^.-^ ^-Tt^^-i^f^tr^^ u^ THE LIFE AND TIMES OF DANIEL O'CONNELL \}l}ii2i THE LIFE AND TIMES DANIEL O'CONNELL, BY T- O. LUBY, Esq., T.C.D. CHIGWELL CONVENT WOODFORD BRIDGE, WOODFORD GREEN, \u ESSEX GLASGOW: CAMERON, FERGUSON & COMPANY. ^^D, BOSTOW COLLE(JE CONTENTS, PRELIMINARY SKETCH OF IRISH PIISTORY. Relations of Ireland to England the Source of Irish Misery — Independence Necessary to Ireland's Haiipinsss — Aims of O'Connell's Life — How far he Succeeded— Where he Failed, and Why— Exaggeration of his Theory of Moral Force — Ireland's Capabilities — Rapid Survey of Irish History down to the Year 1775, . . . . ^ . . , 1-34 CHAPTER I. Birth —Family — Scenery of Ireland in general, and of Kerry in particular, . 35-46 CHAPTER II. The Penal Laws— First slight Relaxations of this horrid Code — Cui'ious Anecdotes and Illustrations of Life dui-ing the days of the Penal Laws— Geoghegan of London's odd Recantation— Kedagh jNIacGeoghegan and his Horse — Case of Father Sheehy — Curran's first signal Success at the Bar — Captain St. Leger and the old Priest— O'Connell's Anecdotes of strange conversions to Pro- testantism — His amusing stories of Father O'Grady— The Priest's nan-ow escape i.-om the fangs of British Law — A Kerry Brigand in Flanders— The Orangemen and Jack of the Roads— O'Leary's Catholic and Protestant Son — Catholic Petition — Berkeley's Querist, ..... 46-73 CHAPTER III. Childhood of O'Connell— Paul .Jones ofif the Coast of Kerry — O'Connell masters the Alphabet qiiickly — His Fear of Disgrace— Captain Cook's Voyage Round the World — Nomadic Gentry — Early Anticipations of Greatness — O'Connell's Uncle Maurice, Sumamed Huiitlnrj-Cap—His Love of Old Ballads — En- counter mth a Mad Bull— Active Habits — The Crelaghs and the Ken-y "Colonels" — His Father Attacked by a Band of Robbers— Private Theatri- cals — His Early Religious Training — Protestant Visitors and Holy Water —His Uncle Maurice's Cofiin— MacCarthy More and the Priest— The American War, ,,....... 73-82 CHAPTER IV. Brief Sketch of the Irish Volunteer Movement and the Revolution of 1782 — The Reform Convention — Flood and Grattan — Further Relaxations of tlie Penal Jjaws — Reflections of England's Concessions in 1782— O'Connell's Opinion of Grattan — His Opinion on the Question of " Simple Repeal," , . . 82-100 CHAPTER V. Youth and Early Manhood of O'Connell— O'Connell at Louvain, St. Omer's, and Douay— In Danger during the French Revolution— Anecdote of .John and Henry Sheares and the Execution of Louis XVI. — O'Connell and the Crowns of France and Belgium — Dan and the Banker— Jeffreys of Blarney Castle — Further Relaxations of the Penal La^vs — CathoUcs Admitted to the Bar — O'Connell a Law-Student in London — Anecdotes of George IV., Mrs. Fitz- herbert, and (Jharles James Fox — O'Connell sees George III. in Danger — Slow Travellin,^ of the Last Century— Pitt and Fox as Orators — Drinking Habits of thu Jjiist Century resisted by O'Connell— Cousin Kane, an Odd Charactei'- O'Connell in th-i Yeomanry — He attends a Political Meeting iu '97— St'es Lord Edward Fitzgerald— O'Connell gets a Fever from Sleeping in Wet ('lothes, and is near Dying — Sallies Forth on His First Circuit — O'Connell, Harry Deane Grady, and the Soldiers— Ro'obers — Anecdote of Grady— .Journey with H. D. Grady — Passing the Kilworth Mountains- Sudden Death of a Cousin of O'Conucll's— Inns when O'Connell was a Young Man— He Travels with .John Phili)ot Cun-an —Arthur O'Connor — Humorous Bar Anecdotes —Robber Incident — Death of Erennan the Robber — O'Con- nel tiiinks of Writing a Novel — O'Connell's Courtship and Marriage — Anecdote of Collins — Autobiographical Anecdote— O'Connell a Zealous Advocate of Mary Queen of Scots — Lalor of Killarney and the Farm of Lisnaliabie— Old Ifloads— Inn at Milstreet — A Cow of Feeling— " Dark Oblivion of a Bruw"-Corruj)t Judges, , , . - . 100-125 A ?Y CONTENTS. CHAPTER VI. Theobald Wolfe Tone and the " United _ Irishmen "—Peep-o'-Day Boys and De- fenders — Orange Atrocities— Tone in Bantry Bay — Injustice and Tyranny of Lord Camden's Government— Secession of Grattan and his Friends from the Honse of Commons— O'ConneU's Comments on this Step — Military Violence and Orange Outrage— "United Irishmen's" Plan of Organisation — The Text'l Exxjedition — "Free Quarters" — Arrests at Bond's House— Death of Lord Edward Fitzgerald — The Informers, Secret and Open — Eebellion of '93 Horrors : Floggings, Butcheries, and Executions — John P. Curran Defends the "United Irishmen "—Landing of the French— Death of Wolfe Tone and Others — The Union— Clare and Castlereagh — Daniel O'Comj ell's First Appearance on the Political Stage as an Orator — His Anti-Union Speech — Henry Grattan's Sudden Re-appearance in Parliament — His Fierce Invective against Corry — Duel between Grattan and Corry — Grattan's Anti- Union Speeches — The Union Carried by Corruption and Military Intimi- dation — Insurrection of 1803 — O'Connell a Yeoman — Robert Emmett's Speech in the Dock — His Execution— The Fate of Thomas Russell— O'Con- nel's Opinion of Emmett's Attempt— Severe Measures of Repression after 1803— Evil Results of the Union, &c., . . . . . . 125-216 CHAPTER VIL Daniel O'ConneU's Recollections and Anecdotes of the Rebellion of '98 and the Union — A Model Trimmer : Changing Sides Four Times in One Day — Noble ! 'onduct of Tim DriscoU — O'ConneU's Account of Taafe in '98 — O'ConneU's Anecdote of O'Connor, the Rebel Schoolmaster — "The Liberator" relates several other Interesting Anecdotes of '98— Lord Clare on the point of being Assassinated in '98 by Baron Power ; Double Suicide— Bush and Caesar Colclough — Rewards for Pro-Union Votes— O'ConneU's Reminiscences of Union Judges — Judge Daly — Dan's Strange and Amusing Anecdotes of Lord Norbury — A Whimsical Charge from the Bench : the Celebrated Case of Guthrie versus Sterne — Norbury's Epigram on " Two Strange " and " Little Alick " — Norbury's Racket Court— Dan's Queer Story of Norbxu^''3 Funeral — Time and Eternity— Hung Beef — Firing at a Wig — O'ConneU's Boldness in Court— "Hope from the Past," ..... 216-22b CHAPTER VIIL Pictures, Anecdotes, and Incidents of O'ConneU's Career at the Bar— O'ConneU Travelling on Circuit— O'Connell in his Study — O'Cunnell iu the Courts — His Reminiscences of Chief-Baron O'Grady, Lord GuiUamore— An Amusing Reproof— Baron Foster's Resemblance to a Stuffed Owl— O'Grady and the Cow-stealer's Witness— O'Grady in the Theatre in Limerick— " Checkley > be d — d !" — Jerry KeUer and Judge Mayne— O'ConneU's Anecdotes of Jerry KeUer, Norcott, and Parsons, the Attorney-hater — Strange Career of Norcott ; he becomes a Mussulman — Judge Foster and Denis Halligan — The " Liberator's" Story of One of his CUents who wished to shew his Gratitude in an Odd Fashion — A Place in Glasuevin — A Pious and Grateful Highway- man — O'ConneU's Life Valuable to his Clients— Curious Instance of O'Con- nel's Professional Penetration and Quickness : A Tale of a Fly — lUustrations of O'ConneU's Rapidity of Conception and Promptitude of Action, . . 227 237 CHAPTER IX, Lady Morgan's Sketch of O'Connell— More of O'ConneU's Bar Anecdotes and other lleiiiiniscences — Value of an Ugly Nose — A Lesion in Cow-stealing — Un- ■ premerlitated Oratory — O'Connell on the Scotch and English Jury-Systems and Clipital Punishment, &c. — Queer Anecdote of Sir Jonah Earringtou ; the Pawnbroker Outwitted — Escape of a Robber— An Orangeman who always liked to have O'Connell as Ids Counsel — Odd Story of a Physician — Anecdotes of .Judges Boyd and Lefroy ; O'ConneU saves the Life of a Client — He Defies Baron M'Cleland— A Judge Sternly Reproved— Anecdotes about Judge Day and Bully Egan— O'ConneU Humbugs Judge Day— His Opinion on the Subject of Judges' Wigs— Dan Overhauls a Client's Accounts to the Great Advantage of the Latter — He Receives a Challenge from an Angry Litigant— A High-Sheriff's Providential Thickness of SkuU— O'Con- nel Sitting for his Portrait— Kerry Dexterity ; a Smart Newsboy— Blake's Duel— Breach of Promise (^ase ; Miss Fitzgerald versus Parson Hawkes- worth- (Jrose the Antiquary— Duke O'Neill's WUl — A Witty Epigram of Hussey Burgh on the Ladies of t)ie Stratford Family ; Ai-istocratic Female ShopUfters— Further Instances of O'ConneU's TiCgal Acuteness Cases of ]\ I r. CONTENTS. justice Johnson and Mr. Justice Fox — Manners and Customs in Ireland at the End of the Eighteenth and Commencement of the Nineteenth Century — 'X'he Irish Chai-acter — ' " King " Bagenal — Election Duels — " Tilf frequently the chief promoter of discord. So hopelessly unsettled was the state of society, so devoid were the chiefs and people of just notions of subordina- tion ajid government, of obedience in exchange for protection, of the necer rlty, for the general weal, of uniformly sup- porting the ruler out of the national resources, that it is possible the supreme monarchs came at length to Adew it as a matter of interest, and even absolute necessity, to wring by the strong hand whatever they could from their insolent and lawless tributaries. Indeed, it is liard to explain the reigns of many of these monarchs on any rational principle. A king succeeds to the throne by murder- ing his predecessor. Issuing from Meath (or whichever territory may be his imme- diate patrimony), he successively invades all the other provinces ; plunders and ravages Ulster, Munster. Leinster, and Connaught impartiidly; fights a number 'ith the native Irish against their king. Singular to say, London itself was filled with rude alarms by an Irishman during the disturbed reign of Henry VI. Shakespea,rc has given, in the second part of Henry VI., a wonderfully vivid picture of the revolt, headed by Jack Cade, which for a brief season terrified the citizens of London. As might be expected, Shakespeare's scenes are ntit merely true as the old chronicles to the whimsical characters and incidents of Cade's insurrection, but they are an image, more or less faithful, of all mob tumults. In Ireland, English power was in those days rapidly chvind- ling into complete insignificance. In 1423 the Ulster chieftains totally defeated the lord deputy and the English forces. When peace wag subsequently m.ade, it was only on the condition that the English should bmd themselves to pay a tribute, called " Black Rent," to the Adctors. Some time about the year 1471 the English settlers were in so precarious a state, and felt their hold on Irish soil so insecure, that they thought it necessary to form a de- fensive military brotherhood — styled the "Brothers of St. George" — consisting of fourteen loyal men of rank, selected from the four counties of the pale — Dublin, hiildare, IMeath and Louth. For a time the captain of the fraternity had under his command a standing power of 200 men. But at a later period, from lack of means, it was reduced to 120 troopers; and for the support of even this small band the English settlers were obliged to look for aid to England. Indeed, the English pale, about 1534, or near four centuries from the so-called conquest, had grown so "fine by degrees and beautifully less," that jt could no longer be said to comprehend within its limits even the four cmmties around Dub- lin. There is reason to believe that ' at this time English laws, government, or- ganization, language, and usages hardly prevailed in any direction beyond twenty ELL CONVENT WOODFORD BRIDGE, PRELIMINARY SKETCH OF IRISH HISTORY. 15 miios from Dublin. Nor did the j)artisans of English rule feel that their hold upon even this limited territory was a bit too secure. They complamed that English lords took Irish tenants, and that the *^ Black Eent" was paid to certain Irish chiefs. Upon the whole, even in the sixteenth centuiy, the old Celtic form of society still held sway in Ireland. Many of the Norman lords, as I have already intimated, spoke the Irish language, adopted Irish habits, and even went so far as to assume Celtic prefixes to their names (thus the De Burghos called themselves Mac Williams), and to become veritable chiefs of clans. All attempts to introduce the English innovations, however backed by penal laws or the sword, failed to van- quish the stubbornness with which the people of the ancient race and th? .\nglo- Norman Irish, whom they from time to time absorbed, clung to their prunitive and unique form of civilization. This Celtic civilization, Avitli its peculiar man- ners, traditions, literature, music, and other arts, bearing little or no resem- blance to those of any other country, the o'd Irish, in the course of long and hoary ages, had with great origmality of mind succeeded in working out for themselves, with scarcely any indebtedness to ancient Greece or Rome, the fountains whence the other nations of Europe had drawn their nascent ci^'ilization. Hence the Irish loved and climg to their own customs with a pecuUar fondness. It is indeed curious, and illustrative of the Celt's tenacious adherence to old usages, to observe how those fonns and features of an antique society and civilization still hold dommion, more or less, over the hearts and lives of our people. A new and terrible element of con- fusion was introduced into Ireland, as into other countries, in the sixteenth century. I allude to what is styled " The Kcformation," and to the religious discord it produced. If the country and its in- habitants had been torn asunder by animosities and strife before, society in Ireland now and henceforward became a perfect chaos of contending evil passions. No one can hope to understand thoroughly O'Connell's career, the struggles that filled his lifetime, or those that agitate Irishmen in our own day, without first comprehending the history of past Irish dissensions, and above all our religious dissensions. From these dissensions of the past nearly all the questions that have been vexed, and nearly all the events that have taken place in Ireland during the present century, derive their origin; so that, if we want to find out their fit- ting solution or true significance, Ave can only do so by bearing in mind and learn- ing to interpret properly our dark and blood-stained past. Henry VIII., having succecdedin estab- lishing in England, by acts the most vio- lent and arbitrary, his o^Yn supremacy on the overthrow of the papal authority, was impatient to accomplish tlie same result in Ireland. Accordingly, severe penal enactments were passed by the so-called Irish Parliament (in reality the Parlia- ment of tlie pale, and wholly subservient to the king's government) against the Catholic religion. All the penalties of prcinunire — confiscation and imprison- ment during the pleasure of the sovereign — menaced those who should dare to defend the autliority of the Roman pon- tiff. Laws were also passed for the suppression of Irish monasteries. Some of these were plundered and desolated; sacred images Avere profaned. The in- mates of the religious houses were per- secuted and driven into exile, sometimes massacred. At a later period, any one guilty of persistent refusal to acknow- ledge the religious supremacy of the king was liable to the penalties of high trea- son. Those who refused tq attend the novel worship were liable to fines and censures. Numbers were enriched by the confiscation and plunder of church property. But, in the teeth of every threat and danger, the vast majority of the Irish people clung to the ancient faith of their fathers. Indeed, the perils to which their fidelity exposed tliem only made their religion dearer to tlieir hearts. It was quite natural, then, that when they beheld the shrines which they Avere accustomed to venerate desecrated under the sanction of English laAvs by the pro- fane hand of the spoiler, rifled of their sacred vessels and ornaments, and when, in addition, they beheld their holiest men persecuted and banished, if not mur- dered, while they kncAV that they Avere not safe themselves from the same tyr- anny, — it was only natural that their hatred of the foreign race and rule that imposed those tyrannous laws upon their country should be intensified day after day. It is in no way wonderful that, 14 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. about this period, the secret negotiations of the Irish chiefs with foreign potentates should become frequent and dangerous to English rule in Ireland. In the reigns of these sovereigns of the house c/ Tudor, we find the Irish at one time negotiating with the emperor Charles V., the kings of France and Scotland, and the Holy Father, on other occasions' negotiating with one or other of these monarchs separately. We find them, in their con- tests with England, occasionally inviting and getting the aid of Scotch auxiliaries, and still more frequently receiving assist- ance from Spanish troops. Unfortunately, these last seldom arrived at the proper time, or came in sufiicient force to be of any real service. Not long before the commencement of the Geralduie war (which I shall notice presently), in Queen Elizabeth's reign, we find Sir James Fitzmaurice, one of the gallant Geraldines of Munster, obtaining a bull from Pope Gregory XIII., in which the Irish were stimulated to fight for their national freedom and faith. Those who should fight in the good cause were promised the same indulgences and spiritual privileges which had been ac- corded to the Crusaders fighting for the deliverance of the Holy Sepulchre. Nor did the pontiff's sympathy with the cause of Ireland rest here. Six hundred Ita- lians, intended to co-oiDerate with the Irish, were equipped by him, and placed under the command of an English soldier of fortune, named Thomas Stukely, on whom he conferred many high-sounding but somewhat inane Irish titles. Fitz- maurice also sought and expected help from liing Philip of Spain. But his plans were upset; for the erratic adventurer, Stukley, seduced by Don Sebastian of Portugal's more magnificent project of invading Morocco, without the least scruple broke his Irish engagements, and, flinging away his expectations of Irish marquisates for jMoorish princijialities in the air, accompanied the Portuguese ex- pedition to Africa. There, in the fierce fight at Alca^arquiver, he perished along with King Sebastian and his hosts and all their visionary conquests, dignities, and spoils. What is wonderful in the Catholic Irish of those days is, that, unlike all the other nations of that age, although perse- cuted sorely themselves, they did not in tiieir day of power retaliate on the mem- bers of the hostile sect. During Queen Mary's reign, while in England the fre- quent fires of bigotry blazed in Smith- field, and Protestants were burned at the stake by scores, persecution was unknown in Ireland. Some Protestant families- even, that had been obliged to fly from England, foimd both toleration and shel- ter in Ireland. But all this hmnanity failed to secure even moderate treatment for the Catholic Irish when the accession of Elizabeth restored religious sway to the partizans of the Beformation. Mr. INIitchel, in one of the introductory chap- ters of his admirable Life of Hugh O^Neill, brings together, in one para- graph, an accumulation of horrid facts, giving a vivid picture of the ferociou& cruelties and tjTanny that, born of the bigotry of the age, then disgraced nearly every comitry in Europe. In this paragraph he specifies several of the sanguinary acts of religious persecution perpetrated m Ireland by the ofiicials of Elizabeth : " How Patrick O'Hely, Bishop of Mayo, and Cornelius O'Rourke, a pious priest, were by order of Drury placed on the rack, their hands and feet broken with hammers, needles thrust under their nails ; how they were at last hanged ; how Dermot O'Hurley, Archbishop of Cashel, was arrested by order of Adam Loftus (Chancellor of the Pale and Queen's Archbishop of Dublin) ; how he was loaded with irons until the Holy Thurs- day of the following year, dragged before the chancellor and treasurer, questioned, tortured, and finally hanged outside the city walls before break of day ; how John Stephens, a priest, having been duly con- victed ' for that he said mass to Teague Mac Hugh,' was hanged and quartered." Mr. Mitchel adds, that ' ' all this and much more may be found in the martyrologists- of the time." Indeed, the never-ending scenes of horror, the deeds of -unsparing tyranny, sometimes on religious and some- times on civU grounds, " that fill the spacious times of great Elizabeth," in Ireland at least, form, taken as a whole, one of the " bloodiest pictures of the book of time." It is in no way astonish- ing that, during the entire course of Elizabeth's long reign, the fires of Irish rebellion were never wholly extinguished. If they occasionally indeed smouldered for a brief time, on the other hand they were generally ablaze over the greater portion of the island. PRELIMINARY SKETCH OF IRISH HISTORY. 15 Tlie most formidable opponent of Queen Elizabeth in the earlier years of her reign was Shane O'Neill, surnamed Shane the Proud. This fierce chieftain boasted that he had never on any occa- sion sued to the queen for peace, that she had always been obliged to make the first overtiu-es to him. For a time, in spite of occasional checks from the O'Donnell's, his power was dreaded and obeyed by nearly all the tribes of Ulster. But his character and career were fierce and tur- bulent. He made bitter and implacable ■enemies all around him by his lawlessness. He captured the chief of the O'Donnell's and robbed him of his fair wife. He crushed and despoiled his neighbours, the O'Reillys, Maguires, and Antrim Scots. For long he defied the EngUsh and baffled their treachery, entertained Sir Henry Sydney, acting as royal deputy, with princely hospitality, but spumed the Enghsh titles offered in the queen's name by the Earl of Sussex. At the same time he visited the queen in London, astonish- ing both court and city with his " gallant train of guards, bare-headed, with curled hair hanging down their shoulders, armed with battle-axes, and arrayed m their saffron doublets;" but out of this visit eventually came his ruin. He made an alliance with the queen (who secretly swore " by God's death " to destroy him) against the kindred Scotch tribes of Antrim, Mac Donnells and Mac Neills. For a while he waged cruel war against them, slaying and carrying into captivity some of their leading men. At last, too late, he saw what a fatal snare the alliance with England had been. Finding that, on one false pretence or other, the English were encroaching on his terri- tory, he attacked them at Derty, dis- lodged their garrison from Armagh, burning both church and town. He next invaded the pale, ravaging the lands and razing the castles of the English settlers ; but his star of prosperous for- tune began to set rapidly. The whole power of the English was turned to his destruction. IMaguire and other chiefs, whom his pride and fierceness had ren- dered hostile, joined in a league against him with the new chief of the 6'Donnells, Hugh, brother and successor of Calvagh, the prince whom Shane had so deeply injured. O'Donnell's forces routed him •on the 8th of May, 1567, not far from Iietterkenny, driving him back on the river Swilly, where numbers of his men perished in the waves and by the s,word. Totally beaten, and deserted by nearly all his followers, his ruin was now com- plete. He took, however, the bold re- solution of seeking refuge among his former enemies, the Antrim Scotch. At first they seemed inclined to give him hospitality and protection ; but one Piers, an English agent, was there to rouse the revengeful feelings of the Mac Donnells. In a brawl, apparently preconcerted, the fierce but gallant Shane — a chief great alike "in battle and carouse" — was per- fidiously slaughtered with his small band of followers. The miscreant Piers sent his head, " pickled in a pipkin," to the lord-deputy, receiving in exchange blood- money to* the tune of one thousand marks. The lord-deputy basely caused the chief- tain's ghastly head to be " gibbetted high on a pole," where it "long grinned over the towers of Dublin Castle." The reigns of all these Tudor sovereigns are disgraced by repeated instances of the blackest cruelty and treachery on the part of the Enghsh authorities in Ireland. In the reign of Edward VI. we have on one occasion, in Dublin, the execution of thirteen of the Fitzgcralds or their parti- zans. In the reign of Queen Mary, which, like her brother's, was short, we have abundance of slaughter, and desolation, and sore oppression of numerous clans, under the administration of Thomas Rad- cliffe. Earl of Sussex, and Sir Henry Sydney; but in the long reign of Eliza- beth we might, as Mr. Mitchel says, " sup full of horrors." In this place it may be as well to notice briefly a few instances of the treachery which characterized English rule at this period. Walter Devereux, Earl of Essex, President of Ulster and Earl-Marshal of Ireland, arrived in that island in 1573 to try and carry out a scheme of confiscation and English colonization in the northern pro- vince. The scheme appears to have been a sort of anticipation of the plantation of Ulster that subsequently took effect in James I.'s reign. This "undertaker," finding that the O'Xeills of Claneboy and other Irish chiefs were not inclined to sub- mit to the robbery of their patrimony quite so easily as the interests of British sway demanded — in short, finding himself in a somewhat difiicult position— thought a little treachery might help him in his civilizing mission. Accordingly, he per- 16 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. fidiously seized his ally, Con O'Donnell, and sent him prisoner to Dublin; but this was a mere nothing compared to another exploit of his. Brian O'Neill and the earl, after being at variance, came to a friendly understanding. Brian, apparently desirous of celebrating the establishment of peace between them in a hospitable Irish fashion, invited Essex to be his guest. The Englishman, taking an infamous advantage of the absence of distrust and relaxation of all vigilance and precaution on Brian's part in such a festal time, seized his host and hostess, also Brian's brother, and at the same time caused the attendants, matrons, young men and maidens, to be brutally butchered in their unfortunate master's presence. Then Brian and his wife and brother were brought to Dublin, and there ruthlessly cut up in quarters. This savage act filled the Irish with horror and the keenest desire of vengeance. Even this inhuman act of treachery was, if possible, surpassed by a deed of horror perpetrated in 1677 by the en- lightened and politic or crafty Sir Henry Sydney, whom I have already referred to, the father (alas!) of the graceful, the accomplished, the generous, chivalrous and humane Sir Philip Sydney, who later in the sixteenth century died so nobly on the field of Zutpheu. Sir Henry was one of the ablest men who ever managed English business in Ireland — an admir- able ruler, at all events, from the English point of view, but things look quite different viewed from the Irish point. Doubtless, Sir Henry, like the Normanbys and Carlisles, and Spencers and Glad- stones of our own century, knew full well how to play the part of conciliating the Irish; he could even, on occasion, abolish oppressive taxes. He was great in the interests of peace and order. His greatest exploit, however, in furtherance of the noble cause of English law and order and civilization was performed in the year 1577 at MuUaghmast, near Athy, the scene, in our own times, of one of O'Connell's grandest monster meetings for "Repeal" — the one at which the celebrated sculptor, JohnHogan, crowned him. The principal men of Offaly and Leix (now the King's and Queen's coun- ties) were invited by the wily and un- scrupulous lord-justice, Sir Henry, to come together at the great rath of liuUaghmast for an amicable conference. Confiding in the honour and good faith of this knightly Sydney, about 400 came, free from doubt or misgiving or fear of any sort, but they paid dearly for their trust. Caught in the toils and quickly encircled by a tripple line of the royal troops, they were suddenly assailed ; the pitiless steel of the English soldiery drank their blood. Hardly one escaped to tell the tale. This reminds one of the fate of the entire body of the nobles of the gallant Bashkir nation, in Asia, in the reign of Catherine II., who were toO' successful^ lured to destruction by the Russian governor of Ufa's treacherous invitation to a banquet. All these tales of English treachery and massacre are horrible ; but it is still more horrible to read that chiefs of Irish race were some- times found to help their foreign masters in this bloody work of treachery against their own countrymen. Mac Giolla Patrick, baron of Upper Ossory (for this base minion of English povv^er preferred a Saxon coronet to the Celtic wand of chieftaincy), on the 30th of June, 1578, assassinated the valiant outlaw, Rory Oge O'More, who had stoutly and gallantly maintamed his independence of English power for eighteen years. Of all the many rebellions that oc- curred in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, in all probability the one attended with the greatest amount of human suffering was that called the Geraldine war. I have already spoken of the efforts of Sii' James Fitzmaurice to enlist the sjinpa- thies of foreign potentates in the cause of Ireland, and to raise an auxiliarj'- force of Italians or Spaniards; we saw how Stukely played hun false and abandoned him. As it was plain, however, that the intolera;ble wrongs and sufferings of the Irish under British tjTanny had created for themselves and their cause a consider- able sjTnpathy among all the nations of the Continent that had clung tg the old faith, Fitzmaurice persevered. At last, arrivmg in Smerwick Bay Avith three small ships, a small band of eighty Spaniards, and bearing a consecrated banner from the Pope, this enterprizing leader made a daring descent on the coast, and fortified a tongue of land, which was named Fort- del-ore. After this, however, he met with naught save bitter disappointment and swift ruin. The head of all the Geraldines, Earl Gerald, vacillated, and finally declined putting hunself at the PRELIMINARY SKETCH OF IRISH HISTORY. :7 head of a revolt, though he had griev- ances enough to spur hini on and warrant such a step. It was not so very long since he had escaped from the j^rison into which Lord Deputy Sydney had cast bun, but he was jealous of, or at least disliked his cousin Fitzmaurice. In short, we find him even shamefully taking side with the queen, and hiinting Fitz- maurice and his own two brothers, James and John. The gallant and enduring Fitziuaurice, after pusliing on to Tipper- ary, is finally surrounded in a thick and lonely wood by the brothers Theobald and Ulick Bourke of Castleconnell, and some of the O'Briens of Arra. Irishmen (alas !) agam pursuing Irishmen to the death, and that, too, for the accursed stranger! But the brave Munster Ger- aldine, like the heroic Lemster Geraldine of "98, sells his life right dearly. In the last fierce fight of despairuig valour, Fitzmaurice is wounded by a ball in the chest, but ere he falls he smites the two false Bourkes of Castleconnell. The expii-ing warrior cleaves with one noble stroke the head of Theobald, and next mortally wounds Ulick. Calmly gi\'ing final directions to the faithful few who still stand by him, Fitzmaurice dies. A grie\-ing kinsman cuts off his head, and hides the trunk under an old tree ; this a hunter subsequently finds and brings to Isjlmallock ; there, swmging from a gal- lows, it is riddled by the shots of un- generous enenues. This was the end of the adventurous Sir James Fitzgerald, or Fitzmaurice (as he was called from his father, Maurice of Desmond), an able leader and good patriot, generous, brave, prudent, earnest, and indomitable. And now, when too late, we find Earl Gerald raismg the standard of open re- volt and joining his outlawed brothers and kinsfolk — reluctantly, however, and not till the thanklessness of the English governors for his adhesion to the queen's side was made too manifest. He had given his only son and- heir, James, as a hostage for his loyalty to the lord-justice, and in return had been promised a j)ro- tection. The English fuiliUed this pro- mise by destroj-ing the cattle of his tenants, plundering his crops, lajnng waste liis lands, and burning his castles. I have not space to give any very length- ened detail of the incidents of this cala- mitous vt^ar, which turned the whole south -west of Ireland into a melancholy scene of utter desolation. The English destroyed all the houses and corn within their reach. The Geraldines themselves, anxious to lessen the resources of the foe, helped to increase the devastation of their country. We find the Earl of Ormond, chief of the Butlers and hereditary enemy of the Desmonds, assisting the lord-justice to crush his hapless covmtrymen, and sparing neither age nor sex. It is still more sti\ange and mortifying to find the great Hugh O'Xeill assisting tlie EnglisJi in this horrid war. Throughout its v/hole course this was a dreary and almost hope- less struggle for the Iiish, checkered with few passing gleams of success or glory. Sometunes, mdeed, the maddened Irish, turning fiercely on their ruthless foes and standing at bay, would slaughter a number of the marauders. A seasonable diver- sion, too, was made by Eustace, Lord Baltinglass, with the O'Byrnes, O'Tooles, O'Kavenaghs, and others, on the borders of the pale, and at least one glorious victory was won, that of Glendalough in 1580, when stout Fiach IMac Hugh, the mountain-chief of tlie O'Byrnes, totally defeated the lord-deput}-, Arthur Lord Grey. The Irish drew the English main body, consisting of infantry, uito the defile; then suddenly pouring a volley into them from the surrovinding coverts, they darted fiei'cely with wild battle-cry on their startled and bewildered foes, slaying several of their best captains — Carew, JNIoore, iUidley, and Cosby — and 800 of their common soldiers. Grey and his cavalry witnessed the slaughter of their countrymen without being able, owing to the broken and difficult nature of the ground, to give them any help. Finally he had to retreat to Dublin, covered with the shame of his rash attempt to force the defile, which seems to have been made contrary to the advice of hia most prudent captains. But in spite of such transient gleams of success, the fortune of war was almost wholly against Ireland. The deputy ere long found an opportunity of takuig a cruel and ignoble revenge for his discom- fiture. Ormond besieged in Fort-del-ore 700 Spaniards and Italians who had landed in Smerwick Harbour in Septem- ber, 1580, and compelled them to sur- render at discretion, according to English authorities, but according to the Irish on sworn articles. Be this as it may. Lord Grey caused them all to be sLaughtered in 18 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. cold blood. Speaking himself of their surrender, and the atrociovis deed of wholesale murder that followed, he coolly says, " Then put I in certeyne bandes who streighte fell to execution;" and also, "There were 600 slayn." No wonder that "Grey's faith" became a prover- bial phrase of reproach throughout all Europe. Even an insurrection in Connaught, in which we fixid Ulick and John Bourke, sons of the Earl of Clanrickard, engaged, together with O'Roorkes, O'Connors, and O'Briens, failed to strengthen the cause ■of Ireland. Some of the leaders gave in quickly. Indeed, the history of the greater portion of this war is little else than a chronicle of English atrocities. In 1581 forty-five persons are hanged in Dublin. In the sbuthern war, Zouch and (sad to ■say) the celebrated Sir V/alter Ealeigh signalize themselves by peculiar cruelty and rapacity. The hunted Geraldines still, however, occasionally strike success- ful blows at their enemies. John of Desmond even overruns the lands of the Butlers and JMacCarthy j\Iore, sweeping away creaghts of cattle and other spoil. Desmond, thougji defeated by Zouch near Aghadoe, rallies, advances to Cashel, •captures and plunders it. But, in spite of these partial successes, the Geraldine ■cause is lost; reverses follow thick and fast; John of Desmond is defeated by Zoiich, and slam. His body hangs in chains for three years at one of the city gates of Cork ; at last, one stormy night, it is blown into the sea. The head is spiked in front of the Castle of Dublin. ■James of Desmond and his two sons are hanged shortly after John's death. Zouch liangs some children he holds as hostages. Still, Desmond himself struggles on with occasional success, but at last he becomes ■a hunted fugitive. Himself and his coun- tess, in 1582, at Christmas-time, have to stand for concealment up to their necks in water under a river-bank. Through the year 1583 the wretched earl, deserted by all save a small band of gallowglasses, is hunted from place to place, having no longer any secure spot whereon to lay his head. His hereditary enemy, Ormond, vindictively pursues the fallen earl; at last, on the 11th of November, 1583, the aged earl is surrounded in a hut, wounded, find made captive. His head is sent to England, enclosed in an iron cage, and impaled on London Bridge. His body is interred by the peasantry in the little chapel of Kilnamanagh, near Castleisland, Kerry. Spanish vessels, with men, arms, and money for the earl, arrive too late. Tliey immediately return to Spain, for the Geraldine war is evidently at an end. Such was the fate of the once powerful Earl of Desmond. Indeed, the might of the noble race of the southern Geraldines was extinguished for ever. Some years before, a haughty Earl of Desmond, when borne by the victorious Butlers, wounded and a prisoner, from the field of Affane, was tauntingly asked, "Where is now the proud Earl of Desmond '? " His answer was a fierce and scornful sarcasm : " "Where he ought to be — upon the necks of the Butlers!" But the day of Des- mond's pride and power was now past for ever. The Butlers (subservient tools of English dominion) became all-powerful in their stead. The dead Earl of Desmond and 140 of his adherents were attainted; their estates, to the extent of 600,000 acres, were confiscated; English under- takers were to colonize them. Though this plantation-scheme did not succeed eventually as well as its originators had hoped it would, yet nothing could equal the misery of the Irish race in Munster, and the ruin of their country at the close of this frightful struggle. The words which, we are told by Tacitus, the Cale- donian chief Galgaciis applied to the Roman conquerors of old, might well be turned against the English oppressors of the Geraldines: "They make a solitude and call it peace !" The icy-hearted but brilliant poet of fancy, Spenser, though, like the old monster oddly surnamed the great Earl of Cork, he could contemplate with considerable complacency the idea of utterly rooting out the Irish, cannot help drawing the most vivid and even moving pictures of the scenes of woe and desolation that overspread the fair fields of Munster. He says : "In all that warre there perished not many by the sword, but all by the extremity of famine." The seemingly ideal images of desolation pre- sented in the following stanza of "The Faery Queen" are copied from the reali- ties he witnessed in Ireland while living in Kilcolman Castle, and enjojing do- mains robbed from their rightful owner: '' He in his furie all shall over-ronne,, And holy church with faithless hands deface, That the sad people, utterly toredone. Shall to the utmost mountains fly apace: Was never so great waste in any place. PRELIMINARY SKETCH OF IRISH HISTORY. 19 Nor so fowlo outrage doen by living men; For all thy citties they shall sack and rase, And the green grass ttiat groweth they shall bren, That even the wilde beast shall dy in starved den." In short, the southern Irish were starved to death. Holinshed says: "The very wolves, the foxes, and other like ravening beasts, many of them lay dead, being famished." Here is another quotation from Spenser: "The end will (I assure me) be very short, and much sooner than can he hoped for; although there should none of them fall by the sword, nor be slaia by the souldiours, yet thus being kept from manurance, and their cattle from running abroad, by this hard re- straint, they would quickly consume them- selves and devour one another." Again : " In a short space there were none almost left, and a most populous and plentifuU countrey suddaiuly left voyde of man and beast." The soldiers supplemented the exterminating action of starvation by setting fii'e to buUdings full of men, women, and children. Infants they specially destroyed, lest they should grow to "become popish rebels." "Women were found hanging from trees, with their children strangled in the mother's hair." Spenser, telling us of the famine -scenes, when the poor Irish were forced to feed on carion, or, like beasts, on roots or watercresses or shamrocks, says that, viewing the emaciated sufferers, "any stony heart would rue the same." Con- sidering his own somewhat stony heart, one is not very much afflicted to read that afterward, in 1598, during the rage of rekindled warfare, he was burned out of his Castle of Ivilcolman, and lost all his ill-got property. The year following, the hapless poet died in London, ^'■for lack of bread.'''' It must be admitted that in this reign the Irish, in spite of their fierce resistance, were gradually succumbing to the yoke of England. The old forms of Celtic society, with their strange features — some of which resembled more or less those of the ti'ibe-systems of Syria and Arabia, others, such as the custom of having hereditary bards and brehons, etc., not wholly unlike certain features of the Hindoo castes — were giving way at last to tlie institutions of the stranger. Even during the reign of Henry VIII. a few attempts to Anglicise some of the Irishry had been made, not altogether without success. The Parliament which met in Dublin in June, 1541, during the ad- ministration of the politic Sir Anthony St. Leger, conferred the title of King of Ireland on Henry VIII. and his rightful successors. Before this date the English kings had only been styled lords of Ire- land. There were idle pomp and foolish joy in Dublin on this occasion. Soon after quite a number of Irish chiefs were cajoled into surrendering their territories and their Celtic appellations of chief- taincy. In return, their estates were given back, and Anglo - Norman titles- conferred on them by letters - patent. JMurough O'Brien was made Earl of Thomond; ]\Iac GioUa Patrick became Baron of Upper Ossory; Mac William (De Burgo), Earl of Clam-ikard; O'Neill, Earl of Tyrone. Some of the smaller dynasts got foreign titles of inferior dignity. Thomond's brothers, indeed, subsequently opposed him; and when he- died Doimel claimed succession by the old Celtic law of tanisti'y, and, amid the great enthusiasm of his tribe, proclauned himself O'Brien. In St. Leger's time, too, Irish soldiers are raised to fight for the king in France and Scotland. In 1519, O'Carroll becomes Baron of Ely. Some Irish chiefs ask the government to arbi- trate between them. Many tributary chiefs, too, are declared independent of their superior dynasts. In Mary's reign, in 1550, the Celtic districts of Leix and Offaly are metamorphosed into the Queen's and King's counties, tlie nev/ names being in honour of Mary and her husband, Don Philip of Spain. New colonists, to keep down the natives, are introduced, and several contumacious Celtic chiefs are hanged or otherwise executed. In 1560 we find writs to return members of Parliament issued to the counties of Dublin, Louth, Kildare, Meath, West Meath, Carlow, Kilkenny, Wexford, Waterf ord, and Tipperary. . lu 1569 a Parliament declares the laws of tanistry abrogated. Charter-schools are directed to be established in various dioceses, the teachers to be all English. Mr. Mitchel has the followmg passage towards the close of his sketch of the Geraldine war : " TIius fell the great Earl of Desmond; and thus the fairest pro- vince of this island, wasted and destroyed by the insane warfare of the Irish them- selves, lay ready for the introduction of the foreigner's law, civilization, and re- ligion; or, as Dr. Leland has it, 'for 20 THE LIFE OF DANIEL, O CONNELL. effectually regulating .ind modelling this country upon the jirinciples of justice and liberal policy.' And accordingly a Parliament was soon held for the purpose of vesting in the Queen of England all the lands wliich had been inhabited by the kinsmen and adherents of Desmond. Ijetters were written to everj^ county in England, offering estates in fee to all 'younger brothers' who would under- take the plantation of Munster; each undertaker to pla7it so many families; but ' none of the native Irish to be ad- mitted.' " This progress of the conquest continues steadily tlirougli the j^cars im- mediately following the termination of tlie Geraldine war. Seven new counties in the "liorth — Armagh, Monaghan, Tyrone, Coleraine, Donegal, Fermanagh, and Cavan— are marked out and furnished with tlie usual civilizing staff of sheriffs, coroners, and commissioners of the peace. In 15S5 the new lord-justice, Sir John Perrott, tries the conciliatory policy: at least he makes believe that he is rather inclined to treat the natives on somewhat equal terms with the dominant race. A Parliament assembles, attended by chiefs of nearly all the Celtic clans. Perrott, in order to pass his laws more easily, even •wants to suspend Po'fnmg's Act, Avhich subjects the Irish to the English legisla- ture. This, however, is successfully op- j-osed. With all his conciliatory turn, Sir John must do a little in the attainting way. An Act is passed attainting Eustace Lord Baltinglass and other so-called rebels. In a second session of Parlia- ment, held the same year, the attainder of Desmond and his partizans, already no- ticed, is carried through. Also claims of chieftains to impose taxes are annulled. Still, Sir John Perrott becomes unpopu- lar with the English adventurers. He is insulted and thwarted in the council- chapiber. Intrigues are got up to set the queen against him. Did he not condemn the conduct of that true and thorough English civilizer, Sir Richard Bingham, who in 1586 executed seventy men and women in Galway; then butchered all the garrison of the castle of Cloonoan in Clare; then hanged several distinguished Burkes; and next allowed his soldiery to rob and kill, ad libitum, men and women, young and old, in Connaught, hunself in- dulging in massacre and executions with- out limit? In disapproving of the brutal Sir Pticliard (who doubtless was ancestor to the tenant-exterminating and civilizing Bingham, styled Earl of Lucan, of om- own day) Sir John Perrott was unreason- ably oblivious of the interests of English civilization and civilizers, which should inevitably siiffer, if anything like justice or equality were accorded to the mere native Irish. But though the English power and sys- tem were gradually creeping on through the island, yet Irish resistance was by no means finally crushed. In spite of the in- sidious influences of her crafty policy, the Irish v/ere not going to ' ' give up the old land " to Queen Elizabeth " without another blow." As I have just taken a hasty survey of the most dismal and mel- ancholy, so I shall now give a rapid sketch of tJie most formidable and glori- ous of all those fierce struggles against England's power that occurred in the long reign of Elizabeth. I need scarcely add, I refer to the war in which the politic and renowned Hugh. O'lSTeill and tlie gallant Red Hugh O'Donnell were the leaders of the Irish race and cause. In all probability, Hugh O'Neill medi- tated a supreme effort to throw off the yoke of England for years before he thought proper to throw off the mask. Possessing, as Camden says, " a profound dissembling heart," he dissimulated long. Having spent, during his early life, much of his time at the court of England, he learned how to fathom thoroughly the policy of the astute statesmen who Avere the pillars of Elizabeth's throne. He could even return them wile for wile, and circumvent them with their own arts. He determined to lull to sleep all sus- picions of his loyalty till the occasion should seem to him ripe and his j^repara- tions complete. To attain this end he consented to wear the hated coronet of the earldom of TjTone, and even, as we have already noticed, went so far as to serve on the queen's side in the Geraldine war. So nnich did he enjoy the confi- dence of the queen's government that he was allowed to raise, equip, and disci- pline six companies of soldiers. Taking- advantage of this privilege, as fast as one batch of his followers are trained he dis- bands them and commences training a fresh squad of recruits, until at length his drilled followers count by thousands. He procures a vast quantity of lead for bul- lets, on the plea that he wants a leaden roof for his new house of Dungannon. PRELIiMINARY SKETCH OF IRISH HISTORY. 21 Perrott's aid enabled liim to humble the Scots' of Antrim, who had begun to rival the i^o'vver of the O'Neills. To compass these ends the crafty earl seems to con- sent to Encflish supremacy, and even advises that the statutes against assuming the name of O'Neill be enforced. The outwitted queen solemnly invests him with the lands of his race; gradually, too, he deprives Turlogh Lynnogh, the nomi- nal chief of the O'Neills, of his influence and authority, till at last, at the rath of Tulioghoge, on the stone of royalty, girt by the warriors, bards, and ollamhs of Tyr-Eoghain, having made oath to main- tain the old customs of the tribe, he re- ceives the wand of chieftaincy, and is recognized as O'Neill. He next complies with the immemorial ceremony of de- scending from the stone and turning round "thrice forward and thrice backward." For a considerable time after this O'Neill continued to dissemble. Mean- while, several things occurred to favour his designs. Tlie inifjuitous murder, by a mock trial by jury, of Hugh Mac Mahon, a northern cliief, on a trumped up charge of treason, the whole villany havhig been concocted by the corru-pt and rapacious lord-deputy. Sir William Fitzwilliam, filled the entire north with indignation and a fierce thirst for vengeance. Other villainies of Fitzwilliam fanned the flame. Dm'ing this period, too, some vessels of the stonn-tossed Spanish Armada were wrecked on various points of the Irish coasts. Nearly all the chiefs on Avhose lands the Spaniards were cast treated the war-and-tempest worn strangers hospi- tably, and protected them against the Englisli governors; but no one treated the strangers so kindly or paid them such honours as Hugh O'Neill. He foresaw that such courtesy might pave the way for a Spanish alliance, and no doubt he took good care to explain the state of affairs and interests in Ireland to the Spanish officers. He had all this time been busy endeavouring to become reconciled with old enemies and healing all the feuds he could — trying, in short, to realize his noble project of a northern confederation, Avliich no doubt he considered only a step to the creation and consolidation of an independent Irish nation ; for the mind of this great chief seems to have grasped the large idea of a united Ireland. He and his enemy, O'Cahan, became fast friends; he also formed an alliance with the Ul- ster Scotch, the Mac Donnells of the glens of Antrim. But the circumstance of all others which most favovu'ed his plans was the escape, in 1592, from his dungeon in Dublin Castle, of Red Hugh O'Donnell. This gallant young prince had some years before, by a most perfidious strata- gem, planned by that conciliatory and justice -to -Ireland -loving governor, Sir Jolin Perrott, been trapped on board a ship in Loch Swilly and borne off captive to Dublin; there he languished long in prison. In 1591 he first escaped; but the Wicklow chief, Felim O'Toole, with whom he took refuge, basely surrendered him through fear. His second attempt, which was made in 1592, about Christ- mas-time, was more fortuiiate ; with two fellow-prisoners, Henry and Art O'Neill, sons of Shane, he once more made for the Wicklow mountains, which were covered with snow. All night he and his two friends, buffeted by a snow - storm, struggled to reach Glenmalure and the protection of the redoubtable victor of Glendalougli, Fiach Mac Hugh O'Byrne; three days and nights they were lost in the mountains. Poor Art perished. O'Donnell and Henry O'Neill were at last found by some of O'liyrne's clans- men half dead with cold, O'lionncll's feet all frost-bitten. O'Byi-ne's generous hos- pitality soon gave them fresh life and vigour. O'Donnell sent a messenger to Hugh O'Neill, who sent him back a trusty guide. After a journey full of peril, O'Donnell reaches Dungamion, where he and Hugh O'Neill interchange confi- dences, and strike up a lasting i'riendsliip and alliance. He next goes home to Tyv- Connell, where his tribe welcome him joyously; but he is hardly home when he hurries, with some of his father's war- riors, to chastise the ruffian soldiery of Bingham, who had just taken and spoiled the Franciscan monastery of Donegal, the abode of learned chroniclers. On the 3c! of the ensuing May, at the rock of Dovne in Kilmacrenan, "the nursing-place of Columkille," his father renounces the chieftaincy of the claii, and Red Hugh, nov,r nineteen years of age, is solemnly made The O'Donnell, with the accustomed ceremonies of his race. Thus the two great tribes of the Kinnell Conncll and the Kinnell Eoghain were at length under the sway of two warlike and vigorous princes, swoi-n friends of each other, and sworn foes of the Saxon. 22 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. Of the two, O'Donnell was the first in the field. lie hastened to lend effective aid to Maguire, the hard-pressed chieftain of Fermanagh. O'Neill thought fit to dissimulate a while longer. To throw dust in the eyes of the English, he ap- peared in arms against Maguire, and, in a charge which he made on Maguire's flank, received a wound in the thigh. When Sir AVilliam liussell came to rule Ireland as the successor of the greedy and corrujit Fitzwilliam, O'Neill, with singular audacity, even ventured to Dublin to con- front his enemies and accusers. It was on this occasion that he defied to mortal combat his brother - in - law, the lord- marshal, Sir Henry Bagnal, whose sister he had induced to fly with him to Dun- gannon. In spite of the protection he had received, he would in all probability have been treacherously seized, but for the friendly warning of the Earl of Ormond, which caused him to fly from Dublin. Not without risk did he manage to pass through the pale and the toils of the enemy that were fast closing roimd him. But the long-looked-for day was at hand when he was to strike a giant's blow for freedom of religion and country. His northern confederacy was now com- plete and strong. By family alliances he had even won over Macgennis of Iveagh and O'Hanlon of Orier, two chiefs for- merly under the influence of Bagnal. In Leinster his friends, the O'Byrnes, O'Ca- venaghs, and the daring Sir Walter Fitzgerald (surnamed Riagh), who was afterwards caught by treachery and exe- cuted in Dublin, were attacking and laying waste the frontiers of the pale. The glori- ous hom- came at last, in 1595, when the dread royal standard of O'Neill, with " that terrible red right hand upon its snow-white folds," waved defiantly over the hills of Tyr-Owen! The great chieftain's operations in the field were at once attended with the most brilliant success. He began by defeating the queen's best general, tlie^ brave Sir John Norreys, along with his brother. Sir Thomas. At Clontibret, O'Neill's per- sonal courage was conspicuous, for, in desperate single encounter — both combat- ants first shivering their lances on each other's mail, and then rolling in deadly embrace from their horses to the earth — he slew a gigantic Meathian named Se- grave. Throughout this war, O'Donnell, when not fighting on the same fields with O'Neill, was making fierce irruptions into Counaught, laying waste and spoiling the lands of all who supported the English interest. In Leinster, too — in spite of the loss of the heroic chief of Glemnalure, the gloriotis victor of Glendalough, Fiacli Mac Hugh O'Byrne, who, for twenty years with his small clan having stood at bay against the whole power of Elizabeth, and within a few miles from the gates of Dub- lin Castle, maintained his independencci had finally, at the suggestion of Sir Wil- liam Russell, been betrayed by the treach- ery of a kinsman and executed in Slay, 1597, leaving, however, worthy sons behind him — in spite of this, in the province of Leinster the general aspect of affairs promised well for the national cause. O'Mores, O'CarroUs, O'Byrnes, O'Tooles, Cavenaghs, and even Butlers made fierce and sanguinary inroads on the pale. Even Crumlin village was burned, withm two miles of Dublin. The chief men of Con- naught, too, combined. Later, tlv; con- federacy embraced the noblest Celtic and even Noi-man families of Munster. By O'Neill's authority, James, nephew of Earl Gerald, assumes the title of Earl of Desmond. Though we still find traitor Irish fighting on the side of the Saxon — queen's O'Reillys, queen's Maguires, and others — yet the idea of a united Irish nation seems for the first time about to animate the minds of the majority of Irishmen. Of all our Irish victories in those days, the most glorious was that gamed at Bael- an-atha-Buidlie, near the river Callan, and two miles north of Armagh, on the 10th of August, 1598, by the combined forces of the northern and Connaught clans under O'Neill and O'Donnell. On the morning of that memorable day a splendid army of veteran English troops, led by O'Neill's personal foe. Sir Henry Bagnal, proudly marched forth from the city of Armagh to force the intrenched position of the Irish. Stoutly the lord-marshal fought his way through all obstacles — through am- buscades of light-armed troops, guarding the intervening defiles, and sending their volleys into his ranks out of thick fir-tree groves — till he was able to form his army on the more open ground in front of the Irish line of battle. This accomplished, he attacks without delay. Nor did the sight of the cavalry tumbling headlong, both men and horses, into the treacherous pit- PRELIMINARY SKETCH OF IRISH HISTORY. 23 falls which O'Neill had cunningly caused to be dug in front of his defences, and covered over nicely with wattles and grass, seriously check the ardour of the British onset. Loiidly shoutmg " St. George for merry England!" the English press on with dauntless obstinacy, batter- ing the intrenchments with cannon. But if the attack is terrible and hard to be resisted, so the defence is fierce and stub- born. Hatred of race inflames both armies ; personal animosity also incites O'Neill and Bagnal. At length the bull- dog valour of the English succeeds in forcing, not without great sacrifice, the Irish intrenchments at one point, and the defenders are di'iven back. But now O'Neill's main body, hitherto skilfully held in reserve, comes to the rescue. The bagpipes sound the charge. Wildly and terribly the Irish battle-cries, " Lamh- dearg!" and " O'Donnell aboo!" ring in the ears of the Saxon foemen. O'Neill in person "pricks forward," with rage and rancour in his heart, seeking on all sides his deadly foe, that he might slay hun. But Bagnal falls by a hand less noble. The marshal raises the visor of his helmet, the better to mark the aspect of the field. Straight a ball crashes through his brain. And now, for the English, mishap quickly follows mishap. A cart of gimpowder explodes amid their ranks, blowing num- bers into fragments, and spreading wide confusion and dismay. The cavalry of Tyr-Connell and Tjn'-Owen are on theiti too in full career. The war-cry of the Tyr- Connell gallow-glasses, " Battaillah aboo!" rises fircely above the battle din. 'Tis vain to think of standing against that irresist- ible charge. Before it the whole English anny reels and flies in wild disorder and hideous rout, leaving behind them cannon, standards, and treasure. John Mitchel gives the following gra- phic description of the flight and pursuit : — " The last who resisted was the traitor O'Reilly ; twice he tried to rally the flying squadrons, but was slain in the attempt ; and at last the whole of that fine army was utterly routed, and fled pell-mell towards Armagh, with the Irish hanging fiercely on their rear. Amidst the woods and marshes all connection and order was speedily lost; and, as O'Donnell's chro- nicler has it, they were pursued in couples, in threes, in scores, in tliirties, and in htmdreds, and so cut down in detail by their avenging pursuers. In one spot especially the carnage was terrible; and the coimtry people yet point out the lane where that hideous rout passed by, and call it to this day the ' Bloody Loaning.' Two thousand five hundred English were slain in the battle and flight, including twenty-three superior oflicers, besides lieutenants and ensigns. Twelve thou- sand gold pieces, thirty-four standards, all the musical instruments and cannon, with a long train of provision-waggons, were a rich spoil for the Irish army. The confederates had only two hundred slain and six hundred wounded." After three days' investment in Armagh, 1,500 fugitive English surrendered to the Irish. Some of the chieftains would fain have slaughtered them by way of retalia- tion for the atrocities of the English, but O'Neill's humanity prevailed over these sterner counsels. " The prisoners were disarmed and sent in safety to the pale. Portmore was instantly yielded, and its garrison dismissed with the rest." Such was the most brilliant passage in the life of Hugh O'Neill. To quote again from IMr. MitcLeh: — "AH Saxon soldiery vanished speedily from the fields of Ulster, and the bloody hand once more waved over the towers of Newry and Armagh." Of course, it is quite impossible in a brief summary like the present to follow O'Neill and O'Donnell through all the varying incidents of their days of glory and disaster. For long they were victo- rious over all antagonists. Viceroy after viceroy went down before them. Fitz- william, Ilussell, De Burgh (who was defeated and killed at the battle of Drum- fluich), Ormond, but, above all, the queen's brilliant favourite, Essex, — all these vice- roys, together with several generals of distinguished bravery and skill, such as Norreys, Bagnal, and Clifford, failed igno- miniously in every effort to subdue the banded tribes of Ireland. England's star of conquest seemed about to pale before the morning star of a united Ireland. In Mr. Mitchel's life of Hugh O'Neill the reader will find ample details, full of interest and animation, of the many glori- ous achievements of O'Neill, O'Donnell, and others of the national leaders. There we may learn to estimate O'Neill's skill in warlike stratagems and wiles, from the account given of the singular mock-combat between two bodies of his own troops (one, in the clothes of slaughtered Eng- lishmen, simulating an English party on 'J4 THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. their march to relieve leaguered Armagh), which drew forth the garrison to help their imagined friends, whereupon an ambuscade that O'Neill had planted in a monastery on the cast of Armagh cut them off from the city. In Mr. Mitchel's book all CNcill's victories on the Blackwater and elsewhere, from Clontibret to Beal- an-atha-Buidhe, rise vividly before us. Yv'e have vivid pictures, too, of the vic- tories and fiei"ce raids of O'Donnell, especially of the battle of the Curlew mountains, v/h ere fell liis brave antagonist, vSir Conyers Clifford; and« of the terrible foray on the lands of Thomond, on which occasion, during his march homewards, he gen(>rously restored to the suppliant bard. jMaoilin Oge, his plundered flocks and herds. The brilliant exploit of the brave and faithful Richard Tyrrell — of Norman extraction, indeed, yet an Irish- man true as steel — in the defile that ever since has borne his name, where he all but annihilated the Meathian detachment of young Rarnewall of Trimleston; the equally brilliant exploit of the O'Mores in the Pass of Plumes, where fiveliuitdred of Lord Essex's rear-guard were cut to pieces ; O'Neill's interview with that showy but shallow viceroy; the sketches, of all these and numerous other scenes and events, with occiasional glimpses of the arms and costume of the Celtic tribes, both Irish and auxiliar Highland Scotch, the former " enveloped in long woollen cloaks, which in action they often wound round the left hand," and their footmen fighting with "sharp battle-axes and short swoi-ds ; " v/hile the latter, wearing the clan-tartans, Avield the redoubtable huge two-handeclbroadsword, — all these scenes and pictures of the life of our forefathers give variety and movement to Mr. Mitchel's narrative. Meagre as this outline of our past his- tory must necessarily be, I shall yet devote a few pages to the scenes disastrous to the Irish cause that fill the closing years of this war, which has left behind it for Ireland so many proud as well as sadden- ing memories. A perception of the true causes of O'Neill's and O'Donnell's final defeat will also give us a perfect insight, both with regard to the policy wliich Eng- land has unvaryingly pursued in her deal- ings with Ireland, and with regard to the chief perennial source of weakness among the Irish themselves. After such a long series of years, in the course of which so many chief gover- nors and military leaders had reaped nothing in their conflicts with O'Neill and O'Donnell save utter defeat and con- sequent death or disgrace, at last there came on the scene, to assume control over English affairs in Ireland, a man of alto- gether different stamp of intellect. This was the celebrated Charles Blount, Lord Mountjoy, at once a man of learning and an experienced soldier; in short, a man of superior craft and superior energy, though many, even O'Neill himself, with all his penetration, had, before ]\Iountjoy was tested, been deceived into thinking him too indolent for successful action.- In February of the year IGOO Mountjoy was appointed lord-deputy. From the moment he landed in Ireland the fortune of war and of the old race began to change. In the soutli, where the motives of resistance to England were probably more religious than national, he sapped the confederation and seduced men from its ranks by his apparently tolerant views. He shewed, in Mr. Mitchel's words, " all the liberality, all the tenderness for Irish Catholics, that a British minister lias never failed to assume when a storm of Irish wrath was to be Aveathered or the hope of Irish nationhood to be crushed." He adopted, in short, the policy contained in two pitliy precepts of Bacon : to weaken the Irish by disunion, and to cheat them by a temporary indulgence of their wor- ship. The fear of persecution began to die out in the south, and with it the great bond of union between native and Norman Catholics. The same policy, however, would prove inadequate for the work of creating divisions in tlie confederate ranks in the northern part of the island, where the war was national rather than religious. There the seeds of dissension must be sown by endeavouring to seduce promi- nent men in the great families, with pro- mises of English support and recognition, to revolt against their chiefs and set up rival claims of chieftainship. Thus Nial Garhli, " the rugged," enters into traitor- ous correspondence with Sir Henry Docwra, Governor of Deny, revolts against Red Hugh, and lets an English garrison into I^iiford. Art, son of Tur- logh Lynnogh, becomes the queen's Sir Arthur O'Neill, revolts against the Prince of Tyrone, and claims the chieftaincy of the O'Neills for Imnself. Connor Roe Maguire, also being tampered with, stands PRELIMINARY SKETCH OF IRISH HISTORY. in the ranks of the enemy as " queen's Maguire." Nor is this plan considered by any means superfluous in INIunster either. There the lord-president, Sir George Carew, ably combmes it with the toleration " dodge." He devises means in tlie most ingenious manner to set the heads of the Irish by the ears, so that " they v/ould prove the most fit instru- ments to ruin one another."' Dermot O'Connor was one of the leading chiefs of the Munster army. His wife. Lady jMargaret, was sister to the hapless hen* of Desmond, unfortmiate Earl Gerald's son, who had for years languislied in cap- tivity in England. Carew works on this lady's jealousy of James — Hugh O'Xeill's Earl of Desmond, known in history as the " Sugan Earl" — and wins her to his interests. She in turn gains her husband over, and he agrees " for a consideration" to seize the earl and deliver him to the president. At the same time, to help this nefarious plot, Carew addresses a letter to the earl, in which he makes the most infamous proposals and promises; he coolly incites him to murder or snare into captivity Dermot O'Connor. The letter is extant; here is a passage from it: — " You may rest assirred that promises shall bee kept ; and you shall no sooner bring Dennond O^Cormor to me, alive or dead, and banish his bownoghs out of the countrie, but you shall have your demand satisfied, whii-h I thanke God I am both able and willing to performe." This letter was put into the hands of O'Con- nor, that he might say he had intercepted it, and miglit represent his seizure or assassination of James of Desmond as an act of self-defence against a secret foe. This detestable plot had only partial suc- cess. The earl was taken, but escaped for a time. Eventually, however, he was betrayed for a thousand pounds by the White Kn'"ght, also a Geraldine and his kinsman. He died in the Tower of London. Mr. IMitchel tells us that this rascal "president's secretary and historian details with much candour — rather, indeed, as a matter of triumph — many other dark machinations of his crafty master." I regi-et that want of space will not allow me to take farther advantage of this de- liglitful English candour, and give a few more specimens of Carew's subornings and other villanous intrigues. I have said enough, hov/ever, to enable the rejider to comprehend fully some of the IMachiavellian arts by means of which the English governors gradually undermined tlie Irisli league in Munster and elsewhere, so that O'Xeill^jould no longer hide from liimself the gloomy fact that the national party was breaking uji, at least in the south. Indeed it was now becoming too plam to all, for Carew " was soon enabled to overrun all Desmond, and to reduce, by force or treachery, the castles of Ask- eaton, Glymi, Carrig-a-foyle, Ardart, Liscaghan, Loughgv.dre. and many others, everywhere driving off the cattle and burning the houses and corn stacks; so that by the month of December (1(500) there was not one castle in all IMunster held against the queen, nor, in the lan- guage of Morryson, ' any company of ten rebels together.' " Duringthis year (1(>00), Mountjoy had been lucky in Ijcinster too. In a skirmish in I^eix: the gallant O'More, the hero of " the Pass of Plumes," was slain. JVIountjoy this same year cut down green corn which would have grown to be worth ten thousand pounds. Some Leinster chiefs were seduced to. become traitors to the cause of their country. Treachery was in the patriotic councils — confidence had vanished. Indeed, the military measures of Mount- joy were on a par with his civil policy. They were characterized by consummate skill and consummate cruelty. Large bodies of troops built forts and established garrisons at Derry and Ballyshannon. lliese and other forts, together with the treacherous revolt of Nial Garbh O'Don- nell, curbed and occupied Red Hugh, and prevented liim from effecting a junction with O'Neill, and co-operating witli him as of old. Derry also helps to keep O'Neill in check. Mountjoy forces his way through the Moyry Pass. He cuts down the woods and clears the country all round that difficult and dangerous de- file ; he also builds a fort at its entrance. Contenting himself with this for th(; pre- sent, he retires. On his way to Dublin, O'Neill, for whose head he has just offered a reward of two thousand 2>ounds, falls on him at the " Pass of Carlingford," and inflicts heavy loss on his army, Mountjoy himself being one of the wounded, lliroughout the winter the gallant Tyrrell still holds Meath for O'Neill, and defies the viceroy, who marches to Trim and Athlone, his track being marked everywhere by fire and de- vastation. 26 THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. ISText year (1601) Mount] oy again presses hard on O'Neill, and strives gradually to hem him in ; he constructs new or repairs old works. Ulster is iilled with his gar- risons, strong and abundantly supplied with all necessaries; these from time to time sally forth to burn and ravage, above all cuttmg down and trampling the com. Mouutjoy takes especial care to clear the woods that obstruct the defiles between Newry and the Blackwater, the scenes of so many disasters to the English in the earlier period of this war In spite of O'NeUl's untiring activity and occasional success in destroying marauding bands of the enemy, even in Ulster the gradual encroachments of the tide of conquest are becommg more visible every day. The advance of Mountjoy is steady — slow, indeed, but sure. Ten thousand English troops are on the sod of Ulster. O'Neill has still some expectation of receiving succour from Sixain. For years the Irish had been looking to the kindred Spaniards with hope and trust. In 1599 two envoys had come from Don Philip III., who had just mounted the throne of Spain; they brought twenty-tv/o thou- sand pieces of gold from the king, and from the Pope indulgences for those com- bating against English heresy and a "Phoenix plume" blessed by the Holy Father ; but now nothing short of a large expedition could serve or save Ireland. At last, about three thousand four hundred Spanish soldiers, many of them raw troops quite untrained in the use of arms, landed at ICinsale; a few years before such a force, making a descent on any part of our coast, might have secured Ireland's independence ; but it was now too late for so small an auxiliary force to be of any real service, especially landing as it did in Munster, where the patriotic struggle had died out completely. Had it landed in the north, it might even yet have given some chance of final victory to O'Neill. It is true that O'Neill and O'DonneU had concurred in the selection of a southern port, doubtless considering such a one most accessible to a Spanish fleet ; but it can hardly be doubted that they had expected a much more fonnid- able expedition. They had also relied on the fidelity of the clan Carrha and their chief, the MacCarthy More ; never dream- ing that without one manly blow the entire southern confederacy would in so brief a time have yielded to the corrupt and fraudulent arts of Momitjoy and Carew. The worst feature of the Spanish expe- ditionary force was thatDon Juan d'AguHa, the general commanding it, unlike most of the Spanish military chiefs of the six- teenth and early part of the seventeenth centiu-ies — the proud and palmy period of the Spanish monarchy, when Spainboasted that ' ' the sun never set on her empire " — was, if not faint-hearted, at least conceited and incompetent. He was at once dis- com'aged when he saw that none of the people of Mimster, save O'SuUivan Beare, O'Connor Kerry, and O'Driscol, had the patriotism or courage to rise and join him. Indeed, some of the high-toned Spaniards conceived an unreasonable con- tempt for the southern Irish, thinking even that " Chi-ist had never died" for such a people. Don Juan in a short time let hnnself be shut up in Kmsale by Mountjoy and Carew, who sat down be- fore that town with an army of fifteen thousand men, two-thnds of whom, melan- choly to relate, are asserted to have been Irishmen. The towns of I.Iunster sent their contingents to swell the queen's array. We find the Irish Earls of Tho-^ mondaud Clanrickarde holding high com- mand in the English army. The latter, in some of the succeeding operations, dis- tinguished liimseK more, both for bravery and ferocity, than any one else on the English side; he is even said to have killed with his o^m hand, at the battle of Kinsale, twenty of the Irish, and to have cried out to spare " no rebels." Carew compliments him by saying that "no man. did bloody his sword more than his lord- ship that day." At the call of Don Juan d'Agmla, O'Neill, at the head of between three and four thousand troops, and O'DonneU, at the head of two thousand five hundred men, at once marched southward, in order if possible to raise the siege of Kinsale and form a junction with the Spaniards. O'DonneU, though he leaves his princi- pality in a state of confusion and peril, hurries on -without losing an hour, and arrives first at Holycross, the place ap- pomted for a rendezvous with O'NeilL Mountjoy, like a skilful general, de- taches Carew with a strong force to try and crush O'DonneU before O'Neill can join him. O'DonneU is too weak to give battle, and is reluctant to give uj) the object of his march southward by retreat- PRELIMINARY SKETCH OF IRISH HISTORY. 27 ing on Ulster; yet how is he to elude Carew by a forced march over Slieve Felim into Limerick, when recent heavy rains have made the mountains and mo- rasses impassable for horses and carriages ? Most luckily, one night's hard fi'ost renders even the boggy places for a brief time passable ; O'Donnell waits for dark- ness, and then marches all niglit ; by morn O'Donnell is far away. The escape and prodigious celerity of " this light- footed general" amazed the baffled Carew. However, he fails not to exert himself strenuously, but all liis energy is thrown away. The loss is not to be redeemed; 'tis vain any longer to think of intercept- ing O'Donnell. Carew admits that the one day's march of O'Donnell from O'Meagher's country to Crome, thirty- two Irish miles, is " the greatest march that hath been heard of." High praise this, coming from so bitter an enemy. O'Donnell reaches Castlehaven in time to join seven himdred newly-arrived Spaniards, intended to reinforce d'Aguila. And now some signs of life appear among a few of the southern clans. Donough O'Di-iscol, Sir Finnan O'Driscol, and Donal O'Sidlivan receive Spanish garrisons into their castles, and declare manfully for their country's cause. Meanwhile, the English press the siege of Ivinsale vigorously. The Spaniards hold out stoutly ; they make several bold sorties; numbers are killed on both sides. The English strain every nerve to capture the town if pos- sible before O'Neill can come to relieve it; the Spaniards strain every nerve to keep the enemy at bay, and keep posses- sion of the town until his arrival. ]\Iean- while, by extraordinary efforts, the great Ulster chief gets together about four thousand men, and fights his way through Westmeath ; joined by the untiring Tyrrell, he makes a rapid march to the south-west, and effects a junction with O'Donnell and a portion of the small body of Spaniards recently landed at Castlehaven. O'Neill and the Irish army now cut Mountjoy off from his supplies; the besieger is himself besieged. Still, the odds against the Irisli are too great; against Mountjoy's fifteen thousand the Irish cannot muster seven thousand men ; yet the English are in a critical positioii — ^between two fires, so to speak. The Spaniards are still formidable, the Irish still resolute and animated by the memories of several years of victory. Sickness and the frequent desertions of their soldiers of Irish race thin the ranks of the English army ; the severity of the season, priva- tions, constant skirmishing are sure to waste them. O'Neill's plan was to per- severe in besieging the besiegers till tlieir strength should be exhausted (his own troops, meanwhile, gradually regaining the energy lost in then' late fatigues), and that then both Spaniards and Irish, com- bining their operations, should suddenly fall on the worn-out English, and com- plete their destruction. This was obviously the prudent course for the confederates to adopt ; but O'Donnell was too impetuous to bide his time patiently, and Don Juan, lacking the indomitable will and endur- ance of a heroic commander, was un- willing to bear the brunt of the siege any longer. The English deluded him "wdth false representations. O'Neill, im- portuned on all sides, was compelled to give a reluntant consent to attempt a night-attack on the British entrenchments. There is reason to believe that an ofiicer high in his confidence betrayed his plans to the enemy. On the fatal night of the 3rd of January, 1G02 (new style), the Irish marched in three divisions ; the ex- treme darkness seemed to favour their design, but the guides lost their way; hence the attack was delayed till at length morning Wtts approaching. The English were on the alert before daybreak. In short, the Irish, thinking to surprise the English, were themselves surprised. Don Juan d'Aguila and his Spanish gan-ison either failed to sally forth, or did so feebly and without effect. Some of CNeUl's cavalry and the troops under the brave Tyrrell made a gallant stand ; the Spaniards, also, who had joined O'Donnell at Castlehaven, disdainmg to fly, were almost entirely cut to pieces on the field of battle ; but these instances of valour were all unavailing : the Irish army was totally defeated, and the capitulation of Don Juan d'Aguila and his troops folloAved shortly after. Three days after this disastrous battle of Kmsale, O'Donnell took ship for Spaki; there he was received with the highest honours by king, nobles, and people ; he did all he could to persuade the king to send a fresh expedition to the aid of Ireland. At first, FhUip rseemed disposed to accede to his entreaties, but subse- quently the preparations for a fresh descent in force were countermanded. 28 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. Again, with heart* and brain on fire, O'Donnell was hurrying to the Court of Spain to renev/ his ahiiost hopeless suit, Avhen, at Simajicas, two leagues from Valladolid, "his proud heart broken," he found rest from all further struggles and disappouitments in death. The king ordered him to be buried with royal honours; and the hero's bones lie in the chapter of the Cathedral of St. Francis, in the city of Valladolid. Meanwhile, Hugh O'Neill after his defeat had retreated to the north, where he determined to make his final stand- During the spring ^lountjoy was occu- pied in trjdng to effect the reduction of Munster, which, with the aid of the per- fidious and cruel Carew, he succeeded in accomplishing, in spite of the gallant front shewn to the . foe by O'Sullivan Beare and O'Neill's active lieutenant, the valiant and faithful Tyrrell, and the noble defence of O'Sullivan Beare's Castle of Dunbuidhe by the indomitable Mac Geoghegan. Once more T\Iunster saw its lands and corn wasted and destroyed, its wide extent covered with blood and ashes ajid desolation; but Ulster, too, was about to have her turn of "fire, famine, and slaughter." Early in June, Mountjoy advanced northward to Armagh, and thence to Dvmgannon. O'Neill prepared for his last desperate struggle by setting fire to his town and castle of Dungannon ; then he betook himself to the forest and mountain-fastnesses in the centre of his territory ; " And backward to the den of his despair The forest-monarch shrinks, and finds no lair." But it is unnecessary in this brief sketch to dwell on the melancholy closing scenes of this noble struggle for Irish indepen- dence, which, if it had succeeded, would have made Ireland compact and strong; for, as I have already said, this great O'Neill had in his capacious soul the large idea of a united Irish nation. There is little reason to doubt that he would, if victorious, have introduced into Ireland the Spanish military discipline, then the first in the world, and would have welded into one great and well - consolidated monarchy the jarring elements of the Irish population. But,' alas ! this was not to be; it was otherwise writk'n in the book of fate. Vainly O'NeiU gallantly stands at bay for months of sore struggle and sacrifice ; vamly his faithful clansmen resist the gold and treacherous lures of the Saxon, spit upon all offers of reward for his betrayal, and suffer and die heroi- cally for their beloved chief and their dear old Celtic customs and rights. Like fiends incarnate, JMountjoy and his Saxon soldiers — and, worse still, his queen's O'Beillys and queen's Macguires — cut down the green corn, trampling it under foot, and leaving it to rot, and devastate the entire country. In the woods of Glan-con-keane, with only- six hundred infantry and about sixty horse, O'Neill makes his last stand, and thrusts back the foe through the whole winter; but he hears that Connaught too is subdued. Where is he now to look for succour? What hope is there remainmg of help, either at home or from foreign lands? Besides, his people are everpvhere dying of famine. Moryson, who was with Mountjoy's army, tells us "that no spec- tacle was more frequent in the ditches of tov»rns, and especially of wasted countries, than to see multitudes of the poor people dead, Avith their mouths all coloured green by eating nettles, dock, and all things they could rend up above ground." Chichester and Sir Robert Moryson on one occassion this winter "saw a hor- rible spectacle — three children, the eldest not above ten years old, all eating and gnawing with their teeth the entrails of their dead mother, on whose flesh they had fed for twentj^ daj's past." Again, Moryson tells us, on the authority of Captain Trevor, one of the English offi- cers, how some old women are making a fire in a field near Newry, "and divers little children driAang out the cattle in the cold mornings, coming thither to warm them, are by them stii'prised and killed and eaten." Is it then wonderful that O'Neill, seeing his land and people a prey to such desolation and horrors, at last despairs ? Surely all immediate pros- pect of winning his country's liberty is at an end. The sole chance left for Ire- land is to save the remnant of the old race for better times. On the SOtli of March, 1603, O'Neill, now sixty yeans old, worn in frame and stricken hi heart, on bended knees submitted to the lord- deputy at Mcllifont. Ireland seems at last about to be Anglicized and her con- quest made complete. Yet O'Neill surrendered on good tcmis» all things considered. The queen wae anxious to win his submission at any PRELIMINARY SKETCH OF IRISH HISTORY. 29 price, for, even reduced to such terrible straits, he was still a formidable foe. Just about this time the illustrious virgin- vixen died. Jr.mes VI. of Scotland, who succeeded her as James I. of England, confirmed the favourable conditions granted to O'Xeill. He, indeed, and the chiefs his allies, were to give up their Celtic chieitiiinships and surrender their lands to tlie crown; but they were to receive full pardon, and with certain reservations to have the whole of the lauds held by their several clans regranted to them by royal " letters -patent." (yXeill, restored in blood in spite of attainder and outlavfry, was reinstated in his earldom of Tyrone. Roderick O'Donnell, Red Hugh's brother and suc- cessor, v/as created Earl of Tyr-Connell. The enjoyment of full and free exercise of their religion was gi'anted alike to cliiefs and people. Such was the ter- mination of Hugh O'Neiirs memorable struggle for Irish freedom. But I need hardly add that all these conditions were before long violated by the English ; robbery and persecution were soon "let slip" again upon the Irish. In 1G07 a charge of conspiracy, real or pretended, was trumped up against O'Neill and Earl Roderick ; they felt that their lives wci-e in danger. O'Neill had before this complained of the base esjjionage to which he was subjected — "that he had so many eyes watching over hun that he could not drink a full carouse of sack but the state was adver- tised thereof a few hours after." It was liard for t!ic proud spirit of O'Neill to have to endure a state of thmgs like this ; still he yielded to necessity, and bore on in peace till, in 1G07, he and Earl Roder- ick, finding their lives in jeopardy, de- cided on flying from their country. They, their relatives, and numerous other friends, embarked at RathmuJkn, on the shores of Lough Swilly, on the 14th of September, 1607, and gazed from the ship for the last time on the land for whicli they had fought so many battles. Landing in Normandy, they afterward visited Flanders ; finally, the weary- hearted exiles found refuge in Rome. Here they lived on a pension from the Pope and the King of .Spain. In his old a^e the illustrious chief of Tyr-Owen became blind; he died in the year 1616. After the flight of the earls all their vast possessions were seized by the crown ; six counties in Ulster were confiscated. Grants of lands were made to a host of Scotch and English " undertakers." Vast estates were parcelled out among London companies and guilds. This "plantation of Ulster," as it was called, Ava,s the origin of the great admixture of Scottish blood which we find in all the counties of Ulster. To this day we hear in that province a modification of the Scotch accent, and we can trace in . the inhabi- tants some of the peculiar traits of the Scottish character and habits; yet the old Celtic element still preponderates. If any projects for extea'minatmg the natives had been entertained, they failed miserably; the natives in their depressed state increased and multiplied more thaxi the favoured colonists. James I. also granted lands to the Established Church and to Trinity College — two institutions thoroughly anti-Irish in theii' tendency: the latter had been founded in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, during the vice- royalty of the corrupt Fitzwiliiam, on the site of the suppressed monastery of All- Hallows. Th e great and peculiar hardship of these Irish confiscations consisted in the fact that not merely the chiefs who became obnoxious to the English rulers were thereby dispoiled of their estates, but all the people composing their tribes were robbed at the same tune, and re- duced to penury; for, by the old Irisli law, all the lands ruled by each chief, so far from being his exclusive or absolute property, were the property of the entire tribe, and liable on certain occasions to redistribution. A system like this, want- ing fixed appropriation of land, seems not very favourable to agriculture. Indeed, some writers, considering these old Celtic land tenures and certain other Celtic customs to be incompatible with a high state of refinement and civilization, seem, in reviewing these wars of Ireland, always to regard the English as tlie champions of civilization, and the cause of Ireland as identical with that of barbarism, it' not savagery, and consequently to look upoB its loss or ruin as something not to bo regretted by the wise. Sir Archibald Alison, as might be expected, talks of the Irish as always resisting civilization ; but it is somewhat strange to find even Moore, while he cannot Avithhold a certam amount of sjTupathy from the patriotic struggles of his countrymen, at the same time seeming to be troubled 30 THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. ■with some misgivings as to whether he ought not to contemplate with satisfaction the successes of England as the triumphs of civilization ; he seems, in short, for €ver in doubt v.hether he should call the Irish, fighting for their own, patriots or rebels. Apparently it seldom or never occurs to these "philosophic historians" that a country like Ireland pays a trifle too dearly even for civilization, if the price be the extermination of her brave children; or that if she should succeed in throwing off the yoke and driving out her civilizing oppressors, her own sons might compensate her for the loss of a foreign by the development of a high and refined native ci\ilization. If O'Neill, for instance, bad succeeded in his efforts for Irish independence, why might not he and his successors have gradually abolished such Celtic institutions as stood in the way of what is nicknamed "pro- gress," and developed a new Irish civiliz- ation, better adapted to modern ideas and requirements than the old forms could be? In the portion of his "Nor- man Conquest" that refers to our grand struggle for more than seven hundred years against the English sway, the great French historian Thierry shews a far profounder insight and knowledge of the real spirit and teaching of Irish history, and manifests broader and more generous sympathies with our people, than any other historian, whether foreign or Irish. He glorifies that noble struggle of our race, only paralleled by the Spanish struggle of nine hundred years against the Moors; calls the fidelity of generation after generation of Irishmen to a cause ever lost, the son v/ith little hope of success taking up and bearing aloft in battle the standard trampled on by the foe in the days of his sire, and then, when defeated in turn, still handing down the old quarrel to his son, — Thierry, I say, calls this unconquerable tenacity of the Irish, this immortal clinging to the hopes of one day winning their mdepend- ence, one of the noblest and most touch- ing things in all history. He quotes with applause the heroic words of Donald O'aSTeill in his letter addressed to Pope John XXII. in the fourteenth century: "Hatred produced by lengthened recol- lections of injustice, by the murder of our fathers, brothers, and kindred, and which will not be cxtmguished in our time nor in that of our sons." From [ the days of this "plantation of Ulster," the war of races in Ireland, which Thierry- places in so clear a light, became more and. more envenomed. Religious rage nd hate, too, waxed bitterer. The only actual rebellion, however, during James I.'s reign, was the revolt of the gallant young chief of Innishowen, Sir Cahir O'Dogherty, who met with considerable success at first, but was killed a few- months after he took the field. I have dwelt on the rebellions of Queen Elizabeth's reign, and the consequences that flowed from them, longer than to some may appear warrantable in a brief summary like the present. If I have done so, it is because I am inclined to think that in these wars all the glorious and all the hideous features of Irish history are more conspicuous than in any of the struggles of earlier or more recent date. In the Elizabethan wars you have the most shining examples of Irish patri- otic resistance, the most striking illustra- tions of that great curse of the Irish race, dissension, and the most vivid pictures of English fraud and ferocity. INIoreover, in the events of Elizabeth's and James's reigns the seeds of the most important occurrences of later generations were sown. In the reigns of the Tudor sove- reigns, and in that of James I., a total revolution gradually took place in the forms of Irish society. Tlie old Celtic usages and manners and costume dis- appeared, and the foundations of our modern society, with its very different customs, were laid. English laws super- seded the Brehon code. The English language began its struggle with the Gaelic. The distmction between the pale and the Irish territories virtually disappeared, though we still sometimes hear the lords of the Pale spoken of. Theoretically, at least, the mere Irish are at length presumed to be entitled to the rights and privileges of the king's subjects of English blood. In short, in James's reign, for the first time, Ireland, super- ficially at least, wears the aspect of a subdued and Anglicized country. I may here observe that the union of the Scot- tish and English crowns was undoubtedly a great misfortune for the cause of Irish independence. An independent Scotland would occasionally prove an ally to Ire- land, or create for Irish insurgents a seasonable diversion. It is by no means necessary, then, that PRELIMINARY SKETCH OF IRISH HISTORY. 31 I should do much more than refer to the subsequent wars of 1641 and those that arose out of the Kevohition of 1688. The tyramiical but able administration of Wentworth, better known as the Earl of Strafford, by intensifying the sense of intolerable Avrong in the hearts and souls of the Irish, prepared the way for the outbreak of 1641. Strafford's extortions, frauds, and tyrannies in Ireland also en- abled the English House of Commons to sweU the charges which served them as a pretext for brmging him to the scaffold when they commenced their memorable quarrel with his equally ill-starred master, Charles I. The wars in Ireland which followed the insurrection of 1641 are in a great degree a repetition of the old story. We have atrocities on both sides. We have fractions of the Irish race giving the English, assisted by other sections of the Irish race, the utmost trouble to sub- due them. We have, indeed, in these campaigns a most extraordinary amount of " confusion worse confounded." We have two English parties in Ireland in arms against the native Irish party, and at the same time hostile to each other — that of the king and that of the English Puritan Parliament. We have a section of the so-called Irish rebels professing loyalty to the king and hostility to the English Parliament. "We have another section open enemies to every person and thing English. The pope's legate, Riu- uccinni, is chiefly sustained by this sub- division. ■ I omit to notice all minute shades and distinctions of party. The myth of the famous " Kilkenny cats " is almost realized. At one time, in the course of this struggle, we find in Ireland about fourteen armies in the field. This war was the natural result of "the plan- tation of Ulster." Bishop Mant, how- ever, in his Church History, can only see in the outbreak of 1641 an instance of the retributive justice of Providence, on account of the guilty connivance at Popery on the part of English rulers in Ireland during a portion of the administration of Blount (Lord Mountjoy). Among the principal military leaders who appeared in this war three are conspicuous. Two of these are Irish ; the third English. Of the Irish, the Marquis of Ormond, like most of the race of the Butlers, fights for the King of England against the cause of Ireland. The other eminent Irishman, Owen Roe O'Neill (a truly great man, even according to the admission of writers in no degree friendly or just to the Irish or their cause), rivals the most glorious of Ireland's patriots and chiefs of every age. He wins a victory over IMunro and his Scots greater and more memorable than any victory over British troops won in Ireland before or since. I allude to the victory of Benburb, achieved on the 5th of Jime, 1646, which gave Owen Roe possession of all Ulster. At one period of this war Ireland seemed; indeed, on the point of assuming the aspect of a nation. The Confederation of Kilkemiy at first appears to promise glorious re- sults. The General Assembly wears the short - lived semblance of a veritable National Assembly, A great seal is- struck; a mint is established; there are printing-presses for publication of ordin- ances; some admirable enactments for encouragement of foreign commerce are passed ; arrangements for the manage- ment of internal affairs, both military and civil, are made; some of these are judicious; others, such as the division of the Catholic army of Ireland into several independent commands, fatal. With all the short- comings of the Confederation of KUkenny, duringthe sitting of the General Assembly, towards the close of 1642, Ireland was more like a nation than she had ever been before. But, as usual, accursed dissension ruined everything; and most imfortunately for the Irish cause, Owen Iloe dies at Cloughouter Castle, in Cavan, on the 6th of November, 1649, not with- out suspicion of poison. After his death there remained no one in Ireland fit to cope with Cromwell, the terrible and renowned general of the English par- liamentarians. He mercilessly crushes for the time the Irish and their cause in blood and fire. Fain would he send the whole Irish race "to hell or Connaught." Famine and the sword once more mow down the Irish. Fresh confiscations on an enormous scale follow Cromwell's, triumph. Fresh seeds of hatred and vengeance are sown in the souls of the- Irish. Additional memories of wrong are borne along on the stream of time, even down to our own days. The hos- tility of rival races and religions is keener than ever. In the reign of Charles II. little was done to repair the violence and Avrong inflicted on the Irish by the Common- wealth. The acts of settlement and ex- 32 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CORNELL. planation give scant justice to Catholics; indeed, it is said that about this period five thousand Catholic Irish, never out- lawed, were sliut out by law from pos- session of their lands. In this reign the judicial murder of the venerable and exemplary Oliver Plunkett, the .Catholic primate of Ireland, took place in London. After the CromwelHan wars wc begin to hear of the Irish tories and rapparees, of whom Redmond O'Hanlon and Gallop- ing O'Hogan were among the most famous or notorious. These tories and rapparees are not to be classed with ordinary rob- bers or brigands; they are, in truth, the last remains of the patriotic resistance of those times, Celtic valour reduced to a half -combative, half -fugitive condition; soldiers gradually acquiring the predatory habits of the ordinary outlaw. There are many parallel cases in the history of other lands and times : thus, as Thierry in liis Nonnan Conquest shews, Hereward, jmd later, Robin Hood, and others, with their bands of outlaws, were the last re- mains of the more regular Saxon resist- ance to the Norman conquest. Perhaps some of the bands of Neapolitan brigands in Murat's reign were of the same stamp. Rob Roy ]*.Iacgregor, too, and his clan, are to be looked on rather as waging an irregailar Avarfare of vengeance against Tulers and laws and a society, in short, that had ruthlessly proscribed and tj-ran- nized over tliem, than in the odious light of an ordinary captain and band of rob- bers. Probably, if Napoleon the Great had succeeded in conquering Spain, many of the guerilla corps in that country would liave gradually degenerated till they be- came in time little better than mere pre- datory bands. The rapparees seem to have taken j^art in the Williamite wars ■on the side of James II. as partizan troops. On the English side a far more re- j)nlsive class of individuals arose in Ire- land in those sad times — a class which then, or at a later period, received the hideous appellation of the head-cutters. We find some of them so late as the early jiart of the eighteenth century. These wretches used, for various amounts of blood-money, to hunt to the death tories, .rapparees, and other persons of Irish race obnoxious to the British Govermuent, and 'bring in their heads.' Captain Adam Loftus and Lieutenant Francis Rowles- ton earned money in this diabolical way. Johnstone, of the Fews, in Armagh, and one Pepper, the murderer of Patrick Fleming; the last baron of Slane, are two of the most notorious among the head- cutters. The Williamite wars present to our view most of the principal features of former Irish wars against the English. In the first place, we see a portion of the Irish nation contending once more for freedom against the might of England, assisted by a different section of Irish- men. On this occasion England has also a po'werful auxiliary force of foreigners ; yet against all these odds Ireland for three years bore up so gallantly that it was with the utmost difficulty England finally prevailed over her. When in all these Irish wa^rs we see a fraction, greater or less, of the Irish race contending with the whole power of England, assisted by other Irish, and yet winning many victories and keeping tlie English forces at bay for long years, and in the end liardly con- quered, the question irresistibly forces itself on us. What would have been tlie result of any one of those struggles if Ireland had been united? If the Irish were to-day, or at any period, united as one man against tlie English, England's hold on Ireland would not be worth one month's purchase, seeing that a mere fraction of the race can always put British supremacy in the greatest peril. We have even seen the small tribe of the O'Byrnes in the glens of Wicklow, under Fiach Mac Hiigh, maintaining tlieir indepen- dence in tiie tceCh, so to speak, of Dublin Castle, centuries after Henry II.'s in- vasion, and even during the vigorous reign of Elizabeth. Schamyl's defiance for years in our own century of 200,000 Muscovite soldiers in the Caucasus was not a greater feat tlian this, relatively. A district equal to the whole of Wicklow would not be missed out of Rhode Island, the smallest state of the American Union ; and of Wicklow, the territory of the O'Byrnes formed only a portion. It may then be boldly affirmed that Ireland, if true to herself, ought at anj^ time to be able to drive the English garrisons into the sea. The wars of William were attended, like former Irish wars, with varying for- tune. Deny and the l^oyne are boasted of by the Englisli party. The first siege of Athlone, and still more the first siege of Limerick, are the pride and glory of the Irish. The second siege of Limerick PRELIMINARY SKETCH OF lUISH HISTORY. 33 !iw\ the battle of Aiiglirim, in spite of the final event in each case, are perhaps more gloi-ious for the Irish than for the English. Aughrim, it is next to certain, wonld have been an Irish victory, but for the chance ball, if chance it were, that carried off the head of the JMarquis of St. Ruth. A few moments before tlie fatal stroke, he declared that the Irish infantry were | immortjdizing themselves, and that he j ■w-ould speedily drive the English before ! liim to the gates of Dublin. In this war \ the English were somewhat less bloody amd cruel than in their other Irish wars. However, it was followed by the usual amount of confiscations. The treaty of Limerick, which brought the struggle to a close, seemed at first to secure pro- tection and the free exercise of their religion to the Catholics of Ireland. But its conditions were subsequently most shamefully violated. In breach of all good faith, the terrible penal code was established, which for almost a century deprived the Catholic body of Ireland of all civil rights. During the greater part of the eighteenth century they were absolutely deprived of political existence ; in fact, throughout that dreary time the real Irish nation disappears from history, except as soldiers in the ranks of foreign armies. During this period Irish adven- turers (the "wild-geese" as they were •styled) reaped immortal laurels in the celebrated " Irish Brigade " in the service of kindred France, and on Fontenoy and other hard-fought battle-fields of Conti- nental Europe drove the ranks of their liated hereditary foe before them in wildest rout and ruin. After I com- mence O'Connell's life, I shall find oc- casion to speak in detail of the various penal enactments and their subsequent relaxation; also, to give some pictures illustrative of the manner in which they coloured and influenced life in Ireland wiiile they remained in force. Hardly any relaxation of this grim and infernal <-ode had taken place when O'Connell was born, in 1755. 1 V cveiting f or a m oment to the Williamite wars, the episode of the arrival of Bal- «learghO'Donnell,and his enthusiastic re- ception by the people of Donegal as chief of TjT-Connell, after an interval of more than eighty years since the flight of their last chief, Earl Roderick, is singularly illustrative of the Celtic tenacity of old traditions and memories. Macaiday, in his usual style of caricature or ridicule, gives an account of this restoration of a djTiasty, as he sneeringly calls it. He says, however, that the interest felt by the Irish in the fortuues of Baldeargh was much more lively and genuine than that which they felt in King James II. By the way, it is curious enough that, in spite of the strong dislike and prejudice which Macaulay entertains towai'ds Ire- land and the Irish, almost the only per- son in his great work whom this I^esage of history shews in a truly honourable light, is the gallant Sarsfield. Macaulay never once denies the manliness, honour, generosity, patriotism and courage of Sarsfield ; while for nearly all the remark- able English soldiers and sailors and statesmen and divines he has little better appellations to bestow than liar, rogue, scoundrel, double-dyed traitor, and cow- ard. In truth, his book might justly be called a sort of historical Gil Bias, for its main interest consists in its pro- fusion of brilliant and spicy sketches of the profound rascality of nearly all the English public characters, Wliig as well as Tory, in the days of the " happy and glorious" Revolution of 1688. And, indeed, it may be reasonably doubted whether Macaulay's is not the only way to make the larger portion of modem English history really interesting, particidarly the history of 1688. There are fewer lofty and magnanimous charac- ters in Elnglish history than in almost any other. But there Avas an especial dearth of noble men in England about the epoch of this Revolution of 1688. Even Mordaunt, afterwards l^^arl of Peter- borough, was more grandiose than truly grand. IJesides, he was crooked in mind. To write, then, the history of that time in a strain of enthusiasm would be quite an absurd mistake, the like of which Macaulay rarely falls into. In the case of the trial of the seven Church of Eng- land bishops, indeed, he tries to lash himself into an elevated vein, but the enthusiasm is hardly genuine. How could it be so? Those bishops did not care one sixpence for popular liberty ; in truth, as their subsequent conduct shewed, they disliked it, and were prepared to op- pose revolution at almost any personal sacrifice. As patriots they were thorough shams. They were complete slaves to the abject doctrine of the indefeasible divine right of kings. If, for a brief 34: THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. space, they ventured to resist an arbitrary mandate of James, it was simply because lie had wounded and roused to a high pitch of wrath their feelings of bigotry against Catholics _, and other non-con- formists, by trying to force them to read to their congi-egations his letter or decla- ration of toleration. In short, Macaiday's rhetoric in telling the story of the bishops wants the genuine ring of sincerity ; and he hits on the true method of making his history of the Revolution of 1688 interest- ing, when he imitates the subject-matter and style of a Spanish picaresco novel. In concludmg this summary, I may remark that, according to some calcu- lations, the whole soil of Ireland has been confiscated about six times over. In a land so tormented with civil strife and liable to changes of all sorts, the new landed proprietors, introduced by eacii fresh revolution, would naturally feel the possession of their ill-got estates insecure. Hence they woidd make haste to wring all they could from their wretched ten- ants. No sentiments of sympathy or kindliness would grow up between land- lord and tenant. The mutual bad feeling would be inlierited from their su-es by succeeding generations of proprietors and tenants. The antagonism of race would thrive more and more each day. And thus it came to pass in Ireland that even when the time arrived in which his pos- session was perfectly secure, the Irish landlord continued to oppress and extort from his tenant, and at the same tune to fear the " wild justice "' of his revenge. THE LIFE OF DANIEL O'CONNELL. CHAPTER I. Birth— Family— Scenery of Ireland in general, and of Kerry in particular. Daniel O'Coknell — one of the most illustrious, if not the most illustrious, of the pubhc men of Ireland — was born in Carhen House, the residence of his father, 'Mr. Morgan O' Conn ell, near the small town of Cahirciveen, m the county of Kerry, on the 6th of August, 1775. When, long years after, the flippant Times commissioner said derisively of Cahirciveen that "there wasn't a pane of glass in the whole town,* O'Connell re- pUed humorously in behaK of a town that might almost be called his birthplace, — '' If the commissioner had as vaanj pains in liis beliy, his tongue would be more veracious and his wanderings less erratic." There now remains not a vestige of the house in which O'Connell was born. One morning, when already an old man, he stood with his friend and secretary, Mr. O'Neill Daunt, on the high ground at HUgrove, overlooking the spot where he first saw the light. He pointed to the crumbling ruins of Carhen House, and spoke thus: — " I was born there, but not in the house whose ruins you see. I was bom in a house of which there is now no vestige, and of which the materials were used in constructing the edifice now dilapidated. Do you see that stream? Many a trout I have caught in it in my youthful days. Those meadows near the river were always good land, but beyond was very unprofitable, boggy soil. My father always grew enough of wheat for tiie use of the family. Those ash trees behind the house on the other side of the river stand where there was once an old grove of much grosser ash trees. They were worth one hundred pounds; and my father one day thought jiroper to seU them for fifteen pounds. Mj^ uncle, General O'Connell, left Ireland to enter the French service at the age of fourteen, and he rose so rapidly that I was inspired by his example with an ambition to dis- tinguish myself. I always had one object in my ambitious views, and that was to do something for Ireland. My family had ever been Jacobites, as was only natural from the persecution the Catho- lics suffered. But they committed no overt acts of Jacobitism, their zeal ex- tended no farther than keeping a print of the Pretender in the house. When the first Emancipationf Acts passed, in 1778 and 1782, their speculative Jacobitism was very much melted away as they saw the prospect opening to them of doing well under the reigning dynasty." O'Connell was very much displeased with " Mask," an anonymous writer who described his origin as humble. He states himself that his father's family was very ancient, and that his mother was a lady of the first rank. O'Connell was a Celt of pm-e blood; his mother's maiden name was Kate O'jMuUane; she was the daughter of Mr. O'Mullane of Whitechurch, near Cork, the represen- tative of an old Catholic family, and pro- prietor of a fair estate, which subsequently passed by purchase into the hands of the O'Conneils. For his mother O'Connell seems to have felt all tliat unbounded love and veneration of which his large, exuberant, and loving nature was capable. He delighted in giving expression to these feelings. Long after her death, when he was himself a grandfather, he writes of her to the Belfast Vindicator of the 20th of January, 1841, in the following 36 THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. terms: — "Yes, I ought to respect the sex in a peculiar nticonner. I am the son of a sainted mother, who watched over my childhood with the most faithful care. >She was of a high order of intellect, and what little I possess has been bequeathed by her to me. I may in fact say, without vanity, that the superior position in which I am placed by my countrymen has been owing to her. Her last breath was passed, I thank Heaven, in calling down blessings on my head, and I have valued her blessing since. In the perils and the dangers to which I have been exposed through life, I have regarded her bless- ing as an angel's shield over me ; and as it has been my protection in this life, I look forward to it also as one of the means of obtaining hereafter a happiness greater than any this world can give." From this it will be seen that O'Con- nell was of opinion that he inherited his abilities from his mother, and that th€ splendid success which crowned his eiforts during so long a portion of his career, and which caused him to occupy so vast a space in the minds of his countrymen, and even of foreigners, was mainly due to her. The great Napoleon held much the same opinion respecting his mother. He believed that the marvellous energy of his character was derived from her. (ioethe and numbers of other great men believed that they owed a similar debt of gratitude to their mothers. Indeed, though it be not universally the case, the instances in biography and history are striking and of frequent occurrence in which great men are under obligations to their mothers for the possession of their highest gifts and energies, both intellec- tual and moral. Yet, liowever large may have been the share of his solid or more brilliant quali- ties which O'Connell owed to his mother, he must likewise have derived many strong features of his character from the paternal side, for the O'Connell's who came be- fore him were no common stock. They possessed both energy and shrewdness in a high degree. The latter quality appears to have enabled them to steer their way rather adroitly through the long ages of strife and intrigue, warfare and pro- scriptions, confiscations and penal laws that passed away from the invasion of Henry II. to the bu^h of the future " Liberator." This craft or shrewdness at least helped them to preserve a far goodlier portion of landed pro- perty, indeed, a better share of the world's goods in general, than what many families far more renowned in Irish his- tory were able to retain. Indeed, as a rule (and we might naturally expect that it would be so), the powerful Lish fami- lies and those most illustrious for stern heroic resistance to the encroachments of the foreigner suffered the greatest reverses. We see this in the history of the varying fortunes of the O'Neills, O'Donnells, MacCarthys, O'Byrnes, Mac jNIahons, O'Connors, O'Reillys, Fitzgeralds of the south, and numbers of other tribes. The families that prospered were generally families of time-servers and deserters from the national caixse. The O'Con- nells (or O'Conals) of old times, if not exactly lukewarm in their country's cause, and too ready to serve the stranger, at least possessed a good deal of Avordh- prudence, or, in other words, something of the wisdom of the serpent. Originallj' driven from Connelloe, in Limerick, they became chiefs of Iveragh, in Kerry.' Generally speaking, they prospered. In 1837 we find King Edward III. authoriz- ing Hugh O'Connell to reduce to submis- sion, by force of arms, certain clans in the comity of Limerick. This chief's son, another Hugh, vigorously defends the lands of his clan against the invasions of the Mujister Geraldines, and also mixes the blood of the O'Connells with the illustrious race of Brian Boiroihme, by contracting a marriage with Marguerita, daughter of the Prince of Tliomond. Jeffery O'Connell (the son of Hugh and Marguerita), wliose name appears as chief of his "nation " in a royal order on ther Irish Exchequer, bearing date 1372, mar- ried Catherine O'Connor, whose father was chieftain of Traghty O'Connor. Their son Daniel is mentioned as chief in a treaty dated 1421. He married a daughter of the gallant house of O'SuUi- van Beare. Their- son, a third Hugh, Avas knighted by Sir Richard Nugent, who subsequently became lord-deputy of Ire- land. King Henry VII. rewarded this chief for promoting the interests of Eng- land. By Hugh's marriage the house of O'Connell was able to boast another splendid family alliance, for Mary, his bride, was the daughter of MacCarthy More. Maurice, their son, took sides against Kmg Henry VII. with Perkin Warbcck, when that impostor or adven- THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 37 turer landed in Ireland to assert his claim to the sovereignty of England and Ireland, in his assumed character of Dnke of York, and son to Ixhvard IV. Somehow, Maui'ice managed to procure a pardon from Henry VII. on the 24rth of August, 1496. Later we find Morgan O'Comiell paying- crown-rent in acknowledgment of the authority of Hcury VIII., and figuring as Edward VI.'s high-sheriff for the county Kerry. Richard, son of jMorgan, served in the army of Queen Elizabeth durmg the wars of Desmond. Diuing the com- motions and wars that followed the out- break of IG-il, Daniel O'Conuell of -'ighgore, in Iveragh, contrived to pre- serve his estate by carefully abstaining from taking any part m the rebellion. It is agreeable to find that in the Williamite wars the O'Connells took the side of their country: Mamice O'ConneU, of the coimty Clare, was brigadier-general and colonel of the king's guards; John O'ConneU, the lineal ancestor of '' the Liberator, and possessor of the very place which was bequeathed to him by his uncle, Darrynane Abbey, raised and commanded a company of foot, which was embodied in this reguneut of royal guards ; Captain John O'ConneU fought, not without dis- tinction, at Deny, the Boyne, and Augh- rim. He was included in the capitulation of Limerick. O'ConneU, in the face of considerable stupid and unmeaning uproar and interruption, told an amusing anec- dote of this military ancestor of his to that whimsical body of legislators, the English House of Commons, which, though on most occasions sufficiently ob- servant of the decorum that befits grave deliberative assemblies, occasionally ta,kes a fit of transforming itself into an up- I'oarious and unruly mob. In spite of •' their beastly bellowings," to use the language by which he characterized their vociferations on simdry occasions, he told this anecdote of Captain John: " On the morning of the battle of Aughrim, an aaicestor of mine, who commanded a com- pany of infantry in King James's army, rej)rimanded one of his men who had neglected to shave himself. ' Oh, your honour,' said the soldier, ' whoever takes the trouble of cutting my head off in battle may take the trouble of shaving it when he goes home.' " The captain's son was named Daniel. He was "the Liberator's" grandfather. " The Libei-ator's "' father, Morgan, ap- pears to have possessed all the shrewdness of the race. In spite of the obstacles which the penal laws (concerning which detesttable enactments I intend presently to speak more at large) threw in the way of all inheritance, acquisition or testamen- tary devising of landed property by Catholics, Morgan contrived to acquire a smaU estate by purchase. This estate was held in trust for him by a Protestant, and so the prohibitory enactment was evaded. O'ConneU on one occasion observed very justly, in reply to a priest who expressed wonder that the operations of the penal laws " left any Catholic estates in posses- sion of then- rightful owners," that •' there would not have been any, only that indi- vidual Protestants were found a great deal honester than the laws. The Free- man famUy, of Castlecor, were trustees for a large number of Catholic gentlemen in the county of Cork. In Kerry there was a Protestant named Hugh Falvey who acted as trustee for many Catholic pro- prietors there. In Dublin there was a poor Protestant in very hiunble circiun- stances who was trustee for several Catho- lic gentlemen, and discharged his trust with perfect integrity." All this surely is very honourable to human nature in general, and to Irish nature in particular. Mr. O'NeiU Daunt, in his interesting Personal Recollections of 0'' Council — to which I may here observe I am in- debted for the above particulars, and to which I shall be under a large amount of indebtedness before I reach the conclusion of the present biography — tells us that O'ConneU had an estate caUed Glcncara, near the Lake of Cahara, which had been in the O'ConneU family from days anterior to those of the penal code. When Mr. Daunt expressed astonishment that Glen- cara had escaped confiscation, O'ConneU repUed, •• Oh, they did not find it out. It is hidden among wild mountains in a veiy remote situation, which was wholly inaccessible in those days from the want of roads, and thus it escaped their clutches." On another occasion, O'ConneU said to O'Neill Daunt, " If ever I took a title, it would be Earl of Glencara." In Dr. Smith's History of Kerry, strange to say, there is hardly any mention of the O'ConneU family. But this can be satis- factorily accounted for. It appears that Dr. Smith once visited Darrynane, and spent some days with O'Connell's grand- father. The old gentleman entertained 38 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. the historian most hospitably, and gave him many interesting details of local and family history. Dr. Smith, pleased with the particulars communicated to him, annomiced his intention of giving a conspicuous place in his history to the tra- ditions of the O'Comiell tribe. But his host entreated him not on any account to carry out this flattei-ing idea. " We have peace in these glens, Mr. Smith," said old Mr. O'Connell, '' and amid their seclusion enjoy a respite from persecution. We can still in these solitudes profess the beloved faith of ovir fathers. If man is against us, God assists us. lie gives us wherewithal to pay for the education of our children in foreign lands and to further their ad- vancement in the Irish Brigade ; but if you make mention of me or mine, these sea- side solitudes will no longer yield us an asylum. The Sassenagli will scale the mountains of Darrynane, and we too shall be driven out upon the world without house or home. Djr. Smith complied with the wishes of the venerable head of the O'Coimells. In his liistory there is only a slight mention of the O'Connell clan. John O'Connell of Ashtown, near Dub- lin, one of O'Counell's famOy, brother of a lineal ancestor, " proved his good affec- tion " to Oliver Cromwell in the year 1655, became a Protestant, and by tliis unworthy time-serving saved his pro- perty from confiscation. "I saw his escutcheon," says O'Connell, spealdng towards the end of the year 1840, " on the wall of St. James's Chiu-ch in Dublin, some twenty years ago; I don't knov»' if it be there still." But it was in foreign lands that the O'Connell family acquired the greatest lustre during the eighteenth century. Throughout the hori'id reign of " brutal Brunswick's penal laws " the bold and aspiring youths of Catholic Ireland could find no theatre at home for the gratifica- tion of their ambition or the development of their noblest energies. There or in England the portals of the temple of glory were rudely closed against them. But in the canips and courts of other lands the avenues leading to renown were open to the Irish Catholic adventurer. Speaking of the penal days, Lord Macaulay says : ' ' There were indeed Irish Koman Catholics of great ability, eiiergy, and ambition, but they were to be found everj'Avliere except in Ireland — at Ver- sailles and at Saint Ildefonso, in the armies of Frederick and in the armies of Maria Theresa. One exile became a marshall of France ; another became ]irime minister of Spain. If he had stayed in his native land he would have been re- garded as an inferior by all the ignorant and worthless squireens who drank the glorious and immortal memory. In his palace at Madrid he had the pleasure of being assiduously courted by the ambas- sador of George II., and of bidding defi- ance in high terms to the ambassador of George III." — Don Ricardo Wall was the Irish prime minister of Spain to whom Mac- aulay here alludes ; the marshall of France was O'Brien, Count of Thomond, Knight of the Order of the Holy Ghost and Commander of Languedoc. The brave but unfortimate Count Lall^^ commanded the forces of the French monarchy in Hindostan. In the Imperial services of Austria and Russia, Irish marshals were to be found. Don Alexander O'Reilly, one of the most fcilented men of his time, a soldier of high renown, became a Spanish viceroy. Irish generals of merit served the kings of Naples and Sardinia. Even Protestant Prussia, in the days of the great Frederick, disdaining to imitate the narrow-minded bigotry of England, was glad to have in her ranks Irish officers of distinction. Titled descendants of many of these distinguished Irishmen are to be found in our o^Ti days ui most of the countries of Continental Europe. Tlius the most trusted marshal of France to-day is a Mac Mahon. Not many years ago we saw Marshal O'Donnell, at once prime minister of Spain and commander of her army m the field, reviving the old Cas- tilian glories and carrying her victorious arms into the barbaric empire of Morocco. The greatest scenes, however, of Irish glory during the dark penal days were those wherein the celebrated " Irish Bri- gade " of the French army won everlasting renown. The Abbe Mac Geoghegan, in the eloquent dedication of his History of Ireland ' ' to the Irish troops in the service of France," takes a rapid survey of their principal exploits. I cannot refrain from quoting here the greater portion of this animated address: — " Gentlemen," writes the abbe, "to you I owe the homage of my labour; you owe to it the honour of your protection. The history of Ireland belongs to you as being that of your ancestors ; it is their THE LIFE OF DANIEL o'cONNELL. 39 shades that I invoke in a foreign land ; it is theii" glory that I recall. The records of their exploits and ATrtues, which fill a . space of so many ages, I here bring to your review. * * « * * " Europe, towards the end of the last century, was sm-prised to see your fathers abandon the delights of a fertile country, renounce the advantages which an illus- trious birth had given them in their native land, and *tear themselves from their possessions, from kindred, friends, and from all that nature and foi-tune had made dear to them. She was astonished to behold them deaf to the proposals of a liberal usurper, and following the fortunes of a fugitive king, to seek with him in foreign climes fatigues and danger, con- tent with their misfortunes as the seal of their fidelity to mihappy masters.' * * * -* * The abbe goes on to say that France " gladly opened to them a generous bosom, being persuaded that men so devoted to their princes would not be less so to their benefactors, and felt a pleasure in seeing them march under her banners. Your ancestors have not disappointed her hopes: Nervinde, Marseilles, Barcelona, Cremona, Luzara, Spires, Castighone, Almanza, Villa Viciosa, and many other places, witnesses of their immortal valour, consecrated their devotedness to the new country which had adopted them. France applauded their zeal, and the greatest of mcnarchs raised their praise to the highest pitch by honouring them with the flattering title of ' his brave Irishmen. " The example of their chiefs animated their coiurage ; the Viscoimts Mountcashel (MacCarthy) and Clare (O'Brien), the Count of Lucan (Sarsfield), the DiUons, Lees, Roches, O'Donnells, Fitzgeralds, Xugents, and Galmoys (Butlers) opened to them the Meuse, the Rhine, and the Po the career of glory ; whilst the O'Mahonys, Mac Donnells, Lawleses, the Lacys, the Bourkes, O'Carrolls, Croftons, Comer- ford, Gardiner, and O'Connor crowned themselves with laurels on the shores of the Tagus. "The neighbouring powers wished to have in their services the children of those great men. Spain retained some of you near her throne; Naples invited you to her fertile country; Germany called you to the defence of her eagles. The Taaflfes, the Hamiltons, O'Dwyers (General O'Dwyer commanded at BelgTade), Browns, Wallaces, and O 'ISTeiLls sup- ported the majesty of the empire, and were entrusted with its most important posts. The ashes of Marshal Brown are every day watered with the tears of the soldiers to whom he was so dear, whilst the O'Donnells, Macguires, Lacys, and others endeavoiu-ed to form themselves after the example of that great man. ' ' Russia, that vast and powerful em- pire — an empire which has passed sudden- ly from obscurity to so much glory — wished to learn military discipline from your corps. Peter the Great, that pene- trating genius and hero, the creator of a nation which is now triumphant, thought he could not do better than confide that essential part of the art of war to the Field-marshal de Lacy; and the worthy daughter of that great emperor always entrusted to that warrior the principal defence of the august throne which she filled with so much glory. Fiaally, the Viscount Fermoy (Roche), general officer in the service of Sardinia, has merited all the confidence of that crown. " But why recall those times v/hich are so long past? Why do I seek your heroes in those distant regions? Permit me, gentlemen, to bring to yoiir recollec- tion that great day, for ever memorable in the annals of France; let me remiod you of the plains of Fontenoy, so precious to }our glory — those plains where, in concert with chosen French troops, the valiant Count of Thomond beiag at your head, you charged with so much valour an enemy so formidable. Animated by the presence of the august sovereign who rules over you, you contributed with so much success to the gaining of a victory which till then appeared doubtful. Law- feld beheld you, two years afterwards, in concert with one of the most illustrious corps of France (the lung's Regiment), force intrenchments which appeared to be impregnable ; Menin, Ypres, Tournay, saw you crown yourselves with glory imder their walls; whilst your country- men under the standards of Spain per- formed prodigies of valour at Campo Sancto and at. Velletri. "But whilst I am addressing you, a part of your coi'ps (the regiment of Fitzjames) is flying to the defence of the allies of Louis ; another (Count Lally and his regiment) is sailing over the sous to 40 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. seek amidst the waves, in another hemi- sphere, the eternal enemies of his empire — the British. " Behold, gentlemen, what all Europe contemplates in you ; behold here (in the abbe's history) the qualities which have gained esteem from you even from your unjust enemies. Ctjuld a compatriot to whom the glory of Ireland is so dear refuse to you his admiration? Accept, gentlemen, this small tribute of it. " Honour with yoiu" support a history which the love for my country has caused me to undertake. Your protection and patronage Avill render this work respectable, and may merit some indul- gence for its defects ; it should have none were my labour and zeal capable of rendering it worthy of those to whom I dedicate it." No one can reasonably assert that the glowing praises which the abbe lavishes on his compatriots in the various services of Continental Europe, especially on the wairiors of the far-famed brigade in the service of France, at all exaggerate their merits or then- glory. The celebrated Vendome, who was stoutly aided by them in many of his battles and victories, professed to hold the Irish in particular esteem. He even confessed that he felt surprise at some of the tremendous deeds of arms which he saw "those army-but- chers" (as he was wont to call them) perform. Tlie number of Irishmen said to have been entered on the muster-rolls of the French army from the first organ- ization of the brigade, towards the end of the seventeenth century, to the termina- tion of its existence in the mighty host of France, towards the end of the eighteenth century, is somethmg enormous, and even almost incredible. In these foreign ser- vices the O'Connellswere well represented. Morgan O'Connell of Ballybrake, second cousin of " the Liberator," joined the Austrian army, became a lieutenant-col- onel, and Avas made "gold key" or chamberlain to the emperor — a dignity held by the Germans in the highest estimation. But far away the most dis- tinguished of all the O'Connells who (served in foreign armies was General Count O'Connell, " the Liberator's " uncle. This able officer entered the French army at the tender age of fourteen. The friendship of another Irish soldier of merit, the Chevali erFagan, was of great jjcrvice to him at the commencement of his military career. His first commission was that of sous-lieutevant in Clare's regiment. This was in the year 1759. Twenty-three years afterwards, in 1782, we find him serving with great distinction at the memorable siege of Gibraltar, when the French and Spaniards made a des- perate but unavailing effort to wrest that famous fortress from the hands of the English. On this occasion, in command of one hundred men acting as marines, he served on board the ship of^the French admiral, whose object was to prevent the English admiral. Lord Hood, from relieving the besieged stronghold. O'Con- nell had volunteered for this service. As a reward for the valour of which he gave signal proof during the awe-insi:)iring scenes of that terrible siege. King Louis XVI. made him colonel-commandant of the German regiment in the French service, known as the regiment of " Salm- Salm." This regunent, about2,400 strong, was ill-disciplined and altogether in an inefficient state, when Colonel O'Connell assumed the command of it. But under his vigorous direction its discipline soon became perfect, so that it was ere long considered one of the finest, if not the finest regiment in the whole army of France. Gifted as he was with a great talent for military organization, it is in no degree surprising to find our gallant Irish exile appointed, in 1788, to the high and important position of one of the inspector- generals of French infantry. That tide in his affairs had now flowed in on Colonel O'Connell," which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortime." Tlie follow- ing passage from Sir Bernard Burke, referring to O'Connell's appointment as inspector-general of infantry, shews that this was the turning point of the Irish soldier's military career: — "The French government resolved that the art of war should undergo revision, and a military board was formed for this purpose, comprising four general officers and one colonel. The colonel selected was O'Connell, who was esteemed one of the most scientific officers in the service. Without patronage or family, he had risen to a colonelcy before he had attained his fortieth year. Only a few meetings of the board had taken place when the superior officers, struck with the depth and accuracy of information, great mili- tary genius, and con-ect views displayed by Colonel O'Connell, unanimously agreed THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 41 to confide to him the renewal of the whole French military code; and he executed the arduous duty so perfectly that his tactics were those followed in the early campaigns of revolutionized France, adliered to by Napoleon, and adopted by Prussia, Austria, Russia, and England." General Coimt O'Connell commanded the foreign regiments that were brought up to Paris in 1789 for the protection of the monarchy during the opening scenes of the temble di-ama of the great revolu- tion. The action of the royal forces was, hov,'cver. paralyzed by the vacillation of the amiable but also feeble monarch, and the want oi energy or judgment in the majority of the courtiers who smrounded and misled him. The populace and their leaders were neither conciliated nor sup- pressed. The career of the revolution went on with ever increasing velocity and violence ; a monarchy venerable and illus- trious with the old age and heroic associations of thirteeen hundred j-ears was prostrated in the dust , four royal heads belonging to a dynasty that had reigned with great renown for eight centuries fell on the scaffold. Dur- ing these scenes of more than tragic horror, Coimt O'Connell and the Irish Brigade preserved their military fidelity inviolate; years after these momentous occurrences the count was wont to say that if the foreign troops in the ser\'ice of France had been permitted to act with vigour, in obedience to the promptings alike of their inclinations and courage, they would have succeeded in restraining the revolutionary movement and pre- serving the monarchy. When, however, it became clear that "the Irish Brigade" could no longer render any substantial service to the royal cause by remaining in France, General O'Connell and his brave companions in anns decided on leaving that noble land. For a hundred years the exiled warriors of Ireland had served it gloriously on more than a hmidred bloody and famous fields ; durmg a great part of this long period their distinguished bravery had earned them double pay; but tlie hour of parting from the royal family and the French service li ad now arrived; the king was represented by his brother ; the fare- well scene was interesting and even affecting; the prince advanced to the front of the gallant band of Irislmien ; the officers encircled him; his manner towards them was full of courtesy, and it was not without generous emotion that he uttered his final adieu. " We ac- knowledge, gentlemen," said the prince, " the invaluable services which France during the lengthened period of one hundred years has received from the Irish Brigade — services which we shall never forget, though totally unable to repay; receive this standard, a pledge of our rememberance, a token of our admiration and respect; and this, generous Hiber- nians, shall be the motto on your spotless colours- 'IGO^-IZQ^, Semper et uhiqiie Jideles'' ('Always and everywhere faith- ful')." Such was the pai'ting of the soldiers of the far-famed Irish Brigade from France and the house of Bourbon. The standard which his royal highness presented to tliem was embroidered with a fleur-de-lis and a shamrock. After this, Geneival Count O'Connell served for a brief space in the allied forces against the revolutionary army. This was dming the campaign which terminated in the defeat of the Duke of Brunswick and the first anti-Gallican coalition. We next find the count inducing the British Govern- ment to receive the heroic brigade into the service of England. This was probably the most unlucky proceeding of his whole life ; at all events, in its final issue it was ' fraught with ruin to the noble band of warriors whom it chiefly concerned. The rulers of England, with that utter lack of magnanimous sentiment, or rather with that Machiavellian policy whicli they ever pursue m their dealings with Irishmen (and, indeed with all those whom they want to get the better of), decided on sending this last generation of the Irish Brigade to the British West Indian Isles, there to do battle with a deadlier and more insidious foe than they had ever encount- ered on the battle-fields of France — the fever-fiend of that tropical clime. Soon the veterans, who had passed unscathed through the fiery ordeal of many a temble field of fight, were decimated by the angel of death that for ever breathes destruction over those flower-perfumed but treacher- ous islands. At last the poison-breathing, fever-laden gales blew over the graves of nearly all those Irish soldiers. Their standard still waved or drooped in lonely and melancholy decay in an old neglected church in one of those fatal isles ; but the waiTiors who had so often rallied round it "shoulder to shoulder," and planted it 42 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. fast, when the red and maddenmg waves of the battle swept by, were gone for ever. England had achieved one more success over Ireland — an unmistakable one, too, if ignoble. liencetorAvard there need be no apprehension lest the Irish Brigade, or any portion of it, might form the nucleus of an Ii'ish national army. General Count O'Connell escaped from the fever-havoc. He married a Creole lady of St. Domingo ; his wife had claims on the French government for some pro- perty; to assert these claims he returned to France after the peace of Amiens. When the war between France and Eng- land Avas renewed, as the government of Napoleon regarded him in the light of a British subject, he was kept a prisoner in France among the English detenus of that day. On the fall of the great emperor, and consequent restoration of the Bour- bons, the count was I'einstated in his rank of general in the French army ; at the same time he retained his rank as colonel in that of England. Pie seems to have drawn pay from the two governments — a singular enough case. He lived to a very advanced age, for when the veteran died in 1834 he was m his ninety-first year. This gallant old chief was generous, courteous, hon- ourable and pious. He spent much of the •wealth which he had honourably won in works of usefulness and charity. He appears to have endowed schools and other benevolent institutions in his native Iveragh , he was in accent and manner a thorough Irish gentleman of the best type of the old school ; he might fairly be called " the last of the Irish Brigade." j\Iay the hero sleep in peace ! O'Connell tells us that his "grand- mother had twenty-two childi'en, and half of themlivedbeyondtheage of ninety." His father had ten. Of some of his immediate relatives — ^liis father, for instance, and his uncle Maurice, who left him Darrynane Abbey — I shall have occasion to speak again. In examining the pedigree of the O'Connells we find, as in most families, certain favomite names continually re- curring, such as Daniel, Maurice, Morgan, John. These family names were carefully kept lip among the O'Connells, even in our own times. Thus the "Liberator's" four sons were Maurice, Morgan, John, and Daniel. His grandson and represen- tative, the present owner of Darrynane Abbey, is also Daniel. The motto of the O'Connells is an Irish phrase, signifying "judgment and power." The family claim to derive theii* name from an Old- World prince of the royal house of Heber, one of the sons of Milesius. According to the old Irish method of spelling it, the name is O'Conal. On one occasion, in the latter portion of his life, O'Connell himself, in the course of a conversation with some friends, speaks thus in reference to the old form of the name : — "'I regret that when emancipation passed I did not henceforth wi'ite my name O'Conal: it is the original Irish mode of spelling it.' " 'Yes,' said Mr. Fitzpati^k, one of his most attached and devotea supporters, ' the present mode of spelling it is plainly an English innovation.' " O'Connell said he had felt very proud the first time he had ever seen the family name in prmt. J.t was in an announcement that the four -'sSowmg colonels had been selected to lead the Vendean expedition: Delacherrois, De la Chasse, Conway, and O'Connell. " ' My name is better known now than it was then. That's a good story John O'Brien tells of the postiUon at Heidelberg in Germany. O'Brien asked hun had he ever heard of O'ConneU. "I did," said the postilion; "Zie is the man who discovered Ireland.'''' 'Do you know,' continued O'Connell, 'that three persons voted in 1830 to make me king of Belgium ? ' " ' You might have had a good chance if you had offered yourself,' said Fitzpatricc. " 'I should have a better chance if the election took place ?2o?«, 'replied O'Connell, ' as I am far better known than I was in 1830. If the Revolution hadn't happened till now, and if I stood against Leopold,' he added, laughing, 'I think I'd run the fellow close enough.' " ' ' The Liberator " was the finest ' ' flower" and noblest ' ' outcome " of the O'Connells. While he lived and flourished, exulted and triumphed in the fresh exuberance of his vigorous manhood, the most characteristic qualities of that far-descended race, intel- lectual, moral and physical, blended with the traits of his mother's nature, found a superabounding development in O'Con- nell. You might trace the mtensined spirit and the semblance of his ancestors in his subtle, brilliant, and powerful intellect; in his commanding will; in his now thunder-crashmg, now silver- sounding tones and honey-di'opping or mocking or soul-scathing words; in his THE LIFE OF DAXIEL O CONNELL. 43 generous, huge, and loving heart, in his humour-twinkhug, insinuating eyes of richest luminous blue ; in his well-curved, plastic, kindly-natured mouth; in his jovial, beaming face and slj^ but sunniest smile, and in his stalwart, Idngly form. No doubt, too, the traditions of the O'Coimell clan influenced the growth of his ideas and the formation of most of the habits of thought and action. Then the bold mountain-scenery of his native Kerry, in the bosom of which his youthful days, like those of so many generations of his forefathers, were spent, must also (I may safely hazard this assertion) have influenced the development of his mind, just as the health-iaspiring mountain breezes braced his nerves and spirits, and invigorated his frame. It may not be amiss here, before I pro- ceed any farther, to devote a few sentences to a general description of the scenery of Kerry, especially of the wondi'ous Killarney district. Indeed, it may not be altogether out of place to say a little about the scenery of Ireland in general; for the infinitely varied scenery and ever-changing skies of Ireland are deemed to have more or less analogy to the singularly versatile charac- ter and suddenly-changing temperament of the Irish race ; and of the whole Irish race O'Connell was, in his own day at least, the colossal type or representative man. John JMitchel, in his usual happy .style, observes that "Daniel O'Connell, by virtue of being more intensely Irish, carrying to a more extravagant pitch all Irish strength and passion and weakness than other Iiishraen, led and swayed his people by a kind of divine or else diabolic right." Perhaps the most remarkable thing about the scenery of our supremely beau- tiful Ireland is its extraordinary variety. There arc, indeed, general characteristics of Irish .scenery; b&t along with those features, to be found, in a greater or less degi'ee, in most parts of the island, each province or even each county has peculiar features of its own; and even within these smaller tracts the variety of scenery is sometimes endless and marvellous be- yond aU expectation ; in short, there is in our island little or none of that monotony to be found in so many other countries of the same or even vastly greater extent. Thus the rivers and lakes, and mountains and glens, and plains of Ireland are not merely beautiful, but theu- beauty is of the most diversified kind. The luxuriant loveliness of the southern Blackwater has no resemblance to the beauty of the stately Shannon, with its spacious estuary, its wide-extended lakes, and its rapids of Doonass or Castleconnell, raving and racing past the beautiful sloping banks crowned with villas and ornamented with groves. How different each from the other — the broad Lough Neagh, Lough Erne with its isles, Lougli Corrib with the old castles and abbeys near its shores, and Kniaruey lakes -with their myriacl beauties, bewitching alike to the eye and the soul ! How ujilike the mouth of the Lee to Dublin Bay, a,nd yet how won- drously lovely are both ! How different, too, the jagged and castle-like crags of Ireland's Eye and Howth from the caverned and wave-pierced cliffs of Kilkee, or the precipitous basaltic columns of the Giant's Causeway ! "\'\1iat small resemblance there is between the Wicklow mountains and the Ivnockmeildown mountains or the Comeragbs! How dissunilar the rotvmd form of Slievenamon from the lofty chain of the Galtees! How little they both re- semble the serrated and rocky range of the Magillicuddys ! Some of our moun- tains are heath-covered and boggy, others bristle with massive tower-piled cliffs. How foreign in aspect the glens of Wick- low — the Scalp, the Dargle, Luggelaw', Glencrea, Glendalough, the Glen of the Downs, Glenmalure, the Devil's Glen, and the Vale of Avoca — are to each other! Still more are they unlike to Glounshich- aim in Wexford, to the Black "\''alley, Glounaheely, or the gap of Dunloe in Kerry, or to Glengariii" or Kehnaneigh in Cork. AU these glens have charms un- speakable ; most of tliem are more or less romantic and picturesque, but all vary widely from each other — some sombre and sublime, some rugged, arid, and austere, some softly-beautiful. The rich pasture-plahis of IVIeath, the wide expanse of the C'urragh of Kfldare, dotted with myriads of white-fleeced sheep, and the rich plain visible from some of the hills of North Tipperary, stretching away into the county Limerick, waving with golden grain and laughing in the summer sunshine — the Golden Vale, in short — all these are distinguished from each other by strongly-marked individual features. In the north of Meath and por- tions of Ulster there is a strange, peculiar, but agreeable style of landscape. To i4 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. Tjorrow the expression of the late John Fisher Murray, you find " armies of little soft rounded liills like as one egg to another." Walking among those cultured hills, your horizon all around is close to you. On such ground rifles of long range would be of slight serv-ice to you. In the hollows between you find yourself shut in from the rest of the world ; and if you ascend one of those hUls, you see naught all round you but similar little hills. Quite easily you might lose your way. In short, every province, every county of Ireland can boast some peculiar charm of its own. Shame, then, on the Irish flimkey-tourists and hunters after the picturesque who I'ush off to every point of the compass, seeking beauties in foreign lauds, while they neglect the ten thousand enchantments of then- own isle of beauty, resembling nothing so much as those coxcombs with lovely wives Avhose fickle eyes are constantly seeking out charms in objects of far inferior attrac- tion. This extraordinary variety of Irish ficenery has been dwelt on by John Fisher Murray and other Irish writers. But in BO pai't of Ireland is this variety more wonderful than in O'Connell's native Kerry, and particularly the Killarney dis- trict. I once heard one who had an ad- mirable eye for scenery, and who had seen many countries, remark that that portion of the south-west of Mimster lying be- tween Dingle and Bantry Bays, which includes the Lakes of Ivillarney and other scenes of ravishing loveliness in Kerrj', and the fairy scenery of Glengariff in Cork, contams natural beauties in greater profusion and in more endless and amaz- ing variety than any district of similar size throughout the spacious earth. When I first \dewed the sm-passing love- liness of this part of Ireland myself, I could not help exclaiming that if the Irish were pagans and worshipped natural objects — as the Peruvians and ancient Persians worshipped the sun, and the old Arabians the stars — they could not ima- gine divinity in any works of the Creator more unearthly in their beauty than tlie scenes around Killarney. Indeed, looking on the scenery of that region of enchant- ment, I learned more easily to compre- hend and feel the process by which the intellects and imagmations of a people Hke the Greeks of old might gradually glide into nature-worship, so as finally to confound the Deitj^ with His divine crea- tion. And, indeed, without being in the slightest degree tainted with pagan super- stition, one might well view Ivillarney with something of a religious sentiment; for everything aroiuid speaks eloquently and gloriously of God, and lifts the soul and all its tlioughts above the ordinary and sordid things of earth. If every Irishman ha\'ing in his soul a single spark of iimate nobility could be bound to make a pilgrimage at least once in his life to Killarney, as the spot surrounded and hallowed by the loveliest scenes in his native isle, while his Christian fidelity w^ould "moult no feather," but rather wax stronger, his love and loyalty to his country and her cause would for the rest of his bfe soar aloft on prouder and bolder wdng. Even Lord JMacaulay, in his very anti-Irish history, speaks of the scenerj^ of the Killarney district in the following tenns of unqualified admiration : "The south-western part of Kerry is now well known as the most beautiful tract in the British isles ; the mountains, the glens, the capes stretching far into the Atlantic, the crags on w^liich the eagles build, the rivulets brawling down rocky passes, the lakes overhung by groves in which the wild deer find covert, attract every summer crowds of wander- ers sated with the business and pleasures of great cities. The beauties of that country are, indeed, too often hidden in the mist and rain which the west w^ind brings up from the boundless ocean; but on rare days, when the sun shines out in all his glory, the landscape has a freshness and a wannth of colom'ing seldom fovmd in our latitude ; the myrtle loves the soil, the arbutus thrives better than even on the sunny shore of Calabria, the turf is of livelier hue than elsewhere, the hills glow with a richer piuple, the varnisli of the holly and i^y is more glossy, and berries of a brighter red peep through foliage of a brighter green. But during the greater part of the seventeenth century this paradise was as little knowTi to the civilized world as Spitzbergen or Green- land." Wondi'ous, indeed, are the ever-chang- ing aspects which the landscape assumes at every turn of the road, as, travelling from Kenmare to Killarney, and leaving the Black A'alley to your left, you pass along by the entire chain of lakes, past Derrycunnihv Cascade, Tork mountain THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 45 and waterfall, and Mangerton on one side; while on the other side of the lakes you see the purple moimtain, the Eagle's Nest, and Carntual towering over all; the mountains here thickly covered with woods of the most diversified foliage, there dotted with innumerable rocks, numbers of which appear as though curiously and quaintly carved by the cunning hand of some giant artificer. In the windings of the shores, in the gleaming of the wave- lets, in the skies thej reflect, in the lights tliat play upon every object, in the outlines of the woods, in the groupings of the rock-clusters, in the islands that dot the waters, in the glancing and flashing of the cascades through the trees, — in all there is infinite variety of more than magi- cal effect. "What enchantment of scenery is wanting in KiUamey? In the Black Valley and the Gap of Dmiloe you have something awe-inspiring, if not sublime. In Glenagh Bay and Innisfallen Isle you have the most lavish prodigality of the softest, sweetest, richest, most bewitching beauties ; Sullivan's Cascade is lonely and romantic, and the hamit of the old Irish red deer ; the Eagle's Nest not merely has picturesque attractions to delight the eye, but its weird music entrances the ear. Hearken to those bugle-notes from that boat! A himdred echoes take them up: they are repeated near you first; higher and higher they mount aloft, gradually growing fainter and fainter till they are lost in the far distances of heaven, just as if Jacob's ladder were let down from the skies, and on it "angels ascending and descending," and their heavenly music repeated from rank to rank upwards, tOl the angelic sounds would seem to die out amid their divine dwellings beyond the clouds. Such scenes and sounds fascin- ate alike soul and sense, and make one " dazzled and drunk " with beauty ; nor is even the element of the gi-otesque, with tlie contrasts it produces, wanting to Jvillarney. Fantastic rocks rise above the waters of the lakes in a hundred whimsi- cal and imcouth shapes ; the guides and boatmen, tracing in them fanciful resem- blances, call one group the library of O'Donohoe, the legendery chieftain whose spirit haunts those waters; another curious rock is called O'Donohoe's horse ; and several other specimens of this odd nomenclature nm on in similar fashion. Here I may obsei>ve that I could never agree with the somewhat prevalent notion that the peasantry around Killarney have no appreciation of the glorious scenes amid which they live: doubtless, being familiar with them from their childhood, the scenes want for them the charm of novelty they possess for strangers , hence they talk less about them, but it does not follow that they are insensible to their beai;ties. The nomenclature I have just referred to shews a capability of analyz- ing the features of the scenery ; even if the theory were proved that the beauty we see in external nature wholly depends on associations, peasants as well as cul- tured persons might have their souls peopled, so to sjjeak, with enough of as- sociations to produce the liveliest and most varied sensations of external beauty. Children are frequently in no way defi- cient in appreciation of the charms of scenery. The only scenery I have seen that at ail approaches Killarney in beauty is that of Glengariff. The gracefully formed moun- tains around the glen and bay, with their crags of most elaborate but fantastical carving; the agreeable loveliness of the well-wooded glen ; the infinite labyrinth- ine windings of the channels between the graceful little islands and along the beau- tiful shores encircling the bay, causing a constant succession of strange and ever- varying pleasant surprises, — all these features give endless delight. Indeed, Glengariff's inferiority to Ivillarney is more in the quantity than the quality of its beauties ; and this arises sunply from its more limited space. Besides the far-famed Lakes of Killar- ney, the south-west of Kerry can boast of many other beautiful and impressive scenes, less generally kno-\\ii, indeed, and celebrated, but which in any other dis- trict might be deemed almost unrivalled. Such are sequestered Glounaheely, lonely Comasarn, Kenmarc Bay, with its variety of aspects, the secluded lakes of Cloonee, and others, — all beautiful, though their beauty be aided by few or no artificial adornments. Kerry has even a wealth and profusion of almost unknown loveli- ness; in short, hundreds of lakes and tarns, and fairy-haunted dells, and wild rocky heights and passes uncelebrated, yet worthy of poet's song beyond some of the most talked-of and belauded places in foreign lands. Such a man as Daniel O'Connell could hardly have grown up amid the scenery 46 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. of such a county without receiving a thousand impressions from the matchless visions of the beautiful around him. His love of country necessarily became inten- sified a hundred-fold. Kerry was a divine revelation to him. In his orations we can see with what enthusiasm he gloried in the majesty of external nature, especially as it appeared in the scenery of Ireland. In his mountain-home he was, as Shiel says, "encompassed with the loftiest images of liberty on every side." There he could hearken to the voices of the mighty Atlantic and watch the wild billows — which he tells us in one of his speeches he imagined to roll across from the shores of Labrador — as they burst in foam and spray upon our rock-girded shores.* CHAPTER n. The Penal Laws — Fii-st slight relaxations of this hor- rid code — Curious Anecdotes and Illustrations of Life during the days of the Penal Laws— Geogh- egan of London's odd Eecantation — Kedagh Mac- Geoghegan and his Horse — Case of Father Sheehy — Curran's first signal success at the Bar — Captain St. Leger and the old Priest-^0'Connel^s Anec- dotes of strange conversions to Protestantism— His amusing stories of Patlier Grady— The Priest's narrow escape from the fangs of British Law — A Kerry Brigand in Flanders — The Orangemen and Ja'cli of the Koads — O'Leary's Catholic and Protestant Son — Catholic Petition— Berkeley's Querist. Such was the paradise in which O'Con- nell was born ; but if the outward world appeared to the eyes of his childhood in its loveliest aspect, far different was the moral and political world around him. He was bom in the days of those accursed penal laws, when bigotry and intolerance of the narrowest and most mahgnant type held sovereign sway in Ireland ; when the Irish Cathohcs — in other words, the old Irish race — were so completely prostrated beneath the ignoble tyranny of Protestant Ascendency that they may be safely said to have lost all civil existence, and even in a certain sense to have almost disappeared from history. The Protestant minority of * The principal writers to whom I am indebted in writing this first chapter are John Mitchel, Mr. O'Neill Daunt (Personal Recollections of O'Coii- nell), Fagan {Life of O'Connell), the Abbe Mac- Geoghegan, Lord Maeaulay, John Fisher Murray, Thomas M'Nevin {Plantation of Ulster), Sir Ber- nard Burke. I have also bepn assisted by an able Life of O'Connell, published by John Jlullany, X Parliament Street, Dublin, written, I h:ive heard, by a gentleman long and well known on the Irish Press, who suffered some years of imprisonment on a charge of " treason-felony. the population of Ireland (of Scotch or English blood for the most part) were not merely a dominant race; they mono- polized everything. The Catholics, although they were to the Protestants as five to one, were excluded from every honourable walk in life. If a few of them, indeed, contrived to retain pro- perty by evasion of the lavr, the over- whelming majority were virtual serfs, the merest hewers of wood and drawers of water, degraded outcasts or pariahs in the land of their fathers. I shall com- mence this chapter with some account of the growth of the penal laws, and then I shall give a variety of anecdotes illustra- tive of the state of society and of life ia Ireland during their gloomy reign. No doubt Irish Catholics had been obliged to endure more or less religious persecution during the generations that passed away between the epoch of what is caUed the Pef ormation and the date of the treaty of Limerick. During this period they had at times been grievously and even intolerably oppressed. But still no elabo- rate system of tyranny and deprivation of all ci-vil and political rights like the penal code of the eighteenth century had grown, up. They had enjoyed intervals of some- thing like repose — even moments of triumph. At the worst, they had always managed to retain some share of rights- and more or less influence. But the fall of Limerick, on the 3rd of October, 1691, sealed their doom. It is true, as I remarked in the historical sketch pre- fixed to this biography, that the treaty of Limerick had at first seemed to secure for the Catholics the free exercise of their religion and other rights. But hardly was the ink of signature dry on the parchment when it was violated by the English Parhament. The Irish army had gone to France, the Irish nation was exhausted by the struggle, so that British perfidy had no longer anything to fear on the soil of Ireland. The English Parlia- ment, using its power of binding Ireland by Acts passed in London, enacted a law providing that no one should sit in the Irish legislature, nor hold any Irish ofSce, civil, military, or ecclesiastical, nor prac- tise law or medicine in Ireland, till he had taken the oaths of allegiance and supre- macy, and subscribed the declaration against transubstantiation. This bill received the royal assent. Shortly after the conclusion of the THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 47 treaty, Doctor Dopping, bishop of Meath, preached before the lords - justices in Christ's Church Cathedral, Dublin. Al- though one of the great charges (a false one, doubtless) made by Protestants against Catholics has ever been that they are prone to teach the abomitiable doc- trine that faith should not be kept with heretics, this enlightened and conscientious Protestant prelate did not scruple, on this memorable occasion, to preach the equally detestable one, that no terms of peace ought to be observed with so per- fidious a people as he alleged the Irish to be. For the honom- of Protestantism, it is somewhat pleasant to be able to add that a few Protestant divines disavowed his odious teachings on the next Simday. Doctor Moreton, bishop of KUmore, dwelt strongly on the obligation of keep- ing the public faith ; Dean Synge also, on the third Sunday, in the same church, preached on the side of justice and good ■faith, but with an advocacy less distinct and forcible ; it was all the same, however, to the Irish Catholics whichever side the preachers took, for in less than two months after the capitulation the treaty was flagrantly violated, and in defiance of its articles the Catholics saw themselves shamefully maltreated and robbed. In 1692 the first Irish Parliament of Wil- liam III.'s reign met ; some Irish Catholic peers and cormnoners attended and took their seats, but the Act passed by the Eng- lish legislature in 1691 was at once put in force; by means of the oath of supre- macy, which declared the King of England head of the church, and the sacrifice of the mass damnable, the Catholic peers and commoners were excluded. In 1695 an Act was passed "for the better secur- ing the government by disarming the Papists. 'They were required to deliver up by a certain day all their arms and ammunition to the justices or other civil officers ; after that day their houses might be searched for concealed arms and am- munition; the search-warrant might be granted by any two justices, a mayor, or a sheriff. Any Catholic suspected of having concealed arms might be- compelled to appear before these functionaries and answer the charge or suspicion upon his oath; the penalties were to be fine and imprisonment, or, if the court wUled, the pillory and flogging. The condition of the ( atholic under the operation of this Act was worse than that of persons under the surveillance of the Inquisition during its worst days in Spain ; a Protestant enemy could easily make hun a mark for suspicion. Mr. Mitehel, in his valuable continuation of the Abbe MacGeoghegan's history, says, "Any neighbouring magis- trate might visit him at any hour of the night and search his bed for arms ; no Papist was safe from suspicion who had any money to pay in fines, and woe to the Papist who had a handsome daughter ! " Tlie same Parhament passed laws pro- hibiting education. As Catholics were already prevented from becoming tutors or teachers, many young Catholics were sent abroad for their education. A law then was enacted, " that if any subjects of Ire- land shoiUd, after that session, go or send any child or person to be educated in any Popish imiversity, college or school, or in any private family, or if such child should, by any Popish person, be instructed in the Popish religion, or if any subjects of Ireland shoidd send money or things towards the maintenance of such child or other person, already sent or to be sent, every such offender being thereof con- victed should be for ever disabled to sue or prosecute any action, bill, plaint, or in- formation in law or equity, to be guardian, administrator, or executor to aqy person, or to be capable of any legacy or deed of gift ; and, besides, should forfeit all their estates, both real and personal, during their lives." It was also enacted, that "no Papist, after the 20th of January, 1695, shall be capable to have or keep in his possession, or in the possession of any other to his use or at his disposition, any horse, gelding, or mare of the value of five pounds or more." Clauses were added to tempt Protestants to become informers, and to cause searches to be made. The horses were to become the property of the findei'S. This Parliament also enacted, "that all Popish archbishops, bishops, vicars- general, deans, Jesuits, monks, friars, and all other regular Popish clergy, and all Papists exercising any ecclesiastical juris- diction, shall depart this kingdom before the first day of May, 1698." Should any remain after that, or return, they were to be transported. If they returned again, they became liable to the penalties of high treason. The same Parliament passed a law imposing a fine of two shillings (and in default of payment a whipping) upon every common labourer being hired, or 48 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O OONNELL. other servant retained, who shall refuse to work at the usual and accustomed wages upon any day except the days appointed by this statute to be kept holy — ^namely, all Sundays in the year and certain days named therein. It was also enacted, that "a Protestant marrying a Catholic was disabled from sitting or voting in either House of Parlia- ment." Also, an Act was passed " to pre- vent .Papists from being solicitors." It is an amusing instance of the hypocrisy of the British faction in Ireland that this infamous Parliament, while violating the treaty of Limerick " by so many ingeni- ous laws," had the brazen impudence to " gravely and solemnly" pass a laAV " for the confirmation of articles made at the surrender of the city of Limerick, or so much thereof as may consist with the safety and welfare of your majesty's sub- jects in these kingdoms." This was the jargon of the preamble of the Act. It is somewhat agreeable to find that this base Bill was was vigorously though vainly resisted in the House of Lords, and that on its final passage a protest was entered against it by the following lords : the lords Duncannon, Londonderry and Tyrone; the barons of Limerick, Howth, Ossory, Killaloe, Kerry, Strabane, and Engston ; and the bishops of Derry, El- phin, Clonfort, Kildare, and Killala. The Act disgusted even these Anglican prelates. In tlie early part of Queen Anne's reign a terrible Bill was passed "to prevent the further growth of Popery." This was dur- ing the vice-royalty of the Duke of Ormond, the head of that powerful Irish family too often anti-Irish in their politics, the Butlers. Mr. Mitchel gives the fol- lowing summary of the chief provisions of the Bill, which he justly designates as " the second formal breach of the treaty of Limerick:" — "The third clause enacts that if the son of a Papist shall at any time become a Protestant, his father may not sell or mortgage his estate, or dispose of it or any portion of it by will. The fourth clause provides that a ^apist shall not be guardian to his own ;r/id; and further, that if his child, no .natter how young, conforms to the Protestant religion, he reduces his father at once to a tenant for life. The child is to be taken from its father, and placed under the guardianship of the nearest Protestant relation. The sixth clause renders Papists incapable of purchasing any landed estates or rents or profits arising out of land, or holding any lease of lives or any other lease for any term exceeding thirty - one years ; and even in such leases the reserved rent must be at least ' one - third of the improved annual value ; ' any Protestant who dis- covers being entitled to the interest in the lease, llie seventh clause prohibits Papists from succeeding to the property of their Protestant relations. The tenth clause provides that the estate of a Papist who has no Protestant heir shall be ga- velled ; that is, parcelled in equal shares between all his children. Other clauses impose on Catholics tlie oath of abjura- tion and the sacramental test to qualify for any office or for voting at any election. * * * The fifteenth, sixteenth, and seven- teenth clauses carefully deprive the citizens of Limerick and Galway of the poor privi- lege promised them in the treaty of living in their own towns and carrying on their trade there, which, it will be remembered," adds Mr. Mitchel, "was grievously com- plained of by the Protestant residents as a wrong and oppression upon them." To this infernal piece of legislation a rlause was added, at the express sugges- tion of Queen Anne's government in Eng- land, levelled against the Irish Protestant dissenters, who had grown to be niimer- ous and wealthy in Ulstei'. This clause declared that, to qualify any person in Ireland for any public office or any posi- tion "in the magistracy of any city," it was necessary he should receive the sacra- ment according to the rites of the Church of England. This was in accordance with the English Test Act, which up to this had never been imjDosed upon Ireland. In spite of the diabolical cruelty of its provisions, and in spite of the able plead- ings at the bar of the Commons of Sir Toby Butler, Counsellor Malone, and Sir Stephen Rice — three Catholic lawyers who had hitherto been "protected per- sons " within the meaning of the Articles of Limerick, and who on this occasion were pleading their own as much as the cause of the clients who had retained them — in spit^ of everything, the shock- ing Bill became law. It was in vain Sir Toby denounced it as unnatural and un- just. "Is not this," cried he, "against the laws of God and man — against i^at^ rules of reason and justice, by which all men ought to be governed? Is not this the only way in the world to make chil- THE LIFE OF DANIEL OCONNELL. 49 dren become imdutiful, and to bring the gray head of the parent to the grave with grief and tears ? " Sir Toby also calls the Act ' ' such a law as was never heard of before, and against the law of right and the law of nations." It would appear that a desire on the part of the Ascendancy faction to be able to rob the Catholics of Ireland had more ro do -with these enactments than any sincere desire to convert them to Angli- canism. For, in spite of its being contrary to the " Act of Uniformity," "a bare tole- ration," to quote Mr. Mitchel again, "was allowed to Catholic worship, provided that worship were practiced in mean and obscure places, provided there were no clergy in the kingdom but simple secu- lar priests, who were also compelled to register their names and parishes ' of which they pretended to be Popish priests ' — the penalty for saying mass out of those registered parishes being transportation, and, in case of return, death.'' A late waiter makes the following reflection on this hypocritical system of prosecution: ''It may be a circumstance in favour of the Protestant code (or it may not), that whereas Catholics have really persecuted for religion, 'enlightened Protestants' only made a pretext of religion, takmg no thought of what became of Catholic souls, if only they could get possession of Catholic lands and goods. Also, we may remark that Catholic governments in their persecutions always really desired the conversion of misbelievers (albeit their methods were rough) ; but in Ireland, if the people had universally turned Catholic, it woidd have defeated the whole scheme." Mr. Burke, in his tract on the penal laws, thus compares the Revocation of the Edict of Xantes by Louis XIV., which has been bitterly denounced by English writ- ers as a heinous instance of the persecu- tion of Protestants by Catholics, with the Irish system of the penal laws : "This act of injustice " (the Eflict of Nantes) "which let loose on that monarch (Louis XIV.) .'juch a torrent of invective and reproach, and which threw so dark a cloud over all the splendour of a most illustrious reign, falls far short of the case in Ireland. The privileges which the Protestants of that kingdom enjoyed antecedent to this revo- cation were far greater than the Roman Catholics of Ireland ever aspired to under a contrary establishment. The number of their sufferers, if considered absolutely, is not the half of ours ; if considered rela- tively to the body of each conununity, it is not perhaps a twentieth part ; and then the penalties and incapacities which grew from that revocation are not so grievous in their nature, nor so certain in their execution, nor so ruinous by a great deal to the civil prosperity of the state as those which were established for a per- petual law in our unhappy country." It is worthy of remark here that when- ever the fortune of war on the Continent seemed adverse to England — in fact, whenever any difficidty or danger of any sort menaced her interests at home or abroad — the representatives and sup- porters of her rule in Ireland would be sure to shew some slight tendency to relax the severity of the pfenal code ; but the crisis once passed, the zeal for persecution would immediately become as eager as ever. England's day of prosperity is ever Ireland's day of disaster. The natural tendency of the penal laws was gradually to demoralize alike the op- pressor'and the oppressed ; the Protestant was continually tempted to seek to dis- cover violations of the law by Catholics, and to inform on tliem; the Catholic began to acquire the slave's suspicion and false subtlety; the perennial hostility of the old and new races in the island increased; mutual distrust and dislike widened the gulf between them; rarely did Catholic and Protestant feel the kindly feeling of neighbours towards each other, yet there were occasional instances of mutual gen- erous and friendly feeling. In the last chapter reference was made to the Pro- testants who held estates in trust for Catholics, and shewed the highest fidelity and honour. It sh ould be remembered that Protestants ran great risk by this sort of generous conduct. Tlipmas Moore, in his Life of Captain Rock, tells the story of a Protestant barber " who, though hi* own property did not exceed a few pounds in valvie, actually held in fee the estates of most of the Catholic gentry of the county in which he lived. Let me add," continues Moore, "for the honour of human nature and periwig-making, that thougli the legislature had set a high premium on perfidity, this Protestant bar- ber was never known to betray his trust, but remained the faithfid depository of this proscribed wealth, which an 'lionour- able' hint to the law-officers would have made his own for ever." This is a credit- 50 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. able set-off to other Protestant conduct in the penal times, such as that of the mayor, sheriffs, and Protestant aldermen of the city of Limerick in 1696, in the reign of William III. and viceroyalty of Lord Capel, who petitioned Parliament, complaining that " thej^ T?-ere greatly damaged in their trade by the great num- bers of Papists residing there, and prajang to be relieved therein." The poor fellows did, it seems, get relief from the sympa- thetic legislature. Here is another peti- tion which was in sober seriousness presented to Parliament: " A petition of one Edward Sprag and others, in behalf of themselves and other Protestant porters in and about the city of Dublin, com- plaining that one Darby Ryan, a Papist, employed porters of his own persuasion." The petition of this interesting victim, Mr. Sprag, was referred to the " Committee on Grievances." Turning again to the reign of Queen Anne, on" the 17th of March, 1704, the ■Commons unanimously passed a resolu- tion, ."that all magistrates and other persons whatsoever who neglected or •omitted to put it in due execution were betrayers of the liberties of the kingdom." In June, 1705, they resolved that the say- ing or hearing of mass by persons who had not taken the oath of abjuration tended to advance the interests of the Pretender; the magnanimous Commons next resolved, unanimously this time also, " that the prosecuting and informing against Papists was honourable service to the government." In this reign of Queen Anne, who, like Bess, has, I believe, been facetiously termed "good," a pitifully mean Act of Parliament was passed agaiust pilgrimages to holy wells or those assem- blages of coimtry-people called patrons ; a penalty of ten shillings' fine (whipping in default of pa^Tnent) was to be inflicted on every individual "who should attend or be present at ap.y pilgrimage or meet- ing held at any holy well or imputed holy well." Persons building booths or sell- ing ale and victuals at patrons Avere to be fmcd twenty pounds, and to be imprisoned till payment of the fine. This precious Act "requires all magistrates to demolish -all crosses, pictures, and inscriptions that are anj^vhere publicly set up, and arc the occasions of Popish superstitions." An- other Act of 1708 enacts, " that from the first of ]\iichaelmas term, 1708, no Papist shall serve or be returned to serve on any grand jury in the Queen's Bench, or before justices of assize, oyer and teiininer, or jaU delivery or quarter sessions, unless it appear to the court that a sufficient num- ber of Protestants cannot then be had fjr the service ; and in all trials of issues (by petty juries) on any presentment, indict- ment or information, or action on any statute, for any offence committed by Papists in breach of such laws, the plain- tiff or prosecutor may challenge any Papist returned as juror, and assign as a caiase that he is a Papist, vdiich challenge shall be allowed. Mr. j^litchel very justly remarks that the spirit and practice of this enactment, as also the spirit and practice of the disarming act already referred to, survive in Ireland still, though in altered shapes. The Irish Catholic Celt is still disarmed by British law ; and during the state prosecutions of recent years the Irish Catholic juror, unless he were " a lion-and-unicorn " trader, was almost in- variably challenged by the Crown and set aside. But we now come to the second "Act to prevent the further growth of Popery." It was an act to explain and enlarge the powers and SAveep of the former one. A Papist is not any longer to be capable of holding or enjoying an annuity for lifa I quote Mr. Mitchel : " Upon the conver- sion of the child of any Catholic, the chancellor was to compel the father to discover upon oath the full value of his estate, real and personal, and thereupon make an order for the independent sup- port of such conforming child, and for securing to him, after his father's death, such share of the property as to the court should seem fit; also to secure jointures to Popish wives who should desert their husband's faith." This Act was to plant the seeds of distrust and discord in every family, and to poison the sacred happiness of the domestic fireside. A Papist vras not to be allowed to teach as tutor or usher, even as assistant to a Protestant schoolmaster. A clause of the Act offered thirty pounds per annum to any Popish ^Driest conforming to the Established Church. Any informer discovei'ing an archbishop, bishop, vicar-general, or other person exercising ecclesiastical jurisdic-. tion, Avas to have fifty pounds. For the discoA'cry of a monk, friar, or any secular clergjanan not duly registered, twenty pounds; and ten pounds for discovering a Popish schoolmaster or tutor. Justices THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL, 51 could summon all Papists over eighteen years of age, examine them on oath as to when they last heard mass, names of parties present, and the names of any Popish priest or schoolmaster. Should the witness refuse to give evidence, he was liable to a fine of twenty pounds or a year's imprisonment. In the same year a proclamation was issued commanding all registered priests to tiike the abjuration oath before the 26th of March, 1710, under the penalty of premiinire. These were the days of the priest-hunters. For a first violation of these laws priests were trans- ported ; but any bishop who had once been transported was hanged, if caught again. The profligate viceroy. Lord Wharton, was thanked by the Commons for his zeal in hastening this infamous " explaining and amending" Act. In 1709 a colony of 871 Protestant Palatine families from Gennany were settled in Ireland. Some of their descendants still remain. But, in spite of colonies and persecutions, the Catholic Irish of the old race are still the overwhelming majority of the popvilation. All the intruders enjojdng exclusive privi- leges dwindled rather than increased, while, in confomiity with a law loiown to those who have deeply studied the theory of population, the impoverished and per- secuted Celts increased and multiplied. AU the efforts to extirpate them recoiled on their ill-doers. In 1713 the Commons ordered that " an addi'ess shoidd be made to Her Majesty, to desire that she would be pleased to grant licences to Papists to return into the kingdom." In the same year an order was made " that the ser- geant-at-arms should take into custody aU Papists that were or should presume to come into the galleries of the House of Commons." During the reign of George I. the laws against Roman Catholics were enforced with great ferocity — chapels shut up, priests dragged from their places of con- cealment, or sometimes even from the altar, and banished. The Catholics were presumed to have no existence, save as objects of punishment. In the reign of George II., Lord Chancellor Bowes de- clared from the bench "that the law does n'^t suppose any such person to exist as an Irish Roman Catholic." Chief-Justice Robinson spoke to the same effect. With regard to the infam- ous class of priest-catchers, the following passage from Brennan, the ecclesiastical historian, is curious: "To the credit of those times, it must be remarlced that the discription of miscreants usually termed priest-catchers were generally Jews who pretended to be converts to the Christian religion, and some of them assumed even the character of the priesthood for the purpose of insinuating themselves more readily into the confidence of the clergy. The most notorious among them was a Portuguese Jew named Gorzia (or Garcia). By means of this A\Tetch seven priests had been apprehended in Dublin and banished the kmgdom. Of this number, two were Jesuits, one was a Dominican, one a Franciscan, and three were secular priests." Mr. Mitchell reasonably infers that about this time nearly all the priests in Ireland, regular or secular, must have been liable to transportation and death, iuasmuch as out of one thousand and eighty "registered" priests, only thirty- three ever took the oath of abjuration, which was then legally obligatory upon the whole of them. The Duke of Grafton was viceroy in 1723. Pie was particularly eager to per- secute priests. He could not tolerate the notion of their numbers increasing to such a pitch- as to exceed "v/hat by the in- dulgence of the law is allowed." He recommends new laws, " particularly for preventing more effectually the eluding- of those in being against Popish priests." In truth, the courage and constancy of the Irish priests gave these hateful bigots no inconsiderable trouble. The priests, when carrying from Rome communica- tions required by the law of the Church, never feared or hesitated to cross the seas between Ireland and France in fishing- smacks and in the disguise of fishermen. They braved alike the tempests of ocean and the penalty of high-treason under British law, inevitable if they were once caught. "When in Ireland they Avcre at one time flying from the priest-hunter, at another lurking like wild beasts in caves. And noAV, under the auspices of this Grafton, a measure of unheard-of and almost incredible atrocity was pro- ■ posed. A series of resolutions had been agreed upon in the Commons to the effect that Popery had increased, that penal laws had been evaded, that magis- trates were remiss in their enforcement, "that it is highly prejudicial to the Pro- testant interest that any person married to a Popish wife should bear any office 52 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CORNELL. or employment under His Majesty ; " for it appears that magistrates who had mar- ried Catholic wives were remiss in taking informations against their wives' confes- sors, being in salutary dread of their ladies' tongues. There was also a re- solution that no "convert" should be capable of holding any office, nor even practise as a solicitor, for seven years after his recantation, nor "unless lie brings a certifioate of having received the sacrament thrice in evei-y year during the said term." Converts were also duly to enroll their certificates of "conversion." Embodying the spirit of these resolutions, a bill was prepared, and a clause of in- conceivable vindicativeness and atrocity — a clause which disgraces not merely the proposers and adopters, but human nature itself — was added, that all "unregistered" Popish priests caught in Ireland should be castrated. It was argued that a "wholesome" practice of this nature prevailed in Sweden, and was there attended with the most salutary efiects. This infernal bill passed both houses of the legislature. It was presented to the Duke of Grafton on the 15th of ISTovem- ber, 1723. He was requested to "re- commend the same in the most effectual manner to His Majesty." The English viceroy replied graciously : "I have so much at heart a matter which I recom- mended to the consideration of Parliament at the beginning of this session, that the House of Commons may depend upon a due regard on my part to what is desired." An Irish agent, however, presented a memorial against this infernal Act to the Duke of Orleans, then Regent of France during the minority of Louis XV. Car- dinal Fleury, prime minister of France, remonstrated against the atrocity of sanct'oning such a law with Walpole, the English first minister. The canting government of "moral England" always winces under foreign criticism. Decent appearances must be maintained, or else England's character for respectability might sink in the world's eyes; and pres- tige is everything to England. In short, Fleurj^'s representations prevailed, and the bill was lost. Tlie humane Grafton tried to comfort the equally humane legislature at the close of the session for their disappointment. He remarked, that the preservation of the public peace "would be greatly promoted by the vigorous execution of the laws against Popish priests, and that he would con- tribute his part towards the prevention of that growing evil by giving proper directions that such persons only should be put into the commission of the peace as had distinguished themselves by theii" steady adlierence to the Protestant in- terests." ^Vhen George II., who, prior to his accession, had acquired some reputation for liberality and tolerance, ascended the throne in 1727, the Catholics, through Lord Delvin and some other individuals of the highest quality among them, sent an humble congratulatory address to His Majesty. It was treated with the utmost contempt, not even noticed, perhaps never even transmitted to the king. In the very year of this liberal king's accession. Primate Boulter, the chief manager of England's business in Ireland at this time, wishmg to deprive the representa- tives of the sort of patriotism that was gradually growing up among the descen- dants of the English colonists, of the votes of the Catholics at the approaching elections, hurried a bill through Parlia- ment for the entire disfranchisement of " Papists." The bill received the assent of the liberal and tolerent monarch. It enacted, that "no Papist shall be entitled or admitted to vote at the election of any member to serve in Parliament as a knight, citizen, or burgess, or at the election of any magistrate for any city or other town corporate, any law, statute, or usage to the contraiy notwithstanding." lliis law took from the hapless Catholics the last remnant of civil right. For sixty-six years from this time they remained utterly disfranchised. At this period, too, another act of injustice was done to certain members of the Irish Catholic body. An application had been made to George I. for the rever- sal of some iniquitous outlawTies which had reduced some of the oldest, noblest, and wealthiest Roman Catholic families of Ireland and their posterity to beggary. The Commons, fearing George II. might wish to redress the grievances of the Catholic sufferers, present a petition to him; in this they tell His Majesty, "that nothing could enable them to defend his right and title to his crowai so effectually as the enjoyment of those estates which have been the forfeitures of the rebel- lious Irish, and were then in the possession of his Protestant subjects ; and, therefore, THE LIFE OF DANIEL o'cONNELL. 