where there is no very high moral standard. 
 
 same month and year by the insurgents, Lord O'Neil at Antrim, Lord 
 Mountjoy at Wexford. The writer forgets that twenty years is a genera- 
 tion, and that probably the slayer of both noblemen was an ignorant 
 soldier who had never heard of relief bills, but was possessed with a 
 thirst for blood. Luke Gardiner deserved a better fate ; he had a fine 
 nature, and a tinge of romance hangs about his life and death. 
 
TJie Three Miss Montgomerys. 19 t 
 
 Mr. FitzPatrick, one of tliose who have written most 
 severely of Beresford's cruelty, bears testimony to his abilities 
 and fine character. In his old age he came upon bad times ; 
 the failure of his bank was a severe blow, other speculations 
 were unfortunate, and he had no longer the energy of youth 
 to carry on fresh ones.' He died in 1805 at his country seat 
 near Londonderry. 
 
 Such is the story of the three sisters who look at us from 
 Sir Joshua's canvas ; a hundred and twenty years have passed 
 since the joyous trio of brides strung their wreath to Hymen. 
 It is to be feared the blind god was not as grateful as he 
 should have been to his postulants. The three marriages, 
 after all, did not fulfil their promise ; a sort of blight 
 seeming to fall upon each one. The picture, which for many 
 years, hung at Rath, Lord Blessington's seat in Ireland, was 
 by him bequeathed to the nation, and now fills almost one 
 side of what is called the Sir Joshua Room in the National 
 Gallery. 
 
 ' Like his brother-in-law, Lord Townshend, Beresford RohT,opd his 
 last years hy turning his energies to agriculture and the cultivation of 
 roses. 
 
ELIZABETH LA TOUCHE, COUNTESS OF LANES- 
 BOROUGH. 
 
 The beautiful subject of this sketch cannot be said, with 
 strict adherence to truth, to be of Irish descent ; but as she 
 was born in Ireland, we claim our charming countrywoman, and 
 consider it quite fair to annex her to our gallery of Irish 
 Beauties. In fact there are many families, who by long 
 custom, and residence of more than two centuries, have come 
 to be considered Irish, but who in reality date back to the 
 influx of French Huguenots which followed on the famous 
 Edict of Nantes. 
 
 Mr. Lecky says that the large body of refugees who came 
 over in the early part of the eighteenth century to Ireland 
 were of the utmost value, on account of the many influences 
 that were at this time drawing native talent and energy to the 
 Continent. These refugees were of two kinds, the French 
 Huguenots and the German Palatines. These last, who were 
 imported by a few wealthy landlords, belonged to the labour- 
 ing classes, and do not come into our subject. The Huguenot 
 refugees, exiled for their religious opinions, were either of the 
 upper and mercantile class, or skilled artisans in all branches 
 of industry. With a singular lack of prudence, the bigotry 
 of Louis XIV. sent forth these men to teach other nations 
 the arts formerly known only on the Continent. The 
 Huguenots, like their countrymen who were driven out of 
 France during the revolution of 1792, played a distinguished 
 part in the country which many of them adopted, never 
 returning to their own land to take their place as citizens. 
 In this way we find in Ireland the naturalized names of 
 Busse, Des Voeux, Chaigneau, D'Olier, Le Fanu, L'Estrange, 
 
Elizabeth La Tone he, Countess of Lanesboroiigh. 193 
 
 Maturin, Saurin, Lefroy, Le Nauze, Perrin, Cromelin, 
 Borough, derived from Boroher and La Touche. 
 
 These names for many years stood first in all the learned 
 professions, and to the energy of these men was due much of 
 
 COUNTESS OF LANESBOROUGH. 
 
 the progress made in Ireland during the eighteenth century 
 in intellectual as well as mercantile matters. To them Dublin 
 owed her first literary journal and her first horticultural 
 society ; while the linen and silk manufactures were brought 
 to the highest standard, and their products sought for in 
 home and foreign markets. 
 
 
 
194 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 The most prominent members of the Huguenot colony were 
 undoubtedly to be found in the La Touche family. They were, 
 according to Lodge and Whitelaw, of English descent, bearing 
 originally the surname of Digges/ They, however, left their 
 native country in the reign of Henry II., and settled 
 themselves at Blois, where they had large possessions — 
 amongst them the estate from which they took their name 
 La Touche. In their adopted country they rose to high 
 places, and were ennobled and distinguished by peculiar 
 privileges. In the 17th century, the doctrines of Calvin 
 induced the then head of the family to leave the old Catholic 
 faith, and to bring up his eldest son, David, as a Huguenot. 
 The boy, when only fifteen, became the heir to the estates 
 of the La Touches, but on its being known that he remained 
 firm to his father's new religion, he was proscribed and had 
 to fly, and all the property that escaped the rapacity of the 
 crown was transferred to his brother Paul, who remained 
 a Catholic. This was in 167L 
 
 Young La Touche, driven from his home, entered Colonel 
 Le Caillemote's regiment of horse-dragoons, which was 
 exclusively recruited from the ranks of men who like him- 
 self were proscribed for conscience sake. They were a fine, 
 lion-hearted, well-disciplined regiment, comparing favourably 
 with the Irish Brigade, recruited from the proscribed Irish 
 Papists. There is all along the line a strange coincidence 
 of resemblance between the proscribed Huguenot and the 
 outlawed Catholic. Both sacrificed everything for principle, 
 both made their homes in a foreign land, both fought in the 
 ranks of an alien army, and to emphasize the resemblance, the 
 Irish Brigade was opposed to Le Caillemote^s horse, at the 
 battle of the Boyne, and at the most critical moment. 
 
 To the lover of history, there is something wonderfully 
 romantic in the story of this battle. The setting that nature 
 gave to the spot where it took place lends it a peculiar 
 interest. The river — which is wide enough to let large vessels 
 
 ' Up to the present time the La Touche family add the not very 
 euphonious name of Digges to their surname, and will probably con- 
 tinue to do so to the end of time. 
 
Elizabeth La Touchc, Cotintess of Laiiesborough. 195 
 
 come up to the port of Droglieda — runs through one of the 
 sweetest^ most peaceful valleys in Ireland. It is bordered on 
 one side by the famous pasture-lands of Meath, the greenest 
 of green meadows, smiling with the fulness of prosperity ; 
 this is the picture as presented to-day. Two hundred years 
 ago this river was strewn with corpses, these green plains 
 were watered with the blood of 7600 veteran French soldiers, 
 most of them picked men sent by his Catholic Majesty of 
 France, together with the fine body of Irish dragoons, who 
 were nearly all cut to pieces. There is no more pitiful story 
 on record than the sacrifice of these brave men for a worthless 
 weak despot, half monk half libertine, as was James ; a miser- 
 able, feeble coward into the bargain, who fled away when, by 
 his own folly, he had lost the day. 
 
 On the 29th June James and his army had reached this point, 
 on his march from Ardee, whither he had retreated on hearing 
 that William had arrived at Carrickfergus. When he reached 
 the Boyne, James halted, it seemed to him a strong station. 
 On his right lay Drogheda, strongly garrisoned, on his left a 
 bog difficult to pass ; in front were the fords of the river, deep 
 and dangerous, the banks rugged and bounded by old houses, the 
 houses by rows of hedges, the hedges by a range of small hills, 
 and behind, the village of Dunmere, available for retreat, for 
 behind it was the pass of Duleck, where two men abreast could 
 not march. 
 
 His generals, however, were not all of James's mind ; 
 the wiser and more experienced advising a still further retreat 
 behind the Shannon. There the enemy could be more 
 harassed than here in a comparatively open country. The 
 younger and more blustering officers loudly murmured 
 against any further truckling, and advised the king to give 
 battle. James listened first to one, then to the other counsel, 
 apparently eager to take the wisest course, while in his heart 
 his only thought 'wa.^fligld. He was weary of marching and 
 counter-mai'ching, irritated at the influence possessed over the 
 army by Tyrconnell and Sarsfield, and provoked by the in- 
 dependence shown by his generals. He resolved on having 
 his own way ; and — with a show of courage that surprised those 
 o 2 
 
196 Some Celebrated Irish Bea?Uies of Last Century. 
 
 who knew his faint-heartedness, and imposed upon them for 
 the moment — announced his determination to have done with 
 truckling, and to bring matters to an issue. Again^ however, 
 he vacillated, and it was only sheer shame that kept him 
 from escaping to join the Fren ch fleet, which was advancing to 
 his support. It is an undoubted fact that he sent a private 
 letter by a trusty messenger to Sir Patrick Grant, desiring him 
 to get a vessel ready at Waterford to transport him to France. 
 William's arrival sooner than was expected forced him to 
 remain with the army. 
 
 William was ill in body and mind ; he had little hope of 
 success, and a foreboding of coming disaster ; but he fought 
 his way with the courage of despair, and surmounted every 
 obstacle. At the same time, it is plain to us — who regard 
 the past through the magnifying-glass which time lends to 
 all events in life — that it was James's own indecision and 
 obstinacy that were the principal factors against him in the 
 final struggle. From the first, the latter's want of firmness 
 was made evident ; he could not decide as to the disposition 
 of the army, and in the end made a fatal mistake.^ 
 
 From the beginning there had been a fierce jealousy between 
 the French and Irish troops. The veterans, who were the flower 
 of the French army, naturally looked down upon the Irish troops 
 who had not seen so much service. This the others resented, 
 loudly declaring that the post of honour in the battle should be 
 theirs, and that they would fire upon anyone who attempted 
 to take it from them. The result of this dispute was most 
 unfortunate, for in the disposition of the troops the ones most 
 to be depended upon were placed amongst the hills at the back ; 
 
 ' Eound the neighbourhood of the sjDot where the battle was fought 
 there linger still many traditions. In their fear of what might 
 happen, many families concealed their plate and valuables in the 
 caverns under the bridges, or in the bed of the river ; some of these 
 it is said are still full of treasures, which the owners never removed. 
 At Athcarne Castle, the room is shown where James II. slept 
 the night before the battle. In the Bellingham family there are two 
 curious relics, one the diary kept by Colonel Bellingham, who was the 
 King's equerry, and the small necessaire containing the flask and wine- 
 glass out of which William drank. There is a curious feeling in hand- 
 ling these little bottles, in which a portion of the wine still remains — it 
 seems to bring one in touch with the scenes of two hundred years ago. 
 
Elizabeth La Tone he, Countess of Lanesborouoh. 197 
 
 while the Irish regiments stood in the front rank, and defended 
 the bank of the river. On the " other hand, WilHam's disposi- 
 tion of his army was admirable. The Dutch, the French pro- 
 testants, and the Enniskillens were to cross the river first ; he 
 knew the attachment of the first to himself, and of the two last 
 to their religion. " It was not/' Macaulay says, " until they 
 had waded to the middle of the river that these brave men 
 became aware of the difficulty in which they were placed. The 
 whole place was alive with defenders. General Hamilton, who 
 commanded the Irish foot, made a splendid defence, and was 
 ably supported by the Irish Brigade, who advanced from 
 behind the hills with steadiness and prudence. The double 
 attack threw William's centre into confusion, and the Dutch 
 stopped. It was at this moment that Le Caillemote's men 
 came forward, led by their Colonel. A hand-to-hand fight 
 ensued between them, and the Irish Brigade, who fell upon 
 them with fury, broke their ranks, and put many of them 
 to the sword. Colonel Caillemote, who was leading on his 
 men, received a mortal wound ; four of his men carried him back 
 across the ford to his tent. As he passed, he continued to urge 
 forward the rear-rank, which was still up to the breast in water, 
 " A la gloire, mes enfants,a la gloire ! " he cried. Schomberg, 
 who had been watching the struggle from the bank, rode into 
 the river, and taking the command, rallied the refugees who had 
 been dismayed by the fall of their commander. " Come on," 
 he cried, and pointing to the French soldiers, " come on ! 
 there are your persecutors." Those were his last words ; the 
 Irish Brigade surrounded him, and when they retired, he was a 
 corpse ; the battle was, however, gained. James had fled away 
 to Dublin. His saying that he would never again trust him- 
 self to an Irish army, was answered by the contemptuous 
 remark, that if the English would change kings, the Irish 
 would fight the battle over again. - 
 
 ' Frederick Schomberg, or Schonberg, had served under William the 
 Second of Orange ; he had obtained several victories in the Spanish war, 
 and had reinstated on the throne the house of Braganza ; now he had de- 
 feated the last hope of the Stuarts. He was eighty-two years of age when 
 his gallant career was ended at the battle of the Boyne. Walker, the 
 defender of Derry, was killed almost at the same moment. 
 
 - The conquerors showed somewhat an ungenerous spirit in the 
 
198 So7)ic Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Centztry. 
 
 Le Caillemote's regiment had suffered severely. What re- 
 mained was embodied with the Brandenburgers, and followed 
 the remainder of the campaign. Colonel La Touche had 
 escaped with a slight wound, and took part in the siege of 
 Limerick, conducting himself all through with great gallantry. 
 When the war was finally over, Le Caillemote's regiment, or 
 at least what remained of it, was disbanded, and David had to 
 turn his attention to his own afiairs. He was tired of soldiering, 
 and felt drawn to the country which was to become his by adop- 
 tion. The number of his co-religionists, who had made Ireland, 
 and especially Dublin, their home, decided him upon settling 
 himself in that city, where he set about making his fortune. 
 
 Amongst the arts introduced by the Huguenots,' and in 
 which they excelled, was the weaving of rich and delicate 
 fabrics. The old brocades, with their delicious colouring and 
 their splendid texture, were the work of these exiles, who, 
 when they first arrived, had been allowed to set up their 
 looms in the crypt of St. Patrick's Cathedral. David La 
 Touche established a manufactory in High Street, and em- 
 ployed his countrymen. By dint of industry and perseverance, 
 in forty years he had accumulated a vast fortune. He aban- 
 doned commerce and turned his attention to finance. Already 
 he had made large loans to Government, and finally opened 
 the bank in Castle Street in conjunction with Kane, Lord 
 Mayor of Dublin. 
 
 moment of triumph. The literature of the day teems with songs and 
 hymns, all in a spirit of crowing, which must have irritated the beaten 
 party. These songs were sung through the streets of Dublin by the 
 college boys, and in moments of popular excitement have been 
 periodically revived. "The Battle of the Boyne," "The Relief of 
 Derry," and " The Protestant Boys," were the favourites ; one of the 
 least offensive is Colonel Blacker's arrangement of " The Battle of the 
 Boyne," which has a good deal of literary merit. 
 
 ^ The Huguenots made the linen manufacture flourish. Mr. Cromelin 
 was the principal introducer of this branch of industry ; he had carried 
 it on in his own hereditary establishment in St. Quentin. The 
 family of Cromelin settled, like the La Touches, in Ireland, and 
 have property in the north. Unfortunately, in the later land troubles 
 they experienced considerable loss. The Misses Cromelin have, how- 
 ever, shown the good old Huguenot spirit by setting to work to build 
 their own fortunes, and so far seem to have realized the proverb of aide 
 toi le del faidera. One is a rising novelist, the other is much con- 
 sidered as an elegant decorator ; she has a large staff of workmen and 
 assistants, and undertakes every species of decoration. 
 
Elizabeth La Tone he ^ Countess of Lanesboroitgh. 199 
 
 The following- notice of Mr. La Touclie is handed down by 
 his countryman, Latocnaye : — 
 
 "' Qxioique Banquier c'etait un homme humain et charitable 
 on rapporte sur ses vieux jours, il ne sortait jamais sans avoir 
 ses poches pleines de schellings, qu'il donnait aux pauvres ; 
 comme on lui representait que s'il donnait a tous ceux qui 
 lui demanderaient il ferait la charite a bien de mauvais sujets. 
 ' Oui/ repondait il, ' mais si mon schelling tombe a propos 
 unefois dans dix c'est assez ! ^ " 
 
 This truly excellent man could not, however, escape the 
 venom of the political pamphleteer, then a veritable scourge 
 to society. For taking the Government side in the famous 
 dispute on Wood's halfpence, ' the banker was made the 
 subject of one of Swift's scurrilous ballads, in which the 
 following verses occur : — 
 
 Poor Monsieur his conscience preserved for a year 
 Yet in one hour lost it 'tis known far and near. 
 To whom did he lose it ? A Judge or a Peer ? 
 
 V/hich nobody can deny. 
 
 This very same conscience was sold in a closet 
 
 Not for a baked loaf or a loaf in a cosset 
 
 But a sweet sugar-plum which you put in a posset 
 
 Which nobody can deny. 
 
 But the slaves that would sell us, shall hear on't in time, 
 Their names shall be branded in prose and in rhyme, 
 We'll paint them in colours as black as their crime 
 
 Which nobody can deny. 
 
 But Potter and copper La Touche we'll excuse, 
 The commands of your betters you dare not refuse, 
 Obey was the word when you wore wooden shoes. 
 
 Which nobody can deny. 
 
 It is not likely that the stout heart of the gallant old 
 Huguenot would be troubled by this evidence of party feeling ; 
 moreover he was now nearing a far greater assize than the 
 tribunal of his fellow-citizens. When the last summons came 
 
 ^ About the year 1772, during the adminstration of the unpopular 
 Duke of Grafton, one William Wood, a hardware man and also a 
 bankrupt, by applying himself to someone in power, and alleging the 
 great want of copper money in Ireland, procured a jjatent for coining 
 108,000^. in brass money to pass as current money, It was soon 
 discovered to be a vile job. The Irish people were to be allowed no 
 liberty to refuse the brass money. 
 
2CO Some Celebrated Irish BeatUies of Last Century. 
 
 he was found on his knees praying. It was on Sunday, while 
 service was going on in the Castle Chapel^ that he was seized 
 with a fit of apoplexy and passed away. He was ninety years 
 of agOj but in those days men lived longer than they do in our 
 days of express existence, and ninety was nothing out of the 
 common. In the Dublin Courier, of October 15th, 1741, his 
 death is mentioned with all honour. " He was a sincere 
 friend, a very merciful landlord, and tender to his debtors, so 
 that whatever could render a character truly amiable in public 
 life was what he was possessed of.'^ The same authority tells 
 us that he left all his property to his eldest son, and a hand- 
 some legacy to the youngest. 
 
 Colonel La Touche, when he settled down, had taken to 
 himself a wife. She was of his own religion, a rigid Calvinist 
 of the Dutch pattern. To them were borne two sons, David 
 and James. James married the daughter of David Chaigneau, 
 of Corkayne, Co. Dublin — this lady, who was very beau- 
 tiful, preferred the attentions of a certain Duke, and, for him, 
 deserted her husband. Mrs. Delany, writing in 1739, says : 
 " Madame La Touche has put out an apology for living with 
 his Grace of Dorset, and declares that love was the predominant 
 and hereditary passion of her family ! " After this, it was 
 easy for James La Touche to procure a divorce, and in 1743 he 
 married again, and died, full of age and respectability, in 1763, 
 leaving eleven stalwart sons to carry on the name of La Touche. 
 
 David, meantime, had not been idle ; he had married the only 
 daughter of Dean Marlay, afterwards Bishop of Dromore. 
 The Marlays are so often mentioned by Mrs. Delany that we 
 feel them to be personal friends. She was " the sweetest 
 woman,'^ he a man of society, fond of the arts, and in much 
 request. Like most of the dignitaries of the Church in the 
 last century, his cloth did not interfere with his pleasures. 
 We cannot take Swift, Sterne, or chaplain Warner, as bright 
 examples of high-class clergymen, nor even accept Dr. 
 Delany quite seriously ; the Bishop of Dromore was of the 
 same pattern as his friends. He was a good preacher, with a 
 mellifluous voice, but one could hardly imagine his administer- 
 ing consolation to the stricken peasants dying of typhus fever 
 
.Elizabeth La Toitchc, Countess of Lanesborotigh. 201 
 
 on the road- side. He was more fitted to take the part of 
 "Locket" as he did in The Beggar's Opera, given by the Duke 
 of Leinster at Carton, when Lady Lousia Conolly played Lucy 
 and Lord Charlemont Peachum, the whole being under the 
 superintendence of Mr. Whyte.^ It seems strange that this 
 somewhat unclerical conduct should have squared with the more 
 rigid principles of the descendant of the man who had given 
 up all worldly advantages for the sake of his conscience. There 
 is no reason to suppose, however, that the sons were not 
 quite as good Churchmen as their father had been. They were 
 in every way excellent men, and highly thought of by their 
 
 ' Fbom the oeiginal Bill of 
 
 The Beggar's Opera, played at the Earl of 
 
 Kildare's, Carton, 1761. 
 
 Cast of the Characters. 
 
 Macheatli 
 
 Captain Morris. 
 
 Peachum . 
 
 Lord Charlemont. 
 
 Locket . 
 
 Eev. Dean Marlay. 
 
 Felch . . 
 
 Mr. Thomas Conolly (of Castletown). 
 
 Polly 
 
 Miss Martin 
 
 Lucy 
 
 Lady Louisa Conolly (of Castletown) 
 
 Mrs. Peachum . 
 
 The Countess of Kildare. 
 
 Mrs. Slammerkiii 
 
 Viscount Powerscourt. 
 
 Jenny Diver . 
 
 Miss Vesey. 
 
 Cocker . . 
 
 Miss Adderly. 
 
 The prologue, which was written by the universal provider of verses, 
 Sam Whyte, had a modern ring; one could almost fancy a present- 
 day jjerformauce opening with — 
 
 " Our play to-night wants novelty 'tis true; 
 That to atone, our actors all are new. 
 And sure, our stage than any stage is droller. 
 Lords act the rogue and ladies play the stroller." 
 
 After some compliments to the matchless charms of Peachum's wife, 
 "For spite of art and care 
 The Lords and Graces will attend Kildare," 
 
 the poet ends with the doubtful compliment to the Dean — 
 " But when the mimic scene is o'er 
 All shall resume the worth they had before. 
 Locket himself his Knavery shall resign 
 And lose the Gaoler in the dull divine.'^ 
 
 The Miss Martin, of the dramatis personse, was one of the Dublin 
 belles. She lived in Channel Row, and in Hibernian Cresses there are 
 different verses addressed to her. 
 
202 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 fellow-citizens. As time went on, tlieir financial operations 
 considerably increased. The well-known bank, with which 
 their name was associated for many years, was built by David 
 La Touche, in Castle Street, where for more than a hundred 
 and fifty years a flourishing business was carried on, which 
 included the commercial interests of nearly all Ireland. 
 
 In 1778, when the Irish exchequer had unexpectedly run dry, 
 the then Lord Lieutenant, the Earl of Buckingham, applied to 
 LaTouche's bank for a loan of 20,000^., which was immediately 
 advanced on the credit of the Government. On another 
 occasion one of those sudden panics, which are as dangerous 
 to the financier as squalls are to the navigator, arose and 
 threatened to shipwreck every commercial house in the city. 
 The block in trade became so serious that the House of 
 Commons ordered a special commission to examine into the 
 solvency of the different bankers and men of business. The 
 result was a declaration that the Houses of Glendowe, Finlay, 
 and David La Touche and Sons were excepted from the general 
 bankruptcy, and had more than sufficient funds to cover all 
 demands. Meantime every proof of confidence was given 
 to Mr. La Touche by his clients and friends. A certain 
 Mr. Whaley, a wealthy but ' eccentric man of the day, 
 wrote to the banker the following laconic but satisfactory 
 letter : — 
 
 ^ The peoj^le of Ireland are as remarkable for facility and point in the 
 application of nicknames as were the people of ancient Rome. In our 
 sister kingdom a personal defect, an accident in life, a good or a bad 
 action, often attaches a characteristic or humorous epithet to a man, 
 that remains with him during life. In the rebellion of 1745, the laws 
 against persons professing the popish religion were revived in Ireland 
 without cause, and pursued by a few weak bigots with avidity. Rewards 
 were offered for apprehending priests, and the fellows who pursued this 
 infamous avocation were termed priest-catchers. Mr. Whaley having 
 accumulated a considerable fortune, was honoured with the commission of 
 the peace, and in consequence of the proclamation became a furious 
 persecutor of the popish ecclesiastics. In one of his priest-hunting 
 excursions, it happened that by firing a fowling piece, he lodged the 
 wadding in the thatch of a Romish Chapel, which, taking fire, was soon 
 consumed, a circumstance which gained for him the hatred of the 
 country people, who considered the offence to be a gross sacrilege, and 
 his Christian name being Chappel, they annexed to it the epithet of 
 hum, and he was notoriously known by the name of Burnchappel till 
 the day of his death. — From the Hibernian Magazine, 1789. 
 
Elizabeth La Touche, Cotmtess of Lancsboroitgh. 203 
 
 '' Mr. La Touche, hearing there is a run on your house, I 
 send you one hundred thousand pounds." Another story was 
 told of this erratic individual. Having married late in life, it 
 was a joyful surprise to him to know that his wife was about 
 to present him with what he fondly hoped would, and which 
 did prove to be an heir to his immense wealth ; he gave her a 
 cheque, couched in the followiog words : — 
 
 My good Mr. La Touclie, 
 You must open your pouch, 
 And pay my soul's darling 
 One thousand pounds sterling. 
 
 David and James La Touche partook of the dilettantism then 
 so much the fashion in Dublin. They were, moreover, not 
 only gentlemen of fine tastes, but generous patrons of artists, 
 many of whom visited Dublin at their instance ; amongst 
 these may be named Marinari, a decorative artist in Pergolesi's 
 style, and De Gree, who was starving in a garret at Antwerp 
 when Mr. La Touche found him out and assisted him. Barto- 
 lozzi was another who owed great obligations to the La Touche 
 family ; he executed a number of beautiful mezzotints for the 
 brothers ; many of them are still at Belview.^ 
 
 David La Touche resided for many years in Stephen's Green, 
 and it was not till towards the end of the century " that he 
 moved to a fine mansion in Merrion Square. In 1786, the tide 
 of fashion had set in this direction, and we find that almost 
 every house was built for a nobleman or person of distinction. 
 La Touche's house, which in later years was divided,*' stood in 
 
 * Belview, in the County Wicklow, the family seat of the La Touches. 
 
 " Many of the nobility built houses in Stephen's Green, which had a 
 most extensive acreage. Gandon says it was finer than any square in 
 London, and was a good deal larger than Lincoln's Inn Fields. There 
 was a handsome gravel-walk called the Beaux Walk, and another of 
 grass with a row of lime-trees which gave shade in summer, in the centre 
 a statue of George the Second, cast by Vanhost. 
 
 ^ 10, Merrion Square was divided in 1820, and the larger portion 
 bought by Sir Thomas Staples, a somewhat eminent lawyer, and 
 a well-known figure in Dublin society. He lived to the ripe old 
 age of ninety, and was a link with the previous century, coming 
 in touch with the rebellion of '98, which he well remembered, the 
 battle of Waterloo, in 1815, and the Crimean War, of our own times. 
 He was of a spare figure, courteous in manner, with an old-world polite- 
 
204 ^07ne Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 the centre of the block on the east side, and had a fine appear- 
 ance, the style being so much after the Adam pattern as to 
 give rise to the supposition that the celebrated architect had 
 found his way to Dublin. This, however, was not the case; 
 so far as can be ascertained, there is no work of Adam in 
 Dublin. Merrion Square was altogether planned and most of 
 the houses built by Eason, but Mr. La Touchers house may 
 have been designed by Sir William Chambers, whose designs 
 were used for Aldborough House, as well as for Marino. 
 
 The decorations of the interior of Mr. La Touche's house, 
 which with commendable taste have remained unaltered, are 
 worthy of notice. The chimney-pieces are in Wedgewood's 
 unique style, the ceilings are elegant, and the walls are painted 
 after the Etruscan pattern, so much used by Adam. It is a 
 noble house. Unfortunately, like all old houses in Dublin, 
 it has gone through a change of owners, and no longer belongs 
 to the La Touche family. They still hold, however, Belview, Co. 
 Wicklow, purchased by David La Touche, and one of the most 
 lovely spots in what is called the Switzerland of Ireland. 
 Like Powerscourt, it is surrounded with wooded glens through 
 which runs the bright and ever shining Dargle on its way to 
 the meeting of the waters. A Russian prince who made a 
 tour through Ireland visited Belview in 1833, and is loud in 
 praise of its beauties : — " Here is a summer-house," he says, 
 " which seems to hang in the air, and overlooks the Glen of the 
 Downs, a deep valley behind which two extinct volcanoes rear 
 their conical heads. The summer-house had just been covered 
 with purple heather ; a less happy thought," he adds, " was a 
 stuffed tiger lying as if alive in the ante-room." 
 
 ness but not much cordiality, except for his most intimate friends. 
 His wife had been a beauty of the Eegency days, and in her old age 
 preserved the soft complexion, bright eyes, and thoroughly Irish manner 
 which had caused George the Fourth to say she was " the handsomest 
 woman he had seen in Ireland.'' Sir Thomas Staples was the son of 
 Henrietta Molesworth, who escaped from the fire in which her mother, 
 Lady Molesworth, and so many of the household perished. She was 
 never able to walk, and the walks at Lissan, the Right Hon. John 
 Staples' country place near Dungannon, had to be widened to allow her 
 chair to pass. 10, Merrion Square is now occupied by Sir John Banks, 
 K.C.B., a distinguished physician. Sir John is most pojaular with a 
 numerous circle of friends both in London and Dublin. 
 
Elizabeth La Touc/ic, Coiuitess of Lanesboroiigh. 205 
 
 David La Touche was Privy Councillor, and no event of any 
 importance took place in the city in which he and his brother 
 had not a part. When the fine body of volunteers was formed, 
 he and his brother both were in command of a division. 
 
 The Right Honourable David left a family of one son 
 and five daughters. Of the daughers, Elizabeth, the eldest, 
 was the most beautiful, although all were handsome. There 
 is great sweetness and tenderness in the portrait of Lady 
 Lanesborough, a charm which would be likely to win many 
 hearts, and all that is known of Elizabeth La Touche, which 
 is not much, carries out what her face expresses. She was 
 only thirteen years of age when she made her first appear- 
 ance before the world of Dublin, taking the part of the Lady 
 in the Masque of Comus, performed at Rathfarnham Castle 
 before the Viceroy, Lord Townshend, of which mention has 
 been already made. The stage was the green sward, the 
 scenery the leafy woods. It must have been a charming 
 sight ; the performers were all children, but they were well 
 trained by Mr. Whyte, and personated the nymphs and dryads 
 with excellent effect, tripping their dainty measures to the 
 sound of Lord Mornington^s amateur band. 
 