53 that they were fully assured that he would discoiu'age all applications or attempts that should be made in favour of such traitors or their descendants, so dangerous to the Protestant interest of this kingdom." The liberal king yielded to their wishes. and at once assured them "that he would for the future discourage all such appli- cations and attempts." The Commons, "to make assurance doubly sure." brought in a bill " absolutely disqualifying all Koman Catholics from practising as soli- citors, the only branch of the law jjro- fession which they were then permitted to practise. The Commons now no longer dreaded lest the Catholic solicitors might prevail on their clients to renew their applications for a reversal of the unjust outlawries and forfeitures at some more favourable opportunity. The Catholics of Ireland were at length, indeed, under the heel of the oppressor: it was only in foreign lands they could now achieve rank or distinction — at home they were scarcely treated as human beings. Fre- quent resolutions of the Commons con- tinued to urge on the enforcement of the hellish penal code ; inflammatory and mendacious sennons were thundered against the heads of the devoted Catholics from the Anglican pulpits. This was the way chosen by preachers to ingratiate themselves with Primate Boulter, the malignant persecutor of the prostrated Irish race. " If," says Mr. Mitchel, " any pamphleteer desired to make himself con- spicuous as a ' king's servant,' and so gain a profitable place, he set to work to prove that all Catholics are by nature and neces- sity murderers, perjurers, and adulterers." On the 9th of March, 1731, it was unani- mously resolved by the House of Com- mons, "that it is the indispensable duty of all magistrates and officers to put the laws made to i:)revent the further growth of Popery in Ireland in due execution," and "that the members of that house, in their respective counties and stations, would use their utmost endeavours to put the several laws against Popery in due execution." Such were the ten-ible penal laws. Is it any wonder that Dr. Samuel Johnson •should describe them as more grievous than all che ten pagan persecutions of the Christians? Is it wonderful that the illustrious Edmund Burke should de- nounce such an infernal code, and term it "a machine of wise and deliberate contrivance, as well fitted for the oppres- sion, impoverishment, and degradation of a people, and the debasement in them of human nature itself, as ever proceeded from the perverted ingenuity qf man?" The penal code was the boon which the "glorious Revolution" of 1688 conferred on the unfortunate Irish race. At the close of this account of the growth of the penal laws. I think it advis- able to give the following passages from Scully's Statement of the Penal Latva. They point out concisely and ably the way in which some of these hideous enact- ments necessarily operated on the entire condition and lives of the miserable Catholics : — "Tlie advantages flowing from a seat in the legislature, it is well known, are not confined to the individual represen- tative. They extend to all his family, friends, and connections, or. in other words, to every Protestant in Ireland. Within his reach are all the honours, offices, emoluments; every sort of grati- fication to avarice or vanity; the means of spreading a great personal interest by innumerable petty services to individuals. He can do an infinite number of acts of kindness and generosity, and even of public spirit. He can procure advan- tages in trade, indemnity from public burdens, preferences in local competitions, pardons for offences; he can obtain a thousand favours and avert a thousand evils; he may, while he betrays every valuable public mterest, be at the same time a benefactor, a patron, a father, a guardian angel to his political adherents. On the other hand, how stands the Catholic gentleman or trader? For his own person no office, no power, no emolu- ment; for his children, brothers, kindred, or friends, no promotion, ecclesiastical or civd, military or naval. Except from his private fortune, he has no means of advancing a child, of making a single friend, or of shewing any one good quality ; he has nothing to offer but harsh refusal, pitiful excuse, or despondent represen- tation." The same author describes the condi- tion of the Roman (Jatholic tradesmen and artizans of the towns under the blasting influence of the penal laws, in the folloAving terms:—" They are debased by the galling ascendency of privileged neighbours: they are depressed by partial imposts, by undue preferences and accom- 54 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. modations bestowed on their competitors, by a local inquisition, by an uncertain and unequal measure of justice, by fraud and f avotiritism daily and openly practised to their prejudice. The Catholic gentle- man, whose misfortune it may be to reside in or near any of these cities or towns in Ireland, is hourly exposed to all the slights and annoyances that a petty sec- tarian oligarchy may think proper to inflict; the professional man risks con- tinual inflictions of personal humiliation ; the farmer brings the produce of his lands to market under liea\-ier tolls. Every species of Catholic industry and mechani- cal skill is checked, taxed, and rendered precarious. " On the other hand, every species of Protestant indolence is cherished and maintained, every claim is allowed, every Avant supplied, every extortion sanctioned ; nay, the very name of 'Protestant' secures a competence, and commands patrician pre-eminence in Ireland." The following passages from one of the able election-speeches delivered by the illustrious Burke at Bristol is pertinent to our present subject :—" It is but too true that the love, and even the very idea, of genuine liberty is extremely rare ; it is but too true that there are many whose whole scheme of freedom is made up of pride, perverseness, and insolence; they feel themselves in a state of thraldom, they imagine that their souls are cooped and cabined in, unless they have some man or some body of men dependent on their mercy. This desire of having some one below them descends to those who are the very lowest of all ; and a Protest- ant cobbler, debased by his poverty, but exalted by his share of the ruling Church, feels a pride in knowing it is by his gener- osity alone that the peer, whose footman's step he measures, is able to keep his chaplain from a jail." Perhaps the following passages from Arthur Young's celebrated Tour in Ire- land^ as coming from an Englishman at once honest and gifted with remarkable powers of observation, are still more valuable ; they throw a flood of light on the real nature of 'the abominable penal laws, and the motives which actuated the Ascendency party in maintainmg them : — '> But it seems to be tlie meaning, wish, and intent of the discovery laws that none of them (the Irish Catholics) should ever be rich; it is the principle of that system that wealthy subjects would be nuisances, and therefore every means is taken to reduce and keep them to a state of poverty. If this is not the intention of these laws, they are the most abomin- able heap of self-contradictions that ever were issued in the world ; they are framed in such a manner that no Catholic shall have the inducement to become rich. * * Take the laws and their execution into one Aaew, and this state of the case is so true that they actually do not seem to be so much levelled at the religion as at the property tliat is found in it. * * * The domineering aristocracy of five hundred thousand Protestants feel the sweets of having two millions of slaves ; they have not the least objection to the tenets of that religion which keeps them by the law of the land in subjection ; but pro- perty and slavery are too incompatible to live together : hence the especial care taken that no such thing should arise among them." — Yovmg's Tour in Ireland, vol. ii., p. 48. Elsewhere he says: "I have conversed on the subject with some of the most distinguished characters in the kingdom, and I cannot, after all, but declare that the scope, purport, and aim of the la,ws of discovery as executed are not against the Catholic religion, which increases under them, but against the industry and property of whoever professes that reli- gion. In vain has it been said that con- sequence and power follow property, and that the attack is made in order to wound the doctrine through its property. If such was the intention, I reply that seventy years' experience proves the f oUy and futility of it. Those laws have crushed all the industry and wrested most, of the property from the Catholics, but the religion triumphs; it is thought to increase." In the years following 1731. the un- scrupulous calumnies disseminated against the Catholics by the preachers and pam- phleteers reached such a frightful pitch of exaggeration, and created in the minds of the ignorant and narrow-minded bigots who read or listened to them such insane and rabid animosity, that projects of ex- terminating the Catholics were planned and discussed. Dr. Curry tells us that "an ancient nobleman and privy coun- cillor, in the year 1743, on the threatened invasion of England by the French under the command of jSlarshal Saxe, openly THE LIFE OP DANIEL O OONNELL. 55 declared in council, ' that as the Papists had begun the massacre on them about a hundi-ed years before, so he thought it both reasonable and lawful on their part to prevent them at that dangerous juncture by first falling upon them.' " Dr. Curry, who lived in those deplor- able days, also gives us the following statement: — "So entirely were some of the lower northern dissenters possessed and influenced by this prevailing pre- possession and rancour against Catholics, that in the same year, and for the same declared purpose of prevention, a con- spiracy was actually formed by some of the inhabitants of Lurgan to rise in the' night-time and destroy all their neigh- bours of that denomination in their beds. But this inhuman purpose was also frus- trated by an information of the honest Protestant publican in whose house the conspirators had met to settle the execu- tion of their scheme, sworn before the Eev. Mr. Ford, a justice of the peace in the district, who received it with horror, and with difficulty put a stop to the intended massacre." Tliese were the darkest days of the penal laws. The fate of an effort made by the Earl of Clancarty, the head , of a once-powerful branch of the great house of ]\IacCarthy, and others to recover the properties of v^hich they had been robbed in the course of the struggle between William and James, after the Kevolution of 16SS. affords an illustration of the almost bopeless prostration of the Catholic body in Ireland at this period. For a time, indeed, in 1742, the earl seemed to have some chance of procuring a reversal of the iniquitous attainder which kept him out of possession of his honours and vast estates, even then valued at £60,000 per annum. Several other persons, imjustly dispossessed, follo-R-ing his example, in- stituted proceedings for the recovery of houses or lands. Not less than eighty- seven suits were in progress. But new proprietors had pm'chased, under confis- cation titles, the estates which this Catholic earl and others in a similar predicament now sought to have restored to them. These purchasers, alanned at the prospect of losing the plmidered properties of which they held unrighteous possession, exclaimed against the notion of the Irish Parliament's acting justly, and causing restitution to be made. Things would come to a pretty pass, indeed, if Protes- tants in possession could be disturbed by Catholics, even thougji the latter might prove that they had been despoiled of their estates unjiistly and illegally ! Such a doc- trine would be destructive to the Protestant Ascendency, which had originally been foimded on rapine, and required to be fed and sustained by plunder. The clamours and interest of these holders of the stolen property prevailed. The Commons passed a string of resolutions which denounced all the proceedings in progress as a dis- turbance of the public welfare, and declared that all "vvho instituted such proceedings, or took part in them in the capacity of lawyer or attorney were public enemies. Tiiis reassm>ed the partizans of the Protestant interest, and so for some time longer a Catliolic could indulge in no reasonable hope of procuring the scantest justice or any redress of his grievances. As for the once-flourishing house of Clancarty, it became extinct, and their title was sub- sequently conferred on the anti-Irish family of Trench. It has been well re- marked, that " there is scarcely a Catholic famUy in Ireland whose story, if impar- tially told, would not illustrate the misride by which the prosperity of the countiy has been overthrowoi and its genius nulli- fied. From the beginning to the end ot the last century, to have been born a Catholic was a stigma which no talent coidd efface, no patriotism remove." In a word, during the fell regime of the penal laws, at home in his o\ra land, the Catholic Irishman was civilly a nonentity, whether he were highly born or lowly; whether he were poor or rich (and in those evil days few Catholics could be rich) ; whether he were endowed with the light of genius and the treasures of learn- ing (and few Catholics imder such laws could acquire learning), or the most ignor- ant of brainless blockheads. But the darkest hour is that before dawn. This old familiar saying was verified in the present instance. I have already observed that English difficulty or disaster generally produced some slight relaxation of the enforcement of the penal laws; then, as now, " England's difficulty was Ireland's opportunity'." On Tuesday, the 11th of May (new style), 1745, the English were not merely in difficulty, but theu- army was totally defeated on the memorable battle-field of Fontenoy ; there the " Saxou-soldier" learned by bitter 56 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. experience that, if liis government had trampled under foot the Irish serf at home, on the other hand the Irisli warrior abroad coidd pUant his foot on his neck and trample Ins vaunted flag in the dust. On that glorious day of Fontenoy "-the Irish J3rigade" swept the "shattered ranks" of '' Butcher Cumberland's" ter- rible column of reserve in wildest rout before them to the fierce battle-roar of " Revenge ! remember Limerick ! dash down the Sassenach!" But additional causes of vexation and dismay to the English " powers tha,t be " quickly follow. In the same year tliat witnessed Fontenoy, Charles Edward, " the young Pretender," grandson of James II., attended by only seven companions, among whom were three Irish officers, makes his adventurous fiescent on the coast of Scotland, deter- mined to strike a final blow to recover the throne of his ancestors. Joined by the hardy Gaelic tribes of the Scotch Highlands, he swoops down on the Eng- lish army under Cope at Prestonpans, takes Edinburgh, marches into England, and even when finally obliged to retire into Scotland, punishes another English army under Hawley at Falkirk. The English Government are in consternation till his defeat and ruin next year at Culloden. All this time the famous arhitcr ekfjajitiaruin, Lord Chesterfield, was viceroy in Ireland. Without the repeal of any portion of the detestable code, its enforcement was greatly relaxed ; the people now went to holy wells with- out fear of being fined or getting a whip- ping; a priest might walk from his own "registered" parish into another, and, fearless of informers, without dread of handcuffs or transportation, might per- form some religious rite; bishops and vicars-apostolic might cross the sea and quietly ordain priests and confirm children in Ireland with impunity. In vain the bigots of the Ascendency faction tried to alarm the popular viceroy with idle stoiies and rumours of Popish machinations. The gay old gallant of fifty-two Avould always laugh aside their tales of terror with some pleasant, airy jest. One bigotted fool came to give his Excellency warning of the startling fact that his own coach- man used to go to mass. " Is it possible? " cried (^'liesterfield; " then I will take care the fellow shall not drive me there." An- other silly courtier rushed into his apart- ment one morning, while he was sipping his chocolate in bed, v/ith the portentous news " that the Pajjists were rising in Connaught." "Ah!" said the old vice- regal wag, looking at his watch, " 'tis nine o'clock — time for them to rise." What a provoking viceroy, indifferent alike to the perils of the " Protestant . interest" and the wicked machinations of murderous Papists! He even said that the only " dangerous Papist" he had met in Ireland was JMiss Ambrose, a lady of great beauty, whom he greatly admired. As soon as England's danger had passed over, tlie conciliatory Chesterfield was recalled, and some inclination was mani- fested to renew the severities of the penal code. From this time forward, however, the cause of the Catholics was not in so hopeless a state; still, acts of insult, and even of atrocious tyi-anny, took place from time to time, almost as bad as those seen in the worst days of the penal laws. We find such acts taking place even in the viceroyalty of the Duke of Bedford, who was instructed to adopt in the interests of England the conciliatory policy. He arrived in Dublin in September, 1757 ; next year a Catholic merchant named Saul was prosecuted under the following circumstances : — Some friends of a young girl named O'Toole importuned her to conform to the Anglican Chiu'ch ; to escape their persecution she took refuge with Saul, who was a relative of hers. One of her Protestant connexions took legal proceedings against Saul, who was told from the bench that Papists had no rights, as " the law did not presume a Papist to exist in the kingdom, nor could they so much as breathe there without the connivance of government." At tliis time, too, new acts against the Catholics were menaced; but the time had at last come when the Catholics began to shew some slight signs of a reviving spirit of resistance to oppression. Some meet- ings of Catholics were held, in which two factions appeared. This Avas somewhat vexatious ; but men so long unused to act like freemen were necessarily disorganized. At length, however, a meeting took place in Dublin, at which Charles O'Connor of Balanagar; Dr. Curry, author of the His- torical Review of the Civil Wars; Mr. Wyse, a merchant of Waterford; and Lords Fingal, Taafe, and Delvin were present. They foimded the first " Catholic com- mittee." This occurred in the year 1758, and may be called the commencement of THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. the Catholic " agitation'" which O'Connell long after dn-ectcd with so much ronown, and made triumphant in 1829. In 1759 this committee, when some apprehension of a Jacobite invasion arose, prepared an address of loyalty, written by Charles O'Connor, and signed by three hundred of the most respectable Catholics of Dublin, to be presented to the House of Commons. For the first time since the close of tlie seventeenth century. Catholic advances were received A^-ithout insult; the address and those presenting it were even ti'eated with civility ; the lord-lieu- tenant sent them a gTacious answer, which he caused to be printed in the Duhlin Gazette^ thus " officially recognizing," to use the words of Mr. Mitchel, " the exist- ence (though humble) of persons calling themselves Catholics in Ireland." Mr. Ponsonby, the Speaker of the House of Commons, also said to ]\Ir. ]McDermot and Mr. Crump, the gentlemen who had presented the addi-ess, •• that he counted it a favour to be put in the way of serving so respectable a body as the gentlemen who had signed that address." Tliis was the first public and official recognition of the very existence of Catholics since the violation of the treaty of Limerick. King George II. died in the year 1760. His reign was a terrible one for the old Irish race. If towards its close things began to look a little better for the Catholics, through the best part of it their condition was wi'etched and degraded beyond all conception and precedent. Mr. Mitchel justly remarks that, " on the whole, this was the era of priest-hunting, of ' discoveries,' and of a universal plunder of such property as remained in the hands of the Catholics. In this pitiful struggle the wild humour of the race would some- times break out, and often desperate deeds were done by beggared men." We shall presently give some illustrations of this. Through the whole reign of George II. fathers were liable to be robbed of the free possession and control of their pro- perties by undutif ul or profligate children, who would make a hyjiocritical show of conforming to the Established Church.' Unprincipled wretches of this stamp brought ruin and despair on many ancient and wealthy families, and, in the words of a very " humble petition and remon- strance" addressed by the Irish Catholics to (reorge II. — which, however, it is pro- bable he never received — '• brought many a parent's gray hairs with sorrow to thr grave." But not merely were the Catho- lics robbed of real estate, but of personal property too. In the same document the Catholics complain " that new and forced constructions have been of late years put upon these laws (for we cannot think that such constructions were ever origm- ally intended), by which, on the sole account of our religion, we are in many cases stripped of that personal property by discoverers and informers — a set of men. most gracious sovereign, once gene- rally and justly despised amongst us, but of la,te grown into some repute by the increase of their numbers, and by the frequency, encouragement, and success of their practices. " These and many other cruel restric- tions (such as no Christian people under heaven but ourselves are made liable to) are, and have long been greatly detri- mental, not only to us in particular, but also to the commerce, culture, and everj" other improvement of this kingdom in general; and, what is surely a melan- choly consideration, are chiefly beneficial to the discoverers and informers before mentioned, who, under colour of these laws, plunder indiscriminately parents, brethren, kinsmen, and friends, in de- spite of aU the ties of blood, of affection and confidence, in breach of the divine laws, of all former human laws enacted in this or pei'haps in any other kingdom for the security of property since the creation of the world." The petitioners then shew conclusively that no argument of necessity can be pleaded for the continuance of the penal laws; after which they obsers-e, — "Nor can (we humbly presume) that only pre- text now left for continuing them in force — viz., their tendency to make pro- selytes to the Established religion — in any degree justify the manifold sevei'ities and injuries occasioned by them. For, alas! most gracious sovei'eign, there is but too much reason to believe that proselytes so made are for the most part such in appearance only, in order to be- come what all sincere Christians condemn and detest, undutiful children, unnatural brethren, or perfidioiis friends; and we submit it to your Majesty's great wisdom and goodness whether motives so repug- nant to the public interest, and to all social, moral, and religious duties, are fit to be confided in or longer encoiu^ged.'* 58 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. During the greater portion of George II.'s reign, Catholic worship had to be celebrated in a stealthy, "hugger-mugger" sort of way. All ecclesiastics lived in continual apprehension. The parochial ■priests were somewhat less exposed to danger than other ecclesiastics. Liberal local proprietors had it in their power to render their existence more secure. As the priests educated in foreign universities — such as Salamanca, Louvain, and others — ^were frequently refined and accom- plished men, equal, if not superior in manners and culture, to the Protestant rectors, who in those days were often, indeed, coarse and unintellectual, their gociety was in numbers- of cases sought and relished by those of the gentry who had literary tastes and polished manners ; and this circumstance Avould naturally be a source of additional protection to them. It was far more dangerous for the regular clergy to venture to live in Ireland ; yet they braved the danger, and in the face of the suspicion and hatx-ed of the Ascen- dency faction were to be found in Ireland during the most perilous days of the penal laws. It required no small amount of courage to defy the bigoted fury that raged against monks, friars, and priests in those "No-popery" days. The arch- bishops and bishops, too, were in a special manner exposed to danger. As they were at all times liable to transpor- tation and the penalty of premunire, it was only by a sort of connivance that they were permitted to confirm and confer orders. Though they continued to exer- cise their sacred functions during this terrible period with courageous zeal and fidelity, yet all throiigh they had to observe the greatest caution and secresy. Their vigilance required to be unsleeping. In Brennan's Ecclesiastical History we are told that, in the reign of George II., Bernard Mac Mahon, Roman Catholic primate, " resided in a retired place named Ballymascanlon, in the coimty of Louth. His habitation was httle superior to a farmhouse ; and for many years he was known through the country by the nam(? of Mr. Ennis. In this disguise, which personal safety so strongly prompted, he was accustomed to travel over his diocese, make his visitations, exhort his people, and administer the sacraments." The same work tells us that another primate, named Michael O'Reilly, " lived in a humble dwelhug at Turfegin, near Drog- heda, and died here about the year 1768." It is ludicrous to find some wi-iters, and even some sei'vile Catholic writers among the rest, talking of the house of Hanover as friends to the principles of toleration. Nothmg could be more hideous than the persecutions that terrorized Cathohc Ire- land during the earlier reigns of that intolerant and brutal dynasty, when priests used to be regularly indicted at assizes, " for that they had at such times and places, not having the fear of God before their eyes, but moved and seduced by the instigation of the devil, said mass and did other functions of a Popish priest, against the peace of our lord the king, and contraiy to the statutes in that case made and proAdded." In the early part of the reign of George I., in the year 1715, during the Highland-Scotch rebel- lion in favour of the claims of the first " Pretender," James III., the Earls of Antrim and Westmeath, Lords Netter- viEe, Cahir, and Dillon, with a great number of untitled gentlemen, were sud- denly pounced- upon and imprisoned in Dublin Castle " on suspicion." They were released when the Scotch rebellion was over. These peers and gentlemen were Catholics : they were of course sus- pected of leaning towards the dethroned house of Stuart. Such was the enlightened tolerance of the princes of the house of Brunswick. In the early years of George III.'s. reign, the Whiteboy riots took place in the south of Ireland. They were chiefly provoked by the horrible extortions of tithe-proctors jmd the infringement on the part of certain landlords in ISIimster of the right of commonage, which the poor rack-rented tenantry had hitherto enjoyed. Now the landlords began to enclose those commons, and thereby deprived the tenants of the only compen- sation which they had to enable them to- live under the yoke of their hard tenures. The people formed 'secret associations, and rose occasionally in a tumultuous and desultory manner. Sometimes they prQled down the fences that had been made round the commons, sometimes they resisted church-rates, and occa- sionally they cut the ears off a greedy and cruel tithe-proctor. This Whiteboy movement lasted for a consid*erable time. The Cromwellian bigots endeavoured to persuade the government that it was a regular Popish rebellion in the interests THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 59 of "the Pretender," inspired by French counsels and supported by French gold. The absurd and mendacious representa- tions of the Cromwellian squirearchy so far prevailed, that ere long a system of military coercion and landlord violence, far more lawless than the worst outbreaks of the Whiteboys, tortured the Catholics of Munster and deprived them of all legal protection. It was dm-ing the course of these troubles that the persecution of Father Sheehy, which terminated in his judicial murder, and of which I shall presently give a few details, occurred. Few incidents in Irish his- tory have sunk deeper into the hearts and memories of the peasantry than the melancholy fate of this brave and gene- rous priest. But in spite of the Whiteboy agitation and "the reign of terror" which landlord influence had established in Munster, the dawn of a better day was appearing, "the thin end of the wedge" was about to be introduced; in a word, the first blow was about to be dealt to the accursed fabric of penal legislation. On the 25th of November. 1763, a Mr. Mason moved for leave to bring in a bill to empower Papists to lend money on mortgages of real estate. In Queen Anne's reign they had been deprived of the power of taking landed security by way of mortgage for money lent. This was inconvenient to the Protestants as well as to the Catholics; for many Protestants wanted to borrow money, and many Catholics had money to lend, if only they could get security for it; intelligent Catholics in Ireland, shut out, like the Jews of that day all over the world, from all the paths of high and honourable ambition, had, like the Jews, concentrated their faculties on the pursuit of gaia; and thus many of them who were thrifty as well as indus- trious had amassed large sums of money ; but now the penal restrictions compelled them to invest all their accumidations abroad; and it was even said that these funds had occasionally furnished supplies for Jacobite invasions. Thus, then, the partizans of British power and the Pro- testants in general had a selfish interest in redressing at least this one Catholic grievance; yet on this occasion bigotry triumphed once more. Protestant pre- judice against the Catholics was still .stronger than even self-interest. In vain Mr. Miison argued that if a Papist could become a mortgagee, he would have a local stake in the country which would make it his interest to support the govern- ment, that his security for his money would be good whde the government was able to maintain itself, tliat it would become at least doubtful in case of a sub- version of the existing government; he even ventured to say that if Papists were to be admitted to all the privileges of Protestants, there woidd hardly be a prac- tical Jacobite among them, whatever there might be in theory. In conclusion (referring to a similar bill that had passed the session before, but had been cushioned by the English Privy Council), he said: " I should therefore be glad that the bill should have another trial, and shall move for leave to bring in the heads of a bill to empower Papists to lend money on the mortgage of land, and to sue for the same." But everything he could urge proved unavaUing to persuade the House of Commons to pass the bUl. A Mr. Le Hunte argued, that it would make Papists proprietors of great part of the landed interest of the kingdom; that so their influence would be extended; that they might make a bad use of this ; that they were not to be trusted ; that it was dan- gerous to act on the assumption that their interests would overcome their principles ; that the Act of the preceding session was only carried by artful management, having been brought in on the last day of the session, when there was only a small house of sixty-two. He asked for a postponment of Mr. Mason's motion, that they might have time for consideration and a fuller house ; he thought Mr. Mason ought not to have brought in the heads of the bdl, as it was cruel to raise expec- tations which would probably be disap- pointed. Accordingly, the motion was postponed till the 3rd of February, 1764. On that day the house rejected (138 for the rejection, 53 against it) heads of a bdl presented by Mr. Mason, "to ascertain what securities might be taken by persons professing the Popish religion for money lent or to be lent by them, and also what remedies they might enforce." Another motion to bring in a bUl enabling them to take securities upon lands, but in such a manner that they could never meddle with the possession thereof, was at once negatived by a majority of 44. Thus we find that the first attempt to procure some relaxa- 60 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O'CONNELL. rion of the ditabolical penal code was a failure; and yet in this failure a certain element of virtual success was involved ; for it was a sign, unmistakable though faint, of a certain advance in lil^erality of views and sentiments to see a bill for even so slight a relaxation introdviced into the Protestant legislature at all, and discussed with something like moderation of tone ; insult at least was absent on this occasion. Manifestly, the Catholics were at length beginning to lift up their heads from the dust, and their cause was gaining ground, however slowly. But at last, in the session of 1772, during the viceroyalty of that witty demoralizer of Irish legislators, the Mar- quis Townshend, it suited the government i;!id the venal Parliament to grant a slight concession to the Catholics. An Act to Encouracje the Reclaiming of Unprofitable Boqs was passed. By this enactment, notwithstanding the laws then in force, any Catholic was allov-'ed "to take a lease of fifty plantation acres of such bog, and one-half an acre of arable land adjoining thereto, as a site for a house, or for the pui-]>30se of delving for gravel or limestone or for manure, at such rent ;i3 should be, agreed upon between him and the owner of the soil, as also from ecclesi- astical or other bodies corporate ; and for further encouragement the tenant was to be free, for the first seven years, from all tithes and cesses; but it was provided that if half of the bog demised were not reclaimed at the end of twenty-one years, the lease should be void ; and no bog was to be considered unprofitable unless the depth of it from the surface, when re- claimed, wei'e four feet at least; and no person was to be entitled to the benefit of the Act unless he reclaimed ten planta- tion acres ; and the Act was not to extend to any bog within one mile of a city or market-towni."' This was the first slight relaxation of the penal code; low indeed must have been the condition of the C'atholics when the donors could make a boast of their generosity in conceding such a miserable boon! In the same session, too, an Act was passed of the old bigoted stamp as a set- off to this mighty and magnanimous concession. The thirty pounds per annum provided by the eighth of Anne as a maintenance for any Popish priest becoming a convert to the Established religion was by the new Act increased to a yearly allowance of forty pounds. The Act recited "that the former Act had not answered the purposes intended, especially as the provision made as aforesaid for such Popish priests is in no respect a sufficient encouragement for Popish [triests to become amverts.'''' Nor did these " Townshend's golden drops," as the Irish nicknamed the new stipends, encourage the priests to become renegades a whit better. In the year 1773 leave was given to bring in the heads of two bills favourable to the Catholics — one, on tlie 9th of November, to empower Papists, upon certain terms and provisoes, to take leases of lives of lands, tenements, and hereditaments; the other, on the 10th of November, to secure the repayment of money that should be really lent and advanced by Papists to Protestants on mortgages of lands, tene- ments and hereditaments. But the bigotry and injustice of the Protestant Ascendency faction prevented these two bills from proceeding at that time. Next year, however, as the gathering storm-cloud of the American Revolution was every day growing blacker and more menacing to England, the British ministry sent the viceroy. Lord Harcourt, absolute commands to force through the Irish Legislature some measure calculated to conciliate the Catholics. The ministers of England began to dread lest the heart of the old race of Ireland might be so roused by the example of the American colonists as to khidlc -n-ith something of its pristint; glow. Irish CathoHcs might at last lose patience, pluck up their courage suddenly, and strive to snatch by force of arms the justice refused to respectful and even humble petitions. O'Connell's maxim was true of those as of later days — "England's difficulty is Ireland's opportunity." On the 5th of March, 1774, " leave was given to bring in a bill to enable His Majesty's subjects, of whatever persuasion, to testify their allegiance to him." This paltry bill passed without opposition. It remitted in no degree the actual severity of the infernal penal code. Still it was a f urthei- recognition of the legal existence of Catholics, so long outrageously denied. Hence it tended in some small measure to remove some of the badges of slavery and ignominy, and so might be regarded as a slight rehabilitation of our race. Some, indeed, may regard it more in the light of an insult John Mitchel seems THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 61 inclined to take this view. If it liad been more favourable, it wonld no doubt liave encountered violent opposition from the mah'gnant bigots of the Ascendency- faction, or probably it would liave been thro-wn out altogether. Tlie historian, Plowden, speaks of it in these terms : — "It gratified the Catholics, inasmuch as it was a fomial recognition that they were subjects, and to this recognition they looked up as to the corner stone of their future emancipation." Such were the paltry beginnings of that long struggle to overthrow the grim and terrible system of persecution and peiaal laws under which generations of the Irish race were forced to groan, "mirespited, unpitied, imreprieved,"' that at last, in 1829, more than half a century later, under the skilful leadership of Daniel O'Connell. was crowned with triumph. No furtlier relaxation of the penal code took place prior to the bii'th of O'Connell. During his earliest years, Catholics were not even allowed to become members of that pro- fession of which he was subsequently such a glorious and resplendent light. JNIr. Mitchel maintains that all the earlier in- dulgences granted to the Catholics "were carefully calculated to prevent them from getting any hold upon the land." In short, he considers tliat "the controlling idea in all the policy of the Ascendency was simple greediness." This view is somewhat at variance with that of an illustrious Irish statesman who lived in those days, whose authority is of the highest, and who ascribes the policy of the Ascendency to mere msolence and an arrogant avarice of power. Edmund Burke, in a letter written in 1775, says: " From what I have observed, it is jjride, aiTOgance, a spmt of domination, and not a bigoted spirit of religion, that has caused and kept up those oppressive statutes. I am sure I have known those who have oppressed Papists in their civil rights exceedingly indulgent to them in their religious ceremonies, and who wished them to continue in order to fm-nish pretences for oppression, and who never saw a man by confomiing escape out of their power but with grudging and regret. I have known men to whom I am not uncharitable in saj-ing. though they are dead, that they would become Papists in order to oppress Protestants, if being Protestants it was not in their power to oppress Papists." It is pleasant to find that the greatest minds of the Irish nation abhorred the penal laws, and sought to destroy them as far as in them lay. Bishop Berkeley, the subtlest of metaphy- sicians and the most amiable of men ; Brook, the author of the Fool of Quality and Gustavus Vasa, a lover of freedom and a truly religious Protestant; Edmund Burke, a splendid orator and one of the profouudest, if not the profoundest, of political philosophers; and Henry Grattan, the most glorious of modern orators and the soul of high-toned, chivalrous honour, — all these illustrious men hated the hellish code, and, as circmiistanccs allowed them, set their face against its existence. On the other hand, it is melancholy to find such patriots as Henry Flood and Lord Cliarlemount on the side of bigotry. In order to make this picture of the penal days complete, I shall now give a few anecdotes and sketches illustrative of life in Ireland in those evil times. They win all, I doubt not, be fovmd more or less interesting, especially as most of them will be given in the words of Daniel O'Connell himself, as he told them to his friend, Mr. O'Xeill Daunt, in the course of various conversations. I will first, however, give the stories of the two Geoghegans, as related in a work entitled The Irish Abroad and at Home. " Seventy or eighty years ago their resided in Soho Square, London, an Irish Roman Catholic gentleman, known among his friends as ' Geoghegan of London.' Pretending to be, or being really, alarmed lest a relative (Mr. Geoghegan of James- town) should confonn to the Protestant religion, and possess himself of a con- siderable property situate in Westmeath, he resolved upon a proceeding to which the reader will attach any epithet it may seem to warrant. "He repaired to Dublin, reported him- self to the necessary authorities, and pro- fessed, in all its required legal forms, the Protestant religion, on a Sunday, sold his estates on Monday, and relapsed into Popery on Tuesday. " He did not effect these changes unos- tentatiously, for 'he saw no reason for manvaise honte,'' as he called it. He expressed admiration of the same prin- ciple of convenient apostasy which, governed Henri IV.'s acceptance of tho French crown. ' Paris vaitt bien une messe ' ('Paris is weU worth a mass'), said that gay, chivalroxis, but somewhat unscrupu- ^ 62 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. lous monarcli. Thus, when asked the motive of his abjuration of Catholicism, Geoghegan replied : ' I would rather trust my soul to God for a day than my pro- perty to the fiend for ever.' "Tliis somewhat impious speech was in keeping with his conduct at Christ Church, where he made his religious pro- fession; the sacramental wme being pre- sented to him, he drank off the entire contents of the cup. The officiating clergyman rebuked his indecorum. ' You need not grudge it me,' said the neophyte; ' it 's the dearest glass of wine I ever ery: for this you should thank God witii all your heart. I learn with great pleasure from our Avorthy friend the rector of Castlerea tliat you have acquired an excellent knowledge in a very short time of the basis of the Protestant religion ; will you be so kind as to state, for the edification of the compan}', the r/rounds upon which you have cast aside Popery and embraced the Church of England?" "Faith, my lord," replied Myers, "I can easily do that: the r/nntnds of my conver- sion to the Protestant religion are tv.fo thousand five hundred acres of the best grounds in the county Roscommon.' " It appears that The Duhlin Umvendty Magazine, some years ago, boasted of the large number of the gentry of Ireland r<{\\o from tune to time conformed to the tenets of the Church of England. It must be admitted that the magazine is riglit as regards the question of fact; but how were they converted ? Did their conver- sion arise from sincere conviction ? No such thing. These gentlemen, as a rule, conformed through fear of losing their property, or through some other worldly motive, either of ambition or avarice. After Catholics began to be admitted into Trinity College, quite a multitude of students abandoned the Catholic religion for the sake of scholarships and fellow- ships. The University Magazine has little reason to boast of Irish conversions to Protestantism; any one who cares for the dignity of human nature ought rather to blush at the mention of such instances of human meanness and indifference to every consideration of principle. In this conversation, that occurred at his table on the 9th of November, 1840, O'Conneil goes on to observe on the subject of these conversions to " Charcli-of-Eaglandism:'' That "under these iniquitous laws it was not sufficient that a man bom of Catholic parents should merely profess Protestantism : it was also necessaiy that the convert should go througli the legal forms of abjuring Popery and receiving the sacrament during* service in some Protestant churcli. I heard of a very curious case, in which the son of Catholic parents, early in the last century, entered Dublin College, professing to be a Pro- testant, liis talents in due time procured for him a fellowship, from which he retared upon a rich college living. He amassed great wealth, bought an estate,' and left it at his death to his son — when, behold ! a bUl of discovery was filed against the son as inheriting from a man H'/io in the eye of the law had been a Papist, inasmuch as he never had made a formal, public, legal abjuration of Popery; so that the Anglican parson, the F. T. C. D., the rector of a college living, who had been in Anglican orders for thirty or forty years of his life, — this man, not- withstandmg all his Protestantism, was legally a Papist, because he had omitted the performance of some legal formula. " It often happened, too, that points of objection to the legal Protestant- ism of apostates were raised by reason of inaccuracy in the certificate of the apostate's abjuration. These certificates often bore that the conforming party ' had received the sacrament during divine service,'' whereas the tacrament in the Anglican Chiu-ch is administered, not during service, but after it. There were frequently needy or dishonest persons to watch for and pounce upon flaws of this sort." In this conversation O'Connell made some remarks, which I have already given, about the honesty of certain Protestants who held Catholic estates in trust, and * O'Conuell, as reported by Mr. Daunt, speaks inac- curately liere ; lower down, it will be seen^ he speaks quite accurately. THE LIFE OF DANIEL O'CONNELL. 69 SO saved them for their rightful owners. It was on this occasion, too, that he referred to that estate of his called (ilen- cara, which, during all the troubles of the country, had escaped confiscation. I believe this was the estate wljich lie used to say the famil}'- had held from such a rejnote period that they hadn't any title- deeds to shew for it. On the evening of tiie 20th of Xovem- ber, 1840, O'Conuell, still in his mountain- home at Parrynane Abbey, related some amusing reminiscences of the penal times to Mr. Daimt and some other friends. The weather was cold and windy, the mountains were covered with snow. All this no doubt made the bright lights and the cheerful blaze of the fire within doors doubly pleasant. It was just the sort of night on which a good-humoured party of guests would be sm-e to listen with proper relish to O'Connell's anecdotes of old tunes and mem.ories. " My poor old confessor, Father Grady," quoth the veteran agitator, '-who was priest oi this parish, and resided with my uncle here when I was a boy, was tried in Tralee on the charge of being a Popish priest : but the judge defeated O'Grady's prosecutors by distorting the law m his favour. There was a flippant scomidrel who came forward to depose to his having said mass. " 'Pray, sir,' said the judge, 'how do you know he said mass?' •' 'Because I heard him say it, my lord.' "'Did he say it in Latin? asked the judge. '^ " 'Yes, my lord.' " 'Then you understand Latin?' " ' A little.' " ' AVhat words did you hear him say ? ' " ^ Ave Maria.'' " ' That is the Lord's Prayer, is it not? ' asked the judge. "'Yes, my lord,' was the fellow's answer. "'Here is a pretty witness to convict the prisoner ! ' cried the judge. ' He swears Ave Maria is Latin for the Lord's Prayer ! ' " The judge charged the jury for the prisoner ; so my poor old friend. Father Grady, was acquitted. I wish that I could remember aU. the oddities and drolleries of Grady. Some of them were amusmg enough. Wlien he lived at Darrj^iane he slept m an office near the house. One rainy night, when he returned wet and weary from a distant station, he went to bed, and had not been asleep an hour when a servant aroused him, saying that Mrs. McSweeny had just been con- fined — that, as the infant was sickly and probably would not live till morning, his reverence must christen it instanter. Grady accordingly put on his wet clothes, went through the rain to the dwelling- house, christened the child, and returned to his bed. In another half -hour he was summoned again; the lady had just pro- duced a second child, puny like its pre- decessor, and requiring to be immediately christened. Grady again put on his wet clothes, ran across to the house through the rain, christened the second infant, and returned to bed. Half an hour had scarcely elapsed when he was atJurd time summoned, for a THIKD child had just been produced, requiring, like the others, instant baptism. Poor Grady's equani- mity was somewhat distiu'bed. He got up and christened the brat, but, instead of returning to bed, went straight to the stable, saddled his horse, and Avas riding away, when old Maurice O'Connell hailed him, and asked him what on earth he was about. " 'I'm going, dear,' ruefully answered the priest. "'Going! Where can you possibly be going such a night and at such an hour? ' "'Anjrvvhere at all out of this place, dear. Mrs. McSweeney has some spite against me, and if I stay here she '11 be horning young raavens every half -hour till morning.' ' ' And, notwithstanding all that Maurice could say, his reverence departed, and got a bed at some other parishioner's house. "At that time," continued O'Connell, "there were faction-fights between the Ijynes and the Eagers at Killarney. One day Father Grady sold a pair of heifers for twelve shillings at the Killarney fair which were well worth two pounds. He did so out of sheer sinq^licity. Presently afterwards a faction-fight took place, the Lynes raising the war-whoop of ' Five pounds for the head of an Eager!' On the following day one of the Eagers, a professed wag, attempted to quiz the priest for his simplicity in selling his heifers so much below their real value. " 'I hear. Father Grady,' said he, 'there were very fine prices for beasts at the fair, especially for heifers.' 70 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. "'In troth, dear,' retorted Grady, 'I can't say I found it so. All beasts went cheap enough except tJte Eccrjers, but I heard five pounds a head bid for them.' "Father Grady was at Louvain at the period of the Tvars in Flanders, and found himself reduced to the utmost distress, his profession not affording him the means of subsistence. He begged his way to the coast, in the hope of meeting some ship that might take him to Ireland, and, amongst other adventures, he fell in with a band of robbers. One of the robbers was a Kerryman, named Denis Mahony, who for his covmtry's sake gave the priest the means of proceeding to Ireland. Father Grady used always to say, " God be merciful to poor Denis Mahony ! I found him a very useful friend in need; but troth, dear, it might not be very convenient to have him as a neighbour.' "The young men who met Grady at Darrynane amused themselves quizzing him upon his suspicious connection with Denis ]>.Iahony, and intimated that what he represented as the robber's voluntary gift was in fact Grady's shcu-e of the booty.'''' To accomit for the fact of a Kerryman's having been found among a band of robbers in Flanders, O'Connell con- jectured that Denis Mahony might have been a deserter from the Duke of Marl- borough's army, and might then have joined the Flemish band of robbers, in the lack of any honest mode of gaining a livehhood. The two last anecdotes can hardly be said to have any direct connection with the subject of the penal laws; but as , O'Connell related them on the particular evening referred to, and as they were rather amusing, I thought I might as well give them here. The spirit begotten of the penal laws, as every one is aware, lived far into the nineteenth century. Indeed, it is far from being quite extinct to-day. On another occasion O'Connell told the following story, which illustrates the feU spirit that occasionally animates the Orangemen of Ireland. In the earlier part of the century there lived a poor half-witted creature nicknamed "Jack of the Roads," who used to run alongside the Limerick coaches. In the words of O'Connell, " He once made a bet of four- pence and a pot of porter that he would run to Dublin from Limerick, keeping pace with the mail. He did so ; and when he was passing through Mountrath on his return, on the 12th of July, 1807, or 1808, he flourished a green bough at a party of Orangemen who were holding their orgies. ,One of them fired at his face, his eyes were destroyed, he lingered and died, and there was an end of poor Jack." "Was the ruffian who fired at him punished?" "Oh no!" replied O'Connell; "to pmiish such an affair as that was not precisely the policy pursued by the govern- ment of that day. Well, blessed be God! things are better now." On another occasion, at his son John's table, having mentioned a Mr. O'Leary who was shot in the year 1773 by Morris of Dunkettle, near Cork, he said, "That man's son was the father of two fine boys; he brought up one of them a Protestant and the other a Catholic ; the poor children early shewed the belligerent spirit of religious hostihty ; they were always squabbling; the CathoUc brother would say, ' We'll get emancipation in spite of you.' 'No you rascal!' the Protestant brother would answer, 'we'll keep our foot upon your necks.'" During the penal days the dominant Church became thoroughly corrupt; the prelates of highest rank were more eager to advance the interests of England as politicians than to propagate the doctrines of their church. Indeed, it may be doubted whether England or the Ascen- dency faction really desired to bring the Irish Catholics within the fold of the Church of England. Bishop Fitzgerald of Killaloe, some years ago — I think in 1865 — in the debate on the Clerical Subscrip- tion Bill, complained in the House of Lords that the English Government had pre- vented the last Irish Convocation from translating the Bible and the Book of Com- mon Praj^eiiinto Irish ; he also complained that similar interference on the part of the English Government had on other occasions damaged the efficiency of the Irish Church. As far. as I understand what the bishop then said, he seemed to insinuate that the English (Tovernmcnt had always looked upon the Irish brancli of the Church of England as a mere political machine, and that, so far from ever having been zealous for what is called the conversion of the Catholic population, they had, in point of fact, been rather inclined to throw obstacles in its way. If THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 71 tliis were the bishop's meaning, I quite agreed with him. As the English G overn- jnent wish the Irish people to be divided, they naturally desire to see a ccrtaia portion of our population profess the creed of the Church of England; but they would no more like to see the whole population Chiu-ch-of-Englanders than they would like to see them lloman Catholics cr Presbyterians. They know that if the entire nation were of one creed British ])ower would soon be at an end. The Irish Protestants, who act on the belief that tlie Englisii sway over Ireland is the bulwark of their religion, are really the "catspaws" of their own enemies and their country's. In short, all through the penal times the Church of England in Ireland was unprogressive and destitute of all religious zeaJ. England could more easily oppress an Ireland divided into hostile sects; the partizans of the Ascendency desired to have serfs on whom they might trampl-e. About the clergy of the Establishment there was little or nothing holy ; this was the age of profligate politicians enthroned in the high places of i-eligion. Durmg a portion of the eighteenth century unhappy Ireland was virtually ruled by that corrupt and malignant persecutor of the Cathohc Irish, Primate Boulter. Later in the same century the primacy was filled by the notorious George Stone, a still more infamous political intriguer. This primate is asserted to have baited his palace near Dublin with the choicest vintages of sunnier lands and with beautiful, be- witching wantons. The weak, evanescent patriotism of the gay young Irish gentle- men of town and country jielded to the dissolute archbishop's sparkling wines and obliging women. Boulter and Stone were both Englishmen. Towards the close of the century a third Englishman, the Earl of Bristol, flourished on the episcopal throne of the rich diocese of Derry; he was every whit as unclerical as the other two, but his whimsical and right reverend lordsliip thought proper to become a staunch supporter of the Irish patriot party. For a while he was the darling of the people, whom he dazzled with his princely state and pro- fusion ; he was a curious combination of the magnificent nobleman and the .turbulent demagogue, the direct opposite to everything sacerdotal. Nor did the lesser clergy manifest any greater signs of holiness than their superiors; rectors enjoying fat livmgs — in many instances unburdened with souls to be cared for, aU the parishioners being Roman Catholics — led the lives of sportsmen and convivialists ; nor were the assistant curates in those days particu- larly zealous. In truth, the EstabHshod Church in Ireland began to be looked on as a mere field for supplying blocklieads or ignoramuses, who. were fit for no other profession, with a means of Kvelihood, anybody in those times would do to make a parson of, One of the amusing anec- dotes O'Connell used to teU furnishes an excellent, albeit laughable, illustration of this fact, and of the episcopal good-nature occasionally to be met with in the days of our grandfathers and great-grand- fathers. It seems a Mr. Barry, a younger brother of Lord BarrjTuore, some time in the last century, became desirous of qualifying himself, by taking holy orders, for the enjoyment of a fine fat living in the gift of his titled brother. The bishop, to whom Mr. Barry applied for ordination, expressed some doubts Avhether that gentleman's theological attainments were sufficient to enable him to fulfil, with even common decency, the ordinary duties of a clerg-jTnan, and accordingly recommended him to pursue a further course of sacred study Shortly after- wards Barry was ordained, and Lord BarrjTUore appointed him to the livmg. A friend who knew him thoroughly inquired how he had managed to pass his examination. "Oh, very well indeed," replied the reverend gentleman; "the bishop was very good-natured (!), and did not puzzle me with many questions." "But what did he ask you?" inquired the other. " A¥hy, he asked me who was the great Mediator between God and man, and f made I rough guess and said it Avas the Archbishop of Canterbury ! " Things are changed for the better now with the Irish branch of the Anghcan Church, but in the penal days, while it was bent on persecuting the unfortunate CathoHcs, and allowed itself to become a mere political engine to help England's un- righteous domination over Ireland, by a just and natural retribution the self- degraded Establishment lost all sacredness — it became, alike within and without, "of the earth earthy." • It is by no means wonderful to find that the physical condition of the Irish 72 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. people, all through the terrible days of the penal laws, was miserable to a degree ; in every past age of British rule Ireland has been poor and miserable. To-day, imder the same accursed blight of her thraldom, she w poor and miserable, and her destiny in the future, should her connection with England continue, is to be poor and miserable still; but during the penal times she had to endure special l^overty and si^ecial misery; the depth of her physical wretchedness was only equalled by that of her moral degradation. Aiid what better state of tilings luider €uch circumstances could the Irish race hope to experience? Famine and pes- tilence were frequent and natural, even necessary, visitants and scourges of the ill-starred isle and its down-trodden inhabitants. After a dreadful and recent visitation of this kind the amiable and patriotic Protestant bishop of Cloyne. Dr. George Berkeley, an illustrious and pm-e- souled exception to the corruption that then disgraced the clergy of the Estab- lishment, the man whom Pope the poet comphmented by the line — "To Berkeley every virtue under heaven." — this admirable prelate writes thus to Mr. Thomas Prior of Dublin, under date of the 19th May, 1741 : " The distresses of the sick and poor are endless ; the havoc of mankind in the counties of Cork, Limerick and some adjacent places hath been incredible ; the nation probably will not recover this loss in a century. The other day I heard one from the county of Limerick say that whole vil- lages were entirely dispeopled. About two months since I heard Sir Richard Cox say that five hundred were dead in the parish, though in a county, I believe, not very populous. It were to be wished people of condition were at their seats in the country during these calamitous times, which might provide relief and employ- ment for the poor. Certainly, if these perish, the rich must be sufferers in the end." The good bishop in those days wrote a patriotic little pamphlet called " The Querist," which is vei-y famous among Irishmen Avho hold the national creed. It may be remarked here that licrkeley, though his near progenitors were l^^nglish, looked upon himself as an Irishman. "The Querist," in the -form of un- answered questions, puts the bishop's views of the grievances under which his country suffered, and the measures best calculated to redress those grievances, in a sufficiently clear light. He asks, among other queries, "Whether there be upon earth, any Christian or civilized people so beggarly wretched and destitute as the commonlrish? " " "N^liether, nevertheless, there is any other people whose wants may be more easUy supplied from home?" " Whether a great quantity of sheepwalk be not ruinous to a country, rendering it waste and thinly inhabited ?" " Wliether it be a crune to inquire how far we may do without foreign trade, and what would follow on such a supposition?" " Whether, if there were a wall of brass a thousand cubits high romid this king- dom, our natives might not, nevertheless, live cleanly and comfortably, till the land and reap the fruits of it?" " Whether a foreigner could imagine that one-half of the people were starving in a countiy which sent out such plenty of provisions? " "Whether it is possible the country should be well improved while our beef is exported and our labourers live upon potatoes?" "Whether trade be not then on a right foot when foreign com- modities are imported only for domestic superfluities ? " " Whether the quantities of beef, butter, wool and leather exported from this island can be reckoned the superfluities of a country where there are so many natives naked and famish ed ? " It is clear that Berkeley saw that the wretched- ness of Ireland resulted from the oppres- sive yoke of England, which degraded the people by penal laws, and robbed them of subsistence by fettering and regulating their industry and commerce for England's exclusive profit. Thus Ireland's woollen trade had been destroyed for England's benefit; thus, when it suited England, the Irish were forbidden to export black cattle to that country, and sheep-farms were encouraged that Yorkshire might be supplied v/ith the raw material of its staple manufacture; thus, subsequently, when a different system suited her, Eng- land turned Ireland into a general draw- farm for agricultural produce of every kind; thus, to-day, the British cry is to let Irishmen perish off their native soil that sheep and cattle may tlirive for England. No wonder the English Government of Berkeley's day took good care not to THE LIFE OF DANIEL O'CONNELL. 73 select him to fill the vacancy for the primacy that occurred the year after he wrote "The Querist." What! though he were the most learned man in the Irish Church — nay, the most illustrious of all the Anglican bishops of the day in or out of Ireland ? — was he not also friendly to tlie unfortmiate land of his birth and to her people? He, then, was no fit instrument for the carrying out of penal laws. Clearlj'^ it would never do to make such a man '-primate of all Ireland," inasmuch as the principal duties of that exalted office in those days consisted, not in performing works of charity and ministering to souls, but in managing all the political, dirty and bloody work of England. Suck icere the terrible days of the penal latrs! * CHAPTER m. Childh'^od of O'Connel: — Paul Jones off the Coast of Kerry — O'Lonn'-il Ivlasters the Alphabet qui^klv — Hi.s Fear i>f DisCTace — Captain Cook's Vonage Round the Wi>r/d — Xomadic Gentry— Early Antici- pations of Giearne^s—OX'onnells Uncle Maurice, surnamed llt:i)(in'i-i'ap — His Love of OM Ballads — Encounter with a Mad Bull — Active Habits — The Crelaghs and the Kerry "Colonels" — His Father Attacked by a Band of Eobber- — Private Theatricals — His Early Religious Training — Pro- testant Visitors and Holy Wafer — His Uncle Maurice's Coffin — MacCarthy More and the Pr.est — The American War. In a former chapter I said O'ConneU was bom in 177.5. B^a remarkable coinci- dence this was the year tliat tlie illustrious Henry Grattan. Ireland's most splendid orator, and perhaps her greatest patriot too, first took his seat in the Irish House of Commons, and commenced his glori- ous career of patriotism. This year also was signalized by the skinnisli of Lexing- ton, the battle of Bunker's Hill, the jiteaguer of Boston, — in a word, the up- rising of the American colonists in that memorable revolt against English taxa- tion and tyranny, that was destined not merely to hiunble the pride of Britain, * The works to which I am chiefly indebted for the mateiials of the foregoing chapter are— John Aiit- chel'B Continuation of MacCf.orjht'ian. a work which Mr. Mitchel modestly calls a compilation, but which may safely be termed the most interesting and valu- able work on Irish history in the English language; Introduciion to .Mitchels .^kiV ,/»/'r«(//; Scul'y's Htitle- mml of the Penal Lain; Edmund B;ii ke s Wri'ings and Speeches: Plowden's Ilisiorii of Ireland ; Brennan's Ecch'i ,.%tiial IIis:ory of Ireland; Cunw's llitorical Revii-io or the Civil V.'^ars; Young's Toiir in Ireland: Madden's United Iri-'liinen: The Jrixii. Abroad and at Borne: Uavis's Lije of Curran; O'Xcill Daunts Per- tonal Recoilections of O'Connell; Berkeley's works. by transforming her colonies into a mighty young republic, but to shake the founda- tions of the worn-out institutions of the Old World, and lead the way to tremend- ous revolutions, which, if they have failed to cause any veritable jDrogress in the affairs of mankind in general, at least have opened the path of lilDerty and glory to many down-trodden nations, and, in their remote results, have tended in a great degree to modify the forms of society and government, and life in gen- eral, in all civilized and many uncivilized countries. First and foremost, this Ame- rican war was siu-e to benefit Ireland, for it placed England in a position of diffi- culty and humiliation. Even in tho third year of the war a British army, commanded by a man of genius, the poetic Lieutenant-general Burgoyne. was forced to surrender. To repeat O'Con- nelTs oft-vittered sajdng, "England's difficulty is always Ireland's opportunity." Every one has heard of the celebrated Paul Jones, wlio, if he cannot in strict- ness be said to have been the first who hoisted the " stai'-spangled " banner on board an American ship-of-war, was at least the first who made the American navy a terror to the foes of the thirteen republics. Paul Jones was hovering off the coast of Kerry in the year 1778; one of O'ConneU's earliest recollections was associated Avith this cruise of the redoubt- able Paul ; the great agitator was then a child in his nurse's arms ; she caiTied the little fellow down to the shore, where he beheld, no doubt with curious and wondering eyes, the two boats' crews whom Paul had sent off with towing- ropes to get his vessel out of shallow water. Tliese fellows had been prisoners of war at Brest. The choice had been offered them of either sailing with Jones or staying in prison. They had agreed to sail -ndth the bold sea-rover, with a mental reservation to escape at the earliest opportxmity that presented itself. Here, off the coast of Kerry, they found the opportunity; they cut the towing-ropes and rowed ashore ; immediately on land- ing they Avent to the nearest jjublic- house to have a jolly carouse in sailor's fashion, leaving some firearms in the boats. Some peasants found the guns and drenched them ; and the sailors were arrested by ordei's of Mr. Ilassett and brought to the jail of Tralee, the county town of Kerry. They exclaimed loudly u THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. against their incarceration, maintaining, not without a show of justice, that they had neither been guilty of nor intended to commit any breach of tlie hxws, and that consequoiitly tlie authorities had no right to consign them to " durance vile." O'Connell, referring to the occurrence in after years, said, " I well recollect a tall fellow, who was mounted on a gray horse, remonstrating angrily at this coer- cion. No legal charge, of course, could be sustained against them, and accord- ingly in the end thtey were released." The tall fellow " seemed to be the lawyer of his party." It is no wonder that this occurrence fixed itseK deeply ia O'Connell's memory. Adventures and adventurers of the sea have been at aU times dear to the imagina- tions of children. The boys of antiquity no doubt delighted alike in the mythical voyage of Jason and the Argonauts for the golden fleece; in the poetic legends of the wanderings and ever varymg ad- ventures of Ulysses and Ji^neas; in the authentic accounts of the voyages of Hanno and Nearchus, and in the sea- fights of Phormion and the Athenian navy. In modern times, the stories of the actual voyages of Vasco de Gama, of Columbus and his companions, of Magel- lan, La Perouse and Cook — in short, the exciting tales of the sea-roamings of the long series of hardy and enterprising- navigators, beginning towards the close of the fifteenth century, and ending Avith Ross, MacClure and MacClintock (the two last Irishmen) in our own day — have been devoured by boys with as much avidity as the imaginary voyages of Robinson Crusoe, Gulhver, or Sinbad. The sea-flglits of the old Scandinavian sea-kings; the exploits of Drake, Raleigh, and Cavendish, in the sixteenth century; the daring deeds of Montbar " the exter- minator, Sir llenry Morgan, and the other piratic or semi-piratic chiefs of the Buccaneers and Flibustiers; and the sur- prising achievements of Du Guay Trouin and Jean Bart in the seventeenth; the fortunate captures of Acapulco or other galleons richly freighted with treasures of Mexican and Peruvian mines, and bound for old Spain, by Commodore Anson or the bold privateer, Woods Piogers, in the eighteenth century; and the wild deeds of the Greek and Mussulman corsairs in the Mediterranean and Archijielago, down almost to our own times — not to speak of the more regular engagements of such heroes as Van Tromp, Tourville, Rodney, Nelson, Cochrane, Barry, Macdonough, Perry, or Farragut — are as dehcious to the mind of an eager-hearted boy as the incidents of the most exciting nautical romance of Marryat or Fenimore Cooper. In fact, one may pretty safety assert that every lively boy, at one period or other of his boyhood, longs to be a sailor. We may without rashness, then, infer that the exploits of so redoubtable a sea- rover as John Paul Jones filled no incon- sidei'able space in the childish day-dreams of O'Connell. At that period Paul was the teri'or of every place on the coast of the three kingdoms, from the smallest fishing-vUlage to the largest seaport town. Hovering incessantly round the coasts of the British islands, at one time he would strike terror into the population of a whole county merely by tumbling a few chunney stalks with his guns (I have talked to Scotchmen who remembered alarms of this sort); at another, byspiking the cannon mounted on the batteries and setting fire to the shipping anchored in. the harbours of sea-port towns like White Haven. When, in the earlier years of the war, he cruised near the shores of America, he harrassed and distressed the enemy all the same by capturing rich prizes. Did he not even seize on board a large armed ship, called the MeUish, two British naval officers, a land captain, a company of soldiers,*h.nd all the supplies of clothing (ten thousand complete suits of unifoi-vis) sent out for General Burgoyne's army? But after January, 1777, he was most frequently to be heard of off the shores of Britain. Now he would carry off Lord Selkirk's plate, not finding his lordship himself there, from St. Mary's Isle. Anon, off Carrickfergus, this daring captain of the "Ranger," after a fierce and sanguinary fight, captures the "Drake" sloop-of-war, astonishing the boat-loads of spectators who came out to see the "Ranger" captured. Again, off Flam- borough Head, in the crazy, half-sijiking " Bonhomme Richard," with a crew greatly inferior in numbers to that of his anta- gonist, with much less weight of metal — many of his guns, too, being honey- combed, and far more dangerous to friends than enemies — the bold adven- turer m that terrible sea-fight, unparalleled for its obstinacy in the history of nautical achievement, conquers thestout " Serapis" THE LIFE OF DANIEL O'CONNELL. frigate, commanded by the stubborn Captain Pearson, while thousands of spectators line the Yorkshire shore to view the moonht battle. Xow we find Paul writing letters of chivakous senti- mentality to Lady Selkirk, and making magnanimous restitution of the captured family plate; now a hon in the grand Parisian sa/ojis — a most rare and astound- ing sea-hon beyond all dispute! This valiant and freedom-loving warrior, of Caledonian birth, the English, in their narrow and stupid egotism, for a long time thought proper to style a pirate, apparently for no better reason than that he took side agamst themselves. Quite as rationally might they have called General Washington, or at least General Lee, his lieuteoiant, who was a native of Britain, a brigand. As, sixty years after the death of Coeur de Lion, to quote the words of Gibbon, " his tremendous name was employed by the Syrian mothers to silence their infants," so, for long after the di'ead combat off Flamborough Head, British nurses, in all probability, fright- ened froward children by threatening to bring Paul Jones to carr^' them away. To the mind's eye of little O'Connell, no doubt, Paul a^siuned the formidable port of a -sea-warrior as daring as Fineen O'DriseoU in the traditions of his native Munstcr, v/hile his youthful imagination would work up the marvellous incidents of Paul's stoi-my career, magnified ten- fold by terror and the rumoxirs of the hour into a sort of historic romance of the ocean, wild and thrilling as boys' romances usually are. This is no very rash or far-fetched conjecture; for we shall presently learn from O'ConneU's own lips what intense delight he took in poring over books of maritime adven- tures; and in a subsequent chapter I shall have occasion to notice that O'Con- nell, once at least, actually thought of "writing a romance, on a subject, however, quite different from that of John Paul Jones. O'Connell, as a child, was quick and persevering to a degree. He mastered the alphabet in an hour. In him the terror of disgrace overcame the natural propensity of a child to indulge in idle- ness. One day Dan was idle. When he came to say his lesson it v/as plain that he had learned it imperfectly. The teacher threatens to beat him. Dan shrinks from the indignity, " Oh, don't beat me," exclaims the future "Liberator," "for one half -hour! If I haven't my lesson by that time, beat me then!" The teacher accorded him the respite, and the task — a hard task, too — -was thoroughly mas- tered by him within the time allowed. This incident reminds one of the ter- rible emotion which the great I^apoleon is related to have manrfested on one occasion, in his boyhood, when he was subjected to a disgraceful punishment a^ school. He was even seized with a vio- lent fit of vomiting. It may be remarked that it was one of those itinerant teachers or hedge-schoolmasters who came into existence owing to the prohibitions of the penal code that taught O'Connell his alphabet. Late in life O'Connell re- marked to his friend, IVIr. Daunt, " I was the only boy who wasn't beaten at Har- rington's school. I owed this to my attention." •■ O'Connell says himself, " The first Ug book I ever read was Captain Cook's Voyage Round the World. 1 read it with intense avidity. When the other children would ask me to play with them, I used to rim away and take my book to the window, that is now converted into a press in the housekeeper's room at Darrjmane. There I used to sit with my legs crossed tailor-hke, devouring the adventures of Cook. His book helped to make me a good geographer; I took an interest in tracing out his voyages iipon the map. That v/as in 1784. I don't think I ever met a book that took a greater grasp of me : there I used to sit reading it, some- times crying over it, whilst the other boys Avere plajing." In the old times people in most coun- tries estimated the value of a district of land as supporting so many head of cattle, etc. This system prevailed in Ireland to comparatively recent times. According to O'Connell, it was the natu- ral, in short, the only way people in those days had of computing the value of their land. It appears that in the re- moter parts of Ireland those gentlemen who possessed large estates led a sort of nomadic lif'e, moving from one farm to the other. The gentry and their house- holds would first eat up the food supplied by one farm, then migrate to the next, and consume its produce. It was easier and more economical for the dijEfei^ent families to move to the food than to live in one principal residence, and have the 76 THE LIFK OF DANIEL O CONNELL. food conveyed to it. The means of car- riage were bad, the roads worse. Indeed, in some localities there were neither cars nor anything worthy of being called roads in those days; so that, where a proprie- tor's farms were at any great distance from each other, obviously the simplest and best plan was to mount tlie whole household on horses and transport them all, "bag and baggage," to the provisions. Of this plan of living O'Connell had ample exjierience in his childhood. His family had a house at Logher, and they used occasionally to move there from Darrynane. O'Connell tells an interesting anecdote of his early aspirations: "My uncle used to get the Duhiin Magazine at Carhen. It usually contained the portrait of some remarkable person, Avith a biographical notice. I was always an ambitious fellow, and I often iised to say to myself, ' I wonder will imj visage ever ajipear in the Duhiin Magazine? ' I knew at that time of no greater notoriety. In 1810, when walkmg through the streets, soon after some meeting at which I had attracted public notice, I saw a magazine in a iihop-window containing the portrait of ' Counsellor O'Connell,' and I said to myself with a smile, ' Here are my boyish dreams of glory realized ; ' though I need not tell you that in 1810 I had long out- grown that species of ambition." When O'Connell was only nine years old, some friends one day dined at his father's table. The topics of the day formed the subject of conversation ; Ire- land's leadmg men were spoken of; a discussion arose about G rattan's elo- quence and services to his country. Gradually Dan grew more and more thoughtfid. A lady present curiously observed the meditative air so unusual in a boy of his tender years; at last she asks, "What ails you, Dan? what are jou thinking of?" The little fellow, sitting cogitating in an arm-chair, turns round and looks at her. " I'll make a stir in the world yet," replies he with the prophetic boldness of precocious genius. In early boyhood O ' Connell was adopted by his uncle Maurice, known throughout Kerry by the sobriquet of " Hunting-cap." This nickname stuck to old JNIaurice on account of his fondness for that style of head-gear. As Charles XII. of Sweden seldom or never laid aside his jack-boots and coarse soldier's coat, or Frederick the Great his blue military coat and cocked hat, so Uncle Maurice was hardly ever seen without his hunting- cap. It was this gentleman who defrayed the expense of the boy's educa- tion, and sent him to the school of that Rev. Mr. Harrington to whom I have already referred. This school was in Long Island, near Cork. It is said that, owing to his tendency to become too much absorbed in study, our hero, Avhen a boy, got the reputation of betcg somewhat cold and distant. Mr. O'Neill Daimt, in his Personal Recollections^ tells us that often during their journeys together, O'Connell, after a tolerably long silence, would suddenly "break out with a snatch of some old ballad in Irish or English." One day he sang out — '• I leaned my back against an oak, 1 thought it was a trusty ti'ee ; But first it bent and then it liroke — 'Twas thus my love deserted me." Mr. Daunt expressed surprise that these snatches of old ballads should linger in his memory. " Oh," cries O'Connell, " I liked ballads of all things when I was a boy. In 1787 I was brought to the Tralee Assizes. Assizes were tlien a great mart for all sorts of amusements, and I was greatly taken with the ballad-singers. It was then I heard two ballad-singers, a man and a woman, chanting out the ballad from which you heard me sing that verse. He sang the first two lines, she sang the third line; both sang together the fourth, and so on through the whole ballad." This stanza, remembered from tlie Amoebean performance of the man and woman m Tralee, if infinitely superior, is certamly less amusing than some verses composed by an imlucky poet of "thfe kingdom of Kerry," which stuck in a corner of O'ConncU's memory among all sorts of metrical odds and ends. The poor bard, being in a starving condition in Paris, was recommended to pay his court to the minister Sartine in a strain of panegyric. Here is the first couplet: — " Yellow Phcobus, inspire my poitrhie To sing the praicses of Monsieur de Sartine." Between Hillgrove and Cahirciveen, O'Connell, when a lad, very narrowly escaped losing his life in an encounter with an infuriated bull. The bull, like his namesake, John Bull, in after times. THE LIFE OF DANIEL O'CONNELL. 77 was seized with a mighty great desire to annihilate poor Dan. He ran at him, and Dan's retreat was cut off by a high ditch. The career of the future Liberator seemed about to be prematurely cut short. But it was written in the book of fate, as the great Napoleon would say. that Dan was to speak and do great things. At the moment that his destruction appeared ine\itable, the brave little fellow faced the taurine monster pretty much in the same coui'ageous way he used to face and out- face the other formidable Bull in after years, lie threw a good-sized stone at the bull's forehead, and stunned him. This gave Dan breathing-time before the brute coidd recover himself. Meanwhile, a troop of boys came to the assistance of cm- juvenile hero, and pelted the discom- fited bull out of the field; and thus Dan was rescued, and lived on to enjoy before he died almost the highest earthly great- ness and renoAsni. It were curious enough, if one had time and inclination, to specu- late on the very considerable difference it woidd have made to Ireland and the Irish if that mad bull had succeeded in carrying out his wicked will, and had incontmently tossed young Daniel on his horns and out of existence. One can easily guess, after hearing this anecdote, that O'Connell was from his earliest years blessed with a fair share of physical as well as mental energy. He says of himself, " Activity is Avith me a habit. I was always active, and my brother John was always active. I re- member one morning, when John was a lad. seeing him prepare to set off on a walk of several miles at sunrise, after having sat up the whole night dancing, and without having gone to bed at all. I said to him, 'John, you had better take your mare.' ' Oh,' said John, ' I'll spare the mare; the walk will do me good.' So off he set; and his mare expired of fat in the stable the verj^ same day. HoAv often have I heard the voice of old John O'Comiell calling out at cock- crow under our gate, ' Cur a maugh Shane O^ Council agus an cu^^^ ('■^ Send out John 0''Connell and the greyhound^^). In a subsequent portion of this bio- graphy we shall have occasion to see Daniel O'Connell, even in his old days, on foot, with a leaping-pole in his hand, hunting the deer over his native momi- tains of Kerry, and witJi a vigour and activity unsurpassed by the most youthful and indefatigable of his companions in the chase. O'Connell used to tell some veiy curi- ous and amusmg particulars of a class of cow-stealers that existed in Kerry in the days of his childhood. These anecdotes will give the reader a curious picture of the state of society in Kerry in those wild times antecedqnt to the repeal of the penal laws. " AVlien I was a child" — O'Connell is speaking — "there was a horde of cow- stealers, called the Crelaghs, inhabiting the moimtains of Glancara. They used to steal cows in Galway and Clare, and sell them in this part of the country; and then, with admirable impartiality, they woidd steal cows here and sell them in Clare or Galway. They were a terrible nuisance to the peasantry ; but they received a sort of negative protection — ■ that is, they were left unmolested by the leading Protestant gentry, who then were popularly called 'colonels.' To these 'colonels' they occasionally made pre- sents of cattle. Impunity emboldened them, and at length they stole fourteen cows from my father, who was in mdifferent health at the tune. This was intolerable; and my father collected a numerous party to surround the Crelaghs' hut in one night, in order to take and surrender them to justice. The Crelaghs rushed out and made a desperate defence. Two of them were taken, but the rest escaped. My father shot one man through the hand in a scuffle, but the wounded fellow contrived to get off. Those who escaped still continued their depredations; and the power of the few Catholic gentry to check them was sadly crippled by the legal incapacity of Catholics to hold the commission of the peace. "The Crelaghs resolved to avenge themselves upon my father, who got information one dark evening, when out riding, that the gang lay in wait to mixrder him. His informant desired him to go home by a different road. He did so, and encountei'ed the ruffians, who rushed down the hills to meet him, and fired ; his mare, which was very wicked, kicked and threw him. Whilst he was down they fired again, and missed him a second time. He remounted, and, strik- ing spurs in his mare, was speedily beyond their reach, escaping several shots that were fired after him. " It was not very easy for a Catholic 78 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. to interest the law in his behalf, even against these pestilent vagabonds; but at length, ly good luck, one of the gang robbed a Mr. Hassett, a Protestant gentle- man, of his purse and dress-wig upon the highway, lliis incited Mr. Hassett to spirited measures, amongst which was his getting himself made a magistrate, and using his justiceship to bi'ing the rogues to punishment. After this the gang was soon dispersed; three were taken and hanged, the rest escaped." The Crelaghs, we see, made presents of cattle to the Protestant gentry, who, being of the Ascendency faction, could be magistrates or Avhatever they pleased to be, and so were objects of terror to these outlaws. The Catholic gentry, on the other hand, few in numbers and de- .prived of aU civil rights, were in no degree formidable ; on the contrary, they were alike incapable of protecting them- selves or others. The Crelaghs, then, did not think it worth while to conciliate them by offering them the gift of any portion of their spoils ; of com-se, if the Catholic gentry had possessed the same influence that the "colonels" had, they too would have been tempted to forget their duties to society. Would they have yielded to the bribes of the Crelaghs in the same manner ? Truly it was a singular state of society when such despicable bribes could seduce men of rank to a base connivance at the miserable thefts and dejiredations of a gang of cow-stealers. For us, living in the present day, it is surprising to contemplate the great extent to which, in the times I am referring to, the behef in the absolute power of these *' colonels " Avas rooted in the mind of the people ; in fact, the authority of the law seemed as uothmg when cast into the balance against their good will and plea- sure. The odd notion even prevailed amongst the predatory gangs which in- fested some of the Avild fastnesses of Kerry that, to give validity to a judicial sentence, it should be backed by the assent of one or other of these local potentates. Mr. Daunt gives a singular instance in illustration of this: — A man was convicted of horse-steahng at Tralee ; as he seemed quite careless and indifferent while the judge Avas passing sentence of death upon him, a bystander asked him, *' Do you know what my lord is saymg, you stupid omadhawn? " "To be sure I do!" rephes the convict, preserving the same surj^rising air of unconcern ; ' ' but I don't care what he says, for Colonel Blennerhassett is looking at me all the time, a.nd he says nothing." This would be ludicrous to a degree if the circumstances in which the man stood did not rather make it shocking ; in truth, the administration of the law in Ireland in those wild days is a curious subject and worthy of deep study. In ordinary- cases between man and man, it was doubt- less far worse than it is at present ; in all cases, however, of a political complexion, things legal move to-day pretty much in the same groove that they moved in then : nor do the country-people of Ireland meet mth any improved administration of justice worth speaking of in cases of the agrarian kind. Mr. Gladstone's new law of landlord and tenant, though doubt- less it has made some improvement on the past condition of the tenant-farmers, has fallen far short of the too-sanguine and even foolish expectations which that minister's accession to the office of prime muiister awoke in the minds of too many gullible Irishmen. We have already had experience enough of the workings of the new Act to see clearly that landlords can still make the laws an instrument for the oppression, and even extermination of their tenantry. In short. Irishmen should receive and lay to heart as gospel truth the memorable maxim uttered by John Mitchel in 1848, and since inculcated over and over by hini and by other patriots, that " no good, thing, nor even the commencement of ii good thing, for Ireland can come out of the English Parliament." To return for a moment to " Colonel" Blennerhassett. Shortly after the first accouchement of his lady, a neighbour called at the " big house," and, after some other inquiries, asked how "the colonel was?" " Which do you mean, the young colonel or the old one?" asked the ser- vant in return. This ^^youmj ColoneV Blennerhassett was at that moment rather less than one week old. This was belief ia the " colonelship " of the gentry of the Protestant Ascendency with a vengeance! In his boyhood, O'Connell sometimes took a part in private theatricals. His memory was so good that he once got sixty lines by heart in an hour, and that without the shghtest trouble. All amateurs, however, are not, like O'Connell, THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 79 blessed with excellent memories. »Some persons, indeed, are awfully stupid about getting a part oif by heart. Sometimes the stupidity is very droll. "V^lien GUI' hero LQ his young days, along with some companions, got up a private play in Tralee his friend Ralph Hickson, was to take a part. All he had to say was, " Put the horses to the coach ; " and yet he contrived to make a stupendous blunder in trying to repeat on the stage even that little sentence of six short words. " How conld he manage to blxmder that?" a friend asked O'ConneU. "Why, he said, 'Put the horses into the coach ! ' " O'ConneU was carefully instructed in religious matters in his youth. Doubt- less his parish priest, Father O'Grady, was an excellent and conscientious pastor, zealous, Hke most of the Catholic priests in Ireland during the rage of penal per- secution. I have already given some anecdotes illustrative of the whimsical humour of this spiritual guide of O'Connell's early years. He seems to have been a primitive, merry -souled, "kind-hearted old man, characterized by a sort of quaint and guileless simplicity altogether pleasant to meet with. While there can be not doubt that he and others took great pains to rear O'ConneU in the strictest religious principles, so that in every period of his after-life " the liberator's " devotion to and reverence for the faith of his fathers remained earnest and unalterable, there is yet no just foundation for the statements of those who have asserted that he was originally intended for the priesthood. In a letter addressed to the editor of The Duhliii Eveninq Post, bearing date the 17th of July, -1828, O'ConneU en- deavours to correct this and another mis- statement: — "It is right to be accurate even in trifles." Then, referring to a paragraph which had appeared in the papers, his letter says: — "It contained two mistakes. It asserted that I was bom in 1774; and, secondly, that I was intended for the Church. I wa» not intended for the Church. No man respects, loves or submits to the Church with more ahxcrity than I ; bpt I was not intended for the priesthood. It is not usual with the Catholic gentry in Ire- land to determine the religious destiny of tlieir children; and being an eldest son, born to an independence, the story of my having been intended for the Church is a pure fabrication. I was not born in the year 1774. Be it known to all whom it may concern, that I was born on the 6th of August, 1775 — the very year in which the stupid obstinacy of British oppression forced the reluctant people of America to seek for security in arms, andto commencethatbloodystruggle for national independence which has been in its resrdts beneficial to England, whilst it has shed glory and conferred liberty pure and sublime on America." O'ConneU used to tell a good story of two Protestant gentlemen who were visitors on one occasion at Darrynane Abbey, the seat of his uncle Maurice. Our hero himseM was stopping there at the time. "On Sunday," says O'ConneU, " as there was no Protestant place of worship near, they were reduced to the alternative of going to mass or doing without public worship. They chose to go to mass ; and on entering the chapel they fastidiously kept clear of the holy water which the clerk was sprinkling copiously on all sides. The clerk observed this ; and feeling his own dignity and that of the holy water compromised by their Protestant squeam- ishness, he qtdetly watched them after service, and planting himself behind the sanctuary door, through which they had to pass, he suddenly slashed the entire contents of his full-charged brush into their faces. I thought I should have been choked with laughing. You can't conceive an^^thing more ludicrous than the discomfited look the fellows had." O'Connell's fancy was so tickled with the recoUection of this grotesque in- cident that, when teUing it, he couldn't refrain from chuckling heaitUy for some minutes. He used to tell a singular anecdote of his uncle, old ilaurice, alias " Hunting- cap." " Old Mr. CoimeU of Darrynane pitched upon an oak tree to make his own coffin, and mentioned his purpose to a cai-penter. In the evening the butler entered, after dinner, to say that the carpenter wanted to speak with him. ' For what?' asked my uncle. ' To talk about your honour's coffin,' said the car- penter, putting his head inside the door over the butler's shoulder. I wanted to get the fellow out; but my uncle said, ' Oh, let him in by all means. WeU, friend, what do you want to say to me about my coffin?' 'Only, sir, that I'U 80 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. saw up the oak tree your honour was speaking of into seven-foot plank.' • Tliat would be wasteful,' answered my uncle; ' I never was more than six feet and an inch in my vamps the best day I ever saAv.' ' But your honour will stretch after death,' said the carpenter. ' Not eleven inches, I am sure, you blockhead ; but I'U stretch, no doubt, perhaps a couple of inches or so; well, make my coffin six feet six, and I '11 warrant that ■will give me room enough.' " We may feel satisfied that the old ruins to be found in so many parts of romantic Kerry, with the hoary traditions and legends hanging and clinging like ivy around them, deeply impressed the mind of O'ConneU in his youth, and bound his heart by the strong chain of association more and more firmly every day to the love of his birthplace and his entire fatherland. Doubtless, ere he reached manhood, he had often visited Killarney and all the other enchanting spots that make the south-west of Ireland a sort of fairy region. On the occasion of such visits he would see Mucki-oss Abbey, still beautiful and impressive even in decay; the crumbling walls of Ross Castle and other time-haunted ruins, not less venerable or suggestive of the past and its vanished forms of life; he would hear recited the innumerable local legends of The O'Donohoe; alike the ruins and the tales of other days would take hold of his imagination and become mys- teriously intei'twined with all his feelings. The subtle influences of old legendary stories, whether of love or terror, are well nigh inexplicable. O'ConneU used occasionally to refer m after life to the particulars connected with local anti- quities and traditions which he had gleaned and treasured up in the days of his youth. On one occasion, having asked a clergyman if he had seen the old chm'ch at Kilkee, near Greena, on the road from Killarney, he told the folloAving traditional anecdote of an act of sacrilege committed by one of the fierce and haughty chiefs of Desmond. Doubtless he had often thrilled at the recital of this and shuilar wild deeds in his boyhood. Speaking of the old church, he said, "It was unroofed and desecrated over three centuries ago ; the MacCarthy More of the day was in the habit of attending mass there, and ordered the ofiiciating priest to delay the celebration of mass every Sunday imtil he should arrive. The priest com- pHed for some Sundays ; but one day the chief was so late that the priest, in order no longer to detain the congregation, commenced divine service. He had not proceeded far when MacCarthy More entered the church, and being enraged at the presumption of the priest in neglect- ing to wait for him, rushed to the altar, and felled the priest to the floor. The bishop could not bear that the scene of such a crune should continue the centre of parochial devotion, and accordingly he got the church mrroofed, and another' one built in a different part of the parish." It appears that a great many Protest- ants of Killarney used to get married in this old ruined church of lulkee. As, in the case of their not getting a licence, it was necessary for them to be married in a parish church, many couples modestly preferred the seclusion of the ivy-fes- tooned walls of mouldering Kilkee, where they would be safe" from all prying intrusion during the matrunonial cere- mony, to the staring and curious crowds sm*e to gather around all weddhig-parties in the church of KUlarney; He spoke thus on another occasion of certam old burial-grounds between Cahir- civeen and Darrymore: — "I never can pass the old burial-grounds of Ivilpeacon and Killogroin, among the hills, without thinking how strange it is that they shoidd be totally deserted by the present generation: nobody ever is buried in either of them nov/, and they have been disused so long ago that not even a tradition exists among the peasantry of the tune Avhen, or the cause wherefore, interments were discontinued in them." On one of the old castles of his native county he made these reflections: — "What an undigested mass of buildings are the relics of the Earl of Desmond's court at Castle Island! and how much the differ- ence between our habits and those of our forefathers is marked by the architecture of their dwellmgs and of ours! The old \ castles, or rather the old towers, of Ire- land were manifestly constiuctcd for inhabitants who only stayed within when the severity of the weather would not allow them to go out. There seems to have been little or no provision in the greater number of them for internal comfort; and what a state of social insecurity they indicate ! Small loop- THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 81 holes for defence, low, small entrance- doors for the same purpose — evidently it was a more important object to keep out the enemy than to ventilate the house." The Earls of Desmond here referred to were the Norman Fitzgeralds, not the chiefs of the MacCavthy clan, who had heen princes of Desmond in'the old Celtic times. As we have just had occasion to refer to an ijicidcnt in the life of a MacCarthy More, as related by O'Connell, I cannot refrain from here givuig an amusing anecdote of his, about a lady of the MacCarthy family, though I must own it is in no way connected with the subject of the present chapter — O'Connell's child- hood. Speaking of some imposing cavalcade that had attended him in one of his many political progresses, he remarked: — " Those things are all comparative ; when a lady of the 2\IacCarthy family was sitting in her hotel at Paris, working embroid- ery, she heard shouts of triumph in the street for Louis XIA^'.'s grand entry after his successes in Flanders; but she stirred not from her task. "'What!' said her companion, 'will you not come to the window to look at tlie king's triumphant entry?' " 'No,' replied the lady; 'I have seen MacCarthy ^Nlore's triumphant entry into Blarney : and what can Paris furnish equal to that?'" It was probably in this early period of his life that O'Connell acquired his exces- sive fondness for the old Latin hymns of the Catholic Church : in after days the great agitator used frequently to begm repeating some of them when travelling ; his favourite appeared to be — " Lauda Sion salvatorem, Lauda Duceni ct Pastorem ; " also the grand hymn beginning with the words — " Stabat Mater Dolorosa, Juxta cruoem lachr^tnosa Dum pendebat Alius." During these early years of O'Connell's life, the events of the American war followed each other in rapid succession. In 1776, the year after O'Connell's birth, the Congress of the revolted colonies issued their ever-memorable Declaration of Independenco. In the same year, Washington, who, immediately after Bunker's Hill, had been appointed Com- mander-in-chief, captured or destroyed at Trenton, on the Delaware, a large body of the Hanoverian auxiliaries in the British pay. In 1777 the surrender of General Burgoyne's army took place, which was a des])erate, if not a ruinous blow to England's j^restige in America; still, the war continued with varying fortune for some years longer. The credit of tlie thirteen republics was at times sunk to the very lowest ebb ; their paper-money depreciated till it was of hardly any value; their soldiery were often without shoes, without clothes, food or regular pay — discouraged, moreover, by frequent defeats. The integrity, pat- riotism and constancy of Washington, together with his rare power of influ- encing the minds of tlie troops under his command, barely saved the army frojn complete dissolution, and the foitunes of the young commonwealths from total ruin. At last, however, brighter hopes dawned on the Continentals, and inspired them to carry on then* struggle for national existence with fresh -strung energy. The French monarchy recognized the inde- pendence of the new-born republics ; and on the 6th of February, 1778, a treaty of alliance was signed at Paris, by which France bound herself to aid America in; her struggle for independence. Almost immediately after, a French fleet under C'ount d'Estaing appeared off the Ameri- can shores to co-operate with the patriot forces. More than three years later, ori the 19th of October, 1781, the army of Lord Cornwallis was forced to capitulate, at Yorktown, to the combined French and American forces under Count Roch- ambeau and General Wasliington. After this momentous event the war was vir- tually at an end ; preliminary articles of peace between Great Britain and the United States were signed at Paris on the 30th of November, 1782 ; a cessation of hostilities Avas proclaimed througliout the American colonies on the 10th of April, 1783 ; and finally, a definitive treaty of peace was signed at Paris on the 3rd of September, 1783. In a word, the pride of England was humbled in the dust, and a giant young republic, or rather confederation of republics, started into independent existence full armed. The temporary prostration of British power was as usual a Godsend to Ireland. During these early years of O'Connell's life public changes of vast importance 82 THE LIFE OF DANIEL o'CONNELL. took place in Ireland. _ The revolution of 178^^ which for a time made Ireland, •form'ally and technically at least an in- dependent nation, was earned by the mere teiTor with which the guns and bayonets of more than 70,000 Irish volun- teers inspired England, in her crest-fallen and exliaustcd state, at the close of this American Revolution. Within the period extending from the Year of our hero's birth to the close oi the session of the Irish Parliament in 178'? certain relaxations of the peiiai <;ode'took place. As these events mflu- enced to a great extent the subsequent destiny of Ireland, and as then- bearmg upon O'Connell's.career m after-life was Jso very gTeat, it wUl be proper for me to give a short outline of them m the . next chapter.* CHAPTER IV. ■Brief sketc'n of i-'ao Irish Volunteer Movement and the RevoUition of 178-2-The Reform Couvention- Flood and Grattan-Further Relaxations of _t.:e Feia Laws-Beflecuons of England's Concessions in 17S'>_0'Conneirs Opmion of Gratta,n-Hi.s Opinion on the Question or " Simple Repeal. j From an early period after the English invasion, parhaments existed m Irehmd For centuries, however, they were conrmed to the small territory called the 1 ale Tlie ancient race, contemptuously styled hy the Norman and Saxon colony " the mere Irish," were excluded from all par- ticipation in the deliberations of those as'^embhes. To them, so far from being any source of beneit, they were an un- mixed evil, for they gave their oppressors the means of legalizing outrage and ^yrono• The laws were of the most exclu- sive kind. The native Irish were not regarded as havuig any claim to those privileges which were admitted to belong <)f rio-ht to the meanest of the British settlers and descendants of settlers m the Pale On certain occasions — m fact, when some of the Irish, wearied with the social confusion around them, had even asked for such an extension of English laws and usages as they fancied would give them security against rapacity and injus- tice— then petitions were repciled con- temptuously. When, at a later period, the whole of Ireland was made into shire- • The hooks to which I am chiefly ^^^^^"1 f°y,*'?.^. materials of the above chapter are U Neil Dauts Fa-sm^r r.ecotlections, and Fa^an's Ufe oj Conndl. ground, so that representatives attended Parliament from every part of the island ; and when, theoretically at least, the old race were regarded as entitled to the same privileges with the rest of the king s subjects, still religious enactments ot a penal kind, generally speakhig, amounted to a virtual exclusion of the vast majority of the native Irish from all participation m the principal rights conferred by the constitution. The Parhament, m short, still remained the mere Parhament ot the colony, instead of becoming the Parha- ment of the Irish people. Early in the parliamentary history ot Ireland we find England claiming a certain control over Irish legislation. In. the reio-n of Henry VIE, during the admmis- tration of Sir Edward Poynings, Acts were passed— commonly knoATO as Poynings ta,ys— providing, first, that all laws enacted by the Parliament of Eng and which related to the welfare of England should have validity and be acted upon in Ireland; and, second, that no bill should be enacted, or even brought for- ward in the Parliament of Ireland, which 1 had not beforehand received the sanction of the king and council in England ; nor I was it even to be lawful for the future to call any Parliament in Ireland at all until the cliicf governors and council had certified to the kmg, under the great seal "the causes and considerations — m short, the laws intended to be brought forward— so that the same might have the approval of the king and his conned. More than two centuries later, m the reio-n of George I., an Act was passed m the^ London Parliament declaring that the kin"- with the advice of the Lords and Commons of England, "hath had of ricrht, and ought to have, full power and authority to make laws and statutes ot sufficient force and validity to bind the people and the kingdom of Ireland. "And be it further enacted and de- clared by the authority aforesaid, that the House of Lords of Ireland have not, nor of right ought to have, any jurisdic- tion to judge, alhrm or reverse any judg- ment, sentence or decree given or made m any court within the same kingdom; and that all proceedings before the said House of Lords upon any such judgment, sentence or decree, are, and are hereby declared to be, utterly null and void to all intents and purposes whatever." This dcclai-atory Act was the last Act of THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CON NELL. 83 the kind passed by the English Parlia- ment. The Piotestant colony in Ire- land, though compelled to submit for a time, before many years began to shew a spirit of resistance to this usui'pation on the part of England. Even so early as the year 1G98, ilr. William Molyneux, one of the members of Parliament for the University of Dublin, had published a work, entitled, The Case of Ireland hcinq hound Inj Acts of Parliament in England, Stated, in which he distinctly asserts the independent power of the Parliament of Ireland as the legislature of a sovereign state. This denial of the right of supre- macy asserted and exercised by the English Parliament, at the period of its pubhcation, aroused a great feeling of indignation in England. A committee of the Enghsh Parhament was appointed to examine the treatise, and on the report of that committee it was unanimously re- solved, " That the said book was of dangerous consequence to the crown and to the people of England," etc. The English House of Commons also in an address to the king rebuked the Irish House ior pretending to re-enact and alter an Act made in England, and promised I-lis Majesty their co-operation in main- taining the dependence and subordination of Ireland to the imperial crown of Eng- land, and besought him to discourage all things tending to impair that dependence. The spirit of Molyneux's book lived and influenced the men who came after him. The next remarkable man who protested against the English influence in Ireland was Dean Swift. His first pamphlet on Irish affairs was published in iri'O, the year after the passing of the d*.claratory Act of George I. It was, A Proposal for the Use of Irish Alamifacture. No man did more to create an Irish feeling among the Protestants of Ireland than the celebrated dean in the series of panaphlets, replete with wit, ironical humour, scathing satire, argument — in short, the most varied literary ability — with wiiich for years he assailed the abuses of EngUsh rule. The author of the Drapier's Letters — those letters in Avhich he develops his real sentiments on the absolute right of the Irish nation to govern itself independently of the EngUsh Parliament — became, and continued to the day of his death, the most popular man in ireland. Strange to say, he was even popular with the C'athohc body, for whom, if he did not exactly shew disdain, he at least manifested no sympathy. They forgot or forgave this, however, on account of his vigorous assertion of the independence of their countiy. They felt intuitively that if their country vfere once independent their state of bondage would soon come to an end. Towards the middle of the eighteenth century another assertor of the rights of Ireland (meaning the rights of the Pro- testant colony) against the usurpations of England arose; this was Dr. Charles Lucas, a man immeasurably inferior, in- deed, in abilities to the illustrious dean of St. Patrick's, but still possessmg a re- spectable intellect anc^ great honesty^ courage, and energy. Unfortunately he, too, was without sympathy for the down- trodden majority of his coimtrjoncn ; he was even absolutely intolerant in his demeanour towards the Catholics. In spite of this, however, he did good ser- vice to the cause of Ireland: he was a strenuous assertor of the sovereign right of the Irish Parhament. For his princi- ples he was persecuted by the English Government; and the venal and servile Irish Commons, not yet ripe for the doctrines or language of hberty, lent themselves to their country's enemies, and, became the instruments of the pat- riot's persecution; after forcing him to fly from Ireland, they voted him to be an enemy of his country. The famous Dr. Johnson honoured him thus : — "The Irish miiiisteis drove him from his native country by a ^proclamation in which they charged him with crimes which they never intended to be called to the proof, and oppressed him by methods equally irresistible by guilt and innocence. Let the man, thus driven mto exile for having been the friend of his countiy, be received in every other place as a confessor of Lberty, and let the tools of power be taught m time that they may rob but cannot impoverish." The original steps which led to the Octennial Bill, passed in 1768 — a bill which in its turn grad- ually led to Ireland's short-lived inde- pendence — were due, in the opinion of the celebrated Lord Charlemont, to the influence of Lucas. In the words of another, "He raised his voice when all aroimd was desolation and silence ; he began with a corporation and he ended with a kingdoni." From the years 1701 to 1770 the 84 THE LIFE OF DANIEL o'CONNELL. famous Henry Flood, one of Ireland's greatest orators, struggled liard to create an Irish national party. Lucas had sprung from the ranks of the people: Flood -vvas an aristocrat. He succeeded in rousing to life and action a strong opposition party against those tools of British power miscalled the Irish govern- ment. He intended this national opposi- tion to be a permanent depository of fixed public principles, which "should not fluctuate with the intrigues of the coui't nor with capricious fashions among the people." This period I have specified was probably the noblest period of Flood's life. Before this the opposition to England had only been desultory — hence- forward it was Steady and progressive. Alter 1770 Flood's career was for a time anything but glorious : he accepted office, and consequently his opposition to govern- irient was silenced. The most patriotic Irish writers, however — John Mitchel, for example— are inclined to acquit him of the charge of being influenced by corrupt motives. The time was un- favourable for aggressive action ; perhaps by taking office for a while he could best serve his country. In the days of '82 we again find him in the patriot ranks. Much of his conduct during the exciting scenes of that glorious time deserves the highest praise, but much, too, is at Mast questionable; and certainly his narrow- ness, not to say downright intolerance, v\fith regard to the claims of the Catholic portion of his conntrymen, as it helped to prevent all chance' of establishing his country's newly-won independence on the broad basis of the 7(tnvc7-sal Irish nation, so it deserves the severest condemnation. Yet, with all these drawbacks, Flood must ever be esteemed one of our greatest patriots. But " the noblest Roman of them all," the grandest of Irish patriots, was the illustrious Henry Grattan. No doubt the labours of the great men who jsre- ceded him — of Flood especially — had swept aside many obstacles that might have stood in the way of his and Ireland's triumphant march to freedom ; but mak- ing due allowance for the brave efforts •of his predecessors, he stands forth the foremost Irishman of his age, if not of every age. He w^as refined, enlight- ened, generous, disinterested, ideal, •chivalrous, and even daring to rashness ; but the gift in which he excelled almost every man that ever lived was his bold, fiery, impassioned, suggestive, rythmical, imaginative, picturesque, entirely original and thoroughlj^ Irish eloquence. He was the first great orator whose "thoughts that breathe and words that burn" were really "racy of the Irish soil." lie came, at once the deliverer of his country and the tjpe and truest exponent of her genius. "Was it any marvel that this man, whose broad and systematic genius embraced within its advocacy the wrongs and rights of his Catholic countrymen, should soar far aloft above the great and brilliant Irishmen who m that day of our evanescent splendour surrounded hkn? Was it any wonder that he was the magician who first succeeced in evoking the soul of Ireland from her long slum- ber? or that Henry Grattan was then, as he is now, acknowledged to be the true guiding spirit and hero of the Irish Kevolution of 1782? At the close of the American war the might of England for a time seemed paralyzed. She was unable to supply Ireland with troops to defend her shores. Tlie Irish resolved to trust for security in their own right arms.* Up sprang, as if by magic, the host of Irish volunteers. Catholics at first were only admitted to their ranks by connivance. Subsequently, as liberal feelings expanded and true patriotism began to wax stronger, no obstacles were thrown in the way of their enrollment. The ranks of the patriot army swelled till it became more than 75,000 strong. The English and the English Government, and their coiTupt minions in Ireland, looked on in abject and helpless dismay. The "powers that be" were even obliged to have recourse to hyi30crisy (an easy task with English rulers), and fawn on and compliment the patriot army. They saw that all Ireland willed to be free; that the Catholics, though deprived of all share in the government of their country, still longed for its independence ; andthatthe Protest- ants were l3eginning to see that, however they might be tyrants over the oppressed Catholics, they were not permitted to be the masters of Ireland, but merely a degraded garrison holding their own country for the benefit of England. * Even in 177.i the Irish Commons had sufficient spirit and patriotism to refuse, by a vote of 106 agamst ()8, to allow 4,00l» Hessian soldiers to be introduced into the garrisons of Ireland. This, in fact, was the first patriotic step towards the Bevolution of 1782. THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 85 "Your ancestors," says the brilliant and eloquent Curran, in one of his speeches in the Irish Parliament, "thought themselves the oppressors of their fellow-subjects, but they were only their jailers; and the justice of Provi- dence would have been frustrated if their own slavery had not been the punishment of their vice and of their folly." It -was in 1778 that the Volunteer movement began. Early in 1780 free trade was wrung from the English Government and Legislature. Lord North w^as once more compelled to yield_ to a people against hjp will. Free trade, in the sense of the men of '82, simply meant the freedom of Irish trade from all con- trol on the part of England. In the coui'se of this struggle for free trade, no orator distmguished himself more on the patriot side than the celebrated Hussey Burgh. On the 29th of November, 1779, he said: "The usurped authority of a foreign Parliament has kept up the most wicked laws that a jealous, monopolizmg, ungrateful spirit could devise to restrain the boimty of Providence, and enslave a nation whose inliabitants are recorded to be a brave, loyal, and generous jieople. By the English code of laws, to answer the most sordid views, they have been treated with a savage cruelty. The words penalty, punishment, and Ireland, are sjaionymous. They are marked in blood on the margin of their statutes; and, though time may have softened the calamities of the nation, the baneful and destructive influences of those laws have borne her down to a state of Egyptian bondage. The English have sown their laws like serpents' teeth, and they have sprung up in armed men." On the 19th of April, 1780, Grattan moved his famous declaration of right. The scenes in Dublin on that day were magnificent. The streets around the Senate-House were thronged with the disciplined ranks of the Volunteers in varied uniforms — orange; scarlet, and green — with different facings. The dark mass of eager civilians contrasted with the brilliant patriot soldiery. Gorgeous banners, with watchwords and devices, significant of freedom, worked in gold or silver on their their folds of blue or green or white, floated proudly overhead. But inside the House of C'onimons the scene was perhaps more interesting and impressive, and not less brilliant, for in richest attire the loveliest ladies of the- land sat there to reward the patriot orators with their brilliant smiles. The ablest men of Ireland were present, too — some ui the uniforms of Volunteer officers. But above and beyond all. the immortal Grattan stood there to plead Ireland's cause against England with tongue of fire. "Sir," he began. "I have entreated an attendance on this day that you might in the most j^ublic manner deny the claim of the British Parliament to make law for Ireland, and with one voice lift up your hands against it. * * * England now smarts under the lesson of the American war ; the dogtrine of Imperial legislation she feels to be pernicious. *"* * Her enemies are a host, pouring upon her from all quarters of the earth ; her armies. are dispersed; the sea is not hers; she has no minister, no ally, no admiral, none in whom she long confides, and no general whom she has not dis- graced. The balance of her fate is ui the hands of Ireland. * * * Besides, there does of late a certain damp and spurious supineness overcast her arms and counsels, miraculous as that vigour which has lately inspirited yours, for with you everything is the reverse. Never was there a Parliament m Ireland so possessed of the confidence of the people. You are the greatest political assembly now sitting in the world : you are at the head of an immense army. Nor do we only possess an unconquerable force, but a certain unquenchable public fire, which has touched all ranks of men like a visitation. * * * Let corruption tremble; let the enemy, foreign or do- mestic, tremble; but let the friends of liberty rejoice at these means of safety and this hour of redemption. Yes, there does exist an enlightened sense of right, a young appetite for freedom, a solid strength and a rapid fire, which not only put a declaration of right within your power, but put it out of your power to dechne one. Eighteen counties are at your bar. They stand there with the compact of Henry, with the charter of John, and with all the passions of the people. ' Our fives are at your service, but our liberties— we received them froni God; Ave will not resign them to man.' * * * You have done too much not to do more; you have gone too far not to go on; you have brought yourselves into 86 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. that situation in which you must silently abdicate the rights of your country or publicly restore them. *" * * Sir, we may hope to dazzle with illumination, and we may sicken with addresses, but the public imagination will never rest, nor will her heart be well at ease — ^never! So long as the Parliament of England exercises or claims a legislation over this country, so long as this shall be the case, that very free trade, otherwise a perpetual attachment, will be the cause of new dis- content; it will create a pride to feel the indignity of bondage ; it will furnish a strength to bite your chain, and the liberty withheld will poison the good commmiicated. " The British minister mistakes the Irish character : had he intended to make Ireland a slave, he should have kept her a beggar. There is no middle policy; win her heart by the restoration of her right, or cut off the nation's right hand; greatly emancipate or fundamentally destroy. We may talk plausibly to England, but so long as she exercises a power to bind this country, so long are the nations in a state of war. The claims of the one go against the liberty of the other, and the sentiments of the latter go to oppose those claims to the last drop of her blood." After arguing the cause of Ireland at length and with great power, the orator concliides his wondrous speech with this magnificent peroration: "i'o not suffer the arrogance of England to imagine a surviving hope in the fears of Ireland; do not send the people to their own resolves .for liberty, passing by the tri- bunals of justice and the liigh court of Parliament; neither imagine that by any fomiation of apology you can palliate such a commission to your hearts, still less to your children, who wUl stiug you with their curses in your grav-e for having interposed between them and their Maker, robbing them of an im- mense occasion, and losing an opportunity which you did not create and can never restore. " Hereafter, when these things shall be history, your age of thraldom and poverty, your sudden resurrection, conanercial redress and miraculous armament, shall the historian stop at liberty, and observe that here the principal men among us fell into mimic trances of gratitude — they were awed by a weak ministry and bribed by an empty treasury; and when liberty was within their grasp, and the temple opened her folding-doors, and the arms of the people clanged, and the zeal of the nation urged and encouraged them on. that they fell down and were prostituted at the threshold? " I might as a constituent come ta your bar and demand my liberty. I do call upon you, by the laws of the land and their violation, by the instruction of eighteen counties, by the arms, inspira- tion, and providence of the present moment, tell us the rule by which we shair go — assert the law of Ireland — declare the liberty of the land. " I will not be ansAvered by a public lie in the shape of an ainendment, neither, speaking for the subject's freedom, am I to hear of faction. I wish for nothing- but to breathe in this our island, in com- mon with my fellow-subjects, the air of liberty. I have no ambition, iinless it be the ambition to break your ch;un and contemplate your glory. I never will be satisfied so long as the meanest cottager in Ireland has a link of the I>ritJsh chain clanking to his rags ; he may be naked, he shall not be in iron ; and I do sec the time is at hand, the spirit is gone forth, the declaration is planted, and though great men should a,postatize, yet the cause wiU hve ; and though the public speaker should die, yet the immortal fire shall outlast the organ which conveyed it, and the breath of liberty, like the word of the holy man, v/iU not die with the prophet, but survive him. " I shall move you ' That the King's most excellent Majesty and the Lords and Commons of Ii-eland are the only power competent to make laws to bind Ireland.' " Although the Declaration of Eight was not on this occasion pressed to a division, yet vii'tually its object was achieved. The eloquence of Gratian fu"ed the Volunteers and people with redoubled enthusiasm in the cause of Irish iudependcnce ; and even the govern- ment and their creatures were forced to admit that the newly-born national spirit of Ireland was both strong and deeply rooted. The day after the debate the viceroy. Lord Buckinghamshire, wrote a letter to Lord Hillsborough in which the following v.'ords occur: — •' It is with the utmost concern I must acquaint your lordship tiiat, although so many gentle- THE LIFE OF DANIEL OCONNELL. 87 men ex]5ressed their concern that the subject had been introduced, the sense of the House against the obh'gation of any statutes of the Parliament of Great -Britain within this kingdom is represented to me to have been almost unanimous." The English were at last beginning to fear lest the Irish should follow the example of the American colonists and seek sepa- ration : they knew that in the course of the war considerable sympathy had grown up between Ireland and America. The first general Congress of the colonies had even directed one of their addresses from Philadelphia, in the year 1774, to the " People of Ireland: We are desu-ous of the good opinion of the virtuous and humane; we are peculiarly desirous of furnishing you with the true state of our motives and objects, the better to enable you to judge of our conduct with accu- racy, and determine the merits of the controversy with impartiality and pre- cision. Yoxu' Parliament had done us no wi'ong ; you had ever been friendly to the rights of mankind, and we acknow- ledge with pleasure and gratitude that your nation has produced patriots who have nobly distinguished themselves in the cause of humanity and America." All this alarmed the English interest the more when the Volunteers and the people began to shew such a determined spii'it of patriotism in 17SU. Indeed, long before this ''the Castle" had been ren- dered imeasy, if not terrified, by the menacing demeanour and hints of the Yolimteers. So early as the 4th of November, 1779, the anniversary of the bii'th of William III., the Volunteers had assembled round his statue in CoUege Green. The city of Dublin Volunteer Artillery, commanded by the well-known James Napper Tandy, had labels with the inscription "Free Trade or Speedy iievolution" hung round the necks of their cannon. Ihe Duke of Leinster was there in command of the Volunteers of Dublin and its neighboui'hood. Other political inscriptions decorated the sides of the pedestal, on which stood the statue of the so-called "• Deliverer." On one side of the pdlar was inscribed "Relief to Ireland;" on another, "A Short iVIoney-bill, a Free Trade, or else ;" on a third, "The Vokmteers — quinqua(jintu millia juncti, parati pro patria mori" ("fifty thousand united, prepared to die for country"); and in front of the statue were two cannons, each having this inscription : " Free Trade, or This." The people, excited to the highest pitch of enthusiasm, surrounded the Volunteers, and the roar of their acclamations rivalled the thunder of the artillery. In the middle of the year 1780 the hitherto independent troops and com- panies of the Irish Vokmteers were linked together in a closer organization than mere sympathy and a common object could give them. They became a consolidated amiy with unity of com- mand. James Caulfield, Earl of Charle- mont. an amiable, cultured, and patriotic, but at the same time rather vacillating nobleman, was appointed commander-in- chief of all the patriot forces. It was unfortunate that this excellent and hon- ourable gentleman entertained narrow prejudices towards his Catholic country- men. However, for the present, all went well ; the earl was not merely a dignified chief, but even a very active militaiy organizer. He held some imposing pro- vincial reviews, and his arrival at Pelfast on the 11th of July to review the Ulster regiments, with Grattan and Sir Annesley Stewart as his aids, was announced by a salute of seven guns from the artillery, which was replied to by the ships in the harbovu:. A splendid review followed. It was on the memorable loth of February, 1782, that the Dungannon Convention took place. The church was thronged " to the door" with the armed delegates of the patriot army, two hun- dred in number. The scene was morally sublime. Never did men feel tlieir responsibilities more, or better fulfil their duties, than these soldier-delegates. The chair was taken by Colonel Irwin, a man of high rank, brave, and resolute, but also cautious. Kcsolutions of the most determined and spirited nature were passed. Of these I give the following : — " Whereas, It has been ascertained that volunteers, as such, cannot with propriety debate or publish their opinions on poli- tical subjects or on the conduct of Parliament or political men; "A'cA'o/rcr/ (unanimously). That a citizen by learning the use of arms does not abandon any of his civil rights. '■^Resolved (unanimously). That a claim of any body of men, other than the King, Lords, and Commons of Ireland, to make laws to bind this kingdom is unconstitu- tional, illegal, and a grievance. 88 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. ^'■Resolved (with one dissenting voice only), That the powers exercised by the privy councils of both kingdoms, under or under colour or pretence of the law of Poynings, are unconstitutional and a grievance. " Resolved (unanimously), That the ports of this country are by right open to all foreign countries not at war with the king, and that any burden thereupon or obstruction thereto, save only by the Parliament of Ireland, is unconstitutional, illegal, and a grievance. '■'■ Resolrcd (with one dissenting voice only), That a mutiny bill not limited in point of duration from session to session is unconstitutional and a grievance. " Resolved (unanimously). That the independence of judges is equally essen- tial to the impartial administration of justice in Ireland as in England, and that the refusal or delay of this right to Ireland makes a distinction where there should be no distinction, may excite jealousy where perfect union should pre- vail, and is in itself unconstitutional and a grievance. •^ Resolved (with eleven dissenting voices only), That it is our decided and unalter- able determination to seek a redress of these grievances ; and we pledge ourselves to each other and to our country, as freeholders, fellow-citizens, and men of honour, that we will at every ensuing election sixpport those only who have supported and will support us therein, and that we will use all constitutional means to make such our pursuit of redress speedy and effectual. * * * " Resolved (with two dissenting voices to this and the following resolu- tion). That we hold the right of private judgment in matters of religion to be equally sacred in others as ourselves. " Resolved, therefore, That as men and as Irishmen, as Christians and as Pro- testants, we rejoice in the relaxation of the penal laws against our Roman Catholic fellow-subjects, and that we conceive the measure to be fraught with the happiest consequences to the union and prosperity of the inhabitants of Ireland." Such were the principal resolutions of the Dungannon Convention. There were others which 1 do not deem it necessary to give in a mere sketch of the events of '82. Indeed, most of the others either had reference to some judicious arrange- ment for administering the affairs of the Volunteers till the next general meeting, or were mere formal votes of thanks. There was one other somewhat import- ant resolution, however, in wlijch the members of the Convention unanimously pledged themselves not to consume any wines of Portugal, and to prevent the use of said wines, " save and except the wines at present in this kingdom, until such time as our exports shall be received in the kingdom of Portugal as the manu- factures of part of the British empire." The Convention terminated by the adoption of an address to the Patriot minorities in the Lords and Commons, concise and nervous to a degree seldom found in documents of a similar class : "My Lords and Gentlemen, — We thank you for your noble and spirited, though hitherto ineffectual efforts in defence of the great constitutional and commercial rights of your country. Go on ! The almost unanimous voice of the people is with you, and in a free country the voice of the people must prevail. We know our duty to our sovereign, and are loyal. We know our duty to ourselves, and are resolved to be free. We seek for our rights, and no more than our rights ; and in so just a pursuit we should doubt the being of a Pro- vidence if we doubted of success. '• (Signed by order), •' WiLLL\M Irvine, Chairman.'' Universal Ireland endorsed the resolu- tions of the Dungannon Convention. The four provinces were unanimous. The various races composing the Irish nation wei-e unanimous. The various religious sects were unanimous. I may here observe that it will be seen from the proceedings of all concerned, that the movement of '82 was national, rather than democratic or social. But the crisis was now approaching fast. Lord North and his cabinet most deservedly fell from power soon after the Dungannon Convention. After some delay, all sections of the ^^'higs were united. The Marquis of Rockingham be- came prime minister; Lord Shelbourne and the celebrated Charles James Fox were the new Secretaries of State; the illustrious Irishman, Edmund Burke, Avas made pay- master of the forces; and the Duke of Portland was appointed Lord-lieutenant of Ireland, with Colonel Fitzjjatrick, a scion of a noble Irish house, as chief secretary. And now it became the great effort THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 89 of the crafty though not ungenerous English secretary, i^ox, to gain time, to try and cajole the Irish patriot leaders to relax their efforts. G rattan ■was breaking down in health, after the incessant exertions of three years. If Fox could gain over Charlemont and some of the others to agree to delay, he might find some opportunity of baffling and finally defeating the great hopes of Ireland. He -writes a honeyed, flattering letter of graceful complunents to " his old and esteemed friend, Lord Charle- mont." The earl and others are seduced by Fox's graceful blandishments; but Grattan was not to be deluded from his ouward Com-se by Belial huuself. On his sick bed his glowing spirit still kept him firm of piu-pose. Vehemently he cries to Charlemont, " ISTo time ! No time ! " Charlemont is fired once more with patriotic ardour. At the dictation of Grattan he writes to the English mmister " that they (the Irish leaders) could not delay; that they were pledged to the people; that they could not postpone the question, for that it was public pro- perty.'''' Edmund Burke some time before had said, " Will nobody stop that mad- man, Grattan?" But, in truth, on this occasion Henry Grattan was " the saviour of his country." The English ministry at last yielded with a suiticicntly good grace. The De- claratory Act of George I. was repealed. In Ireland, on the 16th of April. 1782— the most glorious day in Ireland's history • — Grattan, in spite of sickness and suffer- ing, was at his post, to the sur^jrise of every one. There and then, emaciated and careworn as his slender frame appeared, his noble, spu-it shone brighter than ever. An English critic says that his speech on this great day was distinguished " for its fire, sublimity, and immense reach of thought." Charlemont used often to say, •• If ever spirit could be said to act independent of body, it was on that occasion." All were electrified and lost in admii'ation. Grattan stated Ireland's grounds of complaint — the Declaratory Statute of George I., the Perpetual Mutiny Bill, and the unconstitutional powers of tlie Privy Council. Thus his " restless eloquence " began: — ■ ' ■ I am now to address a free people. Ages have passed away, and this is the fiist moment in which you could be dis- tinguished by that appellation. " I have spoken on the subject of your liberty so often, that I have nothing to add, and have only to admire by what Heaven - directed steps you have pi-o- ceeded until the whole' faculty of the nation is braced up to the act of her own deliverance. "I found Ireland on her knees; I watched over her with a paternal solici- tude; I have traced her progress from injuries to arms, and from arms to liberty. Spirit of Swift! spirit of Moly- neux! your genius has prevailed! Ireland is now a nation! In that new character I hail her, and bowing to her august presence, I say, Esto pcrjKtua I " She is no longer a wretched colony, returning thanks to her governor for his rapine, and to her king for his oppression. Nor is she now a squabbling, fretful sectary, perplexing her little wits and firing her furious statutes Avith bigotry, sophistry, disabilities, and death, to ti-ansmit to pos- terity insignificance and war. " Look to the rest of Europe, and contemplate yourself, and be satisfied. Holland lives on the memory of past achievements; Sweden has lost liberty; England has sullied her great name by an attempt to enslave her colonies." The whole speech was worthy of the orator. Shortly after, £100,000 were voted by Parliament to Grattan. He accepted only £50,000. I said that Fox jaelded Avith a reason- ably good grace. He would rather see Ireland wholly separated from the crown of England tlian kept in subjection by force. "Unwilling subjects," said he, " are little better than enemies." Ireland triumphed completely at that time. While the Declaratory Act of the Cth of George I. was repealed in the English House, Poyning's laws were swept away in the Irish. The lost Appellate Jurisdiction was restored to the Irish House of Lords. The Perpetual Mutiny Bill was repealed. Later, when Flood questioned the sufficiency of " sun pie repeal " to secure the independence of the Irish Parliament, an express ' ■ renunciatory Act " was passed by the English legislature. The Irish people also got a '• Ifuhias toryjM.vAct" similar to that possessed by the English. In short, Ireland was now beyond all dispute, technically at least, an independent nation. .She had no longer to submit to the humiliation of sending over the heads of all her " bills " 90 THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. to England before passing them. Her prosperity grew apace during the years of her independent existence, in spite of the corrupt and defective constitution of her Parhament. The Bank of Ireland and other banks were established, manu- factures increased, commerce flourished. In short, Ireland in eighteen years attamed a state of well-being hardly paralleled " in the annals of any other nation in so short aperiod." If, indeed, she had then thoroughly reformed her H-ouse of Commons, sweeping away those rotten boroughs that returned such a large pro- portion of her representatives, making the legislature necessarily corrupt, and if she had also put an end to all the disabilities affecting the Catholic body, thereby basing the constitution on the might and affection of the entire nation, the English could never have destroyed the independence of the Irish legislature by the accursed "Act of Union." But it was not to be. The corrupt legislators, though capable of being aroused for a moment, so to speak, to a generous exaltation of public virtue by the commanding spell of Grat- tan's genius, soon relapsed into their old diseased and debased habits of sordid self-seeking. Their ephemeral patriotism haviiig once vanished, they stood by the old rotten electoral system, and would no more reform the House of Commons than reform themselves. And it was vain for the Catholics to expect aught but refusal to their prayers for any really generous or comprehensive measure of justice from a representative body so constituted and so lost to public spirit. The unfortunate quarrel between Flood and Grattan, that, having its jirimary source in their differ- ence of opinion on the question of " simple repeal," on a subsequent occasion broke out in the most virulent and imseemly exhibition of personal animosity and the fiercest invectives against each other — this unlucky quarrel of the two greatest men of Ireland destroyed the last and only chance of securing parliamentary reform in those days, and as a conse- quence put an end to any immediate hopes of Catholic emancipation. Thq enemies of Ireland were quickly able once more to rally their broken strength and resources, and soon the legislative independence of Ireland was doomed. Things had come to such a pass that the union was only a question of time. When, on the lUth of November, 1783, the reform convention of one hundred and sixty delegates of the volunteers of Ireland met at the Royal Exchange Dublin, amid the acclamations and sanguine expectancy of the people, all would have ended well if Grattan and Flood had worked to- gether; but Grattan stood aloof. Then Flood and Charlemont wese intolerant; they wished to give the monopoly of constitutional rights to the half -million of Protestants in Ireland, who were still to hold in subjection the two millions of Catholics — or, in other words, the old Irish race. Such an idea of Irish nation- ality wanted the germs of success. The government were able to resist this con- vention successfully ; they even ventured at last to speak slightingly, or even with downright censure, of the volunteers; stUl, \men Yelverton, the attorney- general, denounced the idea of their dictating the adoption of their reform bill to the Parliament, Flood defended them -with vigorous eloquence. " I have not introduced the volunteers ; but if they are aspersed, I will defend their character against all the woi'ld. By whom were the commerce and the constitution of this country recovered? By the volunteers. " Why did not the right honourable gentleman make a declaration against them when they lined om- streets — when Parliament passed through the ranks of those virtvious armed men to demand the rights of an insulted nation'? Are they different men at this day, or is tiie right honourable gentleman different? He was then one of their body — he is now their accuser! He who saw the streets lined — v/ho rejoiced — who par- took in their glory, is now their accuser! Are they less wise, less brave, less ardenc in their country's cause, or has their admirable conduct made him their enemy? May they not say, We have not changed, but you have changed ? The right honour- able gentleman cannot bear to hear of the volunteers; but I will ask him, and I will have a starling taught to hollo m his EARS, Who gave you free trade? Who got you the free constitution? Who made you a nation ? The volunteers ! " If they were the men you now describe them, why did you accept of their service, why did you not then accuse them? If they were so dangerous, Avhy did you pass through their ranks, witii your Speaker at your head, to demand a THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 91 constitution? Why did you not then fear tlie ills you now apprehend? " " But, in spite of this bold and energetic defence of the volunteers, Flood's reform bill was thrown out; rather, he was re- fused leave to bring it in. Grattan, indeed, supported the motion, but appar- ently in a half-hearted maimer, alike un- worthy of his manly truth and lofty genius. "And yet," as Mr. Mitchel justly observes, "reform was the only security for his own vrork; it would have rendered the constitution immor- tal, and erected an enduring memorial of his glory." After the defeat of Flood's motion, Yelverton thought fit to move, "That it has now become in- dispensably necessary to declare that the House will maintain its just rights and privileges against all encroachments what- .soever." Ihis was a challenge to the convention and the volunteers. Did they mtet it boldly? Tliey did not! In this brief sketch it is unnecessary to describe in detail the collapse of the convention, and, I may add, of the volunteer movement itseK. Intrigues of false or faint-hearted dele- gates began to undermine the stability of the convention; cowa/'dly counsels prevailed. Grattan, if not their opponent (he had voted in favour of the resolution to support Parhament), was at all events not acting with them. Lord Charlemont was vacillating, timid, narrow and in- tolerant of Cathohcs; above all, he feared measures having a tendency to democratic revolutions. Flood probably saw the game was lost. Be that as it may, Charlemont was, after a few more feeble meetings of the convention, suf- fered to repair one morning, at an earlier hour than usual, to the Kotunda, and declare the convention dissolved. " From this time," say Dr. Madden, " the power of the volunteers was broken." indig- nation, doubt, suspicion, and alarm were now ever^/where in their ranks. But it is imnecssary to follow the steps of their subsequent melancholy decline ; suffice it to say, they dragged out a feeble, linger- ing existence for a few years longer; quite insignificant as they dwindled away gradually — no longer objects of terror to the weakest. For a while the strange earl-bishop of Derry, to whom I made allusion in a former chapter, became the idol of the more fiery spirits. Volunteers used to escort him in his progresses ; but his guidance or leadership proved of no avail to restore their drooping vigour. On one occasion he finely said, " Tyranny is not government, and allegiance is due only to protection." At last a day comes — and that not a very remote one from the palmy days of their great success— when this once-powerful host of freedom is heard of no more among the things that exist. Some of the bravest spirits began to dream of more perilous roads to freedom. It is melancholy to be obliged to admit here that our two greatest men of that age, while they deserve and will enjoy immortal glory for the share they each had in securing what of success and honour Ireland de- rived from the movement of '82, are both at the same time more or less to blame, both for the shortcomings of that most promising revolution and for the final discomfiture and dissolution of the gallant, and faithful, and patriotic army of the Irish Volunteers. WTiile the Irish revolutionists of '82 in general, and the Parliament they appealed to, wanted the breadth of mind and boldness of view to carry through that great and just measure. Catholic emancipation, in its totality, I should be imjust to the Irish legislatures of the end of the last century if I forgot to give them credit for the few slight relaxations of the penal laws which they passed in those years, and which, how- ever they might come short of the claims of justice and true wisdom, were nevertheless by no means unwelcome to the Catholics. In 1778, on the 25th of May — eleven days after a general assent had been given in the English House of Commons to Sir George Saville's motion in favour of the Catholics of England — Mr. Gar- diner moved, in the Irish House, that leave be given to bring in heads of a bill for the relief of the Catholics of Irelend. The motion was carried. However, tlie bUl did not finally become law without encountering considerable opposition. The bill was a paltry measure, and in all probability would never have been assented to by the Crown were it not that France had recently recognized America as an independent state. On taking the oath of allegiance. Catholics were allowed to obtam or assign a lease for 999 years; Popish priests, Jesuits and schoolmasters were publicly tolerated ; 92 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. children conforming to the Established religion could no longer claim by law right of succession or maintenance to the prejudice of parental right. The Catholics -were not bribed away from the cause of their c^bnntry by these paltry, peddling, pitiful measures of relief. All through the volunteer movement they were true to Ireland. jMany of them, in spite of penal laws, were thoughtful and highly educated men. These felt thoroughly that if Ireland should become realhj independent, it would be impossible for the Irish legislature to deny them complete emancipation for any long period. Like Grattan, they saw that if Ireland should still try " to stand upon her smaller end," she would not long be able to stand against her old enemy and oppressor. The Catholics of Limerick, denied the use of arms, subscribed £800 to the treasury of the volunteers. How Tuifortunate it was at this crisis that so many of the bigoted or insolent Croni- wellian and Williamite squires and their narroAV - minded, deluded followers still imagined that theycouldhold the Catholics in a degraded condition of subserviency, and at the same time keep Ireland inde- pendent of England. Towards the end of 1781, Mr. Luke Gardiner (afterwards Lord Mount joy) made another attempt to procure some instalment of justice to the (^'atholics. This gentleman had lived a good deal on the continent of Europe. When he contrasted his own country with foreign lands, he confessed with shame that she was the most intolerant country, Pro- testant or Catholic, in the world. When Mr. Gardiner introduced the subject of further relief to the Catholics to the House in December, 1781, Grattan at once gave a generous support in advance to some large measure which should in- clude Catholics and dissenters. He said that " it should be the business of Parliament to unite every denomination of Irishmen in brotherly affection and regard to tlie constitution." This novel language, the like of Avhich probably had not been heard in an Irish legislature since the fall of Limerick, startled the Cromwellians and other bigots of the Ascendency. Sir IJichard Johnson nerv- ously protested "that he would oppose any bill by which Papists were permitted to bear arms." In this debate Grattan vittered the following wise and weighty remarks : — "It had been well observed by a gentleman of first-rate understanding (a member of the British Parliament) that Ireland could never prosper till its inhabi- tants were a people ; and, though the assertion might seem strange that three millions of inhabitants in that island should not be called a people, yet the truth was so. and so would continue till the wisdom of Parliament should unite them by all the bonds of social affection. Meanwhile, Gardiner's bill was postponed from week to week, and was still pending when the Dungannon Convention took place. But on the 15th of February, 1782, Mr. Gardiner formally introduced this Catholic relief bill into the House of Commons. Of course the envenomed Fitzgibbon, afterwards Earl of C'lare, and Ijetrayer of his country's independ- ence, did his best to defeat it. Finally, indeed, when he saw it was likely to pass, he made merit of supporting it. Of course Grattan was one of its most eager champions. It proposed to give Catholics —first, the enjoyment of property ; second, the free exercise of their religion ; third, the rights of education ; fourth, of mar- riage ; and fifth, of carrying arms. Flood, while he supported the bill, tried to draw a distinction between the rights of pro- perty and the rights of power. He seemed to object that if the bill passed there would be no restraint on Catholics. Gardiner replied. — " Bvit was it not a restraint upon a man that he could hold no trust nor office in the State ? That he could not be a member of Parliament, a justice, or a grand-juror? That he could not serve in the army of his country, liave a place in the revenue, be an advocate or attorney, or even become a freeman of the smallest corporation? If gentlemen laboured imder these incapacities them- selves, would they think them no restraint?" Some members were enlightened enough to declare themselves in favour of wiping away the entire penal code at once, and maintained that such an act of justice to the Catholic body would be a benefit to the whole nation. Such were Sir Ijucius O'Brien, ]\Ir. Forbes, Hussey Burgh, Yelverton, Mr. Dillon, Captain Hall, and Mr. Mossom. Fitzgibbon, Mason, Bushe, and others resisted the clause which per- mitted Catholics to go abroad for educa- tion. Grattan fought for the whole bill. "When this country," said he, "had THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. OS- resolved no longer to crouch beneath the burden of oppression that EngLand had laid upon her, when &he armed in defence of her rights, and a high-spirited people demanded a free trade, did the Roman Catholics desert their fellow-countrymen? jS^o ; they were found among the foremost. When it was aftenvards thought necessary to assert a free constitution, the Roman Catholics displayed their public virtue. They did not endeavour to take advan- tage of your situation, they did not endeavour to make terms for themselves ; but they entered frankly and heartily into the cause of the country, judging by their own virtue that they might depend upon your generosity for their reward. * * * The question is now, whether we shall grant Roman Catholics a power of enjoying estates, or whether Ave shall be a Protestant settlement or an Irish nation? Whether we shall throw open the gates of the temple of liberty to all our countrjanen, or whether we shall confine them in bondage by penal laws ? So long as the penal code remains, we never can be a great nation. The penal code is the shell in which the Pro- testant power has been hatched ; and now it is become a bird, it must burst the shell asunder or perish in it. * * * I give my consent to it (the clause under debate), because I would not keep two millions of my fellow-subjects in a state of slavery, and because, as the mover of the declara- tion of rights, I should be ashamed of giving freedom to but six hundred thousand of my countrjnnen, when I could extend it to two millions more." This was Mr. Grattan's first enunciation of the grand and true idea of a broad and comprehensive Irish nationality. Mr. Gardiner's relief measures were contained in three separate bills. In order not to startle the Protestant Ascen- dency too much, they were very moderate. The first gave Catholics the power of taking and liolding, just like Protestants, any lands and hereditaments except ad- vowsons, manors, and boroughs returning members to Parliament. It removed various penalties from such of the regis- tered clergy as had taken the oath. lu order to prevent the succession of other regular clergy from abroad, its opera- tion was confined to the regular clergy then within the kingdom. Any Catholic clergyman officiating in a church or chapel with a steeple or bell, forfeited the benefit of the Act. Finally, it repealed several of the most obnoxious parts of the statutes of Anne and George I. and George II. The second bill was " An Act to allow persons professing the Popish religion to. teach schools, and for regulating the Edu- cation of Papists," &c. It repealed por- tions of the Acts of William III. and Anne inflicting on any Catholic teaching school or privately instructing youth the same pains, penalties, and forfeitures that any Popish regular clergyman was liable to — ■ viz., transportation, and, in case of return, death. Those, however, who should not have taken the oath of allegiance, who should presinne to receive a Protestant pupil, or who should become ushers or assistants under Pi'otestagit schoolmasters, were excepted from its benefits. This Act also enabled Catholics, except ecclesiastics, to be guardians to their own or any other Popish child. These two bills passed, and received the royal assent. The third bill was thrown out by a majority of eight. It had been designed to enable Protestants to intermarry with Catholics. The illustrious Edmimd Burke, in a letter to a noble lord, thus expresses his large-souled scorn of the smallness of these pitiful instalments of justice to the much-injured, much-enduring Catholic body : " To look at the bill in the abstract, it is neither more nor less than a renewed act of universal, unmitigated, indispens- able, exceptionless disqualification. One would imagine that a bill inflicting such a muHiJtude of incapacities had followed on the heels of a conquest made by a very fierce enemy under the impression of recent animosity and resentment. No man on reading that bill could imagine that he was reading an act of amnesty and indulgence. This I say on memory. It recites the oath, and that Catholics ought to be considered as good and loyal subjects to Ilis Majesty, his crown, and. government. Then follows a universal exclusion of those good and loyal sub- jects from every — even the lowest — office of trust and profit, or from any vote at an election ; from any privilege ia a town corporate ; from being even a free-- man in such corporations ; from servmg on grand-juries; from a vote at a vestry; from having a gim in Lis house; from being a barrister, attorney, solicitor, or &c., &c. "This has sm'ely more the air of a, 94 THE LIFE OF DANIEL o'CONNELL. table of proscriptions than an act of grace. What must we suppose the laws concern- ing those good subjects to have been, of which this is a relaxation? "Vllien a very ^eat portion of the labour of individuals goes to the state, and is by the state again refunded to individuals through the medium of offices, and in this circuitous progress from the public to the private fund indemnifies the families from whom it is taken, an equitable balance between the government and tlie subject is estab- lished. But if a great body of the people who contribute to this state lottery are excluded from all the prizes, the stopping the circulation with regard to them must be a most cruel hardship, amounting in effect to being double and treble taxed, and will be felt as such to the very quick by all the families, high and low, of those hundreds of thousands who are denied their chance in the returned fruits of their own industry. This is the thing meant by those wlio look on the public revenue only as a spoil, and will naturally wish to have as few as possible concerned in the division of the booty. If a state should be so unhappy as to think it cannot subsist without such a barbarous proscription, the persons so proscribed ought to be indemnified by the remission of a large part of their taxes, by an immunity from the offices of public burden, and by an exemption from being pressed mto any militarj^ or naval service. Wliy are Catholics excluded from the law? Do not they expend money in their suits? "Wliy may not they indem- nify themselves by profiting in the persons of some for the losses incurred by others? Why may they not have persons of confi- dence whom they may if they please employ in the agency of their affairs ? The exclu- sion from the law, from grand-juries, from sheriffships, under-sheriffships, as well as freedom m any corporation, may subject them to dreadful hardships, as it may exclude them wholly from all that is beneficial, and expose them to all that is mischievous in a trial by jury." Such was the very small length to which the toleration and liberality of that age was prepared to go. The Burkes, and Grattans, -and Hussey Burghs were the exceptions to the rule. It was reserved for glorious •and sympathetic France, a few years later, to give the grand example of absolute equality, in the eye of the law, to people professing all forms of rehgious worship. This narrowness of even the patriot party on questions of religious liberty was illustrated in a, stronger and more fatal manner by the conduct of the'Uublin Convention in 1783. If the members of that body really meant to reform the Parliament, and to secure and consolidate the recently-gained independence of their country, they should above all things have made it one of their main objects to struggle for the emancipation of the Catholics, so that the interests, and feel- ings, and sympathies of the entire nation might be enlisted on the side of Irish independence against all possible intrigues and attempts to bring about a legislative union with Great Britain ; but they shewed worse than coldness to the Catholic cause. The very resolution by which they reaffirmed the fundamental principle of the Dungannon Convention, that the right of free discussion on political matters was not forfeited by citizens because they assumed arms and entered military organizations, was worded in a narrow, exclusive spirit, certain to prove equally pernicious to themselves and to the best mterests of their country : — " Resolved, That the Protestant inhabitants of this country are required by the statute law to carry arms and to learn the use of them," &c. Even Flood's plan of reform provided nothing in the shape of a boon for the Catholics. This miserable intoler- ance on the part of so large a proportion of the Protestant patriots of tlie time very naturally had the fatal effect of causing many of the Catholic body, thus insulted and rudely repelled by their dominant countrymen, to become gradu- ally reconciled with the rumous notion of union with England. They were led to imagine that emancipation would be more easily conceded to them by the English legislature than by their own. A foolish and fatal idea ! for, in spite of all its bigotry, the Irish Parliament was slowly but surely knocking off link after link of their fetters, and would assuredly, had it remained in existence, have been obliged to emancipate them completely long before 18:J9. Unluckily, the folly and meanness of some of the Catholic body played into the hands of the bigots of the convention. The friends of the Catholics in the con- vention must, indeed, have felt embar- rassed, if not discomfited, when, a few days after the assembly of that body, Sic THE LIFE OF DANIEL O'CONNELL. 95 Boyle Roche, renowned for his amazing Irish bulls, a few specimens of which make some of the pages of Barrington's personal sketches so amusing, appeared on the floor, and got leave, though not a member of the convention, to make a state- ment on the part of the Earl of Kcnmare, a Catholic nololeman : — ' • That noble lord," said Sir Boyle, "ancZ others of his creed, disavowed any wish of ''~mg concerned in the busmess of electi is; and, fully sensible of the favours air^jdy bestowed upon them by Parliament, felt but one desire, to enjoy them in peace, without seeking in the present distracted state of affairs to raise jealousies, and further embarrass the nation by asking for more." Fortunately for the Catholics and the honour oi human nature, other members of the persecuted body were very differ- ent in temper and cast of mind from the coroneted slave of Kenmare. His abject declaration (which in justice, I should observe, is called by the historian I'lowden "a pretended letter of Lord Kenmare") excited intense disgust and indignation amongst the Catholics of Dublin. Later, on the very day of Sir Boyle's strange announcement of Kenmare's lack of all manhood, that lordly demagogue or popular leader, the Earl of Bristol and Bishop of Derry, who seems to have always been a really sincere and resolute friend to the oppressed Catholics of Ire- land, rose in his place to submit to the convention "a paper of consequence, which referred to a class of men who were deserving of every privilege in common with their countrjnnen." The paper, on the earl-bishop's motion, was read. It Avas to this effect: — '• Xov. 14th, 1783 ; at a meeting of the General Committee of the Roman Catholics of Ireland, Sir Patrick Bellew, Bart., in the chair, it was unanimously Resolved, That the message relating to us, delivered this morning to the National Convention, was totally unknown to and xmauthorized by us. That we do not so widely differ from the rest of mankind as by our own act to prevent the removal of our shackles. That we shall receive with gratitude every indulgence that may be extended to us by the legislature, and are thankful to our benevolent countrymen for their generous efforts on.our behalf. Resolved, That Sir P. Bellew be requested to pre- sent the foregoing resolutions to the Earl of Bristol as the act of the Roman Catholics of Ireland, and entreat that his lordship will be pleased to commmii- cate them to the National Convention." Next year, 1784, a more liberal spirit was manifested by some of the Protestant patriots. ]\Iany of these xfcve so disgusted at the continual rejection on the part of the legislatm-e of all projects of reform, that they began to dream of revolutionary plans. A national congress was proposed. The sheriffs of Dublin called a prepaiatory meeting, Avhich took place on the 7th of July. At this meeting parliamentary corruption was denounced, and strong desires for the emancipation of the CathoHcs were expressed. The following passages are from the resolutions: — - We call upon you, therefore, and thus con- jure you, that in this important work you join with us as fellov^ - subjects, countrymen, and friends, as men embarked in the general cause to remove a general calamity; and for this we propose that five persons be elected from each county, city, and great town in tliis kingdom to meet in national congress at some con- venient place in this city, on Monday, the 25th day of October next, there to deliberate, digest, and determine on such measures as may seem to them most con- ducive to re-establish the constitution on a pure and permanent basis, and secure to the inhabitants of this kingdom peace, liberty, and safety. "And while we thus contend, as far as in us lies, for our constitutional rights and privileges, we recommend to your consideration the state of our suffoi'iug fellow-subjects, the Roman Catholics of this kingdom, whose emancipation from the restraints under which they stili labour, we consider not only as equitable, but essentially conducive to the general union and prosperity of the kingdom." Similar sentiments are expressed in then address to the king: — " We farther entreat Your ^Majesty's permission to condemn that remnant of the penal code of laws which still oppresses our Roman Catholic fellow -subjects — laws which tend to prohibit education and liberality, restrain certain privileges, and proscribe industry, love of liberty and patriotism." This liberality, melancholy to relate, shocked and frightened away the leaders of the old volunteers. The narrow-souled. Charlemont, in reply to an address of the Ulster Volunteers somewhat similar in liberality of sentiment, with respect to t)6 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. "the Catholics, and also strongly expres- sive of abhorrence of aristocratic tyranny, lamented that he found himself differing from them in opinion for the first time. He had no illiberal prejudice against the ■Catholics — ^not he. Oh no ! He had all sorts of good-will to such respectable folks ; but still he entreated the Pro- testants not to clog their efforts for securing Ireland's independence and pros- perity by any efforts for Catholic eman- cipation. This is the meaning of what he said in somewhat dift^erent and balmier, phraseology. This was a severe blow both to the Catholic cause and that of reform. Charlemont was an object of veneration. Those who resembled hunself — viz., the timid and vacilating — were swayed by his opinion. The bigots, too, hailed it 'svith joy. In the month of October the bigoted corporation of Dublin voted him their thanks for his illiberal and narrow- minded conduct. The Attorney-general proceeded, by attachment from the Court of King's Bench, against ]\Ir. Riley, the High- Sheriff of Dublin county, for presiding over an assembly of freeholders who met on the 19th of August, 1784, to choose and instruct delegates for the congress. The assembly and their resolutions, signed by jNIr. Riley, were declared illegal. Mr. Riley was sentenced to a week's imprison- ment and a fine of five merks — £3, 6s. 8d. Attachments were granted against magis- trates who called meetings and signed resolutions of freeholders in Leitrim and Roscommon. The sheriffs of the city of Dublin were intimidated. Printers and publishers of newspapers suffered too. Nevertheless, the National Congress met on the 25th of October; but it was badly attended, and finally nothing came of it. The tyrannical action of the Government caused some clamour, but there arose no opposition to it worth speaking of. The Government profited by the divisions that •sprang up m the ranks of tlie reformers on the question of admitting Catholics to exercise the right of the franchise. In the year before (1783). in the .short vice- royalty of Lord Temple, other tactics had been employed against reform. " To draw away the public mind from specu- lative questions," to borrow the words of Mr. riowden, letters patent were issued creating the order of '• The, Knights of fcjt. Patrick." Tlije knights were installed with solemn pomp on St. Patrick's day that year. 1 robably the gorgeous tom- foolery had little effect on the minds of the people beyond affording them a pass- ing amusement, somewhat livelier and more novel than that of a lord-mayor's shovi' I I have now given all the relaxations of the penal laws that took place during O'Connell's childhood. Only one more important relaxation took place between Gardiner's bill and the Act of '29. It was necessary to dwell a little on these earlier concessions, that we may the better estimate the extent of the Catholic grievances that remained unredi'essed till '29, and the consequent value of the great measure wrung from England in that year, chiefly by the abilities and energy of O'Connell. I may as well append to the sketch of the Irish " revolution of '82," as Edmund Burke called it, contained m this chapter, the first half of the first article I wrote for "The Irish People." It contains some reflections on the consequences of the manner in which this revolution was achieved, which, as I think them just, 1 wish to place before the reader. It may be as well to present them now in the same form in which I gave them in November, '63, as to endeavour to re- arrange or re-write them. I am pleased, though not greatly'' surprised, to find that Sir. Mitchel, in treating more recently of the same events, has taken views of them on the whole similar to mine. It may not be impertinent in me also to notice the fact that this article, and, if I remember rightly, this very portion of it, was, along with other writings, used against me in the indictment for "treason- felony" Avhich, after five days' trial, con- signed me to penal servitude on the 1st of December, 1865. The article is headed " '82 and '29," and begins thus: — " Since the twelfth century England has been the unsleepmg enemy of ire- land. " Generally her tjTanny has shewn itself in the form of undisguised oppres- sion. " Sometimes, however, she has affected to conciliate and make great concessions to Ireland. " Whenever this has been the case the apparent concession has invariably had the effect of extending her unjust authority. THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. 97 Kiisland's open and avowed hostility has Mcver proved so effectual a method of rivetting on Ireland the fetters of alien nxle as her occasional insidious adoption of the fatal seeming of friendship. '• There have been two very remark- able illustrations of this within the last hundred years. The first was the acknow- ledgment of the independence of the Irish Parliament in 1782 ; the second was the concession of Catholic emancipation in 1829. '•These concessions have generally been looked upon as unalloyed benefits. Yet ICC assert that, owing to the manner in which they were gained, they have really proved curses rather than blessings to our country. "In '82 Ireland was on the point of achieving a glorious revolution. Had England not conceded at once, an appeal to arms would have been made by the Irish people, whose military might and enthusiasm at that moment were well nigh irresistible ; whUe, on the other hand, the martial ardour and available resources of England had simk to a low t'bb. That, in the event of a war-struggle, Ireland would have trimnphed, no one can reasonably doubt. But victory in the 'iield would have made her achievement of independence real and complete, not an abortive sham. It would have pre- cipitated separation. * It would have glorified the Irish people. And, doing wo, it would have enabled the Catholics, with arms in their hands, to assert their light to religious libei'ty, and the icliok dio had been dowuriglit oppon- ents of that restoration. lie could'nt help saying to the king one day, — "Please, Your Majesty, I have fought in your service and got nothing. An't please you, I can perhaps plead a merit that will find more favour in your royal eyes." "I pray you, friend, what is that?" demanded the king. " "^'^Hiy, that I fought against your sacred ])ilajesty for two years in the ser^^ce of Cromwell," replied this strange courtier. " Oddfish, man! we'll look to it," rei^lied Charles, in high glee at the Irishman's whimsical way of recommending himself to royal favour; and, in short, before long the lucky colonel was provided for bj' ' ' the merry monarch." The teller of tliis story added, that more recently one who had assailed George III., and forced himself into his carriage, got a snug appointment iu Somerset House some short time after the outrage. "Forced into his carriage!" cried O'ConneU. '■'■ Et voila j.-'sfemait comme on ecrit r histoire! (And heliold hoio justly thei/ T^rite histnnj!) I was witness to the whole fransactiou, and I can state that nobody forced nito his carriage, although his Ufe was certainly iu imminent danger. It was in 1795. I was over here in London. Eichard Xewton Bennett and I went down through St. James's Park to see the king retui-ning from the House of Lords. On pre»3sing through Whitehall there was a tumultuous crowd, and some person flimg a penny at the king's car- riage and broke the glass. Tlie dragoons immediately began to clear their way with drawn sabres through the crowd, advanc- ing with great speed along the park in front of tlie king's carriage. As the pro- cession approached the place where I stood, I ];reGsed forward to get a sight of the king, and one of the dragoons made a furious cut at me with his sabre, wliich deeply notched the tree about an inch or two over my head. The mob were all this while groaning and hooting, His Majesty. However, he got clear of them, and entered St. James's Palace, where he took off his robes m a wonderfully short time. He then came out at the opposite Bide of the palace, next Cleveland E.ow, and got into a coach drawn by two large black Hanoverian horses. He was then driven off towards Bucldngham House ; and just as he was passuag the bottom of the Green Park, the mob tumidtuously rushed about his carriage, and selling the wheels retarded it in spite of the postUion, who kept flogging the horses to no purpose. Whilst His Majesty was thus detained, two fellows approached the door of the carriage ; the hand of one was on the door-handle in the act of opening it; had they dragged the king out, he Avould doubt- less have been murdered. But the king had a friend in the crowd. At this critical juncture a tall, dctei'mined-looking man presented a pistol through the opposite window at the fellows who were going to open the door. They shrank back, the mob relaxed their grasp on the wheels ■•^or one moment, the postilion flogged away, and the cai-riage Avent off at a gallop to Buckingham House. Never had a king a more narrow escape. The French Revolutionarj^ mania had tainted all minds, and men were fuU of Jacobin- ism. Richardson was, I think, the name of one of the men who tried to open the coach door. He was speedily afterwards given a good clerkship in the naval department of Somerset House. One of the rioters who was tried for high treason was indicted, among other counts, for grinning at the king; whereupon he got several friends to prove that he was always grinning.''' Moyj' different in many respects might have been the subsequent course of limnan affairs and history, if either the obstinate old king or the big- brained young Irish law-student had perished on that day — the one meeting death at the hands of the infuriated Cockneys, the other cloven down by the fierce sweep of the English horseman's sabre! It fs wonderful to contrast the slow travellmg of those days with the manner in which railway-trains annihilate space in our own times. Even the mail and day coaches, immediately prior to the introduction of railway travelling, tra- versed the length and breadth of Great Britain and Ireland at a rate of speed that might be called marvellous, when compared with the slow locomotion of travellers in the day of O'Connell's early manhood. He gives us some cm-ious details respecting the number of days it 108 THE LIFE OP DANIEL O'CONNELL. took him to travel from Darrynane to London in the year 1795, and the distances traversed each day. " I remem- Toer," he says, " when I left Darrynane for London in 1795, my first day's jour- ney was to Cai'hen, my second to Killor- glin, my third to Tralee, my fourth to Limerick, two days thence to Dublin. I sailed from Dublin in the evening. My .passage to Holyhead was performed in twenty-four hours; from Holyhead to Chester took six-and-thirty hours ; from <]^hester to London three days. My •uncle kept a diary of a tour he made in England between the years '70 and '80; and one of his meinoraln/ia was, — ' This day we have travelled thirty-six miles, and passed through parts of five coun- ties.' In 1780 the two members for the County of Kerry sent to Dublin for a noddy, and travelled together in it from Kerry to Dublin. The journey occupied Eeventeen days, and each night the two members quartered themselves at the house of some friend ; and on the seven- teenth day they reached Dublin, just in time for the commencement of the session. The steam-navigation is of infinite utility in abridging the sufferings of sea-sick- ness. In a sailing vessel you often got almost to laud, and yet were tantalized 'by chopping winds or tides which pre- vented your landing. I remember, in 1817 " {U^Connell is speaking of these remin- iscences of his early days late in life), " dodging for eight hours about Caer- narvon harbour before we could land. When on shore I proceeded to Capel- carrig, where I was taken very iU ; and I was not consoled by reflecting that, should my illness threaten life, there was no Catholic priest within forty miles of me." These long journeys are suggestive of any amount of incidents and adventures on the way. They call to mind at once the strange wanderings in Don .Quixote and Gil Bias, so replete with variety and whimsical adventure; or, perhaps still more so, the odd journeys to London and elsewhere lasting for so many days, and so full of humorous and grotesque incidents, in Fielding's Tom Jones and Joseph Andrews; and Smollett's Roderick Random, Peregrine Pickle, and other novels. O'Connell's principal amusement, while keeping his law-terms in London, was boating on the Thames. Indeed, so fond was he of this recreation that the water- men's fares taxed his financial resources so heavily as occasionally to put him to some inconvenience. In 1794 he lodged in a court on the north side of Coventry Street. He described the accommodation he had in this cid-de-sac, as he styled it, as excellent. Long after, when walking through Coventry Street, he would stop opposite a fishmonger's shop and say, — " That shop is in precisely the same state in which I remember it when I was at Gray's Inn, nearly fifty years ago — the same sized window, the same frontage; I believe the same fish." Irish law-students have to keep half their law-terms in London. If ever there could have been any sound reason for this regulation, none exists to-day. The only apparent reason for preserving the custom now is, that it affords the English inns of court an easy means of robbing the Irish of a little money; and probably this passes for a sound reason on the English side of the Channel. In O'Connell's time, and indeed until within the last few years, law-students were under no obligation to attend lectures or pass any examination in law before they could be called to the bar. In fact, a man might become a barrister without having ever opened a law-book. Of course, if he did not study, he could not expect to obtain practice. But he miglit act in that respect as he pleased. All he had to do at the inns of court was to pay certain fees and to eat a certain number of dinners each term for three years, if he were a graduate of a university; for four years and a half if he had no degree. This was called eating one's way to the bar. I find some difficulty in determining to which of the London inns of court O'ConneU belonged. Mr. O'Neill Daunt, who ought to be accur- ately informed on this point, talks in vol. i., page 277, of his Personal Recollec- tions of O'ConneU, of our hero's " attend- ing his terms at Gray's Inn." But in another part of the same work (vol. i., page 155,) O'Connell himself is made to say, in relating some particulars to which I shall have occasion to advert presently: — " After I returned from the Temple," etc. Perhaps, however, this may refer to " the King's Inn " in Dublin, which I think I have occasionally heard persons style "the Temple." Still, even if this were so, the difficulty would remain ; for, in the work of another well-infonned biographical writer, I find it stated that, THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 109 in 1794, he became a law-student in Lincoln's Inn. As O'Connell's family was ancient and comparatively wealthy, he might prefer Lincoln's Inn as being the most aristocratic of the inns. Gray's Inn is not considered so respectable as it or the Temple ; but, on the other hand, Gray's Inn is greatly frequented by the Irish students on account of certain advantages it offers them. It is, if I remember rightly, cheaper than the other inns, and to keep each term a student there is required to dine a less number of days. Besides, as Irish students belong also to the inns in Dublm. and are finally called to the bar in that city, it is of Jess consequence which of the London inns they belong to. I have no means, then, of determining whether O'Conuell belonged to Lincoln's Inn, one of the Temples, or Gray's Inn. At this period, as might be expected, O'Connell used sometimes to be found in the visitors' gallery of the House of Com- mons. He greatly admired the younger William Pitt as a speaker. He once heard iim in a debate "on the state of the na- don." O'Connell tells us that Pitt struck him "as having the most majestic flow of language and the finest voice imaginable. He managed his voice admirably. It was from him I learned to throw out the lower tones at the close of my sentences. Most men either let then* voice fall at the end £)i their sentences, or else force it into a shout or screech. This is because they end with the upper instead of the lower notes. Pitt knew better. He threw his voice so ccmpletely round the House that every syllable he uttered was dis- tinctly heard by every man in the House." jNIr. Daunt asked O'Connell, "Did he hear Fox in the debate to which he was referring? " "Yes," replied O'Connell, "and he spoke delightfully : hLs speech was better than Pitt's. The forte of Pitt as an orator was majestic declamation and an inimitable felicity of phrase. The word he used was always the very best word that could be got to express his idea. The only man I ever knew who ap- proached Pitt in this particular excellence was Charles Kendal Bushe, whose phrases were always admirably happy." We have seen that the atrocities that stained the French Revolution had some- what prejudiced the mind of O'Connell against revoluntionary movements. At the period we are now speaking of, a sort of reaction in favour of popular ideas took place in his mind. During his residence in or near Ijondon, he witnessed the state - trials of Home Tooke, Thelwall, and Hardy. The un- scrupulous manner in which Pitt and the Tory party abused power to persecute these English sympathizers with revolu- tionary or democratic ideas disgusted O'Connell. The indignation he felt lessened daily his conservative leanings, and gradually gave his mind even a tendency towards radicalism. In the words of his son John, " Each suc- cessive day revealing more and more the iniquitous nature of the prosecution, the process of change in Mr. O'Connell's mind ended by converting him to popular opinions, and confirming his natiu'al de- testation of tyranny." O'Connell, during this period of student-life in England, sometimes left his lodgings ui London and sought purer air and retirement in some of the places in the vicinity of the great metro- polis. Tlius, we find him dwelling in -Chiswick in the year 1795*. From that place, in that year, he writes the follow- ing letter to his imcle Maurice O'ConneU of Darrynane: — "I pay the same price for board and lodging as I should in London; but I enjoy many advantages here besides air and retirement. The society in the house is mixed — I mean, composed of men and women, all of whom are people of rank and knowledge of the world; so their conversation and manners arc perfectly well adapted to rub off the rust of scholastic education ; nor is there any danger of riot or dissipation, as they are all advanced in life — another student of law and I being the only young persons in the house. This young man is my most intimate acquaintance, and the only friend I have found among my acquaintances. His name is Bennett; he is an Irishman of good family con- nections and fortune; he is prudent and strictly economical; he has got good sense, ability, and application. I knew him before my journey to Ireland : it was before that period our friendship commenced; so that, on the whole, I spend my time here not only pleasantly, but I hope'very usefully. " The only law-books I have bought as yet are the works of Espinasse on the trials of Nisi Prius. They cost ma 110 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. £1, lOs., and contain more information on the practical part of the law than any other books I ever met. When in Dublin, I reflected that carrying any more books than were absolutely necessary would be incurring expense, so I deferred buying a complete set of reports until my return thither. " I have now two objects to pursue — the one, the attainment of knowledge; the other, the acquisition of those qualities which constitute the polite gentleman. I am convinced that the former, besides the immediate pleasure that it yields, is calculated to raise me to honours, rajik, and fortune ; and I Icnow that the latter serves as a general passport. And as for the motives of ambition which you suggest, I assure you that no man can possess more of it than I do. I have indeed a glowing and — if I may use the expression — an enthusiastic ambition, which converts every toil into a pleasure, _ and every study into an amusement. " Though nature may have given me subordinate talents, I never will be satisfied with a subordinate situation in my profession. No man is able, I am aware, to supply the total deficiency of ability ; but everybody is capable of im- pro^'ing and enlargmg a stock, however small, and in its beginning contemptible. It is this reflection that affords me consolation. If I do not rise at the bar, I will not have to meet the re- proaches of my own conscience. It is not because I assert these things now that I should conceive myself entitled to call on you to believe them. I refer that conviction which I wish to inspire to your experience. I hope — nay, I flatter myself — ^that when we meet again the success of my efforts to correct those bad habits which you pointed out to me will be apparent. Indeed, as for my knowledge in the professional line, that cannot be discovered for some years to come; but I have time in the interim to prepare myself to appear with great eclat on the grand theatre of the world." The above letter is pregnant with many indications of character. It speaks for itself, however, with sufficient clearness, so that I shall leave it to my readers to make their own comments upon it. In O'Connell's young days guests in Ireland were forced by their hosts' to di'ink, whether they liked to do so or not. In fact, they vv^ere sometimes made to drink till they were deadly sick. This was esteemed an essential feature of true old-fashioned hospitality. O'Connell tells us he was the first person in Iveragh to rebel against this custom of the fine old Irish gentleman "all of the old time." "After I returned from the Temple " (?), says he, "I introduced the fashion of resistance, and I soon had abettors enough. It Avas fortunate for me that I never while a youth could drink more than three glasses of wine without being sick, so that I had my personal con- venience to considt in aid of temperance. To be sure, I have seen some rare driak- ing-bouts! In 1785, when less than ten years old, I was at the house of 'a friend near the seaside, and a sloop came in, of which the whole crew got drunk every night — ^Monday night on wine, Tuesday night on punch, Wednesday night on wine, Thiu'sday night on punch, and so on, the only variety consisting in the alternation. What a change in oui social habits since those days! — a most happy change in this respect! I believe' there is no nation under heaven, save our own, in which the apostle of a great moral movement could meet the success that has attended Father Mathew." It is hardly necessary to say that O'Connell. agreed with those who not merely thought Father Mathew's success " highly honour- able to the Catholics," but "probably destined to be one of the means of ex- tending the Catholic religion." Some anecdotes which he used to tell of a whimsical character, called " Cousin Kane," who flomished in Kerry in the days of his youth, are curiously illustrative of the jovial habits and of certain other- singular features in the manners then prevalent in Irish society. " On occasions of festivity," says O'Connell, " I loved to preside at a side-table at Darrynane. I remember a jolly fellow of the name of Kane — everybody called him ' Cousin Kane.' He always lived from house to house, and kept two horses and twelve couple of dogs at other people's expense. One day there was a large dinner at Darry- nane, and Kane was one of the guests at my side-table. A decanter of whisky stood before me, and I, thinking it was sherry — which it exactly resembled in colour — filled ' Cousin Kane's ' glass. He drank it off, but immediately got CHIGWELL CONVEr4T WOODFORr; HRIOGE, THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. Ill into a rage -with me for giving him whisky instead of wine. He gave me a desperate scolding, which he ended by holding out his glass and sajTng, fero- ciously, ' Fill it again, sir! ' " Cousin Kane's figure was in the last degiee ungainly. He was a tall, thin, wiry, raw-boned man, with splay feet, and one slioulder higher than the other. He lived upon all who would let him in ; and being a younger brother of good fanily, he had admission everywhere. "Wlen he was with us at Carhen, he got up at two o'clock in the morning and wakened me with the noise he made. I asted him what he was about, and told -him the clock had only struck two. ' iind am I to be bound by a blackguard cock, you blockhead?' retorted Cousin Eane. ' If it struck twenty-two, is that sny reason I should stay one moment in bed after I can't sleep?' He used to iningle prayers and curses in the most outlandish way — would begin with a pious ejaculation and end with a tre- mendous oath. On the whole, he was a noble brute, fearless, faithful, and sincere, but brutally imcouth and choleric to the last degree. He had seventy-six actions for assault and battery against him ; yet he would venture to go to Tralee in assizes time. He had kicked up a row in court, and Judge Kelly reproved him in as gentle language as the case permitted. He cm'sed and swore at the judge for presuming to lecture a gentleman. Kelly pretended to think he was mad, and said, ' Has this unhappy man any friends in court?' 'Yes,' burst from fifty voices. ' Then take him out and put him up in isafety.' said the judge. He was im- mediately hustled out. Some time after he was riding slowly up a hill, and was overtaken by a gentleman and his servant on horseback. They dismounted and led their horses up the acclivity. The gentleman got on much faster than his ser- vant, who lagged behind near Cousin Kane. At a point where their roads parted, ' Who's your master, friend ? ' asked Kane. ' Judge Kelly, sir.' ' Bad luck to me,' cried Kane, ' that didn't know him without his wig! Ain't I the un- luckiest devil that ever was born, that I didn't thrash him? Give my best respects to your master, friend, and tell him that if I had known who he was, I'd have licked and leathered hun as long as I could stand over him.' " In later life, as O'Connell was one day passing the corner of Grafton Street, a child stopped to stare at him. He immediately said to the friend accom- panying him, " Tliat's just the spot where I stopped to sfcire at Lord Edward Fitz- gerald. I ran on before him, and turned about to enjoy a good stare at him. He was a nice, dapper-looking fellow, with keen dark eyes." The time of this vision of the gallant and ill-fated rebel Geraldine was in all probability in '97 or early in '98; at all events, not very long before the fierce death-grapple of the noble patriot. In '97 the reformers of the period in Dublin used to hold many of their meet- ings in Eustace Street, in a tavern then celebrated. O'ConneU attended one of these meetings — a meeting of the lawyers. As he had not yet been called to the bar, he only went as a spectator. Among those taking a part in the proceedings were John Sheares, who has turned up in this chapter already, and who in '98 sealed his fidelity to the cause of Irish freedom on the scaffold, and Mr. — after- wards Ju'dge — Burton, who lived to figure in the state trials of January. 1844, and to pass sentence on Daniel O'Connell and his fellow-traversers, when convicted by a packed jury on a charge of seditious conspiracy. Referring in his old days to this meeting in Eustace Street, O'Connell said, "It was fortunate for me that I could not then participate in the pro- ceedings. I felt warmly; and a young Catholic student stepping prominently forth in opposition to the Government would have been in all probability hanged. I learned much by being a loolcer-on about that time. I had many good oppor- tunities of acquiring valuable information, upon which I very soon formed my own judgment. It was a terrible time. The polftical leaders of the period could not conceive such a thing as a perfectly open and above-board pohtical machinery. My friend, Richard Newton Bennett, was an adjunct to the directory of the United Irishmen. I was myself a United Irish- man. As I saw how matters worked, I soon learned the lesson to hare no secrets in politics. Other leaders made their workings secret, and only intended to bring out the results. They were there- fore perpetually in peril of treachery. You saw men on whose fidelity you would have staked your existence playing false, 112 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CON NELL. when tempted by the magnitude of the bribe on the one side, and terrified on the other by the danger of hanging." The above phausible remarks are of importance. They shew how early the germs of that peculiar policy and plan of action which characterized his long career as an agitator were planted in his mind. They shew, too, that constant tendency to take an exaggerated view of the prac- tical value of ■ his favourite political theory, and its applicability to the actual circumstances of Irish national affairs, which finally produced such disastrous consequences both to his great repeal movement and to himself. It was in the spring of 1798, on the eve of some of Ireland's darkest days of agony, that Daniel O'Connell was called to the bar. After such a long and iniquitous exclusion of the Catholic body from the field of legal distinction, the time had at length arrived when a young Catholic Irishman of the highest forensic genius was to commence his career as a barrister, destined to win such triumphs in his profession as would necessarily cast the lustre of renown over himself, his despised co-religionists, and even the whole Irish race. In this year of '98, so full of melancholy recollections for Ireland, we find O'Con- nell joining one of the yeomanry corps embodied to defend Dublin against the rebels. Of the members of O'Connell's corps^the " Lawyers' Yeomanry Corps" — many were discovered to be members of the great secret organization of " United Irishmen." This discovery alarmed O'Connell, who was naturally under an apprehension lest, in some manner, he might be involved in a charge of disaffection to "the powers that be." I have just given his own admission that he was himself a United Irishman. Accordingly — manifesting some of the safe wordly prudence I have pointed out as characteristic of the O'Connell race — he determined to withdraw from the danger. In June, 1798, he left Dublin. As communication by land with the interior of the island was then cut off, he sailed with eighteen others for Cork, in a potato-boat, bound for Courtmasherry. They each gave the pilot half-a-guinea to put them ashore at the Cove of Cork. There they landed, after a capital passage of six-and-thirty hours. We may rest assured that the discomforts of this odd voyage iu the potato boat were more than counterbalanced by the fun and frolic of the passengers. Doubtless, O'Connell himseK, with his vein of genial, exuberant humour, was the very soul of the mirth on board. Even of the demon of sea- sickness the merry voyagers were sure to make a laughing-stock. Having landed safely, O'Connell tra- velled to his native Iveragh, and remained for some months at Carhen. Here the career of the future " Liberator " was within a little of being prematurely cut short by an enemy fully as insidious and fatal as the Saxon Government. In ^Diaii:* words, he was assailed by a severe fit of typhus fever in the August of '98. It was caused by his sleeping in wet clothes. He had dried them on him at the fire in a peasant's cabm. At the same time he had tossed off three glasses of whisky, after which he fell asleep. The following daj he goes forth to the chase, but his hunting exercise soon fatigues him, anc he falls asleep in a ditch beneath the rays of the sun. He gets worse and worse every day. He spends a fortnight in a miserable state of discomfort, wandering about and unable to eat anything. At last, feeling that he can battle against the disease no longer, he gives in and takes to bed. Now old Dr. Moriarty is sent for in hot haste. He at once pronounces our hero to be in a state of high fever. " I was in such pain," says O'Connell, '-that I wished to die. In my ravings I fancied that I was in the middle of a wood, and that the branches were on fire around me. I felt my backbone stiffening for death; and I positively declare that 1 think what saved me was the effort I made to rise up and shew my father, who was at my bed- side, that I knew him. I verily believe that effort of nature averted death. During my illness I used to quote from the tragedy of ' Douglas ' these lines : — ' Uuknown I die, no tongue shall spoak of me ; Some noble spirits, judging by tliemselves, May yet conjecture what I might have proved, And think life only wanting to my fame.' " I used to quote these lines imder the full belief that my illness would end fatally. Indeed, long before that period — when I was seven years old — yes, indeed, as long as I can recollect, I always felt a presentunent that I should write my name on the page of history. I ]iatc(i Saxon domination. I detested the tyrants THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 113 of Ireland. During the latter part of my illness, Dr. Moriarty told me that Bona- parte had got his whole army to Alex- andria across the desert. "'That is impossible,' said I; 'he cannot have done so ; they would have starved.' "'Oh no,' replied the doctor; 'they had a quantity of portable soup with them, sufficient to feed the whole army for four days.' " ' Ay,' rejoined I ; ' but had they port- able water? For their portable soup would have been but of little use if they I^ad not water to dissolve it in.' "My father looked at the attendants with an air of liope. Dr. Moriarty said to my mother, ' His intellect, at any rate, is untouched.' I remember the doctor's mentioning the rmnour of an engagement between tlie insurgents and the royalists at Ballinamuck; but the result had not then transpired." After this severe wrestling match with " that most excellent fellow, Deatli," as Lucian humorously styles the terrible and all-destroying " goblin " king, O'Connell rapidly recovered. And now, behold ! early one sunny morn in 1799, like the adventurers of old, he sallies forth on horseback from his father's house at Carhen — the abode where he first saw the blessed light of heaven — to go on his first circuit. Our cavalier, however, is not armed with lance and shield, or clad in complete steel; nor does lie, like the antique knights-errant, expect to redress the wrongs of injured damsels by the wayside. Yet is our adventurer strongly armed, too, with a powerful frame and constitution, a stout, hopeful heart, and above all a vigorous, domineering brain, full of all the subtleties and resources of an acute lawyer, and all the commanding energy of a consummate popular leader. Xa(\. ere he dies he, too, may right, in modem forensic way, the wrongs of widow and orphan, and in another way, more or less his own, may go far to redress the wrongs of an entire nation. He, too, may meet and vanquish in desperate encounter many an ogre of misrule and wrong. Wicked barons and rack-renting landocrats were grinding down Irish peasants in his days as fiercely and piti- lessly as their forefathers or prototypes trampled under iron heel the mediaeval serfs. His own account of this his first sally (properly so called) from his paternal home, to fight the battle of life, is in tensely interesting. It would be a pity not to give it in his own words. After men- tioning that on his recovery " he prepared to go off circuiteering," he thus proceeds: " It Avas at four o'clock on a fine sunny morning that I left Carhen on horseback. My brother John came part of the way with me; and oh how I did envy him when he turned off the road to hunt among the mountains, whilst I had to enter on the drudgery of my profession ! But we parted. I looked after him from time to time until he was out of sight, and then I cheered up my spirits as well as I could. I had left home at such an early hour that I was in Tralee at half -past twelve. I got my horse fed ; and thinking it was as well to push on, I remounted him and took the road to Tarbert, by Listowell. A few miles farther on a shower of rain drove me under a bridge for slielter. AVhile I stayed there the rain sent Kobert Hickson also imder the bridge. He saluted me, and asked me where I was going. I answered, ' To Tarbert.' " 'Why so late'?' said Hickson. " 'I am not late," said I. ' I have been up smce four o'clock this morning.' " 'AVhy, where do you come from?' "'From Carhen.' Hickson looked astonished, for the distance was near fifty Irish miles ; but he expressed his warm approval of my activity. " ' You'll do, young gentleman,' said he ; 'I see ijoii'll do.' "I then rode on, and got to Tarbert about five in the afternoon — full sixty miles, Irish, from Carhen. There wasn't one book to be had at the inn. I had no acquaintance in the town, and I felt my spirits low enough at the prospect of a long, stupid evenmg. But I was relieved by tiie sudden appearance of Ralph ]Mar- shall, an old friend of mine, who came to the inn to dress for a ball that took place in Tarbert that night. He asked me to accompany him to the ball. " 'Why,' said I, 'I have ridden sixty miles.' " ' Oh, you don't seem in the least tired,' said he ; ' so come along.' "Accordingly I went, and sat up until two o'clock in the morning, dancing." (Here either Dan or Mr. Daunt, who is the reporter of his words, seems to be guilty of something like "an Irisli bull.")- " I arose next day at half -past eiglit, and 114 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. rode to the Limei-ick assizes. At the Tralee assizes of the same circuit James Connor gave me a brief. There was one of the -witnesses of the other party Avhose cross-exa,mination was thrown upon vie by the opposite counsel. I did not do as I have seen fifty young counsel do — namely, hand the cross-examination over to my senior. I thought it due to myseK to attempt it, hit or miss, and I cross- examined him right well. I remember he stated that he had his f:harc of a pint of whiskj'- ; whereupon I asked him whether ?iis share was not all except the pewter. He confessed that it was ; and the oddity of my mode of putting the question was- very successful, and created a general and hearty laugh. Jerr,^ Keller repeated the encouragement Robert Hickson had al- ready bestowed upon my activity in the very same words: ' You'll f/o, young gentleman — you'll Jo.'" It may be remarked here, for the edifi- cation of American readers of the above anecdotes, that Irish miles are much longer than English miles. Distances in Ireland are now, however, more generally aaaeasiu'ed by English miles than they were in O'Counell's early days. The Jerry Keller just mentioned was an Irish barrister of great abilities and greater eccentricity, of whom we shall hear again in the course of this biography. Robert Hickson had originally been a Roman Catholic. He thought proper, however, to turn Protestant, and was twice made high-sheriff of the county of Kerry. In"l799 he took it into his head to turn Catholic again, and, before doing so, consulted Plunkett, Saurin, and young O'Connell, to learn whether, by taking such a step, he would incur the penalties against " relapsed Papists." His legal advisers freed his mind from all appre- hension on this score ; and he accordingly went back to liis orignal Church, nor did he ever stray from its fold again, But the adventures of this circuit, in the' course of Avhich our hero attended the assizes of Limerick, Tralee, and Cork, are not yet finished. After the Cork assizes, O'Connell and another barrister, aiamed Hany Deane Grady, agreed to travel post to Dublin together. When, on a very wet evening, the two travellers reached Fermoy, they found the inns completely crowded with the judges, their suite, and their yeomanry escort, so that they were compelled to dine in a comer of the tap-room. Whilst the two young la^wyers were there, a corporal of dragoons and three privates entered and sat down to drink. O'Connell and Grady were very anxious to provide tliemselves with powder and ball for their pistols, as they had to pass that evening by a dangerous route through the Kilwortli mountains, which then bore an evil name from the fact of their defiles being in- fested with gangs of robbers. There was one part of the old road peculiarly dangerous in more ways than one. It was a narrow causeway thrown across a glen : it was unprotected by guard-walls and too narrow for two vehicles to pass abreast. The postboys were wont to style it " the delicate bit." "And, " to use the words of O'Connell, "a ticklish spot it surely was on a dark night, approached at one end from a steep dechvity." It was no wonder, then, that our forensic travel- lers v/ere anxious before passing the Kil- worth defiles, especially "the delicate bit," to procure a, fresh supply of munitions of war. so as to be able to defy the robbers at all events. Having this object in view, Grady, turned to the corporal, and said, abruptly, — ^'■Soldier, will you sell me some powder and ball?" " Sir. I don't sell powder," replied the corporal, snappishly. " W'ill you, then, have the goodness to buy me some? " said Grady. " I believe the fellows that are licensed to sell it here are very chary of it." Remember, this was the year after the sangumary rebellion of '98. A general feeling of uneasiness, distrust, even terror, still pervaded the island. " Sir," replied the corporal, still more tartly than before, "you may go yourself ; I am no man's messenger but the king's." O'Connell seized the first opportunity of v/hisjiering to Grady, — "I wonder. Grady, that you, who have so much mother-wit, siiotdd have been guilty of the blunder of calling the corporal ' Soldier.' Did you not see the mark of his rank upon his sleeve? You have grievously wounded his pi'ide and turned him against us by tl)us undervahiing him in the eyes of his own soldiers, whom doubtless he keeps at a distance, and amongst whom he plays the othcer." Grady kept silent, and in a minute our insinuating hero accosted the oii'ended son of Mars. THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 115 '■ Sergeant." said the wily advocate, "I am veiy glad that you and your brave fel- lows here had not the trouble of escorting the judges this wet day. It was exceEent business for those yeomanry chaps." " Ay, indeed, sir," said the corporal, this time speaking quite ci\-iUy, and mani- festly highly flattered at having been styled '' Sergeant" by our hero ; •• it was well for those that were not under these torrents of rain." '•Perhaps, sergeant," resimies the bland and insinuating diplomatist, "you would have the kindness to procure me some powder and ball in town : we ai-e to pass the Kilworth mountains, and shall want ammunition. You can of course have no difficulty in pui'chasing ; but it is not to every one they'll sell these matters." This clever proceeding by method of sap and mine on the part of the oily young barrister was simply irresistible. The corporal in a moment forgot all about his offended dignity; Dan's blarney went down like new milk mi^ied with drops of Lethe's water. "Sir," said the corporal with the ut- most honhommie, and even effusion, "I shall have very great pleasure in request- ing your acceptance of a small supply of powder and ball. My balls will, 1 think, just fit your pistol, i'ou'll stand in need of ammunition, for there ai-e some of those outlying rebelly rascals on the mountains." Hariy Grady was immensely amused at Dan's brilliant success in smoothing the ruffled feelings of the wamor. " Ah, Dan," said he, smiling at his bakay- tongued fellow-traveller, "you'll go through the world fair and easy, I fore- see." Indeed, everybody who came across Dan in tliose days, or even earUer, seemed to anticipate his future success in hfe. We have seen a remarkable instance of this in Dr. Stapylton's letter to his imcle from St. Omer's. In the same mannei his instructors at Douay had already prophesied his future renown from the uncommon talent he manifested whde in ' that seminary. But, to return to our two travellers. Their warlike preparations after all were notcjilled into requisition. The expected attack by the band of robbers did not come off; though, on the pruiciples of that admirable authority in predator}"" nfatt<.'rs, the worthy Captain Gibbet, in Farquliar's comedy of " The Beaux' Stra- tagem," the night was a beautiful one for such an enterprise, for it was fearfully wet as O'Connell and Grady crossed the Kilworth mountains, and it may be pre- sxmied pretty safely it was also, to use the words of Gibbet's excellent coUeagu© in roguer}^ liounslow, "dark as hell;" and jTOSsibly, if then- comrade Bagshot, the third member of this ■ respectable triumvirate, so admirably typical of a certain class of " British worthies," had been there, he would have added of the night, "and blows like the devil." " It is an ill wind that blows nobodj^ good;" so the old sapng runs, and it may be very true, for all I know to the contrary. But it is also true that there is no ill wind or weather but does some- body some harm, be it more or less. If O'v'onneU and his friend Grady escaped scot-free this night from all ill conse- quences of foul weather or mishaps from fouler deeds of robbers, or other mis- chances of tlie road, the day and the weather were fatal to a consin of Dan's. Captain Henessey, his cousin, commanded the company that escorted tlie judges from the city of Cork to Fermoy on that day. By the time he arrived at Fermoy he was wet to the skin. When he got into the inn, he pulled out the breast of his shirt and wrung about a pint of water from it on the floor. O'Connell implored him to change his clothes. "Oh no," he said, carelessly, "Isha'n't mind it;" and in that state he sat down to dinner. The result of this act of un- prudence was a fever; and in three or four days Captain Henessey was a corpse. Referriug afterwards to this melancholy occurrence, O'Connell makes the follow- ing reflections: — "How people will fling their lives away! I once mj'-self nearly fell a victim to sitting in wet clothes." (No doubt O^Connell here refers to tlic severe attack of fever already described in this chapter.') " No one should remain an in- stant in them after ceasing to be in motion. As long as you are riding or walking, tlie exercise preserves you. On reaching your house, throw off your wet clothes, and get between the blankets at once. Thus you become warm all over in an instant. To rinse the mouth once or twice with spirits and water is useful." This Harry Deane Grady, O'Connell'a fellow-traveller on this occasion, v/as, in O'Connell's opinion, " a very dexterous 116 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. eross-examiner." He once shewed Lis skill in this respect very conspicuously at an assizes at Tralee, where he was retained to defend some stUI-owners who had been recently engaged in a scuffle with five soldiers. The soldiers were witnesses against the still -owners. Harry Grady cross-examined in the f oUoAving style each soldier, out of ear-shot of his comrades, who were all kept out of court: — - " AVell, soldier, it was a murderous scuffle, wasn't it?" "Yes." '■'But you weren't afraid?" " No." " Of course you weren't. It is part of your sworn duty to die in the king's service, if needs must. But. if you were not afraid, maybe others were not quite so brave. Were any of your comrades frightened? Tell the truth now." •• Why, indeed, sir, I can't say but they v/ere." •• All, I thought so. Come, now, name the men who were frightened. On your oath, now." The soldier then mentioned every "man Jack" of his four comrades. Grady then told him "he might go down;" after which he called up on the table soldier jiumber two, to whom he addressed pre- cisely the same set of questions, receiving- just the same answers. The third, fourth, and fifth soldiers were called up in turn, and Grady adopted in every case the same line of cross-exammation with the same identical result. In short, he induced each of the five soldiers to swear that he alone had fought the still-owners courage- ously, and that every one of his four comrades was an arrant coward. By this ingenious method Harry contrived to throw complete discredit on the soldiers' evidence agamst his clients. Having passed the defiles of the KU- v\rortli mountains without any collision with the liigliM'aymen, the two young- lawyers reached Dublin in safety on the tJiird day; and so ended auspiciously Daniel O'Connell's first circuit. It may not be out of place to mention here, that during his first year at the legal profession, O'Connell's fees amounted to fifty-eight pounds sterling; during the second year he received one hundred and fifty; durmg the third, two hundred; and during the fourth he received about three hundred guineas. But during the last year of Ins practice he got no less a sum tlian nine thousand pounds, though he lost one term. The freebooters contmued to levy con- tributions in the perilous passes of the Kilworth mountains for a long time after the adventures I have just related. The last remaining robber, Mr. O'Neill Daunt tells us, was shot about the year 1810 by the postmaster of Fermo3^ Several indi- viduals had been forced to pay tribute to this unlicensed surveyor of the king's highway a short time previously; upon wiiich the postmaster and another towns- man of Fermoy hired a post-chaise and drove to the Kilworth mountains. The robber, spying the chaise as it drew near, darted on his imagmed prey, and gave the customary order to "stand and deliver-." The response of the postmaster took him rather by surprise, for that combatiA'e official shot him dead incontinently ; and thus perished the last freebooter of the Kilworth range. O'Connell himself once mistook a pos- sibly quite inoffensive man for a robber, and was within an ace of shooting him. This occurred about five or six mUes on the Dublin side of Nenagh. Travelling- over the same ground years after with I\Ir. Daunt, he related to that gentleman the circumstances of the adventure. " I was very near being a very guilty wretch there," said the Liiberator. 50me years ago, when this neighbourhood was much infested with robbers, I was ti-avelling on circuit. My horses were not very good; and just at this spot I saw a man whose movements excited my suspicions. He slowly crossed the road about twenty yards in advance of my carriage, and awaited my approach with his back against tlie wall and his hand in the breast of his coat, as if ready to draw a pistol. I felt certain I should be attacked; so I held my pistol ready to fire, its barrel resting on the carriage door. The man did not stir, and so esca2:)ed. Had lie but raised his hand I should have fired. Good God! what a miserable guilty wretch I should have been ! How sincerely I thank God for my escape from such guilt!" As we are on the subject of highway- men and robbers, I may as well give here O'ConneU's account of the death of the notorious highwajTiian, Brennan, who in our hero's earlier days, like many other more respectable public characters, flour- ished for a good while at other people's expense. It was when on his way from Maryborough, in the Queen's county, to Dublin that O'Connell gave it to Mr. THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 117 Daunt, the day after he related the last anecdote. As they were passing by a gravel-pit he suddenly said, — " That is the spot where Brennan the robber was killed. Jerrj' Connor {of Tralee, an attorney) was going from Dublin to Kerry, and was attacked by Brennan at that spot. Brennan presented his pistol, crying, — 'Stand!' 'Hold!' cried Jerry Connor. ' Don't fire ; here's my purse.' The robber, thrown off his guard by these Avords, lowered his weapon, and Jerry, instead of a purse, drew a pistol from his pocket and shot Brennan in the chest. Brennan's back was supported at the time against the ditch, so he did not fall. He took deliberate aim at Jerry; but feel- ing himself mortally wounded, dropped his pistol, crawled over the ditch, and walked slowly along, keeping parallel with the road.. He then crept over another ditch, under which he was found dead the next morning." Such was the fate of Brennan the robbei'. I remember having heard and read in my boyhood some other anecdotes of this unlucky knight of the road, Brennan; how on one occasion he was chased into a wood by some militia soldiers; how he concealed himself in some tangled under- growth ; how, when they were beating about and searching for him, the sergeant, thrusting all round with his bayonet, stuck him three times; how Brennan's endurance was so great as to enable him to refrain from uttering a cry till the pain of the third stab forced him to give in. Also, I remember reading that, when Brennan was lodged in jail, a certain banker whose ci'edit at the time was none of the highest, and whose notes people were not over fond of receiving as pay- ment, came like numbers of other gohe- mouches, to gratify his curiosity by staring at his brother rogue. "I'm glad to see you there at last," said the banker, addressing Brennan wdth rather Anndictive emphasis. " Well now, really." replied Brennan with sly humour, "1 must say you 're a most ungrateful man, for I never objected to take your notes when every- body else was refusing them." During the same journey, at a part of the road between Kildare and Rathcoole, O'Connell pointed out the spot where Leonard McNally, the attorney, son to the barrister of the same name, who was a well-known character in Ireland in the days of O'Connell's early bar life, asserted he had been robbed of a heavy sum of money. He tried to indemnify himself for this alleged loss by levying an equiva- lent sum off the county. " A pair of greater rogues than fatlier and son never lived," said O'Connell; -'and the father was busily endeavouring to impress upon every person he knew a belief that his son had been really robbed. Among others, he accosted Parsons, then member of Parliament for the King's county, in the hall of the Four Courts. 'Parsons! Parsons, my dear fellow 1 " said old Leonard. • did you hear of my son's robbery?' 'No,' answered Parsons, quietly. ' I did not. "Whom did he rob'?'" O'Connell used sometimes to indulge in pleasant and genial reminiscences of the inns, wherewearyandtravel-stained guests found their "warmest welcome." in his earlier days. Often and oftiii, when on circuit, basking on a winter's evening in the warmth of the bright and cheering hearths of tliose inn parlours, he enjoyed the merry social converse of his bar con- temporaries, not less brilliant with its continual flashes of wit and humour than the firelight that glowed and sparkled in the rich, ruddy wine on the table, and danced all around on the walls and the ceiling. How cozily these jolly com- panions slumbered at last, after then* fatigues and revelry, in the comfortable beds, buried deep a,mid 2iiles of feathers ! And then how famous for their capital breakfasts and substantial dinners were some of these old hostelries! In such abodes of superabundant hospitality. Dugald Dalgetty himself, if he were once more on earth, would find it an easy and most enjoyable task at one meal " to victual himself for at least three days." " There," cries O'C^onnell, " was the Coach and Horses Inn, at Assolas, in the county Clare — I dare say you remember it, Tom, close to the bridge." (He teas addreiisin;/ no less a personcn/e than his faith- ful anrl eccentric squire, Tom Steele.) "What deUcious claret they had there! It is levelled with the ground these many years. Then there was that inn near Mary- borougli. How often I have seen the old trooper who kept it smoking his pipe on the stone bench at the door, and his fat old wife sitting opposite to him! Tbey kept a right good liouse. She inherited the inn from her father and mother, and was trained up early to the business. She 118 THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. was an only child, and had displeased her parents by a runaway-match with a dragoon soldier. However, they soon relented, and received her and her hus- band into favour. Tlie worthy trooper took charge ot" the stable department, for which his habits well adapted him, and the in-door business was admirably managed by his wife. " Then there was that inn at !N"aas — most comfortably kept, and excellent wine. I remember stopping to dine there one day, posting up from the Limerick assizes. There were three of us in the chaise, and was tipsy; his eyes were bloodshot, and his features swollen from hard drink- ing on the previous night, besides which he had tippled a little in the morning. As he got out of the chaise I called him ' Parson,' to the evident delight of a Methodist preacher who was haranguing a crowd in the street, and v/ho deemed his own merits enhanced by the contrast with a sottish minister of the Establish- ment." Speaking of the inn at Milstreet, in the county Cork, he remarked to his friend Mr. Daunt, — "The improved roads have injured that inn. I well remember when it was the regular end of the first day's journey from Tralee. It ^vas a comfort- able thing for a social pair of fellow- travellers to get out of their chaise at nightfall, and to find at the inn (it was then kept by a cousin of mine, a Mrs. Cotter) a roaring fire in a clean, well- fumished parlour, the whitest table-linen, the best beef, tlie sweetest and tenderest mutton, the fattest fowl, the most excel- lent wines (claret and Madeira were the high wines then — they knew nothing about champagne), and the most com- fortable beds. In my early days it was by far the best inn in Mimster. But the new roads have enabled the travellers from Kerry to get far beyond Milstreet in a day ; and the inn being therefore less frequented than of old, is of course not so well looked after by its present proprietor." Between Milstreet and Macroom, O'CouneU used to point out the old mountain-roads, over which, in former days, the judges when on circuit were obliged to travel. If persons observed to him that these roads seemed quite impassable for wheel-carriages, he would remark, thatthe old infirm judges travelled over them in their cai-riasres at a foot- pace; the younger judges went circuit on horseback. On one occasion Mr. Daunt asked O'Connell "whether he admired and sympathized with Arthur O'Connor ? " Arthur O'Connor, it is scarcely necessary to observe, was one of the most pro- minent leaders of the " United Irishmen." He was also uncle to Fergus O'Connor, O'Connell's assistant-agitator at a later period of his career. " More no than yes," was O'CcnneU's reply to Mr. Daunt's inquiry. " I had, indeed, admired him until Curra.n dis- closed to me that he had a plan for an agrarian law, dividing the land in equal portions among all the inhabitants. J^liat, I saw at once, uivolved consequences so anti-social, that it greatly cooled my admiration of him." Mr. Daunt observes that, except from O'Connell, he never heard of Arthui* O'Connor's plan for the division of the land. He seems inclined to conjecture that it may, after all, have been a plan for a small allotment system, calcula^ted to promote "the comfort of the humbler classes, without encroaching upon the mterests or rights of the landed aristo- cracy," involving, in short, "no anti-social resujts." We have seen O'Connell travelling with Harry Deane Grady, but in the earlier portion of his career he sometimes had far more distinguished fellow-tra- vellers. He once travelled with the illustrious Curran in the Cork mail. At the period of this journey, travellers by the mail reached Dublin from Cork in eight-and-forty hours. On this occasion there were six insides and unlimited out- sides (in later times the number of passengers a ?Ha«7-coach could caixy was limited, if I remember rightly, to eight; ordinary day coaches were licensed to carry nineteen, but they often crowded, more on the top of the luggage on', the roof). The piassengers got oif tlie coach and walked two or three mdes on the rising ground on the Dublin side of Clomnel. It was dui-ing that Avalk that Curran talked to O'Connell of Arthur O'Connor's supposed agrarian scheme. In the course of a conversation, in which the name of Arthur O'Connor chanced to turn up, that gentleman's celebrated letter to Lord Castlereagh, written in 1798, was spoken of. "Do you know," said O'Connell to Mr, Daunt, THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 119 "who got that letter printed? It was your friend, old Cornelius McLoughlin. He was walking past Kihnainham prison, and was hailed by Arthur O'Connor from a window. Arthur threw his manuscript out, saying, ' Will you do me the service of getting that printed ? ' ' If 1 find on perusal that it merits publication, I will,' said McLoughlin. 'Promise me posi- tively!' 'No; but if I like the pro- duction I shall gladly bear the expense of printing it.' So saying, McLoughlin took it home, read, approved, and got it printed. For acting thus, Cornelius was brought before the Select Committee of the House of Commons. When asked who got the pamphlet printed, he boldly answered, ' It was I.' ' Why did you do so ? ' ' Because I approved of the prin- ciples contained in it.' Whereupon Castlereagh said, ' That's a brave fellow ! We won't inflict any punishment upon him.'" Mr. Daunt, feeling somewhat surprised at this instance of lenity in Castlereagh, remarked, that "he had not thought his lordship had so much good in him." "Oh," replied the Liberator, "he had a good deal of plucky and liked spirit in others. Besides, at that period, as the Union was virtually carried, there* did not exist any pressing occasion to shed innocent blood." O'ConneU, contrasting the reputation for wit which the Ii-ish bar enjoyed at the close of the eighteenth century with that which it possessed at a much later period of his life, admitted, indeed, that in the more recent period the profession could boast no such wit as Curran, but maintained that stUl it had within its ranks members largely endowed with the talent for provoking laughter. ' ' Holmes, " said lie, ' ' has a great share of very clever ^sarcasm. As for myself, to the last hour of my practice at the bar, I kept the court alternately in tears and in roars of laughter. Plunket had great wit. He was a creature of exquisite genius. No- thing could be happier than his hit in reply to Lord Redesdale (Alitford, brother of the historian of Greece — a dry Eru/Hsh- man sent over to he Irish ClianccUor) about the kites. In a speech before Redesdale, Plunket had occasion to use the phrase 'kites' very frequently, as designating fraudulent bills and promissory notes. Lord Redesdale, to whom the phrase was ([uite new, at length interrupted him, saying, 'I don't quite understand your meaning, Mr. Plunket. In England kites are paper playthings used by boys; in Ireland they seem to mean some monetary transaction.' 'There is another differ- ence, my lord,' said Plunket. ' In England the wind raises the kites ; in Ireland the kites raise the wind.'' " Curran was once defending an attor- ney's bill of costs before Lord Clare (Chancellor of Ireland, an infamous L-ish- vian, ivho was mainly instrumental in carrying the accursed Act of Union that extinguished the legislative independence of his country'). ' Here, now,' said Clare, ' is a flagitious imposition : how can you defend this item, Mr. Curran: "To wi-iting innumerable letters, £100?'" 'Y\^hy, my lord,' said Curran, ' nothing can be more reasonable. It is not a penny a letter!^ And Curran's reply to judge Robinson is exquisite in its way. 'I'll commit you, sir,' said the judge. ' I hope you'll never commit a worse thing, my lord!' retorted Curran. "WUson Croker, too, had humour. A'NT.ien the crier wanted to ^xpel the dwarf O'l^eary, who was about two feet four inches high, from the jury-box in Tralee, Crocker said, ' Let him stay where he is — De viinibus non curat lex.'' (About very small things the law cares not.) And when Tom Goold got retainers from both sides, 'Keep them both,' said Croker; 'you may conscientiously do so. You can be counsel for one side, and of use to the OthLT.' " It was probably during the early days of his professional life that O'ConneU was about to write a novel. When asked what his story was to have been, he said, "Why, as to tlie story, I had not that fully determined on. But my hero was to have been a natural son of George III. by Hannah Lightfoot, his Quaker mistress. The .youth was to have been early taken from his mother, and I meant to make him a student at Douay, and thence to bring him through various adventures to the West Indies. He was to be a soldier of fortune — to take part in the American war — and to come back finally to England imbued with republican principles." Mr. Daunt failed to remember clearly whether O'ConneU intended that this young ad- venturer, on his rjturn to his native land, should be confronted with the king, his father. O'ConneU was a zealous advocate of the beautiful and unfortunate Mary 120 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. Queen of Scots. This doughty champion ■was inclined to do desperate battle for the honour of her name and memory in the teeth of all the charges and aspersions levelled and flung against her fair fame. In fact, he seems to have felt a glow of downright enthusiasm for the memory of the hapless queen, and to have almost reverenced any relics of her still remain- ing. "I saw her manuscript," said he, *'in the Advocates' Library at Edinburgh; I kissed the -uTiting and pressed it to my heart." This was rather a high-flown style of devotion or chivalry, to say the least. Few persons, in the present stage of the nineteenth century at all events, could be made to admire or even comprehend such a cherishing of royal souvenirs, and such a tliorough devotion to those old if not obsolete feelings and sentiments of loyalty that were felt rather on account of the associations hanging around a dynasty, than on account of the sovereign's own sterling merits. Tliis extreme admiration of Mary Queen of Scots formed, no doubt, a large part of. the romance of our hero's more youthful days. But his heart and imagination could not for any length of time remain con- tented wititi a mere ideal romance, in which the ill-starred and beautiful Scottish Queen of the sixteenth century should reign as the sole heroine. His soul now began to long for an object of love and devotion, having more touch of reality than the melancholy historic or poetic phantoms of the past. And soon these cravings of his whole being were more than satisfied, for his fair cousin, Mary O'Connell, glided before him a most " delightful vision " — ^real, indeed, yet idealized, too, by his own enamoured fancy, and made all-radiant by the " purple light of love." Tlie dreams and longings of botJi are indeed more -than realized. Youth's magic power carries them for a time far away from " dull earth," and they wander blissfully hand in hand through regions of delicious enchantment. O'Connell himself gives us a glimpse of the supreme moment of happiness in this the love-romance of his life. "I never," he says, "proposed marriage to any woman but one — my Mary. I said to her, ' Are you engaged. Miss O'Connell"?' She answered, 'lam not.' 'Then,' said I, 'will you engage yourself to me? ' ' I will,' was her reply. And I said I would devote my life to make her happy. She deserved that I should: she gave me thirty-four years of the purest happiness that man ever enjoyed. ]My uncle was desirous I should obtain a much larger fortune, and I thought he would disinherit me. But I did not care for that. I was richly rewarded by sub- sequent happiness." Had his uncle and other relatives, who were indignant at the match, not relented, his profession would, even from the outset, have sufficed to make him independent. The lovers were privately married on the 23rd of June, 1802, in Dame Street, Dublin, at the lodgings of Mr. James Connor, the lady's brother-in-law. The bride was the daughter of a physician in Tralee, who was indeed skilful in hia profession, but not sufnciently rich to give a marriage portion with his daughter. This it was which caused the resentment in O'ConnelFs family when they came to know of the marriage, for it was kept secret for several months. The Reverend jNIr. Finn, then parish priest of Irishtown, was the clergyman who pronounced the nuptial benediction. The young wife resided in Tralee with her grandmother. It used to be O'Con- nell's delight to quiz the old lady by prett^nding to complain of her grand- daughter's want of temper. "Madam," he would say, " Mary would- do very well, only she is so cross." " Cross, sir? " the old lady would hastily reply, in the greatest state of amazement and vexation. "My Mary cross? Sir, you must have provoked her very much. Sir, you must yourself be quite at fault. Sir, my httle girl was always the gentlest, sweetest creature born!" "And so she was!" O'Connell would exclaim, when recalling in after days these tender passages of his early wedded life. " She had the sweetest, the most, heavenly temper, and the sweetest breath." O'Connell used to tell this anecdote of his wife's days of childhood: — " "When my wife was a little girl she was obliged to pass, on her way to school every day, under the arch of the jail; and Hands, the jailer of Tralee, a most gruff, uncouth -looking fellow, always made her stop and courtesy to him. She despatched the courtesy with all imaginary expedi- tion, and ran away to scliool to get out of his sight as fast as possible." Here is a specimen of O'Connell's style THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 121 of responding to a toast given in honour of Mrs. O'C^oniiell: — -'There are some topics of so sacred and sweet a nature that they may be comprehended by those wlio are happy, but cannot possibly be described by any human being. All that 1 shall do is to thank you in the name of her who was the disinterested choice of my youth, and who was the ever-cheerful compariion of my manly years. In her name I thank you. And this you may rdidily believe — ^for experience, I think, will shew to us all that a man cannot battle and struggle with the malignant enemies of his country^unless his nest at home is warm and comfortable — unless the honey of human life is commended by a hand he loves." With the above contrast the following passage, which was delivered at a temper- ance soiree that was given to him in Belfast, in the year 1841, by four hundred and fifty ladies of various religious sects. It was reported in The Belfast Vindicator of the 20th January, 1841:— "But that .subject brings me back to a being of whom I dare not speak m the profanation of words. No, I will not mention that name. The man who is happiest in his domestic circle may have some idea of wliat my happiness was. Yes, I was her husband then. Did I say mas'? Oh, ytis ! I am her husband still. The grave may separate us for a time, but we shall meet again beyond it, never, I trust, to be separated more." Mr. Fagan tells us, in his Life of O'Connell, that Mrs. O'Connell' was an exceedingly amiable, strong-minded woman ; and Mr. O'Connell, it was said. was during her life very much guided by her advice. Perhaps it may not be out of place here to give some curious remarks of O'Connell on the subject of courtship. Speaking one day of the assiduities of a friend (I believe Tom Steele) to a certain widow, he observed: — " One blunder the fellow made was, that he asked her to marry him at far too early a period of the courtship. This was highly injudi- cious. Xow, by this precipitation he lost the advantage which female curiosity would have otherwise given him. lie might have been tender and assiduous, but he should not have declared himseK iintil after he had rendered her consider- ably curious as to whether he would pro- pose for her or not. This would have created, at all events, an interest about him. " Then, again, as to his telling her that he was confident of brilliant political distinction, and holding out as a lure that she would be the sharer of his honours — it shewed great want of tact, great want of knowledge of human nature. If he had tact he would have said, — ' I am opening a career of ambition ; perhaps I overrate my prospects of success in public life ; but there is one thing which I deeply feel would essentially contribute to it, and that is domestic felicity.' lie should have spoken this with a tender earnestness, and left her to conjecture his meaning. But instead of thus delicately feeling his Avay, the fellow blurted out his trashy brag of successful ambition and fame, and his offer of marriage all at once. Then, as to the raptures — why, every woman past girlhood laughs at raptures! had fine opportunities, only that the block- head didn't know how to make use of them." It is probable that the fact of his being obliged, owing to the hostility of his uncle and other near relations to this marriage with an undowered bride, to trust for a time to his owm exertions, had the most saAtary effect upon his future fortunes. All the vast energies of his being were aroused, that he might be able the better to place his beloved one in such a position as he believed she merited and was fitted to adorn. From this time forward he became every day more and more conspicuous among the public men of his own country for his marvellous industry and activity, his broad views and mastery of details, his amazing fertility of resources. Indeed, in these qualities he was inferior to the public men of no country in the world. Ere long it became quite evident that he was destined to succeed equally in his pro- fessional career and in political life. I remember once hearing or reading an account of some rich individual who went to Lord Chief -Justice Kenyon, I believe, to ask him as a friend what were likely to be the chances of his son at the bar. Tlie chief-justice made the following reply: — "Sir, your son must spend his fortune; let him marry and spend his wife's ; and then he may be expected to apply in earnest." In Curran's Life., too, we find that he attributes his success to the fact of his being left without a 122 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. shLlling. " (Test des difficultes qui naissent les miracles.'''' ("It is difficulties which give birth to miracles." Rather different was the advice given, some years ago, by one of the senior fellows of Trinity College, Dublin, who was a lay-fellow and a barrister, to a friend who came to consult him about the law-books his son should study in order to secure success at the bar. "Books!" cries the old fellow. "Oh! don't trouble yourself about books. Let your son go to a shooting-gallery, and practice pistol-shooting for two hours every day for a year. That's, the way to rise at the bar in Ireland." The old gentleman had been living a secluded life for at least a score of years. In his learned retreat he had failed to observe the changes that had taken place in Ire- land, both in society in general and for- ensic training in particular. He ima- gined, that the age of Irish duelling, when aU questions Avere liable to be 'lecided by the arbitrament of the pistol, had not yet passed away — ^that rising lawyers might stiU be able to boast, like the sanguinary Toler, that they owed their success in life to the parental pre- sent of a pair of good duelliiig-pistols, and the skill and courage requisite to make good use of them on any and every possible occasion. He had not, good, easy old man, the remotest idea tiiat it had come to pass at length that it was of far more unportance, even in Ireland, for the aspirant after forensic distinction to be master of the contents of dry and crabbed tomes of legal lore than to be the most formidable "crack shot" of the day. He was bhssfully ignorant, in short, of the important fact that his bfe had glided on into a dull jsrosaic age, when even the fate of Irish elections was wont to be decided without the occurrence of a single "alfairof honour " between either the rival candidates or their counsel, or any of their supporters, and when a man might become the most prominent of Irish politicians without having once in his whole life pulled a hair-trigger in anger. To return to O'ConneU. Perhaps, if at this period of his life he had seen before him the certainty of affluence independent of his own exertions, he might have sunk into ignoble sloth. Something like this happened in the case of a talented bar- rister named Collis, with whom our hero was intimate during the early portion of his career at the bar. This Collis, in 1800, wrote an anti-union pamphlet, in which he predicted that the ruin of Ire- land would result from that baleful mea- sure, i^terwards, in 1826, he insisted that things had turned out just as he had foretold. O'ConneU, in speaking o£ CoUis, described hitn as " a clever fellow. He had talent enough to have made a figure at the bar, if it had not been for the indolence induced by his comfortable property. His wife was a ]^>Iiss Rashleigh, an uncommonly beautiful woman. He and I went circuit together. Going down to the Munster circuit by the Tullamore boat, we amused ourselves on deck firing pistols at the elms along the canal. There was a small party of soldiers on board, and one of them authoritatively desired us to stop our firing. " ' Ah, corporal, don't be so cruel,' said Collis, still firing away. " ' Are you a corjjoral?' asked I. He STirlily replied in the alhrma,tive. " ' Then, friend,' said I, ' you must have got yourself reduced to the ranks by mis- conduct, for I don't see the V's upon your sleeve.' This raised a laugh at his expense, and he slunk off to the stem quite chap-fallen." On the occasion of this Counsellor CoUis's marriage with the beautiful and rich co-hekess, Miss Eashleigh. the perpetrators of pims were guilty of an indifferent one enough. They ■said, "that he had been a longtime think- ing of marrying, and at last he married ' Eashleigh.^ " Among O'Connell's earlier contempo- raries was a young barrister, who on one occasion was retained as counsel against a cow-stealer. He burst into a vehement denunciation of the rogue, who had branded his own name on the horns of the stoleb cow. The closing words of the peroration of the advocate's harangue were a singularly happy instance of uncon- scious burlesque: — " If, my lord, the cow were a cow of any feeling, how could she bear to have such a name branded on her horns?" It was Bully Egan, I believe, who in those days uttered a sentence of magni- ficently-audacious nonsense that can hardly be paralleled, not to say surpassed, even in the speeches of our old friend, " Mine Ancient Pistol." Interrupted on some occasion or other by one of the THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 12^ opposing counsel, who happened to have black eyebrows and a hot temper, Egan turned on him mth a glare of theatric ■fierceness, and exclaimed, — " I would have my learned friend to know that, in the fulfihnent of my sacred duty to my client, I am not the man to be intimidated by the dark obhvion of a brow." " Egan," whispered one of his colleagues beside liim, eagerly plucking at his gown, " what the devil do you mean? Sure, that's infernal nonsense you're taUiing." "I know it is," says Egan, answering the '•a,w/c" speech of his friend in another of the sublimest effronteiy, " but it is good enough for a jury!" Some of my readers will be astonished to learn that Daniel O'Connell became a member of the society of Free and Accepted Masons in the year 1799. His lodge met in Dublin, and consisted of one himdrcd and eighty-nine members. O'ConneU was, it appears, master of the lodge. He writes thus about this passage of his life: — "It is true, I was a Free- mason and master of a lodge. It was at a very early period of my life, and either before an ecclesiastical censure had been published in the Catholic Church in Ire- land prohibitmg the taking of the Masonic oaths, or at least before I was aware of that censure. Freemasonry in Ireland may be said to have (apart from its oaths) no evil tendency, save so far as it may counteract the exertions of those most laudable and useful institutions, the Tem- perance Societies. The important objec- tion is the profane taking in vain the awful name of the Deity in the wanton and multiplied oaths — oaths administered on the book of God — ^without any ade- quate motive." Of course, O'Connell after a time left the Masonic body. A Mason, speaking of this withdrawal, uses language wliich is another fine specimen of unconscious burlesque: — "A dark hour came upon him, and he shunned the hght." The following entertaining piece of autobiography is given by Mr. O'Neill Daunt in page 148 of the second volume of his amusing Personal Recollections of (yComicU:— " In the wint«r of 1801," said O'Con- nell, " I had been supping at the Free- masons' Hotel, at the corner of Golden Lane, with a jovial party. We were returning home late, after having drunk a good stoup of claret, when a fire broke out in a timber-yard, and spread rapidly. I was provoked at the awkwardness of a fellow who was beating the ground with a pickaxe, but making no progress in gettmg at the water-pipes. I shouldered him away, seized the pickaxe, and soon got at the plug ; but, instead of stopping then, I kept workmg away con amore, and woiUd soon have disturbed the paving- stones all over the street if -I had not been prevented. There was a large crowd. Sheriff Macready (an old auctioneer) kept order, with the aid of a party of the Buckingham militia. I was rather an unruly customer, being a little under the influence of a good batcli of claret ; and on my refusing to desist from picking up the street, one of the soldiers ran a bayonet at me, which was intercepted by the cover of mj^ limiting- watch. If I had not had the watch, there was an end of the Agitator." " Yes," said Mr. Daunt, after he had listened to the Liberator's relation of this anecdote, " but Ireland would have had other agitators. A country so aggrieved could not have lacked patriot leaders, though they might not have agitated prudently or wisely." " Wisely ! " echoed O'Connell. " ^^^^ly, when I took the helm I found all the Catholics full of mutual jealousies ; one man trying to outrival another ; one meet- ing rivalling another; the leaders watch- ing to sell themselves at the highest penny sold himself. WouLfe sold him- self — sold himself, and no doubt at a marvellous price." O'Connell, long after he got to the head of Irish affairs, remarked to a Father Barry of Clare, on that gentleman's expressing surprise at the appomtment to office of certain place-hunters, who, to judge from their utter insignificance, were miserable bargains for the British Govern- ment to think of buying: — "My dear friend, you have no idea what carrion finds a ready sale in the markets of cor- ruption." As you travel from Killarney to Mil- street, on the left-hand side of the road stands the farm of Lisnababie. Pointing this out to a friend, O'Connell once exclaimed, — "I may say with honest pride that I was a good help to keep that farm in the hands of its rightful owner, Lalor of Killamey. I was yet very young at the bar when Jerry Connor (the attorney concerned for Lalor) gave 124 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. tne two ten-guinea fees in the Lisnababie case. Lalor remonstrated with Connor, stating that the latter had no right to pay so expensive a comphment out of his money to so young a barrister. This was at a very early period of the cause, which was tried in Dublin before Sir Michael Smith ; but a motion being made in court to dismiss Lalor's bill, I rose and com- bated it so successfully that Sir Michael Smith particularly complimented me; and Lalor wrote to Jerry Connor, saying that I gave him the full woi-th of his money, and desiring (what indeed was a mat- ter of course) that I shoiild be retained for the assizes. We were finally suc- cessful, and I had the chief share in the triumph." O'Connell received a whimsical com- jiliment from a client a few mouths after he commenced practising at the bar. After ouf hero liad succeeded in obtain- iug his acquittal, the fellow took the first opportunity of saying to him with great enthusiasm, — "I have no way here to shew your honour my gratitude, but I wish to God I saw you knocked down in my own parish, and maybe I wouldn't bring a faction to rescue you! Whoop! Long life to your honour !" O'Connell was, it may easily be believed, immensely amused at this singular demonstration of gratitude. I shall conclude this chapter with a curious story told by O'Connell, which presents a vivid picture of the corruption Avhich polluted the judicial bench towards the close of the last century. O'Connell, on one of his political tours, after break- fasting at Fermoy, in the county Cork, was passing the bridge at ]\Ioorepark. He said to his friend, Mr. Daunt, — " There is a story connected with this place v/hich shews how the law was administered in Ireland some seventy or eighty years ago. I tliink Lord Annaly Avas the judge who figured in it; but as I am not quite sure, I don't like to attach a discreditable tale to his name without stating my uncei-tainty on this point. He was coming to the Cork assizes, where he was to try a heavy record, involving the right of ;i gentleman named Nagle to a large estate. This bridge did not then exist, and the road descending to the ford was of course a great deal steeper than it is at present, and you see it is bad enough now. The judge's carriage was encoun- tered in the stream by a large drove of bullocks, and considerable delay arose to his progress from the crowded and unruly animals. He bore it in silence for a few minutes; but at length, impatient of the continued impediment, he angrily called out to the driver of the herd, — ' Halloo, friend! make way there at once. How dare you stop me? ' ' I can't help it, sir,' returned the bullock-driver ; I 'm obeying the orders of my master, Mr. Nagle, who ordliered me to drive these beasts to ' (naming Lord Annaly's residence in another county). On this annoucement his lordship's ire softened down consi- derably. He inquired lolio Mr. Nagle, the ov/ner of the bullocks, was ; and having satisfied himself that the drove were intended by that gentleman as a douceur for his lordship pre\dously to the pending trial, he awaited the clearance of the passage in philosoiihic silence. When the trial came on he took excellent care to secure a verdict in favour of Nagle. On his return to his own abode after the circuit had closed, the first question he asked was ' where the drove of bullocks were?' But bullocks, alas! there were none I Nagle had fairly bit the judge. The fact was, that his cause had been dis- posed of at an early period of the Cork assizes; and seeing no utility in giving away his bullocks for a verdict which was now secured, he despatched an express, who overteok the drover within six miles of the judge's residence, and ordered him to countermarch. Here is another story for you : — The noted Denis O'Brien had a record at Nenagh : the judge had talked of purchasing a set of carriage-horses, and Denis accordingly sent him a magni- ficent set, hoping they would answer his lordship, etc., etc. The judge graciously accepted the horses, and praised their points extravagantly, and. what was more important for Denis, he charged the jury in his favom- and obtained a verdict for him. The instant Denis gained his point he sent in a bill to the judge for the full value of the horses. His lordship called Denis aside to expostulate privately with him. ' Oh, IVIr. O'Brien,' said he, ' I did not think you meant to charge me for those horses ! Come now, my dear friend, why should I pay you for them? ' ' Upon my word, that's curious talk,' retorted Denis in a tone of defiance ; ' I 'd like to know why your lordship should not pay me for them? ' To this inquiry of course a reply was impossible ; all the judge had THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 125 for it was to hold his peace and pay the money."* CHAPTER VI. Theobald "Wolfe Tone and the " United Irishmen "— Peep-o"-Day Boys and Defenders— Orange Atroci- ties — Tone in Cantry Bay — Injustice and Tyranny of Lord Camden's Government — Secession of Grattan and His Friends from the House of Commons — O'Connell's Comments on this Step- Military Violence and Orange Outrage—" United Irishmen's" Plan of Organization— The Texel Ex- pedition — " Free Quarters "— Arrests at Bond's House- Death of Lord Edward Fitzgerald — The Informers. Secret and Open— Eebellion of '9S — Horrors: Floggings, Butcheries, and Executions — John P. Curran Defends the " United Irishmen " — Landing of the French— Death of Wolfe Tone and others— The Union — Clare and Castlereagh — Daniel O'Connell's First Appearance on the Political Stage as an Orator — His Anti-Union Speech — Henry Grattan's Sudden Re-appearance in Parliament — His Fierce Invective against Corry — Duel between Grattan and Corry — Grat- tan's Ant -Union Speeches— The Union Carried by Corruption and Jlilitiry Intimidation — Insur- rection of 1803 — O'Conuell a Yeoman— Robert Emmett's Speech in the Dock — His Execution — The Fate of Thomas Russell- O'Connell's Opiniou of Emmett's Attempt— Severe Measures of Repres- sion after 1S03 — Evil Results of the Union, prepare for us, and three, or perhaps four days more before we could arrive at Cork ; and we are now too much reduced in all respects to make the attempt with any prospect of success. So all is over ! * * * Notwithstanding all our blunders, it is the dreadful stormy weather and easterly winds, which have been blowing furiously and without intermission since we made Bantry Bay, that have ruined us. Well, England has not had such an escape since the Spanish Armada, and that expedition, like ours, was defeated by the weather ; the elements fight against us, and courage is here of no avail. Well, let me think no more about it ; it is lost, and let it go." On the 26th, also, several vessels, in- cluding the "Indomptable," dragged their anchors, and it was not without great difficulty that they rode out the gale. In short, the state of the squadron on the 27th was such that Commodore Bedout (a good seamaii, according to Tone) made signal to get under way. A delay was caused by the cii'cumstanco that one of the ships required an hour to get ready. During this hour a council THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 133 of war was held, consisting of the prin- cipal military officers, including Tone himseK and Commodore Bedout, who waS invited to assist. It was agreed at this council, that the numbers and resources of the expedition being so grievously reduced, '• this part of the country being utterly wild and savage, furnishing neither provisions nor horses, and especially as the enemy — having seven days' notice, together with three more which it would requu-e to reach Cork, supposing we even met with no obstacle — had time more than sufficient to assemble his forces in numbers sufficient to crush our little army; considering, moreover, that this province is the only one of the four which has testified no disposition to revolt; that it is the most remote from the party which is ready for insurrection ; and. finally. Captain Bedout having com- municated his instructions, which are to mount as high as the Shannon, and cruise there five days, — it was unanmiously agreed to quit Bantry Bay directly, and proceed for the mouth of the Shannon, in hopes to rejoin some of our scattered companions ; and when we are there we will determine, according to the means in our hands, what part we shall take. I am the more content Avith this determination as it is substantially the same with the paper which I read to General Cherin and the rest the day before yesterday." I^ot without difficulty the squadron managed to get out of Bantry Bay. After some very stonny weather, tlie commodore, finding that there was no chance of the fleet re-assembling off the coast of Ireland (indeed, on the 28th, several vessels parted company with liim, this being the sixth separation), made the signal to steer for France On the 1st of January, 1797, the squadron, consisting of only seven sail, reached the island of Ushant. Tone makes this suggestive re- mark: — " I am utterly astonished that we — only 25 voting for it, while 11^5 voted against it. During December, '96, and the early months of '97, several districts of Ulster were proclaimed under the Insurrection Act. The terrible reign of martial law had commenced. General Lake was dragooning the people. Vainly Grattan uttered eloquent protests in behalf of justice sxnd reform, and maintamed that the Government severities only increased the influence of the " United Irishmen." He concluded his speech and the debate thus: — "We have offered you our mea- sure; you will reject it. We dejDrecate yours ; you will persevere. Having no hopes left to persuade or dissuade, and having discharged our duty, we shall trouble you no more, and, after this day, shall not attend the House of Commons." Filled with despair of effecting any further good for their country in that corrupt and venal assembly, Grattan and Lord Henry Fitzgerald refused to allow themselves to be re-elected for DubUn at the next general THE LIFE OF DAXIEL O CONNELL. 135 election. Curran, Arthur O'Connor, and Lord Edward Fitzgerald adopted a similiar course. When Tone heard of this secession, he observed in his jour- nal: — "I see those illustrious patriots are at last forced to bolt out of the House of Commons, and come amongst the people, as John Keogh advised Grattan to do long since." Arthur OX'onner and Lord Edward, indeed, speedily joined the "United Irishmen;" but Grattan, Curran, and Lord Henry Fitzgerald kept aloof from them. Accordingly, while some, like Mr. O'ConneU, blame them for seceding at all, others blame them because, having taken that step, they didn't go further, and join the "United Irishmen." J\Ir. ]Mitchel, for various reasons, which are certainly not without weight, hesitates to blame them for not doing so. Possibly many wiU consider his views on this question the most just of any. O'Connell's disapproval of this step was expressed in a conversation with Mr. O'Xeill Daunt in the year 1843. I may as well give the conversation here : — " It was a false move," said O'Connell; " a bad copy of a worse precedent. Fox and seventy other members had quitted the British House before." " Then- Irish imitators," said Mr. Daunt, " quitted the only place where they could have been of the least use ; for they had then no popular organization out of doors to faU back ujion." "None." rejoined O'Connell, "except an organization of treason. Grattan could use liberty of speech in the House, Avhich he could not then use out of doors." "Apropos of quitting Parliament," said Mr. Daunt; "you blame that step — ^yet have not you yourself quitted Parhament this session, just because you are as hope- less of good from it as Grattan and Fox were on previous occasions ? " "Ay; but I have not quitted the Imperial ParUament as a secession, but merely because I preferred out - door political labour. I have not said or done anything to bar my returning thitl.er at any moment that such a step should appear to be of the least use." To return to the year 1797. Every day the state of Ireland became more hoiTible. The revived Momii/;/ Star, because its directors did not print, in obedience of military command, an article reflecting on the loyalty of the people of Belfast, was now violently suppressed. A detachment of soldiers marched out of the barracks, attacked the prmting-office, and made a total wreck of the whole con- cern, smashing the presses, scattermg the types, and seizing the books. This was the final eclipse of the Morning Star Military violence from this time forth had full swing. It was assumed that the disaffec- tion was too deeply rooted to yield to the ordinary rule of law. In May, Lord Carhampton j'^'^'^^is^^d the following order: — "In obedience to the order of the Lord-lieutenant in council, it is the commander-in-chief's command that the military do act without waiting for direc- tions from the civil magistrates in dispers- ing any timaultuous or unlawful assemblies of persons threatening the peace of the realm, and the safety of the lives and pro- perties of His j\Iajesty's loyal subjects, wheresoever collected." Thus, to use the words of the infamous Castlereagh, '• means were taken to make the ' United Irish ' system explode.*' The pamphlet entitled Views of the Present State of Ire- land, published in '97, in London (no printer in Ireland dared publish it), and reprinted by the author of The lives of the United Irishmen, gives numerous instances of the atrocities perpetrated under the military despotism that then raged tliroughout the length and breadth of Ireland. In May, a party of Essex Fen- cibles and Ennisldllen Yeoman Infantry came to Farmer Potter's house, five miles from Enniskdlen, in the county Fer- managh, to arrest him on the charge cf being a " United Irishman." "To be a ' United Irishman,'" says his vidfe boldly, "is an honom-, not a dis- grace. But my husband went from home yesterday on business; he has not yet returned." "If your husband doesn't surrender himself within three hours, we 'U burn his house." Such was the reply of the ruffian soldiery. "I do not exactly know," rejoins Mrs. Potter, "where he now is, but even if I did know, I believe it would be impos- sible to have him home in so short a time.'''' The three hours had not expired when the miscreants set fire to the house, which is comparatively new and neat. The servants bring out whatever property they tliink it possible to save, but the soldiers fling everything back into the flames. The loss may be estimated at 136 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O'CONNELL. about £700 sterling. Mrs. Potter aud her seven children, one not a month old, are driven out into the fields at the hour of midnight. In June, the Ancient Britons (Welsh Fencibles, commanded by Sir Watkin William Wynne), searching in vain for arms in the liouse of Mr. Rice, innkeejier of the town of Coolavil, Armagh county, hear some country-peo]-)le talking Irish as they sit drinking. The soldiers damn their ^'eternal Irish souls" insist that their talk is treasonous, fall upon them with their swords, and wound several desper- ately. Miss Rice's life is despaired of; her father barely escapes, having received many sabre-cuts. In June, too, the house and extensive property of Mr. M'Cormick, an innkeeper of Newtonards, county Down, were burned, because he denied having any knowledge of certain persons, who were alleged to have been overheard uttering seditious words in his house. Among other outrages in this tovt^n and barony, the house of Dr. Jackson was torn down, on suspicion of his being a "United Irish- man.'" In the same month similar destructive acts were committed in Bel- fast. Some fencibles, accompanied by the First Fermanagh Yeomanry, issued forth from the town of Enniskillen and marched into an adjoining county. At two in the morning they arrived at Farmer Durnian's house. They break it open without any warnmg. Then one of the fencibles dis- charges his musket through the roof of the house, and an officer fires his pistol into a bed where two young men are lying, wounding both. One of these, Durnian's only child, faint with loss of blood, rises with difficulty. A fencible thrusts his bayonet through his bowels. His frantic mother runs to support him, but sinks to earth, covered with the blood of her hapless son. Another fencible deliberately kneels down and presents his musket at the other youth, who is now on his knees imploring mercy and pro- testing his innocence. lie is about to fall a victim to the assassin's deadly aim, when a sergeant of yeomanry rushes in and forcibly prevents his murder. Some of those present are amused at the sergeant's soft-heartedness. Those especial military butchers, the Ancient Britons, failing to find concealed arms in a house near Newry, compensate themselves for their disappointment by setting it on fire. The surrounding peasantry, not understanding the origin of the conflagration, run together from all sides to extinguish it. As they come up they are attacked at all points by the Welsh cut-throats. Thirty are killed, including a woman and two children. An old man of seventy escaped for a few moments to some rocks close at hand. Pursued by the soldiers, he fell on his knees and piteously implored for mercy; but one of the Welsh miscreants cut ofi' his head at a single blow. The Orangemen broke into the house of Mr. Bernard Crossan, of the parish of MuUanabra.ck, because he was a reputed Catholic. They killed himself, together with his son and daughter. On the same pretence the house of Hugh M-Fay, of the parish of Seagoe, was attacked— his furniture was destroyed, himself wounded, his wife shamefully outraged. To the village of Kilrea, county Derry, at three in the morning, came a ^^ reverend magistrate, accompanied by a clergyman and a body of soldiers." These, not finding the men they came to capture, "burned all their houses, except four, which could not be burned without endangering the whole village. These they gutted^ and consumed their contents." — View of the Present State of Ireland. The ferocious John Claudius Beresford admitted shortly before this (on the 30th of March), in his place in Parliament, that he had stated " that there were certain parts of the north of Ireland in a state of concealed rebellion; and that he wished those places were rather in a state of open rebellion, that the Government might see the rebellion and crush it." The "United Irish" Society began to absorb " Defenderism " in the North. It spread elsewhere, too. Several persons were successfully defended, during the summer assizes, against charges of being "United Irishmen," by Curran, on the north-east cu-cuit. At the same time the conspiracy was carried on with increased secresy. Owing to this, and the apparent tranquillity of the people under all their persecutions, and a partial revival of trade, the secret committee of the House of Commons seem to have been deceived into a temporary notion that the disaffec- tion was subsidmg. In reality, it was spreading fast. The fabrication of pikea was going on everywhere. Soon the THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 137 paxtizans of Government were undeceived, and saw that treason, so far from dying out, was waxing stronger than ever. The committee slanderously attributed an increase of crimes — murder of those who refused to join the " United Irish " Society, a,nd a revival of the agraiian offences of ''burning the corn and houghing the cattle of those against whom their resentment was directed" — to the spread of the " Union" conspiracy. In reality, wherever the ''United Irish- men" got a footing all those crimes diminished. Mr. Mitchel justly observes that, •' It may be laid down as universally true, that the Irish people, on the eve of an insurrection or in any violent political excitement, are always free from crime to a most exemplary extent, which is always considered an alarming symptom by the authorities." jliles BjTue, the insurgent chief, afterwards chef-de-hataillon in the service of the great Napoleon, tells us in his Memoirs, "that the good effects of the ' United Irish ' system in the commence- ment were soon felt and seen throughout the counties of Yv'exford, Carlow, and Wicklow, which were the parts of the country I knew best. It gave the Jirst alarm to the Government: they suspected something extraordinary was going ou, finding that disputes, fighting at fairs and other places of public meeting, had completely ceased. The magistrates soon perceived this change, as they were now seldom called on to grant summons or warrants to settle disputes. Drunkenness ceased also ; for an ' United Irishman ' to be found drunk was unknown for many months. * * * Such was the sanctity of our cause." Even the hostile Plowdcn admits the freedom of the United Irish- men from ordinary crimes. When the slanderous report of the connnittee was presented in the House, a "Mr. Fletcher said that if coercive measures were to be pursued, the whole country must be coerced, for the spirit of insurrection had pervaded every part of it. Mr. Beresford ordered the clerk to take down these words, and the gallery was instantly cleared. When strangers wei'e again admitted, the debate on the address still continued; and in the course of it Mr. J. Beresford thought himself called on to defend the secret committee against an assertion which had fallen from Mr. Fletcher in the course of his speech. The assertion was in substance, that he feared the people would be led to look on the report of the committee as fabricated, rather to justify the past measures of Government, than to state facts." — John ]Mitchers Continuation, vol. i., p. 246. In Lord Cloncurry's Pergonal Recollec- tions, we find a striking example of the military murders that so often, during the period under notice, were suffered to take place, to the eternal disgrace of the Government. The barony of Carbury, in the county of Kildare, was in this year (1797) brought under the provisions of the Insurrection Act, and a camp of the Frazer Fencibles, a Scotch regiment, established thei'e. One evening. Captain Frazer, the commanding officer of thiS' detachment, on his way from i\Iaynooth to his camp, passed through a district not proclaimed. He came up with an old man who was busied outside his own door mending his cart. The gallant captain, flushed with his copious after-dinner pota- tions, was in a mood of loyalty and irrita- bility at once thoroughly irrational and thoroughly \acious. He lost no time in challenging the old man for being out after sundown. He was neither in a con- dition nor temper to listen to his very reasonable excuse, that the district was not a proclaimed one, and that lie was at liis lawful business, preparing to go to the Dublin market on tlie following day. Captain Frazer took him prisoner on the spot, and caused him to mount behind his orderly. Soon they reached a turn- pike gate, and here an altercation took ])lace between the choleric votary of Mars and Bacchus and the tollkeeper. The old countryman watched his opportunity, and, while the captain was busy wrangling, he dropped down from the orderly's horse and made off in the direction of his cabin. But tlie affair, which up to this wore an air of absurdity, now became tragic, for tlie drink - infuriated captain and his orderly immediately gave chase, and hav- ing speedily overtaken the unlucky fugitive, they hacked his body with sixuoeii sabre wounds: of these nine were declared to be mortal when the coroner's inquest took place. Having accomplished this bloody and inhuman deed, the two military murderers galloped back to their camp. The coroner's inquest returned a ver- dict of " wiKul murder" against Captain Frazer ; but when a magistrate went to the camp with a warrant for his apprehen- sion, the Frazer Fencibles shewed their 138 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONIf ELL. lawless determination to protect their unworthy commander by driving away the civil functionary. Nor did an applica- tion to the commander-in-chief, Lord Carhampton, to surrender the body of the assassin, meet with greater respect or success. His Excellency coolly refused to do so. However, at the ensuing assizes Frazer went to the county town of Kil- dare, and gave himself up. He had the monstrous ^Trontery to ride into the town in a sort of triumphant fashion, with a band playing before him. But if his impudence or audacity was outrageous, that of the judge who tried him was more outrageous still. The Sohcitor-general, the infamous Toler, afterwards Earl of Norbury, was on this occasion acting judge of assize. In the teeth of facts and proofs, so clearly brought home to the prisoner as to leave not the slenderest shadow of a doubt as to his guilt, the corrupt and sanguinary buffoon on the bench directed the jury to acquit him. The judicial jester's strange address on this occasion almost defies belief, that any one in the position of a judge coidd, even in those all-evil times, deliver a charge to a jury so utterly senseless and iuliuman. He said that " Frazer was a gallant officer, who had only made a mistake; that if Dixon was a good man, as he was repre- sented to be, it was well for him to be out of this wicked world; but if he was as bad as many others in the neighbour- hood, it was well for the country to be quit of him." During the summer of this year the " United Irish " organization spread vigorously through almost every county of the province of Leinster. It was strong in Dublin, Kildare, Meath, Westmeath, the King's County, and Carlow. There were many in the province of Munster sworn in too. But Ulster was the " Union's" greatest place of strength still. It has been frequently stated that the gallant county of Wexford, which bore the brunt of most of the hard fighting when the insurrection at last broke out, was at tliis period the most backward county of Leinster in the organization; in fact, that the Wexford men in the ranks of the " United Irish" societj"- were so few in number, up to the close of 1797, as not to be included in the returns of the organized counties in February. Yet this statement must be to a greater or less degree exaggerated. Colonel Miles Byrne was sworn in a " United Irish- man" in the summer of '97. Speaking of the Wexford people, he says: — "Before a month had elapsed, almost every one had taken the test;" also, — "We soon organized parochial and baronial meetings, and named delegates to correspond with the county members. Robert Graham of Corcannon, a cousin of my mother's, was named to represent the county at the meeting to be held in Dublin, at Oliver Bond's." Again, he says: — "Nothing could exceed the readiness and good-will of the United Irishmen to comply with the instructions they had received to pro- cure arms, ammunition, etc., notwith- standing the difficulties and perils they underwent in purchasing those articles. Pikes were easily had at this time, for almost every blacksmith was a United Irishman. Tlie pike-blades were soon had, but it was more difficult to procure poles for them ; and the cutting down of young ash trees for that purpose awoke great attention, and caused great suspicion of the object in view." In the report of the secret committee of the House of Lords we have a precise account of the United Irishmen's plan of organization. They had now become a military body. " It appears to your committee that the organization, as it is called, by which the Directory of the Irish Union was enabled to levy a revolutionary army, was com- pleted in the province of Ulster on the 10th of May, 1795 ; that the scheme of extending it to the other provinces was adopted at an early period by the Irish Directory; but it does not appear that it made any considerable progress beyond the northern province before the autumn of 1796, when emissaries were sent into the province of Leinster to propagate the system. The inferior societies, at their original institution, consisted each of thirty-six members; they were, however, afterwards reduced to twelve. These twelve chose a secretary and a treasurer, and the secretaries of five of these societies formed what was called a lower baronial committee, Avhich had the innne- diate direction and superintendence of the five societies that thus contributed to its institution. From each lower baronial committee thus constituted, one member was delegated to an upper baronial com- mittee, which in like manner assumed and exercised the superintendence and direc- THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL, 139 tion of all the lower baronial committees in the several counties. The next superior committees were, in populous towns, dis- tinguished by the name of district com- mittees, and in counties by the name of county committees, and were composed of members delegated by the upper baro- nials. Each upper baronial committee delegated one of it members to the dis- trict or county committee, and these district or coimty committees had the superintendence and direction of all the upper baronials who contributed to their institution. Having thus organized the several counties and populous towns, a subordinate directory was erected in each of the four provinces, which super- intended the county and district com- mittees in each province, and a general executive du-ectory, composed of five persons, who was elected by the pro- vincial directories; but the election was so managed that none but the secre- taries of the provincials knew on whom the election fell. It was made by ballot, but not reported to the electors: the appointment was notified only to those on whom the election devolved, and the executive dii'ectory thus composed as- sumed and exercised the supreme and uncontrolled command of the whole body of the union. "The manner of communicating the orders issued by the executive directory was peculiarly calculated to baf&e detec- tion. One member of the executive alone commimicated with one member of each provincial committee or directory. The order was transmitted by him to the seci"etary of each county or district com- mittee m his province. The secretaries of the county and distriat committees communicated with the secretaries of the upper baronials in each county; they communicated with the secretaries of the lower baronial committees, who gave the order to the secretaries of each subor- dinate committee, by whom it was given to the several inferior members of the union. It appears that the leaders and directors of this conspiracy, having com- pleted this their revolutionary system in the province of Ulster so early as the 10th of May, 1795, and having made con- siderable progress in establishing it in the autumn and winter of 17'J6 in the pro- vince of Leinster, proceeded at that period to convert it into a military shape and form for the undisguised project of rebel- lion. * * * It appears tliat the military organization, as they termed it, was grafted on the civil ; that the secretary of each subordinate society, composed of twelve, was appointed their petty or non- commissioned officer; that the delegate of five societies was commonly appointed captain of a company, composed of the five societies who had so delegated him, and who made up the number of sixty privates; and that the delegate of ten lower baronials to the district committee was commonly appointed colonel of a battalion, which was thus composed of six hundred men; that the colonels of battiilions in each county sent in the names of three persons to the executive directory of the union, one of whom was appointed by them adjutant-general of the county, whose duty it was to receive and communicate military ordei's from the executive to the colonels of battalions, and in general to act as officers of the revolutionary staff. In addition to this establishment, it appears that a military committee was appointed (at a later period), by the executive directory, to pre- pare a regular plan for assisting a French army, if any such should make a landing in this kingdom, by directing the national military force, as it was called, to co- operate with them, or to form a regular plan of insurrection in case it should be ordered, without waiting for French assistance." The essential dift'erence betAveen tho " United Irish" Society and the I. R. B. of our own days was, that while the former was elective, in the latter all power came from above. 'The supreme chief appointed his centres, and they in turn their sub-centres. At least, this was the system of the I. R. B. up to '07, or possibly a little later. .ifter the failure of the Bantry Bay expedition, Hoche was appointed com- mander-in-chief of the army of tho Sambre and ]Meuse, and Theobald ^V'oKe Tone went v/ith him as adjutant-general. Shortly after, John Edward Lewineg arrived on the Continent with instruc tions from the Executive Committee of the United People of Ireland to apply to France, Holland, and Spain for assistance in men, arms, and money. He got into commimication at Hamburg with Seiior Isava, a Spanish navy officer of rank, who was tlicre on an important mission. Sehor Nava entered into his views, wrote to 140 THE LIFE OP D NIEL O CONNELL. Madrid, and received an answer in general terms, but of a favourable nature. How- ever, France and Holland were powers in a better position to give immediate and practical assistance than Spain. Tone was anxious to impress on his friend and commander, General Hoche, " the neces- sity of an immediate exertion in order to profit by the state of mutiny and absolute disorganisation in which the English navy" is at this moment ; in which Lewines heartily concurred; and we both observed that it icafi not a strong military force that we wanted at this moment, but arms and ammunition, with troops sufficient to serve as a noyau (Tarmee (a kernel of an nrmy), and protect the people in their first assembling; adding, that five thou- sand men sent now, when the thing was feasible, would be far better than twenty- five thousand in three months, when per- hap&we might find ourselves again blocked up in Brest harbour; and I besought the general to remember that the mutiny aboard the English fleet would most cer- tainly be soon quelled, so that there was not a moment to lose ; that if we were lucky enough to arrive in Ireland before that took place, I looked upon it as morally certain that, by proper means, we might gain over the seamen, who have already spoken of steering the fleet iiito the Irish harbours, and so settle the business, perhaps withovit striking a blow." Tone here referred to the famous mutiny of the Nore. Hoche agreed with Tone's opin- ions, and shewed him a letter containing an assurance from the French Directory " that they >vould make no peace with England wherein the interests of Ireland should not be fully discussed, agreeably to the wishes of the people of that country." He added, however, a piece of intelligence which made it appear that the second great expedition for the deliverance of Ireland was, after all, likely to sail from Holland. He said " that preparations were making also in Holland for an expedition, the particulars of which he would communicate to us in two or three days, and in the m^an time desired us to attend him to — "tlune 24th. Colof/ne, for which place we set off; arrived the 24th. "June 25th. At nine o'clock at night the general sent us a letter from General Daendels, commander-in-chief of the army of the Batavian Republic." This letter told Hoche that the army and na%7 were ready for the descent on Ireland, and in the highest spirits ; that the com- mittee for foreign affairs desired to see him without loss of time, and also desired to see the deputy of the Irish people. Hoche at once sent off Tone and Lewines to wait for him at The Hague. I resume Tone's journal:— "June 27th. The Hague, where we ar- rived accordingly, having travelled day and night. In the evening we went to the Comedie, where we met the general in a sort of public incognito — that is to say. he had combed the poAvder out of his hair, and was in a plain regimental frock. After the play, we followed him to his lodgings at the Lion d'Or, where he gave us a full detail of what was pre- paring in Holland. He began by telling us that the Dutch' governor-general, Daendels, and Admiral de Winter were sincerely actuated by a desire to effec- tuate something striking to rescue their country from that state of oblivion and decadence into which it had fallen ; that, by the most indefatigable exertions on their part, they had got together at the Texel sixteen sail of the line and eight or ten frigates, all ready for sea and in the highest condition ; that they intended to embark fifteen thousand men, the whole of their national troops, three thousand stand of arms, eighty pieces of artillery, and money for their pay and subsistence for three months; that he had the best opinion of the sincerity of all parties, and of the courage and conduct of the general and admiral; but that here was the diffi- culty: the French Government had de- manded that at least five thousand French troops, the elite of the army, should be embarked, instead of a like number of Dutch : in which case, if the demand was acceded to, he would himself take the command of the united army, and set off for the Texel directly; but that the Dutch Government made great difficulties, alleg- ing a variety of reasons, of which some were good; that they saw the French troops would never submit to the dis- cipline of the Dutch navy, and that in that case they could not pretend to enforce it on their own without making unjust distinctions and giving a reasonable ground for jealousy and discontent to their army. 'But the fact is,' said Hoche, 'that the Committee, Daendels and De Winter, are anxious that the Batavian republic should have the whole glory of THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 141 the expedition, if it succeeds. They feel that their country has been forgotten in Europe, and they are risking everything, even to their last stake — for if tliis fails, they are ruined — in order to restore the ' national character. The demand of the French Government is now before the committee. If it is acceded to, I will go myself, and at all events I will present ] you both to the committee, and we will probably then settle the matter definitely.' Both Lewines and I now found ourselves in a considerable difliculty. On the one side it was an object of the greatest im- portance to have Iloche and his five thou- sand grenadiers ; on the other, it was most unreasonable to propose anything which coidd hm't the feelings of the Dutch people at a moment when they were making unexampled exertions in our favour, and risking, as Hoche hunself said, their last ship and last shilling to emancipate us. I cursed and swore like a dragoon. It went to my very heai-fs blood and midriff to give up the general and our brave lads, three thousand of whom I would prefer to any ten thou- sand in Europe. On the other hand, I could not but see that the Dutch were perfectly reasonable in the desire to have the reputation of an affair prepared and arranged entirely at their expense — and at such an expense ! I did not know what to say. Lewines, however, extri- cated himself and me with considerable address. After stating very well oar diffi- culty, he asked Hoche whether he thought that Daeudels would serve under his orders, and, if he refused, what effect that might have on the ' Batavian troops. I will never forget the magnanimity of Hoch on the occasion. He said he believed Daendels woidd not, and therefore that the next morning he would withdraw the demand with regard to the French troops, and leave the Dutch Government at per- fect liberty to act as they thought proper. When it is considered that Hoche has a devouring passion for fame; that his great object, on which he has endea- voured to'establish his reputation, is the destruction of the power of England; that he has for two years, in a great degree, devoted himself to our business, and made the greatest exertions, including our memorable expedition, to emancipate us; that he sees at last the business likely to be accomplished by another, and of course all the glory he had promised to himself ravished from him ; when, in ad- dition to all this, it is considered that he could by a word's speaking prevent the possibility of that rival's moving one step, and find at the same time plaus- ible reasons sufficient to justify his own conduct, — I confess liis renouncing the situation which he might connnand is an effort of very great virtue. It is true, he is doing exactly Avhat an honest man and a good citizen ought to do — he is prefer- rmg the interests of his country to his own private views. That, however, does not prevent my regarding his conduct in this instance with great admiration, and I shall never forget it. This important dif- ficulty being removed, after a good deal of general discourse on our business, we parted late, perfectly satisfied with each other, and having fixed to wait on the committee to-morrow in the forenoon. All reflections made, the present arrange- ment, if it has ifs dark, has its bright sides also — of which more hereafter." On the 28th of June, at 10 a.m., Gen- eral Hoche, Tone, and Lewines went to the committee for foreign affairs. General Daendels was present. Hoche, pursuant to his promise to Tone the night before, did everything to smooth matters. He even withdrew the demands of the French (lOvernment. Tone says: — "It was easy to see the most lively satisfaction on all their faces at this declaration of General Hoche, which certainly does him the greatest honour. General Daendels especially was beyond measure delighted. They told us then that they hoped all v.'ould be ready in a fortnight; and Hahn (one of the committee) observed, at the same time, that, as tliere was an English .squadron which appeared almost ev^ry day at the mouth of the Texel, it was very much to be desired that the Brest fleet sliould, if possible, put to sea, in order to draw off at least a part of tlie British fleet, because, from the position of the Texel, the Dutch fleet was liable to be attacked in detail in saihng out of the port; and even if they beat the enemy, it would not be possible for them to proceed, as they must return to refit. To this General Hoche replied, that the French flcet'could not, he understood, be ready before two months, which put it out of the question ; and as to the necessity of returning to re- fit, he observed, that during the last war the British and French fleets had often fought, both in the East and West Indies, 142 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. and kept the seas after; all that was necessary being to have on board the necessary articles of rechange; besides, it was certainly the business of the Dutch fleet to avoid an action by all possible means. General Daendels observed, that Admiral de Winter desired nothing better than to measure himself with the enemy ; but we all — that is to say. General Iloche, Lewines, and myself — cried out against it, his only business being to bring his convoy safe to its destination. A mem- ber of the committee — I believe it was Van Leyden — then asked us, supposing everything succeeded to our Avish, what was the definite object of the Irish people? To which we replied, categorically, that it was to throw off the yoke of England, break for ever the connection now exist- ing with that country, and constitute our- selves a free and independent people. They all expressed their satisfaction at this reply; and Van Leyden observed, that he had travelled through Ireland, and, to judge from the luxury of the rich and the misery of the poor, no country in Europe had so crying a necessity for a revolution. To which Lewines and I replied, as is most religiously the truth, that one great motive of our conduct in this business was the conviction of the wretched state of our peasantiy, and the determination, if possible, to amend it." It was arranged at this meeting of the Dutch committee of foreign affairs, in a manner the most flattering to Wolfe Tone, that he was to accompany the expedition from the Texel. He was to have the same rank with the Dutch that he held in the French service. Mr. Mitchel, commenting on these events, says justly: — "The muta- tions of history are sometimes strange.. Here, in 1797, we find the Dutch nation preparing for a grand national effort to liberate and redeem the very same people whom a century before it had so power- fully contributed, with the Prince of Orange and its ' Dutch Blues,' to hurl prostrate at the feet of this very England which the Dutch republic was now so eager to overthrow." In a memoir intended for tlie French Government, and entrusted to Dr. Mac Neven, one of the principal leaders of the "United Irishmen," which mysteriously fell into the hands of the British authori- ties in Ireland, through the skilful agency of their spy-system on the Continent, we find that about this tioae there were 150,000 United Irishmen organized and enrolled in Ulster, a great part of them regimented, and one-thuxl ready to march out of the province. The memoir also stated that the organization was progres- sing in Cork, and that Bandon was- another Belfast; thatTyi-one, Fermanagh, and Monaghan were among the counties best affected to the cause; that the places best organized were Louth, Armagh, Westmeath, King's County, and the City of Dublin; that if the object were to take Cork, the foreign auxiliary force should disembark at Oyster Haven ; that, in the North, Lough Swilly and Kdlebes were good landing-places, and that the Donegal people woidd join the French. The memoir also spoke of the lively feelmgs of gratitude the Irish had to- wards France and Spain, and of many other most important matters. In Tone's diary we find the following noteworthy passage: — "I took occasion to speak (with Hoche) on a subject which had weighed very much upon my mind — I mean the degree of influence which the French might be disposed to arrogate to themselves in Ireland, and which I had great reason to fear would be greater than we might choose to allow them. In the Gazette of that day there was a pro- clamation of Bonaparte's, addressed tcv the Government of Genoa, which I thought most grossly improper and in- decent, as touching on the indispensable rights of the people. I read the most obnoxious passages to Hoche, and ob- served that if Bonaparte commanded in Ireland, and were to publish there so in- discreet a proclamation, it woiild have a most ruinous effect, that in Italy such dictation might pass, but never in Ireland, where we understood our rights too well to submit to it. Hoche answered me, ' I understand you, but you may be at ease in that respect ; Bonaparte has been my scholar, but he shall never be my master.' He then laimched out into a very severe critique on Bonaparte's conduct, which certainly has latterly been terribly indis- creet, to say no worse of it, and observed that, as to his victories, it was easy to gain victories Avith such troops as he com- manded, especially when the general made no difficulty to sacrifice the lives of his soldiers, and that these victories had cost the republic two hundred thousand men. A great deal of what Hoche said was very true ; but I could see at the bottom of it THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 14.'? a very great jealousy of Bonaparte. I am also sorry to see the latter losing so fast that spirit of moderation which did him as much honour at first as his victories. Hoche and I then talked of our own "business: he said we must calculate on being opposed at the landing by eight or ten thousand men; that if they were not there so much the better, but we must expect them; that the British would pro- bably act as they did in America last war — retreat and Ijurn the 'towns behind them; that. he did not desire more than twelve, or, at most, fifteen thousand troops, and had made his arrangements so that the maintenance of that force should not cost the Irish people above 12,000,000 livres, equal to £Q00,000 ster- ling." Tone and his friends were treated with the greatest possible attention by the Dutch authorities. What was more im- portant, the greatest zeal was shewn in hunying on the preparations for the grand expedition. Indeed, the Dutch Governn:ient on this occasion were, in the familiar but expressive language of General Hoche, "like a man stripped to his breeches, who has one shilling left, ■which he throws in the lottery in the hope of being able to buy a coat." At last, on the 8th of July, we find Tone at the Texel and on board Admiral de Winter's ship, the " Yrj'heid," a superb vessel of seventy-four guns. He is on the best terms both with General Daen- ■dels and the. Admiral — highly pleased with both. He says, "There is a frank- ness and candour in their manners which is highly interesting." He finds, too, that the best possible spiiit reigns in both soldiers and sailors. The vessels are " in very fine condition, incomparably better than the fleet at Brest." At first his hopes are high. But, alas ! some malignant fate, just as in the Bantry Bay expedition, seemed to take pleasure in bafiiing those generous hopes at the very moment when all diffi- culties appeared on the point of vanishing and the promise of triumph sure. Ad- verse winds set in steadily, continuing for weeks. During July and August the supplies on board the wind-bound fleet became exhausted. The English admiral, Duncan, was reinforced too. Like a curbed steed Tone chafes. Sometimes he and De Winter try to kill time plajnng duets on the flute. He says the admiral plays well. In the beginning of August, Tone exclaims: — "Wind still S.W. Damn it! Damn it! I am to-day twenty-five days aboard, and at a time when twenty- five hours are of importance. There seems to be a fate in this business. Five weeks — I believe six weeks — ^the English fleet was paralyzed by the mutinies at Portsmouth, Plymouth, and the Nore. Tlie sea was open, and nothing to prevent both the Dutch and French fleets from putting to sea. Well, nothing was ready. That precious opportunity, which we can never expect to return, was lost; and now that, at least, we are ready here, the wind is against us, the mutiny is quelled, and we are sure to be attacked by a superior force. At Brest it is, I fancy, still worse. Had we been in Ireland at the moment of the insurrection of the Nore, we should, beyond a dOubt, have had at least that fleet, and God only knows the influence which such an event might have had on the whole British na^'j^. The destiny of Europe might have been changed for ever; but, as I have ah-eady said, that great occasion is lost, and we must now do as well as we can. ' Le vin est tire, ilfaut le hoire ' ('Tlie wine is drawn — it is necessary to drink it')." There was at length talk of a change of plan. Descents on the coasts of England or Scotland were proposed. Tone is in a terrible state of mind. In his diary he says: — " All I had to say was, that if the Batavian Republic sent but a corporal's guard to Ireland, I was ready to make one. So here is our expedition in a hope- fid way. It 'is most terrible. Twice within nine months has England been saved by the winds. It seems as if the very elements had conspired to perpetuate our slavery, and protect the insolence and oppression of our tyrants. What can I do at this moment? Nothing." General Daendels charges Tone, in September, with a mission to the head-quarters of the army of the Sambre and INIeusa to confer with Hoche. Tone's diary now becomes doubly melancholy, and even painful, for the gallant and generous and single-minded Hoche is dying fast:— "September 15, 16, 17.— The General's health is in a most alarming state, and nobody here seems to suspect it, at least to the extent that I do. I look on it as a moral impossibihty that he should hold out long if he persists to remain at the army, as he seems determined to do. lU THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. -As for his physician, I have no great faith in his skill, and, in short, I have the most serious alarms for his life. I should be sincerely sorry, for every reason public and private, that we should lose him. Urgent as the aflfair is on which I am here, I have found it impossible to speak to him about it, and God knows when or whether I may ever find an opportunity; which, in addition to my personal regard and love for him, is a circumstance Avhich very much aggravates my uneasiness. To-day he has been removed by four grenadiers from one chamber to another, for he is unable to walk. It is terrible to see a fine, handsome fellow, in the very flower of his youth and strength, so re- duced. My heart bleeds for him. I am told that the late attacks made on him by the royalists in the Convention, and the jour- nahsts in their pay, preyed exceedingly on his spirits, and are the probable cause of his present illness. Is it not strange that a man, who has faced death a thousand times with intrepidity in the field, should sink under the calumny of a rabble of miscreants '? •' September 18th and 19th. — My fears with regard to G-tneral Hoche were but too well founded. He died this morning at four o'clock. His lungs seemed to me quite gone. Tliis most unfortunate event has so confounded and distressed me, that I know not what to think, nor wh;it wiU be the consequences. Wrote to my wife and to General Daendels instantly." Tone now despau-ed of the Texel expe- dition, and got leave to go to Paris to join his wife and children. However, the Texel fleet was destined to fight the English, and be beaten. De Winter, in October, was suddenly ordered to put to sea, the English fleet having gone to Yar- mouth Roads to refit. Duncan hastened to sea again. The two fleets met and engaged off Camperdown on the coast of Holland, The English had the advantage in .weight of metal. The Dutch and their admiral fought with desperate bravery. When De Winter's ship struck it was a sinking wreck. The Dutch lost ten ships of the line and two frigates. Duncan was ennobled by the title of Lord Camper- down. Thus ended the Texel expedition and the naval career of Holland. Here I cannot refrain from briefly re- lating an amusing anecdote of Admiral de Winter. After the battle, he sat down to play a game of chess with Admiral Duncan, who won the game. De Winter good humouredly observed to Duncan that "it was too bad he should give him two beatings in one day." Hoche was the greatest loss to Ireland. He was an entliusiast in her cause ; be- sides, he wished to strike down England. Even when he was dying he was medi- tating fresh plans for the invasion of Ireland. Tone lost a true friend in Hoche. Bonaparte, with whom he now became acquainted, only amused him with vision- ary hopes. Soon that great warrior went off to Egypt. In St. Helena he seems afterwards to have regretted his neglect of the project for the liberation of Ireland. There too he spoke of his rival Hoche as "one of the first of French generals;" and gave it as his opinion that, if he had succeeded in landing in Ireland, he would have certainly expelled the English. I have dwelt on the details of the two great foreign expeditions for Ireland's deliverance at considerable length, be- cause I consider them peculiarly interest- ing and instructive. I must hurry over the other events connected with the history of the rebellion of '98. Pitt and his Irish auxiliary, Castlereagh, so far from desiring to prevent a rebellion, were determined that it should burst forth, in order that they might have an excuse for keeping up such a military icgime, as would enable them to carry the union by violence in conjunction with fraud and corruption. Hence, every measure that could be adopted to goad the people into insurrection was resorted' to. Judicial murders, like that of the gallant and mucli-loved William Orr, condemned on palpably perjured testimony, and whose memory was kept alive in the hearts and on the lips of all by the words, "Eemem- ber Orr!" awoke the desire of vengeance in the popular mmd. In the early part of '98 the Press newspaper, on account of a letter signed Marcus, which commented severely on Lord Camden's conduct in suffering Orr to be done to death by perjury and unheard-of treachery, was prosecuted. Father Coigley was taken, and hanged in England. Arthur O'Con- nor was arrested. General I^ake was named Commander-in-chief provision- ally. Lord Carhampton and his successor, the gallant Sir Ralph Abercrombic. had severally resigned that position — the latter because his humane nature recoiled iu disgust from the odious services required THE LIFE OF DANIEL O COXNELL. 145 at his hands; the former because, hovrever cruel he may have been, he at least de- sired to suppress the conspiracy before it burst forth into actual revolt. He even ••publicly declared that some deep and insidious scheme of the minister was in agitation, for, instead of suppressing, the Irish Government was obviously disposed to excite, an insurrection." Abercrombie, before he resigned, stated in general orders that his army, owing to its dis- organization, " would soon be much more formidable to their friends than to their enemies." Two regiments of foreign mercenaries, the ruthless and licentious Hessians, were introduced into Ireland to aid in dragooning the people. On the 30th of March. 1798, the whole coimtry was placed under martial law by procla- miition. This was the first time Wexford had been proclaimed under the " Insur- rection Act." "From that moment," Miles Bryne tells us, " everj' one con- sidered himself walking on a mine, ready to be blown up, and all sighed for orders to begin." The military had now full lincense; any officer might have recourse to any measures of repression he might deem proper. The magistrates, too, might outrage law, secured as they were by the •' Act of Indemnity." Castlereagh was determined that the rebellion should break out immediately. " Free quarters " were resorted to as a judicious means of goading the people to desperation, when they would see a licentious soldiery living in their houses and amongst their families. In the absence of their male relatives, women were now contmually forced to submit to the grossest insults and brutali- ties from the military niffians quartered^ in their homes. These were the days of free-quarters, half-hangings, picketings, pitch-capjs, floggings, house - burnings, military executions, especially in the coun- ties of Kildare, Carlow, and ^Vicklow. These were the days of the infamous torturing magistrates, Hawtry White, Solomon Kichards, and Parson Owens, the latter, above all, notorious for putting on the pitch-caji. These were the days when the still more infamous and in- human Hunter Gowan (who was, however, ultimately shot like a dog) could murder with impunity, in cold blood, his Catholic countrymen — such as poor Garret Fennell and "James Darcy, a poor inoffensive man, the father of five children." Miles Bryne tells us this, and also how "twenty- eight fathers of families were shot and massacred in the Ball Alley of Carnew without trial. Mr. Cope, the Protestant minister, was one of the principal magis- trates who presided at this execution. I knew several of the murdered men, parti- cularly Pat ^Murphy of Knockbrandon, at whose wedding I was two years before. He was a brave and worthy man, and much esteemed, '\^'illiam Young, a Pro- testant, was amongst the slaughtered." He tells us also how, "at Dunlavin, county of Wicklow, previoiis to the rising, thirty-four men were shot without any trial; officers, to their disgrace, presiding and sanctioning these proceedings." I myself remember hearing an aged coun- trjTvoman, some years ago, 'tell with what horror she gazed, in "fatal '98," on the bleeding corpses of, I think, fourteen fanners' sons, all young men, on Dunlavin green. Such was the miserable condition of parts at least of Ireland at the begin- ning of May, 1798. To maintain this terrible reign of martial law. General I^ake had now in the island a force of more than 130,000 men, including regular troops, English, Welsh, and Scotch fen- cible regiments, Irish militia, and the fell Hessians. The Orange yeomanry were among the most ferocious torturers of the people of Leinster. But while Pitt and Castlereagli desired a rebellion, in order that they might after- wards the more easily carry the Act of Union, they knew that such a policy was attended with risk. The rebellion might chance to succeed — Ireland might in the struggle shake off the yoke of England. To guard against this, in the words of the cold-blooded Castlereagh himself, "mea- sures were taken by Government to cause its premature explosion." Then disunion was stirred up among the patriots by means of lies and calumnies and forgeries —some of which remind us of "the miser- able man Barry's" false charges against the so-called "Fenians," who were arrested in Dublin in '65 — and doubts of their Catholic brethren were sown in the minds of some of the Protestant members of the "Union." In fact, many Presbyterian " United Irishmen " were becoming luke- wai-m, and separating from the Catholics. As Mr. Mitchel says: — "From one cause or another it is evident that towards the close of '97 the union rather abated than increased." Some of the Catholics, too, first in the North, and then elsewhere, 146 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. published addresses and resolutions hos- tile to the principles of the "United Irishmen." Indeed, there were numerous loyal addresses from both Dissenters and Catholics. The bishops and higher clergj^ tried to procure these Catholic addresses of loyalty. In February, '98, the parlia- mentary grant to the Royal College of Maynooth — a college which had been in- corporated by law for tlie education of Catholic ecclesiastical students in '95 — was increased from £8,000 to £10,000. This measure tended to throw dust in the eyes of weak Catholics, and it was re- ferred to, to justify their servility by selfish and time -ser^dng members of that persua- sion. A speedy complete emancipation too was promised, if not expressly, at least by implication. But while the vigour of the "Union " had in some degree broken up in the ISTorth, in some other parts of the island it was still aug-menting in strength. The conspiracy might after all prove too strong for the ]?.Iacchiavellian statesmen, who, in order to carrj^ out then' sinister policy had so, long connived at its existence. I ■was above all desirable then that, when the rebellion would biu-st forth, the people should be deprived of leaders. To atta.in this end, the services of informers were called into requisition. Tlie first of these wretches who demands notice was the notorious Thomas Reynolds. He was a Dublin silk-mercer, and possessor by purchase of an estate in the county Kil- dare, called Kilkea Castle. His wealtli gave him considerable influence over his Catholic co-religionists. He was in the confidence of Oliver Bond and Loi'd Edward Fitzgerald. He had been sworn in as a "United Irishman" at the house of the former, and had successively filled in the organization the offices of colonel, treasurer, and representative of Kildare, and delegate for Leinster. It happened, in the early part of '98, that he and a Dublin merchant, named Cope, had occa- sion to travel together to the country — to a place called Castle- Jordan — on business connected with a mortgage in which both were interested. In the course of their conversation, Cope was lamenting the troubled state of the country, vdiich seemed to portend an immediate rebellion. Reynolds said he was acquainted with a United Irishman who, he thought, had repented his rashness in joining a treason- able league, and would fain make atone- ment to society by defeating the plans of the conspirators. In short, Reynolds made terms with Cope, received his first instalment of blood-money, and agreed to betray his associates. On the 12th of March, in consequence of informations given by this miscreant, Oliver Bond and fourteen other Leinster delegates were arrested by Major Swan and his myi-mi- dons in coloured clothes, at Bond's house, in Lower Bridge Street, Dublin. Other leaders were arrested the same day — Thomas Addis Emmet, Dr. McNeven, Sweetman, Henry, and Hugh Jackson. Warrants were also issued against Lord Edward Fitzgerald, Counsellor Sampson, and Mr. McCormick; but they, receiving timely notice, escaped for the present at all events. A few days after these arrests, the prin- cipal committee met at the " Brazen Head Hotel." It was there and then pro- posed by one Reynolds, a distant relative of his, that the traitor Reynolds should be made away with. The proposal was unanimously rejected. It is also stated that Bond had been warned prior to the arrests. He is said to have even held a pistol to Reynolds's breast, and to have demanded of him, "What would you do to the traitor Avho would reveal our secrets, if he were in your power?" "I'd shoot him through the heart!" replied Reynolds, without flinching. Bond was staggered, and began to think he had been misinformed. In short, Reynolds's cool intrepidity saved his worthless life. Every effort was made by the patriots to supply the loss of the leaders who were thrown into prison, and to keep the people quiet till the arrival of a French auxiliary force. The brothers, Henry and John Sheares, both barristers, stepped into the vacant post of leadership. They took steps to rally the nation. A circular, said to have been written by Lord Edward Fitzgerald, was handed round among the people. Its last words were : — ' ' Be firm, Irishmen, but be cool and cautious. Be patient yet aM'hile. Trust to no unautho- rized communication; and above all we warn you — again and again we warn you — against doing the work of your tyrants by premature, by paitial, or cliAdded exer- tion. If Ireland shall be forced to throw away the scabbard, let it be at her own time, not theirs." "But," as JVIr. Mitchelsays, "Lords Camden, Clai'e, and C'astlei'eagh were determined that itshould THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 147 be at their time." The proclamation of the 30th of March, already referred to, ■was doing its work ; also the manifesto of the 3rd of April, which Sir Ralph Aber- crombie ha,d been obliged to issue from his head-quarters at Kildare, requiring the inhabitants of the county to surrender their arms Avithin ten days, and threaten- ing them, in case of non-compliance, with ••free qiiarters." Confessions of con- cealed arms and of plots were wrung from some individuals by torture. Any one ■' wearing the green " was of course out- raged. Any one wearing siiort hair was looked on as a revolutionist, called '-a croppy, and subjected to the grossest in- sults." Malevolent individuals, under pretence of loyalty, would gratify private malice by fixing on the heads of those to whom they might bear some grudge, if they chanced to wear short hair, '* pre- tended loyalist caps of coarse linen or strong brown paper, smeared with pitch on the inside, which in some instances adhered so firmly as not to be disengaged without a laceration of the hair and even skin." The "croppies" sometunes, with a sort of grim humour, retaliated on the loyahsts by cropping their hair short, thus rendering them liable to outrages from other loyalists, real or counterfeit. We have the authority of persons altogether in the interests of the British Government for the atrocities inflicted on the Irish people by the sustainers of English rule. The gallant and humane Sir John Moore, who held a command in Ireland in the year '98, gives it as his opinion .'-that moderate treatment by the generals, and the preventing of the troops from pillag- ing and molesting the people, v.'ould soon restore tranquillity, and the latter would certainly be quiet if the gentry and yeo- men would only behave witli tolerable decency, and not seek to gratify their Ul- humour and revenge upon the poor." Major-general Sir William Napier, the admirable and high-souled author of that famous military classic, the History nf the Peninsular War^ m. a review of the life of Sir John ]Moore in the Edinburgh Eevieio, bursts into the following indignant strain: — " What manner of soldiers were thus let loose upon the Avretched districts which the Ascendency-men were pleased to call disaffected? They were men, to use the venerable Abercrombie's words, who were 'formidable to everybody but the enemy.' "We ourselves were young at the time ; yet, being connected with the army, we were continually amongst the soldiers, listening Avith boyish eagerness to their conversation, and we well remem- ber — and with horror to this day — the tales of lust and blood and pillage — ^the record of their own actions against the miserable peasantry — which they used to relate." All this, be it remembered, took place before any insurrection had broken out. Mr. Gordon, a Protestant clergy- man, in his History of the Relellion, tells the folloAving : — " Thomas Fitzgerald, high-sheriff of Tipperary, seized at Clon- mel a gentleman of the name of Wright, against whom no grounds of suspicion could be conjectured by his neighbours. caused five hundred lashes to be inllicted on him in the severest manner, and con- fined hun several days without permitting his Avomids to be dressed, so that his recovery from such a state of torture and laceration could hardly be expected. In a ti'ial at law, after the rebellion, on an action of damages brought by Wright against this magistrate, the innocence of the plaintiff appeared so manifest, even at a time when prejudice riin amazingly high against persons accused of dis- loyalty, that the defendant was con- demned to pay five hundred pounds to his prosecutor. Many other actions of damages on similar grounds would have been commenced, if the Parliament had not put a stop to such proceedings by an Act of Indemnity for all errors committed by magistrates from supposed zeal for the l^ublic service. A letter ivritten in the French language, found in the pocket of Wright, was hastily considered a proof of guilt, though the letter was of a per- fectly innocent nature." On one occasion, Sir John Moore, on his march from Fennoy, entered the tov/n of Clogheen, in Tipperary. The first sight vvdiich struck him was an unfortunate man tied up and undergoijig the torment of the lash. The street was lined with country-folks on their knees. Sir John was informed that the high-sheriff, Sir Thomas Judkin Fitzgerald, was makmg great discoveries by flogging the truth out of many respectable persons. His plan, it appears, was " to flog each person till he told the truth." Sir John IMoore was filled with intense disgust, both to- wards the sheriff and his infallible method of arriving at " the truth." It is almost unnecessary to add that the 148 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. memory of this wretcli is embalmed in tlie traditional hatred of the people in Tipperary ; so much so that a few years ago, when his grandson, under the press- ure of some private misfortunes, committed suicide by tying a heavy stone round his neck and drowning himself, the rage of the peasantry would hardly suffer his remains to receive hxmnm. not to say Christian burial. It was with the utmost difficulty that the unfortunate man's body finally found a grave. It appears Sir Thomas's son also met with a violent death, and tliathis great-grandson hanged himself by accident when shewing some playmates how his grandfather used to hang the " Croppies. " Lord Edward Fitzgerald had been in concealment since the 12th of March. Tov/ards the middle of May the blood- hounds of the Castle, headed by the notorious Major SiiT, were hot upon his track. On the night of the 17th he had a very uarTow escape in WatlLng Street, Dublin. A scuffle took place between Lord Edwards's party and the myrmidons of Sirr. Sirr was pinioned by two of Lord Edward's attendants. One of them — Pat Gallagher — struck at him several times with a dagger, but Sirr was i^rotected by a coat-of-mail worn beneath his uniform. Tiie major's was as much a hairbreadth escape as Lord Edward's. But on the 10th of May the fatal horn- arrived: it was seven o'clock in the evening. Lord Edward was reposing on a bed in the house of a citizen named Miu-phy. The house was No. 153 Thomas Street, Dublin. Mm-phy entered the room to ask him would he take a cup of tea. Lord Edward thanked him, and said he would, after a while. They then chatted for some time on indiiferent topics, wlien suddenly Muf2:)hy heard the trampling of feet upon the stairs. He turned round with a startled air and saw Major Swan at the door. According to Murphy, some person in a. soldier's jacket, with a sword in his hand, was behind him. Murphy placed himself between Swan and the bed. Swan, however, looked over him, and saw Lord Edward. He then informs his lordship that he has a warrant against him, and that resistance will be vain, assuring hun at the same time that he wiU treat him with the greatest respect. Then Swan advances towards the bed, but, as he does so, Lord Edward springs up in an instant, snaps a pistol at him, which misses fire, then "like a tiger" (this is Murphy's expression) closes with him. Swan now puts his hand in his breast-pocket, but Lord Edward per- ceiving the motion, strikes at him with the dagger he has drawn from beneath the pillow, pinioning his hand to his breast. Swan loses three fingers and receives a superficial wound in the side, but manages in the struggle to fire his pistol and hit Lord Edward in the shoulder. Lord Edward staggers and falls against the bed, but, rousing all his energies, inmiediately rallies, springs again upon his antagonist, and by a grand sudden effort flings him to the other side of the room. Swan has already cried out, " Eyan, Eyan! I am basely murdered ! " Captain Eyan has heard these words while engaged in searching another part of the house; so now he arrives on the scene of deadly conflict- — deadly for him as for the heroic Geraldine. In the act of enter- ing the room he aims his pistol, pulls the trigger, but misses fire. He next makes a lunge at Lord Edward with a sword-cane, as he is still engaged with Swan. The blade bends on Fitzgerald's ribs, affecting him so much for the moment that he throws himself on the bed. But when Eyan throws himself upon him, the scuffle becomes fiercer and more terrible. Lord Edward does fearful execution with his " awfully con- strncted double-edged dagger." He in- flicts wound after womid on Eyan to the number of fourteen, one of which lays open the lower part of his belly, so that his bowels are falling out. Lord Edward tries to make his way to the door, tramp- ling Eyan under his feet. The latter, however, clings to him with tenacious death -grasp and impedes his endeavours to escape, xlccording to the account of Captain Eyan's son, IVIr. D. F. Eyan, of the excise in London, the captain's hands were at this stage of the ferocious struggle disabled, so that it was with his legs he clung round Lord I'Mward. But Major Sirr's account is somewhat different. " On my arrival," the major writes to ]\Ir. D. F. Eyan, "in view of Lord Edward, Eyan, and Swan, I beheld his lordship standing with a dagger in his hand, as if ready to plunge it into my friends, while dear Eyan, seated on the bottom step of the flight of the THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 149 upper stairs, had Lord Edward gi-asped ■with both his arms by the legs or thighs, and Swan in a somewhat simihar situa- tion, both labouring under the torment of their wounds, when, without hesitation, I fired at Lord Edward's dagger-arm, lodging several slugs in his shoulder, and the instrument of death fell to the ground. Having secured the titled prisoner, my first concern was for your dear father's safety. I viewed his intestines with grief and sorrow." Sirr up to this moment had been below with two or three hundred men, and had been busy placing guards round the house to prevent the possi- bility of escape. When he came up the stairs he was accompanied with a strong body of soldiers. In truth, it was hardly safe to ascend without them. Even after his dagger-ann was disabled, the indomitable Geraldine refused to give in. He made one desperate effort to burst through the guard of soldiers, bvit was at last overpowered and rendered insensible by repeated blows. The whole struggle lasted little more than a minute. He was canned down stairs in. a .sheet taken off the bed in which he lay. The soldiers brutally kicked him : a wretched drummer wounded him in the back of the neck. This wound was the source of exquisite torture to the noble patriot in his last moments. At the time of his capture he was already in bad health: he was suffering from an attack of cold, and was quite feverish. All the soldiers, however, were not so savage. When Sirr called upon them to follow him up stairs, one soldier ex- claimed : — " I fought by Lord Edward's side in America. He was a kind and brave officer, and by G — d I'll never assist in capturing him!" Sirr reported him to his commanding officer: he was shot next morning. In the biographies of Lord Edward the reader will find related in detail the sad sequel of this story; how calm Lord Edward became when he was brought to the castle, just as the figliting Swedish king, Charles XH., after his fierce com- bat against overwhelming numbers of Turks and Tartars in the house at Bender, became immediately all-smiling and serene; how, when, he was lodged in Newgate prison, the under- jailer having been heavily bribed, he enjoyed the last delight of one brief stolen interview with his young French wife, the gentle and lovely Pamela, illegitimate daughter of the duke of Orleans by the celebrated Madame de Genlis, and half-sister to King Louis Philippe; how the mean British viceroy and his meaner Irish advisers forced Lady Pamela Fitzgerald into exile while he was still lingering on his dungeon death-bed (but when did British statesmen shew aught like mag- nanimity to a fallen foe, especially if that foe were Irish?); how his wounds, v/hich at first appeared not to shew fatal symptoms, at last grcAV worse; how, when raging fever set in the night before his death, in his wild delirium he fancied himself again in that fierce grapple of life and death, and shouted to his imaginary foes, "Come on, damn you! come on!" finally, how the base legislature, after his death, pursuedboth him and his mth craven vindictiveness. They were so lost to all feeling of manhood as to pass a bill of attainder to rob his wife and children of all means of subsistence. Reynolds, the infomier, was the chief " credible " witness exammed on this occasion. A'ainly Curran, at the bar of the House of Commons, denounced him in accents of noble wrath, and pleaded v/ith generous pathos for the hapless widow and oiphans. " I have often," he said, "of late gone to the dungeon of the captive, but never have I gone to the grave of the dead to receive instructions for his defence, nor, in truth, have I ever before been at the trial of a dead man !" Curran entered into an elabora,te argument, contending that a posthumous attainder was at variance with the principles of British law — was, in its nature, inhuman, im- politic, and against all notions of equity. 'Tlio close of his speech is one of the noblest outbursts of Irish eloquence: " One more topic you will permit me to add. Every act of tke sort ought to have a practical morality flowing from its principles. If loyalty and justice require that these infants should be deprived of bread, must it not be a violation of that principle to give them food or shelter? i\Iust not every loyal and just man wish to see them, in the words of the famous Golden Bull, 'always poor and necessitous, and for ever accom- panied by the infamy of their father, languisliing in continued indigence, and finding their punishment in living and 150 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O'CONNELL. their relief in dying?' If the widowed mother should carry the orphan heir of her unfortiiate husband to the gate of any man who might feel himself touched with the sad vicissitudes of human affairs, who might feel a compassionate reverence for the noble blood that flowed in his veins, nobler than the royalty that -first ennobled it, that like a rich stream rose and ran till it hid its foiintain — if, remembering the many noble qualities of his unfortunate father, his heart melted over the calamities of the child, if his heart sv/elled, if his eyes overflowed, if his. too precipitate hand were stretched out by his pity or his gratitude to the poor excommunicated suilerers, how coidd he justify the rebci tear or the traitorous humanity?" He then conjures them to reflect that the fact " of guilt or innocence, which must be the foundation of this bill, is not now, after the death of the party, capable of being tried consistently with the liberty of a free people or the un- alterable rules of eternal justice; and that as to the forfeiture and the ignominy which it enacts, that only can be pimish- ment which lights upon guilt, and that can be only vengeance which breaks upon innocence!" The death of Lord Edward was a terrible blow to the Irish cause. He was a brave and skilful soldier. In the British army he had been a major, and had distinguished liimseK in the latter years of the American war. No military leader of any great importance now remained to the " United Irishmen," at least in Ireland. Seeing what the insurgents were able to do, even without leaders or discipline, it may be doubted whether, if Lord Edward had lived to place himself at their head, they might not have held out agamst the whole power of England, in spite of all the drawbacks that crippled their efforts, till France could come to the rescue with forces adequate to the task of securing Ireland's liberation. The intrepidity which nerved Lord Edward in his des- perate struggle against his captors, he shewed all through life on every occasion calculated to call it forth. On the battle- field, in encounters in the lonely woods of America, where single-handed he fought against odds ; in the Irish House of Com- mons, where he defied the rage of the venal majority; and in various other situations of difficulty, he bi'aved alike hostile opinion or physical danger with fearless eye and soul. A trifling incident that occured to him one evening, when he was riding home from the races at the Curragh of Kildare, in company with Arthur O'Connor, will serve to shew his power of proper self-assertion. He was in the habit at the tim.e of wearing a green cravat. A jiarty of dragoon officers, who were also at the races, saw this symbol of disaffection round his neck, and determined to take it from him. As Lord Edward and his friend rode along" side by side, the band of British champions galloped past, and then wheeled round and faced the hvo gentlemen. Thus, as it were, intercepted. Lord Edward, reining- in his steed, asked the meaning of this unlooked-for impertinence. The spokes- man of the British cavaliers at once made a demand tiiat he should " doff " the rebel symbol, which offended them as British officers. " The imiform you wear," said Lord Edward, in reply to their polite request, " would lead one to suppose that you are gentlemen; your conduct, however, con- veys a very different impression. As to this neckcloth that so offends you, all I can say is, here I stand; let any man among you who dares come forward and take it off." Lord Edward could hardly say or do more than this to oblige them or meet their wishes haK-way; but, singular to say, not a man of the British heroes budged an inch forward. If thej'- didn't exactly stand with their fingers in their mouths, at least their faces looked won- drous blank and foolish. But if Lord Edward shewed an anxiety to do everything in reason to make himself agreeable to those loyal cavaliers, his politeness was nothing to the obliging courtesy of Arthur O'Con- nor. This gentleman, desirous to gratify their love of fighting, which he thought only natural in military men, and believ- ing the pistol to be the proper arbitrator in all such disputes, at once, himself, proposed that they should select two of their number. "Just select two," says he, "and my friend. Lord Edward, and myself will be most happy to meet them, and give them every satisfaction about the green cravat that gentlemen can desire." But all this polite compUance went for nothing. Instead of jumping with alac- TnE LIFE OF DATilEL O CONNELL. 151 rity at Mr. O'Connor's amiable suggestion of " pistols for four, and coffee for two," the British heroes suddenly felt their generous indignation at "the wearing of the green" cool down a bit. They felt their valour, like that of their countryman. Bob Acres, rapidly " oozing out, as it were, at the palms of theu" hands." Tlie cravat, which smelt of sedition at least, if not "flat burglary," and irritated so dreadfully their loyal nervous systems, remained intact on Lord Edward's neck. In short, these paladins in embryo absolutely sneaked away, just as if they were bullies, or cowards, or both. The most imaginative of British bards could hardly sing of their retreat — "Oh, 'twas a glorious sight to see The march of English chivaky ! In fact, the ladies at the county baU, which was held in Kildare a short time after, seemed to regard them as actually bullies and poltroons, for they all refused to dance with them. In almost everj^ age of Irish history some one or other of the Geraldines has appeared in arms against British rule. Lord Edward was the representative Greraldine of Ms day. Indeed, he may be called the last genuine patriot of his house, though a feeble gleam of patriotic feeling is still now and then perceptible in the once glorious family of Leinster. Lord Henry Fitzgerald, an elder brother of Lord Edward, might justly claim the praise due to patriotism. But their eldest brother, William Kobert, Duke of Leinster. though amiable and liberal m his opinions, was weak and vacillating. Yet one incident in his life struck a terror as great, albeit absurd, into the hearts of the Enghsh people, as the appearance of his brother Edward at the head of 100,000 "United Irishmen," in '98, could possibly have inspired. Though the occurrence may be a little out of place in this part of my narrative, yet, as a sort of relief to the terrible scenes with which I have crowded this chapter. I may be allowed to introduce it. During the glorious volunteer movement the duke was appointed commander of the Dublin volunteers. The ceremony on the day of his assuming the command was conducted with the utmost pomp and military display. The artillery was drawn out in College Green, and mul- titudinous masses of spectators cheered enthusiastically for the popular chief of the popular House of Leinster. While the triiunphant shouts of the populace are still ringing through the air, the captain of an English collier chances to land on the Dublin quays. He hears the din, and quickly, with eyes and mouth aU open, he asks those standing near, " What is the meaning of aU this rejoic- ing?" " Oh!" quoth a vrag, "they are crown- ing William Robert, Duke of Leinster, King of Ireland ! " The poor skipper hastily concludes that, imder such a revolutionary state of things, it would not be safe for him and his cargo to remain in Ireland. In a twinkling he hurries on board his ship again, weighs anchor, and makes sail for England, as if pursued by Paul Jones or the devil himself. Once he finds himself safe in Liverpool, without losing a moment he makes an aiii davit before the worshipful mayor that he saiv the Duke of Leinster cro■\^Tled Iving of Ireland. An express forthmth conveys the start- ling intelligence to London. A cabinet council is summoned. The alarming news spreads Hke wildfire. The modern Babylon remains panic-stricken till the regular mail arrives ; after which the por- tentous rumour is heard no more. We have seen that the testimony of Reynolds was used to furnish groimds for the posthumous bill of attainder. That wretch had been under the greatest obligations to the generosity of the noble Geraldine ; yet he did not for a moment shrink from the odious task of helping to rob his benefactor's wife and children of their means of subsistence. His base ingratitude need not in the slightest degree excite our astonishment. The man who is a traitor to his country will be equally faithless to his friends, if by his faith- lessness he can promote his seeming s.eK- interest. Indeed, this base ingratitude is one of the most salient characteristics of the informer tribe. We find the infamous Nagle, the informer of our o^vn days, bhged to admit in cross-examination at one of the State prosecutions of '65, that' he owed the possession of two situations — his daily bread, m short — to the writer of these pages, whom he had just helped to consign to penal servitude under a sentence of twenty years. 152 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. For long years, the source whence the English Government derived their know- ledge of Lord Edward's place of conceal- ment was a complete mystery. Some persons, altogether innocent, fell under the dishonouring suspicion of having dis- closed the secret hiding-place. It was inicharitablj'' whispered by many, that poor Murphy, who suffered imprison- ment and was utterly ruined, in con- sequence of his connection with Lord Edward, was the traitor. Honest, rough, manly Samuel Neilson, who dined with him the very day on which he was captured, was bj^ others suspected of having done this deed of perfidy. Time and research, and the publication of certain letters and State papers, bearing on tlie events of '98, have at last brought the truth to light. The innocent Murphy and Neilson are cleared of all taint of suspicion, and the treachery is, to all appearance, brought home to the door of a sleek, respectable Catholic lawyer, named Francis Magan. Dr. iVIadden and IVIr. Fitzpatrick may claim a large share of whatever merit belongs to this discovery. The language of Dr. IMadden, in the following passage, is somewhat cautious, if not exactly hesitating : — "To those who may be disposed to follow up these efforts of mine to bring the villain's memory to justice, I would suggest: Let them not seek for the betrayer of Lord l<]dward Fitzgerald in the lower or middle classes of the society of ' United Irishmen ; ' and perhaps, if they are to find the traitor a member of any of the learned professions, it is not the medical one that has been disgraced by his connection with it." Li truth, there is little doubt that Francis Magan was the traitor. This r/entleman enjoyed to the close of his life a snug pension from the Castle Government for his valuable services. The Cornwallis Correspondence makes us aware of the fact that that other double-dyed monster of perfidy, Higgins, otherwise called "the sham squire," was made the channel through which the information, fatal to Lord Edward, reached the Government. There were, unhappily, others besides Magan who, in those dark times, stood high in the confidence of the United Irishmen, Avhile they were secretly in the pay of the alien Government, and who contrived to conceal their rascality to the very end of their lives. Such a one was Leonard ]\IacNally, the barrister. We have already heard O'Connell tell a humorous anecdote, in which he and his son figure more comically than creditably. This man was associated with the illus- trious Curran in the defence of most of the prisoners tried during the State pro- secutions of those days. In fact, Mac- Nally was himself a " United Irishman." Curran had boundless confidence in this arch -deceiver. Both were retained for iha defence of Patrick Finney. On this occasion Curran could not refrain from impulsively throwing his arm round the rascal's neck, and saying Avith emotion, "My old and excellent friend, I have long known and respected the honesty of your heart, but nev>rr until this occasion was I acquainted Avith the extent of youi* abilities." W. H. Curran, in his excellent life of his father, talks of "the uncom- promising and romantic fidelity " of friend- ship sheAvn by MacNally to Curran for forty-three years. The eloquent Charles I'hiUips refused to believe him a betrayer. "When his guilt became knoAvn, after his death, Curran's son was horrified. Such was the extreme good-nature or Aveakness of the latter, that he refrained from bringing out a fresh edition of the bio- gi-aphy of his father, in order to avoid hurting the feelings of MacNally's family by the remarks Avhich he should neces- sarily have to make on the old sinner, Leonard. Perhaps it is not so very Avon- derful that men were decei\'ed by INIac- Nally's specious semblance of patriotism. He constituted hunself the champion of the "United Irishmen" when Sir Jonah Baixington sneered at them, and act- ually fought their quarrel in a duel with that eccentric and exquisitely humoroiis knight. People on the patriot side, dui-iug Leonard's life, thought it a horrible grievance that the GoA^ernment would never give him a silk gown. His friend, Curran, when the Whigs came into power, used all his influence Avith the Duke of Bedford to get him made a king's counsel. But His Gi\ace, for some private reason, resolutely refused to call him to the inner bar. In 1807, General Sir Arthur Yv^ellesley, afterAvards the famous "Iron Duke" of Wellington, wrote the folloAving letter to Mr. Trail, an officer of the Irish Government: — "I entirely agree Avith you respecting the cmploymejit of our informer. Such a measm-e Avould do much mischief. It would disgust the loyai of all descrip- THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 153 tions ; at the same time, it would render useless our private communication with liirn, as no further trust would be placed in him by the disloyal." This letter is believed to have reference to MacNally. The following passage from a letter of Sir Arthur to Lord Hawkesbury, written in 18uS. also throws a lurid light on the ghastly spy-system of those noble Britons, who, if you believe themselves, hate any- thing like a crooked or concealed policy, and ai-e always manly and aboveboard in their dealings. It is curious to find the blunt and apparently straightforward Arthur Wellesley busying himself in these dirty doings in the dark, and apparently such a proficient in the noble art of State '-hugger-mugger." Here is the passage: — "The extracts of the letters sent to you by Lord Grcnville were sent to us by , the Catholic oi'ator, two months ago. The mentioned is a man desirous of being employed by the Government as a spy. and his trade is that of a spy to all parties. He offered himself to Lord Fingal and others, as well as to me, and we now v/atch him closely." O'Connell, like so many others, was somewhat astonished when the fact of MacNally's guilt became publicly known. This took place after his death, in 18:^0, when, his family claiming the reversion of his regular pension of £300 a year, Ijord Wellesley demanded a statement of the terms on which it had been granted. Besides this regular pension, he received, according to the secret service papers, various other payments. In 1&03 he was Robert Emmet's counsel (such was the trust reposed in him), and on the 14th of September, a few days before the trial, it would appear from an entry that L. M. received £100 from the Castle. In the same year we find this Government record: "Mr. Pollock for L. M., £1,000." He visited Emmet in prison, and on the morning of his death took leave of him, apparently ^vitll all the emotion and grief of a faithful friend. From MacNally's case, and others like it, O'Connell used to deduce arguments against secret societies. He used to say the MacNallys were not all dead yet. Doubtless this is more or less true. It cannot reasonably be denied that secret societies are exposed to the danger of in- formers, any more than that soldiers are liable to be shot in battle, or seamen to go to "Davy Jones's locker." But this ob- vious fact does not make conspiracies, in some shape or form, one whit the less absolutely necessary to struggling nations under various conceivable circumstances. Of course they are dangerous; but how can men free a nation without risking liberty and life in various v/ays? In tliis life danger is at all times all around us. You can hardly walk down the crowded street of a great city without incurring the danger of being run over, or the danger of having your skull split with a tumbling- tile or some other danger. At a certain stage, Mr. O'Connell's or any similiar open political movements, in Ireland or elsewhere, would be sure to become fully as dangerous and liable to treachery as secret ones. Indeed, all the prudence and caution with which the great Irish Tribune conducted his grand Repeal agitation of '43, did not avail to save himself and some of his leading followers from being caught in the meshes of British law in '44, when they were found guilty, by constructive and other proof, on a charge of seditious conspii'acy. Lord Edward Fitzgerald's arrest was followed closely by that of the two brothers Slieares, who were both taken in their house in Baggot street, Dublin, on the morning of the 21st of May. The informer who betrayed them was, if pos- • sible, a more abandoned scoundrel than Reynolds. He was named John. Warne- f ord Armstrong. He was a man of some property and position, and a captain in the KUdare militia. He contrived to meet the brothers in a bookshop, wormed him- self into their confidence, and was asked to dine at their house. The arrest took place on the foUowiug morning. Dr. Madden says of this hideous instance of human treachery: " Captain Armstrong, in his evidence on the trial of the Sheares, did not think it necessary to state that at his Sunday's interview (May 20th, 1798), he shared the hospitality of his victims; that he dined with them, sat in the com- pany of their aged mother and affectionate sister, enjoyed the society of the accom- plished wife of one of them, caressed his infant children, and on another occasioH — refecred to by JNliss Steele — was enter- tained with music — the wife of the unfor- tunate man, whose children he was to leave in a few days fatherless, playing on the harp for his entertainment! These things are almost too horrible to think on. 154 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. " Armstrong, after dining with his victims on Sunday, returned to their house no more. This was the last time the cloven foot of treachery passed the threshold of the Sheares. On the fol- lowing morning they were arrested and committed to Ivilmainham jail. The terrible iniquity of Armstrong's conduct on that Sunday — when he dined with his victims, sat in social intercourse with their families a few hours only before he was aware his treachery would have brought ruin on that household — is unparalleled." This miscreant, in his old age, had an interview with the author of the Xz'fes ofilie United Irishmen , touching some alleged inaccuracies in that work. Armstrong took pains to deny having caressed any children at Sheares's. " He never recol- lected," he said, "having seen the children at all ; but there was a young lady of about fifteen there whom he met at dinner. The day he dined there (and he dined there only once), he was urged by Lord Castlercagh to do so. It was wrong to do so, and he (Captain Armstrong) was sorry for it; but he was persuaded by Lord Castlereagh to go there to dine for the purpose of getting further information." Upon this statement Mr. Mitchel justly observes: — "Perhaps the history of no •other country can shew us an example of the first minister of State personally exhorting his spies to go to a gentleman's house, and mingle with his family in social intercourse, in order to procure evidence to hang hun. tlowever, his lordship did procure tl>e information he wanted. He found that the leaders of the ' United Irishmen,' being at length convinced of the impossibility of restraining the people and keeping them quiet under such intol- erable tyranny, had decided on a general rising for the 23rd of May." The United Irishmen of Leinster were to act in con- cert. The stopping of all the mail- coaches was to be the signal for the people everywhere to rise and commence the war. The camp of Loughlinstown, the artillery at Chapel-izod and the Castl-e of Dublin were to be seized by a coup de main (sudden and successful attack) the first night. One hour was to be allowed between the seizm-e of the camp at Loughlinstown and the artillery at Chapel-izod, and an hour and a-half between the seizure of the artillery and the surprise of the Castle. The different bands of insurgents from the coimtry were to enter Dublin at the same moment. Simultaneously a great insurrection was to take place at Cork. Among the leaders there was some disagreement regarding the plans. Neilson and others were bent upon first attacking the county prison of Ivilmainham and Newgate jail, in order to set free their comrades. These attacks, then, were also fixed for the night of the 23rd. Seeing the danger of complicating their plans by trying to effect too much at once, the Sheareses and others desired to put off the attempts on the jails tUl after the general insurrec- tion. In truth, it was impossible for human patience to bear any longer the outrages perpetrated by the rufhan soldiery. The people were maddened. The following passage from Lord Holland's Memoirs of the Whig Party gives one a fearful idea of the atrocities which were daily taking place, and which were, to all appearance, the result of a premeditated plan on the part of the Government: — "The pre- mature and ill-concerted insurrections which followed in the Catholic districts were quelled, rather in consequence of want of concert and skill in the insurgents, than of any good conduct or discipline of the king's troops, whom Sir Ralph Abercrombie described very honestly as formidable to none hut their friends, lliat experienced and upright commander had been removed from his command,even after those just and spirited general orders in which the remarkable judgment just quoted was conveyed. His recall was hailed as & triumph by the Orange faction, and they contrived, about the same time, to get rid of Mr, Secretary Pelham, who, though somewhat time-serving, was a good- natured and a prudent man. Indeed, surroimded as they were with burning cot- tages, tortured backs and frequent execu- tions, they were yet full of their sneers at what they whimsically termed 'the clem- ency' of the Government, and the weak character of the viceroy. Lord Camden. * * * The fact is incontrovertible that the people of Ireland ivere driven to resistance, which possibly they meditated before, htf the free quarters and expenses of the soldiery, which were such as are not permitted in civihzed warfare, even in an enemy''s country. Trials, if they must so be called, were carried on without number under martial law. It often happened THE LIFE OF DAKIEL O CONNELL. 155 that three officers composed the court, and that of the three two were under age, and the third an officer of the yeo- manry or militia, who had sworn in his Orange lodge eternal hatred to the people over whom he was thus con- stituted a judge. Floggings, picketings, ■death were the usual sentences, and these were sometimes commuted into banish- ment, serving in the fi^t, or transference to a foreign service. Many were sold at so much per head to the Prussians. Other more legal, but not more horrible, outrages were daily committed by the different corps under the command of Government. Even in the streets of Dublin a man was shot and robbed of £30. on the loose recollection of a soldier's having seen him in the battle of Kilcalley,* and no proceeding was insti- tuted to ascertain the murder or prosecute the murderer. Lord Wycombe, who was in Dubhn, and who was himself shot at by a sentinel between Black Rock aod that city, wrote to me many details of simHiar outrages, which he had ascer- tained to be true. Dr. Dickson, lord bishop of Down, assured me that he had seen families, returning peaceably from mass, assailed without provocation by drunken troops and yeomaniy, and their wives and daughters exposed to every Jipecies of indignity^ hi-vtalltij, and outrage, from wliich neither his remonstrances nor those of other Protestant gentlemen could rescue them. The subsequent indemnity Acts deprived of redress the victims of this wide -spread cruelty." The contrast between the manner in which the rebels and that in which the king's soldiery demeaned themselves towards females in '98 is very striking, and altogether in favour of the fonner. The Rev. Mr. Gordon, a Protestant clergyman, though in no degree partial to the rebels or their cause, admits that they cannot with justice be accused of violating in any way the respect due to female honour. " In one point," he says, " I think we must allow some praise to the rebels. Amid all their atrocities the chastity of the fair sex was respected. I have not been able to ascertaui one instance to the contrary in the county of Wexford, though many beautifid young women were absolutely in their power." Indeed, without vouching for its accuracy, I have seen it stated in more • Kilcullen. (?) places than one that some of the fair royalist ladies — " dames exuberant with tingling blood," to borrow Tliomas Davis's expression — complained of the coldness and insensibility to female charms of the United Irishmen. In short, they are asserted to have accused " the Croppies" of want of gallantry. It is not possible, in a brief and hasty sketch of the conspiracy of the "United Ii-ishmen " like the present, to give the reader any adequate idea of the atrocious means by which the Government suc- ceeded in precipitating the insurrection. In the numerous works devoted expressly to the subject the reader will find ample details of the baleful arts of Pitt, Castle- reagh, Clare, and the rest of the set, and notices of the vile instruments employed by these statesmen to aid in giving effect to their helHsh schemes. I have been able to do little more than mention the names of Sir Thomas Judkin Fitzgerald, Hunter Gowan, and John Claudius Berssford, whose "riding- school became famous or infamous for its scenes of rebel-torturing. Of these monsters of infernal cruelty it is enough to say (and the remark applies to many more of their contemporaries), that by their deeds they have consecrated their names to lasting infamy. Of one of the inhuman wretches of that _ day, however (Lieutenant Hempenstall), I shall say a few passmg words. His cruelties are grotesque as well as horrible. Their strange aspect even makes them seem incredible, but they are sufficiently well authenticated. His name is some- what in keeping with his pui-suits and pastimes. He was a man of gigantic stature, and his great dehght was to hang rebels over his shoulders. Hence he received the odd nickname of "the walk- ing gaUows." Without troubling hin>- self. in the least about forms of law, of which probably he understood httle and cared nothing at all, he condemned and executed " right away," to use the Ameri- can phrase, whatever unlucky wights he suspected to be hatching treason. A master of the lugubrious "craft" of coffin-making, m the suburb of Harold's Cross, Dublin, was "within an ace" of swinging from the lieutenant's herculean shoulders because he had rashly painted on his sign-board, "Patent coffin-maker to IT'S Majesty." Catching sight of, or hearing of this audacious inscription, the 156 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. iiltra-loyal Hempenstall at once took it into his sage " noddle " that this was ■"compassing and imagining the king's death " with a vengeance, and conse- quently manifest high treason. He there- fore resolved to execute the traitor with- out a moment's delay. Some kind friend, however, forewarned the builder of final tenements for Adam's children, who made haste to demolish the rebel sign, and to fly for his precious life. He thus escaped from the loyal fury of " the walk- ing gallows." Sir Jonah Barring-ton, in his Memoirs of the Irish Union, referring to these atroci- ties, says: — "Mr. Pitt counted on the cxpertness of the Irish Government to effect a premature explosion. Free quarters were now ordered on the Irish po]>ulation. * * * Slow tortures v>^cre inflicted under the pretence of extorting confession. The people were driven to madness. * * * Ireland was reduced to a state of anarchy, and exposed to crime and cruelties to which no nation had ever been subject. The people could no longer bear their miseries. Mr. Pitt's object was now effected. These sanguin- ary proceedings will, in the opinion of posterity, be placed to the account of those who might have prevented them." Driven, then, at length to utter des- peration, on the arrival of the night of the 2ord of May- the brave but hapless peasantry rose tumultuously in various localities. They were destitute of am- munition and everything requisite for the successful prosecution of a war, except courage. Above all, they were now bereft of all their leaders. That very evening Neilson and some others had been arrested — jSTeilson, while reconnoiter- ing Newgate prison. ' Still, brave hearts as they were, they went stoutly and boldly to work. That night they stof)ped the Northern, and Connaught coaches. On the 24th a party attacked Naas nnsuccessfully. Another party surprised the town of Prosperous. A detachment of British soldiers, stationed at the village of Clane, had to cut their way to Naas with considerable loss. At KilcuUen another body vigorously fought General Dundas. Shortly after, a party of insur- gents, near Dublin, commanded by two gentlemen, named Ledwich and Keough, were defeated by Lord Roden. The leaders were taken, tried by court- martial, and hanged. Notices or pro- clamations were issued by Lieutenant- general Lake, commanding the king's forces in Ireland, and by the Lord-mayor of Dublin. Lord Castlereagh presented a message from the viceroy to the House of Commons, demandmg the support of the members. During the first few days of the rebellion several other combats took place. At Dunboyne and Barrets- town the people liad the best of it. At Cai'low, Monasterevan, and other places, the insurgents were repulsed. On the Curragh of Kildare an inhuman and per- fidious massacre of three hundred and fifty Irishmen, worthy of the blackest days of British misrule, was perpetrated by Major-general Sir James Duif . About three thousand insurgents offered terms of submission to General Dundas. That humane oflicer at once sent General Welford to receive their arms and grant them protection. Before he could ari-ive. Duff, marching from Limerick, arrived on the field. One of the rebels discharged his piece in the air previously to giving it up. Duff and his men took advantage of this, fell on the defenceless, unresisting crowd, and massacred three hundred and fifty of them. This hideous affair occurred at the Gibbet Rath of the Curragh of Kildare, on the 3rd of June. The peasantry still call the scene of this sad occurrence, which the English impu- dentlj'' speak of as if it were a fair battle, "the place of slaughter." On the 26th of May the insurgents had met with another repulse and considerable loss at Tara. the old seat of Milesian royalty in Meath. By this time the insurrection was well nigh stamped out in Kildare, Dublin, and Meath. Mr, Mitchel says, " The slaughter of the people was out of all proportion to the resistance." Mr. Gordon says, "I have reason to think more men than fell in battle were slain in cold blood. No quarter was given to persons taken prisoners as rebels, ivith or ivitliout armsy But in the county of Wexford, which, up to a recent period, had been perhaps the most peaceful county in Ireland, and in which the United system had made far less way than in the othercountiesof Lein- ster, a far more formidable insurrection was destined to break out and to rage for some weeks. It is needless to say that it was the system of torture and persecution pursued by the magistrates and the mili- tary that finally goaded to revolt, not T:g[E LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 157 merely the populace o^ Wexford, but some of the priests, who up to the very out- break of the rebellion had counselled the people to maintain peace, aud had even in some cases refused to hear the confes- sions of an J' of the United Irishmen. Hunter Go wan was raging around Gorey like a fiend incarnate. The week before the insurrection he entered Gorey with a human finger stuck on the point of his sword. Then, at a friend's house, where his daughters were stopping, he gratified those amiable and refined young ladies by letting them play with it, and he himself with arch pleasantry dropped it into the bosom of a young lady, who was so weak and silly as to be shocked and disgusted at the exhibition. The North Cork militia were quartered in the county. I\'Iany members of this corps were Orangemen. These have the credit of introducing the pitch-cap torture into Wexford. A ser- geant of this corps, nicknamed Tom the Devil, was most ingenious in inventing novel tortures. Moistened gunpowder was frequently rubbed into the close-cut liair and set on fire. During the process of cropping, persons suspected of disaffec- tion sometimes had the tips of their ears — sometimes bits of their noses — ^snipped off. Ketaliations would ensue. On the liotli of May a cold-blooded massacre took place in Carnew. A party of prison- ers were deliberately shot in the ball-alley by the yeomen and the Antrim Rifles, in presence of their officers. House-bm-nings were frequent. It was the burning of his house and chapel by the cowardlj^ yeomanry, who, thinking the people liad surrendered all theu" arms, had now commenced burning and destroying all around them, that drove Father John IMurphy of Boole- vogue, an accomplished and worthy priest, into rebellion, at the head of his liersecuted flock. He had exerted himself to the utmost to presei-ve peace aud to oblige the people to surrender their arms. But now he felt it his duty to tell his suffering flock, who crowded round him in the woods asking for advice, that it was better for them to die bravely in the field than be butchered in their houses. They all promised to follow him. Almost immediately he defeats the Camolin yeo- manry. Their acting commander. Lieu- tenant Bookey, is killed. On the 27th of May he defeats Colonel Foote and the 2sorth Cork militia in the memorable combat of Oulart Hill. His skirmishers retire up the hill before the royalists, who are blown and disordei'ed in the pursuit. As the Xorth Cork approach the summit of the hill, Father John and his merry men jump up from behind a ditch, which serves them as an intren^hment. The North Cork fire a volley. Before they can reload, the insurgents dash forward and swarm round them. In a few minutes all is over. The persecuting North Cork are cut to pieces. None of them escape, save Colonel Foote, a sergeant, a drum- mer, and two privates. Th(^ different cavahy corps, who are mere helpless spectators of the fight, retreat pi-ecipi tately — some to ^Vexford, some to Gorey, some to Enniscorthy. They commit atro- cities of every kind on their retreat, shooting men and burning houses. The next victory gained by Father John was that of Enniscorthy, on the 28th of May, After some hard fighting, the town was left in the hands of the insurgents. Some additional royalist checks having followed, the garrison of Wexford became panic- stricken, and abandoned the town, which was surrendered to the peasant army. Before the close of the month of May, the whole of the county Wexford was in open insurrection. The space at my disposal does not permit me to enter into any lengthened ' details regarding the events of this rebel- lion, or even to mention the names of all the combats that v,-ere fought. The battle of Tubberneering or Clough was a complete factory for the insurgents of the camp of Corrigrua. As they were march- ing towards Gorey, they suddenly met the column of Colonel Walpole, who was on his way to .attack their camp. This officer was completely surprised. The insur- gents opened a heavy fire from the fields. Early in the action Walpole was shot through the head. His troops fled in great confusion, severely punished, and obliged to leave their three pieces of cannon in the hands of the rebels. The battle of New lloss, fought on the ijth of June, was very obstinately con- tested. The insurgents, under Beauchamp liagenal liarvey, a Protestant barrister and man of propei'ty, who had been elected Commander-in-chief of the Wex- ford army, were anxious to drive General Johnson out of New lloss, because then they would be in communication with liilkenny and Munster. They expected. 158 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O'CONNEL^. in short, that a general rising of the south of Ireland would follow, if they could win the town of New Eoss. Nothuig could exceed the impetuosity and desperation ■of the rebel attack. The town was can'ied, the royal troops driven across the wooden "bridge over tjie Earrow, into Ivilkenny. Unhappily, the Irish then began to drink, and soon hundreds were imbecile and besotted with liquor. Johnson rallies the troops and returns to the assault. After some fierce fighting, he is once more master of the town, the outskirts of which are now in flames, fired by the insurgents,- as Enniscoi-thy had been on the 28th. Again the rebels, havuig rallied, advance to the assault. Again the troops give way. The lost ground is regained by the Irish; but they repeat their folly, and are once more driven out. A third time their obstinate bravery penetrates to the heart of tlic town : the firing continues till night-time ; but at last, wanting oflicers to direct them, the main body of the insur- gents are finally driven out, after an "obstinate engagement of more than ten hours, leaving behind them some thou- sands of their comrades, himdreds of whom are put to the sword. According to Sir Jonah Harrington, " more than five thousq.nd were either killed or consumed in the conflagration." Such was tiie well- fought combat of New Ross, which was lost mamly, if not solely, through the intoxication of a large portion of the insurgents. A horrible deed — the burn- ing of the barn of Scullabogue^the same night, stained the noble cause of the insurgents. Some fugitives from New Koss, headed by John Xviurphy of Lough- gur, excited and maddened by the deeds of cold-blooded slaughter perpetrated both on that day and on other occasions by the royalists, dehberately set fire to the barn, containing about a hiindred prisoners, and consumed it and its in- mates by way of retahation. Barrington, Plowden, ivlitchel, and others, prove clearly, by impartial testimony, that the rebels were induced to do this horrid deed solely by the circumstance "that they had received intelligence that the military were again puttmg all the rebel prisoners to death in the town of Ross, as they had done at Dunlavin and Carnew." Aiter the defeat of New Eoss, Bagenal lia,rvey, who was horrified and anguish- stricken at tlie massacre of Scullabogue, was deposed from his command, and Father Philip Roch'e was elected in his stead. Harvey was .an amiable and patriotic man — clever, too ; but he wanted military talent and energy. He had sat up carousmg the night before the battle. Though personally brave, during the conflict he shewed himself alike destitute of decision and mental resoraces. On the 9th of June twenty thousand insurgents, about five thousand of whom had guns of some sort or other, the rest being armed with pikes, with three pieces of cannon, commanded by Fathers John and Michael Murphy, attacked on all sides, at four o'clock in the evening, the king's forces in Arklov/. These insur- gents were the men who had totally de- feated the unfortunate Yfalpole's column at Tubberneering. This battle also Avas obstinately contested. General Needham, the king's general, was only prevented from retreating by his second in command, iSkerrit. These oflicers, be it remarked here in passing, were both Irishmen. Both sides claim the victory. Sir Jonah Banington tenns the fight "a drawn battle." Miles Byrne says the insurgents won, but admits that they did not follow up their victory with Aagour. Possibly their ardour was drmiped by the death of Father Alichael Murphy, who fell as he was bravely leading them to the attack. The brave Esmond Ryan, who skiKully directed the three pieces of rebel artillery, was wounded. Possibly, if they had pos- sessed an energetic commander to lead them on to Dublin, it might have been aU over with British rule in Ireland. Much has been said by the partisans of England of the cruelties perpetrated by the insurgents in "VVexford town while their short-hved republic had sway there. These cruelties have been grossly exag- gerated; but if all that has been asserted against them by their enemies were true, their crimes would not equal in number a third of those perpetrated by the English and tlie Orange Ascendency faction against the Irish people. The Rev. Mr. Gordon is inclined to set down the num- ber of persons executed without law in Wexford, during the insurgent regime, at one hundred and one. These were exe- cuted on the principle of retaliation. Mr. Mitchel justly remarks: — "Probably ten times that number of innocent country- people had been, during the same three weeks, murdered in cold blood by the yeomanry." 1 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 159 The insurgents of Wexford were distri- buted in several camps. The chief of these was that in the centre at Vinegar Ilill, on the banks of the Slaney, at the foot of which eminence hes the town of Enniscorthy. Here Father Phihp Roche commanded. On the 21st of June, the Commander-in-chief of the royal forces, Lieutenant-general Lake, having concen- trated from all quarters — Aiklow, lloss, and elsewhere — the different bodies of troops under Lieutenant-general Dimdas, Major-generals Sir James Duff and Lof- tus. Johnson and Eustace, to the number of thirteen thousand men (he had deemed twenty thousand necessary), advanced to the attack of the rebel camp. Eustace and Johnson were to attack Enniscorthy; the other columns were to ascend the hill. The rebels had a feAV pieces of half-dis- abled artillery. About two thousand were armed with firearms of one sort or an- other, but the vast majority had nothing better than pikes. Their supply of am- munition was scanty. In spite of these great disadvantages, they made a gallant stand. Even Su- Archibald Alison, Tory and enemy of the Irish cause though he is, admits that they fought much better than could have been expected under the circmnstances. Their leaders encouraged them by words, their women by cries. They gave the enemy back defiant shouts as they faced with despairing valom' the storm of shot and shell that burst on the four sides of their position. Lake's horse was shot under him ; many of his officers were, killed or wounded; some ran away or hid themselves. But, in spite of the intrepid front sliewn by the uisurgents, the royal troops steadily mounted the hill. Their superior armament at length prevailed over the haK-defenceless crowd of untrained peasants. The latter broke and abandoned their position. It was fortunate for them that the non-arrival of General Needham's colvunn at its appointed time left a space open in their rear. Owing to this "the insurgents were enabled to retreat to Wexford through a country where they could not be pursued by cavalry or cannon." In short, they suffered no punishment worth speaking of in the pursuit. The battle of Vinegar Hill was the last engagement that took place of any great importance. On this occasion atrocities were committed on both sides. During the days preceding the battle the insur- gents in the camp at Vinegar Hill, mad- dened at seeing the track of the royal columns everywhei'e marked by havoc, conflagration, and ruin, shot or piked about eighty-four (some say more) of their prisoners. On the evenieg of the day of battle the royal troops, especially the Hessian mercenaries, committed fearful excesses in Enniscorthy, treating loyalists as badly as rebels. Their " most dia- bolical act' of this land was the firing of a house which had been used as an hospital by the insurgents, in which numbers of sick and wounded, who were unable to escape from the flames, v^ere burned to ashes" (Slitchel's Continuaiioii). The Reverend Mr. Gordon, however, states that he heard the burning was accidental. I have not space to enter into any details of the horrors that now took place. We have British breach of faith and British cruelty as of yore. W^e have our anti-Irish countrymen of the Ascend- ency faction emulating and outsti'ipping the English in the race of atrocity. Of course, we have occasional sanguinary reprisals by the rebels. The foreign di-a- goons of General Ferdinand Hompesch are perhaps the most savage of all. These brutal Germans not merely iU - treat women, but occasionally shoot them. Such was the fate of a respectable lady of Enniscoi'thy, at her own window — one Mrs. Stringer. "The rebels (though her husband was a royahst) a short time after took some of those foreign soldiers pris- oners, and piked them all, as they told them, '■ just to teach them how to shoot ladies^ ^' (Milchcl). The rebels are admitted by aE authorities to have been guiltless of out- rages against the fair sex. In those terrible days you might have seen along the roads dead men "with then- skulls split asunder, their bowels ripped open, and their throats cut across ;" dead women, around some of whom their sui'vivmg children were creeping and be- waihng; dead childi'en, too. In Gorey, one day, you might have seen the pigs devouring the bodies of nine men who had been hanged the day before. Several others recently shot lay there, some stiH breathing. The AVexford insurgents held out for some tune longer. Indeed, Dwyer and other outlaws braved the British Govern- ment for years in the mountain-fastnesses of Wicklow. I shall only, however, ere concludinfr this notice of the Wexford 160 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. outbreak, refer to one notable skirmish, that of BallyeUis, in which " that infernal regiment" of cavalry, as Miles Byrne properly styles them, the Ancient Britons, were, by a just retribution, cut to pieces to the last man. On the 29th of June the Irish, worn out by constant marches and half-starved, were on their march to Carnew. The Ancient Britons pursued them. "At BallyeUis, one mile from Carnew. the Ancient Britons, being in full gallop, charging, and as they thought dri\'ing all before tliem, to their great surprise were suddenly stopped by a barri- cade of cars thrown across the road, and at the same moment that the head of the column was thus stopped, the rear was attacked by a mass of pikemen, who sallied out from behind a wall, and com- pletely shut up the road, as soon as the last of the cavalry had passed. The remains or ruins of an old deer-park wall, on the right-hand side of the road, ran /ilong for about half-a-mile — in many parts it was not any more than three or four feet lugh, x\ll along the inside of this our ,<;unsmen and pikemen were placed. On the left-hand side of the road there was an immense ditch, with swampy ground, which few horses could be found to leap. In this advantageous situation for our men the battle began- — the gunsmen, half covered, firing from behind the wall, whilst the English cavalry, though well mounted, could only make use of their carbines and pistols, for with their sabres they were unable to ward off the thrusts of our pikemen, who sallied out on them in the most determined manner. "Thus, in less than an hour, this in- famous regiment, which had been the horror of the country, was siain to the liist imvci, as well as the few yeomanry >cavalry who had the courage to take part in the action; for all those who quit their liorses and got into the fields were fol- lowed and piked on the marshy ground. The greater part of the numerous cavalry ■corps which accompanied the Ancient Britons kept on the rising ground, to the right side of the road, at some distance, diiring tlie battle ; and as soon as the result of it was known, they fled in the most cowardly way in every direction, both dismayed and disappointed that they had no opportunity on this memor- able day of murdering the stragglei's, as was their custom on such occasions. 1 say * memorable,' for during the war no action occurred which made so great a sensation in the co;?,ntry — as it proved to the enemy, I that whenever our pikemen v/ere well commanded and kept in close order, they were invulnerable. And, besides, it served to elate the courage and desire of our men to be led foi'thwith to new combats."