 Years passed, and in 1774 we find Miss La Touche the 
 recognized belle of Dublin, with a train of admirers. She is 
 described by those who knew her as having a surprising 
 elegance, which marked every movement, while her features 
 had the most perfect symmetry. She danced divinely, and 
 her mind was well cultivated, her good sense preventing her 
 from indulging in any blue-stocking follies. She was, of 
 course, o. favourite pupil of Mr. Whyte's, who presented her, on 
 her birthday, January, 1794, with a volume of selected poems 
 from the best authors. She had just completed her eighteenth 
 year, two years later, when a wonderful entertainment was given 
 at Marlay ; it was wonderful for the reason that twelve of the 
 La Touche family took part in it, and that Henry G rattan wrote 
 the epilogue. Here is the bill, where, of course, we find 
 our friend Mr. Whyte and the young ladies who played as 
 children in the same Masque at Rathfarnham Castle. 
 
2o6 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 By Command of their Majesties, 
 
 OBERON AND TITANIA. 
 
 This present Monday, the 30th September, 1776, 
 will be presented the Masque or Com us. 
 
 Comus . 
 Elder brother 
 Yoimger brother 
 First Spirit. 
 Second Spirit 
 
 Mr. Whyte. 
 
 Miss Emilia La Touche. 
 Miss Harriette La Touche. 
 Miss Marianna La Touche. 
 Miss Anne La Touche. 
 
 Bacchants a7id Bacchantes. 
 Master La Touche, Master Jolm La Touche, 
 Master Georges La Touche, Master Dunn, 
 Miss White and Miss Maria La Touche. 
 Eiqihrosyne . . . Miss Dunn. 
 Patience Nymph . . Miss Maria Monroe. 
 Silence Nymph . . Miss Gertrude La Touche. 
 
 and the Lady, Miss La Touche. 
 S'weet Echo. Mrs. La Touche, echoed by Mrs. Dunn. 
 
 In Act 1st, a glee by Mr. Dillon, Mrs. La Touche and Mrs. Dunn. 
 
 End of Act 1st, a Lesson on the Harpsichord, Mrs. John La Touche. 
 
 End of Act 2nd, Hornpipe, by Misses Harriette and Emilia La Touche. 
 
 In Act 3rd. A Double Minuet by Misses Harriette, Emilia, Marianna 
 
 and Anne La Touche. With a reel by the same. 
 
 To conclude with a Country Dance by all the Characters. 
 
 An occasional Overture by Miss Quin. 
 
 Prologue by Mr. Whyte. 
 
 And tire Epilogue written by Henry Grattau, Esq., 
 
 and spoken by Miss La Touche. 
 
 It must be owned that this was rather a formidable 
 programme to work through^ but the beauty and grace of the 
 performance, together with the sweetness of the ladies' voices, 
 charmed the spectators. Grattan's epilogue is full of pretty 
 fancies, as in the lines, — 
 
 " But why choose Comus ? Comus won't go down ; 
 Milton, good creature, never knew the town. 
 Better a sentimental comedy 
 That leads souls conscientiously astray ; 
 Whereabout good fond rakes are always ranting 
 And fond frail women so divinely canting 
 And sweet, sad dialogues with feeling nice 
 Gives flavour and variety to vice ! '' 
 
EliDiibeth La Touchc, Countess oj Lanesborough. loy 
 
 These two last lines miglitliave been written by one of our own 
 dramatists, so smart is their point. In the lines beginning 
 " In all affairs of love and tender passion " 
 
 G rattan was supposed to have alluded to his own admiration, 
 it did not amount to passion, for the beautiful speaker of his 
 epilogue, who was not responsive to his suit. This, however, may- 
 have been mere idle gossip. Miss La Touche, however, was in 
 no hurry to leave the paternal roof. She had a large circle of 
 loving brothers and sisters, and adoring parents. She turned a 
 deaf ear to all her admirers until she had reached the advanced 
 age of twenty-six, considered, in those days of eai^ly marriages, 
 almost verging on old maidenism. Good advice, and the 
 prophecy that she would have to pick up the crooked stick 
 was constantly dinned into the beauty's ears, until she justified 
 herself by carrying off, in 1781, the yarti of the season, the 
 Earl of Lanesborough,' and so silenced the cackling of 
 malicious chaperones. 
 
 Her day of triumph was not a long one; she was enjoying 
 all the good gifts of life when the end came. While on a 
 visit to London, she caught the putrid fever, then raging, 
 and died at the early age of thirty-two. 
 
 Her sisters Harriet and Anne were by this time married. 
 Harriet, who was a beautiful brunette, to Sir Nicholas Cole- 
 hurst, Anne to Mr. Vesey of Lucan House. The names of 
 the two remaining Miss La Touches figure in the list of the 
 gaieties of Dublin, which waxed more and more furious as the 
 final crash approached. It was " a lightening before death 
 sort of business.'^ These days bore fruit later on, in the 
 
 ' Robert Herbert, Earl of Lanesborough, was the grandson of Lady 
 Belvedere (see page 6). The family mansion was in Kiklare Place, and was 
 decorated by Richardson, who likewise decorated Lord Hawarden's house 
 in Stephen's Green, now occupied byMr. DiggesLa Touche. There was also 
 a family mansion in London, situated where St. George's Hospital now 
 stands. Here lived the eccentric Lord Lanesborough, whose passion was 
 dancing ; hegaveup his time to the pursuit, and considered it a panacea for 
 all the ills of life ; so much so, that when Queen Anne lost her consort, 
 Prince George, he advised her to dispel her grief by dancing. Pope 
 has immortalized his Lordship's terpsichorean fancy in the lines : — 
 " Sober Lanesborough dancing 
 With the gout — " 
 
2o8 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 melancholy history of the encumbered estates court. Putting 
 aside the disastrous issue, the jinks and jousts of the Irish 
 capital make pleasant reading, as when the Marchioness of 
 Antrim gave a superb ball to the then Viceroy, Lord 
 "Westmoreland, the Grand Scots Ballet was danced by 
 a number of ladies of rank; amongst these we notice the 
 name of Miss La Touche ; this was probably the youngest 
 of the La Touche group of five, who later on married the 
 Knight of Kerry, and was '' lovely and beloved." 
 
 Mr. La Touche's son, Peter La Touche, married Charlotte, 
 daughter of Lord Hawarden, who was likewise one of the 
 many beauties of the day, and who retained to the great 
 age of ninety-one her beauty and her charm. The writer 
 remembers, some years ago, seeing the daughters of this lady. 
 Although they were then in middle life, they were still lovely 
 women, with a queenly presence unknown in the present 
 generation. Sir Joshua would have loved to paint them. 
 
 The La Touche beauty has been handed down through 
 several channels, Mrs. Ponsonby, the Hon. Mrs. Yorke and 
 Lady Molyneux being the most well-known beauties. 
 
 Before closing this record of a very interesting family, I 
 should mention another beauty who is in connection with the 
 La Touches. Miss Molly Henn, who has been already named, 
 was of the date of Dolly Monroe. Like Miss Martin, of Channel 
 Row, she was a favourite with the versifiers of the day, and 
 there is something very fresh and charming in the following : — 
 
 THE BIRD OF PARADISE. 
 So called from Mr. Henn's country aeat in Clare, still in possession of 
 the family.' 
 
 While hungry bards from garret high 
 To Myra's cheek or Stella's eye, 
 Their amorous sonnets jjen — 
 Unpractised in the arts of verse, 
 In simple strain let me rehearse 
 The praise of Molly Henn. 
 
 ' There have been intermarriages between the La Touche and the 
 Henn families. 
 
 The present Lord Hawarden was created Earl of Montalt a few years 
 ago. 
 
Elizabeth La Touches Coimtess of Lanesbor'ottgh. 209 
 
 It was, alas, the first of May, 
 I nevei' shall forget the day 
 I saw her first— and then 
 Such modest worth, such winning een, 
 I could do nothing else but gaze 
 On lovely Molly Henn. 
 
ANNE LUTTRELL, DUCHESS OF CUMBERLAND. 
 
 Whiling away an idle hour the other day in Mr. Graves' 
 dehghtful gallery in Pall Mall, I came upon the portrait of a 
 lady whose queenly grace, majestic presence and splendid 
 attire showed her to be of the hightest distinction. I never 
 saw a lovelier face ; the eyes long and languishing, the mouth 
 bewitching, the whole air alluring, and withal, a commanding, 
 haughty dame. As I looked and admired, I fell to thinking 
 of all the stir and the scandal this lady's beauty had 
 caused, the trouble and confusion, the family quarrels she 
 had occasioned; for this lady of exceeding beauty became 
 Duchess of Cumberland, and to her was due the Royal 
 Marriage Act of 1772. 
 
 The Luttrells, or Lottrells, or Lutterells, date back to the 
 time of the Crusaders ; there was a Lord Chancellor Lutterell 
 in 1236, and Sir Andrew Lutterelle in 1259. When James I. 
 visited Ireland, the Lutterell of the day accompanied him. 
 The King was full of his scheme for planting the country with 
 loyal English subjects, as a sort of defence against the dis- 
 loyalty of the natives. To Luttrell he gave a large grant of 
 land, four miles from Dublin, which was called Luttrellstown, 
 in return for which Luttrell was to give military service. 
 
 Like all settlers, Luttrell became ipso facto an Irishman, 
 intermarried with some of the best families, and attained 
 high distinction. In James II.'s reign, we find Simon Lut- 
 trell governor of Dublin, at the time of the battle of the 
 Boyne. An unswerving adherent of the Stuarts whether in 
 weal or woe, Simon retreated to Limerick with the remnant of 
 the Jacobite army, and managed to effect his escape to France, 
 and in 1688 he was attainted of high treason. Later, how- 
 ever, when the Treaty of Limerick was concluded, it was pro- 
 
Anne Luttrell, D^ichess of Cnmbcrland. 211 
 
 vided that if he returned iu eight months, the attainder 
 should be reversed, and his estates restored to him. A 
 secret agreement was, however, entered into between hia 
 brother Henry ' and General Ginkle, in consequence of which 
 Simon was never allowed to return, and the estates were given 
 to hia disloyal brother, Henry's treachery had a bad 
 end, for he was murdered by a band of ruffians in 1717. 
 Neither was he, nor the brother who succeeded him, popular. 
 O'Callaghan, the historian of the Irish Brigade, calls Henry 
 Luttrell a 'bad man, who was father to a bad man and grand- 
 father to a bad man. The second in this order of demerit 
 was Simon Luttrell, created Baron Irnham in 17G8, Viscount 
 Carhampton in 1771, and Earl Carhampton in 1773. This 
 favourite of fortune married the daughter and heiress of Sir 
 Nicholas Lawes, Governor of Jamaica, and had a family of five 
 sons and three daughters. These Luttrells were a wild, ex- 
 travagant, dissipated race ; handsome of person, charming of 
 manner, brilliant and reckless. The Earl too had a high spirit, 
 a mind cast in an original mould, and was an indefatigable 
 votary of pleasure. 
 
 Strange stories were told of the revels at Luttrellstown, of 
 extraordinary wagers, reckless gambling, and fierce quarrels 
 between father and sons. The eldest. Colonel Luttrell, a dis- 
 tinguished officer, was of even a more combative tempera- 
 ment than his father." He was of wild habits, with a reckless 
 
 ' Henry Luttrell was suspected of having carried on secret negotia- 
 tions with an agent of General Ginkle's concerning the surrender of 
 Limerick, as he belonged to the party who were for coming to tei'ms 
 with the besiegers. Some of the correspondence fell into TyrconneirB 
 hands; the result was Luttrell's arrest and trial by court-martial. He 
 would have beeu executed, but the surrender of Limerick saved his 
 life. He was always looked upon by the Catholics as having betrayed 
 the King, and being rewarded for the service by the grant of his brother'.s 
 lands. 
 
 2 The Earl, who had a fierce temper, quarrelled with his eldest son, 
 and the quarrel had to be settled by a lawsuit. Both parties conductetl 
 each his own suit in a manner remarkable for its ability. The son, how- 
 ever, lost. Wraxall knew the first Earl, and describes him in his old 
 age as active, and of a pleasing figure and high spirit, with an un- 
 cultivated, albeit powerful, mind, and an indefatigable thirst for pleasure. 
 He relates a humorous trait of him. When he was dangerously ill in 
 Bruton Street, Berkeley Square, the report that he was actually dead was 
 p 2 
 
212 Some Celebrated Irish BeatUies of Last Century. 
 
 nature, to whicli fear was unknown. He was put forward by 
 the Court party to contest Middlesex against Wilkes : this 
 being considered so rash and dangerous an act, that policies of 
 insurance on his life were opened at Lloyd's Coffee House, but 
 he escaped uninjured. He was a first-rate shot, and to fight 
 a duel with him was to court death, while his reputation, as 
 regards honour, was of the worst possible. Junius, in his 
 famous letters, draws his picture. " There is in this young 
 man," he writes, " a strain which for its singularity I cannot 
 but admire ; he has discovered a new line in human character, 
 and has disgraced even the name of Luttrell." 
 
 Of the daughters, Elizabeth, Anne, and Lucy, Elizabeth was 
 in character akin to her brother. Not that she possessed his 
 handsome person or attractive manners. Coarse and plain 
 was Elizabeth, unprincipled and unladylike, with a habit of 
 swearing, and a passion for cards and gambling of all kinds. 
 Lucy was pretty, and nothing much is said of her but that she 
 married Captain Moriarty. Anne was cast in a different 
 mould from her sisters ; nature being given to these freaks 
 now and again. No doubt she had a touch of the high spirit of 
 the Luttrells, or else she would not have played her part in life 
 as she did, but it was tempered by other qualities. Her beauty 
 was unsurpassed, in an age when beauty was of its highest 
 order. It was of a refined type, and was joined to a rare gift 
 of fascination impossible to resist, old and young falling within 
 its spell. These good gifts were in company with an excel- 
 lent understanding, which never allowed her to lose sight of 
 prudence, or to venture beyond the limits of propriety. It 
 does not seem that she was of a nature likely to be carried 
 
 carried to Carlton House. The Prince of Wales, who was then Eegent, 
 1812, was at table with some boon companions, and being in a generons 
 mood, gave way the Earl's regiment to one of the company, a general 
 officer. When the news reached Lord Carhampton, he sent a friend, 
 who was empowered to tell the Prince that so far from being a dead man, 
 his Lordship hoped to recover his present illness, and therefore humbly 
 entreated he might be allowed to retain command of his regiment ; 
 humorously adding, that His Royal Highness might be assured he would 
 give special directions to his attendants, not to lose a moment, after it 
 was ascertained that he was really dead, in conveying the news to 
 Carlton House. 
 
Anne LiUtrell, Duchess of Cumberland. 213 
 
 away by any whirlwind of passion, ambition ratlier than love 
 being the master passion of her soul. 
 
 She had married, when a mere girl, Mr. Christopher 
 Horton, a sporting squire of whom little has been said 
 beyond that he was owner of Catton Park, Derbyshire. 
 After a few years of marriage he died, leaving his widow a 
 moderate provision. She was twenty-four, extremely pretty, 
 with bewitching eyes, which she could animate to enchantment 
 if she pleased ; her coquetry was so active, so varied, and yet 
 so habitual, that it was difficult not to see through it, and yet 
 as difficult to resist it. She had likewise her accomplishments, 
 dancing divinely being one of them. Since the days of Herod 
 downwards, there is no art which more completely subjugates 
 the masculine mind than the beautiful art of dancing. In the 
 time of our great grandmothers, there was ample opportunity 
 for displaying any proficiency a lady might have attained. 
 The minuet with its many steps, its graceful curtseys, oeillades 
 and promenades, was a history of courtship, from the first 
 attack to the final surrender. In the hands of a past 
 mistress in the fine art of coquetry like Mrs. Horton, it could 
 be made an instrument for completing her conquest over 
 any individual of sufficient importance to meet her ambitious 
 views. 
 
 Chance, the godfather of those who know how to make use 
 of an opportunity, threw in Mrs. Horton's way the Duke of 
 Cumberland, the king's brother. The Duke was the dullest 
 of the royal brothers, none of them being remarkable for 
 brilliancy. He was of a weak, unstable character, and 
 Wraxall says, " limited as his faculties were, his manners 
 rendered them apparently meaner than they would otherwise 
 have been esteemed." This was no doubt due to the educa- 
 tion the royal princes had received, which unfitted them for 
 the positions they were destined to fill. The King sufiered 
 likewise from this want of proper training, which placed him 
 always at a disadvantage. " If he had possessed the graces 
 of the Prince of Wales, he would have impressed all who 
 approached him with a conviction of the ability which he was 
 really possessed of ; Uu character, however, always commanded 
 
2 14 ^ome Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 respect, whereas the Duke of Cumberland's feeble nature led 
 him to become the prey of all manner of designing persons, 
 ■while the unfortunate connections he formed, and the scandal 
 consequent upon such proceedings as Lord Grosvenor's action 
 foi" divorce, seriously injured the Duke's reputation with the 
 nation ; for although in general tolerant to youthful follies, 
 the English people expect royalty to set an example of public 
 morality/' ' 
 
 The Duke met Mrs. Horton while under the cloud of this 
 late scandal. He was well pleased to distract his mind from 
 the consequent annoyance by the pursuit of a new object of 
 admiration. He was now, however, in the toils of a clever, 
 ambitious woman, perfectly mistress of herself, and quick to 
 seize every advantage a favourable chance presented. The 
 young prince was easily captivated by the wily widow's 
 fascinations, her divine dancing, her wit and Irish repartee, 
 her quarter-of-a-yard eyelashes, her varied coquetries and 
 ever-changing moods. She was everything by turns and 
 nothing long. Through all this gamut of tricks she never 
 for one moment lost sight of her end, and although it may 
 be fairly doubted that the duke had ever intended to make 
 her his wife, she so clearly proved to him that she would 
 listen to no other proposals that, sooner than lose her, he 
 eloped with her to Calais, where, on October 2nd, 1771, they 
 were married, with all due legal forms carefully executed. 
 No loophole was left through which the I'oyal captive could 
 wriggle, and so escape the responsibility of his action.^ For 
 a time the marriage was kept secret. After a proper interval, 
 
 ' " I have been shocked," writes Mrs. Delany to Miss Dewes, " read- 
 ing Lady Grosvenor and the Duke of Cumberland's letters. Such folly 
 and wickedness, and withal so vulgar ; and as to the sister at St. James's 
 (Miss Vernon, one of the maids of honour) she makes a pitiable figure." 
 There was also the other awkward affair of Olive Wilmot, whose 
 daughter many years after produced certificates of a marriage between 
 her mother and the Duke, four years before he married Mrs. Horton. 
 These, however, were found to be forgeries, and the case collapsed. In 
 addition to the vulgarity and wickedness of the correspondence of the 
 Duke with Lady Grosvenor, there was also a total lack of even the 
 commonest rudiments of education ; they were ill-spelt and worse 
 written. 
 
 - The witness to the marriage was Elizabeth Luttrell, the Duchess's 
 elder sister. 
 
Anne Luilrell, Duchess of Cumberland. 215 
 
 given to the joys of happy love, the duchess began to tire of 
 privacy, and to sigh for the regal state which was hers by 
 right of her husband's rank. Like Elsa in " Lohengrin " she 
 could not let well alone, and was for ever importuning the 
 duke to set her right before the world. If all she was to have 
 gained by the marriage was the Duke without the state, the 
 bargain, from her point of view, would have been a poor one. 
 For all his royal blood and coronet she must have had a bad timo 
 with her uncouth princeling, whose manners were akin to 
 those of a rustic country squire. Those who knew him in the 
 flesh have left many pictures of his far from regal habits. 
 He was, however, submissive to his haughty wife's mandate, 
 and, tired of her constant complainings that she was no better 
 than " a virtuous mistress,'^ he screwed up his courage to the 
 sticking-point, and crossed over to England for the purpose 
 of acquainting the king that he was married. The moment 
 chosen for the confession was singularly inopportune. The 
 Priucess Dowager had been seized with her last illness ; 
 although she had been anything but an affectionate mother 
 the king was a most exemplary son. His feelings were 
 excited, and he naturally felt disgusted when he found the 
 errand upon which his brother had come. It was while they 
 were walking together in the garden that the Duke awkwardly 
 thrust a letter into the King's hand. It contained a notice of 
 the wedding. The King quietly put it into his pocket, saying 
 carelessly, " I suppose I need not read this now ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir,^' answered the Duke, "you must." 
 
 The King had no sooner done so than he burst into a rage : 
 " You fool ! you blockhead ! you villain ! " and he then told 
 him plainly, " That woman shall never be a royal duchess — 
 she shall never be anything." 
 
 The poor Duke, abashed, asked humbly what he should do 
 next. 
 
 '' Go abroad," said the irate monarch, " until I can deter- 
 mine what to do." 
 
 The Duke therefore returned to Calais ; from which place 
 he wrote, under his bride's direction, that she was expecting 
 her confinement, and that no time was to be lost in estab- 
 
2i6 Some Celebrated Irish BcmUics of Last Century. 
 
 lishing the marriage. The answer to this was the announce- 
 ment of the King's intention to guard his own family from 
 
 H.R.H. THE DUCHESS Of CUMBERLAND AND STRATHERN, 
 
 (Anne Luttrell.) 
 
 similar alliances by introducing in the following session an 
 Act which would render them invalid. This foreshadowing 
 of the Royal Marriage Act of February, 1772, brought the 
 pair of culprits back to London, where they were objects of 
 
Anne LuUreli, Duchess of Cwnberland. 1 1 7 
 
 much curiosity and interest. The floodgates of gossip were 
 let loose ; ou their first arrival they had the bad taste to instal 
 themselves at Cumberland Lodge, while the Court was at 
 Windsor, and were well snubbed for their indiscretion. 
 " ife," says Walpole, " is privately forbidden the Court — 
 for of she there is no question ; Lord Hertford is told to tell 
 cveryhody as a secret, which they are desired to tell everybody, 
 that there is 710 road between Cumberland House and 
 Windsor Castle." On the other hand, Mrs. Delany hears the 
 on dit that the Duchess is to have four ladies-in-waiting (one 
 of them being a cook's daughter), but she adds that for her 
 part she thinks her royal highness has acted most discreetly, 
 and has kept up a dignity equal to any princess of romance, 
 for she has kept her lover an humble suppliant to the last 
 moment. Horace Walpole writes more excitedly than is his wont 
 to his crony at Florence, as to the madly absurd conduct of the 
 Duke. He draws a comparison between this " mad boy " 
 and the Duke of Gloucester, who was all prudence and 
 amiability ; then he gives Sir Horace a portrait of the new 
 "Princess of the blood — extremely pretty, although not 
 handsome ; very well made, with the most amorous eyes in 
 the world, and eyelashes a yard long. Coquette beyond 
 measure, artful as Cleopatra, and completely mistress of her 
 passions and projects — indeed, eyelashes three-quarters of a 
 yard shorter would have served to conquer such a head as 
 she has turned.''^ This last remark would seem pointed by 
 the jealousy that Walpole always entertained towards the 
 Duchess of Cumberland for occupying a higher position than 
 did his niece, who was suh rosa the wife of the Duke of 
 Gloucester, and consequently implicated in the same disgrace. 
 He alludes to this in this same letter : " I need not hint to 
 you how unfortunate an event this is at the present moment, 
 and how it clashes with the situation of another person.'^ ' 
 
 ' Never imagining thf :this letter to his intimate friend would appear 
 in evidence against his ick of truth, we find Walpole declaring to Lady 
 Castletown, and all his friends, that he knew nothing of Lady Walde- 
 grave's marriage until it became public. All through this curious 
 history, what is most amusing is the trimming of Walpole — his 
 fears and anxiety lest he should compromise himself in any way with 
 
2 1 8 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 The Eoyal Marriage Bill came before the House of 
 Commons on February 20th, 1772, when Lord Rochfort and 
 Lord North delivered the following message from the 
 King :— 
 
 " His Majesty, being desirous from paternal affection for 
 his own family J and anxious concern for the future welfare of 
 his people, and the honour and dignity of the Crown, that 
 the right of approving all marriages in the royal family 
 (which ever has belonged to the kings of this realm) as a matter 
 of public concern, may be made effectual ; recommends to 
 both Houses of Parliament to take into serious consideration 
 whether it may not be wise and expedient to supply the 
 defect of the law now in being, and by some new provision 
 more effectually to guard the descendants of his late Majesty, 
 George II., from marrying without the approbation of his 
 Majesty, his heirs and successors, first had and obtained/' 
 
 The Bill, which was received with the utmost coldness by 
 both Houses, raised a storm outside Parliament. The Church 
 took umbrage at the power which would lie in the King's 
 hands as to keeping his sons unmarried, this enforced celibacy 
 possibly leading to scandals. On all sides it was unpopular 
 in the highest degree. Ministers took alarm at the general 
 excitement, and insisted upon modifying some of the provisions. 
 They brought it in next day with a seeming softening but 
 without any real difference. The Act was made binding only 
 until the Princes had attained twenty-five years of age. 
 This amendment did not serve any useful purpose. It was 
 easy to see that it was pointed at the King's brothers, as 
 none of his sons were marriageable. 
 
 The battle continued to rage furiously. The King, aided 
 by the Queen, made the Bill a personal matter. It was given 
 out by the Court circle that anyone who dissented from it 
 would get a cold shoulder at Court. This was enough ; 
 "Adieu qualms, fears and care of posterity." Zeal, money, 
 influence of all sorts went to work, with the result that the 
 Royal Marriage Bill passed the Lords on the 3rd March, 
 
 the Kiug, \jy Lis siding with the young couple, and jet his ill-concealed 
 pleasure at having such an exalted person for a near relation. 
 
Anne Luttrell, Duchess of Cumberland. 219 
 
 1772, and was sent down to tlie Commons, where, after the 
 most unseemly scenes, and some splendid oratory from 
 Burke, Charles Fox, and Wedderburn, it finally passed into 
 law. 
 
 The Duke of Cumberland was present the first day of the 
 debate. Not a soul except the Duke of Richmond spoke to 
 him. He had notes in his hand, which he seemed to con over 
 as if intending to speak. The Duke of Richmond asked him 
 if he had any objection to being named in the debate. He 
 said '' No,^' and added that he had come to satisfy himself 
 whether there was any idea of setting aside his marriage ; if 
 there were, he proposed to throw himself upon the justice of 
 the House. But as there was no mention of this, he asked 
 Richmond if he had not better retire, and so went away, and 
 came no more to the discussion. 
 
 " The Royal Marriage Bill is at last finislied,'^ writes Walpolo, 
 on March the 27th, " after taking up nearly a hundred hours 
 in the House of Commons : it was near being wrecked at last, 
 being carried but by a majority of eighteen, while ten more who 
 would have been against it were accidentally shut out, not ex- 
 pecting a division so soon. Never was a Bill that gave such 
 deep offence, and from mere speculation. The people did not 
 interfere, nor was it a matter of popularity to oppose it. Lord 
 Mansfield bears all the odium, and deservedly, for no 
 man else had a hand in drawing it. Lord North, though dis- 
 liking it, supported it like a man, the rest treacherously con- 
 demning it, voting for it, and wishing it might miscarry." 
 
 "This measure, more than any other,^' says Mr. Lecky, 
 '^ divided opinion in the country. The object was to prevent 
 the great dangers which might arise from clandestine or im- 
 proper marriages in the royal family ; it was possible in con- 
 sequence of such alliances, that the title of successor to the 
 throne might become a matter of dispute, and it was very 
 possible that connections might be formed, and disgraceful 
 elements introduced into the royal family, which would en- 
 danger the authority of the monarchy and lower its prestige." 
 Its immediate result was to bring another offender on the 
 scene. The Duke of Gloucester, who was abroad for his 
 
2 20 So?ne Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 health; rushed home to acquaint the King with the fact of Ms 
 marriage to Lady Waldegrave, which had taken place six 
 years previously. The poor King was overwhelmed by this 
 new blow, it was said that he cried all night. Still he refused 
 to see the Duke or to make any difference in his case^ although 
 he was his favourite brother. 
 
 We have the whole scene laid before us by the graphic pen 
 of Horace Walpole, in his letters to his confidential friend at 
 Florence : — 
 
 ''June, 1772. 
 
 " On the very evening of his return, the Duke of Gloucester 
 allowed my niece to acquaint her father that they have been 
 married since 176G. Lady Waldegrave does not take the 
 royal title immediately, which I think very modest.^ He adds. 
 
 ' The following is Lady Waldegrave's letter to her father, Sir Edward 
 Walpole : — 
 
 '■ My dear and ever honoubed sir, 
 
 "You cannot easily imagine how every past affliction has been increased 
 to me by not being at liberty to make you quite easy. The duty to a 
 husband being superior to that we owe a father, I hope will plead my 
 pardon; and that instead of blaming my past reserve, you will think it 
 commendable. 
 
 " When the Duke of Gloucester married me, which was in September, 
 1766, I promised him upon no consideration in the world to own it even 
 to you without his permission, which permission I never had until yester- 
 day, when he arrived here in much better health, and looked better than I 
 ever saw him ; yet, as you may suppose, much hurt at all that has 
 passed in his absence, so much so, that I have had great difficulty to 
 prevail upon him to let things as much as possible remain as they are. 
 To secure my character without injuring his is the utmost of my wishes, 
 and I daresay that you and all my relations will agree with me that I 
 shall be much hapjjier to be called Lady Waldegrave, and respected as 
 the Duchess of Gloucester, than to feel myself the cause of his leading 
 such a life as his brother (the Duke of Cumberland) does, in order for 
 me to be called Your Eoyal Highness. I am prepared for the sort of 
 abuse the newspapers will be full of. Very few people will believe that 
 a woman will refuse to be called Princess if it is in her power. To have 
 the fyower is my pride, and using it iu some measure pays the debt 1 owe 
 the Duke for the honour he has done me. All I wish of my relations 
 is that they will show the world they are satisfied with my conduct, yet 
 seem to disguise their reasons. If ever I am fortunate enough to be 
 called the Duchess of Gloucester, there is an end almost of all the 
 comforts I now enjoy, which if things go on as they now do, are many." 
 
 To a close observer it would seem that towards the end of this other- 
 wise delightful letter, the lady overshoots the mark a little. She protests, 
 in fact, too much. 
 
Anne Luttrcll^ Duchess of Cumberland. 22 r 
 
 that it is a great satisfaction that her character is invulnerable, 
 and it gives me much more pleasure that she has preserved her 
 honour, than that she has obtained this great honour, which 
 does not dazzle me. . /' 
 Again he writes : — 
 
 "There is an end of suppressing, palliating or dis- 
 believing. Tlie marriage — my niece's marriage — is formally 
 notified to the King by the Duke of Gloucester. Last Wednes- 
 day I received a letter signed ' Maria Gloucester,' acquainting 
 me that the declai'ation had been made and received by 
 his Majesty with grief, tenderness and justice. I say 
 justice, tout oncle as I am, for it would have been very unjust 
 to the Duke of Cumberland to have made any other distinction 
 between two brothers equally in fault, than what affection 
 without overt acts cannot help making. This all implies that 
 the Duke of Gloucester must undergo the same prohibition as 
 his brother did, which I am told is to be the case, though the 
 step is not yet taken." 
 