* I could not deny myself the pleasure of giving the reader these ex- tracts, which relate the annihilation of the Ancient Britons. Their fate was an in- stance of true poetic justice. I remember my father telling me how he had met a retired trooper of the Ancient Britons in Wales, years after these events. The fellow had probaly saved his life by being absent on the day of the combat of BallyeUis. My father amused himself by getting this survivor of the ruffian band to talk of his Irish campaign. The old sinner complained bitterly that the Go- vernment had deceived his comrades and himself. He romanced about some pro- mise having been made to them, to the effect that they should each get an estate in Ireland as a reward for their services. These consisted chiefly in robberies, house - burnings, cold - blooded throat- cuttings, and licentious deeds of aU sorts. " And sure you did get estates! Your comrades did, at all events," said my father. " Estates ! No, they didn't," quoth the Ancient Briton, opening his eyes in astonishment. "•What estates did they get?" " Didn't every man of them get six feet of ground — his own length — at all events? " Mr. Mitchel makes the following valu- able observations at the close of his narrative of the rebellion of '98: — " It is to be remarked of this insurrection in AVexford that scarcely any of its leaders were ' United Irishmen.' Father Murphy, who began it, and some fifteen other clergymen, who took an active part in it, not only were not ' United Irishmen,' but had done their utmost to discourage and break up that society- — in some cases even refusing the sacrament to those who were members. Therefore, that insurrec- tion was not the result of a conspiracy to make an insurrection, but of the acts of the Government to provoke one. " Next, it is to be observed that this was not a Popish rebellion, although • Memoirs of Miles Byrne. THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 161 t-veiy effort was made to give it a sec- tarian character — first, by disarming and disgracing the Catholic yeomanry ; next, hy burning chapels and maltreating priests ; and further, by the direct incite- ments and encouragement given to the Orange yeomanry (who were brought into the couiity for the purpose) to prac- tise their favourite plan of exterminating Catholics. Yet some of the most trusted leaders of the people were Protestants — as Harvey, Grogan, one of the two Col- cloughs, Antony Perry, and Keogh, commandant of Wexford. There was, it is trite, one Protestant church defaced, as we have seen, but not till long after .several Catholic chapels had been demo- lished. It may be affirmed that whatever there were of religious rancour in the contest Wfis the work of the Government tlirough its Orange alUes, and with the express purpose of preventing a union of Irishmen of all creeds — a thing which is felt to be incompatible with British Government in Ireland." This Wexford insurrection, when con- sidered in relation to its ultimate conse- (juences, is an instance which may be adduced as tending to refute the widely- prevalent, but very erroneous notions, tJiat unsuccessful rebellions are invari- ably injurious to the fortunes of a country, and that the men who originate them are criminal, as bringing on their native land the direst calamities. Foolish notions of pusillanimous spuits, of beef- and-pudding patriots ! Men who in good faith have fought stoutly and bravely for their country may rest assured that they Jiave done their duty, and have deserved well, whether their efforts have been crowned ■with triumph or lost in ruin; Mid it is a mistake to believe that good results to that country will not eventually spi'ing up proportionate to their heroic elforts. it is true that men labouring to free their country ought always to open their eyes to the dangers and difficulties before them. They should measure theii" own strength and that of their antagon- ists, and make every preparation possible imder the circumstances, ere risking the i«sue of battle. Thus they may most reasonably hope to brave and overcome ".he tiials and contingencies of a perilous crisis. But, on the other hand, if they M-ait till the visible resovu-ces of their country be a match for those of the enemy, they will have to wait for ever; for the visible resources of an oppressed nation can never equal those of its oppressor. It is the duty of patriots, in short, daringly to strike for freedom whenever fortune gives them a decent opportunity, and whenever they feel the spirit of manhood alive and strong in their hearts and in the hearts of their followers. They should bear in mind that if once the delirium of patriotic enthusiasm fiires the soul, it braces the arm with triple strength, sv/ells smaU resources to giant stature, and enables men to perform prodigies. " God gives not the race to the swift, nor the battle to the strong."' In truth, the nations or individuals who, at all hazards, strike boldly and manfully to win or to guard liberty, always come off better in the long run than submissive dastards. The outbreak of '98, though at the time disastrous, was ultimately a source of benefit to the county Wexford. Hear and mark the following passages from that essay of our noble patriot, Thomas Davis, called Memorials of Wexford: — " 'Twixt Croghan-Kinshela and Hook Head, 'twixt Carnsore and Mount Lein- Bter, there is- as good a mass of men as ever sustained a State by honest franchises, by peace, virtue„and intelligent industry, and as stout a mass as ever tramped througli a stubborn battle. There is a county where we might seek more of stonny romance, and there is a county where prospers a shrewder economy, but no county in Ireland is fitter for freedom than V/exford. " They are a peculiar people, these Wexford men. Then- blood is for the most part English and Welsh, though mixed with the Danish and Gaelic; yet they are Irish in thought and feeling. They are a Catholic people, yet on excellent terms with their Protestant landlords. Outrages are unknown, for though the rents are high enough, they are not unbearable by a people so in- dustrious and skilled in farming. "Go to the fair, and you will meet honest dealing and a look that heeds no lordliug's frown, for the Wexford men have neither the base bend nor the baser craft of slaves. Go to the hustings, and you vv'Ul see open and honest voting — no man shrinking or crying for con- cealment, or extorting a bribe under the name of his expenses. Go to their farms, and you will see a snug homestead, kept 6 162 THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. clean, prettily sheltered (much what you'd see in Down), more green crops than even in Ulster, the National School and the Repeal Reading-room weU filled, and every religious duty regarded. " Wexford is not all it might be, or all that, with more education and the life- hope of nationality, it will be. * * * Yet, take it for all in all, it is the most prosperous, it is the pattern county of the South. * * * " Nor are we indifJerent to the memories of Wexford. It owes much of its peace and prosperity to the war it sustained. It rose in '98 with little organization against intolerable wrong; and though it was finally beaten by superior forces, it taught its aristocracy and the Govern- ment a lesson not easily forgiven, to be sure, but far harder to be forgotten — a lesson that popular anger could strike hard as well as sigh deeply, and that it was better to conciliate than provoke those who even for an hour had felt their strength. The red rain made Wexford's HARVEST GROW. Theirs was no treacherous assassination, theirs no stupid riot, theirs no pale mutiny. They rose in mass, and swept the country by sheer force. "Nor in their sinking fortunes is there anything to blush at. k^cullabogue was not burned by the fighting men. "Yet nowhere did the copper sun of that July burn upon a more heart-piercing sight than a rebel camp." He then vividly paints the aspect of a camp of Wexford peasants in '98 — the gray frieze-coated thousands "scattered on a hilltop or screened in a gap," with memories maddened by wrongs and tor- tures, hope dying out, " their brows full of gloomy resignation." Then they are ill-armed and almost destitute of powder. " They have no potatoes rijie, and they have no bread — their food is the worn cattle they have crowded there, and which the first skirmish may rend from them. There are women and children seeking shelter — seeking those they love." Worst of all, they want skilful leaders. Davis calls the leaders " busier, feebler, less knowing, less resolved than the women and children." But stiU, amid all these disadvantages, their worth was precious as gold seven times tried in the furnace. Each peasant of that woe-stricken crowd was as true as steel. The sympathetic genius of the tender and manly Davis pays eager homage to their fidelity and valour in the following eloquent outburst : — " Great hearts! how faithful ye were! how ye bristled up when the foe came on! how ye set your teeth to die as his shells and round-shot fell steadily! and with how firm a cheer ye dashed at him, if he gave you any chance at ail of a grapple ! From the wild burst with which ye triumphed at Oulart Hill, down to the faint gasp wherewith the last of your last column died in the corn-fields of Meath, there is nothing to shame your valour, your faith, or your patriotism. You wanted arms, and you wanted leaders. Had you had thAn, you would have guarded a green flag in Dublin Castle a week after you beat AValpole. Isolated, unorganized, un- ofiicered, half-armed, girt by a swarm of foes, you ceased to fight, .but you neither betrayed nor repented. Your sons need not fear to speak of '98." In the rebellion of '98 we find that peculiar feature of all past Irish revolts^ and civil wars, on which. I have dwelt so often already in the preliminary, portion of this work. Mere fractions of the Irish people contended for freedom against the whole might of England, assisted (alas!}^ by other sections of the Irish nation, chiefly the Orange yeomanry and militia — in other words, the selfish, sordid faction of the Ascendency. At the first glance this appears an altogether gloomy and depressing fact, without the slighest redeeming element; and gloomy beyond all doubt it is to a v*ry great degree- Still, after all, the existence of these very divisions, if viewed from a certain peculiar point of view, is suggestive of a con- clusion absolutely encouraging to the Irish nationalist. This rebellion of '98 may almost be styled exclusively a re- bellion of the county Wexford. The •revolts ia the other Leinster counties were iamiediately suppressed. Even the insurrections in Antrim and Downshire, which, in consequence of the arrest of some of the leaders, were delayed for a couple of weeks after the risings else- where, were suppressed long before the termination of the Wexford struggle. The men of Antrim county attacked the town of that name on the 7th of June; they were victorious at first, but finally defeated. The men of Downshire were near succeeding in the skirmish of Saint- field. They were finally defeated, imder the command of Henry Munroe of Lis- THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 163 burn, near BaUinahinch. Lord O'Neill (a king's O'NeUl) was killed at Antrim. Shortly after the northern insurrection was suppressed. Henry Joy McCracken, the gallant Presbyterian, who led the men of Antrim, was executed in Belfast. The ferave Presbyterian, Munroe, Avho com- manded the Downshire rebels, was hanged at his own door in Lisburn, his wife and family being in the house. A short-liyed insurrection hkewise broke out in the -county Cork. The insm-gents well nigh de- feated the Westmeath militia, under their Lieutenant-colonel, Sir Hugh O'Reilly (a king's O'Reilly), atrthe village of Bally- mascarty, on the 19th of June. It is obvious, then, that durmg the greater portion of the time the rebellion lasted Wexford county had to bear the brunt of the contest single-handed, or almost single-handed. At that period England had in Ireland a mihtary force of not less than 137,000 troops. For various reasons, it would be imposssible for her to muster such a force in Ireland at pi'esent. Lord Castlefeagh did not think a single' man of those could be spared, even in February, 1799. The rebellion and its suppression, and other measures immediately connected with the rebellion, cost the Government £21,5v3,547. It ia calculated that from 50,000 to 70,000 human beings perished, of whom a large proportion where on the side of the Government, probably not less than 19,700 men. If the United Irishmen, at a time when Ireland possessed a vastly inferior population to what she has even at present, not haK what she had diu-ing the Repeal agitation of '43 — or, to speak more accurately, if, in spite of the usual Irish divisions, the county Wexford in- surgents were able to give England, backed by such mighty resources in mpn and money, such trouble to put them down — if, in fact, that small county was able to put British dominion in Ireland in jeopardy, what would have "been the result if united Ireland, from Rathlin to Cape Clear, from Ben Hedir to the Isles of Arran, had struck for in- dependence ? Where would tke supremacy of England have been ere the year '98 • departed? Why, even as things^ were, if . the rebels had not finally lost, by their mad and wicked drunkenness, their thrice- "won victory of New Ross, Kilkenny and the South woidd in all probability have been ill arms. Could England have then prevailed, considering the difficulty she found in crushing Wexford alone? At least the Irish could then have held out till the arrival of the French. Enghsh supre- macy would even have been in a critical position, if the rebels had at once followed up their success over Walpole at Tubber- neering, or if, at the battle of Arklow, they had possessed a skilful and energetic commander. In the writings of Dr. Madden and others the reader will find the fullest and most minute details of the terrible events of those times: how, after the insurrec- tion was crushed, a reign of terror .pre- vailed for a few weeks m New Ross, Ennis- corthy, Gorey, NcTvtownbarry, and Wex- ford town; how multitudes were hanged and transported — among these Father John Redmond, who, so far from having taken a part in the rebellion, was looked on by the rebels as an enemy of their cause ; how this priest's body, after death, underwent the most indecent mutilation ; how Dublin was kept under military law while the insurrection lasted ; liow, indeed, it was terrorized and virtually ruled over by the detestable " triumraats " of Strr, Swan, and Sandys, the " three majors," as they were called; how these miscreants organized a band of informers, called "the battalion of testimony," or "the' majors' people," who took up their quarters, some in the Castle, some in a house opposite Kilmainham jail, called the "Stag House," and some, who could not be trusted v/ith liberty, in a portion of that prison called the "Stag Yard;" how the corrupt Sandys took bribes from the prisoners, in return for which he gave them petty indulgences or spared them some torture ; how floggings, even to the death, pitch -cappings, picketings, drew forth piercing shrieks from numberless miserable victims, day after day, in various places of torture throughout the city, the most notorious being the riding-school in Marlborough Sti-eet, pre- sided over by John Claudius Beresford, a member of the powerful house of Waterford. State trials, or rather the mockery of trials, fed the scaffolds. Those who were executed without any trial were not a whit more the victims of injustice than thosa who were condemned by forms of law. In defending the State prisoners Curran now won immortal glory. A throng of armed men generally filled the courts. 164 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. He would often have to proceed with his defence at midnight, exhausted in body and mind. While the lamplight streamed over faces menacing, or at least hostile to him, he would denounce in words of fire the villainy of the informers and the villainy of the corrupt and tyrannous Government that employed them, fearless of all intimidation and danger. During the trial of Oliver Bond, a clash of arms was heard amongst the military in the court. "What is that?" Curran sternly demanded. Some of those (the soldiers) who were nearest to the advocate appeared, from their looks and gestures, about to offer him personal violence ; upon which, fixing his eye sternly upon them, he exclauned, " You may assassinate, but you shall not intimidate me." — Life of Curran, by his Son. It was at the hour of twelve at night that, worn-out with fifteen hours of anxiety, in a densely-thronged court., hot to suffocation with the breath of mid- summer, he was called on to commence his speech in defence of the brothers Sheares. "My lord," said he, "before I address you or the jury, I would wish to make one preliminary observation; it may be an observation only, it may be a request; for myself lam indifferent, but I feel I am now unequal to the duty — I am sinking under the weight of it. W"e all know the character of the jury; the interval of their separation must be short, if it should be deemed necessary to separate them. I protest I have sunk under this trial. If I must go on, the court must bear with me, the jury may also bear with me ; I will go on until I sink. But after a sitting of sixteen hours, with only twenty minutes' interval, in these times I should hope it would not be thought an obtrusive request to hope for a few hours' interval for repose, or rather for recollection." Lord Carleton, the presiding judge, says: "What say you, Mr. Attorney- general?" Mr. Attorney-general (the sanguinary Toler, who had been appointed attorney- general a day or two before): — "My lords, I feel such public inconvenience from adjourning cases of this kind that I cannot consent. The counsel for the prisoners cannot be more exhausted than those for the prosecution. If they do not choose to speak to the evidence, we ehall give up our right to speak, and leave the matter to the court altogether. They have had two speeches already" (Mr. Ponsonby had oj^ened for Henry, and the celebrated Tlunket for John Sheares), " and leaving them unreplied tO' is a great concession." Lord Carleton: — "We would be glad to accommodate as much as possible. I am as much exliausted as any other, but we think it better to go on," Then the great patriot-advocate flamed into noble and consuming wrath. If his eloquence failed to save the lives of his hapless clients from "the packed jury and partizan judges " before whom they were arraigned, at least it has held up to execration, and will hold up through all time, the infamy of those who in '9iH sat in the "high places" in Ireland. Curran is the real victor. " Gentlemen of the jury, it seems that much," he thus began. " lias been con- ceded to us. (xod help us! I do not know what has been conceded to me, if so insignificant ,a person may have extorted tlie remark. Perhaps it is con- cession that I rise in such a state of mind and body, of collapse and deprivation, as to feel but a little spark of indignation raised by the remark that much has been conceded to the counsel for the prisoners — much has been conceded to the prisoners. Almighty and merciful God, who lookest down upon us! what are the times to which we are reserved, when we are told that much has been conceded to prisoners who are put upon their trial at a moment like this, of more darkness and niglit of the human intellect than a dark- ness of the natural period of twenty-four hours; that public convenience cannot spare a I'espite of a few hours to those who are accused for their lives, and that much has been conceded to the advocate, almost exhausted in the poor remarks which he has endeavoured to make upon, it. "My countrymen, I do pray you, by the awful duty which you owe your country, by that sacred duty which you owe your character (and I know how you feel it), I do obtest you, by the almighty God, to have mercy upon my client — to save him, not from guilt, but from the baseness of his accusers, and the pressure of the treatment under which I am sink- ing." The ShearseS were both found guilty and hanged. The draft of a stern pro- THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. 1G.5 clamation, got in the papers of John Sheares, was fatal to them. When found guilty they immediately fell into each other's arms. In his defence of Oliver Bond, on the 24th July, '98, Citrran thus denounced the infamous Reynolds : — "I know that Reynolds has laboured to establish a connection between the prisoner and the meeting held at his house. But how does he manage it? He brings forward asserted conversations with persons who cannot confront him — with MacCann, whom he sent to the grave, and "wTTh Lord Edward Fitz- gerald, whose premature death leaves his guilt a matter upon which justice dares not to pronounce. He has never told you that he has spoken to any of them in the presence of the prisoner. Are you then prepared — in a case of life and death, of honour and of infamy — to credit a vile informer, the perjurer of a hundred oaths, a wretch whom pride, honour, or religion could not bind? The forsaken prostitute of every vice calls upon you, with one breath, to blast the memory of the dead and to blight the character of tlie living. Do you think Reynolds to be a villain? It is true he dresses like a gentleman, and the confident expression of his countenance and the tones of his voice savour strong of growing authority. He measures his value by the coffins of his victims, and in the field of evidence appreciates his fame, as the Indian warrior does in fight, by the number of scalps with which he can swell his trimnphs. He calls upon you, by the solemn league of eternal justice, to accredit the purity of a conscience Avashed in his own atrocities. He has promised and betrayed; he has sworn and forsworn ; and whether his soul shall go to heaven or to hell, he seems alto- gether indifferent, for he teEs you that he has established an interest in both. He has told you that he has pledged hhnself to treason and to allegiance, and that both oaths has he contemned and broken. At this time, when Reason is aifrighted from her seat and giddy Pre- judice takes the reins — when the wheels of society are set in conflagration by the rapidity of their own motion — at such a time docs he call upon a jury to credit a testimony blasted by his own accusation. Vile, liowever, as this execrable informer must feel himself, history, alas! holds out too much encouragement to hia hopes; for, however base and however perjured, I recollect few instances, in cases betAveen the subject and the Crown, where informers have not cut keen and rode a while triumphant on public ])re- judice. I know of few instances wherein the edge of his testimony has not been fatal, or only blunted by the extent of its execution, and retiring from the public view beneath a heap of its own carnage. * * * I caution you against the greatest and most fatal revolution — that of putting the sceptre into the hands of the informer. These are probably the last words I shall ever speak to you (the orator here probably alludes to the ^'■inhuman interruptions'''' and menaces of the licentious soldiery in court, that had several times compelled him to stop his address for some tninutcs and sit down); but these last are directed to your salva- tion and that of your posterity. I tell you that the reign of the informer is the suppression of the law. My old friends, I tell you, that, if you surrender yourself to the mean and disgraceful instrumen- taUty of your own condemnation, you will mark yourselves fit objects of martial law — ^you will give an attestation to the British minister that you are fit for, and have no expectation of any other, than martial law, and your liberties will be flown, never, never to return! Your country will be desolated, or only become the jail of the living, until the informer, fatigued with slaughter and gorged with blood, shall shimber over the sceptre of perjury. Xo pen shall be found to undertake the disgusting office of your historian, and scrme future age shall ask. What became of Ireland? Do you not see that the legal carnage which takes place day after day has already depraved the feelings of your wretched population, which seems impatient and clamorous for the amusement of an execution ? It remains with you — in your determination it lies — whether that population shall be alone composed of four species of men — the informer to accuse, tlie jury to find guilty, the judge to condemn, and the prisoner to suffer. It regardeth not me what impressions your verdict shall m .ke on the fate of this country: but you it much regardeth. The observations I have offered — the warning I have held forth — I bequeath you with all the solemnity of a dying bequest; and oh I may the acquittal of your accused fellow- 16G THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. citizen, who seeks refuge in your verdict from the vampire who seeks to suck his blood, be a blessed and happy promise of speedy peace, confidence, and security to this wretched, distracted, and scK-devour- ing country!" In the above splendid specimen of for- ensic eloquence, Curran styles Reynolds "the perjurer of a hundred oaths." The list of his oaths, as given by himseK in this trial, in the course of his cross- examination by j\Ir. Curran, if it were not a- loathsome revelation of human debasement, would, in a certain curious way, be almost amusing. Q. (By Mi-. Curran): — "Can you just tot up the different oaths that you took upon either side?" — A. "I will give the particulars." Q. No; you may mention the gross?" — .-1. No ; I will mention the particulars. I took an oath of secresy in the county meeting — an oath to my captains, as colonel. After this I took an oath, it has been said — I do not deny it, nor do I say I took it, I was so alarmed ; but I would have taken one if required — when the United Irishmen were design- ing to kill me. I took an oath before that I had not betraj-ed the meeting at Bond's. After this I took an oath of allegiance." Q. " Had you ever taken an oath of allegiance before?" — A. "After this. I took an oath before the Privy Council. I took two, at different times, upon gi\dng informations respecting these trials. I have taken three since — one upon each of the trials — and, before I took any of them, I had taken the oath of allegiance." And many another oath the scoundrel swore before the State prosecutions of those days came to an end. His son was so foolish and impudent as to v/rite a life in defence of the wretch. Is it any wonder that a true-hearted United Irish- man, also named Re^^lolds, who, together with George Luby of Ovidstown, and the gallant Aylmer, the nephew of Sir Fenton Aylmer, led the rebels at the battle of Ovidstown, cursed his hard fate in hear- ing a name polluted by such a wretch as this thrice-accursed informer? On the morning following the trial of Bond, who was found guilty in spite of Curran's eloquent appeal, the revolt being now manifestly crushed, a negotiation . with the Government was opened by the State prisoners, and a compact entered into by Lord Clare, Lord Castlereagh, and Mr. Cooke on the part of the minis- ters, securing the hves of such of the leaders as might be willing to agree to the treaty. In consideration of this, these leaders were to describe the state of the affairs of the United Irishmen, as far as they could so, without in any degree compromising individuals. They were the more ready to agree to this treaty, as they were quite av/are that the informers had already disclosed to the Government nearly all the facts of importance con- nected with the conspiracy. Their prim- ary motive was to stop the Government butchery. Especially they were anxious to save the lives of Byrne and Oliver Bond, who were both under sentence of death. A delay or hitch, however, occurred in the negotiations, of which the Government took a base and cruel advantage. As Bond, Thomas Addis Emmet, and Byrne, with the wives of the two former, were breakfasting to- gether one morning in one of the rooms or cells of the prison, one of the prison functionaries entered and whispered some- thing in Byrne's ear. This fine young scion of the brave old Wicklow tribe, who was hardly more than twenty years of age, rose at once from table, asked the ladies gaUy to excuse him for a few moments, and left the room with the careless step of light-hearted youth. Before the expiration of a dozen minutes his spirit was in eternity. The whisper had announced to him that his hour of doom was come. His assumed airiness of manner in leaving the breakfast-table was to spare the ladies the shock of even suspecting that he left it to mount the scaffold. After his death the negotiations were resumed, and the compact was finally settled on the 29th. The Government, however, violated it in more ways than one. By means of their venal press and in their indemnity Act they represented the chiefs of the United Irislimen as confessing their guUt and supplicating pardon ; neither of Avhich they clid. In- stead of allowing them, according to the treaty, to go into exile, they held them prisoners in Dublm for a year, then sent them to Fort George, in Scotland, where they were detained till the treaty of Amiens, in 18U2. They were then suifered to go abroad. As for Oliver Bond, he derived no benefit from the compact, J THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. 167 any more than his young friend. He died in the Dublin prison of apoplexy, accordmg to the statement of the authori- ties — ^murdered, if credence is to be given to a rumour that was widely prevalent among the people of Dublin. Arthur O'Connor, in his celebrated letter to Lord Castlereagh, denounced the per- fidious conduct of the Government. This letter has never been replied to. We have already heard O'Connell relating an anecdote in connection with it. The infamous rule of Lord Camden had terminated the day before the battle of Vinegar Mill. On this day the Marquis of Cornwallis arrived in Ireland as viceroy and commander of the forces. After some time the severities against the people were somewhat relaxed. Indeed, some give the praise of high honour and great humanity to this nobleman. The history of his government of L-eland, however (especially viewed in the light thrown on it by his own letters, published some years ago in his Memoirs and Correspon- dence)^ is far from justifying this praise. Many a deed of unnecessary severity, not to say atrocity, disgraces his admin- istration. It was certainly somewliat fortunate for the suffering people that General Lake was removed from his command in Wexford, on the 28th of June. General Hunter, who succeeded him, seems to have been a just and humane officer. Protections were now, given to those of the rebels who chose to submit. An amnesty bill, clogged indeed with large exceptions, followed shortly aftfer. The machinations of the inveterate faction of the Ascendency neutralized to a gi-eat extent whatever element of clemency was in these measures. Hunter, no doubt, did his best to protect the people and tran- quillize the distracted districts under his command. He put a stop to the villany of some of the rabid country gentlemen who dared to tear up protections given to the peasantry, by very properly threaten- ing to flog them at the cart's tail. A parson came to him with a fabricated story, ingeniously circumstantial, of an intended "massacre" of the Protestants. The general heard him out patiently, and then sternly replied: — ''Mr. Massacre, M you do not prove to me the circumstances you have related, 1 shall get you punished in the most exemplary manner for raising false alanns, which have already proved so destructive to tJiis unfortunate country." The mendacious wretch only procured forgiveness by abject suppUcation and professions of contrition. The general, however, rendered a still more signal service to the cause of human- ity. He saved the dense population of the large district in the county Wicklow, called the Macomons, from absolute ex- termination. Owing to misrepresentations made by the Ascendency magistrates in and around Gorey, the viceroy sent orders to the commanders stationed near this district to form a cordon round it, and slaughter or drive into the sea the popu- lation, alike men, women, and children. Brigade-major Fitzgerald, acting under the directions of General Hunter, brought to light the savage misrepresentiitions concocted by the Ascendency faction; and, in consequencre of his timely dis- covery, the general, to whose disj^-etion the execution of the infei'nal "exemplary measiu-e" had been confided, prevented it from being carried out. Hawtry White, too, the rutiian captain of the Ballaghkeen cavalry, and a justice of the peace for the county Wexford, nearly "came to grief" in the hands of the general, for indulging in the pastime of fabricating lying rumours. A general rising, he said, was about to take place. Some of the commanders are alarmed. Fitzgerald investigates as to the truth of "White's statement also, and reports that it is false. Hunter orders the hoary sinner to be brought to ^V'ex- ford and put under arrest. Hawtry per- sists in his mendacity. The rebels are encamped, he says, in a certain island. Orders are given to conduct him to the island, but (prodigy of prodigies!) the island has vanished beneath the waves — at least, no such island is any longer visible. Hunter is about to have old Hawtry tried by court-martial. That woi'tliy is with great difficulty saved by the supplications of a crowd of gentlemen and ladies, who plead that his great age might account for his credulity. In spite of these instances of humane con- duct towards the people on the part of officers on the Government side, the number of attainders, executions, and other enormities during the vice-royalty of Lord Cornwallis was great. If I had space to quote a few of the admissions contained in his own letters, the truth of this statement would be manifest to every candid reader. Meanwhile the gallant and iintiring 168 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. Tone was labouring with miglit and main to urge on tlie Government and generals of France to fit out and send another expedition to the assistance of his now sorely-tried countrymen. Unluckily for Ireland, tlie French Directory was a feeble Government. The affairs of the republic were at this period in a state of great confusion. The most energetic and ablest of all her military chiefs, the re- nowned Bonaparte, was far away in Egypt. It was only towards the close of June, when the insurrection was almost crushed, that Tone was summoned to Paris to consult with the ministers on the organi- zation of a new expedition. It was ar- ranged that small bodies should be sent from different ])orts to keep up the insm-- rection in Ireland till the arrival of a favourable opportunity for landing the main body, held in reserve under General Kilmaine, an Irishman (his original name was Jennings) and an officer of great skill, who had won distinction in the memoi*able campaigns of Bonaparte in Italy and on other theatres of v*^arfare. Tliis plan, whatever its merits may have been, even if it had been carried out completely and judiciously, was adopted too late to be of much service to the cause of Irish independence. Great in- dignation was naturally enough felt in Ireland at the non-fulfilment of their promises by the French Government. At last, however, on the 22nd of August, a paltry expedition reached the coasts of Connaught. They landed, and at once took the little town of Killala. The expedition did not number more than a thousand men. The son of "Wolfe Tone, who, after arriving at manhood, served with distinguished bravery in the later campaigns of Napoleon, gives the follow- ing account of the origin of General Humbert's desperate enterprise: — "The final ruin of the expedition was hm'ried by the precipitancy and indiscretion of a brave but ignorant and imprudent officer. This anecdote, which is not generally known, is a striking instance of the dis- order, indiscipline, and disorganization which began to prevail in the French army. Humbert, a gallant soldier of fortune, but whose heart was better than his head, impatient of thetdelays of his Government, and fired by the recitals of the Irish refugees, determined to begin the enterprise on liis own resj^onsibility, and thus oblige the Directorj to second or to abandon him." I may add to this that Tone's brother, Matthew, along with a few other Irishmen, accompanied Hum- bert's expedition. English writers are fond of dwelling on whatever instances they can find, by ransacking histories and memoirs, of rapacity and plunder on the part of the French soldiery. We have the authority of Dr. Stock, the Protestant bishop of Killala, that nothing could surpass the discij^line and good conduct of Humbert's Frenchmen. He tells us that they re- sisted every temptation to plunder, though in his house, called the castle, wliich was made the French general's head -quarters, valuable articles of all sorts, including a sideboard of plate, lay within their reach. Not a single article was touclied. Their indifference, indeed, about religious sen- timents and ceremonies, as contrasted with the devotion of their allies to the Catholic faith, was curious. Here is a passage from the bishop's description of the invaders. The bishop's candid testi- mony, it seems, oft'ended the English authorities, and prevented him from being translated to a more lucrative see: — "In- telligence, activity, temperance, patience, to a surprising degree, appeared to be combined in the soldiery that came over with Humbert, together with the exactest obedience to discipline; yet, if you except the grenadiers, they had nothing to catch the eye. Their stature for the most part was low ; their complexion pale and sal- low, their clothes much the worse for tlfe wear. To a superficial observer they would have appeared almost incapable of enduring any hardship. These were the men, however, of whom it was presently observed that they could be well content to live on bread or potatoes, to drink water, to make the stones of the street their bed, and to sleep in their clothes with no cover but the canopy of heaven. One-half of their number had served in Italy under Bonaparte ; the rest were from the asmy of the Khine." A green flag was hoisted over the castle gate, with the insciiption, Erin go Bragh. {Ireland for ever). Some Irish recruits at once joined the French. The first comers, about a thousand, got full clothing and arms; the second batch, the same, minus, however, boots and shoes; the third, arms alone. Pro- perty was to be protected; supplies of money were expected from Irauce; THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL, 169 meanwhile, whatever was purchased was pa'd for by drafts on the coming Irish Directory. Humbert lost no time in pushing for- Avard into the interior, with a view to rally the Irish around him. He estab- lished small posts behind him. The garrison of Ballina fled at his approach, and hundreds of the peasantry joined him, eagerly receiving arms and ammuni- tion, lie next advanced to attack the English army, six thousand strong, at Castlebar. He was expected to arrive by one road: he chose another. When the French and Irish deployed from the pass of Barnagee they found that the English had moved out of Castlebar. It seemed for a moment hopeless to think of en- countering such a force. Indeed, if the English had done their duty that morning, the French would have been driven back into the pass, perhaps compelled to make an 'immediate surrender; but the royal troops wei'e demoralized and disorganized by their licentious habits. Cruelty and cowardice go together. Besides, they were specially discontented that morning, seeing that General Lake had just arrived and superseded General Hutchinson, who was their favourite. Sir Jonah Barring- ton gives the following description of this battle of minutes, popularly known as the "Races of Castlebar": — "The troops were moved to a position about a mile from Castlebar, which to an unskilled person seemed unassailable. They had scarcely been posted witli nine pieces of cannon, when the French appeared on the opposite side of a small lake, descend- ing the hill in columns, directly in front of the English. Our artillery played on them with effect. The French kept up a scattered fire of musketry, and took up the attention of our army by irregular movements. In half an hour, however, our troops were alarmed by a movement of small bodies to turn their left, which, being covered by walls, they had never apprehended. The orders given were either mistaken or misbelieved; the Hue wavered, and in a few minutes the whole of the royal army was completely routed; tlie flight of the infantum was as that of a mob; all the royal artillery was taken; our army fled to Castlebar; the heavy cavalry galloped amongst the infantry and Lord Jocelyn's light dragoons, and made the best of tlieir way through thick and thin to Castlebar and towards Tuam, pur- sued by such of the French as could get horses to carry them. " About nine hundred French and some peasants took possession of Castlebar without resistance, except from a few highlanders stationed in the town, who were soon destroyed." Roden's Foxhunters learned, in this brief battle, that it was one thing to ride down defenceless peasants in Meath, and another to figlit troops like the war- bronzed veterans of the armies of Italy and the Rhine. The panic-stricken fugi- tives never halted till they had put forty miles between themselves and Castlebar. Even at Tuam tliey did not think them- selves quite safe from the French. They hurried on to Athlone. In short, fear, as it were, giving them wings, they passed over seventy miles in twenty-seven hours. Immediately after the battle, the French gave a ball and a supper to the ladies of Castlebar. It was well attended — dec orum observed. "The French," says Sir John Bamngton, "paid ready-money for every- thing; in fact, the French army estab- lished the French character wherever they occupied." But they also established districts with elective magistrates, and formed a pro- visional government, with Mr. Moore of Moore Hall, in Mayo, as president. Pro- clamations were issued iu the name of the " Irish republic." Thus, we see that the patriotism of the eloquent George Henry ^loore of Moore Hall — who made such generous and strenuous exertions to rouse the public to force English minis- ters to liberate the so-caUed 1' enian State- prisoners, and whose sudden death, in 1870, occasioned such regret in the ranks of the Irisli National party — was here- ditary. The English and their party in Ireland were now thorough^ alarmed. The reign of cruelty recommenced. Cornwallis drew together a great army to crush Humbert. It is unnecessary to follow this officer's footsteps in detail. After various movements and some further successes, he penetrated into the heart of the island. He passed the Shannon with the view of reaching (iranard, iu the county Longford, where an insur- rection had already broken out. It was rumoured aGout the same time that forty thousand people were ready to assemble at the Crooked Wood, in Westmeath, and join the French on their arrival in 170 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. that county, and then march -with them on DubUn. All might, indeed, have turned out well and gloriously if Hum- bert's force had been somewhat larger; but, small as it was, it was not speedily surrounded. Lake and Crawford were in Humbert's rear; Cornwallis cut him off from Granard. At least thirty thousand troops were investing hun on all sides. For the honour of the French arms he made a last stand at Ballinamuck, in Longford. He combated against over- whelming odds for more than half an hour, and then surrendered. Early in the fight he had taken Lord Roden and a body of dragoons prisoners. At this time all the Frenchmen with him were 746 privates and 96 officers. The Irish insurgents who had accompanied hmi, being excluded from quarter, fled in all directions. About five hundred of them were cut to pieces. These events took place on the 8th of September. Executions and banishments followed. ]Mr. Moore, who was taken on the field, had to go into exile. Matthew Tone, Bartholomew Teeling, General Bellcw, Mr. Richard Bourke, and others were hanged. Thus ended the insurrections of '98, provoked by inhuman tyranny, and suppressed with unheard-of barbarity. The wrongs of the people of Ireland at this tune, and the high-toned and seK- sacrificing patriotism of most of their leaders, cannot but excite, in every gener- ous and unprejudiced mind, wrath against the savagery of British tyranny, and sympathy for the struggle of the oppressed race agamst such desperate odds. While these events were taking place in Ireland, the French Directory, in the first instance perplexed by Humbert's sudden attempt, and then encouraged by his early successes, were making desperate efforts to hurry off the division of General Hardy, at Brest, three thousand strong, to his support. The na\y and arsenals of France, however, were in such a state of disorder at this time, that the 2Uth of September had arrived before a squadron, consisting of one ship of the line and eight frigates, commanded by Commo- dore Bompart, and having on board General Hardy and his three thousand men, was ready to sail from Camaret Bay. Before this, indeed, some Irish had sailed in a fast-sailing vessel, with Napper Tandy at their head. Arriving at Rathlin Isle, off the northern coast of Ireland, they heard of Humbert's sur- render.. They contented themselves with scattering some proclamations, and escaped to Norway. But now, in an evil hour for Ireland, the expedition of Bompart and Hardy sailed, with Tone on board Bom- part's ship, the " Hoche," of seventy-four guns. So little precaution had the French Government taken to preserve due secresy, that, even before he had sailed. Tone read in the Bicn Informe^ a Parisian newspaper, full particulars of the preparations. His own name was even mentioned in full; also the fact of his being on board the " Hoche." He saw little prospect of the success of the enterprise: he had little faith in small armaments, where the diffi- culties to be overcome were so great. Still, as he had always said, that if the French Government were to send only a corporal's guard to Ireland, he would deem it his duty to accompanj'- them, he could not refuse to go with General Hardy. He was resolved, however, if he were taken captive, to save himself from what he deemed the ignominy of being hanged. Bompart, a brave and skilful seaman, managed to reach the entrance of Lough- swilley, in the county Donegal. He might reasonably expect comparatively little vigilance on the part of the English in this quarter. But, as ill-luck would have it, at break of day, on the 11th of October, Sir John Borlase Warren, com- manding a squadron of six sail of the line, one razee of sixty guns and two frigates, bore down upon him. There was no escape for the French line-of-battle ship, Bompart signalled to his frigates to escape through the shallow Avater, and prepared, though of course hopeless of success, to fight alone for the glory of the French flag against the British squadron. A boat from the "Biche" schooner came on board for Bompart's last orders. The " Biche," being the smallest vessel in the squadron, had the best chance of escape. In effect, she did succeed in escaping. All the French officers earnestly besought Tone to get on board of her. " Our contest is hopeless," said they. " We will be prisoners of war, but what will become of youV" " Shall it be said," replied Tone, " that I fled while the French were fighting the battles of my country?" No persuasion could induce him to go on board the "Biche." He re- TnE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 171 Bolved to fight to the last on board the " Hoche." And now one of the most desperate sea-fights ever fought began. Two men- of-war pursued two of the French frigates, the "Lone" and " Resolue," while the "Hoche" was speedily sur- rounded by four ships of the line and a frigate. With heroic obstinacy the French line-of-battle ship resisted for six hours. Exposed to the unceasing fire of the whole British squadron, her masts and rigging were shot away, blood flowed like water on her slippery decks, the cockpit was crowded with wounded. At last, with five feet of water in her hold, her rudder shot away, her dismounted batteries unable to reply to the mcessant fire of the enemy, she drifted a helpless v/reck at the mercy of the waves and the foemen. In this condition she struck. Jlost of the French frigates were also talcen. All through the battle. Tone, who commanded one of the batteries, fought with desperation, like a«.man (so the French oficers afterwards reported) seeking to rush upon death. The prisoners were marched to Letter- kenny. At first their seemed a proba- bility that Tone would escape recognition, and pass as one of the French oificers. His language and appearance were now thoroughly Freftch. Besides, the general impression seems to have been that he had perished in the action. It was reserved for an Orange grandee and magistrate. Sir George iiill, who had been Tone's fellow- student in Trinity CoUege, Dublin, to undertake the disgraceful office of point- ing him out to the police. It appears, from Dr. Jdadden's accounts of the secret- service money, that this titled detective was a regular secret agent of the Govern- ment, and received various private pay- ments for performance of his dirty spy functions. Such were, at least, some of the aristocrats of the Ascendency faction in the days of '98. Tone's beti-ayal happened in this vrise: — The Earl of Cavan, who commanded in the district, invited the French officers to breakfast. Tone was at the table unrecognized ; not long, however, for Sir George enters, foUov/ed by police-ofliicers. The titled spy scrutinizes the faces of the company narrowly. In a moment he advances to Tone, and says, " ]\lr. Tone, I am very iidjipy to see you." Tone rises at 03ice, and replies with great composure, " Sir George, I am happy to see you. How are Lady Hill and your family ? " When he was brought into the next room, which was full of . military, an English general basely ordered him to be ironed as a traitor. Tone, stung to momentary wrath by this cowardly insult, flung off his uniform and exclaimed: "These fetters shall never degrade the revered insignia of the free nation which I have served ! " He then speedily became quite calm, held forth his arms to the irons ; and vfhen they were on, he said: " For the cause which I have embraced, I feel prouder to wear these chains than if I were decorated with the star and garter of England." Fettered and on horseback, guarded by the dragoons, he was at once brought to Dublin. Captain Thackeray, after- wards a parson and rector of Dundalk, commanded the escort, a body of Cam- bi'idgeshire cavalry. ]\Iany a time, long after, the captain-rector talked of this journey, declaring that Tone was the most delightful travelling -companion he ever came across. Before I tell the fate of Tone, I think it proper here, at the close of the account of the French expeditions and descents, to quote a paragrai^h from JVIr. Mitchel's Continuation of MacGeogliegan, containing some reflections on Humbert's expedition. They anticipate some of my own thoughts on the subject, and they place them in a more forcible light than I could pretend to do: — " From the terror which this handful of French troops inspired, we may form some idea of the effects which might have followed the landing of even Humbert's little force anywhere in the south of Ireland, while the Wexford men were gallantly holding their own county, or we may conjecture what might have been the result if Hiun- bert had brought with him ten thousand men instead of one thousand, even in that month of August, crushed as the people had been by the savage suppression of their insurrection— or if Grouchy had marched inland with his six thousand men at the moment wlien the people were eager to begin the rising, and the English had but three thousand regular troops in the island. It seemed as if England were destined to have all the luck, and either by favour of the elements or the miscalculations erf her enemies, to escape, 172 niE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. one after another, the deadly perils that for ever beset her empire." And noAv I think the reader Avill not grudge my devoting a page or two to the closing scene of the life of Thcobold Wolfe Tone, one of our greatest and noblest men of action — certainly the greatest and noblest that appeared from the death of Owen Roe O'Neill to the hour of his own melancholy fate. The English decided on trying him by court- martial — in other words, illegally. Tone appeared before the court-martial in tlie unifoi'ni of a chef de brigade (chief of brigade). His noble demeanour Avon the respect, and even admiration, of his very enemies. The gallant and humane Sir John Moore, who afterwards fell gloriously in the moment of victory at Corunna, has left on record his admiration of the elevation of soul displayed by Tone. When asked to plead guilty or not guilty, Tone admitted all the facts, "strip- ping the charge of its technical word traitorouslyy He declined troubling them with any defence, but asked permission to read an address, giving his own view of the course he had j^ursued. This re- quest being acceded to by the court, he thus began: — " il//-. President and gentlemen of the court-martial: — I mean not to give you the trouble of bringing judicial proof to convict me legally of having acted in hostiiity to the Government of His Bri- tannic ^lajesty in Ireland. I admit the fact. From my earliest youth I have regarded the connection between Ireland and Great Britain as the curse of the Irish nation ; and felt convinced that •while it lasted this country could never be free nor happy. My mind has been confirmed in this opinion by the experi- ence of every succeeding year, and the conclusions which I have drawn from every fact before my eyes. In conse- quence, I determined to apply all the I^owers which my individual efforts could move, in order to separate the two countries. " That Ireland was not able, of herself, to throw off the yoke, I knew. I there- fore sought for aid wherever it was to be found. In honourable poverty I rejected offers which, to a man in my circum- Btances, might be considered highly advantageous. I remained faithful to ■what I thought the cause of my country, and sought in the Fnench republic an ally to rescue three millions of my country- men from " Here the president interrupted Tone, insisting that this language was not rele- vant to the charge, nor such as should be delivered in court. Anothermember of the court thought it inflammatorj^ The judge- advocate childishly or knavishly said, thatif Tone meant it to be laid before His Excel- lency in way of extenuation, it must have quite a contrary effect, if any of the pre- ceding portion were suffered to remain. Some further conversation passed be- tween Tone and General Loftus, the president of the court-martial. Tone was desirous of expressing his gratitude " towards the Catholic body, in whose cause he was engaged." General Loftus wished him to confine himself to the charge against him. After this interrup- tion Wolfe Tone was suffered to proceed as follows : — '•I shall, then, confine myself to some points relative to my connection with the French Army. Attached to no party in the French republic, without interest, without money, without intrigue, the openness and integrity of my views raised me to a high and confidential rank in its armies. * I obtained the confidence of the Executive Directory, the approbation of my generals, and, I venture to add, the esteem and affection of \ny brave com- rades. When I review these circumstances, I feel a secret and internal conso-lation which no reverse of fortune, no sentence in the power of this court to inflict, can ever deprive me of, or Aveaken in any degree. Under the flag of the French republic I originally engaged, with a Adew to save and liberate my own country. For that purpose I have encountered the chances of Avar amongst strangers ; for that purpose I have repeatedly braved the terrors of the ocean, covered, as I kncAv it to be, Avith the triumphant fleets of that power Avhich it was my glory and my duty to oppose. I have sacrificed all my views in life ; I have courted poverty; I have left a beloved wife unprotected, and children, whom I adored, fatherless. After such sacrifices in a cause which I have always conscientiously considered as the cause of justice and freedom, it is no great effort at this day to add 'the sacrifice of my life.' "But 1 hear it said that this unfortunate country has been a prey to all sorts of horrors. I sincerely lament it. 1 beg, THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. 173 however, it may be remembered that I have been absent four years from Ireland. To me these sufferings can never be attributed. I designed, by fair ajjd open •war, to procure the separation of the two countries. For open war I was prepared ; but if, instead of tliat, a system of private assassination has taken phice, I repeat, while I deplore it, that it is not charge- able on me. Atrocilies, it seems, have been committed on both sides. I do not less deplore them; I detest them from my heart; and to those who know my character and sentiments, I may safely appeal for the truth of this assertion. "With them I need no justification. "In a cause like this success is every- thing. Success, in the eyes of the vulgar, fixes its merits. Washington succeeded, and Kosciusko failed. " After a combat nobly sustained — ^a combat which would have excited the respect and sympathy of a generous enemy — my fate Avas to become a prisoner. To the eternal disgrace of those who gave' the order I was brought hither in irons, like a felon. I mention this for the sake of others — for me I am indifferent to it ; I am aware of the fate which awaits me, and scorn eqtally the tone of complaint and that of supplica- tion. '•As to the connection between this countrj' and Great Britain, I repeat it, all that has been imputed to me. words, writings, and actions, I here deliberately avow. I have spoken and acted with reflection and on principle, and am ready to meet the consequences. Whatever be the sentence of this court, I am prepared for it. Its members will surely discharge their duty; I shall take care not to be Avanting in mine." All who heard Tone deliver this address, not even excepting the members of the com'fc-martial, were greatly affected, so magnanimous were his sentiments, and so serenely noble the voice in which they were uttered. For several moments a deep silence prevailed in the hall ; which, indeed, was first interrupted by Tone himself. He asked, was it not the custom to assign an interval between the sentence and execution? The judge-advocate told him in reply that the opinions of the court would be collected at once, and the result sent to the viceroy. Now was the tunc for Tone to speak, if he wished to make further observations. Tone^ resuming his address: — " I wish to offer a few words relative to one single point — to the mode of punislmient. In France our e'inic/res,* who stand nearly in the same situation in which I suppose I now stand before you, are condemned to be shot. I ask that the court should adjudge me the death of a soldier, and let me be shot by a platoon of grenadiers. I request this indulgence rather in con- sideration of the uniform which I wear — - the uniform of a chef de briijade in the French army — than from any personal regard to myself. In order to evince my claim to this favour, I beg the court may take the trouble to peruse my commission and letters of service in the French army. It will appear from these papers that I have not received them as a mask to cover me, but that I have been long and bona fide an officer in the French service." Judge-advocate : — You must feel that the papers you allude to will serve as unde- niable proofs against you." Tone: — " Oh. I kianc it well. I have already admitted the facts, and I now admit the papers as full proofs of con- viction." General Loftus told him the coui'b would assuredly transmit his address and papers to the Lord-lieutenant. The general, however, effaced the portions which he had refused to give Tone per- mission to read. Cornwallis, with the magnanimity of an Englishman, refused the prisoner's last demand. He was con- demned to be hanged on the 12th of November. AU the proceedings in con- nection with this court-martial were illegal. Tone was no English soldier, that he should be tried by court-martial. The civil courts were then sitting; by them he should have been tried. But the people, even some of Tone's former friends, looked on in terror-stricken silence — .all, indeed, save one. And that one was the brave and gener- ous and fiery John Philpot Curran. He determined, if possible, to gain time for the French Government to iuterpose with a threat of retaliation ; the case might thus be changed into a political, or, so to speak, an international one. In the end Tone might be saved. On the 12tli of November (the fatal day), Curran entered the Court of King's Bench, leading Tone's venerable father, • Emigrants — that is, the royalists who had taken up arms agaiust the republic. 174 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O'CONNELL. who had made an affidavit bearing refer- ence to the illegal court-martial. •'! do not pretend," said Curran, "that Mr. Tone is not guilty of the charges of which he is accused. I presume the officers were honourable men. But it is stated in tliis affidavit, as a solemn fact, that Mr. Tone had no commission under His Majesty; and, therefore, no court- martial, could have cognizance of any crime imputed to him, whilst the court of King's Bench sat in the capacity of the great criminal court of the land. In times when war was raging, when man was opposed to man in the field, courts- martial might be endured ; but every law authority is with me whilst I stand upon this sacred and immutable principle of the constitution — that martial law and civil law are incompatible, and that the former must cease with the existence of the latter. This is not, however, the time for arguing this momentous question. My client must appear in this court. He is cast for death this very day. He may be ordered for execution whilst I address you. I call on the court to support the law, and move for a habeas corpus to be directed to the provost-marshal of the barracks of Dublin, and Major Sandys, to bring up the body of Tone." Chief -justice: — "Have a writ instantly prepared." Cur ran: — "My chent may die whilst the writ is preparing." Chief -justice: — "iilr. Sheriff, proceed to the barracks, and acqiiamt the provost- marshal that a writ is preparing to sus- pend Mr. Tone's execution, and see that he be not executed." The sheriff speedily returns and says to the court, waiting in breathless sus- pense:— "My lord, I have been to the barracks, in pursuance of your orders. The provost-marshal says he must obey Major Sandys. Major Sandys says he must obey Lord Cornwallis." Curran annoimces, too, that old Tone has served the habeas corpus, but that General Craig refuses to obey it. The chief-justice cries out:— "Mr. Sheriff, take the body of Tone into custody, take the provost- marshal and Major Sandys into custody, and show the order of the com't to General Craig." Was Tone going to be led forth to execution in defiance of the court of King's Bench? This was the question in every mind. Even l\ilwarden feared this, a just judge (destined, alas! to au untimely and unmerited fate at the hands of the populace), who at all times rever- enced the laws, and who, moreover, entertained the most kindly feelings towards Tone. Before this he had pro- tected him from Government vengeance. His agitation on the present occasion was "magnificent." Again the sheriff returns. This time he is the bearer of disastrous woeful in- telligence. Tone had wounded himself dangerously in the throat with a knife, 'and consequently cannot be removed. The fatal deed was done while the soldiers were erecting a gibbet for his execution in the yard before his window. He had first written a letter to the French Directory, and a pathetic farewell to his wife. The wound was not skilfully- inflicted. Tone lingered in dreadful torment seven days and nights.* Accord- mg to some, no one was permitted to see him save the prison-surgeon, Dr. Lentaigne, who is "said to have been humane," and a French emigrant. According to Dr. Madden, a Mr. Fitz- patrick of Capel Street was allowed to see him once. "When at length death relieved •him from his agony, his body was permitted to be carried away by a relative, named Dunbavin. He sleeps in the little church -yard of Bodenstown, county Kildare. Thomas Davis has erected two monuments to his memory — one, a slab over his grave ; the other, one of his immortal ballads. Such was the melancholy fate of the most formidable enemy to British tyranny that Ireland has yet produced. A great organizer, skilled to influence the minds of men of all classes and of various countries differing in language, manners, and habits of thought, he was hkewise brave, cheerful amid disasters, full of resources, indefatigable. With these great qualities, he was, in his private and domestic relations, pleasant, amiable, genial, and endearing. Dr. Madden, speaking of the melancholy close of his career, says : — " Thus passed away one of the master-spirits of his time. The curse of Swift was upon this man — ^he was an Irishman. Had he been a native of any other European country, his noble qualities, his brilliant talents would have raised him to the first honours in the * A f w persons, but I think erroneously, have doubted that Tone perished by his own hand. THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL, 175 State, and to the esteem of his fellow- citizens. His name lives, however, and his memory is probably destined to survive as long as his country has a history. Peace be to his ashes ! " I cannot help giving a passage from Professor Goldwin Smith (as being the testimony of one whose prejudices might naturally be expected to lead him to look unfavourably on the great founder of the United Irishmen), in which the rare merits of Tone are freely aclcnow- ledged. This passage, whde it does no more than justice to Theobold Wolfe Tone in awarding him such high praise, is decidedly unfair to the other leading United Irishmen. Surely Lord Edward was something more than a hot-headed enthusiast. And there were other able men in the party besides Tone. Both Thomas Addis Emmett and Arthur O'Connor, not to mention others, were undoubtedly men of mark. Speaking of the men of the Irish revolutionary move- ment of the last centmy, Goldwin Smith says: — " Most of these men were not in any respect above the average level of the French Jacobin Club. Lord Edward seems to have been a weak, hot-headed enthusiast. A crack-brained prelate peer, the Earl of Bristol, Bishop of Derry, took the part of the Duke of Orleans, and played Egalite to the Irish sans culottes. The only man of real mark in the party was Wolfe Tone. Tone was not a first-class man of action, but he was a first-rate man of the second class — brave, adventurous, sanguine, fertile in resources, buoyant under misfortune, warm-hearted and capable of winning, if not of commanding, men. Though his , name is little known among Englishmen, he was near being almost as fatal an enemy to England as Hannibal was to Home." Some persons, I may here remark, have computed the number of enrolled " United Irishmen " at five hundred thousand; but this is certainly an exaggeration. Perhaps the finest tribute ever paid to the brave men of '98 was the song entitled The Memory of the Dead, con- tributed to the old Dublin Natimi in '43, during the fuU tide and might of O'Con- nell's last great repeal "agitation," when the young men of Ireland were burning for one more war of independence, and their hearts • were throbbing with wild and eager .expectancy. This song was signally honoured by the British Govern- ment. When O'ConncU and his co-tra- versers were prosecuted, in January, '44, on the charge of seditious conspiracy, the pubhcation of this song by the editor of the jSation, Charles Gavan Duffy, was one of the seditious acts alleged against the prisoners, and accordingly the song was read by the attorney-general, Thomas Berry Cusack Smith (nicknamed Alpha- bet Smith, from the troop of initial letters in his name), with sufficiently good emphasis, in the course of his long- winded address of eleven hours against the State prisoners. Th.e author, the Reverend Thomas Kells Ingram, has long been enjoying the otmvi cum dignitate {ease with dkinity) of a fellow of Trinity College, Dublin. He wrote this song in his student-days. As it relieved the monotony of Alphabet Smith's intermin- able harangue, so it may enliven what some may deem the tediousness of this long chapter. I shall make no apology for quoting it here in full : — " THE MEMORY OF THE DEAD. " Who fears to speak of Ninety-eight? Who blushes at the name? When cowards mock ttie patiiofs fate, Wtio hangs his head tor shame? He's aJl a knave, or half a slave. Who shghts his country thus; But a true man, like you, man, Will fill your glass with us. ' We drinJi the memory of the brave, The faithful and the few- Some lie far < iff beyond the wave — Some sleep in Ireland, too; All — ail are gone — but still lives on The fame of those who liied — All true men. like you, men, Remember them with pride. ' !~ome on the shores of distant lands Their weafy hea ts have laid. And by the stranger's heedless hands There lonely graves wt-re made; But, thiiugb tfieir clay be far away Beyond the Atlantic foam — , In true men, like you, men. Their spirit's stiU at home. ' The dust of some is Irish earth ; Among their own tliey rest; And the same land that gave them birth Has cau^-ht them to her breast; And "e will pray that Irom their clay Full many race may start Of true men, like you, men, To act as brave a part. ■ They rose in dark and evil days. To rii:ht tlieir native land ; They kindled here a living blazo. That nothing shall withstand. 176 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. Alas, that Might can vanquish Eightl Th'-y fell and passed away ; But true men, l.ke you, meu, Ai-e plenty here to-day. " Then here'p there memory— may it be Fur us a guiding li^iit. To ohrer our ^^tl•ife for liberty, And teach us to unite Through good and ill, he Ireland's still, Tiiough sad as theirs your fate; And true men h^ yoo. men. Like those of Niuety-eight." And now, Ireland being in a prostrate condition at the feet of the military might of England, the English Govern- ment, aided by these two false Irishmen, the Earl of Clare. Lord-chancellor of Ireland, and Lord Castlereagh, the Chief Secreta,ry, determined to carry the fatal and accursed Act of Union. To effect this object every engine of fraud and corruption Wcis set m motion. Every method of intimidation was resorted to in order to check opposition on the part of the people. Meetings to protest ■igainst the Government measure were dispersed by military violence. Sir John Farnell, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, and jMr. Fitzgerald, the Prime-sergeant, and others were dismissed from their offices for opposing the Union. On the other hand, as Clare and Castlereagh feared serious opposition from that in- fluential and talented body, the Bar of Ireland the former created a host of new legal offices, which he expected would tempt numbers of the lawyers to sell themselves and their country to the Castle. Lures, too, were held out to the Catho- lics to draw them away from the pati-iot ranks. The nature of the arguments em- ployed to seduce the Catholics from their allegiance to their country may be seen in the following extract from a speech delivered in the Irish House of Commons, in 1799, by Sir John Blaquu'e, one of the corrupt creatures of the Government: — " The honourable member who proposed the amendment, with a flow of such transcendent eloquence as had seldom been heard in that house, had expressly stated that the Iloman Catholics must oppose the Union. He knew not the mhid of the Catholics on the subject, but he should speak his own — that tlie Roman Catholics, under the present order of things, could never be accviuinoc/ated, as he feared, with what they asked, without imminent danger to the Protestant estab- lishment, both iu Church and State ; but if once an union should he adopted, all these difficulties ivnuld vanish, and he should see none in granting them everythiug they dc- siredy Unfortunately, the majority of the Catholic bishops and clergy, nobility and gentry, were cajoled by the agents of the Government, using such arguments, into lending their influence to promote the Union. They found out their mis- take when the independence of their country was extinguished, and the Eng- lish Government evaded the performance of their implied promise to concede Catholic emancipation. An Irish Parlia- ment would have conceded it long before 1829. The majority of the Catholic people, however, remained loyal to their country. Presently we shall sec O'Con- ncll commencing his political career by taking a noble stand for his country's independence. ilany persons, too, were foolishly led to approve of the Union, thinking it would put an end to the coiTuption of Irish members of Parliament. Even Hamilton Rowan, in his American exile, seems to have absurdly taken this view. Doubtless the Irish Parliament, in its dependent state before '82, had been corrupt to a degree; and even after '82 it had remained shamefully corrupt. In truth, nothing but total separation could wholly secure Irish legislators from British corrupting influences. But Irish legislators must always be most liable to corruption in a Parliament of the empire sitting in London. Had a reform of the Irish Parliament swept away the* immense number of rotten boroughs that existed in Ireland, and had a complete emancipa- tion of the Catholics been conceded at the same time, the Irish Parliament, if not quite perfect, would nevertheless have exliibiced a purer set of legislators than Ireland has ever possessed, either before or since the Union. Theobald Wolfe Tone's picture of their corruption would no longer have been true to the life: — " I have now seen the Parliament of Ireland, the Parliament of England, the Congress of the United States of America, the Corps Legislatif of France, and the Convention of Batavia; I have likewise seen our shabby Volunteer Convention in 178o, and the General Committee of the Catholics in 1793; so that I have seen, m the way of deliberate bodies, as many I believe as most men ; and of all those I have mentioned, beyond ail com- THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 177 parison, the most shamelessly profligate md abandoned by all sense of virtue, pinciple, or even common decency, was tie Legislatiire of my own unfortunate comtry — the scoundrels!" Tet. in spite of all the corruption and in ti nidation that prevailed, so fatal a measure as the Union to the liberty, prospa-ity, and glory of Ireland was not destined to pass without great opposi- tion. In '99, at a preliminary meeting of the Bai, a large majority declared against the Unon. Some absiu-d speeches were made it favour of the measure; but the feeling of the meeting was with the bold and singular speech of Mr. Goold : — '• There a-e forty thousand British troops in Ireland, and with forty thousand bayonets at my breast the minister shall not plant another Sicily in the bosom of the .Vtlant'c. I want not the assistance of Divine inspiration to foretell, for I am enabled, by the visible and unerring de- monstrations of nature, to assert, that Ireland was destined to be a free and independent nation. Our patent to be a State, not a shire, comes direct from heaven. The Almighty has, in majestic characters, signed the great charter of our independence. The great Creator of the Avorld has givea our beloved country the gigantic outlines of a kingdom. The God of nature never intended that Ireland should be a province — and by G — d she flever shall!" The room resounded with acclamations. His words were taken up and repeated from mouth to mouth. Several other meetings were held in Dublin in '99. On December 17th the lord - mayor, sheriffs, commons, and citizens met to denounce the Union. The merchants and bankers met and passed a resolution expressive of their abhorrence of the measure. The fellows and scholars of Trinity College at another meeting called on their representatives to oppose it. Resolutions of sunilar import were passed in some borough or county every day. For that year, in short, the measure was defeated in Parhament as elsewhere. Sir Lawi-ence Parsons opposed it with great force and ability. Mr. Fitz- gerald, ex-prime-sergeant, raised the con- stitutional question as to the competency of the Irish Parliament to extinguish itself. He also cjuoted Dr. Johnson's saying: — '-Don't unite with us; we shall unite with you only to rob you ; we should have robbed the Scots, if they had anything to be robbed of." Hans Hamil- ton and Knox violently attacked the Union and the Government. The cele- brated Plunket denounced them with great power and vehemence. He argued that the members of the House of Commons were there to make laws, not legislatures. He assailed the Government for the time they had chosen to bring forward their measure, when Ireland was filled with British troops and vmder a re'i/hne of military terror, courts-martial still sitting in many parts of the kingdom, and the Habeas Corpus Act suspended. He ended with great veh emence : — " For his own part he would resist it (the Union) to the last gasp of his existence and with the last drop of his blood ; and when he felt the hour of his dissolution approaching, he would, like the father of Hannibal, take his children to the altar and sn-car than to eternal Jwstiliti/ against the imxidcrs of their country's frcedmi.'''' ^^^len Plunket after- wards became English master of the rolls, and then Irish chancellor and a peer of the realm, when his interest had procured a bishopric for his eldest son and snug places for all his younger ones, he was often twitted with this heroic oration. The famous Cobbet once quizzed him unmercifully in the English House, to the great amusement of his auditors, in a humorous speech, in which he grotesquely enumerated all the -'young iiannibals" — " Ilannib.al number one, Hannibal number two, number three," etc. — and announced the " snug berths" which had fallen to each. Others, too, remarked that Ilamilcar, after swearing his son, never helped the Romans to rule Carthage as a subject province. In these Union debates, however, Plunket was magni- ficent. In the second debate, on the afternoon of the 24th of January, 1799, Colonel O'Donnell, the eldest son of Sir Neil O'Donnell of the county iMayo, a gallant gentleman, stung by Lord Castle- reagh's invectives, by anticipation " dis- claimed all future allegiance if an union were eifected. He held it as a vicious revolution, and avowed that he would take the field at the head of his regiment to oppose its execution, and would resist rebels in rich clothes as he had done the rebels in rags." For this speech he was dismissed from the command of his regi- ment. In one of these debates, Sir Boyle Roche, in one of his comical Irish bulls, stumbled happily on a true descriptiau 178 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O'CONNELL. of the Government policy. He said " he was for a union, to put an end to uniting between Presbyterians, Protestants, and •Catholics to overturn the constitution." When the division was called for, there was a majority of six against the Union. Sir Jonah Barrmgton tells us, that as they walked in one by one to be counted, " the eager spectators, ladies as well as gentle- men, leaning over the galleries, ignorant of the result, were panting with expecta- tion. Lady Castlereagh, then one of the ■finest women of the court, appeared in the sergeants' box, palpitating for her husband's fate. The desponding appear- ance and fallen crests of the ministerial benches, and the exidting air of the oppo- sition members, as they entered, were intelhgible. Mr. Egan, chaimian of Dublin county, a large, bluff, red-faced gentleman, was the last who entered. As No. 110 was amiounced, he stopped a jnoment at the bar, flourished a stick which he held in his hand over his head, and, with the voice of a Stentor, cried out, — ' And I 'm a hundred and eleven ! ' " After this Mr. Ponsonby moved, " That this House will ever maintain the un- ■doubted birthright of Irishmen, by pre- serving an independent Parliament of Lords and Commons, residing in this Icingdom, as stated and approved by His Majesty and the British Parliament in 1782." This resolution vras carried at first ^vith only two negatives, those of Lord ('astle- reagh and Mr. Toler; but, unluckily, tlie Speaker, desiring to be quite accurate, ^sked Mr. Ponsonby to wTite his resolu- tion. The delay gave time to the venal portion of Mr. Ponsonby's followers to ■ cool clown and reflect. They did not wish the Government to be so hopelessly defeated that Cornwallis and Castlereagli would have to resign. In fact, they wished to be bought, if only they could get their price. When the Speaker read the resolution, and put the question a second time, a loud " Aij.'" indeed, burst forth; but Chichester Fortescue, of the county Lowth, interposed and spoke: — ''lie was adverse to the Union — had voted against it — but did not wish to bind himself for ever; possible circum- stances might occur which should render that measure expedient for the empire." Several hesitated now — some honest, some rogues — and caught at this sugges- tion. Finally, Mr. Ponsonby did not press his motion, fearing defeat. The corrupt Sir Henry Cavendish sarcasticaUt observed, that ''it was a retreat after a victory." A victory, however, had been gaired for the tune, though in the House of Lords the insolent and domineering upstart Lord Clare carried everything with a high hand. In that chanber of coroneted slaves few dared to oppose the haughty chancellor. Of the spiritual peers only two attempted anything lik'j resist- ance : one of these was Dr. Marian, bishop of Limerick, Henry Grattan's uncle. But, outside, the populace were in a Ugh state of glorification and rejoicing. I\ien shook each other by the hand. Thej' took the horses from the carriage of I oster, the Speaker, and drew him home :n triumph. They even desired to harness the arrogant chancellor to his coach. Ciare had to fly, and take refuge in a receding doorway in Clarendon Street, pistol in hand. The people only laughed derisively as they saw him crouching in terror against the door. They offered him no further vio- lence. Dick Martin, the king of Connemara, another partriot of Goverment (notorious subsequently for his bill to prevent cruelty to animals), owed his escape from a rough handling in the hostile crowd to his presence of mind and a whunsical blundering speech that gratified the mob's Ixish appetite for fun and humour. He turned boldly on his hunters, some ten thousa,nd or so in number, presented a small pocliet-pistol at them, and swore vehemently that, if they advanced six inches on him, " he would at once shoot every mother^s habe of them as dead as that paving-stone;" and he kicked one of those beneath his feet. Meanwhile, the question of the Union was debated in the English Parliament; and there, in spite of some i^owerful opposition, Mr. Pitt, the English minister, succeeded in getting his resolvitions for Union passed. Mr. Pitt did his best to prove that the Union would be d source of th e greatest prosperity to Ireland. He said she would gain by the measui'e com- plete protection and security; the most effectual means of increasing her commerce and improving her agriculture; English capital; English manners and industry; means of terminating her feuds and dis- sensions; avenues to all the honours and THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 179 distinctions of the empire opened to her sons — in short, all the blessings of British civilization. ' ' Among the great and known defects of Ireland, one of the most pro- minent features was its want of industry and of capitaL How were those wants to be supplied but by blending more closely with Ireland the industry and capital of Great Britain?" Of course, he made his bid for t!ie Catholics. The concessions they sougiit, he said, coidd not be made to the Catholics while Ireland remained a separate kingdom ; but the question of theii' emancipation could be agitated safely in an united imperial Parliament. When he argued that Irish dissensions and ignorance were to be putt an end to by the Union, he forgot to teU the English Commons that both were the creation of the British Government. He admitted that the absenteeism sure to be caused or increased by the Union might be some injury to Ireland ; but it wovdd be more than compensated by the nmnerous ad- vantages that would result from that beneficial measure. As for looking on the Union as a means of subjecting Ii-eland to a foreign yoke, any such idea'jv^as monstrous. The two invincible nations were to be amalgamated on terms of the most perfect equality. It is needless to say that " the silent refutation of time " has overthrown this fabric of ingenious sophistry. After the experience of near seventy-two years of union, Ireland is almost the only country in Europe that has retrograded in prosperity. j\Ir. Mitchel, giving a summary of Pitt's great speech, says: — " All this looks to-day like cruel and deadly irony. It was with the most severe gravity, however, that ]\Ir. Pitt enumerated all the great blessings which would flow from the Union to Ireland. If England was to benefit by it, he did nc* seem to be aware of that circumstance — did not thiuk of it apparently at all ; so much absorbed was he by the generous thought of binding up the bleeding wounds of Ireland, and v/hispering peace to her distracted spirit." That most brilliant and versatile Irish- man, Richard Brinsley Sheridan, opposed the Unionstrenuouslyinthie English House of Commons. " Let no suspicion," said he. " be entertained that we gained our object by intimidation or corruption. Let oiu- union be a union of affection jind attachment, of plain dealing and free will. Let it be a union of mind and spirit as , well as of interest and power. Let it not resemble those Irish marriages which com- menced in fraud and were consummated by force. Let us not commit a brutal rape on the independence of Ireland, when, by tenderness of behaviour, we may have her the willing partner of our fate. The state of Ireland did not admit such a marriage. Her bans ought not to be published to the sound of the trumpet with an army of forty thousand men. She was not qualified for hymeneal rites, when the grave and the prison held so large a share of her population." The furious Clare determined to repress- the tumultuous rejoicings of the Dublin populace. He had the privy council hastily summoned together, and im- pressed on them the necessity of making a salutary example in the usual Govern- ment style. A party of soldiers silently sallied forth. They were commanded by a mere sergeant. They liad no civil magistrate along with them. Tliey arrived in Capel Street, where the populace were indidging in loud huzzas for their friends. There and then, without any reading of the Riot Act, without any tumult to justify the interference of troops, v/ithout being attacked, these soldiers fired a volley of ball-cartridge into the crowd. A few wore killed and wounded. Among the killed were a woman and a boy. A man was shot dead at the feet of Mr. P. Hamilton, the king's proctor of tlie admiralty, who was merely amusing himself by looking on at the illumination and other signs of popular joy. This incident gives a fair specimen of the system of terror ado^^ted by the Government to carry through the accursed Act of Union. The cold-blooded Castlereagh, how- ever, chiefly relied on Government pat- ronage and coiTuption. Even felons in jails were promised pardon if they would consent to sign Union petitions. Lord Comwallis himself set out on an experi- mental tour through the parts of the country where the nobles and gentry Avere most likely to entertain him, and where he had the best chance of meetmg corpo- rations at public dinners. Ireland, in short, was canvassed. The memoirs of this viceroy prove that he was a willing instriunent of intimidation and the vilest corruption. In his letters he sometimes feels, or affects to feel, scorn for the persons corrupted by him ; he even 180 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. occasionally feels his toe itching to kick some nobleman at once rude and corrupt. He afPects not to like his job ; still, he never shrinks from doing Pitt's dirty work. He labours hard to procure the fifty majority, without Avhich that minister says the measure should not be pressed. This man, Cornwallis, has got an unmerited reputation with some for honour and humanity. Certainly, he somewhat relaxed the cruelties that had stained Camden's administration ; he does not seem to have been altogether destitute of a sense of justice. The Orangemen, indeed, because he shewed any mercy at all to rebels, nicknamed him " Croppy Corney." However, at best, he was like nearljr all his predecessors, when occasion required, a corrupter, if not himself corrupt — false, unscrupulous, tyrannical. The Marquis of Downshire soon experi- enced this. Seeing the determination of the Government to carry the Union by any and every means, foul or fair, this nobleman, the venerable Earl of Charle- mont, and William Brabazon Ponsonby, member for Killkenny couHty, sent cir- culars abroad calling on the people to express their sentiments on the question of the legislative Union in petitions to Parliament. In consequence of this step, tlie Marquis of Downshire was at once dismissed from the Government of his county and the colonelcy of the Royal Downshire regiment of twelve hundred men , his name, too, was erased from the list of privy councillors. In spite of all the efforts of the Govermnent, however, countless petitions poured in against the Union — scarcely any for it. Protestants and Catholics indiscriminately signed the Anti-union petitions. Most of the Orange- men, indeed, were for the Union; the grand master and grand secretary, who were both members of Parliament, voted for it. I have already intimated that the Government had succeeded in winning over to their side a large proportion of the Catholic aristocracy and clergy. Others were simpl}^ indifferent to the national cause. Mr. Plowden accounts for this by " the severities and indig- nities practised upon them after the rebellion by many of the Orange party, and the offensive confusion in the use of the terms Papist and Rebel producing fresh soreness in the minds of many." Mr. INIitchel is not satisfied with this way of accounting for their union pro- clivities. He remarks very justly, that if the Catholics did see some Orangemen in the national ranks, " they also saw there all their old and tried friends and advocates." Probably the true method of accounting for the course pursued, in this crisis of the nation's destiny, by the Cathohc clergy and aristocracy, is suggested to our minds by the following passages from the ■writings of Sir Jonah Barrington : — " The viceroy knew mankind too well to dismiss the CathoUcs without a comfortable conviction of tlieir cer- tain emancipation; he turned to them the honest side of his countenance; the priests bowed before the soldierty condescensions of a starred veteran. The titular archbishop was led to be- lieve he would instantly become a real prelate ; and, before the negotiation con- cluded. Dr. Troy was consecrated a decided Unionist, and was directed to send pastoral letters to his colleagues to promote it." Again, Sir Jonah informs us that " some of the persons assuming to themselves the title of Catholic leaders sought an audience, in order to inquire from Marquis Cornwalhs, ' What would be the advantage to the Catholics if an union should happen to be effected in Ireland?' " Mr. Bellew (brother to Sir Patrick Bellew), jlr. Lynch, and some others, had several audiences with the viceroy. The Catholic bishojis were generally deceived into the most disgusting sub- servience ; rewards were not withheld. Mr. Bellew was to be appointed a county judge.; but that being found impractable, he got a secret pension, which he has now enjoyed for thirty- two years." But all the Catholics of position and intelligence were not weak and base enough to yield to these insidious and soul-corrupting influences. For example, the trading and commercial class of Catho- lics in Dublin were violently hostile to the bare idea of the Union. On the 13th of January, 1800, a meeting of tlie Catholic citizens of Dublin was held in the hall of the Royal Exchange to protest against the Union. This meeting is memorable as being the occasion on which Daniel O'Conuell commenced his political career. On this day he dehvered his first speech at ^ public meeting. I shall presently give the speech in full, because it is THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. 181 specially iuteresting to mark how his sentiments in the opening scenes of his public life entirely correspond with his most cherished opinions at life's close. As his last and greatest movement was the repeal "agitation," so this his earliest effort was to save the legislative indepen- dence of his countrj'. His son teJls us that this meeting, in 18), " and erase his epitaph, or whether your children shall go to your graves saying, — ' A venal, a military court attacked the liberties of the Irish, and here lie the bones of the honourable dead men who saved their country ! ' Such an epitaph is a nobility which the king cannot give his slaves ; it is a glory which the crown cannot give the king." The faction of the Castle now thirsted for Grattan's blood. On the 14th of February, the " right honourable " bravo. Corry, made another truculent personal attack on him. To this Gi'attan replied in one of the finest and most scathing- invectives in any language: — "Has the gentleman done? Has he completely done?" thus Grattan bursts forth. "He was unparliamentary from the beginning to the end of his speech. * * * j did not caU him to order — -wliy? because the limited talents of some men render it impossible for them to be severe without being unparliamentary. But before I sit down I will shew him how to be severe and parliamentary at the same time. * * * 1 know the difficulty the right honourable gentleman laboured under when he attacked me, conscious that, on a comparative view of our characters, public and private, there is nothing he could say which would injure me. The ])ublic would not believe thy charge. I despise the falsehood. If such a charge were made by an honest man, I would answer it in the manner I shall do before I sit down. But I shall first reply to it when not made by an honest man. " The right honourable gentleman has called me ' an unimpeached traitor.' I ask why not ' traitor' unqualified by any epithet? I will tell him : it was because he dare not. It was the act of a coward, who raises his arm to strike, but has not the courage to give the blow. I will not call him villain, because it would be unparlia- mentary, and he is a privy counsellor. I will not call him fool, because he happens to be Chancellor of the Exche- quer. But I say he is one who has abused the piivilege of Parliament and freedom of debate to the uttering lan- guage which, if s})oken out of the House, 1 should answer only with a blow. I care not how high his situation, how low his character, how contemptible his speech j whether a privy counsellor or a parasite, my answer would be a blow. * * * "The right honourable member has told me I deserted a profession where wealth and station were the reward of industry and talent. If I mistake not, that gentleman endeavoured to obtain, those rewards by the same means; but he soon deserted the occupation of a barrister for those of a parasite and a pander. He fled from the labour of study to flatter at the table of the great. He found the lord's parlour a better sphere for his exertions than the hall of the Four Courts; the house of a great man a more convenient way to power and to place; and that it was easier for a statesman of middling talents to sell his friends, than for a lawyer of no talents to sell his clients. * * * ••The right honourable gentleman says, I fled fcom the country after exciting re- bellion, and that I have returned to raise another. No such thmg. The charge is false. The civil war had not commenced when I left the kingdom, and I could not have leturned without taking a part. On the one side there was the camp of the rebel; on the other, the camp of the minister, a greater traitor than that rebel. The stronghold of the constitution was nowhere to be found. I agree that the rebel who rises against the Government 190 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O'CONNELL. shoiild have siiffered; but I missed on the scaffold the right honourable gentleman. ' Two desperate parties were in arms against the constitution. The right honourable gentleman belonged to one of those parties, and deserved death. I could not join the rebel; I coul'd not join the Government; I could not join torture; I could not join half -hanging; I could not join free quarter; I could take part with neither. I was therefore absent from a scene where I could not be active without self-reproach, nor indifferent with safety. " Many honourable geutleraen thought differently from me. I respect their opin- ions, but I keep my own; and I think now, as I thought then, that the treason of the minister against the liherties of the people was infinitely ivorse than the rebellion of the people against the minister. "I have returned-^not, as the right honourable member has said, to raise -another storm — I have returned to dis- charge an honourable debt of gratitude to my country, that conferred a great reward for past services, which, I am proud to say, was not greater than my desert. I have returned to protect that constitution, of which 1 was the parent and the founder, from the assassination of such men as the honourable gentleman and his unworthy associates. They are coiTupt, they are seditious; and they, at this very moment, are in a conspiracy against tlieir country. I have returned to refute a libel, as false as it is malicious, given to the public und^r the appellation of a report of the committee of the Lords. Here I stand ready for impeachment or trial. I dare accusation. I defy the bonourable gentleman; I defy the Go- vernment , I defy their whole j)halanx . let them come forth. I tell the ministers I ■will neither give them quarter nor take it. I am here to lay the shattered re- mains of my constitution on the floor of this House in defence of the liberties of my country." Grattan and Corry both left the House immediately after the close of this terrible philippic. Lest he should be arrested, and so prevented from fighting, Grattan kept .away from home; but he tells us he sent for his favourite duelling pistols. He had already refused to listen to a proposal for an amicable arrangement made to him by the Speaker, who had sent for him to his chamber (the House being at the time in committee), Grattan remarking that he saw, and had been for some time aware. of a set made at him to pistol him off on that question. Next morning, in a field by the Dodder bank, not far from Ball's bridge, Grattan and Corry met to ex- change shots. A crowd was present, all sympathizing with the great patriot. Sud- denly there is a cry of " The sheriff.'' The antagonists are told to fire at once, with- out waiting for the regular formalities. When the sheriff and his myrmidons ap- proach, General Cradock, Corry's second, shoves that functionary into a ditch, and holds him there while the duel takes place. The result of the first rapid fire is, that Corry is wounded in the arm, while Grat- tan stands unscathed, (irattan tells us he could have killed Corry if he willed to do so. A second exchange of shots takes place; but this time Grattan fires in the air, while Corry, having discharged his pistol, falls bleeding on the ground. The populace cheer. There was reason to believe that, if any harm befell Grattan, Corry would have fallen a sacrifice to the popular fury. And now Grattan is hurried oft' the field by his friends. As he passes Corry he shakes hands with him. Yearrs after, Grattan is in Brighton. A man, broken down ui health and spirit, knocks at his door. The members ofGrattan's family are disinclined to admit the strange visitor. At last Grattan himself opens the door, stretches forth his hand, and warmly grasps that of the stranger, who, sick ia body, is more bruised and sore in spirit from humiliations in the British senate, from remorse and vain regrets. Grat- tan's kindness deej^ly affects Corry — for the visitor is Grattan's old foe Tliis un- merited kmdness stabs the worn-out and dying courtier to the heart. He crawls away. On this side of the grave they meet no more. Mr. Ponsonby's proposal, that an ad- dress should be presentedto the king, stat- ing that twenty-six counties, and various cities and towns, had petitioned against the Union, was insolently rejected. The proposals of Mr. Saurin and Sir John Barnell, that an appeal should be made to the people by a dissolution of Par- hament, had no better fate. Still the patriots hoped against hope; they fought the Government inch by inch. On the 19th of March, Grattan delivered another splended Anti-union oration. Speaking of the advocates of the measure, he said, 'tliat according to their doctrine, should THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. 191 the Govemment of France, Bonaparte for instance, be able to corrupt a mi^jority of the two Houses of the British ParliamL'nt, that majority is competent to transfer the powers of the In-itish legislature to Paris." He argued that the numerous Anti-union petitions shewed that there was no real feeling of identification between the two nations. The peroration was splendid: — "I might here appeal to the diiferent branches of the constitution, which you are going to devote. To the Lords : AVill they bm-n then- robes, overset the throne, disgrace their ancestors, disqualify their blood, and consent to become slaves with nicknames, instead of peers with privi- leges?" Indeed, the conduct of the less powerful lords, who had only Irish peer- ages, was absolutely suicidal. The Irish p<-ers were only to be represented in the Parliament of the empire by iour spuitual and tvreuty-eight temporal j^eers. The Irish lords, then, who could not get themselves chosen as representative peers, could have no voice as Irishmen in Par- liament, for they were debarred by law from sitting in the House of Commons for Ireland. An English constituency, indeed, might send them to the Lower House. Hence Mr. Speaker Foster com- plained that the article relatuig to the Irish Peerage created a sort of mongrel peer — half-lord, half-commoner. Pie also pointed out, as a natural consequence of the ehgibUity of Irish peers as mem- bers of the Commons for English con- stituencies, to which they were strangers (while absurdly, and even monstrously, they could not be chosen legislators where they had connections, property, and dwellings), that, in order to eolicit interest, these nobles would necessarily become absentees, and gradually cease all intimate acquamtance with their native land. 1\It. Grattan, after appealing to the Lords, asks the Commons, who remember '82, " Will you violate the obsequies of our dead general, and renounce publicly and deliberately for ever your constitution and your renown? * * * Do not now scandalize your own professions on that occasion, as well as renounce your former achievements, and close a political life of seven hundred years by one monstrous, self-surrendering, self-debasing act of re- linquishment, irretrievable, irrecoverable, flagitious, and abominable. He even api^eals to the king not to sink his liouse ^•' to the level of other kings, by corrupt and unconstitutional victories obtained over the liberties and charters of his subjects. It was the spirit of a free constitution," he says, "that in former times drove old Bourbon in battle; it was this that made His Ma- jesty's subjects men, not slaves; and it is this which you are going in Ireland, along with the constitution from whence it emanated, to extinguish for ever. " I conclude, in these moments — ^they seem to be the closing moments of your existence — by a supplication to that Power whom I tremble to name, that Power wh» has favoured you for seven hundred years with the rights and image of a free govern- ment, and who has lately conducted you out of that desert where for a century you had wandered, that He will not desert you now, but will be pleased to permit our beloved constitution to remain a little longer among us. and interpose His mercy between the stroke of death and the liberties of the people." All was now gloom and terror in Dublin. The Houses of Parliament were constantly surrounded by bodies of sol- diers, skilfully posted in College Green, and in Dame and Westmoreland Streets. This was by way of preserving the peace ; but the real object was manifestly to crush or prevent the expression of popular feel- mg. The Anti-miionists wanted unity of direction and organization. Cooke's per- • tsuasice powers were every day making- fresh converts. The Catholic bishop of Kilkenny, Dr. Lanigan (like other Catho- hc prelates), and his clergy, sent ia an address to the viceroy favourable to the Union. This grievously pained the Catho- lic body. However, an amusing blunder in the servile document made them laugh till their sides ached. Cornwallis had a queer defect in one of his eyes. It was diminutive, and always moving in some grotesque,- nervous way. Unluckily for their reputation as adroit courtiers. Dr. Lanigan and his clergy had never seen His Excellency. "Wherefore they oddly and awkwardly commenced their abject address in these somewhat inappropriate terms: — "Your Excellency has always kept a steady eye on the interests of Ii-e- land." The marquis forgot to thank his right-reverend and reverend admirers for this graceful compliment. In the Lords, everything went smoothly for the Government. Two amendments to the Act were carried by Chancellor r93 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. Clare. One was to the effect, that ^tlways, on the extinction of three Irish peerages, one might be created, till the number of Irish peers should be reduced to one hundred, after which a new one might be created in place of every peer- age that should become extinct. The other amendment declared that the cjuali- fications of Irish members in the United Parliament sliould be the same with those of the English members. In the last days of March, after the articles of Union had been separately argued and assented to, both Houses addressed the king in favour" of the Union of the two king- doms. After this the business rested in the Irish Parliament, while the British Parliament was doing its share of the work so fatal to the liberties of Ireland. There was some opposition in the Eng- lish Plouses. Lord Holland oj^posed the measure in the Lords. In the Commons, Sheridan nobly fought the battle of his native country. The year jpefore, he had boldly said that " such an insult would not have been offered to her whde her volunteers were in ai'ms.'" This year his opposition to the baleful measure was fully as vigorous. He insisted that the people of Ireland were opposed to tlie measure. He denounced the corrupt means employed to carry it. He as- serted that no attempt had been made to deny the notorious fact^ that sixty-five seats had been vacated to make places for men whose obsequiousness would not permit them to oppose the measure. It is pleasant to find our brilliant Sheridan "true to his sireland" in this terrible crisis of her fate "My country has claims upon me, which I am not more proud to acknowledge than ready to liquidate to the full measure of my ability." This he said in the English Commons in '99. 'S\o find in Grattait^s JSkmoira, by his Son, vol. v., p. 68, the following passage, in which an utterance most honourable to Sheridan occurs:— " Unquestionably, Lord Clare and Lord Castlereagh de- served to die. The popular execution of such State criminals would have been a national as well as a noble judicial sen- tence. " Some weak old women might have cried out 'Murder!' but it wou d have been the deed of a Brutus; and in the eyes of posterity the people would liave "been justified, for the Union was a great and legitimate cause of resistance. Sheri- dan, in a conversation he had with Mr. Grattan on the subject, exclaimed, ' For the Irish Parliament I would have fought England — ay, I would have fought up to my knees in blood.' " But to return, ISIr. Grey, afterwards Earl Grey, also opposed tiie Union strenuously in the English Commons. He even moved to "suspend proceedings on the Union till the senti- ments of the people of Ireland should be ascertained;" but his vote was neejatived by a vote of two hundred and thirty-six against thirty. In short, Pitt had no difficulty in hurrying the Act of Union through the English Houses. His parti- zans in the Lords cushioned a motion of Lord Holland's, intended to give the CJatholics some pledge for their abolition of their disabilities. On the 21st of May, Castlereagh, in the Irish Commons, formally moved for leave to bring in his bill for the legislative Union. Grattan denounced the bill with a divine fury. Lord Castlereagh, in a style of insolent menace, censm-ed what lie called the inflammatory language of j\Ir. Grattan. " But he defied their in- centives to treason, and had no doubt of the energy of the Government in defending the constitution against every attack." In the fiery debates that en- sued, Plunket. afterwards a peer of the empire and Irish Chancellor; Bushe, afterwards Chief -justice of Ireland; and Saurin, afterwards Irish Attorney-general, spoke those memorable passages against the Union, which, as O'Connell Avas al- ways repeating them in his " Repeal " speeches and letters, must ever form an iudespensable part of any complete biography of "the Liberator." Plunket said: — " You are appointed to act under the constitution, and not to alter it; and if you do so, your act is a dissolu- tion of the Government. * * * Sir, I state doctrines that are not merely founded on the immutable laws of truth and reason, * * * but I state the practice of our constitution as settled at the era of the revolution, and I state the doctrine under which the House of Hanover derives its title to the throne." He would not sacrifice British connec- tion to revolutionary projects. " But." says he, "I have as little hesitation in saying, that if the wanton ambition of a minister should assail the freedom of Ireland, and compel me to the alterna- tive, I would fling the connection to the THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 193 Aviiids, and cJasp the independence of my country to my heart." The year before, Plunket had said, when denying the competency of the Irish Parliament to transfer its rights to another legislature : — "Yourselves you may extinguish, but Parliament you cannot extinguish. It is enthroned in the hearts of the people ; it is enshrined in the sanctuary of the constitution ; it is immortal as the island it protects. As well might the frenzied suicide hope that the act which destroys his miserable body should extinguish his immortal soul. Again I therefore warn you, do not dare to lay your hands on the constitution ; it is above your power." At the same time he galled Castlereagh, by describing him as "this young philo- soj^her, who has been transplanted from the nursery to the cabinet, to outrage the feelings and imderstanding of the country." He also, while the splendid Lady Castlereagh was sitting in the gal- lery, called her husband "a green and sapless twig." This was a withering allu- sion to the suspected impotency of the childless minister, who, in the wantonness of his arrogance, had described the oppo- sition as "a desperate faction," led by "levellers and pettifoggers," and tradmg on the prejudices of a barbarous people. Bushe says: "I see nothing in it (ihc Union) but one question — Will you give up the country? * * » I look upon it simply as England reclaiming in a mo- ment of 3'our weakness that dominion which you extorted from her in a moment of your virtue — a dominion which she uniformly abused, which invariably op- pressed and impoverished you, and from the cessation of which you date all your prosperity." He then speaks of the ' ' fraud, and oppression, and unconstitutional practice" which were resorted to for the purpose of carrying the measure, as possibly justifying refusal of obedience to it. He says: "If this be factious language, Lord Somers was factious, the founders of the revolution wei'e factious, William III. was an usurper, and the revolution was a rebellion." Mr. Saurin spoke thus: — "You may make the Union binding as a law, but you cannot make it obligatory on con- science. It wall be obeyed so long as Eng- land is strong; but resistance to it will be, in the abstract, a duty, and the exhibition of that resistance will be a mere question of prudence." But our illustrious Grattan, on the 26th of May, surpassed himself. His magni- ficent speech on that occasion might almost be called the "death-song" of the Irish nation, if it were not tliat, to use his own expression, though "in a swoon, * * * she is not dead." In this marvellous speech lie denounces the cor- ruption that prevailed: — " From the bad terms which attend the Union, I am naturally led to the foul means by which it has been obtained — dismissals from office ; perversions of the jilace bill ; sale of peerage; purchase of boroughs; appointment of sheriffs, with a view to prevent the meetings of freemen and freeholders for the purpose of expressing their opinions on the subject of a legisla- tive union. — in short, the most avowed corruption, threats and stratagems, accompanied by martial law, to depiive a nation of her liberty." He assails the par- tiahty of the measure: — "We follow the minister. In defence of his plan of vmion, he tells us the number of Irish representatives in the British Parliament is of little consequence. This doctrine is new, namely, that between two nations the comparitive influence is of no moment. According to this, it would be of no moment what should be the number of the British Parliament. No, says the minister, the alteration is to be limited to the Irish Parliament; the number and fabric of the British is to remain entire, unaltered and unalterable. W^hat now becomes of the argument of mutual and reciprocal change?" He shew^s, in fact^ that the Union was a "merger of her (Ireland's) Parliament in the legislature of the other." He next shews that all the talk of the identification of the two nations is an impudent piece of mockery. " The minister goes on, and supposes one hundred Irish will be sufficient, because he supposes any number will be sufficient; and he supposes any number would be sufficient, because the nations are identified. Thus he speaks as if identification was at once a cause to flow from representation, and an event which preceded it. You are one people — such is his argument — because you are repre- sented; and what signifies how or, in- deed, whether you be represented? But the fact is, that you are identified (if you be identified, which I deny) in the single point of representation, and that representation is absorbed in the superior 194 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. numbers of the English Parliament, and that apparent identification is of course lost, while you remain a distinct country — distinct in interest, revenue, law, finance, commerce, government." The close of this glorious oration is wonderfid in its surpassing beauty and pathos: — "The constitution may be /or a time so lost; the character of the country cannot be lost. The ministers of the Crown will, or may perhaps at length find that it is not so easy to put down for ever an ancient and respectable nation by abilities, however great, and by power and by corruption, however irresistible. Liberty may repair her golden beams, and with redoubled heat animate the country ; the the cry of loyalty will not long continue against the principles of liberty. Loyalty is a noble, a judicious, and a capacious principle ; but in these countries loyalty, distinct from liberty, is corruption, not loyalty. " The cry of the connection will not, in the end, avail against the principles of liberty. Connection is a wise and a pro- found policy ; but connection without an Irish Parliament is connection without its own principle, without analogy of condition, Avithout the pride of honour that should attend it — is innovation, is peril, is subjugation, not connection. "The cry of disaffection will not, in the end, avail against the principles of liberty. "Identification is a solid and imperial maxim, necessary for the preservation of freedom, necessary for that of empii'e; but without union of hearts, with a separate Government, and without a separate Parliament, identification is extinction, is dishonour, is conquest, not identification. "Yet I do not give up the country; I see her in a swoon, but she is not dead ; though in her tomb she lies helpless and motionless, stUl there is on her lips a spirit of life, and on her cheek a glow of beauty. ' Thou art not conquered ; beauty's ensign yet Is crimson on thy lips and in thy clieeks, And death's pale flag is hot advanced tiere.' ""While a plank of the vessel sticks together, I will not leave her. Let the courtier present his flimsy sail, and carry tiie light bark of his faith with every new breath of wind; I wUl remain anchored here with fidelity to the fortunes of my country, faithful to her freedom, faithful to her fall." But vain were all the efforts of genius, eloquence, fidelity, patriotism, and valour. On the 7th of June the bUi was read for the third tune iif the House of Commons, and passed. Most of the Anti-unionists rose and left the House, in order not to witness the extinction of their country's independence by her own degenerate sons. I remember having heard an old Church-of-Englaud clergyman relate with what indignant scorn he and his fellow- students of Trinity College turned aside, that night, from Dr. Brown, one of the members of the University — an American by birth — ^who had sold himself to the minister. All refused to speak to him. Indeed, the names of most of the rene- gades to their country's cause are tena- ciously held in memory and execration by the Irish people to this day. And those who held out gallantly to the last are embalmed in the honoured, in the affectionate rememberance of their coun- trymen. It cannot be denied that the Irish Parliament was corrupted ; but the Irish representatives in London are to-day far more easily and surely corrupted;, and, as ]\Ir. Mitchel justly observes, no assembly in the world's history was ever exposed to such extraordiuary tempta- tion as the two Houses of the Irish Parliament. Four commissioners were appointed to carry the provisions of the compensation statute into execution. Tlie records of their scandalous proceed- ings, Barriagton tells us, Avere ^'■unaccount- ably disposed of." Still, it is known that "Lord Shannon received for his patron- age in the Commons forty-five thousand pounds, the Marquis of Ely forty-five thousand poimds, Lord Clanmorris (be- sides a peerage) twenty-three thousand poimds, Lord Belvidere (besides his douceur) fifteen thousand pounds, and Sir Hercules Langrishe fifteen thousand pounds." Let it be remembered that Castlereagh was not afraid nor ashamed to say in the House of Commons, " Half a million or more was expended, some years ago, to break an opposition: the same, or a greater sum, may be necessary now." Mr. Grattan is our authority for these audacious words of Castlereagh. In his "answer to Lord Clare," Mv. Grattan, after quoting the sentence, says: THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 195 — "So said the principal servant of the Crown. The House heard hun ; I heard him; he said it standmg on his legs to the astonished House and an indignant nation, and he said so in the most exten- sive sense of bribery and corruption. The threat was proceeded on, the peer- age was sold, the caitiffs of coiTuption were everywhere^— in the lobby, in the street, on the steps, and at the door of every parliamentary leader, whose thresholds were worn by the members of the then administration, offermg titles to some, amnesty to others, and corruption to all." But, in reaUty, as I stated before, the purchase-money of the Union amounted to at least five million pounds. There is much truth in John IMitchel's observation on this wholesale bribery: — "What Parliament or Congress has ever been tempted so ? There is no need to make invidioiis or disparaging reflections ; but EngHshmen, and Frenchmen, and Ameri- cans should pray that their respective legislatures may never be subjected to such an ordeal." He adds a note to this passage: — "If bribery upon the same scale — say one hundred million dollars — were now judiciously administered in the English Parliament, a majority could be obtained which would annex the three kingdoms to the United States." In spite of the imdeniable corruptness of the majority in both Houses of the Irish Parliament, lam even inclined to agree with the opinion to which Mr. Mitchel gives ■ expression in the following sentences : — "In fact, he (Castlereagh) felt, with uneasiness, that the genius and eloquence of the land, as well as its integrity, were fuU against him; and no legislative body, ever yet sitting in one House, has pos- sessed so large a proportion of grand orators, learned lawyers, and accom- pUshed gentlemen. It may be fearlessly added, that no Parliament has ever had so large a proportion of honourable men. Had it not been so, the splendid bribes then ready to be thrust into every man's hand would have ensured to the Castle a much greater majority, and we should not have seen the noble ranks of unpur- chaseable patriots thronging so thick on the Opposition benches to the last." It is also to be borne in mmd that appar- ently some few members voted for the Union from a sincere, but mistaken, con- Tiction that the measure would prove beneficial to Ireland. These were unin- fluenced by fear or favour, their hands were clean. I regret that want of space prevents me from giving the list of the names of the purchased lawyers and other traitors who voted for the Union. It is well to hand their infamy down to posterity ; it is well that the manner in which certain powerfid Irish families rose to title and eminence should be generally known. The case of Mr. Trench of Woodiawn, afterwards created Lord Ashtown, was one of the most nefarious and barefaced instances of bargain and sale that occurred during the entire "Union" struggle. The minister was from an early period bidding for Mr. Trench's honour and conscience, but for a time he failed to bid sufficiently high. One night Trench declares in the House of Com- mons that he will vote against the minister. The minister and Cooke im- mediately whisper together and look anxiously, but still in an undecided manner, towards Trench. Cooke retires to a back seat to count the House. Is Trench worth the price he wants? That is the question. Cooke and Castlereagh again confer in whispers, looking wist- fully and affectionately at the unconscious Trench. At last, however, the eyes of Cooke and Trench met. One glance only, and they understood each other. Cooke is quickly by his side. He finds Trench open to conviction. A smile, and they part. Presently Trench takes occa- sion to apologize to the House for having spoken unguardedly against the measure: on reflection he finds he was rash. Being convinced of his error, he will vote for the minister. This shameless sale of himself by a man of fortune, family, and reputa- tion took place under the eyes of two hundred and twenty gentlemen. (See Barrington's Rise and Fall.) Three Trenches are in the "Black List," and one of them, in addition to his other bribes, was made an ambassador. The names of those who voted for and against the Union are given in the "Red" and "Black Lists," and may be found in Plowden's Appejidix and in Sir Jonah Barrington's Rise and Fall of the Irish Nation. The sayings and protests of the ablest lawyers and purest patriots of Ire- land against the Union, during the long and fierce debates on that question, are a noble set-off to the infamy of the false 196 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. and parricidal Irishmen who betrayed and destroyed their country's indepen- dence; and those glorious words live and will live to influence succeeding patriots to redeem Ireland. In the words of John Mitchel, those " solemn and well-weighed words of warning and expostulation, if they could not save the country for that time, remain on record as a protest, as a continual claim and perpetual muniment of title, on bi.'half of the independence of the Irish nation." O'Connell was never tired of referring to them. When the bill was read the third time in the Irish Upper House, several lords voted against it. The dissenting peers also signed an indignant protest. Here is the concluding paragraph : — " Because the argviment made use of in favour of the Union, namely, that the sense of the people of Ireland is in its favour, we know to be untrue ; and as the ministers have declared that they would not press the measure against the sense of the people, and as the people have jironounced decidedly, and under all difficulties, their judgment against it, we have, together with the sense of the country, the autho- rity of the minister to enter our protest against the project of union, against the yoke which it imposes, the dishonour which it inflicts, the disqualification passed upon the peerage, the stigma thereby branded on the realm, the dis- proportionate principles of expense it introduces, the means employed to eifect it, the discontent it has excited and must continue to excite. Against all these, and the fatal consequences they may produce, we have endeavoured to inter- pose our votes ; and, failing, we transmit to after times our names in solemn protest on behalf of the parliamentary constitu- tion of this realm, the liberty which it secured, the trade which it protected, the connection which it preserved, and the constitution which it supplied and forti- fied. This we feel ourselves called upon to do in support of our characters, our honour, and whatever is left to us worthy to be transmitted to our posterity." This document is signed by the following- peers :—" Leinster, Arran, Mountcashel, Farnham, Belmore (by proxy), Massy (by proxy), Strangford, Granard, Ludlow (by proxy), Moira (by proxy), Rev. Waterford and Lismore, Powerscourt, De Vesci, Charlemont, Kingston (by proxy). Rivers- dale (by proxy), Meath, Lismore (by proxy), Sunderlin." In the English House of Lords the Marquis of Downshire, who, like many other Irish peers, had an Eng- lish peerage also, said ^'that his opinion of the measure remained unaltered, and that he would therefore give the bill his decided negative." The scenes in the Irish Commons on the night when the bill finally passed there — that of June 7th— were solemn and impressive ; yet, like most Irish scenes, there was a certain element of the ludicrous mixed with the tragic features of the drama. Mr. O'Donnell moved a postponement of the third reading (he is supposed to have moved or declared, on the 5th, that the people ought to resist the Union by force). Mr. Francis Dobbs, a learned lawyer and accomplished gentle- man — who, however, was a fanatic, if not an out-and-out madman, on the one sub- ject of the milh;nnium — rose to support him in a most extraordinary speech.. This gentleman believed that Ireland was decreed by rro\adence to be an indepen- dent State for ever. Ireland was also to be the birthplace of Antichrist; and in Ireland the Messiah was destined, at his second coming, to reign. The oration of Mr. Dobbs — which was the last note- worthy speech delivered against the Union — embodied whimsical notions of this description. The divided and convulsed state of Europe was a fulfilment of one of Daniel's prophecies; consequently, it was manifest the millennium was drawing near. The detestable measure of the Union occasioned hivi (Mr. Dobbs) little fear or concern, as he felt that it could never be operative. The House was partly amused and partly shocked by this singular discourse. Of course O'Don- neU's motion was lost. Sir Jonah Barrington gives a graphic, though, it has been thought, somewhat theatrical, description c-f the closing scene that night. Some touches in the picture may^ indeed, be slightly exaggerated, yet I am inclined to think that, on the whole. Sir Jonah's account gives us a true and vivid idea of what really took place. He particularly describes the grief and em- barrassment of the Speaker, Foster, who- was an uncompromising enemy of the measure, yet obliged by his office to pro- claim its consummation. Mr. Fosters- disturbed feelings were visible in the agitated expression of his countenance and in the tones of his voice. The fol- THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 197 lowing paragraphs from Barrington can- not fail to interest, at least, every Irish reader whose mind is animated by a single spark of patriotism : — •• The galleries were full, but the change was lamentable. They were no longer crowded with those who ha,d been accus- tomed to witness the eloquence and to animate the debates of that devoted asFembly. A monotonous and melan- choly murmur ran through the benches; scarcely a word was exchanged amongst the members. Nobody seemed at ease ; no cheerfulness was apjiarent, and the ordinary business for a short time pro- ceeded in the usual manner. "At length the expected moment ar- rived. The order of the day — for the third reading of the Bill for a Legislative Union between Great Britain and Ireland — was moved by Lord Castlerjagh. Un- varied, tame, cold-blooded, the words seemed frozen as they issued from his lips, and as if, a simple citizen of the Avorld, he seemed to have no sensation on the subject. "The Speaker, Mr Foster, who was one of the most vehement opponents of the Union from first to last, would have risen and left the House with his friends, if he could; but this would have availed nothing. With grave dignity he pre- sided over '.the last agony of the expiring Parliament.' He held up the bill for a moment in silence, then asked the usual question, to which the response, '^4^.' was languid, but unmistakable. Another momentary pause ensued. Again his lips seemed to decline their office. At length, with an eye averted from the object Avhich he hated, he proclaimed, with a subdued voice, ' The ayes have it.' For ail instant he stood statue - like, then, indignantly and in disgust, flung the bill upon the table and sank into his chair with an exhausted spirit." This is the picture, be it remembered, of an eye-witness. On this disastrous and memorable night, bands of red sol- diery were drawn up under the colonnades of that Senate House which, to borrow the language of the late Thomas Francis Meagher, "lends an Italian glory" to the Irish metropolis. Batteries of artillery, too, were kept in readiness to sweep the surrounding streets on the first symptoms of a popular outbreak. I may here re- mark that Sir Jonah Barrington deserves the praise due to every member of the expiring legislature, who, spurning alike bribes and intimidation, strove liard to the last to prevent the Act of Union from passing into law. The humorous knight's staunchness during this entire struggle ought to covfer many a fault. Mr. Mitchel says of this night's proceedings : ' ' Doubt- less to many readers this closing perform- ance will appear somewhat histrionic and melodramatic. Yet, in sad and bitter earnest, that scene was deep tragedy; and its catastrophe is here with us at this day, in thousands upon thousands of ruined cabins, and pining prisoners, and outlawed rebels, and the poverty and hunger that move and scandalize the Avorld." The English bill received the royal assent on the 2nd of July. On the 29th of July, in proroguing the last separate legislature of Great Britain, the king congratulated his Parliament, and said he should ever consider the Union " the happiest event of his reign." Though the Irish bill had passed before the English, yet the i-oyal assent was not given in Ireland till the 1st of August, the anniversary of the accession of "brutal Brunswick's" line to the throne of the three kingdoms. In putting an end to the last session of the last Irish Parlia- ment, next day Lord Cornwallis com- municated; "by His Majesty's express command," to the bribed legislators who had annrhUated the independence of their country, "his warmest acknowledgments for tha.t ardent zeal and unshaken per- severance " which they had shewn in •'maturing and completing" the Union. With facetious irony, he complimented them on "the proofs" given by them of " uniform attachment to the real interests of their country," which, he still more humorously adds, will "not only entitle you to the full approbation of yom- sovereign, and to the applause of your fellow-subjects, but must afford you the surest claim to the gratitude of posterity." This speech is a perfectly beautiful speci- men of double-distilled British cant. When all was over, Castlereagh, in per- son, cooly locked tlie doors of the Par- liament House, and carried off the keys. The Union took effect on the 1st of January, 1801. On that day a new im- perial standard (the one ever since in use) floated over the Tower of London and on the Castles of Dublin and Edinburgh. This standard is "quartered, first and 198 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O'CONNELL. fourtli England, second Scotland, third Ireland." It was then Ireland's harp got its place on England's great banner. The Union-jack, with its crosses of St. Andrew, St. Patrick; and St. George, was ordained at the same time. The debt of Ireland had been not above four millions stei'ling previous to the rebellion. But the expenses of the large amiy, required to crush the revolt and overawe the people, and of the nefarious devices emploj^ed to carry the Union, had m three years swelled it to £26,841,219. Ireland, in short, had to pay the bill for the slaughter of her sons and the extinction of her nationality. Eeferring to this, O'Connell observed, with bitter, sarcastic humour,— "It was strange that Ireland was not afterwards made to pay for the knife with which Lord Castlereagh, twenty -two years later, cut his own throat." Under English management, the debt went on increasing tv/iee as fast as the English debt. In 1801 the Irish debt was to the English as one to sixteen and a-half. By clever British manipulation it was in a few years as one to seven and a-half. This increased debt was made the pretext for raising Ireland's taxation to the high British standard. The two conditions of amalgamation required by the Union being in this fashion fulfilled,* the two debts were consolidated in 1817, and Ireland was henceforward liable to the pre-union debt of Great Britain. "Woe to the land on whose judgment-seats a stranger sits, at whose gates a stranger watches!" Mr. Mitchell adds — "whose books a stranger keeps ! " Immediately after the passing of the Act of the Union, those Cathohc prelates and gentlemen who had been seduced into the pro -union ranks, fomid that they had been swindled by the false promises of the British Government. The hopes of speedy emancipation were all a delusion, and remained so till O'Connell's victory at the Clare election in 1829. Pitt juggled the Catholic Union- ists famously. He resigned, that a neces- sary peace might be made with France, which his pride prevented him from negotiating himself. It would not do, liowevcr, to admit his real motives. He pretended, then, that the cause of his resignation was the obstinate refusal of George III. to tolerate the notion of Catholic emancipation. But the king's inveterate obstinacy on this point had been just as well known to Pitt when he was holding out deceitful hopes to the Catholic prelates and men of influ- ence. Plowden, the historian, was one of those Catholic supporters of the Union. Ten years later he writes in the very first page of the second series of his Historical Recollections: '-'They {the Catholics) now beheld the baleful measure of the Union in its fuU deformity." The pajDer* given by Lord Cornwallis to Dr. Troy, the Catholic archbishop of DubHu, and the Earl of Fingal, though intended to be kept secret, was soon made public. Mr. Grey, afterwards Earl Grey, in the House of Commons charged the promises to the Catholics with having been given v/ithout sincerity and without authority. He accused the Government of criminaKty, and called for inquiry. Pitt said "he had no part in the icording of that paper. It was drawn up by Lord Castlereagh." He denied "that any pledge had been given to the Catholics by himself. Lord Cornwallis, or the noble lord near him (Castlereagh)." Mr. Plowden v,Tote to Cornwallis, who replied that the paper "was hastily given by him to Dr. Troy, to be circulated amongst his friends, with a view of preventing any immediate dis- turbances or other bad effects." Such was the infamous manner in which these honourable English warriors and states- men wriggled out of the performance of their pledges to the Catholics. But if emancipation was refused to the Irish, the ministers delayed not to give them a fresh Act to suspend the writ of Habeas Corpus^ and establish martial law. Through Castlereagh's management fresh alarms were excited by the report of a secret committee. This was following in the footsteps of Pitt's policy. If we accept Mr. Plowden's statement, "none but the Catholic supporters of the Union had to complain of ministerial infidehty in the observance of previous stipulations and promises." But the story of the celebrated Chancellor Clare's weU-merited fate seems to contradict this assertion. Though Pitt spoke of Lord Clare as "that great luminary of the law who had rendered such eminent services to his country," he at the same time cautioned Mr. Addington, the new pre- mier, against admitting him to any share * A paper showing plainly that the minister had promised emancipatiou. THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL, 199 of power in the imperial councils. In the Jjnglish House of Lords the Irish chancellor, when he tried, m his old style, to browbeat the Whig lords, and pre- sumed to call them "Jacobins," was soon rudely pulled up and snubbed by the Duke of Bedford. The duke told Lord Clare that his language was " such as they wouldn 't brook from their own equals, much less from the upstart pride of chance nobility." In vain Clare pan- dered to English prejudice by running down his own country. He was allowed no voice in the new mmisterial arrange- ments. The cravings of his inordinate ambition were left wholly unsatisfied. He had betrayed his country to the English Government, and, instead of being rewarded wth vast power, he was even treated with humiliating neglect. Stung by these mortifications and the pangs of baffled ambition, he would fre- quently express, in the bitterest terms, his selfish and miavaiiing regret at having assisted to carry the Union. He would complain, that while formerly alike the highest a,ppointment and the lowest favour depended on his pleasure, he was now without the smallest influence or control. He determined to withdraw from the political theatre where he played so poor a part, and confine himseM to the duti-es of his office in Ireland. But with the Union the Irish chancellorship had lost its highest importance. Clare's retreat was only a modified form of 'dis- grace. The rage of his proud spirit wasted his frame, so that he died in January, 1802. He was buried with pomp in St. Peter's churchyard, Dublin ; but the populace threw a shower of dead cats on his grave. Thus the elevation, won by so much talent and energy, such crimes and baseness, was to Lord Clare, in the end, but a mockery and a snare. The Union, instead of being the path to power and glory, led hun only to his grave and ignominy. His titles and honours even, such as they were, are extinct. His last heir male, the young Lord Fitzgibbon, perished in the light cavalry charge at Balaklava. A superstitious person would say the house could have had no better luck. The founder of its fortunes, the chanceUor's father, had in the course of his life "played many parts." He had been successively a vagrant boy, a Catho- lic ecclesiastical student, a priest, a rene- gade, and an unscrupulous lawyer. The closing words of Grattan's reply to the Earl of Clare, written in April, 1800, were almost prophetical: — "Considering his situation more than he has done him- self, I consign him to judges more severe than I could be, and to him the most awful, and, on this side the grave, the most tremendous, — his countky and his CONSCIENCE ! " The end of the other arch-traitor to Ireland, Castlereagh, was miserable also. Twenty-two years later than the passing of the Act of Union, driven on by the furies of insanity, he inflicted on himself a mortal wound in the neck. His country- men in London assembled aromid West- minster Abbey on the day of his bm-ial, and welcomed the betrayer of their country to his grave with three voci- ferous cheers. Mr. iVIitchel says: — "It is singular that the only two eminent men who were, within the present century, borne to their graves amidst the hootings of the people were the Earl of Clare and the Marquis of Londonderry (Castle- reagh), the two able tools of British policy in ruining the independence of their country." To Londonderry, Lord Byron has given an evil immortality in Don Juan, especially in the lines where he caUs him " Carotid artery-cutting Castlereagh." Before bringing this chapter to a close, it is necessary to say something of Robert Emmet, and the insurrection of 1803. Robert Emmet, the son of a distinguished Dublin physician, was the younger brother of the "United Irish" leader, Thomas Addis Emmet. He was born on the 4th of March, 1778. When a student of Trinity College, Dublin, he was distinguished in the College His- torical Society by his eloquent advocacy of national and democratic principles. Of Emmet, Tommy Moore writes thus in his life of Lord Edward Fitzgerald: — " Were I to number the men among all I have ever known, who appeared to me to combine in the greatest degree pure moral worth with intellectual power, I should, among the liighest of the few, place Robert Emmet. * * * He was wholly free from the foUies and frailties of youth, though how capable he was of the most devoted passion events after- wards proved." Of his oratory, Moore says: — "I have heard little since that ap- peared to me of a loftier, or, what is a 200 THE LIFE OF DA^^IEL O CONNELL. far more rare quality in Irish eloquence, purer character." Of his personal ap- pearance, he says: — "Simple in ail his habits, and with a repose of look and manner indicating but little movement within, it was only wheal the spring was touched that set his feelings, and through them his intellect, in motion, that he at all rose above the level of ordinary men. No two individuals, indeed, could be much more unlike to each other, than was the same youth to hmiself before rising to speak and after. The brow that had appeared inanimate and almost drooping, at once elevating itself to all the con- sciousness of power, and the whole countenance and figure of the speaker assuming a change as of one suddenly inspired." So great was the effect pro- duced among the students by his elo- quence, that the heads of the college, on several occasions, sent one of the ablest of their body to the debates of the His- torical Society, in order to refute the arguments of the ■• young Jacobin." They did not deem even this measure of precaution sufficient; for, in Feb- ruary, 1778, they expelled Robert and several of his political associates from the university. After '98, as he had par- ticipated in the acts of the leaders of the conspiracy, he was obliged to take refuge on the Continent. He travelled through the south of France, Switzerland, and part of Spain. He also visited Amster- dam and Brussels, to which city his brother had repaired on his release. Some of the other political prisoners, who had been released from Fort George, were in France now. He burned to strike another blow for Ireland's independence. And there were many circumstances to encourage him in thinking such an at- tempt might be crowned with success. It was evident that the English had not made the peace of Amiens with France in good faith; that they had only agreed to it to gain a little breathing time to recover from their exhaustion. They perfidiously refused to fulfil then* engage- ment to give up INIalta. Bonaparte was justly indignant at this breach of faith. In a word, a fresh war was inevitable. In 1802, Emmet had interviews with the first consul and the celebrated Tally- rand, who gave him reason to hope for assistance from France. Later, some of the refugees, especially Thomas Addis Emmet, Dr McNeven, and Arthur O'Con- nor, entered into regular negotiations with Bonaparte. Indeed, there is reason to be- lieve that the project of Robert Emmet's attempt did not originate with himself. We have proof prositive, too, that at this time a great panic prevailed in Eng- land. Lord Charles Bentinck writes, on the 2nd June, 1802, to his brother. Lord William Bentinck, Governor of Madras: —"If Ireland be not attended to. it will be lost. These rascals " {evidently hh lord- ship'' s pet name for the IrisK) " are as ripe as ever for rebellion." A letter to General Clinton, of the same date, states that if the Freiach troops could land "in the north of Ireland, they would be received with satisfaction, and joined by a great number." Lord Grenville, in a letter to the Marquis of Wellesley, of the 12th July, says: — "I hope nothing will pre- vent me from having the pleasiure of seeing you next year, supposing at that period that you have still a comitry to revisit.^' Mr. Finers, writing to General Lake, July 14th, says the invasion "will cer- tandy take place." Mr. Thomas Faulder, a director of the East India Company, writes, on the 3rd August, to Mr J. Ferguson Smith of Calcutta, that if the French effect a landing, "they will be immediately joined by one hundred thou- sand Irish." Robert Emmet set out for Ireland early in October, 1802. He remained in seclu- sion for some weeks. Gradually and catitiously, however, he got into com- munication with the remaining leaders of the old " United Irish " movement. He was full of enthusiasm, and sanguine of success. The day before he left Paris, Lord Cloncurry dined with him and Sur- geon Lawless. That patriotic nobleman, who himseK suffered severe imprison- ment, and made great sacrifices for Ire- land, tells us : — ' ' Emmet spoke of his plans with extreme enthusiasm. His features glowed with excitement; the perspiration burst through the pores, and ran down his forehead." He was encouraged, moreover, by the knowledge that a secret revolutionary society was at this time working in England. This, however, shortly after his return to Ireland, was broken up in London. Colonel Despard and thirty other per- sons were arrested. The colonel was convicted, and hanged. The Government had been cognizant of his proceedings six months previous to his arrest. la- THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. 201 deed, there can be little doubt that the were co.qriizant of Emmet's conspiracy, too, long before it exploded. In 1802 he dined at Mount Jerome, then the residence of Mr. John Keogh (O'Con- nelVs predecessor in the leadership of the Catholic body), along witli John Philpot Curran. Emmet spoke vehe- mently of the probability of success if another insurrection were attempted. Keogh asked. How many counties would rise in such an event? Emmet answered, that nineteen could be relied on. Keogh encouraged him to go on. Next day a magistrate called on Keogh and carried off liis papers. Mr. Plowden tells us that Government, .on this occasion, ''made the full experiment of their favourite tactic of not urging the rebels to postpone their attempts by any ap- pearance of too much precaution and preparation, of inviting rebellion in order to ascertain its extent, and of forcing- premature explosion for the purpose of radical cure." The state of affairs in Ireland increased the hopes of Emmet. All the promises of immediate prosperity to follow in the wake of the Union had remained unful- filled. The crops of 1801 had failed. Want of food and suffering produced discontent among the masses, and, in some localities, disturbances. Trade and commerce were decaying. According to a statement of ex-Speaker Foster, in the Imperial Parliament, the decrease of ex- ported linen in 1801 was five million yards. Ireland's debt, and consequently her taxes, were increasing. The great bulk of the nation was exasperated by the Union. The Catholics were especially indignant with the Government for having broken faith on the question of emanci- pation. Besides, they had to endure grosser insults and injuries than ever from the Orange Society, which, greatly augmented in numbers, was now directly encouraged by the Government and by one of the king's sons. At the Orange celebration of the 12th of July, 1802, tlie anniversciry of the battle of Aughrim, the people were irritated beyond all patience by the insolent conduct of the yeomanry. Some of the latter were beaten to the ground. Major Swan was knocked down and seriously wounded. The populace were not dispersed without considerable trouble. Several were taken and severely punished by the authorities. In short, all through the island it was plain that a strong spirit of disaffection still held possession of the people's hearts. Emmet's plan was suddenly to seize the Castle of Dublin and the British authorities, and then give the signal for a general insui-rectiou. Chef de Battail- loii Miles Byrne, who was engaged with Emmet in the affair, approves of Emmet's plans. He says : — ' ' They were only frus- trated by accident and the explosion of a. depot ; and, as I have always said, when- ever Irishmen think of obtaining freedom, Robert Emmet's plans -will be their best guide. First to take the capital, and then the provinces will burst out and raise the same standard immediately." Many men of mark, and some even of high position, are said to have favoured Emmet's plans. Be this as it may, he pushed on his pre- parations actively. He collected arms, and established depots of them in vari- ous parts of Dublin. Pistols and blun- derbusses were manufactured, pikes were forged and mounted, and ammunition laid in. The pikes were placed in hollow logs, and drawn through the streets to the depots like ordinary lumber. Emmet himself invented an ingenious kind of explosive machine, filled with powder and small stones, intended to be exploded iu the face of advancing columns of soldiers. At this time Emmet's excellent father died. The necessity of trying to keep his presence in Dublin a secret, prevented him from attending the funeral. One Saturday night, a little more than a week before the evening appointed for the attempt, an explosion of combustibles took place in the Patrick Street depot, which alarmed the neighbourhood. Sirr examined the house next day. Previous to his comuig, everything likely to awake suspicion was removed or concealed. He made no discovery. The explosion was judged to be the accidental result of some chemical process. It is not easy to determine exactly how much, or how little knowledge of the conspyiracy the Government was at this time in posses- sion of.* l\o doubt, their spies were every day filling their ears with alarm- ing stories; but these generally proving false, it is possible that they became at last as incredulous as those in the old fable, who refused to attend to the boy who was always crying, "Wolf, wolf!" * Emmet did not organize his followers as an oath- bound society. 202 THE LIFE OF DANIEL o'CONNELL. ■when the wolf really came to devour him. After this explosion, Emmet took up his abode in the Marshalsea Lane depot. His position was every day becoming more and more dangerous. His life was at the mercy of more than forty persons. Yet he was full of confidence. His en- thusiasm made light of all the difficulties that stood in his path. The wrongs of his country kindled a sacred wrath in his soul. If treachery, as Myles Byrne alleges, were really "tracking his footsteps, dogging hun from j)lace to place," his noble heart seems not to have suspected it. " It never occurred to him," says Dr. Madden, "that he was betrayed — that every design of his was frustrated, every project neutralised, as effectually as if an enemy had stolen into the camp." At last the appointed day, the 23d of July, arrives. There is division in his councils. Some call for postponement; others are in favour of an immediate rising. Emmet himself declares for the bolder course. Miles Byrne tells us: — "Now the final plan to be executed con- sisted principally in taking the Castle, whilst the Pigeon House, Island Bridge, the Royal Barracks, and the Old Custom- House Barracks were to be attacked, and if not surprised and taken, they were to be blockaded, and entrenchments thrown up before them. Obstacles of every kind to be created through the streets, to pre- vent the English cavalry from charging. The Castle once taken, undaunted men, materials, implements of everv descrip- tion, would be easHy found in all the streets in the city, not only to impede the cavalry, but to prevent infantry from passing through them." But everything went wrong. Tlie Wicklow men, who were expected in, failed to arrive; for the man who was to bear the order to their leader, the valiant outlaw, Michael Dwyer, neglected his duty, and went no farther than Eathfarnham. The Kildare men arrived, indeed, but a traitor told them that Emmet had postponed his enterprise ; so they all went back at five o'clock in the afternoon. At least two hundred picked Wexford men came into Dublin, and remained, under the orders of Miles Byrne, in a house on Coal Quay, during the early part of the night, with a view to co-operate with Emmet in his attack on the Castle. No order,' however, reached them. The attack was never made. At the Broadstone a large body waited anxiously for the rocket which was to be their signal of action. The rocket never ascended. Emmet to the last thought he had large bodies of men at his disposal. In this he was deceived. At eight o'clock in the evening he foimd himself at the head of eighty men in the depot in Marshalsea Lane. Some one rushed in with the false intelligence that the troops were in full march on them. Emmet thoYight the tidings true, and, abandoning his original plan, sallied forth at once into Thomas Street with his handful of men, some of whom were drunk, and nearly all insubordinate. Assisted by a faithful adherent named Stafford, he vainly tried to preserve order. The stragglers in the rear speedily com- menced acts of pUlage and assassination. Their first victim was a Islr. Leech of the custom-house ; hun they dragged out of a hackney-coach, and, in spite of his prayers for merey, piked him in the groin, lca^'ing him half-dead; he suhsequently recovered, however. But now the coach of Lord IvQwarden, the Chief-justice, is seen approaching. He was an excellent and humane judge. He had saved many an innocent prisoner from death. We have already seen how he once pro- tected Tone, and how, in the final crisis of his fate, he did his best to save him. Unfortunately, the frantic mob were now beyond control and athirst for blood. They stopped KUwarden's coach. He called out, "It is I, Kilwarden, Chief- justice of the King's Bench." One Shannon, it is said, cried out, " You are the man I want." This man rushed forward and plunged his pike into the humane judge. Already mortally wounded, Kilwarden was dragged out of the carriage and received several additional pike -thrusts. His daughter and his nephew, the Reverend Richard Wolfe, were with him. The latter, trying to escape, was put to death. The mob offered no insult to the young lady. She remained unmolested ia the carriage tiQ one of the leaders, Emmet himself it is said, led her to a neigbouring house. She finally made her way on foot, in a state of distraction, to the Castle, and was the first bearer of the mournful in- telligence of her unfortunate father's murder. He was found lying on the pavement mortally wounded. He was carried in a dying state to the watch- THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 203 house in Vicar Street. Some account for his murder by sayiug that his assassins mistook him for Lord Carleton, the judge who had sentenced the Shearses. Others state that his first assailant had had a relative sentenced by him. Be this as it may, the deed was a dreadful and wanton crime. Emmet had halted his party at the market-house with a view of restoring order. But they had become a mere in- subordinate mob. It was at this moment that he heard of the murder. He then retraced his steps. Finally, seeing that all was kretrievably lost, he and some of the leaders around hmi gave up their project. A detachment of troops aj^pear at the corner of Cut-purse Row. They fixe on the insurgents, who scatter at once. The whole affair is over in less than an hour from its commencement. On the street called the Combe, indeed, some resistance is made. Colonel Bro^vn and two members of the Liberty Rangers are killed. The guard-house on the Combe had been resolutely attacked. Numerous dead bodies lie around it. Next clay the depots are searched, and quantities of arms and uniforms and eight thousand copies of two proclama- tions are seized. O'Connell was in the yeomanry at this tiine. In one of his speeches he states, if .1 remember rightly, that he was in arms during the whole of this night of the 23rd of July, 1803. Passing through James's Street one day, duruig his last repeal agitation, with IMr. O'Neil Daunt, he pomted out to his companion "a dusky- red brick house, with stone cornices and architraves, on the south side of the street." This house, I may as well observe, has since been pidled down, the grov.ind it occupied having, it seems, been required by the Great South-western Railway Company. " That," said O'Connell to Mr. Daunt, " was the Grand Canal Hotel. One night in 1803 I searched every* room in that house." " For what did you search?" inquires Mr. Daunt. " For Croppies," quoth Dan. " I was then a member of the Lawyers' Corps, and constantly on duty. After I had stood sentry for three successive nights, Nicholas Purcell O'Gorman's turn came." (Nicholas Piircell 0^ Gorman was a barrister cf considerable distinction, a contemporary of 0''Conn€ll, also uncle to Richard 0^ Gor- man, noio of New Yo7±, in '48 one of the Young Ireland leaders). " He had recently been ill, and told me the exposure to night air would probably kill him. ' I chall be in a sad predicament,' said he, ' unless you take my tivcn of duty for me. If I refuse, they'll accuse me of cowardice or croppyism ; if I mount guard, it wiU be the death of me.' So I took his place, and thus stood guard for six consecutive nights. One night a poor boy was taken up in Dame Street after midnight; he said, in his defence, that he was going on a message from his master, a notary public, to give notice for protest of a bill. The hour seemed a very unlikely one for such a purpose, and we searched his person for treasonable documents. We foimd in his waistcoat pocket a sheet 'of paper, on which were rudely scrawled several di'awings of pikes. He turned pale with fright and trembled aU over, but persisted in the account he had given us of himself. It was easily tested, and a party immediately went to his master's house to make inquiry. His master confirmed his statement, but the visitors, whose suspicions were excited by the drawing, rigidly searched the whole house for pikes — prodded the beds to try if there were any concealed in them — ^found all right, and returned to our guard -house about three in the morning." To return to the unfortunate Robert Emmet: he retired in the first instance to Rathfarnliam ; subsequently he betook himself to the VV'ickiow mountains. The Wicklow insiurgents were still bent on continuing the struggle. Emmet, how- ever, deemmg the ca.use lost for thfe time, and naturally disliking all useless effusion of blood, withheld his sanction from an immediate attempt. His followers and friends were now anxious that he should take steps, without further loss of time, to make his escape out of the country. Would he had taken their friendly and prudent advice! But he was eager to have at least one parting interview with his beloved Sarah Curran before leaving Ireland. She was the yoimgest daughter of the illustrious advocate. In an evil hour he returned to his former lodgiugs at Mrs. Palmer's, in Harold's Cross. Here he hoped to be abld'to see Sarah, for the road from her father's country-house, the Priory, 204 THE LIFE OF DANIEL OCONNELL. near Dundrum, to Dublin, Avent through Harold's Cross. It was at this time the poor servant, Anne Devlin, proved her fidelity to him. For more than a month he remained safe. But at last, on the 25th August, he was arrested in his lodgings, at about seven o'clock in the evening, by Major Sirr. The major, it seems, did not know his person ; but when the prisoner was conveyed to the Castle t he was there identified by a gentleman of Trinity College. This gentleman, accord- ing to Dr. Madden, was no less a person than the Avell-knovrn Dr. Elrington, who, before he died, was successively provost of Trinity College and Protestant bishop of Ferns. On the 19th September, Robert Emmet was tried, at a special commission, before Lord Norbury (Toler), Mr. Baron George, and Mr. Baron Daly. Emmet was resolved on making no defence; so that it was little matter when Curran (who, though he defended Kirwan. one of the insur- gents, spoke scornfully of the attempt) refused to act as his counsel. But, as Thomas Davis says, "his refusal to see him was framed too harshly." Of this Emmet himself said, " A man with the coldness of death on him need not be made to feel any other coldness." Some allowance, however, is to be made for Curran, who was all through his Hfe one of our truest patriots, and who, according to the youn/^'^r Tone, had " expressed his anxiety for ^^ .vj^iaration from England." In the words of Davis, "Pie was politi- cally indignant at an explosion which wanted the dignity of even partial success, and yet had done vast injury to the country. Lord Ivilwarden's death had irritated him. for he was his old friend; and, last of all, his own personal feelings had been severely tried by it. "Robert had won Sarah Curran's heart, and some of his letters were found in Curran's house. The rash chieftain had breathed out his whole soul to his love. Curran had to undei'go the inquiries of the Privy Council and accept the generosity of the Attorney- general. " What was stiU worse than any selfish suffering, he saw his daughter smitten as with an edged sword by the fate of her betrothed." Mr. Standish O'Grady, the Attorney- general, who was a humane* man, in prosecuting Emmet made a speech free from harshness; but the conduct of Plunket, who assisted in the prosecution, has left a stain on his great name. He is not, indeed, to blame for accepting the Government brief. Tliat, the celebrated Peter Burrowes, one of Emmet's counsel, tells us he could not have refused, '■'tJion.gh he might have avoided speaking to evidence.''^ Assuredly, when Emmet made no de- fence, either personally or by counsel, it Avas unnecessary for the crown to claim a second speech; at all events, Plunket was not called on to utter furious un- precations like the following, especially as Emmet had in reality only tried to carry into effect the principles Plunket had so often and so eloquently advocated in his Anti-union orations. The great advo- cate should have remembered, too, that Emmet's father was his old friend : — " They " (the insurgents) " imbrue their hands in the most sacred blood of the country, and yet they Arill call upon God to prosper their cause, as it is just! But, as it is atrocious, Avicked, and abominable, I must devoutly invoke that God to con- found and OA'erwhelm it." Emmet, of course, was found guilty ■ When asked, in the usual form, " What he had to say Avhy sentence of death .should not be passed upon him?" he re- plied in those noble words that will for ever live and fructify in every true Irish heart. I make no apology for giving his speech in full : — ' ' My Lords : I am asked what . have I to say Avhy sentence of death should not be pronounced on me according to law. I have nothing to say that can alter your predetermination, nor that it Avill become me to say with any vicAV to the mitigation of that sentence which you are to pro- nounce and I must abide by. But I have that to say which interests me more than life, and which you have laboured to destroy. I have much to say Avhy my reputation should be rescued from the load of false accusation and calumny which has been cast upon it. I do not imagine that, seated Avhere you are, your minds can be so free from prejudice as to receive the least impression from what 1 am going to utter. I have no hopes that I can anchor my character in the breast of a court constituted and trammeled as this is. I only Avish — and that is, the utmost I expect — that your lordships may suffer it to float down your memories vmtainted by the foul breath of prejudice, until it THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CORNELL. 205 finds some more hospitable harbour to sliolter it from the storms by which it is baffeted. Wore I only to suffer death, after being adjudged guilty by your tri- bunal, I should bow in silence, and meet the fate that awaits me without a murmur; but the sentence of the law which delivers my body to the executioner will, through the ministry of the law, labour in its own vindication to consign my character to obloquy; for there must be guilt some- whei-e — whether in the sentence of the court or in the catastrophe, time must determine. A man in my station has not only to encounter the difficulties of fortune and the force of power over minds which it has corrupted or subjugated, but the difficulties of established prejudice. The man dies, but his memory lives. That mine may not perish, that it may live in the respect of my countrymen, I seize upon this opportunity to vindicate myself from some of the charges alleged against me. When my spirit shall be wafted to a more friendly port — when my shade shall have joined, the bands of those martyred heroes who have shed their blood on the scaffold and in the field in defence of their country and of virtue — this is my hope : I wish that my memory and name may animate those who survive me, while I look down with complacency on the destruction of that perfidious Government which up- holds its domination by blasphemy of the Most High — which displays its power over man as over the beasts of the forest : — which sets man upon his brother and lifts his hand, in the name of God, against the throat of his fellow who believes or doubts a little more or a little less than the Government standard — a Government which is steeled to barbarity by the cries of the orphans and the tears of the widows it has made."' [Here Lord Norbuiy interrupted Mr. Emmet, saying, "that the mean and wicked enthusiasts, who felt as he did, were not equal to the accomplishment of their wild designs."] "I appeal to the immaculate God — I swear by the throne of Heaven, before which I shall shortly appear — by the blood of the murdered patriots who have gone before me — that my conduct has been, through all this peril and through all my purposes, governed only by the conviction which I have uttered, and by no other view than that of the emancipa- tion of my country from the superin- human oppression under which she has so long and too patiently travailed; and I confidently hope that, wild and chimeri- cal as it may appear, there is still union and strength in Ireland to accomplish this noblest of enterprises. Of this I speak with the confidence of intimate knowledge, and with the consolation that appertains to that confidence. Think not, my lords, I say this for the petty gratification of giving you a transitory uneasiness. A man, who never yet raised his voice to assert a lie, will not hazard his character with posterity by asserting a falsehood on a subject so important to his country, and on an occasion like this. Yes, my lords, a man who does not wish to have his epitaph written until his country is liber- ated, will not leave a weapon in the power of envy, or a pretence to impeach the probity which he means to preserve even in the grave to which tyranny con- signs him." [Here he jvas again mterrupted by the court.] " Again I say, that what 1 have spoken was not intended for your lordship, whose situation I commiserate rather than envy; my expressions were for my countrymen. If there is a true Irishman present, let my Avords cheer him in the hour of his afflic- tion." [Here he was again interrupted. Lord Norbury said he did not sit there to hear treason.] "I have always imderstood it to be the duty of a judge, when a prisoner has been convicted, to pronounce the sentence of the law. I have also understood that judges sometimes think it their duty to hear with patience and to speak with hu- manity; to exhort the victim of the laws, and to offer with tender benignity then- opinions of the motives by which he was actuated in the crime of which he was adjudged guilty. That a judge has thought it his duty so to have done, I have no doubt ; but where is the boasted freedom of your institutions, where is the vaunted impartiality, clemency, and mild- ness of your courts of justice, if an un- fortimate prisoner, whom your policy, and not justice, is about to deliver into the hands of the executioner, is not suffered to explain his motives sincerely and truly, and to vindicate the principles by which he was actuated? My lords, it may be a part of the system of angry 206 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O'CONNELL. justice to bow a man's mind by humilia- tion to the purposed, ignominy of the scaffold ; but worse to me than the pur- posed shame or the scaffold's terrors would be the shame of such foul and unfounded imputations as have been laid against me in this court. You, my lord, are a judge ; I am the supposed culprit. I am a man ; you are a man also. By a revolution of power we might change places, though we never could change cha- racters. If I stand at the bar of this court, and dare not vindicate my character, what a farce is your justice ! If I stand at this bar, and dare not vindicate my character, how dare you culumniate it? Does tiie sentence of death, which your unhallowed policy inflicts on my body, condemn my tongue to silence and my reputation to reproach? Your executioner may abridge the period of my existence, but while I exist I shall not forbear to vindicate my cha- racter and motives from your aspersions; and, as a man to whom fame is dearer than Life, I will make the last use qi that life in doing justice to that reputation which is to live after me, and v/hich is the only legacy I can leave to those I honour and love, and for whom I am proud to perish. As men, my lords, we must appear on the great day at one common tribunal, and it will then remain for the Searcher of all hearts to shew a collective universe who was engaged in the most virtuous actions or swayed by the purest motives — my country's oppressors or " [Here he was interrupted, and told to listen to the sentence of the law.] '• My lords, will a dying man be denied the legal privilege of exculijating himself in the eyes of the community from an undeserved reproach, thrown upon him during his trial, by chargmg him with ambition, and attemping to cast away for a paltry consideration the liberties of his coimtry? Why did your lordships insult me — or rather, why insult justice, in demanding of me why sentence of death should not be pronounced against me? I know, my lords, that form prescribes that you should ask the question. The form also presents the right of answering This, no doubt, may be dispensed with, and so miglit the whole ceremony of the trial, since sentence was already pro- nounced at the Castle before the jury were empanneled. Your lordships are but the priests of the oracle, and I insist on the whole of the forms." [Here Mr. Emmet paused, and the court desired him to proceed.] " I am charged with being an emissary of France. An emissary of France ! And for what end? It is alleged that _ I wished to sell the independence of my country; and for what end? Was thi& the object of my ambition? And is this the mode by which a tribunal of justice reconciles contradiction ? No ; I am no emissary, and my ambition was to hold a place among the deliverers of my country — not in power nor in profit, but in the glory of the achievement. Sell my country's independence to France! And for what? Was it a change of masters? No, but for my ambition. O my country! was it personal ambition that could influence me? Had it been the soul of my actions, could I not, by my education and fortune, by the rank and consideration of my family, have placed myself amongst the proudest of your oppressors? My coimtry was my idol. To it I sacrificed every selfish, every endearing sentiment; and for it I now offer up myself, O God! No, my lords; I acted as an Irishman, detennined on delivering my country from the yoke of a foreign and unrelenting tyranny, and the more galling yoke of a domestic faction which is its joint partner and perpetrator in the parricide — ^from the ignominy existing with an exterior of splendour and a conscious depravity. It was the wish of my heart to extricate my country from this doubly-riveted des- potism. I wished to place her indepen- dence beyond the reach of any power on earth. I wished to exalt her to that proud station in the world. Coimection with France was indeed intended, but only as far as mutual interest would sanction or require. Were the French to assume any authority inconsistent with the purest independence, it v/ould be the signal for their destruction. We sought their aid — and we sought it as we had assurance we should obtain it — as auxili- aries in war and allies in peace. Were the French to come as invaders or enemies, uninvited by the wishes of the people, I should oppose them to the utmost of my strength. Yes ! my coim- trymen, I shoiild advise you to meet them upon the beach with a sword in one hand and a torch in the other. I would meet them with aU the destructive fury of war. I would animate my coim- THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 207 trynien to immolate them in their boats before they had contaminated the soil of my country. If they succeeded in landing, and if forced to retire before superior discipline, I would dispute every inch of ground, burn every blade of grass, and the last entrenchment of libei-ty should be my grave. What I could not do myself, if I should fall, I should leave as a last charge to my coun- trymen to accomplish ; because I should . feel conscious that Wfe, any more than death, is unprofitable when a foreign nation holds my country in subjection. But it was not as an enemy that the succours of France were to land I looked, indeed, for tbe assistance of France, but I wished to prove to France and to the world that Irishmen deserved to be assisted, that they were indignant at slavery, and ready to assert the inde- pendence and liberty of their country ; I wished to procure for my country the guarantee which Washington procured for America — to procure an aid which, by its example, would be as important as its valour — disciplined, gallant, pregnant with science and experience — that of a people who would perceive the good and polish the rough points of our character. They would come to us as strangers and leave us as friends, after sharing in our perils and elevating our destiny. These were my objects ; not to receive new task- masters, but to expel old tyrants. It was for these ends I sought aid from France ; because France, even as an enemy, could not be more implacable than the enemy alreiidy in the bosom of my country." [Here he was interrupted by the court.] "I have been charged with that im- portance in the emancipation of my country as to be considered the keystone of the combination of Irishmen, or, as your lordship expressed it, ' the hfe and blood of the conspiracy.' You do me honour over much ; you have given to the subaltern all the credit of a superior. There are men engaged in this conspiracy who are not only superior to me, but even to your own conceptions of your- self, my lord — men before the splendour of whose genius and virtues I should bow with respectful deference, and who would think themselves disgraced by shaking your blood-stained hand." [Here he was interrupted.] "What, my lord, shall you tell me, on the passage to the scaffold which that tyranny (of which you are only the intermediary executioner) has erected for my murder, that I am accountable for all the blood that has and will be shed iu this struggle of the oppressed against the oppressor — shall you tell me this, and must I be so very a slave as not to repel it? I do not fear to approach the Omnipotent Judge to answer for the conduct of my whole life; and am I to be appalled and falsified by a mere rem- nant of mortality here? By you, too, although, if it were possible to collect aU the innocent blood that you have shed in yovir unhallowed ministry in one great reservoir, your lordship might swim in it." [Here the judge interfered.] " Let no man dare, when I am dead, to charge me with dishonour, let no man attaint my memory by believing that I could have engaged in any cause but that of my country's liberty and independence, or that I could have become the pliant minion of power in the oppression and misery of my country. The proclamation of the Provisional Government speaks for our views; no inference can be tortured from it to countenance barbarity or debase- ment at home, or subjection, humiliation, or treachery from abroad. I would not have submitted to a foreign oppressor, for the same reason that I would resist the foreign and domestic oppressor. In the dignity of freedom I would have fought upon the threshold of my country, and its enemy should enter only by passing over my lifeless corpse. And am I, who lived but for my country, and who have sub- jected myself to the dangers of the jealous and watchful oppressor, and the bondage of the grave, only to give my countrymen their rights and my country her indepen- dence, — am I to be loaded with calumny, and not suffered to resent it? No ; God forbid!" [Here Norbury indulged in a long tirade. He complained of the "dread- ful treasons" avowed by Emmet. He said the court wished to give him the utmost latitude, hoping he Avould not abuse this indulgence by vindicating criminal principles " through the dan- gerous medimn of eloquent but perverted talents." He canted about the propriety of Emmet's makmg " atonement to expiate his crimes." He raved about his own riglit to control the prisoner's " desperate sentiments, promulgated ^s the effusions of a disturbed and agitated mind." After 208 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. saying, " You, sir, had the honour to be a gentleman by birth," he referred to Emmet's father and to his brother. Temple Emmet, a brilliant young lawyer who had died some years previously, and who, Norbury insisted, would have given the prisoner's talents " the same virtuous direction as his own.'' The judicial buffoon next became scurrilous, talked of bauds of midnight assassins, and abused Emmet for conspiring, for the destruc- tion of the constitution, " with the most profligate and abandoned," and asso- ciating himself "with hostlers, bakers, butchers, and such persons, whom he had invited to his councils." His lord- ship then indulged himself in a final dose of cant or bui'lesque pathos, exclaiming that Emmet " had been educated at a most virtuous and enlightened seminary of learning, " and that his conduct would cause "the ingenious youth of his country" to feel " a throb of indignant sorrow, which would say, — ' Had it been an open enemy, I could liave borne it; but that it should be my companion and my friend ! ' " After this singular jeremiade, the Irish Jeffries ended his jargon, and Emmet was allowed to conclude his address without further interruption.] "If the spirits of the ilhistrious dead participate in the concerns and cares of those who were dear to them in this transitory life, O ever dear and venerated shade of my departed father, look down with scrutiny upon the conduct of your suffering son, and see if I have, even for a moment, deviated from those principles of morality »ud patriotism which it was your care to instill into my youthful mind, and for which I am now about to offer up my life ! My lords, you are im- patient for the sacrifice. The blood which you seek is not congealed by the artificial terrors which suiTOund your victim : it circulates warmly and unruffled through the channels which God created for noble purposes, but which you are now bent to destroy for purposes so grievous that tliej^ cry to heaven — Be yet patient! I have but a few more words to say. I am going to my cold and silent grave — my lamp of life is nearly extin- guislied — my race is run — ^the grave opens to receive me, and I sink into its bosom. I have but one request to ask at my departure from this world: it is the CHARITY OF ITS SILENCE. Let no man write my epitaph; for as no man who knows my motives dare now vindicate them, let not prejudice or ignorance asperse tliem. Let them and me rest in obscurity and peace, and my tomb remain uninscribed, and my memory in oblivion, until other times and other men can do justice to my character. "When my country takes her place among the nations of the earth, then, and not till then, let my epitaph be written. I have done." This noble address was Robert Emmet's last precious bequest to his country. Few dying words of martyred patriots have been so prized by their people as thia testimony of Robert Emmet in behalf of Ireland's nationhood has been treasured in the heart of hearts of his countryiuen. It is impossible to calculate, with even an approach to accuracy, what its effect on the minds of the Irish people has been in the past, or its possible effects in the future. In the poorest rooms in the towns and cities, in the lowliest cabins in the rural districts, it is no unusual thing to find cheap prints of Robert Emmet and cheap cojjies of his speech. There are in existence more likenesses of hini than of any other Irish patriot. There are more copies of his speech extant than of any other specimen of Irish oratory. Even in America the American - born children of Irisli parents find extracts from it in some of the popular elocution- books. From the grave, still anxiously appealing in a voice that rings in our ears witli far more potency than the utterances of even the best and bravest of our living patriots, Robert Emmet, it may be said, yet continues to struggle against British rule, and never ceases to urge his countrymen to strike, again and yet again, for freedom. Dr. Madden tells us that Emmet de- livered this speech " in so loud a tone of voice as to be distinctly heard at the outer doors of the court-house ; and yet, though he spoke in a loud tone, there was nothing boisterous in his manner; his accents and cadence of voice, on the contrary, were exquisitely modulated. His action was very remarkable ; its greater or lesser vehemence corresponded with the rise and fall of his voice. He is described as moving about the dock, as he warmed in his address, with rapid but not ungraceful motions — now in front of the railing before the bench, then retir- ing, as if his body as well as his mind were swelling bevond the measure of its THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 201> chains. His action was not confined to his hands ; he seemed to have acquired a swaying motion of the body when he spoke in public, which was peculiar to him, but there was no affectation in it." But few hours of life now remained for him. On the day of his trial, at ten o'clock, P.M., the barbarous sentence of the law was pronounced. At midnight he was conveyed from Newgate to Kil- mainham jail. He passed through Thomas Street, the scene of his abortive attempt. Immediately after, on the same spot, workmen began to erect the gibbet for his execution. At noon the following day, September 20th, having a few hours previously heard of the death of his fond mother, he stood on the scaffold with a serene countenance and air. Next his bosom he wore a tress of a fair girl's hair. Soon his lifeless body was cut down, the neck placed on the block, and then the head was severed from the trunk. The executioner held up the bleeding head before the pale-faced, agonised crowd, exclaiming, — ^" This is the head of a traitor ! " When the guards — cavalry and infantry^were gone, and the body too removed, the people, old and young, rushed forward to dip their handkerchiefs in his blood, that they might have relics of the patriot martyi-. It is said that Emmet had been told of the existence of a design to rescue him at the very moment appointed for his execu- tion. This plan was defeated by the precautions taken by the Government. Thus perished, in the twenty-sixth year of his age, Robert Emmet, one of the most pure - souled and disinterested patriots that ever appeared on the tragic stage of huma,n history. His noble enthusiasm nerved him to sacrifice, at the call of his country and heroic duty, fair gifts of fortune, still more brilliant prospects, the promise of fame in elo- quence and poesy, the delights of youth, love itself. The immortal melodies of his fellow-student, Moore, have embalmed for all time the sad story of Emmet and the ill-starred lady of his love, who, ere many years passed over, followed him to the grave. Thomas Davis says: — "The cold hand soon seized him — the tender, the young, the beautiful, the brave. Greater men died in the same struggle, but none so warmly loved, nor so pas- sionately lamented." At the Macmanus funeral, in '61, I witnessed a strange and impressive proof of the tenacity with which his countrj^men cling to his memory. The multitudinous procession had to march through Thomas Street and past Catherine's C'hurch, the scene of his final and noblest sacrifice. Slowly the dense, black columns moved along. As they neared the sacred spot, spontaneously the leading files uncovered. All followed their example ; those in the ranks, thoso^ on the footpaths, the crowds in the windows — tens of thousands were in a moment bareheaded in honour of the glorious dead. Similar honours have been paid his memory since ; and, in one of the latest insurrectionary attempts made in Ireland, a banner waved over the insurgents, bearing on its folds the words, " Remember Emmet!" Nor is it wonderful that to this hour — wherever over the spacious earth, whether in their own sacred Isle or in regions far away from home, Irishmen and their children are gathered together — his name is honoured and his ideas have sway; for even his worst opponents have been obliged to pay unwilling homage to his worth. Even Lord Castlereagh, while he described him as " a young man of a heated and enthusiastic imagination," had in the same breath to bear testimony to his disinterestedness. We have his autho- rity for the fact that Emmet devoted the whole of the three thousand pounds which his father had bequeathed to him to his country's cause. Death on the scaffold was Emmet's reward. Castlereagh, on the other hand, destroyed his country, and he was rewarded with wealth, power, and honours. Even the harsh jailers Avho guarded him almost loved Emmet's gentle nature, and were softened to tears when he was led to execution. His courage, too, was of the noblest kind. Indeed, his self-possession in the face of danger was singular. His brother, Thomas Addis Emmet, shewed the same trait of cha- racter on the day when, defending persons charged with having taken the " United Irishman's" oath, he coolly, in the pre- sence of the whole court, took that oath himself, by which act he so confounded the Bench that they not only abstained from calling him to account, but even passed light sentences on such prisoners as were con\-icted. Counsellor Sampson, another leading "United Irishman." with- out knowing anythmg of Thomas Emmet's act, resorted to similar tactics on another 210 THE LIFE OF DA? lEL O'CONNELL. occasion. Dr. Madden, speaking of Robert Emmet's presence of mind, relates how, late- one night, he took a dose of poison by mistake ; how the conviction that he had done so suddenly flashed across him while ho was trying to solve some mathe- matical problem; how, without giving the slightest alarm, he quietly prepared and took the proper antidote, and then T.a^'ut back to his studies as if nothing Tinusual had occurred. On the day of his execution, an admirable pen-and-ink sketch of himself, done by his own hand — the head represented as severed from the body, with the scaffold, the axe, and all the horrid accompaniments of death by doom of law — ^was found on the table of his prison-cell. The night before, he had slept the calm, sound sleep of con- scious iimocence. On the last fatal morn- ing he knelt and prayed ; called for some aiilk, and drank it; wrote two letters, one to Thomas Addis Emmet, then in America, the other to the Secretaiy of State, inclos- ing that to his brother; and then sent word to the sheriffs that he was ready for the end. He made two requests: the first tliat his arms might be left as loose as possible ; this was at once acceded to. The second request was, of course, re- fused. "I make the other," said he, ''not under any idea that it can bo granted, but that it may be held in remembrance that I have made it: it is that I may be permitted to die in my uniform." Of Emmet's high honour our glorious advo- cate, John Philpot Curran, had the most exalted idea: he once said, — "I would have believed the word of Robert Emmet as soon as the oath of any one I ever knew." The tomb of Emmet still remains uninscribed. May we live to see the longed-for and ever-glorious day when, consistently -with observance of his dying request, a fitting epitaph can be graven upon it! Just one month and a day after the death of Robert Emmet, his friend, the gallaut Thomas Russell, who had been also the bosom friend of Wolfe Tone, gave up his life for Ireland on the scaffold. Born on the 21st of November, 17G7, in the county Cork, the son of an officer in the English army, who had fought against the Irish brigade at Fontenoy, Russell had himself been in the British service. He had served for some years in India. His last commission had been in the 64th Regiment. Tliis he had sold to meet a claim for two hundred pounds, incurred by his having gone bail for a false friend, and which he had no other means of liquidating. Subsequently to this he had been appointed a justice of the peace for the county Tyrone. He had not held this post long. His own words shew us the motives of his withdrawal from the bench: " I cannot reconcile it to my conscience to sit on a bench where the practice exists of inqiiiring what religion a person is before investigating the charge against him.'' After this he had held a situation in the public library of Belfast, and had contributed to the Northern Slar, the organ of the Ulster patriots. He had joined the " United Irishmen," even 'before selling out of the British army. Naturally enough, he had been appointed to the supreme military command of the county Down. His subsequent arrest, however, in September, 1796, and his detention in British prisons (Newgate, Kilmainham, and finally Fort George, Scptland) till 1802, had prevented him from taking the Held with the men of Downshire in '98. The Government had kept him in durance during all those years without trial, with- out even being able to produce evidence against liim, because his military abilities rendered him specially formidable. Throughout his long imprisonment he had remained unshaken in his principles. From Fort George he. had written thus : — '"Providence orders all things for the best. lam sure the people will nei'er abandon the cause; I am equally sure it ivill succeed. I trust men will see that the only ti'ue basis of liberty is morality, and the only stable basis of morality is religion." Ho had entered into Robert Emmet's views and plans witli all the earnestness of his nature — had arrived in Dublin so well disguised that even his family had failed to recognise him; later he had gone to Belfast as " general - in - chief of the northern district." He had failed, how- ever, to rouse the men of the North to action. Belfast had resolved on waiting "to see what the South would do," the South meanwhile waiting for the North to act. Foolery of this sort has more than once dashed to the earth the hopes of Irish patriotism. After his failure in Belfast, Russell had jsroceeded to Antrim, only to meet with similar LlLsappointment. In short, his northern prospects ii.id, one by one, proved illusory; his position had grown desperate; a reward of fifteen CHIGWELL CONVENE WOODFORD BRIDGE, THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 211 hundred pounds had been offered for his apprehension. It was on the 9th of September that Town -Major Sirr had pounced upon Russell — who had come back to Dublin — in his seclusion, and arrested him. On this occasion the ruffian, Sirr, had pre- sumed to seize the patriot rudely by the neckcloth, whereupon the latter, a man of powerful frame, hurling the major aside, and presenting a pistol, had haugh- tily exclaimed, "I will not be treated •with indignity." Russell's friends had next tried to bribe the jailers to set him free: in vain, however. At the time of his capture he had been engaged in plans for the rescue of Robert Emmet. A letter, written by Russell to one of his friends during this his second captivity, contains these noble vrords: — "I mean to make my trial and the last of my life, if it is to close now, as serviceable to the eause of liberty as I can. / trust my countrymen ivill ever adhere to it; I know it will soon prosper. When the country is free, I beg they may lay my remains with my father in a private manner, and pay the few debts I owe. I have only to beg of my countrymen to remember that the cause of liberty is the cause of virtue, which I trust they will never abandon. May God bless and prosper them ! and when power comes into their hands 1 entreat them to use it with moderation. May God and the Saviour bless them all!" In his letter to Henry Joy McCracken's sister, we find these words: " Humanly speak- ing, I expect to be found guilty, and immediately executed. As this may be my last letter, I shall only say that I did my best for my country and mankind. I have no wish to die, but, far from regret- ting its loss in such a cause, had I a thousand lives, I would willingly risk or lose them in it. Be assured, liberty will in the midst of those storms be estab- lished, and God wUl wipe away the tears from all eyes." At his trial in Downpatrick, whither he had been conveyed after liis arrest, he had demeaned himself nobly. "I shall not trouble my lawyers," he had said, ' to make any statemcmt in my case. There are but three possible modes of defence — -firstly, by calling witnesses to prove the innocence of my conduct; secondly, by calling them to impeach the credit of opposite witnesses, or by provmg an allhi. As I can resort to aone of those modes of defence without involving others, I consider myself precluded from any." His final speech, before the pass- ing of sentence, breathes a spirit of mild and chivalrous heroism. After courteous words of thanks to his counsel for their exertions, to " the gentlemen on the part of the Crown " for the indulgence re- ceived by him during his confinement, to the jury even for their patience, to the judges for their politeness to him .during his trial, we find the following elevated sentiments and language: — "As to my political sentiments, I shall, in as brief a manner as possible (for I do not wish to engross the time of the court), say a few words. I look back to the last thirteen years of my life, the period during which I have interfered with the transactions of Ireland, v/ith entu-e satisfaction, though, for my share in them, I am now about to die. * * * It (Ids death) may serve, on the other hand, as a memorial to others, and on trying occasions it may inspire them with courage. I can now say, as far as my judgment enabled me, I acted for the good of my country and the world. -X- * -:;c- y^om the time I could observe and reflect, I perceived that there were two kmds of laws — the laws of the State and the laws of God — freq\iently clasliing with each other: by the latter kind I have always endeavoured to regulate my conduct; but that laws of the former kind do exist in Ireland, I believe no one who hears me can deny. That such laws have existed in former times many and various examples clearly evince. The Saviour of the world suffered by the Roman laws — by the same laws His apostles were put to the torture and deprived of their lives in His cause. By my conduct I do not consider that I have incurred any moral guilt. I have com- mitted no moral evU. I do not want the many and bright examples of those gone before me ; but did I want this encour- agement, the recent example of a youthful hero — a martyr in the cause of liberty — who has just died for his country, would inspire me. / have descended into the vale of manhood. / have learned to estimate the reality and delusions of this world; he was surrounded by everything which could endear this woi"ld to him — - in the bloom of youth, witii fond attach- ments, and with all the fascinating cliarms of health and innocence ; to his death I look back even in this momeiit with rap- 212 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. ture. I have travelled much, and seen various parts of the world, and I think the Irish are the most virtuous nation on the face of the earth : thej'' are a good and brave people ; and had I a thousand lives, I would yield them in their service. If it be the will of God that I suffer for that with which I stand cliarged, I am perfectly resigned to His holy will and dispensation. * * * " Perhaps, as rny voice may now bu considered as a voice crying from the grave, what I now say may have some weight." He then exliorts the aristo- cracy of Ireland " to pay attention to the 23oor," meaning thereby "the labouring class of the community, their tenantry and dependents. I advise them for their good to look into their grievances, to sympathise in their distress, and to spread comfort and happiness around their dweJl- ings. * * * If thej' hold their power, they ■will thus have friends around them; if they will lose it, their fall will be gentle; and I am sure, unless they act thus, they can never be happy. I shall now appeal to the right honourable gentleman in whose hands the lives of the other prisoners are, and entreat that he will rest satisfied Avith my death, and let that atone for those errors into which I may havebeen supposed to have deluded others. I trust the gentleman will restore them to their families and friends. If he shall do so, I can assure him that the breeze which conveys to him the prayers and blessings of their wives and children, will be more grateful than that which may be tainted with the stench of putrid corpses, arded by the potent faction of the Ascendency, and their necessarily inferior influence with those attorneys who had most briefs to give, it is to be remem- bered that, till the year 1829, a Catholic was not eligible for the position of king's counsel. Confined, then, for such a nmnber of years to the outer or junior bar, O'Connell lost many an opportunity of displaying his eloquence as a leading advocate, that would, as a matter of course, have fallen to him had he belonged to the sect favoured by the State. But, 'then, as invariably happens in the history of superior natures, difficulties in his jjath to success and fame only caused him to labour the harder to counteract them. lleuee, too, he would be the more in- clined to confine himself almost wholly to his professional pursuits during the earlier years of his practice. I think, then, that, before I enter fully on the pohtical life of O'Connell, it may be as well to devote a chapter or two to a series of anecdotes and sketches giving a picture of his life as a lawyer. In these chapers I am about to give relating to his bar-life, I do not think it necessary to be very particular in arranging the stories and incidents in their exact order of time, nor do I intend to confine myself rigidly to the earlier years of his career. I shall commence by gi'vdng the cele- brated llichard Lalor ShieFs most m- teresting and -vi-vid sketch of O'Connell as he used to appear when travelling on circuit : — " I had sat down at the imi of the little ■vdllage, and had placed myself in the window. The market was o'^er ; the people had gradually passed to their homes; the busy hum of the day was fast dying away. The sun was sinking, and threw his lingering beams into the neat but ill-fumished apartment where I was sitting. To avoid the glare of his beams I changed my position, and this gave me a more uninterrupted ^^ew of the long street, which threw its termination into the green fields of the country. Casting my eyes in this du-ection, I beheld a chariot-and-four coming toward me, en- veloped in a complete cloud of dust, and the panting horses of which were urged on with tremendous rapidity. Struck with the unexpected arrival of such a vehicle in that place, I leaned out of the window to observe its destination, and beheld it still rolling hurriedly along, and sweeping around the angle of the street toward the inn with increased violence. If my reader has been much used to travelling, he will be aware that the moment a postillion comes in sight of an inn he is sure to call forth the mettle of his horses — perhaps to show off the blood of his cattle. This was the case at present, and a quick gallop brought the vehicle in thundering noise to the door, where Shen- stone says is to be found 'the warmest welcome.' The animals were sharply checked, the door was fiung open, and the occupier hurriedly threw himself out. , "'Bring out fom- horses instantly! was the command he uttered in the loud voice of haste and authority. 228 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O'CONNELL, *' The inmate of the carriage was about five feet eleven and a-half inches high, and wore a jiortly, stout, hale and agree- able appeai-ance. His shoulders were broad and his legs stoutly built ; and as he at that moment stood, one arm in his side pocket, the other thrust into a waist- coat, Avhich was almost completely un- buttoned from the heat of the day, he would have made a good figure for the rapid but fine finishing touch of Harlowe. His head was covered with a light fur cap, which, partly thrown back, displayed that breadth of forehead which I have never yet seen absent from real talent. His eyes appeared to me, at that instant, to be between a light blue and a gray colour. His face was pale and sallow, as if the turmoil of business, the shade of care, or the study of midnight had chased away the glow of health and youth. Around his mouth played a cast of sar- casm, which, to a quick eye, at once betrayed satire ; and it appeared as if the lips could be easily resolved into v/.s-w.v xardonicus (sardonic laugh). His head was somewhat larger than that which a modern doctrine denominates the ' medium size ; ' and it was well supported by a stout and well-foundationed pedestal, which was ■based on a breast full, round, prominent, and capacious. The eye was shaded by a brow which I thought would be more congenial to sunshine than storm, and the nose was neither Grecian nor Roman, but was large enough to readily admit him into the chosen band of that ' immortal rebel'* who chose his body-guard with capacious lungs and noses, as affording greater capability of undergomg toil and hardship. Altogether, he appeared to possess strong physical powers. ••He was dressed in an ohve-brown surtout, black trousers, and black waist- coat. His cravat was carelessly tied — the knot almost iindojie from the heat of the day, and as he.stood with his hand across his bosom, and his eyes bent on the ground, he was the very picture of a public character hurrying away on some important matter, which required all of personal exertion and mental energy. Often as I have seen him since, I have never beheld him in so striking or pictorial an attitude. "•Quick with the horses!' was his hurried ejaculation, as he recovered him- self from his reverie and flung himseK • Cromwell— thus called by Lord Byron. mto his carriage. The whip was cracked, and away went the chariot with the same cloud of dust and the same tremendous pace. " I did not see him pay any money. He did not enter the inn. He called for no refreshment, nor did he utter a word to any person around him ; he seemed to be obeyed by instinct. And while I marked the chariot thundering along the street, which had all its then spectatorB tui-ned on the cloud-enveloped vehicle, my curiosity was intensely excited, and I instantly descended to learn the name of this extraordinary stranger. "Most vKil ai>ropos, however, were my inquiries. Unfortunately, the landlord was out, the waiter could not tell his name, and the hostler ' knew nothing whatsom- dever of him, only he Avas in the most oncommonest hurry.' A short time, how- ever, satisfied my curiosity. The next day brought me to the capital of the county. It was the assize-tune, ^'ery fond of oratoiy, I went to the court-house to hear the forensic eloquence of tlie ' home circuit.' I had scarcely seated myself when the same grayish eye, broad forehead, portly figure, and strong tone of voice arrested my attention. He was just on the moment of addressing the jury, and I anxiously waited to hear the speech of a man who had already so strongly interested me. After looking at the judge steadily for a moment, he began hi^ speech exactly in the following pro- nunciation : — ' My Lurrd — gentlemen of the jury — ' " ' Who speaks? ' instantly whispered I. '• ' Counsellor O'Connell,' was the reply." I have introduced the above extract merely to furnish the reader with a strik- ing picture of O'Connell as he appeared when travelling on cu-cuit. I shall now turn to other pictures from Shiel's sketches, equally life-like and entertaining — pictures of O'Connell in his study and in the courts. "If any of you, my English readers, being a stranger in Dublin, should chance, in your return on a winter's morning from one of the 'small and eaily' parties of that raking metropolis — that is to say, between the hours of five and six o'clock — to pass along the south side of Merrion Square, you will not failto observe that, among those splendid mansions, there is one evidently tenanted by a person whose TUK LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 229 habits differ inaterially from those of his fashionable nei,<;li hours. The half-opened parlour shutter, and the light within, announce that some one dwells there whose time is too precious to permit him to regulate his rising with the sun's. Should your curiosity tempt you to ascend the steps, and, under cover of the dark, to reconnoitre the interior, you will see a tall, able-bodied man standing at a desk, and immersed in solitary occupation. Upon the wall in front of him there hangs a crucifix. From tiiis, and from the calm attitude of the person within, and from a certain monastic rotundity about his neck and shoulders, your first impression will be that he must be some pious dignitary of the Church of Rome absorbed in lijs matin devotions. But this conjecture %vill be rejected almost as soon as formed. No sooner can the eye take in the other fuiniture of the apartment — the bookcases clogged with tomes in plain calfskin bind- ing, and blue-covered octavos that lie about on the floor, the reams of manu- script in oblong folds and begirt with crunson tape — than it becomes evident that the party meditating amidst such objects must be thinking far more of tlie law than of the prophets. " He is unequivocally a barrister, but apparently of that homely, chamber- keeping, plodding caste who labour hard to make up by assiduity what they want in wit — -who are up and sthring before the bird of the morning has sounded the retreat to the wandering spectre, and are already brain-deep in the dizzying vortex of mortgages, and cross-remainders, and mergers, and remitters, while his clients, still lapped in sweet oblivion of the la,w's delay, are fondly dreaming that their cause is peremptorily set down for a final hear- ing. Having come to this conclusion, you push on for home, blessing your stars on the way that you are not a lawyer, and sincerely compassionating the sedentary drudge whom you have just detected in the performance of his cheer- less toil. But should you happen, in tiie course of the same day, to stroll down to the Four Courts, you will be not a little surprised to find the object of your pity miraculously transformed from the severe recluse of the morning into one of the inost bustling, important, and joyous personages in that busy scene. There you will be sure to see him, his counte- nance braced up and glistenmg with health and spmts, with a huge plethoric bag, which his robust arms can scarcely contain, clasped with paternal fondness ta his breast, and environed by a living palisade of clients and attorneys, with outstretched necks and mouths and ears agape to catch up any chance opinion that may be coaxed out of him in a col- loquial way, or listening to what the client relishes still bettei' — for in no event can they be slided to a bill of costs — the counsellor's bursts of jovial and familiar Immour; or, when he touches on a sadder strain, his prophetic assurances that the hour of Ireland's redemption is at hand. You perceive at once that you have lighted upon a great popular advocate; and, if you take the trouble to follow his movements for a couple of hours through the several courts, you will not fail to discover the qualities that have made him so — his legal competency, his business-like habits, his sanguine tem- perament, which renders him not merely the advocate, but the partisan of his client — his acuteness, his fluency of thought and language, his unconquerable good humour, and, above all, his versa- tility. By the hour of three, when the judges usually rise, you will have seen him go through a quantity of business, the preparation for and performance of which would be sufficient to wear down an ordinary c onstitution ; and you naturally suppose that the remaining portion of the day must of necessity be devoted to re- creation or repose. But here again you will be mistaken ; for should you feel dis- posed, as you return from the courts, to drop into any of the public meetings that are almost daily held — for some purpose, or tc no purpose — in JJublin, to a cer- tainty you will find the counsellor there before you, the presiding spirit of the scene, riding on the whirlwind, and direct- ing the storm of popular debate with a strength of lungs and a redundancy of animation, as if lie had that moment started fresh for the labours of the day. There he remains until, by dint of strength or dexterity, he has carried every point; and from thence, if you would see him to the close of the day's eventful history, you will, in all likehhood, have to follow him to a public dinner, from which, after having acted a conspicuous part in the turbulent festivity of the evening, and thrown off haU'-a-dozen speeches in praise of Ireland, he retires at a late hour to 230 THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. repair the wear and tear of the day by a short interval of repose, and is sure to be found before da-vvn -break next morning at his solitary post, recommencing the routine of his restless existence. Now, any one who has once seen in the preced- ingsituation the able-bodied, able-minded, acting, talking, multifarious person 1 have been just describmg, has no occasion to inquire his name — he may be assurred that he is and can be no other than ' Kerry's pride and Munster's glory.' the far-famed and indefatigable Daniel O'Connell. His frame is tall, expanded, and inuscular — preciselysuch as befits a man of the people ; for the physical classes ever look with dovible confidence and affection upon a leader who represents in his own person the qualities upon Avhich they rely. In his face he has been equally fortunate — it is extremely comely. The features are at once soft and manly ; the florid glow of health and a sanguine temperament are diffused over the v/hole countenance, which is national in the outline, and beam- ing with national emotion ; the expression is open and confiding, and inviting con- fidence ; there is not a trace of malignity or wile — if there were, the bright and sweet blue eyes, the most kindly and honest-looking that can be conceived, would repel the imputation. These popu- lar gifts of nature O'Connell has not neglected to set off by his external car- riage and deportment — or, perhaps, I should rather saj, that tlie same hand which has moulded the exterior has super- saturated the inner man with a fund of restless propensity, which it is quite be- yond his power, as it is certainly beside his inclination, to control. A large por- tion of this is necessariljr expended upon his legal avocations ; but the labours of the most laborious of professions caiinot tame him to repose ; after deducting the daily drains of the study and the courts, there remains an ample residuum of ani- mal spirits and ardour for occupation, which go to form a distinct, and, 1 might say, a predominant character — the poli- tical chieftain. The existence of this overweening vivacity is consj^icuous in O'Connell's manners and movements; and being a popular, and more particularly a national quality, greatly recommends him to the Irish people — mobiiUate viget (he fiourishes by activity of movement) ; body and soul are in a state of permanent in- surrection. See him in the streets, and you perceive at once that he is a man who has sworn that his country's wrongs shall be avenged. A Dublin jury (if judiciously selected) would find his very gait and gestures to be high treason by construc- tion, so explicitly do they enforce the national sentiment of ' Ireland her own, or the world in a blaze !' As he marches to court, he shoulders his umbrella as if it were a pike. He flings out one factious foot before the other, as if he had already burst his bonds, and was kicking the Pro- testant Ascendency before him ;• whila ever and anon a democratic, broad- shouldered roll of the upper man is mani- festly an indignant effort to shuffle off the oppression of seven hundred years This intensely national sensibility is the pre- vailing peculiaritj' in O'Connell's character; for it is not only when abroad and in the popular gaze that Irish affairs seem to press upon his heart — the same Erin-go- bragh feeling follows him into the most technical details of his forensic occupa- tions. Give him the most dry and ab- stract position of law to support, the most remote that imagination can conceive from the violation of the Irish Parliament, and ten to one but he will contrive to inter- weave a patriotic episode upon those examples of British domination. The people are never absent from his thoughts. He tosses up a bill of exceptions to a judge's charge in the name of Ireland, and pockets a special reta.iiier with the air of a man that doats upon his country. There is, perhaps, some share of exag- geration in all this, but much less, I do believe, than is generally suspected : and I apprehend that he would scarcely pass for a patriot without it; for, in fact, he has been so successful, and looks so con- tented, and his elastic, unbroken spirits are so disposed to bound and frisk for veiy joy — in a word, he has naturally so bad a face for a grievance, that his poli- tical sincerity might appear equivocal, were there not some clouds of patriotic grief or indignation to temper the sun- shine that is for ever bm-sting through them." Travelling with Mr. Daunt in the county Limerick, O'Connell came in sight of the seat of the fii'st Lord Guil- lamore, better known as Chief- Baron O'Grady. It was he who, as attorney- general, in 1803, had prosecuted Emmet. His speech, however, on that occasion was by no means intemperate. The THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 231 sight of Cahir-Guillamore (so his place was named) called forth some of O'Con- nell's reminiscences of the old chief- baron. He told Mr Damit how, in 1813, some person having remarked to O'Grady that Lord Castlereagh, by his ministerial management, "had made a great cha- racter for himself," "Has he?" said O'Grady. "Faith, if he has, he's just the b ^y to spend it like a gentleman ! " "O'Grady," continued "the Liber- ator," " was on one occasion annoyed at the disorderly noise in the court-house at Tralee. He bore it quietly for some time, expecting that Denny (the high- sheriff) would interfere to restore order. Finding, however, that Denny, who was reading in his box, took no notice of the riot, O'Grady rose from the bench, and called out to the studious high-sheriff, ' Mr. Denny, I just got np to hint that I 'm afraid the noise in the court will prevent you from reading your novel in quiet ! ' "After O'Grady had retired from the bench, some person placed a large stuffed owl on the sofa beside him. The bird was of enormous size, and had been brought as a great curiosity from the tropics. O'Grady looked at the owl for a moment, and then said, with a gesture of peevish impatience, ' Take away that owl ! take away that owl ! If you don't, I shall fancy I am seated again on the Exchequer Bench beside Baron Foster!' "Those who have seen Baron Foster on the bench can best appreciate the felicitous resemblance traced by his venerable brother- judge between his lordship and an old stuffed owl. " I remember," said O'Connell, con- tinuing his anecdotes, " a witness who was called on to give evidence to the excellent character borne by a man whom O'Grady was trying on a charge of cow-stealing. The witness got on the table with the confident air of a fellow who had a right good opinion of himself. He played a small trick, too, that amused me: He had but one glove, which he used sometimes to put on his right hand, keeping the left in his pocket ; and again, when he thought he was not watched, he would put it on his left hand, slipping the right into his pocket. ' Well,' said O'Grady to this genius, ' do you know the prisoner at the bar?' " ' I do, right well, my lord.' " ' And what is his general cliaracter?' "'As honest, dacent, well-conducted a man, my lord, as any in Ireland, which all the neighbours know, only — only — there was something about stealing a cow.' "'Tlie very thing the prisoner is accused of!' cried O'Grady, interrupting the ' witness to character.' " O'Grady," added O'Connell, "had no propensity for hanging people. He gave fair play to men on trial for their lives, and was, upon the v/hole," a very safe judge." The following incident is characteristic of the over-convivial and occasionally up- roarious manners that prevailed among the Irish country gentlemen dui-ing the earlier portion of the present century. We have already seen "Cousin Kane's" addiction to the bottle, and, farther on, I sliall have to give other illustrations of the rollicking habits of our forefathers. This Standish O'Grady asked O'Con- nell to go to the theatre with him one evening, during the Limerick assizes, in 1812. O'Comiell excused himself from going, observing that the Limerick grand- jurors were not the most agreeable people in the world to meet after dinner O'Grady went, but very soon came back agam. " Dan," said he, " you were quite right. I had not been five mmutes in the box when some ten or a dozen noisy gentlemen came into it. It was small and crowded; and as I observed that one of the party had his head quite close to a peg on which I had hung my hat, I said, very politely — " ' I hope, sir, my hat does not incom- mode you ; if it does, pray allow me to remove it!' " ' Faith,' said he, 'you may be sure it doesn't incommode me! for if it did, d — n me, but I 'd have kicked it out of the box, and yourself after it! ' "So, lest the worthy juror should change his mind as to the necessity of such a vigorous measure, I quietly put my hat o«, and took myself ojffy One of O'Connell's conversations with Mr. Daunt turned upon "legal practice in general, and the ingenious dexterities of roguish attorneys in particular. O'Connell said: "The cleverest rogue in the profession, that ever I heard of, was one Checkley, familiarly known by the name of ' Checkley-be-d — d.' Check- ley was agent once at the Cork assizes, THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. for a fellow accused of burglary and aggravated assaiilt, committed at Bantry. The noted Jerry Keller was counsel for tlie prisoner, against whom the charge ■was made out by the clearest circumstau- tiiil evidence — so clearly that it seemed quite impossible to doubt his guilt. "When the case for the prosecution closed, the judge asked if there were any witnesses for the defence. •' 'Yes. my lord,' said Jerry Keller, ' I have three briefed to me.' " 'Call them,' said the judge. " Checkle^^ immediately bustled out of court, and returned at once, leading in a very resj^ectable-looking farmer-like man, with a blue coat and gilt buttons. scratch wig, corduroy tights, and gaiters. ' ' - This is a witness to character, my lord,' said ('heckley. " Jerry Keller (the counsel) forthwith began to examine the witness. After asking his name and residence. — •' You know the prisoner in the dock?' said Keller. " 'Yes, your honour, ever since he was a gorsoon ! ' " 'And what is his general character?' said Keller. ' Och, the devil a worse ! ' " 'Why, what sort of a witness is this you "ve brought?' cried Keller, passion- ately flinging dowai his brief and looking furiously at Checkley — ' he has ruined us!' " 'He may prove an alibi, however,' returned Checkley ; ' examine him to alibi, as instructed in your brief.' " Keller accordingly resumed his ex- amination : — ' Where was the prisoner on the 10th instant?' said he. " -He was near Castlemartyr,' answered the witness. ' ' • Are you sure of that? ' ' Quite sure, comisellor.' ' How do you know with such certainty?' " -Because upon that very night I was returning from the fair, and when I got near my own house I saw the prisoner a little way on before me — I 'd swear to him aiipvhere. He was dodging about, and I knew it could be for no good end ; so I slipped into the field, and turned off my horse . to grass ; and, while I was watching the lad from behind the ditch, I saw him pop across the wall into my garden, and steal a lot of parsnips and carrots ; and, what I thought a great dale worse of, lie stole a brand-new English epade tliat I got from my landlord, Lord Shannon. So, faix, I cut away after him; but as I was tired from the day's labour, and he being fresh and nimble, I wasn't able to ketch him. But next day my spade was seen surely in his house — and that's the same rogue in the dock! I wish I had a hoult of him.' " -It is quite evident,' said the judge, ' that we must acquit the prisoner. The witness has clearly established an alibi for him. Castlemai'tyr is neai'ly sixty miles from Bantry; and lie certainly is anything but a partisan of his. Pray, friend,' addressing the witness, 'will you swear informations agahist the prisoner for his robbery of your property?' '• -Troth I will, my lord! with all the pleasure in life, if your lordship thinks I can get any satisfaction out of him. I 'm tould I can for the spade, but not for the carrots and parsnips.' '• ' Go to the Cro\vn office and swear informations,' said the judge. '• The prisoner was of course dis- charged, the alibi having clearly been established. In an hour's time some inquiry was made as to whether Checkley's rural witness had sworn informations in the Crown ofiice. That gentleman was not to be heard of : the prisoner also had vanished immediatelj^ on being discharged, and of course resumed his malpractices forthwith. It needs hardly be told that Lord Shannon's soi-disaid (seJf-styled) tenant dealt a little in fiction, and that the whole story of his farm from that nobleman, and of the prisoner's thefts of the spade and the vegetables, was a plea- sant device of Mr. Checkley's. I told this story," added O'Connell, " to a coterie of English barristers Avith whom I diwed, and it was most diverting to witness their astonishment at Mr. Checkley's unprin- cipled ingenuity. Stephen Rice, the assistant barrister, had so high an admira- tion of this clever rogue that he declared he would readily walk fifty miles to see Checkley," This Jeriy Keller, the barrister who cross-examined Checkley's witness, was an extraordinary character in his day. He had been a member of that jovial and witty fraternity called " The Plonks of the Screw," of which Curran, Yelverton. and so many other clever lawyers and politicians of the brilliant pre-union days had been " shining lights." When Yelverton. became Chief-baron and Lord Avonmore, it was "a good time " for his THE LIFE OF DANIEL O'cONNELL. 233 old boon-companion Jerry, who gained complete possession of his ear. The brief -bag was plethoric with briefs. But Avonmorc died, and then came a dismal change in his affairs. The lawyer's bag suddenly collapsed. He compensated himself, however, for his pecuniary reverses by an increased indulgence of his talent for satire. He was constantly to be seen standing in the hall of the Four Courts, with his hands oddly thrust into the sleeves of his coat (something like Dickens's Merdle taking himself into custody), surrounded by a crowd of laughers at his sarcastic pleasantry. His acute features, especially his cold, pierc- ing eyes, gleamed v/ith malicious delight at the success with which his shafts of irony went straight home to the mark. His dry cachinnations, when some pecu- liarly envenomed sneer received its meed of applause, were in themselves a high.ly comical treat to the loungers around him. Jeriy was the father of the Munster bar, and his poignant wit made him a most enlivening president of the bar- mess. Refeixing to his own decayed fortunes, he made a very amusing, albeit caustic, speech to the ponderous, solemn, but stolid Judge Mayne, on the day when that outwardly-seeming oracle of legal wisdom first took his seat on the bench. Stretching over toward the newly-elevated functionaiy, he said, — " Well, Mayne, there you are ! You have been floated into port by your gravity, and I have been sunk and shipwrecked by my levity ! " It was a delightfully ludicrous piece of burlesque when this pompous judge, on one occasion, rose with his usual mock majesty, and, in tones intended to inspire awe. cried out to some absent-minded individual, who had forgotten to take off his hat on entering the court, " I see you standing there like a wild beast with your hat on." At a later period, it was jocu- larly said, when Judge Mayne, residing in Paris for the benefit of his health, used to walk in the gardens of the Tuileries, that he was constantly taken by the Parisians for the spectre of Trois Echelles, the ghastly, grave-visaged executioner in Sir 'Walter Scott'fi Queiithi Duncard. When Jerry Keller's friend Yelverton got his peerage, he read his patent of vis- count to Jerry, Curran, and Bully Egan, professing to desire their opinions as to whether it were all right. The patent began in the usual form — " George, etc., etc., king of the United Kingdom, etc." When the newly-made lord had read to the end, he paused for the opinions of his three friends. •' It is faulty," cried Keller, without a moment's hesitation. Yelverton, who was passionate, at onco exclaimed, in angry tones, " Where is the fault? I can see none." Finding him- self, however, sustained by the opinions of Curran and Egan, he forgot his wrath in an instant, and said, in a highly-elated tone, "There, Keller! what say you now '? " Bidding him read the patent a second time, Keller stopped him as soon as he had read the words, " George, etc., king of the United — " -Hold!" says Keller, slyly hitting at the fact that the title of Avonmox-e was the price of Yel'/erton's pro-union vote; " does not the considera- tion come too soon?" The whole four laughed heartily ; and Jerry's satire did not prevent them from dining and drink- ing jovially together that evening. In Mr. Daunt's Personal Recollections we find O'Connell relating the following additional anecdotes of the redoubtable Jeremiah. "Jerry," said O'Connell, "was an instance of great waste of talent. He was the son of a poor farmer near Kanturk, named Keleher, which name Jerry angli- cised into Keller, when he went to the bar. He was an excellent classical scholar, and had very considerable natural capacity ; but, although he had a good deal of business at the bar, his success was far from being what he might have attained, had he given his whole soul to his profession. His readiness of retort was great. At a Cork county election, at which Colonel Tonson (the fruit of aa adulterous intercourse) was candidate, Jerry was trying to break do^vn one of the colonel's voters by a long cross- examination. In those days voters were liable to cross-examinations, like witnesses at Nisi Prius. Colonel Tonson saw mat- ters were going hard with his voter, and thinking to check, and at the same time to mortify Jei'ry, he called out to him : • I say, Mr. Keller, or Keleher, or what- ever the devil they call you, let that voter alone ! ' " ' CaUme anything you please, colonel,' retorted Jerry, lookmg meekly up, 'p)-o- vided you don''t call me the son of a iv .''. " Baron Smith once tried to annoy liim 234 -BHE ilFE OF DANIEL o'CONNELL, on his cliano-e of name, at a bar-dinner. They Ayere talking of the Irish language. " ' Your Irish name, Mr. Keller, said the baron, 'is Dianniddh-na-Cealleacliair (Dermid or Jeremiah 0' Keleher).'' " ' It is,' answered Jerry, nothing daunted; "and yours is Lliamh (liand) goiv (or gahJia, meaning sinith).^ There was a great laugh at the baron's expense — a sort of thing that nobody liked less." (The baron's Christian name was William. Keller seems to have punned in Irish on his name.) " Another time," continued O'Connell, " when the bar were dining together on a Friday, a blustering young barrister, named Norcott, of great pretension, with but slender materials to support it, ob- served that Jerry was eating fish instead of meat. Norcott, by way of jeering Keller (who had originally been a Catho- lic), said to him, ' So you won't eat meat? Why, I did not think, Jerry, you had so much of the Pope in your belly ! ' " ' I wouldn't have as much of the Pre- tender in my head as you have,' answered Jerry, ' for all the meat in the market.' " There was a barrister of the name of Parsons at the bar in my earlier practice," continues O'Connell, " who had a good deal of Jerry Keller's humour. Parsons hated the whole tribe of attorneys — per- haps they had not treated him very well — but his prejudice against them was eternally exhibiting itself. One day, in the hall of the Four Courts, an attorney came up to him to beg his subscription towards burying a brother attorney who had died in distressed circumstances. Parsons took out a pound note. " ' Oh, Mr. Parsons,' said the applicant, ' I do not want so much ; I only ask a shilling from each contributor.' ." 'Oh, take it, take it,' replied Parsons, ' I wovild most willingly subscribe money any day to put any attorney under ground ! ' " 'But, really, Mr- Parsons, I have limited myself to a shilling from each person.' " 'For pity's sake, my good sir, take the pound, and bury tioenty of them!' " One of the most curious thmgs I remember in my bar experience is Judge Foster's charging for the acquittal of a homicide, named Denis Halligan, who was tried with four others at the Limerick Jissizes, many years ago. Foster totally mistook the evidence of the principal witness for the prosecution. The offence charged was aggravated manslaughter, committed on some poor wretch whose name I forget. The first four prisoners were shewn to have been criminally abetting; but the fifth, Denis Halligan, was proved to have inflicted the fatal blow. The evidence of the principal witness against him was given in these words: — "I saw Denis lialligan, my lord — he that 's in the dock there — take a vacancy ' {i. e., ' take a siiY at him ' at the poor sowl that's kilt, and give him a wipe with a cleli alpeen (a bludtjeon), and lay him down as quiet as a chUd.' The judge charged against the first four prisoners, and sentenced them to seven years imprisonment each ; then proceed- ing to the fifth prisoner — the rascal who really committed the homicide — he ad- dressed him thus: — 'Denis Halligan, I have purposely reserved the con- sideration of your case for the last. Your crime, as being a participator in the afi^ray, is doubtless of a very serious nature; yet I cannot avoid taking "into consideration the mitigating circum- stances that attend it. By the evidence of the witness it clearly appears that you were the only man of the party who shewed any mercy to the unfortunate deceased ; you took him to a vacant seat, and you wiped him with a clean napkin. and (to use the affecting and poetical language of the witness) you laid him down with the gentleness one shews to a little child. In consideration of these circumstances, which considerably miti- gate your offence, the only punishment I shall inflict upon you is an imprison- ment of three weeks' duration.' So Denis Halhgan got off, from Foster's mistaking a vacancy and a cleh alpeen for a vacant seat and a clean napkin.'''' The subsequent fortunes and fate of -Counsellor Norcott, alluded to by "the Liberator" in the foregoing bar- recollections, were more singular and calamitous than any chapter of m dividual disaster to be found in the most sensa- tional of "sensational romances." In- deed, the catastrophe of his life-romance out-Herods the most startling things in the writings of "N^^ilkie Collins or his fair rival. Miss Braddon. In his earlier career, beuag sufficiently pohshed and gay, Norcott was long a favourite in the highest circles of Dublin society — at the Castle no less than in private houses. THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. 235 At length he began to lose large sums at play. Still, he appeared as healthy, as lively, as much at his ease as ever. A time came, however, when runiour hinted that his affairs were involved in inextricable confusion, and finally the fatal crash took place. He had to fly his country to escape from his creditors; but his friend and fellow-couutryman, the celebrated John Wilson Crokor, promised to provide what seemed to offer him a secure retreat, or even the means of restoring his exhausted fortunes, in the shape of a lucrative post in the island of Malta. For some time his friends looked forward to the day wnen they should welcome him back to Dublin society, with his finances thoroughly recruited, and in possession of all his old social gifts and attrac- tions. But soon the extraordinary news came that he had left Malta, that he had gone to Constantinople — in a word, that he had become a renegade. And, in point of fact, there he was in the imperial city of the Moslem, a fiUl- bloT\Ta " turban'd Turk." For a while he flourished gaudily, having had some money when leaving Malta. People even thought he was on the road to high favour vidth the divan. But he ceased *'to cut a figure" as soon as his purse grew empty. Gradually he sunk to the lowest state of want and misery. Woeful letters reached Dublin, giving piteous details of his wretched condition. It ■was at this lowest stage of his downward fortunes that a traveller from Ireland, wandering amid the cypress groves of a cemetery on the Asiatic side of the Bosphorus, found him one evening lean- ing, with a hopeless dejected air, his back against a marble sepulchre. The appear- ance of the woe-begone wretch, clad in ragged white, with a tattered turban on his head, attracted the traveller from the first, for the poor outcast had still some- thing of the Frank in his appearance. He noAv drew near the traveller and uttered some words in English. "Gracious God! can it be?" exclaimed the astonished traveller. "Alas!" said the hope-abandoned outcast, hiding his face Avith his hands, "it is too true — I am Mr. Norcott of the Irish bar." The termination of this lost, unhappy man's history was tragical in, the extreme. After roaming for some time longer about the streets of Constantinople, in his nakedness and utter destitution, seeking in every corner a sorry relief, he resolved on returning within the Christian fold. He dreamed of again making a livelihood in some of the countries of Christendom. He planned an escape from the city of the Sultan, some friends supplying him with the necessary funds. Being pur- sued, however, he had not gone far from Constantinople when he was captured and decapitated. His body was flung into the sea. Such were the strange life-vicissitudes and terrible end of the once fashionable and courted Counsellor Norcott! I have already given an instance of the odd gratitude of a client for whom O'ConneU had contrived by great in- genuity to win an acquittal. It will be remembered how, in the ecstasy of his delight at his lucky escape from the clutches of the law, the fellow Avished to see O'Connell " knocked down in his own parish,'''' that he might bring a faction to rescue him ! Among the recollections that I am now about to give, the reader will hear liov/ other instances of our hero's ingenuity drew forth ebullitions of gratitude still more whimsical. A ragged stroller recognised "the Liberator " at some place where he and jNIr. Daunt stopped for a few moments, on one of their repeal tours. He begged O'Connell to give him a little money, backing his petition with a plea of personal acquaintance. "I don't know you at all, my good man," said O'Connell; "I never saw you before." " That's not what your honom-'s son would say to me," returned the man " out at elbows," " for he got me a good place at Glasnevin cemetery, only I hadn't the luck to keep it." "Then, indeed, you were strangely unlucky," rejoined Dan ; " for those Avho have places in cemeteries generally keep them." I'agan, in his Life of 0''ConnelU tells a very humorous story of a pious and gratefid higlnvayman, to whom O'Con- nell's was a very valuable life indeed. The substance of the story is as follows : — O'Connell Avas engaged to defend this Avorthy for a robbery committed on the public road not very far from the city of Cork. By his clever cross-examination of the witnesses, and twisting of the evi- 236 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CORNELL. dence, our hero compelled Dame Justice to loose her grasp and let slip his client. The thief at once resumed his former "industrial occupation," to borrow a phrase from old Captain Gambier — that very wooden-headed director of English convict-prisons, whose acquaintance I have to thank her Britannic Majesty's Government for having been enabled to make. Accordingly, the following year, on entering the court-house in Cork, O'Connell meets once more the unabashed gaze of the same determined delinquent. This time the charge is burglary, com- plicated with an aggravated assault that didn't stop very short of murder. The ruthan again had Dan for his counsel; and again witnesses, adverse counsel, judge and jury were puzzled and con- founded, law was hopelessly entangled, and the scoundrel sent back to seek excitement and pocket-money at the ex- pense of his comitrjnnen. His energies did not remain long idle. He stole a collier-brig, sold off the cargo, bought arms, and cruised along the coast, "seek- ing whom" (or i-ather what booty) "he might devour." A third time he stands in the dock of the Cork court-house — on this occasion for piracy, no less. A third time our wile-famed advocate defends the freebooter. O'Connell contents himself with simply shewing that the crime did not come under the cognisance of the court. It had been committed on the high seas: it could only come under the cognisance of the Admiralty Court. Is it any wonder that the rescued rascal be- came this time dcvotionally enthusiastic in the utterance of his gratitude? " Oh ! " exclaimed the lucky thief, piously lifting hands and eyes to heaven, "oh! may the Lord in his mercy spare your honour to me! "What would become of me if any- thing happened to you ? " I shall now give the reader a singular instance of O'Connell's almost intuitive penetration and quickness in getting at the bottom of a witness's mind. He was retained on the plaintiff's side in a will case. His clients alleged that the docu- ment in question was a forgery. The witnesses to the will, on the other hand, swore that it had been signed by the hand of the testator, now deceased, whUe " life was in liim." This, it appears, is a form of phraseology imported from the Irish into the English language, and common among the Irish peasantry, even in tliose districts where the ancient language has died out. The evidence had gone almost entirely in favour of the validity of the will and the success of the defendants, when O'Connell stood up to cross-exa- mine one of their witnesses. He was soon struck with the odd persistency with which this witness, in answering his questions, unvaryingly clung to the phrase, "the life was in him." The truth flashed across O'Connell's mind. " On the virtue of your oath, was the man alive ? " " By the virtue of my oath, the life was in him,''' replied the witness, resorting to his favourite phrase once more. " Now, I call on you in the presence of your Maker, who will one day pass sen- tence on you for this evidence : I solemnly ask- — and answer me at your peril — was there not a live fly in the dead man's mouth when his hand was placed on the will ? " Tlie terror-struck perjurer in an instant grew pale and trembled; he looked like one suddenly smitten with palsy. Com- pletely cowed, in stammering accents he confessed that O'Connell had hit upon the truth. A live fly had been placed iu the dead man's mouth, that the witnesses might be able to swear that "life was in him." (See Fagan's Life of O'Connell.) This was one of those sudden flashes of intuition which are seldom witnessed save in the lives of men of the highest order of intellect. Analogous inspira- tions of talent or genius ever and anon occur to the minds of the topmast men in all the practical professions. Thus, Dupuytren darts his lance into the brain of the man despaired of by less daring surgeons, and relieves the abscess. Thus the great Napoleon, acting on a sudden impulse, orders the Sommo -Sierra Pass to be cleared by a cliarge of Polish lancers, and lo ! in the twinkling of an eye it is done. Such quick and decisive results can never be achieved by your mere plodding men of humdriun routine. I shall here borrow a long passage from Fagan's Life of (fConneU, as afford- ing further illustrations, of the most striking kind, of the rapidity of concep- tion and prpmptitude of action so fre- quently displayed by O'Connell during his conflicts in the forensic arena : — " We may here," says Fagan, " be permitted to give an anecdote to exem- plify O'Connell's rapidity of conception, THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 237 his knowledge of law, and the tact with which he made even his broad humour tell for his client's advantage. In a case at a Cork assizes, in which he was counsel on the same side with many of the most eminent men who attended circuit, he was absent in one court while some points of great importance were undergoing dis- cussion in the other. His fellow-bar- risters were able lawj^ers, but they were severely pressed by the opposing counsel, and an uirfavourable issue was threatened. The judge was about to declare a verdict; comisel were in the last extremity, and their only hope rested on O'Connell. He had been sent for once or twice ; but he was then addressing a jury in behalf of a prisoner on trial for his life. He was disengaged in the nick of time ; his learned and able friends were in the last stage of despair, when he entered the record court in an apparently indif- ferent and inattentive manner, gayly jesting as he passed iu with individuals he knew. He could not, we believe, have previously known much, if anything, of the case he was hastily called to argue ; but he caught, as he proceeded to his seat, the upshot of what counsel was driving at. Drawing the cord of his ample bag, he extracted quickly from its depths the particular brief he wanted, and, glancing through a sheet or two in the most superficial manner, he rose to address the court. In a few bi-ief sen- tences he cleared away the difficulties by which his fellow- counsel were embar- rassed. In a few more he turned the tables on the opposite party, and in one of the shortest speeches he, or any other lawyer, was ever known to make in a case of similar importance, he banished all idea of a nonsuit from the judge's mind, and succeeded in winning him over decisively in favour of his client. He disposed summarily of the main difficulty. He extricated his learned brethren from the slough, and, informing the court that the remainder of the argument would be carried on by one or other of the junior barristers, he consigned his brief to its former place, closed his bag, and returned to the court whence he was summoned. The case was won. ' He found,' said oiu" informant, ' the able men with whom he acted sprawling like a parcel of children ; and it was he only who set them on their legs.' The incident is but another illus- tration of his commanding powers as a lawyer, and the facility and readiness with which he could apply the acquisitions of a practical, sagacious, and extraordinary intellect. " It is stated, in an article in the Edin- hurgh Review, that Lord Brougham was intended to lead a libel case, but imme- diately before the trial it was discovered that the other counsel, a mere special pleader, was his senior, and the mistake proved irremediable. It was thus, I may remark, that the supercession of Sir Arthur Wellesley. after the battle of Vimiera, in 1808, by two senior, but far less competent officers, arrested the course and blighted the fruits of that victory. On an occurrence, however, in this city, not dissimilar to that of Lord Brougham, Mr. OX'onnell, with instant happiness of thought, applied the remedy which had evaded the learned peer's sagacity. En- gaged in a case, the success of which mainly depended on his examination of the most material witness — a department of the pi'ofession in which he had no superior — lie found to his surprise, on entering the court, that his destined sta- tion and consequent task were occupied by another — the client having, without communication, and wholly unconscious of the etiquette of th'e bar or its conse- quences in this instance to himself, privately retained an old friend of more moral than intellectual merit, but Mr. O'Connell's senior. The law-agent, Mr. Denham Franklin of Cork, my informant of all the particulars, naturally dissatisfied witli this act of his employer, and fearful of the issue in such hands, was about to abandon the cause, when Mr. O'Connell, chiding him for his despondency, directed him to ascertain the name of a gaping clown whom his searching eye had espied in the crowd. The individual was imme- diately called up, and, to his astonishment, presented as first evidence, by the in- structed attorney, for examination to the intrusive counsel, but was dismissed as totally incapable of a pertinent answer. Thus, however, the desired end was at- tained, and the leader, his part being accomplished, stood no longer in the way of Mr. O'Connell, who succeeded him, and failed not to achieve the expected result."* * The books to which I am indebted for the materials of the foregoing chapter are— Shiei's Sketches of the Irish Bar ; Barrington's Personal Hkehhes ; O'Neill Daunt's Personal Recollections of u'Conneil ; Fagan'8 life of Daniel O'Connell; Life and Times of O'Connell, L>ubliii, John MuUany, 1 Farliameat Street, &c. 238 THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. CHAPTER IX. Lady Morgan's Slcetch of O'Connel' — More of O'Con- nell's Bar Anecdotes and other Keminisoences— Value of an Ugly Nose — A Lesson in Cow-Stealing — Unpremeditated Oratory — O'Connell on the Scotch and English Jui-y-Systems and Capital Punishment. cSc. — Queer Anecdote of Sir Jonah Barrington; the Pa\vnbroker Outwitted — Escape of a Robber — An Orangeman who always liked to Ilave O'Connell as his Counsel — Odd Story of a Physician — Anecdotes < if Judges Boyd and Lef roy ; O'Connell Saves the Life of a Client— lie Defies Baron M'Cleland — A Judge Sternly Reproved — Anecdotes about Judge Day and Bully Egan — O'Connell Humbugs Judge Day— His Opinion on the Subject of Judges' Wigs — Dan Overhauls a Client's Accounts to the Great Advantage of the Latter— He Receives a Challenge from an Angry Litigant^-A High-Sheriffs Providential Thickness of Skull— O'Connell Sitting for his Portrait — Kerry Dexterity; a Smart Newsboy — Blake's Duel — Breach of Promise Case; Miss Fitzgerald versus Parson Hawkesworth — Grose the Antiquary— Dulve O'Neills Will— A Witty Epigram of Hu-sey Burgh on the Ladies of the btratfori Family; Aristocratic Female ShopUfters— Further Instances of O'Connell's Legal Acuteness — Cases of Mr. Justice Johnson and Mr. Justice Fox— JIanners and Customs in Ireland at the End of the Eighteenth and Commencement of the Nineteenth Cent'Ty — The Irish Character— "King" Bagenal— Election Duels — "Tiger" Roche — Wild Conviviality — Ca- tholic Lords — Officers of the "Irish Brigade" — Prodigality and Corruption— Titled Tricksters — One Coffin for a Company— Military P.atronage — A True Gentleman — Dr. Beaumont on our Aristo- cracy—Dan and Biddy Moriarty — A Combative Attorney. As I began the last chapter with a sketch of O'Connell from* the graphic pen of that distinguished Irish orator and col- league of his in the Catholic Association, Richard Lalor Shiel, so I shall commence the present one "with a sketch from an- other Irish writer, perhaps equally lively, the once popular and celebrated Lady Morgan. "Bacon, Shakespeare, Milton — all who have enlightened and benefited the world — have been no less remarkable for their labour than for their genius. Physical activity may exist without mind, but the man of talent cannot be idle even though he desire it; he is mastered by his moral energy, and pushed into activity whether he will or not. Vitality or aU-aliveness, energy, activity, are the great elements of what we call talents. * * * There is O'Connell — the head and front of aU agitation, moral, political, social, and legal. When we read in the papers those eloquent and powerful speeches in which the spectres of Ireland's oppression are called up from the depths of history, with a perfect knowledge of all that has con- cerned the country from its earliest re- cords, and in which unnumbered modern instances of misrule, in aU its shades of ignorance and venality, are collected from the storehouse of his capacious memory — those speeches in which, amidst the fiery explosions of long-nurtured indignation (the petulant outpourings of constitu- tional impatience), arguments of logical conviction, apd facts of curious detail come forth as from an exhaustless foun- tain — who but would suppose that the life of the patriot, demagogue, and agitator was occupied exclusively in one great and absorbing cause? It, is, however, on his way home from the courts, and after legal labours that have occupied him from the dawn of light, that he turns into the Catholic Committee; it is after having" set a jury-box in a roar by his humour, made butchers weep by his pathos, driven a witness to the last shift of Irish evasion, and puzzled a judge by some point of law not dreamed of in his philosophy, that, all weary and exhausted as he must be, he mounts the rostrum of the committee, the Jupiter touans (^thundering Jove) of the Catholic senate, and by those thunder- bolts of eloquence, so much more effective to hear than to read, kindles the lambent light of patriotism to its fiercest glow, and ' with fear of change ' j^erplexes Orange lodges. Again, this boldest of demagogues, this mildest of men ' from Dan to Beensheba,' appears in the patri- archal light of a happy father of a happy family, practising all the social duties and nourishing all the social affections. It is remaikable that Mr. O'Connell is not only governed by the same sense of the value of time as influenced Sir Edward Coke, but literally obeys his injunctions for its partition, which form the creed, more than the practice, of rising young lawyers. It is this intense and laborious diligence in his profession that has won him the public confidence. "Where his abilities as a lawyer may be serviceable, party yields to self-interest; and many an inveterate Ascendency man leaves his friends, the Orange barristers, to hawk their empty bags through the courts, while he assigns to Catholic talent the cause which Catholic eloquence can best defend." Before this chapter comes to an end we shall see an instance strikingly con- firmatory of this last statement of Lady Morgan's. I am now about to present the reader with a few more of O'Connell's bar-anecdotes and other reminiscences. Here is one of his comical stories. Tlie THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL, 239 heroine of it is a Miss Hussey, to whom lier father bequeathed an income of one hundred and fifty pounds per annum, in consideration of her having an ugly nose. " He had made a -will," quoth O'Con- nell, "disposing of the bulk of his fortune to public charities. When he was upon his death-bed his housekeeper asked him how much he had left Miss Llary. He replied that he had left her one thousand pounds, which would do for her very ■well, if she made off any sort of a good husband. ' Heaven bless your honour!' cried the housekeeper; ' and what decent man would ever take her with the nose she has got ? ' ' Why, that is really very true,' replied the djdng father; ' I never thought of her nose ; ' and he lo.st no time in adding a codicil that gave j\Iiss Mary an addition of one hundred and fifty pounds a year as a set-off against her ugliness." On another occasion O'Connell told the following anecdote about a cow-stealer: — " I was once counsel for a cow-stealer, who was clearly convicted — the sentence was transportation for fourteen years. At the end of that time he returned, and happening to meet me, he began to talk about the trial. I asked him how he alwaj's had managed to steal the fat cows ; to which he gravely answered: 'Why, then, I'll tell your honour the whole secret of that, sir. W/ioicver your honour goes to steal a coiv, always go on the worst night you can ; for if the weather is very bad, the chances are that nobody will be up to see your honour. The way you'll always know the fat cattle in the dark is by this token—that the fat cows always stand out in the more exposed places, but the lean ones always go into the ditch for shelter.' So I got," added O'Connell, "that lesson in cow-stealing gratis from my Avorthy client." Mr. Daimt haj^pening to observe to our hero " that when a speaker averred with much earnestness that his speech was un- premeditated, he never felt inclined to believe him," O'Connell laughed and said, in reply: "I remember a young barrister, named B , once came to consult me on a case in which he was retained, and begged my permission to read for me the draft of a speech he intended to deliver at the trial, which was to come on in about a fortnight. I assented ; whereupon he began to read, ' Gentlemen of the jury, I pledge you my honour as a gentleman tliat I did not know until this moment I should have to address you in this cause.'' 'Oh! that's enough ! ' cried I ; ' consult some- body else — that specimen is quite enough for me ! ' " At Maryborough, in the Queen's county, before they retired to bed one night, Mr. Daunt and ''the Liberator" had a con- versation on the subject of trial by jury. Mr. Daunt asked him ' ' if he didn't think it absurd to require unanunity in a jury? if the plan of the old Scotch criminal juries — namely, that of deciding by the majority — was not tlie more rational mode?" " In theory it is," said O'Connell in reply ; ' ' but there are great practical advantages in the plan that requires unanimity. To be sure, there is this dis- advantage, that one obstinate fellovv may knock up a good verdict in spite of eleven clear-headed jurors ; but that does not hapjjen once in a hundred cases And the necessity for a unanimous vei'dict may be a vast protection for a person tm justly charged with an offence I remember a case in which eleven jurors found a man guilty of murder, while the twelfth — a gawky fellow, who had never before been on a jury — said he thought the deceased died by a fall from his horse. The dissident juror persisted; the case was accordingly held over till the next assizes, and in the mean tune evidence came out that most clearly confirmed the surmise of the gawky juror. Here, then, if the majority of jurors had been able to return a verdict, an innocent man had suffered death." O'Connell held strong convictions against capital punishment. He fancied that his own professional experience furnished him with many valid reasons for its abolition. I do not think it neces- sary here to express any opinion, one way or the other, on the vexed questions bearing on the lawfulness or advisability of inflicting the punishment of death on criminals guilty of certain black and enor- mous crimes. O'Connell " +old me," says Daunt, " of an instance where an innocent life was all but lost — the prosecutrix (a woman whose house had been attackea) having CTroneously sworn to the identity of a prisoner who was totally guiltless of the offence. The man was found giiilty and sentenced to death on her evidence. He bore a considerable personal resem- blance to the real criminal. The latter 240 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CON NELL. having been arrested and confronted with the prosecutrix, she fainted with horror at her mistake, which liad been so nearly fatal in its consequences By the prompt interference of Judge Burton (then at the bar) and O'Connell, the Government were induced to discharge the unoffending individual, who had the narrowest pos- sible escape of a rope." Here is a more terrible case, in O'Con- nell's own woi'ds, extracted from a speech made by him at a meeting held m London : — " I myself defended three brothers of the name of Cremin. They were indicted for murder The evidence was most unsatisfactory. The judge had a leaning in favour of the Crown prosecution, and he almost compelled the jury to convict tliem. I sat at my window as they passed by after sentence of death had been pro- nounced ; there was a large military guard taking them back to jail, positively for- bidden to allow any communication with the three unfortunate youths. But their mother was there ; and she, armed in the strength of her affection, broke through the guard. I saw her clasp her eldest son, who was but twenty-two years of age ; I saw her hang on the second, who was not twenty; I saw her faint when she clung to the neck of the youngest boy, who was but eighteen ; and I ask. What recompense could be made for such agony? They were executed, and — they were innocent ! " Tlie conduct of the judge hi this case bears some resemblance to that of Judge Keogh in the case of those two unfor- tunate brothers, the Cormacks, tried at Nenagh some years subsequently to the death of O'ConneU. The Liberator, one evening at Uarry- nane, defended that principle of law which protects the individual who has once been acquitted of a capital charge from being arraigned a second time for the same offence. Some one tried to shew " that this principle might sanction injustice — as in a case where a murderer had been acquitted through defect of evidence, and where a competent -witness volunteered to tender direct testmiony against the accused in the event«of a new trial." "My good sir," said O'Connell, "if the principle of repeating the trial were once admitted, the injustice on the other side would be infinitely greater. If the accused could be tried over again on the appearance of a fresh witness, pray where could you limit the danger to innocent persons unjustly arraigned? At the ex- piration of months or years, they would again be hable to trial for their lives, if any unprincipled witnesses should offer tliemselves as bemg competent to give fresh evidence." Once, when they were travelling together from Roscrea to Dublin, O'Con- nell told his friend, Mr. Daunt, an anecdote of the humorous and eccentric historian of the Union, Sir Jonah Bar- rington, "which, if true, is rather more creditable to his ingenuity than to his integrity." This is the very just remark of O'Neill Daunt. "Sir Jonah," said O'Connell, "had pledged his family plate for a large sura of money to one Stevenson, a Dublin pawnibroker, and feeling desirous to re- cover the plate without pajdng back the money, he hit upon the following device to accomplish his purpose. He invited the viceroy and several noblemen to dinner, and then went to Stevenson, begging he might let him have the plate for the occasion. ' You see how I am cir- cumstanced, Stevenson,' said Sir Jonah. ' I have asked all these fine folk to dine, and I must borrow back my plate for this one day. I assure you, my dear fellow, you shall have it again ; and in order to secure its restoration to your hands, you shall come and make one of our party. I can ask o?;e private friend; and you, as a member of the Common Council, are perfectly admissible. Come — there's a good fellow ! and you know you need not leave my house until you carry off the plate along' with you.' Stevenson, de- lighted at the honour of dining at the table with the viceroy, lords, and judges, fell into the trap, and went to dinner. Sir Jonah plied him well A\dth cliampagne, and soon made him potently drunk. At a late hour he was sent home in a job-coach; his wife put him to bed, and he never awoke till two o'clock next day. An hour then elapsed before his mist^', muddled recollection cleared itself. He then be- thought him of the plate — he started up and drove to Bariington's. But, alas ! Sir Jonah was gone, and, what was much worse, the plate tvas gone too! Poor Steven- son recorded a bitter vow against dining in aristocratic company for tlie rest of his natural life." THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 241 As O'Connell and Daunt, at the close of their journey, drove along Skinner's Kow, the former pointed out the ruins of the old Four Courts to his friend, and shewed him where the old jail had stood. "Father Lube," said O'Connell, "in- formed me of a curious escape of a robber from that jail. The rogue was rich, and gave the jailer one hundred and twenty pounds to Ic* him out. The jailer then prepared for his prisoner's escape in the following manner: he announced that the fellow had a spotted fever, and the rogue shammed sick so successfully that no one suspected any cheat. Meanwhile the jailer procixred a fresh corpse, and smuggled it into the piisoner's bed, while the pseudo-invalid was let out one fine dark night. The corpse, which passed for that of the robber, vv^as decently interred, and the trick remained undis- covered till revealed by the jailer's daughter, long after his death. Father Lube told me," added O'Connell, " that the face of the corpse was dappled with paint, to imitate the discolourment of a spotted fever." Hedges Eyi'e, a well-known Orange- man in his day, always took care to have our hero as his counsel when he had any law-business in hand. An Orange friend of Eyre's, with more bigotry in his heart than common sense in his brains, once reproached him bittei-ly for retaining as his counsel the great arch -Papist advo- cate. " You've got scTen counsel without him," quoth this bigoted blockhead, "and why should you give your money to that Papist rascal?" Hedges kept silent ; but the two stayed in court watching the progress of the trial. The counsel opposed to Eyre pressed a point for nonsuit; the judge (Johnson) seemed to incline to their view. O'Connell protested against the nonsuit as a great injustice. The judge was stub- born. "Well, hear me at all events,'' cried O'Connell. "No, I won-'t,"rephes the judge; "I've already heard the leading counsel " '• But 1 am conducting counsel," re- joined O'Connell, " and moise intimately aware of the details of the case than my brethren. I 'entreat, therefore, you will hear me." Tlie judge consented with a bad grace ; but five Uiinutes had hardly elapsed when O'Connell had succeeded in convincing him of the injustice of the nonsuit. "iVf/^u," said Hedges Eyre, triumphing over his brother Orangeman, '■•11010, do you see why I gave my money to that Papist rascal?" O'Connell amused his guests with a story of a medical doctor, who was de- tained for a number of days at the Limerick assizes, to which he had been subpoenaed as a witness. He pressed the judge to order him his exjjenses. " On what plea do you claim your expenses?'' demanded the judge. "On the plea of my heavy personal loss and inconvenience, my lord," replied the applicant, rather innocently. " I have been kept away from my patients these five days, and, if I am kept here much longer, hoiv do I know but thcjfll ijct loell?" On the same occasion O'Connell told his friends how, year after year, his efforts to get a post-office established at the little town of Cahirciveen — near which the reader, no doubt, remembers he was born — were all in vain, until, by good luck, in 1809, he gained a lawsuit for Edward Lees (afterwards Sir Edward), the Secretary to the General Post- Office, and brother to that eccentric parson. Sir Harcourt Lees. After the successful lawsuit, Lees pi'oved the wai-mth of his gratitude by procuring the establishment of a post-office at Cahirciveen. It is perfectly clear that our hero had all the qualifications requisite to enable him to play to perfection the part of aii agreeable host or a pleasant travelling- companion; above all, that he was a most amusing and even admirable story- teller. " O'Connell," says his friend, the observant Mr. Daunt, " never appeared to greater advantage than when presiding at his ovm table. Of him it may be said, as Lockhart has observed of Scott, that his notions of hospitality included the necessity of making his intellectual stores available to the amusement of his guests. His conversation was replete with anec- dote ; and the narratives wliich possessed for me by far the greatest interest were those in wliich the nan-ator was personally concerned. His memory was prodigious ; and not the smallest trait of character or manner in the numberless persons with whom, in the course of his bustling carreer, he liad come in contact escaped the grasp of his retentive recollection." 242 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. Conversing once on the subject of temperance versus intemperance, he was led to speak of Judge Boyd. This judge, he said, " was so fond of brandy that he always kept a supply of it in court upon the desk before him, in an inkstand of peculiar make. His lordship used to lean his arm upon the desk, bob down his head, and steal a hurried sip from time to time, through a quill that lay among the pens, which manoeuvre he flattered himself escaped observation. " One day it was sought by counsel to convict a witness of having been intoxi- cated at the period to which his evidence referred; Mr. Harry Deane Grady laboured hard, upon the other hand, to shew that the man had been sober. " ' Come noAv, my good man,' said Judge Boyd, ' it is a very important consideration — ^tell the court truty, Avere you drunk or were you sober upon that occasion?' "'Oh! quite sober, my lord!' broke in Grady, with a very significant look at the inkstand; ' as sober — as a judge .'^ " On one occasion O'Connell had been retained to defend a prisoner, whose case, (one of life and death) was considered hopeless by his attorney, and, indeed, by all who knew anything about the matter. In fact, the evidence against the prisoner seemed overwhelming. When the trial came on, O'Connell plainly saw tliat, to give his client the smallest chance of getting off, it was necessary to leave the beaten track and defend him in a style altogether unique. The judge was Ser- geant Lefroy, then comparatively young. He was acting in place of the regular judge, who was prevented by illness from presiding. O'Connell commenced by putting a number of utterly illegal questions to the chief witness for the prosecution. The counsel for the Crown at once objected to O'Connell's question; and Sergeant Lefroy quickly cut him short, deciding in the most positive manner that he could not suffer him to proceed with such an illegal line of cross- examination. This was just what O'Con- nell wanted : his opponents and the judge had alike fallen into his trap. With every appearance of uncontrollable in- dignation, he exclaimed, — " As you refuse mu permission to defend my client, I leave his fate in your hands ; his blood will be on your head, if he be condemned." O'Connell then rushed impetuously out of court, and commenced walking up and down outside. About half -an-hour goes by ; O'Connell is still promenading with hurried steps, when, all of sudden, he sees his client's attorney rushing out of the court-house hatless and excited. "He's acquitted! he's acquitted!" cries the limb of law, full of delight and gasping for breath. O'Connell gives a comical grin. All his calculations had proved correct. He had shrewdly guessed that an iinhackneyed judge like Lefroy would shrink back, if it were at all possible, from being in any way instriunental in causing a capital conviction. " My only chance," said O'Connell, "was to throw the responsi- bility on the judge, who had a natural tidimity of incurring a responsibility so serious." Li short, Lefroy had insensibly acted as the prisoner's advocate, had cross- examined the witnesses brought against him. and had ended by charging the jury in his favour. We have already seen how boldly O'Connell defied the judicial insolence of Norbury. He was never afraid to beard the haughtiest and most overbearing occupants of the bench. His vehement self-assertion was more than a match for their arrogance and pride. His bitter sarcasm could cut keener than their envenomed and prejudiced malignancy. One day a discussion took place in court on a motion for a ucav trial. A young attorney was called on by the adverse counsel either to admit a certain state- ment as evidence, or hand in a document he could legally withhold. O'Connell is present in the court. He rises promptly and tells the attorney "to make no ad- mission." " Have you a brief in this case, Mr. O'Connell":' " demands Baron McCleland, in a tone of marked insolence. " I have not, my lord, but I shall have one when tlie case goes down to the assizes." " When / was at the bar," retorts the judge, " it was not my habit to anticipate briefs." " When yon were at the bar I never chose you for a model ; and now that you are on the bench, I shall not submit to your dictation." ilaviug given the baron "this bitter pUl to swallow, O'Connell marches out of court along with the young solicitor. During a trial at the assizes of Cork, THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 243 a question arose as to the admissibility of certoin evidence. O'Connell, with great abihty, urged that it was manifestly admissible. The court, however, ruled against hun, and thus he was deprived of the benefit of the testimony in dispute. Next morning, before resuming the hear- ing of tlie case, which was a protracted one, the judge addressed our hero in the following terms : — " I have reconsidered my decision of yesterday, aud my present opinion is, that the evidence tendered by you should not have been- rejected. You can therefore reproduce that evidence now." Did O'Connell then and there respond to the judge's recantation by an elaborate display of deferential gratitude? Not a bit of it. Most barristers, indeed, would have done so, but our sturdy Dan burst out impatiently, — " Had your lordship known as much law yesterday morning as you do to-day, you would have spared me a vast amount of time and trouble, and my client ;i. considerable amount of injury. Crier, call up the witnesses." The judge, thoroughly abashed by this somewhat stern rebuke, preserved a com- plete silence. One evening toward the end of No- vember, or in the beginning of December, 1840, at Darrynane, i\lr. O'Connell amused his guests with some of his forensic recol- lections. He talked of ex-Judge Day, who then, well stricken in years, was living in retirement, having resigned his seat on the bench quite a number of years previously. " He must now." observed O'Connell, " be at least ninety-eight, and he writes as firm a hand as ever, and preserves his intellect (such as it is)imimpaired. To be sure, he never had much to preserve in this respect; but all he ever had he has kept. He had excellent qualities of the heart: no man would take more pains to serve a friend; but as a judge, they could scarcely have placed a less efficient man upon the bench. Curran used to say, that Day's eiiorts to under- stand a point of law reminded him of nothing so much as the attempt to open an oyster with a rolliug-pin. " He once said to me at the Coi-k assizes, ' Mr. O'Comiell, I ' must not allow you to make a speech: the fact is, I am always of opinion with the last speaker, and therefore I will not let you say one word.' " ' iMy lord,' said I, 'that is precisely the reason why I'll let nobody have the last word but myself, if I can help it.' " I had the last word, and Day charged in favour of my client. Day was made a judge in 1798. He had been chairman of Kilmainham, with a salary of twelve hundred pounds a year. When he got on the bench, Bully Egan got the chair- manship."' Somebody in the company asked O'Con- nell, "Was Bully Egan a good lawyer?" ' ' He was a successful one. His bullying helped him tlarough. He was a desperate duellist. One of his duels was fought ,with a Mr. Eeilly, who fired before the word was given. The shot did not take effect. " ' Well, at any rate, my honour's safe ! ' cried Reilly. "'Is it so?' said Egan. 'Egad, I'll take a slap at your honour for all that.' " And Egan deliberately held his pistol pointed for full five minutes at lieilly, whom he kept for that period in the agonies of mortal suspense." • Sir. Daunt asked O'Connell, " Did he kill him?" "Not he!" responded O'Connell; he couldn't hit a haystack. If courage appertained . to duelling, he certainly- possessed it. But in everything else he was the most timid man alive. Once I stated in the Court of Exchequer that. I had, three days before, been in the room with a man m a fever, one hundred, and twenty miles off. The instant I said so, Egan shuffled away to the opposite side of the court, through pure fear of infection. Egan used to make a vast deal of money as counsel at elections." Doubtless this was on account of his predilection for the arbitrament of the pistol. A taste for duelling was an in- dispensable qualification for success as an Irish electioneering counsel in those days, — '■ For those wera the days when the angry blow Supplanted the word that ohide.^ — Whea hearts could ^'low— long ago, (AoO in the days of the Barmecides " but m the days of BuUyEgan, Tiger Roche,' Fighting Fitzgerald, Brian Maguire, " et hoc genus omne,'' — the storied heroes of many a neat exchange of shots in the Fifteen Acres and elsewhere. I may- as well mention, in passing, that 244 THE LIFE OF DANIEL OCONNELL. old Judge Day died a few months aftei the date of the above conversation. It was probably after his death that (some further reference being made to the old wiseacre) O'Connell called up the follow- ing forensic reminiscence : — "••Ay, poor Day!" said O'Connell; " most innocent of law was my poor friend Day! I remember once I was fionnscl before him for a man who had stolen some goats. The fact was proved; whereupon I produced to old Day an old Act of Parliament, empowering the owners of cornfields, gardens, or plan- tations to kill and destroy all goats tres- passing thereon. I contended that this legal power of destruction clearly demon- strated that (louti^ iccre not property; and I. thence inferred that the stealer of goats was not legally a thief, nor punishable as feuch. Poor Day charged the jury accord- ingly, and the prisoner was acquitted." Dogberry could hardly surpass tiiis. As we are on the subject of judges, I shall add here a curious, or rather comical, instance of the absurdity of some of the attacks made by tlie Tory papers on O'Connell during the palmy days of his agitations. One of these oracles of poli- tical sagacity (Mr. Daunt, who is my authority for the statement, could not call to memory the name of this paragon of newspapers), in grave • and sober earnestness, arraigned the great agitator for having sought to bring the judical character into disrepute, because one of his harangues at Leeds, in Yorkshire (horrible to relate!), contained the fol- lowing profane comments upon the judi- cial wig: — "The judges of the land, who come down to preside in your courts with all their solemn gravity and hailequinade, astonisli the people with their profusion of horse-hair and chalk! For, must not every one think wliat a formidable, terrible fellow he is, that has got twenty- Eine pounds' wtnglit of an enormous powdered wig ujjon his head? This is all humbug of the old times; and I long- to see it kicked away, along with many other aiitiquated absurdities and abuses." Surely, it would have been in nowise wonderful if the disciples of old JNIother Goose, who. under that venerable dame's inspiration, contributed so many of the lucubrations of the Tory press of those days, and the innumerable wooden-pated Deadlocks of the tribe of Tory squii-es, who derived their few and obsolete notions from that antiquated fountain, had become wild with alarm lest O'Con- nell's reckless impiety in thus blasphem- ing judicial horse-hair should at once loosen "the entire cohesion of things," and bring back tlie anarchy " of primeval night and chaos." Keturning to O'Connell's bar remini- scences, here is a specimen of the miimte and painstaking way in which, when a rising young lawyer, he looked after his client's interests. It is easy to perceive that his success at the bar was inevitable from the first. Such a man could not do otherwise than achieve success in almost any practical walk of life. But to our illustration : — During the year in Avhich " the Liber- ator" was lord-mayor, Mr. John O'Neill (a survivor of the volunteers of 1782) on one occasion solicited his good offices in behalf of the children of an unfortunate man, who had a short time before died in embarrassed circumstances. "Poor fellow!" said O'Neill, " he was a slobbering sort of manager. The Dutch say, 'that when a man becomes distressed, it is a sure sign that he has not kept his accounts with regularity.'" "The Dutch are not far from the truth," observed O'Connell. "I have often seen preposterously slobbering mis- management among men for whom I have been professionally concerned. I recollect I once had a client, an unlucky fellow, against whom a verdict had been given for a balance of eleven hundred pounds. We were trying to set aside that verdict. I was young at the bar at that time; my senior counsel contented themselves with abusing the adverse witnesses, detecting flaws in their evi- dence, and making sparkling points — ^in short, they made very flourishing and eloquent, but rather ineffective speeches. Whdst they flourished away, I got our client's books, and, taking my place immediately under the judge's bench, I opened the accounts, and went through them all from beginning to end. I got the whole drawn out by double entry, and got numbers for every voucher. The result plainly was, that so far from their being a just balance of eleven hundred pounds against our poor devil, there actually was a balance of seven hundred pounds in his favour, although the poor slovenly blockhead did not THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. 245 know it himself ! When my turn came, I made the facts as clear as possible to judge and jury, and the jury inquired ' if they couldn't find a verdict of seven hundred pounds for Mr. '?' I just tell you the circumstance," continued O'Connell, " to shew you that I kept an eye on that important branch of my pro- fession." Another time O'Connell told the fol- lowing odd story : — "I remember being counsel at a special commission in Kerry, against a INIr. S , and Laving occasion to press, him some- what hard in my speech, he jumped up in court, and called me ' a purse-proud blockhead.' I said to Ijim, — ' In the first place, I have got no purse to be proud of; and, secondly, if I be a blockhead, it is the better for you, as I 'in counsel agamst you. However, just to save you the trouble of saying so again, I '11 administer a slight rebuke;' whereupon I whacked him soundly on the back with the president's cane. Next day he sent me a challenge by William Ponsouby, of Crottoe; but very shortly after he wrote to me to state, that since he had challenged me he had discovered that my life was inserted in a valuable lease of his. ' Under these circumstances,' he continued, 'I cannot aiford to shoot you, unless, as a precautionary measure, you first insure your life for my benefit. If you do, then hey for powder and ball! I 'm your man.' Now this seems so ludi- crously absurd, that it is almost incre- dible : yet it is literally true. S was a very timid man, yet he fought six duels ; in fact, he fought them all out of pure fear." The foregoing anecdote is certainly a very singular one. I have taken it from Mr. Daunt's Personal Recollections. If that gentleman were under no miscon- ception in reporting the particulars of this occurrence, it would appear that not merely was O'Connell on this occasion grossly insulted in open court, but that, moreover, he inflicted personal chastise- ment on the offending party in open court. Making every allowance for the manners of the days of our gi'andfathers, anything like this seems to border on the incredible. Yet evsn so, in all probability, Mr. Daunt's version of O'Connell's story is a perfectly accurate narrative of what actually occurred. '"Truth is often stranger than fiction," as the hackneyed proverb runs. Assuming, then, that the account whicli I have given of this adventure of Dan's be strictly true, it suggests the strangest idea of what the state of society in Ireland must, in certain respects, have been during the earlier portion of our liero's public life. Mr. Primrose of llillgrove (it was at this gentleman's place that the anecdote about the squabble in the court-house was related) adverted to Judge Jackson's calumny against O'Connell (this was vented much later than the period of our hero's life with which we are dealing in this chapter), promulgated on the authority of Mr. Robert Twiss. "Ay, Bob — poor Bob!" said O'Con- nell. "I remember a good hit the late Archdeacon Day made at Bob. While Bob was high-sherriff of Kerry, I dined in his company one day, in Tralee. There was a riot in the street, and Bob was desirous to mterpose his authority. ' Oh, let them fight it out!,' exclaimed the ai'chdeacon. ' No, no ; I '11 pacify them,' answered Bob; and he accordingly rushed out into the street, and set about pacifying the people by knocking down one man on the right and another on the left, crying out all the while, 'I'm the high-sheriff! I'm the high- sheriff!' A fellow who did not care for dignitaries soon made a low sheriff of him, by bestowing a blow on his head that stunned him. Poor Bob was brought back into the house insensible; but his head, when examined, was found not to have sustained the least fracture. When he revived. Archdeacon Day congratulated him, saying, • How providential, Bob, that your skull ivas so thick."" For the sake of a little variety, I shall turn aside, for a brief space longer, from O'Connell's exclusively forensic recollec- tions, and give one or two additional sketches of a somewhat different com- plexion. I shall proceed to give a sketch of '-the Liberator" sitting for his por- trait. I must confess, that in inti'oducing this sketch at this part of my biography I am anticipating events considerably; for the sitting,, which I am about to bring before the reader's notice, took place many a long year later than the period of O'Connell's history at which we have arrived. Nevertheless, I think it may be more convenient to bring it in here than at a later stage of the work, where the continuous and absorbing interest of 246 THE LIFJ3 OF DANIEL O CONNELL. liis political career avUI leave room for few digressions to topics of lighter im- portance. "One morning in February" (1841), Mr. Daunt tells us, "I was present when H , the portrait-painter, called to take O'Connell's likeness, for a picture which •which was destined to commemorate some Reform meeting. Portrait-painters gene- rally keep their sitters in conversation for the purpose of bringing out the expression of the face. I was amused with H 's exuberant fiippancj'. Mr. O'ConneU was narrating an instance of his own forensic and political success at some provincial assizes, and the patchwork effect produced in his narrative by his auditor's incessant exclamation was ludicrous enough. " 'I made,' said he, 'a long speech on the occasion.' " 'Yes. yes; along speech — excellent!' " ' And I was listened to at first with silence; but, by-and-by, the jury began to cheer, and the crowd in the coiurt-house cheered.' " 'To be sure, to be sure — capital!' " ' And I thouglit the judge looked as if he was gomg to cheer too.' '' ' Cheer, too? No doubt, no doubt! Very good. Please turn a little to the left, sir — that's just it.' ' ' ' But on the following day I had a still stronger proof of my success.' " ' Ay, ay; so I should suppose.' " ' A sturdy Presbyterian farmer, a fellow who had been a great leader among the Orangemen of the neighbour- hood, and a bitter hater of the Catholics, came up to the parish priest, whom he met upon the road ' " ' To the parish priest? I la ! ' "'And offered to shake hands with him.' " ' Shake hands with the priest? Bless my soul ! ' "'And the priest, astonished at this fan?iliarity from such a quarter ' "'No doubt! He must have been amazingly surprised ! ' "'Expressed his amazement good- humouredly, and asked the man, in the course of conversation, if he had been in court on the preceding day ' "'In court? Yes, yes. Very good. May 1 ask you to hold up that sheet of white paper to the left of your face ; it reflects the light upon it. There — pre- cisely so.' ■ " ' I was in court,' replied the man, ' and a greater change has been produced upon my mind than I could have thought possible.' "'Ha!' " ' I heard Counsellor O'Connell; and till then I always thought he was a rough, blustering fellow, who wanted to carry all his ends by bullying and threats ' "'Ha!' " ' But, instead of that, he appealed to our reason, and not to our fears, and did so with all possible courtesy and gentle- ness.' " ' Precisely so,' cried H- — — . ' With all possibfe courtesy and gentleness. Admirable! Excellent! A most intel- ligent fellow. Please to hold the paper somewhat higher up. I flatter myself this loill be a likeness. Since you last sat to me, I have been honoured with a sitting by his grace the ' Duke of Wellington. His Grace is exceedingly agreeable — has much more humour than one would suppose — kept telling anec- dotes the whole time he sat, and told them right well.' " 'Yes,' said O'Connell, 'he has seen so much of hfe that he must have gained materials- for bemg entertaining. He must, I suppose, abound in guard-room sort of stories. We cannot but admit he is a first-rate corporal.' " Mr. Daunt remarks "that it was scarcely possible to speak on any subject which did not illicit an anecdote from the stories of O'Connell's recollection." Here is a story of native Kerr}' dexterity, which "the Liberator" told that gentle- man with infinite glee : — - "One day during the war, James Connor and I dined at Mr. Mahony's, in Dublui, and after dmner we heard the newsvenders, as usual, calling out, ' The Post! The Dublin Evening Post! Three packets in to-night's post!' The arrival of the packets was at that time irregular, and eagerly looked for. We all Avere impatient for the paper; and Mahony gave a five-penny piece to his servant, a Kerry lad, and told him to go down and buy the Post. I'he boy returned in a minute with a Dublin Evening Post, which, on opening, we found, to our infinite chagrin, was a fortnight old. The roguish newsvender Jiad pawned off an old paper on the un- suspecting Kerry tiger. Mi*. Mahony stormed, Connor and I laughed, and Connor said — THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 247 " 'I wonder, gossooii, how you let tlie fellow cheat you? Has not your master a liundred times told you that the dry papers are always old and good for nothing, and that the new papers are always wet from the printing-office? Here 's another five-penny. Be off, now, and take care to bring us in a tvct Post.' " ' Oh, never mind the five-penny, sir,' said the boy, ' I '11 get the paper without it;' and he darted out of the room, while Mahony cried out, ' Hang that young- blockhead, he'll blunder the business again.' ' • But in less than five minutes the lad re-entered with a fresh ivet newspaper. We were all surprised, and asked him how he had managed to get it without money. " ' Oh, the asiest way in life,' said the urchin. ' I just took the dry ould Post, and cried it down the street a bit — " Dublin Evening Post! Dublin Ei^cning PostT' and a fool of a gentleman meets me at the corner and buys my ould dry paper. So I whips across to a newsman I sees over the way and buys this fine, fresh, wet, new Post for your honour, with the money I got for the ould one.' " I shall next present to the reader O'Conneil's story of a Connaught duel- list, named Blake. This gentleman had been called out to take his chance of " shivering on a daisy." Jill the parties concerned met at the appointed time and place, except Blake's second. Like the knights and nobles in Lara waiting for the ajDpearance of Sir Ezzelui, they • delayed the proceedings some minutes, but all in vaiii ; Blake's second failed to put in an appearance. " It is a pity," quoth Blake, " to keep you waiting any longer, gentlemen ; " and opening his pistol-case (which had been placed in his carriage by the absent second), he deliberately snapped one of the pistols at his opi^onent. On findmg that it did not go off, he began very coolly to hammer away at the iiint, saying, " Fue away, sir! I'll be ready for you in no time ! " While he spoke, his second came galloping up, with many apologies for his absence: but on seeing that the parties had already commenced hostilities, he not imuaturally expressed great aston- ishment. " Egad, I snapped my pistol," said Blake, upbraidingly, " and it missed fire." " Of course it did," replied the second; " you know it was not charged." "Not charged?"' cried Blake; "and pray of what use is a case of pistols if they are not charged?" O'Connell used to tell of a case in which he Avas engaged professionally. It was an action instituted by a IMiss Fitzgerald against a Parson Hawkesworth for a breach of promise of marriage. "Hawkesworth," said O'Connell, speak- ing of this affair to his agitating staff one day they were returning from a rejjeal meeting held at Drogheda, "had certainly engaged the lady's affections very much. He had acquired fame enough to engage her ambition. He was a crack preacher — had been selected to preach before the lord-lieutenant — his name occasionally got into the newspapers, which then was ,not often with private persons; and no doubt this notoriety had its weight in the lady's calculations. Thmgs are changed in this respect, my dear Tom," continued O'Connell, turning to his " Head Pacifi- cator," the well-known and very eccentric Tom Steele, who was one of his travelling companions on this occasion; '■'71010 the difficulty is for some people to keep out of the newspapers ! " (What woidd O'Connell have said had he lived to glance his eye over some of the New York and other American journals published in this actual year 0/ grace, 1 872 ? How he woidd stare at their columns of '■'■ interviewings'''' and other sensational personalities, before which European jour- nalistic gossip and scjisationalism must hide their diminished heads!) " If I, for ex- ample," proceeded " the Liberator," "go to see the "Belleisle" frigate, next morning it's all in prmt! and who were along with me, and how we were received on board, just as if we were princes! But to return to Hawkesworth. The correspondence read upon the trial was comical enough. The lady, it appeared, had at one period doubted his fidelity; whereupon the parson writes to reassure her in these words: — ' Don't believe any one who says I '11 jilt you. They lie who say so ; and I ^Dray that all such liars may be condemned to an eternity of itching without the benefit of scratching.' Three thousand pounds damages were given against him. He was unable to pay, and decamped to America upon a preaching 2i8 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O'CONNELL. speculation, which proved unsuccessful. He came back to Ireland, and married the prosecutrix!" During this same journey, when ap- proaching from the vUlage of Ashbourne to Dublin, some objects of antiquify which (Irose had illustrated recalled that antiquary to -'the Liberator's" mind. "Grose," said he, ''came to Ireland full of strong prejudices against the people; but they gave way beneath the influence of Irish drollery. He was very much teased, Avhile walking through the Dublin markets, by the butchers beset- ting him for his custom. At last he got angry, and told tliem all to go about their business : when a sly, waggish butcher, deliberately survejang Grose's fat, ruddy face and corpulent person, said to him, 'Well, please your honour, I won't ax you to buy, since it puts your honour in a pas- sion ; but I'll tell you how you'll sarve me — just teJl all your friends that iCs I that supply you ivith your mate, and, never fear, I'll have custom enough." Among the professional reminiscences of O'Connell may be mentioned the story of ''Duke O'Neiil's Avill." This will was a singular and, in spite of its down- right rascality, somewhat laughable fraud, which for a time inspired a lot of gullible mortals with visionary hopes of becom- ing rich by the di-dsion of a colossal for- tune. Tlic cheat originated in tliis wise : A smart,, unscrupulous attorney's clerk, desirious of treating himself to a pleasent summer excursion at other people's ex- pense, forged a document, which purported to be the last will and testament of a certain graiidee of Spain, the Duke O'Xeill, who had died without leaving offspring in that land of romance, after having amassed the vast sum of one million two hundred thousand pounds. This noble fortune, according to the provisions of the duke's will, was to be divided, share and share alike, between all his Hibernian cousins beariing the illustrious name of O'Neill, and within the fortieth degree of kindred! The concoctor of this precious imposition lost no time in directing his footsteps to the province of Ulster, where, with sublime effrontery, he introduced liimsclf at many houses with the story of the Hiberno- Spanish grandee's magnifi- cent bequest. The plausibility of the knave's statements everywhere secured him a hospitable reception. In addition to getting into snug quarters, he made a pretty tidy sum by selling copies of the forged document to every O'Neill Avho was green enough to present him with the moderate amount of half-a-crown for a neatly-eogrossed duplicate. In short, the trick was, for a time, quite a success;' and presently several sturdy northern farmers, and even a Liverpool merchant, all bearing the royal name of their imagi- nary princely relative, made application to O'Connell for his professional advice and assistance in recovering their shares of the splendid windfall which awaited the lucky O'Neills -within the fortieth degree of cousinship to the duke. I had better let O'Connell himself describe the awakening of the poor hum- bugged O'Neills from their idle dreams of bags of doubloons and chateaux en Espague (castles in Spain^ or in the air^. •• Nothing," said he, " could exceed their astonishment when I assured them the whole thing was a delusion. " 'Do you really tell us so, counsellor? ' " 'Indeed I do,' said I. " "And now we hope you Avouldn't lay it on your conscience to deceive us. Do you really tell lis, after all, that there's notliing at all to be got? ' '• 'Indeed, I can assure you with a very safe conscience,' said I, 'that it is all a fabrication ; and if an oath was required to confirm the fact, I could very safely give one.' " So away they went, indignant at the fraud, and lamenting that they had ever put faith in the tale of the -ould duke.' " On one occasion, as O'Connell was passing Belan, the deserted abode of the Earls of Aldborough, he repeated Hussey' Burgirs epigram on the hand which in former days adorned an old finger-post near the gate. To understand the point of the epigram, it should be borne in jnind that, in O'Connell's earlier days, the noble daughters of the Stratford family (Stratford is or was the family name of the Aldboroughs) were notorious for what is now emphatically styled klepto- mania. '• Great Jupiter! could I command Prometliean fire to warm that hand, Give it tenacity and feeling, TIaen fix, thus vivilied, tlie tist Upon my sympathetic wrist. Oh! what a hand 'twould be for stealing! " If it were not out of place, some odd THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 249 tales of the Stratford ladies iniglit be told li ere. '• Some ladies of quality," O'Connell continued, after reciting the epigram, "have a curious propensity for theft. There Avere the Honourable Misses II . In Bath, the sliopkeepers regu- larly traded on their thievish disposition. x\rticles of value were designedly left upon the counters; the baits of course took, and the honourable thieves were ]:>ursued by shopboys, who would say, •You have taken such or such articles, ladies, but you have forgotten to pay for tiiem.' An exorbitant price was then always demanded, which the ladies were glad to pay in order to escape the worse alternative of public exposure." I sliall give one or two additional instances of O'Connell's legal acumen, and of his rapid power of seizing hold of trifles the most minute to save his client. A farmer was caught in the act of killing game on the estate of a landlord. Three of the gentleman's servants, who had secured the poacher, were prepared to swear to his guilt. O'Connell thought the chance of a successful defence so slight that at first he declined taking a fee. "I can render your client no service; Ids guilt is undeniable," said O'Connell to the prisoner's attorney. "I confess the defence looks desperate," replied the solicitor, "but you will greatly oblige me by undertaking it." It required a considerable amount of pressing to overcome O'Connell's reluc- tance to accept the fee and undertake the defence. However, he finally yielded, and prejjared to cross-examine the first witness for the prosecution. " We shall remove the other two wit- nesses," the attorney whispered in his ear. "By no means," hastily responded O'Connell — "my only hope of success is in their presence ; let them remain." O'Connell seemed to guess intuitively that each of the three witnesses desired to have the entire credit of capturmg the . poacher, and felt indignant that either of the other two should claim any share of whatever merit was in the exploit. He assmned that irritated vanity would make each of the three, if skilfully man- aged in cross-examination (a branch of legal warfare in which our hero felt him- self a master), disparage and contradict tile other two. Acting on this supposition, he cross- examined the three servants with his accustomed ingenuity and effect. Before closing the cross-examination of the third witness, he said to him — "Now. will you answer me one addi- tional question? and then perhaps I'll have done with you." "If you promise to ask me no more questions. I'll answer you anv way you like." "Very well! Eemember you said so. N«w, by the virtue of your oath, is not the prisoner innocent?" "By the virtue of my oath, he is innocent ! " • Such was the strange response of the witness. The miserable sinner, seeing that he couldn't carry off the whole credit of the captui'e Imnself, was determined, if he could at any cost, to deprive his two fellow -servants of their due share of praise. The u^^shot of the trial was that the poacher was acquitted. Another time. O'Connell was on the point of despairing of being able to save a client accused of murder, in the face of the evidence brought against him, which seemed absolutely conclusive. The chief witness, however, against the pris- oner was a brisk, petulant boy. The rapid eye of O'Comiell saw at a glance that he was not unlikely to prove hurtful to his own side by being too eager and willing a witness. lie might be tripped up and made to contradict himself, if entangled in the meshes of a skilful cross- examination. "How do you know the prisoner is the man who committed the murder?" de- manded our hero. "I know him by the mark on his cheek." Now the prisoner had a mark on the left cheek. "On which cheek was the mark?" asked Dan. "On his right cheek," re^jlied the boy, hastily. What he really meant, in his unthinking hurry and confusion of ideas, was the cheek opposed to his right hand — in others words, the left cheek. But O'Connell took advantage of his verbal blunder and contrived to save the prisoner. The real criminal, it appears, who was afterward brought to light, was marked on the right cheek. Conspicious among O'Connell's forensic recollections was the memorable case of 250 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. Judge Johnson, who was tried in 1805 for a libel, signed " Juverna," printed in Cobbett's Political Register. On a strained construction of law, he was arrested and brought over to England to be tried. The libellous letter was a singular pro- duction for a judge. It was written in a bold and bitter spint and style. Several high officials are assailed severely. Secre- tary jMarsden is styled by "Juverna" "a corrupt, unprincipled, rapacious plun- derer, preying upon the property of the State ; " and Justice Osborne is held up«to public detestation and scorn, as " the most corrupt instrument of a debased and degraded Government, lending himself as a screen to conceal them from the dis- grace their actions would naturally brijig upon them." O'Connell speaks about "Juverna's" letter and the proceedings against Jwdge Johnson in the follow- ing words : — "It (the libel) called Lord Hardwicke 'a very eminent breeder of sheep in Cambridgeshire,' and Lord-Chancellor Eedesdale ' a very able and stout-built special pleader from Lincoln's Inn.' John- son's great object was to gain time. He sued out his habeas corpus in every one of the coui'ts. The last was the Common Pleas. One of his counsel was Scriven, whose instructions were to be as lengthy as possible. He accordingly opened by stating tliat he had eighteen distinct pro- positions to enunciate. Lord Norbury soon got tired, and tried to cut the matter short by occasionally saying, ' That will do, Mr. Scriven; the court is with you on that point, so you need not occupy your time by demonstration.' 'That won't do, my lord, ' said Scriven ; ' I must assist your lordship with some additional reasons. I well know the great ability of my learned friends who will follow on the other side, so I cannot possibly accept your lord- ship's concession.' The first day was wholly occupied by statinr/ the eighteen propositions; the succeeding days were devoted to proving them. The opposite coimsel, whose game was brevity, let Scriven run on uninterrupted. "^Vhen he came out of court the first day, he said, ' D — n those fellows! I could not get one of them to interrupt me.' But he and his brethren succeeded in wearing out the term. MeanwhUe the administration changed ; the new Government (of 1806) let Johnson off easily. He was not turned off the bench, but induced to retire on a pension of twelve hundred pounds a year." It was in the month of November, 1803, immediately after the execution of Robert Emmet, that Robert Johnson published this libel. The government of the viceroy, Lord Hardwicke, had corrupted the press of Ireland as no former government had ever succeeded in doing. Tlie first of the letters signed "Juverna" was sent to Cobbett avowedly because all the Dublin papers and printers had refused to publish it. The English attorney-general, unable in the first instance to find out the writer, prosecuted Cobbett for publishing the libels. An action was also taken against him by Plunket, at this time solicitor- general of Ireland, for libels in the letter reflecting on Plunket's conduct at Emmet's trial. In one bitter passage, " Juverna" represents Emmet as describ- ing Plunket thus: — "That viper, whom my father nourished. He it was from whose lips I first imbibed those principles and doctrines which now by their effects drag me to my grave, and he it is who is now brought forward as my prosecutor, and who, by an unheard-of exercise of the prerogative, has wantonly lashed with a speech to evidence the dying son of his former friend, when that son had pro- duced no evidence, had made no defence ; but, on the contrary, had acknowledged the charge and submitted to his fate." Davis called this a "a false and cruel charge." At all events, it appears certain that no such passage as this, calling Plunket " that viper, etc.," was ever uttered by Emmet. Burrowes, Robert Emmet's counsel, stated as much. On the first trial Cobbett was found guilty by the jury, after ten minutes' deliberation. In Plunket's civil suit, after twenty minutes, they found a^ verdict for the plaintiff and £500 damages. In this action the famouss Erskine opened for Plunket. Adam defended Cobbett with great ability, quoting the memorable words uttered by Plunket on the nulhty of the Union. These trials occured in May, 1804. In the second trial the manuscript of Johnson's letter was produced. It appears Cobbett gave it up, acknowledging that Johnson was the author. Witnesses swore that the handwriting was his. The English Government now resolved to prosecute Johnson, and to bring him over to London for trial. As, however. THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 251 there existed no law at that time em- ]>owering the authorities to remove offenders from Ireland to England, or vice versa, for trial, a bill was hurried through Parliament, entitled "An Act to render more easy the apprehending and bringing to trial offenders escaping from one part of the United Kingdom to the other, and also from one county to another," by which, among other things, it was enacted, that a warrant from a court in Great Britain might be transmitted to Ireland, endorsed and executed there by a justice of the peace, and the individual accused handed over for ti'ial to the court whence the warrant issued. This Act was in point of fact passed by the Tory majority for the express purpose of persecuting Judge Johnson. Thomas Davis says, — "That all the persons concerned in pusliing this Act knew its object, it would be wrong to say; but it was brought in by Perceval, Lord Redesdale's brother- in-law, and by Charles Yorke, the brother of Lord Hard\vicke, and was mainly and speedily used against Johnson." Surely, then, there is room for something more than mere suspicion against the Govern- ment. Bills were now found against Johnson by the Middlesex grand-jury, and on the 2ith of November a warrant was issued against him from the King's Bench at '\'V estminster. Accordingly, he was ar- rested at his house, near Dublin; but as the arrest was manifestly under aa ex post facto Act, which his counsel contended could not have a retrospective effect, the wbole matter was discussed at great length in the Dublin courts. First, it was discussed for six days in the court of King's Bench, in January, 1805. Mean- time he procured a Avrit of habeas corpus from the Court of Exchequer, and in this coui't also the case was argued, February 4th and 7th. Subsequently it was argued in the Court of Common Pleas. In all these courts the legality of the warrant was confirmed, and the arrest held good. Finally, he was brought over to London, tried and found guilty of the libel, ile- spectable witnesses were produced to prove that the letter was not in the handwriting of Justice Johnson. (In- deed, we know, on the authority of Lord CloncuiTy, that the libel was in tlie hand- writing of the judge's daughter.) But Lord EUenborough, the English chief- justice, unjustly threw discredit on these witnesses, and misdirected the jury. In short, though Johnson was really the writer of the letter signed " Juverna," his conviction was on bad evidence. Satisfied with disgracing the worthy judge by a criminal conviction, injuring his fortune by obliging him to incur the heavy expenses of these vexatious pro- ceedings, and, above all, teaching him and others the lesson that neither a judge nor any one else should dare to hold up to merited reprobation the evil doings of viceroys, chancellors, or secretaries, the Government did not enforce the verdicts either against him or Cobbett. Later, indeed, when Mr. Pitt died of Napoleon's great victory of Austerlitz, and Charles James Fox and the Whigs came into the office, the attorney-general even entered a nolle prosequi on the recoi"d, as of Trinity term, 1806. These proceedings against the judge, owing to their un- usual features, had created great scandal. The Whigs were anxious to ^vind them up quietly. O'Connell has already told us that he was not deprived of his seat on the bench, but induced to retire on a pension. In liis retirement in France, the good old judge wrote a praiseworthy treatise (though Davis, if I remember rightly, considers it somewhat defective) on the Military Defence of Ireland^ under the name of Colonel or Captain Philip Roche Fermoy. " This work," in the words of Mr. Mitchel, "has specially in view a defence of the country by the inhabitants of it against tlie English, and has been much studied since that time." Mr. Daunt says, "this Johnson was made a judge for supporting the Union." He was certainly elevated to the bench in 1800. His conduct then contrasts singularly with the course he pursued subsequently. The story of the persecution of another excellent judge, Mr. Justice Fox, much about the same time, for his righteous and fearless vindication of law and justice, grievously outraged by the oppressive and lawless doings of certain members of the tyrant-aristocracy of Ireland, forms an episode in Irish history still more interesting than the case of Judge Johnson, and presents a highly-curious and instructive illustration of what the British system in Ireland was in the years immediately followmg the Union. But, unfortunately, the space remaining at my 252 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O'CONNELL, disposal is not sufficient to justify me in entering into the details of this case. The reader will find a concise and interesting sketch of the whole trans- action in Mr. Mitchel's Continuation, — how the judge righteously fined Lord EnniskUlen two hundred pounds for non-appearance in court to answer for most iniquitous proceedings; how he also fined, in various sums not exceeding fifty pounds, Messrs. Stewart, Pallas, and Webster — the first-named gentleman for committing a man illegally, the other two for releasing a man charged with a capital offence, without bail; ho\v he censured the Marquis of Abereorn (and this was his great offence; for was not the Marquis the patron of the Orange brigands'?) for a neglect of duty, which occasioned a shameful fraud on the public; how the marquis, in a malignant speech, brought the conduct of the just and courageous judge before the House of Lords; how that House monstrously turned '-itself into a court to try the judge on a cruninal charge;" how Judge Fox was persecuted for three years, at an expense to the public of thirty thousand pounds, to himself of health and fortune; and how, finally, when Charles James Fox and the AVliigs came into power, the Lords opened their eyes to the foulness of the whole business, got ashamed (better late than never), and quashed the vexatious proceedings. The lesson read by the Tory Government, in Fox's case, to Irish judges, taught them that, if they cared for nmnber one, they would never dream of trying to bring to justice Orange offenders, if those ofi\nders sat in the high places. O'Connell's personal recollections and sketches, of which we ha,ve given the reader so many specimens in the present and in former chapters, throw a valuable light both on the manners and customs and on the character of the Irish nation in the days of his youth and manhood. The manners and customs of almost every country vary in every age; so that society in Ireland to-day is in many respects very different from what it was sixty or seventy years ago. Duelling has died out. Our last remarkable abduction was that of Miss Arbuthnot by the late notorious John Garden of Barnane. We no longer see Irish fortune-hunters at Bath and other resorts of fashion satirised as a class in comedies and novels. Our carousals, especially among the more cultured classes, are not so fierce as those of yore. Yet still Irish -'mirth and fun grow fast and furious." Upon the whole, our outward manners and customs are considerably modified. But the inner character of the Irish people, on the other hand, remains to this day un- altered, if not unalterable. I do not think it at all out of place here to in- troduce a long passage from ]\Ir. Mitchel's Continuation of tlte Abbe J\IcGeo(ihcc/an, in which he gives a masterly sketch of that 'composite Irish character," as he styles it, that was developed in the latter half of the last century. After speaking of the character of the Marquis of Buckingham, who succeeded the Duke of Rutland as viceroy at the close of 1787, Mr. Mitchel goes on thus: — " In short, he was in every way unsuited to the Irish temperament; for there had lately been formed gradually a marked Irish character, even amongst the Pro- testant colonists before the era of in- dependence, and still more notably since that time. Gentlemen born in this coimtry (Ireland), and all whose interests and associations were here, no longer called themselves Englishmen born in Ireland, as Swift had done. The same powerful assimilating influence which had formerly made the Norman settlers, Geraldiaes and De Burghs, ' more Irish than the Irish,' after two or three generations, had now also acted more or less upon the very Cromwellians and Williamites; and there was recognisable in the whole character and bearing even of the Protestants a certain dasli of that generosity, levity, impetuosity, and recklessness which have marked the Celtic race since the beginning. They were capable of the most outrageous depravity and of the highest honour and rectitude; of the most insolent, osten- tatious venality and corruption, as well as of the noblest, proudest independence. The formation of this modern composite Irish character is of course attributable to the gradual amalgamation of the pri- vileged Protestant colonists with the converted Irish, who had from time to time conformed to the Established Church, to save their estates or to possess themselves of the property of non-conforming neighbours. This was a large and increasing element in the Pro- testant colony ever since the time of Elizabeth; and of such families came THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 253 the Currans, Dalys, Doyles, Connollys, as well as the liigher names, O'Neill, OBrien, Burke, Roche, Fitzpatrick. The ancestors of these families, in abandoning their Catholic faith, could not let out all their Celtic blood, and that blood per- meated the whole mass of the jiopulation, and often broke out and shewed its origin even in men partly of English descent, or at least of English names. Grattan, for example" (hiit is ■^Grattan'''' certainly a name of English oriijin?'), "in the character of Jiis intellect and temperament, was as pvirely Celtic as Curran himself. In truth, it had become very difficult to determine the ethnological distinction between the inhabitants of the island; and surnames liad long ceased to be a safe guide, because ever since the statutes of Kil- kenny, in the fifteenth century, thousands of Irish families, especial^ of thoseresidmg near or in the English pale, had changed their names in obedience to those statutes, that they might have the benefit of the English law in their dealings with the people of the pale. They had assumed surnames, as prescribed by the statute, either from some trade or calling, as Miller, Taylor, Smith ; or from some place, as Trim, Slane, Galway; or from some colour, as Gray, Green, White, Brown. Gradually their original clan-names were lost; and it soon became their interest to keep up no tradition even of their Irish descent. Of one of the families in this category undoubtedly came Oliver Gold- smith, whose intensely Irish nature is a much surer guide to his origin than the trade-surname of Goldsmith, adopted under the statute. ••It has been said that surnames are no sure guide to origin; but in one direction surnames were, and are, nearly infallible: a Celtic surname is a sure indication of Celtic blood, because no- body ever had any interest in assuming or retaining siich a patronymic, all the interests and temptations being the other way. But an Knglish surname is no in- dication at all of English descent, because for several centuries— first under the statutes of Kilkenny, afterwards under the more grievous pressure of the penal code — all possible worldly inducements were held out to Irishmen to take English names, and forget their own.* * Mr. Mitchel has the following note to the above passage :— " It would be a curious study to trace the history of Irish family names. For the first three From so large a mingling of Celtic element, even in the exclusive Protestant colony, had resulted the very marked Irish character which was noticed, though not with complacency, by Knglisli writers of that period ; and to this character the cold, dry, and narrow Marquis of Buck- ingham was altogether abhorrent." In truth, the English in general are abhorrent to the Irish character, and vice versa. And, speaking of the growth of the Protestant colony, Mr. Mitchel says, elsewhere: — "Their numbers had been largely increased, partly by English settlers coming to enjoy the plunder of the forfeited estates, and very much by conversions, or pretended conversions, of Catholics who had recanted their faith to save their property or their position in society, and Avbo generally altered or disguised their family names when these had too Celtic a sound."' In fact, by the end of the eighteenth century, throughout the whole population of Ireland the characteristics of the Celt predominated. Even the most thorough partisans of English suiDremacy. even the most bigoted and inveterate foes of Catholic emancipation, shewed features of national character very different indeed from those of the English type. Thus, then, there existed in those days a strongly-marked national character common to the universal Irish people, sprung though they were from various stocks. In spite of gradual changes of habits, this national character still sur- vives. But as, in speaking of the external aspect of the island, I maintained that, along with the general characteristics of Irish scenery • to be found; in a gi eater or less degree, in most parts of theisland, each province, or even each county, has peculiar featiu-es of its own; and even within these smaller tracts the variety of scenery is sometimes endless and mar- vellous beyond expectation," — so, in addi- tion to the general characteristics of our people, the Irishman of each district or locality has more or less peculiar features of his own, both physical and moral. In some parts the original Celtic blood is very little modified by that of the subse- quent races of invaders. In some districts centuries after the Norman invasion under Henry II , the movement was quite in an opposite direction, and De Burshs became .MacWilli .ms; De Eerm ug- hams, .MacFeorais ; rhe Fitzurses, MacMabons ; and Norman barons became chiefs of clans, forgot both French and English, i-ode without stirrups, and kept the upper lip unshaven." 2-54 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. the Danish blood strongly asserts its pre- sence, in some the Norman, in some t!ie Saxon. As the degrees of admixture vary, so do the qualities of the people ; and even counties almost purely Celtic differ more or less in the characteristics of their inhabitants. Remarkable, indeed, are the varieties to be found in the Irish cha- racter as it displays itself in the different locahties of the isle. The stalwart, Roman-featured, stern to strangers, re- served but, at bottom, warm-hearted Tipperary man ; the lithe-formed, subtle, and fiery Celt of Cork and Kerry; the hardy, much-enduring, naturally cour- teous and hospitable Celt of Coimaught. ever clinging tenaciously to the customs and traditions and language of his fore- fathers; the man of Leinster, with an admixture in his veins of almost equal proportions of Danish and Norman and Saxon blood, the old Celtic blood, how- ever, still preponderating; the sturdy, independent "Black Northern," with a large element of the " canny Scot" in his character, — all these varieties of the Irish race, while they have a certain bi'oad familj- resemblance to each other, at the same time boast, each of them, strongly- marked individuaHsms. Of the changes that have gradually taken place in our manners and customs since the days when O'Connell Avas winning his forensic laurels, one of the most striking is the passing aAvay of the race of " fire-eaters," as the Irish duellists were called. No doubt a similar chnnge has taken place in all other civilised countries ; but as duels were probably of more frequent occurrence, and certainly more extraordinary in Ireland than in any other country, the change in our national habits seems more remarkable than the similar changes elsewhere. 1 shall here give the reader one or two sketches of the whimsical duels and duel- lists characteristic of our country in those times. There lived then in the county Carlow a magnificent old gentleman of high birth and splendid fortune, styled " King Bagenak" He reigned despotically enough at his place, called Dunleckny, but at the same time dispensed his hospitalities with the most generous profusion. His cellar was stocked with the richest and rarest wines, his dogs were good, his horses thoroughbread. Visitors fond of hunt- ing, but unprovided with hunters of their own, could always reckon on being mounted superbly at Dunleckny. It is said that Mr. Bagenal, when making the grand tour in his days of early manhood, received from the Grand-duke of Meck- lenburg-Strelitz, who was dazzled by his wealth and sj^lendour, an offer of the hand of his daughter, the Princess Char- lotte. Strange to say, "King Bagenal" of Dunleckny, refused to ally himself with the sovereign house of Mecklen- burg. Luckily for the lady, all kings were not so hard to be pleased, for sub- sequently King George the Third of England consoled the slighted fair one by making her queen of Great Britain and Ireland. In his old days, if high-lineaged dam- sels no longer smiled upon Mr. Bagenal, young men of rank bowed to his autho- rity on all subjects connected with drink- ing, hunting, and duelling. He delighted in holding forth, at his own table, on these congenial topics to the uprising generation. Nothing could be more paternal and benignant than his voice and manner when pouring forth the lessons of his sage experience to his admiring young disciples, somewhat in the following style : — "In truth, my young friends, it be- hooves a youth entering the world to make a character for himscK. Respect will only be accorded to character. A young man must shew his proofs. I am not a quarrelsome person — I never was. I hate your mere duellist; but experience of the world tells me that there are knotty points in life, of which the only solution is the saw-handled (By the way, he was fond of having .sazn-liamlles beside him on the dmner-table; after dinner he would tap a claret-cask with a bullet — of a truth, at one of the drinking-bouts of Dunleckny it wasn't quite safe for a guest " to shirk his drink.") " Rest upon your pistols, my boys. Occasions will arise in which the use of them is absolutely indispen- sable to character. A man, I repeat, must shew his proofs — in this world courage will, never be taken upon trust. I protest to heaven, my dear young friends, that I advise you exactly as I should advise my own son." Such were the moral precepts of the patriarch of Dunleckny to the ingenious youths who, as it were, sat at his feet for instruction. His suavity of manner on these occasions was perfection itself. The THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 9r); mildness of Lambro, M^ho, as Lord Byron tells us, " Was tbe milrlest-nia,nner'd man That ever scuttled ship or cut a throat," was as nothing to " King liagenal's." But the master of Dunleckny was not one of those sliams who preach one thing and practise another. liis action corre- sponded to a nicety with his theory of life, as the foUowng incident will demon- strate : — A stranger, apparently very wealthy, purchased a pi-operty and settled in the neighbourhood of Dunleckny. Some doubt arose in the minds of the gentry around as to whether they should call on the new-comer. "King Bagenal" was consulted as an authority infallible on such points. He advised that, before deciding what course they should adopt, it was in the first place necessary to find out whether the stranger were a true gentleman. To guide those who sought him as their oracle, he took it on himself to settle this important question. An opportunity of testing the stranger's title to call hmiself "gentleman" soon pre- sented itself. Some of his pigs invaded the territory of the old despot of Dun- leckny and rooted up a bed of flowers. His majesty, filled with fury, ordered his obedient henchmen to crop their ears and amputate their tails. He next sent both ears and tails to the owner of the intrusive swine, with a delicate hint that his own ears were in jeopardy, and that it was, upon the whole, as well for him that nature hadn't supplied him with a tail. " jSTow," quoth the sagacious old " king," " if he le really a gentleman, he must burn powder after such a message as that ! " Audio! just as "Iving Bagenal" had anticipated, the gentleman, being a gentle- man, sent hun a hostile message on the instant, fully resolved to wreak vengeance for the lost tails of his dishonoured pigs. Bagenal eagerly accepted the chal- lenge, stipulating that, on account of his advanced age (he was then ahnost seventy- nine years old) and gouty limbs, he should be permitted to fight sitting in his arm- chair, and tliat, as he was no longer able to rise early in the morning, the duel should take place later than noon. "Time was," sighed the veteran, "that I would have risen before daybreak to fight at sunrise, but we can't do these things at seventy-eight Well, well, heaven's wUl be done ! " At the appointed time the lord of Dun- leckny and the lord of the outraged pigs met and fought, like "good men and true." The arm of Bagenal's chair was shattered by his antagonist's ball, which never touched the old "king." On the other hand, Bagenal wounded his .anta- gonist. That nigiit, at Dunleckny, tlie carousal and the jollity "grew fast and furious." "Wlien, after dinner, the un- broached claret-cask was brouglit into the dining-room,, be sure the stout old host performed his customary feat of tapping it with a pistol-bullet. As soon as his wounded antagonist and neighbour became convalescent — as the ordeal of battle had established his claims to be considered a gentleman be- yond all further dispute or cavil — the old "king" ordered his carriage and called on him. The county families lost no time in following his example. In truth, duelling had como to be a nuisance in Ireland. All public men — politicians and lav/yers alike — had to fight, on tlie shortest notice, for any or no reason at all. We have seen G rattan engaged in a duel. That was not his only encounter of the kind. Curran fought several. Flood "killed his man." Before long we shaU see O'Connell him- self "killing his man." Before he made his final resolve to abstain from duelling altogether, he had other ''aliau's of honour" on his hands. Elections, how- ever, which then sometimes lasted for weeks, were the great scenes where the- skill and courage of "fighting counsel" were displayed. The candidates, too, would occasionally meet to exchange shots ; but it was absolutely necessary that their counsel, whatever their know- ledge of the law of elections might be, should at least be gentlemen of " fire- eating" prochvities. Bully Egan, who did a great electioneering business, is said by some to have fought no less than fourteen duels. This sort of thing lasted far into the present centuiy. At a Clare election, lOng after the Union, one of these usually belligerent barristers, Mr. Tom O'M , astonished a friend by his pacific demeanour. "Why, Tom," said the friend, "you are wondrously quiet. How does it happen that you haven't kicked up some shindy?" " Because my client hasn't paid me my fighting price." coolly re»>lied this Swiss of the bar. 256 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. Probably the last Irish election duel between opposing counsel was that be- tween C'asserly and Baker, at one of the Mayo elections, where Robert Dillon Browne and Patrick Somers, two of Dan's ,'tail."* as his parliamentary followers were nicknamed, stood for that county on the liberal side. In the early period of the election things were all going agauist Browne and .Somers. When they met in counsel over a bottle at night, Browne, who w^as a clever wag, deter- mined to play on the maudlin -patriotic feelings of his counsel, Casserly. '-It's enough to make a man sick," said he, with well-acted weariness and disgust; " there is no such thing as real patriotism remaining in Ireland any longer." "What do you mean, Mr. Browne?" said Casserly, in bewilderment — he was, hs sailors say, '-three sheets to the wind- ward" by this tune — " I'm a real patriot, Mr. Bro^vne." And then he brought his fist down heavily on the table. "Where's the use," said Browne, "of talking that sort of bombastic stuff? If you ivere a patriot, you wouldn't let Baker have it all his own way, and humbug you to your face the way he 's doing." " What 's that you say Baker's doing? humbugging me to my face ? " "I say lie's putting his finger in your eye," cries Browne, with a gesture of vehe^nent emphasis. "]Mi-. Browne," says Casserly, rising excitedly and stretching forth his hand, "give me your hand. You'll see to- morrow morning whether Baker — and be d — d to him! — can put his finger in my eye ! " They separated, Casserly in a high fever of pot-valour. But.it wasn't all pot- valour. When the fumes of Bacchus had evaporated, there remained a residuum of genuine combativeness and unreasoning wrath ; for at the hustings the next morn- ing, the moment the election proceedings were about to recommence, without pre- face, explanation, or apology, Casserly started to his feet, shook his list at Baker, and roared out, "Baker, you're a scoun- drel, and the counsel of a scoundrel ! " Immediately Baker's blood was up; he intimated to Casserly in plain terms that he 'dmake him smell powder for his wanton insult. * Pi'obably this nickname was applied on account of Dac's claims to Celtic chieftainship. The imme- diiite followers or suite of a Highland Scotch chief ■were called his " tail." The sequel may easily be guessed — how, in the course of the day, Baker sent a hostile message; how Casserly was only too glad to give him gentlemanly satisfaction; how they fought, Casserly hitting Baker in the hip, giving the surgeons a neat job, and Baker, to the best of my recollection, a permanent limp. The moment he hit his antagonist, Casserly turned to Bi'owne, who (I am almost sure) was his second, and said, with a peculiar leer, "Dichi't I do that pretty well, Mr. Browne? " It is hardly necessary to add, that after this exploit tlio affairs of Browne and Somers w^ent on swimmingly. The in- terests of their opponents fell into con- fusion and collapsed — no tallies ready at the proper time. Voters weren't brought up to the scratch ; no one to keep up the legal quibblings and wranglings. Hence- forward the Conservatives were nowhere at the pole. It was all but a walk over the course. In fine, Messrs. Browne and Somers were declared duly elected. At the county Wexford election, in 1810, the rival candidates, Alcock and Colclough, fought a duel which ended tragically. Alcock had threatened Col- clough with vengeance if he should dare to accept the votes of one of his friend's tenants. " Receive them at your peril ! " said he. Colclough replied with a spirit, that " he wouldn't be bullied into refusing them." In the duel which followed, and at whicli a crowd (including many magistrates) was present, Colclough was shot through the heart. Of course, Alcock was returned for the county. At the next assizes, however, he was tried for the murder of Colclough; but the ■judge. Baron Smith, charged warmly in his favour, and the jury acquitted hun. This outrageous state of society was the result of many causes. The partisans of the Ascendency were unrestrained and irresponsible — more like a lawless garrison than peaceable citizens; they had come into the country by violence, they might be driven out by violence; tlieir position was insecure, conseqviently they were chronicallj^ restless and turbulent. The lax principles and dissolute morals of the viceregal court fostered this riotous and diseased state of society. The Catholics, on the other hand, down-trodden and esj)ecially liable to insult, were compelled to resort to the pistol as their readiest means of self-assertion and of maintaining THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 257 some share of self-respect. Indeed, it was often their sole protection against the insolence of the Ascendency bigots. Besides, a brave people, having no legiti- mate career open to their valour, are sure to become nervously sensitive about the point of honour, and in all cases where their bravery may be called in question they will seek to prove themselves brave by engaging in any and every eccentric and irregular adventure that may chance to turn up. Gradually tliey will feel themselves at home even in a tavern riot and street rowdyism — in disorders of all sorts. I have seen it stated somewhere that Irish duels began to be more frequent after the disbanding of the portion of James the Second's army that remained at home when the treaty of Limerick ter- minated the Williamite wars. Numbers of tlie ex-officers of the Irish army had high pretensions, ■with poor means to support them. In their fallen fortunes they were probably inclined sometimes to exaggerate their claims to consideration. Unreason- ably sensitive to anything approaching a slight, naturally they would gradually become cjuarrelsome and prone to insist on the arbitrament of the pistol. All tliese causes, acting in combincltion with the admitted excitability of the Irish race, are perhaps enough to account for the terrible frecjuency of duels in Ireland up to a recent period. If space permitted, in addition to the foregoing sketches, I would here give the reader many other curious and grotesque incidents (also some tragic ones) in the history of the famous duels and duellists of the past century and the early part of the present. I would relate how ingeniously ■• Fighting Fitzgerald" (he was finally hanged for his share in a rescue) forced the members of Brookes's club in Londoix to elect him unanimously, much against their grain ; how Brian Maguire, self-styled descendant of kings, used. to entertain himself and friends with- the exciting pastime of snuffing with a pistol-bullet a caudle held in his wife's hand; how at other times he used to lean out of a window and spit on the heads of the passers by; how another of his kingly enjojTuents was to stand at a street- crossing, where the scavengers had collected a dirt-heap, and tumble into tliis pile of mud any crosser who would be unreasonable and foolhardy enough not to step aside and plunge knee-deep in it quietly; how, in Carrick-on-Suir, another hero of the same stamp used to parade the streets, shouting defiantly to all comers', "WJio dare say boo?" I would also fain relate the varying for- tunes of the showy and audacious "Tiger" Roche, Sir Boyle Eoche's younger brother; how he fought a number of duels ; how he distinguished himself by his desperate valour as a volunteer in a storming-party; how he was ignominiously driven out of the regiment, with which he had so gallantly served, on a false accusation of theft; how he sought; redress in vain, and was forsaken and scorned by all his acquaint- ances; how publicly, on the parade- ground, he horsewhipped the colonel of his regiment; how on his death-bed, seized with terror and remorse, the mis- creant, who had clandestinely placed stolen property in Bochc's trunk or portmanteau, confessed his perfidy, and vindicated "Tiger" Roche's innocence; how a reaction in Roche's favour set in, and he was everywhere feted as the lion of the day; how he earned the gratitude of the citizens of Dublin by suppressing the " pinkindindies," a class of young riotous scamps, who were generally sons of persons of good social position, and who used to scour the streets of Dublin late o' nights, to the terror of sober citizens — for, haviug chopped off the extremities of their scabbards, so that the points of their rapiers should protrude, they would prick those whom they met in the streets on their way home till their blood flowed (These midnight sons of riot icere not unlite the courtiers of Nero in the days of old imperial Rome; Prince Henry of England and his boon companions in London of the fifteenth century; the Roariny Boys, Bona- ventors, Bravadoes, Qnarterors, etc., of London in the days of the Scottish Solomon, James the First; tJie Mohaivks, bloods, etc., of the same capital and of later generations ; and many more hordes of night-roisterers in various countries and ages. Perhaps the Hoodlums of California and other American, roivdies of the pi'esent day are more or less analogotis.); how he ran into debt, and became for a long time the inmate of a debtors' prison; how, in that dismal abode, his nature apparently changed so utterly that he lost aU heart and. courage, nay, became so abject and cowed as to let some one kick him — 258 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. wh-ereupon, instead of resenting the insult, he sat down and cried piteously; now, when he recovered his freedom, his old swaggering nature and bearing came back, and he fought aud bullied as of old; how, playing billards one day, he insulted the whole company present, saying contemptuously, " There aren't above two gentlemen in the room except myself;" and, when some friend asked him "how he Jiad dared insult a whole roomfid," replied, with humorous shrewd- ness, " Oh! don't you see that every man in the room thoughl liunself one of the two excepted ? " how, after all this, he had to undergo fresh trials and dis- appointments of heart aud fortune, and, filially died in a miserable enough con- dition. So " ends this stsange eventful history." AH these and more particulars I would fain relate ; but want of space forbids me. Those who desire to read of the adventures of the Iiish duellists in detail, must have recourse to other works. In none will they find more amusingly-related in- cidents of this kind than in the inimitable Personal Sketches of the humorous Sir Jonah Barrington. This Irish duelling, however, as I have already said, is now a thing of the past, a custom utterly done ?A\&Y with. The extent to which it was carried in the days of our progenitors, is admitted by all to have been an intoler- able evil ; but a few leading men — some of whom, as Wellington and Thomas Moore, were of widely-dissimilar ways of thinking on most subjects — have aj^par- ently coincided in the opinion that, on the other hand, the total aboHtion of duelling was not without its own pecidiar disadvantages ; that by it the tone of society was lowered; that at the least a salutary check on discourtesy was removed. Another feature of the old times, now happily passed away, «was the habit of 'vvild, exaggerated conviviality wliich pre- vailed all over Ireland. The days that closed the last century were the days of " Hell -fire clubs" and outrageous orgies. Some of these inordinate drinking-bouts also are described, with infinite humom' and relish, in the mu'th-provoking pages of Barrington. But it must not be hastily concluded that the bacchanalianism of those times was all gross and miintel- lectual. At the festal gatherings of the "Monks of the Screw," for example, the choicest dehcacies of the mind — ^wit^ hmnour, fancy, racy anecdote, and elo- quence — sparkled around that table, sur- rounded by one of the most talented assemblages of men ever seen on earth. The fact that much of the good-fellow- ship of the times resembled the "Noctes Ambrosianse" of Blackwood comes out exquisitely into that charming apos- trophe in Curran's speech for Judge Johnson, where he turns for a moment aside from his main argument, and, with gracefulest eloquence and pathos, appeals to the old friendship that had subsisted between the judge. Lord Avonmore, and himself, which, however, had recently been slightly interrupted. I cannot refrain from quoting the entire delicious passage : — " But I cherish, too, the consolatory hope that I shall be able to tell them that I had an old and learned friend» whom I would put above all the sweep- ings of the hall,* who was of a different opinion; who had derived liis ideas of civil liberty from the purest fountains of Athens and of Home ; who had fed the youthful vigour of his studious mind with the theoretic knowledge of their wisest philosophers and statesmen; and who had refined that theory into the quick and exquisite sensibility of moral instinct by contemplating the practice of their most illustrious examples — by dvv^eUing- on the sweet-souled piety of Cimon, on the anticipated Chistianity of Socrates, on the gallant and pathetic patriotism of Epaminondas, on that pure austerity of Fabricius, whom to move from his integrity would have been more difficult than to have pushed the sun from liis course. "I would add, that if he had seemed to hesitate, it' was but for a moment; that his hesitation was like the passing cloud that floats across, the morning sun and hides it from the view, and does so for a moment hide it, by involving the spectator without even approaching the face of the kmiinary. And this soothing^ hope I draw from the dearest and tenderest recollections of my life — from the remembrance of those Attic nights and those refections of the gods which we have partaken with those admu-ed and respected and beloved companions who> have gone before us, ovei* whose ashea * Westminster HaU. THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 259 the most precious tears of Ireland have been shed." (^Here Lord Avovmore could not refrain from bursting into tears.) " Yee, my good lord, I see you do not forget them; I see their sacred forms passing in sad review before your memory; I see your pained and softened fancy recalling those happy meetings, where the innocent enjoyment of social mirtli became expanded into the nobler warmth of social virtue, and the horizon of the board became enlarged into the horizon of man ; where the swelling heart conceived and communicated the pure and generous purpose, where my slenderer and younger taper imbibed its borrowed light from the more matured and redun- dant fountain of yours. Yes, my lord, we can remember those nights, without any other regret than that they can never more return ; for " ' We spent them not in toys, or lust, or wine, But search of deep philosophy, Wit. eloquence, aud poesy_— Artswliich I loved, for they', my friend, were thine.' " We learn from a note in the Life of €^urran,'bj\us Son, that "Lord Avonmore, in whose breast political resentment was easily subdued, by the same noble tender- ness of feeling which distinguished the late Mr. •Fox upon a more celebrated occasion, could not withstand this appeal to his heart. At this period there was a suspension of intercourse between him and Mr. Curran; but the moment the court rose, his lordship sent for his friend, and threw himself into his arms, declaring that unworthy artifices had been used to separate them, and that they should never succeed in future." Doubtless, at the jovial carousals of the Irish wits of those days the story-telling faculty, for which the Irish have always been remarkable, shone conspicuously. Vv'e see how admirably O'Connell himself was endowed with this gift. The Personal Sketches of Sir Jonah Barrington give lis ample assurance that that hvmaorous knight must have been a dehghtful after- dinner companion. In the novels of Lever and Maxwell we have an image more or less vivid of the old jolly, convivial circles in which ludicrous and .graphic •sketches flew around in rapid succession. Sir William Temple, who lived in Ireland for some time dming the days of the Commonwealth, in the seventeenth century, thus refers in his essays to the fondness of the old race, at all times, for story-telling: — "The great men of their septs, among the many offices of their establishment which continued always in the same family, had not only a physician and a poet, but a tale-teller." I shall take from the long and able Ufe of 0''Connell, published by MuUany, of I'arliament Street, Dublin, and written, I believe, by Christopher Manus O'Keefe, the following picture of the sort of beings the Irish Catholic aristocracy were during the latter part of the eighteenth century and the earlier portion of the present. It will help us the better to understand some of the difficulties O'Connell had to contend against in the earlier years of his pohtical career, of which I am about to give a rapid review in the next chapter : — " The cause " (of their heing a drag on the struggle of the Catholics for civil and religious freedoin) "is to be found in the gross ignorance which incapacitated them for political exertion. The son of a peer, trained in the wooded solitudes of his remote estate to pursue game, was less enlightened, less intellectually developed, than the son of the citizen, trained to pursue trade in the busy thoroughfares of a crowded town. The young citizen was qualified for ' freedom's battle ' by the intelligence which was, in his collision with men, necessarily struck out; while the young peer, who vegetated in a dozing, di'eaming, Lethean state of half-conscious- ness in the country, was qualified for the fetters of the Government. When the two came together they could not harmonise. Perhaps the Catholic peer, at the time when the Catholic cause was in its in- fancy, was the veriest slave under the British crown. The Catholic farmer could vote for a parliamentary candidate when the Catholic peer was destitute of the elective franchise. * * * He (the peer) was eligible neither as candidate nor constituent, elector nor elected. This was the state of the Catholic peer when the first links Avere struck off Catholic chains — when, in 1777, the privilege was granted to Catholics of taking long leases of land. At tliat time two men eiutirely destitute of aristocratic dignity, but gifted with great courage and high intelligence. Dr. O'Connor of Baliinagare — ' the man who told a lie ' — and Dr. Ciirrie, the HGO THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. author of the History of the Civil Wars in Ireland, Avere the champions and agitators of the Catholic cause. At that time, too, the influence of Lord Trimleston and some of his brethren in the peerage was industriously exerted to thwart and paralyse the beneficent exer- tions of Drs. Currie and O'Connor. The Catholic aristocracy then, as ever, were found obstinately opposed to those bold liroceediiigs which contributed to lighten or break the cliains of the Catholics. This was not attributable exclusively to the prejudice of class: it was attributable to isolation from human converse, the solitude in which the peer was entombed; it originated in the penal laws, which shut him ufJ in his castle and shut him out from the world. Generally educated abroad, the solitary peer, of course, spoke French, or Spanish, or German, without haying an opportunity of thoroughly mastering English; and from these two languages, blended with some Irish, he formed a conglomerate tongue — a piebald medley of three dialects. It is no exaggeration to say that a Catholic peer and an officer of the Irish Brigade spoke a jargon unintelligible to the rest of mankind — more hiliiiguis CanusinV (after the manner of the douhlc-tongued native if Camisium); "and this extraordinary language Avas one of the extraordinary productions of the penal code. The Catholic peer was too proud to mingle with the peasantry, and the Protestant aristocracy were too prejudiced to as- sociate with him. Ilis brother-peer of the Established Church passed him silently on the road with a high pro- tective bow. The Catholic lord and the parish priest were sometimes asked to dinner, especially before Lady-Day, that the tenants might be in good humour when the rent was collecting; or when the brother of the Catholic peer happened to be on a visit from the Continent, and the young Protestant ladies were solicitous to see the tall cap or the hussar uniform, the long sword or the brilliant cross of St. Louis or Maria Theresa sparkling on the breast of the Catholic Count in the military service of some despotic power." In the amusing Reminiscences of Michael Kelly, the opera-singer and composer, which, if I remember rightly,were arranged by Theodore Hook, there is a very graphic sketch of an officer of the Irish Brigade, that illustrates the " diversified mosaic " of languages referred to in the preceding- extract: — "Walking," says Kelly, -'on the parade the second morning of my arrival in Cork, ]Mr. Townsend of the Correspondent neAvspaper pointed out a very fine-looking elderly gentleman stand- ing at the club-house door, and told me that he was one of the most eccentric men in the world. His name was O'Reilly; he had served many years in the Irish Brigade in Germany and Prussia, whei'e he had been distinguished as an excellent officer. Mr. ToA\aisend added: ' We reckon him here a great epicure, and he piques himself on being a great judge of the culinary art as well as of wines. His good-nature and pleasanti-y have introduced him to the best society, particularly among the Roman Catholics, Avhere he is ahvays a Avelcome guest: He speaks French, German and Italian, and constantly, while speaking English Avith a determined Irish brogue, mLxes all those languages in every sentence. It is im- material to him whether the person he is talking to understands him or not — on he goes, stop him Avho can.' "I was presented to him," continues Kelly, and no sooner had the noble captain shaken me by the hand than he exclaimed : — '■• Bon jour, my cher Mick! Je suis bien aise de voiis voir (Good-day, my dear Mick! I ayn very glad to see you), as we say in France. An hhfhuil tu go maith* J'etois fache (/ was ifexed) that I missed meeting you when I was last in Dublin ; but I was obliged to go to the county Galway to see a brother-officer who formerly served with me in Gei-many — as herlich ein Kerl, as we say in Germany, as ever smelt gun- powder. Dair mo laimh — II est brave comme son epee (as fearless as his sword). Now tell me how go on your brother Joe and your brother Mark ; your brother Pat, poor fellow ! lost his hfe, I knoAv, in the East Indies — but c' est la fortune de la guerre (it is the fortune ofivar), and he died avec V honnenr (with honour). Your sister Mary, too — how is she? Dair a marreann; by my word, she is as good a hearted, kind creature as ever lived; but, ent7-e nous, soit dit (between us, let it be said), she is rather plain, ma non e bella, quel cV e bella, e bella quel che place, as we say in Italian ' "'Now, captain,' said I, 'after the flattering encomiums you have bestowed ' I hope the reader can translate Captain O'Reilly's Irish and German. I regret to say, / can't. THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 261 on my sister's beauty, may I ask how you became so well acquainted with my family concerns ? ' " ' Parbleu.'* my dear Mick,' said the captain; well I may bo, for sure your mother and my mother were sisters.' •'On comparing notes, I found that such was the fact. When I was a boy, and before I left Dublin for Italy, I remember my mother often mentioning a nephew of hers of the name of O'Reilly, who had been sent to Germany when qiiite a lad, many years before, to a relative of his father, who was in the Irish Brigade at Prague. Young O'Reilly entered the regiment as a cadet; he afterwards went into the Prussian service, but my mother lieard no more of him. The captain told me, furthermore, that he had been cheated, some years before, out of a small property which his father left him in the county Meath, by a man whom he thought his best friend. ' However,' said the captain, • I had my satisfaction, by calling liim out and putting a bullet through his hat; but, nevertheless, all the little property that was left me is gone. But, girtce an del (thaulcs to Heaven)! 1 have never sullied my re- putation nor injured mortal; and for that " the gods will take care of Cato." In all my misfortunes, cousin, I have never parted with the family sword, which was never dra^vvn in a dii'ty cause ; and there it hangs now in a little cabin which I have got in the coimty Meath. Should ever Freddy Jones discard me, I will end my days in I'isposo e pace (in repose and peace) ^vith the whole universal world.' " Freddy Jones, nicknamed " Buck Jones," was the proprietor ■ of the Theatre Royal, in Crow Street, Dublin. He took such a fancy to Captain O'Reilly that he made him his confidant and deputy-manager for life The cap- tain's finding consolation for all his misfortunes in the fact that he has " never parted with the family sword," reminds one of what Sir Lucius O'Trigger says to Bob Acres, in Sheridan's comedy of "The Rivals:" — "For though the mansion - house and dirty acres have slipped through my fingers, I thank -Heaven our honour and the family i)ictures are as fresh as ever.' " It woiUd appear that it was this Captain •An exclamation equivalent to "Zoundsl" in EiJirlish. O'Reilly who uttered the ban mot that makes the point of the following oft-repeated anecdote. The captain happened to be in the streets of Clonmel once when the gallant Tipperary militia were marching out of the town in all the " pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war," with their colonel (Bagwell, if I remember rightly, was his name) — whose father, originally a miller, had amassed a large fortune — at their head, in all the glory of gold lace and feathers and novel authority and self-importance. The veteran of the " far foreign fields" sharply scanned the raw, undeeded militia and their chief, and then, with a grim, ironical smile, exclaimed, — "By the god of war! here comes jNIarshal Sacls (Saxe), and the flour of Tipperary at his back." The glory acquired by the Irish military adventurers of the eighteenth century in the various continental services had a large share in rousing and elevating afresh the spirit of the old Irish race, so long and terribly depressed by the debasing influences of the penal code. Those gallant and renowned exiles pre- served the evidences of their Irish origin with pride, and even ostentatiously dis- played them. Their generous remem- brance of the land of their fathers reacted favourably on the Irish at home. We have seen how the fame of his uncle, General Count O'Connell, roused the latent spark of ambition in the soul of our hero. Many old famihes, feeling themselves re-ennobled by the glorious deeds of their kinsmen abroad, prefixed once more to their names the O's and Macs which they had long dropped, and began again to claim descent from the ancient warriors and chiefs of Innisfail. There cannot be the shghtest doubt that our military adventurers were held in the highest estimation in all the courts and camps of Christendom. Even wiiat I have already related of O'Connell s uncle, and the passages quoted from Lord Macaulay in the chapter on the penal laws, are conclusive on this pomt. But a hundred facts demonstrate the truth of my assertion. It is even stated that Henry O'Donnell of Murresk, in Mayo, received in marriage, in 1754, a near relative of the Empress Maiia Theresa, descended from an Emperor of Greece, John Cantacuzene, who wore the imperial purple from 1347 to 1355. " Great as were unquestionably " — I am 262 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. again quoting from O'Keefe's biography — "the merits of such men as soldiers abroad, they invariably proved blundering politicians at home. Their politics were as eccentric as their dialect. The manner in which Wolfe Tone speaks of the oflBcers of the Irish Brigade — ^who still lingered in France whilst he was nego- tiating with the French Government to relieve his country from oppression — shews the irreconcilable difference which grew up between the mind of the exile ■vyho battled for despotism abroad, and the patriot who struggled for liberty at home. Chevalier MacCarthy was a specimen of this class. The Catholic cause was not advanced by these men, iftor by their kinsmen or brothers, the Catholic peers. The talent, and courage, and manliness, and wisdom of O'Connor and Currie produced the long leases, which was the first step on the road to libertj^ Dr. O'Connor prevailed on Brooke, the Protestant author of GuMaviis VaM, to write the celebrated letters which contributed to procure that relaxa- tion. Brooke supphed the letters ; Lord, the printer, published them. The Catho- lic aristocracy would not muster money enough to compensate Lord. Where was the patriotism of the Catholic aris- tocracy then? Charles O'Connor suc- coured Brooke ; the merchants of Dublin contributed money to pay him ; the Catholic aristocracy actually refused to subscribe. The services of this printer, named Lord, and of John Keogh, a Dublin mercer, outweighed thft public services of all the ancestry of the Catho- lic nobility from the time of Strongbow to the days of Daniel O'Connell — that Catholic nobility, we mean, who, because they could not prevail on the people to accept the vetoistical Relief Bill of 1813, abandoned the Catholic Board." The above remarks are, I think, in the main just. There may, indeed, be here and there a slight shade of exaggeration. Of the veto I shall have to speak before long. While the character of the Catho- lic aristocracy was thus deficient in the elements of true nobility, that of the Protestant aristocracy, with certain shin- ing exceptions, was in its way- eq;ially ignoble. It was licentious and corrupt. We have seen ample proof of this already in the course of the present narrative. In truth, the whole body of the nobles and gentry, both Catholic and Protes- tant, was selfish, unpatriotic, and mean^ without a true regard for law or justice While the reckless prodigality of some, who kept open house, and allowed idle, good-for-nothing younger brothers and troops of poor cousins to the remotest degree to eat, drink, and hunt all the year round — in short, to live entirely at their expense; while all this for a time won them the praise of being possessors of both " liberal hand and open heart," in the long run it often compelled them to beggar their families, defraud their creditors, ' ' rack-rent " their tenants, hoj^e- lessly encumber their estates, and betray and sell the most vital interests of their country. In such an unscrupulous," devil- may-carish," profuse, embarrassed, drink- ing, fighting, lawless state of society, it is not wonderful that even a class of smuggl- ing gentry arose. If the spendthrifts, who were losing their fortunes, sometimes con- trived to stock their cellars with wines duty free, so some thrifty men, who were bent on adding to their lands and accumulating money, occasionally knew how to make their profit by contraband traffic. Some of the shrewd, rising Catholics, who had turned all their energies to the acquisition of property, succeeded in doing so. I may again briefly refer to this subject of gentle- manly smuggling, when I come to notice the death of O'Connell's venerable uncle, Maurice, alias " Old Hunting-cap." I shall now give two or three anecdotes to illustrate the coiTuptness and absence of all principle, combined with a sort of jovial cynicism, that characterised so many members of the aristocracy in the days of which I am speaking. Doubtless one might find similiar traits in members of the Irish aristocra.cy even to-day ; but they were much more frequently to be found in the years preceding and im- mediately following the close of the last century. Lord M y (MusJcerry?) was a singular specimen of the Irish nobility. His title had been acquired by the judi- cious sale of some parhamentary votes. He was always fond of repeating, that a gentleman could never Uve upon his rents— "a man who depended upon his rents had money upon only two days in the year, the 25th of March and the 29th of September." Lord M y, then, made it the supreme object and effort THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 263 of Ms life to ''put money in his purse" every day of the year. When Lord Kerry's house in Stephen's Green, Dublin, was advertised for sale, it so happened that a lady of the name of Keating was anxious to puschase a pew in St. Anne's Church belonging to it. Owing to some misconception or other, Mrs. Keatuig got the notion fixed in her head that this pew belonged to Lord M y. In consequence of this belief, she thought proper to call on Lord M y and to offer to become the piirchaser of the pew. " My dear madam," quoth his lordship, looking somewhat surprised, '■ I have not got any pew, as far as I am aware, in St. Anne's Church." " Oh, my lord, I know very well that you have ; and, if you have got no objec- tion, I am most anxious to purchase it." This model nobleman made no further difficulty. A large sum was forthwith agreed on as the price of the pew, and, that she might render her bargain as binding as possible, Mrs. Keating got the agreement of sale drawn out in the most stringent form by an attorney. She paid Lord M y the money down ; and, on the ensuing Sunday, she repaired to St. Anne's • and marched statelily to the pew; magnificently arraj^ed in rustling silks and brocades. To her utter amaze- ment and indignation, the beadle refused to let her into the pew. "My good man," quoth the lady in an excited manner, " this pew is mine." " Yours, madam? " "Yes; I have bought it from Lord M y." " Madam," replied the beadle, "this is the Kerry pew; I do assure you, Lord M — — y never had a pew in this church." Here was a precious discovery ! Mrs. Keatuig saw plainly at once that she had been shamefully and abominably cheated. Next day she hastened to Lord M 's house to try whether she could get him to refund her money. "My lord," she began., "I have come to you to say that the pew in St. Anne's '' " My dear madam," said this admir- able and considerate nobleman, inter- rupting her, "I'll seU you twenty more pews if you've a fancy for them! ' "Oh! my lord, you are facetious. I have come to acquaint you it was all a mistake; you never had a pew in that church." " Ilah ! so I think I told you at first," said his lordship, with a winning smile. '■' And I trust, my lord," resumed ^Irs. Keating, " you will refimd me the money I paid you for it." "The money!" said the peer, with a courtly smile. "Really, my dear madam, I am very sorry to be obliged to say, that's quite impossible; the money is gone long ago." " But, my lord," said the lady, rather innocently, " your lordship's character!" " Oh ! that 's gone too, long ago," cries Lord M y, laughing heart?ily, with a sort of good-natured carelessness. Poor Mrs. Keating had no remedy; she was fain content herself with her loss and lesson as best as she might. I must tell one more anecdote of this exemplary nobleman's financial opera- tions. He never let slip an opportunity that promised him the smallest chance of feathering his nest, ;;er fas aid nefas (riglitfully or wronf/fuUy). He was colonel of a militia regiment, and, in the teeth of all right and precedent, made a practice of selling the commissions and putting the money in his own pocket. The viceroy was determined to bring him to account for this monstrous abuse of his position, and, to do so with greater effect, invited his lordship to mee t all the other colonels of mditia regiments then quartered in Dublin. When the cloth was removed, and they were aU snugly seated over their wine, the Lord-lieutenant opened fire by saying that a statement involving a serious charge against the colonel of one of the militia regiments, had recently been made to him. This statement had given him the utmost pain — indeed, it seemed well nigh incredible ; but still it had been confidently asserted that the colonel in question had actually sold the commissions of his regiment. The whole company seemed stunned by this extraordinary announcement. All those conscious of having hands free from any such stains at once indignantly asserted their innocence. " I have never done anything of this sort," cries one. " I certainly never sold commissions," cries another. "Nor I;" "Nor I:" "Nor I," re- sounded on all sides. In short, every guest, save one, vehe- 264 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. meiitly disclaimed the imputation of being guilty of so corrupt a traffic. The excep- tion was Lord M y. Resolving to bi-azen the matter out, when all were once more silent, he said, with the most imperturbable coolness and the most thorough air of self -approval, " I always sell the commissions in my regiment." jSTaturally, all seemed thunderstruck at the cynical frankness of the old sinner's confession before the congregation of the brother-colonels and the viceroy. ' ' How can j'^^ou defend such a practice? " demanded the Lord-lieutenant. • "Oh! quite easily, my lord. Has not your Excellency constantly desired us to assimilate our regiments as much as possible to his troops of the line?" '• Why, yes, undoubtedly I said so." " Well," I'esponded Lord M y, his ■face sheathed in sevenfold brassiness, '* well, they sell the commissions in the line, and I thought that the best point at which to begin the assimilation!" After the story of the Union, it is superfluous to say that the method by which some of these nobles acquired their titles was in the highest degree disrepu- table. O'Connell, when some of these living libels on true nobility would insolently flaunt abroad their pompous and lying pretensions, and stand in the people's path, was always sure to wreak vengeance on them, by raking up the memories of their mean and corrupt origins, and placing them in grotesque and ludicrous contrast with their present parade of grandeur. One of these pre- tenders had originally been a wealthy merchant. As he amassed more and more money each day, he began to aspire after a place in the ranks of the aristocracy. At length he contrived to strike a bargain with the Irish minister that he should receive a title for the "consideration" of twenty thousand pounds. The patent was made out in due form, and the grub forthwith became a butterfly. The Government, on their part, felt the most blissful confidence that the new nobleman would scrupulously fulfil his share of the bargain. In their unsuspecting trustfulness they had never dreamed of asking payment beforehand. AVhen, however, six months had flown, and his loi'dsliip had apjDarently forgotten all about the price of his brand-new coronet, the Castle folks began to feel uneasy, and Mr. Secretary thought he might as well drop him a few confidential lines, just to remind him of their little bargain. If his lordship was somewhat slow in his payment, he made up for it by the promptness of his reply to the secretary's letter. His lordship was utterly aston- ished: he didn't know what the secretary meant — ^he to be a party to anything so corrupt as the sale or purchase of a peerage ! He could not help feeling indignant with the secretary for enter- taining such an injurious idea for one moment. In short, his indignation was such that he threatened, should the audacious and unconstitutional claim be repeated, to rise in his place in the House of Peers and move for the im- peachment of the minister. " The know- ing ones " were jockeyed. It was simply a neat ■' trick in trade " of the ex- merchcmt. Nothing was left for "the Castle " but "to grin and bear it." The Bruens of Carlo w were high and mighty county grandees in O'Connell's days. For all I know to the contrary, they are so at this very minute. How- ever, to borrow the words of that prince of witty satmsts, Alexander Pope — " Mark by what wretched steps their glory grows. From dirt and seaweed, as proud Venice rose." or, descending from poetic diction to plain prose, let us listen to O'Connell's matter-of-fact anecdote of the rise of old Bruen, the father of his contemporary, and bitter political opponent, that great county magnate. Colonel Bruen. '• Old Bruen," quoth O'Connell, at the dinner-table of the parish-priest of St. MuUins, in the county Carlo w — " Old Bruen started in life with extremely limited finances, and derived his wealth chiefly from successful and lucrative com- missariat contracts in America. He also got a contract for supplying coffins for the soldiers, who died very fast from too free a use of new rum. The coffin contract he turned to excellent account, by the novel device of making one coflin serve the defunct of a whole company. He had a sliding bottom to the coffin, Avhich was withdrawn when over the gratve, into which the deceased occupant then drop- ped, and was instantly earthed up, leaving the coffin quite available for future inter- ments. As the worthy contractor checked his own accounts, he is said to have availed himself of all his contracts to au THE LIFE OF DANIEL O'CONNELL. 265 extent which, in the present day, would be impossible, and which is almost in- credible." O'Connell used also to tell the follow- ing anecdote of the sort of military patronage wielded formerly by some of the great lords of Ireland. There was a Wexford elector, who had been promised patro)iage by a member of the Loftus family (the head of the Loftuses is the Marquis of Ely) in return for his vote. Now, this Wexi'oi'd elector had a son, whom he was most ambitious to see a sergeant of artillery Lord Loftus, on demanding this post for the young lad, was told that it was quite impossible to comply with his request, inasmuch as a previous service of six years was neces- sary to qualify a candidate for the post of sergeant in the artillery. -' Does it require six years' service to qualify him for a lieutenancy ? " demanded Lord Loftus. " Certainly not," was the answer. " Well, can't you make him a lieu- tenant, then?" rejoined my lord. " Wereupon," O'Connell used to add, laughing heartily as he would finish the stoiy, '• the fellow was made a lieutenant, for no better reason than just because he wasn't fit to be a sergeant!" However, it Avould not be fair or honest to describe all the gentry of those days as ignoble and corrupt. I have already quoted Mr. Mitchel's remark about the Union, in which he justly points out that, if there were unheard-of venality and baseness in the ranks of those lords and gentlemen who sat in the chairs of the House of Lords and on the benches of the House of Commons, there were likewise in the same ranks the loftiest examples of spotless and incor- ruptible integrity and honour. One of these true gentlemen — an aristocrat not merely from his social position, but by God Almighty's patent of nobility — was Mr. Shapland Carew, the member for the county Wexford. Lord Castlereagh dared to call on this high - souled gentleman to offer him a peerage and other more solid advantages as the price for his vote in favour of the Union. Of course, Mr. Carew spurned the bribe and the traitor to his country, who presumed to offer it. And, in doing so, he mdignantly ex- claimed — " I will expose your insolent offer in the House of Commons to-nightl I will get up in my place and charge you with the barefaced attempt to corrupt a legis- lator. " "Do so, if you wUl, '' Castlereagh coolly replied; "but if you do, / will immediately get up and contradict you in the presence of the House — I will declare, upon my honour, that you have uttered a falsehood ; and I shall follow up that de- claration by demanding satisfaction as soon as we are beyond the reach of the sergeant-at-arms ! " Carew ordered the nohle secretary to get out of his house as quickly as possible, if he Avished to escape being kicked down the door-steps by his foot- man. Castlereagh retired at once. How- ever, Mr. Carew did not think it advisable to denounce him that niglit in the House of Commons. The following profound and enhghtcned remarks by a famous French writer, G-ustave de Beaumont, ob O'Connell and the aristocracy, and tha hostile relations in which they stood towards each other during the greater portion of O'Connell's public r.areer, find their proper place here, for they assist us to comprehend some of the difficulties with which O'Connell had all through to struggle, but especially, perhaps, in the earlier part of his political life ; and it is with the opening stages of his career as an agitator that we shall have to deal in the next chapter. Gustave de Beaumont says : — "Whether O'Connell be considered asa revolutionist, a politician, an enthusiast, or the great leader of a party, in every case we are obliged to recognise his extraorduiary power: and what is especially remarkable in this power is, that it is essentialljr democratic. O'Connell was naturally, and by the mere fact of his political position in Ireland, the enemy of the aristocracy. This was a necessity. He could not be the man of the Irish and the Catholic people without being the adversary of the English oligarchy Perhaps in no countiy is the representation of pojiular interests and passions so necessarily the fierce enemy of the upjjer classes as in Ireland, because there is not, almost, a country in the world where the separation between the aristocracy and the people is so open and complete as in Ireland. We must not then be astonished that O'Connell waged an eternal war against the aristo- cracy of Ireland. Nothing could restrain him in those attacks, which his passions 2Gfj THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CORNELL. Suggested and his interests did not forbid. ISTor must we be astonished it O'Connell, the idol of the people, provoked the bitter hostility of the upper ranks of society. There was not on earth another man so much loved and so much hated. The resentment of the Irish aristocracy was very natural." O'Connell used constantly to say of himself, '-that he was the best -abused man in the world." Fortunately he Avas able to bear up against any amount of hostility, and return bitter word for bitter word. AVith respect to his antagonism to the Irish aristocracy, it was forced on him, just as it is forced on his countrymen, by the nature of things. Whether they like it or not, the adherents of the popular or national party in Ireland are bound to be hostile to the nobles and landed gentry. The Irish people, indeed, naturally would rather lean to aristocracy. If they had an aristocracy of their o^vn race, thoroughly sympathising with their feelings and ideas and aspirations, in all pi'obability they would look up to and cling to it devotedly. O'Connell himself was pro- bably, both by natural and acquired taste, an aristocrat. But then, neither he nor his people had any choice, for the existing aristocracy of Ireland is, in reality, not Irish, but alien. It is for the most part alien in blood, and, still worse, it is almost entirely alien in education, in thought, and in feehng. Even the few old Irish famiUes are now Anglicised by continual intermarriages with the English and by their thorough English training. Hence, then, the bitter hatred between O'Connell and his people on the one side, and these anti-Irish Irishmen of the upper classes on the. other. As this chapter has been in a great degree one of light, humorous sketches and anecdotes, and as we are about to commence the more serious, if not drier, details of our hero's political career in the next, I may as well terminate this one by another specimen of O'Connell's humor- ous vein. Indeed, I shall on this occasion exhibit him in his broadest and most farci- cal mood : I shall shew him giving way to an utter abandonment to fun and frolic. The intident I am about to give has often been told before, and some of my readers may deem it too outrageous a piece of burlesque — some even may deem it too coarse a passage to be introduced into the biography of a great politician. At aU such fastidioiis readers and their criti- cisms, I fear I shall be discourteous enough to laugh heart ly. I cannot sacri- fice a scene that I deem characteristic (I have little doubt of its authenticity), to soothe their delicacy. Let them leave untasted whatever seems likely to offend their literary palates. I entirely agree with Lord Macaulay in deriding aU such conventional notions of the dignity of biography, or even of history, as would compel awriter to sacrifice to an effeminate or "stuck-up" sort of fastidiousness of taste incidents or conversations strikingly illustrative of character, because they may have certain elements of coarseness or even vulgarity. Witliout further preface, then, I shall proceed to give the reader O'Connell's famous encounter with Biddy Moriarty. Tliis most whimsical and droll adven- ture took place in the earlier part of our hero's life. As I have, I trust, sufficiently demonstrated ere this, his great abilities were rapidly recognised after he was called to the bar. His friends and acquaintances in particular had great faith in his powers, above all m his powers of .vituperation. Even in those eeivlj daj^s of his career his familiars behevedhim to be "a devil of a dust." But at this period there dwelt in Dublin a dame who was fairly entitled to enter the lists with him as a scold. Her name was Biddy Moriarty, and she kept a huck- ster's stall on the quays, nearly opposite the Four Courts. This mteresting speci- men of "the faker and better sex," to borrow an oft-repeated expression of our hero's, belonged to the highest order of viragoes. When she gave you a salutation vrith her fist, you didn't at all hke it; but you found a rasping with the rough side of her tongue still less agreeable. In Dublin the fame of her abusive volu- bility had attained the highest pitch. Her celebrity had even extended to the pro- vinces. It was generally believed that she had done more to enrich the Dublin slang vocabulary than all preceding mas- ters and mistresses of the art of Bdlings- gate; her expressions were everywhere quoted; her brazen impudence, in short, had become proverbial all over the island. Notvsdthstanding all this, some of Dan's friends, in their boundless confidence in his tongue-i^rowess, believed implicitly that, if he " tackled" her, he would prove more than a match for the redoubtable THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 2G7 Biddy at her own weapons. Dan himself, indeed, having already had" the advantage of hearing her give a slight "taste of her quality" on one- or two occasions, was modest enough to entertain some mis- givings on this score. One day, however, some individuals in a company, where our hero was present, expressed more than doubts; they even ridiculed the notion of his being able to stand before Biddy for a moment. This at once put Dan on his mettle ; for he hated to confess inferi- ority m anything, or the possibility of his being defeated; he declared himself equally ready to meet the Amazon and to bet that he would floor her. Bets were at once made, and it was decided that the strife of tongues should "come off" without delay. The whole company sallied forth and hurried to the huckster's stall. There was the notorious Biddy presiding over the sale of her small merchandise. A few staring idlers, some of them innocent of soap and water, and tattered of garb, lounged around, Bidcfy, as a renowned " character," and one of the " sights " of the Irish metropolis, was of course the the object of their curiosity or interest. The audience, including O'Connell's companions, was now quite numerous enough to excite the heroine, once pro- voked to the conflict, to give a full dis- play of her richest flov^'ers of rhetoric. O'Connell was now eager for the combat and confident of triumph. He had already hit upon 9.n ingenious plan for the terrible Biddy's overthrow. Resolving to take the initiative, our hero thus began his attack : — " What's the price of this walking-stick, Mrs. What's-your-name?" "Moriarty, sir, is my name, and a good one it is ; and what have you to say agen it? and one-and-sixpence 's the price of the stick. Troth, it's chape as dirt^— so it is. " "One-and-sixpence! whew! Why, you are no better than an impostor, to ask eighteen pence for what cost you two- pence." ■ "Twopence! your grandmother!" re- plied Biddy, at once waxmg irascible. "Do you mane to say that it's cheating the people I am? Imposter, indeed!" "Ay, impostor; and it's that I call yovi to your teeth," rejoined O'Connell. " Come, cut your stick, you cantanker- ous jackanapes ! " quoth Biddy, her face growing redder every moment. " Keep a civil tongue in your head, you old (liago7ial !" returned O'Connell, in the calmest possible tone. The effect of this calmness on the excitable nerves of the fair lady was even more irritating than his abuse. "Stop your jaw, jon pug-nosed badger!" exclaimed Mrs. Morkirty, "or by this and that, I '11 mixke you go qviicker nor you came." " Don't be m a passion, my old radius!" said our hero, still preserving the most provoking coolness in his voice and demeanour' "anger will only wrinkle your beauty." "By the hokey, if you say another word of impudence, I'll tan your dirty hide, you bastely common scrub! and sorry I 'd be to soil my fists upon your carcase." "'^^Tlew! boys, what a passion old Biddy is in ! I protest, as I 'm a gentle- man " ' ' Jintleman ! jintleman ! the likes of you a jintleman! Wisha, by gorry, that bangs Banagher! ^Vhy, you potato- faced pippin-sneezer! where did a Mada- gascar monkey like you pick up enough of common Christian dacency to hide your Kerry brogue? " "Easy, now; easy now," said Dan, with the same look and tone of imper- turbable good-humour; " don't choke yourself with fine language, you old whisky- drinking parallelogram ! " "What's that you call me, you murderin' villain?" shouted Mrs. Mori- arty, by this time goaded into perfect fury. "I call you," answered O'Connell, " a prallelogram ; and a Dublin judge and jury will say that it 's no libel to call you so." "Oh, tare-aurouns ! oh, holy Biddy!" screamed Mrs. Moriarty, her eyes flaming like those of a tigress robbed of her whelps; "that an honest woman, like me, should be called a parrybellygrum to her face! I'm none of your parry- bellygrums, you rascally gallows-bird!" you cowardly, sneaking, plate-lickin' blaguard!" "Oh! not you, indeed!" retorted O'Connell. "Why, I suppose you'll deny that you keep a Injpotlieneuse. in your house?" " It 's a lie for you, you bloody robber !" roared the raging virago; "I never had such a thing in my house, you swindling thief!"' 