 The Duchess of Gloucester affected the most exaggerated 
 humility, declaring that her only desire in marrying the 
 Duke was to secure her character without injuring his, and 
 that she would be much happier to be ccdled Lady Walde- 
 grave, and to be respected as the Duchess of Gloucester, than 
 to feel herself the cause of his leading such a life as his brother 
 (the Duke of Cumberland) " does, in order for her to be called 
 Your Royal Highness." 
 
 All these protestations did not deceive the cynic of Straw- 
 berry Hill. He knew woman's nature too well to believe in 
 this mock "self-denial.''^ His opinion to his confidential 
 friend is that the Duchess's prevailing passion, ambition, would 
 not be long smothered ; nor was it.' 
 
 ' " My niece the Duchess," he says, " has not written in the same 
 strain of self-denial to her sister Dysart. To her she recounts the 
 magnificence of the presents the Duke had given her ; and many other 
 expressions show me that her ambition, which is her prevailing passion, 
 would not be long smothered." Nor was it. She presently induced the 
 Duke_ to hold a levee, which, to use her own expressiou, he had never 
 practised. ^_ It was much crowded, and was ill-considered, as it irritated 
 both the King and Queen, who were jealous o£ their own prerogatives. 
 
2 22 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 Meantime our Luttrell Duchess was carrying things with 
 her usual airy grace. Although under the ban of the royal 
 displeasure, she went everywhere, and gave herself royal airs. 
 Sir Joshua, who was painting her portrait, was mightily 
 diverted by her condescension. The strangely-contrasted pair 
 visited his studio in the April of this year. The painter's 
 biographer records the manner in which the Duke behaved ; 
 like a big schoolboy, he grew weary of the interview, and took 
 to knocking about the pictures that stood upon the easels and 
 swearing to himself. The Duchess insisted he should say 
 something to the painter about her portrait, which was begun ; 
 after staring for some time at the beautiful face just trans- 
 ferred to the canvas, he made the sapient remark, " What — 
 eh! — so you begin with the head, do you?"' This was 
 only a sample of his usual gaucherie. 
 
 The position of the royal pair was singularly unpleasant. 
 " Ke was privately forbidden the Court, for of s/ie there was no 
 question. They were invited to none of the Court festivities, 
 and when there was an installation of the Knights of the Bath, 
 the Duke received a hint not to occupy his stall in St. George's 
 Chapel." In all this we can trace the influence of Queen 
 Charlotte. Excellent as she was, she had her womanly weak- 
 nesses, and would know how to wound her beautiful sister-in- 
 law in her sorest point. 
 
 Not being recognized, nor allowed to enjoy any state or 
 privilege of rank, must have been a cruel mortification to the 
 haughty Luttrell. She thought it best to withdraw herself 
 for a time from public notice, at least until the royal 
 authentication had been given to the marriage, which was 
 still delayed, on account of the imbroglio made by the Duke of 
 Gloucester having concealed his for so many years. Bishop 
 Norton, who had married him and Lady Waldegrave, was 
 dead, and it now appeared there had been no witnesses," which 
 
 ' Another story told of the Duke was his meeting Gibbon the 
 historian, and his accosting him with " How d'ye do, what, at the old 
 trade ? aye, always scribble, scribble ! " 
 
 -' Horace Walpole says : — '' When I heard there were no witnesses 
 I started with horror. It appears that the Duke was so afraid of her 
 
Anne Luttrell^ Dtichess of Cumberland. 223 
 
 raised a question of illegality. As all this would take time to 
 examine, the Cumberlands went abroad. On their arrival at 
 Calais, they were received, to her extreme pleasure, with regal 
 honours, and went in state to the theatre. Next morning a 
 deputation waited upon the royal pair with felicitations. The 
 exchequer must have been low, for in return for these honours 
 the deputation received only three guineas. In revenge for 
 this shabby guerdon they despatched a dirty candle-snuffer 
 with a bouquet to the Princess, and later sent another 
 messenger to St. Omer to demand more money. After this 
 rather unpleasant episode, the Duke and Duchess continued 
 their journey to Italy. The different Courts were much 
 embarrassed by their arrival, as the dilemma was how to 
 receive them ; everywhere the English ambassador having 
 orders to allow them no royal precedence. This all seems 
 like petty persecution, and it was no wonder the Duchess 
 resented the treatment she received. Honours were later on 
 paid to them, and according to Walpole the Duchesses visions 
 of pride and folly touched upon madness. She came home, 
 in May, 1774, resolved to assert her dignity. Both marriages 
 had now been authenticated. There had been much question 
 as to the legality of the Duke of Gloucester's, and some talk 
 of his being married over again to Lady Waldegrave, which 
 should be done speedily, as the Duchess was expecting her 
 confinement. 
 
 The Duke of Gloucester's state of mind in regard to the 
 whole affair brought on a fit of illness. He was harassed with 
 anxiety, especially on account of the coming event. In 
 presence of the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of 
 Exeter he made a solemn declaration of his being " married 
 to Lady Waldegrave, at her house in Pall Mall, on September 
 6th, 1776, by her own chaplain, Dr. Norton, now dead, but 
 there were no witnesses present.'' He added, " Your lordships 
 remember I was at the point of death in Florence. At that 
 awful moment I called for Colonel Rainsford ; I told him I 
 was married. I then enjoined him, on his duty to a dying 
 
 vanity that he would allow no witnesses who conld prove to the 
 marriage." 
 
2 24 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 master, as soon as he should have closed my eyes, to hasten to 
 England, and repair to the King, and declare my marriage, 
 and say that my last request was that his Majesty would allow 
 a small pittance to the widow of his favourite brother. My 
 lords. Colonel Rainsford took notes of what I said : he has them 
 in his pocket, and shall read them." 
 
 All this shows the Duke in a most fav curable light as an 
 honourable man ; so, too, with his rushing off late at night to 
 the Archbishop of Canterbury, who had the Bishop of London 
 with him. Both were retiring when the excited Duke arrived, 
 and insisted that both should hear him. He enjoined them 
 by their duty to their country to go that moment to the 
 King and tell him if he had still any doubts he should remove 
 them. The two prelates pleaded that they would not intrude 
 on his Majesty at that hour; '' Ye shall not lay your heads on 
 your pillows till ye have seen him," was the reply of the 
 Prince. 
 
 The Bishops had to go, and soon returned with a reply that 
 though satisfied, he would consent to the Duke's being married 
 over again if he chose it. At last, however, he agreed to make 
 no further difficulties, and his full consent was given just in 
 time, for the Duchess was confined next day in presence of 
 the officers of state and with all formalities due to her rank. 
 
 It seems truly absurd that, having accorded so much, their 
 Majesties should have continued to treat the wives of the 
 royal Dukes as if they were mistresses ; but so it was, the 
 gates of the Court circle were I'igidly shut in their faces. The 
 servile courtiers followed the lead of the Court, it being fully 
 understood that those who were friends with the culprits 
 were not hien vue. The Duchess of Cumberland fared no 
 better, if anything worse, than her Highness of Gloucester. 
 Her weekly receptions, like those given by the Duchess, 
 were not attended. Fifty persons came to the first, but when 
 it appeared that exclusion from St. James's was sure to follow 
 those who visited either of the ostracized Duchesses, not a man 
 or woman of position came either to Gloucester House or Pall 
 Mall.^ 
 
 The Duchess of Gloucester, who felt deei)Iy the manner in which 
 
Anne L^Uti'cll, Duchess of Cnmberland. 225 
 
 The situation was accentuated by tlie quarrels between the 
 two Duchesses. It would seem natural that being as it were 
 in the same boat, they would have made common cause 
 against the Court. The Duchess of Cumberland was well in- 
 clined, but her overtures were rejected by her sister Gloucester, 
 who said, " No, I could not smell at the same nosegay with 
 her in public." ' Maria of Gloucester, although she could 
 quote fi'om the Behearsal, was not remarkable for good sense. 
 She would have acted more wisely in forming a defensive 
 alliance. The Duke of Cumberland was altogether governed 
 by his wife's family, of whom he stood much in awe. His love 
 for his beautiful Duchess had chauged into fear. The honey- 
 moon which, Walpole said, had waned to half a moon before 
 they left England, had not now a ray of warmth ; but he was 
 too weak in mind to oppose her strong will, backed as she 
 was by her own family. Elizabeth Luttrell, an incubus 
 more terrible than any mother-in-law, made her home with 
 her sister, and Temple Luttrell, a clever rising politician, was 
 always at hand. The feeble Duke confided to Greuville that 
 he heartily repented what he had done. It was too late, how- 
 ever. He was altogether governed by these et^prits forts, and 
 had to obey their orders in raising a standard of opposition 
 against the King. Paragraphs appeared every day in the 
 papers as if on behalf of the Duke of Gloucester, which greatly 
 incensed the King against Jmn ; this was the revenge taken 
 by the Duchess for the rejection of her overtures. 
 
 Later she and her husband took a fiendish method of retali- 
 ating on the King and Queen. When the Prince of Wales had 
 come almost to man's estate, the Duchess, who was then in the 
 very zenith of a beauty which had increased by maturity, so 
 wove her toils round the heir apparent, as to obtain a com- 
 
 society treated her, tried to disarm her enemies by a show of humility. 
 She took no royal honours, and would not allow any one to kiss her 
 hand. 
 
 ^ This referred to a proposal on the part of the Duchess of Cumber- 
 land that the four victims of royal persecution should appear at the 
 opera iu one box. Walpole, while praising the honesty of his niece's 
 character, condemns her folly in quarrelling as she did with the Duchess 
 of Cumberland. 
 
22 6 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 plete influence over liim.' He almost lived at Cumberland 
 House. Everything was done to attract him ; to pander to 
 his taste for gambling, the Duke set up a faro table, and became 
 the prompter of his nephew's excesses, which he fostered and 
 encouraged. With the same object of annoying the King, his 
 brother, the Duke would insolently ignore him, and present 
 himself at the Court balls without invitation. The Duchess 
 gave a ball in the Prince's honour, which the King forbade the 
 Prince's household to attend. The Duke then invited them to 
 a dinner to indemnify them, but the King again interfered. 
 This was all petty tyranny, and very unwise on the part of the 
 King and Queen, as the Prince was too old to brook interference 
 with his pleasures. If Walpole is to be believed, the conduct 
 of the Duke was most indecent ; he and the Prince would 
 spend nights in the most riotous manner, drinking until the 
 Prince was not able to stand.- There were also stories of the 
 
 * The intimacy first began at Brighthelmstone, in 1782. The Duke 
 then occupied a small old-fashioned house on the very edge of the sea, 
 belonging to Mr. Wyndham. The Prince went on a visit to him. The 
 first effect of this intimacy was a volte-face on the part of Society. The 
 Duchess's levees were crowded with all the rank, fashion and beauty of 
 London. 
 
 - An instance of this occurred within a few weeks after the Prince 
 was declared to have attained his majority. Lord Chesterfield in- 
 vited his Royal Highness and the Duke to an entertainment at his 
 house on Blackheath. Several persons were there, and being all of 
 them hon vivants, the bottle circulated so rapidly as to produce 
 scenes of rather a Iragi-comic character. Among other frolics, one 
 of the company, at breaking up, let loose a furious mastiff, which 
 was (generally kept chained for fear of mischief. The dog, on gaining 
 his liberty, attacked one of the footmen, and tore his right arm in 
 a dreadful manner ; then the animal sprang at a fiue horse, which was 
 very nearly strangled ; and now such an uproar arose as threw the 
 whole place into confusion. The gentlemen, being heightened by wine, 
 drew up in a circle, and commenced war upon the dog ; but Towser kept 
 them at defiance, and made not a few of them repent their temerity. At 
 the close of the fray, the noble host slipped down a flight of steps, and 
 nearly fractured his skull. The contest then terminated, the young 
 Prince jumped into his phaeton, and, falling fast asleep, left the reins to 
 his uncle, who, as good luck would have it, brought him safe to town. 
 His Majesty was much concerned when he heard of this frolic ; for, 
 as he was strictly temperate and regular in his own habits, he could not 
 endure the least deviation from sobriety and decorum in any of his 
 family. But though he reproved bis brother for the indiscretion he 
 had committed, the remonstrance was thrown away upon the Duke, who 
 forgot his promises as soon as he had made them. 
 
Anne Litttrell, Duchess of Cumberla^id. 227 
 
 two insulting the King by talking within earshot of him in the 
 grossest terms. One cannot but pity the poor harassed King, 
 whose mind was growing feebler every day, and unable to 
 deal with his heartless brother and son. When the Queen 
 urged him to forbid their having such close intercourse, he 
 said sadly, it was no use forbidding when he would not be 
 obeyed. The Duke, on the other hand, made no secret that he 
 should use his influence over the Prince to intimidate the 
 Court into receiving the Duchess, and in this he succeeded. 
 Although it was not a public recognition, the Duchess was 
 constantly with the royal family ; it has been even whispered 
 that her influence over the King grew to be equal to her power 
 over the Prince, Few men could resist the spell of her fasci- 
 nations. " Her personal charms," says Wraxall, " allowing 
 for the injury they had sustained from time, justified the 
 admiration they still excited. No woman of her time per- 
 formed the honoui's of her drawing-room with such grace, 
 aflability, and dignity." Tout vlent a qui suit aftendre, but it 
 must have been a triumph dear to the Duchess's heart to find 
 herself admitted to the family circle from which she had been 
 so rigorously excluded. In 1782 she formed one of a group, 
 which included the Princess Royal and several duchesses, in a 
 picture painted by Sherwin, representing the daughter of 
 Pharaoh finding Moses amongst the bulrushes. To these 
 violent delights succeeded violent endings. The capricious 
 Prince took offence at his uncle's too great familiarity ; he did 
 not care to be slapped on the back, and called " Taffy." A 
 coolness ensued between the boon companions which induced 
 the Cumberlands to go abroad; they were in Rome in 1786,' 
 but on their return, the breach between them and their 
 royal nephew was made up, and the old terms of inti- 
 macy renewed. It was said that a private passage was 
 constructed between Carlton House and the Duke's garden in 
 Pall Mall, so that assistance could be given to the Prince in 
 some of his not too creditable escapades. In 1788, when the 
 king had his first serious attack, the Duke of Cumberland 
 
 ' They visited Naples, and were entertained by Sir William Hamilton. 
 Q 2 
 
228 Some Celebi'ated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 agitated that a regency should at once be established, and 
 that the power should be in the Prince of Wales's hands. In 
 all this we can trace the influence of his wife, who still desired 
 to revenge the slights Queen Charlotte had inflicted. In 1790, 
 however, much of her glory was shorn ; the Duke, who, like his 
 brother of Gloucester, had a weak habit of body, fell ill in the 
 autumn and died, at the comparatively early age of forty-five. 
 The Duchess^who survived him twenty years, dying in 1810 — 
 was not much more heard of in the world where she once 
 made such a stir. The younger generation were grown up, 
 and, as always, the elders had to give way. In 1796 she sold 
 her house in Pall Mall and went to reside at Sheen.' 
 
 There are still a few words to be said about her family. 
 Her sister Elizabeth (called in derision the Princess Elizabeth), 
 a coarse, unprincipled woman, was devoured by a love of play, 
 which brought her to a tragical end. Sir R. Heron, in his 
 " Notes," says, " She played so high, and cheated so shamefully, 
 that on the death of the Duchess, having no one to protect her, 
 she was thrown into jail. Here she gave a hairdresser 50Z. to 
 marry her, and thus assume her debts ; on which, according 
 to the then state of the law, she obtained her discharge. She 
 then went to Germany, where, being convicted of picking 
 pockets at Ausbourg, she was sentenced and condemned to 
 clean the streets chained to a wheel-barrow. To end such a 
 state of misery the unhappy creature poisoned herself. This 
 was indeed a curious finale for an earl's daughter, and the 
 sister-in-law of a royal duke ! " 
 
 Meantime Colonel Luttrell had been made Commander-in- 
 Chief of the army in Ireland. He exercised immense influence 
 during the troubles which overwhelmed that country in 1798. 
 He was hand and glove with the Beresfords, and, it was said, 
 practised great cruelties upon the rebels. When he succeeded 
 
 * In 1806 the Duchess was in Rome, where her position was a subject 
 of perplexity to the authorities, to whom a rumour had filtered of the 
 displeasure caused by her marriage. Lord Cloncurry, who was in Rome, 
 seems to have acted a friendly part, and, owing to his intervention, a 
 guard of honour was daily mounted at the Duchess's residence. In 
 return for this' she was sponsor to his son, who was given the name of 
 Ann, after her Royal Highness. 
 
Anne Ltittrell, Duchess of Cmnberland. 229 
 
 his father as Lord Carhampton he showed an utter contempt 
 for public opinion ; he was flippant and offensive in his lan- 
 guage, arrogant and overbearing in his manner. He was the 
 most unpopular man of his time, and on several occasions 
 narrowly escaped the knife of the assassin. His great courage 
 and indifference to danger got him the reputation of bearing 
 a charmed life, and no further attempts were made upon him. 
 Towards the close of his career he was implicated in a very 
 unpleasant trial, and his accomplice, a certain woman called 
 Llewellyn; was hung in Stephen's Green. A friend of his. 
 Lord Boyton, fought a duel in his defence with Rowan 
 Hamilton. Lord Carhampton sold Luttrellstown to Luke 
 White, the fortunate winner of a lottery- ticket worth 20,OOOZ., 
 which made the beginning of his colossal fortune. He changed 
 the name of Luttrellstown to Woodlands, which is very 
 appropriate to its finely-wooded and picturesque situation. 
 It is still in the possession of his descendants.' 
 
 Lord Carhampton met his death, it was said by the super- 
 stitious, in consequence of a curse given to him by some 
 woman upon whom his horse had trampled, as he rode away 
 from his own door hale and hearty one summer's morning. 
 He was brought back in an hour's time a corpse.^ 
 
 He was succeeded by his brother John, as third Earl Car- 
 hampton, who had married the daughter and heiress of Lord 
 Waltham. He had no sons, and his daughter. Lady Francis 
 Luttrell, married Sir Simeon Stuart, equerry and aide-de- 
 camp to the Prince Regent, and, after he became King, comp- 
 troller to the royal household. George lY. ofiered him a 
 fresh patent for the Carhampton peerage, which Sir Simeon 
 refused, saying he was better known by his own name ; which 
 was undoubtedly the case, as being one of the most extravagant 
 of an extravagant Court." 
 
 ' Ancestor of the present Lord Annaly. 
 
 - The writer does not vouch for the truth of this story. There seems 
 to have been a family curser kept on the premises in some Irish families. 
 There is a curse in the Powerscourt family, in the Kavanaghs, of Borris, 
 and many others. It is a sort of trade-mark of high birth. 
 
 ^ From a letter of the present Sir Simeon Stuart of Chattle, who is 
 the representative of the extinct peerage of Carhampton. 
 
THE ROMANCE OP THE COGHLANS OF ARDO.' 
 
 Perched high upon one of the bleakest headlands of the 
 South of Ireland there stands a country house, consisting of 
 two wings, several round towers, and a square one, newly- 
 added. A few trees, growing quite close to the house and 
 along the approach, were evidently objects of the most 
 tender solicitude to their first owners, who, to provide shelter 
 from the furious gales that raged along the heights, built 
 lofty protecting walls of solid masonry. These walls run in 
 and out in an utterly irregular fashion, irrespective of any 
 design except that of enclosing every scrap of growth that 
 might possibly develop into a tree. However incongruous 
 or inconvenient these rambling plans of house, towers, and 
 walls may have originally been, the lapse of time, and the 
 interest of the strange fortunes of past dwellers in the 
 mansion, make them appear now an interesting and picturesque 
 arrangement. 
 
 The carefully-cherished trees near the house have thick 
 trunks and stout limbs branching from them, as far and no 
 farther than the height of the protecting walls. Above these, 
 there is only a dense mass of matted and twisted small branches, 
 whipped north-eastward by the prevailing south-westerly 
 gales. There is something touching in this expenditure on 
 walls which bespeaks much love of trees and care for them 
 in the past, without which it would have been impossible for 
 them to exist in such a spot. A bird's-eye view of the 
 country from adjacent heights, shows how few and far be- 
 tween are even the stunted beeches, alders, or sycamores that 
 battle out their wind-distraught existence. 
 
 It must have been a resolute mind which first planned a 
 
 * This memoir has been contributed by Miss F. W. Currey, of Lismore 
 whose sketch of the " Gallows of the Heir" will be found on page 233. 
 
The Romance of the Coghlans of Ardo. 231 
 
 home on this exposed spot, only a little below the highest 
 level for many a mile in every direction. From the house, 
 seawards, the ground slopes rapidly down a field or two to 
 the sea, where jagged clifi's and rocks of most forbidding 
 aspect repel the attacks of the long Atlantic rollers, and 
 there is always a sullen murmur of waters in the calmest 
 weather. As Ardo stands to-day, the scrupulously white- 
 washed walls gleaming brilliantly in the sun, the round 
 towers, and curious high latticed wood-work wind-screens — 
 all have a somewhat Moorish look. But no brightness of 
 sun, or shining whiteness, can dissipate the ghostly and 
 uncanny influence of the house, if one visits it when it is 
 uncheered by the presence of its owners, and there is 
 nothing of life or stir to divert the mind from the tales of 
 tragedy and strange ups and downs of fortune of its former 
 inhabitants. Still, it must be remembered that only a small 
 portion of the old buildings, that occupied by servants, now 
 remains, together with the long lines of masonry walls. The 
 present house was built about 1833, before which time the 
 place was fast falling into ruin. The old house must have 
 been somewhat like the present one in design, as it had 
 round towers and small iron- barred windows. 
 
 The earliest history of Ardo is vague, and recorded 
 accounts of its traditions and inmates few. From these, and 
 inquiries among the few living persons who can remember 
 any of the family, together with some notes of conversations 
 with a lady now many years deceased, who knew both Mrs. 
 Coghlan and her daughters, this chapter is compiled. 
 
 The ancient name of the bluff headland was Ardigena, 
 spelt much according to taste, after the manner of the olden 
 time. It is believed to have been inhabited in the seven- 
 teenth century by persons of the name of Costen, and a 
 gloomy tradition of treachery and violent death has been 
 handed down in connection with the last member of the 
 family. In and about Ardo, even twenty years ago, it was a 
 tolerably complete narrative as told by cottage firesides. 
 Now those who knew it in detail have passed away, and only 
 one or two remain who recollect having " heard the old 
 
22)2 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 people talking about it." The dark story was one of the 
 betrayal of a minor by his guardian. Young Costen, "the 
 heir of Ardo/' as he has been called since his tragic end, 
 had for his guardian a villain named Fitzgerald, who, without 
 much originality in wickedness, contrived to brand him as 
 a thief by a stratagem similar to that which Joseph used 
 against his brethren in Egypt long ago. After a friendly 
 visit to his guardian, the unsuspecting youth departed on 
 horseback with his valise, in which Fitzgerald had secreted a 
 valuable silver tankard. The false guardian's next act was 
 to hurry to a Justice of the Peace, and procure a search 
 warrant to enable him to recover his stolen property. The 
 justice, a harsh, insensible man, accepted Fitzgerald's story, 
 and set off with him, accompanied by a body of troopers, 
 in pursuit of young Costen, who found himself confronted 
 by his accusers at his own hall-door, just as he reached home 
 by a circuitous route. His innocence did not, of course, pre- 
 vent his being thunderstruck at such a charge from such 
 a quarter; but when the missing piece of plate was drawn 
 forth from his valise, he apparently either lost his head, or 
 realized that his persecutors were bent on his destruction, 
 and that his only chance of safety lay in flight. His horse, 
 one faithful friend, was still at his side; so, in his despair, 
 he leaped into the saddle, and fled in the direction of Ard- 
 more. To anyone who has traversed those rocky uneven 
 heights, it is easy to picture the miserable chase — a wild 
 afEiighted youth hunted by the excited troopers, who were 
 doubtless urged to the utmost exertions by Fitzgerald and 
 his companion in authority. One version of the horrible 
 end of the pursuit says that, his pursuers gaining on the 
 fugitive, he leaped his horse across a dangerous chasm, 
 and, gaining time by this desperate feat, doubled back on 
 Ardigena, and urging his horse up a steep incline, was 
 captured when the exhausted animal stumbled and fell. 
 After that a rope was fastened around his neck, and he was 
 dragged down to the rocks, and cruelly hung over a natural 
 bridge, amid the taunts and execrations of his inhuman 
 hunters. Another tradition says that he tried in desperation 
 
TJlb Romance of the Coghlans of A r do. 
 
 233 
 
 to force his horse — when, literally, between the devil and 
 the deep sea — towards this same natural bridge^ but the 
 animal missed its footing, and, rolling with its rider down the 
 cliff, he fell from the saddle, and, becoming entangled in the 
 reins, was accidentally hung at the spot called " Crook-an- 
 
 
 J 
 
 ■< .-ft A 'afe 
 
 
 
 J^i^ .>-^ 
 
 CROOK-AN-HEiEE (The Gallows of the Heir). 
 (Iteprodticed from original sketch by Miss F, W. Currey.) 
 
 heire," or " The Gallows of the Heir." This place of evil 
 memory is said to be haunted, and unearthly yells, wails, and 
 shrieks are heard above the noise of the ground-swell of the 
 sea, so that no one will pass the accursed spot after dark. 
 Other traditions respecting the tragedy assert that a cruel 
 stepmother was partly responsible for the crime. But most 
 accounts concur in attributing Fitzgerald's evil deed to his 
 
234 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 betrayal of the monetary trust confided to him, and fear 
 of discovery on the heir's approaching attainment of his 
 majority. 
 
 After passing through several hands, the house and property 
 were purchased by Sir Francis Prendergast. Another crime 
 is said to have been committed during the ownership of the 
 Prendergasts. A servant offended his hasty and arbitrary 
 master, who, it was alleged, had him secretly hanged from a 
 beam in the ceiling of a room in a part of the old house which 
 still remains. Needless to say, such a crime produced super- 
 natural sounds, and to get rid of the ghost and its noises 
 structural alterations became necessary. When the old house 
 was pulled down, a skeleton was found buried some feet 
 below the dining-room floor, and was believed to have been 
 that of the murdered servant. 
 
 The Coghlans obtained possession of Ardo early in the 
 eighteenth century, and around their persons and fortunes its 
 chief interest centres. The last male Coghlan who lived at 
 Ardo was Jeremiah,' and his wife was said to have been a 
 Miss Davis. The surviviug children of his marriage were four 
 in number, and surely never was there seen a greater inequality 
 of natural gifts, as well as fortune and destiny, amongst the 
 members of one family. The eldest daughter, Anue, married 
 in 1795, at the age of eighteen, the last and one of the least 
 reputable of the notorious Earls of Barrymore." The second 
 
 ' Jeremiah Coghlan ran away to sea when only a lad. He had a 
 strange stoi'y, which is told in Gronow's memoirs. 
 
 " At the beginning of this century the Barrymores were conspicuous 
 amongst the roues of the day. There were three brothers and one 
 sister ; they were known by the flattering sobriquets of Hellgate^ 
 Cripplegate, Newgate, and Billingsgate. The eldest was the mo!<t cele- 
 brated ; he had a country house near Henley which was the scene of 
 the wildest orgies ; his career was short, and his death mysterious. His 
 brother Cripplegate, so called from his lameness, indulged in all 
 manner of excesses and extravagances ; he was addicted to low company, 
 and married the daughter of a sedan chairman. Newgate, the eighth 
 and last Lord Barrymore, was not such a celebrated character as his 
 brothers ; he was, however, a famous whip, and his ambition was to be 
 taken for a genuine hackney-coach diiver. He was intimate with the 
 Prince Eegent, and indulged in all manner of extravagance ; the final 
 smash came after a splendid entertainment given to the Prince in Sack- 
 ville Street, crowded with all the rank, beauty, and fashion of London. 
 It was the expiring flame of the Barrymores. Wargrave was seized by 
 
The Romance of the Coghlans of Ardo. 235 
 
 daughter, Eliza, married a widower, an emigr// of exalted birth, 
 one of the noblest dukes of France — the Due de Castries. 
 Both of these Miss Coghlans were of great beauty and 
 charm. Lady Barrymore was small, but exquisitely formed ; 
 the Duchesse de Castries was less lovely, but tall and dignified. 
 Lady Barrymore had blue eyes and brown hair. The two 
 younger members of the Coghlan family, Jeremiah and 
 Thomasina — familiarly known as Jerry and Tamsin — were 
 both idiots, and despite their sisters' grandeur, died in lone- 
 liness and poverty. 
 
 Frances, Lady Musgrave, widow of Sir Richard Musgrave, 
 the second baronet, of Tourin, in the county of Waterford, 
 who died at the advanced age of ninety in 1865, had often 
 seen Mrs. Coghlan and her daughters, and visited at their 
 house during her stay at Grange, the seaside residence of the 
 Musgraves at Whiting Bay, near Ardo. Lady Musgrave said 
 that Ardo House was full of interesting old furniture, of 
 various styles and fashions j there was also a spinet, and 
 portraits of former residents at Ardo, including one said to 
 be that of the unhappy " heir," young Costen, last of his race. 
 There were also in existence at this time beautiful miniatures ' 
 of the celebrated sisters, in gold frames, one with a countess' 
 the other with a duchess' coronet. There was also a portrait 
 of the Duchesse de Castries, and her sons, Alix and Olonville 
 de Castries. In those days, country visiting was attended 
 with considerable difficulty, and Lady Musgrave used 
 humorously to describe her impressions de voyage, when 
 as a young bride she set out to return complimentary visits 
 paid to her by residents in the country around Whiting Bay. 
 The roads were so rough as to be impassable for anything less 
 strong than a springless farm-cart, and she found herself 
 
 the angry creditors, so was Castle Lyons and Buttevant. His estates in 
 the north of Ireland followed, and were bought by John Anderson, of 
 Armagh, with a reservation of four thousand a year for the Earl and four 
 thousand for the Countess. This, however, was soon squandered, and 
 the noble pair once more were paupers. Luckily for them the Due de 
 Castries, as stated in the text, came to the rescue. — [Abie by the Editor.'] 
 Every exertion has been made to trace these miniatures, so far 
 ineffectually. — '"Ec.j 
 
236 Sovie Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 obliged to pay her visits of ceremony in one of these carts, 
 padded with straw, feather beds, and cushions to lessen the 
 jolting. Lady Musgravehad many interesting recollections of 
 scenes and persons besides those connected with Ardo. She 
 knew the unfortunate Lord Sdward Fitzgerald, and re- 
 membered him at Bath, where he turned many heads, her own 
 included, so that she and other ladies used to ride out in green 
 habits to please his patriotic humour. 
 