268 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. " Wliy, sure your neighbours all know Tery well that you keep not only a Jiypo- thenense, but that you have two diameters locked up in your garret, and that you go out to walk with them every Sunday, you heartless old heptagon!'''' " Oh, hear that, ye saints in glory! Oh ! therfe 's bad language from a fellow that wants to pass for a jintleman ! May the divil fly awaj^ with you, you micher from Munster, and make celery-sauce of your rotten limbs, you mealy-mouthed tub of guts ! " "Ah," persisted her arch -tormentor, " you can't deny the charge, you miser- able submuUiplc of a duplicate ratio!'''' " Go," vociferated the half-frantic scold, " go rinse your mouth in the Liffy, you nasty tickle-pitcher! After all the bad words you spake, it ought to be filthier than your face, you dirty chicken of Beelzebub ! " " Rinse your own mouth, you wicked- minded old polygon! To the deuce I pitch you, you blustering intersection of a stinking superficies / " " You saucy tinker's apprentice! if you don't cease your jaw, I '11 " But here Biddy, utterly confounded by Dan's volleyed abuse, fairly gasj)ed for breath. For the first time in her life, her foul- tongued volubility completely failed her. Unable to heave up another word, she stood, purple-visaged and foaming at the mouth, like a baffled fury. At the risk of giving her an immediate fit of apoplexy, our hero now relentlessly pursued his triumph. Without letting her have a moment's breathing-time, he poured in on the devoted Biddy broad- side after broadside of double-shotted scurrility. " ^¥hile I have a tongue I 'U abuse you, you most inimitable periphery! Look at her, boys ! Tliere she stands, a convicted perpendicular in petticoats ! There 's con- tamination in her circumference, and she trembles with guilt down to the extremi- ties of hev corollaries. All! you're found out, you rectilineal antecedent and eqid- angular old hag ! 'Tis with you the devil will fly away, you porter-swiping simili- tude of the bisection of a vortex!" Astounded and overwhelmned with this cataract of vituperation, which, in being utterly incomprehensible to her, only " bothers " her the more, Biddy stands speechless, as tliough she were struck dumb by palsy. Still, albeit worsted, she is game to the last. Suddenly snatching up a saucepan, she aims it at the head of our hero. But, ere it flies from her hand, he very wisely contrives to beat a hasty retreat. There can be little doubt tliat on this occasion, at all events, " discretion was the better part of valour." "You've won the wager, O'Connell; here 's your bet," said the gentleman who had proposed the contest. O'Connell displayed the same vivacious humour, the same ingenuity, quickness and fertility of resources in this grotesque adventure, that so often stood him in good stead in his more serious encounters through life. A man of mere ordinary smartness would have endeavoured to meet Biddy with an exact imitation of her own customary style of Billingsgate, and his tirades would, as a necessary consequence, have been overwhelmned, in a few moments, by the furious ebulli- tions of the foul-mouthed virago. But O'Connell knew Ijetter than to be guilty of so stupid a blunder. He rightly cal- culated that the surest way to disconcert and confound her was to pour forth an unceasing torrent of loud-sounding sesquipedalian jargon, which to Dame Biddy's ears would necessarily be as unintelligible as " the unknown tongues" of the celebrated Edward Ir\ang's dis- ciples. In her ignorance, she would be sure to fancy the uncouth mathematical terminology some dark and unheard-of words of opprobriousness. In short, the collapse of Biddy's Billingsgate under the weight of Dan's jawbreakers somewhat resembled the fate of soldiery, who, having long fought with good fortune on ground of a certain contour, with foes using arms and tactics like their own, are at last suddenly assailed on ground of a different configuration by antago- nists employing novel arms and unusual manoeuvres. Lo! completely taken by surprise, in the twinkling of an ej^e they lose all presence of mind, and, wanting resources to grapple with the unfamiliar difficulties, abandon the field a panic- stricken rout! It was my intention to close this chapter with the scene of Biddy Mori- arty's overthrow. However, I may as well, before commencing another, add one more anecdote illustrative of our hero's incomparable power of putting down instantaneously a troublesome op- THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 269 ponent by giving out, in one short nervous sentence, a good round volley of abusive epithets. A few words of his derisive drollery often outweighed anotlier less popular advocate's elaborate speech of an hour. At nisi priiis this turn for comical satire aided him im- mensely. He would often so cover with mockery and ridicule botli witnesses and the cause in behalf of which they were called up to testify, that real substantial grounds of complaint would be wholly lost sight of, or appear simply absurd. The anecdote which I am about to give will make au excellent pendant to that of Biddy Moriarty. As the story of Biddy's dis- comfiture seems to me authentic, so I think is this. But even if I had doubts of their authenticity, I would still be inclined to give these anecdotes, for in any case they have a biographical value, as impressing on our minds a vivid picture of the Irish popular conception of Dan and his comical humours. But enough of this — to our story : — O'Conuell was once engaged in a case at the assizes of one of the towns on the Munster circuit. The attorney, on the side opposed to O'Connell's, was the most combative of mortals. Nothing delig}ited him so much as having a good fight. This taste he always took care to gratify by being foremost in whatever scenes of political excitement occurred in his native town. His external appear- ance was significant of his moral and intellectual qualities. His face generally wore an audacious, threatening, con- temptuous expression. He looked like some dogged pugilist. His hair was as contrarious as hi^ disposition ; no amount of brushing could smooth it. Two eccentric locks, one on each temple, stood erect like horns, and were far from tending to mollify the fighting expression of his face. This fiery, spunky, wrang- ling limb of the law, whenever he addressed an audience, jerked out his short sentences, not destitute of a certain sort of ability, in a hissing tone of voice. Being an Orangeman, this odd cha- racter was anything but friendly to our hero. On the occasion in question he kept annoying O'Connell by every means in his power — one moment by improper interruptions, at another time by address- ing the witnesses — in short, by all sorts of unwarrantable interference. Vainly did the barristers associated with O'Con- nell in the cause, take him to task roughly; vainly did the judge repeatedly order to keep him quiet; up he would jump every other moment, interrupting the proceedings, hissing out the prompt- ings of his bile, sometimes even vocifer- ating uproariously. Nobody seemed able to keep this choleric Orange attorney at rest for five consecutive minutes. Finally, even while O'Connell was in the very act of urging a most important question, he leaped up once more, quite abashed, for the mere purpose of repeat- ing for the hundredth time his outrage- ous interruption. But this overfilled the measure of our hero's wrath ; he suddenly lost all patience. Turning round, with the rapidity of lightning and witli his fiercest scowl, on the disturber of the peace, he roared in tones of thunder, " Sit down, you audacious, snarling, pugnacious ram-cat." Quick as the few words, that hit off with such happy humour the character of the " cantank- erous " attorney, flew from his lip, shouts of laughter rang through the court. Roar followed roar. Judge, barristers, and all were convulsed till the tears ran down their cheeks. In short, the laugh- ter was inextinguishable as the mnth of the Homeric deities, that filled the halls of Olympus, when Vulcan got up to restore good-humour and harmony to the ruffled celestials by his limping efforts to hand round the nectar. Meanwhile the " pugnacious " limb of the law stood before O'Connell like one transfixed — pale, tongue-tied, gasping with, unutterable fury. AU through the re- mainder of his life the nickname of "ram- cat " stuck to hun.* CHAPTER X. State ot the Catholic Cause at the Commencement of O'Connell's Politicixl Career — Pitt's Return to Office — His Power Weakened — His Falseness to Ireland and the Catholics— The Castle uses its influence with Lord Fingal to keep back the Catholic Peti- tion — Coronation of Napoleon — The Pope's AUo- * The books and authors to which I am indebted for the materials of the foregoing cl3apter are — O'Neill Daunt's Persona! Recollections of O'Connell; Fagan's Life of o'Connell: Life and Times of O'Connell, etc., Dublin, " John MuUany, 1 Parliament Street ; Curran's •'speeches, edited, with Memoir and Historical Notices, by Thomas Davis, Esq , M.li.LA. Barrister-at- Law ; Cashel Jloey's Memoir of Fltmket ; TIte History of Ireland from, its Union with Great Britain, in January. ISUl to January, 1810, by Francis Plowden, Esq. ; Mitchei s History of Ireland ; O'Neill Daunt's Ireland and her Agitators; Ireland Sixty Years Since; Barriugton's Per.ional Sketche^s; Reminiscences of Michael Kelly; Writings of Lady Morgan; Da Beaumont's Irlande. 270 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. cution — The Catholics Calumniated — Continuerl Suspension of tho Habeas Corims Act— Duplicity of the Viceroy, Lord Hardwicke — Pitt's Perfldy; He Refuses to Present the Catholic Petition — It is Presented by Mr Fox and Lord GreuviUe — First Appearance of Henry Grattan in the English House of Commons — His splendid Speech for Catholic Emancipation — Triumph of Bigotry ; the Petition Eejected by Both Houses — Castlereajch Defeated at the Downshire Election — Decline of Pitt's Power; his Death— " The Ministry of All the Talents" —Great Hopes of the Catholics— Fox's Condemnation of the Union— Bar Address to Curran— Release of Irish State-prisoners— Adilress of the Catholics to the New Viceroy, the Duke of Bedford — His Viceroyalty Disappoints their Expectations — Jealousies and Divisions in the Catholic Councils ;' Tho Case of Mr. Ryan— O'Connell's Amusing Story of Peter Bodkin Hussey and tho Catholic Banker — Generous Eloquence of Daniel O'Connell in the Catholic Committee — Death of Charles James Fox— Con- tinuance of Orange Licence — The Case of Mr. Wilson— Extortions of the Tithe-system— " The Threshers " — Irish Ecclesiastical Students Invited to France; Consequent Increase of the Maynoolh Grant by the British Government — "Catholic OfiBcers' Bill " — The King Arbitrarily Dismisses the Ministry— The "No-Popery" Adicninistration comes into OfSce- Irish Members on the Effects of the Union and the Pledges of British Ministers — The Catholic Petition withheld on the motion of John Keogh— O'Connell supports him in a warm and even flhal speech— Departure of the Duke of Bedford from Ireland— FoUy of the Dublin Populace. Before commencing the political life of O'Connell, it is necessary to take a hurried glance at the state of the Catho- lic cause when O'Connell first began to be one of its most prominent advo- cates. We have seen how, previous to the considerable concessions of 1793. the abilities and energy of Theobald Wolfe Tone and John Keogh had infused new- life into the Catholic Committee. Two delegates from each county and great city had been associated with the original members, v.ho were all residents of Dublin. These delegates were only to be summoned upon extraordiuarj^ occasions. Wolfe Tone, indeed, gives the credit of having planned this new arrangement to MUes Keon, of Keonbrook, county Leit- rim. After 1793, no further concessions had been made to the Catholic body. During the troubled years that passed, from the recall of Earl FitzwUliam, in March, 1795, to 1804, the action of the committee was paralysed. When the Catholic movement began to revive, only small meetings in private houses were held, o^wing to the suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act, which continued till 1806. The first meeting of any great importance was held on the 16th of February, 1805. At this, a deputation of noblemen and gentlemen were appointed to request Mr Pitt to present the Catho- lic petition to the House of Commons. This minister had returned to ofiice on May the 14th, 1804. It was only to serve a temporary purpose that he had suffered the imbecile Addington to liold the reins of power since his resignation in 1801. As soon as Addington presumed to a-jtnear independent of him, Pitt rallied his forces and drove him from office. The great minister's power, however, was not now the same as of old. Addington resented the insult of being cashiered, so to speak, for incapacity. He used aU his influence to raise up opposition to Pitt. The king, too, had been unfavourable to Pitt's res- toration to the helm of state. Although Pitt had pretended that his resignation, in 1801, was in consequence of the king's refusal to consent to Catholic emancipation, yet, on returning to power, he made no condition in favour of that measure. This clearly proves his false- ness and treachery to the Catholics. The Govei'nment prints kept up alarms about the French party in Ireland and French invasions during the whole summer. All this was meant to justify the measures of defence and coercion which the ministers resorted to in Ireland. There was an en- campment of fifteen thousand men on the Curragh. INIarteUo towers and other defensive works were pushed forward. Besides the prisoners already held, without visible cause, under the sus- pension of the Habeas Corpus Act, the rigour of whose treatment was now sharpened, many additional persons were arrested. As the Catholics had been foolish enough, on his return to office, to rejoice publicly " in the benefit of having so many characters of eminence pledged not to embark in the service of Govern- ment, except on the terms of Catholic privileges being obtained," Pitt had reason to fear that the sincerity of hui pledges would soon be tested. To pre- vent this, Sir Evan Nepean was instructed to endeavour to persuade the Earl of Fingal. the highest in rank of the Irish Catholics, to influence his co-religionists to hold back their petition. The aristo.- cratic section of the Committee was generally in favour of postponing the time of petitioning. Lord Fingal was now frequently closeted at the Castle, in-vited to dine there — in short, sedulously com-ted. But it was all in vain. Pitt foresaw that, even if he would, Lord Fingal could not very long keep back THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 271 the petition of the Catholics. The crafty minister now tried to excite prejudice against their claims. For this purpose he took advantage of the circumstance of Napoleon's coronation as emperor by the Pope on the 28th of October, 1804. The ministerial papers set to work. Here was an ominous reconciliation of the emperor with the Church of Rome. Pitt's journals took care not to say a word about the emperor's having restored the Protestant as well as the Catholic Church in France, or that Protestants were eman- cipated in that country. Napoleon would henceforth have vast influence in Ireland. Was there not a memorial, written by MacNeven at Paris, addressed to the Irish officers in foreign services, especially the Austrian, and calling on them to join in the intended. attempts to free Ireland? Did not the Holy Father, too, in the allocution addressed to a secret consistory before his departure for Paris, speak of hi.s gratitude to Napoleon, and add, "that a personal interview with t,he emperor would be for the good of the Catholic (Church, which is the only ark of salva- tion?" AVns it any wonder that this last assertion alfnost frightened the life out of all the bigoted old women of both sexes? Everything seemed to jjortend the arrival of Napoleon in Ireland to overthrow the venerable institutions of " Church and State." The dungeons of the Inquisition were about to yawn for all heretics. Parliament met on the 15th of January, 1805. Sir Evan Nepean succeeded in procuring the renewal of the suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act. He was warmly opposed on this occasion by Charles James Fox. But now the fate of the Catholic petition was to be de- termined. In spite of the manoeuvres of the Castle, it was decided at the meeting of tlie 16th January, to which I have referred in the opening paragraph of this chapter, that Lord Fingal and others should take the petition to London. The viceroy. Lord Hardwicke, now changed his tactics. He had no intention, indeed, of seriously recommending the petition. " He had been selected," says Mr. Plowden, "from the mass of the peerage as the best qualified to resist the eman- cipation of Ireland under the insidious mission of reconciling her to thraldom." But having the minister's assurance of a decided majority against the petition, he affected to favour the Catholics by discountenancing counter-petitions. To prove his sincerity, he even dismissed the notorious Jack Giffard for having carried in the Dublin corporation some violent resolutions against emancipation. Such was Ijord Hardwicke's duplicity. The Catholic deputies had their con- ference with Pitt on the 12th of March, 1805. He said "that the confidence of so very respectable a body as the Catholics of Ireland was highly gratifying to him," but at the same time civilly refused to present the petition; me time hadn't come — t^iere were obstacles. He didn't, however, teU them what was the fact, that on his return to office he had volun- tarily engaged that he would never again bring the subject under the consideration of His Majesty. Finally, the delegates be- sought him merely to lay their petition on the table of the House of Commons ; they would even authorise him to state "that they did not press for the immediate adoption of the measure prayed for. Their self-prostration was all in vain. IVIr. Plowden, who had the best means of knowing all about the conference, tells us that Mr. Pitt " drily repeated his negative ; " he said plainly that he should feel it his duty to resist the petition, and advised them to withdraw it. This was the reward the " leading Catholics " received from Pitt for consenting to the accursed Union. He simply broke faith with them. They deserved httle pity. They were not ashamed to merit one compliment, which on this occasion he deigned to pay them when he said " that he had read with satisfaction a copy of their petition, in which they very judi- ciously refrained from insisting upon the object of it as a matter of right and justice.'''' Clearly, neither the hour nor the man for the achievement of Catholic deliverance had yet come forth: the true leader, however, who was destmed to demand in thunder-tones the emancipation of his countrymen, not as a matter of expedi- ency, but " as a matter of right and justice,'^ was even then on his way — no other than our hero, Daniel O'Connell, then the most rising young lawyer at the Irish bar! Repulsed by Pitt, the Catholic delegates applied to Mr. Fox and Lord GrenviUe with better success. It was presented 272 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. in both Houses — by Lord Grenville in the Lords, and Mr. Fox in the Commons — on tiie 25th of March. Debates on the petition subsequently took place in both Houses. That in the House of Lords commenced on the 10th of jNIay, that in the House of Commons on the 13th of the same month. In the fh'st of these debates, the Duke of Cumberland, Lord Redesdale, Lord Carleton, Lord Aukland, and others displayed an almost incredible amount of violence and rabid bigotry. Lord Carleton raved about the prepara- tion "of maps of the forfeited estates to guide the |Jbceedings of resumption.'''' Lord Redesdale, however, bore off the palm for bigotry of the narrowest stamp. His wretched illiberality brought down on him a severe castigation from two Irish lords, Hutchinson and Ormond. The former said that "he had been bred, educated, and had spent the greater part of his hfe in Ireland, and never had witnessed, or even heard of, such fooleries and horrors as had been detailed by the learned lord, whom he challenged to verify his assertions by facts." The Earl of Ormond denied the truth of Redesdale's statements. He said "he could not sit silent and hear the country to which he had the honour to belong so foully traduced, without rising to contradict such unfounded aspersions upon the national character of Ireland." He spoke contemptuously of Iledesdale's " old woman's stories, which not the most prejudiced Protestant in Ireland would accredit," and hoped that, when he should return to the bench, he would learn to divest hiniseK of his antipathies and partialities. Some English noblemen also spoke hberally. The Earl of Albe- marle, referring to Redesdale, said, "that the grave character of a judge, and the advantages of local experience and official duties, should not give weight to the vulgar prejudices and idle tales which had been retailed to the House by a noble and learned lord with heat and animosity little becoming the gravity of his situation." Earl Spencer, Lord Holland, the Earl of Suffolk, the Duke of Norfolk, Earl Moira, supported the petition. The most amusing feature of tlie debate was, that all the bigots dis- avowed bigotry and intolerance, and praised themselves highly for "their disposition to liberality and conciliation." On the division, 49 voted for going into committee. 178 against it — leaving a majority of 129 against the motion. The peculiar incident of the debate in the House of Commons was that, on this occasion, the illustrious Grattan made his first appearance m the English, Parliament. Smce the disastrous nights of the Union debates, his splendid eloquence had been unheard. He had not sought election from any constituency. It had recently occurred to Earl Fitzwilliam to secure the brilliant talents of Grattan for the coming debate. Lord Fitzwilliam was still friendly to the Catholics and mind- ful of the way in which he, as well as they, had been deluded by Pitt in 1795. He induced the Hon. C. L. Dundas to vacate his seat for the borough of Malton, in England, and Grattan was returned for it. The utmost anxiety to hear the great orator and stainless patriot pervaded the House. Charles James Fox had opened the debate in a long speech, which was also powerful, generous, and enlightened. The notorious Dr. Paddy Duigenan, though he saw Gi'attan menacing him with Ids eye, had presumed to reply to Fox, in a speech of more than three hours' duration, full of rabid bigotry and coarse -vatuperation. As soon as he had sat down, Grattan arose. The house was breathless with expectancy. In Moore's Life of Lord Byron the latter gives an account of this scene, which he had no doubt heard from eye-witnesses. The noble poet tells us, that, for the first few minutes after Grattan had commenced speaking, the audience were in doubt whether to give or withhold their applause, so smgular were his style and gestures, so uidike was he to any speaker they had previously listened to. All eyes were turned to Pitt to see the effect produced on him. At last, when they saw his stately head nodding in approval, they broke forth into rapturous cheers, and, when Grattan sat down, the triumph and enthusiasn^ were unbounded. I think the reader will carry off a better idea of Grattan's eloquence on this occasion, if I give a few passages in his own words, than if I attempt to give a meagre drj'-bones of an outline or analysis of the entire argument. This is the speech in which Grattan says patheti- cally of independent Ireland, " 1 sat by her cradle, and followed her hearse : " — "I rise " — thus Mr. Grattan commences — " to avoid the example of the member THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 273 who has just sat down, and instead of calumniating either party, to defend both. * * * llins has he pronounced against his country three curses: eternal war with one anotlier, eternal war with England, and eternal peace with France. So strongly does he inculcate this, that if a Catholic printer were, in tlie time of invasion, to publisli his speech, that printer might be indicted for treason, as the publisher of a composition admin- istering to the Catholics a stimulative to rise, and advancing the authority of their religion for rebellion. His speech consists of four parts: l.s<, an invective uttered against the religion of the Catholics ; '2n/e(((/e; but all in vain. The king and his "No Popery" friends prevailed. Mr. Tighe, an Irish member, thought the tranquillity of Ire- land would be effected by the removal of the Duke of Bedford. He said few recruits were got for the army in Ireland, because the free exercise of the religion of the Catholic soldiers were interfered with. He also said, that "since the linion, Ireland had felt no community of rights, no community of commerce; tile only community it felt was that of having one hundred assessors in the British Parliament, who were to give ineffectual votes for the interest of their coimtrij, as he might do that night." Sir John Newport, also an Irish member, said: — •• Ireland would force itself upon the consideration of the House and of the empire. * * * It was in vain to trifle Avith pledges given." He added, that '■ the noble duke at the head of the present Government had given a still stronger pledge. He had written two letters to two officers of the Irish brigade, inviting them to enter into the service of this country, on the promise of making the Irish Act of 1703 general, and further, of opening the whole military career to them ! " The ministerial changes caused great commotion and dismay among the Catho- lics of Ireland. On the 18th of April, 1807, a Cathohc meeting took place at the Exliibition Room, William Street. i^ord Fingal was in the chair. The debate was as to the propriety of for- warding the petition for presentation. The difference of opinion on this subject was considerable. Grattan, acting on the advice of friends of their cause in London, particularly Sheridan, had recommended the committee to withhold it. Keogh l)roposed that, from respect to tlie ministry (for, in spite of their short- comings, he praised them) and in de- ference to the advice of Mr. Grattan and other friends, the presentation of their petition for emancipation should be postponed. Mr. O'Gorman opposed Mr. Keogh's motion; but Mr. O'Con- nell gave it his powerful support. He spoke of the veteran Catholic leader, John Keogh, and his services to their cause, in terms of almost filial veneration. He said he would call him "the venerable father of the Catholic cause; for he was the oldest, as well as the most useful of, her champions; he had exhausted his youth in the service of the Catholics, and his old age was still vigorous in the constitutional pursuit of emancipation." Sustamed by the vigorous advocacy of O'Counell, Mr. Keogh's resolution to postpone carried the day; the committee was dissolved, after Lord Fingal had been deputed to present a respectful address to the Duke of Bedford, prior to his de- parture irsgn Dublin. It is not very easy to see what legitimate claims this viceroy had to entitle him to such a compliment from the Catholic body; still less is it easy to enter into the feelings of the Dublin populace, on the day of the viceroy's embarkation for England, some of whom, carried away by a foolish enthusiasm, took out the horses from the viceregal carriages, and, yoking themselves in their place, drew the duke and duchess to the water's edge. The viceroy, so far from ha\ing done anything for their cause to merit this exaggerated manifestion of popular regret and gratitude, had in reality, during the whole course of his admin- istration, endeavoured to keep back the Catholic olaims.* CHAPTER XI. The "No-Popery Ministry" shew their teeth— Jack Giffard, "the Dog in Office "--Grattau's Invective against Giffard — Insurrection and Arms Acts— * The chief books from which I have drawn the materials of the foregoing chapter ure—Tlie History of Ireland, from its Union icilh Great Britain, in January, 18U1, to October, ISIO, by Francis Plowden, Esq.; Mitchel's Contimiation of MacGeoghegan; Life and Times of Daniel O'Connell, Dublin, J. MuUany, 1 Parlia- Lment Street; Pagan's Life of O'Connell; Daunt's I'ersonal Recollections of O'Connell; Wise's History of the Catholic Association; History of Europe, by Sir A. Alison, Bart. ; Moore's Life of Byron ; Grattan's .Speeches; Davis's Memoir of Cm-ran; Cxirran's Life, by his Son, etc. 282 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O'CONNELL, Noble Conduct of Richard Brinsley Sheridan — The Bishop of Quinipers Pastoral — Furious Intol- erance— The "Shanavests" and "Caravats" — I/;beral Protestp.nts— Divisions of the Catholic Committee; OConnell's Views Prevail — Catholic Petition — Dr. Duigcnan made a Privy-Counsellor — The Catholic Leaders— Lords Fingal, French, Trimleston. etc. — O'Connell — John Keogh — Denis Scul y— Counsellor Clinche and Dr Dromgoole — Nich' las Purcell O'Gorman— O'Conuell's Amusing Anecdotes about him — An Amusing Anecdote told by the late Father Kenyon— O'Connell on Jack Lawless — Lord Finga-1, Dr. Milner, Crattan, and the Veto — Great Agitation on the Question of the Veto — Secret Understanding in 1799 between Pitt, Castlereagh, and the Bishops — Declaration of the Bishops against the Veto — A Friars Explanation of the :Heaning of the Veto — Sir Arthur Wellesley "Doing the Dirty Work" as Irish Secretary — O'Conneli's Opinion of Welhngton — Edmund Burke on the Kelations of the Catholic Clergy to the English Government — Parliament Refuses the srnallest Concession to the Catholics— O'Connell becomes more and more Famous and Powerful. The " No-Popery " niinistry were not long in office before they " shewed their teeth." But even before they had time to perpetrate any actual deed of intoler- ance or tyranny, the bigoted corporation of Dublin hastened to sbe\^J;heir con- fidence in the new oppress^ of their country, by presenting the freedom of the city to the new viceroy, the Duke of Richmond, in a gold, and to his secretary, Sir Arthur Wellesley, in a silver box. The appropriate orator on the occasion when these gifts were voted by the corporation, was the notorious, or infam- ous. Jack Giffard, who sr.id, this was not the mere compliment of custom, but a special recognition of their known deter- mination ■" to maintain the Constitution in Chiu'ch and State" — in other words, to maintain the Ascendency party in the enjoyment of its exclusive privileges, and the Catholics in grinding servitude. This Giffard was one whom, at a some- what later period, our hero used to lash with his most merciless invective. It may amuse the reader to give Sir Jonah Har- rington's account of the circumstances which first brought this wretch, originally an obscure, if not nameless adventurer, then a struggling apothecary, before the public: — " Wlien I was at the Dublia University," says Sir Jonah, ' ' the students were wild and lawless. Any offence to one was considered an offence to all ; and as the elder sons of most men of rank and fortime in Ireland were then educated in Dublin College, it was dangerous to meddle with so powerful a set of students, who consequently did precisely what they^, chose (outside of the College gates). If they conceived offence against anybody, the collegians made no scruple of bringing the offender into the court and pumping him well; and their imanimity and num- bers were so great, that it was quite impossible any student could be selected for pimishment. In my time we used to break open what houses we pleased, regu- larly beating the watch every night — except in one parish, which we always kept in pay to lend us their poles where- with to fight the others. In short, our conduct was outrageous ; and the first check we ever received was from Giffard, who was a director of the watch, and kept a shop close to the Parliament House. He having in some way annoyed the col- legians, they determined to pump Giffard ; but they reckoned without their host. He intrenched himself in his house, which we assailed, breaking all his windows. He gave repeated warnings to no purpose; and a new assault being commenced, Giffard fired a pistol, and a collegian was wounded in the wrist; whereupon the besiegers immediately retired from the fortress. It was a lucky shot for Giffard, who imn\ediately obtained some parochial office for his firmness, made himself of importance on every trifling subject, and harangued constantly in the vestry. Of liLS subsequent progress I know nothing, till about the year 1790, when I found Giffard an attache to the Castle in divers capacities. He was afterwards placed in the revenue department, became a com- mon councilman, and at length high sheriff; at which time he acquired the title, which forsook him not, of ' the Dog in Office.' He had a great deal of vulgar talent, a daring impetuosity, and he was wholly indifferent to opinion. From first to last he fought his way through the world, and finally worked himself up to be the most sturdy partisan I ever recol- lect. His detestation of the Poj)e and his adoration of I^ng William he carried to an excess quite ridiculous — in fact, on both subjects he seemed occasionally delirious." It was at Sir Jonah Barrington"s elec- tion, subsequently, during the Liverpool administration, that Giffard, then sheriff of Dublin, on some absurd grounds, ob- jected to Grattan's vote. He dared to say, "We want no rebels here." Grattan, on the spur of the moment, overwhelmed the wretched being with the following terrible burst of invective: — "Mr. Sheriff, when I observe the quarter whence the imputation comes, I am not astonished at THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 233 it. It comes from the hireling traducer of Is is country, the excommunicated of his fellow-citizens, the regal rebel, the unpun- ished ruffian, the bigoted agitator! — in the city, a firebrand ; in the court, a liar ; in the streets, a bully- in the field, a coward! and so despicable is he to the very party he wishes to espouse, that he is only tolerated bj^ them for performing those execrable offices the less vUe refuse to execute." All Giffard could utter in reply was, " I would spit upon him in a desert." It was with difficulty, next day, that Barringtiin could persuade the fiery Grattan not to demean himself byscnding the caitiff a message, as if his concise but nervous phOlppic were not " satisfaction" more than sufficient. " I must have a crack at the fellow," Grattan would keep repeating for near an hour. But to return to the "No Popery" Government. Their accession to power aggravated the insolence of the Orange faction all through the island. The Catholic people were Taore unhappy than before; their leaders more despondent and disorganised ; their prospects more gloomy. The Govermnent used extra- ordinary exertions to secure a majority in the elections that preceded the assembling of the new " Parliament. Fbr example, Mr. Ormsby. the solicitor for the forfeited estates in Ireland, personally waited on Mr. James Grogan to bribe him to sup- port the ministerial candidates at the Wexford election, by promising to restore to the family all the forfeited estates of his late brother, Coi"nelius Grogan. Sir Arthur Wellesley, indeed, declared that the Irish Government had given Mr. Ormsby no instritctions on the subject. Sir iVrthur Wellesley lost no time in bringing in two bills to rivet the English chain more securely and intolerably on the unfortunate country that gave him birth. One was an " Insurrecton Act," the other an " Arms Act." It came out in the course of the debates that both these bills had actually been devised by the late pseudo-liberal Government of Lord GranvUle, but there had not been time to pass them previous to the resigna- tion of that ministry. Secretary Elliott and the popular Bedford had recom- mended and now supported them. This fact places in a strong light the easy, credulous good-natiire of the Irish people, who have so often failed to perceive that, in their dealings with Ireland, there is little, if any, difference between the Whig and Toiy parties. Both these truculent bills passed. It is melancholy to find Mr. Grattan voting for the " Insurrection Act," which renewed the viceroy's power to proclaim disturbed counties, and gave authority to magis- trates to arrest persons found out of their dwellings between sunset and sunrise, Grattan disliked Jacobinism and French principles, and he was deluded by Secre- tary Elliot into believing that societies holding such views and '^ secret meetings of a dark and dangerous description" existed in Ireland. The support of this cruel measure greatly alienated, as it was only natural it should, his friends in Ire- land. However, he strenuously opposed a clause in the bill which authorised magistrates to enter houses by night, on suspicion that any of the inmates were absent, or to give a warrant for a similar purpose to any one who might say he had such a suspicion. Any persons absent might be apprehended as idle or disorderly, unless they could prove that they were absent about their lawful occupations. "But who," Grattan exclaimed, "were the persons to be vested with the power? Perhaps some lawless miscreant — some vagabond. Perhaps the discretion of that reasonable time was to be lodged in the bosom of some convenient menial, some postillion, coachman, hostler, or plough- boy, -who, under the sanction of the law, was to judge when it should be a reason- able time for him to rush into the apart- ment of a female, while she was hastily throwing on her clothes to open the door to this midnight visitor. This would give a wound that would be felt long." The brilliant Sheridan nobly differed from his friend Grattan and most of his party. He very pertinently asked, ' ' Would they state in the preamble of the biU, 'Whereas a very small part of Ireland was some time ago disturbed by the Threshers, and whereas that disturbance has been com- pletely put down by the ordinary course of the law, and Ireland is now completely tranquil, be it therefore enacted, etc., That most extraordinary powers, etc. ? ' " Sheridan also opposed the Arms BUI. He ridiculed it, saymg, " Nothing like a blacksmith was to exist in Ireland, lest he might possibly form something like a pike." Considering the general spirit of the bill, he thought a clause only wanted to make it high treason to commimicate 284 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL, either of these bills to the French em- peror, lest he should look on them as direct invitations to him to visit that part of his majesty's empire. A parliamentary inquiry into the state of Ireland, moved for on the 14th of August by Sheridan, was refused by the Government. The fame of the intolerant conduct of the "No Popery" cabinet soon reached France. The Bishop of Quimper, in a pastoral, contrasted British intolerance with the absolute toleration accorded by Napoleon to the various sects in his empire. English hypocrisy and cant were painted in their true colours. Her religi- ous fanaticism was immasked, and her cruel persecution of Ireland indignantly denounced. "See," he writes, "the sufferings which England inflicts upon Ireland, which is Catholic, like you, and subject to her dominion. . The three last ages present only the affecting picture of a peo]ile robbed of all their religious and civil rights. In vain the most enlightened men of that nation have protested against the tyrannical oppression. A new perse- cution has ravished from them even the hope of seeing an end to their calamities. An inflamed and misled people (the Eng- lish) dares applaud such injustice." The English Government and press were furi- ous at this pastoral, which was assumed to be evidence of a Franco - Hibernian conspiracy. Tliey now resorted to base fabrications to rouse the " No Popery" spirit to its utmost pitch of ferocity. It was stated by the Government journals that a document, of a nature menacing to England, and signed by Napoleon and Talleyrand, had fallen into the hands of the ministers. It was also mendaciously stated that the Pope had issued a buU, exhorting the "titular bishops " of Ireland to encourage devotion to the views of Bonaparte, and that this bull was accom- panied by a paper containing a solemn declaration of Napoleon, that he was deteinained to give the religious ascen- dency in Ireland to the Roman Catholics. These artifices of an unscrupulous Government succeeded in stirring up the bigots of the Ascendency faction. The cries of "No Popery" and "The Church is in danger " rang through the island. The agrarian or rural organisations of this year — called " Shanavests" or " Caravats ' — were represented to be secret political societies in the French interest. In reality, these societies were simijly the desperate efforts of a trampled peasantry to resist the extortions of the tithe-system and of rack-rents. These two societies, so far from being associated in a political con- spiracy, vowed to belabour each other at fair and market. Mr. Plowden tells us that "when the Insiu-rection and Arms Bills passed into law. it is no less true than singular that in all the counties then said to be disturbed, not a single charge was to be found on the calendar of sedition or insurgency at the preceding assizes." Competitors for the farms of old occupiers were the real objects of the hostilit}' of both organisations; they also desired to fix a general rate of tithes and rent. In truth, the arm of the ordinary law, Avhich had succeeded in putting down the system of the Threshers, would have sufficed to suppress these organisations also without any recourse being had to the suspension of the constitution. To the credit of the Irish Protestants, for the honour of human nature itself, the vile arts of the ministers failed to arouse quite as fell a spirit of bigotry as they desired and expected. The Orange cor- poration of Dublin, indeed, set an example of biogtry which was not generally fol- lowed; they entrusted a petition against the claims of the Catholics to the Duke of Cvmiberland for presentation in the House of Lords. Good feeHng, confidence in their Catholic brethren, a sense of the danger which a divided nation would have to meet in case of invasion by an enemy, influenced the better-disposed and more sensible portion of the Pro- testants of Ireland. The members of the University of Dublin did not yield to the efforts made by the Duke of Cumberland to intimidate them into following the lead of Oxford in petitioning against the claims of the Catholics. From nine counties the Irish Protestants sent in. petitions in favour of emancipation. Con- sidering these and other facts, it seems to me perfectly clear that, if the Irish Parlia- ment had remained in existence, the Catholics would have been completely emancipated long before '29. The free Irish Parliament had already, at one blow, demolished more than half the fabric of penal legislation. On the other hand, it was an Irish Parliament, completely enslaved to the English legislature, tliat had lent itself to the odious work of building up that stronghold of hmnan tyranny. THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 285 In the meetings of the Catholic Com- mittee, which took place about this period, the Catholic leaders were generally- divided on the question, whether or not they should then petition Parliament, lliis was the subject of debate at a meet- ing held in January, 1808. Lord Fingal occupied the chair. Some of the aristo- cratic leaders of the Catholics believed that the time was unfavourable for petitioning. The more democratic leaders, among whom O'Connell was every day becoming more and more prominent, for the most pai"t held the contrary opmion, and thought that a petition should he for- warded to London at once. O'Connell said, "The Cathohcs of every part of Ireland had been consulted. * * * Numerous answers had been received from the most respectable persons in all the counties, who all concurred in this one opinion, that the petition should be for- warded without the smallest delay. * * * The petition had not only the good wishes of our liberal and enlightened Protestant brethren of Ireland, but some of them had expressed their sentiments by a public resolution — he alluded to that of the gentry of the county of Tipperary. * * * He regretted that he could not speak of it" (the conduct of the Protestants) " in terms according with the gratitude of his heart. It reminded him, however, of that affectionate attention and care for the rights of Irishmen, which had induced the Irish Protestants of the pre- sent generation to lighten the fetters of the Catholic, and totallj^ to emancipate the Presbyterian — a wise and magnani- mous policy, which would have long since restored the Catholics to complete freedom, had their cause and their country been left in the hands of Irish Protestants." (Here he ivas vehementb/ opplauded.) " Under those circumstances nothing but disunion among themselves could ever retard the Catholic cause : division, while it rendered them the object of disgust to their friends, would make them the scorn and ridicule of their enemies." O'Comiell's views prevailed. It was finally resolved, unanimously, that the petition should be presented to Parliament without delay. Even though the admin- istration was for the most part composed of rancorous bigots, there Avere certain reasons why the Catholics, at this time, should have cherished some hopes of speedy success to their cause. The power of Napoleon was just then at its greatest height. The British empire was obliged to contend single-handed against nearly the whole of Europe. The continental system, which now embraced even Russia, shut almost every European harbour against English commerce. Every ra- tional consideration, then, seemed to counsel the necessity of conciliating the Irish Catholics. We have seen that num- bers of their Protestant countrymen had eagerly adopted this view. The " Pro- testant declaration" in favour of a Catholic Relief Bill was signed by such important names as those of the Marquis of Head- fort, the Earl of Ormond, the Earl of Meath, the Earl of Bessborough, Vis- counts Clifton and Dillon, and a crowd of other wealthy proprietors. Accordingly, the Earl of Fingal took the Catholic petition over to London. He went around amongst the liberal members of both Houses in search of a peer and a commoner who would be civil enough to present the humble petition of himself and his co-religionists. This was a sufficiently humiliating ordeal for the premier Earl of Ireland to have to go through. This chief of a house — the Plunkets — as old as the Danish invasions, met with a rebuff from the Duke ol Portland, the descendant of Wilham the Third's Dutch favourite, Bentinck. Finally, the noble "Papist" asked Lord Grenville and Mr. Grattan to present it. It was laid on the table of the House of Lords. When Henry Grattan offered it in the Commons, Canning and Perceval, scrutinismg it sharply, detected an infor- mality. Several names appeared to be A\Titten by the same hand. This, they contended, invalidated the petition. In consequence of this objection it was not received by the House. If the Government, and the majority in Parliament who support'ed tliem, were determined to withhold their rights from the Catholics, they were also ready enough to curtail benefits already accorded, and to . add insult to injury. The grant to the College of Maynooth was cut down from thirteen thousand to nine thoiisand pounds. Sir John Newport of Waterford and another Irishman, General Matthew, struggled against this bigoted and beg- garly stinginess. Two evangelicals — the sanctimonious Perceval and that sublimely philanthropic stickler for the emancipa- 286 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. tion of the blacks, the pious Mr. Wilber- force — gxatifiecl their narrow feelings of hostility to Catholics by opposing those •who desired to continue the larger and more liberal grant. General Matthew boldly attributed this paltriness to the sinister influence of that rancorous prince, the Duke of Cumberland. Among the bitterest opponents of the Majmooth grant at this time was. tliat notorious champion of intolerance, Dr. Patrick Duigenan. This firebrand had just been made a, privy-counsellor by the Duke of Richmond, who thus signalised the commencement of his vice-regal career (it was he also who had recommended the reduction of the IMaynooth grant) by acts hostile and insulting to the Catholics of Ireland. Duigenan said that his Catholic countrymen wei-e always traitors in theory, and wanted but the opportunity to be traitors in action. This brought down on the head of the venomous bigot some merited expressions of indignation. Mr. Barham execrated such scandalous and wicked sentiments. Then the Govern- ment were sharply taken to task for having appointed Duigenan a privy-coun- sellor. Sii- Arthur Wellesley defended the extraordinary appointment. Tliis Patrick Duigenan was one of the most whimsical characters that figured in that age of whimsical Irishmen. He was not without courage and energy, ability and learning. But. he was rough, vulgar, violent, and obstinate. To all appearance full of prejudices, not to be vanquished by reason, he was the most bigoted and intL'mperate of partisans. He was suffi- ciently fertile in sophistical arguments ; invective, however, was the great element -of all his harangues and writings. Some doubted the sincerity of his apparent fanaticism on account of the glaring inconsistency which was his strangest characteristic. In private life liis bigotry and intolerance seemed to lose aU their mastery over his conduct. Not merely ■were all his servants and a number of acquaintances, who shared his hospitality and were generously assisted by his puj-se. Catholics, but his first wife also belonged to the same religion. Her sister, Miss Cusack, had been a nun before the French Revolution . this lady, too, lived with the eccentric doctor. Stranger still, a <^atholic ecclesiastic generally dwelt in the house of this outi-ageous defamer of -Catholics, as confessor and domestic chaplain to the ladies, and often did the honours of the right honourable bigot's table. His person somewhat resembled his mind. His figure was stout, his face, clever-looking but coarse, was expressive of the dogmatism of his disposition. The intemperate virulence of his abuse of the Catholics rather tended, in the end, to serve theh cause, and to damage that of their antagonists, which he advocated with so much apparent zeal. In other words, he put forward the principles of intolerance in their naked hideousness. Sir Jonah Barrington, to whose sketch, drawn with his usual felicity, I am in- debted for this brief outline of his cha- racter, says, in his Anecdotes of the Union, that "Duigenan had an honest heart, a perverted judgment, and an outrageous temper; and, as if he conceived that right was wrong, he surlily endeavoured to cloak his benevolence under the rough garb of a rude misanthropy. In private society he was often genial and convivial; and when his memory, his classic reading and miscellaneous information, were converted to the purposes of humour and entertain- ment, they gave his conversation a quaint, . joyous, eccentric cast, highly entertaining to strangers, and still more pleasing to those accustomed to the display of his versatilities." In com}X)sing ■ his rhapso- dical productions he adopted a strange method. Folding a sheet of paper in four leaves, he scribbled away hurriedly on both sides of each leaf, and then sent the closely - written manuscript to the printers without reading it over or cor- recting a word. He was determined to print whatever came uppermost, which he considered likely to be best, and sure to be most natural. Such was the Right Honourable Patrick Duigenan. To return to the Catholic Committee. It may not be amiss, at this point, briefly to notice the men who were the chief leaders, in those days, of the two sections of the Catholic body. I shall begin with the aristocratic party, who were less vigorous in then.' plans of action than the democratic section — were averse to going too fast, were generally desirous that the committee should keep back their petitions till the ariival of some more favourable time, and who also, when the veto question came up, recommended the concession to the king of the right of having a veto on the appointment of the Catholic bishops. THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 287 Of this aristocratic section of the com- mittee, his hi^xh rank made the Earl of Fingal — who, descended from one of the Scandinavian sea-kings of the old days prior to the Norman invasion, was the premier earl of Ireland — ostensibly at least, the chief personage. He seems to have been a highly-polished and amiable gentleman, high-minded, and patriotically inclined ; not wanting in personal courage, but at the same time weak and credulous. He was in frequent communication with the leading statesmen pf the time, who probably were sometimes able to play upon his xmsuspicious nature so far as to learn the designs and influence the policy of the Catholic bodj'. I do not, however, see any valid reason to doubt the honour and integrity of this nobleman's inten- tions. As it was all along his interest, more perhaps than that of most other Catholics, to see emancipation achieved, so it is reasonable to believe that it was his sincere and constant desire to aid in bringing about that result according to the best of his ability and judgment. Two other Catholic noblemen, the Lords Firench and Trimleston, took a very prominent part in the movement of those days. The former w^auted the cultivated manners of Lord Fingal. He seems, indeed, to have been somewhat rough in his bearing and careless in his attire; but, on the other hand, he pos- sessed more force of character and engrgy than his brother-peer. In spite of an imperfect education, he had considerabh- natural ability, was by no means destitute of wit and power of sarcasm. Upon the whole, however, his character repelled rather than attracted. He was fierce and proud. His subsequent fate was tragic in the extreme. In consequence of a financial crash (his lordship was a banker), he committed suicide. Lord Trimleston had received his edu- cation in France. He appears to have been somewhat vain and affected, even foppish. He was fond of boasting of the "patrician blood" of the Barnewells (Barnewell was his lordship's family name). These three noblemen were willing, if not anxious, to concede the power of the veto to the king. For this, and possibly other reasons, they are re- membered with httle favour or gratitude hj the Irish people. There were other aristocrats who then took more or less part in the affaiis of the committee — Lords Gormanstown and Nottervillc, and the Bcllews, the baronet and his brother, the pensioned counsellor. It is scarcely necessaiy to say here that there was no intellect, in the more demo- cratic section of the committee, at all approaching O'Connell's. If, however, he towered intellectually over all his associates, as much as the divine Achilles, in bodily stature, over the other Homeric chieftains, still some of the other popular leaders were men of very considerable, if not very high abilities. John Keogh, of whom I have so ofteii had occasion to make honourable men- tion, "had not yet wholly retired from the field of agitation. It was not till the year 1810 that, the leadership finally passing from his hands, he withdrew from public life, and left our hero, without any rival, the recognised leader of the Catholics. I shall have occasion before long to refer to Keogh 's last interview with O'ConucIl. The Liberator does not deny that his predecessor in the leadership of the Ca- tholics rendered good service to their cause. Keogh was a man of ability, integrity, and courage. Another Catholic leader of distinguished ability, in those* days, was Denis Scully, a barrister and author of the valuable Siatcment of the Penal Laws, a man of grave, thoughtful, and statesman - like intellect. Then the gay and combative Feter Bodkm Hussey contrasted strikingly with the solid counsellor Scully. Of the character of the red-haired Hussey the reader has already seen a sketch from the lips of O'ConneU. James Bernard Clinche and Dr. Drom- goole were influential in the Catholic coimcils from their extensive learning. The readmg of both was chiefly of an abstruse and out-of-the-way kind. Mr. Clinche was a black-letter lawj^er. He was not merely deep in the science of jurisprudence, but in that of theologj'- also. He was an able writer, though liis- style seems to have been occasionally vicious in point of taste, and swollen with forced conceits and metaphors. Mr. Clinche was the author of many of the addresses and resolutions that, in those times, were issued m the name of the Catholic bishops. He spoke almost as ably as he wrote ; but his oratory had pretty much the same defects as his writings. It had httle about it that could attract a popular audience. In- 288 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. deed, we are told hj Wyse that such listeners often deemed his eloquence and learning, in the words of Shakespeare, "weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable." Truths that people already feel keenly fa their hearts, they naturally think it a waste of logic to have laboriously de- monstrated to their intellects. Many a barrister, vastly inferior to Mr. Clinche in merit, whose intellect that gentleman justly enough deemed light and flimsy, outstripped him in the race for profes- sional success, and probably regarded him as a ponderous pedant. The intellect of the large-headed, bushy-browed Dr. Dromgoole was cast in a somewhat similar mould. The logic of the schools was his delight ; Thomas Aquinas his favourite author. He was nicknamed the Duigenan of the Catholic party. Perhaps (premising, however, that he was somewhat more a man of the world than Adams) his learned eccentricities bore some partial resemblance to those of Fielding's hero, Parson Adams. At all events, he was in many respects a man of another age than that in which he lived. Pie was honest and zealous, courageous in maintaining his peculiar views. A sort of rivalry existed between liini and the learned Clinche: they dif- fered about Church-government. On this subject Mr. Clinche had written a %york of ponderous erudition, with a view chiefly to prove that bishops should have the right of appointing their own suc- cessors whenever the Pope waived his prerogative of appointing them himself. Counsellor Nicholas Purcell O'Gorman (th(> uncle, as I said before, of Ricliard ■O'Gorman, the '48 rebel, now an eminent barrister in iSIew York) was also promi- nent among the leading Catholics in these earlier days of O'Connell's politic&l life. He was a large, ungraceful-looking man, Avith a strong voice and a careless delivery in speaki)ig. The matter, however, was superior to the manner. It was sensible and seasoned with a dry wit. O'Connell used waggishly to say, that whenever O'Gorman meditated delivering a speech which "should resound through the world," he was sure to case his stout legs in a pair of Avhite silk stockings, striped v/ith black. It would appear that this style of costume for his legs was adopted in imitation of Earl Grey. He liad once accompanied, as their secretary, a deputation that waited on the earl. On this occasion he had observed, with an intense interest more becoming a flunkey than a patriot leader, that the earl's shanks were sheathed in white silk stockings, -striped with black. Ever after he is stated to have arrayed his legs similiarly, whenever he was about to make an extraordinary effort of oratory. Perhaps, as Othello believed in the A-irtue of that peculiar handkerchief which " an Egyptian did his mother give," so Mr. O'Gorman had faith in the mystic efiicacy of white sUk stockings, striped witli black, to brighten the harangues of a popular orator. O'Connell told Mr. Daunt the following anecdote about Counsellor O'Gorman: — " O'Gorman, previously to emancipation, was one of the most violent out-and-out partisans of the Catholic party. He often declared that I didn't go far enough. We were once standing together in the inn at Ennis, and I took up a prayer- book which lay in the window, and said, kissing it, ' By virtue of this book I will not take place or office from the Govern- ment until emancipation is carried. Now, Purcell, my man ! will yuii do as much? ' Purcell O'Gorman put the book to his lips, but immediately put it away, saying, ' I won't swear ; I needn't! my word is as good as my oath — I am sure of my own fidelity!' When Chief -baron O'Grady heard this story, he remarked, ' They were both quite right. Government has nothing worth O'Connell's while to take until emancipation be carried; but any- tiiiug at all would be good enough for Purcell O'Gorman.' " Another of O'Connell's reminiscences of this gentleman is still more amusing. Some waggish barrister once accused O'Gorman of being a musician. He denied the charge stoutly. " A jury," said O'Connell, relating the occurrence in the committee-room of the Repeal Association, "was thereupon impannelled to try the defendant, who persisted in pleading ' Not guilty ' to the indictment for melodious practices. The jury consisted of Con Lyne, under twelve different aliases — such as " Con of the Seven Bottles,' ' Con of the Seven Throttles,' ' Ci-im. Cun,'' and so forth. The prosecutor then proceeded to inter- rogate the defender: — ' By virtue of your oath, Mr. O'Gorman, did you never play on any musical instrument?' 'Never, on my honour,' replied Purcell. ' Come, THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL, 289 sir, recollect yourself. By virtue of your oatli, did you never play second fiddle to O'Connell? ' The fact was too notorious to admit of any defence, and the unani- mouii jury accordingly returned a verdict ef guilty." That extraordinary humorist, my friend, the late Father Kenyon. the well- remembered parish ]3riest of Temple- derry, in the North Riding of the county Tipperary, told me another odd anecdote about this Nicholas Purcell O'Gorman. He was once asked to dine with the judges — Dogherty and Cvampton, if I remember rightly — during some assizes, perhaps at Ennis, the county-town of Clare. It happened to be a day of abstinence in the Catholic Church. The judges, being Protestants, had never adverted to tliis circumstance, so that no fish was provided. When they had gat down to table, one of the judges asked O'Gorman what would he be helped to. "Oh!" quoth O'Gorman, "I'll take some of that salmon you've got before you;" and he pointed to a joint of roast-mutton. The fact of its being a day of abstinence at once flashed across the mind of the judge. He red- dened, became embarrassed, and began to .stamnier forth long-winded apologies. The other judge — Crampton, I believe; liowever, the name is of little conse- tjuence — after a minute or so, interrupted the speaker quite coolly, and said, point- ing to the dish, " Can't you just do what Mr. O'Gorman asks you to do? Just help him to some of that salmon before you." The other ceased his apologies. In a few seconds they all began to laugh heartily; and the judge, relieved from his embarrassment, helped Mr. O'Gor- man to a portion of the salmon, before him. It was not till a period somewhat later than 1808 that the noted "Jack Lawless" became conspicious in the Catholic movement. However, I may as well give O'Connell's opinion of him here. Later I shall quote Richard Lalor Shell's entertaining sketch of him, as he appeared at the Clare election. Mr. Daunt asked O'Connell his opinion of " Jack Lawless " as a public speaker. " He began admirably," replied O'Con- nell, " and proceeded wretchedly. His first four or five sentences were exceed- ingly good— the language excellent, the seutimente impressive, the delivery admir- able. Biit then he began to fail, and continued to the end in a strain of in- coherence. Sometunes, indeed, he got off right wall — that is, if he was inter- rupted near the outset. He would then reiterate his opening points with excellent effect, and with the spirit which the stimulus of a little brushing opposition infused into his manner. " But Jack was an unpleasant sort of fellow to ti-ansact public business with. One day m committee Jack told us he meant to bring publicly forward at that day's meeting a certain topic, which I was of opinion it would be infinitely wiser and more prudent to leave in the shade. I expressed that opinion very strongly, and was backed by many persons. Lawless seemed reluctant to acquiesce, but at last he said, ' O'Connell, you are right — I see you are quite right; I shall say nothing on that subject at the meeting.' I thanked him for his acqui- escence, and in order to make assurance doubly sure, I said to him, as we were passing through the little boarded entry into the great room, " 'Now, Jack, you'll be sure to hold your tongue about that aifair? ' "'Do you mean to doubt my word?' retorted Jack, rather angrily. ' Have I not promised to be silent? I consider my honour as pledged.' I Avas quite satisfied, and we went in. I moved somebody into the chair, and sat down to look over a letter, when up started Jack, and dashed full into the topic upon which he had just promised silence! Of course, I had to draw the sword upon him in reply." Mr. Daunt adds: — "This Avayward and unmanageable gentleman greatly liked the excitement of a skirmish. I am told that after receiving a severe castigation from O'Connell, he would skip into the committee-room, rubbing his hands in the highest glee, and exclaim- ing, ' Well, had not we a nice debate ? ' " The Catholic petition, which had been rejected by the House of Commons on account of the informality of the signa- tures, was now sent back from Ireland, properly signed, and presented to the House on the 25th of May, 1808, by Henry Grattan. He shewed the absurd inconsistency of the English Govern- ment in having conceded to the Catholics the right to vote for members of Parlia- ment, and to hold all military and civil 10 290 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. offices, except about fifty situations and seats in either House of Parliament, and to exclude them from those seats in Parliament on the ground that^they were perjurers on principle, and did not respect the obligations of oaths ; * * * "that is to say, that those persons so admitted by the law into the Constitution, forming a part of your army and n-Avj, are desti- tute of the principles which hold together the social order, and which form the foundation of Government, and that they are thus depraved by their religion." But the important part of Mr. Grattan's speech, which it is absolutelj necessary to introduce into this biography, from its influence in bringing about events in which our hero took the most conspicu- ous part, is the following passage: — " And here I have a proposition to make — a proposition which the Catholics have authorised me to make: it is this: — that in the future nomination of bishops His Majesty may interfere and exercLse his royal privilege, and that no Catholic bishop be appointed without the entire approbation of His Majesty. In France the king used to name; in Canada the king names ; it is by no means incom- patible with the Catholic religion that our long should name ; and I do not see any great difficulty on this head." This is the origin of tlie celebrated question of the veto, which occasioned so many debates in the Catholic Committee, so much controversy in writing as well as speech, and so much dissension and bad blood in the Catholic body for a number of years. Lord Fingal had remained in London after the first rejec- tion of the petition. He had got into communication with some friends of the Catholics, especially Mr. Ponsonby. Anxious to hasten the emancipation of the Catholics, he had let himself be deluded into the belief that, if the Catholics would submit to a royal veto on the appointment of their bishops, the success of the Catholic cause Avould be greatly facilitated, i'ortified in this con- viction by the ad\dce of Dr. IMilner, the learned controversialist, who was an English vicar-apostolic, and also a sort of agent in England for the tish Catho- lic bishops. Lord Fingal, in conjunction with this English prelate, ventured to authorise Messrs. Grattan and Ponsonby to oiler, on the part of the Catholics, the right of the veto to the CroAvn. Lord Fingal had indeed got powers from the Catholics of Ireland to manage their petition ; but they had never for a moment imagined that he would make such an offer as this of the veto. For the present, in spite of the offer, the bigotry of Perceval and his majorities caused the rejection of the petition. It appears that in 1799 ten of the Irish bishops, constituting the board of May- nooth College, allowed themselves to be deluded by Pitt nud Castlereagh to agree, " That in the appointment of Roman Catholic prelates to vacant sees within the kmgdom, such interference of Govern- ment as may enable it to be satisfied of the loyaltj' of the person appointed is just, and ought to be agreed to." This statement was accompanied with an ad- mission, " That a provision through Government for the Roman Catholic clergy of this kingdom, competent and secured, ought to be thankfully accepted." This transaction never came fully to light tiU 1810. The reverend Father Brenan, in his Ecclesiastical History, seems to think it natural that the prelates should try to conceal this transaction, especially whoa they found themselves " swindled," by Mr. Pitt and the other British statesmen, "out of the stipulated price of their seduction" to the support of the accursed measure of the Union. Leaving this negotiation of 1799, and returning to the year 1808, the Irish Catholics were filled with indignation at the prospect' of the British Government's being able to extend its corrupting in- fluence over their "virtuous hierarchy." Clergy and people were determined to maintain their Church's independence of the State. The Irish Catholic prelates, warned and alarmed by the roar of popular indignation, met in regular national synod .on the 14th and 15th of September, 1808, in Dublin, and passed the following re- solutions: — "It is the decided opmion of the Roman Catholic prelates of L-elaud, that it- is inexpedient to introduce any alteration in the canonical mode hitherto- observed in the nomination of the Irish Roman Catholic bishops, which mode long experience has proved to be unex- ceptionable, wise, and salutary. "That the Roman Catholic prelates pledge themselves to adhere to the rules by which they have been hitherto uni- formly guided — namely, to recommend to His Holiness only such persons as are THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 291 of unimpeachable loyalty and peaceable conduct." These sjiiodical resolutions bore the signatures of twenty-three pre- lates. Three dissented — tlicy had signed the resolutions of 1799. Meetings were held all through the island to protest against the veto scheme. The bishops Were thanked for their re- solutions. The people were resolved rather to remain without emancipation than suffer the British Government to acc[uire any control over their Church. The press swarmed with pamphlets. Of all this opposition to the veto, O'Connell was from first to last the commanding spirit. Dr. INIUner, after the use of his name in Parliament, published a state- ment that he had no authority to sanction any such arrangement as would confer the power of the veto on the king, and ■complaining that he had been misquoted. After the Irish bishops had published their resolutions, this eminent prelate became one of the most vehement and uncompromising opponents of the veto. AVe shall see instances of his Disposition before this biography reaches its con- clusion. I shall here, for the sake of a little variety, give a comical explanation of the meaning of the veto^ which was given by a friar in 1813. The poor friar was an- nouncing a meeting on the vexed question of tliis terrible veto. The story is one of O'Connell's : — " ' Now, ma bougJiall,'' said the friar, 'you haven't got gumption, and should therefore be guided by them that have. This meeting is all about the I'eto, d'ye see. And now, as none of ye know what the veto is, I '11 just make it all as clear as a whistle to yez. The veto, you see, is a Latin v/ord, ma houghali, and none of yez imderstands Latin. But / will let you know all the ins and outs of it, boys, if you'll only just listen to me now. The veto is a thing that — you see, boys, the veto is a thing that — that the meeting on Monday is to be held about.' (Here there were cheers and cries of 'hear! hear!") _' The veto is a thing that — in short, boys, it 's a thing that has puzzled wiser people than any of yez ! In short, boys, as none of yez are able to comprehend the veto, I needn't take up any more of your time about it now ; but I '11 give you this piece of advice, boys: just go to the meeting and listen to Counsellor O'Connell, and just do whatever he bids yez, boys ! ' " Wyse, speaking of Lord Fingal's con- ference with Mr. Ponsonby and other supporters of the Catholic cause, says: — " These conferences afterward proved of the most injurious consequence to the Catholic community. Wliether from in- advertence, or zeal, or injudicious submis- sion to the opinions of parliamentary advisers. Lord Fingal appears precipi- tately to have consented to the proposition of a measure for which certainly he had no adequate or specific authority from the body itself." Most of the Catholic aristocracy took the side of Lord Fingal in this transaction. Thus tlie misunder- standing between the aristocratic and popular sections of the Catholic body increased daily, and their cause was con- sequently vreakened for the time. I shall here give, without any com- ment, a curious passage from a letter of the then Irish secretary, Sir Arthur Wellesley, written to Lord Hawkesbury on the 4th of February, 1808, shortly befoi'e this affair of the veto. Sir Arthur \vrites: — "I understand that the English Catholics have lately made some endea- vours to unite their cause with the Irisli of the same persuasion. The Irish appear to hope to derive some advantage from this union of interests, of whicli it can only be said that, if it should be made, it will inoculate them tvith more religion, and may have the effect of moderating their party violence, and, at all events, it wiU give us an additional channel for kiuncing their secrets.'''' As the English Catholics were far more willing to accord the veto than the Irish, and as, moreover, they were, generally speaking, little favourable to democratic principles, it is more than probable that Lord Fingal's readiness to concede to the Crown the right of interference with episcopal ap- pointments was mainly brought about by the influence of their views. In fact, we have seen that he took the ad\'ice of Dr. Milner, an English bishop, before he committed hunself. Sir Arthur Wellesley did not remain much longer in his post of chief secretary of Ireland. In this year, 1808, he com- menced that career of victory in Spain which gradually conducted him to the height of military renown. In his Irish administration he neither won, nor de- served to win, any share of the gratitude of his countrymen. He made himself a willing instrument of oppression, not. 292 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL, perhaps, of altogether as ruthless a nature as that which prevailed under the rule of some of his predecessors, but at the same time unnecessarily harsh and unjust. But what is most surprising of all — considering that he has contrived to get the reputation (and, in some respects at least, it is not wholly unmerited) of being a man with a strong sense of duty, of bSing a man also straightforward and honest — is to see the aptitude, and even inclination, which he shewed, while Irish secretary, for doing the dirty work of corruption. He engages con ainore in the task of purchasing the foul services of spies and informers, superintending and directing himself the necessary nego- tiations. He also seems to have under- taken the chief management of the corrupt ti-affic in parliamentary votes and seats and influence. He coolly calls this sort of thing " turning the moral weakness of individuals to fjood accouvt" — •'■good ac- count'''' meaning simply the triumph of his party's schemes, good, bad, or in- different. Here is one of his precious letters on the subject of corrupting the press. It is addressed to Sir Charles Saxton, Bart., and is dated 10th April, 1809:— "I am one of those who think that it will be very dangerous to allow the press in Ireland to take care of itself, particularly as it has been so long in leading-strings. I would, therefore, recommend that in proportion as you diminish the profits of better kinds of newspapers, such as the Correspondent and the Frecman''s Journal, and some others of that class, on account of proclamations, you should increase the sum thej^ are allowed to charge on account of advertisements and otlier publications. It is absolutely necessary, however, to keep the charge within the sum of ten thousand pounds y;er annum." The great warrior, even amid all the anxieties and preoccupations of his Portuguese and Spanish campaigns, could keep his atten- tion alive to, and one eye fixed on, the congenial business of corrupting the Irish press. On the 12th of January, in the same year, that secret agent in dirty affairs of State, to whom i have already slightly referred in a former chapter, J. Pollock of Navan, writes thus to Sir Arthur : — • "If you have Walter Cox, who keeps a small book-shop in Anglesea Street, he can let you into the whole object of sending this book" (Pieces of Irish Histon/, by William James McNevm, New York) "to Ireland at this time; and further, if you have not Cox, believe me, no sum of money, at all within reason, would be amiss in riveting him to Government. I have spoken of this man before to Sir Edward Littlehales and to Sir Charles Saxton. He is the most able, and, if not secured, by far the most formidable man that I know of in Ireland. The talk we h ave had about Catholic emancipation is wholly, with the great body of the Catholics, a cloak to cover their real object. Their real objects are political power, the Church estates, and the Protestant pro- perty in Ireland." O'Connell had but a poor" opinion of the celebrated " Iron Duke." The duke was certainly an indifferent enough cliar- acter, if we regard him only in the light of an Irishman. Indeed, we may call him a decidedly bad Irishman. But, viewing him from other points of view, he appears to greater advantage; so that, upon the whole, I am inclined to think O'Connell unjust in holding such a dis- paraging estimate of Wellington as, judging from his words on various occasions, he did. "I have two faults to find with him," says O'Connell. "One is, tliat I never yet heard of his promoting any person in the army from mere merit, unless backed by some interest. The second fault is, that the duke has declared that the only mis- fortune of his life is his being an Irish- man. There is a meanness, a paltriness, in this incompatible with greatness of soul. But, abstractedly from sentiment, he may be right enough; for, great as his popularity and power have been in England, I have no doubt they would have been infinitely greater if he had been an Englishman. John Bull's adoration would have been even more intense and devoted if the idol had not been a Paddy." O'Connell" had in his possession the original of a curious letter, written by the Marquis of Wellesley, the famous duke's almost equally famous eldest bro- ther, to a Mr. Mockler of Trim. It is a reply to an application made by that gentleman to the Avriter (then only Earl of Mornington) to procure a commisson in the army for his son. The subse- quently all-powerful statesman — at one time viceroy of India, now minister of THE LIFE OF BANIEL O'CONNELL, 293 foreign affairs, anon Lord-lieutenant of Ireland — apolog-ises to Mi: Mockler for his utter inability to help nim to the object of his desire. His excuse is, that " commissions are so hard to be got, that his brother Arthur^s name " (the name of the future victor of Waterloo, prince, duke, peer of Great Britain, marshal in. I forget how many services) ' ' Iiad been two years upon the list, and he had not yet got an aj)poiid- ment.''^ If Arthur had failed to get this_ com- mission, how many evejits in European history, but especially in English and Irish history, would have turned out quite differently! But to return to the question of the veto. It may not be out of place to quote some remarks of the illustrious Edmund Burke which have a direct bearing on the subject, and are replete with that great statesman's usual profound political wisdom. In his Letter to a Peer he says: — " Never were the members of one religious sect fit to appoint pastors to another. Those who have no regard for their welfare, reputa- tion, or internal quiet, will not appoint such as are proper. The seraglio of Constantinople is as equitable as we are, whether Catholics or Protestants, and, where their own sect is concerned, fully as religious; but the sport which they make of the miserable dignities of the Greek Church, the factions of the harem to which they make them sub- servient, the continual sale to which they expose and re-expose the same dignity, and by which they squeeze all the in- ferior orders of the clergj-, is nearly equal to all the other oppressions to- gether exercised by Mussulmans over the unhappy members of the Oriental Church. It is a great deal to suppose that the present Castle would nominate bishops for the Roman Church of Ireland with a religious regard for its welfare. Perhaps they cannot, perhaps dare not, do it." Again, in a letter to Dr. Hussey, the Catholic bishop of Waterford, -he says: — " If you (the Catholic bishoj/s) have not Avisdom enough to make common cause, they will cut you off one by one. I am sure that the constant meddling of your bishops and clergy with the Castle, and the Castle ivith them, will infallibly set them ill with their own body. All the weight which the clergy have hitlierto had to keep the people quiet will be wholly lost, if this once should happen. At best you wiU have a marked schism, and more than one kind; and I am greatly mistaken if this is not intended and diligently and systematically pur- sued." Some individuals of the extreme National party of Ireland have sometimes wished that the English Government would get hold of the Catholic clergy and make them a salaried body. They argue that the clergy would, in that case, lose all political influence whatsoever, and they would no longer be in a position to throw obstacles in the way of the patriots who struggle to put an end to British connection. But a fallacy pervades all these speculations. It is not quite certain that the clergy would, in the supposed case, lose their political influence ; and if they did not, under such circumstances it would be exercised in a way more ruinous to the designs of Irish nationalists than ever. As things actually stand, if the Irish people were truly in earnest, and went the right way to work for independence, they would encounter little opposition from the clergy — in fact, they would be sure to carry them along with them. One probable cause of the lukewarmness of the clergy to our national struggles is their scepticism as to the sincerity and devotion of the leaders and followers engaged therein. In speaking of the possible good or evU that might result from the state-payment of the Catholic clergy of Ireland, I have omitted the consideration of the injury that might result to the rehgion and morality, as well of the people as of the clergy them- selves. At the close of the parliamentary session of 1808, Lord Grenville made a motion that Cathohc merchants should be made eligible to the posts of governor or directors of the Bank of Ireland. Against this proposal a perfect howl of bigotry arose in the enlightened British legislature. Lord Westmoreland said, '■ that no further concessions what- ever should, under present circumstances, be granted to the Catholics." He also gave Lord Grenville and the Whigs a smart rap. Pie said, "He was surprised to see such motions so often brought forward by those who, when they were themselves in power, employed every exertion to deprecate and prevent such discussions." Whigs out of place are the champions of Irish grievances: in 294 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. office they almost invariably become what O'Connell styled them, " the base, bloody, aad brutalWhigs." The bio^oted Redesdale, ex-Irish chancellor, fell into a state of panic at the danger which would inevitably menace the Protestant interest, if such a monstrous innovation took place as to allow Papists to become bank directors. He said, "The more you were ready to grant them, the more power and pretensions you gave to the Catholics to come forward with fresh claims, and perhaps to insist iipon them." This sage counsellor then proceeded to abuse the Catholics in general, and their priests in particular. But if the brutal insolence and bigotry of the Tories refused to the Catholics even so paltry a concession as that pro- posed by Lord Grenville, they had no hesitation about giving Dublin a new police bill. This bill, along with its other merits, gave scope for a little jobbing, as it created eighteen new places for police magistrates. The session of Parliament terminated on the 8th of July, 1808, ha-\ang done no good f*r Ireland, but, on the contrary, having perpetrated against her a more than aver- age amount of British oppression. Meanwhile the veto question stiU excited the general mind of Ireland, and set her patriots by the ears. In the words of Mr. Mitch el, "These debates at once raised an immense controversy, both in England and in Ireland, which lasted many years, and produced innumberable books and pamphlets, discussing the limits between spiritual and temporal power, the meaning of loyalty and of the oath of supremacy, and " the liberties of the Galilean Church! " In the midst of all this turmoil, our hero grew dailj^ both in power and in fame. In the next chapter we shall see him at length the recognised leader of his countrymen. His policy was not, like that of the aristocratic section of the Catholics, one of delay and of withhold- ing petitions. On the contrary, it was aggressive, it was a policy of immediate and untiring effort and action. In a word, O'Connell's continual cry, from this time forward, was " Agitate, agitate, agitate!"* • The books to whieh I am indebted for the materials of the foregoing chapter are— TVie Ilulory of Ireland, from its Cnion. witk Great Britain, in January, 1801, io October, 1810, by Francis Plowden, CHAPTER XII. Orange Murders? and Massacres — Fight between the Kings County Militia and the Orange Yeomanry— The '"No-Popery" Government Connive at the OrangeAtrociiies— Inf?urrection Acts — Assemblage of Orange Delegates in 180-;— Disingenuousness of the Leading Orangemen— O'Connell on the Orange- men— Uovernment Partiality— Double-Dealing and Hypocrisy of the Duke of Richmond— His Tour through Munster— He Offends the B mdon Orange Legion by liis Mock Conciliation of Catholics — Viceregal Smooth Talk and Catholic Gullibi:ity— Keligiou^ Persecution of Catholics in the Army —O'Connell speaks against Tithes in his Native County— Reorganisation of the Catholic Committee in 1809— O'Connell's Foresight— The Veto Question Agitated again— The Catholic Petiti.m Rejected by Parliament-Chief-Baron "Woulfe— His Elabo- rate Oration on the Veto Demolished by O'Connell; O'Connell's Humorous Application of an Old Fable —Repeal Motion in the Protestant Corporation of Dublin in 1810— The Catholics Join in the Demand for Repeal — Great Meeting in the Exchange— O'Connell's Powerful Speech in Favour of Repeal -John Keogh Retires from the Leadership of the Catholic Body, and Daniel O'Connell .Succeeds him— New Programme— O'Connell on his own Frequent Bcpetitions—Hopelesslnsanity of George the Third— The Prince of Wales becomes Prince- Regent— Great Hopes of Emancipation — Bitter Disappointment of the Catholics ; the Regent Breaks his Pledges— Lady Hertford's Evil In- fluence— Wellesley Pole's Circular— state Prose- cution of Dr. Sheridan— Spirited Conduct of the Catholic Committee — Meeting in Fishamble Street Theatre. While the Catholic Committee, during the years between 1803 and 1809, were thus endeavouring, with more or less energy, to awaken public feeling and sympathy in behalf of their cause, hold- ing meetings in Dublin on every occasion that seemed to give them an opportunity of urging their claims — meetings at Mr. Ryan's house in Marlborough Street, at Mr. McDonnell's house in Allen Court, at the Coffee-House in Earl Street, at the Repository in Stephen's Green, at the Exhibition Room in William Street, at the Cock TaverH, Henry Street, at the Star and Garter, Essex Street, at the Rotunda, and elsewhere — the hostile spirit of the Ascendency faction, and especially of the Orangemen, remained as inveterate as ever. During the ad- ministration of the Duke of Richmond several outrages of the most lawless de- scriptfon were perpetrated by the Orange- men against the Catholics. At Corinshiga, a mile and a-half from the town of Newry, on the evening of the 23rd of June, 1808, Esq ; "Wyse's Ilis'ory of the Catholic Association; Mitchei's Continuation of MacGeoyhegan; Father Brenan's hceledastical History of Ireland; Wellington Correspondence; G rattan's Speeches; Works of Edmund Burke; Barrington's Personal Sketches; Select Speeches of Daniel Connell, by his son John ; Fagan's Life of O'Connell ; O'Neill D.iunt's Personal Recollections ; Life and Times of Daniel O'Connell, etc., Dublin, Joha Mullany, 1 Parliament Street, etc., etc, euj. THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 295 a number of men, women, and children -were amusing themselves at a bonfire. Some danced aroimd a g-arlanded pole. Others looked on and chatted. While they were thus enjoying themselves, free from all anxiety, eighteen armed yeomen suddenly drew near. Their sergeant de- liberately ordered them to -"present and fire," which they^did repeatedly, killing one of the crowd, named McKeowu, and wounding several. Little as the magis- trates of Newry loved the Catholics, such a heartrending occurrence shocked them. They offered a reward for the miscreants who had perpetrated this ruthless deed, and also wrote to the viceroy, begging that he would take some steps to protect the unarmed Catholics against the Orange brigands, the lowest of whom were allowed to possess aims. The duke's reply civilly expressed regret at the sad occurrence; but weeks passed over, and still nothing Avas done by Government to vindicate outraged justice and humanity. One of the ruffian yeomenry concerned in the butchery was, indeed, apprehended, through the exertions of the local autho- rities ; but he was guarded with so little vigilance, that he speedily managed to escape. So secure of impunity did the Orangemen feel, that a party of the same corps to which the assassins belonged, took occasion one day, when returning from parade, to tire a volley, in a spirit of bravado, over the house of the mur- dered person's father. The report of the volley threw his hapless wife into con- vulsions. The Catholic inhabitants in the neigh- bourhood being in a state of terror for their lives, IMi-. Warmg, one of the ma- gistrates, sent copies of the depositions of some of them to the Castle, and earnestly entreated Government to issue a proclamation offering a reward for the apprehension of the murderers. jMr. Secretary Traill replied that the Govern- ment declined to take any steps in the matter. ' On the 3rd of August, j\Ir. Waring remonstrated with the Govern- ment for their strange inaction, and main- tained that even yet they might do some good by a proclamation, if it were only in shewing their strong disapproval of such outrages. This remonstrance was not even honoured by a reply. Even the advertisement, sent by the local magis- trates to the Hue and Cry, was not inserted in that police sheet. In short, the whole matter ended, and not one of the nineteen criminals was ever brought to justice. Is it any mai-vel that, in many parts of Ulster, the Catholics have been wont, when the Orange anniversaries of the 1st and 12th July would come round, either to barricade their dwellings and quench the liglits, or else to make defensive pre- parations for a nocturnal combat? A somewhat similar deed of horror occurred even in the capital, not very far from the Castle itself. Some sportive boys dressed up a fountain in Kevin Street with green boughs and flowers. They also kindled a bonfire. A few Orange fanatics took offence at this display of thoughtless gaiety. They hastUy procured loaded guns and fired upon the mirthful groups around the festooned fountain and the bonfire. Wild shrieks instantaneously arose. The panic - stricken gi-oups scattered in haste, but not before one victim was killed out- right, and several others were grievously wounded. On the 12th of August, 1808, a party of fiity liings county militiamen, who had volunteered into the line, marched with- out arms from Strabane to Omagh, in the coimty Tyrone. Three hundred Orange yeomen were already there celebrating the anniversary of the battle of ^^ughrim. One of these knocked off the cap of one of the militiamen, because it was bomid with green. This, indeed, was the regi- . mental colour; but then it was also the Croppy colour, and consequently offen- sive to the loyalty of the " true blue." The militiamen had the spirit to strike the insulting ruffian. A general row en- sued. The unarmed Kings county men re- treated to the bai-rack before the onslaught of the three hxmdred armed yeomen. There, procuring arms, they defended themselves successfully, and killed fom^ of their lawless assailants. Thomas Hogan, a corporal of the Kings county men, was tried for the murder of the brigands, and, incredible as it may appear, was found guilty of manslaughter ! Such was the justice accorded to Catholics in those times ! At Mountratb, in July of the same year, the Orangemen mm-dered the Rev. Mr. Duane, the parish priest. The year following they murdered a man namod Kavanagh in his own house, beating his brains out in the presence of his wife and four children. On the first day of 296 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. this same July, at Balieborough, in the county Cavan, the Orangemen violently attacked the dwelling of the parish priest, fired several shots at him, and left him for dead. Not contented with this, they also wrecked the chapel and wounded and insulted every Catholic they encoun- tered that day. These atrocities, both at Mountrath and Balieborough, so far from having ever brought down just punishment on those guilty of them, seem to have hardly called forth the slightest inquiry. In truth, the Government in those days might be said to give direct encourage- ment to the Orange banditti. Catholics. too, were excluded from positions to which the law now entitled them — from grand- jurorships, for example. If a high- sheriff shewed himself at all favourable to them, he Avas excluded from the next list. Sir Arthur Wellesley, if, during his secretaryship, he was not exactly a party to the Orange atrocities, at least did little or nothing to repress them, and he was uniformly rigorous in canying out mea- sures against the Catholics. Of course, the peasantry were occasionally roused by their wrongs so as to lose all patience. A bailiff, an exterminating agent, or an extortionate tithe-proctor might some- times fall a victim to the vengeance of an oppressed and maddened people. Instead of dealing with the.se crimes under the ordinary forms of lav/, the Govei'nment would carry through Parliament uncon- stitutional Acts, that might, indeed, be justified if a country were actually in a state of insurrection, but in no state of things short of this. If the suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act were not re- newed, an Insurrection Act did the work of tyranny quite as well. In fact, how- ever the names may vary, Ireland almost invariably has coercion Acts under one form or another. There is reason to believe that in Sep- tember, 1808, when the Catholic bishops of Ireland assembled in a national synod to oppose the veto^ the delegates of the Orange societies met in Dawson Street, Dublin, to counteract their resolutions. The incurable bigots, J. C. Beresford, James Verner, Patrick Duigenan, and delegates from seventy-two English lodges (chiefly Lancastrian) attended. It is supposed that at this meeting the Orange- men remodelled their society. Mr. Mitchel i: — "It is not easy to arrive at the exact truth respecting all the secret tests and oaths and degrees of this mischievous body; the precise forms have been from time to time altered, and their 'grand masters' and their organs of the press have boldly denied what is alleged against the society, although such allegation had been true very shortly before, and was substantially true wh^n denied, even if some trifling foi-m may have been altered to justify the denial. Mr. Plowden also, writing in 1810, justly censures the dis- ingenuousness of those Orangemen of education and fortune, who "affect to disclaim everything objectionable in the system, and to throw it exclusively ujDon the incorrigible ignorance and bigotry of the rabble, who are alike in every country, and of every persuasion. This was base artifice to disguise or conceal the countenance and support which the Orange societies have uniformly and unceasingly received from Government. If the obligations and oaths of Orange- men were of a virtuous and beneficial tendency, why not proclaim them aloud? If illegal and dangerous, why criminally conceal them? Whilst the Orange aristo- cracy thus affect to disclaim their own institute in detail, their activity in keep- ing the evil on foot is supereminently criminal." I shall here anticipate events a little, and give a passage from a speech delivered by O'ConneU at an aggregate meeting held in May, 1811 :— ''From most respectable authority I have it, that Orange lodges are increasing in different parts of the country, with the knowledge of those whose duty it is to suppress them. If I have been mis- informed'i I would wish that what I now say may be replied to by any one able to shew that I am wrong. I hold in ray hand the certificate of an Orange purple- man (ivhich he produced), who was ad- vanced to that degree as lately as the 24tli of April, 1811, in a lodge in Dublin. I have adduced this fact to shew you that this dreadful and abominal con- spiracy is still in existence; and I am well informed, and believe it to be the fact, that the king's ministry are well acquainted with this circumstance. I have been also assured that the associa- tions in the North are reorganised, and that a committee of these delegates in Belfast have printed and distributed five hundred, copies of their new constitution. THE LIFE OP DANIEL OCONNELL. 297 This I have heard from excellent autho- rity, and I should not be surprised if the attorney-general knows it. Yet there has been no attempt to disturb these con- spirators, no attempt to visit them with magisterial authority, no attempt to rout this infamous banditti." The lUitish Government knew better than to interfere with the licenti(^isness of such useful allies as the Orange ban- ditti in keeping down Ireland. The Convention Act and the Acts against the administration of secret oaths were always ready, in the legislative armoiy of the foreign government, to be used against patriotic assemblies of delegates, or against patriotic oath-bound societies. But the Orangemen were sure of impunity in all their proceedings. The delegates that as- sembled at their meeting in Dublin had no need to be under the slightest appre- hension of a State prosecution for violating the Convention Act. The Duke of Richmond, however, tried to play a double-dealing game. At the same time that his government did some- thing more than connive at these Orange atrocities, he affected to discountenance bigoted demonstrations in his own pres- ence. This Was with a view to conciliate the Catholics, so as to prevent them from '"agitating" for their rights. As there were many influential Catholics in Mun- ster, he made a conciliatory tour through that province in the year 1809, and gave orders that no exclusive or marked dis- plays of Orangeism should be allowed to take place along his line of route. At Bandon in Cork, the southern stronghold of the Orange society, when the loyal Bandon legion paraded on the 1st of July to celebrate the anniversary of the battle of the Boyne, their commander and grand-master astonished them by a very unusual style of address: "Those Orange emblems," said he " are calculated to keep up animosities ; and his grace the Lord-lieutenant does not wish anything of the sort on the present occasion." At once they dispersed, full of indignation. On the 6th, tlieir next parade-day, they assembled defiantly, eveiy man wearing orange lilies. When ordered to remove those emblems, or else to ground their arms, after a few moments of hesitation, with the exception of twenty - five, all the men of the legion, which was about six himdred strong, angrily threw down both arms and accoutrements. On tlie 24th of July they gave their reasons for so doing. This determined conduct of the Bandon I^egion made the Government for a long time afraid of opp.osing the *• loyal" displays of the Orange society, lest they should in any degree offend and alienate that strongest "garrison" for the maintenance of English dominion in Ireland. But, in spite of the drawback to the success of his tour, occasioned by the so-called "defection of the Bandon Or?mgemen," the viceroy did not AvhoUy fail in the accomplishment of tlie primary object of his excursion. He partially succeeded in gulling the credulous Catholics of Munster. Though he was notoriously and zealously carrymg out the sinister policy of the " No-Popery" Government, the trampled people, long accustomed to contumely, could not help listening with something like satisfaction to his speeches, full of bland and con- ciliatory hypocrisy. It was so pleasant; and comforting to the amour propre of the Catholics, still in a condition of semi- Helotism, to hear him courteously thank- ing Dr. Power, the Cathohc bishop of Waterford, for his aid in putting dov/n the disturbances in that county. It was still more delightfully soothing when he assured the bishop that he had special instructions from His Majesty to make no distinction between Protestant and Catholic, and when he lamented that he had no power to deviate from the laws that imposed disabilities on the Catholics. At the dmner given to him at the Mansion House in Cork, when the toast of " The Protestant Ascendency of Ireland'''' was announced, he declared he wished to see no ascendency in Ireland, but that of loyalty. At another dinner, given by the merchants, traders, and bankers of the same city, his beautiful sentunents of toleration out-Heroded the balmiest style of English cant. He said, " He wondered that, religion being only occupied with a great object of eternal concern, men should be excited to rancorous enmity because they sought the same end by paths somewhat different." Mr. Mitchel says: "This kind of language, which has been the common style of Irish viceroys ever since, was first brought in vogue by the No-Popcnj Duke of Richmond." Be this as it may, his thrice-brassy British impudence gidled the Catholics naore or less, and deadened for the time the vigour 298 THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONXrLL. of their efforts to achieve emancipation, and this although many of the Ii'ish Catholic soldiers in the British army were at this very period undergoing an abso- lute religious persecution. I shall here quote jNlr. IVEtchel's summary of one or two of those cases : — "At Enniskillen, a Lieutenant Walsh turned a soldier's coat, in order to dis- grace him, for refusing to attend the Protestant service ; others were effectually prevented from attending the service of their own church by an order not to quit the barracks till two o'clock on the Sun- day, when the Catholic service was over, as at Newry. The case which acquired the most publicity, and produced the strongest effect upon Ireland, was that of Patrick Spence, a private in the county Dub- lin militia, who had been required (though known to be a Catholic) to attend the divine service of the Established Church, and, upon refusal, was thrown into the Black Hole. During his imprisonment he wrote a letter to Major White, his commanduig officer, iirging that in obey- ing the paramount dictates of conscience he had in no manner broken in upon military discipline. He was shortly after brought to a court-martial, upon a charge that his letter was disrespectful and had a mutinous tendency. He was convicted, and sentenced to receive nine hundi-ed and ninety -nine lashes. Upon being brought out to undergo that punishment, an offer was made to him to commute it for an engagement to enlist in a corps constantly serving abroad. This he ac- cepted, and was transmitted to the Isle of Wight, in order to be sent out of the kingdom. The case having been re^jre- sented to the Lord - lieutenant by Dr. Troy, the titular Archbishop of Dublin, Mr. W. Pole wrote him a letter, which stated that the sentence had been passed upon Spence for writing the disrespectful letter — not denying, therefore admitting, that the committal to the ' Black Hole ' was for the refusal to attend the Pro- testant Church; but that, under all the circumstances, the Commander-in-chief had considered the punishment excessive, and had ordered the man to be liberated, and to join his regiment. When Spence arrived in Dublin, he was confined several days, and then discharged altogether from the army. The copy of Spence's letter, which he vouched to be authentic, con- tained nothing in it either disrespectful or mutinous. The original letter was often called for, and always refused by those who had it in their possession, and might consequently, by its production, determine the justice of the sentence of nine hundred and ninety-nine lashes." Xo officer was ever punished or repri- manded for any one of the many instances of petty tyi-anny of this description that occurred. From this fact the reader may estimate the sincerity and practical worth of the Duke's post-prandial sentiments of toleration. In the year 1809, Mr. Parnell tried, in the House of Commons, to carry a motion for inquiry into the mode of collecting- tithes in Ireland. In the debate which followed, Sir John Newport accused Lord Castlereagh of forgetting all the pledges he had made at the time of the Union to promote the public welfare of Ireland. Castlereagh stated that he knew of no pledge made, either by Mr. Pitt or himself, about tithes or the Catholic question. He even audaciously denied that he had ever made any pledge whatever as to Ireland. Mr. C. Hutchinson assailed him also ; but Castlereagh was in a posi- tion to treat with scorn these isolated efforts on behalf of Irish rights. The motion was of course set aside. In or about this time we find O'Con- nell attending an anti-tithe meeting in his native county, Kerry. He held up the advocates of the iniquitous and op- pressive tithe - system to ridicule. He shewed up the greed of the Protestant parsons, who took the potatoes of the Catholic peasantry as tithe, without giving them any value in return, and jocularly said, that, "if they deprived the peasant of the staff of life, they should cany hun on their shoulders." He succeeded in carrying tlie anti - tithe resolutions. Probably this was bis first occasion for displaying his oratorical powers in his native county. On the 24th of May, 1809, a weU- attended meetmg of Catholics was held in the Assembly Pooms, William Street, Dublin. The requisition calluig the meet- ing was signed by Lord Netterville, Sir Francis Goold, Daniel O'Connell, Richard O'Goi-man (father to Eichard O'Gorman of New York), Edward Hay (author of the History of the Wexford Rebellion)^ Dennis Scully, Dr. Dromgoole, and other familiar names. IMr. O'Gorman proposed to petition Parhament. John Keogh THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. 299 opposed this. He spoke bitterly of the treachery of English statesmen toward the Catholics in the affair of the- Union. In the English Commons they had • nothing but enemies or lukewarm friends. The present ministry came into office on the express terms of excluding the Catholic claims. Their predecessors had willingly consented to abandon a bill, only nominally in favour of the Catholics, to save their places. The Catholics were doubly deceived at the time of the Union. The proposals for their support from the Unionists and Anti-unionists were hollow. Had the Catholics been then liberally treated by their Parliament, they would have raised a cry in its defence, and the Union would have been shaken to atoms. 'No one had a right to suppose he wished to relinquish the Catholic claims. With his dying breath he would recommend them never to relax in the pursuit of their rights. No man could expect success to the • petition. Without that expecta- tion he saw no probability of aught but mischievous consequences from the mea- sure. He resisted it, not to retard, but to forward their claims. Mr. Keogh's resolution passed ; but the meeting then organised a new Catholic Committee, consisting of the Catholic peers, the survivors of the Catholic dele- gates of 1793, and certain gentlemen lately appointed by the Catholics of Dub- lin to prepare an address. The meeting resolved that these persons "do possess the confidence of the Catholic body." This Committee was to consider the ex- pediency of preparing a petition, not to the present, but to the next session of Parliament. O'Conjiell, seeing clearly that this permanent general committee might, by the artifices of the jealous Government, be made to appear as coming under the provisions of the Con- vention Act, introduced, v/ith a view to guard against this legal danger, a resolu- tion, ' ' That the noblemen and gentlemen aforesaid are not representatives of the Catholic body, or any portion thereof; nor shall they assume or pretend to be repre- sentatives of the Catholic body, or any portion thereof." O'ConnelFs resolution was carried unanimously. Thus, while it was desirable that the committee should seem to speak the general sense of the Catholic body, because, whenever Grat- tan would present a Catholic petition in the House of Commons, he would be met invariably with the objection "that such petition did not speak the general sense of the Catholics," it was, at the same time, necessary to guard against the snares and perils of the Convention Act. But after all, in spite of O'Connell's in- genuity, a packed jiiry could easily be found to bring the members of the committee within the provisions of the Convention Act. Still, for the present, the Catholic cause seemed to acquire fresli vigour from the permanent organi- sation of such an influential committee. The recent adhesion of a number of clever lawyers to the agitation also tended to increase its prestige. In the year 1810 the veto question came up again. The English Catholics were in favour of it. The Irish strenuously opposed it. A printed copy of a plan of emancipation, on the terms of giving the king a veto on the appointment of the Catholic bishops, while at the same time a St0.te provision should be made for the clergy, was enclosed by Sir John Cox Hippesley, an English member of Parlia- ment, in a letter to Dr. Troy. This was read by the secretary, Mr. Hay, to a large meeting of the Catholics of Dublin, held late in January, 1810. This project, tempting as it was, was rejected with indignation. Clergy and laity equally spm-ned it. A petition for unconditional emancipation was brought by Lord Fingal to London. Mr. Grattau, vexed at the opposition to the veto, said he presented it merely to have the claims of the Ca- thohcs put on record. He was sorry no sentiment in favoiu- of the veto seemed to prevail. "The Pope," he said, "was almost certain now to be a subject of France ; and a subject of France, or French citizen, could never be permitted to nominate the spiritual magistrates of the people of Ireland." This was more like opposiag the prayer of the petition than supporting it. Grattan's violent horror of "French influence" was weak and absurd, utterly unworthy of so great an Irishman. It is not surprisiiig that the motion in favour of the Catholics was lost by a majority of one hundred and four. In the Upper House, Lord Dououghmore presented the petition, and supported it with an advocacy more generous than Grat tan's. No one, he said, was ignorant that unity under one and the same head " was the essential distinguishing chai'acteristic of the Ca- 300 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. tholic Church, and yet they were told that the Irish Catholics were the most unreasonable of men, because they would not renounce upon oath this first tenet of their religion, and consent to recognise ' a new head of their church in the person of a Protestant king." He also ridiculed the apprehensions of the bigots. The petition, however, was rejected by a majority of eighty-six. In the course of the disputes on the veto question, which ranged over several years. O'Connell was opposed by Stephen Woulfe, a man wlio. after distinguishing himself both at the lay College of May- nooth and in Trinity College, was now one of the most promising of the Catholic lawyei'S — indeed, one of the most intel- lectual men, Catholic or Protestant, to be found at the Irish bar. lie A\as also known in the world of letters. "Woulfe was a native of tlie county Clare, where j he inherited a small estate. He was a man of tall stature (six feet high), with a countenance that bespoke his mental power. In- the early period of his pro- fessional career he took so much interest in the strife of politics that his friends thought he was neglecting his own affairs for the concerns of his countrj\ How- ever, he was destined, years after, when emancipation was achieved, to attain the exalted dignity of Lord Chief-Baron. Sir Michael O'Loghlen, the JMaster of the PioUs. and he were the first Catholic judges. Plunket paid homage to Woulfe's great abilities, by asking in the English House of Commons, "What could com- pensate the British empire for the exclu- sion from its public service, which the penal laws necessitated, of such a mind -as that of him who wTote the admirable treatise entitled The Balance of Evils f'' It is stated by some that the famous apoph- thegm. ' • Property lias its duties as well as its rights," the credit of which has been given to the Scotchman Drummond, in reality belongs to Woulfe, and that he communicated the saying in a letter to Drummond. At all events, a sentence of his—" To foster public opinion and make it racy of the soil"— was honoured by being made the motto of that celebrated Irish patriotic paper, the old Nation. Woulfe had a shrill, piercing voice, that lent a strange effect to his oi-atory. I have seen in the Dublin Citizen an odd description of its higher notes The writer says, apparently without any in- tention of being funny, " Scald an eagle in melted lead, and his scream will give you some idea of the tones of Woulfe in a state of excitement." I quote this from memory. It is well that the writer didn't- pun on the name of Wolfe Tone. I may add that O'Connell esteemed Woulfe highly, in spite of their difference of opinion on the question of the veto. On the morning- of the 20th of January, 1843 (the repeal year), the Rev. Dr. i'oll of Newcastle, county Limerick, at his own breakfast-table, after pi-aising Chief-Baron Woulfe,then deceased, said to the Liberator, "Ibeheve. Mr. O'tlonnell, he wasstrongty opposed to you on the veto (Question." '• Yes," answered O'Connell; " Woulfe thought that emancipation should be pur- chased at the expense of handing over to Government the appomtment of the Ca- tholic bishops under the name of a veto. The only occasion in which we came into public collision with each other on that subject was at a great meeting in Limerick, when he made a powerful speech — as powerful as could be made in a bad cause — in favour of the veto. He came forward to the front of the gal- lery — we were in the body of the house — and in the delivery of his discourse there was manifested some little disj^osition to interrupt him ; but I easily prevented that. When I rose in reply, I told the story of the sheep that were fatteniiig under the protection of their dogs, when an address to them to get rid of their dogs was pre- sented by the wolves. I said that the leading Woulfe (pronounced wolf) came forward to the front of the gallery and persuaded the sheep to give up the dogs ; they obeyed him, and were instantly de- voured: and I then expressed a hope that the Catholics of Ireland would be warned by that example never to yield to a Woufe again. With that pleasantry our differences ended; for he admitted that the popular sentiment was against him, and he gave up any further agitation of the question." •' I well recollect that occasion," said Dr. Coll to Mr. Daunt; "and afterward. AVoulfe observed : ' How useless it is to contend with O'Connell! Here I have made an oration that I had been elaborat- ing for three weeks previously, and this man entirely demolishes the effect of all my rhetoric by a flash of humour and a pun upon my name.'" Although this may have been O'L'ou- THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. 301 Bell's only direct collision with Woulfe on the veto question, he had, nevertheless, otlier encounters with Woulfe that had reference to subjects of debate, which arose out of the divisions, among the emanci- pationists, on this angrily-vexed question. In the summer of the year 181U a loud demand for the repeal of the accursed Act of Union was made in Dublin. It began with the Protestants, though subsequently the Catholics chimed in witii their patriotic cry. In the Corporation of Dublin, then exclusively Protestant, Mr. Hutton, pur- suant to notice, made an able speech, in which he gave a vivid picture of the bankruptcy, famine, ruin, and despair visible in every street of the city. The nation's debt, he said, was ninety millions sterling. Two millions, ^vi'ung from the sweat of the peasantry, were squandered abroad by absentees. Two millions and a-half more went as interest on that in- supportable debt. His resolutions to the effect that repeal was the cure for all these evils, in spite of the vehement opposition of Jack Giffai'd and his crew, were carried by a majority of thirty. Next followed a requisition from the grand jurors of Dublin to the two high- siieriffs. Sir Edward Stanley and Sir James Iliddall, to call a meeting of freemen and freeliolders, to consider •• the necessity that exists of presenting a petition to His Ma- jesty and Imperial Parliament for a lepeal of the Act of Union." Stanl&y refused to summon the meeting: " it would agitate," said he, "the public mind." Kiddall, however, called it, and, on the 18th of September, 181U, Protestants and Ca- tholics were unanimous in ascribing the misery of their country to the operation of the baneful Union. On this occasion O'Connell made a powerful speech. I shall give from it several specimens of our hero's eloquence at this comparatively «a.rly period of his public life. After a lively picture of the evU con- sequences of the Union, which blighted all the bounteous gifts showered by Pro- vidence on Ireland and her inhabitants — after shewing that the Act was a violation •of the national and inherent rights of the Irish people — after quoting tiie autho- rities of the greatest lawyers against its legality, the orator thus proceeds: — '' Tli(i Union was, therefore, a manifest injustice, and it continues to be unjust at this day ; it was a crime, and must be still criminal. unless it shall be ludicrously pretended that crime, like wine, improves by old age, and that time niollifi(\s injustice into innocence. You may smile at the sup- position, but in sober sadness you must be convinced that we daily suffer injus- tice, that every succeeding day adds only another sin to the catalogue of British vice, and that if the Union continues, it will only make crime hereditary, and in- justice perpetual. We have been robbed, my countrjrmen, most foully robbed, of our birthright, of our independence. May it not be permitted to us mournfully to ask how this consummation of evil was perfected ? * * * How, then, have we become enslaved? Alas! England, that ought to Jiave been to us a sister and a friend — England, whom we had loved" (Humbug of the firat water! Oh., most icon- derful. and sometinica deluding Daniel!)., "and fought and bled for — England, whom we have protected, and wliom we do protect — England, at a period when, out of one hundred thousand seamen in her service, seventy thousand were Irish — England stole upon us, like a thief in the night, and robbed us of the precious gem of our liberty; she stole from us ' that which in naught enriched her, but made us poor indeed.'" {What does he mean by saying, " that which in naught enriched her?'') "Reflect, then, myfriends, on the means employed to accomplish this disastrous measure. I do not speak of the meaner instruments of bribery and corruption— we all know that everything was put to sale — nothmg profane nor sacred was omitted in the Union mart — offices in the revenue, commands in the army and navy, the sacred ermine of justice, and the holy altars of God were all profaned and polluted as the rewards of Union servicer By a vote in favom- of the Union, ignorance, incapacity, and profligacy obtained certain promotion; and our iU-fated but beloved country was degraded to her utmost hmits before she was transfixed in slavery. * * * Even the rebellion was an accidental and secondary cause; the real cause of the Union lay deeper, but it is quite ob^aous. It is to be found at once in the religious dissensions which the enemies of Ireland have created and continued, an'd seek to perpetuate amongst ourselves by tellmg us of, and separating us into wretched sections and miserable subdivisions. They separated the Protestant from the Catho- lic, and the Presbyterian from both ; they 302 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. revived every antiquated cause of domestic animosity, and they invented new pre- texts of rancour; but above all, my countrymen, they belied and calumniated us to each other; they falsely declared that we hated each other, and they con- tinued to repeat the assertion untO. we came to believe it; they succeeded in pro- ducing all the madness of party and reli- gious distinctions ; and, while we were lost in the stupor of insanity, they plundered us of our country, and left us to recover at our leisure from the horrid delusion into which we had been so artfully conducted. " Such, then, were the means by which the Union was effectuated. It has stripped us of commerce and wealth ; it has degraded us, and deprived us, not only of our station as a nation, but even of the name of our covmtr3^ We are governed by foreigners ; foreigners make our laws; for were the one hundred members who nominally represent Ire- land in what is called the Imperial Par- liament — were they really our represen- tatives, what influence could they, although unbought and unanimous, have over the five hundred and fifty -eight English and Scotch members? But what is the fact? Why, that out of the one hundred, such as they are, that sit for this country, more than one-fifth know nothing of us, and are unknown to us. * * * Sir, when I talk of the utter ignorance in Irish affairs of the members of the Imperial Parliament, I do not exaggerate or mistake — the ministers themselves are in absolute darkness with respect to this country. I undertake to demonstrate it. Sir, they have presumed to speak of the growing prosperity of Ireland. I know them to be vile and profligate — I cannot be suspected of flattering them — yet, vile as thej^ are, I do not believe they could have had the audacity to insert in the speech, supposed to be spoken by His Majesty, that expres- sion, had they known that, in fact, Ire- land was in abject and increasing poverty. * * * 'When you detect the ministers themselves in such gross ignorance as, upon such authority, to place an insulting- falsehood, as it were, in the mouth of our revered sovereign — what, think you, can be the fitness of nine minor imps of legislation to make laws for Ireland? * * * I would be glad to see the face of the man, or rather of the beast, who could dare to say he thought the Union wise or gOod; for the being v/ho could say so must be devoid of all the feelings that distinguish humanity. * * * The Union has continued only because we despaired of its repeal. Upon this de- spair alone has it continued; yet what can be more absurd than such despair? If the Irish sentiment be but once known, if the voice of six millions be raised from Cape Clear to the Giant's Causeway, if the men most remarkable for loyalty to their king and attachment to constitu- tional liberty will come forward as the leaders of the public voice, the nation would, in an hour, grow too great for the chains that now shackle you, and the Union must be repealed without commo- tion and without difficulty. Let the most timid amongst us compare the present probability of repealing the Union with the prospect that, in the year 1796, existed of that measure being ever brought about. Who in 1795 thought a union possible? Pitt dared to attempt it, and he succeeded: it only requires the resolu- tion to attempt its repeal — in fact, it requires only to entertain the hope of repealing it — to make it impossible that the Union should continue. But that pleasing hope can never exist whilst the infernal dissensions on the score of religion are kept up. The Protestant alone could not expect to hberate his country ; the Roman Catholic alone could not do it ; neither could the Presbyterian ; but amalgamate the three into the Irish- man, and the Union is repealed. Learn discretion from your enemies: they have crushed yoiu" country by fomenting religious discord — serve her by abandon- ing it for ever. Let each man give iip his siiare of the mischief^ let each man. forsake every feeling of rancour. But I say not this to barter with you, my countrymen ; I require no equivalent from you. Whatever course you shall take, my mind is fixed. I trample under foot the Catholic claims, if they can interfere with the repeal ; I abandon all wish for emancipation, if it delays the repeal. jSTay, were Mr. Perceval to-moiTOw ta offer me the repeal of the Union upon the terms of re-enacting the entire penal code, I declare it from my heart, and in the presence of my God, that I icould most cheerfully embrace ]iis offer. Let us, then, my beloved coimtrymen, sacrifice our wicked and groundless animosities on the altar of our covmtry ; let that spirit whicli, THE LIFE OF DANIEL CONNELL. 303 Iieretofore emanating from Dungannon, spread all over tlie island and gave light and libei-ty to the land, be again cherished amongst us ; let us rally around the stand- ard oi old Ireland, and we shall easily procure tliat greatest of political bless- ings, an Irish king, and Irish House of Lords, and an Irish House of Commons." Long-continued applause followed the closj of this noble peroration. Resolu- tions to petition for repeal were adopted unanimously. This speech not merely produced a great effect on the audience that listened to it with breathless atten- tion in tlie hall of the Royal Exchange, but it deeply moved the entire nation. The cause of repeal, from first to last, stirred to its inmost depths the heart of O'Connell, and consequently his words on the theme of seK-government always had magical effect on the minds and feel- ings of his countrjTnen. His appeals to the sentiment of Irish nationality never failed to find a response in every true Irishman's heart — aye, to agitate the true man's whole being to its very centre. From the moment that this oration, printed on a broad sheet, and surmounted v/ith the orator's portrait, was circulated throughout the island, the Catholics looked T/ith pride and hope and exulta- tion to our hero as their future leader; a--id, in truth, before the close of that very year, O'Connell was the recognised leader of the Irish people — at least of the people of the old, unconquerable Celtic race. I shaU take from Mr. Dauut's Personal Uecollectmns, the Liber- ator's own short nari-ative of his acces- sion to the popular leadership : — "I also spoke in support of the re- peal" — said O'Connell, referring to the gi'eat meeting at the Exchange, which I have just spoken of — " and thence- forth do I date my first great lift in poj>ularity. Keogh saw that I was cal- culated to become a leader. He subse- quently tried to impress me with his own policy respecting Catholic affairs. The course he then recommended was a sullen quiescence: he urged that the Catholics should abstain altogether from agitation, and he laboured hard to bring me to adopt his views. But I saw that agitation was our only available weapon. I saw that by incessantly keeping our demands and our grievances before the public and the Government, we must jsooner or later succeed. Moreover, that period, above all others, was not one at which our legitimate weapon, agita- tion, could have prudently been let to rust. It was during the war, and Avhile Napoleon — that splendid madman ! " (Oh, DanieUfor shame!) — " made the Catholics of Ireland so essential to the military defence of the empire, the time seemed peculiarly appropriate to press our claims. About that period a great Catholic meet- ing was held. John Keogh was then old and infirm; but his presence was eagerly- desired, and the meeting awaited his arrival with- patient good-humour. I and another were deputed to request his attendance. John Keogh had this peculiarity — that when he was waited on about matters of business, he would talk away on all sorts of subjects except the business which had brought his visitors. Accordingly, he talked a great deal about everything except Catholic I^olitics for the greatest portion of our visit ; and when at length we pressed him to accompany us to the meeting, the worthy old man harangued us for a quarter of an hour to demonstrate the impolicy of publicly assembling at all, and ended by coming to the meeting. He drew up a resolution, which de- nounced the continued agitation of the Catholic question at that time. This resolution, proceeding as it did from a tried old leader, was carried. I then rose and proposed a counter-resolution, pledging us aE to incessant, unrelaxing agitation; and such were the wiseacres with whom I had to deal, that they passed my resolution in the midst of enthusiastic acclamations, without once dreaming that it ran directly coimter to John Keogh's! Thenceforward, I may say, I was the leader. Keogh called at my house some short time after; he paid me many com- pliments, and repeated his importunities that I might alter my policy. But I was inexorable : my course was resolved upon and taken. I refused to yield. He de- parted in bad hmnour, and I never saw him afterwards. " Keogh was undoubtedly useful in his day. But he was one who would rather that the cause should fail, than that any- body but himself should have the honour of carrying it." In truth, before the repeal meeting, O'Connell had virtually become leader. A vote of thanks had been passed by the Catholic Committee to Keogh " for his 304 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL, long and faithful services to the cause of Catholic emancipation." Also a manifesto, signed " Daniel 0"Conuell, chairman," had been issued by the same body, urging the people to adopt a new and more combined form of political action. The continual rejection of the Catholic petitions by the Houses of Par- liament shewed plainly that, to make the CatlioUc cause succeed, a more vigorous policy and a more energetic will were re- quired, than had hitherto been brought forward to direct the movement. O'Con- nell's address proposed a plan of action somewhat similar to that adopted in all his subsequent agitations. The com- mittee was to act as a central body in Dublin. But there were also to be per- manent local boards all through the country, holding communication indeed with tue central body, but preserving a large power of independent action. Fre- quent local meetings were recommended, from which beneficial results to the general cause were expected by the committee. This system of self -agency, it was argued, would produce coherence of conduct adequate to insure success. "In the exercise of the elective franchise, for instance," the address said, "what infinite good might not result from Catholic coherence! What painful ex- amples are annually exhibited of the mischief flowing from the want of this coherence ! " The mode of action of the organisation was to be peaceful and legal ; at the same time there was the half - uttered threat, or at least liirU, that the people, if redress of their grievances were delayed too long, might at last lose patience, and seek to win their rights by violent methods. Though repeal of the Union was pro- bably dearer to O'Connell's heart (we have his own word, repeatedly uttered, that it was so), and assuredly dearer to the hearts of the majority of the Irish people, than emancipation ; yet, as the latter was, for obvious reasons, easier of achievement than the former (I have shewn, at the commencement of the pre- liminary sketch, why the latter could be achieved by peaceful agitation, and why, according to my judgment, the former could not), so he deemed it the practical question to grapple with in the first in- stance. Emancipation once achieved, he might begin to look for repeal. In carrying on his agitations, O'Con- nell was not ashamed of repeating himself frequently in his speeches. It was im- possible for a man, speaking so often on the same subjects, to avoid this repeti- tion. Besides, in politics as in religion, the broad and grand essential truths are comparatively few in number, and they need constant iteration. Xapoleon and Fox believed in the efiicacy of repetition to saturate the mind with conviction. When the Dublin Evening Mail sneered at O'Connell for repeating himself, mak- ing light of the censure, he merely said that he would continue to enunciate those great truths again and again. The fol- lowing remarks, made to his fi-iend Mr. Daunt one clay, immediately after he had given a clever rehash of many former speeches at the Corn Exchange, are valu- able, as giving his notions on the subject of repetition : — " Now, there are many men who shrink from repeating themselves, and who actu- ally feel a repiignance to deliver a good sentiment or a good argument, just be- cause they have delivered that sentiment or that argument before. This is very foolish. It is not by advancing- a political truth once or twice, or even ten times, that the public will take it up and firmly adopt it. Mo; incessant repetition is required to impress political truths upon the public mind. That which is but once or twice advanced may jiossibly strike for a moment, but will then pass away from the public recollection. Y ou must repeat the same lesson over and over again, if you hope to make a per- manent impression — if, in fact, you hope to infix it on your pupil's memory. Such has always been my practice. My object was to familiarise the whole people of Ireland with important political truths: and I could never have done this if I had not incessantly repeated those truths. I have done so pretty successfully. Men, by always hearing the same things, insensibly associate them with received truisms. They find the facts at last quietly reposing in a corner of their minds, and no more think of doubtmg them than if they formed part of their religious belief. I have often been amused when, at public meetings, men have got up and delivered my old political lessons in my presence, as if they were new dis- coveries worked out by their own inge- nuity and research. But this was tlie triumph of my labour. I had made the TUB LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 305 facts and sentiments so universally familiar, that men took them lip and gave them to the public as their own." One of the reporting staff, on constant duty at the Repeal Association, once re- marked to Mr. O'Xeill Daunt, "Mr. O'C'onnell always ivcars out one speech before he gives us another." In October, 1810, King George the Third became a lunatic once more, or perhaps it would be more correct to say, he sank into drivelling idiotcy. From this attack he never recovered. The little stock of wits he ever possessed was now gone for ever. From this time for- ward, in hopeless and helpless imbecility and darkness, his bodily vision dai'kened like his mental, the aged king dragged along the remaining years of his now wretched existence, confined to liis palace, occasionally knocking his hoary head, discrowned by God's dread visitation, against the velvet-lined and carefully- padded walls of his sumptuous apartments, as he went wandering and groping about amid regal magnificence, which seemed to be a bitter mockery of " T/iis old, blind, mad, helpless, weak, poor worm.'' For over a decade of weary years the '• once-feared" monarch survived thus miserably. While he had been at all able to exercise the functions of royalty, he had been an inveterate foe and an in- superable obstacle to the realisation of Catholic emancipation, more througli a perverted conscientiousness than a deli- berate inclination to oppress. As he was narrow-minded to a degree, his conscience was called on to sanctify the most erro- neous notions. His natural firmness th en, as a matter of course, degenerated into a stupid and obstinate clinging to wrong. Thus, his obstinacy in the dispute -with the American colonies -cost England her noblest American dependencies, millions of treasure, and deluges of blood. The same obstinacy exercised its banefid in- fluence over his European policy. But, above all, the Cathohcs of Ireland looked on it as the source of their continued thraldom. Accordingly, the accession of his eldest son, George, Prince of Wales, to the regency, filled them with extravagant liopes. In fact, they believed at first that the only obstacle to their emancipa- tion was at length removed. The regent had not merely made repeated professions of his good-will to the Catholics and their cause ; he was even known to have pledged himself expressly, on more than one occasion, that, as soon as he should enjoy the regal authority, he would do everything in his power to secure Catholic emancipation. In 1806 he had pledged himself to this effect through the Duke of Bedford, in order to induce the Catholics not to urge their claims. Chancellor Ponsonby, the same year, put forward a similar promise in the name of the ])rince- regent. It was stated that he had given such a pledge to Lord Kenmare at Chel- tenham. But, above all, it was believed that he had given a formal pledge to Lord Fingal, in the • presence of the Lords Petre and Chfford, and that this pledge was taken down in writing, and signed by these noblemen shortly after the ter- mination of the royal interview. What- ever disputes might arise about particular cases of alleged promises on his part, there was no doubt whatever that the prince had bound himself in honour to the sustainment of the Catholic cause on more than one occasion. Nevertheless, this base and thoroughly-depraved wretch, whose whole life proves him to have been utterly destitute of faith, and 'truth, and honour, yet who has been stjded, with pretty general acceptance (such is the innate flunkeyism of the majority of man- kind), " the finest gentleman of his age," no sooner found himself in possession of the regal power than he resolved, with- out scruple or hesitation, on violating all his pledges. In short, he retained the sanctimonious bigot Perceval as his prime minister, and surrounded himself with the bitterest enemies of the Catholic cause. It has been stated that he was influenced to this violation of his plighted faith and honour chiefly by the persua- sions and fascinations of the Marchioness of Hertford, the lady who was his mistress at the time he became prince -regent. This betwitching siren was then some- what more than fifty years of age. The taste of his royal highness generally preferred lady-loves who were '"fat, fair, and forty" to more youthful and less full-blown charmers. On the present occasion, the royal voluptuary took delight in beauty still more ripened by time. I shall shortly have occasion to refer to this mature enchantress. Lady Hertford, and the famous " witchery" resolutions that SOG THE LIFE OF DANIEL O'CONNELL. were called forth by her anti-Catholic interference. The prince was not content even with breaking his promise to the Catholics. An aggressive policy towards the Catholic Committee was resolved on An attempt to suppress it must be maLlc. It was all veiy well to tolerate it v.^hile a feeble, pliable peer, a friend to the veto, too, like Lord Fingal, was the recognised head of the Catholics; but, with a bold and vigorous intellect like O'Connell's direct- ing their affairs, the committee was likely to become too formidable to " the powers that be." Accordingly, on the 12th of February, 1811, AVellcsley Pole, who had eucceeded his brother, Sir Arthur Welles- ley (the latter was now (jommanding the British army in the Peninsula), as chief secretary for Ireland, issued a confusedly- ■\Tritten circular, addressed to the sheriffs and principal magistrates of Ireland. In this dociiment the Catholic Committee is denounced as "an unlawful assembly sitting in Dublin." Wellesley Pole was ■desirous to bring the action of the mem- bers of the Catholic Committee within the sweep of the Convention Act. His circular contains the following not very lucid direc- tions to the sheriffs: — "You are required, in pursuance of the provisions of an Act of the 33d of the king, c. 29, to cause to be arrested and commit to prison (unless bail shall be given) all persons within your jurisdiction who shall be guilty of giving, or having given or published, any written or other notice of the election or appointment, in any manner, of such repre- sentative, delegate, or manager as afore- said; or if attending, voting, or acting; or of having attended, voted, or acted .in any manner in the choice or appoint- ment of such representative, delegate, or manager; and you are to commimicate these directions, as far as lies in youi' power, forthwith to the several magistrates of the same county." O'Connell, as we have seen, had exer- cised aU his foresight to secure the com- mittee from the snai'es of the Convention Act. His foresight, however, proved unavaHing. The impudence of some of his associates gave an opening to the Government. Lord Fingal and others were arrested. The question, whether the provisions of the Convention Act had been violated, was submitted to a jury, in the persons of Dr. Sheridan and Mr. Kirwan. The -State prosecution of Dr. Sheridan commenced on the 21st of November, 1811. .The question Avas, What did the words in the Act, " under pretence of petitioning," mean ? The Crown laAvyers maintained that pretence meant purpose, and that the Catholics, even when meeting for the bona fide (genuine, in good faith) purpose of petition- ing, came under the jDrohibitions of the Convention Act. The coixnsel for the traverser maintained that if delegates assembled really and truly to peti- tion Parliament, then the meeting was quite legal. The Castle was baffled. O'Connell gained great credit by this case. He was not, indeed, a leading counsel. Being kept by the Catholic disabilities from the inner bar, of course the king's counsel took precedence of him. But he was able to shew his great skill in cross-examination. No man could surpass him in throwing a witness off his guard, by first asking him a series of apparently indifferent questions, and then, having led him into the snai-e, perplexins: and confounding him by a rapid fire of unexpected interrogatories. Besides, it was generally believed that the plan of defence was suggested by him. The escape of Dr. Sheridan was a great triumph, especially as the jury were Protestants. The Catholics, elated by their triumph, resolved to hold a meetiug for the pur- pose of petitionmg. They assembled in Fishamble Street Theatre a few days after the trial. Before Lord Fingal — ^who, it was intended, should be chairman — had arrived, a police-magistrate entered, and stood beside the vacant chair. He t;xcited no small amount of curiosity in the minds of those present. On the arrival of Lord Fingal, the combative Counsellor Hussey — he of the fiery-red locks — at once stood up and moved "that the I-arl of Fingal do take the cha^r." O'Connell quietly seconded the motion. Next, Lord Net- terville moved, and Nicholas Purcell O'Gorman, barrister, seconded the re- solution, that " the Catholic petition be now read." At this stage of the proceed- ings the police magistrate began taking a part in the scene, and the action of the drama became interesting and lively. Police Magistrate. "My Lord Fingal, I beg to state my object in coming here. His Excellency the Lord-lieutenant has been informed that this is a meeting of the Catholic Committee, composed of the THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 307 peers, prelates, countr}^ jjentlemen, and persons chosen in the different parishes of Ireland. I come here by direction of the Lord-lieutenant, and as a magistrate of the city of Dublin I ask you, the chau'- man of this meeting, if that be the case? and if so, Avhat is your object?" Lord Finr/al. " Our purpose in coming here is perfectly legal and constitutional." Magistrate. "That is not an answer to my question." Lord Fingal. "Wliat is your question?" Magistrate. '' I ask, is this a meeting of the Catholic Committee — a meeting com- posed of the peers, prelates, coimtry gentlemen, and others of the city of bublm?" Lo7-d Fingal. "I certainly do not feel myself bound to give you any other answer than that I have already given. We have met for the sole, legal, and con- stitutional purpose of petitioning." Magistrate. " My lord, I ask you, as chaii'man of this meeting, in what capacity are yovi met?" Lord Fingal. " We are met to petition Parliament." It is clear that Lord Fingal is determined not to let the magistrate get much out of him. Magistrate. " My Lord, that is not an answer to my question. I hope I have leave to speak?" Some disturbance.amongthe people had occurred at this point of the proceedings. However, it stopped, when several voices cried out, "Hear the magistrate.^ Hear the magistrate!'" Magistrate. " I beg leave to ask your lordship again, is this a meeting of tlie Catholic Committee, constituted by the Catholic peers, prelates, country gentle- men, and the persons appointed in the several parishes of Dublin?" Lord- Fingal. " I am not aware that I can give you any other answer than that I have already given." Magistrate. " Then, my lord, your answer is, that you are a meeting of Catholics assembled for a legal and con- stitutional purpose ? '" Here several pei-sons cried out, "No, no ; there was no answer in such terms." O'Connell. " It is a most unusual thing for any magistrate to come into a public meeting to catechise, ask questions, and put his own constructions upon the answers." Magistrate. " My lord, am I to under- stand that jon decline telling me fully what meeting you are, and the purpose of your meeting?" Lord Fingal. "We are met for a legal and constitutional purpose." Magistrate. " I wish to be distinctly understood. Am I to understand that you will give no other answer to my question? Do you give no other an- swer?" Here some disturbance interrupted the magistrate. One person cried, " Read the petition;" another cried, "Where's. Mr. Hay? Hear the magistrate!" Magistrate. "My Lord Fingal, I con- sider your declining to give me an answer as an admission that this is the Committee of the Catholics of Ireland." O^ConneU. " As what passes here may be given in evidence, I beg leave to say that the magistrate has received a distinct answer to his question. It is not for him to distort any answer he has received into a meaning of his own; he is to take th& words in their literal signification." Magistrate. " My lord, I consider your refusing to give any other ansAver as an admission of the fact of f'.is being the Catholic Committee." O'Connell. " If you please to tell gentle- men that such is your belief, it is of no- consequence to us. We arc not to be bound by your opinion." Magistrate (doggedly). " Does your lordship deny that this is the Catholic Committee? " Counsellor Finn. "My Lord Fingal has neither given you admission nor denial." O^Connell. "We do not want the ma- gistrate's assistance to make out meanings for us. Let him not imagine that he can bind this meeting by any assertion he thinks proper to make." JMagistrate. "Then, I repeat that your lordship's refusal to give me a darect answer is an admission that this meeting is the Catholic Committee, and being such, it is an unlawful assembly. As such I require it to disperse. It is my wish to discharge my duty in as mild a manner as possible. I hope no resistance will be offered. I hope that I need not have recourse to the means I am intrusted with for the purpose of dispersing the meeting." Lord Fingal. " I do not intend to resist the laws ; but I shall not leave this seat until I am forced to do so, that I may bring an action against the person re- moving me." 308 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. Magistrate. "My lord, I shall remove you from the chair. My doing so will be &n arrest." Taking Tjord Fingal by the arm, the magistrate, Avith a gentle violence, so to speak, pushed him out of the chair. Immediately Counsellor OXi orman moved Lord Netterville into the chair; bat this nobleman, in his turn, was expelled by the magistrate. Finally, when a third chairman, the Hon. i\Ir. Barnewell, was proposed, the meeting separated, at the recommendation of Sir ICdwai'd Bellew.* CHAPTER XIII. Apgregate Meeting at Fishamble Street Theatre — Percv Bysshe Shelley Declai-es foi' Catholic Eman- cipation and Repeal of the Union — Suppression of the Catholic Committee — It is Succeeded by the Catholic Board— Powerful Speech of 0"Coimell ; his OnslaughtonSirCliarles Saxton audWellesley Polo — Dissensions between the Aristocratic and Popular Sections of the Catholic Movement — Lord rt'rench and the Edinburgh Review Ass.ail the ■Catholic Lawyers — Edmund Eurke on tlie Ap- pointment of Irish Ciitholic Bishops by the Crown — O'Coanell Rouses the Irish Catholics from the Torpor of Serfdom ; his Daring Denunciations of Tyranny — His Indulgence in Personalities — Bill for Exchanging tne English and Irish Militias; O'Conuell Denounces it; an Address of Thanks is sent to him from Dingle — Splendid Speech of Grattan in Favour of Catholic Emancipation — O'Connell's Generous Admiration of Grattan — Lively Scene in the House of Commons ; Colonel Hutchinson Brands the Act of TTnion; the House is Turned into a Bear-Garden — Assassination of the Prime Minister, Mr. Perceval ; O'Connell's Speech on this Event — The Liverpool Ministry — Peel Chief Secretary for Ireland — Peel on O'Con- nell — O'Connell's Style of Eloquence. Immediately after the singular occurrence with which I concluded -the last chapter, a requisition, signed by three hundred names, and calling on the Catholics to assemble at an aggregate meeting in Fishamable Street Theatre, was placarded oil the walls of Dublin. The new meet- ing, not being an assembly of delegates, but an aggregate one, afforded the magis- trates no legal pretext for dispersing it like the former. O'Connell admitted at tliis meeting that a magistrate was legally entitled to ask any assemblage of people, whether or not they were assembled for * The principal authorities consulted in writing the foregoing chapter are- ?7(e IIi$lory of Jn-lparent effort, the vigour and elevation of his ideas gave animation and beauty to his diction. He was clear in statement, admirable for powerful rea- soning, and prompt and adroit in reply ; but when he hurled his " high and haughty defiance " at tyrants, and poured out his vials of burning wrath and scorn on their despicable tools, he was frequently magnificent. Indeed, his invectives were sometimes terrible. I have admitted that he too often indulged in scurrilous personalities and intemperate abuse — eloquent Billingsgate, in short — un- worthy of his great powers. In truth, though his heart was warm and good- natured, his disposition genial and jovial, his temper, on the other hand, was irritable as that of a poet, — " His easy humoup, blossoming Like the thousand flowers of spring " — Davis. redeemed and " covered a multitude of sins." His pathos, too, was genuine; as it came from the heart of tlie speaker, so it mastered the feelings of the audience with irresistible sway. His friend, Mr. Daunt, saj^s: "Like his great country- man, Curran, he was unequal. He could soar to the loftiest heights of parlia- mentary debate, or talk down to the level of the lowest democratic audience." To me his parliamentary efforts, as a rule, seem much inferior to liis popular liarangues or his speeches at the bar. In the entire range of forensic oratory, if we except the speech of Demosthenes ■Oh the Crown (the masterpiece of human eloquence), there is no oration which surpasses, or perhaps even equals, in truth, scorn, defiance, boldness, vehemence and power, O'ConneU's wonderful defence of Magee. In rhetorical finish, indeed, it is surpassed by many. Robustness was probably O'ConneU's most striking characteristic as a speaker. His eloquent fellow -labourer, Shiel, remarked of him, " that he flung a brood of sturdy ideas upon the world, without a rag to cover them." The most singular feature of his intellect was the element of subtlety, or even a something approaching to craft, that was curiously blended with his massive strength and outspoken man- hood.* CHAPTER XIV. American, Irish, English, Scotch, and French opinions of O Oonneil's Eloquence. I SHALL devote the present chapter to several criticisms on O'ConneU's elo- quence. As they embody the opinions . not merely of Irish, but of American, English, Scotch, and French critics, they testify how far and how widely the fame of our hero has travelled. The break in the narrative will relieve the sense of monotony, while the agreeable variety of the criticisms will add to the reader's interest. As I am vrriting this biography in America, I shall let the American critic take precedency. Mr. N. P. Rogers, editor of the New HampsMre Herald of Freedom, who was a prominent member of the Abolition party in America, many years ago, during our hero's lifetime, writing to his friend Mr. H. C. Wright, another American Abolitionist, who at the time resided in England, gives the following brief, but judicious, critique on a certain peculiar and strikmg feature of O'ConneU's style of eloquence : — " You have seen O'Counell. Is he not a chieftain? Did you ever see a creature of such power of the tongue? I never saw any one who could converse with an audience like him. Speeches may be as well made by other men, but I never heard such jndtHc talk from any body. The creature's mind" {I detest this ivay of using the word creature) " plays before ten thousand, and his voice flows as clearly and as leisurely as in a circle round a fireside; and he has the advantage of the excitement it affords to inflame his powers." * The principle authorities for the foregoing chapter are — Life and Times of Daniel U'Connell, uublin, John Mullauy, etc.; Mitchel's Continuation of MacGeog/tegan; The Select Speeches of Daniel O'Connell. M. P , edited, with Historical Notices, etc., by his Son, John O'Conuell, Esq.; Works of Edmund Burke; Edinburgh Review; Grattan's Speeches; KMson's Europe ; Personal Recollections of O'Connell, by Wm. J. O'Neil Daunt; "Wise's History of the Catholic Association, etc i THE LIFK OF DANIEL OCONNELL. 321 After quoting a portion of this criticism, the well-informed author (" Major Mus- kcrry'' is his vom de p/umr) of a sliort, but clever and agreeable, biography of O'Con- iiell, that appeared some tew years ago in Mr. Mitchel's New Yorb Citizen, adds, •■This (piihlic talk) was • precisely the character of Lord Chatham's eloquence, as described by Grattan, who said he had a familiar lecturing way." I shall now give an elaborate compari- son of the oratorical powers of O'Connell with those of Demosthenes and Lord l?rougham, written by an Irishman. I would be understood, hoAvever, as by no means endorsing all the opinions it con- tains : — •■ Without being in the least influenced by popular sentiment, we do not hesitate to assign to O'ConneU a prominent place amongst the best orators of any age. He cannot, indeed, be compared in detail to anj^ particular one Avho is worthy of him. In many features, however, and these the most noble, he bears a striking resem- blance to Demosthenes and Brougham. In strength and clearness he is equal to either. Of all the three, the grand cha- racteristic is energy; but the energy of the Celt, though more active, is l6ss intense than that of the Greek, and more intense than that of the Scot, though not so durable or expansive. Of method — which, although less an endowment than an acquisition, is yet albeit a property of great wit^ — they had an equal share, but from different sources, and displaying a =', was steadfast and sincere. But with that hate a nobler passion dwelt — To hate thw Saxon was to love the Celt. Had that fierce ra ler sprung from English sires. His creed a ProtestJint's, his birth a squire's, No blander Pollio whom our bar affords Had graced the woolsack and cajoled 'my lords.' Past bv his faults, his art be her- allowed. Mighty as Chaiham, give him but a crowd; Hi-ar him in senates, second-r ite at best, Clear in a statement, happy in a jest ; Sought he to shine, then certain to displease; Tawdry yet eoarse-graine I, tinsel upon frieze: His "Titian strength must touch what gave it birth; Hear him to mobs, and on his mother earth! " Once to my sight tlie giant thus was given, Wall'd by wide air, and roofed by boundless heaven; Bene th his feet the humnn ocean lay. And wave on wave flowed i' to space away. Methouglitno c'arion could have sent its sound E en to the centre of the hosts around ; And as 1 thought, rose the sonorous swell, As from some church-tower swings the silvery bell, Aloft, and clear, from airy tid° to ide It glided, easy as a bird may glide ; To the last vrr.sie of that vast audience sent, It played with each wild p ission as it went; Now strrd the uproar, now the murmur still'd, And sobs or laughter answer d as it wdled. "Then did I know what spells of intinite choice. To rouse or nil, has the sweet human voice; Then did I seem to seize the sudden clue "To the grand troublous Life Antique — to view. Under the rock-stnnd o Dem< sthenes. Mutable Athens heave her noisy seas." I shall next give the Scotchman's criticism : — "To give a critical account of the oratory of Mr O'Connell has so often been tried with but little success, that tliere is not much encouragement to repeat it, and a very few remarks mil only be ventured on. It seems to be much questoned whether Mr. O'ConneU's oratory is natural or artificial. It is in- sisted, on the one side, that he throws so much of his internal soul into every word he utters, that the words are the expression of his feelings at the time, and nothing more; while, on the other hand, it is maintained that his fine and accurate modulations of voice and appropriate action could only be reached by long study of dramatic effect. The truth is, perliaps, partly in either opinion. He is no doubt, possessed of strong and 324 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. vigorous feelings, and nature has given him the means of accuivately expres- siug them; but art has stepped in and taught him how to make use of these qualities — taught h"m not merely how to cxliibit his own feelings, but how to bring the audience along with him. Sir William Jones has said that any man of common sense and tolerable talent may, by per- severance, become an eloquent speaker. But no man will ever acquire the art of Mffecting an audience, as Mr. O'Connell does, through sheer study. His eloquence is more to be felt than admired, although it has much even of literary merit; and he is more like that ancient orator after whose address the audience cried out, ' Let us march against Philip ! ' than him of whom they merely said, ' How well the orator has spoken ! ' Many orators of the present day issue speeches which, after being printed, shew in many respects better taste, gi-eater beauty of language, and even more emphatic declamation, than are sometimes to be found in those of O'Connell. That he could meet them on their o\vn ground, there is little doubt ; but the critical merits of a speech, when printed, are nothing to him in comparison with its effect on the hearts of the multi- -juude around him; and hence what may appear vapid or untasteful to the reader, jias, by a glance, a curl of the lip, or a change of the voice, produced an electric effect on the listener. Thus, when he said of the Tories, ' But they never shall succeed ! ' there was nothing m the expres- sion but what any man might have used; but the triumphant glance of the eye, and the bold menacing attitude of defiance suddenly assumed by so powerful a look- mg man, whose eventful history was fresh in the mind of every listener, had a startling and rousing effect. A man of sHght physical powers, or of little in- fluence in the political Avorld, would have made the attempt in vain ; indeed, he would only have been ludicrous. Mr. O'Connell's private manners and conver- sation are of an extremely pleasmg and fascinating description. When he is for the first time followed from the hustings to tlie parlour, he gains on the heart of the individual by the exchange. In the great public theatre of his exertions, we expect to meet him all that both his friends and adversaries have painted him — the presiding spirit of the scene, the man whose intellect inspires multitudes, whether for good or bad. But to find the man, who lias organised millions in his own country, in private life unassum- ing, gentle, and pleasing, is something so completely unexpected that, by itself, it tends more to attract the mind than all the vigour, brilliancy, and sarcasm of his oratory. The private guest expects t<.> see before Imn the powerful leader through a turbulent and intricate pei-iod of politics — the bold presider over popular opinion — the shrewd, deep-headed coun- sellor who taught his adlierents liow to evade unjust and oppressive laws — the eloquent speaker in the first school of oratory. He sees a man to Vv'hom natui'e has given physical energy for all these, and on whose face she has stamped ex- pression which might be adapted to them all, but who appears to belong, not to the arena in which he is so weU known and so much admired, but to be the agreeable and unassuming membei' of the seciety in which he is accidentally oast. The profound lawyer, the bold orator, and the wary pacificator of his turbulenc country, are as much forgotten as the virulent demagogue and unscrupulous agitator which his foes represent him. We have nothing at first sight but tho finished and perfect gentleman, who turns out, on further acquaintance, to be the elegant scholar and the man of varied, interesting, and select information. In oratory Mr. O'Connell becomes at once striking and impressive ; indeed, were the opening periods of his speeches far less emphatic than they are, they would naturally produce a great effect on those who should keep in mind the vast energies wielded by the speaker. But when he is met among a few individuals, his public character at once passes away, and he is no longer the observed of all observers, but a simple member of society, pleased with the conversation of those around him, and giving pleasure in return by his own. He seems by no means the man who is stooping for a moment from higher objects of exertion, and shewmg how gracefully he can stoop. He is one of- the party. He laughs at all their jokes and merry sayings, and gives his own in return. There is a continual play of laughing good humour on his counte- nance: and one would believe, on seeing him so situated, that he had no cares, no anxieties, no laborious moments to meet, no hundreds upon hundreds of letters to THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. 325 autiwer, and, in short, nothing to do but to enjoy himself with the persons present, and add to their enjoyment. As Mr. O'Connell has long directed his vast ener- gies solely to the advantage of his native country, it is believed b}" most people to be the only object of his thoughts. His information, however, on general history and literature is vast and extremel}' accurate, and the conversation in which he displays his knowledge would be of itself sufficient to found a reputation. It is, perhaps, his consciousness of how little he requires to shine in this department that has made him appear by no means anxious to display his powers, while he never keeps pompously aloof from the subject of general discussion, whatever it may be. He joins the conversation easily and naturally, and his additions to its interest soon make the listener forget that he is in the presence of the great orator and statesman, in the new claims which are so unexpectedly made on his admira- tion." Doubtless O'Connell had a fair share of general reading; but, in spite of the above glownig account of the extent of his information derived from books, I am inclined to agree with Mr. Mitchel, that his literary attamments were neither very extensive nor very profoimd. The book of human natiu'e was the volume lie had most deeply studied. I have some recol- lection of an ace omit, which I read some years ago in one of the fii'st-class British magazines, of a dinner-party in London, where he was one of the guests. Amongst these were a good many literary men, owing to which circumstance much of the conversation turned upon litei'ary topics. [ remember the writer makes the remark that evidently conversation of this sort was not the great agitators forte. Still, it could not but happen that a man of such vast and various powers of mind, whenever he should chance to turn his attention to literature, however cursorily, woidd be likely to make some striking reflections on whatever authors he might liappen to take up. ]\Ii\ Daunt has pre- served some acute and judicious remarks uttered by him, from time to time, on books and wTiters. I mean, on the first suitable occasion, to select for the reader, from the Personal Recollections., a few favourable specimens of O'Connell's literary opinions. I shall now give without curtailment the eloquent sketch of O'Connell, viewed chiefly in the light of an orator, whicli is appended to the celebrated series of por- traits of the orators of France by the Viscount de Cormenin, or Timon — to give him his iiom de phimc by which he is more widely known. O'Connell is the only foreigner to whom th'e very high dis- tinction of a place in this brilliant gallery of illustrious speakers was accorded. Timon appears to consider O'Connell the highest exemplification of his idea of popular oratory. It is not difficult, then, to understand why he included O'Connell in his portrait-gallery. As I have not a copy of the original by me, I shall make use of J. T. Ileadley's translation : — "Scarce had the brilliant Mirabeau, on a sudden veiled by the vapours of the tomb, gone down in the full splendour of his meridian, than a new luminary was seen to rise upon the horizon of Ire- land. "Mirabeau! O'Connell! towering bea- cons, planted at the two extremities of the revolutionary cycle, as if to open and to close its ever-memorable scenes. " If my design were to consider O'Con- nell but as a parliamentary orator, I might compare the British nation with ours, and our tribune with the British. L| might say that the latter has more countr^ gentlemen of eccentric and inveterate ''^ prejudices, and the former contains vaovQ special pleaders and pretentious judges ; that the EngUsh deputy does everything for his party, the French deputy every- thing for himself; that the one is i.n aristocrat even in his democracy, and the other democratic even in his aristo- cracy; tliat the one is more proud oi great things, the other more boastful of small ; that the one is always system;itic in his opposition, and the other alniost always individual ; that the one is more sensible to interest, to calculation, to expediency, to reason, and the other to imagery, to eloquence, to the surprises and adven- tures of pohtical tactics ; that the one is more sarcastic and more harsh, and the other more inclined to personality of the keen and scoffing kind ; that the one is more grave and more religious, and the other more volatile and more unbelieving ; that the one stuffs his harangues wicli citations from Virgil, Homer, the Bible, Shakespeare, Milton, and that the other coidd not mention the names and events of his own national history without 326 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. making the members yawn, or exciting the laughter of both the spectators and the Parliament; that the one acts but with effort, slowly, upon heads of much solidity, but massive and heavy, while the other is divined by the intelligence, prompt and penetrative, of his auditors, before the phrase has quite left his lips ; that the one constructs leisurely the scaffolding of his lengthy periods of indefinite argumentations, bristling with science, jurisprudence, and literature, whilst the other would shock the simple and delicate taste of our nation by a heap of metaphors, however beautiful, and would fatigue our intellect by a contexture too strong and stringent of his reasonings. "I might add that the English nation has more force, and the French more grace. There more genius, here more intellect; there more character, here more imagination ; there more political pru- dence, here more impulsive generosity; there more forecast, here more actuality ; there more profundity of philosophical speculation and more respect for the dignity tf the human species, here more propensity to contemplate one's self coquettishly in the glass of his oratory, jyithout taking accoimt of the merits and perfections of others. The one, in fine, of these nations more jealous of liberty, the other of equality; the one more proud, the other more vain; the one besotted with bigotry, the other sceptical in almost all things; the one capable of preparing and awaiting the triumph of its cause, the other precipitatmg the occasion and impatient to vanquish, no matter under what leaders ; the one re- tiring into some sequestrated corner to indulge its dumps, the other capering about, and at the first preludings of the fiddle, mixing in ail sorts of quadrilles ; the Englishman computing how much his blood should oriug him of territory and influence, and his money of interest — the Frenchman squandering the one with- out knowing where, and the other without knowing why. " I should say, in conclusion, that both, in spite of their defects and their vices, are the expression' of a great people ; and that so long as the English tribune shall rise amid the seas in its proud and illus- trious island, and so long as the French tribune sliall remain erect amid the rub- bish of aristocracy and despotism, the liberty of the world is in no danger of perishing. " But it is not the parliamentary orator that I am here to draw; it is nor Demos- thenes pleading his own cause in the oligarcliical forum of Athens; it is not JSIirabeau throwing off the splendours of his magnificent language in the hall of Versailles, before the thi-ee orders of clergy, nobility, and commons; it is not Burke, Pitt, Fox, Brougham, Camiing. shivei'ing the glass-work of Whitehall with the thunders of their academical eloquence : it is another kind of eloquence — an eloquence without name, prodigious, transporting, spontaneous, and the like of which has never been lieard by the ancients or the moderns ; it is O'Connell. the gTcat O'Connell, erect upon the soil of his country, with the heavens for dome, the boundless plain for tribune, the whole people for auditory, and for subject that people, incessantly that people, and for echo tlie universal acclamations of the multitude, resembling the hollow-toned mutterings of the tempest, or the dashing of the billows against the rock-barred . beach of the ocean. " JVever, in any age or country, has any man obtained over his nation an empire so s(. vfreign, so absolute, so entire. Ire- land impersonates herself in O'Comiell. He is, in some sort, himself alone, her army, her parliament, her ambassador, her prince, her liberator, her apostle, her god. His ancestors, descendants of the kmgs of Ireland, wore at their side the falchion of battles. He, a tribune of the people, carries likewise the falchion of other battles — the falchion of eloquence, more redoubtable than the sword. " Behold O'Connell with his people, for they are veritably his : he lives in their life, he smiles in their joys, he bleeds in their wounds, he weeps in their sori'ows. He transports them from fe;ir to hope, from servitude to liberty, from the fact to the law, from law to duty, from sup- plication to invective, and from anger to mercy and commiseration, lie orders this whole people to kneel down upon the earth and pray, and instantly they kneel and Ijray; to lift their eyes to heaven, and they lift them; to execrate their tyrants, and they execrate; to chant hymns to liberty, and they chant them; to sign petitions for the reform of abuses, to unite tlieir forces, to forget their feuds, to embrace their brothers, to pardon "theii- THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 327 enemies, and they sign, unite, forget, embrace, pardon ! " Our Berryer dwells but in the upper regions of politics. He breathes but the air of aristocracy. His name has not descended into the workshop and the cottage. He has not drank of the cup of equality. He has never handled the rough implements of the mechanics. He has never interchanged his words with their words. He has never felt the grasp of their horny hands. He has never applied his heart to their heart, and felt its beatings. But O'Connell, how cor- dially popular ! How entirely Irish ! What magnificent stature ! What atldetic form! What vigour of lungs! What expansion of heart in that animated and blooming countenance! What sweetness in those large blue eyes ! What joviality ! What inspiration! What wit-flashings inexhaustible! How nobly he bears his head upon that muscular neck, his head tossed backward, and exhibiting in every lineament his proud independence ! " What renders him incomparable with the orators of his own country as well as of ours, is, that without premeditation, and by the sole impetuositj^, the mere energy of his powerful and viclorious nature, he enters body and soul into his subject, and appears to be rather pos- sessed by it himself than to possess it. His heart runs over, it moves by bounds, by plunges, until the spectator can almost reckon its every pulsation. " Like a full-blooded courser suddenly checked upon his sinewy and trembling haunches, so O'Connell can stop short in the Tmbridled career of his eloquence, turn sharply round and resume it. So much has his genius of presence, of elas- ticity, and of vigour! " You would think at first that he falters, and is going to sink beneath the weight of the internal god by whom he is agitated. Presently he recovers him- self, a halo around his brow and his eye full of flame, and his voice, which has nothing of mortal, begins to reverberate through the air and to fill all space. •' How explain, how define that extra- ordinary genius, which finds no repose iu a body for ever in motion, and which is equal to the despatch of a large profes- sicmal business, civil and criminal, to the laborious investigation of the laws, to the immense correspondence of the associa- tion, to the agitation nightly and daily of seven millions of men — that soul of fire which heats O'Connell without consuming him — that intellect of so incredible an agility, whicii touches every subject with- out tarnishing it, which never tires, and wliich amplifies itself by all the space it has 'traversed, which does not divide but multiply itself by diffusion, which draws new vigour and force from its very ex- haustion, which wastes constantly without the necessity of repairing itself, whicii surrenders and abandons itself to the impetuosity of passion, without losing for an instant its self-possession — that phenomenon of an old age, so green and so vigorous; that puissant life which has the vitality of several others; that inex- haustible efllux of an exceptional nature without parallel and without precedent? " Had O'Cormell marched, his claymore in hand, to the encounter of despotism, he would have been crushed beneath the forces of the British aristocracy ; but he intrenched and fortified himself .behind the bulwark of the law, as in an impreg- nable fortress. He is bold, but he is perhaps still more adroit than bold. He advances, but he retires. He will go to the utmost limits of his rights, but not au inch beyond. He mails himself in the buckler of chicanery, and battles upon' this ground, foot to foot, by means of captious interpretations and a network of subtleties which he casts around his adversaries, who no more can extricate themselves from its entangling meshes. Scholastic, hair-spliting, wily, shiftful, a keen attorney, he snatches by trick what- ever he cannot wrest by force. Where others would sink, he saves himself. His skill defends him from his uupetuosity. "Meanvi'hile the speciality of his end does not divert his attention from the general interests of humanity. He desires freedom of worship, because it is the will of the human conscience. He wishes the triumph of ideas, because it is the only triumph which sheds no blood, the only one which rests upon opinion and jus- tice, and, above all, the only one which endures. " He is poetical to lyrical sublimity, or familiar to conversational simplicity. He attracts to him his auditory, and tran- sports it upon the platform of the theatre, or at times descends himself and mingles with the spectators. He does not leave the stage for a moment without action or recitation. He distributes to each his THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. pait. He seats himsplf ia judgment. He questions and condemns. The people ratify, lift hands, and imagine themselves in a court-house. " Sometimes O^Connell brings the in- ternal drama of the family to subserve the external drama e? public affairs.- He introduces his aged lather, his ancestors, and the ancestry of the people. He ex- pedites his orders ; he commands the audience to sit, to stand, or to prostrate itself; he assumes the direction of the debates anfl the police of the assem- blage, he presides, he reads, he reports, he offers motions, petitions, requisitions; he arranges, he improvisates narrations, monologues, dialogues, prosopopeias, in- terludes, plots, and counterplots. He knows that the Irishman is at once mirthful and m^^laucholy, that he likes at the same time the figurative, the brilliant, and the sarcastic, ;nid so he breaks the laughter by tears, the sublime by the ridiculous. He assails in a body the lords of Parlia- ment, and chasing them from their aristo- cratic covert, he tracks them one by one as tlie hunter does the wild beast. He rallies them unmercifully, abuses them, travesties and delivers them over, stuck with horns and ludicrous gibbosities, to the hootings and hisses of the crowd. If inteiTOgated by any of the auditors, he stops, grapples his interrupter, floors him, and returns briskly to his sporch. It is thus that, with marvellous suppleness, he fol- lows the undulations of that popular sea, now agitated and obstreperous beneath the strokes of his trident, now ruffled by the breath of the gentle breeze, now placid, lucent, and golden with the sun- beams, like a bath of the luxurious sirens. " O'Coimell is neither Whig, nor Tory, nor Radical, in the Engish sense. Ac- cordingly, Whigs, Tories, and Radicals bear him that inveterate hatred and that haughty scorn of a conquering people for the subject of the conquered — of an Eng- lishman for the Irshman, of a Protestant for the Catholic. But this hatred, this scorn, these insolences cannot daunt him. Unlike our orators, so sentimental and so fastidious, because they are without con- viction, without heart, and without faith, (J'Co^inell never doubts of the triumph of his cause; and even in the House of Commons, looking his adversaries firmly in the face, he exclaims, — '■ ' I will never be guilty of the crime of despairing of my country ; and to-day, after two centuries of suffering, here i stand amidst you in this hall, repeating the same complaints, demanding the same justice which was claimed by our fathers, but no longer with the humble voice of the suppliant, but \^T[th the sentiment of our force, and the conviction that Ireland will henceforth find means to do, without you, what you shall have refused to do for her! I make no compromise with you ; I want the same rights for us that you enjoy, the same municipal system for Ireland as for England and Scotland. Otherwise, what is a union with you? A union upon parchment! Well, we will tear this parchment to pieces, and the empire will be sundered!' '• This is high-toned, and a man must feel hunself almost a king to hold such language. ." Speak not to tliis man of a different subject. His patriotic soul, all capacious, as it is, can contain no other. He is not, even in London, and in the Parliament of the three kingdoms, a member of Parlia- ment. He is but an Irshman. He has but Ireland, all Ireland, in his heart, in his thought, in his memory, on his lips, in his ear. " ' I hear,' says he, ' day after day, the plaintive voice of Ireland crjang, " Am I to be kept for ever waiting and for ever suffering?" No, fellow-countrymen, you will be left to suffer no longer ; you v.'Ul not have in vaiu asked justice from a people of brothers.' {Humbug !) • Eng- land is no longer that country of pre- judices where the mere name of Popery excited every breast, and impelled to iniquitous cruelties. The representatives of Ireland have carried the Reform Bill, which has enlarged the franchises of the English people: they will be heard with favour in asking their colleagues to ren- der justice to Ireland.' {Fudge!) ' But should it prove otherwise, should Parlia- ment still continue deaf to our prayer, then we will appeal to the English na- tion ; and if the nation, too, should suffer itself to be blinded by its prejudices, we will enter the fastnesses of otu' moim- tains, and take counsel solely from our energy, our courage, and our despair.' "It is impossible to invoke i«- terms, more forcible "and touching, the reason, the conscience, and the gratitude of the English jieople, and to mingle more art- fully supplication with menace, than iu this beautiful passage. THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL, 329 " Rut you feel that this gigantic ora- tor is straitened, is stifled under this cupola of the English Parliament, like a huge vegetable under a bell-glass. That his breast may distend, his stature tower, and his voice thunder, he must have the air, the sun, and the soil of Ireland. It is only on touching that sacred land, that land of his country, that he respires and unfolds himself. It is but there, in presence of his people, that his revolu- tionary eloquence, his defying eloquence, launches aloft, unbinds and radiates its thousand splendours like the immense sheaves of a firework. It is but then that he pours out the boiling torrents of that prodigious irony which avenges the slave and desolates the tyrant! •' Not that his I'aillery is keen : it does not pierce like a needle. Like the ;«icieut sacrificer, he lifts his axe, he strikes the victim between the two horns, just in the middle of the forehead: the animal emits a long groan and drops. " He should be seen mustering his in- dignation and his energies, when he re- counts the long history of his country's misfortunes, her oppressions, her woes ; when he wakes from the tombs those generous heroes, those unswerving citi- zens, who have ensanguined with their blood the scaffolds of Ireland, its plains and its lakes ; when he is exhibiting to his brave adherents the lamentable spec- tacle of their liberty lacerated by the sword of England ; the soil of their fathers in the hands of those tyrants, the Government instituted by them and for them — for them alone ; the tribunals of justice crammed with their creatures ; the Parliaments sold, the laws written in blood, the soldiers turned into execu- tioners, the prisons full; the peasantiy ground by taxation, brutalised by ignor- ance, emaciated by sickness and famine, haggard, bowed to the earth, and ex- tended on a litter of fetid straw ; the hovels hard by the palaces ; the insolence of the aristocracy ; idleness without charge and without pity ; labour without remu- neration and without respite ; martial law re-established; habeas corjnis suspended; the administration overrun with strangers; nationality proscribed; religion incapa- citating tor either judges, or juries, or witnesses, or land -holders, or school- teachers, or even constables, under pen- alty of radical nullity and even capital punishment ; the C'atholic churches empty, bare, without ornaments ; their priests beggars, wanderers, outlaws; the Angli- can Church, the while, with joyous brow and heart, havmg her hands stuck deep ill her sacks and coffers of gold. Then roll down the tears from every eye amid a solemn and fearful silence ; and that whole people, overwhelmed, heart-broken with its sobbings, revolves in its heaving bosom the direful day of vengeance. "Meanwhile, let England, from the elevation of her palaces, and upon her beds of purple and down, giving trem- bling ear to the moanings of that Ence- ladus who mutters beneath the mountain which holds him imprisoned. He tra- verses its subterranean recesses, he motmts upon his legs, he upheaves with his back the kindling furnaces of democracy; and, in the terror of an approaching eruption, England is stricken with dismay, the fiery flood is already upon her feet, and she retires precipitately, lest the volcano burstand blow her into the air. " What cares this turbulent orator, this savage child of the mountains, for Aristotle and rhetoric, for drawing-room politeness, for the proprieties of gram- mar, or the urbanity of language? He is the people, he speaks like the people. He has the same prejudices,' the same religion, the same passions, the same thought, the same heart — a heart that beats through every pulse for his beloved Ireland — a heart that hates with all its energies the tyrannical ^klbion. See you not how he penetrates, how he merges himself, into the very vitals of his cher- ished countrymen, in order to feel and to palpitate as they palpitate and feel? how he puts himself in their shackles, how he binds around him the irons of their seindtude, that he may the better blush with them for their bondage, and the better burst its chain? how he plunges into the glories of their bygone days? — then leads them back to their living sores, their desolation, their poli- tical Helotism, their social misery, their destitution, their degradation? How he reanimates again, how he refreshes them with the religious breathings of his hopes ! How he cheers them with the proud ac- cents of liberty, and overwhelms them so effectually with his voice, his exclama- tions, his denunciations, his soul, his arms, and his whole body, that at the end of the discourse this orator and this entire audience of fifty thousand men 330 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O'CONNELL. Lave but one bodJ^ one soul, one cry of ' Old Ireland for ever!' " Yes, it is Ireland, his best-beloved Ireland, that he has set, as upon an altar, in the centre of all his hopes, of all his affections. He sees but her, he hears but her, in Parliament, in the church, at the bar, at the domestic fireside, in the club -room, at the banquet-table, amid his triumphal orations, absent, present, in aU places, at all times! lie reverts to her unceasingly by a thousand avenues — routes bordered witli abysses and pre- cipices, lofty mountains and lovely lakes, and fertile plains and winding meadows. Yes, thou it is, green Erin, emerald of the seas, whose cincture he unbinds upon the sands of the beach. Thou, who ap- pearest to him seated on the spiral sum- mit of the temples of Catholicism; thou, whom he hears in the murmurings of the storm; thou, whom he respires in the perfmned breeze of the zephyi's! Thou, whom anon he imagines drawing against the Saxon thy formidable claymore to the sound of the thunder of battles! Thou, whom he prefers, poor beggar though thou art, with thy rags, thy shrivelled body and thy straw-covered hovels, to the glittering palaces of aris- tocracy, to insolent England, to the queen of the ocean ! Thou, of whom he contemplates, with respectful pity, the languishing graces and the hollow and faded cheeks, because thou art the tomb of his ancestors, the cradle of his sons, the glory of his life, the immortality of his name, the palm-tree blossomed with his eloquence; because thou lovest thy children and lovest him, the greatest of them ; because thou suff crest for them, for him; because thou art Ireland; be- cause thou art his country ! " Our French parliamentary speakers do not succeed in drawing a single vote in the wake of their orations. They have witnessed so many revolutions, served so many governments, subverted so many ministries, that they have ceased to put faith in either liberty or power. They are neither Saint-Simonians, nor Chris- tians, nor Turks, nor Anabaptists, nor Vaudois, nor Albigenses — they believe in no religion, absolutely none. But for O'Connell, he has a lirm faith in the wondrous prestiges of his art; he believes undoubtedly in the future emancipation of Ireland, lie believes in the God of the Christians, and it is because he be- lieves — because he hopes — that his eagle sustains his flight sublime in the upper regions of eloquence, upon pinions al- ready frozen with the ice of so many winters. He never separates the triumph of religion from the triumph of liberty! He thrills \vith delight, he is transported, wrapt in his magnificent visions of the future, and his inspired words have something of the grandeur of the firma- ment which over-canopies him. of the air and space which surround him, and of the popular waves which pour along in his footsteps, when he exclaims, after the Clare election, — " ' Ih presence of my God, and with the most profoimd sentiment of the re- sponsibility attached to the solemn and awful duties which you have twice im- posed upon me — fcllovz-countrymen, I accept them: and I find the assurance of duly discharging them, not in myself, but in you. The men of Clare well know that the only basis of liberty is rehgion. They have triumphed, because the voice which was raised for the country had first been breathed in prayer to the Lord. Now hynnis of liberty are heard through- out the land; they play around the hills, they fill the vales, they murmur in our streams, and the torrents, with voice of thunder, re-echo back to the mountains. " Ireland is free! " ' " In another work of the same author — Etudt'^ sur les Orateurs Parliamentairea, par Timon. Paris, 1839 (Stiulics on the Parliaiveiitary Orators, by Timon) — he has the following appreciative passage on O'ConnelFs eloquence: — " Eloquence has not all its infiuence — its strong, sympa- thetic, stirring infiuence — except on the people. Look at O'Connell, the greatest, perhaps the only orator of modern times. What a colossus! How he draws himself up to his full height ! How his voice sways and governs the waves of • the multitude ! I am not an Irishman ; I have never seen O'Connell ; I do not know his language ; I should not under- stand were I to listen to him. Why, then, am I more moved by his discourses — badly translated, discoloured, maimed, stripped of the allurements of style, ges- ture, and voice — than by all those heard in my own country? It is because they bear no resemblance to oru' rhetoric, wdiich is disfigured by paraphrase; be- cause passion, true passion, inspires him — the passion which can say everything. THE LIFE OP DANIEL OCONNELL. 