 To return to the Coghlans — gossip was often busy with 
 regard to their way of living. Their means were known to be 
 small, and the fine silks and laces and ribbons worn by the 
 two elder and beautiful daughters of the house were accounted 
 for, not unnaturally in those days, by a supposed traffic and 
 friendship between Mrs. Coghlan, or " Madam," as she was 
 called by her household and dependents, and the smugglers 
 of the coast. She was said to befriend the latter by securing 
 information as to the whereabouts of the revenue officers 
 and their men, and by displaying signals from her windows 
 at Ardo, which could be seen far out at sea, to inform the 
 smugglers when it would be safe for them to land their 
 dangerous cargoes in the neighbourhood. The Coghlans lived 
 in a very expensive and reckless manner, and were fond 
 of every sort of gaiety. A sister of "Madam" was Mrs. 
 Connor, wife of Mr. Connor, who lived at that time at Lismore 
 Castle as agent to the Duke of Devonshire. The society in 
 which the Coghlans moved had the name of being a " rollick- 
 ing set," and of course social display required supplies of all 
 sorts, including smart clothes. Shops for ladies' fashions were 
 few and far between in those days, and communication — even 
 assisted by farm-carts and feather beds — slow and laborious ; 
 and there appears to have been some considerable trafficking 
 between Mrs. Coghlan and ladies who were her neighbours, 
 in silks, tabinets, laces, and ribbons — especially whenever the 
 wedding of a daughter or other festivity was impending, and 
 had to be provided for. As her possession of these articles 
 of supply was not very clearly accounted for, the smuggling 
 theory became generally accepted. In those days smuggling 
 was somewhat faintly reprobated, and the temptation to deal 
 
The Romance of tJie Cog/ilans of Ai'do. 237 
 
 with smugglers often proved too much for the principles of 
 people in a good position even. Two sons of a local clergy- 
 man, the Eev. Ponsonby Carew, who lived at Ardo for a short 
 time after Mrs. Coghlan's death, were both reading for the 
 Church, but were refused ordination by the then Bishop of 
 Waterford on the grounds of their trial and conviction for 
 buying smuggled goods. 
 
 In the Coghlans' time the kitchen was much the same as 
 it is now ; with a staircase in just the same position, leading 
 upstairs to the servants' rooms, and divided from the rest of 
 the house by a door. It used to be said that Mrs. Coghlan's 
 custom was to leave the kitchen table well stocked with 
 eatables and drink, and to open the postern door commu- 
 nicating between the kitchen and the out- door world, and 
 then to retire upstairs, locking the connecting door. In the 
 morning the table was clear of food, and in its place would 
 be found silks and laces, and occasionally a keg of foreign 
 wine or spirits. 
 
 The Coghlans were undoubtedly on good terms with their 
 poor neighbours, for though Protestants, and living in an 
 isolated place in turbulent times, they escaped without any 
 injury. During the rebellion of ^98 " Madam,'' then a widow, 
 continued to reside at Ardo with her two idiot children. The 
 only interference she suffered was the I'equisitioning of her 
 hospitable kitchen as a meeting place for rebels. Probably 
 the previous smuggling transactions suggested the later plan — 
 but it was on a less profitable basis for Mrs. Coghlan. In 
 such times, however, a lonel}^ widow may well have thought 
 she was buying safety cheaply enough, at the expense of 
 potatoes, bacon, and drink. About 1817 the Caravats, a 
 secret society of nocturnal habits and ill fame, used to come 
 to her every Saturday night, and her already reduced cir- 
 cumstances were still further straitened by their exactions. 
 A negro servant of the family, called " Gillick the Black," 
 used to walk to the Blackwater, and cross the river to the 
 town of Youghal every Saturday for marketing, and the 
 " Caravats " were always well informed of what he brought 
 out — meat, vegetables, fish, bread, everything, even to the 
 
238 Some Celebrated Irish Beatifies of Last Century. 
 
 gallon of whisky which their involuntaTy hostess was obliged 
 to supply for them. There is an entry in Youghal parish 
 church, St. Mary's, of the burial of this negro messenger. 
 It runs thus: "1824. March 21. Gillick Coghlan. An 
 ' African Black.' " 
 
 Ardo House was reputed to be both unlucky and haunted, 
 and if it has a somewhat uncanny look even now, when so 
 much restored and renovated, what must it not have seemed 
 when falling into decay daring the last years of Mrs. 
 Coghlan's lonely life. Once when Lady Musgrave was being 
 shown over the house in one of her visits to Mrs. Coghlan, 
 she was cautioned against falling over a couple of loose steps 
 in one of the staircases, which they had never, they assured 
 her, been able to fasten down securely since a child's body 
 l]ad been found beneath them — a disagreeable discovery made 
 just at the time of some wedding festivities. The crime of 
 the child's death and concealment was traced to some un- 
 happy servant's intrigue. Again and again. Lady Musgrave 
 was assured, the steps had been mended, only to be found 
 loose again ; so at last their unsafe condition was acquiesced 
 in — with no doubt the same resignation displayed in Ireland 
 in more commonplace cases of ill-repair. 
 
 There was certainly no scarcity of supernatural phenomena 
 at Ardo. In addition to the mysterious staircase, and the 
 unaccountable noises on the spot where the Prendergast tyrant 
 hanged his servant, and the wails and shrieks of the poor 
 betrayed " heir of Ardo's " spirit haunting his lost heritage, 
 the ghost of Jeremiah Coghlan, father of the two lovely and 
 ambitious peeresses, cannot apparently rest at peace, but has 
 been seen riding a ghostly steed about the roads of Ardo, 
 where he once carried a crimson banner triumphantly in honour 
 of the marriage day of one of his daughters. A gentleman, 
 now deceased, who formerly lived in the neighbourhood, and 
 was much respected throughout the countryside, had the idea 
 of purchasing Ardo some time after it had passed out of the 
 Coghlan family's possession, but was deterred from doing so 
 by the fatalities and superstitions with which the place was 
 associated ; and on one occasion he had a personal adventure 
 
The Romance of the Coghlans of A r do. 239 
 
 wtich seemed to hira to justify the common rumours. He 
 was riding away from Ardo House by one of its approaches, 
 which had formerly been lined by trees — these were felled, 
 however, before the occurrence in question — when his horse, 
 a well-bred, spirited beast, began to tremble violently, and 
 at last stopped, and utterly refused to move on. His master 
 could see or hear nothing to cause this fright, and tried to 
 urge the animal forward ; he could not get it to stir, however, 
 and it broke out into a violent lather of foam and sweat, so 
 that at last he had to dismount and tie his silk handkerchief 
 over its eyes. The horse then bounded forwards, and was 
 almost uncontrollable during the rest of the ride home. This 
 occurred at one of the places where Mr. Coghlau's ghost was 
 said to wander. 
 
 Accounts differ as to the place where Anne Coghlan first 
 met Lord Barrymore. A probable version is that which 
 asserts that Miss Coghlan met her future husband at a mili- 
 tary ball in Youghal — a town only a few miles from Ardo, 
 though divided from it by the river Blackwater. It is 
 also possible that they first met at Lismore Castle, where 
 her relatives, the Connors, saw much company ; or at Dro- 
 mana, near Lismore, the seat of the Grandison family, and 
 with which the name of Barrymore had tragic associations. 
 Dromana is magnificently situated on a rock overhanging the 
 Blackwater river, and commands a perfect view of the finest 
 reach of the river, and of great stretches of wooded country, 
 and the Knockmeldown mountains. One of the rooms facing 
 the river, from the windows of which one can almost look 
 down sheer into the dark water, is called the Balcony Room. 
 It was in this room that Richard, the sixth Earl of Barrymore, 
 shot himself in 1773, after a night of heavy losses at cards. 
 He was the guest of the last Earl Grandison,' who died in 
 1800, and who was one of the chief figures of a very fast 
 set when heavy stakes and high play were the fashion 
 of the day. It is almost needless to say that Lord Barry- 
 more's uneasy spirit cannot rest, but haunts the room where the 
 tragedy occurred. The belief in this ghost, or ghosts rather 
 ' For Lady Grandison, see page 49. 
 
240 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 obtained curious confirmation some years ago^ when, the 
 room being used as an oratory, or private chapel^ a lady 
 sent her maid into it late at night to fetch a prayer-book 
 which had been left there. The maid returned without the 
 book, saying she had opened the door^ but had not liked to 
 go in, fearing to disturb the party of gentlemen who were in 
 the room playing at cards. To this day noises and mysterious 
 souuds disturb the silence of night at Dromana, and are laid to 
 the accounts of the wild revellers and gamblers of this story. 
 It is curious that the seventh Earl was shot accidentally in 1793, 
 while escorting French prisoners between Folkestone and 
 TDover, just twenty years after his father's suicide. The follies, 
 vanities, and vices of Richard, the seventh Earl, are set forth in 
 his obituary notice in the Gentleman's Magazine of May, 1793, 
 with considerable frankness, by a candid biographer who, 
 while entitling his subject " this popular, witty, and eminently 
 gifted young nobleman," sandwiches flattering epithets 
 with a record of profligacy, folly and stupid jesting, in a 
 manner almost to suggest malice. " The Life of the late Earl 
 of Barrymore," published by Symonds in 1793, will fill in the 
 picture of this unedifying peer's hfe for those who care 
 to know more of it, and contemporary books dealing with 
 society gossip contain occasional references to him and his 
 successor to the title. His only brother, Henry, the eighth and 
 last Earl of Barrymore, married, two years after his brother's 
 death, Anne, " eldest daughter of Jeremiah Coghlan, of Ardo." 
 After her brilliant marriage Lady Barrymore weat the way 
 of her husband, and found herself plunged into the vortex of 
 dissipation of the fastest set in London, where her beauty and 
 Irish charm found full appreciation, and she carried off with 
 her from Ardo to town, Eliza, her almost equally beautiful sister. 
 Among her sister's gay friends, and in the world of fashion, 
 Eliza Coghlan won much admiration, but several proposed 
 matches of an advantageous character failed to end satisfactorily 
 through fear of the wild Barrymore connection. Subsequently 
 she met and became the wife, as already stated, of the Due de 
 Castries, at that time an emigre living in London in comparative 
 poverty. The children of this marriage were two sons, Alix, 
 
The Romance of the Coghlans of Ardo. 241 
 
 Comte de Castries^ and Olonville de Castries^ who died young ; 
 and one daughter^ Adele, whose life was cut short at the mo- 
 ment of its rarest promise. Through the De Castries family, 
 Eliza Coghlan was grandmother of Marshal M'Mahon, Due de 
 Magenta. The Due de Castries returned to France ' with the 
 Bourbons, and at the coronation of Louis XVIIT., an Irish 
 lady of rank, present at the ceremonies said she saw the 
 Duchesse de Castries, nee Coghlan of Ardo, seated before the 
 assembled sovereigns, enjoying, by virtue of some De Castries 
 privilege, the right to sit while others stood in the presence of 
 royalty. It was also reported that when the Due de Castries 
 resumed possession of his hotel in Paris, abandoned in the 
 ''TeiTor,^^ he found it unpillaged, and everything in order, just 
 as he left it. Under the Bourbons he obtained full recovery 
 of his estates and honours. The Duchess died at the height 
 of her fortunes, and Lady Barrymore took her place with the 
 children, and, childless herself, devoted the rest of her life to 
 their care, taking up her permanent residence in France. The 
 Duchesse de Castries, had had a great success as a beauty in 
 Paris — crowds following her carriage to obtain a sight of " La 
 Belle Anglaise." It is to the credit of Lady Barrymoi'e and 
 her sister that they never forgot their old mother in her loneli- 
 ness among the wild stormy cliffs of Ardo, but sent her every 
 day a minute account of their doings. It is to be feared that 
 these letters, which would be such rich literary treasures in 
 our day, were destroyed or lost in the condition of confusion 
 into which Ardo fell, when the idiot children continued to live 
 on there for a short time after their mother^s death. 
 
 The contrasts of the family fortunes must have seemed vivid 
 indeed to Mrs. Coghlan, ageing among her wild cliffs and rocks. 
 For her, poverty, a crumbling, decaying mansion, the thunder- 
 ing of the surf, and the cry of the sea-birds, the foolish talk 
 or foolish silence of the idiot children ; for her daughters, the 
 
 ' The Due de Castries, after his restoration to the family honours, 
 was made governor of Eouen. Cyrus Eedding mentions him as a 
 polished man of the Bourbon school, who, as Demouriez says, would have 
 thought all France ruined if an individual came to court with a ribbon 
 in place of a buckle in his shoes. He was very unpopular. — [Ed.] 
 
 R 
 
242 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 gayest salons of Paris and London, the glitter of courts, the 
 homage and flatteries to rank, and the apparent enjoyment of 
 life and luxury to the uttermost. But while no shadow of un- 
 happiness was ever believed to have fallen on the married life 
 of the Duchesse de Castries, rumour credited the Countess of 
 Barrymore with the reverse of her sister's experience. Stories 
 were told of her husband^s conduct towards her that were very 
 miserable, and disgraceful to him. Possibly while outwardly 
 gay, and seeming to enjoy a reckless, frivolous life, her thoughts 
 went longingly homewards to her mother and the peace of 
 Ardo, 
 
 After the death of their mother, somewhere about 1823, 
 Jerry and Tamsin continued to reside at Ardo for a little time ; 
 but the money matters of the family had become so involved 
 that they were removed to Lismore, to live there under the 
 care of a Mrs. Gurley, said to have been formerly in the 
 service of the family. It was a cruel grief to poor little Miss 
 Tamsin to leave her home, to which she was so devotedly 
 attached, and her accustomed seat by the chimney corner, 
 where she used to play with the dolls sent to her by those 
 great ladies, her sisters, and prattle of everything under the 
 sun, including the tragedy of the discovery beueath the stairs. 
 She loved dolls, and a lady who often visited her at Lismore, 
 described her thus : — 
 
 " She was very tiny and picturesque, always dressed in 
 white, and she delighted in the engravings of the Illustrated 
 London News, which we used to colour for her." 
 
 She liked attention, and being visited, and to receive pre- 
 sents of cake and pieces of silk and ribbon for her dolls. 
 It must have been a strange, pathetic sight to see the little 
 old lady — she lived to be eighty-five — dressed in childlike 
 white, and with the expression and mind and language of a 
 child, playing with her dolls. All those who knew her re- 
 present her as gentle and winning. A lady who knew her 
 well wrote of her as follows, describing her rigid Pro- 
 testantism : " I remember the old lady particularly telling 
 me that the people she lived with, and who had the care of 
 her, were earnestly endeavouring to induce her to become a 
 
The Ro7nance of the Coghlans of A r do. 243 
 
 Romanist, but that she never would consent. She had been 
 always in the habit of repeating the Lord^s Prayer and 
 Apostles' Greed morning and evening, and one evening they 
 .brought a priest, who tried to convince her that the creed 
 was in favour of his religion, not hers, for she said, ^I believe 
 in ... . the Holy Catholic Church/ Now Ms was the 
 Holy Catholic and hers only the Protestant, etc. ; but she 
 said, ' I never repeat those words now. I say, '' I believe in 
 the Holy Church of my own persuasion." ' This acuteness 
 in getting out of the dilemma struck me as the only glimpse 
 of brightness I ever remai'ked in her. Since then I have 
 frequently known half-witted persons show understanding 
 of a religious truth who were very obtuse about ordinary 
 matters." Similar accounts of her strong religious feelings 
 were given by other persons who knew her well and saw her 
 often. She had pleasure in attending the church " of her own 
 persuasion,^' and resented being taken by her guardians to a 
 Roman Catholic one ; and she would hide when a priest 
 called, but was delighted to see a Protestant clergyman, 
 saying, " Ah, this is one of my own persuasion." While at 
 Lismore she had the miniature portrait of Lady Barrymore 
 that Lady Musgrave saw at Ardo, and was very proud of it, 
 liking to show it as the picture of her beautiful sister. 
 She was very fond of birds, but always particular that they 
 must be hens. Also of babies — she was devoted to them, 
 and would examine every article of their clothing to see if 
 it were clean and well made up. When Ardo House was 
 about to be pulled down and rebuilt, poor little Miss Tamsin 
 heard of it, and begged so piteously to be taken to her old 
 home, that those in charge of her conveyed her there, where 
 she wandered from room to room through the whole place, 
 weeping bitterly, and sobbing that she was the last of the 
 Coghlans. 
 
 Jerry, the idiot boy, was fond of kittens, and used to carry 
 them about in his pockets in the happy days of his life when 
 he lived in his mother's care at Ardo. The boys on the 
 roads used to rouse his anger by calling him " Pussy 
 Mi-aow.'' He was kindly indulged by Mrs. Coghlan's 
 K 2 
 
244 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Centttry. 
 
 friends, and used to fall in love sometimes — but only with 
 those of his own rank who came up to his ideal of " fine 
 rollicksome girls." He was extremely attached to the 
 mother of a lady still living in the neighbourhood of Ardo.. 
 He could only be taught to count as far as five, and thought 
 he was doing real man^s work when minding his mother's 
 sheep along the cliffs, but they might all be stolen or 
 strayed if only five were left for him to count and bring 
 home. 
 
 Lady Musgrave met him after Mrs. Coghlan^s death on the 
 cliffs near Crook-an-heire, and he turned away from her, 
 sobbing bitterly, after telling her in his imperfect fashion 
 that his mother was dead. He was also said to have been 
 found one night lying in a swoon on her grave. He had 
 always loved her most passionately. His life at Lismore in 
 the care of a stranger was apparently a change which told 
 harmfully on his nature, if it was not the direct cause of his 
 falling rapidly into a worse mental state. He grew de- 
 pressed, and would not walk unless some one went out with 
 him. Mrs. Gurley took him one day into the garden and 
 made him hold on to a clothes-line, thinking he would let go 
 when tired and walk about ; after a time she came back and 
 found him still in the same position. He is described as 
 having been a well-developed, tolerably good-looking man. 
 He used to be tied frequently by his caretaker to prevent 
 him from climbing up the roof of the house — a poor substitute 
 for the cliffs and rocks where he used to wander unrestrained. 
 His sad life ended about thirteen years after the irreparable 
 loss of his mother. The entry of his burial is contained in the 
 registry of the Protestant cathedral at Lismore : " Jeremiah 
 Coghlan, Esq., late of Ardo, September 4tli, 1836." 
 
 Although the Duchesse de Castries and her sister cannot be 
 charged with neglect of their mother, it is impossible to 
 acquit Lady Barrymore of unconcern for her unhappy 
 bi'other and sister's fate. Shortly before Jeremiah's death, 
 the Comte de Castries, his nephew, came to visit a family of 
 the name of Lalor, then residing at Ardo, to make arrange- 
 ments about the head-rent due to his family, and a ball was 
 
The Romance of the Coghlans of A r do. 245 
 
 given in his honour in the house, and the prettiest girls in 
 the neighbourhood danced on the lawn before him. He also 
 went to Lismore and found the condition of his idiot uncle 
 and aunt and their way of living such as to cause him a 
 considerable shock. The sum of 50Z. was allowed for the 
 keep of each, and this was not increased after his visit. 
 Whatever were the young Frenchman's feelings, no action 
 was taken in the matter, and nothing was done to improve 
 the nature of their surroundings. 
 
 Little " Miss Ta," as she was sometimes called, lived to be 
 eighty-five, preserving to the end her childish appearance 
 and expression of countenance. The same registry that 
 records her brother's burial gives hers also : " Thomasina 
 Coghlan, January 24th, 1856 ; age, 85 years." 
 
 The sixth Duke of Devonshire hearing, during one of his visits 
 to Lismore Castle, of the sad and lowly state of the brilliant 
 Countess of Barrymore's sister, visited her, and was shown 
 by poor little Tamsin all her store of dolls and their clothes, 
 made from cast-off finery of ball-dresses that had been sent 
 to her by her sisters. The duke said he remembered Lady 
 Barrymore as the centre of the gayest society in London, and 
 he was distressed at the pitiful fate of a sister of so re- 
 nowned a leader of fashion. He sent her many presents, and 
 showed her many thoughtful kindnesses, which even limited 
 intellects can appreciate. One especially superb doll, a present 
 from the duke from London, was one of poor little Miss 
 Tamsin's most ti'easured possessions. 
 
 Through the De Castries family, the interest in Ardo passed 
 to Marshal M'Mahon. Twenty years ago or so advertisements 
 appeared in the pages of the Cork newspapers, having refer- 
 ence to the sale of this interest, inserted by authority of 
 Marshal M'Mahon, and giving his name as owner of the 
 interest for sale. Ardo, or Ardigena as it is still called, has 
 passed into the hands of Sir Joseph Neale M'Kenna, who 
 has made considerable additions and repairs to the build- 
 ings, and dissipated the eerie look that hung around the 
 place, compelling the mind to dwell on its past tragedies 
 and the strange fortunes of its former inmates. 
 
246 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century, 
 
 It would be interesting to know if any of those precious 
 letters from Lady Barrymore and the Duchesse de Castries 
 to their mother are in the possession of the M'Mahon 
 family, and also if they have any of the miniatures or por- 
 traits of the Due de Magenta's grandmother.* These are 
 well known to have been at Ardo towards the end of Mrs. 
 Coghlan's life, and, with other family pictures, showed her 
 lovely daughters in the perfection of their youth and beauty. 
 
 ^ Gainsborough painted two portraits of a Miss Coghlan who was a 
 belle at Bath in 1772. This may have been either Lady Barrymore or 
 her sister. The portrait was engraved by Raphael Smith, and published, 
 by Parker, 1772.— [Ed.] 
 
MISS FARRBN, COUNTESS OF DERBY. 
 
 The name of Farren would seem to be associated in an 
 intimate manner with the stage. Nineteen years ago, old 
 William Farren died. He had been in his day the best Lord 
 Ogleby and Sir Peter Teazle, as is now his son, William 
 Farren/ one of our soundest actors, equipped with all the 
 point and finish which distinguished the comedians of the 
 past, and which is only to be acquired by years of training 
 such as never comes in the way of our up-to-date actor, who 
 is nothing but an exotic grown under pressure, and forced 
 into sudden prominence. He knows nothing of that delicate 
 perception of humour which does not bear too much handling, 
 but communicates its meaning to the audience by a glance, a 
 smile, a motion of the head or hand, which is the real expres- 
 sion of comedy. In all this William Farren is admirable, 
 his face, with the slightly Volterian mouth, lending itself to 
 the sly humour of certain situations, as in the scene where he 
 takes the spectator into the joke of Joseph Surface and the 
 French milliner. 
 
 Another clever member of the family was the inimitable 
 " Nelly Farren " ' whose walk was not genteel comedy but 
 the humour of burlesque in its early days, when it did 
 possess some claim to be what it called itself. It has now 
 blossomed into a bad attempt at opera comique. 
 
 ^ There have been three generations of William Farrens, all actors iu 
 the same line. The elder William was excellent as " Grandfather White- 
 head," " Sir Harcourt Courtly," etc. Hazlitt said of him " he plays 
 the old gentleman, the antiquated beau of the last age, very much after 
 the fashion that we remember to have seen him in our younger days, 
 and that is quite a singular coincidence in this." 
 
 ^ Nelly t.irren, daughter to Henry Farren, William the elder's son : 
 he too had the family passion for the stage, but made no mark. 
 
248 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century, 
 
 I have not studied tlie genealogical tree of the Farrens, 
 and therefore I am not in a position to state in what, if any, 
 degree of relationship either of the above mentioned artists 
 stand to the great actress Elizabeth Farren. 
 
 Elizabeth was the youngest child of a Surgeon Farren, who 
 was blessed with a large family, but without adequate means 
 to support his annual blessings, his practice being indifferent, 
 and his habits too loose and extravagant to remedy the ill-effects 
 of evil fortune. His wife who, we are told, was ladylike and of 
 gentle blood, thought to mend matters by returning to the 
 stage from whence the Surgeon had taken her. Unfortunately 
 her talent was mediocre, and the small gifts nature originally 
 bestowed upon her had diminished rather than increased by 
 the cares of married life ; this would go without saying. On 
 the other hand, Mrs. Farren's two daughters and her husband 
 threw themselves with ardour into the theatrical profession. 
 It was the Crummies over again (that is if one can apply this 
 expression to what went before, as it is likely that the 
 Farrens furnished material for the Crummies) ; the entire 
 family were stage-struck. Mr. Farren threw up the un- 
 grateful office of ministering to the few pauper patient? 
 who employed him, and finally adopted the stage as a 
 profession. His first venture was in Shepherd's company.' 
 Not finding this engagement satisfactory, Farren resolved 
 upon being manager of a company of his own. 
 
 A strolling or sharing company, as it was called, was not 
 difficult to organize, no permanent theatre being required ; 
 
 ' Barnard in his "Retrospections," tells a story of Farren which proves 
 that he was a man of far superior attainments to his brutal manager. 
 While stopping at a country inn he wrote on the window-pane four 
 lines : — 
 
 How different David's fate from mine, 
 
 His blessed, mine is evil ; 
 His Shepherd was the Lord Divine, 
 My Shepherd is the Devil. 
 
 With the true spirit of a courtier, Barnard tells us that he immediately 
 thought that if he could induce the landlord to sell him the pane, it 
 would be an agreeable souvenir for Farren's daughter, then Countess 
 of Derby. The landlord, however, would not agree. " Mr. Barnard," 
 said he, " ever since Mr. Farren wrote those lines I have never wanted a 
 lodger." 
 
Miss Farren^ Countess of Dei' by. 249 
 
 and everyone having a share in the profitSj with a like division 
 of labour. The system was simple. The company generally 
 consisted of sixteen persons ; the profits were divided into 
 twenty shares ; the manager took to himself five — four for 
 any risk incurred, one as a performer — the remaining fifteen 
 were divided, each player having one share, without regard to 
 individual merit. In Farren's company he and his family 
 got the lion's share of profits, his wife and himself taking 
 the chief parts, whilst the two children appeared as infant 
 phenomena. Curiously enough there was a Mr. Snodgrass 
 in the company, who figured in the bills as Osmond Brontes ; 
 another actor was christened FitzMontagu. 
 
 On Christmas Eve, 1 769, we first get acquainted with the 
 Farren company as it made its entrance into the town of 
 Salisbury. Not being able, through want of means, to 
 advertise their arrival, these sharing companies generally 
 advertised themselves by a procession through the streets ; 
 in this way did Mr. Farren appear. First came the 
 drummer,^ then the weary troupe in their most decent 
 apparel, then Mr. Farren with a stage walk, a la Crummies, 
 leading by the hand his youngest child, Lizzie ; a cart with 
 the properties brought up the rear. The whole procession 
 jarred upon the religious susceptibilities of the mayor of 
 Salisbury, who was a god-fearing man, and strong in his 
 denunciations against '^ players." On Christmas Eve too, 
 disturbing the quiet of the town and obstructing the thorough- 
 fare. He would see what right these strollers had to offend 
 against his, the mayor's, principles. He at once made out an 
 order for the manager of the troupe to appear before him, and 
 demanded to see his license; this was not forthcoming, and 
 although Farren pleaded that he had the money and was ready 
 to pay, the mayor would not listen, and the luckless manager 
 was clapped into Salisbury jail, there to spend his Christmas 
 day. That he escaped this misadventure was due to the 
 
 ' The drum was considered by some companies infra dig., and at the 
 bottom of the bills would be found — " This company does not heat the 
 drum." Some companies could not afford a cart, and carried all their 
 properties with them, which must have had a ragged, motley appearance. 
 
250 Some Celebrated Irish Beattties of Last Century. 
 
 quick wit of Mr. Snodgrass, alias Osmond Brontes, who 
 assuming his own name and adding to it a clerical prefix, 
 waited on the mayor disguised as a Church of England clergy- 
 man who happened to have just arrived in Salisbury and 
 wished to give his worship some money towards the Christmas 
 charities, if there was any prisoner in jail who for a certain 
 sum might be liberated ? In this way Mr. Farren was enabled 
 to join his family, but the incident of his imprisonment is 
 associated with a pretty touch of romance. 
 
 Early on this Christmas morning, while he was yet under lock 
 and key, his little girl Lizzie made her way through the snow, 
 which lay thick on the ground, to where her father was shut 
 up ; she carried carefully in her hand a bowl of bread-and-milk. 
 The child would, however, have found it difficult to reach the 
 window through which she was to pass her father's breakfast, 
 if she had not met with kindly help from a boy a few years 
 older than herself, who had seen her go by his father's shop 
 and followed her to the prison. This boy was later on Chief 
 Justice Boroughs. 
 
 For three years Mr. Farren continued his precarious 
 calling of manager of a travelling company, the little 
 Lizzie, like the infant phenomenon, being put up as an 
 attraction, playing columbine in the Christmas entertainments, 
 and dancing and singing between the parts. Farren, however, 
 had fallen into intemperate habits ; he constantly came on the 
 stage too tipsy to play his part, and was quite unfit for the 
 office of manager. This was a time of sore distress to the 
 little family, from which, however, the death of Fallen relieved 
 them. Mrs. Farren was an energetic woman, and, free from 
 the burden of a drunken husband, soon placed herself in 
 comparative comfort. She removed to Liverpool, where her 
 brother, a trader in good position, lived. Either he or Whitley^ 
 the manager of the Chester company, got her an introduction 
 to Younger, the manager of the Liverpool theatre : she and her 
 two daughters presented themselves to him. Younger was a 
 humane man, as well as a prudent, far-seeing manager ; he at 
 once saw the mei-its of the two girls, and as salaries were in 
 those days small in comparison to what they are now, he made 
 
Miss Farren, Countess of Derby. 251 
 
 no difficulty as to likewise engaging their mother. Margaret, 
 afterwards Mrs. Knight, played chambermaids, and Lizzie the 
 juvenile leads, varied by an occasional part, such as Edward 
 the Fifth. It was to Younger she owed her first step in life. 
 In 1777 he introduced her to Colman,' who engaged her 
 for the Haymarket Theatre. The family therefore removed to 
 London, taking lodgings in Suffolk Street, to be near the 
 theatre, where the young actress appeared in minor characters ; 
 she did not, however, attract any attention until her constant 
 friend Younger came to London as the stage manager of 
 Drury Lane. Miss Farren was engaged permanently as an 
 articled pupil, and during the winter of 1777-8 she played 
 alternately at the two theatres, there being a coalition between 
 the managers ; her first part of any note was that of Miss 
 Hardcastle, in which, however, she made little impression. 
 Mrs. Clive, Mrs. Abingdon, Mrs. Baddeley, Mrs. Gibber, and 
 Mrs. Barry made a galaxy of " stars " almost unsurpassed at 
 any period of the drama ; these had the monopoly, so to speak, 
 of public favour, and there seemed to be no place for the 
 beginner. The dramatic censor of the day gave her some 
 mild words of encouragement, somewhat akin to damning with 
 faint praise ; assurances that later on she might hope to be 
 an acquisition ; but before that time arrived she should conquer 
 her diffidence, learn how to tread the stage, modulate her tone 
 of voice, study to be correct in spirit, varied in action, and 
 give to her feelings a proper utterance, by suitable expression 
 of voice and countenance. This was a disheartening opening 
 for the debutante, who with her friends had reckoned on a 
 brilliant success. Yet the check was wholesome, especially as 
 the advice was taken in good part. From this time Miss Farren 
 made every effoi't to correct the faults which had passed 
 unnoticed when she was playing to provincial audiences, the 
 result being the attainment of such a measure of success as to 
 excite the alarm of the public favourites, who could bear no 
 
 ' Colman used to tell an amusing story of Mrs. Farren having 
 a pocket lined with tin, constructed inside her dress, in which she 
 carried her own and her daughter's luncheon ; the tin prevented the 
 gravy from escaping. 
 