331 It is because he tears me from the ground, rolls and drags me into his torrent; that he trembk'S, and I tremble ; that he kindles, and I feel myself burning; that he weeps, and tears fill my eyes ; that his soul utters cries which ravish mine ; that he carries me off upon his wings, and sus- tains me in the hallowed transports of liberty. Under the impression of his mighty eloquence, I abhor and detest with a furious hatred the tyrants of that unfortunate country, as if I were the countryman of O'Counell; and I take to loving the green island as much as if it was my own country." In the year 1812, the period of O'Con- nell's life at which we have arrived, he had many opportunities of displaying his vast command over all the resources of jiopular oratory. I shall now give one of the finest specimens of his eloquence. The Catholic Board in Dublin had just passed a strong resolution in the teeth of the increased virulence of the " No Popery" cry, which seemed to menace a fresh religious persecution, sanctioned by the admhiistration. On the 24th of July, a meeting of Catholics, held at the Com- mercial Buildings, George's Street, Lim- erick, endorsed the proceedings of the Board in Dublin, which some had con- demned. O'Connell, who happened at the time to be on circuit, spoke at this Limerick meeting. He thanked the Irish Protestants warmly for theii- liberal sup- port of Catholic emancipation. He de- nounced the English Government for their bigotry and mendacity in vehement terms. He treated with indignant scorn Castlereagh's audacious denial that, in the years 17"J7 and 1798, the Government knew anj^:hing of the use of torture in Ireland. He also denounced the falseness and venality of the Government press, especially of a journal then published in London, called the Courier, which he said was "worthy of the meridian of Constan- tinople tit its highest tide of despotism." He vigorously defended the Catholics from tl)e imputations flung upon them by their enemies. He reminded the citizens of Limerick, amid great applause, of the valour of their ancestors. They should see to the representation of their city, drive out the opponent of their liberties, Colonel Vereker, and prevent Limerick from being made a close borough. But the close of the oration was what drew forth the highest applause, and won for the orator a special resolution of admira- tion and gr.ititude. As the present chapter lias been wholly devoted to the subject of our hero's eloquence, it will be in perfect keeping to terminate it with the peroration of this Limerick speech. It will give the reader an admirable illustra- tion of his eloquence. " Yes, if Ireland be fairly roused to the battle of the country and of freedom, all is 'safe. Britain has been often conquered: the Romans conquered, her; the Saxons conquered her; the Normans conquered her ; in short, whenever she was invaded, she was conquered. But our country was never subdued ; we never lost our liberties in battle, nor did we ever submit to armed conquerors. It is true, the old inhabitants lost their country in piecemeal, by fraud and treachery ; they relied upon the faith of men who never, never observed a treaty with them, until a new and mixed race has sprung up, m dissension and discord; but the Irish heart and soul still predomi- nate and pervade the sons of the oppres- sors themselves. The generosity, the native bravery, the innate fidelity, the enthusiastic love of whatever is great and noble, — those splendid characteristics of the Irish mind remain as the imperishable relics of our country's former greatness — of that illustrious period when she was the light and glory of barbarous Europe, when the nations around sought for in- struction and example in her numerous seminaries, and when the civilisation and religion of all Europe were preserved in. her alone. {Contbmed chccrinc/.) " You will, mj' friends, defend her. You may die, but you cannot yield to any foreign invader. (Hem-! hear!) What- ever be my fate, I shall be happy, while I live, in reviving amongst you the love and admiration of your native land, and in calling upon Irishmen — no matter how they may worship their common God — to sacrifice every contemptible prejudice on the altar of their common country. {Great ap])lanse.) For myself, I shall conclude by expressing the sentiment that throbs in my heart; I shall express it in the language of a young bard of Erin " (the eliKjueiit Charles Philips, of whom we shall hear af/ain, in '■'The Emerald Isle''^) "and my beloved friend, whose delightful muse has the sound of the ancient minstrelsy — 'Still shiilt thou he my midnight dream, Tliy glory still my waking theme, Ami evei-y thought ami wish of mine, Unconquered Enn, shall be thine ! ' 332 THE LIFE OF DAXIEL O CONNELL. {Select Speeches of Daniel O'Convell, M.P., edited, with Historical Notices, etc., by his soil, John O'Connell, Esq., etc.) CPIAPTER XV. Tho Famous " Witchery " Eesolutions— Commotion anil Fury 'aused by them — O'Conuell denounces the Eesent's Violation of hi- Pledges to the Catho- lics -His re ret on account of Lord Moira's Weak- ness - Moira's Nobleness in '98; he disappoint^ the exiiectaiions of thp Catliolics in ISl'.'- O'Connell tells the P ople to distrust the Ministry, to trust themselves alone — Apparent pro pect of immediate Emancipation in ISlJ — Fa\tourable Votes in Parlia- ment -O'Connell Enumerates the Opportunities of Freedom let slip— Castlereagh's "Hitches' — Ab- siu-d Aiguments of the Opponents of Emancipation — Chevalier M'Carthy tries to get up a Vote of Confidence iit the Liverpoof Minisiry. but fails— " Liberty Hall " — Sensational Anecdote of the Prinee-Refjent's Mistress, Lady Hertford— Gross Profligacy of the Eegent's Court -The Regent's Manie Hissed at a St Patrick's-Day Banquet in London: Sheridan Hissed for trying to Defend him — General Elsctiou of 1812- n'Oonnell's Legal Penetration — His powerful Speech on the Elec ions — Enthusiastic Popular Admiration of "the Man of ihe People"— OCounell Praises the gal ant Lord Cochrane and John Philpot Curran, and Inveighs bitterly against Lord Castlereagh ana other Enemies of Ireland -The Ascendency Candi- date, at Newry — A few Eecreant Catholics basely Vote against Curran — Admirable Speech of Curran — Law!eS'"s Vote of Censure on those Memljers of the Catholic Board who acted again t Curran — Vote of Censure first carried, afterwards qualilied ■fay a Motion of Dr. Drumgoole — Politic Course of O'Connell — O'Connells f-peech Repudiating all Designs of Establishing Catholic Ascendency. PnoiiABLY this "No Popery" cry, -which arose in 1812, had been stimulated by the celebrated ^•iciiclicn/"' resolutions of the preceding month, of which I shall now take some notice. I have already men- tioned that the Prince of Wales, on becoming prince-regent, had shamefully broken his pledges to the Catholics. A strong manifestation of Catholic indigna- tion at this breach of faith took place at 3, meeting held in Fishamble Street Theatre, on Thui'sday, June the 18th, 1812, Lord Fingal, as usual, being in the chair. Mr. Hussey informed this meet- ing how the gentlemen sent to Lon- don on the part of the Catholics were "bluntly refused" a private interview with the prince; how Mr. Secretary Eyder told them that their address to his Ro3-a,l Highness should be presented at one of his public levees, "in the usual way;" how those presentmg it were only allowed to state its purport and origin ; and how it was handed over to a lord-in-waiting to be consigned to oblivion. Tlie regent had expressed no opinion on the occasion of the presentation; " but," added Mr. Hussey, " this melan- choly fact is sufficiently understood, that his Royal Highness did not think fit to offer any recommendation to Parliament upon the subject; and it is notorious that the minister seemed to have acquired new zeal in propagating his old insinua- tions against the Catholic people, and in repeating his old experiment against religious liberty." After Mr. Hussey's address, certain resolutions, supposed to have been com- piled by Coimsellor Denis Scully, were brought forward by O'Conuell, moved by Lord Killeen (the eldest son of the Earl of Fingal). and seconded by Mr. Barne- wall. I shall give some passages from these resolutions. The third says : — "That from authentic documents now before us we learn with deep diaappoiut- ment and anguish how cruelly the pro- mised boon of Catholic freedom has been intercepted by the fatal ivilrhcj-ij of an unworthy secret influence hostile to our fairest hopes, spurning alike the sanctions of public and private virtue, the demands of personal gratitude, and the sacred obligations of plighted honour." The Catholics also spoke of a certain " impure source," to which the disappointment of their hopes, their protracted servitude, the invasion of their right of petitioning, illegal State - prosecutions, all their im- mediate grievances, in short, could be traced. They expressed their just con- tempt for fickle courtiei's or " the pompous patronage" of men who would sacrifice, "at the shrine of perishable power," or to "the blandishment of a too luxurious court," the " feelings and in- terests of millions." They also expressed their resolution never to abandon the pursuit of "equal constitutional rights — unconditional, unstipulated, unpurchased by dishonour." These '■' icitcliery''^ resolutions were levelled against the influence, hostile to the Catholic cause, supposed to be exer- cised over her royal paramour by the Marchioness of Hertford. This profligate woman w;is credited with having kept in power Perceval and his " No-Popery " colleagues, when the prince became regent. These famous witchery resolu- tions created a tremendous sensation. Thepriuce. of course, was furious— doubt- less the lady hei'self was furious; the convivial viceroy, the Duke of Richmond, was furious; the bigoted "No-Popery" THE LIFE OF DANIEL OCONNELL. 333 partisans were furious. Even many timor- ous or deceitful friends or would-be patrons of the C'atholics were displeased. After a zealous Protestant member of the committee, Counsellor Finlay (subse- quently assistant - bari-ister for Roscom- mon), had delivered an able speech, O'Connell addressed the meeting. I shall give a few passages from this speech, commencing with the opening one : — "I have, my lord, much to say, but I shall say little: I cannot venture to detain you after m)' eloquent friend — after the brilliant display you have just witnessed of the talents and powerful eloquence of my learned and excellent friend, iMr. Finlay. "We do, indeed, owe him much ; I was about to regret that he was not a Catholic, I was so pleased with him, and so anxious that we might have the credit of such talents. But when I consider, I think it better that matters should be as they are ; for it must gratify every Catho- lic in Ireland to have Protestant talent sucli as his come forward to grace and support our assemblies : and it is a new source of unconquerable strengtli to our cause to have Protestant and Catholic equally ardent in the struggle in which we are engaged. His are talents which ministerial corruption could not purchase, for they are beyond all price." Mr. O'Connell next brings four of the faithless regent's pledges to the Catholics before the meeting : — Int. One made through the Duke of Bedford. 2d. One made through Chancellor Ponsonby. od. A written one in the possession of the Earl of Kenmare. He speaks thus of the fourth : — "The fourth and last pledge which, for the present, I shall mention, was that given by his Royal Highness to a noble lord" (Fiiif^al) ' now present. At the conversation I allude to, that noble lord was accompanied by the late Lord Petre and the present Lord Clifden. After retiring from the presence of his Royal Highness, the declarations which he w-as so graciously pleased to make were, from a loyal and affectionate impulse of grati- tude, committed to writing, and signed by the three noble lords." It is in this speech that the passage on Perceval's assassination, already quoted by me, occurs. In this speecli. too, he speaks of tlu' once-popular Lord Moira. After saying that Perceval's death had " opened a near prospect of their eman- cipation," he proceeds: — " At the moment I am speaking the bill for our relief M'ould have been in its progress through the legislature : we should have been emancipated this very session, unconditionally and completely emancipated, but for what? — I speak it in no anger, but in the deepest sorroAV — but for Lord ]\Ioira. " Lord ISIoira is a nanio that I have never before pronounced without enthu- siasm. I am quite aware of his high honour, his unbounded generosity, his chivalrous spirit: his heart has ever been without fear, his intentions liave ever been, and will ever be, without I'epioach; Ireland was justly proud of him ; where could his fellow bo met with? In the disastrous period that preceded the Union — at the time that measure was in pre- paration ; when Foster and Clare banished Abercrombie from Ireland because he was humane; Mhen murders marked the day, and the burning cottages of the peasantry illumined the darkness of the night : when affright and desolation stalked through the land; when it was a crime to love Ireland, and death to defend lier, — at that awful moment, Moira, the good, the great Moira, threw himself between his country and her persecutors; he ex- posed their crimes; he denounced their horrors ; he proclaimed and proved their guilt; and, although they were too power- ful to be beaten down by hi-.n, he has left his country the sad consolation of behold- ing a perpetual record of the infamy of her oppressors. " Good God! if his advice had been taken in 1797, what innocent blood would have been spared! how many cruel op- pressors would have been punished! and oh ! our country would still have a name- and be a nation! " Can these services be forgotten? can these vii'tues be unremembered? No, never; but still the truth must be told: this is Lord Moira''s administral on. He it was that stood between some worthless minions and the people's hopes. He had to choose between them; and he has given his protection, not to Ireland or the Catholics, but to Lord Yarmouth and his family. It is now confessed that a single word from Lord Moira would have dis- missed the minions, and placed Earl Grey and Lord Grenville at the head of affairs. Why was not that fated word pro- 334 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. nounced? Alas! I know not. Full sure, however, I am, that the intention which restrained it was pure and honourable; but I, at the same time, feel its fatal effects. We are, mj^ lord, to contmue slaves, because Lord Moira indulged some chivalrous notions of courtly ro- mance ! " It may be said that, as Lord Moira has interfered, the Catholics may reasonably expect some rehef. Let us not be de- ceived. From the present ministry we cannot expect anything. * * * " But, in sober sadness, in whom are we to confide? Are we to believe the word of Castlereagh? My lord, I would not believe his oath. Already has he been deeply pledged. He was a United Irishman, and as such must have taken their test. * * * it pledged him to Catholic emancipation and parliamentaiy reform. * * * But how has he re- deemed those pledges? Why, he has emancipated the Catholics by duping some of them at the Union, and uniformly voting upon every question against us; and he has reformed the Parliament by selling it to the British minister, Llay this Walcheren minister be suitably re- warded in the execration of his country ! and may he have engraved on his tomb for an epitaph, ' Vendidit hie auro patriam I' {^ He sulci his country for gold!) " No, my lord, from us Castlereagh can obtain no confidence; nor can his colleague, Lord Sidmouth, expect that the friends of toleration can confide in his promises. Lord Sidmouth, who de- clared to Farhament that he would prefer the re-enactment of the penal code to the extension of one other privilege to the .Catholics; Lord Sidmouth, who began his absurd career of persecution with the dissenters in England, — that Lord Sid- mouth (liberal and enlightened gentle- man!) has been selected for the Home Department. He it is who is to regulate the motions of our provincial government; he it is that is to cheer the drooping spirit of persecution in this country. His natural allies are embodied here — the group of ' good men,' as they fantastically designate themselves, who manage the legal administration of this country; men who have worked themselves into reputa- tion witli ancient maidens and decayed matrons by gravity of deportment and church -wardening piety, but who all their lives have been discounting religion and the Deity into promotion and the jiay and plunder of office — those men. together with our friend^ the solicitor - general" (^Bnshe). " have a suitable companion in Lord Sidmouth, and we should, instead of concessions, be prepared rather to ex- pect some other persecution, grounded, if possible, upon a pretext still more ab-surd than that 'pretence means purpose ;' that assertion which I defy an honest man, however credulous, to believe. "From this ministry we expect nothing : let us be on our guard, and cautiously watch their progress. As Lord Moira has been their patron, they will endea- vour to deceive him with a show of con- cession; but their object is to give a change to the question. In its present shape it presses upon them with all the force of present expediency and all the weight of eternal justice. If they could entrap us into collateral discussions, if they could entangle us in the chicanery of arrangements and securities, the public attention would be distracted and turned from the principal object, time would be wasted in useless discussions, animosities would be created upon points of little real importance, and wliilst the ministry practised the refinements of bigotry, they would give themselves credit for un- bounded liberality. "These are not imaginary fears; the nature of the subject must convince any man that such was the design of an ad- ministration that had for its only recom- mendations intolerance and incapacity. " Indeed, the indiscretion of the party has already betrayed itself. It is not twenty-four hours since a friend of mine had occasion to converse ynth one of those right honourables who do the business of the Castle, who are always as ready to pack juries as to obtain pardon for an assassin, or to write paragraphs in the Patriot. My friend said, ' Why, you are going, I find, to emancipate the Catho- lics at length.' ' We! ' replied the other. ' Oh no ; Canning's motion will entangle the rascals completely; we sliall easily get rid of them without committing our- selves.' " Of these men. Lord Donoughmore has advised us to be distrustful. 1 beg leave to say more. Let us utterly dis- believe them. It is impossible that they can do anything for us ; they would be THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 33: false to themselves if they were true to Ireland. But we are not without our resourses; wo have them in ourselves; -we have them in the liberality of our Irish Protestant brethren; we have them in the support of such men as the all- aecoraplished Vernon, son to tlie arch- bishop of York — as the honest and inde- pendent Ro.bert Shaw. We have also a rich resourse in tho eternal ridicule with which bigotry has lately covered itself in the persons of its chosen apostles, Faddy Duigenan and Jack Giffard; but, above all, we are strong in the justice of our cause, and in the inextinguishable right of man, in every soil and climate, to un- limited liberty of conscience. Let us, however, expect nothing from the mere pationsge of courts and ministers. The advice given by a noble advocate of ours, to other slaves, in a poem that it is im- possible to read without delight, is not inapplicable to our situation : — •Hereditary bondsmen! know ye not, Who would be tree, themselves must strike the blow — By theii right arms the conquest must be wrought. Will Gaul cr Muscovite redre^ss you? — No. True, the.v may I ly your proud despoilers low, But not lor you will fr ledom's altars Qauie Shades of the Helots! triumph o'er your foe, Greece, change thy lords, thy stale is still the same ; Thy glories all are o'ei , but not thy years of shame.' (This quotation from " Childe Harold" was a jiavourite one with O^Counell all throiu/h his life.) * * » * " It is true that after common sense has overthrown every pretence that there is anything in the Catholic religion hostDe to loyalty or liberty, another ground has been long since taken, and from time to time revived, by the unhappy dulness of one pedant or the other. It consists in an admission that the Catholic religion is quite innocent, and even laudable, in other countries, but that it acquires malignity from the soil on its transplantation into Ireland, In short, that other Papists are innocent or good, but that Irisb Papists are execrable. "This precious doctrine has been dressed up anew, in sufficiently bad Eng- lish, and published in a pamphlet called a ■ Speech,' by that snug little Foster who represents Trinity College in Parliament. * * * I should fear it not" {the might of Napoleon), " if a system of con- ciliation and mutual tolerance were once adopted — if justice were once distributed by the hand of confiding generosity — if the persecutions ceased, and that the persecutors were removed — if Grey were prime minister, and Moira, then restored to the hearts of his countrymen" (accord- ituj to Tone, there had been a time lohen the Irish mir/ht have chosen Moirn their Icing), " Lord-lieutenant. Every village would produce a regiment, and every field serve for a redoubt. The prince would then be safe and glorious" (/««m/>«r/.'), "and the country, combined in its strength, would laugh to scorn the power of every enemy. " This is a vision, but it might have been realised. And why has this prospect been closed? Why, to preserve the house- hold! Oh, most degrading recollection! My feelmgs overpower me; I must be silent." I shall now give a few passages from a .speech on Catholic emancipation, de- livered b}'' our hdro at an aggregate meet- ing held on the 2nd of July, 1812. Lord Fingal, the chairman, commenced the proceedings by congratulating the meet- ing on the certainty of their ultimate triumph. He also observed that " the bringing of the penal code under notice was ensuring success to the Catholic cause, because it was impossibe to con- sider its provisions witiiout having the mind coerced to assent to its repeal." Mr. Randall MacDonnell followed in the same strain, urging the necessity of ever- increasing exertion on the part of the Catholics to back up the efi'orts of their friends in Parliament. Our hero followed Mr. MacDonnell, commencing with com- pliments to the secretary, Mr. Hay. O'Connell next made some remarks, which shew that, to all appearance (but the appearance was illusory), the Catholic cause was then just on the eve of triumphing: — " VVe have to contemplate a novel scene — the Parliament of the United Kingdom, after nearly twelve years of neglect or rejection, has at length under- taken the consideration of our great cause. One branch of the legislature, by a triumphant majority, has resolved to investigate the penal code of Ireland, with a view to its repeal ; and perhaps before this hour a similiar resolution has been adopted by the House of Lords. " The voice of the House of Commons is, at all events, certain. In it the Irish j people have a distinct pledge that the 336 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. question of their freedom is to he taken into consideration, for the purpose of final adjustment, at an early period of the next session. The House of Com- mons is unequivocally pledged to some measure of emancipation. The effect of this vote may perhaps be diminished when it is recollected that, during the present session, the same honourable House has more than once rejected all inquiry; but times are altered, and we have now arrived at what appears to be the first great step in the progress to com- plete religious liberty. The preliminary to emancipation is over, and emancipa- tion itself, full and entire, is the natural, if not the necessary consequence. * * * " I rejoice, my lord, at our victory — not as the conquest of one party over another, nor with the view to any triumph over any other denomination of my countrymen, but because I look upon it as a victory obtamed by the combined activity of all classes of Irishmen over their own ^ijejudices, and over intolerance and illiberality. It is that species of victory tliat ought to endear the Irish Protestant to the Irish Catholic, because it has been obtained for the benefit of the latter, principally by the exertions of the former. It is doubly dear, because it holds out the prospect of mutual con- ciliation and mutual affection." He then says that, while he is ready, like Lord Fingal, to confide in the grow- ing liberality of the British nation (and more fool he, with all his worldly wisdom, if he means what he says ; and if he don't mean what he says, why does he say it?), he must at the same time " conjure the meeting to place its first and principal reliance in the determined spirit and un- alterable resolution to persevere until emancipation shall be complete, never to relax their efforts until religious freedom is established." This is to the point; still more so the greater portion of his next sentences : — " I may, without any allusion to its military import, which I dislike" nmni- bufj!), " remind my countrjTnen of the advice of Cromwell to his soldiers. The night was wet, and they, as usual, were engaged in prayer. ' Confide,' said he, ' in the Lord ; put all your trust and confidence m the Lord, but be quite sure to sleep upon yom- matchlocks.'' " (Laughter and loud cheering.) The version of Crom- well's saying, in Colonel Stewart Blacker's spirited, though perverse Orange ballad, " Oliver's Warning," is as follov/s: — " Then put your trust in God, my boys, and keep your powder dry." O'Connell argues that their own history teaches them Cromwell's lesson. "Within the last twenty years," he says, " there were no less than three different periods at which the Catholics might have been emancipated, if a combination of exertion had been used. "Twenty years, however, have passed away, and we are still slaves. My days, the blossom of my youth and the flower of my manhood, have been darkened by the dreariness of servitude. In this my native land — in the land of my sires — I am degraded without fault or crime, as an alien and an outcast. We do not. my lord, deserve this treatment. We ai-e stamped by the Creator with no inferiority : and man is guilty of injustice when lie deprives us of our just station in society I despise him who can timidly and meanly acquiesce in the injustice. Oh, let us at length seize this opportunity of abolishing the oppression for ever." In '93, he tells them they failed to secure complete emancipation, "simply because the Catholics were not sufficiently combined amongst themselves and sufli- ciently determined." At the period of the Union, they were divided, too. I shall give the following- passage in full: — " We thought and acted differently upon this melancholy subject; and, midst the bitter anguish which the memory of my extinguished country excites, I have consolations both personal and public. First, because the opposition, to the Union was (and I thank my God for if) the first act of my political life; and, secondly, I feel some comfort that the Catholics did not barter the constitution of their native land for advantages to themselves. I blame no person lor the failure of emancipation on that occasion ; on the contrary, I proudly lejoice tliat the Catholics, even those of them who supported that baleful and degrading measure, despised any idea of trafficking- upon, or profiting by, the miseries of Ireland. "My lord, all the Catholics are free from the guilt of having participated in the sale of their country ; and this benefit results, that they are bound by no con- tract to continue their thraldom. Aa_^, THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. .•^37 the existence of the penal code is sontJied htj tlie recollection that, in the efforts made to procure redress, a popular spiiit is roused, lohich, if not soon laid hy the voice of eman- cipation, may ijenerate a determination to reanimate the fallen constitution! " The third and last period at which the Catholics might have been emancipated occurred since I had the honour to be an humble labourer in the-(Jatholic cause: it was the commencement of Mr. Fox's administration. * * * IMr. Scully was present as a delegate at those declarations, when Mr. Fox proclaimed the restrictive <;ode as a crime — religious liberty as a rfght. ' I cannot,' said that enlightened man — ' I cannot consent to become your advocate, unless you are ready to concede to all other sects the toleration you require for yourselves.' ' We should be unworthy to obtain it, could we hesitate to accede to your terms ; we would gladly bestow upon all mankind what we ask for our- selves,' was the reply. " Upon this avowed principle, in 1805, Mr. Fox supported the claims of the Catholics; in 1806, that very Mr. Fox became minister. What could have pre- vented that principle from being carried into action?" O'Connell attributes the failure on this occasion to the "mistaken confidence of the Catholics," to " the unsuspecting credulity of the Irish heart." -'The noble generosity of the Irish disposition could not bear to doubt where it enter- tained affection ; or perhaps the very novelty of the voice of kindness had its charms. The Irish had been so long used to obloquy and harshness, that they received as a boon, deserving of gratitude, the mere language of conciliation. The result was, tiiat the favourable moment of compelling that administration either to emancipate or to resign, was passed by, and our servitude continues to this hour. " Let us profit by those lessons. * * * But shall we fail? Think you, are we to owe our freedom to Lord Castlereagh and to Lord Sidmouth? Let us, my lord, be- ware of raising too high the expectations of the country. In such a people as the Irish the effects of disappointment may be terrific. They are too apt to believe that which they wish. They are too prone to rely; and when the hour of political treachery has come, when the promised • graces ' are withdrawn! from light, the sudden violence of disappointed expecta- tion is not likely to be controlled by the influence of reason. Already we have seen the effects of blasting the hopes of the Irisli people." After referring to the administration of Lord Fitzwilliam, the hopes then raised, and the dire conse- quences tliat followed from the disappoint- ment of those hopes, he thus continues : — " Let us spare our country from the horrid consequences of outraged feelings. This is the last resort of public liberty in Europe, the only country where the sword alone, the tyrant's law, does not prevail. I, my lord, for one, am determined not to survive the representative system of Government in this country. Surely we ought not to endanger it by rousing those angry passions which must result from betrayed confidence. We should warn the people not to believe overmuch those who are hackneyed in duplicity and. treachery. " The opposition to Catholic emanci- pation has assmiied a new shape; bigotry and intolerance have been put to the blush, or covered with ridicule; every- body laughs at Jack Giffard and Paddy Duigenan, and their worthy compeer and colleague in England, Su- William Scott'" (Lord Eldon's brother, aftenvards Lord Stowell), " no longer ventures to meet with adverse front the justice of our cause. He may, indeed, talk of setting our question at rest — he may declaim upon the moral iixferiority of the Irish Ca,tholics ; but let him rest assured that so long as his children — if he have any — so long as the swarthy race of his Scotts, are placed by law on any superiority to the Irish CathoHcs, so long will it be impossible to put the question to rest. It never can, it never shall rest, save in unqualified, unconditional emancipation." Having indulg-ed in a parting sarcasm at Scott for liaving, as judge of the Ad- miralty Court, decided " precisely the same question in two different ways," he scouts the veto, the "arrangements," the " sanctions," the " securities," which, one after the other, British ministers talked of getting before conceding emancipation. He then proceeds in this style : — " Having disposed of ' veto, arrangement, sanctions, and securities,' there remains but one re- source for intolerance: the classic Castle- reagh has struck it out; it consists in — ■ what do you think? AVhy, in • hitches ! ' Yes, ' hitches' is the elegant word wliich THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. is now destined to proti'act our degrada- tion. It is in vain that our advocates have increased; in vain have oiir foes been converted ; in vain has William "Wellesley Pole become our warm ad- mirer. Oh, how beautiful he must hr.ve looked advocating the Catholic cause ! And his conversion, too, has been so satisfactory — -he has accounted for it upon such philosophic principles! Yes, he has gravely informed us that he was all his life a man detesting committees: you might see by him that the name of a conmiittee discomposed his nerves and excited his most irritabh? feelings; at the sound of a committee he was roused to madness. Now the Catholics had in- sisted upon acting by a committee — the naughty Papists had used nothing but pi'ofane committees; and, of course, he proclaimed his hostilitj*. But in propor- tion as he disliked committees, so did lie love and approve of aggregate meet- ings — respectable aggregate meetings. Had there been a chamlaer at the Castle large enough for an aggregate meeting, he ■would have given it. AVho does not see that it is quite right to doat upon aggre- gate meetings and detest committees, by law, logic, philosophy, and science of legislation? All recommend the one and condemn the other; and at length the Catholics have had the good sense to call their committee a board, to make their- aggregate meetings more frequent. They, therefore, deserve emancipation ; and, with the blessing of God, he (Mr Pole) would confer it on them ! (Laughter and cheers.) " But, seriously, let us recollect that Wellesley Pole is the brother of one of our most excellent friends — of Marquis "Wellesley, vi'ho has so gloriously exerted himself in our cause, who has manfully abandoned one administration because he could not procure our liberty, and re- jected power under any other unless formed on the basis of emancipation, and who has, before this hour in which I speak, earned another unfading laurel and the eternal affection of the Irish people by his motion in the House of Lords. * * * Lord Castlereagh, too, has declared in our favour, with the prudent reserve of ' the hitches ; ' he is our friend, and has been so theEe last twenty j^ears — our secret friend; as he says so upon his honour as a gentleman, •we are bound to believe him. If it be a merit,* in the minister of a great nation, to possess profound discretion, this merit Lord Castlereagh possesses in a super- eminent degree. Why, he has preserved this secret with the utmost success, "ho ever suspected that he had .='uch a secret in his keeping? * * * O admirable contriver ! O most successful place- man ! — most discreet and confidential of ministers ! "But what are his 'hitches?' Tliey constitute another 'secret.' I think, however. I understand them. In the morning papers of this day there ap- peai'ed a call upon the Protestants of the county of Sligo to come forward in support of the establishment. It looks like the tocsin of intolerance; the name signed to it is John Irwin. * * * If he be a hireling of the administration, and that this is the first demonstration of the ' hitches,' I proclaim his miserable attempt to the contempt of the enlightened Pro- testants of Ireland — its fate is certain. The Government may give it a wretched importance, but they never can afford it strength ; they may give it ' sanction,' but they cannot procure 'security' for bigotry. The Protestants, Presbyterians, and the Quakers of Ireland have too re- cently evinced the noble liberality of their sentunents — their sense of our wrongs, and their sympathy in the sufferings of their brethren, who are in their turn ready to die in their defence. The Irish Protestants of every denomination are too just and too wise to be duped into the yell of bigotry. The result of the attempt is certain. * * f "I said I understood Castlereagh 's 'hitches,' and I proclaim vhis as one of them ; I know, too, we shall have new per- secutions. * * * Believe nie, my pro- phetic fears are not vain: I know the managers well, and place no confidence in their holy seeming. Again, England affords another oppoii;un.ty of extend- ing the ' hitches,' under the pretence of making laws to prevent rebellion there; the administration will suspend the habeas corji/is, for the purpose of crushing eman- cipation here. * * * 'Jlie new laws occasioned by English rioters will pass harmless over their heails, and fall only upon you. * * * T'he ' hitches,' the ' hitches ' plainly mean all that can be raised of venal outcry against us, and all that can be enacted of arbitrary law, to prevent oiu" discussions. THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELT.. 339 ** Still, still we have resources — we Lave rich resources in those affectionate sentiments of toleration which our Irish Protestant brethren have proudly ex- hibited during the pa-esent year. The Irish Protestants will not abandon or neglect their own work; it is they who have placed us on our present elevation ; their support ha.s rendered the common cavise of our common country triumphant. Our oppressors, yielding an unv/illing assent to the request of the Protestants of Ireland, may compensate themselves by abusing us in common; they may style us agitators. jMr. Canning calls us agitators with iilterior views ; but those Protestant agitators are the best friends to tlie security and peace of the country; and as to us, Popish agitators — for I own it. my lord, I am an agitator, and we solemnly promise to continue so, until the period of unqualified emancipa- tion, until 'the simple repeal' — as to us, agitatoi's among the Catholics, we are become too much accustomed to calumny to be terrified at it. But how have Ave deserved reproach and obloquy? How have we merited calumny? * * * Let us rouse the Irish people, from one ex- treme to the other of the island, in this constitutional cause. Let the Catholic combine with the Protestant, and the Protestant with the Catholic, and one generous exertion sets every angry feeling at rest, and banishes for ever dissension and di\^sion. * * * We shall confer an honour on ourselves, and ensui'e the safety of our country." It may not be out of place to give here one or two specimens of the ludicrous style of argument against the Catholic claims, i-esorted to by English statesmen even in this year, 1812. Indeed, puerili- ties cts absurd were used against emanci- pation even up to the very day on which it was conceded, in 1829. On the ojst of January, 1812, Lord Aberdeen had indignantly asked in the House of Lords: — "After all the conces- sions that have been made to the Catholics, of what can they now compLun? Their complaint is reduced to this — that they are still precluded from holding certain offices. Will their advocates contend that they can claim, as a matter of right, their admissibility to those offices? If that doctrine is set up, 1 for one do not hesitate to declare that it is not tenable." Lord bidmouth had demanded: — "Is not emancipation a religious question? Is it not the duty of the House to protect the true religion established by law? Jlust they not greatly detract froip the estimation in which the true religion is held, if they so far countenance the mas» as to put it on a level with the Estab- lished Church? if they allow it to be regarded as a matter of indifference whether persons go to mass, to churchy or to the synagogue?" Castlercagh affected to dread tliat the power of the Pope in Ireland woul4 be used against the interests of the British em- pire. The Pope was now a prisoner in the hands of Napoleon. Referring to this, Castlerea.gh observed : — " But altliough it (the See of Rome) had hitherto con- ducted itself in a way that no fault could be found with it, it did not follow that if a future Pope should be absolutely nominated by Bonaparte, that the ecclesi- astical influence of the Pope might not be very much abused in Ireland. This was a danger that should be guarded against; and in that case, without deny- ing the Pope to be their spiritual head, (which was a main tenet of their religion), the correspondence between the bishops and the Pope ought to be carried on ia so open and undisguised a manner as not to give reasonable alarm to the State." Mr. Tierney, in replying to Cast^ereagh, said, with great readiness: — •' He could not imagine why an Irish bishop should not, in such a case, be dealt with like an English bishop, who would only lose his head." At an aggregate meeting of the Catho- lics in 1812, a certain Chevalier McCarthy appeared in the interests of the aristo- cratic section of the Catholic body. He endeavoured to induce the meeting to pass something like a vote of confidence in the Liverpool administration. Coun- sellor O'Gorman denounced the majority of the ministry as " bitter enemies, the remaining part of it disavowing us and disclaiming our emancipation, even fet- tered and restricted as they would give it. They have been for seven years p;ist talk- ing of those ' fences,' ' guards,' ' vetoes,* 'restrictions,' and, as they now call them, ' hitches,' and they have not as yet told us what they want or what we are to do. They have not agi'eed on this yet among themselves, and they call on us to antici- pate by our offers the result of their own discordant counsels. And to these men 340 THE LIFE OF DANIEL o'CONNELL. you are called on to humiliate your- selves!" The chevalier's attempt was •defeated. One jjeculiarity of the Liverpool <;abinet, which was nicknamed by Mr. Tieruey " Liberty Hall," was the apparent absence of restriction on the political opinions, regarding certain questions, of the indi^^dual members composing it. Thus, Catholic emancipation was sup- posed to be left an open question. Mr. Canning might lean towards emancipa- tion ; Lord Eldon be its bitter foe. The political squibs of the day made merry with this feature of the administration. One calls on the good feliows to fill, for this is " Liberty Hall," where -each may enjoy his pint and opinions to himself. All may follow there fancies : " Here Castlereagh sits, after wasting: bis wind lu telling us everything else but his mind ;" and, released from his pledge to enslave Ireland, his place being sure, he may think she ought to be saved; "While Eldon, enjoying a full dispensation From e vejyihitig (bless him !) that 's lUie toleration, May still load the Papi-.ts with blubber and gall, And Le'er be worse for it in Liberty Hall. ' Sidmoutli may trim, since to do so is now second natux'e to him ; and Vansittart is licensed •• to go on without knowing one thing he 's about." It is not sui-prising that the signs, not unfavourable to the Catholic cause, which appeared in Parliament in 1812, turned out illusory. Bigotry was still too strong and rampant to listen to justice and toler- ation. The "No Popery" cry was vehement. No doubt, too, that rather antiquated charmer, the Marchioness of Hertford, used, not without effect, all her influence as favourite of royalty, to defeat the hopes of the Catholics. I may as well quote from the Memoirs of the Times of Geor(]e the Fourth a curious and somewhat sensational passage, having reference to this notorious court-beauty : — " It is strange that every person, even the most profligate, abuses Lady Hert- ford ; yet all the aristocracy in England receive her and visit her. Lord said the other night, that she had as much niurdeied one of her admirers as if she had pulled the ti'igger which had shot liim. He then proceeded to say, that at the time she left that admirer she had one daughter by him, whom she loved much. but upon whom her husband doated also. So, in order not to part with this girl, she feigned its sickness and death, and buried a dead kid, instead of the child, at Leghorn,, and sent the girl away to England. She sent her under the care of a man whom I can never look uiDon without dislike. Think of any one's kid- napping another's child, and to please a woman! The wretched father wept his lost child for some time ; and wlien it was convenient to Lady Hertford to rid her- self of that child, she had the kid dis- interred in proof of the deception which she had practised, and informed the father that she sent him back his daughter alive and well. The shock proved too great for the unhappy man, who went mad and shot himself; and the villany has hitherto remained unpunished — the perpetrator of this tragedy can walk about in peace. People generally end this tragic tale by saying, ' Poor ! he was a great fool.' It wUl be better ^t the day of judgment to be that great fool than the woman who is dignified with the false epithet of clever." Of this lady Mr. Mitchel says: — '■ Her husband and her son were the closest boon companions of the lover of the father's wife and of the son's mother. These famous ' witchery' resolutions were supposed to have so strongly aroused the Protestant feelings of the prince, as to adjourn all thought of Catholic emanci- pation for many years, and to ha.ve been the cause of the exceedingly bad grace with which Iving George the I'ouith at last assented to that measure." The Irish in London had also displayed their contempt for that most worthless voluptuary, the prince regent, in the course of this same year, 1812. When celebrating the festival of St. Patrick, on the 17th of March, they had drunk the aged king's health with applause: but the regent's was received with partial applause and loud and repeated hisses. J^tieh.ncholy to relate, our brilliant Sheridan, whose health was also drunk on that occasion, in returnmg thanks for the compUmeut paid him, endeavoured to defend his ungrateful and thoroughly hollow-hearted " crony," the prince. In a low tone, Mr. Sheridan said he felt '• shocked at the sulky coldness and surly discontent with which they had, on that evening, drunk the health of the prince regent. (Disappi-o- bation.) * * * He knew well the THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 341 sentiments of the prince; and so -well satisfied was he that they were all tliat Ireland could wisJi that he (Mr. Sheridan) hoped that as he had lived up to them, so he might die in the principles of the regent. (Hisses and applause.) lie should be sorry personally to have merited their disapprobation. (Cries of ' Change the subj'.ct!' and 'Speak out!') He could only assure them that the prince remained unchangeably true to those principles. (Here the clamours became so general that the speaker became inaudible.)" The celebrated Cobbett expresses gratifi- cation at the circumstance of the prince's name having been received with hisses, instead of the " loathsome parasitical applause" of former times. For Sheridan he expresses some sjaiipathy, or, at least, sorrow: — " Oli. poor Sheridan! hissed down by his ovni countrymen, hooted down by those very persons who formerly heard him with such raptures. Here he ends, then : or if not, what is he reserved for? * * * Perhaps there is not, in the history of man, so complete an instance of sinking as we have here before us. There was a time Avhen Mr. Sheridan was not only looked upon, but wan second to no man in England, * * * from 1785 to 1796, * * * the most efficient opposer of Pitt and his band. I find all his motions well framed and well timed — all his speeches eloquent; * * * and what in the same man do 1 see now? An underling of the Jenkinsons and the Percevals!" Jenkinson was the family name of 'Lord Liverpool. It should, how- ever, be remembered that Sheridan was iit this time old, shattered in mind and in bodily health, ruined in his fortunes, dependent, harrassed by a thousand clinging cares. AVe now come to the general election of 1812. The ministry, after having lost their chief, Perceval, and after having suffered the shock of a vote of want of confidence in the I^ower House, were still morestartled by seeing a motion favourable to theCatholics carried by a large majority in the Commons, and only lost in the Lords by a majority of one ; so that the nominal defeat might be regarded, under existing cii'cumstancts, as a virtu;d triumph. In- deed, O'Connell, in the ijimerick speech from which I have already quoted, tells us that " the pious Lord Eklon, with all his conscience and calculations, and that immaculate distributor of criminal justice. LordEllenborough" (^English rhipf-i'istice). secured this majority of one " by t!ie aid of a LIE — a false, positive, palpable lie." told knowingly by the Courier, a London paper " in the permanent pay of i)ecula- tion and corruption," and " worthy of the meridian of Constantinople at its highest tide of despotism. This paper," he con- tinues, " was directed to assert the receipt of a letter from Dublin, from excellent authorit3^ declaring I know not how many peers, sons of peers, and baronets had retracted the resolutions of the 18th of June" (the ^'ivilchery^^ resohitiotis), "that those resolutions were carried by surprise, and that they had been actually rescinded at a subsequent meeting." O'Connell goes on to denounce this stiitement as a gross and unfounded lie. " But the Courier received its pay, and it was ready to earn the wages of its prostitution." Pie next points out the enormous bribes given by Government to purchase the services of one miserable paper in Dublin; and he asks: — ''If the bribe here be so high, what must it be in England, where the toil is so much greater? iVnd think you, then, that the Courier published, imsanc- tioned by its paymasters, this useful lie ? " Ailairs looking thus favourable for the Catholic party, the partisans of which, especially our hero, exerted themselves with the utmost zeal, during the Par- liamentary recess, at various meetings throughout the country, to advance their cause, the Government determined not to trust to the influence of the newly- roused " No Popery" cry on the existing Parliament. They resolved on a disso- lution. Accordingly, early in October, 1812, the usual proclamation for that purpose appeared, and writs for a general election were immediately issued. " On Thursday, the 5th of No\'em'oer, 1812, an aggregate meeting of the Catho- lics of the county of Dublm was held at Kilmainham, ostensibly to petition Par- liament, in reality to discuss the results of the elections just terminated, the conduct of particular persons in various localities during the struggle, and the general state and prospect of the cause. William Gerald Baggott, of Castle Bag- gott, took the chair. The proceedings were commenced by Eandal iVlcDonneli, who, after praising the conduct of the poorer classes of electors during the recent contest, introduced the resolutions that had been drawnti up. Then arose on 342 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O COKNELL. every side loud calls for "O'Connell! O'Connell!" The journals of the day tell us that, " after a short hesitation, THE Man of the People came forward and spoke to the following effect." But before I give a few extracts from O'Connell's oration on tliis occasion, 1 wish to observe, on the authority of John O'Connell, that the legal opinions de- livered by his illustrious father in the Limerick speecli, from which the passage closing the last chapter is an extract, *' were all verified in the courts of law. The city of Limei-ick, from being a nomination borough, was, by means of legal decisions, t!irov/n open to popular control, as Mr. O'Connell had pointed out. The expense was enormous, but was cheerfully borne by the patriotic citizens." A JNIr. Edward Ryan and a Mr. Patrick Creagh subscribed, each, £500. O'Connell had roused the slum- bering people of Limerick, and pointed out the road to victory. Tlie Verekers (the bead of this family is Lord Gort) were, at the general election we are noticing, driven irom. the representation of that city. It must be owned, how- ever, that Thomas Spring Rice (afterwards chancellor of the exchequer and Lord Monteagle), the successful popular can- didate, turned out in the long run no great acquisition. He was probably the first Irishman who nicknamed himself " a West Briton." But the reader and the populace are alike impatient to hear the opening of O'Connell's harangue. As a rule, you cannot measure the greatness of O'Con- nell by isolated extracts. The old saying, that you can judge of the strength and stature of Hei'cules from his foot (ex pe/Ie Herculevi), is not so often verified in O'Connell's case as in that of Grattan or Curran, etc. To see and comprehend the massiveness and might of O'Connell, you must review all his speeches, take his eloquence in its totality. Then the giant towers aloft before yoyr mind's eye. In the present instance, however, he com- mences with a noble burst of genuine Irish feeling and pathos that dn-ectly storms the heart: — " I could not be an Irishman, if I did not feel grateful, if 1 was not overpowered at the manner in which you have re- ceived me. iSoiTy, sunk, and degraded as my country is, I still glory in tae title of irisliman." • (Bursts of applause.) " Even to contend for Ireland's liberties is a delightful duty to me." (Entluisiastic plaudits./ " And if anything is wanting, in addition to the e\'idence of such humbler efforts as I have already been engaged in, for the restoration of our freedom and independence, to evince my devotion to the cause of my country, I do swear, by the kindness you have shewn me now, by any I have ever experienced at your hands, and by all that I hold valuable or worthy of desire, that my life is at her service." (Applause.) " And may the heavy hand of adversity fall down upon me, and upon all that are dearest to me — the children of my hearts — if ever I for- sake the pure pursuit of the liberty of Ireland." (Cheering for several minutes.) " Gentlemen, we are now arrived at a period when we are not only struggling for the, interest of our religion, but foi* the liberty, security, and peace of our Protestant brethren, both here and in England." (Applause.) '• We are arrived at an important crisis, when a serious profession has been made on our behalf by the English Parliament. This is the first lime that a declaration such as that to which I allude was ever made in the senate. It is the first time that the voice of religious liberty was really heard in the British Parliament; the first time that men were allovv^ed to judge for themselves, and to obey the Divme precept, of treating others as they themselves would wish to be treated." (Hear! hear!) "The period is highly impoftant, and calls for all the watchfulness, zeal, and assiduity of which we are capable. An administration (formed, Heaven knows how!) have given us a specimen of their acting a neutral part towards us. Th y have promised that they shall not inter- pose their authority to interrupt the good intentions of any man. Some of them have even pledged themselves to support the Catholic question ; and probably half of them have given some earnest of their improved liberahty. I will, however, give them little credit for sincerity; I believe they would not even pretend to lay much claim to our confidence; they have too much modesty to expect to be believed by us." (Laughter, and cries of Hear! hear!) "We have. I be- lieve, without paying much attention to the professions of the Cabinet, ariived at a most important crisis. It behoves THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 343 ever J man of us to do Iiis duty, and to take care that we shall lose none of the important acquisitions we have made. This very administration of whom I am speaking, notwithstanding all their fair promises, have been busil,y employed in throwing new impediments in our way since last session. But those impedi- ments shall do us little injury, if we do our duty. Thej'^ certainly are our natural enemies: they hate liberty; they have an inherent abhorrence of freedom; and their ho.stility to us is particularly embit- tered by our contempt for them." (Loud applause.) " Yes, gentlemen, such are the men whom you, in your resolutions, have justly termed ' incompetent' and ' profligate;' such are the men who now command the destinies of those realms, and probably the fortmies of Europe." (Hear! hear!) He next refers to a favourable change of sentiment towards the Catholic hodj on the part of the celebrated naval hero. Lord Cochrane, then one of the members for Westminster. The gallant Cochrane had been prejudiced against the Catholics on account of what he deemed the slavish doctrines of "the Komish Church." O'Connell says: " It is some consolation, gentlemen, that there is some person who can assure ministers there is no danger in granting us emancipation — we are not too fond of liberty." (Laughter.) ''But, gentlemen, see the consistency and ration- ality of our calumniators! At one time they say we are agitating democrats, crying aloud for an unwarrantable portion of freedom ; the very next moment they turn round, and tell us that we have a marvellous propensity for slavery ! " (Loud cries of Hear! hear!) * * * "Let Lord Cochrane recollect -what the first L'ishman that ever was born said at Newry." (^Here the Itarned (jtntlemaii was interrupted for several mumtes by -the accla- mations of the assembly.) "I am not surprised," continued Mr. O'Connell, when silence was again restored — '•! am not surprised that you shoidd feel the most ecstatic emotions of the Irish heart when I but allude to the name of John Philpot Curran. " (Renewed cheering.) "It recalls to us everything that is dear or interesting in our history, it pronounces everythmg that we are proud to live with in this age, and every- thing that shall be estimable in the minds of postei'ity." (Loud applause.) "Ikiiow the name of John Philpot Curran has conducted you back involuntarily to that most awful era in our annals when we were deprived of our independence, and metamorphosed into the colony of a people . who were not and who are not in the least worthy of being our masters! But, my friends, if we are true to ourselves — if Protestants and Catholics be alive to their commonest and most intunate interests — we may. proiiting, among other aids, by the assistance of this very idol of ours to whom you have just paid your affection- ate tribute, — we may, I say, become a kingdom once more!" (Thunders of applause.) "I had adverted to what my most venerated friend, John Philpot Curran, said at Newry. I would take leave to remind Lord Cochrane of it. assuming it to be the expression of Catholic feeling. The Irish Cicero there observed that Englishmen love the privilege of being- governed by Englishmen. I would tell my Lord Cochrane that Irishmen fully as highly value the privilege of being governed by Irishmen." (Long-continued applause.) In the next paragraph, O'Connell has occasion to say: "In the course of my professional pursuits I have been one hundred times compelled to swear that I did not think it lawful to commit murder." (A laugh.) * * * "But we are told we have predilections: we do not deny the charge. As for my part, I do not value the man who has not his predilec- tions and resentments ; but at the same time, Lord Cochrane may be as much afraid of our predilections for the (Trand Lama of Tartary as for the Pope of Home." (Hear! hear!) "Those imputations upon our value for an oath evince only the miserable ignor- ance of our opponents, with reg;ud to our principles and uniform conduct. They bring to my recollection, again, the words of the gi-eat Curran at Newry, and serve to convince me still more of their entire justice, when he said ' that they are unfit to rule us, making laws, like boots and shoes for exportation, to fit us as they may.' " (Long-continued applause.) After a few sentences in praise of the gallant Cochrane, O'Connell proceeds to review the gains and losses to the Catho- lic cause in the elections. As much of the interest of this survey was necessai'ily of a temporary nature, 1 shall skim over 344 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O OONNELL. the rest of the speech rapidly. He com- plains that " Christopher Hely Hutchinson has lost his election in Cork." But in various other places additional supporters ■ of the Catholic cause have been returned. He is dijlighted that -"in Downpatrick even John Wilson Croker " (the Quarterly reviewer, the Rigbj^ — the man for "the dirty work" — of D'Israeli's novel of Coningshy) " of the Admiralty, has, to use a northern phrase, been kicked out." (Laughter and cheers.) " I remember, about six years ago, when this gentleman and I were going circuit together, his Protestantism did not keep my Popery much in the background." (Laughter and cheers.) "K, however, he were not a Protestant, I verily believe he would have been doomed to drudge all his life at the bar, though he has been since that tfme in Parliament, and is now rewarded with a situation in the .Admiralty. * * * In Trinity College * * * we have had an accession to our strength, in that credit to Ireland, that ornament to the bar, and that honour to human intelli- gence, William Conyngham Plunket." (Loud applause.) In Dublin, '-.lack Giffard, the police magistrates, and Billy McAuley " could not get a man in opposi- tion to Mr. Shaw. " The ' felonious rabble' of the corporation, if I may use the delicate expression of one of its mem- bers, had not courage to produce one person to oppose Henry Grattan, who •watched Ireland's independence in its cradle, and followed it to its tomb.' * * * "Such is the state of the elections; such is the state of your cause. Is it not demonstrative, that if you had a Protes- tant Parliament in Ireland, they would emancipate you?" The reporters describe the manner in which tliis sentence was received by Mr. O'Connell's auditory as having been en- thusiastic in the extreme. The shouts of applause were taken up again and again for many minutes, with imabated or even increasing fervour — in fact, "it was not for a long time that he was suffered to proceed." He then took occasion to say that the Catholics of Clare (destined also to glorify themselves in 18:^9, at the Clare election, the most remarkable event con- nected with O'C'onnell's life) had covered themselves with eternal honour. He assailed Castlereogh, who was returned by a northern constituency, with infinite gusto : "In speaking of Lord Castlereagh, I do not know how to select words to adequately expi-ess my feelings. I should become an old man in foaming out the torrent of hatred and indignation with which my bosom teems. * * * Let the man who buried thousands of our brave troops in the marshes of Walcheren, and destroyed the springs of his countrj-'s liberty, know the feelings which are ex- perienced by an Irishman when his name is mentioned." (Loud applause.) "To counterbalance the gloom that is thrown over the mind when the ^success of an enemy to the cause of Ireland is contemplated, I might exhibit the pro- spects that are presented by the residence of the young Duke of Leinster among.st us." (Loud acclamations.) " Inheriting such a load of the virtues of his ancestry, his promises are great. Indeed, there is something in the name of Fitzgerald to cherish and console Ireland under the heaviest afflictions." (Loud applause.) * -» « 4t^g ^Q ^Y^Q L^Q Popei-y' agitators, we have leading them a Mr. Steward Corry, whoever he may be ; a Mr. Owen Wynne, who is said to be a great encourager of fat pigs." (Much laughter.) " He is also, however, a brother to that important dignitary, the caterer-general of the Castle. Theji we have a Mr. Counsellor Webber, who was an assistant-barrister " (^assistant-barristers, a class of inferior judges, are vow called chairmen of counties), "or. in the words of the great Flood, who had availed himself of the 'refuge for tried incapacity,' In one county, an obscure clergyman v/as the author of a pompous string of anti- Catholic resolutions. "But the hypocritical affectation of liberality in those gentlemen was worst of all!" (Hear! Hear!) "Catholics were then- loving brothers! everything that was sweet, and delightful, and sublime, and affectionate ! ! " (Laughter.) "They love us — oh how dearly! — but they desire us to continue slaves! They desire us to fight for them and to pay the taxes — but they keep the rewards to them- selves!" At the same time O'Connell took good care, while denouncing what he called "the disgraceful efforts" of a "disgrace- ful No-Popery faction" in the counties of Sligo, Leitrim, Roscommon, and Long- ford, to contrast with them "that formid- able and imposing document, the Protes- tant petition, signed ' by every one of THE LIFE OP DANIEL o'CONNELL. 315 wcdth, respoctahility, or talent that was to be fomid throughout the country." After descanting at some length upon the necessity of unanimity of sentiment among all classes at the awful crisis now inijK'ndiug (meaning, 1 presume, the fin;d .struggle with Napoleon the Great), OX'onnell said, " It would be much wiser for ministers, at this juncture, to enter into a treaty of amity with the Catholics of Ireland, than to Livish a subsidy of eighty thousand pounds upon Bernadotte " (rrence Parsons, had said, in 1795, in the Irish House of Common, "that if -a resistance to anything would be jDro- ductive of evil consequences, it was that against the wishes of the people, and the prospects which have been held out to them; that if the demon of darkness should ct)me from the infernal regions upon earth, and throw a firebrand among the people, he could not do more to promote mischief." After quoting this passage, O'Connell adds: — "1 hope some one will remind him of this part of his speech at the King's county meeting, which I hear he is to attend to-nioiTOw. He continues, ' he had never heard of a parallel to the infatuation of the minister' (he Uiay see one now) ; ' and if he per- sisted, every man must have five or six dragoons in his house.' •' And it was true; for in many hoxises it was necessary for the owners to have five or six dragoons, and the whole coun- try Wtis thrown into coiifus-iou. I hope and trust that no such, consequences will THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONN ELL. 351 ever again occur, thougli sure I am that such is 'the desire of the British miiHRter. He wishes (to make use of the words of Christopher Uely Hutchinson) that yon should draw the .ticord, to afford him an opportvirih/ •,f throwiiif] away llie acalihard. Certain 1 am, that at this very moment there is a foul conspiracy to draw the v/arm-hearted, but unthinking, people of Ireland into a sham plot, to give an opportunity of wreaking vengeance on her dearest sons." He then warns them to shun all temptation to join in disturb- ances. The speech was frequently inter- rupted by vehement cheermg. Passing by a speech delivered by O'Connell on the loth of Feb' lary, 1813, in reference to the conduct of tl'.e Eng- lish Catholics, and more particularly of one of their agents, named Charles Butler, a strenuous advocate of the veto, whose uuathorised interference in the Irish Catholic affairs, hostility to the Irish Board, and desire to transfer the direction of the emancipation movement from the hands of the Irish to those of the English Catholics, who were jealous of the former, had naturally provoked our hero, I shall end this chapter with a few passages, chiefly of a humorous cha- racter, from his speech addressed, on the 8th of May, 1813, to the Catholic Board, on the subject of " No-Popery petitions." The petition styled that of the " free- holders, freemen, and inhabitants of the .city of Dublin," presented with ludicrous pomp and ceremony, contained an im- mense number of forged and fictitious names of the most absurd kind. O'Con- nell desired that this fact should be brought under the notice of the Imperial Parliament. Before analysing the frau- dulent signatures, he speaks eloquently of the wrongs and ealunmies suifered by the CathoJics of Ireland: — "It was not," says he, " in the field of battle that our liberties were cloven down" (Hear! hear !) " No ! Our ancestors, when they fought, if they did not advance as victois, surrendered upon the faitli of an honour- able capitulation, but that faith was violated, and its violation was justified by calumny!" (Hear! hear' hear!^ " The Catholics were accused of enter- taining opinions which they have ever detested — of adopting positions and principles which they have ever abhorred. Charges were brought forward and re- peated against tliein, which could be aptly contradicted only in the broad wl- garity of Lord I^llenborough's hmguage — ■ Charges false as hell !' " But it is to the more humorous por- tions of this speech tliat I wish es])ecially to call the, reader's attention. After say- ing Jiat "The Protestants of Ireland peti- tioned last year on our behalf; the wealth, the worth, the talent»of the Irish Protes- tants — everyt!)ing that was noble, and dignified, and hitelligent, and independent amongst our Protestant brethren united in that petition," — after other remarks of the same tendency, he commences an enumeration of the /yona j^r/e " No-Popeiy" signatures by saying, " It was a matter, therefore, of much curiosity to discover who the two thousand eight hundred ' freemen, freeholders, and inhabitants of the city of Dublin ' could possibly be." Having given an analysis of "the entire catalogue of genuine signatures," he pro- ceeds, thus: — " But there will remain near two thousand signatures to be still accounted for — near two thousand signatures will remain, for whom no owner can be foimd." (Hear! hear!) " Of these there are some hundreds which purport to belong to individuals who have indig- nantly disclaimed them. There are, in short, some hundreds of forgeries. Need we give a more strikmg instance tluiii that of Mr. Stephens? He discovered that his name had been forged to tliis petition, and unmediately wrote to tlie mayor to inform him of the circimistance. The .maj'or did not condescend to give any reply, but took the known forgery to England, and presented it to the House as genuine." (Hear! hear!) "When forgery was exhausted, mere fiction was resorted to. There was danger in giving names which, being in common .use, might be disavowed by individuals bear- ing them. The lubricators of this petition set disavowal at defiance; they produced nameswhich no man everbore or will bear" (Hear! i:ear!); >' they invented John He>lpath, and coupled him with John Ihdpath; they attached James Hedpath to Jamas Bidpath ; they united the noble families of the Feddlies to the illustriousra.ee of Piddhes, they created the Jonneybones, and added the Mac- Coobens to tl)e Muldongs; to the un- cleanly Kottens is annexed the musical name of Navasora; the Sours and the Soars; the Dandys and the Feakens; 352 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL, the Gilbasleys and the Werrillas; five Ladds and five Palks ; the Leups and the Zcalthams; the Huzies and the Hozies ; the Sparhngs and the Sporlmgs; the Fitzgetts and the Fibgetts; the Hofiins and the Phantons; and the . Giritrows, and the Hockleys, and the Breakleys; the Rnssinghams. and the Favuses, and the Sellhews, and tWe ]\IogTats, and Cal- yells — all, poor innocents, are made to combine against us, and to chime with the Pithams, and Paddams, the Chim- nicks, and Rimnicks, and Clumnicks, and the llowings, and Riotters. They threw in the vulgar Pawns, and, after a multitude of fantastic denominations, they concluded with Zachariah Diamond." (Great laughter.) ' ' In short, a more tasteless group of imaginary beings was never conjured up oy the delusions of magic. To the time of ' Jonny Armstrong,' they gave us five-and-tweuty Armstrongs, and placed *3ighteen Taylors on the list. It ought to have been ' four-and-twenty tailors, all in a row;' there would have been some pleasantry in it. In short, by these means, by the force of mere invention, upwards of one thousand names have been added to this petition, and one thousand children of the brain of those worthy managers of intolerance appeared in formidable array against us at tlie bar of the House of Commons, covered with the mantle of the mayor for swaddling- clothes." (Laughter.) * * * "To impose upon that House" (o/ Commons) '• is. I presume, a breach of its privileges." (Hear!) " Let us demand inquiry and investigation. Our assertion wUl be, that two-thirds of the signatures to this petition were foi-ged or simply lictitious. But we will not require an assertion to be credited without proof; we will challenge inquiry ; we will shew ■five hundred names without an owner; and we will then point out the fabricators of this mean and dishonourable scheme to retard the progress of emancipation. " If we are mistaken, our enemies can easily confute us ; they have only to pro- duce the individual. Mi*. Plotter may head their party. I should be glad to see the gentleman. If he does not live in the city^ — this Plotter — I presume he is to be found in the liberties. After liim, our enemies can shew off Mr. Wevilla, hand-in-hand with Mr. Nava- sora; and Johnny Bones, Esq., may appear with Fibgetts. Gent. ; and even ]Mr. Knowing can be summoned to come forward in company with Mr. Dandy." (Cheers and laughter.) " But why should I fatigue with the ridiculous catalogue? If those men exist — pardon my supposition — if they exist, they live for our enemies ; if they do not exist, then what is to become, in public estimation, of those our enemies — of those worthy allies of the traducers of her Royal Highness?" (Caroline, the slighted and ac- cused wife of the prince-regent, of ivhose cause C Cnnnell was a champion.) ' ' Perhaps their spirit of loyalty may save them in Parliament from punishment, but theu- fraud and forgery will consign them to the execration and contempt of posterity." O'Connell concluded, amid great cheer- ing, by moving the following resolution : — "■Resolved, That a sub-committee of twenty-one members be aj^poiuted to take into consideration the most proper method of investigating and respectfully submitting to Parliament the alleged forged and fictitious signatures to the petition against the Catholic claims, pre- sented to the House of Commons by the Lord Mayor of Dublin.'' This resolu- tion, seconded by the wcaltliy Major Bryan of Jenkinstown, coui)ty Kilkenny, was agreed to unanimously. Another resolution was added : — •' Resolved, That the committee be dirt^cted to request the aid of such of our Protestant brethren as may be pleased to assist in accomplishing the object of their report." * CHAPTER XVI. Plan of the Eemainder of this Biography — O'Connell's memorable Deieuce of Maget-, on a Charge foi- Libel— His terrible Invectives against Saurin, the Attoiney-Geueral — His Bold Defiance of the Judges — His noble Appeal to the Orange Jury; their Baseness and Servility— O'Connell threatens the Attorney-General in Court with Personal Chastisement — The Judges astounded at his daring — Magee meanly disavows O'Connell — Magee's Sentence — Moral Triumph of O'Connell— Meetinj;s in Approval of his Conduct — Notices of the Case of Hugh Fitzpatrick, and other Forensic Lfforta of O Connell. * The books to which I am endebted for the mate- rials of the foregoing chapter are — The Select Speeches of Daniel U'Ccmriell. iM.I'., edited, with Historical Notices, etc., by his son, John O'Connell, Esq ; Life anil Times of Daniel O'Connell, etc., Dublin, J Muilany, 1 Parliament 8ti-eet; History of Ireland, by Joiin Mitchel; The S/ieeckes of the Right Honourable John Phili ot Curran, edited, with Memoirs and Historical Notices, by Thomas Davis, Esq; Menioir>of the Timet of George the Fouith; Cot/ijett's Register; Moore's Memoirs of R. B. Slteridan. TUE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 353 I UA\E dwelt at greater length upon the detiiils of O'Connell's rise to the leader- ship of the Catholics of Ireland than may possibly seem justifiable, considering the limits within which this biography must be confined, and the circumstance that the incidents of so many long years of his career yet remain to be noticed. But, after all, this period of his ascent to such unprecedented power over his country- men seems to me to comprehend one of the most instructive portions of his bio- graphy — one that illustrates, perhaps, better than any other part of his life, the true nature of the man in his prime, and of the vast difficulties with which he had to contend, the character of the men associated with him in the struggle, and, in short, ail the peculiar features of the cause and the movement which he directed. The greater number of the subsequent years of his career need only be noticed in a rapid summary. At the close of this period of the veto question, divisions arose in tlie Catholic councils, that, along with other circumstances and causes, tended to paralyse the struggle, and retard its success for years. The public events, then, of the years between 1813 and 1823 may be sketched very slightly. So also may those of the years betweenl829 and 1843, the memorable year of the monster meetings for ■' Repeal of the Union." On the other hand, his won- derful and famous defence of Magee, his reconstruction of the Catholic Association iu 1823. his triumph of '29, his last repeal movement, and the closing days of his life, together with a few scattered inci- dents of peculiar biographical value, must be reproduced or given in some detail. I mean, too, to introduce at least one other chapter of anecdotes and varieties, illustrative of his opinions and fancies, and of his sports and habits during his periodical relaxations from public cares at Darrynane Abbey. As I have, in the course of the last few chapters, given copious specimens of his style of speak- ing on political subjects, so, in order to complete the picture of O'Connell as a great orator, I mean to devote the pre- sent one to extracts from his forensic mas- t-erpiece, the noble defence of JNIagee. This chapter once concluded, few other inci- dents or passages shall be allowed to tres- pass unduly on the reader's attention. I shallrigidly economise my remaining space. The celebrated State trial of the King versus ]*Jagee commenced on the 2Gth of July, 1813. Magee, the proprietor of the Dublin Evening l^ost, was prosecuted by the bigoted Attorney-General Saurin — the descendant of one of the Huguenot fami- lies of France — for an alleged libel on the Duke of Richmond, the viceroy. Some articles in his paper contained a review and condemnation of the viceroy's admin- istration. Saurin was assisted by the subtle and brilliant Solicitor-General Bushe. The day on which the trial opened, the court was crowded from an early hour, owing to the intense interest which the case excited in the public mind. It had been twice post^Doned on account of the absence, as the affidavits of the traverser stated, of witnesses mate- rial to his defence. The attorney-gene- ral had already told the judges, ' the}'' would be shocked to hear that the defendant was indicted and charged, by this indictment, with charging his grace of Richmond with being a 'murderer.'" On the days of postponement, and dur- ing some preliminary proceedings, that followed the entrance of the Lord-chief justice, shortly after eleven o'clock on the morning of the trial, sharp alterca- tions had arisen between the attorney- general and O'Connell, w^ho was leading counsel for the traverser. In truth, there was black and bitter blood between the tw"0. At length, an Orange jury having been sworn, the trial commenced. Mr. Kemmis opened the indictment, and the attorney -general followed in a ferocious speech. His bloodiiound style of hunting* down his game had been well illustrated in the j^rosecution of Dr. Sheridan, al- ready slightly noticed. He had com- menced his speech on that occasion in the following strange style: — " My lords and gentlemen of the jury, I cannot but congratulate you and the public iJiat the day of justice has at last arrived.'''' In the present State prosecution he was per- fectly furious. The terrible invectives of O'Connell preserve for us a vivid image of his truculence. It was on Tuesday, the 27th of July, that O'Connell rose to speak for the defence. The court was densely crowded ; expectation was wound up to the highest pitch ; breathless sUence prevailed. " I consented," began the great advo- cate, "to the adjournment yesterday, gentlemen of the jury, from that impulse of nature which compels us to postpona 12 354 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. pain. It is, indeed, painful to me to address you ; it is a cheerless, a hopeless task to address you — a task which would require all the animation and interest to be derived from the working of a mind fully frauglit with the resentment and disgust created in mine, yesterday, by that farrago of helpless absurdity with which Mr. Attorney-General regaled you. "But I am now not sorry for the delay. Whatever I may have lost in vivacity, I trust I shall compensate for in discretion. That which yesterday ex- cited mj'' anger, now appears to me to be an object of pity, and that which then roused my indignation, now only moves to contempt. I can now address you with feelings softened, and I trust subdued; and I do, from my soul, declare, that I now cherish no other sensations than those which enable me to bestow on the attorney-general, and on his discourse, pure and unmixed compassion. "It was a discourse in which you could not discover either order, or method, or eloquence ; it contained very little logic, and no poetry at all. Violent and viru- lent, it was a confused and disjointed tissue of bigotry, amalgamated with con- genial vulgarity. He accused my client of using Billingsgate, and he accused him of it in language suited exclusively for that meridian. He descended even to the calling of names: he called this young gentleman a 'malefactor,' a 'Jacobm,' and a 'ruffian,' gentlemen of the jury; he called hiuT 'abominable,' and 'seditious,' ^nd ' revolutionary,' and ' infamous,' and a 'ruffian' again, gentlemen of the jury; he called him a ' brothel-keeper,' a 'pander,' 'a kind of bawd in breeches,' and a "ruf- fian ' a third time, gentlemen of the jury. " I cannot repress my astonishment, how Mr. Attorney- General could have preserved this dialect in its native purity. He has been now for nearly thirty years in the class of polished society; he has for some years mixed amongst the highest orders in the State ; he has had the honour to belong, for thirty-five years, to the first profession in the world — to the only profession, with the single exception, perhaps, of the military, to which a high-minded gentleman could conde- scend to belong — the Irish bar, — to that bar at which he has seen and heard a Burgh and a Duquery ; at which he must have listened to a Burton, a Ponsonby, and a Curran ; to a bar which stiU con- tains a Plunket, a Ball, and, despite of politics, I wiU add a Bushe. With this galaxy of glory flinging their light around him, how can he alone have remained in darkness? How has it happened that the twilight murkiness of his soul has not been iUumined with a single ray shot from their lustre? Devoid of taste and of genius, how can he have had memory enough to preserve this original vulgarity? He is, indeed, an object of compassion, and, from my inmost soul, I bestow on him my forgiveness and my bounteous pity. "But not for him alone should com- passion be felt. Recollect that upon his advice, that with him as the prime mover and instigator, those rash, and siUy, and irritating measures of the last five years, which have afflicted and distracted this long-suffering country, have originated — with him they have all originated. Is there not, then, compassion due to the millions whoso destinies are made to de- pend upon his counsel? Is there no pity due to those who, like me, must know that the liberties of the tenderest pledges of their affections, and of that which is dearer stUl, of their country, depends upon this man's advice? " Yet let not pity for us be unmixed; he has afforded the consolation of hope. His harangue has been heard ; it will be reported — I trust faithfully reported ; and if it be but read in England, we may venture to hope that there may remam just so much good sense in England as to induce the conviction of the folly and the danger of conducting the Govern- ment of a brave and long-enduring people by the counsels of so tasteless and talent- less an adviser. " See what an imitative animal man is! The sound of raO&an — ruffian — ruiium, had scarcely died on the attorney-gene- ral's lips, when you find the word honoured with all the permanency of print, in one of his pensioned and well- paid, but ni-read, newspapers. Here is the first line in the Dublin Joiirned of this- day: — 'The ruffian who wiites for the Freemaii's Juurnal.'' Here is an apt scholar; he profits well by the attorney- general's tuition. The pujiil is worthy of the master; the master is just suited to the pupil. "1 now dismiss the style and measure of the attorney-general's discourse, and I require your attention to its matter. That matter I must divide — although THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. 855 -with him there -was no division — into two uneqiuil portions. The lirst, as it was by far the greater portion of his discourse, shall be that which was alto- gether inapplicable to the purposes of this prosecution. The second, and in- finitety the sni.aller portion of his speech is that wliich related to the subject- matter of the indictment which you are to try. lie has touched upon and dis- figured a great variety of topics. I shall follow him at my good leisure through them. He has invited me to a wide field of discussion. I accept his challenge with alacrity and with pleasure. " This extraneous part of his discourse, which I mean first to discuss, was dis- tinguished by two leading features. The first consisted of a dull and reprovmg sermon, with which he treated my col- leagues and myseK for the manner in which we thoiight fit to conduct this defence. He talked of the melancholy exhibition of four hours wasted, as he said, in frivolous debate, and he obscurely hinted at something like incorrectness of professional conduct. He has not ven- tured to speak out, but I will. I shall say nothing for myself, but for my col- leagues — my inferiors in professional standing, but infinitely my superiors in every talent and in every acquirement — my colleagues, whom I boast as my friends, not in the routine language of the bar, but in the sincerity of my esteem and affection ; for my learned and upright colleagues. I treat the unfounded insinua- tion with the most contemptuous scorn ! '•AH I shall expose is the utter inat- tention to the fact, which, in small things as in great, seems to mark the attorney- general's career. He talks of foiu' hours. Why, it was past one before the last of you were digged together by the sheriff, and the attorney-general rose to address you before three. How he could contrive to squeeze four hoiurs into that interval, it is for him to explain; nor should I notice it, but that it is the particular prerogative of dulness to be accurate in the detail of minor facts, so that the attorney-general is without an excuse when he departs from them, and when for four hours you have had not quite two. Take this also with you, that we assert our uncontrollable right to employ them as we have done: and as to his advice, we neither respect nor will we receive it; but we can afford cheerfully to pardon the vain presumption that made him offer us counsel. " For the rest, he may be assured that we will never imitate his example. We will never volunteer to mingle our politics, whatever they may be, with our forensic duties. I made this the rigid rule of my professional conduct ; and if I shall ap- pear to depart from this rule now, I bid you recollect that I am compelled to follow the attorney-general into grounds which, if he had been wise, he would have avoided. " Yes, I am compelled to follow him into the discussion of his conduct towards the Catholics. He has poured out the full vial of his own praise on that conduct — praise in which, I can safely assure him, he has not a single unpaid rival. It is a topic upon which no un- bribed man, except himself, dwells. I admit the disinterestedness with which he praises hunself , and I do not envy him his delight; but he ought to know, if he sees or hears a word of that kind from any other man, that that man receives or expects compensation for his task, and really deserves money for his labour and invention. " My lord, upon the Catholic subject, I commence with one assertion of the attorney-general, which I trust I mis- understood. He talked, as I collected Irim, of the Cathohcs having imbibed principles of a seditious, ti'easonable, and revolutionary nature. He seemed to me most distinctly to charge us with treason. There is no relying on his words for hits meaning — I know there is not. On a former occasion, I took down a repetition of this charge full seventeen times on my brief, and yet, afterwards, it turned out that he never intended to make any such charge ; that he forgot he had ever used those words, and he disclaimed the idea tliey naturally convey. It is. clear, there- fore, that upon this subject he knows not what he says ; and that these phrases are the mere flowers of his rhetoric, but quite innocent of any meaning ! " Upon this account 1 pass him by; I go beyond him, and I content myseK with proclaiming those charges, whoso- ever may make them, to be false and base calumnies. It is impossible to refute such charges in the language of dignity or temper. But if any man dares to charge the Catholic body, or the Catholic Board, or any individuals of that Boards 356 THE LIFE OF DANIEL CONNELL. ■with sedition or treason, I do here, I shall always, in this court, in the city, in the field, brand him as an infamous and profligate liar! " Pardon the phrase, but there is no other suitable to the occasion. But he is a profligate liar who so asserts, because he must know that the whole tenor of our conduct confutes the assertion. What is it we seek?" Chief-Justice. "What, Mr. O'Connell, can this have to do with the question which the jury are to try ? " Mr. O'CvnncIl. " You heard the attorney- ijemral traduce and calumniate us; you heard !iim icith patience and with temper; listen now to our viiulication. " 1 ask, what is it we seek? WTiat is it we incessantly and, if you please, clamorously petition for? ^Vliy, to be allowed to partake of the benefits of the constitution. We look to the participa- tion in the constitution as our greatest political blessing. If we desired to destroy it, would we seek to share it? If we wished to overturn it, would we exert ourselves, through calumny and in peril, to obtam a portion of its blessings? Strange inconsistent voice of calumny! You charge us with intemperance in our exertions for a participation in the consti- tution, and you charge us at the same time, almost in the same sentence, with a design to overturn that constitution. The dupes of your hj'pocrisy may believe you ; but, base calumniators, you do not, you cannot, believe yourselves. ■■ The attorney - general — this ' ivisest and best of men,' as his colleague, the solicitor-general, called him in his pre- sence — the attorney-general next boasted of his triumph over Pope and Popery : ' I put down the Catholic Committee ; I will put doAvn. at my own good time, the Catholic Board.' This boast is partly historical, partly prophetical. He was wrong in his history; he is quite mis- taken in his prophecy. He did not put down the Catholic Committee ; we gave v.p that name the moment that it was confessedly avowed that this sapient attorney -general's polemico - legal con- troversy dwindled into a mere dispute about words. He told us that in the English language ' pretence ' means ' pur- pose.' Had it been French, and not English, we might have been inclined to respect his judgment, but in point of English we venture to differ from him: we told him ' purpose,' good Mr. Attorney- General, is just the reverse of ' pretence.' The quarrel grew waim and aiiii^iated; we appealed to comuiou sense, to t!ie grammar, and to the dictionary. Common sense, grammar, and the dictionary de- cided in our favour. He brought his appeal to tliis court; your lordship, and your brethren, unanimously decided that, in point of law — mark, mark, gentlemen of tlie jury, the sublime wisdom of law: — the court decided that, in point of lav.^, ^pretence' does mean '■purpose!^ " Fully contented with this very reason- able and more satisfactory decision, there stili remained a matter of fact between us: the attorney-general charged us with being representatives. We denied all representation. He had two witnesses to prove the fact for him ; they swore to it one way at one trial, and directly the other way at the next. An honourable, intelligent, and enlightened jury dis- believed those witnesses at the first trial" {Dr. Slicridan''s). '• Matters were better manuaged at the second trial'' {Mr. Kirican's) ; " the jury were better ar- ranged. I speak delicately, gentlemen; the jury were better arranged, as the witnesses were better informed, and, accordingly, there was one verdict for us on the representative question, and one verdict against us. " You know the jury that found "or us ; you know that it was h'ir Charles Sixxton's Castle-lisfc jury that found agamst us. Well, the consequence was, that, thus encouraged, Mr. Attorney- General pro- ceeded to force. We abhorred tumult, and were weary of litigation; we new- modelled the agents and managers of the Catholic petitions: we formed an assembly, respecting which there could not be a shadow of pretext for callmg it a representative body. We disclaimed representation ; and we rendered it impos- sible, even for the \arulence of the most malignant law-ofiicer living, to employ the Convention Act against us. That, even upon the attorney - general's own construction, requires representation as an ingredient in the offence it prohibits. He cannot possibly call us representatives; we are the individual servants of the pub- lic, whose business we do gratuitously but zealously Our cause has advanced even from his persecution; and this he calls putting down the Catholic Committee ! " Next, he glorifies himself in his pro- THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 357 spect of putting down the Catholic Board. I'or the present, he, indeed, tells you that, much as he hates the Papists, it is im- iiecessiuy ff)r liim to crush our Board, because we injure our own cause so much. He says that wo are very criminal, but we are ?o foolish that our folly serves as a compensation for our wickedness. "We are very wicked and very mischievous, but then we arc such foolish little criminals that we deserve his indulgence. Thus he tolerates offences because of their being- committed sillily; and, indeed, we give him so much pleasure and gratification, by the injurj- we do our own cause, that he is ^ared the superfluous labour of impeding our petition by his prosecutions, fines, or imprisonments. '' He expresses the very idea of the Roman Domitian, of whom some of you possibly may liave read: he amused his days in torturing men; his evenings he relaxed in the humble cruelty of impaling flies. A courtier caught a fly for his imperial amusement : ' Fool ! ' said the emperor, ' fool, to give thyself the trouble of torturing an animal that was about to burn itself to death in the candle ! ' Such is the spirit of the attorney-general's commentary on our Board. Oh, rare attorney-general! Oh, best and wisest of men!!! " But, to be serious. Let me pledge myself to you that he imposes on you when be threatens to crush the Catholic Board. Illegal violence may do it; force may effectuate it; but your hopes and his Avill be defeated, if he attempts it by any course of law. I am, if not a lawyer, at least a barrister. On this subject 1 ought to know something ; and I do not hesitate to contradict the attorney-general on this point, and to proclaim to you and to the coiuitry that liie Catliolic Board is per- fectly a legal assembly; that it not only does not violate the law, but that it is entitled to the protection of the law, and, in the very proudest tone of firmness, I hurl dejiauce at the attorney-general. " I defy him to allege a law or a statute, or even a proclamation, that is violated by the Catholic Board. No, gentlemen, no ; his religious prejudices — if the absence of every chanty can be called anything religious — his religious prejudices really obscure his reason; his bigoted intoler- ance has totally darkened his under- standing, and he mistakes the plainest facts, and misquotes the clearest law, in the ardour and vehemence of his rancour. I disdain his moderation ; I scorn his for- bearance; I tell him he knows not the law, if he thinks as he says; and if he thinks so, I tell him to his beard, that he is not lionest in not having sooner prose- cuted us — and I challenge him to that prosecution. "It is strange, it is melancholy, to reflect on the miserable and mistaken pride that must inflate him to talk as he does of the Catholic Board. The Catho- lic Board is composed of men — I include not myself; of course, I always except myseK — every way his superiors, in birth, in fortune, in talents, in rank. What! is he to talk of the Catholic Board lightly? At their head is the Earl of Fingal, a nobleman whose exalted rank stoops beneath the superior station of his virtues, whom even the venal minions of power must respect. We are engaged, patiently and perseveringly engaged, in a struggle, through the open channels of the constitution, for our liberties. The son of the ancient earl whom I have mentioned cannot, in his native land, attain any of the honourable distinctions of the State; and yet Mr. Attorney- General knows that they are open to every son of every bigoted and intem- perate stranger that may settle amongst us. " But this system cannot last; he may insult, he may calumniate, he may pro- secute, but the Catholic cause is on its majestic march; its progress is rapid and obvious; it is cheered in its advance, and aided by all that is dignified and dis- passionate, by everything that is patriotic, by all the honour, all the integrity of the empire ; and its success is just as certain as the return of to-morrow's sun and the close of to-morrow's eve. " We vjill, ive must, soon he emancipated in despite of the attorney-general, aided as he is by his august allies, the aldermen of Skinner's Alley. In despite of the attorney - general and the aldermen of Skinner's Alley, our emancipation is cer- tain, and not distant. " I have no dilficulty in perceiving the motive. of the attorney-general in devot- ing so much of his medley oration to the Catholic question, and to the expression of his bitter hatred to us, and of his determination to ruin our hopes. It had, to be sure, no connection with the cause, but it had a direct and natural connec- tion with you. He has been all his life 358 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. reckoned a man of consummate cunning and dexterity; and whilst one wonders that he has so much exposed himself upon those prosecutions, and accounts for it by the proverbial blindness of religious zeal, it is still easy to discover much of his native cunning and dexterity. Gentle- men, he thinks he knows his men — he knows j'ou. Many of you signed the No- Popery petition; he heard one of you boast of it ; he knows you would not have been summoned on this jury if you had entertained liberal sentiments ; he knows all this, and therefore it is th.at he. with the artifice and cunning of an experienced nisi prius advocate, endeavoiu's to win 3'our confidence and command your affec- tions by the display of his congenial illibeiality and bigotry. "You are all, of course, Protestants. See what a compliment he pays to your religion and his own when he endeavours tlius to procure a verdict on your oaths ; when he endeavours to seduce you to what, if you were so seduced, would be perjury, by indulging your prejudices, and flattering you by the coincidence of his sentiments and wishes. Wi]l he suc- ceed, gentlemen? Will you allow him to draw you into a perjury out of zeal for your religion? And will you violate the pledge you have given to your God to do justice, in order to gratify your anxiety for the ascendency of what you believe to be His church? Gentlemen, reflect on the strange and monstrous inconsistency of this conduct, and do not commit, if you can avoid it, the pious crime of violatmg your solemn oaths, in aid of the pious designs of the attorney-general against Popery. " Oh, gentlemen, it is not in any light- ness of heart I thus address you; it is rather in bitterness and sorrow. You did not expect flattery from me, and my client was little disposed to offer it to you. Besides, of what avail would it be to flatter, if you came here predeter- mined, and it is too plain that you are not selected for this jury from any notion of your impartiality? " But when I talk to you of your oaths and of your rehgion, I would full fain I could impress you with a respect for both the one and the other. I, who do not flatter, tell you that, though I do not join with you in belief, I have the most imfeigned respect for the form of Chris- tian faith which you j)rofess. Would that its substance, not its foiTns and temporal advantages, were deeply im- pressed on your minds ! Then should I not address you in the cheerless and hopeless despondency that crowds on my mind, and drives me to taunt you -ndth the air of ridicule I do. Gentlemen, I sincerely respect and venerate your reli- gion ; hut I despise, and I now apprehend your prejudices, in the same proportion as the attorney - general has cultivated them. In plain truth, every religion is good — every religion is true to him who, in his due caution a,nd conscience, believes it. There is but one bad religion — that of a man who professes a faith Tfliich he does notbeheve; but the good religion may be, and often is, corrupted by the wretched and wicked prejudices which admit a dift'erence of opinion as a cause of hatred. "The attorney -general, defective in argument, weak in his cause, has artfully roused your prejudices at his side. I have, on the contrary, met your preju- dices boldly. If your verdict shall be for me, you will be certain that it has been produced by nothing but unwilhng conviction, resulting from sober and satisfied judgment. If your verdict be bestowed upon the artifices of the attor- ney-general, you may happen to be right; but do you not see the danger of its being produced by an admixture of passion and prejudice with your reason? How difficult is it to separate prejudice from reason, when they run in the same direc- tion ! If you be men of conscience, then I call on you to listen to me, that your consciences may be safe, and your reason alone be the guardian of your oath, and the sole monitor of your decision." O'Connell now proceeds to the sub- ject of the indictment: "Mr. Mageeis charged with publishing a libel in his paper, called tlfe Dublin Evcmrig Post. * * * Gentlemen, this is not a libel on Charles Lennox, Duke of Eichmond, in his private or individual capacity. It does not interfere with the privacy of his domestic life. * * * Towards the man there is not the least taint of malignity ; nay, the thing is still stronger. Of Charles, Duke of Richmond, person- ally, and as disconnected with the ad- ministration of public affairs, it speaks in terms of civility, and even respect. * * * "The duke is here in this libel, my lords — in this libel, gentlemen of the THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 359 jury, the Duke of Richmond is called an honourable man, and a respectable soldier. Could more flattering expres- sions be invented? * * * It" (the jjuhlication) "does not involve any re- proach against the Duke of Richmond in any other than in his public and oflicial character. * * * The word seditious is, indeed, used as a kind of make-weight in the introductory part of the indict- ment. But mark! and recollect that this is not an indictment for sedition. It is not, then, for private slander, nor for any offence against tiic constitution, that Mr. Magee now stands arraigned before you. '• In the third place, gentlemen, there is this singular feature in this case — namely, that this libel, as the proseciitor calls it, is not charged in this indictment to be ' false ' * * * This I believe to be the first instance in which the allegation of falsehood has been omitted. To what is this omission to be attributed? Is it that an experiment is to be made how much further the doctrine of the crimi- nality of truth can be drawn? Does the prosecutor wish to make another bad precedent? * * * Attend to the case, and you will find you are not to try Mr. Magee for sedition, which may en- danger the State ; or for private defama- tion, which may press sorely upon the heart, and blast the prospects of a private family; and that the subject-matter for your decision is not characterised as false, or described as untrue. * * * The case is with you ; it belongs to you ex- clusively to decide it. His lordship may advise, but he cannot control your deci- sion, and it belongs to you alone to say Avhether or not, upon the entire matter, you conceive it to be evidence of guilt and deserving of puuisliment. The statute law gives or recognises this your right, and therefore imposes this on you as your duty. * * * The solicitor-general cannot now venture to promulgate the sla\4sh doctrine which he addressed to Dr. Sheridan's jury, when he told them ' not to pi-esumc to differ from the cou^rt in matter of law.' The law and the fact are here the same — namely, the guilty or innocent design of the publication. * * * The verdict which is required from a jury in any criminal case has nothing special in it; it is not the finding the fact in the affirmative or negative; it is not, as in IScotland, that the charge is proved or not proved. No ; the jury is to say whether the prisoner be guUty or not; and could a juror find a true verdict, who declared a man guilty upon evidence of some act, perhaps praiseworthy, but clearly void ef evil design or bad conse- quences. * * * iVb jydge can dictate to a jury ; no jury ought to allow itself to be dictated to. " If the solicitor-general's doctrine were established, see what oppressive conse- quences might result." (Here lie adroitly introduces another darkly -shaded portrait of Attorney - General Saurin.') ' "At some future period, some man may attain the first place on the bench, by the reputa- tion which is so easily acquired by a certain degree of church-wardemng piety, added to a great gravity and maidenly decorum of manners. Such a man may reach the bench — for I am putting a mere imaginary case ; he may be a man without passions, and therefore without vices; he may, my lord, be a man superfluously rich, and therefore not to be bribed with money, but rendered partial by his bigotry and corrupted by his prejudices. Such a man, inflated by flattery and bloated in his dignity, may hereafter use that character for sanctity, which has served to promote him, as a sword to hew down the struggling liberties of his country ; such a judge may interfere be- fore trial ! and at the trial be a partisan ! " Gentlemen, should an honest jury, could an honest jury (if an honest jury were again found), listen with safety to the dictates of such a judge? * * * It cannot be controverted, that in the pre- sent instance, that of an alleged libel, the decision of all law and fact belongs to you." The orator next proceeds to make eome observations on the law of libel. He goes into its history. He shews how, by means of the doctrine of construction, it came to pass in the course of time, that " a law made to punish false nmaom^s was equally applicable to the true." At con- siderable length he enters into the history of the infamous tribunal of the Star- chamber and its infamous proceedings He tells how, to aid its tjTannous vigil- ance over "the new enemy to prejudice and oppression, the press," it adopted the civil code — ^not, iadeed, the good principles of that famous code, such as that which allowed truth to be a defence against a charge of libel (these were aU rejected), but its bad principles. I give 360 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. the conclusion of his observations on the Star-chamber. " The Star-chamber was soon after abolished. It was suppressed by the hatred and vengeance of an outraged people, and it has since, and until our days, lived only in the recollection of abhorrence and contempt. But we have fallen upon bad days and evil times, and in our days we have seen a lawyer, long of the prostrated and degraded bar of England, presume to suggest an high eulogiimi on the Star-chamber, and re- gret its downfall ; and he has done this in a book dedicated, by permission, to Lord EUenborough " (^Chief -justice of England). This is, perhaps, an ominous circumstance; and as Star-chamber pun- ishments have been revived — as two years' imprisonment has become familiar — I know not how soon the useless lumber of even well-selected juries may be abolished and a new Star-chamber created. "From the Star-chamber, gentlemen, the prevention and punishment Oi libels descended to the courts of common law, and with the power they seem to have inherited much of the spirit of that tribunal. ServiUty at the bar and pro- fligacy on the bench have not been want- ing to aid every construction unfavourable to freedom, and at length it is taken as granted and as clear law, that truth or falsehood are quite iaimaterial circum- stances, constitutiag no part of either guilt or innocence. ' ' I woixld wish to examine this revolt- ing doctrine, and, in doing so, I am proud to tell you that it has no other foundation than in the oft-repeated asser- tions of lawyers and judges." lie declares it as his opinion that its authority is solely based on the dicta of judges and writers — overbearing judges and servile la^vyers. He feels it an agreeable duty to express this opinion. '• I have no professional rank, or sta- tion, or talents to give it importance, but it is an honest and conscientious opinion, and it is this : that in the discussion of public subjects and of the administration of public men, truth is a duty^ and not a cri)itc. "You can at least understand my de- scription of the liberty of the press ; that of the attorney-general is as unintelligible as contradictory. He tells you, in a very odd an quaint phrase, that the liberty of the press consists in there being no previ- ous restraint upon the tongue or the pen. How any previous restraint could be im- posed on the tongue is for the wisest of men to tell you, unless, indeed, he resorts to Dr. Lad's prescription with respect to toothache eradication. * * * jf the crime of libel be undefined, or un- certain, or capricious, then, instead of the absence of restraint before publication being an advantage, it is an injury ; in- stead of its being a blessing, it is a curse — it is nothing more than a pitfall and snare for the unwary : this libertj^ of the press is an opportunity and a temptation offered by the law to the commission of crime — it is a trap laid to catch men for punishment. * * * Indeed, to such a wild extent of caprice has Lord Ellen- borough carried the doctrine of crime in libel, that he appears to have gravely ruled that it was a crime to call one lord " a stout-built special pleader," although, in point of fact, that lord was stout-built, and had been very many years a special pleader. And that it was a crime to call another lord " a sheep-feeder from Cam- bridgeshire," although that lord was right glad to have a few sheep in that county. These are the extravagant vagaries of the Crown lawyers and prerogative judges." He tells them the only way they can arrive at "any national rule," is "to adopt his description. Reason and justice equally recognise it, and genuine law is much more closely connected with reason and justice than some persons will avow." The libel "is a discussion upon the admmistration of public men." Magee, instead of being prosecuted, would have been sure to make a fortune by Govern- ment patronage, if he had changed his tune: " if he went over to the other side and praised the Duke of Richmond; if he had sufficient gravity to talk, without a smiie, of the sorrow of the people of Ireland at his grace's departure ; if he had a visage sufficiently lugubrious to say so, without laughing, to cry out ' mournfully, oh ! mournfully! ' for the departure of the Duke of Richmond ; if at a period when the people of Ireland, from Magherafelt to Dingledecouch, are rejoicing at that dej^arture. Air. Magee could put on a solemn countenance, and pick up a gi-ave and narcotic accent, and have the resolu- tion to assert the sorrow of the people for losing so sweet and civil a Lord-lieutenant, — why, in that case, gentlemen, you know the consequences. They are obvious. THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 361 * * * Recollect that the attorney-general told you tliat the press was the protection of the people against the Government. Good lieaven! gentlemtm, how can it protect the people against the Govern- ment, if it be a crime to say of that (Government tliat it has committed errors, displays little talent, and has no striking features ? Did the prosecutor mock you when he talked of the protection the press afforded the jieople? * * * Here is a watchman, * * * and the first thing that is done to this watchman is to knock him down, and bring him to a dungeon for announcing the danger he is bound to disclose. I agree with the attorney- general, the press is a protection, but it is not in its silence or in its voice of ilattery." O'Connell asserts that he is entitled to the verdict of the jury upon the first and second paragraphs of the alleged libel, the latter of which ended by saying the people of Ireland " must find themselves at a loss to discover any striking feature in his grace's administration that makes it superior to the worst of his predeces- sors." The orator proceeds thus: — ••He" {the attorney -general), "indeed, passed on to the next sentence with an air of triumph, with the apparent cer- tainty of its producing a conviction. I meet him upon it; I read it boldly; I Avill discuss it with you manfully. It is this :— ^ •' ' Tliey insulted, they oppressed, they murdered, and they deceived.' • ' The attorney-general told us, rather ludicrously, that they — meaning the duke's predecessors — included, of course, him- self. How a man could be included amongst his predecessors, it would be difficult to discover. It seems to be that mode of exjaression which would indicate that the attorney-general, notwithstanding his foreign descent, has imbibed some of the language of the native Irish. But our blunders arise not like this, from a confusion of idea: they are generally caused by too great condensation of thought; they are, indeed, frequently of the head, but never, never of the heart. Would I could say so much for the attor- ney-general! His blimder is not to be attributed to his cool and cautious liead; it sprung, I much fear, from the mis- guided bitterness of the bigotry of his heart." O'Connell then proceeds to shew, by a long historic review, quoting chiefly the Protestant historian, Dr. Leland, the tyrannous rule and butcheries of preceding viceroys, lie says: "Until I shall see the publishers of Leland and of Hume brought to your bar, I defy you to convict my client." He then talks of " the com- mission to inquire into defective titles" to property, during Strafford's administra- tion, in the reign of Charles the First, when the bestowal " of four shillings in the pound" on the Lord-chief- justice and the Lord-chief-baron made it the interest of those great legal functionaries to in- crease the king's revenue by deciding against the holders of landed property, lie quotes from Strafford's letters that viceroy's account of his iniquitous ma- chinery and proceedings, and continues his address in these words : — " Thus, gentlemen of the jury, all was ready for the mockery of law, and justice called a trial. " Now, let me take any one of you; let me place him here, where Mr. IMagee stands ; let him have his property at stake ; let it be of less value, I pray you, than a compensation for two years' imprisonment; it will, however, be of sufficient value to interest and rouse all your agony and anxiety. If j^ou were so placed here, you would see before you the well-paid attorney - general, perhaps malignantly delighted to pour his rancour upon you ; on the bench would sit the corrupt and partisan judge, and before you, on that seat which you now occupy, would be placed the packed and predetermined jury. "I beg, sir, to know what would be your feelings, your honour Ihumour?^ your rage. Would you not compare the attorney-general to the gambler who played with a loaded die? And then you would hear him talk, in solemn and monotonous tones, of his conscience. Oh! his conscience, gentlemen of the jury! " But the times are altered. The press, the press, gentlemen, has effec- tuated a salutary revolution ; a commis- sion of defective titles would no longer be tolerated; the judges can no longer be bribed with money, and juries can no longer be — I must not say it. Yes, they can — you know, we all know — they can be stiil inquired out, and 'packed,' as the technical phrase is. But you, who are not packed — you, who have been fairly 362 THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. selected, will see tliat the language of the publication before us is mildness itself compared with that which the truth of history requires — compared with that which history has already used. " I proceed with this alleged libel. The next sentence is this : — "'The profligate, unprincipled West- moreland.' I throw down the j^^-aper and address myseH in particular to some of you. There are, I see, amongst yon some of our Bible ^listributors. and of our suppressors of vice. Distributors of Bibles, suppressors of vice, what call you profligacy? * * * Suppose the peer- age was exposed to sale — set up at open auction — it was at that time a judicial office; suppose that its price, the exact price of this judicial office, was accurately ascertained by daily experience — would you call that profligacy V If pensions were multiplied beyond bv^unds and beyond example ; if places were augmented until invention was exhausted, and then were subdivided and split into halves, so that two might take the emoluments of each, and no person do the dvity, — if these acts were resorted to in order to corrupt your representatives, wotdd you, gentle sup- pressors of vice, call that profligacy? " If the father of children selected in the open day his adulterous paramour ; if the wedded mother of the children dis- j)laycd her crime unblushingly; if the assent of the titled or untitled wittol to his own shame was purchased with the people's money, — if this scene, if these were enacted in the open day, would j^ou call that profligacy, sweet distributors of Bibles? The women of Ireland have aU been beauteous to a proverb ; they were, without an exception, chaste beyond the terseness of a proverb to express ; they are still as chaste as in former days. — but the depraved example of a depraved court has furnished some exceptions, and the action for criminal conversation — before the time of Westmoreland unknown — has since become more familiar to our courts of justice. " Call you the sad example which pro- duced those exceptions — call you 'that profligacy, supprc-jsors of vice and Bible distributors? The vices of the jjoor are within the reach of control; to suppress them, you can call in aid the church- w\arden and the constable; the justice of the peace Avill readily aid you, for he is a gentleman; the Court of Sessions will punish those vices for you by fine, by imprisonment, and, if you are urgent, by whipping. But, suppressors of vice, who shall aid you to suppress the vices of the great? Are you sj^icere, or are you, to use your own phraseology, whitewashed tombs — ptinted chai-nel- houses? Be ye hypocrites? If you are not, if yoi: be suicere — and, oh, how I wish that you were! — if you be sincere, I will steadily require to know of you, what aid you expect to suppress the vices of the rich and great? Who wiU assist you to suppress those vices? The churchwarden? Why, he, I believe, handed tJicm into the best pew in one of your cathedrals, that they might lovingly hear divine service together! The constable? Absurd! The ju.stice of the peace? No, upon his honour! As to the Court of Sessions, you cannot expect it to inter- fere ; and my lords the judges are really so busy at the assizes in hurrying the grand-juries tlirough the presentments, til at there is no leisure to look after the scandalous faults of the great. Who, then, sincere and candid suppressors of vice, can aid you? The press; the press alone talks of the profligacy of the great, and at least shames into decency those whom it may fail to correct. The press is your, but your only, only assistant. Go, then, men of conscience, men of religion, go then, a,nd convict John ]\lagee, because he publislied that West- moreland was profligate and unprincipled as a Lord-Ueutenant ; do convict, and then return to your distribution of Bibles and to your attacks upon the recreations of the poor, under the name of vices ! " Do, convict the only aid which virtue has, and distribute your Bibles that you may have the name of being religious. Upon your sincerity depei^ds my client's prospect of a verdict. Does he lean upon a broken reed? " I pass on from the sanctified portion of the jury which I have latterly ad- di-essed, and I call the attention of you all to the next member of the sentence : — • " ' The cold-hearted and cruel Camden.' " Here 1 have your prejudices all armed against me. In the administration of Camden your faction was cherished and triumphant. "W'^ill you prevent him from being caUed cold and cruel? Alas! to- day, why have I not men to address who would listen to me for the sake of im- THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 363 partial justice! Eut even with you the case is too powerful to allow me to despair. '■'■ Well, I do say, the cold and cruel Camden. Why, on one circuit, during his administration, there were one himdred individuals tried before one judge. Of these, ninety-eight were capitally convicted, and ninety-seven hanged! I understand one escaped; but he was a soldier who mur- dered a peasant, or something of that trivial nature. Ninety-seven victims in one circuit!! "In the mean time, it was necessary, for the purposes of the Union, that the flame of rebellion should be fed; * * * the rebellion was not then ripe enough. * * » jjj i\^Q mean time the soldieiy were turned in at free quarters amongst the wives and daughters of the jieasantry. " Have you heard of Abercrombie, the valiant and the good — he who, mortally wounded, neglected his wound until victoiy was ascertained ; he who allowed his life's stream to flow unnoticed, because his country's battle was in suspense ; he who died the martyr of victory; he who commenced the career of glory on the land, and taught French insolence " (what fol- lows is, of course, a hit at Saurin), " than which there is nothing so pennanent — even transplanted, it exliibits itself to the third and fourth generation — he taught French insolence tliat the British and Irish soldier was as much his superior by land as the sailor was confessedly at sea; he, in short, who comnieiijced that career which has since placed the Irish Wellington on the highest pinnacle of glory? Aber- crombie and Moore were in Ireland under Camden. Moore, too, has since fallen in the hour of tiiumph — Moore, the best of sons, of brothers, of friends, of men ; the soldier and the scholar ; the soul of reason and the heart of pity — Moore has, in documents of which you may plead ignorance, left his opinions upon record with respect to the cruelty of Camden's administration. But you all have heard of Abercrombie"s proclamation — for it amounted to that; he proclaimed that cruelty in terms the most unequivocal ; he stated to the soldiery and to the nation that tlie conduct of the Camden admmis- tration had rendered ' the soldiery for- midable to all but the enemy.' '• Was there no cruelty in thus de- grading the British soldier? And say, was not the process by which that de- gradation WAS effectuated cruelty? Do, then, contradict Abercrombie, upon your oaths, if you dare; but, by doing so, it is not my client alone you will convict; you will also convict yourselves of the foul crime of perjury. " I now come to the third branch of this sentence; and here I have an easy task. All, gentlemen, that is said of the artificer and superintendent of the Union is this — ' the artful and treacherous Cornwallis.' Is it necessary to prove that the Union was effectuated by artifice and treacheryf For my part, it makes mj blood boil when I think of the un- happy period which was contrived and seized on to carry it into effect ; one year sooner, and it would have made a revolu- tion — one year later, and it would have been for ever impossible to carry it. The moment was artfully and treacherously seized on, and our country, that rvas a nation for countless ages, has dwindled into a province, and her name and her glory are extinct for ever. * * * ' ' Indeed, Mr. Magee deserves no ver- dict from any Irish jury who can hesitate to think that the contriver of the Union is treated with too much lenity in this sentence. He fears your disapprobation for speaking with so lii';le animosity of the artificer of the Union. "There was one piece of treachery committed at that period, at which both you and I equally rejoice: it was the breach of faith towards the leading Catho- lics. The written promises made them at that period have bean since printed. I rejoice with you that they v^ere not ful- filled. When the Catholic trafiicked for his own advantage upon his coimtry's miseries, he deserved to be deceived. For tills mockeiy I thank the Cornwallis admmistration. / rejoice, also, that my Jirst introduction to the stage 0/ public life icas in opposition to that measure. " In hvimble and obscure distance I followed the footsteps of my present adversaries." Here, referring to an i^Jiti- union newspaper that Xfas under the control of his present opponents, he says : " If their editor should be gravely denied, I shall only reply, ' Oh, cease your fmi- ning.' " This is a hit at Solicitor-General Bushe, who, at the time of the Union, pubhshed a pamphlet, fidl of wit and taient, bearing as its title the words quoted by O'Conneli. The orator p-ro- ceeds : — 364 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. " The charge of bemg a Jacobin was at that time made against the present attorney - general — him, plain William Saurin — in the very terms, and with just as much truth, as he now applies it to my client. His reply shall serve for that of Mr. Magee; I take it from the Anti- Union of the 22nd March, 1800:— " ' To the charge of Jacobin, Mr. Saurin said he knew not what it meant, as applied to him, except it was an opposition to the will of the British minister.' " So says Mr. Magee. But, gentlemen, my eye lights upon another passage of Mr. Saurin's, in the same speech from which I have quoted the above; it was in these words : — "'Mr. Saurin admitted that debates might sometimes produce agitations, but that was the price necessarily paid for liherty.'' " Oh, how I thank this good Jew for the word ! Yes, agitation is, as Mr. Saurin well remarked, the price necessarily paid for liberty. We have paid the price, gentlemen, and the honest man refuses to give us the goods." (Much laughing.) "Now, gentlemen, of this Mr. Saurin, then an agitator, I beg leave to read the opinion upon this Union, the author, of which we have only called artful and treacherous. From this speech of the loth March, 1800, I select these passages : — " 'Mr. Saurin said he felt it his duty to the Crown, to the country, and to his family, to warn the minister of the dreadful consequences of persevering in a measure which the people of Ireland almost unanimously disliked.'' And again : — " 'He, for one, would assert the prin- ciples of the glorious revolution, and boldly declare in the face of the nation, that when the sovereign power dissolved the compact that existed between the Government and the people, that moment the right of resistance accrues. " ' Whether it would be prudent in the people to avail themselves of that right, would be another question. But if a legislative union were forced on the country against the will of its inhabitants, it would be a nidlity, and resistance to it would be a struggle against usurpation., and not a resistance against law.' " May I be permitted just to observe, how much more violent this agitator of the year 1800 than we poor and timid agitators of tlie year 1813! When did we talk of resistance being a question of prudence? Shame upon the men who call us intemperate, and yet remember their own violence ! " But,' gentlemen, is the attorney- general at liberty to change the nature of things with his own official and pro- fessional prospects? I am ready to admit that he receives thousands of pounds by the year of the public moneys, in his office of attorney-general — thou- sands from the Crown solicitor — thou- sands, for doing little work, from the custom-house; biit does all this public booty with which he is loaded alter the nature of thi)igs, or prevent that from being a deceitful measure, brought about by artful and treacherous means, against which Mr. Saurin, in 1800, preached the holy doctrine of insurrection, sounded the tocsin of resistance, and summoned the people of the laud to battle against it as against usurpation f "In 1800, he absolves the subjects from their allegiance, if the usurpation styled the Union will be carried; and he, this identical agitator, in 1813, indicts a man, and calls him a ruffian, for speaking of the contrivers of the Union, not as usurpers, but as artful, treacherous men! Gentlemen, pity the situation in which he has placed himself ; and pray do not think 'of inflicting punishment upon my clieni for his extreme moderation. "It has been coarsely urged, and it will, I know, be urged in the splendid mis- representations with which the solicitor- general" (Bushe) " can so well distort the argument he is unable to meet — it will, I know, be urged by him that, having established the right to use this last paragraph, having proved that the pre- decessors of the duke were oppressors and murderers, and profligate and treacherous, the libel is only aggravated thereby, as the first paragraph compares and combines the Duke of ilichmond with the worst of his predecessors. ' • This is a most fallacious assertion ; and here it is that I could wish I had to addi-ess a dispassionate and an en- lightened jury. You are not — you know you are not — of the selection of my client. Had he the poor privilege of the sheep- stealer, there are at least ten of j^ou who never should have been on this jury. * * * How easily could I shew them that there is no comparision, no attempt at similitude. On the contrary, the object of THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL, 365 the writer is clearly to make a contrast, (irey murdered, but he was an able states- man. * * * So of Strafford: he was an eminent oppressor, but he was also eminently useful to his royal master. "As to the Duke of Richmond, the contrast is intended to be complete — he has neither great ciimes nor great virtues. He did not mur.».er, like Essex and Grey, but he did not render any splendid services. In short, his administration has been directly the reverse of these. It has been marked by erroi's, and not crimes. It has not displayed talents as they did, and it has no striking features as they had." He next maintains that the attorney- general feels the weakness of this part of his case, that " to inflame the passions and mislead the understandings " of the jury, he unwarrantably states that the alleged libel calls the Duke of Richmond a murderer. He also dwells on the fact that "the attorney-general talked with a gloating pleasure of the miseries poor Watty Cox endures in jail — miseries that seem to give poignancy and zest to the enjoyments of his prosecutor. I will make him happy; let him return from this court to his luxuries, and when he finds himself at his table, surrounded with every delicacy and every profusion, remember that this prisoner, Walter Cox, is starving. I envy him not this relish. * * * And next, the attorney-general makes a beautiful eulogium on Magna Charta. There we agree. I should, indeed, prefer seeing the principles of that great charter called into practical effect to hearing any palinode, however beautiful, said or sung on its merits. " The next topic of the attorney- general's triumphant abuse was the book entitled, The Statement of the Penal Laivs. He called it a convicted book. He exulted that the publisher" (^Mr. Hugh Fitzpatrick) " was in prison ; he traduced the author " (Counsellor Scully), " and he distorted and misrepresented the spii'it and meaning of that book. As to the publisher, he is, I admit, in prison. The attorney-general has had the pleasure of tearing a re- spectable citizen, of irreproachable cha- racter and conduct, from his wife and little children, who were rendered com- fort>tate - prosecutions, and especially the copious extracts from O'Connell's for- ensic efforts, which make up the present long one, go pretty far to supply materials for a complete refutation of the plausible and ingenious misrepresentations, regard- ino: the relation between England and * As the Magee ease was one of the most memor- alile of the Irish State-trials, the reader may feel some curiosity to have a list of the names of tlie judges and jury; also the names of the counsel on both sides. The judges were, the chief-justic.% Lord J^ownes, and Justices Day, Daly, and Osborne. The counsel for the Crown were, Attorney-General Saurin, fjolicitor-General Bushe, Sergeants Moore, Ball, and McMahon. The counsel for the defendant were, Messrs. O'Connell, Wallace, Hamilton, Finlay, and Charles Phillips, afterwards so famous for his some- what too ornate and high-flown eloquence. O'Connell's four colleagues, it may be observed, were Protestants. The Orange packed jury consisted of, Leland Crosth- waite, Tiiomas Andrews, Bladen Swiney, Kichard Palmer, Thomas itochfort, Alexander Montgomery, Martin Kcene, Benjamin Darley, William Watson, William Walsh, Kichard Cooke, and Edward Chb- borne. Ireland, woven by the cunning brain of that arch-sophist and outrageous enemy of the Irish race, James Anthony Froude. Indeed, I flatter myself that refutations of Froude's peculiar views may be found in many portions of this work.* CHAPTER XVII. Slow Progi'ess of the Cause of Emancipation- Napoleon's Approaching Downfall — England's Prosperity Ireland's Bane — lirattau's Bill and Canning's Clauses — Failure of the Bill — Its Ee- pudiation by the Majority of the Irish Catholic — Vote of thanks to the Irish Prelates — The Aristo- cratic Section of the Irish Catholics opposed to the Vote; Counsellor Bellew and hi.s Brother Sir Ed- ward — Corruption of the former — O'Connell " De- molishes" his Antagonists — Mi.sunderstanding be- tween O'Connell and Lord Fingal on the Subject of the Regent's Pledge — O'Connell Ridicules Lord Kenyon — Enthusiastic Reception of Dr. Miluer's Name at a Catholic Meeting in Dublin — The English Catholics generally in Favour of the Veto — O'Connell Champions the Cause of Caroline. Princess of Wales — His Noble Sentiments on the Subject of Repeal— He Lishes the Orangemen- Ludicrous Instance of English Calunmyagainst Ire- land— Profligacy of the Jury System— Address to Henry Grattan — O Conuell tries to got up a Move- ment for the Promotion of Irish Manufactures — Brings forward a Vote of Thanks to the Presby- terian Synod— His Spiritof Tolerance— Lord Wliit- worth Succeeds Richmond — Meetings and Dissen- sions in Cork— O'Connell Chaired— English Insults to Dr. Miluer — Death of Lieutenant O'Connell — More of the \'cto Question — Presentation of Plate Voted to O'Connell ; Mr. Finlay s Address— O'Con- nell Creates a Sensation by going to a Bible Meeti- ing — Baron Fletcher's Charge to the Grand-Jury of the County Wexford — Proposed Application for Sympathy to the Spanish Cortes — O'Conuell'.s Opinion of Maynooth— An American Privateer off Dublin — O'Connell's Gueat Professional Success — The Parson and the Girl who Sold the Curious Eggs. Having told the story of O'Connell's rise to forensic fame and political leadersliip at considerable length, having also given a profusion of specimens of his eloquence both at public meetings and at the bar, I shall condense the events of his life during several years following Magee's trial — in ' the course of which the Catholic cause, owing to many unfavourable circum- stances, made little progress — into a comparatively small compass. I shaU pass over with but slight notice many powerful speeches of O'Conuell, full of deep interest for the minute student of his biography and of Irish history, in ' The books from which I have chiefly drawn the materials of the foregoing chapter are— r//e Select Speeches of Daniel O'Connell, M. P., edited, with llistorical Notices, etc., by his Son, John O'Connell, Esq.; Ttie History of Ireland from the Treaty of Limerick to the Present Time, by John Mitchel; The Last Conquest of Ireland (perhaps), by John Mitchel; The Life and Times of Daniel U'ConneH, tcilh Sketches of Ids Contemporaries,' Duhiin, John MuUany, 1 Parlia- ment Street, etc. 390 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. ■which he displayed at least as much ability as he did ia most of those to which the reader's attention has been already called. As I proceed in my narrative, the causes of the slow progress of Catholic emancipation will be made manifest. Perhaps not the least of these was the reviving power of England. The imperial star of the great Napoleon was now fast falling from the heavens. He had lost in the year 1812 a mighty army amid the snows of Russia. In 1813 another splendid host, after the most brilliant efforts and tremendous victories, had been shattered and all but annihilated during the closing months of the campaign, especially in the gigantic struggle at Leipzig. Everywhere the French eagles were being driven back on old France. The old Castilian fierceness against invaders Avas in a blaze. ^Vlready the bones of near five hundi-ed thousand Frenchmen were whitening on th.e hills of Spain. In all quarters disaster was makmg dim the lustre of French renown. England was at the head of the victorious coalition of the uprisen powers of Europe. '• England's difficulty is always Ireland's opportunity." England's prosperity and glory are in- variably Ireland's ignominy and bane ! It is necessary, however, that I should first give a rapid review of several other events that filled the year 1813 besides the Stiitc-prosecutions noticed in the last chapter. Of these the most important was the introduction into Parliament of (^rattan's Relief BiU. It was a very im- perfect measure. Catholics, indeed, were to sit in Parliament, to possess corporate rights, and to be eligible for civil and military offices. Catholics, however, were not to be eligible for the offices of Lord- lieutenant or Lord-chancellor. But the bill was worse than imperfect — it was in • suiting to Catholics. As a secm-ity to the Protestants, the Catholics were to swallow a new comprehensive oath abjuring the alleged power of the Popes to depose or put to death monarchs abjuring obedience to his temponil power, the infaUibility of the Pope as an article of faith, and the principle that no faith should be kept with heretics. They were further to swear that they would support the Protestant suc- cession, and tlie existing state of property ; that they would discover all treasons within their cognizance ; that they would not attemiit to injure the State or over- throw the Protestant Church j tliat, unless they were convinced of his loyalty, they (laymen and clergy) would not nominate or elect any Catholic bishop or vicar apostolic. Put even this was not the worst. In addition to the security of the ©ath, certain clauses, suggested by Sir John Hippesley, that inveterate stickler for the veto, were proposed by Canning and Castlereagh. These are known as " the Canning clauses." Five commissioners were to constitute a board to examine into and certify to the loyalty of all candidates for bishoprics. The same commissioners, together with two Roman Catholic bishops, the Lord-chancellor, and one of the secretaries of State, were to exercise surveillance over all bulls or briefs received from Rome, with tlie proviso that they should not betray the secrets of the Catholic Church. When at last an amendment was proposed, striking out the clause that gave the Catholics the privilege of sitting and voting in Parliament, the bill was with- drawn, and finallj^ lost. (See, for fuller particidars, Grattau's speech, ]VLay 11, 1813.) ^Miile this bill was in progress, Grattan advocated it ^vith his usual power. But all his eloquence failed to recommend it to his countrjTnen. The Irish Catholics were thrown into the greatest commotion. Clergy and people, almost imanimously, rejected emancipation on such terms. The insidious " Canning clauses," the tendency of which was to subject the Catholic hierarchy and clergy to State control, kindled especial indignation. The aristocratic section, indeed, of the Irish Catholics were favourable to the bill. Lord Trunleston bewailed its loss. I may also observe that " the English Catholics " {to zcse the words of Mr. Mitchel), "not having any national in- terest at stake in the matter, were quite favourable to the project, and used theii' utmost endeavours to have it accepted at Rome, and recommended from thence. English influence was then very strong at Rome. The Pojae was a prisoner in France; and it was to the coalition of European sovereigns against Bonaparte that the court of Rome looked for its re-establishment." We shall presently see a strange effect of this English in- fluence, ileanwhile, the capti\aty of Pius the Seventh, apparently jjlacing him mider the control of the French emperor, , THE LIFE OF DANIEL O'CONNELL. 391 was used by the vetoists as an argument in favour of the concession of " securi- ties " to the British Government. While the bill was pending, various Catholic meetings took place in- Dublin, and 'various speeches were delivered by O'Connell, for the most part bearing reference to the bill, as being for the time the all-absorbing topic of interest. I shall briefly notice some of those meet- ings and harangues. On the 29th of May, 1813, our hero read in the ( 'atholic Board the unanimous repudiation by the Irish Catholic prelates of the proposed religious " securities." He then delivered a speech of considerable length, characterised by his usual power, in which he treated wth scorn the com- mission contemplated by the bill. He assumed that Peel, whom he nicknamed " Orange Peel," and called " a raw youth, squeezed out the workings of I know not what factory in England " (Peers father, old Sii' B.ol>ert, was a successful cotton- spinrcer), and sent over to Ireland " before he got rid of the foppery of perfumed handkerchiefs " — he assumed that Peel, Lord Manners, the chancellor, "the Duke of Richmond's privy-counsellor, the Eight Honourable Doctor Duigenan! * * * that religious bulldog particularly fitted for worrying Popish bishops," William Saurin, and Jack Giffard, would be the five commissioners. He ended by mov- ing a vote of thanks to the " Catholic prelates in L-eland for their ever-vigilant and zealous attention to the interests of the Catholic Church in Ireland." To this Anthony Strong Hussey moved, as an amendment, that the bishojss should simply be thanked for their communica- tion. That privately-pensioned aristocrat, the stiff and solemn Counsellor' Bellew, supported Hussey's motion in an able, but discreditable speech. His brother. Sir Edward Bellew, took the same side in a theological discourse. O'Connell replied. He said of BeUew's oration that "it was a speech of much talent and much labour and preparation." Quoth Bellew, " I spoke extempore." O'Con- nell retorts: — "We shall see whether this extempore effort of the learned gen- tleman will appear in the newspapers to-morrow in tlie precise words in which it was uttered this day." He next sets his audience laughing at Messrs. Hussey and Bagot. Tiie former, being of " an economical turn of mind," is " stingy and niggard " of praise ; the latter, Dan says, " told us tjuit he had made a speech but a fortnight ago which he did not understand, and he has now added an- other which is unintelligible ; * * * and, so * * * he concludes most logically that the bishops were wrong, and that he and Mr. Hussey are right." Sii- Edward Bcllew's " learned and lengthened distinction between essential and non-essential discipline " is now ridiculed. Presently he says, — " And now I address myself to the learned brother of the theological baronet." Counsellor Bellew, it appears, had asked attention because he so seldom addressed the audience. " It reminds me," says O'Connell, " of the prayer of the English officer before battle: — 'Great Lord,' said he, ' during the forty years I have lived I never troubled you before with a single prayer. I have, therefore, a right that you should grant me one re- quest, and do just as I desire, for this once ! ' " Af fer causing great laughter, O'Connell asks the assembly to listen to him unravelling "the spider-web" of Bellew's sophistry, on grounds different from that gentleman's claim — namely, because he (O^Connell) constantly " at- tended to the varying posture of their affairs." Mr. Bellew was one of the first Catho- lics called to the bar after the relaxation of the penal prohibition. His aristocratic birth and connexions gave him great advantages. At one time he had the lion's share of the Catholic business. He was six years receiving a secret pen- sion from Government before his cor- ruption became known. The English reformers got at tke list of private pen- sioners; among them O'Connell read the name of Bellew. From that moment O'Connell had only to say, " I thank God I am not a pensioner," in order to cover Bellew with confusion, silence his opposition, and set the audience against hnn. This was the more mortifying to Counsellor Bellew on account of his punctilious disposition. His favourite motto was, " Touch my honour, touch my eye." It is stated, however, that this did not prevent him from accepting an additional pension of £-!00 per annum — perhaps the reward of his vicious speech — shortly after the meeting I have just noticed. At a meeting of the Catholic Board 392 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. on the 29th of May, 1813, O'ConneU spoke at considerable length on the subject of the prince - regent's pledges with respect to Catholic emancipation. O'Connell asserted that he had heard Lord Fingal state, in Fitzpatrick's shop, that the regent had made him a verbal pledge in favour of emancipation, in presence of " Lord Clif den and the late Lord Petre ; " which Lord Fingal had imuiediately after committed to paper. O'Connell added that, when Lord Fingal had made this statement, '' there were three or four others present, one of whom was his " {O'ConnelVi,) " respected friend, ilajor Bryan," and that the state- ment •' could not have been intended for any secresy." O'Connell concluded by moving that the Earl of Fingal be re- quested to communicate to the Board the contents of the paper containing the prince's declaration. Major Bryan then bore testimony to the accuracy of O'Con- nell's statement. Sir Francis Goold, he said, Avas also present whefl Lord Fingal related the circumstance. Mr. Bagot ex- pressed au opinion that " T^ord Fingal would not consent to the request that was about to be made to him — nay, he had authority for avowing the fact. AVhy should he, then, be placed in an invidious and disagreeable position ? " Mr. Bagot also " deprecated a warfare with the first magistrate of these realms, v/ho could do service, and might do injury. Some gentlemen seemed to con- sider such a warfare useful to the cause of Ireland." O'Connell replied to Mr. Bagot. He shewed that, while the Catholics were full of " praises of the regent and full of their hopes from him, calling hhn their early friend, their best and proudest hope, it was then, even then, in the full tide of their warm affections, that they had been met by a State-prosecution. * * * It was then that the common police -justices were sent to arrest the noble earl at their head." It was long after this prosecution that " the ' un- worthy witchery' was mourned." Tlie prince's favourites, too, "the god- like Perceval " and Lord Yarmouth, were their enemies. O'ConneU then moved that the Earl of Donoughmore be re- quested to present their petition to the iiousc of Lords. He next criticised severely Grattan"s bill, a bill drawn up by three Protestant lawyers — Messrs. Wallace, Burton, and Burrowes; "not a single Catholic consulted upon it." He praised Grattau's " more than human " eloquence. Grattan was him- self incapable of deception, " but the very generosity and nobleness of his mind exposes him to the delujions of others." O'Connell protests strongly against the course pursued, and sneers at Canning as "a powerful framer of jests," and at Castlereagh, "thespeech- ing. man." The application made by the secretary of the Board to Lord Fingal, in conse- quence of O'Connell's motion, produced no good effect: incleed, it only caused unpleasantness — assertions on one side and denials on the other. Lord Fingal considered " that conversations between individuals, of whatever rank, were not fit subjects of public discussion. The pledge referred to was not in his posses- sion." In short, there was a deal of unprofitable " fendmg and proving" — O'Connell and Major Bryan on the one part. Lords Frugal and Chfden and Sir Francis Goold on the other. At this distance of time, the dispute is not, if it ever were, a matter of great interest; ytill less is it a matter of importance. On the loth of June, at an aggregate meeting in Fishamble Street Theatre, when O'Connell mentioned the name of Dr. Milner, the bishop of Castaballa, the journals of the day tell us he was in- terrupted by acclamations. Every voice greeted the distinguished English pre- late's name. Clapping of hands and beating of feet continued for several minutes, renewed at three successive intervals. The distinct resolution in Dr. fililner's favour, on account of his co- Oi^eration with the prelates of Ireland in opposing the ecclesiastical regulations of Grattan's bill, when moved at a later period of the proceedings, di-ew down thunders of applause. The whole as- sembly rose, as if moved by a single soul. The men uncovered and waved their hats; "the ladies, too, came for- ward, and by courtesies signified their participation in the general feeling." When the burst of enthusiasm at the first announcement of Dr. Milner's name had subsided, ' O'Connell spoke on the position of the Cathohc cause. He laughed the Relief Bill and the proposed " securities " to scorn, insisted that Grattan was " mistaken," gave exprea- THE LIFE OF DANIEL o'cSnNELL. 393 eion to the repugnance he felt towards Canning, who, he said, only affected to be their friend "because, since his con- duct to his colleague, Castleveagh, he has found it difficult to obtain a niche in any administration." Canning and Castlereagh had fought a duel, in which the former had been wounded. Of Cas- tlereagh, he asked, "Does not Grattan know that Lord C-astlereagh first dyed his country in blood, and then sold her? " Immediately after this he observed, " Ire- land, in the connection with England, has but too constantly shared the fate of the prodigal's dog — I mean no personal allusion" (a laugh) — "she has been kicked in the insolence o'f prosperity, and she has borne all the famine and distress of adversity." He next traces the history of the penal laws, after which he vigorously denounces "the Orange banditti," entering at large into their history, and pointing out "the horrors" of their system. Lord Kenyon and Lord Yarmouth he abuses as their patrons: "the first" he styles "an in- sane religionist of the AVelsh jumper sect. who. bounding in the air, imagines he can lay hold of a limb of the Deity, like Macbeth snatching at the air-drawn dagger of his fancy. He would be simply ridiculous but for the mischievous ma- lignity of his holy piety, which desires to convert Papists from their errors through the instrumentality of daggers of steel." Of IjOrd Yarmouth, O'Con- nell adds, " If 1 could, I would not dis- gust myself with the description." This speech, in which, as might be expected, he also lashes unsparingly the bigots — Nicholl, Scott, Duigenan, and Giffard — was greeted at its close with warm and general applause. At this meeting O'Connell rose to speak a second, and even a third and fourth time. In his second address he complains that the Board is £3,000 in debt, and proposes that a fund be raised, " to counteract the effects of Orange persecution and to meet the expenses of the petitions." It was to move the vote of thanks to Dr. Milner that he rose the third time. "That venerable prelate," said O'Connell, "lias been expelled by the paltry club calling itself the ' Catholic Board of England.'" He adds that, the very same day, " they thanked the master of the Flogging and Torturing Club in Dublin, my Lord Castlereagh." The resolution in honour of the Bishop of Castaballa was passed by acclamation. I liave already mentionetl. in the present work, that Dr. Milner was originally in favour of the veto, though subsequently he became one of its most vehement antagonists. This change of sentiment on his part Avon him little favour with the aristocratic section of the Irish Catho- lics. With the English (Catholics he became absolutely unpopular. These last, indeed, were, for the most part, all along favourable to the veto. It is even said that in 1791, in their anxiety to be speedily emancipated, they had enter- tained some design of making themselves independent of the Holy See, and styling themselves Catholic dissenters. Mr. Plowden, the Catholic historian, writes thus: — " The views of the Enghsh Catho- lics went far beyond those of the vetoists of Ireland — namely, to shake off their dependence upon the See of Rome, and establish national bishops not drawing their jurisdiction from the Christian primate ; and this in accordance with the Jansenistical doctrines of Utrecht, and in the manner of the reformed English bishops from the time of Henry VIII. downwards." At this meeting O'Connell also moved an address to the persecuted Caroline, the unhappy wife of the prince -regent. O'Connell made a warm speech in her favour To the end of her life he was one of her most strenuous defenders. On the present occasion he lashed himself into a perfect state of chivalrous excite- ment, and declared himself ready to take the field in behaK of her daughter, the Princess Charlotte, in case the Duke of York and the Orangemen should attempt to interfere with her right to the succes- sion. "I am against the duke," says Dan, "and for the princess." Again: "If they shall attempt to alter the succes- sion, I will fight against tlie traitors and for the young princess, at your head or by your side. " If this burst of knight-errantry should fail to provoke the reader to smile, at least he will not refuse the meed of laughter to the following sharp, but humorous, hit at the prince-regent and his antiquated charmer, the ^Marchioness of 1 1 ertford : — ' ' The fasliion of cutting the throats of wives is gone by. Henry the Eighth, the English apostle of the Refor- mation, had a speedy method of getting rid of a disagreeable wife. He it was 394 THE LfFE OF DANIEL O'COKNET, that first discovered the errors of the Church of Rome in the fair face of a young lady.* lu the present day, it is said that the crimes of the Catholics have been detected in the bloated visage of an ancient matron. The taste of Henry was more correct, but not more laudable." A slight passing notice is enough to devote to this passage of O'Connell's Ufe. Of course, it is quite outside the scope of this biogi'aphy to pronounce any opinion whatever as to the guilt or innocence of the unfortunate Princess of Wales. I may just remark that, even if she were guilty, the conduct of that worthless, faithless Sybarite, her husband, was so execrable as to deprive him of all title to public sympathy, and still leave the un- happy lady, of the two, the greater object of interest. On the 29th of June, 1813, O'ConHell made a long speech, chiefly on the subject of "the Repeal of the Union." Some of the sentiments to which he gave expres- sion on this occasion are worthy of record and remembrance. "Next," says he, "your enemies accuse me of a desire for the independence of Ireland. I admit the charge, and let them make tlwinost of it. I have seen Ireland a kingdom; I reproach mj^seK with having lived to be- hold her a province. Yes, I confess it — I vail ever be candid upon the subject — I have an ulterior object — the kepeal of THE Union, and the restoration to old iRELiVND OF HER INDEPENDENCE." Loud acclamations followed these words, which lasted for several minutes. Again he says: "I would sacrifice my existence to restore to Ireland her inde- pendent legislature; but I do not desire to restore precisely such a Parliament as she had before. No ; the act of restoration necessarily implies a refor- mation. * » * "Desiring as I do the repeal of the Union, I rejoice to see how our enemies promote that great object. Yes, they promote its inevitable success by their very hostility to Ireland; they delay the liberties of the Catholic, hut thc/j compensate US most amply, hccavse they advance the restoration of Ireland. By leaving one cause of agitation, they have created aud they will embody and give shape aud * The above passage reminds one of Gray the poet's gallant couplet ou Heuiy the Eighth and Anne Boleyu: — "When Love could teach a monarch to be wise. And gOBpei-iight first dawned from Boleyn's eyes." form to a public mind and a public spirit. * * * " I repeat it; the delay of emancipation I bear with j)leas)trc, because in that delay is included the only prospect of obtaining my great, my ultimate object — the legislative independence of my native land.'''' In this oration he again lashes the Orangemen. There is considerable cha- racteristic humour in the following on- slaught on Lord "Kenyon. This Lord Kenyon was the celebrated lawyer's son : — "To descend from the nation to an individual. Can anything be more beastly stupid than the conduct of Lord Kenyon, who is now organising Orange lodges? Why does not the animal see that the principle of religious exclusion might have prevented him from being a lord? that he has escaped into sineem-e places, property, and a peerage by the accident of his father's creed? For example: if his father, who was a common writing-clerk to an attorney — if he by accident had been a Papist, the present Lord Kenyon, in- stead of being a peer, would most pro- bably have been a private soldier or a peasant, or, at the utmost, by a timely conversion from the errors of Popery, he might have arrived at the dignity of being the fii'st preacher aud highest bouncer of some society of Welsh ' jumpers.' " (Laughter.) " Yes; my Lord Kenyon, if he had a particle of understanding, would feel tliat his Orange exertions expose the upstart only to the contempt of a people whom he may oppress, but of v/hom he would not dare personally to insult the lowest individual." The following gives a most amusing instance of the monstrous lies and calum- nies indulged in, at the expense of Ire- land, by the unprincipled and utterly unscrupulous press of England, especially — (though , am I right in saying especially? Have EngUsh journalists indeed learned to be one whit more veiacious in their dealings with Ireland at this hour? What of the Saturday Review, Times, Pall Mall Gazette, etc, etc.?) — especially, I was about to say, in the earlier portion of the present century: — " The No-Popery cry comnienced last year in the very centre of the cloth manu- factory. It commenced with the dealers in cloth at Pontefract, in Yorkshire; and I need only appeal to the Leeds news- paper for the absurd virulence with which persecution is advocated in that town. THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 395 "Why, in that very paper, I read about a fortnight ago an account of a fresh rebellion in Ireland — nay, in Dub- lin ! ! As none of you heard of it, let me inform you that it actually took place." (Loud laughter.) " I forget the day, but tliat is not material. It took place in Exchequer Street. The Nottingham regi- ment covered itself with glory! They fought the Popish rebels for two hours; the rebels ascended the houses, fired out of the windows, threw brickbrts and large stones from the roofs! Two regi- ments of horse, three regiments of foot, the Flying Artillery from Island Bridge, and the regiment of artillery from Chapel- izod, all shared in the honouf" of the day! and at length the. main body of the rebels retired to the Wic;klow mountains, and the residue went to bed in town. Fortunately no person was killed or wounded, and tranquilhty was restored by a miracle. "Do you imagine I jest with you? No , I solemnly assure you that the story is gravely told in the Leeds newspaper. Some of the London journals have copied it, even to the scrap of bad Latin with which Yorkshire dulness has adorned it; and there is not a maker of woollen cloth at Leeds that would not swear to the truth of every sentence, and every word of it!'' Does it not seem almost incredible that human impudence, or human stupidity, or bigoted credulity, or all combined, could have concocted such a monstrous fabrication? Of a surety, if truth be oftentimes stranger than fiction, fiction sometimes does outrun truth. O'C'onnell, tov/ards the close of this speech, gave some illustrations of "the profligacy that is induced by the present state of the law in the mode of selecting juries.'' He reminded his audience how Catholics were carefully excluded; how "envenomed bigots" were gathered to- gether " to pronounce a verdict of convic- tion by anticipation." lie proposes, that a second petition should be sent " to the legislature, to take into consideration the judicial system in Ireland — the adminis- tration of law amongst us." They must be prepared to prove, "in their details," the facts stated in their petitions; how all a certain bank- diretitor wanted from Goveniment was, "that when they should have a I'apist to try they should put him on the jmyl and he was put on a Papist's jury!" (here the audience cried "Shame!" and well they might); how a "Mr. AVarner was entitled, by the courtesy usually adopted by the" (Dublin) "corporation, to be sheriff;" how, because he would not pledge himself against the Catholics, when called on to do so by Jack GLffard, he was rejected; how Messrs. Morgan and Studdart were instantly appointed beca,use of their bitter liostility to Catho- lics. He laments that " Castlereagh, Dr. Black, and the rec/ium donum have con- verted the Presbyterians into Orange- men." If he ever spoke slightingly of Grattan, he is prepared "to- read his recantation." He adds, " Grattan, if he be mistaken, must ever be beloved by, and a pride to, every Irish heart." He concludes by moving a resolution respect- ing Irish manufactures, and also that for forwarding a second Catholic petition. On' the 10th of July he supports Mr Mahon in his objection to some letters of Sir Francis Goold and Mr. James O'Gorman, said to contain " attacks upon individuals," being publicly read. "A person in India," says Dan, " might thus assail " any gentleman. ' ' The individuals thus attacked would have no opportunity of righting themselves by inflicting that chast^ement which an unfounded and insolent letter might merit." This senti- ment was applauded. During the same month we find him making some speeches bearing reference to an address to Henry Grattan, brought forward by Mr. McDonnell. Of coiirse, O'ConneU, while disapproving of Grattan's biU, had the highest veneration for the illustrious pat'-iot himself. Accordingly, when the address vras so altered that, while being in the highest degree complimentary to Grattan, it could not be said to express the smallest approval of the " securities " of his " Uelief " bill, its adoption was eagerly seconded by O'Connell. The difference of opinion on the subject of this bill was now unhappily widening fast into an absolute breach between the aristocratic and popular sections of the Board. Those especiall}' who had taken a prominent part in opposing the vote of thanks to the Catholic bishops v/ere nursing their dudgeon, and sulkily keeping aloof from the meetings of the Board. In one cf his speeches on the address to Grattan, O'Connell said, " Let us, then, concur in the two leading features of this address — eternal gratitudl 396 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. to Grattan ; fidelity, unalterable fidelity, to our country." About the same time we find O'Connell bringing forward resolutions for the en- couragement of Irish manufactures: — " 1st. That no member be allowed to speak or -vote at the Board, after the 1st of August, who shall not be clothed in Irish manufacture. " 2d. That the ladies of Ireland be entreated to encourage the wear of their native manufacture, and not to introduce any other. "3d. That a committee of seven be appointed, for the purpose of calling upon the Protestant gentlemen of the country to form ' All association for the encourage- ment of consumption of Irish manufactures.^ " The resolutions were all received with loud applaiise ; they passed by acclamation. The following gentlemen Avere named the committee of seven — Mr. O'Connell, Mr. Eichard O'Gorman, Dr. Sheridan, E. Cox, Esq., Counsellor O'Gorman, Counsellor Finn, and E. O'Bryan, Esq. This movement, however, like many similar ones attempted since, in the end came to nothing. In truth, to attempt creating a system of Irish manufactures, while Ireland is under the hoof of Eng- land, seems to me, if I may use aji old, vulgar phrase, " like puttting the car before the horse." English capitalists can always, when it suits them, afford to combine and pour in goods for Little or nothing to crush Irish rivals. Such branches of manufactures, indeed, as dont interfere with the English manufactures, may possibly thrive more or less in Ire- land, even in her existing state. Yet I remember, some score of years ago, even a poor match manufactory in Dublin, which one might have imagined hai'dly worth interfering with, deliberately and pitilessly crushed by a combination of English competitors. Two or three boxes of English matches might for a time be had in Dublin for the " ridiculously small price" of one half-penny. As soon as ever the poor Irish "greenhorns" were " victimised," English matches rose again. In short, if the Irish people want to establish Irish manufactures on any large scale, let them first win their national independence. In this same month of July, O'Connell brought forward a motion that the Board should agree to a vote of thanks to " that very important body the" {Presbyterian) " Synod of Ulster, for the late vote of the members composing it in favour of I'eligi- ous liberty." The reporters of the Post and Freeman tell us that he prefaced his motion with a* speech characterised by " his wonted eloquence." His sentiments on this occasion, at all events, breathed his usual spirit of religious toleration. After noticing the bigoted efforts of some of the clergy of the Established Church, he uttered words to the following effect : — " He was willing to hope, notwithstanding- all that could be done, their efforts, and the efforts of those who set them in motion, would prove ineffectual, that every odious distinction would be obliterated, and that every man in this country would be ambitious for one title, and one title only — that of Irishman ! " Ijoud cheering responded to this sentiment. He concluded 'oy saying, " Union and harmony were the great healing balsams which he wished and hoped to see ap- plied to the wounds of his country." On the 27tJi of August, 1813, the Duke of Eichmond left Ireland. I need not say that he was little regretted. There is a vUlage called Eichmond, outside the city of Dublin, at the left side of Bally- bough Bridge. During Eichmond's vice- royalty the populace at public meetings, while waiting for the commencement, or ' during the iutervals, of the proceedings, were wont to amuse themselves by pro- posing " Three groans for the left side of Ballybough Bridge ! "' This masked insult to the unpopular viceroy would invariably elicit hearty explosions of laughter. Eich - mond was succeeded by an astute and wily diplomatist. Lord Whitworth. This nobleman was the English ambassador with whom Napoleon had a rather violent scene shortly before the rupture of the peace of Amiens. His aim, on becoming Lord-lieutenant of Ireland, was at least twofold — to corrupt the Dublin press and break up the Catholic Board. The first part of his task was not very difficult. The sum of £10,500 purchased the souls and — much more valuable to Whitworth — the pens of the proprietors of the Gazette^ Dublin Journal, Hibernian Journal, Patriot, and Correspondoit. Dui'iug Lord Whitworth's administration Government pamphleteers had "a good time of it "also. How " His Excellency" prospered in his machinations against the Catholic Board will be seen. Soon after he landed in Dublin, violent THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 397 dissensions broke out among the Catholics at a public meeting in Cork, on the oOth August, 1813. In the chapter on the trial of John Magee, I have already taken some notice of these disgraceful proceedings. Some of the members of the Cork Board were inclined to concede the veto to the Crown; others not. At this meeting, held on the 30th of August, at the Lan- casterian school, a gentleman — John Gal- Avay of Lota — who had voted, at the General Board in Dublin, in opposition to the motion of thanks to the prelates for their resistance to the reto^ was moved to the chair by JNIi-. James Roche, one of the opposite party, probably from motives of conciliation. But the general outcry arose against Mr. Galway. He persisted in keeping his place ; the mass of the meeting persisted in their refusal to accept him as chau-man. Some attempts were next ir^ade to appoint another chairaian. As these were unsuc- cessful, the confusion now became " worse confounded." Counsellor McDonnell, Mr. Roche, and other members of the Board considei'ed among themselves for some minutes, with the consent of the meeting, Mr. Roche promising, nmid loud cheers, that the reasonable wishes of the people should be complied with. Mr. Barry, of Barry's Lodge, one of tiie Board, then called out in a loud voice, " Will you suf- fer the proceedings of the day to go on?" Some voices from the crowd exclaim, "No; not until you have another chair- man." On this the board retire abruptly ; their secession excites violent agitation and disgust. Counsellor McDonnell en- treats the assembly to maintain order. While they are busy about the appoint- ment of another chairman ovir hero appears upon the troubled scene. He is greeted with acclamations and blessings — in a word, with an uncontrollable uproar of patriotic exultation — and conducted to . the chair. Presently, however — having talked the meeting into good-humour, and a desire for reunion — he goes out for the purpose of seeing the Board. Meanwhile, the heat and pressui'e in the room become insupportable. Besides, several thousands outside, who cannot get in, clamour for adjournment. Accordingly, by a unani- mous vote, the meeting adjourns to a large open plain, adjoining the school- room. Counsellor O'Leary now takes the chair ; order prevails. Several Protestant gentlmen being ob- served at a distance, a desire was expressed to accommodate them, when one of them, Counsellor Dennis, approached tlie chair, and explained, as "the mouthpiece" of the others, that while his friends and himself felt " warm and ardent" feelings of sjanpathy with " theglorious.and just" cause of the Catholics, they did not like identifying themselves Avith either sec- tion while lamentable divisions prevailed among the Catholic body. " No," said Mr. Dennis ; " those steady and long- tried friends to your cause — Stowell, Beamish, Crawford — will not attach them- selves to any party, but go with the unanimous voice of the Irish Catholics." After some further proceedings had taken place (Counsellor McDonnell had delivered a speech explanatory of some of the causes of mismiderstanding be- tween the two sections), O'Connell re- tiu'necl. Pie proposed, in the interests of harmony, that they should at cnc.^ send a depiitation of ten to the seceders to " commune witli them upon the present differences" This was agreed to, and the Board received the deputation in a bed -chamber, whither they had retired from the hootings of the populace. After two hours' delay, O'Connell returned. He said: "There had been an unanimous agreement come to on resolutions per- fectly without qualification of any kind, and unequivocally demanding ' Simple Repeal,' as it was phrased — that is, the unconditional abrogation of the penal code." He announced also that " the Board, obedient to the manifestations of popular feeling that day witnessed, would now consider their office at an end;" but would offer themselves " for re-elec- tion as members of a board " to consist of sixty-eight members, double the num- ber of the last. Pie, in conclusion, begged them to forgive the repentant members of the Board, and admit Mr. Galway to pre- side over the meeting. "Will you refuse forgiveness to persons repenting their errors?" "No," responded the crowd, now in a most amiable mood, "we forgive them, and may heaven forgive them ! " Dan thanked the assembly with great effusion ; he compared Galway to the prodigal child. While O'Connell was still speaking, the seceders made their appearance. Mr. Galway at once addressed the meeting, congratulating them on theii- prospects of unanimity. P'welve resolutions had been agreed to by all. " Any beyond 398 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. that number should be dealt with as mere individual suggestions open to dis- cussion and opposition." The resolutions were then read. It was proposed to add the names of over thirty gentlemen to the existing Board (we find the name of O'Connell's uncle, " old Hunting-cap," among the number). Most of the reso- lutious were unopposed; but when three, which contained expressions of gratitude and glowing thanks to the Kiglit Rev. Dr. Milner, John Magee, and Daniel O'Connell, were brought forward, a Mr. B. IMoylan advanced to propose an amend- ment. This is the part of the proceedings to which I referred toward the close of the chapter about Magee's trial, Moylan accused Dr. Milner of '-tergiversation," called Mr. Magee " a convicted libeller," and expressed disapproval, of O'Con- nell's "public conduct." One Eugene McSweeuy, of Mary Street, Cork, played the pitiful part of his seconder. After a generous remonstrance from Mr Dennis, the Protestant barrister already noticed, against Moylan's appli- cation of such unworthy epithets to ^Ir. Magee, coupled with an appeal to the audience to " feel as Ii-ishmen should feel, to love in their hearts the hero who gloriously falls in a great public cause," O'Coimell came forward. He warmly de- fended Dr. Milner, who, it may here be mentioned, on more than one occasion, in the course of this year, 1813, had been grossly insulted by the leading EngUsh Catholics on account of his successful opposition to the veto and to Grattan's Relief Bill. They had disavowed his writings in his presence, had resolved that his Brief Memorial had their marked disapproval. To mortify him further, they had passed a vote of thanks to their literaiy ciuimpion, Charles Butler, when Dr. Milner had told them that that gen- tleman was one of " the false brethren " alluded to in this production. They had even gone so far as to expel him " from the private Board or select committee, appointed by the general Board of British Catholics." Against this he had protested, " as having acted," to quote the closing words of his protest, "in bebalf of thirty bishops and of more than five millions of Catholics, whose religious business I am authorised to transact." Sir John Hippesly is said to have been guilty on this occasion of an atrocious insult to the learned and venerable prelate. Indeed, the conduct of the aristocratic Englishmen present had resembled nothing so mucli as that of an uncouth and sliameless mob. They had pursued the old man as, with calm dignity, he was retiring from the room, with outrageous hissings, and hoot- ings, and shoutings. Well might Dr. Husenbeth, the biographer of Dr. Milner, exclaim — "A more disgraceful proceed- ing is hardly to be found in the history of the Church Probably Dr. Slimer's sympathy and co-operation with O'Con- nell, whom he greatly admired, and the Irish Catholics, had added bitterness to the hostile feelings of his Catholic country- men. After their cowardly achievement, they had gone about London for several days, boasting with an insane exultation of the ignoble deed they had done. I pass over other insults perpetrated against Dr. jSIjlner by the English Catho- lics, of a. piece with the strange conduct I have just described, and return to O'ConneU's speech. AiiQX defending Dr. Milner and heaping scorn on his enemies, after sneering at those "erudite politi- cians" — those "modest, meek, humble, and enlightened independents," " those two youths," Moylan and McSweeny, who, when " the population of Ireland declare against all vetoism, under all and every shape and form," come forward "for ;)roi'zV/ona^ securities" — ^lie next expresses his hot indignation at Moylan's applica- tion of t^ie epithet " convicted libeller " to John Magee. He tells the audience to sustain and cheer that persecuted jour- nalist by a vote of thanks. In conclusion, he says — " I will go on, and the more I am maligned, the more will I be pleased, and hope for the prospect of success; nor v/ill I ever doubt myself, until I shall hear those wretched liu'elings of corrup- tion teem forth odious praises to me! Then doubt me, but not till then. " Externally and internally I wiU fight the enemies of us all. * * * But adopt not this exaggerated praise oflfered to me here to-day; it is not possible I could, or any man could, be deserving of it. I give up this point to Mr. Moylan ; I make JMr. Moylan a present of this motion, and let him give us the rest." (Loud and persistent cries of •' No, no ; we will not, we will not!") " Then, beforehand, I thank you- — sin- cerely and honestly I thank you ; it en- courages, it cheers me on. I here want language to express my feelings. / will THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 399 stand hy yon trhile I live ; I will never for- sake poor Inland." When the enthusiastic acclamations that almost drowned O'Connell's closing -words had, after the lapse of some minutes, ceased, James Roche seconded O'Connell's protest against Moylan's amendment. Major Torrens, a liberal and enlightened Protestant, then made some excellent observations. He derided the notions of those who pretended that dfingers would result from the admission of Catholics to Parliament. He dwelt on the fact that English liberty had grown up during the Catholic ages. After Major Torrens had concluded, no less a person than Remmy Sheehan, subsequently a -convert to "the Church by law estab- lished," and proprietor and editor of the Dnhlin Evening Mail., for so many years the able but bigoted organ of the Ascen- dency faction (I believe it exists still), came forward. Perhaps this was his first ap- pearance on the stage of politics. He proclaimed himself " a member of that body Avhich Counsellor O'Conuell styled ' independent, because nobody would de- pend upon them.' " He then said he was aware of O'Connell's authority — "the unfounded assertions of the Mercantile Chronicle." At this point, he and his audience beginning to get on bad terms, he told them he wouldn't be put down till morning. "I say again, the unfounded assertions of the Chronicle." As this brought down on his devoted head an uproar of popular rage and clamour, he told his hearers that " he was a very young man," and that " he never before addressed a public meeting." He then repeated that the ' ' statements in the Chronicle about the independents were unfounded and slanderous." Here a downright tempest of hooting, hissing, and disapprobation of all sorts burst upon the unlucky oratorical debutant. His grim resolution not to "go home till morning" speedily evaporated: he ingloriously cut short his harangue, merely saying, "As the meeting will not suffer me to speak, I shall retire." Exit Remmy — at least for a season. I may as well add, however, that, some years ago, Remmy departed this life, if not in the odour of sanctity, at least, Uke many another renegade before and probably since, in the bosom of the ancient Chux'ch he had deserted "for filthy lucre." Coimsellor McDonnell and James N. Mahon also addressed the meeting. After the latter gentleman, another remarkable m;in in his day. very unlike the redoubt- able Remigius, however, arose to speak — the Rev. Dr. England, subsequently Ron)an Catholic bishop of Charleston, South Carolina. He denied indignantly some charges of exercising undue influ- ence over the people and packing meet- ings, that had been made against the clergy of Cork, and himself especially. Fagau, in his Life of O'ConncU, asserts " that the principal mover in the whole of this democratic insurrection against aristocratic pretension in Cork was the celebrated Dr. England. He was a man of great powers of mind, amazing intellectual energy, possessing, too, a mascidine eloquence, and a stern, unflinching detei'mination, well suited to a popular leader. He had all the quali- ties that contribute to the influence, and are necessary to the office, of an agitator. No literary labour was too great for him ^ no opposition was too powerful. He was from the first a decided anti-vetoist. In- deed, we may affirm, he was the guiding genius of the anti-Quarantotti move- ment" (we shall hear more of Monsignor Quarantotii shortly). " He was, at the time we write of, editor of the Cork Mercantile Chronicle, an honest, well-con- ducted paper, the downfall of which is a lasting stigma on the patriotism of tlie South. He worked up the movement against the local Catholic Board, and at last forced the members to publish their proceedings. * * * It was the prevailing opinion of the day that Dr. England was the oauthor of the celebrated letter which, under the signature of ' One of the Populace,' w^as pubUshed in the Evening Post, and for which an action was brought against the unfortunate John Magee by one of the ' Protesters,' ISIr. Coppinger. The action was tried in Cork, and is to this day memorable in that city, from the cutting sarcasms agamst the ' property-the-standard-of- opinion' gentlemen, uttered by Magee's counsel in one of tue most telhng speeches ever pronounced in a court of justice. The writer was a boy &!■ the time, but he well recollects being h'- the trial ; and he has now in his mind's eye Harry Deane Grady, amidst the profoundest silence, giving expression to those biting sen- tences that arc, even to this day, repeated by the descendants of that generation." 400 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNKLL. I shall presently refer to the letter here spoken of. which John O'Connell, differ- ing from Fagan, attributes to his illustri- ous father. Reverting for a moment to the meeting of the 30th of August, when the speaking terminated. Moylan's amend- ment to Counsellor McDonnell's three resolutions was put, with the following result, according to the calculations of the newspapers of the day: — For the amend- ment, 0; for the votes of thanks to the Right Rev. Dr. Milner, John Magee, and O'Connell, 10,000. JNIajority indisput- able. After this, nothing would satisfy the excited assemblage but to chair our hero. A crowd of gentlemen got round him, and, in spite of his entreaties and resist- ance, forced him into a chair. He was borne, amid the loudest and most en- thusiastic huzzas, on the shoulders of his devoted people, through Hanover Street, j)art of South Main Street, along Tuckey Street, and into the grand parade. By this time the crowd had swelled, it is said, to be about twenty thousand people. The whole city was aroused. The crowd halted at Laffan the hatter's, on the parade, where O'Connell lodged. From a window of the house he warmly thanked the adnnring thousands, recommending them to attend carefully to the registra- tions. From all this hubbub the extent of the discord created by the angrilj^- vexed veto question may be estimated. Nor did the dissensions speedily cease. The clergy were abused by the vetoists. They pub- lished a reply. A large number of veto- ists signed a protest against the meeting of the 30th of August. They held a meeting, too, at the Bush Tavern, and passed a resolution, which was, as it were, a regular firebrand in the then Acited state of Irish feeling: — "Resolved, that adopting the wise principle of the consti- tution by which property is made the standard of opinion, we found it impos- sible at the late aggregate meeting, amidst the tumult of the lowest populace — ignorant by necessity, and misled by design — to ascertain the sense of the Catholics of this city and county." O'Connell delivered another speech at the Cork Catholic Board on the 3rd of September, in which he expressed regret at the conduct of " the Protesters." He shewed how they were earning contempt and putting themselves in the position of men " fighting against their country." He hoped, however, that the seceders would return to their duty. He also advocated the use of Irish manufactures. With reference to this part of his speech, his son John remarks justly enough: — " This was one of the many occasicuis in Mr. O'Connell's life, when he laboured in the good cause of the deserving, hard- working, and most skilful artisans of Ire- land. We shall have, unfortunately, to note the failure of several such efforts — as all such must fail, till the vitality of industry be restored witli the money and rich consumei's of the country, by the repeal of the emaciating Act of Union." I shall quote one passage from this speech of the 3rd of September. " ' But,' say those who clamour for those securities, ' if the present Pope died, Bonaparte would undoubtedly raise to the papal chair his uncle. Cardinal Fesch.' Be it so. He was willing to meet them upon every fair ground. iPhey say, if (Cardinal Fesch was the Pope, he would be the creature of Bonaparte, and subject to his control; and having the nomination of the Catholic bishops of Ireland, he would only appoint such men to that dignity as would be disaffected to the British Government, and who would best suit the views of Bonapavte. "Cardinal Fesch! who is in disgrace with his nephew;, and in exile because he opposed, and would not sanction, his marriage with his present wife!'''' O'Connell denied that such a man would "disgrace the papal chair by sub- mitting to the will" of his nephew. How far the intrigues of the diplomatic viceroy. Lord Whitworth, contributed to all this commotion, it is not easj^ to say. He seems at first to have so far succeeded in throwing dust even into the eyes of the conductors of the Evening Post, as to induce them, shortly after his accession to the viceregal dignity, to compliment him on his reply to an address from Trinity College. However, the Post, directed by Denis Scully, in the main fought the battle of truth and right in those days. On the :?ord of September, a respectable meeting, lield at Cavan, passed a.vote of thanks to Magee and O'Connell. Eneas McDonnell, earlier in the same month, had written to Dr. Milner, trans- mitting to him the resolutions passed in his favour by the Catholics of Cork. To this the venerable prelate had returned a THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 401 gracious reply, in whicli he gave some interesting and enrious particulars of the disgraceful insolence with which the aris- tocratic Catholifs of England — ay, and even some members of the English Ca- tholic clergy — had treated him. But the unfortunate Magee, however he may have been gratified and comforted in his sore trials by the sympathy and approval of his countrymen, was still harassed by prosecutions. The extract I have given from Fagan refers to the action taken against him by Mr. William Coppinger for a letter signed " One of the Populace," and .attributed by some to Dr. England, by others to our hero. As the letter is amusing (it ridicules Coppinger and the resolution passed by the '• Pi'otesters," affirming that the con- stitution makes property '■^tlie standard of opinion''''), I shall give a few extracts from it. " They state two things evidently false : — First, that there is a principle in the constitution by which property is made the standard of opinion. Property is a good standard of contractors ; but it is no more the standard of opinion than it is the standard of law or of Latin. « * * Why, whom do you think those men that; declared that pro- perty is the standard of opinion took as their second chairman? A friend of mine, poor as I am. Mr. William Cop- pinger, better known by the name of • J amaica ! ' I was quite sure, sir, that they picked out the second richest man amongst them as the standard of their opinion, and as their second chairman. \'ou cannot think how pleased I was. Now, thought I, the five pounds he owes me these three years will be paid. Off I ran to his assignees — for, sir, I was kept out of my. honest earnings by his being made a bankrupt^ — off I ran to his assignees. ' Gentlemen,' said I, 'pay the five pounds that Mr. Coppinger owes me. He has got some great estate — he has certainly got a great pro- perty. "Property is the standard of opmion." Here it is down in the news- papers, signed " ^Villiam Coppinger." JNly debt is a fair debt, and honestly due — and so pay it.' You may judge of my surprise when the assignees quietly rephed that my debt was cer- tainly a fair one, and that if I went to the expense of employing an attorney and moving it regularly, they would pay me a dividend as well as the other creditors. 