252 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 rival to approacli their throne. Her first success that can be 
 counted as general was in Colman's play " Separate Mainten- 
 ance.'^ The part of the heroine was to have been played by 
 Mrs. Abingdon, but Sheridan^ who did not wish his great 
 attraction to be discounted at a summer theatre^ offered her 
 her own terms to refuse the engagement, which she did. There 
 was nothing left to Colman but to give the part to Miss 
 Farren, which he did reluctantly. She, however, scored such 
 a success as to be quite on the same platform as Mrs. 
 Abingdon, in proof of which an allusion was added to the 
 prologue on the second or third night of the performance, — 
 
 " A Younger Princess hoists the Empress' flag." 
 
 The advent of the " younger princess ^^ had no doubt some- 
 thing to say to the calmness with which Sheridan viewed the 
 retirement of Mrs. Abingdon.' When this event happened. 
 Miss Farren stepped quite naturally into the popular 
 favourite's parts, which she played to admiration. 
 
 Her fine ladies have never been surpassed and rarely 
 equalled by any actress. " In distinction of manner and 
 refinement she excelled Mrs. Abingdon, who,'' says Horace 
 Walpole, " could never go beyond Lady Teazle, which is a 
 second-rate character, and," he adds, '' that rank of women 
 are always aping women of fashion without arriving at the 
 style . . . " : whereas he ascribes Miss Farren's superiority in 
 elegance and the true manners of society to the fact that she 
 had associated with the best style of men (and he might have 
 added women) in England; so that her fine lady was not a 
 brummagem imitation, but the real thing, with the true ring 
 in those elegant levities which belong to such characters as 
 Lady Teazle, Lady Towneley, and Lady Betty Modish.' These, 
 
 ' Mrs. Abingdon did not retire until 1782, and Miss Farren became 
 the leading actress of Drury Lane. 
 
 - The latest revival of the " School for Scandal " by the Daly Company 
 was an example of this want of grasp of the true key. All that repre- 
 sentation could do was done ; the minor details of furnishing the 
 piece with old-fashioned bureau-chairs, dressing the characters with 
 wigs, sacques, and patches were in perfect taste, and an excellent re- 
 production of a hundred and fifty years ago. This only brought out in 
 stronger contrast the want of vitality in the Sneerwell, Backbite, Mrs. 
 
Miss Farren, Countess of Derby. 253 
 
 when reproduced by the dramatists of the day^, required much 
 finesse in the acting, " No actress/^ says Colman^ '' has ever 
 performed so perfectly the character of Lady Towneley as 
 did Miss Farren ; her levity was never wanting, and her 
 mirth had no approach to rudeness." This last word touches 
 the real note, and it is here that the actresses of our day 
 oftentimes misinterpret such characters as Lady Teazle, the 
 Country girl, and Miss Hardcastle. They present vulgar 
 hoydens, without any trace of the sly humour, elegant 
 trifling, and real refinement which distinguished the women 
 of the last century, and which should be delicately conveyed 
 to the audience to make the part a real success. 
 
 It was here that Miss Farren excelled, and the delusion was 
 so perfect that the spectatcrs began to imagine that the 
 actress was really the character she was only portraying; 
 this was not quite the case with Lady Teazle, which differs 
 very essentially from Lady Towneley. In the latter there is 
 no disparity between husband and wife, and the vulgarity 
 which, in the village girl, should all along be apparent 
 through the slight veil of assumed fine-ladyism, can never be 
 present in the lady of quality who, born to fortune and station, 
 is secure of her place in society, and can take certain liberties 
 with the world of fashion. If these conditions are remem- 
 bered, the disputes between the married pair are simply delight- 
 ful; the presentation, however, requires rare gifts, especially 
 in the actress. It is doubtful if there is, at this moment, any 
 one on our stage, unless, perhaps. Miss Terry (and she lacks 
 certain qualities), who could essay the part with even a 
 moderate chance of representing with success the combination 
 of archness, repartee, spirit, feeling, and refinement which 
 Miss Farren gave to her representation, and in which she has 
 never been equalled. Her elegance of appearance was much 
 in her favour, as was also her refined manner of answering 
 her lord's reproaches. The scene is worth quoting : — 
 
 Lord Towneley : Going out so soon after dinner, Madam ? 
 Lady Towneley : Lard, my lard, what can I possibly do at home ? 
 Lord T. : What does my sister, Lady Grace, do at home .'' 
 
 Candour, and Lady Teazle, the one brilliant exception being Sir Peter. 
 Here we had the real note struck, and what a difference it made ! 
 
2 54 Some Celebrated Irish BemUies of Last Centiuy. 
 
 Lady T. : Why, that is to me amazing. Have you ever any pleasure 
 at home ? 
 
 Lord T. : It might be in your power, Madam, to make home a little 
 more comfortable to me. 
 
 Lady T. : Comfortable ! and so, my good lord, you would really have 
 a woman of my rank and spirit stay at home to comfort her husband ? 
 Lord, what notions of life some men have ! 
 
 Lord T. : Don't you think, Madam, some ladies' notions are full as 
 extravagant ? 
 
 Lady T. : Yes, my lord, when the tame doves live coop'd within the 
 pen of your precepts. I do think them prodigious indeed. 
 
 Lord T. : And when they fly wild about this town, Madam, pray what 
 must the world think of them ? 
 
 Lady T. : Oh, the world is not so ill-bred as to quarrel with any 
 woman for liking it. 
 
 Lord T. : Nor am I, Madam, a husband so well bred as to bear my 
 wife's being so fond of it ; in short, the life you lead, Madam, — 
 
 Lady T. : Is to me the pleasantest in the world. 
 
 Lord T. .- Madam, it is time to ask you one serious question. 
 
 Lady T. : Don't let it be long in coming then — for I am in haste. 
 
 Lord T. : Madam, when I am serious I expect a serious answer. 
 
 Lady T. : Before I know the question .P 
 
 Lord T. : Psha — . Have I power, Madam, to make you serious by 
 entreaty P 
 
 Lady T. : Well, then, you have. 
 
 Lord T. : Now then, recollect your thoughts, and tell me seriously 
 why you married me ? 
 
 Lady T. : Why then, my lord, to give you at once a proof of my sin 
 cerity and obedience — I think I married to take off that restraint that 
 lay upon my pleasures while I was a single woman. 
 
 Lord T. : How, Madam, is any woman under less restraint after 
 marriage than before it ? 
 
 Lady T. : Oh, my lorJ, my lord, they are quite different creatures ! 
 Wives have infinite liberties in life that would be terrible in an un- 
 married woman to take. A married woman may have men at her toilet ; 
 invite them to dinner, call them by their Christian names, and in her 
 Gaiete du Gceur toast a pretty fellow. 
 
 Miss Farren^s acting of Lady Tov^^neley raised her at once 
 to a high position. Tate Wilkinson compared her to Peg 
 WofRugton, but considered her manner more polished. He 
 made a scale of comparison, which was then much in vogue, 
 between the dead and the living actress — which ran in this 
 
 Mrs. Woffington tall. So is Miss Farren. 
 
 Mrs. Woffington beautiful. So is Miss Farren. 
 
 Mrs. Woffington elegant. So is Miss Farren. 
 
 Mrs. Woffington well bred (P). So is Miss Farren. 
 
 Mrs. Woffington had a harsh, Miss Farren's voice is be- 
 
 broken, discordant voice. witching. 
 
 Mrs. Woffington could be rude Miss Farren • . never. 
 
 and vulgar. 
 
Miss Far r en, Countess of Derby. 255 
 
 " So undoubtedly/' he adds, " Miss FarroTi seizes the 
 wreath of fame withfsecurity, as she adds to her perfections in 
 the scale of merit, virtue, modesty, reverence to a parent, and 
 every other endearing quality ; therefore, let me twirl my 
 cap and cry, lonq- live * the Farren.' " 
 
 Despite Tate Wilkinson's eulogistic twirling of his cap, it 
 may fairly be doubted that Miss Farren was possessed of 
 even a tenth portion of the cleverness with which Peg 
 WoflSugton was gifted. She lacked many of the qualities 
 which distinguished her predecessor ; she had little variety, 
 and had none of the sympathetic gifts which are absolutely 
 necessary for a great actress. She could not go one inch 
 beyond light comedy parts, whereas Woffington could move 
 her audience to tears as well as provoke them to laughter. 
 Her versatility, likewise, was wonderful, and she could play 
 men's parts with the same facility as women's. Miss Farren 
 essayed but once what is called, in stage language, a breeches 
 part ; ^ it would have been more to her credit had she never 
 done so, as one could then assume her maiden modesty stood 
 in the way of exhibiting her person in masculine attire. The 
 truth, however, has fairly to be told that her figure looked so 
 exceedingly unshapely,' and she made altogether such an 
 awkward appearance, that she never repeated the experiment. 
 One of her admirers said she was a straight line from head to 
 foot, and that her legs were like a sugar loaf. 
 
 On other points all must agree with Wilkinson that she 
 was far superior to Mrs. Woffington. Her propriety of con- 
 duct has never been doubted ; it was rare, in the time in 
 which she lived, to find one in her profession, exposed to so 
 many temptations, who had any claim to virtue, or who would 
 be admitted into society — not only admitted, but received 
 on a footing of intimate friendship, by ladies of unblemished 
 propriety as well as of the highest position. The Duchess of 
 Leinster, Lady Ailesbury, Mrs. Damer, Lady Cecilia John- 
 stone and Lady Dorothy Thompson, were amongst her friends. 
 
 ' This was as Nancy Lovell in Colman's play, " The Suicide." 
 ° Her figure was tall but not sufficiently muscular; with a little more 
 embonpoint it would have been one of the finest in the theatre. 
 
256 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 It has been urged against Miss Farren, tliat '^ being alive to 
 the advantages she might gain from such society^ she was 
 careful never to do anything that might forfeit the esteem of 
 the crowd of fashionables who caressed her." If this were true, 
 it would not detract from her merit, although it might lower 
 the high standard upon which her virtue was founded. There 
 can be little doubt her disposition was coldj if not calculating ; 
 she was never known to give way to any gusts of passion, and 
 all through her career is not credited with any " green-room 
 attachment " for man or woman ; except a short spasm of 
 sentiment for John Palmer, the actor, which not being re- 
 ciprocated, speedily died a natural death. 
 
 It was this coldness which interfered with her playing any 
 tender or touching part with success. "Her sentiment," says an 
 intelligent critic, " was never successful, because it was over- 
 strained, unreal, and in contrast to her fine lady parts, artificial. 
 There was no pathos in her grief, nothing spontaneous in her 
 love." This was the only false note in her acting, it rendered 
 the penitential scene of Lady Towneley ineffective, her senti- 
 ment being so evidently artificial. The young actress herself 
 was aware of her deficiency, and her taste led her to prefer 
 light comedy, but either her managers or the public forced her 
 to play romantic heroines. 
 
 Towards the end of 1777 an event happened which in- 
 fluenced the young actress's future, and changed her position 
 very considerably. It would be idle to speculate whether, 
 without the incentive of a coronet in the future. Miss Farren's 
 life would have been so entirely sans re^jroche as it was ; she 
 no doubt had everything to gain by an exercise of proper 
 restraint, and it is due to her to say she realized this fact very 
 thoroughly, and never lost sight of the end she had in view. 
 That her dreams of future greatness depended for fulfilment 
 upon the length of life accorded to another woman, would 
 seem to some minds unpleasantly calculative. But it does 
 not appear to have shocked her ideas of decorum, or those 
 of that dragon of propriety, her watchful mother, that the 
 encouragement she gave to the attentions of a married man 
 were hardly in accordance with the Farren standard. Lord 
 
MISS FAEREN, COUNTESS OF DERBY. 
 
 lTofacei)affe 266. 
 
Miss Farren, Countess of Derby. 257 
 
 Derby, it is true, was not living happily with his wife, but it is 
 worthy of notice that there was no talk of a separation until 
 after his admiration for Miss Farren had become the passion 
 of his life. It has been said that this attachment began after 
 Lord Derby's separation from Lady Derby, which separation 
 was due to her levity of conduct; an examination of those 
 silent witnesses "dates" disproves this statement. It was 
 in 1777 that Miss Farren first met her noble lover; the 
 occasion some amateur theatricals given by the Duke of 
 Richmond at Whitehall i*lace. The play was the " Heiress " 
 written by General Burgoyne/ who only three years previously 
 had composed the Masques in honour of Lord Stanley's 
 marriage with Lady Betty Hamilton. - 
 
 Since then Lord Stanley had succeeded to his grandfather's 
 title and estate- He and his beautiful young wife were living 
 apparently happily together; he had just begun the em- 
 
 ^ General Bnrgoyne's " Lord of the Manor " went through ten editions, 
 and is to be found in Villemain's"Horsd'oeuvresdes Theatres et rangers." 
 Horace Walpole says : — '• Burgoyne's battles and speeches will be for- 
 gotten, but his deUcious comedy of the ' Heiress ' still continues to delight 
 the stage." 
 
 - The " Heiress " was produced at the Haymarket, where it had a run 
 of thirty nights, this being considered unusually long. It was pro- 
 nounced by the judges to be the best comedy that had appeared since 
 " The School for Scandal." It has not. however, held the stage as that 
 delightful comedy has done, and hardly repays reading ; its success was 
 no doubt greatly due to the admirable performance of Miss FaiTen. 
 Lord Berwick used to say, " Ah, that game of chess ! that game of 
 chess ! I shall never see anything like it again." Horace TTalpole was 
 loud in praises of both the play and the actress ; writing to Lady Ossory, 
 he says, "General Burgoyne has written the best modern comedy for the 
 same reason that Mrs. Oldfield played genteel comedy so well, because 
 she not only followed but set the fashion. Who should act genteel 
 comedy perfectly but people that have sense ^ Actors and actresses can 
 only guess the tone of high life, and cannot be inspired by it. . . Why," 
 he adds, " are there so few genteel comedies 'i But because most 
 comedies are written by men not in that sphere. Etheridge, Congreve, 
 Vanbrugh and Gibber wrote genteel comedy because they lived in the 
 best company : so too with Miss Farren, who is as excellent as Mrs. 
 Oldfield, and for the same reason." By this last sentence is meant that 
 Miss Farren knew well all the ways and customs of the great ladies she 
 imitated. 
 
 It does not seem quite certain whether Miss Farren acted the heroine, 
 or merely dii-ected the performance ; having offered her help to oblige 
 the Duchess of Leinster, sister to the Duke of Kichmond. 
 
258 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 bellishment of his magnificent house in Grosvenor Square, 
 and was lavishing large sums of money upon the apartments set 
 apart for the Countess. All seemed couleur de rose; the world 
 had, at all events, heard no hint of domestic incompati- 
 bility. 
 
 I think, therefore, that one may fairly — without throwing 
 any slur on Miss Farren's good name — date the change that 
 came over the spirit of Lord Derby's dream to the amateur 
 performance at Richmond House. His lordship was passion- 
 ately fond of the stage, and his o^n pretensions to be an 
 actor were fairly good. He played with a certain gravity and 
 steadiness. The caste included the ladies of the family, with 
 Mrs. Damer and Lord Henry FitzGerald, who was a light 
 comedy actor. Charles Fox was stage manager, and Miss 
 Farren directed the performance, having probably offered to 
 do so, as she was under great obligations to the Duchess of 
 Leinster, a daugher of the Duke of Richmond. The result 
 of this green-room intimacy was to give the fascinating 
 actress two lovers, Charles Fox and Lord Derby. At first 
 Fox seemed to be first favourite. Miss Farren was either 
 not aware of the impression she had made upon her 
 noble admirer, or she was not able to resist the fascination 
 which Fox is said to have exercised over every woman. She 
 gave such decided encourgement to his attentions, as to set 
 wagging the tongues of the Backbites and Sneerwells of 
 society, who now predicted the immediate surrender of the 
 immaculate star of propriety. Their astonishment was great 
 when Fox suddenly withdrew into the cold shade of friend- 
 ship ; rumour, at fault for a reason, decided that his suscepti- 
 bilities had been wounded by the thickness of his divinity's 
 legs, when she deigned to show herself in masculine attire. 
 The truth, however, gradually oozed out. Fox had made the 
 actress an offer of what was called in the language of the 
 day " carte blanche,^' and had been haughtily and decidedly 
 repulsed. This affair raised her immensely in the estimation 
 of her fi-iends, especially Lord Derby, who was speedily made 
 acquainted with all the particulars. 
 
Miss Far ren, Countess of Derby. 259 
 
 Matters at this moment were at high tension between him 
 and his young wife. Kind friends had been sure to tell her of 
 her husband^s devotion to the new actress, and stung by- 
 jealousy, she foolishly retaliated by a reckless levity which 
 her dignified Lord resented. Lady Derby's flirtation with 
 the Duke of Dorset has been spoken of elsewhere ; ' that there 
 was anything serious in it is clearly disproved by the fact that 
 Lord Derby's threats that he would seek a divorce came 
 to no fruition from want of evidence. 
 
 This is not the place to discuss what was the maximum or 
 minimum of Lady Derby's fault ; there has been silence for 
 over one hundred years on the subject ; it was said at the 
 time that she ran away, and, being caught by her brother, 
 the Duke of Hamilton, was brought back like a naughty 
 child, and punished accordingly. The separation which took 
 place by mutual consent after the birth of the third child, 
 proved beyond a doubt that the Countess was innocent so 
 far as any major fault was in question, for if the Earl could 
 have procured a divorce, he would have gladly availed himself 
 of the chance, in order to make Miss Farren his wife. As it 
 was, he entered into a conditional engagement with the actress. 
 
 "■ These sort of prospective arrangements, which hang upon 
 the life or death of an existing impediment, would be," says 
 Hazlitt, " to some minds quite as abhorrent as putting the im- 
 pediment out of the way/' Nor can there be any doubt that 
 in the case which we are considering. Lady Derby's death was 
 anxiously looked for by the pair of lovers. It is repulsive to 
 consider such a condition of things, so utterly out of accord 
 with either morality or religion ; and although casuists may 
 defend such indecent compacts, we feel sure that at a higher 
 tribunal than ours they will meet the condemnation they 
 deserve. In this world, however. Miss Farren's cold-blooded 
 calculation was successful, but not for many long years. 
 Ill and suffering, a wreck in beauty and shattei'ed in mind, the 
 Countess held firm hold of the title and position for which 
 her rival craved. Our sympathy for Lady Derby lessens 
 somewhat when we find that she too was anxious to divorce 
 ' See memoir of Duchess of Argyll. 
 s 2 
 
26o So7ne Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 her husband, in order, it was said, to marry the Duke of 
 Dorset. Miss Farren was, however, far too astute to give 
 even a loophole to her enemies; it was asserted that she 
 never saw her lover alone even for the space of a minute. 
 Such extreme caution showed a want of confidence not 
 flattering to the Earl ; it was, however, no part of the actress's 
 game to marry the man without being able to enjoy to the 
 full the benefits his position would afford her, and she was 
 therefore careful never to lower her guard, so that when the 
 moment of triumph did come, society should give her the 
 reward she deserved. One cannot help a feeling of malicious 
 pleasure in knowing that this reward was so long delayed ; 
 years rolled on, and Miss Farren had to be content with playing 
 stage ladies of rank, her popularity in this line being ever 
 on the increase. Hazlitt, who rather sneers at her ladylike 
 airs and graces, acknowledges she had the most elegant 
 manipulation of her fan, and an indescribable turn of the head, 
 which went well with her tripping tongue. The refined and 
 difficile Walpole considered her the first of all actresses, but 
 makes an exception for her Beatrice, which he thought she did 
 not play well. This is strange ; Beatrice being one of those 
 arch yet vivacious parts, mingled with a certain elegance, which 
 should have suited an actress of her style and figure. How 
 charmingly it has been played in our own day by one 
 who somewhat resembles Miss Farren, although it may be that 
 there are broader touches in Miss Terry's style than in that of 
 her predecessor, who was remarkable for the exquisite finish 
 of her acting. This last quality is not so much needed in 
 Shakspeare's heroines, who are more flesh and blood than 
 ideal women ; and for this reason Miss Farren afl^ectioned them 
 less than other actresses of her day. In 1779, Miss Farren 
 paid a short visit to Dublin, and played a round of her 
 favourite characters at Smock Alley Theatre. No particulars 
 of her visit are handed down either by Genest or Victor. This 
 silence on the part of two such garrulous writers would lead us 
 to the presumption that the actress had not made a success in 
 the Irish capital, which in those days had a reputation for 
 theatrical criticism beyond that enjoyed by either London or 
 
Miss Far r en ^ Countess of Derby. 261 
 
 Edinburg-li. If she did not please her critics, she must have 
 drawn large audiences, for her receipts were over 800/. On 
 her return to London, she once more settled down to steady 
 work. She was hardly a night absent from Drury Lane, play- 
 ing a round of characters truly surprising : Berinthia, in 
 the " Trip to Scarborough " ; Belinda, in " All in the Army " ; 
 Angelica, in " Love for Love " ; Elvira, in " The Spanish 
 Friar " ; Hermione, in " The Winter's Tale " ; Olivia, in 
 "Twelfth Night"; Portia, etc. It is not astonishing that 
 some of this varied repertoire should not have suited her ; one 
 of her critics complains of an error into which her great 
 popularity induced her to fall, and which she is entreated to 
 correct. " She is too playful, too free in the management ot 
 her countenance, and understands too soon, and more than is 
 consistent with the character she is playing. It is exceedingly 
 painful," goes on this candid critic, " to the rational part of the 
 audience, to see a young lady Avho is to take the head of an 
 honourable house insinuate that she understands more than is 
 becoming; she will be certain of giving more satisfaction by 
 softening the colouring than by making it more glaring." 
 She was likewise accused of certain tricks which were not 
 approved of; "the nod of recognition and the simper of 
 friendship should never make part of a public performance, 
 neither should an actress fix her attention upon one box, and 
 play to it rather than to the audience." This habit drew down 
 upon the actress a rebuke from Lord Chesterfield who, when 
 Colman^s play "Lady Newberry" was much the fashion, 
 came to see it. Chesterfield had just published one of his 
 famous letters to his son, Philip Dormer, in which he had 
 insisted strongly on the graces of manner, deportment, etc. 
 In one of the scenes Lady Newberry says she has a receipt for 
 making a fine gentleman. " A fine gentleman by receipt ? 
 Why, how is that ? " asks one of the characters. " I will 
 tell you in three words, the graces, the graces, the graces ! " 
 When the play was over. Lord Chesterfield came round to 
 the green room and angrily told Miss Farren that when 
 she had said " the graces,*' she had looked towards him, and 
 so had turned the attention of the house on him. 
 
262 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Ce^itury. 
 
 Miss Farren was now in tlie perfection of her charms ; her 
 figure was above the middle height, graceful, and suited to the 
 disposition of drapery, in which she was exceedingly happy, 
 this serving to conceal the lack of plumpness which was 
 her only defect ; her eyes were blue, she had a lovely mouth 
 and winning smile ; her voice was sweet, more by cultivation 
 than from nature, her intonation being occasionally somewhat 
 nasal. After Mrs. Abingdon's retirement, in 1782, she at once 
 stepped into the position of leading actress at Drury Lane, 
 but this advance made no difference in the amount of work, 
 or the punctuality with which she fulfilled her engagements ; 
 she seems to have steered her course through the theatrical 
 world, which, as everyone knows, bristles with pitfalls for the 
 unwary, with the utmost caution and dexterity. All through 
 her career we hear of no quarrels with her managers, no 
 bickerings with rival actresses, no stories attaching to her 
 name. Much of this, no doubt, was due to the natural 
 reserve of her character, and the excellent training she had 
 received from her mother, whose own experience was beneficial 
 to her daughter. It was she who advised the avoidance of 
 green-room friendships, which generally share the fate of 
 violent delights, in having violent endings. She put before 
 the young actress the steady purpose she should have in view, 
 and taught her to dissociate herself as far as possible from 
 that lower element which unfortunately is the substratum of 
 all professions, but more especially is to be found in the 
 theatrical. Miss Farren had an aim in view, and never forgot 
 that one day she might be called to fill a high position, and 
 that it would be to her advantage to avoid any contact with 
 those, the disorder of whose lives was matter of notoriety, and 
 who thus brought the stage into contempt.' One must admire 
 
 * The only time she departed from this rule was when she spoke the 
 appeal for the unfortunate Ann Bellamy, but this was in the cause 
 of charity, see page 40. It is worth while to quote here an incident 
 which took place before Miss Farren joined the Drury Lane company, 
 and which gives an idea of the character of such women as Mrs. Baddeley 
 and Mrs. Abingdon, as also of the manners of the day. In 1773 the 
 managers of the Pantheon had framed strict rules for the exclusion 
 of doubtful characters; these were much resented by the young bloods 
 of the day, who were resolved that whoever were excluded, Sophia 
 
Miss Farren, Co7intess of Derby. 263 
 
 her for her steadiness in refusing to hold auy connection 
 beyond what stage requirements necessitated with such 
 " damaged peaches " as Mesdames Abingdon, Baddeley, or 
 Robinson, while to Mrs. Siddons she accorded the honour of 
 a close friendship ; and also to the charming authoress of the 
 ever delightful simple story, she extended a kind and emi- 
 nently useful patronage, remembering the friendship which, 
 in the old days of struggle now so far behind, had existed 
 between her father and Mr. Inchbald. 
 
 We can easily imagine with what feelings she was regai'ded 
 by those of her sister actresses whose life was cast on such 
 different lines. How they envied her, and turned into ridicule 
 her fine lady airs, and jeered at her chariot, and her footman, 
 and her noble admirer. The sting of it all was, that there 
 
 Baddeley should be admitted. Twenty gentlemen, headed by Mr. 
 Hanger and Mr. Conway, Lord Hertford's son, met together and vowed 
 to carry the matter through. They formed an escort round her chair as 
 she proceeded along Oxford Street, and by the time she was set down 
 in the porch of the Pantheon, her escort had increased to fifty of the 
 most elegant noblemen and gentlemen in town. The constables allowed 
 her amiable friend Mrs. Steele to pass. When, however, the fair 
 Sophia followed, they lowered their staves, and civilly but resolutely 
 refused to allow her to enter, saying their orders were not to admit any 
 players. This was putting the refusal in the politest form, for Mrs. 
 Baddeley's reputation was such that she would have been refused 
 entrance, had her station in society been of the most unexceptional. Her 
 gallant defenders were not going to let the matter end thus. Fifty 
 swords flew from their scabbards, the constables gave way before this 
 valorous onslaught ; the chivalrous protectors of the offended lady then 
 raised their sword-points, and with flashing steel surrounding her, the 
 heroine of the hour passed jiroudly into the Rotunda. Even then the 
 " honest indignation " of the escort was not appeased. They refused to 
 sheath their swords until an apology had been offered by the manage- 
 ment, and when this was done the two highest ladies in the room, the 
 Duchess of Ancaster and her Grace of Argyll, came forward to assure 
 the blushing actress of the satisfaction it gave them to receive such an 
 addition to their assembly. A messenger was immediately despatched 
 to Mrs. Abingdon, who was waiting in her chair hard by to hear the 
 result of Mrs. Baddeley's attempt to force the citadel of propriety. 
 Forthwith this fair but doubtful lady made her entrance, and from this 
 night no further effort was made to keep the Pantheon more select as 
 to company than was either Ranelagh or Vauxhall. One would have 
 supposed that the introduction of these " damaged peaches " would have 
 induced ladies of rank and with proper feelings of decorum to withdraw 
 their countenance from places of amusement where their daughters were 
 likely to rub shoulder to shoulder with such characters. Nothing of the 
 sort ; the very fact added piquancy to the entertainment, and the rooms 
 were more crowded than before, after the Baddeley incident. 
 
264 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 was no weak point in her armour of propriety for malice 
 to seize upon, while the respectful devotion paid to this 
 statue of virtue increased their hatred and envenomed 
 their malice, which in no way injured the object of their 
 dislike. 
 
 Her popularity as an actress, instead of diminishing, seems 
 to have been on the inci'ease ; the nights she played the house 
 was always crowded. The manager, with a due regard to 
 the coronet looming in the near future, put her forward on 
 all public occasions, knowing that to see " Miss Farren '' was 
 a sure draw. When DruryLane was opened in 1794, after its 
 being rebuilt by Holland, it was Miss Farren who spoke the 
 epilogue. In this she assured the audience that there need 
 be no panic at any time as to fire, as there was water enough 
 in the house to drown them all at a moment's notice. The 
 scene then shifted and showed a real lake on the stage, with a 
 boat which was rowed by a man, while the band played '^ A 
 Jolly Young Waterman." After this realistic performance, an 
 enormous sheet of iron ' descended, leaving Miss Farren 
 between it and the footlights, when she pointed out in her 
 bewitching voice that this strong defence was meant (in case 
 fire broke out on the stage) to ensure the safety of the 
 spectators. 
 
 No, we assure you generous benefactors 
 Will only burn the scenery and the actors.- 
 
 Miss Farren had now been close on twenty years before a 
 London audience ; her popularity was untouched. A greater 
 triumph still was the constancy of her noble lover, who for 
 seventeen years had served for his mistress as faithfully and far 
 longer than Jacob had done for Rachel. Fidelity like this, seeing 
 
 ^ The opening for the curtain was 45 feet wide, and 38 high; It was 
 about seven times the height of the performers. There was room in the 
 theatre for 3000 persons all seated, but it was with difficulty the actors 
 could be heard. 
 
 Despite this assurance, Drury Lane was again destroyed b;^ fire in 
 1809 . This was the third time. The original theatre was burned in 1671 ; 
 the second, designed by Wren in 1674, new facied and decorated by Adam 
 in 1771, was taken down in 1794, and replaced by Holland's Wilderness, 
 as Mrs. Siddons called it, burned in 1809. The present structure was 
 erected in 1812 from designs by Wyatt. 
 
Miss Farren^ Countess of Derby. 265 
 
 that it is a rare virtue, excites both wonder and respect. He 
 was never happy but when he was with her. Every afternoon 
 the now rather obese Earl could be seen crossing Grosvenor 
 Square to the little bow- windowed house in Green Street^ 
 where Miss Farren had established herself (in the opinion 
 of some, rather indecorously near). On other occasions 
 he would accompany her home from rehearsal, puffing hard 
 from want of breath, as he tried to keep up with her more 
 youthful steps, she sometimes out of mischief going on very 
 fast, to his infinite distress. In the evening he was always in 
 his box close to the stage, listening with never wearied atten- 
 tion to the tones of the voice he loved, and glass in hand 
 studying every turn of her head, every glance of her eye. 
 Miss Wynne, whose '^ Diary of a Lady of Quality " is such 
 pleasant reading, records when she went with fi'iends to see 
 " The School for Scandal,^^ how they noticed, in the screen 
 scene. Lord Derby leave his box and creep round to the stage 
 to have a word with Miss Farren ; and wicked Miss Wynne, 
 then a mischievous young girl, wished that the screen behind 
 which he had hid himself, would fall, and disclose to the 
 audience Lord Derby as well as Lady Teazle.^ Occasionally 
 his lordship, who had elegant tastes, would break out into 
 rhyme as a vent to his feelings. There were lines to a portrait 
 of Miss Farren by Humphrey, with all the high-flown com- 
 pliments then in use, and lines to Miss Farren on her being 
 absent one Sunday from church, which are something better. 
 
 " While wondering angels when they looked from high, 
 Observed thy absence with a holy sigh, 
 To them a bright ethereal Seraph said, 
 Blame not the conduct of th' exalted Maid, 
 Where'er she goes, her steps can never stray, 
 Religion walks, companion of her way. 
 She goes with every virtuous thought impressed, 
 Heaven on her face, and heaven within her breast.'' 
 
 Society meanwhile looked on half amused, half interested 
 
 * AH the world knows that it is due to this nobleman that the time- 
 honoured "Derby," of which every Englishman is proud, was instituted, 
 the race being run on Epsom Downs — which forms part of " the Oaks '' 
 property at Banstead, Surrey — in 1787. The race was won by the Earl's 
 horse, called Sir Peter Teazle, a delicate compliment. Sir Peter was 
 painted by Gilpin. 
 
266 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 at this unusual spectacle of patient love and mutual forbear- 
 ance. Strangely enough, as is often the case, the world 
 respected what it could not imitate, and did not ridicule a 
 virtue which was so out of keeping with the morals of the day. 
 Here and there a mild jest would be hazarded; some lines 
 were sent to Miss Farren admonishing her not to play Darby 
 and Joan too early; or Horace Walpole writes to bis 
 flame, Mary Berry, and tells her " that the east wind is as con- 
 stant as my Lord Derby." In some of the scui-rilous papers 
 a few ill-natured caricatures are to be found, with very little 
 point. On the whole the lovers came off easy, Miss Farren's 
 prudence, which seemed to increase with years, rendering it 
 impossible to assail her character. Her position was still 
 further strengthened by the support she received from her 
 own friends, who were warmly attached to her, and likewise 
 from Lord Derby's circle of relations, who, with few exceptions, 
 treated her with all the respect and affection that was as much 
 due to personal regard as to the position in the family she 
 would one day fill. People of the best position, and distin- 
 guished as well for their own merits, were flattered at 
 being asked to the little suppers given by Miss Farren after 
 the play. Mrs. Farren always presided, and the company 
 included such names as General Conway, Horace Walpole, 
 Kemble, Mrs. Siddons, the Ogilvies, Lady Ailesbury, Mrs. 
 Damer, General Burgoyne, and all the pleasantest and best 
 known people in London. " Ah, those charming suppers," 
 Lord Berwick would say, " where we meet the best of good 
 company." 
 
 Through all this weary time of waiting, which grew more 
 weary as time went on. Miss Farren was punctual in her atten- 
 dance at the theatre. Only once was there a little friction 
 with the public; this was in 1796, on the occasion when 
 Holcroft's '^ Force of Ridicule *' was produced, in which Miss 
 Farren created the part of the heroine. When the usual time of 
 commencing had elapsed, some disapprobation was expressed, 
 and Mr. Palmer appeared to inform the audience that as Miss 
 Farren had not come, they were apprehensive she had been 
 taken suddenly ill, but that a message had been despatched to 
 
Miss Farren, Countess of Derby. 267 
 
 her house. The messenger returning with the news Miss Farren 
 was too ill to leave her room, the manager announced that 
 Isabella was to be substituted, but that those who wished to leave 
 would receive their money. The pit and galleries were at once 
 deserted, few remaining to see Mrs. Siddons, who came from 
 Covent Garden, where she was witnessing the performance. 
 A letter appeared next day in the paper to assure the public 
 Miss Farren's illness was bona fide ; nevertheless, there were 
 rumours that jealousy of a new actress, Miss Ducamp, and 
 some dispute about a satin gown, was at the bottom of the 
 affair. The piece came on on the 6th of December, 1796 : the 
 house Avas crowded, and when the curtain rose there were 
 some signs of dissatisfaction, which made the actress nervous. 
 Wroughton, however, made an apology for her unintentional 
 offence, and the play proceeded. 
 
 This incident must have shown Miss Farren that favour even 
 such as she had enjoyed was liable to a reverse. Fortunately 
 for her, she had only to seek popularity for a short time ; her day 
 of triumph was at hand. In the April following the production 
 of " The Force of Ridicule," the only impediment to her 
 elevation to rank and wealth ceased to exist ; the Countess of 
 Derby, on the 4th March,' 1797, passed away from a world 
 which had not shown itself too kind to her. The later years 
 of her life had been ver}' different from that of her brilliant 
 rival. 
 
 For years she had suffered from a slow and painful disease, 
 and society had seen little of the once gay, beautiful, and 
 wilful young creature, who had turned the heads of half 
 London. Her coronet, which for so long had been Miss 
 Farren's ambition, now lay within her grasp. When the 
 news of Lady Derby's death was known, there was a 
 wonderful clatter of tongues, and high betting at White's ; not 
 that this was a particular compliment, as the members would 
 bet on the wagging of a sparrow's tail. However, there were 
 
 ' Lady Derby died at the house of G. J. Hamilton, Gloucester Street, 
 Portmau Square, and was buried at Bromley, Kent, on the 2nd April. 
 The papers of the day add " her own family paying all her debts, which 
 amounted to £5000." 
 
268 Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of Last Century. 
 
 doubts as to whether the Earl would fulfil his promise (every- 
 one knew there was a promise), and gratify Miss Farren's 
 ambition by making her at last his Countess. Report said his 
 affections had grown somewhat cooler^ or that time had staled 
 her infinite variety ; then^ again, it was whispered young Lord 
 Stanley had entered the field against his fatherj and was now 
 Miss Farren's chaperone to and from the theatre. The malicious 
 forgers of all these on dits were destined to be disappointed. 
 
 The newly-made widower showed an indecent haste in avail- 
 ing himself of his happiness. Lady Derby died on March 4th, 
 and the marriage took place in six weeks. It would have 
 been sooner, only that the youthful bridegroom was seized 
 with a fit of the gout, which is no respecter of lovers^ vows. 
 Previously to this, Miss Farren took leave of the stage. This 
 was made the scene of a demonstration in favour of the popular 
 actress, who must have felt a curious but mixed sensation 
 of triumph, regret and nervousness, as she came on the stage 
 for the last time. It was on the 8th of April ; the house was 
 crowded from floor to ceiling. The play was " The School for 
 Scandal,'^ and the cast was as follows : — 
 
 Sir Peter Teazle , 
 Charles Surface , 
 Joseph Surface . 
 Careless 
 Crab tree 
 Mrs. Candour 
 Lady Teazle 
 
 Mr. King. 
 Mr. Wroughton. 
 Mr. Palmer. 
 Mr. C. Kemble. 
 Mr. Suett. 
 Miss Pope. 
 Miss Farren. 
 
 Miss Farren was (her detractors said j9r^ii?wf/^(i to be) much 
 moved ; as the play went on her emotion was painfully 
 exhibited, it was with the utmost difficulty she got through 
 her part. When she came to the last scene, her emotion 
 overpowered her. This was evident in the concluding words 
 of Lady Teazle's last speech. 
 
 " Let me also request that you will make my compliments 
 to the scandalous college of which you are president, and in- 
 form them that Lady Teazle, licentiate, begs leave to return 
 the diploma they granted her, as she leaves off" practice, and 
 kills characters no longer." Here she stopped, looked at the 
 
Miss Farren, Cotmtess of Derby. 269 
 
 audience, and burst into teai'S. King then led her forward, 
 and Wroughton spoke the following lines, — 
 
 But ah, this night adieu the joyous mien, 
 
 When Mirth's loved favourite quits the mimic Bcene ; 
 
 Startled Thalia would the assent refuse, 
 
 But Truth and Virtue sued and won the Muse. 
 
 Awed by sensations it could ill express — 
 
 Though mute the tongue, the bosom feels not less — 
 
 Her speech your kind indulgence oft has known 
 
 Be to her silence now that kindness shown. 
 
 Ne'er from her mind th' endeared record will part, 
 
 But live, the proudest feeling of her grateful heart. 
 
 She was then led away amidst a scene of much excitement. 
 In the green-room another ovation awaited her ; it was 
 crowded with admirers^ friends of high and low degree ; every- 
 one was in tears. Dejeune the singer sobbed convulsively, the 
 heroine was fainting ; she had to be almost carried to her 
 coach. 
 
 Whether all this emotion was sincere even on her side, may 
 fairly be doubted ; it was a sort of theatrical display, very well 
 arranged and carried out. On the evening of her wedding day 
 Mrs. Siddons paid her the compliment of reciting some verses 
 in praise of her many virtues. This was the closing scene so 
 far as her dramatic career was in question — the curtain had 
 now to rise on a totally different stage. 
 
 The marriage had to be delayed a fortnight on account of the 
 fit of the gout with which the elderly bridegroom had been seized 
 in rather a raal a propos fashion. The happy event, however, 
 took place on May 1st, by special license, in his lordship's house, 
 Grosvenor Square, at 9 o'clock in the morning ; after which the 
 newly married pair set out for " The Oaks/^ where they spent 
 the honeymoon — a short one, for to the surprise of their friends 
 they returned to town in two days ! 
 
 As may be supposed, their being so soon satisfied with the 
 delightful tete-a-tete they had been so long pining for, caused 
 some merriment ; it must, however, be remembered that they 
 were no longer in the flower of youth, the bridegroom being 
 forty-six and the bride forty ; they were too sensible to indulge 
 in silly transports, and being secure by long experience of 
 their mutual affection, settled down into a quiet Darby and 
 
2 JO Some Celebrated Irish Beauties of L ast Century. 
 
 Joan life. The new Countess was moreover devoted to her 
 mother, who from the time of the marriage lived with the 
 married pair, accompanying them to their country seat, and 
 having her own apartments in Grosvenor Square. Her 
 maternal pride must have found infinite satisfaction from the 
 manner in which her daughter was received in the high circles 
 into which she was now introduced ; not as an intruder, but 
 as one of the intimate society of what was then an exclusive 
 nobility. The Queen distinguished her by different marks of 
 favour ; she made one of the procession at the Princess Royal's 
 marriage, and when she was first presented she was especially 
 singled out for the most flattering attentions. It was said 
 that on this occasion she assured the Queen that the most 
 blissful moment of her life was " appearing before Her 
 Majesty in a new character.^' This speech, which was probably 
 made for her, was hen trovato. 
 
 Lady Derby, however, could not escape the shafts of malice 
 which indeed are always in attendance on great success, it 
 being the unsuccessful and feeble, persons who escape the 
 jealous detractor. Soon after her marriage an ill-natured 
 pamphlet appeared, written by an anonymous scribbler who 
 took the name of Petronius Arbiter. It is full of inuendoes 
 as to Miss Farren's origin, and accusations of meanness — which 
 had a slender_, if any, foundation — ingratitude towards those 
 who befriended her in her early days of struggle, and of her 
 turning from her door Younger, who had been the first to 
 help her to fortune. This question of gratitude is always a 
 difficult one ; on the one hand there is the impossibility of 
 satisfying the claims which in many cases are exaggerated ; 
 and there is likewise the bridge which lies between the past 
 and the present, and which those we have left behind in the 
 journey of life cannot hope to cross. " Arbiter's " pamphlet 
 seems to have been written by such a one. It was answered 
 by a very full denial of these accusations, and soon fell into 
 the limbo of neglect to which such anonymous slanders should 
 be consigned. 
 
 In the " Illustrious Irishwomen " series a story is told of the 
 meeting between Miss Farren and one of her early friends. 
 
Miss Farren, Countess of Derby. 2 7 1 
 
 which has a dramatic flavour. On one of her visits to their 
 Majesties at Windsor, Lady Derby's carriage broke down ; it was 
 Christmas time, and the snow fell heavily, and lay inches deep 
 on the ground. The prospect was growing unpleasant, as it 
 was getting late, and there seemed no mode of extrication, 
 when fortunately another carriage appeared on the scene. 
 Seated in this was an elderly gentleman, also on his way to the 
 Castle, and he at once offered his assistance in conveying the 
 countess. This gentleman turned out to be Chief Justice 
 Boroughs, who, like herself, had taken the tide of fortune at 
 its flood, and was now in the enjoyment of fortune, position, 
 and the friendship of the King. As the pair drove along 
 through the dark, the curtains of the pasc must have rolled 
 back, and presented to the memory of both the Christmas 
 morning at Salisbury, and their first meeting at the prison 
 window. 
 
 There is little more to be said concerning this charming 
 woman, whose story will ever excite interest. She lived to 
 over seventy years of age, dying so far on in this century as 
 1829. In her later years she grew fond of the rather uninter- 
 esting habit, much in fashion with our grandmothers, of snuff- 
 taking. Her features coarsened, and her appearance lost the 
 delicacy which had been her eharm in youth, and which she 
 had preserved in her maturity. Of three children born of this 
 marriage only one daughter lived. She married in 1821 the 
 Earl of Wilton. Lord Derby survived his wife five years, 
 dying in 1834 at the ripe age of eighty -two. 
 
 The well-known picture by Lawrence gives us some idea of 
 those charms which fascinated those who lived in the Coun- 
 tess's day : it has the airy grace and arch expression which 
 her contemporaries dwell upon with so much admiration. 
 Small trifles indicate character, and a close observer will note 
 the cautious manner in which the cloak is gathered round her 
 slender shoulders, which caution was, as we know, a salient 
 feature of her character. The half-length which was painted 
 for Mrs. Farren is, to my thinking, more attractive than this 
 better known picture. 
 
 \¥Qr list of i:)ortraitfi, see Appendix.'] 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 PETER GUNNING. 
 (See page 30.) 
 
 Peter Gunning, sou of the Vicar of Hoo, and brother to Richai'd* 
 Gunning. A famous preacher ; elected Fellow of Clare Hall, Cambridge, 
 in 163o ; an ardent Royalist; published a formal protestation against the 
 rebels ; preached against them at Tunbridge and other places ; was im- 
 prisoned and deprived of his fellowship. He retired to Oxford, where he 
 was appointed Chaplain to the New College ; was tutor to Lord Hatton and 
 Su' Francis Compton, and chaplain to Sir Robert Shirley ; he conducted 
 the services at Exeter Chapel, after the true Anglican mamier, under the 
 very nose of Cromwell, who secretly connived at this malpractice. Evelyn 
 mentions going to Exeter Chapel to hear Gunning preach. On this 
 occasion (IGoT) he was in the act of administering the sacrament, when 
 the chapel was suiTOunded and all the communicants surprised. When the 
 Restoration came, Peter received his reward. 1G60 he was created D.D., 
 presented to a pi-ebend in Canterbuiy Cathedi'al, instituted to the rfectory 
 of Cottesmore in Rutlandshh'e, elected Master of Clare Hall, Cam- 
 bridge, and made Regius Professor of Divinity at Cambridge ; VUV.) 
 he was promoted to the Bishopric of Chichester, and 1(174-0 trans- 
 lated to Ely, where he died 1()84. He was a man of most decided 
 convictions ; took a prominent part in the Savoy Conference, where 
 he was pitted against Baxter. Baxter, in his account of the Conference, 
 speaks of Gunning's passionate addi-esses. He says Gunning was the 
 forwai'dest and best speaker on the Chui'ch side, a man of greater study 
 and industry than any of them, well read in the Fathers and Councils, and 
 he adds : "I hear of very temperate life as to all carnal excesses whatever." 
 Burnet speaks of the whole affair contemptuously ; he accuses Gunning of 
 a desire to reconcile the Chm'ch of England and Rome by restoring crosses 
 and sm'plices. Peter Barwick, on the other hand, calls the Bishop " the 
 hammer of the Schismatics"; Avhile Deids Grenville, Dean of Durham, 
 regarded Gunning as the first spiritual father, and records how, on 
 November 9th, 1G71>, he had the contentment of receiving the sacrament 
 at the hands of good Bishop Gunning, to whom the evening before he had 
 unbm^dened his conscience. Pepys, in his Diary, mentions over and over 
 again the excellent sermons of Gunning ; and many v^rriters bear testimony 
 to his excellent life, character', and liberality alike to the poor and to 
 scholars. He wrote a multitude of works, all on Church matters. A list 
 
274 
 
 Appendix. 
 
 of these will be found in the Dictionary of National Biography, Volume 
 XXIII., fi'om which this short notice of Bishop Gunning has been abridged. 
 Sir Robert Gunning, of Herton, Northlands, was the great-gi'andson in 
 direct succession from Richard Gunning, through John Gunning, Richard's 
 eldest son. Sir Robert was highly distinguished, being Minister Plenipo- 
 tentiary to the Coui-t of Denmark 1765, to Berlin 1771, St. Petersburg 
 1770 ; created a baronet 1778 ; member for Wigan 1796. (See Foster's 
 Peerage and Baronetage.) 
 
 PETER GUNNING, BISHOP OF ELY. 
 
 Owner. 
 
 Painter. 
 
 Description. 
 
 Engraver. 
 
 Sutherland 
 Gallery. 
 
 — 
 
 Half-length, cap, long 
 hair, peaked beard, 
 wide bands, black robe. 
 Underneath is written, 
 "The Bishop of Ely." 
 
 T. Beckett for the first 
 plate ; for the second, 
 J. Smith is substituted 
 for Beckett. 
 
 JOHN GUNNING,^ OF CASTLE COOTE. 
 
 - 
 
 Liofard. 
 
 A miniature. Under- 
 neath the likeness four 
 verses in Latin, six 
 circles', doves on each 
 side, and eight verses, 
 etc. 
 
 Houston. Very rare, 
 only two known. 
 
 The portraits of Lady Coventry, like those of the Duchess of Hamilton 
 and Ai-gyll, are numerous. Every artist of any note being anxious to 
 transfer the lovely faces of the two sisters to their canvas, makes it a 
 matter of some difficulty to present a complete list. The following is taken 
 from the best sources of iixfomiation. 
 
 MARIA, COUNTESS OF COVENTRY. 
 
 Owner. 
 
 Painter. 
 
 Description, 
 
 Engraver. 
 
 Unknown. 
 
 Wilson, 1751. 
 
 As the fair Hibernian. 
 
 This is very rare, only 
 
 
 
 Standing with her hair 
 
 one engraving known. 
 
 
 
 dressed with pearls, 
 
 on the back of which is 
 
 
 
 feathers, etc. ; hands 
 
 written, "Miss Gunn- 
 
 
 
 holding a wreath of 
 
 ing, before she left Ire- 
 
 
 
 flowers. 
 
 land," and " by Mr. Gul- 
 ston. This was scraped 
 by Wilson, the painter, 
 and given by him to 
 Mr. Bindley, who gave 
 it to me." There is an 
 etching likewise of the 
 same by Wilson. 
 
 ' Reproduced on page 
 Gallery, Dublin, 
 
 from the original in the Iveagh Collection, National 
 
Appendix. 
 
 275 
 
 Owner. 
 
 Painter. 
 
 Description. 
 
 Engraver. 
 
 _ 
 
 Griffin, 1751. 
 
 Fair Hibernian. Stand- 
 
 PaulPatton. Verysimi- 
 
 
 
 ing, her hair dressed 
 
 lar to Wilson's, only 
 
 
 
 with pearls, feathers 
 
 reversed, and under- 
 
 
 
 and a veil, round her 
 
 neath there are these 
 
 
 
 neck a jewel hung by a 
 
 lines : — 
 
 
 
 triple ribbon. 
 
 By famed Apelles drawn, 
 
 the Cyprian Queen 
 Of perfect beauty has the 
 
 standard been ; 
 The brightest nymphs from 
 
 every part of Greece 
 Did all contribute to adorn 
 
 the piece : 
 But happier for our age that 
 
 gives to view 
 In this one fair Hibernian 
 
 all he drew. 
 
 - 
 
 Wilson, 1751. 
 
 With her right hand to 
 face. 
 
 Wilson. 
 
 ~ 
 
 Liotard, 1751. 
 
 A short half-length 
 with a muslin veil, and 
 ring on little finger. 
 
 Sayer. 
 
 — 
 
 Liotard, 1752. 
 
 Another nearly similar. 
 
 Houston. This is well 
 
 
 
 with an embroidered 
 
 known to collectors as 
 
 
 
 dress and veil fantas- 
 
 a mezzotint. Houston 
 
 
 
 tically arranged, a 
 
 also incorporated it in 
 
 
 
 black ribbon on wrist. 
 
 the triple oval in which 
 the three Gunnings ap- 
 pear in one frame. 
 
 
 Liotard, 1751. 
 
 Short embroidered robe, 
 made in a Turkish 
 fashion, scarf round 
 her waist, rose in her 
 bosom. 
 
 MacArdell. 
 
 Mnsenm at 
 
 Liotard. 
 
 Another of the same 
 
 
 Amsterdam. 
 
 
 with the addition of a 
 harp, and styled Hiber- 
 nia. 
 The two sisters as the 
 
 
 
 
 Unknown. 
 
 Okey . . . with these 
 lines at foot : — 
 
 
 
 Hibernian sisters. The 
 
 
 
 elder is on the left with 
 
 Hibernia long with shame 
 
 
 
 a dog in her lap, the 
 
 bebeld 
 
 
 
 younger on the right 
 
 Her favourite toasts by ours 
 
 
 
 with a fan in her hand, 
 
 excelled 
 Resolv'd t' outvie Britan- 
 
 
 
 the background a gar- 
 
 nia's Fair 
 
 
 
 den wall with Cupids. 
 
 By her own beauties, sent A 
 
 Lately boag;ht 
 
 Francis Cotes, 
 
 1. Half length (oval) 
 
 Pair. 
 MacArdell. 
 
 for the Na- 
 
 R.A., 1751. 
 
 with slashed sleeves. 
 
 This was published by 
 
 tional Gral- 
 
 
 lace cape. Hair in 
 
 Sayer, 1751, as a watch 
 paper.' 
 Ford. 
 
 lery,Dublin. 
 
 
 curls . . . very girlish. 
 
 Duke of Ar- 
 
 Cotes. 
 
 2. Half length. Hair in 
 
 gyll. Knock 
 
 
 curls with a few pearls. 
 
 
 in Mull. 
 
 
 Scarf floating. 
 
 
 
 Cotes. 
 
 3. Standing with a hat 
 on her head, her hand 
 on a figure of Cupid. 
 
 Ford. 
 
 Reproduced on page 51, by the kind permission of iloa. ^erald Ponsonby. 
 T 2 
 
276 
 
 Appendix. 
 
 Owner. 
 
 Painter, 
 
 Description. 
 
 Engraver. 
 
 
 U nk no wn. 
 
 With a lace cape close 
 
 MaoArdell, worked 
 
 over 
 
 
 but pro- 
 
 to throat, pearls in her 
 
 by Spooner. 
 
 
 
 bably Cotes. 
 
 hair. 
 
 
 
 Earl of Coven- 
 
 Hogarth. Now 
 
 Small whole length of 
 
 Never engraved. 
 
 
 try. 
 
 at Crome, 
 Lord Coven- 
 try's seat, 
 near Wor- 
 cester. 
 
 Lord and Lady Coven- 
 try standing in a gar- 
 den, on the right is 
 the Earl pointing to a 
 building in the back- 
 ground, on the left 
 Lady Coventry in a 
 white dress and flat 
 hat leans on the pedi- 
 ment of a vase, between 
 them a dog. 
 Lent by Lord Coventry 
 to the Guelph Exhibi- 
 tion. 
 
 
 
 Earl of Coven- 
 
 Gavin Hamil- 
 
 Whole length, standing 
 
 MacArdell. Only 
 
 two 
 
 try. 
 
 ton, R.A. 
 This picture 
 isatCroome, 
 set in a 
 panel, the 
 companion 
 panel hav- 
 ing a full 
 length of 
 the Duchess 
 of Argyll ; 
 both are fine 
 pictures. 
 
 on terrace.' 
 
 of these are known 
 
 
 Duke of Ham- 
 
 Gavin Hamil- 
 
 Standing head to left, 
 
 MacArdell. Only 
 
 five 
 
 ilton. 
 
 ton, R.A. 
 
 hand on the figure of 
 Cupid. 
 Half-length ; blue dress. 
 
 known. 
 
 
 Gilbert Coven- 
 
 Maurice Quin- 
 
 — 
 
 
 try, Esq. 
 
 tin de la 
 Tour. 
 
 feather or ribbon in her 
 hair. Exhibited Graf- 
 ton Gallery, 1894. 
 
 
 
 The Marquis 
 
 Sir Joshua 
 
 Half-length ; scarf over 
 
 — 
 
 
 of Lorne. 
 
 Re yn 1 d s. 
 
 shoulders; acompanion 
 
 
 
 This picture 
 
 1759. 
 
 to the Duchess of 
 
 
 
 belonged to 
 
 
 Argyll, painted at the 
 
 
 
 Mrs. Lyon, 
 
 
 same time. LadyCoven- 
 
 
 
 daughter 
 
 
 try's face bears traces 
 
 
 
 to Lady 
 
 
 of ill-health; she was 
 
 
 
 Charlotte 
 
 
 then dying. 
 
 
 
 Bury. It was 
 
 
 
 
 
 sold by Mr. 
 
 
 
 
 
 Graves, of 
 
 
 
 
 
 Pall Mall, to 
 
 
 
 
 
 Lord Lorne. 
 
 
 
 
 
 Duke of Ar- 
 
 Catherine 
 
 Hair falling over shoul- 
 
 F i nlay son. (The 
 
 gyll- 
 Inverary Cas- 
 
 Read, 1771. 
 
 ders, robe of ermine. 
 
 original is in Pastelle.) 
 
 
 pearls across the bosom. 
 
 
 
 tle. 
 
 
 This was painted many 
 
 
 
 By the kind permission of Lord Coventry this picture is reproduced on page 
 
Appendix. 
 
 277 
 
 Owner. 
 
 Painter. 
 
 Holland, 1757. 
 
 Description. 
 
 yearsafter Lady Coven- 
 try's death as a com- 
 panion to the portrait 
 of the Duchess of 
 Argyll, to whom it is 
 dedicated. It is rather 
 a formal composition. 
 This etching is very 
 rare, although it is a 
 grotesque representa- 
 tion of beauty. On the 
 back is written the 
 name of " Mr. Gulston" 
 (well known in his day 
 as a virtuoso and col- 
 lector), with the words, 
 " Given to me by Mr. 
 Bindley." 
 
 Engraver. 
 
 A portrait of Lady Coventry was published by Bowles, of Comhill, bat 
 the name of the artist is not known. Her portrait by Cotes (No. 1) was 
 copied in enamel, likewise that of the Duchess of Argyll, and is in the 
 possession of Lord Beauchamp. There is also one in the Schreiber collec- 
 tion. South Kensington Museum ; also a miniature by Gavin Hamilton is 
 worthy of mention. 
 
 ELIZABETH GUNNING, AFTERWARDS DUCHESS OF 
 HAMILTON AND ARGYLL. 
 
 Owner. 
 
 Painter. 
 
 Description. 
 
 Engraver. 
 
 - 
 
 1751. 
 
 With Lady Coventry as 
 the Hibernian Sisters. 
 
 Okey. 
 
 — 
 
 Unknown. 
 
 A very early one, with 
 
 
 
 
 1751. 
 
 pearls in her hair and 
 a wand or crook in her 
 hand. The expression 
 is altogether different 
 from the later portraits. 
 
 
 The Duke of 
 
 Cotes. 1752. 
 
 Half-length, in oval 
 
 MacArdell. 
 
 Argyll. The 
 
 
 frame looking to front, 
 
 
 picture is at 
 
 
 hair plain, with curls, 
 
 
 Knock in 
 
 
 bodice with ribbons, 
 
 
 Mull. 
 
 
 ermine robe. Pearls 
 fastening dress on 
 shoulder. Scraped un- 
 derneath, " The late 
 Miss Gunning." 
 
 
 — 
 
 Cotes. 
 
 With a small hat on the 
 
 Sayer. Reproduced as a 
 
 
 
 side of her head. 
 
 watch paper. 
 
278 
 
 Appendix. 
 
 Owner. 
 
 Painter. 
 
 Description. 
 
 Engraver. 
 
 
 Cotes. 
 
 Another almost similar. 
 
 Houston. 
 
 " 
 
 Cotes. 
 
 Another similar, without 
 pearls, and the dress 
 edged with fur. 
 
 Houston. 
 
 — 
 
 Cotes. 
 
 Another of the same. 
 
 Millar. 
 
 — 
 
 Cotes. 
 
 A nother similar to No. 3. 
 
 Purcell. 
 
 
 
 Cotes. 
 
 Another similar to No. 1. 
 
 Brookshaw. 
 
 
 
 This plate is identical 
 
 Houston composed a 
 
 
 
 with MacArdell's, the 
 
 plate which presented 
 
 
 
 position being reversed. 
 
 three ovals of the 
 sisters in one frame. 
 Lady Coventry after 
 Liotard is to the left. 
 The Duchess of Hamil- 
 ton after Cotes, No. 1, 
 in the centre. Miss 
 Kitty Cunning also 
 after Cotes to the 
 right. Above the por- 
 traits are the words 
 " Utruisque generis 
 opere Johannes Gun- 
 ning, A.M." Under- 
 neath each portrait 
 are lines of poor dog- 
 gerel in praise of the 
 sister Graces. At 
 the foot of plate a 
 poem " Gratitude," in- 
 scribed to the Earl of 
 Harrington by John 
 Gunning, two letters, 
 etc. There are only 
 two of this plate. 
 
 Earl of Coven- 
 
 G. A. Hamil- 
 
 Standing on terrace with 
 
 Faber. Another en- 
 
 t r y. The 
 
 ton. ' 
 
 her hand on the head 
 
 graving of same men- 
 
 picture is at 
 
 
 of a greyhound. Com- 
 
 tioned by Bromly. 
 
 Croome.asa 
 
 
 panion to the picture 
 
 
 companion 
 
 
 at Croome of Lady 
 
 
 to the pic- 
 
 
 Coventry by Hamilton.' 
 
 
 ture of Lady 
 
 
 
 
 Coventry by 
 
 
 
 
 Gavin Ham- 
 
 
 
 
 ilton. 
 
 
 
 
 Ladv North- 
 
 Sir Joshua 
 
 Whole length. This pic- 
 
 Spicer. 
 
 wick. 
 
 Reynolds. 
 
 ture was exhibited in 
 the large room, Strand, 
 1760. It was in Lord 
 Gwydyr's collection, 
 and was sold to Lord 
 Northwiok in 1829. 
 She wears a magnifi- 
 cent costume. 
 
 
 ' Reproduced as Frontispiece from original engraving in the Iveagh collection, 
 National Gallery, Dublin. 
 
Appendix. 
 
 279 
 
 Owner. 
 
 Painter. 
 
 Description. 
 
 Engraver 
 
 
 The Duke of 
 
 Allan Ram- 
 
 In a blue dress— a hard, 
 
 _ 
 
 
 St. Albans. 
 
 say, 1763. 
 
 unpleasant portrait ex- 
 hibited (irafton Gal- 
 lery, 1894. 
 
 
 
 The Dnke of 
 
 Catherine 
 
 As Duchess of Argyll; in 
 
 Finlayson. 
 
 
 Argyll. It is 
 
 Eead. 
 
 a high cap, ribbon tied 
 
 
 
 at Inverary. 
 
 
 under her chin. 
 
 
 
 
 C. Read. 
 
 Another, similar, only 
 
 Laurie. The 
 
 original 
 
 
 
 smaller. 
 
 picture is in Pastelle. 
 
 The Duke of 
 
 Angelica 
 
 Representing the 
 
 — 
 
 
 Argyll. 
 
 Kauffmann. 
 This picture 
 was consum- 
 ed in a fire 
 which took 
 place at In- 
 
 Duchess with an infant 
 on her knee, holding a 
 dove. Her little boy, 
 afterwards sixth Duke 
 of Argyll, stands beside 
 her. 
 
 
 
 SirToUemache 
 
 verary. 
 
 Miniature. Exhibited 
 
 — 
 
 
 Sinclair. 
 
 
 Grafton Gallery, 1894. 
 
 
 
 L im e s de n 
 
 _ 
 
 Miniature. Exhibited at 
 
 Plimer. 
 
 
 P r p ert, 
 
 
 Grafton Gallery, 1894. 
 
 
 
 Esq. 
 
 
 
 
 
 Unknown. 
 
 Hamilton 
 Palace Col- 
 lection. 
 
 CATHERINE GUNNING. 
 
 {Afterwards Mrs. Travis.) 
 
 Cotes.' Portrait, with hair plain, 
 
 girlishly dressed, rib- 
 bons on bodice. 
 
 Unknown. Another portrait. 
 
 Houston. 
 
 Unknown. This engra- 
 ving is in the posses- 
 sion of Arthur Kimber, 
 Esq., Roland Gardens. 
 
 LADY ELIZABETH HAMILTON. AFTERWARDS COUNTESS 
 OF DERBY. 
 
 (Daughter to 6th Duke of Hamilton.) 
 As a child, 1758. 
 
 The Dnke of 
 Argyll. Sold 
 in 1883 to 
 W. King, a 
 dealer. 
 
 The Earl of 
 Derby. 
 
 The Earl of 
 Derby. 
 
 lir Joshua 
 Reynolds. 
 
 Zucchi. 
 
 Angelica 
 EaufTmann. 
 
 Dancing a Minuet, 1774. 
 
 As Countess of Derby, 
 with the 12th Earl and 
 their infant son. The 
 Earl is in a Spanish 
 costume, Lady Derby 
 in a blue dress. 
 
 Reproduced on page 98. 
 
28o 
 
 Appendix. 
 
 Owner. 
 
 The Earl of 
 Derby. 
 
 Sold in 1869 by 
 G, F. Sey- 
 mour to An- 
 thony for 
 
 £77. 
 
 Painter. 
 
 Sir Joshua 
 Eeynolds. . 
 
 Romney. 
 
 Description. 
 
 Placing a wreath on a 
 term of Hymen. Ma- 
 caw on perch. Ex- 
 hibited at the Eoyal 
 Academy, 1777. 
 
 This picture has dis- 
 appeared. It is not in 
 the Knowsley collec- 
 tion, and it is sup- 
 posed that it was de- 
 stroyed by the Earl in 
 a fit of jealous fury.' 
 
 In a simple dress of 
 white ; hair coiled on 
 top of her head ; 
 wooded landscape in 
 background. 
 
 Chaloner Smith says, 
 " It is interesting to 
 compare the styles of 
 the two great painters 
 in this picture of the 
 same lady ; one in a 
 blaze of colour, sur- 
 rounded by all acces- 
 sories; the other pure 
 and simple, with no 
 object to draw atten- 
 tion to her beauty." 
 Curiously enough this 
 lovely picture is like- 
 wise exiled from 
 Knowsley. 
 
 Engraver. 
 
 Dickinson and Watson. 
 
 Dean, 1780. 
 
 LADY AUGUSTA CLAVERING. 
 (Daughter to John, !jth Dulce of Argyll.) 
 
 Duke of Argyll, 
 
 Opie. 
 
 Classical. 
 
 Not engraved. 
 
 Inverary. 
 
 
 
 
 — 
 
 Angelica 
 KauSman. 
 
 H. L. in profile. 
 
 — 
 
 H. H. Almack, 
 
 John Hedges 
 
 As a "St. James's 
 
 Bartolozzi. 
 
 Esq., SufiFolk. 
 
 Benwell. 
 
 Beauty." Exhibited at 
 the Grafton Gallery, 
 1794. 
 
 This picture is the 
 subject of a contro- 
 troversy as to its 
 
 
 
 
 "colloquial nickname." 
 Mr. Almack, the owner 
 of the picture, has the 
 
 
 ' Reproduced on page 90, from the original engraving in the possession of 
 Messrs. Colnaghi, Pall Mall. 
 
Appendix. 
 
 281 
 
 Owner. 
 
 Painter. 
 
 Description. 
 
 family tradition handed 
 down to him by his 
 father, who received 
 the portrait from Lady 
 Charlotte Bary, sister 
 to Lady Augusta Clav- 
 ering. On the other 
 hand, Mr. Tuer (an 
 excellent authority) 
 maintains that the 
 original of the " St. 
 James' Beauty" was one 
 of the five beautiful Miss 
 Boroughs, her sister be- 
 ingthemodelof the"St. 
 Giles' Beauty." Con- 
 flicting evidence is hard 
 to sift : neither is the 
 matter of much import- 
 ance. The picture is 
 undoubtedly like the 
 Bartolozzi engraving.' 
 
 Engraver. 
 
 DOROTHEA MONROE. 
 
 Given by the 
 late Marquis 
 of Ely to the 
 National 
 Gallery, 
 Dublin. 
 
 National Por- 
 trait Gal- 
 lery. Bought 
 at Lord 
 Ely's sale, 
 1888. 
 
 U n kn own. 
 Sold at Lord 
 Ely's sale, 
 
 A n g e li c £ 
 Kauffmann. 
 
 Angelica 
 Kauffmann." 
 
 Large family group of 
 the Earl and Countess 
 of Ely, with their 
 niece Dolly seated at 
 the harpsichord, and 
 Angelica Kauffmann 
 standing. 
 
 Half-length' of Dorothea 
 Monroe. Blue shawl 
 across shoulders. A 
 very stiff portrait. 
 
 Another half-length. 
 
 Never engraved. 
 
 Not engraved. 
 
 Given by the 
 Earl of 
 Blessington 
 to the Na- 
 tional Gal- 
 lery, Lon- 
 don. 
 
 THE MISS MONTGOMERYS. 
 
 Cousens. 
 
 Sir Joshua 
 Keynolds.^ 
 
 The three Graces — 
 Anne Lady Townshend, 
 Elizabeth Lady Mount- 
 joy, Barbara Mrs. 
 Beresford. 
 
 ^ Reproduced by the kind permission of the owner, Mr. Almack, of Long Melford, 
 Suffolk. 
 
 ^ Reproduced on page 143 from a drawing made by the late Henry Doyle, 
 director of the National Gallery, Dublin. 
 
 ^ Sir Joshua, writing to Luke Gardiner, says : — 
 
 " Sir, — I intended long ago to have returned thanks for the agreeable employ- 
 
282 
 
 Appendix. 
 
 Owner. 
 
 Painter. 
 
 Description. 
 
 Engraver. 
 
 Captain G. L. 
 
 Eomney. 
 
 Anne, Marchioness of 
 
 
 H If or d. 
 
 
 Townshend, in a dress 
 
 
 This picture 
 
 
 of old gold coloured 
 
 
 belonged to 
 
 
 Brocade, her hair pow- 
 
 
 Sir C. Lamb, 
 
 
 dered and crimped, 
 
 
 and was sold 
 
 
 two long curls, the 
 
 
 in 1860 to a 
 
 
 eyes of a dark grey ; 
 
 
 dealer, Wil- 
 
 
 a sweet matronly ex- 
 
 
 liam King. 
 
 
 pression. Exhibited at 
 the Grafton Gallery, 
 1894.' 
 
 
 Duke of Leeds.' 
 
 — 
 
 A miniature of Anne, 
 Marchioness of Town- 
 shend. Exhibited at 
 the Grafton Gallery, 
 1894. 
 
 — 
 
 The Marquis of 
 
 Sir Joshua 
 
 Anne, Marchioness of 
 
 
 Townshend. 
 
 Reynolds. 
 
 Townshend, in a white 
 dress, leaning on a 
 pillar. A fine pic- 
 ture. 
 
 
 Earl of Home. 
 
 Angelica 
 Kauffmann. 
 
 Portrait. 
 
 - 
 
 
 
 _ 
 
 Elizabeth Montgomery, 
 
 Walker's Hibernian 
 
 
 
 Lady Mountjoy, in 
 
 Magazine. 
 
 
 
 the character of Lady 
 
 
 
 
 Macbeth. 
 
 
 " 
 
 Gainsborougb. 
 
 Barbara, Hon. Mrs. 
 Beresford. 
 
 Jones. 
 
 ment in which you have engaged me, and likewise for the very obliging manner 
 in which the favour is conferred; but unfortunately after the heads were finished 
 I was enticed down to Petworth, and from there to Oxford, from whence I am 
 but just returned, so that this is the only quiet moment I have had for this month 
 past. Though it has been a little delayed by these holidays, it will not on the 
 whole fare worse for it, as I am returned with a very keen appetite for work. The 
 picture is the great objectof my mind at present. You have already been informed, I 
 have no doubt, of the subject we have chosen — the adorning a term of Hymen 
 with festoons of flowers. This afi"ords sufficient employment to the figures, and 
 gives an opportunity of introducing a variety of graceful historical attitudes. I 
 have every inducement to exert myself on this occasion, both from the confidence 
 you have placed in me, and from the subjects you have presented to me, which are 
 such as I am never likely to meet with again so long as I live, and I flatter myself 
 that however inferior the picture may be to what I wish it, or what it ought to be, 
 it will be the last picture I ever painted." 
 
 In spite of Sir Joshua's endeavours to place on canvas a record of these Irish 
 beauties, he was considered to have failed in expressing the peculiar character of 
 the beauty of the sisters. 
 
 ' In 1882 a replica of this picture was exhibited at the Old Masters' Exhibition, 
 Royal Academy. Owner, Sir Graham Montgomery. 
 
Appendix, 
 MRS. WOFFINGTON. 
 
 283 
 
 Owner. 
 
 Painter. 
 
 Description. 
 
 Engraver. 
 
 The Marquis 
 
 Hogarth. 
 
 Waagen says of this 
 
 _ 
 
 of L a n s- 
 
 
 picture that " it has a 
 
 
 d' 'vne, Bo- 
 
 
 singular liveliness of 
 
 
 wiod. 
 
 
 conception, great 
 warmth and trans- 
 parency of colouring, 
 although somewhat 
 empty in the forms." 
 
 
 Garrick Club. 
 
 Hogarth. 
 
 On a couch. This pic- 
 ture came from Charles 
 Mathew's collection. 
 
 — 
 
 
 
 Mercier. 
 
 Portrait. 
 
 — 
 
 
 
 Wilson. 
 
 
 
 — 
 
 Sir Charles 
 
 Hogarth. 
 
 This was originally in 
 
 — 
 
 Tennant. 
 
 
 Mr. Addington's col- 
 lection, but was sold at 
 Messrs. Christie's in 
 1886, and exhibited by 
 Sir Charles Tennant at 
 the K.A., 1888. 
 
 
 National Por- 
 
 Arthur Pond. 
 
 Half-length. Thisremark- 
 
 — 
 
 trait Gal- 
 
 
 able picture represents 
 
 
 lery. 
 
 
 her in the last stage of 
 illness and decay, in 
 profile: lying in bed to- 
 wards the left, wearing 
 a lace cap, and resting 
 her head on a pillow. 
 Her eyes have a pecu- 
 liar expression. Her 
 face is pale, save where 
 the rouge makes a 
 brilliant spot. Her lips 
 are livid. The quilt is 
 white satin. The crim- 
 son curtains of the bed 
 are the background. 
 This picture, which 
 belonged to Sir Theo- 
 dore Martin, was given 
 by him to the Portrait 
 Gallery. It must have 
 been the last picture 
 painted by Pond, as he 
 died 1758. 
 
 
 
 Ai-thur Fond. 
 
 A portrait painted in 
 1746, when she was 
 barely twenty. It is 
 quite unlike her later 
 portraits, and wears an 
 innocent expression. 
 The lips curve in a 
 remarkable manner. 
 
 Brooke. 
 
284 
 
 Appendix. 
 
 Owner. 
 
 Painter. 
 
 Description. 
 
 Engraver. 
 
 Thiswasinthe 
 
 A. Pond. 
 
 A later portrait, with 
 
 MacArdell. 
 
 possessionof 
 
 
 lace cap and tucker, 
 
 
 the late Earl 
 
 
 white satin bodice. 
 
 
 of Charle- 
 
 
 
 
 mont. 
 
 
 
 
 — 
 
 A. Pond. 
 
 Same in a lace cap, side 
 face. 
 
 Freeman. 
 
 — 
 
 A. Pond. 
 
 Same, holding a dog on 
 her lap. 
 
 — 
 
 
 A. Pond. 
 
 Same, with a wreath of 
 flowers. 
 
 These portraits were 
 painted by Pond for 
 Provost Andrews. At 
 his death they were 
 sold by auction. 
 
 Millar. 
 
 
 Eccard. 
 
 Full face. Hair upon 
 shoulders. Holds a 
 large volume. 
 
 Faber. 
 
 Sir Henry Bel- 
 
 — 
 
 The same, only reversed. 
 
 Marchand. 
 
 1 i n gham, 
 
 
 This portrait came into 
 
 
 Bart., Dun- 
 
 
 the family through the 
 
 
 any, c 0. 
 
 
 marriage of Miss Chol- 
 
 
 Louth, Ire- 
 
 
 mondeley with Sir Wil- 
 
 
 land. 
 
 
 liam Bellingham, Bart. 
 There is a portrait of 
 Miss Cholmondeley by 
 Cotes at Bellingham 
 Castle. 
 
 
 European 
 
 — 
 
 With a veil, and holding 
 
 
 
 Magazine. 
 
 
 a wand in her hand. 
 
 
 — 
 
 Hayley. 
 
 As Mrs. Ford. 
 
 Ford. 
 
 — 
 
 Blocker. 
 
 As Phoebe. 
 
 Miller. 
 
 
 — 
 
 Watch paper as Mrs. 
 Ford. 
 
 Sayer. 
 
 ELIZABETH LA TOUCHE, AFTERWARDS COUNTESS OF 
 LANESBOROUGH. 
 
 Howe. 
 
 Elizabeth la Touche, 
 Countess of Lanes- 
 borough. 
 
 Bartolozzi. 
 
 ANN LUTTRELL, AFTERWARDS DUCHESS OF CUMBERLAND. 
 
 The Queen, 
 Windsor 
 
 Castle. 
 
 Gainsborough. 
 
 Three full- length figures, 
 the Duke and Duchess 
 walking, Lady Elizabeth 
 Luttrell seated on a gar- 
 den chair in the back- 
 ground. The Duchess 
 wears evening dress, 
 but has thrown a light 
 scarf over her shoul- 
 ders. She likewise has 
 a flat garden hat on her 
 head, tied under her 
 chin with a narrow 
 velvet ribbon. She 
 
 V. Green. 
 
Appendix, 
 
 285 
 
 Lady Wilmot 
 Horton. 
 
 The Queen, 
 Buckingham 
 Palace. 
 
 Sir Joshua 
 Reynolds. 
 
 GaiDBborongh 
 
 Description. 
 
 on the Duke's 
 arm, her face is turned 
 to the spectator; the 
 Duke, a dapper little 
 man in a green coat, is 
 looking at her with 
 admiration. She is 
 considerably taller 
 than he is. Lady Eliza- 
 beth on her garden 
 seat has rather the air 
 of the wicked Otrude 
 in Lohengrin, her face 
 wears a malevolent ex- 
 pression. She looks 
 years older than the 
 Duchess. This picture 
 was exhibited at the 
 Royal Academy, 1777. 
 This year exhibited at 
 the Old Masters' Exhi- 
 bition. 
 Whole length. Standing 
 dressed in a court robe 
 trimmed with ermine ; 
 handsome jewels. A 
 queenly figure. Exhib- 
 ited with a portrait of 
 the Duke at R.A., 1773. 
 
 Whole length. Head by 
 Gainsborough, figure 
 by Cosway. 
 
 Engraver. 
 
 Watson. There is a 
 mezzotint of the Duch- 
 ess published by Bryer 
 to which a curious 
 story is said to attach. 
 In 1766 Sir Joshua 
 painted the portrait of 
 Lady Arundel, wife to 
 the 8th Lord Arundel of 
 Wardour. When it was 
 engraved the plate was 
 not satisfactory and 
 only one impression was 
 taken. The head was 
 then taken out and that 
 of the Duchess of Cum- 
 berland substituted. 
 Bromley, who tells the 
 story, adds, this en- 
 graving is rare and 
 unique. The best autho- 
 rities on this subject are 
 of opinion that the sub- 
 stitution never could 
 have taken place, for 
 the reason that it would 
 have been impossible 
 to have concealed the 
 joining. It is likewise 
 curious that this rare 
 and unique engi-avingis 
 notknown to collectors. 
 
286 
 
 Appendix. 
 
 Owner. 
 
 !ir Simeon 
 Stuart, of 
 C battle, re- 
 presentatiye 
 of the Car- 
 fa am p t on 
 Peerage. 
 
 Lord Wenlock, 
 
 Gainsboroagh, 
 
 GainBborough, 
 
 Cosway. 
 
 Romney. 
 
 Description. 
 
 Half-length. Thi8 pic- 
 ture conveys better 
 than any other the fas- 
 cination which was the 
 Duchess's charm. She 
 is simply dressed, the 
 bodice is low, the neck 
 lovely, but the arms 
 too long. 
 
 Half-length, similar to 
 above. 
 
 Full-length, holding a 
 wreath of flowers. 
 Painted in 1784. 
 
 Balf-length. In any of 
 the published lists of 
 Romney's paintings 
 the name of the Duch- 
 ess of Cumberland does 
 not appear. In a re- 
 cent life of the artist 
 by Mrs. Gamlin this 
 portrait is mentioned. 
 The fact that it was 
 painted in 1786, the 
 year that the Duchess 
 visited Naples, would 
 lead to the supposition 
 that it was suggested 
 by Lady Hamilton, as a 
 help to Romney, who 
 had never received any 
 royal patronage. 
 
 Engraver. 
 
 Sherwin. 
 
 ELIZA FARREN, AFTERWARDS COUNTESS OF DERBY. 
 (J.S Mhs, Farren.) 
 
 — 
 
 Zoffany. 
 
 1. Hermione in " The 
 Winter's Tale." 
 
 Fisher. 
 
 
 — 
 
 Zoflfany. 
 
 2. In a print with King. 
 
 Fisher. 
 
 
 
 
 — 
 
 3. Beatrice in " Much 
 
 Walker's 
 
 Hibernian 
 
 Lord 
 Ronald Gower. 
 
 
 Ado About Nothing." 
 
 Magazine. 
 
 
 J. Downham. 
 Humphrey. 
 
 4. Large oval. 
 
 5. Miniature. 
 
 — 
 
 
 Earl of Wilton. 
 
 Sir Thomas 
 
 6. Whole length, walk- 
 
 Bartolozzi. 
 
 
 Lawrence. 
 
 ing on a terrace with 
 
 
 
 
 
 mufi' and tippet. 1792. 
 
 
 
 Painted for 
 
 Sir Thomas 
 Lav. rence. 
 
 7. Half - lergtb, very 
 beautiful. 
 
 Bartolozzi. 
 
 
 Mrs. Farren, 
 
 
 
 
 
 mother of 
 
 
 
 
 
 the actress. 
 
 
 
 
 
 Now in the 
 
 
 
 
 
 possession of 
 
 
 
 
 
 Wentworth 
 
 
 
 
 
 Beaumont, 
 
 
 
 
 
 Esq. 
 
 
 
 
 
Appendix. 
 
 287 
 
 OwDer. 
 
 Earl of Derby, 
 
 S. Lumsden 
 
 Propert. 
 Earlof Wharn- 
 
 cliffe. 
 
 Painter. 
 
 After Law- 
 rence. 
 Nixon. 
 
 Cosway. 
 
 Description. 
 
 8. Whole length. Copy 1 
 of No. 6. 1803. 
 
 9. Miniature. 
 
 10. Miniature. 
 
 Engrarer. 
 
 Bartolozzi. 
 
 HONOURABLE MRS. BERESFORD. 
 
 Barre Beres- 
 ford. 
 
 Eomney. 
 
 Portrait. 
 
 Jones. 
 
 1 A i^eplica of this picture belonged to Mr. Grant, and was sold at Christie' 
 June 27, I8G0, to Mr. Smith's commission agent, for 79 guineas. 
 
AUTHORITIES CONSULTED. 
 
 Autobiography of Mrs. Delaney. 
 Autobiography of Aun Bellamy. 
 Barnard's " Ketrospections of the Stage." 
 Barratariana. 
 Ballads of the day. 
 Bowden's " Life of Mrs. Inchbold." 
 Chambers^ Journal for 1846. 
 Criticisms by William Hazlett. 
 Cabinets of George III. 
 Dublin, description of the City. 
 Dublin, Memoirs of. 
 Duhlin Magazine. 
 Dublin City. 
 Dublin in an Uproar. 
 Bnhlin Monthly. 
 
 Fitzgerald's "Kings and Queens." 
 Fitzgerald's " Royal Dukes." 
 Fitzgerald's "Life of Garrick." 
 Fitzgerald's " Life of George IV." 
 Fitzpatrick's "Before the Union." 
 Fitzpatrick's " Sham Squire." 
 Fitzpatrick's " Secret Service of Pat." 
 Fitzgerald Molloy's "Life of Peg Woffington. 
 Gilbert's " Histoi-y of Dublin." 
 Genest's " History of the Stage." 
 Grattan's Life and Times. 
 Gunning Documents, by George Gunning. 
 Gronow's Reminiscences. 
 Gunning's Pamphlets and Poems. 
 Gunning Novels. 
 
 Hitchcock's " History of the Stage." 
 Hibernian Cresses. 
 Horace Walpole's Letters. 
 Irish Builder. 
 
 Illustrious Irishwomen, by Owen Blackburne, 
 Kilkenny Theatricals. 
 Lemarchant's "Life of George III." 
 Leland's " History of Ireland." 
 Lecky's " History of Ireland." 
 Maxwell's " History of the Irish Rebellion." 
 Macaulay's " History of England." 
 Miscellanea Nova, by Samuel Whyte. 
 Memoirs of George III. Doran. 
 Memoirs of George III. Horace Walpole. 
 Monthly Mirror. 
 National Biography, Dictionary of. 
 
Appendix. 289 
 
 Ottway's " Sketches." 
 Petronius Arbiter. 
 Phelan's " History of the Clinrch." 
 Sheridan's Life. 
 Swift's Pamphlets. 
 Tate Wilkinson's Memoirs. 
 The Theatre, by Samuel Whyte. 
 Testimony of Truth, old pamphlet. 
 Victor's " History of the Irish Stage." 
 Wraxall's Memoirs. 
 Walker's Hibernian Magazine. 
 Walpole's Letters, etc. 
 
 White's Club, by the Honourable A. Bourke. 
 Also old Pamphlets, Ballads, and Letters. 
 Articles from Harper's, Scribner's, and Duhlin University Magazines, Colburn's 
 Magazine, Hamilton MS., and information from private sources. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Act, Royal Marriage, 216, 218, 219 
 
 Act, The, 224. 
 
 Adam, 204. 
 
 Adam, Robert, 85. 
 
 Adam brothers, 85, 89. 
 
 Adam Houses, 44. 
 
 Adam and Eve, 135. 
 
 Admiral Keppel, 91. 
 
 Aldborongh House, 204. 
 
 Allen, Carter, 189. 
 
 Allen, Miss, 65. 
 
 Alley, Smock, 21, 124. 
 
 All the Year Round, 138. 
 
 Almack, 3Ir., 116. 
 
 Ambassador of Morocco, 66. 
 
 Ambrose, Eleanor, 14—28. 
 
 Ambrose, More O'Perrall, 28. 
 
 America, 86. 
 
 Andrews, Provost, 134. 149, 151, 155. 
 
 Andromache, 5, 126, 132, 139. 
 
 Angelica Kauffmann, 143, 151.' 
 
 Angelo, 129. 
 
 Anne Granville, 3. 
 
 Anne, Queen, 26. ■ 
 
 Apollo, 13. 
 
 Arcadia, 82. 
 
 Ardee, 5, 195. 
 
 Ardo, 237, 238, 239, 240, 241, 243 
 
 243, 244, 245. 
 Argyll House, S3, 85, 88, 89, 106, 107. 
 
 109. 
 Athcarne Castle, 196. 
 Athleague, 33, 108. 
 
 B. 
 
 Baddelet, 5, 263. 
 Balcony room, 239. 
 Ballads, 67, 114. 
 Ballma, 18. 
 Banks, Peggy, 46. 
 Banks, Sir John, 204. 
 Banquo, 177. 
 
 Barataria, 150, 151, 16 !. 
 
 Barnard, 248. 
 
 Barradotte, 10. 
 
 Beatrice, 130. 
 
 Beauclerk, Topham, 48. 
 
 Beau Nash, 63. 
 
 Beaux Walk, 203. 
 
 Beef-eaters' Hall, 42. 
 
 Beggar's Opera, 119, 201. 
 
 Belfast, 5. 
 
 Belfield, Barcn, 7. 
 
 Belgravia, 50. 
 
 Bellamy, George Ann, 21, 38, 39, 40 
 
 41, 100, 126, 132. 
 Bellingham, Sir William, 127. 
 
 Colonel, 196. 
 
 Castle, 127. 
 
 Belvedere House, 9, 13. 
 Belview, 203, 204. 
 
 " Benjamin Backbites," 54. 
 Bentley, 166. 
 Beresfords, the, 186. 
 
 John Claudius, 170, 179, 180, 
 
 182, 183, 184, 186, 189, 190, 191. 
 
 Bank, 184. 
 
 Crescent, ii. 
 
 Marcus, 182. 
 
 ■ Place, ih. 
 
 Berkeley Square, 211. 
 
 Berry, Miss, 49, 94, 105, 111, 113. 
 
 Bertie, Sir R., 63. 
 
 Betty, 50. 
 
 Bicester, 93. 
 
 Billingsgate, 234. 
 
 Billy and Bally, 65. 
 
 Bishops, the, 224. 
 
 Miss, 46. 
 
 Black African, 237. 
 Blacker, Colonel, 198. 
 Blackwater, 237. 
 Blain, Donald, 178. 
 Bland, Sir John, 63. 
 Blenheim, 106, lOS, 110. 
 Blessington Street, 173. 
 Blight, General, 156. 
 Blois, 194. 
 
292 
 
 Index. 
 
 Bloomabury lot, 87. 
 
 Boadicea, 113. 
 
 Borough, 193. 
 
 Bosoawen, Mrs., 101. 
 
 Boswell, 84, 85. 
 
 Bouverie, Mrs., 49. 
 
 Bowles, Jolin, 99. 
 
 Bow Street, 125. 
 
 Bowke, MiBs, 39. 
 
 Bowen, Captain and Mrs., 106—110. 
 
 Boyne, battle of, 14, 16, 20, 194, 
 
 195—198. 
 Boyne, Hero of, 15. 
 
 Society, 20. 
 
 Boys, Protestant, 198. 
 Brandenburger, 191. 
 Brent, Miss. 97. 
 Brigade, Irish, 194, 197. 
 Brionne, Madame, 66. 
 Brittain Street, 36, 37, 38. 
 Brook, crossing the, 127. 
 Brooke, Parson, 69, 76. 
 Brooke, Mrs., 166. 
 Brownlow, 167. 
 Burgess, Mr., 79. 
 Burgoyne, General, 86, 87. 
 Burgundy, 18. 
 Burke, 219. 
 
 Burney, 92, 93, 127, 227, 268. 
 Bushe, Letty, 3, 4. 
 Buticarney, George, 151. 
 Butler, Mrs., 42, 125. 
 
 €^SAR, Colonel, 137, 138. 
 
 Julius, 131. 
 
 Calonne, 194. 
 Calvin, 194. 
 Campbell, Mary, 181. 
 
 of Mamure, 81. 
 
 Candour, Mrs., 263. 
 
 Canterbury, Archbishop of, 223, 224. 
 
 Canning, 26. 
 
 Caravats, the, 237. 
 
 Carew, 237. 
 
 Carhampton, 143, 211, 212. 
 
 Carlton House, 212. 
 
 Caroline of Anspach, 81. 
 
 Carrickfergus, 195. 
 
 Carton, 163, 167, 201. 
 
 Cassells, 141. 
 
 Castle Bellinghara, 127, 196. 
 
 Dublin, 13, 26, 133. 
 
 Lacken, 25. 
 
 Leixlip, 167. 
 
 Lismore, 235. 
 
 Eathfarnham, 152, 155, 163, 
 
 205. 
 
 Castle Street, 188, 202. 
 Castries, Adele, 241. 
 
 Alix de, ih. 
 
 Comte de, ih. 
 
 Duchesse de. 242, 244. 
 
 Catholic, 14, 16, 19,20, 27, 116, 179, 
 
 188, 194, 195. 
 Catholicism, 135. 
 Cato, 168. 
 Catton Park, 213. 
 Causeway, 111. 
 Cavan, 135, 142, 143. 
 Cavendish, Miss, 177. 
 Celia, 137. 
 Celt, 1. 
 
 Chaigneau, 200. 
 Chalk Farm, 159. 
 Chambers' Journal, 7. 
 Chapel, Romish, 202. 
 Chappel, 202. 
 Charlotte, Queen, 225. 
 Charles Ed. Comte d'Albanie, 192. 
 Chatham, 26. 
 Chester, ih. 
 
 Chief Justice Boroughs, 250. 
 Cholraondeley, Mrs., 134, 137, 138. 
 
 Rev. Robert, 126, 127. 
 
 ■ Horace, 138. 
 
 Churchill, 104, 156. 
 Church of England, 250. 
 Church Temporalities, 142. 
 Churchyard, 138. 
 Cibber, Mrs., 251. 
 Clarendon Street, 135. 
 Clavering, Mr., 93. 
 Cleopatra, 132, 217. 
 Clive, Mrs., 251. 
 
 Club, Beefsteak, 133. 
 Cofifey, 120. 
 
 Coghlans, the, 230—246. 
 Coghlan, Mrs., 237. 
 
 Jeremiah, 231, 234. 
 
 Gillick, 238. 
 
 Miss, ih. 
 
 Cole, 138. 
 
 College Green, 14, 118. 
 Comedy, 130. 
 Commander-in-Chief, 148. 
 Commons, House of, 3, 147, 157, 158, 
 
 160. 
 Comus, Masque of, 163, 206. 
 Conscious Lovers, 120. 
 Cotes, Francis, 151. 
 Council, 126. 
 Country girl, 122. 
 Court, 217, 222. 
 Comely, Mrs., 174. 
 Coventry, Countess of, 57 — 79. 
 Cumberland, Duchess of, 213 — 
 228. 
 
Index ^ 
 
 Dainty Lady, 139. 
 
 Daly, 188. 
 
 Daly's Club, 176. 
 
 Damer, Mrs., 49, 94, 111 
 
 Damon, 123. 
 
 " Dangerous Papist," the, 14—29. 
 
 Daniel O'Connell, 15. 
 
 Darnley, 126. 
 
 Da vies, Sir John, 158. 
 
 Davis, 234. 
 
 Dean Swift, 4, 16, 24. 
 
 Death, 137. 
 
 Decamp, Miss, 267. 
 
 Defender, the, 15. 
 
 Dejanira, 128. 
 
 Delany, Mrs., 4, 8, 10, 43-6, 59, 62, 
 64, 88, 119, 130, 131, 134, 166, 
 171, 214, 217. 
 
 Delias, from Drury Lane, 49. 
 
 Delville, 124. 
 
 Denmark, 2. 
 
 Denmark House, 97. 
 Derbyshire, 213. 
 
 Des Vceux, 192. 
 
 Dettingen, 44, 146. 
 
 Devil to Pay, 120. 
 
 Dewar, Miss, 171. 
 
 Dewes, 214. 
 
 Diamond, the, 16. 
 
 Diana, 13. 
 
 Dickens, Dr., 34. 
 
 Distressed Mother, the, 5. 
 
 Divorced, the, 94. 
 
 Doctor Delany, 3, 6. 
 
 Doctor Johnson, 84, 85. 
 
 Doctor Madden, 20. 
 
 Doctor Sacheverell, 57. 
 
 Doctor Tajlor, 72. 
 
 Doctor Wall. 70. 
 
 Doctor Whalley, 101. 
 
 Doctors' Commons, 75. 
 
 Douglas Case, 85-8. 
 
 Douglas's Scottish Peerage, 81. 
 
 Dowden, Mr., 15. 
 
 Drink, 34. 
 
 Dromana, 240. 
 
 Drury Lane, 40, 86, 129, 130, 261, 
 
 262. 
 Dnberly, Mr., 15. 
 Dukes — 
 
 Argyll, 72, 80, 81, 88, 89, 103-9-10. 
 Bridgwater, 81. 
 Cumberland, 213—228. 
 Devonshire, 133, 236, 245. 
 Dorset, 119, 132-3-6, 144, 259, 2G0. 
 Gloucester, 219, 221, 223, 224, 225. 
 Leinster, 141, 201. 
 
 Marlborough, 102, 103, 104, 105 
 108. ' 
 
 Eichmoud, 257, 258. 
 Duchesses — 
 
 Ancaster, 49, 84, 93. 
 
 Argyll, 80-95. 
 
 Bedford, 47, 65, 87, 103, 109, 111. 
 
 Cumberland, 213—228. 
 
 Gloucester, 219, 221, 223, 224 2''5 
 
 Hamilton, 68, 70, 71. ' ~ ' 
 
 Kingston, 46. 
 
 Marlborough,49— 102,103,106, 107 
 Portland, 64. 
 Eichmond, 257, 258. 
 Somerset, 45. 
 
 Eagle Tavern, 80. 
 
 Eason, 204. 
 
 Edinburgh, 3. 
 
 Edward V., 252. 
 
 Egypt, 232. 
 
 Eleanor Ambrose, 14, 28. 
 
 Eliza, 235. 
 
 Elizabeth, Duchess of Hamilton 
 
 and Argyll, 80, 95. 
 Elizabeth, Queen, 228. 
 Elvira, 261. 
 Ely Place, 160. 
 
 House, ih. 
 
 Emma Hart, 94. 
 Empress' Flag, 252. 
 England, 5, 19, 24, 81, 84, 224 
 English, 136. 
 
 Garrison, 1. 
 
 Towns, 3. 
 
 Visitors, ih. 
 
 English, 197. 
 Enniskillens, 197. 
 Epsom Downs, 265. 
 Essex Quay, 28. 
 Established Church, 16. 
 Europe, 17. 
 
 Fairwateb, 100. 
 
 Fanny Cholmondeley, 127. 
 
 Farquhar, 122. 
 
 Farren, 250, 251, 253, 254, 256, 257. 
 
 Elizabeth, 248, 271. 
 
 Fitz Montague, 249. 
 
 Henry, 247. 
 
 Miss, 89, 91. 
 
 Nelly, 247. 
 
 Surgeon, 248. 
 
 Faulkner, 25, 160. 
 Ferrars, 149. 
 
294 
 
 Index. 
 
 Field Marshall, 2. 
 Fingall, Lord, 27. 
 Finlay, 201. 
 Fishamble Street, 2. 
 FitzGerald, 141, 232, 233. 
 FitzGerald, Lord Edward, 236. 
 FitzPatrick, the Hon. J., 113. 
 Fitzroy Beauties, 43. 
 Flood, 151, 158. 
 Florence, 201, 233. 
 Foley, Mrs., 171. 
 Forster, Mr., 150. 
 Fownes Conrt, 118, 119. 
 Fox, Charles, 219. 
 France, 116, 126, 199. 
 Fulvia, 24. 
 Fnseli, 174. 
 
 G. 
 
 Galleky, National, 151. 
 
 Gallows, 233. 
 
 Gardiner, Luke, 167, 170, 172, 173, 
 
 174, 176, 177. 
 ■ Mrs., 171—176. 
 
 Street, 173. 
 
 Garnavilla, Maid of, 143. 
 Garnet Wolseley, 11. 
 
 Garrick, 86, 123, 124, 126, 128, 129. 
 
 life of, 20. 
 
 Gaulstown, 10, 11, 12. 
 
 Park, 10. 
 
 Gavel Act, 18. 
 
 General Bargoyne, 86, 89. 
 
 Conway, 103. 
 
 Gunning, 92, 93, 96—99, 100— 
 
 117. 
 
 Trevelyan, 111. 
 
 Genest, 260. 
 
 Gentleman's Magazine, 86. 
 Georges, the, 97. 
 
 George III., 83, 92, 97, 121. 
 
 George's Court, 118. 
 
 George IL, 121-174. 
 
 George TV., 229. 
 
 Germany, 13. 
 
 Gilbert, Mr., 2. 
 
 God, 78, 137. 
 
 Goddess, Paphian, 164. 
 
 Goldsmith, 26, 150, 166. 
 
 Goldsworthys, the, 9. 
 
 Gore, Letty, 142, 150. 
 
 Gormanston, Lady, 133. 
 
 Graces, the, 261. 
 
 Grafton, Henry, 24, 26, 150, 154. 
 
 Grafton Street, 2, 165. 
 
 Grammont, Dnc de, 169. 
 
 Grandison, 239. 
 
 Grant, Sir Patrick, 196. 
 
 Grattan, Life of, 151. 
 
 Green Street, 265. 
 
 Greville, Charles, 94. 
 Grey, Lady Jane, 131. 
 Grierson, Constantin, 166. 
 Grosvenor Square, 265, 270. 
 Gunnings, the, 25, 91, 101, 102, 109, 
 
 110,113, 117,132, 141, 142, 151, 
 
 165. 
 Gunning, Mr. and Mrs., 84, 96, 97, 
 
 100. 
 
 Alexander, 117. 
 
 Catherine, 97. 
 
 Crest, ih. 
 
 Gunilda, 99, 100—117. 
 
 Helen, 77, 101, 112, 113. 
 
 Kitty, 98-9. 
 
 Lizzie, 97. 
 
 Minnifie, 114, 116, 117. 
 
 Papers, 113. 
 
 H. 
 
 Hamilton, House of, 82. 
 
 Lady, 89. 
 
 Lady Betty, 84—90. 
 
 Miss, 101. 
 
 crest, 87. 
 
 Painter, 98. 
 
 Sir W., 88, 94, 101. 
 
 of Hambledon, Baroness, 91. 
 
 Hamilton and Nelson collection, 91. 
 Hamlet, 94, 120, 125, 139. 
 Hannah Hales, 110. 
 Hardcastle, 251, 253. 
 
 Harlowe, Clarissa, 166. 
 
 Harrison, Audrey, 145. 
 
 Haymarket, 251, 257. 
 
 Hazlitt, 247. 
 
 Hebrides, 84. 
 
 Heidegger, 174. 
 
 Helen Gunning, 101. 
 
 Hell Fire Club, 8L 
 
 Henn, Molly, 142, 143, 208, 209. 
 
 Henrietta Maria, 97. 
 
 Henry II., 194. 
 
 Henry V., 139. 
 
 Henry Street, 26. 
 
 Hermione, 5, 6, 126, 132, 139, 176. 
 
 Hibernian belles, 162. 
 
 crosses, 166, 167. 
 
 Highlands, the, 82. 
 
 Hints to improve decorum, 3. 
 
 Hitchcock, Hon. S., 134, 140. 
 
 Hoey, Miss, 143. 
 
 Hogarth, 142. 
 
 Holyhead, 159. 
 
 Home Rule, 3, 16. 
 
 Hon. W. Barnewell, 5. 
 
 Horace Walpole, 8, 10, 11, 23, 81, 82, 
 
 84, 87, 94, 97, 100, 101, 104, 110, 
 
 111, 113. 
 Horse, master of, 158. 
 
Index. 
 
 295 
 
 Horton, Christopher, 213. 
 House, Upper, 160. 
 
 of Lords, 3. 
 
 House that Jack built, 113. 
 Houston, 96, 99. 
 Howard, George, 150, 164. 
 Hoydens of Bloomsbury, 103. 
 
 Mrs., 214. 
 
 Hume, Sir Gustavus, 147. 
 Humpty Dumpty, 3. 
 Hunter, Mrs. 121. 
 Huntingdon, 127. 
 Hutchison, Hely, 151, 157. 
 Huguenot, 194, 198, 200. 
 
 Castle, %b. 
 
 Hymen, 171. 
 
 Temple of, 25. 
 
 Ierne, 164. 
 
 Inchbald, Mrs., 263. 
 
 Inchiquin, 143. 
 
 Inverary Castle, 84. 
 
 Ireland, 5, 15, 17, 18, 25, 80, 85, 86, 
 
 116, 136, 141, 144, 146, 157, 161, 
 
 163, 182, 186, 219. 
 
 South of, 95. 
 
 Irish, 117, 124, 136, 149, 159, 162, 
 
 167, 192, 283. 
 Irish Builder, 2, 10, 189. 
 
 capital, 1. 
 
 gentry, 16. 
 
 House of Commons, 6, 18. 
 
 . life, 5, 18. 
 
 nobility, 1, 4. 
 
 politics, 3. 
 
 women, 164, 270. 
 
 Irishism, 6. 
 
 Italian, 141. 
 Italy, 116. 
 
 J. 
 Jack, 114. 
 Jacob, 264. 
 Jacobites, 15. 
 Jamaica, 211. 
 
 James I., 14, 95, 149, 196, 210. 
 JefiFries, Mr., 63. 
 Jephson, 178. 
 Jig, Kitty Fisher's, 68. 
 Johnson, Dr., 26, 85, 91, 125. 
 John, Don, 151. 
 
 Joshua, Sir, 127, 170, 171, 177, 208. 
 Junius, 150. 
 Junto, 106, 107, 109. 
 
 Kauffmann, 143, 151. 
 Kelly, 4. 
 
 Kemble, 266, 268. 
 Kennard, 116. 
 Keppel, Admiral, 91. 
 Kerry, Knight of, 208. 
 Kilkenny, 5. 
 
 King, the, 49, 66, 67, 76, 210, 215, 
 219, 221, 224, 236. 
 
 ■ • William, 14, 15. 
 
 King's Birthday, 42. 
 
 Kings and queens of an hour, 34. 
 
 King of Bath, 62. 
 
 Knowsley Park, 86. 
 
 Catalogue, ib. 
 
 Knox, Mr., 41. 
 
 LAcr, 129. 
 Lactonage, 199. 
 Ladies : 
 
 Ailesbury, 67, 266. 
 
 Antrim, 176, 208. 
 
 Anne Coventry, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 
 
 96, 97. 
 Arabella Denny, 157, 177. 
 Augusta Clavering, 93, 94. 
 Balfour, Frances, 95. 
 Barrvmore, 235, 239, 240, 241, 244, 
 
 245, 246. 
 Belvedere, 1—13. 
 Betty Hamilton, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 
 
 89, 90. 
 Buckingham, 176. 
 Caroline Petersham, 43, 45, 47, 49. 
 Carysfort, 64. 
 
 Charlotte Campbell, 93, 109. 
 Chesterfield, 17, 22. 
 Coventry, 57—74, 82, 83, 84, 88, 
 
 174. 
 Derby, 90, 91, 94, 257-9, 267, 268, 
 
 270, 271. 
 Diana Spencer, 46, 66. 
 Duncannon, 63. 
 Dysart, 221. 
 Emma Hamilton, 94. 
 Fanny Shirley, 22, 23. 
 Grandison, 49, 239. 
 Grosvenor, 11, 214. 
 Gormanston, 135. 
 Gower, 87, 91. 
 Lanesborough, 192—199. 
 Loftus, 148-9, 151, 154, 155. 
 Louisa Conolly, 201. 
 Luttrell, Anne, 214. 
 
 Elizabeth, 214, 224. 
 
 Lucy, 214. 
 
 Mary Coke, 60. 
 Mary Duncan, 115. 
 Mayo, 33, 97. 
 
296 
 
 Index. 
 
 Molesworfch, 10. 
 
 Molyuenx, 208. 
 
 Mountjoy, 172, 173, 174, 181. 
 
 Musgrove, 235-6, 238. 243-4. 
 
 North, 65. 
 
 Orrery, 132, 
 
 Ossory, 67, 217. 
 
 Palmer, 26, 27, 28. 
 
 Pembroke, 92. 
 
 Eockingham, 63. 
 
 Eoss, 4. 
 
 Townshend, Charlotte Compton, 
 149, 157, 167, 168. 
 
 Townshend, Anne Montgomerv, 
 171-2. 
 La Touche, 192, 194, 195, 198, ISO, 
 
 200, 202, 203, 204, 205, 206, 208. 
 Langrishe, 150-51, 152, 154, 157, 
 
 161. 
 Le Caillemote, 194, 197, 198. 
 Lecky, Mr., 15, 16, 146, 183, 192, 
 
 219. 
 Lees, Sir Harcourt, 27. 
 Leinster House, 2, 142. 
 
 Street, 2. 
 
 Le Fanu, 192. 
 
 Lefroy, 193. 
 
 L' Estrange, 192. 
 
 Le Nauze, 193. 
 
 Libellero, 15. 
 
 Liberties, 141. 
 
 Ligondes, General, 183. 
 
 Limerick, 198. 
 
 Lincoln's Inn, 203. 
 
 Lismore, 139, 248. 
 
 Lissan, 204. 
 
 Locket, 201. 
 
 Lodge, 1, 2, 194. 
 
 London, 8, 19, 25, 43, 45, 52, 62, 67, 
 
 70, 101, 119, 124, 127, 129, 132, 
 
 136, 154, 159, 187, 234, 240, 245. 
 London Season, 68. 
 Lords : 
 
 Antrim, 176. 
 
 Arran, 142. 
 
 Barrymore, 234, 239, 241, 242, 244. 
 
 Bellamont, 159, 168. 
 
 Belvedere, 5—18. 
 
 Berwick, 257. 
 
 Blandford, 102, 105, 106—111. 
 
 Blessington, 171, 173, 181, 191. 
 
 Bolingbroke, 46, 63, 65, 66, 69. 
 
 Boyton, 229. 
 
 Bristol, 145. 
 
 Camden, 189. 
 
 Carhampton, 211, 212, 228, 229. 
 
 Charlemont, 141, 147, 155, 159. 
 
 Chesterfield, 18, 19, 20, 22, 23, 24, 
 25, 26, 27, 28, 31, 45, 188, 226, 261. 
 
 Clare, 188, 188. 
 
 Clermont, 49. 
 
 Coventry, 55, 59, 61, 69, 74, 76, 82. 
 
 Derby, 85, 86, 90, 91, 257, 258, 
 259,265,266,271. 
 
 De Blaquiere, 172, 175. 
 
 Dunluce, 168. 
 
 Edward FitzGerald, 286. 
 
 Ely, 141, 155, 160. 
 
 Ferrers, 68. 
 
 FitzWilliam, 186—189. 
 
 Galloway, 115. 
 
 Grandison, 239. 
 
 Henry FitzGerald, 258. 
 
 Harcourt, 158, 159, 167, 169, 184. 
 
 Hardwioke, J 44. 
 
 Harrington, 43, 44, 13:i. 
 
 Hawarden, 208. 
 
 Hertford, 145. 
 
 Hobart, 63. 
 
 Irnham, 211. 
 
 Kelly, 87. 
 
 Kerry, 135. 
 
 Kildare, 141, 167, 168, 175. 
 
 Knapton, 148. 
 ' Lanesborough, 12, 207. 
 
 Loftus, 147, 148, 149, 155, 163. 
 
 Lome, 95, 101, 102, 103, 103, 108, 
 111. 
 
 Meath, 142. 
 
 Molesworth, 2, 11. 
 
 Montalt, 142. 
 
 Montfort, 63. 
 
 Morniugton, 205. 
 
 Monntcashel, 142. 
 
 Mountjoy, 5, 172, 173, 176, 180, 
 181, 189. 
 
 Northampton, 149. 
 
 Nuneham, 66. 
 
 Orford, 126. 
 
 Ossory, 113. 
 
 Pembroke, 92. 
 
 Powerscourt, 141, 142, 148. 
 
 Shannon, 147. 
 
 Stanley, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 268. 
 
 St. John, 74. 
 
 Stratheven, 176. 
 
 Townshend, 145—148, 151—155, 
 157, 158, 163, 168—172. 
 
 Tyrconnell, 195. 
 
 Tyrone, 170, 182, 188. 
 
 Wandesforde, 147. 
 
 Waterford, 188. 
 
 Westmeath, 147. 
 
 Wilton, 271. 
 Lords Lieutenant, 14, 144, 150, 202. 
 
 Patriot, 147. 
 
 Lucas, 181. 
 
 Luttrell, 210, 211, 221. 
 
 ■ Temple, 225. 
 
 Luttrellstown, 210, 211, 212, 213. 
 
Index. 
 
 297 
 
 Lynn Linton, Mrs., 48, 167. 
 Lyster, W., 33. 
 Lyceum, 167. 
 
 M. 
 
 Macaulay, 197. 
 
 Macbeth, 177, 178. 
 
 MacCartney Sir George, 151. 
 
 Mackenna, Sir Joseph, 245. 
 
 Macmahon, 301. 
 
 M'Swiney, 125, 129, 136. 
 
 Magazine, Hibernian, 201. 
 
 Magbie Hill, 162. 
 
 Managers, 120. 
 
 Mann, Sir Horace, 146, 158. 
 
 Marcia, 170. 
 
 Margaret Woffiiigton, 118—140. 
 
 Marlay, 200, 205. 
 
 Mary Billenden, 81. 
 
 Masques, 174, 177, 205. 
 
 Mathews, Mrs., 177. 
 
 Melford, 116. 
 
 Melusina Schulenberg, 17, 23. 
 
 Merrion Square, 175, 203, 204. 
 
 Minnifie, 92, 101, 104, 105, 114, 
 
 115. 
 Mistress of the Robes, 92. 
 Molesworth, Henrietta, 204. ^ 
 Molesworth Court, 2. 
 Molesworth of Fencarrow, 1. 
 Molesworth, Robert, 1, 2. 
 Molesworth Street, 2. 
 Money bill, 146. 
 Monody, 161. 
 
 Monroe, Dorothea, 141 — 161. 
 Montgomerys, 143, 150, 155, 159, 162 
 
 —171. 
 Montague, Mrs., 166. 
 Moore, Tommy, 185. 
 Moorish, 234. 
 Morrison MS., 89. 
 Mountjoy, 172, 174, 
 
 181, 186, 189. 
 Mountjoy Square, 173. 
 
 Place, 173. 
 
 Molyneux, 2. 
 
 Mullingar, 10. 
 
 Murphy, 26. 
 
 Musgrave, Sir Francis, 234. 
 
 Sir Richard, 235. 
 
 Mynchen Fields, 2. 
 
 N. 
 National Biogranhy, 81. 
 
 Gallery, 9i; 151, 170. 
 
 Portrait Exhibition, 28. 
 
 New art of Gunning, 113. 
 
 179, 180, 
 
 Newgate, 15, 93, 234. 
 New Ross, 181. 
 
 O. 
 
 Oaks, the, 86, 261. 
 
 (*'Brien, 143. 
 
 O'Callaghan, 211. 
 O'Connell, 26. 
 O'Perrall, 28. 
 O'Hara, 135. 
 Oldfield, xMrs., 130. 
 Ophelia, 93, 120. 
 Orange lilies, 20. 
 
 Lodges, 15, 18. 
 
 Party, 14, 197. 
 
 Pall Mall, 223, 224. 
 
 Palliser, Sir Hugh, 91. 
 
 Palatine, German, 192. 
 
 Palmer, John, 256, 266, 268. 
 
 Pantheon, 262. 
 
 Parliament, 3, 18, 133, 144, 146, 154, 
 
 218. 
 Paradise, bird of, 142, 209. 
 Paris, 129, 165. 
 Park, Phoenix, 161, 167, 173. 
 Parody, 114. 
 Patches and Powder, 87. 
 Patmos, Fille de, 176. 
 Peep O'Day Boys, 15. 
 Peg Woffiugton, 18, 24, 28, 35, 36, 
 
 37, 118. 
 Pendarves, Mrs., 3, 4, 5. 
 Percy, Lady, 139. 
 Perrm, 193. 
 Petworth, 170. 
 Plaistow, Miss, 44. 
 Pliant, Lady, 140. 
 Plover, 173. 
 Plunkett, Major, 116, 117. 
 
 Mrs., 116. 
 
 Pllkiugton, Mrs., 143. 
 Pitt, 161, 187. 
 
 Mrs., 62. 
 
 Poer, de la, 182, 183. 
 
 Polly Peachum, 119,133, 201. 
 Polly, Miss, 126, 127. 
 Polonaise, 88. 
 
 Ponsonby, 147, 179, 187, 208. 
 Pope, 22, 26. 
 Posthumous, 151. 
 Powerscourt House, 142. 
 Prendergast, Sir Francis, 234, 238. 
 Prince, the, 218, 224. 
 
 Regent, 234. 
 
Index. 
 
 Princess, 223. 
 Progress, 157. 
 Prorogation, 157. 
 Protestant, 14. 
 
 Boys, 15. 
 
 Minority, li. 
 
 Q- 
 Quaker, 177. 
 
 Queen, 139, 158, 208, 221, 225, 270. 
 Queensbury, 119. 
 Quebec, 146. 
 Quin, 131. 
 
 R. 
 Rains-ford, 223. 
 Ranelagh, 263. 
 Rapin's History, 161. 
 Recruiting otEcer, 120, 130, 131. 
 Redding, Cyrus, 241. 
 Rehearsal, 225. 
 Restoration, 137. 
 Rich, 121, 123, 127, 131, 132. 
 Richardson, 143, 160. 
 Ridicule, force of, 266, 267. 
 Robinson, Mrs., 263. 
 Rosalind, 123, 130, 137. 
 Roscommon, 116, 117. 
 Rousseau, 190. 
 Roxburghe, 126. 
 Royal Marriage Bill, 216, 218, 219. 
 
 S. 
 
 Sackville street, 37, 234. 
 Sadlife, Lady, 140. 
 Salisbury, 249, 271. 
 Salisbury, Esther, 47. 
 Sarah Bernhardt, 178. 
 Sarsfield, 195. 
 Schomberg, 195. 
 
 Sir Alexander, 177. 
 
 School for Scandal, 265, 268. 
 Sedan chairs, 142. 
 
 Selwyn, George, 46, 50, 54, 58, 
 
 68, 70, 74, 75, 77, 78. 
 Shakespeare, 122. 
 Shandy, Tristram, 150. 
 Shannon, 147, 195. 
 Shelton, 79. 
 
 Polly, ih. 
 
 Sheridan, 126, 132,133, 136, 164, 
 Siddons, Mrs., 263, 264, 266, 267. 
 Sir J. Bland, 61-63. 
 
 H. Bertie, 63. 
 
 H. Hnnlock, 77. 
 
 W. PitzWilliam, 187. 
 
 Sir J. Reynolds, 59, 67,127, 169, 222. 
 
 Harry Wildair, 122, 123, 131. 
 
 Sixpenny doll, 176. 
 
 Smock Alley, 124, 131. 
 Spencer, Lady D., 46, 66. 
 Spropositos, 60, 61. 
 St. Andrew's, 127. 
 Staples, Sir T., 203. 
 
 Mr., 177. 
 
 Steele, Mrs., 263. 
 
 Stephen's Green, 142, 143, 150, 203. 
 
 Sterne, 176. 
 
 Stewart, A., 173. 
 
 St. James's, 49, 50, 224. 
 
 St. John, Barbara, 75, 76. 
 
 St. Leger, 178. 
 
 St. Omer, 223. 
 
 St. Patrick's Cathedral, 118. 
 
 Hall, 42. 
 
 Strawberry Hill, 58, 73, 158, 221. 
 Snett, Mr., 268. 
 Suflblk, 116. 
 Surface, Joseph, 268. 
 
 Charles, i6. 
 
 Taaffe, 120. 
 
 Tamsin, 236, 242, 243, 245. 
 
 Taylor, 72, 127. 
 
 Teazle, Lady, 268, 269. 
 
 ■ — — Sir Peter, 268. 
 
 Teddington, 125, 126. 
 
 Terry, Miss, 260. 
 
 Thackeray, 45, 62, 63, 79. 
 
 Theatre, Crow Street, 168. 
 
 Thomasina, 235, 245. 
 
 Thrale, 47, 127. 
 
 Tisdall, 151. 
 
 Toler, Mr., 178. 
 
 Touchwood, Lady, 139. 
 
 Towneley, 130, 131. 
 
 Townshend, Lord, 145, 146, 147, 148, 
 
 152—159, 163, 167—172, 191. 
 Trapeaud, General, 44. 
 
 • iMrs., 44. 
 
 Travis, Mrs., ^Q, 97, 98. 
 
 Mr., 99. 
 
 Trevelyan, General, 111. 
 Trinity College, 118, 120, 128, 155. 
 Tweeddale, Lady, 93-4. 
 Twickenham, 93. 
 
 U. 
 
 Undertakers, 147, 148. 
 Union, 160, 161, 179, 184. 
 University, Catholic, 142. 
 
Index. 
 
 299 
 
 Ussher, Mary, 10. 
 Captain, 11. 
 
 Vauxhall, 263. 
 Vesey, Mrs., 127, 168. 
 
 Major, 18y. 
 
 Viceregal, 159. 
 
 Viceroys, 132, 133, 145, 146, 152, 153, 
 155, 157, 158, 161, 163, 167, 169, 
 176, 186, 187, 188. 
 
 Viceroyalty, 136. 
 
 Victor, 135, 139, 260. 
 
 Violaute, Madame, 119, 128. 
 
 W. 
 
 Waldegravk, 68, 217, 220,221, 223. 
 Waldire, 143. 
 
 Wales, Prince of, 121, 126, 172, 212, 
 213, 222. 
 
 Princess of, 121. 
 
 Walker, 197. 
 
 Walpole, Horace, 6, 41, 43, 49, 50, 51, 
 52, 53, 54, 58, 59, 60, 61, 65, 66, 67, 
 68, 69, 71, 73, 76, 81, 82, 83, 86, 
 93, 94, 103, 104, 105, 106, 107, 108, 
 109, 114, 115, 145, 146, 158, 217, 
 219, 220, 221, 222, 225, 226, 252, 
 257, 266. 
 
 Walpole, Sir Eobert, 126. 
 
 Wargrave, 234. 
 
 Watch-paper portrait, 51. 
 
 Waterford, 182, 196, 237. 
 
 Waterloo, 117, 203. 
 
 Whaley, Buck, 142. 
 
 Whey woman, 176. 
 
 White's Clab, 50, 55, 61. 
 
 Whitelaw, 194. 
 
 Whyte, Samuel, 165, 166, 167, 168, 
 
 170, 205. 
 Wicklow, 203. 
 Wilkes, 121. 
 
 Wilkinson, Tate, 129, 131, 136, 139. 
 Williams, Gilly, 45, 58, 62, 75. 
 Wilson, Mr., 177. 
 Woffington, 118—140. 
 Wolfe, 146. 
 Wood, 199. 
 Wraxhall, 211, 213. 
 Wren, 264. 
 
 Youghal, 37, 38, 237. 
 
 Young, Arthur, 18, 34, 35, 163. 
 
 Younger, 250, 251, 270. 
 
 Z, 
 
 ZuccHi, Antonio, 
 
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