1 asked what the dividend would be. Tlie assignees solemnly assured me they expected in another year to be able to make a dividend of two-pence in the pound, and that I should certainly get a tenpenny bit for my five pounds. But to return. They" (^the ])rotesters) "say, secondly, that we are the lowest of the populace — • ignorant by necessity, and misled by design.' How could you say such a thing, Dan Donovan — you, who are a miller? What were you, my dear Dan? You were also, in your day, a liberty-and-equality boy; and this is not the doctrine you jsreached to us at the mill. Indeed, indeed, Dan, it does not become you to be an aristo- crat. To be sure, no great reliance can be placed on the accuracy of men who have belied the constitution; for, I be- lieve, there was never anything so untrue as to say that the constitution measures a man's opinion by the weight of his purse. Was there ever anything so silly printed? Why, if it Avere true, no rich man could be in point of fact a block- head — ^there could be no wealthy fool! or, I suppose a rich man who talked foolishly might be indicted before the recorder for violating a principle of the constitution. ' Your property, sir,' the recorder would say to the convicted dunce, 'your pro- perty is made the standard of opinion, and you have, in contempt of the wisdom which belongs to property, been con- victed of having talked nonsense; and, therefore, you are to be imprisoned six months at hard labour, to teach you the great principle of our constitution — that property is the standard of opinion.' Dear Mr. Magee, I should like to see some of our ' protesters ' tried at sessions under this statute. It is called, I believe, the statute for adjusting the standard of opinion by the exact amount of the wealth of each individual." During the autumn of this year, various other Catholic meetings were held in Ireland, at which resolutions, approving of O'Connell's opposition to the veto, and his conduct at tiie trial of Magee, were passed. At the successful storming of St. Sebas- tian, in Spain, on the 31st of August, O'Connell lost a near relative — the brave Lieutenant John O'Connell, of the 43d Regiment. At the siege of Badajos, this gallant young man had volunteered on 402 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. the forlorn hope and been severely- wounded. At St. Sebastian, lie sought the post of danger, where he fell, com- bating bravely. Jn November, we find the veto question still sowing dissensions among the popu- lar party. Doubtless some of those who first threw down this apple of discord intended mischief. Burke understood well the machinations of the enemies of the Irish people. "You will have a schism," says he, " and I am greatly mis- taken if this is not intended and system- atically pursued." The Board, alai'med at the progress which this veto or ' ' secu- rities" qiiestion seemed to have made in England, and the apparent acquiescence in it of the English Catholics, had pledged themselves not to entertain any question of the kind without the previous know- ledge and approbation of the prelates. Lord Donoughmore and Grattan refused to continue in communication with the Catholic Board on this basis, that no "securities" should be introduced into any future bill without previous approval of the bishops. They accused the Board of a design of dictating to Parliament. On the 20th of jSTovember, O'Connell maintained that Lord Donoughmore and Grattan were mistaken. He denied that "the Board had any desire to dictate. So far from that being the case, they had even given up the intention of submitting a draft of a bill (thougli that, he argued, would not involve any dictation), con- fining themselves to mere suggestions. "Who," he asked, "spoke of dictation when Mr. Charles Butler, last year, pre- pared the frame of a bill? * * « Who spoke of dictation when ]\Ir. Grattan pro- cured the'frame of a bill to be prepared by Mr. Burrowes, by Mr. Burton and Mr. Wallace ? " O'Connell also asks, "whether it be the Irish popish touch that pollutes the deed?" On the 27th, O'Connell carried a motion "for a committee to prepare answers to the letters of Donoughmore and Grattan." On the 1st of December we find his friends in the Board rallying round him affectionately to defend him against the numerous attacks made on him at this time by the open enemies and the weak or false friends of Ireland. Mr. O'Gorman brought the matter forvrard, and spoke of his " transcendent desert." Nicholas Mahon agreed with JNIr. O'Gor- man; he thought it Avas the duty of the Catholics to repel the attacks upon O'Connell " by some lasting memorial, which he could hand down to his latest posterity." He also styled O'Connell " the best and dearest friend of his country." Mr. Plunket considered that every Catholic was bound to support the undaunted, incorruptible, and inflexible supporter of the Catholic cause. Though not a member of the Board, he came that day to declare his determination to sup- port him at the hazard of his hfe and fortune. O'Connell was the first of Irishmen, and the most beloved. It would be wonderful were it otherwise. He had laboured to exjiose, at the risk of his person and fortune, the errors and corruptions of the enemies of ■ Ireland. He had created an unconquerable spirit in the country. His object had been to rally men of all persuasions, parties and habits under one title, that of Irishmen. The Board, he (Mr. Plunket) thought, should manifest by a resolution their conviction of his merits. J.Ir. O'Connor (the chairman) regretted that it should be deemed necessary to delay such a measure. I\Ir. Scully dwelt on O'Connell's clairqs to the gratitude of Ireland, and the failure of all malignant efforts to injure him in his j"?rofession. O'Connell did more busiuess than any lawyer without a sUk gown had ever before succeeded in doing; yet he found more time than almost any other man to devote to the public good and for acts of private benevolence. Of course Mr. Scully approved of the notice respecting the testimonial of the feeling of the Board to him. Mr. Scully referred to the alleged secession of the aristocratic members of the Board, and, at con- siderable length, drew a picture of the disagreeable position in which the in- dividuals who were said to have seceded must, according to his idea, find them- selves placed. O'Connell replied to these kind and flattering speeches with wann and grate- ful emotion : — "When first he had volun- teered as the advocate of his country's rights, he did conceive that he had embarked in the service of an insolvent ingratitude." This was a mistake; his reward had been great, though "all he would lay claim to was good intention." He thanked Mr. Plunket for his kind words ; but, "in any personal controversy, he required neither aid nor seconding. THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 403 * * * If his professional career were stopped by any conspiracy, he should not be astonished at it." He spoke of his enemies in his usual defiant style. On the 11th of December, at the Shakespeare Gallery, Exchequer Street, the Board voted a service of plate, value one thousand guineas, to O'Connell, " as a small tribute of gratitude " for his intrepidity, ability, and perseverance in asserting the rights and vindicating the "character of his Catholic fellow-coun- trymen." Viscount Netterville, the Lord Ffrench, N. P. O'Gorman, Owen O'Con- nor (the chairman of the Meeting), George Bryan, Henry Edmoud Taafe, Nicholas Mahon, and Kandal McDonnell, Esqs. (Edward Hay was secretary to the meet- ing), were appointed as a committee to cany the vote into effect. The service of plate was shortly after presented to O'Connell. At this meeting of the 11th, liis friend, Counsellor Finlay, de- livered an address, which, while it con- tained an eloquent panegyric on our hero, reflected severely on Saurin. I regret that the limited space remaining at my disposal will not suifer me to give of it more than the concluding sentence: — "But if he, like many others, should be fated to endure the ingratitude of the country, if he should be placed in the midst of useless friends and implacable enemies, if his enemies should gratify their purposes against him, — " ' Tlim is the stately column broke, The beacon-light is quencihed in smoke, Tbe trumpet's silver sound is still, The warder silent on the hill.'" I think it only fair to add the remark which the late John O'Connell thought proper to append to this : — "This passage, with its poetic quotation, was cited last in the declining days of the Repeal Association, some months after Daniel O'Connell's death, by poor, poor ' Tom Steele ! ' The effect was then most thrilling; what the effect would be if now cited in a popular assemblj^, and whether the prediction it embodies would be held to have come true, it is not for the editor of these speeches to say." It will be seen, from this extract, that John O'Connell's sentences cannot be praised as admirable models either of style or grammatical structure. On the 18th of December, O'Connell eloquently thanked the Board for the new proof they had given him of th eir apprecia- tion of his zeal and services. Among other things he said: "Even your applaikse will not, because it cannot, increase the dovotion with which I have consecrated my existence to Ireland. I have already devoted all the faculties of my soul to the pursuit of the liberties of my country, and, humble as my capabilities are, I had already given them all to my native land." Their ' gift is too munificent; stUl he is " glad that it was introduced, because it elicited those proofs of. friend- ship; and I am gra,teful to my enemies, who gave occasion for an exhibition of the feeling which is this day witnessed here. * * * The man who dedicates himself to the cause of his country must calculate on meeting the hostility and calumny of her enemies — the envy and false-heartedness even of her friends. He must reckon on the hatred and active malignity of every idolater of bigotry, of every minion of power, of every agent of corruption. But that is little: he will have to encounter the hollow and treacherous support of pretended friends — of those interested friends respecting whom he will in vain exclaim, ' God protect me from my friends ! I can guard myself from my enemies.' * * * ." You have, then, done wisely to grant that precious recompense to one so little deserving as myself, because you have thereby held out a prospect to higher minds of what they may expect from you. You have fanned the flame of pure patriotism, and I trust enlisted in your service the juvenile patriots of the land, with talents superior — oh! beyond comparison — to my pretensions." (^Here O'Connell turned to Richard Lalor Sliiel, then quite a young man, who sat near him.') " And he and others will be roused to serve and adorn their widowed country. Of your traducer (^Saurin, no doubt) " I sliall say nothing." You have refuted his calumnies. * * * " I have heretofore loved my country for herself— 1 am now her bribed servant, and no master can possihb/ tempt me to neglect, forsake, or betray her interests! " I think it right to quote his son's remark on this sentence. " Forty years " («s ivell as I remember, John O'Connell wrote this in '53 or '64) — "Forty years have elapsed since this protestation; ' nearly seven since the death of him who made it. Let Ireland now calmly review 404 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. his life and acts, and say, Did he not keep his word?" At this meeting of the IStli. letters from Grattan and Lord Donoughniore, in reply to tlie address of the Board, were read. If the tone of the writers was still somewhat captious and supercilious, it was so far lowered that they expressed willingness to receive, as suggestions, the statement of Catholic opinion which they had before condemned as dictation. The consideration of these letters was postponed. It is melancholy to find our Irish bard, Thomas Moore, so far seduced by the fascmations of the English aris- tocratic circles in which he spent so much of his time, as to employ his bril- liant pen, about this period, in advocating the concession of the right of the veto to the Crown. In spite of the veil thrown over the attack, we can see that he hits at O'Connell and Scully in such expres- sions as the following: — -'Those orators and authors who live but by flattering your prejudices," and '-This is the mea- sure which the wrong-headed politicians amongst you, m contempt of their spiritual guides, have branded as impious, deadly, and apostatical." He labours hard to prove that the concession of the veto is hardly worth disputing about, and opposition to it frivolous or even foolish. About this period O'Connell under- took a very amusing and Quixotic ad- ventiu-e. The Kildare Street Society of Dublin, founded in the year 1811, was in the receipt of an annual parliamentary grant of £6,000 j^er annum for the educa- tion of the poor. The society, however, insisted that the Bible should be read in all the schools aided by them. Of course, the ('atholics refused to countenance or comply with this regulation. Thus the facilities for acquiring education were grievously diminished in the case of the poorer Catholics. Some persons pro- tested against this usurpation by the bigots of the right to make Catholic education to a great degree impracticable, A few enhghtened Protestants expressed their dislike of the proselytising system of the society, and vainly sought its abolition. O'Connell conceived the rather chimerical idea of boldty entering into one of their queer assemblages, of braving in their den the various tribes «ji fanatics — Cooperites and others — in short, the dense array of saints, male i"(iid feniide, sure to be " gathered to- gether" under the evangelical banner of this Kildare Street Society — and giving them, in his customary outspoken style, a piece of his mind. His brain had not long been big with this generous idea, ere he set about putting it in practice. In short, he coolly entered the hostile camp alone, and commenced arguing the point with the astonished saints. With great tact and skill, he went over the usual topics of argument advanced by Catholic theologians against the reading of the Scriptures, especialty without properly authorised notes and comments, by the young and the ignorant. Were the minds of such persons in a fit con- dition to understand the perplexing doctrinal difficulties of St. Paul, or to read and interpret aright the bewildering visions of futurity and the profound and awful obscurities of the mysterious Apo- calypse ? Were the glowing pictures and narratives of vice, side by side with divine truths, suited alike for every eye and ear? No doubt, he asked his strange auditory questions somewhat to this effect. It is not surprising that, while he was thus addressing these holy ones of the New Jerusalem, they would, from time to time, shew considerable tendency to become restive. However, the more cultured members of this assembly of the saints, the pious Sergeant Lefroy and others (this Lefroy aftenvards became successively Baron of the Exchequer and Lord chief-justice of the Queen'' s Bench; he was '■'■the purple old Brunswicler '''' ivho passed sentence on John Mitchel), begged that a patient hearing should be given to Mr. O'Connell. But before long, our whimsical Daniel went such extreme lengths as to utterly wear out the patience of the saints. He told them they had no right, in the exercise of the trust com- mitted to their charge, to gratify their peculiar whims and crotchets by making indiscriminate Bible-reading the condi- tion of their help to schools. He even told them plainly to their faces that, in making Scripture - reading compulsory, " proselytism must be their object.'' No sooner had he shot forth this bitter shaft, than the reign of Babel seemed to have recommenced. The light of theological anuiiosity gleamed in the eyes of the saints, male and female. They roared, they raved, they gesticulated, they hissed. Even angelic sisters — not to speak irre- verently — wore for some minutes the THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 405 expression of very she-devils. There was Miss Saurin, the pious attorney- general's sister, hio^h in the hierarcliy of female divines and devotees, brimful of sacred wrath. The faces of the crowd shewed all the colours of the rainbow. Divine fury made them red and pale by turns. Some of the atrabilious sectaries displayed on their severe, if not sour physiognomies, varieties of black and yellow that viujht^ indeed, be a somewhat agreeable sight to an eccentric connoisseur in colours. At last, the sanctimonious Ijcfroy got up, like the serious character to whom Virgil compares Neptune stilling the turbulent winds, and the rising of " this pillar of State," and Church too, at once restored silence. The learned sergeant speedily lashed himself into an exhilarating condition of holy fervour; he ^even worked his spirit up to a pitch of prophetic exaltation, quite sufficient to take the legs from mider his audience (he had no need to beguile their brains from them), in his advocacy of universal Bible-reading. Before he sat down he had doubtless in his mind's eye a clear and near vision of the rapidly-approaching downfall of Popery, the burning up of the mystic Babylon and Antichrist, the man of sin on the one hand, and on the other, of the streaming glories of the holy of holies prepared for the reception of the saints. It is to be presumed that the learned and pious sergeant's divine rhapsody caused the aspect of the meet- ing to become once more as amiable- iookmg as the nature of saints — especially nineteenth-century saints — admitted of. As O'Connell, however, returned to the charge a second time, quite fresh and as full as ever of controversial combative- ness, their equanimity was short-lived. He dwelt on the infinite hubbub and confusion of contending sects, all appeal- ing to Holy Writ as the standard by which they regulated their opinions. Even in the days of the apostles. Chris- tians were to be found " wresting the Scriptures to their destruction." He ad- duced the enormities that took place during the revolt of the Anabaptists of Munster, in Germany, in the sixteenth century. He asked, would it be rational to get up a society to diffuse among ignorant people cheap editions of Blackstone and Coke, in order to promote respect and obedience to the laws? These books would either remain unread or be read to a pernicious purpose. He maintai)ied that such a result was still more likely to happen in the case of the Bible. As might be expected, the saints now became more frantic than ever, and finally shouted O'Connell down. It does not appear that any practical result flowed from this most eccentric adventure of O'Connell's, which, undoubtedly, was conceived and executed in a truly Cervan- tic spirit. As I am on the subject of the saints, I may as well here quote an amusing re- solution, said to have been innocently passed, about this time, by one of these pious societies: — '•' Ilesolved^ tliat to pre- vent misrepresentation, all the important objects of the society were in future to be carried into effect by a committee, to consist of twelve gentlemen, and as many ladies, with lihertij to increase their numbers.'''' " jMajor Muskerry," a talented literary contributor to Mr. Mitchel's New York Citizen, in the agreeable short biography of O'Connell which he wrote for that journal, and from which I have quoted already, thus notices this odd exploit of our hero's: — " At another time, he went alone to a meeting of the Kildare Street Society, and argued the matter stoutly, but very good-humoredly, against the men and women there assembled. He actually fancied they could be touched by a show of kindly feeling and modera- tion. None but a nature innately frank and generous could have made such a Quixotic attempt — for he found how (Quixotic it was when they began to hiss him." While O'Connell was at Limerick, in the August of this year, he became one of the principals in a curious affair of honour. While professionally engaged in the county court-house of the city, a dispute arose between him and Coun- sellor Magrath. It grew very hot, and finally they exchanged cards. The place of rendezvous was a field quite close to the old windmill, as famous in Limerick for such meetings as " the Fifteen Acres" was in Dublin. NichoLis Purcell O Gor- man acted as O'Couuell's friend on this occasion. A Mr. Bennett performed the same kind office for Magrath. After alighting from the carriages, the parties arranged themselves in separate groups, waiting, while jMr. Bennett was perform- ing his allotted task of measuring the ground. At last, O'Connell and Magrath were placed, and only waited for the 406 THE LllrtS OF DANIEL O'CONNELL. word of command to fire. Just at this point in the proceedings, a number of their mutual friends arrived on the field of battle, fully determined on interfering to prevent the encounter. A lengthened conversation took place between the seconds and the new-comers. It was proposed that Magrath, standing on his ground, pistol in hand, should state aloud that he was sorry the altercation had taken place. Before this was exactly agreed to, a Mr. Leader begged that, inasmuch as it was notorious that O'Con- nell had no bad feeling whatever towards Magrath, he, too, standing on his ground, "marking-iron" in hand, should declare that he was going to figlit with a man for whom he felt no ill-will. A long pause followed this proposal ; but finally, after much animated conversation and argu- ment between friends and seconds, and after earnest entreaties from the well- wishers of both parties, Nicholas Purcell O'Gorman was brought to agree to the arrangement. Then the principals once more stepped forward and resumed their places, still holdmg the loaded weapons in their hands. JMagrath, elevating his voice, declared manfully that he regretted the occurrence of the quarrel. Our hero, in a similar loud tone, atfii'med that he entertained no unfriendly feeling towards his antagonist. Advancing together, the two opponents met, and warmly shook hands, amidst the joyful shouts of all the spectators. The two immediately got into the same carriage, and chatted to- gether in a pleasant, friendly manner as they drove into "the city of the viola,ted treaty." As both gentlemen were extra- ordinary favourites with those who knew them (everybody, of course, knew Dan), a great interest and anxiety were felt in Limerick wliile the unpleasant afPair was pending, and congratulations the most sincere were expressed at its pacific and hearty tei'mination. I regret very much that want of space will prevent me from giving here ex- tracts at any length from an extraordinary and public-spirited charge, delivered by Baron Fletcher, an Irish judge of ex- ceptional integrity, and good-will towards the poor oppressed peasantry, to the grand-jury of the county Wexford, in this year, 1813. This charge astonished everybody. Doubtless, its bold and honest truths frightened the Irish Dead- locks from their propriety, and caused the wi'ong-doers of the Ascendency fac- tion to howl and gnash their teeth in vicious and vindictive wrath. It is a discourse that every student of Irish his- tory should read. All parts of it are deeply interesting — some perfectly appli- cable to the Irish abuses and grievances of the present hour. He begins by scouting the wicked reports of imaginary conspiracies got up to injure the people ; he then denounces the Orange society, expressing disapproval of the Ribbonmen also. He goes deeply into the evils of the land system — the tenures -at-will, the ruinous competition. He shews that the wretched tenant had no interest in mak- ing improvements, inasmuch as he can reap no benefit from them. He asks : — " What, then, is the wretched peasant to do? Chased from the spot where he had first drawn his breath, where he j?ad first seen the light of heaven, incapable- of procuring any other means of existence, vexed with those exactions I have enu- merated, and harassed by the payment of tithes, can we be surprised that a peasant of unenlightened mind, of un- educated habits, should rush upon the perpetration of crimes followed by the punishment of the rope and the gibbet? "Nothing, as the peasantry imagine, remains for tliem, thus harassed and thus destitute, but with strong hand to deter the stranger from intruding upon their farms, and to extort from the weakness and terror of their landlords (from whose gratitude or good-feelings they had failed to win it) a kind of preference for their ancient tenantry." One passage like this gives more real insight into the causes of Ireland's misery, the true case of Ire- land before the world, and the just re- quirements of Ireland, than all the tomes of vicious and unscrupulous sophistry a Froude could write in a lifetime. Baron Fletcher next touches on the jury laws. He points out the system of fraud and peculation that prevailed owing to the abuse of the county presentment code. Even in the present day grand- juries are in some instances chiefly in the hands of the Ascendency faction. After speaking of other deep-rooted causes of immorality, he dwells at con- siderable length on the evils of absen- teeism. In the course of these observa- tions he notices the ignorance of the English about Irish affairs. lie says that they, " generally speaking, know THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. 407 about as much of the Trisli as they do of the Hindoos." An English traveller is "handed about" among those who have " an interest in concealing from him the true state of the country; he passes from squire to squire, * * * all busy in pouring falsehood into his ears touching the disturbed state of the country and the vicious habits of the people." He returns to England " vrith his prejudices doubled," "in a kind of moral despair of the welfare of such a wicked race, having made up his mind that nothing ought to be done for this lawless, degraded country." The judge adds, he would not wonder to see a revival of " the obselete ignorance and prejudices of a Harrington, who, in his Oceana, calls the people of Ireland a imtamable race, declaring that they ought to be exterminated and the country colon- ised by Jews." Thus would the com- merce of England be extended. He expatiates on the neglect of the tenantry. In England landlords rebuild the dilapi- dated cottages of their tenantry. Nothing is done for the rack-rented, pauperised Irish tenant-at-will. What interest, then, has he in making improvements? How ■could he make them ? The good judge exposes fearlessly the jobbing system throughout the country, and the abuse of law and justice by the Ascendency magistracy. Speaking of the mischiefs flowing from their misconduct, he says, " One is occasioned by an ex- cessive eagerness to crowd the jails with prisoners, and to swell the calendars with crimes." Among the irregularities pre- vailing, he notices unjust fines and vague committals. One remedy required for Ireland is " the equal and impartial ad- ministration of justice." With respect to the jfersonnel of the magistracy, he says : — " The needy adventurer, the hunter for preferment, the intemperate zealot, the trader in false loyalty, tke jobbers of absentees, — if any of these various denominations of individuals are now to be found, their names should be expunged from the commission" of the peace. Good parsons, liberal to their Catholic neighbours, feeding them Avhen hungry and clothing them when naked, he thinks would be "splendid acquisi- tioiis to the magistracy." But parsons of another class, who, " perusing the Old Testament with more attention than the New, and, admiring the glories of Joshua the son of Nun, fancied they perceived in the Catholics the Canaanites of old. and, at the head of militia and armed yeomanry, wislied to conquer from them the promised glebe " — such men should not be suffc^red to " remain in the com- mission." The whole of this remarkable charge is worthy of attentive study by any one who desires to gain a thorough knowledge of some of the chief grievances of the peasantry in the days of O'Connelh IMuch of it is applicable to the present hour. I may as well, in the present chapter, give a curious resolution in favour of an appeal by the Catholics of Ireland to the Cortes of Spain, which Nicholas FurceU O'Gorman moved in the Board on the 29th of June, 1813. Both he and O'Con- nell said that precedents in abundance might be found " to sanction such a proceeding." Here is the resolution: — " Resolved^ that it be an instruction to the Catholic Board to consider of the constitutional fitness and propriety of sending an earnest and pressing memorial to the Spanish Cortes, stating to them the enslaved and depressed state of their fellow Catholics in Ireland with respect to their exclusion, on the score of religion, from the benefits of the British constitution, and imploring their favourable inter- cession with their ally, our most gracious sovereign." Against this appeal to Spain, the royal Duke of Sussex, who, though a son of George the Third, was a sup- porter of the Catholic cause, strongly objected. O'Connell argued against his objections. At the same time, nothing ever came of O'Gorman's resolution. In the same month the London Courier assailed the Board, complaining that, instead of confining its attention to the question of emancipation, it took cognisance of every other public event of importance, and withdrew the confidence of the people from their Parliamentary representatives to itself — " a body unknown to the con- stitution." I sliould have mentioned, when speaking of Grattan's bill, that Ur. Troy, the Catliolic archbishop of Dublin, described the inc[uisitorial commission of five lay lords which that bill proposed to establish as "a kind of lay eldership unknown to our Church Government." O'Connell much about the same time spoke shghtingly of the royal college of Maynooth ; he points out " the silence of Irish genius which has been remarked ^:0S THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. within " that Catholic college that nestles under the wing of the British Govern- ment. He explains.it thus: — "The incubus of jealous and rival intolerance sits upon its walls, and genius, taste, and talent fly from the sad dormitory where sleeps the spirit of dulness." He adds : — " The bigot may rule in Trinity College, biit still there is no conflicting principle of hostile jealousy in its rulers ; and, therefore, Irish genius is not smothered there as in Maynooth." In iSlo several atrocities were per- petrated by the Orangemen. In the city of Armagh, on the 12th of July, a band of Orange linen-weavers were guilty of a sliameful deed of vandalism. The venerable cross of St. Patrick, curiously sculptured with prelates and canonised virgins of the olden times, and other in- teresting figures, was attacked and hurled to the earth by these wretched barbarians. The ■ pedestal was blown up with gun- pov^der, and the shaft of this relic of antiquity, which had stood iu the market- place of Armagh for seven hundred years, was converted into a trough for swine. I7i the same month a party of the same banditti were carousing in a tavern in Belfast. Suddenly they heard the crash- ing of glass in front of the house. \J]}- starting, these savage revellers rushed into the street and fired at random. Three victims fell : one, named Hugh Graham, shot dead on the spot, a second mortally wounded, a third wounded in the thigh. This last had his leg ampu- tated. The Orangemen were tried and acquitted ; some Catholics, however, were convicted and punished. In Dublin, too, the animosity between the Orangemen and the Catholics dis- played itself. On the 12th of July, in the morning, the Orangemen decorated Avith gaudy flags and ribbons the statue of King William in College Green, parad- ing round it with shouts and discharges of fire-arms, at the same time placing shamrocks, as the emblem of the national party, under the hoof of the sculptured war-horse. In the evening the Catholics had their turn. They pelted the statue with mud and filth, till its aspect, grim and foul, became utterly oifensive to the sight of the passers by. O'Connell spoke frequently against the Orangemen this year. On the 31st of December he made a motion on the subject of illegal societies. An address was prepared by the Board, cautioning the people against such organi- sations. In his speech on this occasion, O'Connell enumerates the different illegal societies that had arisen in Ireland : — " ' White Boys ' and ' Right Boys,' ' Car- avats ' and • Shanavests,' ' Threashers ' and ' Carders,' ' Hearts of Steel,' ' Peep- o'-day Boys,' ' Defenders,' ' Orangemen ' and ' Ribbonmen,' and, above and dif- ferent from all ' United Irishmen.' " The "cause and character" of the first six " were to be traced to the oppressions of tithe-jobbers and land-jobbers." Of the remainder, with the exception of " the United Irishmen," he says, "the cause and character were easily discerned in religious animosity and rancour." .-Vs to the United Irishmen, they tried " to embrace all sects ; '" and among them were " men who, however mistaken, may be admitted, now that the storm has long since ceased, to have been actuated by pure though erroneous love for Ireland." In this speech he strenuously denounces the Orangemen, whom he accuses of having originally meditated the complete extermination of the Catholics, and of whose history, ceremonies, and fanati- cism he gives some curious particulars; but, while he shcAvs a natiiral hostility to this ferocious body, he also strongly discourages the secret organisation which had risen in oppcsition to them — the well-known society of Ribbonmen. This year the second wiir between America and England was raging. The American brig "Argus" was capturing numbei*s of English merchantmen in the Channel, even striking terror into the citi- zens of Dublin. At last, off Tuscar Rock, she encountered the "Pelican," a British man-of-war. After a desperate fight for forty - five minutes, maintained against overwhelming odds, the "Argus" struck her flag. Her captain's leg was carried off by a cannon-ball. His oflicers and crew suffered severely. This occurrence may have recalled to O'Connell's mind the incident of his childhood, when he saw the deserters from Paul Jones' vessel. Meanwhile O'Connell's professional career was successful beyond example. In the autumn a.ssizes of ISlo, at Limerick, O'Connell had a brief in every one of twenty-six cases that were tried in the record court, and a brief also in every case on the criminal side. At Tralee and Ennis he was equally successful. We have already seen him politically triumph- THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 409 cUit in Cork this year, where the opposi- tiun between the two "wings," so to vSpeak, of the Catliolic party ran higher than in any otlier locality. Fagan tells us til at tlie local Catholic Board there " consisted of the Catholic aristocracy and merchants of the city and neighbour- hood, Its proceedings were neither open to the public nor the jiress. The people were not admitted, and the Board, as a matter of course, was very genteel and very unpopular." O'Connell revolution- ised all this. But his pi-ofessional triumphs in ''the beautiful city" were even still more splendid. His brief-bag was plethoric beyond that of any other " gentleman of the long robe." The great "counsellor" was an object of interest to curious gazers, and saluted with popular acclaim wherever he ap- peared. To anticipate a little, his son John, speaking, in his second volume, of the year 1817, has the following passage: — " We have not alluded to Mr. O'Con- nell's pi'ofessional career as yet in this volume, as no reports, except of the most meagre and scanty description, are to be found of his bar speeches during the interval it embraces. His advance in the profession was great, and his income, term after term, and circuit after cir- cuit, greatly increasing, with a rapidity entirely unprecedented. Unfortunately, however, for this work, the reports of many and many a powerful law argument, and many an effective address to jiu"ies, are so meagre and imperfect, that it would be only a waste of the reader's time to give them in the present collection. Such of his forensic efforts, however, as have been recorded with any appearance of accuracy or due care, will, as heretofore, be found in our pages." John O'Connell fulfills this promise by giving only two additional '-forensic efforts" in his uu- linished and every way unsatisfactory collection of his father's speeches. I sliaU close this chapter with a slight notice of an odd case, in which oui' hero appeared as the champion of a poor girl against a well-to-do oppressor. On the 2oth of May, 1813, he moved, in the Court of Common Pleas, for a conditional order against the Rev. WilUam Hamilton for illegal and oppressive conduct asa magis- trate of the county of Tipperary. " The facts of the case," said he, addressing the judges, --are really curious, and would be merely ludicrous but for the sufferings inflicted on my client. The affidavits stated that a peasant girl, named Hen- nessey, had a hen which laid — not golden eggs — but eggs strangely marked with red lines and figures. She, on tlie 21st April, 181o, brought her hen and eggs to the town of Roscrea, near which she lived, and of which the defendant was the Protestant curate. It appeared by the result that she brought her eggs to a bad market, though at first she had some reason to think diiferently ; for the curi- osity excited by those eggs atti'acted some attention to the owner — and as she was the child of parents who were miser- ably poor, her wardrobe was in such a state that she might ahnost literally be said to be clothed in nakedness. My lords, a small subscription to buy her a petticoat was suggested by the person who makes the present affidavit, himself a working _ weaver of the town, James Murphy— and the sum of fifteen shillings was speedily collected. It was a little fortune to the poor creature — she kissed her hen, thanked her benefactors, and with a light heart started on her return home. But (///*• aider visum (to the gods it seemed otherwise fitting'). At the moment, two constables arrived with a wari'ant signed by the Reverend William Hamilton. This warrant charged her with the strange offence of a foid imposition. It would appear as if it were issued in some wretched jest, arising from the sound, not the sense. But it proved no joke to the girl, for she was arrested. Her hen, her eggs, and her fifteen shillings were taken into custody, and carried before his wor- ship. He was not at leisure to try the case that di^y. The girl was committed to Bridewell, where she lay a close pris- oner for twenty -four hours, when his reverend worship was pleased to dispose of the matter. Without the mockery of any trial, he proceeded at once to sen- tence. He sentenced the girl to perpetual banishment from Roscrea. He sent her out of the town guarded by three con- stables, and with positive injunctions never to set foot in it ag.ain. He decapi- tated her hen with his own sacred hands. He broke the eggs, and confiscated the fifteen shillings. When the girl returned to her home — the fowl dead, the eggs broken, and the fifteen shillings in his reverence's pocket — one would suppose justice quite satisfied. But no, his wor- ship discovered that Murphy had col- 4-10 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. lected the offending money ; he was therefore to be punished. lie was, in- deed, first tried — but under what law think you? Why, literally, my lords, under the statute of good manners. Yes, under that Act, Avherever it is to be found, was Murphy tried, convicted, and sen- tenced. He was committed to Bridewell, where he lay for three days. The com- mittal states ' that he Avas charged on oath with having assisted in a foul im- position on public credulitj- — contrary to good manners.' These are the words of the committal; and he was ordered to be detained until he should give security — ' for his good behaviour.' Such is the ridiculous warrant on which an humble man has been deprived of his liberty for three days. Such are the details given of the vexatious proceedings of the reverend magistrate. It was to be hoped that those details would turn out to be imaginary; but tliey are sworn to — positively sworn to, and require investigation — the more especially as motives of a highly culpable nature were attributed — he (Mr. O'Con- nell) hoped untruly attributed — to the gentleman. He was charged on oath with having been actuated by. malice toward this wretched girl because she was a Catholic. It was sworn that his object was to establish some charge of supersti- tion against her, upon no better ground than this, that one of those eggs had a mark on it nearly resembling a cross." The court grantsd the rule applied for; but Parson Hamilton, shamed by this terrible exposure, managed to compro- mise the ugly business privately, making compensation to the poor girl whom he had so grossly injured. This was not the only odd exploit by which this eccentric parson distinguished himself. On the 17th of August, 1841. our hero, retm-ning to Dublin from a repeal meeting at Drogheda, as usual, beguiled the weariness of the way with pleasant conversation, He told some diverting stories of queer parsons to his friend Mr. Daunt. " He laughed heartily," that gentleman, in his Per- sonal Recollections of 0''Connell, in- forms us, " at the detection of the Rev. Mr. Crampton in the act of throwing stones at his own windows — the reverend gentleman having complained of attacks upon his house, and procured the attend- ance of a party of police to protect him from the aggressions of the Popish con- spirators. Two of the police who were placed on this duty, detected IMr. Cramp- ton at night throwing stones at the windows. The reverend gentleman's ex- planation was, tha.t he did so in order to test the vigilance of his guard. But if he had not been caught in the fact, we probably should never have heard a single word of this ' ingenious device.' " After laughing over the Rev. ^Iv. Crampton's exploit, which may be looked on as a sort of human counterpart of some of the sly tricks of " Reynard the Fox," in the old medifeval fable of that name, O'Connell told Mr. Daunt a still more cimning and far-fetched eontvivrLUce of that edifying parson and precious justice of the peace, the thrice reverend hen-decapitating Hamilton. "These par- sons," quoth our hero, " occasionally do very curious thmgs. Several years ago, a parson at Roscrea, named Hamilton, dressed up a figure to rej^resent himself, and seated it at table, with a pair of candles before it, and a Bible, which the pseudo-parson seemed to be intently studying. He then stole out, and fired through the window at the figure. It was a famous case of Popish atrocity — a pious and exemplary clergyman, studying the sacred AVord of God. brutally fu-ed at by a Popish assassin ! He tried to get a man named Egan convicted of the crime ; but having tlie temerity to appear as a witness himself, it came out, upon cross- examination, that the reverend divine was entitled to the sole and undivided glory of the transaction." Mr. O'Neill Daunt refers his readers to another amusing work of his — Ireland ami her Aijitators — to which this bio- graphy has also been indebted, for full details of this singular transaction, which, he says, were furnished to him by a mem- ber of the Egan family. It was in the same conversation about comical parsons that O'Connell told ^Mr. Dauflt the story, already given in this biography, of the action taken by a Miss Fitzgerald agauist a Parson Hawkesworth for breach of promise of marriage.* * The books from which I have drawn the ma- terials of the loregoicg chapter are — Fajran's Life of O'Cojineflj O Neill IJauiit s I'ersoiial Recotlec ions of O'Connell'; John Mite els Ilislury of Irdaud; Lire and Times of D'iniel O Connell, etc., Dublin, John Mul- lany, 1 Parliament Street; The Select peeclies of Duniel. U'Connell, M.F., edited, with Ifisloi-ical Notices, etc, by his son John Connell, Esq. ; Graltan's /Speeches; Life of the Right Rtv. John Aiilner, D.D., by Dr. HusenbutU ; Plowden. CH1GW£LL CONVEN1 WOODFORD y^ THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. 411 CHAPTER XVIII. Chequered Fortunes of O'Connell and the Catholic Cause in 181:!— Catholic Meetings throughout Ire- land—Bitterness and Fui-y of the Cxoverninent Press afrainst O'Connell— O'Connell's dauntless and de- fiant bearing in the teeth of adverse circumstances — Ludicrous Anecdote of a Tailor — Presentation of a splendid Silver Cup. to O'Connell by the Manufacturers of the Dablin Liberties — Fallen Condition of the Liberties — The Kuin of the Catholic Board commences with Aristocratic Secession— The Breach between Henry Grattan and O'Connell grows wider— Government Reporters at Catliolic Meetings— The '-Knoekloftiness " of the Earl of Donoughmore's Letter — Connell Eouts a " Packed " Meeting of Seceders ; Ludicrous Consternation of the Aristocrats at OConnell's Sudden Apparition amons them— The Famous Kesrriptof Quarantotti— Dismay and Subsequent Indignation and High Spirit of the Catholics — Bold Attitude of O'Connell and the Clergy and People — — The Pope Disavows Quarantotti — Unpleasant Affair of Major Bryan— A Stage-struck Agitator- Strange Characters and Queer Duels — The Vote of Censure on Dr. Dromgoole— Lord Whitworth Suppresses the Catholic Board by Proclamation — Noble Conduct of John Philpot Cm-ran. This year. 1813, the events of ■n'^liich we have been relating, -was a very chequered one for O'Connell and the Catholic cause. We see him, as it advances, at one mo- ment the defiant orator, the triumphant idol of the people; at another moment furiously assailed by the rancorours pens of a venal and thoroughly unprincipled press — the Dublin Jou7~nal, the London Courier, the Correspondent, the Hibernian Journal (this -vvas one of the most -virulent and pertinacious of his assailants), and the Patriot (called so on the lucus a von bicendo principle), all yelling, as it 'were, at him and the Board, in full chorus. Already he begins to be, what- he later in life so often styled himself, " the best abused man in the world.'' These papers encouraged the Catholic aristocracy in their unworthy secession from the Ca- tholic Board, caused chiefly by the mis- chievous veto controversy. O'Connell is called a fool, is accused of delaying eman- cipation by his opposition to the "secu- rities," is accused of setting the whole Protestant interest in array against the Catholic cause. Old supporters appear to be falling off, or becoming lukewarm ; the breach between him and the illustrious Grattan becomes wider; Lord Donough- more, too, grows cold — is inclined to advise a policy of inaction. O'Connell is described in a burlesque style by the Hibernian Journal as "Poor O'Connell * * * tijjg Catholic hero '* * * this Irish chieftain * * * lectured by th e attorney - general ; " " blub b ering ; ' ' " shedding tears in the most Jlaghooloughly ludicrous abundance." The Board, too, is at one time spread- ing its influence, by the exertions of O'Con- nell and his able and eloquent associates — Scully, Finlay, Charles Philips, and others — over counties where it had little influence before ; at another weakened by aristocratic secession and menaced with dissolution by the Government. Such was the chequered history of O'Connell and the Irish Catholic Board through the year 1813 ; and it must be admitted that the outlook at the commencement of 1814 was gloomy enough. In short, the ne-w year advanced without any smile of pro- mise to their cause. O'Connell, however, was not a man to be daunted. He had faith in the good- ness of his cause ; in his friends, who, as we have seen, had generously rallied around him to sustain him with their sympathy and approval ; but, above all,* he had strong faith in himself. He knew that he had within him the energy and power soonei- or later to compel v ictory to do his bidding, as Ariel obeyed Pros- pero. His spu-it remained proud and Iiigh; his bearing was still defiant and aggressive. No doubt his enemies deemed all this insolent and provoking to a degree ; but what could they do, poor devils? Chafe as they might, they had finally to " grin and bear it.''' The brilliant Shiel, in his animated sketch of O'Connell, tells us : " The admirers of King William have no mercy for a man who, in his seditious moods, is so provoking "as to tell the world that their idol was ' a Dutch ad- venturer.' Then his intolerable success in a profession where many a staunch Protestant is condemned to starve; and his fashionable house in Merrion Square ; and, a greater eye-sore still, his dashing revolutionary equipage, green carriage, green liveries, and turbulent Popish steeds prancing over a Protestant pavement, to the terror of Protestant passengers — these, and other provocations of equal publicity, have exposed this learned culprit to the deep detestation of a numerous class of His Majesty's hating subjects in Ireland;, and the feeling is duly communicated to the public: the loyal press of Dublin teems with the most astounding imputa- tions upon his character and motives." Mr. Mitch el remarks amusingly on this : " The provocation of the ' Popish horses prancing over a Protestant pavemenf was 412 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. more serious than it may now appear, for the pavement was strictly Protestant, and so were the street-lamps. No Catholic, though he miofht drive a coach-and-four, conld be admitted upon any paving or lighting board in that sacred strong- hold of the Ascendency, the corporation of Dublin." Mr. Mitchel appends an amusing story as an illustrative note to this passage: — -'It was at the height of the Catholic agitation that a town-coun- cillor, who was a tailor, said, at a corpora- tion dinner : ' ]My lord, these Papists may get their emancipation, they may sit in Parliament, they may preside upon the bench, a Papist may become Lord-chan- cellor or privy-counsellor, but never, mevc.r shall one of them set foot in the ancient and loyal Guild of Tailors.' " One of those instances of a people's love and appreciation, which are like gleams of warm sunshine amid the gloom and trials that more or less frown across the path of every man who devotes him- self to an arduous struggle in vindica- tion of the rights of a down-trodden people, occurred to cheer O'Connell amid the somewhat discouraging events that heralded in the year 1814. On the 14th of the January of that year, the manu- facturers of the Liberty of the city of Dublin presented a handsome silver cup, the cunning workmanship of one MuUan of College Green, to our hero. On the obverse was an appropriate inscription ; on the reverse were grouped a harp and broken cham, a scroll and a pen, a book and a lamp, a caduceus and a scale of justice, also a shield emblazoned with the armorial bearings of O'Connell. O'Con- nel received the deputation from the manufacturers iu his study. His two boys, Maurice and Morgan, stood beside him, and shook hands -with the Dublin artisans. The address to our hero, signed J. Talbot and ( '. Dowdal, speaking of the gift and givers. conta,ined these 'and other words : " It is but the widow's mite ; yet they (the givers) hope not less acceptable, as it overflows with their affections." They wished him long life also. O'Con- nell replied Avith grateful warmth ; he told them that their country was "widowed, too," that the independence of '82 gave Ireland manufactures and freedom ; that independence alone could revive both. ■' -^^y gratitude to the manufacturers," said he, " will be best evinced, if I can awake the people of Ireland to hope for a repeal of the Union f^ We learn from his son that, in addition to what he said in his more formal reply, '-he declared, in allusion to their subsisting custom of toast-giving, that no toast should ever be drunk out of it save ' the Repeal of the Union.'' " John O'Connell adds truly enough, in his clumsy, long-winded style, that •' It is a melancholy thing to reflect upon, that, low and poverty-stricken as was the condition of that extensive dis- trict, entitled 'The Liberty' of Dublin city, it has long since fallen much lower, and, indeed, declined into utter ruin. The time is many a year ago gone by Avhen such a presentation could be repeated as that which we record; and 'The Liberty,' which, during the Irish Parliament, Avas the focus of active and most remiinerative manufacturing employment of various descriptions, is now, and has for a long time been, known only as the focus of the last and uttermost wretchedness and helpless destitution." The secession of the aristocracy, some- what before this period, was the com- mencement of the ruin of the Catholic Board. This secession was chiefly occa- sioned by the misunderstandings on the vexatious question of the veto. Lords Fingal and Trimleston, and other aristo- cratic Catholics, were eager supporters of Grattan's bill. They shared in the indig- nation which that great Irishman felt at the opposition which O'Connell and his followers gave to "the securities" in every shape and form. Grattan and Lord Donoughmore being on bad terms with the Board, the breach between the two sections of the Catholic party was sure to grow still wider. On the 8th of January, on the motion of O'Connell, the letters of Lord Donoughmore and Mr. Grattan, already referred to, were read. They did not contribute to the production of a better feeling. O'Connell made a nervous speech, in which he expressed something very like indignation at both letters. He was especially sore about that of Grattan. " What securities did he (Grattan) ever speak of in the Irish Pai'liaViient '? "" O'Connell manfully denied that the Ca- tholics had any natural "inferiority" to their Protestant countrymen. At the close of this meeting, the eccentric Barney Coile pointed out to O'Connell a person, apart from the other reporters^ taking notes of the proceedings. All eyes were speedily turned in the direction of THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 413 the stranger, who admitted that he Avas employed by the police authorities, and said "that he acted solely by the com- mand of his superiors, and sincerely hoped he should not be held to have thereby forfeited the regard of others." O'Connell said, " That was all perfectly fair," and promised to have at the next meeting a desk or table large enough to acconnno- date as many as the police should think fit to send. On this conduct of our hero his son thus observes: " Thirty or forty times at least, during the course of his agitation, similar occasions ha,ve arisen for similar steps *on his part^— greatly to the disappointment and discomfiture of the authorities, he shewed such readiness to oblige." Sometimes Englishmen, who would be sent over to watch the proceed- ings of the Catholics, Avould arrive in Ireland with the full couAdction that they were doomed never to escape alive out of that turbulent land of cut-throats; they Avould surely be assassinated by some members of the terrible confederacy, over which the lightest word of the arch-rebel O'Connell was law. Gradually they would come to see that it was possible for an Englishman to preserve a whole skin in Ireland ; and if they had a more than usual share of candour, they would finally confess that they had been fools. It was in this year, 1814, that O'ConneU delivered that speech in which he made the amusing use of ^sop's fable of the wolves and sheep) to overthrow Counsellor Stephen WouKe's able argument in favour of the veto, that I have already referred to in Chapter the Twelfth. Mr. Daunt says (I think rightly) that this incident occurred at a- meeting at Limerick; John O'Connell states that it took place at Clare. Be this as it may, in this speech O'Connell again referred to the course pursued by Lord Donoughmore and Mr. (jrattan. He says that JNIr. Woulfe brings an " indictment," in which there are "four counts " against the Board. " It charges the Board, * * * Thirdly, with having made an unnecessary and virulent attack o\\ Lord Donoughmore and Mr. Grattan; and, — " Fourthly, with having been guilty of a pun. (Laughter.) * * * This has the merit of comicality. * * * A public body accused of a joke ! a public body charged with being miserably witty! Oh, most wise, most sapient accusers! * * * He, jNIr. Lawless, talked of the ' Knockloftiness ' of the style of a certain letter." Knocklofty is the name of Lord Donoughmore's place. O'Connell adds, immediately after, that Mr. Ijawless bor- rowed this " ' unfortunate witticism ' from Tlie Belfast ]\Iaf/azine, and retailed it to the Board at second-hand." O'Connell concludes this speech in these words — " and in that sacred cause '' (that of " un- quaUfied emancipation^'') "let the watch- word be unanimity for old Ireland! " " The following entertaining passage from the " Reminiscences of a Silent Agitator," by Thomas Kennedy, published in the Irish Monthly Magazine, a periodical defunct many years since, gives a vivid picture of some of the proceedings of the aristocratic seceders from the Catholic Board in or about the period I am noAV writing of : — "The time at length came when the maturing strength of the second order grew so obnoxious to the fastidious tastes of the Corinthians, that a secession from the democratic conventions was resolved on; and the Catholic aristocracy formed itself into a Praetorian band under the title of Seceders. Their secretary was Le Chevalier ' De McCarthy, brother to the count of the same name,' who derives his patent of nobiUty — like the knights who were slain by the princess Rusty Fusty in O'Keefe's farce — from the ' Holy Roman Empire ; ' and their hall of assembly was the drawing-room in the mansion of a nobleman (Lord Ti'imleston) — a most appropriate place for the means and ends they possessed and entertained. Circulars were directed to those belonging to the Catholic body wdio were considered en- titled to the private entree of Lord Trimel- ston's saloon; and some meetings wer® held by those political exclusives, where speeches were delivered and resolutions passed without subjecting the eloquent de- claimers to those occasional inteiTuptions which in mixed assemblies are rudely offered, expressive of applause. Too polite to be personal in their allusions to the political opponents of the cause, they were also too refined in their selection of lan- guage to be either spirited or independent in their sentiments; and when theytouched upon the feeling of the civil degradation which they were enduring, it was cal- culated more to excite compassion for their privations than applause for the indignant sense of wrong they should have displayed. The proceedings of the 414 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. seceders would have passed away like any other drawing-room amusements, commencing with politics and ending with a promenade, were it not that they took upon themselves to act for the people, and to assimie a sort of dictation in their cause. This was not to be en- dured; and at their next meeting the un- invited O'Connell was resolved to appear — " ' In their own halls I'll brave them.' "The seceders appointed a committee to prepare. an address to the prince-regent, and also agreed on a petition to Parlia- ment, in the spring of the year 1814 — all wiiich transactions emanated from Lord Trimleston's drawing-room. At the latter end 01 March, a circular was issued by Le Chevalier De McCarthy, their secre- tary of state, to those who were supposed to "sanction the secession, inviting them to attend, for the purpose of 'hearing the report of the committee appointed to prepare the address to his Royal Highness the prince-regent, and to receive a com- munication from the Earl of Donough- more.' The chevalier also requested that ' you would be so good as to mention this, with my compliments, to those of yovir acquaintance uiho have, sif/ned the jietition adopted on the 23rd February.' All those who still adhered to the Cathohc Board (the model of the association) were passed over, and the seceders imagined that, as the meeting was to take place in tl\e mansion of a nobleman, no tribune of the people would dare to intrude upon their privacy, or present himself at the portals uninvited. Wrapped in all the confidence of security from such a visitation, the members of this Aulic Council assembled to deliberate upon their snail-pace progress, and to prepare their forces for their inoffensive warfare. In the midst of their proceed- ings, a loud knock at the hall-door startled the slumbering echoes in Trimle- ston House, and attracted the attention of its drawing-room convention. The noble president looked embarrassed; the hectic of a moment passed over his cheek, but did not tarry. The knock was both loud and long, and terminated in a climax of sound : a general presentiment seemed to pervade the assembly that there was but one person who would have the audacity to demand admittance in that manner. The chevalier, more courageous than the rest, rose from his place at the table, and went to re- connoitre from a position on the staircase, and returned with a hurried step to his seat, whispering to those who were im- mediately around him something which did not seem to relieve their suspense. The chevalier. had scarcely taken his pen into his hand when the door opened and O'Connell advanced to the table. It would require a lengthened report to convey an idea of the debate which ensued ; or, perhaps, the pencil of a Hogarth could best describe the effect of the scene — the expression of impatience and vexation which lowered on the brows of his auditors, contrasted with the look of scornful rebuke which he cast upon them, one and all — the haughty tone with which he interrogated them, why they dared to take upon themselves to act for the Catholic people of Ireland, and to exclude from their meetings those belonging to that people who Avere their superiors in every attribute. Dismayed and humili- ated, the seceders never after ventured to assemble; and whether his Royal High- ness received the contemplated address, or whether the Earl of i)onoughmore's epistle was replied to, are matters I have not been able to ascertain. As a body, they were as effectually dissolved as the Coimcil of Five Hundred was — with this difference, that moral influence alone completed in the one case what the direction of military force achieved in the other. The next step the seceders took was to secede from a secession; and, as the Irish watchman once said to a nocturnal disturber, ' Dis- perse yourself^'' each retired within the glit- tering shell of his title or his opulence, and, like snails, they left no memorial but the slime of their proceedings to record them." The writer of the foregoing lively sketch is not quite correct in saying that the meeting at Lord Trimleston's was the last effort on the part of the seceders or vetoists to speak in the name of the people of Ireland. I shall, before long, have to notice a similiar packed meeting of this clique, in which, it appears to me, they presumed to, or at least would fain have, put themselves forward as speaking in the name of Catholic Ireland. But, first, it is necessary to give a concise account of the celebrated rescript of iNlonsignor Quarantotti. It was with an indescribable horror that O'Connell and his Catholic country- men read in an English paper, on May THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 415 the oi'd, the following announcement: •'We have just heard from unquestionable authority t'.iat the first act of the Pope, on his re-establishment at Rome, was to pass in full consistory, with the cardinals una- nimously asjreeing, an arrangement giving to the Britisli Crown the desired security respecting the nomination of Catholic bishops." At once the belief spread like wildfire that not merely the prelates, who had been appointed to administer ecclesiastical affairs at Rome while the Pope was a prisoner in the hands of Napoleon, had given their approval to the "securities" of Grattan's bill of the preceding year, but that Pius the Seventh himself had assented to them also. This appeared the more probable, as His Holiness was naturally grateful to the allied powers, England included, which, by turning the tide of conquest and invasion agamst the great Emperor, after his disastrous retreat from Leipzig, in 1813, had brought about the Pontiff's release from captivity. All the apprehensions, however, of the Irish Catholics seemed to be fully justified, when, on the 5th of May, 1814, the copy of a letter, bearing the signature c*"^ " ^lon- signor Quarantotti, Vice-prefect of Rome," appeared in the Dublin Ecening Post. While those who were hostile or in- different to the freedom of the Catholic Church in Ireland from the con-upting influences of the British Crown were satisfied, if not exulting, the real friends both of Catholic and Irish libei'ty were stricken with dismay; for Quarantotti's rescript expressed entire approval, not merely of Grattan's bill, but of Canning's clauses. The CathoUcs, according to this precious document, ought " to receive and embrace the bill with a grateful spirit." It may be as well to give some passages from this memorable document. It was addi-essed ,to " The Right Rev. William Poynter," vicar apostolic of the London district. Of this prelate, who, so far from being an opponent to the veto, had remained pitifully silent while the learned and admu-able Dr. Milner was brutally insulted in his presence by the English vetoists, O'ConneU humorously said, that " he was a poor creature, who should be called Spaniel, instead of Poynter." This was certainly hard hitting at the English Catholic primate; but then our uncom- promising Dan 'was no respecter of per- sons, and he seldom troubled himself v/ith measuring his words very scrupu- lously. Returning to the rescript, it says : — "As to the desire of the Government to be informed of the loyalty of those who are promoted to the dignity of bishop or dean, and to be assured that they possess those cjualifications which belong to a faithful subject ; as to the intention, also, of forming a board for the ascertainment of those points, by inquiring into the character of those who shall be presented, and reporting thereon to the king, according to the tenor of your lordship's letter; and, finally, as to the determination of Govern- ment to have none admitted to those dignities who either are not natural- born subjects, or who have not been residents in the kingdom for four years preceding, — as all these provisions regard matters that are merely political, they are entitled to all indulgence. It is bettor, indeed, that the prelates of our church should be acceptable to the king, in order that they may exercise their ministry with his full concurrence, and also that there may be no doubts of their integrity, even with those who are not in the bosom of the Church ; for, ' it behoveth a bishop ' (as the apostle teaches, 1 Tim. iii. 7) ' even ta have a good witness from those who are not of the Church.' Upon these principles we, in virtue of the authority entrusted to us, grant permission that those who are elected to and proposed for bishoprics and deaneries by the clergy may be admitted or rejected by the king, according to the law proposed. When, therefore, the clergy shaU have, accord- ing to the usual custom, elected those whom they shall judge most worthy in the Lord to possess those dignities, the metropolitan of the province in Ireland, or the senior vicar-apostolic of England and Scotland, shall give notice of the election, that the king's approbation or dissent may be had thereupon. If the candidates be rejected, others shall be proposed who may be acceptuble to the king ; but if approved of, the metropo- litan or vicar-apostolic, as above, shall send the dociuxients to the Sacred Con- gregation here, the members whereof, havmg duly weighed the merits of each, shall take measures for the attainment of canonical institution from His Holiness. 41'G THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. I perceive, also, that another duty is assigned to the Board above mentioned — namely, that they ar6 charged to inspect all letters written by the eccle- siastical power to any of the British clergy, and examine carefully whether they contain anything which may be injuri- ous to the Government, or anywise dis- turb the public tranquillity. Inasmuch as a communication on ecclesiastical or spiritual affairs witli the head of the Church is not forbidden, and as the in- spection of the Board relates to political subjects only, this also must be submitted to. It is right that the Government should not have cause to entertain any suspicion with regard to the communica- tion between us. What we write will bear the eyes of the world, for we inter- meddle not with matters of a political nature, but are occupied about those things which tlie divine and the eccle- siastical law, and the good order of the Church, appear to require. Those mat- ters only are to be kept under the seal of silence which pertain to the jurisdiction of conscience within us; and of this it appears to me sufficient care has been taken in the clauses of the law alluded to. We are perfectly convinced that so wise a Government as that of Great Britain, while it studies to provide for the public security, does not on that account wish to compel the Catholics to desert their religion, buj; would rather be pleased that they should be careful observers of it ; for our holy and truly divine religion is most favourable to 'public authority, is the best support of thrones, and the most powerful teacher both of loyalty and patriotism." Such was the famous Rescript of Mon- eignor Quarantotti, that created the most astounding hubbub all through Catholic Ireland. Indignation the most furious soon took the place of the feelings of dismay, which, on the fii'st arrival of the news, had struck a chill to the heart of every Catholic who was also a true irishman. Priests and people were alike ^•aging against '^ 'Mr. Forty-eight,' as the irrepressible tendency to jesting " (/ am borrounng the words of John (fConnell). " in the Irish Catholic, had already christened him " (Quarantotti'), "in allusion to a wild story about the derivation of his patronymic, said to have been from tlie number of a lucky lottery-ticket that had made his father's fortune." He was represented in the caricatures of the day as bending under a huge hamper, which he was bringing into the presence of His Holiness. The hamper was crammed with the mitres of Irish bishops, huddled together confusedly ; while George the Third, with covetous eye, was standing in a corner eagerly stretch- ing forth his hands to grasp the mitres. Irish priests, who remembered having seen Quarantotti at Rome in their student days, described him as a dunce. As the English papers took care to represent him as a cardmal, the fact that he was only a prelate was dwelt on in Ireland with some satisfaction. At a later period, indeed, he received a cardinal's hat; but in the mean time the Irish were glad in any way to lower his pretensions. Xothing could equal the disgust and rage with which Irishmen, both lay and clerical, read the praises of the English Government in this rescript. Thomas Kennedy, in liis Reminiscences of a Silent Agitator, says: — 'One of the proudest and most gratifymg recollections of the agitators is coimected with the dignified resistance which the Irish Catholic Church gave to the interference of the papal throne." I shall give some extracts, which John O'Connell quotes from the letter of "An Irish Priest," in order to shew the spirit in which Quarantotti's rescript was at once met. This letter appeared in the Dublin Ecening Post the day after that document had been given : — " The ferment spread like wildfire through every gradation of society, and the very lowest order of people felt its influence. Some cursed — others moaned — all complained. Early this morning my old servant-maid, without waiting for any commands of mine, accosted me abruptly with these words: — 'Oh, sir! what shall we do? Is it — can it be true that the Pope has turned OrangenianV'' " I must beg to correct two material mistakes of yours. * * * The docu- ment is not from His Holiness Pius the Seventh. * * * Nor is there a word to indicate any sort of consent or appro- bation from him or any one of his cardinals. Quarantotti refers to no authority but his own. * * * A clerk to the Congregation of the Propaganda presumes to decide on a subject of the greatest magnitude, and which would require the deliberation not only of the whole Congregation and *of the Pope THE LIFE OP DANIEL O'CONNELL. 417 ■himself, with his whole Colk\o-e of Car- dinals, but of an entii'e (Ecumenical (Jouncil. Nay, as it appei'taiiis to local discipline, that (Ecumenical Council itself could not compel us to submit — much less an understrapper of the Propaganda." The "Irish Priest" then amuses himseK with some criticism on the Latiniti/ of the rescript, lie also finds fault witli the channel through which Quarantotti thought proper to make so important .an announcement— through an English vicar-apostolic, instead of. at all events, addressing it to the ancient and regularly constituted hierarchy of Ireland. He concludes by saying: "Every attempt to weaken the Catliolic Church shall in the end jjrove fruitless ; and as long as the shamrock shall adorn our island, so long shall the faith delivered to us by St. Patrick prevail — in despite of kings, parliaments, Orangemen, and Quaran- iottis." , Meanwhile the opinion began to spread that this odious rescript had been issued by this preposterous Quarantotti solely on his own responsibility. It seemed possible even that the Pope had been ■completely ignorant of the whole transac- tion, which it has since been stated was the result of the secret intrigues of Lord "William Bentinck in Rome. The docu- ment was dated the 16th of February, while the liberation of Ilis Holiness from his French captivity did not take place till the 2nd of April. No wonder, then, that the resentment against the presump- tuous prelate and the resistance to his audacious rescript grew stronger each day. On the 12th of May, at a meeting of the parish priests and other clergymen of the archdiocese of Dublin, held in Bridge r. Dromgoole's speech, as I have intimated, created an extraordinary com- motion both among Protestants and Catholics. Nicholas Purcell O'Gorman styled it "base," "offensive," "illiberal," "calumnious," "bigoted," "unchari- table," "absurd," "monstrous," "un- christian-like," "abhorred." On the 24th of December, another meeting of the Board was held, Edward Blake of Frenchfort in the chair. Mr. O'Gorman demanded a vote of disavowal, or even censure, of the learned doctor. He talked of " the folly and guilt of a speech which amounts to a complete verification of all tlie calumnies of Sir Richard ^Nlusgrave — for silence is, in this instance, acqui- escence. He spoke also of Dr. Drom- goole's alluding "to the improbable — nay. almost impossible case of a Catholic becoming the king of those realms." O'Connell expressed his dislike of the motion ; yet he voted for it. He said : — " I solemnly protest against it as a prece- dent. * * * If -^ye disavow Dr. Dromgoole's speech, what will be the obvious consequences? Why, that the hirelings will exclaim at everj^ sentence that sounds harsh to their ears, ' Why, this is is the sentiment of the Catholic Board.' It will be in vain to answer, ' No ; it is the sentiment but of an insignificant individual' — I allude to mj own case — the reply will in future be decisive: it mus^t be the opinion of the entire Board, otherwise they would disavow it, as they disavowed Dr. Dromgoole. * * * " Yet I will not divide the Board, but vote for this motion, because it gives me another opportunity of reprobating bigotiy and religious rancour in general, and of pouring my execrations on the cavises of that feud which changed the inhabitants of this land from countrymen and brothers, and made them aliens to each other and mortal enemies ; that feud which has struck down the ancient king- dom of Ireland from her rank as a nation, leavmg her nothing but the name of the paltry and pitiful province in which we vegetate rather than live." In a preceding part of this speech he had declared that he would not give up " a single hour" or " a single exertion to procure the victory of one sect over the others. No, my object is of a loftier nature. / am an agitator with idterior views! I wish for liberty — real liberty." The vote of censure passed. Dr. Drom- goole had vainly asked " for a short res- pite of opiniom" Onthe2dofMarch,1814,7EneasMcDon- neUmoved that this vote of censure should be rescinded. He argued that it had done no good — that so far from appeasing any enemy, it had been looked on as " an act of pusillanimity." Dr. Sheridan seconded the motion. He said the vote of censure had been carried by surprise. Counsellor Finlay defended the vote of censure in an able speech. " I know," said he, "of but one great basis for tolera- tion, and that is the broad principle that religion is a matter between man and his God, and that no other man should inter- fere." Luke Plunket replied forcibly to Counsellor Finlay. He maintained that the objectionable expres.sions were con- fined to a very small portion of Dr. Drom- goole's speech, and that even these, when referred to the whole of the text and the whole of the reasoning, were "not only not illiberal, but rather calculated to serve than to injure the Protestant Church." Messrs. Roche and Walsh spoke against Dr. Dromgoole. The latter made the meeting laugh heartily by his queer de- THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 427 fence of the Jumpers. He had gone to a Jumpers' meeting in Wales. At first he felt inclined to laugh ; but as they were honest, he restrained himself. " Their object in jumping was explained to him ; and, finding their intentions pious, his sympathies were excited, and when they jumped, he jumped too!" (Loud Laugh- ter.) " At that time he was able to jump well ; and as he proved the highest juniper of the sect, he was considered the most highly inspired of all the Jmnpers ! " (Laughter.) When Jack Lawless rose to speak, O'Connell cried out sharply, " Hear the public accuser." Lawless's repartee was equally sharp: " I am sorry to be called the public accuser, but I am more sorry that there should be a. public criminal to be accused." This was intended as a hit at that resolution of O'Connell's which Dr. Dromgoole had caused to be with- drawn, and which had been considered as opening a loophole to the veto. ' When Nicholas i\Iahon and others complained of Lawless's retort, he replied: ''If the expression is disagreeable, Mr. O'Connell should thank himself for it." He then moved, as an amendment, that " the Catholic ISoard was responsible only for its resolutions ; " but he subsequently withdrew this amendment at the request of several of his colleagues. Dennis Scully spoke in favour of re- scinding the resolution ; but Nicholas Purceil O'Gormau spoke vehemently against Dr. Dromgoole's speech. At a previous meeting O'Gorman had roundly asserted that even Mahometans might be saved. On the strength of this liberal opinion some absurd story - gabblers pread abroad the rumour that O'Gorman was a Mahometan. Ludicrously enough (at least, it so seems now), Mr. O'Gorman thought it necessary to defend himself against the imputation : " I am not a Mahometan," he roared; " I assure the Catholic Boai'd that it is a base calumny to impute to me a belief in the Maho- metan faith. I declare, in the most unequivocal manner, that I am not, and will not ever be, a Mahometiin." He also said: "So popular was Dr. Drom- goole with them" QJie Oraiu/cinen of Dcrry) " that after the usual toast of the ' glorious, pious, and immortal memory,' they next gave as a toast, ' Dr. Drom- goole, long life to him!'" (Laughter.) " The speech of Dr. Dromgoole w.as posted on the walls of the houses. Yes, so great was the zeal of the Orange- men to disseminate the speech of Dr. Dromgoole, that it was sold fpritis!'^ (Here O'Gorman's bull drew forth a burst of laughter.) " The moment the speech was disclaimed, the news .produced an instantaneous effect on the minds of the people of Derry." Mr. O'Gorman added, that his liberality towards the Mahome- tans had carried him a little too far. All this time O'Connell sat with his hat cocked on the side of his head, in an Irish, " devil-may-carish " style, and with a humorous look. He rose, uncovered his head, and delivered a speech, which bore some analogy to an Irish stew ; at leasl, its ingredients were of the most miscel- laneous description — all sorts of topics curiously associated together. One thing was certain, it was a most entertain- ing medley. He supported ^Eneas McDonnell's motion to rescind the vote of censure; at the same time he begged to differ more or less from most of the speakers on both sides. The oath, which Grattan's bill required, according to O'Connell, " would hinder a CathoUc priest from preaching, because his ser- mons must be an indii-ect means of sub- verting the Protestant religion." It was worse than the oath devised " by their implacable enemy. Dr. Duigenan," which " only bound the person who took it not to substitute another in place of the Pro- testant religion." He was far from agree- ing with Mr. Scully in his approval of every expression in Dr. Dromgoole's speech. What right had the learned doctor to speak disrespectfully of any religion? If he had no other proof, the manner in which Mr. Finlay resented such language was a circumstance which convinced him that Di\ Dromgoole took an unwarrantable liberty with the feelings of persons of a different communion." Still, " Mr Scully had decided him to vote for the reversal of their former resolution. They had banished Dr. Dromgoole by their vote, and he would ask, who was the next person that was to be proscribed — wlio was to be called a public crindnal? Who was the obnoxious person who was to be guillotined in j^ublic opinion, and to be cut off from society? Who was the person that must next fall,' when neither the soundness of his head nor the integrity of his heart could protect him? He was sorry to find that the greatest 428 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. patriots were as ready to abuse the honest and talented Catholic, who boldly re- pelled the calumnies of his persecutors, as the veriest reptiles of the Orange faction." (Laughter.) Barney Coile told the meeting, amid mingled hisses and applause, that "they should not be led astray by the two Solomons of the Board — Counsellors O'Coimell and Scully — whose advice vi'ould make them lose the support of their Protestant brethren," iEneas jNfcDonnell, in replying, re- ferred to a meeting in Ijondon, attended by a crowd of persons of every rank, at which he had been present. At this meeting, " a discussion took place as to the merits of Madam Johanna Southcote, charwoman of Bath, who thought proper to raise up a new religion for piii-j^oses of fraud. She maintained that she was en- trusted by the Almighty with a power to provide admission to the seat of eternal bliss, and therefore made up seals, which she sold at a shilling each ; and she had actually persuaded her foolish followers that no Qne could enter the kingdom of heaven who had not one of these seals. The blasphemo'us Arretch had further stated, that such was the familiarity which existed between her and the Almighty, that she slept every night with the Saviour ! * Am I then, sir, or any other gentleman, to be restrained by any fastidious delicacy from expressing Kiy abhorrence of such abominable doctrines? Certainly not. But I am told that all religions are alike ; that, provided a man thinks himself right, it matters not whether he pro- fesses the belief of a Christian or a Ma- liometan. But I will not coincide with such liberality, because I cannot agree that Christianity is altogether unnecessary for the salvation of man, as I must sup- pose it to have been if I entertain such opinions.'' Here ' ' the pious ^neas " fails to see that he has entangled himself in a ne t- work of fallacy. Doubtless, it may matter a deal to a man whether he be a Christian or a Mahometan — ay, everything in the universe. But then the matter chiefly concerns the individual himself, and most certainly it does not concern the Catholic Board, as the Catholic Board, at all. ' Here,'' saj^s Mr. McDonnell, " I find myself opposed by a Mahometan and a Jumper " Up starts Nicholas Purcell O'Gorman, * Johanna Southcote said she was to give birth to the true Messiah. all a-flame, to demand "if Mr. McDonnell alluded to him as a Mahometan?" " I must express my surprise." responds " the pious iEneas," in a good-humoured, conciliatory tone, " at the serious coun- tenance :)f the learned gentleman. I merely meant to observe that, of the lead- ing opponents of my resolution, the one professed his respect for Mahometanism, the other avowed his admiration of the Jumpers. These gentlemen have opposed me upon principles of liberality; btit I have not heard any reason or argument to induce me to change my opinion as to the necessity of rescinding the hasty and unworthy resolution wliich I seek to rescind." ^'Eneas McDonnell pronounced a panegyi'ic on the learned doctor; but it was all in vain — the board refused to rescind the resolution. Dr. Dromgoole seems to have regarded this vote as tantamount to expulsion. Ere long, the inflexible old physician and theologian of the schools ceased to de- liver his solemn harangacs at Catholic meetings, leaning on his massive gold- headed cane, and from time to time striking it on the earth to emphasize the close of each ponderous period. Wise, in his History of the Catholic Association, thus sketches the quiet close of the old anti- vetoist's csiveev : — '-Dr. Dromgoole was a champion of the olden times — he scorned to be deterred from the good woi'k by the disapproval of 'these men of little faith.' He persevered unto the end— discharging, even in the moment of his I'etrcat from public life, some of the ParthLan sliafts of long-nourished hatred which he had brandished so boldly in the earlier part of his career. His latter days were spent in the shadow of the Vatican. Finding few ears for his truths in Ireland, he re- tired to Rome; but whether to organise an ' aimy of the faith ' or to import a second llinuccini for the modern Catholic confederacy, has not been transmitted to posterity. It was not without a smile that the Irish student sometimes met him in the learned gardens of that capital, mattiring, with his accustomed leisure of thought and manner, some new project 'for the salvation of the infidels.'" "I remember well," says another writer, ■ ' years after all discussion upon the veto had subsided, when I was in Paris on a visit at the house of a friend of the doctor's and my own, he suddenly dropped in, just after his arrival from Home. I had not seen him for a considerable time, THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONKELL. 429 but I had scarcely asked him how he was, when he reverted "to the iWo. A debate was immediately opened on the subject. jSome Irisli gentlemen dropped casually in ; they all took their share in the argu- ment; the eloquence of the different dis- piitants became inflamed. The windows towards the streets had been left unhap- pily open ; a crowd of Frenchmen col- lected outside, and the other inhabitants of the house gathered at the doors to hear the discu.ssion. It was only after the doctor, who was still under the influence of vetophobia, had taken his leave, tliat I perceived the absurdity of the incident A volume of Gil Bias was on the table where Ave happened to have assembled, and by accident I lighted on the passage in which he describes the Irish disputants at Salamanca : ' Je rencontrois quelquefois den figures Ilihernoise.t. II falloit nous voir disputer,^ etc.* We are a strange people, and deserve our reputation at the foreign universities, where it was said of the Irish that they were ratione furentes''' (raging with reason). And so the old scholastic philosopher, who. when not disturbed by the veto, was one of the mildest and best-natured of men, died far a,way from old Ireland, beneath the '• shadow of the Vatican." I shall now return to the point of my narrative, from which I turned back to relate the episodes of Major Bryan and Dr. Dromgoole. On the 3d of June, 1814. the English Government, now at length victorious over their great imperial enemy, who, reduced to a phantom royalty in the little island of Elba, seemed more an object of mockery than terror, felt themselves secure enough to strike a sud- den and startling blow at the CathoHc movement. It was three o'clock in the afternoon. O'Connell had arrived in the board-room. Gradually members dropped in to the number of sixteen. As the clock strikes four, a messenger rushes in jn hot haste, and hands our hero a viceregal pro- clamation. Appealing to the Conven- tion Act, this document declares the Catholic Board an unlawful assembly, thougk artifice had been employed to make it appear lawful. The law, indeed, was not enforced sooner "against the said . * Here is the whole passage, translated by Smollet, I believe :—"! sometimes met with some Irishmen, who Jov d disputing as well as myself, and we made rare work of it. Lord, what grimaces ! What gestures ! Fii-e sparkled in our eyes, and we always foamed at the muuth. Every one that saw us ought to have fctkea us rather for madmen than philosophers." assembly, in the expectation that those who had been misled by such artifice would become sensible of their error," and that tlie board " would be discontinued without the necessity of legal interposi- tion." The viceroy being satisfied '-that the further continuance of said assembly can only tend to serve the ends of factious and seditious per.soiis, and to the violation of the public peace," cautions " all such of His Majesty's subjects as are members of the said assembly" to abstain from any further attendance at or on it. If they defy the proclamation, they must expect to be prosecuted. When O'Connell read aloud, in deep, unwavering tones, this tyrannical procla- mation, he declared it illegal — that it outstripped the authority conferred on Government by the Convention Act. If twenty-three members of the Board— the number requisite for that purpose — had assembled, he would have proceeded with the meeting. As that number failed to arrive, those present determined to hold the next meeting at O'Connell's house, in Merrion Square. There it was resolved to abstain for tlie present from assem- bling the Catholic Board, but to lose no time in summoning an aggregate meeting of Catholics. This meeting assembled on the 11th of June. Spirited resolutions were passed. The Board had advocated Catholic i-ights, and proclaimed Catholic wrongs, " with truth and eloquent earnestness." Owing to its efforts "the friends of religious freedom" had increased, " the votaries of intolerance" had been •' nearly silenced ; " for "general calumnies against the moral principles of the Catholics " had been •• exploded." The Board had cheered and protected the people against local oppressions of bad magistrates and others, warned them "against the snares of insidi- ous foes," frustrated "intrigues," baffled corruption. Freedom of discussion had " elicited the talents, upheld the virtues, and advanced the fame of the country." They had placed "the great cause" of their petitions " on the firm basis of imi- versal good — the religious freedom of all mankind.^'' For these services the meeting " sincerely thanked the members of the Catholic Board, and recommended them to the respect and gratitude of their country." In this paragraph I have con- densed the substance of the resolutions passed by the aggregate meeting. 430 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. But one touching incident will render this meeting for ever interesting and memorable, especially to the Irish people. At the commencement of the proceedings, as O'Connell, standing in front of the platfonn, with his arnas folded across his breast, was addressing the audience, an interruption at one of the small doors at the side of the altar (for the meeting was held in a chapel) caused him to turn round. For a moment there was silence. Then a cheer was heard from the people outside. But suddenly the immortal name of CuRRAN rang through the sacred edifice. Many a stout arm was extended to help the dying patriot as he feebly advanced to the front of the stage, where O'Connell and the other Catholic leaders stood. Tremendous acclamations shook the build- ing as O'Connell sprang towards him, seized his hand, and led him forward. The excitement was almost too much for his shatteied frame : he sank into a chair, and for a few moments covered his face with his hands. An eye-witness of the scene says: — "I never shall forget the sharp penetrating glance he threw over the assembly when he seemed to rally from the transient debility which at first oppressed him, and the fixed regard he cast upon O'Connell when he resumed his address." His appearance among the Catholics, at the moment when everything seemed to look black and menacing to their hopes, when tyrant power proscribed and denounced them, when false or luke- warm friends betrayed or fell off from them, not merely touched their hearts and gratified them, but rekindled in their souls fresh spirit and energy. Their memories went back to the dark days of '98, when, with a patriot's words of flame, the dauntless advocate of tlie United Irishmen, in his zeal for his lost clients, struggled against despair, never once shrinking before the face of threatenings or the infinite perils that gathered around. " Those," says Thomas Kennedy, describ- ing this most interesting scene, "who had heard him in the days of his power, regarded him with all the hallowed feel- ings which are associated with tlie memory of his exertions in the defence of martyred patriotism ; while others, like myself, with whom those events wear all the interest of times prior to our own, and whose admiration of his genius was excited by the delighted perusal of his fascinating and faultless speeches, gazed at him with mingled feelings of homage and devo- tion." When the business of the meeting drew to a close, one of the speakers arose a second time, and proposed the following resolution: — "-Resolved, That the most cordial and grateful thanks of the Catho- lics of Ireland are pre-eminently dae and hereby given to that incorruptible patriot, the Right Hon. John Philpot Curran, who has this day honoured our meeting- with his presence, and with whose uniform exertions in the cause of religious freedom we have ever seen connected the fairest and proudest recollections of Catholics and Irishmen." This resolution was of course carried by acclamation. Curran, full of emotion, pressed his hand on liis heart and bowed his acknowledgments. At this meeting, too, the eloquent — indeed, altogether too eloquent and high- flying — Charles Phillips addressed Cur- ran. I shall give one or two sentences as a specimen of his redundant hyper- bolical style. After calling Curran "that paragon of Irishmen," he said, seeing him shew signs of agitation, " No, Curran, do not be afraid that I shall depreciate you by my admiration. I cannot rise into the region where you soar; and even if I could, the fate of Icarus forewarns me not to approach the sun whose refulgence would consume me. Contemplating such a man, to be just I must be silent. Panegyric in such a case is poverty, and to be eloquent is to be wordless." (Loud applause.) This seems to me almost frigid in its eff^ort to be fervid. StUl, many of his over-ornate passages were really alive with the spirit of true elo- quence. In this speech he tells a humor- ous story of Charles James Fox. Fox was in debt*; "the Jews called on kim for repayment. ' Ah, my dear friends,' says Fox, ' I admit the principle — ^I owe you the money; but what time is this, when I am going upon business!' Just so, our friends admit the principle; tliey owe you emancipation — but war is no time. Well, the Jews departed just as you did. They returned to the charge. 'What!' cries Fox, ' is this a time, when I am engiiged on an appointment? ' What say our friends? ' Is this a time, when all the world are at peace? ' " (Laughter.) "The Jews departed; but the end of it was, that Fox, with his secretary, 3,Ir. Hare, who was as much in delit as him- self, shut themselves up in garrison. The THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. 431 Jews surrnnnded his habitation, and Fox put his head out of the window, with this question: — 'Gentlemen, are you Fox- huntini>-or Hare-himting this morning?'" (Laughter.) "His pleasantry mitigated the very Jews: 'Well, well, Fox, you have always admitted the principle, but always protested against tiie time. We will give you your own time — only fix some final day for our repajinent.' ' Ah ! my dear IMoses,' replied Fox, 'now this is friendly ; I take you at your word ; I will fix a day, and as it's to be a final day, what would you think of the day of judg- ment?'" (A laugh.) '"That will be too busy a day with us.' ' Well, well, in order to accommodate all parties, let us settle it the day after.' " (Laughter.) " Thus it is ; between the war inexpe- diency of Bragge Bathurst and the. peace inexpediency of Mr. Grattan, you may expect your emancipation bill pretty much about the time that Fox appointed for the payment of his creditors." (Laughter.) This was, in all probability, the last political meeting at which Ourran ap- peared. The traces of premature decay, and the signs of death, not very for off, were visibly imprinted on his counte- nance. The languid expression of his features, more conspicuous when he tried to smile, gave melancholy warning to the hearts of his admirers. But his dark and eloquent eye still blazed with his old fixe of genius whenever one of the orators would utter a generous sentiment. AH eyes followed with last glances of grief and sympathy his retreating figure, when, overcome by the heat and excitement, now too much for his shattered constitu- tion, he rose, during the reading of a petition, and, taking the arm of a friend, went forth. Kennedy says: — "I never saw him again. Soon after he went to France, and from thence to England, where he closed his earthly career." I must now sa}' farewell to this incorrup- tible patriot. He died on the 14th of October, 1817, at nine at night. He had eagerly desired that his ashes should rest in liis native isle; but, strangely, his executors bimed him in one of the vaults of Paddington Church, where his remains weie left for twenty years. Then, as Davis says, they "were resumed by his motlier earth." His second funeral was public. He now sleeps in Glasnevin Ceme- tery, close by Dubhn.* • Authorities of foregoing chapter i—TAe — Dr. Murriiys Mission to Rome — English Intrigues in Rome — O'Conuell and Jlenry Grattan — Resolute Opposition of the Prelates, Clergy, and People of Ireland to the Veio — Poverty anrl 'Weakness of the CathoUc Association — Divi- sions in the National Camp— Faial Duel between O'Connell and D'Esterre — Departure of Lord "Whitworth from Ireland — Strange Affair between O'Connell and Secretary Peei— Duel between Lid- will and Sir Charles Sax'on — Colhsion with the Vetoists— Efforts at Concihation- Father Hayes's Letter from Rome — O'Connell Co-operates with "the Friends of Reform in Parliament" — iEueas McDonnell Fined and Imprisoned — The Rhemish Testament — Answer to the Irish Catholics from the Court of Rome — Dinner to Thomas Moore — Dinner to O Connell at Tralee — Catholic Meetings — General D'Evereux — Death of (i rattan — O'Con- nell Supports Yoimg Grattan at the Dublin Elec- tion. For several years after the suppression oi the Board the Catholic cause made little progress. Indeed, the general fortunes of Ireland became gloomier every day. England was now in her highest place of pride. In 1815, the great emperor escaped from Elba, and made a descent on the coast of France, at the ho&d of a small, but trusty, band of his old guard. His triumphant march to Paris was one of the most electrifying achievements in all history. All the armies sent against him. joyfully went over to him, and marched " under the wings of his victorious eagles." Paris, the provinces, all France, once more confessed his imperial sway, and prepared to sustain their chosen chief against the banded hosts of Europe. But this success was only an ephemeral gleam. At Waterloo his might went down for ever before the combined armies of Eng- land and Prussia. England now touched her highest point of greatness. Mean in the midst of her triumph, she not merely Speeches of Daniel O'Cormell. M.P.. edited by his Son; Historii of Ireland, by John Mitchel; Wise's History of the Catholic Association; Life and Times nf Daniel O'Connell, etc., Dublin. .T MuUany; Historical Sketches of U'Connell and his Fricm/x, by Thomas D Magee; Ireland and her Aijitators. by O Noill Daunt; Davis's Life of C-urran ; Lady Morgan's Ikxil: of the Boudoir; Reminiscences of a Hiient Agitator, by Thomas Kennedy; etc. 432 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CORNELL. insisted that the twice-restored Bourbons should suppress the Irish legion in the service of France, engage to raise no more brigades of "wild geese," but she even persecuted for a time some of the gallant exiles of '98. It was small con- solation to Ireian(? that Castlereagh claimed the credit of having procured the revival of the Irish ecclesiastical seminary in Paris. England no longer feared the triumph of French principles in Ireland. The second American war had come to an end. A treaty of peace with the United States had been concluded on the 24th of December, 1814. The British oli- garchy. Church and State, "the Orange Ascendency" were now so firmly en- throned that they could afford to be insolent and spurn the idea of anything like concession. The Catholic aristocracy, more and more every day, withdrew from all participation in Irish political affairs. O'Connell still swayed the democracy; but for long his efforts to achieve emanci- pation were productive of hardly any perceptible results. " The hopes of the Catholics," says Richard Lalor Shiel, "fell with the peace. A long interval elapsed in -which nothing very important or deserving of record took place. A political lethargy spread itself over the great body of the people; the assemblies of the Catholics became more unfrequent, and their language more despondent and hopeless than it had ever been." Mr. Mitchel adds :♦" And never before, for half a century, had the 'Protestant interest' shewn itself so aggressive and so spiteful towards the Catholic people." Mr. Secretary Peel, during the years of his administration — a period of such little hope for Ireland — signalised himself by many ingenious and malignant devices for riveting more securely upon that unhappy land the fetters of England's dominion. He reorganised and increased the con- stabulary, so as to render it, under the pretence of being a civil force, in reality a numerous and well-drilled military body, fully capable of playing a useful auxiliary part, in conjunction with the regular army, in suppressing any attempts on the part of the trampled Irish to regain their lost independence. At least one small party of the constabulary is stationed in every parish in Ireland. Thus a network of men, partly spies, partly soldiers, covers the island. Doubtless, if a na- tional uprising became general, these men, who after all are for the most part sons of Irish small farmers and peasants, might be absorbed in the popular might, unless speedily concentrated by the ene- my; but, at the commencement of an insurrectionary movement, they are likely to prove of incalculable service to the British, in crushing the small bands of peasantry assembling from various points, and in intercepting them, so as to prevent their junction in any great force. This unpopular corps has received from the country-people the nickname of Peelers, after the name of their founder or re- organiser. Mr. Peel also originated the class of stipendiary or police magistrates. These self-important creatures of the Castle — generally briefless barristers or broken- down petty politicians — by making a pompous pretence of legal knowledge and of possessing the confidence of those high in authority, generally contrived to secure in their own hands the mismnnnfic- ment of the local administration of justice. They were expected above all things to guard against any outburst of indepen- dent feeling (a sort of thing not likely often to occur) on the part of those country gentlemen who were the ordinary justices of the peace. During the war comparative prosperity reigned in Ireland. The demand for Irish agricultural produce, to supply the commissariat of armies and to provision fortresses, was very great. Large con- tracts for the provisioning of the navy were made in Cork. The consequent high war-prices enabled the farmers to endure the constant rise of rents ; but, after the war ended, prices fell, and the peasantry began to be miserable. The population of the island was now six millions. Land being the only source of tlie liveliliood for a vast majority, the competition for farms became ruinous. The surplus population of Ireland began now to be spoken of. The extermina- tion of wretched tenants-at-will com- menced. Often whole town lands were cleared " at one fell swoop." Peel's cheap ejectment laws gave the landlords absolute power over the fate of their miserable tenants. One, passed in 1815, gave an assistant-barrister the power of decreeing, at the cost of a few shillings, the ejectment of all tenants of holdings, the rent of which was under £20. A THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. 433 later Act made the evidence of a land- lor(i, or his agent, sufficient to ascertain the amount of rent due by a tenant. For a wliile longer the forty-shilling freeholders, wlio had leases and whose votes added electioneering influence to their landlords, were let alone. Their time of doom, however, was yet to arrive. The crafty Peel took good care to resist Sir John Newport's motion, in 1816, for a Parliamentary committee to inquire into the state of Ireland. His resistance was successful. He took good care, also, to procure the renewal of the Insurrection Act in 1814; he caused it to be maintained in force in 1815 and 1816. He who could not give a good account of himself was rammed into prison. The peasant who was caught in possession of a fowling-piece was transported. Peel had even meditated the introduction of a bill to render illegal any aggregate meet- ings of Catholics that were not convened by a high-sheriff or certain of the magis- tracy. This would virtually place Catho- lic meetings under the control of Protes- tant functionaries. However, this project was let drop. Perhaps Peel deemed British and " Ascendency " rule in Ire- land secure enough, now that the impe- rial-democratic might of France was down in the dust. In truth, the condition of the peasantry was lamentable beyond description. The immemorial tale has to be repeated: the pe'ople of Irela^id wanted bread, even potatoes. In 1817 the potato crop failed. There were famine and typhus-fever in the woe-stricken land. Also, there was a large exportation from Ireland of grain and cattle. Poverty and suiferings of all sorts sometimes, and not unnaturally, produced agrarian crime. Then the magistrates would meet and demand the proclamation of counties. While the peasantry were devouring weeds^boiled nettles and wild kail, called in Irish prashagh — the reign of renewed Coercion Acts and Insurrection Acts terrorised the land. AVhat wonder if popular political movements languished in those days of oppression? Even in England, the tyranny of the ministry crushed popular (lemonstrations. In 1819, Lord Sidmouth carried his famous " six Acts," chiefly to put down " the seditious aspirations" of the English people. Penalties were im- posed by these laws for the possession of arms and for what the Government chose to style " blasphemous and seditious libels." On tlic 16th of August, 1819, a body of troops massacred a number of persons taking part in a perfectly peace- able meeting, at^Peterloo, near Man- chester. One of the "six Acts" was then passed, to prohibit, under severe penal- ties, the assemblage of more than fifty persons at a meeting, unless it were con- voked by the magistrates. Mr. Mitchel calls this state of things "the British ' Reign of Terror.' " This, however, was aristocratic, not popular tyranny. I may, add here that, in the year 1814, at the fair of Shercock, in the county Cavan, the Orange banditti had perpetrated another inhuman massacre. In the open day, in different parts of the town, the corpses of twenty-four men and two women had been stretched in their blood. The streets of the little to-wn had rung horribly with the heart-rending and dis- sonnaut screams of mothers, Avidows, and orphans. This hideous massacre had struck a chill of horror home to O'Con- nell's heart. I shall now briefly notice some of the principal Catholic meetings that took place during this dreary and hopeless period. They were fruitful of few or no beneficial results. After the suppression of the Board, while the counsels of those who wished to resist the illegal Act of Government were rejected, nothinsr was further from the minds of the more prudent leaders than to abandon all exertion. These, however, had to contend with great difficulties. Some of those who had been hitherto prominent in Catho- lic affairs were false, more were faint- hearted. Besides, the Parliamentary patrons of the Catholics quibbled and cavilled, and sometimes reproached and taunted them. At one time they affronted the public opinion of the Ca- tholic masses, at another they contemp- tibly coquetted for popular applause. For a time the Dublin meetings consisted only of a few persons assembled in a drawing-room of Lord Fingal's town- house. These meetings — at which few were allowed to be present, and from which the press was excluded — were soon nicknamed the " Catholic Divan." 0'(Jonnell, however, succeeded in pro- curing a relaxation of this exclusiveneas during the short period that the "Divan" 434 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL.- survdved liis return to I^ublin for the winter season. On the 10th of January, 1815, one of these snug little meetings, at which cake and wine used to be handed around, took place, O'Connell caused a Catholic petition, drawn up by Shiel, to be negatived. It praised " the generosity and hberality " of the English Parliament. It made Catholics declare that, " in seeking capabilities for con- stitutional distinctions, they must pro- portionally come within the sphere of constitutional influence and control." Shiel admitted that this squinted at the influence Government might win by dis- tribution of patronage among Catholics. This paragraph and another, which, Shiel allowed he designed for the purpose of leaving open a loophole for the proposal, -at some future time, of " securities " of some sort, were scouted by O'ConneU and others. A statement in the petition that Pitt had been favourable to Catho- lic claims was flatly contradicted. In short, as a whole, ifc was deemed objec- tionable and negatived, and O'Connell and some others were requested to pro- vide a substitute. Shiel had now become a complete partisan of the aristocratic section of the Catholics, though in the previous June, in a speech at Waterford, he had spoken of them and their secession from the Board in the most unflattering terms. The Catholic magnates of Eng- land were highly gratified while the regime of the " Divan " lasted. Tliey thouglit it an indication that aristocratic influences were predominating among the Irisli Catholics. They began to hope that the Irish antipathy to the veto would gradually die out. If this did not happen, they at least expected to see a division among the Catholics of Ireland; "and that," observed one of them in conversa- tion, " will serve the piirjDoses of the minister; for, after all, though Catholics, we ynust think and feel as EnglishnKm!'''' On the 17th of January another meet- ing took place at the Earl of FingaFs. O'Connell moved a resolution, which he said had already been four times adopted by the Catholics, that they should seek " for the total and unqualified repeal of the penal statutes." An altercation took place at tliis meeting. Mi-. Power of Waterford asked O'Connell, Would he accede to no " ecclesiastical arrange- ments'?" To this O'Connell said eman- cipation should be without qualification. Power said, " Then I wiU not agree with your resolution." Lord Fingal said, — " I agreed to these meetings on the sup- position of an honourable understanding between us that no religious subjects should be introduced, but that we should confine ourselves solely to a petition for civil immunities." O'Connell said, he, too, desired "emancipation without refer- ence to our religious opinions, and with- out subjecting our religion to the control of a Protestant Parliament." Shiel urged O'Coimell to give up, for the sake of union, the one v/ord '^unqualified.^' O'ConneU, however, stood firm, and the majority of the meeting supported him. At a meeting at Fitzpatrick's, in Capel Street, on the 21st, there was some dis- cussion as to the propriety of withdrawing the management of the Catholic petition from the hands of Mr. G rattan and the Earl of Donoughmoi'e, and transferring it to that liberal son of George the Third, his royal highness the Duke of Sussex, in the Lords; and to Messrs. ^V'hitbread, Ivomilly, and Horner, in the Commons. Against this arrangement Mr. LidwUl, a Protestant gentleman of Tipperaiy, a zealous friend of the Catholic cause, made an effective speech. The meeting agreed to his views — even those not con- vinced of their justness yielding out of compliment to him. An awkward incident occurred on Tuesday, the 24th of January, at the aggregate meeting of the Catholics of Ireland held in Clarendon Street Chapel. The chair had just been taken, shortly after one o'clock, by a fine venerable- looking Irish gentleman, Owen O'Connor (the O'Connor Don, the descendant, in the collateral line, of Roderick O'Connor, the last Ardrigh of Ireland), when Lord Fingal appeared. The honour of sitting in the chair was at once offered to his lordship. But, with many polished pro- fessions of his deep sense of the honour done him, of regret at being obhged to decline that honour, and of the goodness of his intentions at all events, he declined to take the chair. " It was, he unagined. agreed that no topic should be introduced touching on spiritual ^latters, as the result of the mission to Home had not yet been known." When the earl be- came silent, there was a pause of several seconds, as all thought he would yet, on reconsideration, take the chair. i\Ir. Alahon said that he was opposed- to an THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 435 intermeddling with spiritual matters. "But, good God!" cried, he, "what has a simple demand of unqualified emanci- pation to do with theological contro- versy V " Lord Fingal said his mind was made up, and begged not to be pressed further. " He was not wedded to any particular mode of emancipation ; * * * but he thought it was agreed that nothing should be said on questions of Church disci])line until some official communica- tion was had from Rome; and as he con- ceived that gentlemen did not recognise this arrangement by the measures they proposed, he thought he Avas called upon to remain neutral." O'Connell, having heard so much, on this and former occasions, from Lord Fingal "respecting a contract or com- pact," now begged to " distinctly and emphatically deny that he ever waa a party to anj' compact which could directly or indirectly tend to sanction any alteration by Parliament in our ecclesiastical concerns. He never heard that any such compact existed." He remonstrated with the earl at some length, requesting him, in conclusion, to take the chair. Lord Fingal felt himself " distressed at being obliged to declare that he would outrage liis own feelings if he consented to take the chair, under all the circum- stances of the case. He did not pre- sume to say he was right, but he could not surmount the difficulties which his opinions had thrown in his way." The earl then moved towards the door ; O'Con- nell, standing with folded arms, looked after him with a glance of regret. But when little Richard Lalor Shiel got up hastily and followed the great Lord Fingal, the expression of O'Connell's face became one of impish mockery. Derisively he cried out, provoking a loud burst of laughter from the assem- blage, " There goes the lion with his jackal ! " At this meeting, O'Connell made a second speech, which he ended with these words: — " We shall have the glory of achieving our hberties, without foraaldng the ivorship of our fathers.^'' In the early part of this year (1815) a Catholic Association Avas formed. This was not the one which afterwards suc- ceeded in achieving emancipation ; indeed, this one proved of comparatively little account. The ceremony of organisation was simple ; the great object seemed to be to steer clear of the penal provisions of the dread Convention Act. The jour- nals of the day tell us, — " Mo cliair was taken — no proposition submitted — no instructions offered — no specchifi cation even indulged in; but every gentleman who chose entered his name in a book, which Mr. Secretary Hay held open (and will continue to keep open • from eleven till three each day), and the rites and solenniities of installation were then com- plete and ended."' On the IGth February, 1815, a report of a committee, a|)pointed to wait on Archbishop Mm^ray to learn whether " any arrangement of Catholic discipline in Ireland, as connected with the Crown," had been heard of, was pre- sented to the Association. Archbishop Murray had described to the committee his proceedings in Rome as the delegate of the Catholic bishops. He could not, however, "anticipate when the decision of His Holiness " (about the veto question) " could be expected." Evidently there was reason to dread the intrigues of the English Catholics, and perhaps those of the English cabinet, in Rome. Dr. Milner had " protested against Mr. Mac- pherson being the English agent, and also against the English Board being- considered as the English Catholics." On the 16th of June in the same year, at an adjourned meeting of the Catholics, the misunderstandings between the Ca- tholic body, on one side, and Mr. Grattan and the Earl of Donoughmore, on the other, as to the terms on v/hich the Ca- tholic petitions should be presented, were considered. A letter from Lord Donoughmore was deemed more or less satisfactory. One from Mr. Grattan was deemed quite the reverse. O'Connell made a speech, complaining of the course pursued by Grattan. Still, however, his old feelmg of admiration for that great Irishman was too strong to be obliterated by any sentiments of temporary vexation. Towards .the end of his address, he said: — " I recall to mind his early and his glorious struggles for Ireland. I know he raised her from degradation, and ex- alted her to her rank as a nation. _ I recollect, too, that if she is now a pitiful province, Grattan struggled and fought for her whilst life or hope remained. I know all this, and more, and my gratitude and enthusiasm for those services will never be extinguished. 436 THE LIFE OF DANIEL o'CONNELL. " But I know, too, that, to use his OAvn phrase of another, ' he was an oak of the forest too old to be transplanted.' " This was what G rattan had said of Flood, refeiTing to his having, in the evening of his life, got a seat in the English House of Commons, where his success as an orator was by no means brilliant. I must pass over a remarkable speech, delivered by our hero at a meeting field in Dublin in furtherance of the restora- tion of Catholic rights, on the 23rd of February, 1815. His son tells us that, among other topics handled, " the ichole case against the Corn I^aws is stated in this speech, briefly, succinctly, power- fully." I shall scarcely pause to notice, in a passing manner, several other meet- ings. On the 23rd and 24th of August, in the same year, the Catholic prelates met, under the presidency of the Most Eev. Dr. Oliver Kelly, and unanimously passed resolutions, to some of which I have already alluded, expressive of their strong conviction that concession to the Crown of England of any power of interference with the appointment of the Catholic bishops would be injurious, if not subversive of the Catholic religion in Ireland. They also resolved that their grateful thanks were due "to tlie Most Rev. Dr. Murray and the Right Rev. Dr. Miluer, their late deputies to Rome, for their zealous and able discharge of the trust reposed in them." On the 29th of the same month, a Catholic aggregate meeting passed resolutions thaukmg the prelates for then- sentiments, praising the conduct of the clergy, and denying (the fourth resolution did this) that the Pope had, or ought to have, any temporal or civil jurisdiction within the realm of Ire- land. To this resolution, which of course strongly denounced the veto arrangement, O'Connell spoke. In this speech he made some remarks on Mr. Peel which pro- duced odd consequences. I shall recur to these expressions and their results before I conclude this chapter. He also mentioned that Dr." Milner, 'strangely enough, had gone round to the veto side again. This statement, however, was contradicted by Dr. Milner; for, on the 14th of September, a letter appeared from that eminent prelate, " repeating his dis- claimers of vetoistical inclinations." In- deed, at a meeting held on the 15th of March in the following year, O'Connell took occasion to withdraw, with many expressions of profound respect, all that had fallen from him, on the occasion just noticed, with reference to the Bishop of Castaballa. O'Connell declared, " that he had since learned that his lordship was steadily adverse to the veto, and had lately opposed it at the court of Rome with his well-known energy and ability." Yet, in his former speech, O'Connell had actually quoted passages, to all appear- ance advocating the veto, from a letter written by Dr. Milner to the Irish bishops. It would be, upon the whole, uninter- esting to enter into any further par- ticulars of the history of the Catholic movement during the years 1815 and 1816. There were, indeed, several other meetings ; committees were appointed for certain ' purposes ; there was a de- putation to Rome on the "securities" question ; there were subscriptions set on foot to defray the ex2:)enses of the deputation ; there was a remonstrance to His Holiness Pope Pius the Seventh, drawn up by O'Connell, which, after vexatious delays, it was found would not be received officially ; there were fresh resolutions against the veto : but from all these efforts nothing definite resulted. " The year 1816," says John O'Connell, " closed without any formal condemna- tion of the veto by the head of the Ca- tholic Church ; and, indeed, with not a few indications of a disposition at the court of Rome to treat the projjosition with more tolerance than had been dreamed of." In 1816, the aspect of the Catholic cause was indeed sombre. The National camp was divided once more. Early in that year, the discouraging spectacle was presented to true lovers of Ireland of two distinct Catholic bodies holding their meetings at the same time in Dublin — the seceders at Lord Trimles- ton's house, and the " Catholic Associa- tion " at Fitzpatrick's, in Capel Street. The first determined to commit the care of their petition, which offered to barter " securities " for emancipation, to Mr. Grattan ; the Association resolved to en- trust their petition for nnqnalijicd eman- cipation to Sir Henry Parnell. Lord Donoughmore represented both sections in the Lords. I may add, that O'Con- nell denounced the seceders vehemently for accusing the prelates of insincerity. "Mr. O'Connell," says his son John, THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 437 " always spoke of this period as one of the most trying of his eventful life. By no kind of means, by no manner of exertion — and he did look about for means, and did use a thousand exertions — could he arouse the Catholics to action^ or even to a defensive position. For more than two years a moral lethargy, a faint-hearted and hopeless apathy, hung over the country, and, with the exception of himself, scarce any one was in the field for Ireland. '' To such an extent did this helpless- ness and inactivity prevail, that even the rent of the rooms in Capel Street, tenanted by the Catholics for the pur- poses of their meetings, was unpaid, until Mr. O'Connell put his hand in his own pocket for the purpose. Resigning them as too expensive, he took smaller rooms in Crow Street, and for a long time discharged all expenses connected with them, and with all that remained of the ' worJdnr/ ' of the Catholic cause. " During this period of depression, had the fell designs of the British minister against the independence of the Catholic Church in Ireland been actively pushed, there is much reason to believe they would have been successful. But wliere human help failed. Divine Pro- vidence interposed to save us. In the higli -flushed pride of her extraordinary successes, England, as it were, forgot Ireland and the schemes for corrupting the Irish mind and heart, which had seemed so important while a chance remained of foreign interference ; or, if she remembered these matters, the idea appeared ridiculous of gomg to any trouble to delude and seduce a people absolutely, and, as she thought, hope- lessly and irremediably, beneath her feet. "The ^ veto 'was therefore abandoned — abandoned at the moment when the chances of forcing it on Ireland were strongest — abandoned when the Catho- licism for which our fathers suffered and died, seemed past human help, and ' the gates of hell ' for a moment seemed about to ' prevail.' "' It may be doubted whether the aris- tocratic seceders did not secretly view with downright complacency the sup- pression of tlie Board. Some of them, at least, entertained revengeful feelings on account of the condemnation of their conduct by that body. Thomas Ken- nedy, who lived in those days, tells us: — " Their spleen arose from a double cause — opposition to the course adopted by the Board, and wounded pride at their own discomfiture ; and a discom- fiture produced by the individual whose influence in that assembly was supposed to be paramount, rendered it the more humiliating to themselves." If, however, the general history of the Catholic body during the years 1rown and Bennett. Thjs day was the 5th. O'Connell and Lidwill were bound in heavy penalties to keep the peace. O'Connell's recognis- ance was £10,000; while Peel and Saxton were lucky enough to escape any such restriction. The sheriff stated, indeed^ that he had repaired to the secretary's lodge, in the Phoenix Park, with the view to arrest Peel, but that neither that gentleman nor Saxton could be found. The object of seekmg to arrest Saxton v/as to prevent him from fighting Lidwill at Calais. On this 5th day of September, Saxton published a statement, in which he tried to pi'ove the veracity of his pub- lished account of the intei-views of himself and his second, Mr. Dickinson, with Mr. Lidwill. That gentleman replied in a letter '-to the people of Ireland," which concluded tlius : " I go to the Continent in your quarrel, for I have none of my own. I go under the heart-rending cir- cumstance of being obliged to put to the test the fortitude of a dearly-beloved and affectionate child, in a delicate state of health, and whose only surviving parent I am, by confiding to her the truth to save the torture of doubt; but I go on behalf of a country in which I drew mv first breath ; I go for a peoi)le the more endeared to me by their misfortunes, and for a cause to Avhich my last words shall bear evidence of my fidelity. I feel no uneasiness for my character in my absence. Wherever I may be, ymirs shall never be tarnished in my person." This affair be- tween two English statesmen on the one side and two Irish popular champions, who were by many suspected of being secretly rebels, on the other, arrayed in. fierce hostility the roused- up feelings of the Irish, who cheered on O'Connell and LidwUl, against those of the English people and the Ascendency faction in Ireland, who sjTnpatliised with Peel and Saxton. The Irish patriotic journals endeavoured to give the affair the dignity of a national quarrel; those of the op- posite party tried to lower it to the ordinary level of a mere personal dispute. At all events, it was the subject of uni- versal discussion and wrangling for the time. Some maintained that O'Connell would equally forfeit his bail by fighting a duel on the Continent or in the British isles. Expresses ivere sent by the authorities to Calais, Dieppe, and Ostend, requesting the foreign magistrates to arrest and send back to England certain British subjects, who had, it was rumoured, gone over to the Continent to fight duels. On the 6th, Peel, Brown, Dickinson, and Saxton sailed from Dublin for England. On the 18th, Bennett writes to Brown, from London, to say that O'Connell and he are getting their passports and shall jiroceed without delay. But the English police were on the alert. One hundred are said to have been sent to the French ports opposite the shores of England. Special despatches from the Home Office ordered aU the mayors to be on the watch to seize O'Connell and Lidwill, whose persons were fully described. Mr. Cuddiliy, a Dublin citizen, who bore a remarkable likeness to O'Connell, and who also, oddly enough, carried on the provision business 44'3 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. on Bachelors' AValk, Dublin, in the very- house owned by the unfortunate D'Es- terre, was arrested for Dan. In Calais, the English police burst into the apart- ment of another gentleman, who had a look of our hero. On Tuesday morning, the 19th of September, at four o'clock, a swarm of policemen filled the apartments of Holyland's Hotel, in the Strand, where the great Agitator was stopping, and succeeded in capturing him just as he was about to step into his chaise for Dover. They' said that old Sir Robert Peel, the secretary's father, had promised them fifty guineas a man, if they should succeed in capturing the formidable Irish chieftain. No wonder that they were in a fierce state of delight. Exulting over their exploit, fortj' picked constables at once conveyed our hero in a coach to Bow Street. He was subsequently bound in recognisances in the King's Bench — himself in £5,000, and two sureties in £2,500 each — to appear before the court when called on. Bennett arrived at Ostend on the 22nd, He at once wrote to Brown, informing him of O'Connell's arrest, and asking him to make an appointment. A Dublin journal of the day insists that the police-magistrates could as easily have secured Peel and Saxton, who were well known in every town through which they passed, as strangers, like Lidwill and O'Connell. endeavouring to conceal them- selves. This paper insists that it was "a regularly-organised phn to tarnish the honour of one party and exhibit the others as men of the most ardent courage." It was " an effort to bolster up the character of a man whom it was intended to pre- serve," A Mr. Becket, too, "the friend and associate and companion in office of Mr. Peel," is " the informer" who causes O'Connell to be arrested, "while he suffers his friend and colleague, Mr. Peel, to pass to France without making any affidavit to justify or obtain an arrest." Lidwill arrived in Dublin on the 28th, and O'Connell on the 29th, by the Holy- head Packet. A short time afterwards, a, gentleman on horseback, who refused to dismount, announced to Sir Charles Saxton, at the Lodge in the Pafk, that liis kinsman, George Lidwill, awaited him in Calais, telling Sir Charles, at the same time, that his own name was Michael Lidv/ill. Sir Charles began to talk in a rambling style, on irrelevant topics. "My commission," said Michael Lidwell, interrupting him, "terminates with the delivery of the message I have just communicated to you." "In that case," replied Sir Charles, "I 'shall wait immediately on Mr. Lidwill at Calais." The baronet set out that very evening. George Lidwill and he met at Calais. Lidwill coolly received his fire, and then said: — "Towards you, sir, I never felt any resentment — I never considered this as a quarrel of my own. Any irritation which my arrest excited in my mind has long since been obliterated. God forbid I should ever retain resentment for liaK the period that has elapsed since my arrest. I respect too sincerely those feelings I witnessed in your anxious parent — feelings which my situation en- ables me to understand — to raise my arm against the object of her solicitude. I think it necessary to give these reasons for my conduct, lest it might be imputed to a conviction -in my own mind that I was in error in my former proceedings. Against any such conclusion I decidedly protest." Lidwill, having thus spoken, fired in the air; he then shook hands with Sir Charles, and so the affair ended. I may remark, before passing to other topics, that to the end of O'Connell's life feelings of enmity subsisted between him and Peel. During the three or four years that followed 1815, the Catholic cause seemed to be in a completely prostrate condition. Repression Avas the order of the day. Peel and his twenty-five thousand Peelers apparently had it all their own way. Still, O'Connell, from time to time, made efforts to keep the spirit of freedonf alive in the people's hearts. The Association, in February, 1816, had spurned the "securities" petition got up by the Trimleston clique. In February, 1817, we find O'Connell again in collision with the vetoists. This "miserable coterie" announced that they would hold a " hug- ger-mugger " meeting on the 4th of that month, at 50 Eccles Street, and that, while they adhered to the principle of their petition of the previous year, they would evince, by their intended measure, " a desire that the general feeling of the Roman Catholic bodg mag, as far as pos- silile, be attended to^ This amusing dis- play of impudence on the part of the Seceders provoked O'Connell and other leaders of the popular section to attend. THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 449 iuid upset the " hole-and-coruer " pro- feedings. In vain were they stopped in the hall by a servant-boy; in vain Lord Southwell referred to a notice in tlie hall, confining the meeting to those who, the year before, had sent tlie petition to Mr. Grattan, and "hoped gentlemen would withdraw." But, "as the public adver- tisement had announced no such reserva- tion, they refused to be bound by this private arrangement." Nicholas Malion opened fire on the astounded little clique, by telling them that he was there " in the assertion of his right as a Catholic, to attend to what was his individual concei-n, as well as that of the body at large, 'and therefore would remain." Neither would O'Connell withdraw. He " entirely denied the right of any portion ci the Catholic body to form themselves into a privileged class, or an Orange lodge, out of which they could exclude any other Catholic looking foi emanci- pation." Besides, he said, he had come in a spirit of conciliation, and to make propositions for Union. After some consultation, a meeting was held; but O'C'onnell's overtures failed to produce tlie desired harmony of action. His advances were rejected. He and his friends then withdrew ; but, ere retiring, lie told them that he had taken away " all colour or shadow of excuse" from their opposition, "that they only sought for dissension and distraction," that their ultimate object was "to increase the coiTupt influence of the ministry, at the expense of the religion and liberty of Ireland." Finally, he said, "their puny efforts for a veto were poor and im- potent." Nevertheless, a "conciliating commit- tee " of Catholics was formed, which issued a. circular proposing, as an arrange- jnent that ought to satisfy all parties — ii plan for the domestic nomination of bishops. This plan resembles the system actually prevailing in Ireland, wherebj^ as John O'Connell says, "the Catholic bishops of Ireland are selected by the i'ope out of a list or lists forwarded to him from the prelates of the province and the clergy of the vacant diocese," Dr. Keman, bishop of Clogher, had re- cently been elected in this way. About this period, a letter from Rome, written by the Rev. Richard Hayes, stated that the hopesof the vetoistical party at Rome, with CWdinal Gonsalvi at their head, had been revived by the coming of "young Wyse, late of Waterford, and a Coun- sellor Ball;" that "these youths had re- peated to the Cardinal, to the Pope, to Cardinal Litta, and other oflicials that ' all the 2:»roperty, education, and respec- tability of the Catholics of Ireland were favourable to the veto; that the clergy were secretly inclined to it, but were overruled by the mob,' etc. etc. * * * It is true tliat Cardinal Litta now abhors the veto more if possible, than any Catholics in Ireland; and- the Pope is resolved to take no step v/ithoufc his advice ; yet you may judge of the intrigue, when the miserable farce of these siUy boys is given the importance of a regular diplomatic mission." Father Hayes then complains of the interruption of his cor- respondence with Ireland in its passage through different countries. " What a combination," he exclaims, "of misfor- tunes — Italian villany, French tyranny, British corruption, vetoistical calumny, and. more than all, apparent Irish neglect'' — have thrown their affairs into the utmost danger. Father Hayes con- cludes by asking to have Dr. Dromgoole and the Rev. Richard McAuley sent to him as coadjutors. This letter was con- sidered at an aggregate meeting, held on March the 6th ; strong resolutions against the veto were j^assed. On this occasion we find Counsellor Stephen Woulfe making a very honourable retractation of his own opinions in favour of the veto, and sharply censuring the conduct of the Seceders. O'Connell explains away a mistake of Mr, Woulfe's: — "Domestic nomination was not a new suggestion, but a return to the ancient practice of the Catholic Church." Letters were ad- dressed to Mr. Grattan, Lord Donough- more, and Sir Henry Parnell, explaining the spirit of the resolutions. Grattan simply wrote an acknowledgment of the receipt of that sent to him; but Lord Donoughmore expressed entire "concur- rence with the sentiments of the majority of the Irish nation," and "abhorrence of any arrangement" that would increase the British ministers' power of corruption. Sir Henry Parnell's reply was also satis- factory. Subsequently a motion was made in the House of Commons to take into consideration the Catholic claims. In the debate that followed, the views of the Catholics with regard to the veto and its substitute, "domestic nomination," were 15 450 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. explained; but, as the war was now at an end, Irish aiTairs were of secondary interest to the British Legislature ; and so the motion was negatived. A respect- ful address, forwarded by the Catholics to their bishops, was responded to with renewed pledges against the vexatious veto. I may as well briefly record the fact, that in the January of this year, 1817, O'Connell gave all the aid in his power to an abortive attempt to establish a Society of "Friends of Reform in Parliament." This Society was composed of Protes- tants and Catholics. Though its members were but few, and its existence brief (a few meetings and dinners took place), John O'Connell claims for it the merit of being the first body, since the Union, in which Irishmen of different creeds "associated on something like terms of equality." I can only glance in the most cursory manner at several other incidents that occurred betv/een the year 1815 and the close of 1820. In the year 1816. JEneas McDonnell, who had been editor of the Cork MercautUe Chronicle, was prosecuted for an article denouncing the mal-admin- istration of justice. Sauiin and O'Con- nell were again pitted against each other ia this case. O'Connell triumphed so far as to procure a postponement of the trial; but finally McDonnell was fined £100, and imprisoned for six months. That bloodhound pursuer, of journalists, Saurin, denounced the liberal press, par- ticularly the Dublin Chronicle, praised the Evening Post for its estrangement from the Catholic movement, called the Catholic body a "dark confederacy" and raved about " the last efifort of expiring Jacob- inism.'' Norbury, too, at the special commission h eld in Tipperary in January, which cost the public £10,000, had'been furious against the Dublin Chronicle for its just attacks on the public prosecutions. When foolish old Judge Day, in passing sentence on McDonnell, assailed him for his bold questioning of the purity of the administration of justice and his de- nunciation of the special commission, McDonnell resolutely interrupted him and said: — "There is not a particle of evidence to support your imputations. * * * Yes, my lords, you have charged me with encouraging assassmation. * * * that charge is wholly unfounded. ■"•- * * I am at least as incapable of entertaining such a disposition as the individual who has imputed it to me." On the 4th of December, 1817, O'Con- nell moved "for a committee to draw up a disavowal of the very dangerous and uncharitable doctrines contained in cer- tain notes to the Rhemish Testament.'* They should record, he said, their "ab- horrence of the- bigoted and intolerant doctrines promulgated in that work. * * * The notes were of English growth." He reminded the meeting that the work was denounced by Dr. Troy. The last busi- ness of the Catholics in 1817 was to forward their remonstrance to the court of Rome, and to receive the report of the Rev. Richard Hayes. "In June, 1818," says John O'Connell. "an answer was at last received from the Court of Rome, and read at a meeting of the Catholic Board on Saturday, the 6th of tliat month." This document stated the rea- sons why an earlier answer had not been given: — "1st. "The sentiments of the court of Rome had been made known to the bishops," as " the more proper channel for the communication." 2nd. "How- ever sincere the assurances of respect on the part of the lay Catholics, there were some phrases used by them, with regard to the extent of the papal authoi'ity, which did not give satisfaction." The answer went on to state, "that the in- tended concession to the British Govern- ment was proposed in what appeared the interest of the Catholic reUgion in these countries, as emancipation, if thereby purcliased, would give , relief to the suffering Catholic body, remove tempta- tions to apostasy, and also impediments to conversion from the dissenting sects." The arrangement, however, was meant to be " only conditional upon the previous passing of the Emancipation Act." In conclusion, this answer justified the pro- ceeiiings against the Rev. Richard Hayes, who, indeed, even while ignorant of its contents, had, with respect to "any point in which it might blame him," expressed "his entire submission and contrition," adding, that he "would supplicate pardon from His HoUness." Messrs. O'Connell, Lanigan, McDonnell, Scully, Ilowley (afterwards Sergeant Howley and assis- tant-barrister of Tipperary) and "Woulfe were appointed as a committee to con- sider Avhat steps should be taken in this matter. I must notice, in nassinir, a grand THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 451 public dinner to the Irish national bard, Thomas I^ I core, the immortal author of the Mt'.dd'u's and Lalla Rookh, of whirh O'Connell was the chief promoter, and at wliich the Earl of Charlemont pre- sided. This banquet took place on the Sth of June, 1818. To the toast of ''The IManaging Committee," there was a general cry for O'Connell to respond. His speccli was broad and liberal. It was refrcsliing to see men of every party at the banquet. There would be more harmony "if Irishmen would recollect that there were generous, kindly, brave, and good men of every party." Noble qualities " did in fact live and reside, as in a chosen hom.e, in the bosoms of Irishmen of every faction, sect, and per- suasion." (Loud cheers.) INIoore he stjded, amid loud applause, "the sweet- est poet, the best of sons, and the most exquisite Irishman living." In conclu- sion, he would like to exert himself for the benefit of all Irishmen. " He was a party man, to be sure; but it was his misfortune, not his fault, to be so. lie, however, belonged to the party of the oppressed and excluded; and if he had been ,born in Madrid or in Constan- tinople, he vowed to God he would in either place be more intemperate and violent for the protection of the perse- cuted Protestant in the one, and of the trampled-down Christian in the other." (Continued applause.) A dinner was given to O'Connell him- self at Tralee, the chief town of his native countv, Kerry, on Monday, the 24th October, 1818, at the Mail-Coach Hotel. Never was so great a concourse of gentry of all parties seen in Kerry. The whole first floor of the hotel was thrown into one. Still there was want of room for the company. About thirty bad to dine in one of the parlours. When — his health having been drunk enthusiastically — O'Connel rose to re- spond, he was almost overpowered by strong feelings. As usual, he expressid a generous delight at seeing even a momentary union among Irishmen. "Where," he exclaimed, "are intoler- ance, and bigotry, and religious rancour now? * * * Would to God that the honest men in England * * * could see how kindly tlie Trotestant cheers the Catholic ailvocate, and how affectionately the Catholic repays the kindness of his Protestant friends ! " Tlie applause that greeted these words was vehement and long continued. " My political creed," said our hero, "is short and simple. It consists in believing that all men are entitled, as of right and justice, to religious and civil liberty. * * * Re- ligion is debased and degraded by human interference. * * * Such are my sentiments — such are yours." Some of the toasts drunk at this meeting are worth recording, such as, " Prosperity to old Ireland;" " Mr. Secretary Grant and universal toleration" (three times three; much cheering) ; " Civil and religious liberty to all mankind;" "The cause of rational liberty all over the globe." O'Connell proposed this one at the close of his response to his o-\vn health. He also, amid great applause, in spite of their political differences, responded warmly when the health of his brother- Kerryman, old "Judge Day, as an excellent land- lord, an affectionate friend, and a good man," was drimk. The healths of "The Rev. Stephen Creagh Sandes and the Protestants of Kerry" and "The Right Rev. Dr. Sugrue and the Roman Catholic clergy of Kerry" were drunk heartily. The name of Stephen Henry Rice was coupled with "The pure and impartial administration of justice.'' (Three times three; great applause.) "Sir Samuel Romilly and. the persecuted Protestants of France," and " The patriots of South America, and a speedy and eternal extinc- tion to the Inquisition.'' These two toasts were drunk with acclamn,tions ; but when " The bard of Erin, Thomas Moore," was proposed, the enthusiaiin of the company wa,s simply indescribable. I suppose, at that convivial moment, every man present would have shed the last drop of his blood on the spot for Tommy, just as Dickens tells us Ttlrs. Todgers's boarders, at a certain period of the night, on a memorable festive' occasion, would have died to a man for that estimable lady. "The Duke of Leinster and the resident nobility of Ire- land;" "The Earl of Charlemont, the hereditary patriot of the Irish nobility;" " The glorious and inmiortal memory of John Philpot Curran ; " " Charles Philips, cotipied with the independence of the Irish bar;" "The president and free people of North America — may they be bound in the bonds of eternal unity with these countries ; " " Universal benevo- lence ; " O'ConneU's uncle, " Old Hunting- 452 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. cap ; '' his more distinguished uncle, •' Lieutenant - General Daniel Count O'Connell;" — all these and many mor6 toasts, good, bad, and nidifferent, were drunlc rapturously, m o'erflowing glasses, on that jovial and harmonious night. If, haply "the mirth and fun grew fast and furious " after " the witching hour," good- fellowship prevailed to the last. On " this great vhjht for Ireland," John Bernard, Esq., of Ballynaguard, presided. The vice - president was John Stack, Esq , of Ballyconry. No doubt, both fulfilled their duties worthily, not with- out a due share of Irish jollity. At the general elections of 1818, O'C^onnell exerted himself to procure the return of the Right Hon. Maurice Fitz- gerald, the knight of Kerry^ for that county The knight now regretted that he had voted for the ruinous and accursed Act of Union, seemg the hoUowness of the promises which had been made by the ministers of the Crown to procure its enactment. " I voted for the Union," saj-^s the knight, "to guard agamst the possible re-enactment of the penal laws, which u'Cis contemjilated ; to procure the extinction of mischievous political and religious distinctions among my country- men;'' also, to obtain a safer support to the Protestant (.hurcli ■' than the present tithe-system, more injurious to its clergy than even to the Catholic farmer." A meeting of the Catholics of the parishes of 8t. Andrew's, vSt. Aime's, and St. Mark's was held on the 27th of January, 1819, in Townsend Street Chapel, Dublin, to express their gratitude for a creditable demoustration of the liberal Protestants of Ireland that had taken place at the Rotunda. O'Connell, in a temperate, sensible, and eloquent speech, proposed the resolutions. " He hailed in glowing language the dawn of friendship and affection which has at length broken in upon Irishmen. He gave Earl Talbot's" (Earl Talbot ivax now the viceroy') "admin- istration the praise of neutraliii/, at least upon the present momentous and memor- able occasion." A few weeks after (Monday, March 1, 1819). an aggregate meeting was held in the old chapel in Mary's Lane, to express, in the most marked manner. Catholic gratitude to the Protestants who had come forward to petition in tlieir behalf. The Earl of Fingal was in the chair. The journals of the day tell us that it was "the largest and most respectable meeting of Catho- lics which ever took place in Ireland." O'Connell especially praised the Duke of Lemster; "the Earl of Meath, always a friend and patron of Ii-eland; Charlemont, whose name was music to Irish ears; Grattan, whose eloquence and virtue raised Ireland into independence and liberty — the old patriot Grattan, who had given Ireland all she had, and would have made her all she ought to be." He said that the corporation possessing- " such a man as their friend Alderman McKenny at its head, could not be desti- tute of virtue." Instead of the ofiice of lord-mayor conferrmg dignity on him, "the man has conferred dignity on the office. * * * Let Catholics continue to deserve, and Protestants to reward with their good wishes and confidence, and the motto of Ireland in future ho ' God and our native land!'" In 1819, a General D'Evereuxcippearcd in Dublin to raise a legion (the soldiers of this legion were called the " Patriots") to aid the revolted colonists of .Sout'fi America against the Spaniards. It is not properly within the scope of my subject to do much more than slightly ^efer to this movement, in which O'Connell took so great an interest as to accept a com- mission, m a Hussar regiment of the legion, for his second son, Morgan, then quite a lad. Gayly-attended mihrary levees were held at Morrison's Hotel, and pubhc dinners given to celebrate this affair and complmient the movers. At these proc^eecUngs our hero took a pro- minent part. Nothing could exceed the popularity of this movement for a time. Visions of the golden realms of Peru, if not Eldorado itself, seized entire possession of the Irish imagination. Adventurous youths wei'e eager to procure commissions in the legion from General D'Evereux or General Gregor McGregor, who accom- panied him. Dublin was on fire with military excitement. The British Govern- ment shewed no disposition to enforce the " Foreign Enlistment Act." Young Morgan O'Connell sailed for South America the following year (1820), under the care and attached to the personal staff of General D'Evereux. But ui America disappointment and disaster awaited the Irish adventurers, already half-starved on the voyage. Some, in- deed, eventually won high renown under tlie banner of Bolivar, and contributed TUE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 453 nobly to the final success of the revolu- tion. The character of D'Evereux has naturally boon the subject of much con- troversy. Tlionias Kennedy is inclined to deny that he possessed genuine cre- dentials autliorising his proceedings in Dublin. He says the authorities acting under the Provisional Government of Venezuela refused to recognise his com- missions; he accuses him of "dastardly flight from those v^'ho returned to call him to account for his breach of all engagements." He even asserts that "a secret communication" existed between him and Lord Liverpool; and that he was merely employed "as the vile instru- ment to drain this country" (Ireland) " of those military spirits whose presence was regarded with feelings of apprehen- sion by the Liverpool administration." On the other hand, O'Connell, his son Morgan. Father O'MuUane — who followed O'Connell in the duel with D'Esterre, and followed his son to South America — all insisted on D'Evereux's in- tegrity from first to last. At a tumultuous meeting of the enraged friends of " the Patriots," O'Connell braved a tempest of hisses and hootings, while maintaining that the general was a man of unsullied honour. Fagan, in his Life of O^Cmmell, says: — "The bond Jide nature of D'Eve- reux's commission was subsequently estab- lished beyond all doubt, when, in 1823, he returned to Ireland in possession of full power and ample means to satisfy the claims of his disappointed followers." As far as a very imperfect examination of the history of this smgular transaction can justify me in expressing an opinion on the merits of the case, I too, am inclined to believe that D'Evereux, however unlucky or deceived, acted all through in good faith. Lieutenant -General D'Evereux spent his latter days in Paris, highly respected. He was a native of the United States, of Irish parentage. His character was energetic, his appearance martial. In October, 1819, O'Connell wrote a letter to the Catholics of Ireland, in which he complimented Alderman McKenny as the first Lord-mayor of Dublin who had presided at a meeting " calculated to promote cordial conciliation." On the 24th of February, 1820, he gave it as his legal opinion '■ that a Catholic is capable of being sub -sheriff." This year the glorious patriot, Henry Grattan, died. O'Connell, forgetting the breach that had so long severed them, magnanimously burying in oblivion many hard things said and written by Grattan against him, warmly su))ported, at the Royal Exchange meeting, held on the 13th of June, 1820, the claims of young Grattan to the re])re- scntation of the city of Dublin against those of Ellis the Orangeman, He called the dead patriot "the greatest man Ire- land ever knew * * « ' He watched by the cradle of his country's freedom — he followed her hearse.' His life, to the very period of his latest breath, has been spent in her service, and he died, I may even say, a martyr in her cause. Who shall now prate to me of religious animosity? To any such I will say, ' There sleeps a man, a member of the Protestant com- munity, who died in the cause of his Catholic countrymen!' * * * Let us unite to put down bigotry ; * * * let us rally around that cause" (oui- country^s), " and let our motto be, Grattan and Ireland!" It was O'Connell, too, who originated the idea of the statue of Grat- tan, by Sir Francis Chantrey, that now stands in the hall of the Iloyal Exchange, Dublin. On the 22d of January, 1822, he took a prominent part at a meeting in the Exchange to promote its erection. He moved a resolution, which the wealthy Catholic salesmaster, Billy Murphy, se- conded. On the 22d of June, 1820, at the adjourned Catholic meeting, held at D'Arcy's, in Essex Street, O'Connell made some objections to the celebrated Plunket's being entrusted with their peti- tion, on account of his extreme advocacy of the " securities." At this meeting O'Connell complained of the use by the liberal Edinburgh Revimi of such expres- sions as the " harlot embraces" of the Catholic Church. While he was speak- ing, some one in the body of the meeting cried out, "Why go to them" (meaiiin/j to the English Parliament) " at all? " Prob- ably this was one of the war party, that ever lives, in greater or less force, in Ire- land, ever hostile in Parliamentary action, ever longing for the day of total separa- tion from L;ngland by force of arms. On the 14th of July, 1820, O'Connell published an address in the newspapers, offering himself as a candidate for the office of recorder. However, he never obtained that office. About the same time, at a public dinner at " D'Arcy's Great Room, Corn Exchange," a room famous in the history of many subsequent 454 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. Irish national movements, he spoke touch- ingly of another of our glorious dead, who, "with the bayonet to his breast, was true to humraiity and to his clients, advocating the cause of those victims he coidd not save." He lamented as a dis- grace to Ireland (a disgi-ace wiped out now, however) that there was "not a stone to mark the spot were sleeps John Philpot Curran ; and even in the country that he loved, there is nothing as yet to record his -name !" He then gave, " The memory of John Philpot Cmaan." * CHAPTER XX. The Kilmamliam Court-houpo Mpetin?;: Outrageous and Unconstitutional Piooeedings of the Sheriff — O'Conni il".s Au)usini; Controversy with Richard Lalor i>'n\e\ — O'Conuell Threateus to Join tho English Radical rct'ormeis — William ConjTagham Piunket's Relief Bills— O'Conuell Opposes thenj— Rude Inteuuption of O'Connell at a Catholii.- Meeting — Advances from the Orange Corporation to tlie Catholics — Orange Breach of Faith — The Visit of King George tlie Fourth to Ireland; his Enthusiastic Reception by the People — The Visit turns out a Mockery ami Delusion; Disappoint- ment of Catholic Hopes — The Irish Avatar — Ar- rival of an Irish Viceroy, the Marquis Wellesley — His Conciliatory Demeanour — A Confused Meeting —Famine in tne South and West of Ireland- Coercive Measures — Orange Display — Repeal of the Union — Suicide of Lord Londonderry (Castle- reagh)— Bottle Kiot— Public Indignaiiou— Trial of the Hondhiiiiges and Graham — Colonel "Wh;te s Election for the Co.irty Dublin ; Great Popular Excitement— Law-c;if^i's— O'Connell Visits France —An Uiipleasiint Night-Adventure. On the requisition of 'the Government party, who were anxious to get up an address in approval of George the Fourth's recent persecution of his ■wife. Queen Caroline, a meeting was held in Kilmain- ham Court-house, near Dublin, on the 30th of December, 1820. The sheriff (Steele) aided by a large force of police, tried shamefully to pack the meeting, forcibly excluding numbers of most re- spectable freeholders. The crowd, how- ever, burst in and thronged the room, so that the sheriff, to the great amusement of the spectators, had to get able-bodied policemen to lift Lords Howth and Frankfort, and several others, in on chairs, through a baek window. The conduct of the sheriff was outrageous : * The books to which I am chiefly indebted for the materia'sof the foregoing chapterare— John Mitchel's Conlimmliim of MiGfoghegan; Thf Sdwt Speec/ifS of Daniel O'Co ne/l, A/. P., edited, with Uistorkal Notices, etc., by his sou, John 0'i.'onuell, Esq. ; Life and Tiiihs of Daniel OCovnell. vith Hwtc/iesof/ii' Contemporaries, Dublin, John JlulL.ny, 1 Pailianifnt Street; Pagan's Life of O'Connell; Shiel's Sktiches of the Irish Bar, etc. he nominated a committee to prepare an address, and then declared tha address adopted, in opposition to the overwhelm-' ing majority of those present. He threat- ened to expel persons, as not being freeholders, who actuaUy were so. He asked O'Connell, who objected to these irregular proceedings, was he a freeholder of Dublin? To which O'Connell answered that he was — that his hereditary property was larger than the sheriff's own, and that his profession gave him an income greater than that which any of those sur- rounding "the chair were able to "wring from the taxes." Against the "wishes of those assembled, the sheriff arbitrarily declared the meeting dissolved. He threatened to commit the patriotic Lord Cloncurry to prison, when that nobleman, called to the chair by the people, said he would " obey their commands," protested against the sheriff's illegal conduct, and declared, amid boimdless applause, '' that in support of the law he was ready to perish in the chair, and that nothing but force should tear him from it." O'Con- nell said, if the prison were large enough, they would all accompany Lord Clon- curry. The sheriff then said the meeting was illegal. O'Connell vehemently de- clared that it was quite legal, and called on such freeholders as valued their rights to remain. The furious sheriff, who had already -vdolently declared that "he would call in the military," now withdrew in order to falfil his threat. Though per- fect order and decoi'um prevailed, a side- door was thrown open Avith a crash ; an officer and soldiers rushed in, and com- manded the freeholders to disp'erse. Some violence was used to indi"viduals, though, upon the whole, the military shewed good temper. Mr. Curran (doubtless, the late John Adye Curran, or some other son of the immortal orator's) stood by Lord Cloncurry, and good-humouredly thrust the soldier's bayonets aside. That nobleman had to be forced out of the chair. The officer drew or was drawing his sword. The freeholders next assem- bled in vast crowds on the opposite side of the road. A chair was placed for Lord Cloncurry in the passage of a house, to ev-ade the law, which then made open- air meetings illegal. An amended ad- dress, proposed by Mr. Burne, K.C., and seconded by our hero, was carried by acclamatioji. This" address, referring to " the late proceedings in the House of THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 455 Lords" against the unfortunate Caroline, expresseii a sincere hope ■' that proceed- ings so dangerous and unconstitutional would never be revived in any shape." O'Conncll moved that a committee should be apijointod to lay before the viceroy, Earl Talbot, ''the outrageous and illegal conduct of the sheriff on that day." On the 2d of January, 1821, a meeting, pre- sided over by Hamilton Rowan, who had been pardoned so early as the year 1805, was held at the Corn Exchange Rooms (then D'Arcy's tavern), "to consider the best steps to be taken as to the outrage on Saturday i'-1 not to direct his sneers against the •• faithful, the long - suffering, and very wretched people of Ireland." O'CbnneJl's threat of imiting with the English reformers alarmed the Govern- ment and legislature. Measures were adopted to divert his attention from the reform movement which was agitating Englishmen. Plunket carried a Catholic relief bill through the Commons. It was lost, however, in the House of Lords. The fact of a relief bill passing in the Commons revived the hopes of the Catholics, though the majority of them were glad that this particular measure failed to become law. O'Connell, in long and able letters to the people, pronounced Plunket's two bills, taken together (for there were two), to be "abominable," and "horribly cruel to the Catholic clergy." The first, indeed, if unaccompanied by the second, would give relief ; but the second was " more strictly, literally, and emphatically a penal and persecuting bill than any or all the statutes passed in the darkest and most bigoted periods of the reign of Queen Anne, or of the first two Georges. Its title should be. An Act to 'de catholicise' Ireland; for that is certainly its object." On the subject of these bills there was considerable angry discussion among the Catholics. We have now arrived at the period of George the Fourth's visit to Ireland. O'Connell wished the Catholics to take the " occasion of their preparations for the king's visit" to consider the state of their affairs. But Lords Fingal, Netter- ville, Govmanstown, and Killeen. with Sir John Burke, Mr. Bagot and others, pub«- lished a protest against "connecting the general question of Catholic affairs with the object of voting a congratulatory address" to the king. O'Connell, to promote harmony, yielded, and adopted their requisition for a meeting, instead of his own. In order to secure for the king a good reception in Ireland, vague and deceitful promises to the Catholics heralded his coming. Even the Orange corporation of Dublin made for the time a false but specious show of good feeling to their Catholic countrymen. The Catholics met their advances in a warm and gener- ous spirit. A sort of promise was made by the Orange mayor of Dublin, Abraham Bradley King, that the annual insult to the Catholics of dressing out King- William's statue with orange, ribbons should be omitted this year, as a con- ciliatory offering. This engagement, however, was disgracefully violated ou THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 457 the 12th of July, on which occasion, accoTfling to the descriptioris of Mr. Costelloe and other eye-witnesses, the Orange mob. with respectable and sober citizens among them, dressed tlie statue in the morning, while in the evening a ragged, but well-armed, infuriated, half- drunken mob groaned the chief secretary as " Popish Grant," and were abetted in their disorderly conduct by several sol- diers of the 12th Lancers, brandishing their sabres and vociferating, "Down with the Papists ! " "To hell with the Pope ! " "To hell with Popish defenders!" "The Pope in a pillory in hell, and the devil pelting O'Connell at him!" "To hell with O'Gorman!" etc. In spite of all this, the irritation of the Catholics was apparently but of momentarj' duration. At two meetings they debated concerning this outrage with considerable modera- tion, and even gave the lord-mayor credit for sincerity, to use Lord Fingal s expres- sion, "in his original offer of conciliation." O'Connell concurred in this view; indeed, in his speeches, he shewed the most re- markable desire to be on terms of amity even with the Orange faction. George the Fourth landed at Howth on the 12th of August, 1821, and drove at once to the viceregal lodge in the Phoenix Park amid the roar of artillery and the ringing of joy-bells. His wife had just died. This, however, was proba- bly a source of rejoicing to his wicked heart. He remained in seclusion for several days. On the 17th of August he made his public entry into his Irish capi- tal. The ceremony of presenting the keys was gone through, according to ancient forms, at the end of Sackville Street. A barrier of green boughs inter- laced, with a gate .in the middle, stretched across that magnificent street. After a parley, the mayor consented to open the gate and welcome the king, when asked to do so, in due form, by the Athlone pursuivant. His majesty was completely astounded at the vision which now met his gazef as he was borne in his chariot along Sackville Street. That spacious street was packed from end to end with a dense mass of human beino-s that seemed innumerable, f^very window was crowded ; temporary balconies in front of the houses were crowded; the roofs of the houses and public buildings were crowded. "The post-office," to quote another life of 0"','onnell, "even to the most perilous projection of the building, was black with human beings. The very arcliilrave was crowdrd with well-dressed females; and on the summit of Nelson's monument men were perched upon the very capstan which supports the statue of the naval victor." The king had always professed a kindly feeling towards his Irish subjects. He was almost the only English sovereig-n who had ever come to Ireland in friendly guise. The people, too, were just then deluded into believing that they were on the point of being emancipated. Be- sides, they were excitable, and " the cherished lure of pomp" easily beguiles tlie imaginations of Irishmen. Is it, then, so very wonderful that for the moment they went mad? that those myriads on the earth, on the balconies, in the windows, on the roofs, wei'e wild with insane delight and what seemed genuine enthusiasm? Nor is it even astonishing that the withered heart and worn-out feelings of the royal profligate seemed for an instant, as if he had drained some charmed cup, to shew signs of reviving freshness, when he heard such glad and lusty cheering as had never rung through his ears before — when he saw the hats and handkerchiefs of innumerable devoted subjects, stalwart men and fair- est women, waving " cead mille fail the'" — saw, in short, joy at his coming gleaming on thousands and myriads of eager faces. This was the one triumphant day of his worthless life. He was deeply moved — ay, almost to tears. That hour, in his self-delusion, he may have fancied him- self almost a demigod. And, no doubt, in mere outward semblance, he .was " every inch a king." Right royally he saluted the admiring myi'iads, who felt a_ treble foolish joy, and shouted like the very thunder when they saw the huge bunch of shamrocks decorating the mili- tary hat which their sovereign lifted at short intervals with such princely grace. Such a magnificent spectacle was never witnessed in Dublin before. Through the long narrow space kept clear in the centre of the street, with a dense wall of human beings on each side, the royal procession moved in pomp along. Be- hind the king followed nobles, gentry, professions, corporations, trades, with tiieir gorgeous banners waving overhead, magniticent equipages, horsemen splen- didly mounted. All these had gone from 45S THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. the Castle to the Park that morning, in order to swell the royal train, and now encircled half the citj. To look back, the advancing files seemed endless. On Carlyle bridge the pressure was fearful. On through Westmoreland Street, College Green, and Dame Street, the king passed to the Castle. The sums lavished by the Irish during the royal visit were enormous. All were seized with the factitious enthusiasm, which_ lasted till the king returned to England, in September. O'Connell made as much parade of loyalty as the rest. To gratify the king's desire, conveyed before his arrival by Sir Benjamin Bloom- field, " that all differences and animo- sities should be laid aside," a dinner took place at ISIorison's, where the leaders of the Catholics and the Orange faction dined together, and toasted each other with two exuberant protestations of eter- nal friendship. O'Connell and Orange Grand-master Ellis were quite affectionate each to the other. O'Connell gives him- self immense credit for his policy in connection with the royal visit. He seems to think it was '■ most success- ful." Many will take a different view of the matter. He seems to think it was necessary to make great display of loyalty to the corrupt - hearted king. "For the first time," he says, '-for two centuries were the Catholics received by the executive en terms of perfect equalitj' with the Protestants. The Catholic pre- lates were received by the king in their ecelesiastical costume, with their golden crosses and chains. It was the first official recognition of theii' dignity as prelates. To the Earl of Fingal, as head of the Catholic laity, the ribbon of the Order of St. Patrick was given at an installation at which the king himself presided. The rest of the Catholic laity were received and cherished precisely as the Protestants were ; and, to crown all, the celebrated Sidmouth letter was issued, full of present kindness and gratitude to the Catholics, and of future hope and expectation of conciliation — a conciliation which everybody knew could never be effected without legal and perfect equal- isation of political rights." This letter was a mere "palavering" letter, written by Lord Sidmouth to the viceroy, in accordance with the king's directions, expressing his affection "to his faitliful people of Ireland," recommending them to be united, and tickling them a little with " humbugging " praises of their " generosity and warmth of heart." O'Connell, meanwhile, remained per- fectly satisfied with his own management on this occasion. He considered himself entitled to " the gratitude and confi- dence " of his countrymen for his triumph over "the difficulties he had to encoun- ter," and for " the mode in which he was enabled to convert the king's visit to Ireland from being a source of weakness and discomfiture to the Catholics into a future claim for practical relief and political equalisation." He also says, "His Majesty was the first monarch that ever shewed a friendly feeling towards poor Ireland ; and when he came among us, his regal court presented Catholics and Protestants as they should ever be, united." Speaking of the friendly over- tures from the Ascendency corporation, he says: — " Two days after the statue was dressed ! 'We remonstrated, and there was something about promises for the future. There were many amongst us who did not believe those promises. I must own that I was one who put no faith -in them, though 1 j^retended I did. We]l, I got into the den — Daniel in the lion's den ; ay, into the midst of the cor- poration. Some, who had more candour than I possessed at that period, did not attend the dinner." He then speaks of the baronetcy which, at the close of the royal visit, was conferred on the mayor, Abraham Bradley King, as due to the conciliatory resolution of the corporation. Many will regard much of O'Connell's clever policy, during the progress of these events, as little deserving of admiration. It was all the better for His Majesty, however. The Catholics, like their leader, overflowed with demonstrative loyalty, and were too considerate of their sove- reign's comfort to "bother" him at such a time with their wearisome complaints and grievances; so that the old rake of royalty spent his unruffled time in Dublin right gaily and pleasantly. • Thirty lords and Protestant bishops .signed a requisition, and held a meeting at the Exchange, at which it was moved by LordCarbery, and seconded by Colonel (Juffe, that a palace should be built for George in Ireland. It was modestly proposed to squeeze a million of money from the impoverished Irish for this pur- pose. O'Connell (it is hard to tell it THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 459 without ridicule) promised to contribute twenty guineas a-year towards the erec- tion of the regal pile. O'Connell, too, was one of the very few who attended the committee after the kmg's departure. Of course, the design was never realised. It was time to have done with the project when the committee found it impossible to make one of the judges pay the sub- scription of thirty guineas, which he had promised while- the kmg was in Ireland. Human gcege have since, from time to time, suggested the erection of a royal palace in Ireland as a sure means of regenerating the nation. Such proposals, however, mvariably lead to nothing. In Dublm, however, the King's Bridge, over the Liffey, was erected to commemorate tl^e royal visit. O'Connell took an active part in urging on this so-called national testimonial. He recommended a bridge in preference to an arch, a statue, a pyra- mid, or a column. But it was on the day of the king's de- parture, at half-past seven, on a bright morning in September, that O'Connell signalised hunseK by his most exag- gerated demonstrations of loyalty to the unclean being who then swayed the British sceptre. He presented, on bended knee, a laurel crown to His Majesty in a tent. The king deceived it graciously enough, and offered the great Agitator his htmd to kiss. The anti-Irish papers of London ridiculed O'Connell for his servility. They described him as literally following the king into the sea, and kbeeling in the Vr'ater to present the wreatli. O'Connell had adopted the fashion of wearing a sealskin cap with a gold band like the king's. " Counsellor O'Connell," said a London paper, shortly after the king's departure, " is now ti'a veiling on circuit with a fur cap and a gold band, which, he says, is a present from the king, who certainly wore such a cap and band on his landing in Ireland." Our hero thought it necessary to deny the veracity of these ugly impeachments. So far was he, he maintained, ' fj'om having been "unbe- comingly servile " on the occasion of presenting the wreath, " that he did not even kiss the hand which the kmg held out to liim for that purpose." Of course, he unequivocally denied his having ever asserted that he had got the cap from the king. His ivlajesty had been looldng at some of the beautiful scenery of Wicklow on the morning of his departure from old Dunleary. Crowds, as great as those that had welcomed him to Ireland, as- sembled in Dunleary to see him off, with far more good wishes and blessings than the old sinner merited. He seemed pro- foundly affected. He even shed tears. As the royal yacht conveyed him away, the old dandy, in his blue frock-coat and white vest and sealskin cap with the gold band, was seen gazing through his teles- cope at the shores of Ireland. lie saw thousands upon thousands of the Irish blackening the hills, while they waftsd good wishes after him on the winds. The royal squadron sailed past Brayhead and the bold coast of romantic Wicklow. Tlie king to the last kept his gaze fixed on the shores he was never to see again. The name of Dunleary was changed or degraded into Kingstown. An obelisk marks the spot where the king stood pre- vious to his going on board. And so ended the visit of the " first gentleman" (or first scamp?) "of Europe" to his loving subjects, the Irish. That very soft-hearted people found out almost immediately after that they had been deluded by a glamorous fairy-show — a mere splendid pageant, an extravaganza with magnificent transformation scenes. The king shewed no real disposition whatever to redress the grievances of the Catholics ; though we learn from Horace Twiss's Memoirs of Lord Eldon that, at one moment, " he hath believed Idimelf that he teas sincere, to the great consternation of Lord Eldon and his associates, who at once hastened the measures for his departure." " The Orange party," says John O'Con- nell, " who had signalised themselves by not refraining from their shibboleth of the ' giox'ious, pious, and immortal me- mory,' even at the corporation dinner to the king (though, of course, not pro- posed till after he had left the room), laughed in their sleeves at this letter" (Sidmouth''s). "The Catholics took it in earnest, and set about preparing to meet it in what they deemed a corresponding spirit, having summoned meetings and prepared the outlines of an organisation for the purpose, which was intended to include men of every class and shade of opinion. But the illusion about con- cihation was soon over, the corporation having lost no time in dispelling it, by renewing their old Orang"e orgies withia 460 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O'CONNELL. one month after the king's departure.'' The year following this unsubstantial pageant, all the grim realities of famine were spreading ghastlj' horror over the unfortunate island. On this visit of King George the Fourth to Ireland, Lord Byron wrote some verses, entitled " The liusii Avatar,'" characterised by a terrible intensity of bitterness. Of course, he lashes the kmg unsparingly : but he lashes the Irish people and their great leader, O'Con- nell, too. I sliall give a few stanzas of this poem, written as a retaliation on Moore for his attacks on the Carbonari : — "But he comes ! tlie Messiah of royalty comes! Like a goodly leviathan rolled from the waves ; Then receive him as best such an advent becomes — With a legion of cooks and an army of slaves. " He comes in the promise and bloom of threescore, To perform in the pageant the sovereign's part; But Ions; live the shamrock which shad: ws him o'er, Could the green ill bis hat be transferred to his heart ! " Could that long-wither'd spot but be verdant agai ■, And a new spring of noble affections arise, Then might Freedom forgive thee this dance in thy chain, And this shout of thy slavery which saddens the skies. " Is it madness or meanness which clings to tliee now? "Were lie god, as he is but the commonest clay, "With scarce fewer wrinkles tiian sins on his brow, Such servile devotion might shame him away. ****** " Let the poor, squall'd splendour thy wreck can afford (As the bankrupt's profusion hi=i ruin would hide) Gild over the palace. Lol Erin, thy lord! Kiss his foot with tliy blessing for blessings denied ! " 'Wear, Fingal, thy trapping! O'Gonnell, pi-oclaim His accomphshments! — his!!! and thy country convince Half an age's contempt was an error of fame, And that ' Hal is the rascalliest, sweetest young prince ! ' " Will thy yard of blue ribbon, poor Pingal, recall The fetters from miUions of Catholic limbs ? Or has it not bound thee the fastest of all The slaves who now hail their betrayer with hymns? " Ay, ' build him a dwelling; ' let each give his mite, Till, like Babel, the new royal dome hath arisen; Let thy beggars and helots their pittance unite, And a palace bestow for a poorhouse and prison ! " Spread, spread for Vitellius the royal repast, Till the gluttonous despot be stuffed to the gor?e, And the roar of his drunkards proclaim him at last, The fouith of the fools and oppressors called 'George! '" The noble poet then goes on to say : — "Let the wine flow around the old bacchanal's throne. Like their blood which has flowed and which yet has to flow." After this he calls Castlereagh his Sejanus. He wonders that Ireland, instead of blushing for Castlereagh's birth, seems j^roud now of that reptile, without one ray of her genius, without "the fancy, the manhood, the fire of her race." She might well doubt she ever produced such "a reptile." "'If she did,'' it appears that, contrary to her proverbial boast, she can produce a "cold-blooded ser- pent." The welcome of tyrants has plunged Ireland lower than even misfor- tune and tyranny could. This bitter poem concludes thus : — " Til! now I had envied thy sons and their shore: Though tlieii virtues were hunted, ihair hberties fled, There was something so warm and sublime in the coi-e Of an Irishman's heart, ihat I envy — thy dead. "Or, if aught in my bosom can quench for an hour My coMtPtnpt foi a nation so servile, tliough sore, Which, though trod like the worm, will not turn upon power, 'Tis the glory of Gu.xttan and genius of Moore." On the 7th of January, 1822, at D'Arcy's, a Catholic meeting was held, for the purpose of presenting an address to the new viceroy, the JVJarquis of Wel- lesley. Lord Fingal was in the v.hair. O'Connell proposed and Shiel seconded an addi-ess submitted by the latter gentleman. The arrival of the marquis had given unbounded satisfaction to the vast majority of the Irish people., both on account of his being the first Irish- man ajipointed for centuries to the vice- regal office, and because of his shining l^ersonal qualities. The Orangemen, indeed, were furious at his appointment O'Connell dAvelt on the "classical elo- quence" and "splendid talents" of the marquis, also on the fact that "'at the interesting and eventful period of 1782" the marquis " was the first person to raise a volunteer corps, in which a pi'incipJe of exclusion to persons professing their creed was not acted upon, countenanced, and cherished.'' (Much applause) Such a man would not by his presence encourage offensive toasts. " Since the arrival," continued O'Connell, " of the noble marquis in this country, impor- tant events had taken place, which pre- sented renewed and augmented claims to their gratitude. IVlr. i^lunket, the elo- quent and powerful advocate of their civil rights at. least, was at that moment, if not actually, certainly potentially, the first officer of the law in Ireland. This THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNJCLL, 461 was an appointment at which they had niucli reason to rejoice, not only because their friend had been advanced, but also because, by that appointment, Mr. Saurin ceattcd to be chief governor of Ireland^ Loud acclamations greeted this announce- ment of the rise of Plunket and fall of Saurin. O'Connell also alluded to the elevation of Solicitor- General Bushe to the dignity of chief- justice of the King's Bench. He praised his talents. He had never leagued with any party " in a system and determination to oppress his Koman Catholic countrpnen." If he sometimes helped to prosecute individuals, on such occasions in him were " always found united the talents of the orator and tlie feelings of the gentleman. He never left a sting of angry sentiment be- hind. * * * It had been even said in the House of Commons by the official organ of Government, that ' if the Ca- tholics were to be persecuted, he was not the man to do it.' " The Catholic address was graciously received by the Marquis of Wellesley. Perhaps it was a special object of Wellesley's policy to prevent O'Connell from forming an alliance with the English Reformers. At all events, the reception of O'Connell by the marquis, when -'the Man of the People ' made his first attempt to play the part of courtier at the viceregal levee, was m the highest degree flattering It was said that he -even asked " the Agitator," in a style of courtly compliment, to co-operate with him in his endeavours to tranquillise Ire- land, at that time sorely tormented with distress and agitated by "Captain Rock" and his merry men. O'Connell may have been lulled for the moment, as it were, by the honeyed words, but he was far too shrewd to succumb to the influence of the viceregal "blarney" for any length of time. Besides, the Catholics were soon offended by the circumstance that John Kingston James, the "noted," or "noto- rious," lord-mayor of Dublin, as the Times called him, "who had the courage to set the king's letter at defiance " by proposing a toast insulting to the Catho- lics, was created a baronet of Great Britain. A clever Catholic member of the English bar, a Connaught man, named Blake, who was supposed to have great influence with Lord Wellesley, and had followed in his train from England, succeeded, indeed, in mitigating to a cer- tain degree the displeasure of the Catho- lics, by taking on liimself the blame of having induced his friend, the marquis, to confer a title of honour upon James. O'Connell about this time published an address to the Catholics of Ireland. It begins with his favourite quotation from Byron — " Hererlitary bondsmen ! know ye not, Who would be free, themselves must strike tho blow?" He admits that, the year before, he and others had come to the conclusion that it was useless to petition the British Parliament again, wliile it was so unpo- pularly constituted. However, subsequent events, such as the king's visit and letter, which shewed "both the monarch and people in new and favourable lights," should, he says, cause them to alter their resolution. He accuses the Catholics of Dublin of " apathy or inconsistency" on the subject of the veto, ''while the last bill was in discussion,'' He even insists — referring to a hastily got up meeting,, where silence on the subject of the reto had been preserved — that '■ by dexterity and a species of side-wind, the Catholics of Dublin are at this moment committed to an approval of that measure, wliich they often so unanimously and so loudly condemned," He then speaks of a plan devised by himself in order " to obviate the mischief of a vetoistical bill," which he had sub- mitted to Mr. Plunket. This is, in point of fact, a modified plan for the concession of "securities" to the Government. The recent delusive appearances of increased liberality on the part of " the powers that be," followed up by the arrival of the enlightened Wellesley, and Plunket's appointment as attorney-general, for the time being, softened the sternness of O'Connell's resistance to the desire on the part of Government to have some check on the appointment of the Catholic bishops. According to O'ConneH's plan for "domestic nomination" of prelates, the candidates for vacant Irish sees should be natural born subjects of the Crown, who had taken the oath of alle- giance in one of the superior courts of Dublin, and had discharged clerical duties "for at least five j'^ears ; " the electors should take " a solemn oath " not to vote for any person who had not been known to them " by the most satis- factory proofs to be strictly loyal and 462 THE LIFE OF DANIEt O'CONNELL. peaceable in his principles and conduct." Tliis plan proposed, also, that, ere the successful candidate should be conse- crated, the Government should have two months " for investigntmg his character- " that if " a charge of disloyalty or disaffec- tion against hun should be proved before •the lioman Catholic archbishops of Ire- land, the electors should proceed to a new nommation;" that all Irish Catholic bishops should take an oath not to "cor- respond with any Pope, prince, prelate, potentate, or any other person " abroad, " upon any political subject whatever," and that, if any foreign potentate or other person should wi'ite to him, he should transmit to Government a true copy of so much of the communication as might be " injurious to the rights of the Crown or Government" etc. O'Con- nell's address and this plan are given in full in the second volume of his sons selection of his speeches, etc. Plunket in reply made some objections and sug- gested certain modifications, especially, that "instead of a specific charge" of •disaffection to the State, "to be estab- lished by specific proof," a general objec- tion to the loyalty of a candidate should justify his being set aside. However, this plan of " domestic nomination" never produced any practical result. On Wednesday, February the ISth, an aggregate meeting of Catholics, the pro- ceedings at which were confused and somewhat unintelligible, was held at Denmark Street Chapel. Counsellor O'Gorman read the following resolution : ■ — " Resolved, That we deem it essential to our honour and interests that as speedy a discussion as possible, in the present session, may be obtained on the merits of our petition." When this had been moved and seconded, Mr. Hugh O'Con- nor, a wealthy Catholic merchant, en- gaged in the West-Indian trade, moved an amendment to the effect that their petition should be committed to Plunket and Lord Donoughmore, to be presented for discussion in Parliament, " at such period in the present session as they may conceive most beneficial for Catholic interests." In urging the adoption of this amendment, he talked of the necessity of prudence, audmodeiation,andpatience. The word '-'speedy," in the original reso- lution, seemed to him "not decorous or well advised." lie also spoke of the in- famous Castlereagh as "our distinguished friend." When O'Connell, in his- turn, rose and said that the petition " called for a speedy discussion en the merits of our claims," he was, as it appears to me, most unreasonably and discourteously interrupted by Mr. Nicholas Mahon, who called him to order. "The petition had been passed, and should not now be made the subject of discussion." Ulr. WConnell. " I am not out of order I assert that that petition requires the meeting to pass my resolution." Mr. James O'Gorman. " I call Mr. O'Connell to order: we are not now dis- cussing the merits of the petition." Mr. O'Connell. " I call on the meeting' to caU for a speedy discussion of our petition." Confusion now arose ; but the chair- man, Sir Thomas Esmonde, conceived O'Connell had a right to be heard- O'Connell went on to say, he couldn't see why they '' should put their reason and judgment into the pockets of two individuals." He ridiculed Mr. O'Con- nor's calling Lord Londonderry, or Castlereagh, " our distinguished friend ;"^ upon which some one in the crowd cried out, " Do you come here to abuse mem- bers of Parliament?" The Marquis of Londonderry is not my friend," replied O'Connell. He added that Jack Lawless had asserted that he (O'Connell) was about to accept a silk gown as a bribe from Government. " The created uni- verse," exclaimed he, " would not induce me to accept a favour under the adminis- tration of Lord Londonderry." Here there arose boisterous interruption and disapproving murmurs, and cries of "Question, question!" and Mr. Hugh O'Connor conceived "that Mr. O'Con- nell was taking up the time of the meet- ing very unnecessarily." Upon this several groans were heard. Presently O'Connell talked of Russia "breaking up the Holy Alliance," and referred to " Greece struggling for freedom. Look to Spain! look to Portugal! In those countries we see the Inquisition and the tithe system abolished. Look to France ! " Here Mr. Hugh O'Connor asked, "Does. Mr. O'Connell mean to occupy the time of this meeting with such ridiculous non- sense V" (Applause.) "Whether it be ridiculous or sensible," quoth our hero, with good-humoured sturdiness, " I am determined I will not be prevented from going- on." This set them all a-lauffhing: THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 463 for several minutes. O'Connell now went on: — " Can they look for foreign support against our claims? What might have 43nsued in Ireland if the Catholic clergy- had renmmcd neuter?" Mr D'Evereux here hastened to call Mr. O'Connell to order. Towards the end, after a good deal more confusion, Messrs. Hugh O'Connor, Ilowley, and others declared they would withdraw the amendment, and let O'Connell's resolution pass, on the understanding that he would not oppose theii amendment as a separate resolution. To this O'Connell assented. The original resolution was then carried amid cries -of "No, no; " after which Hugh O'Connor's amendment was also carried as a resolu- tion. A committee was finally appointed to prepare an address from the Catholics to the king, begging him to recommend a repeal of the penal laws that still affected them. Jack Lawless, a few days after, wrote a letter disclaiming all inten- tion of charging O'Connell with any thought of takuig a bribe from Govern- ment. Some writers assert that this strange attempt to worry O'Connell by unusual and unseemly interruptions re- sulted from the intrigues of the viceregal favourite, Mr. Blake. Vv'hether this were the fact or not, I shall not take upon me to pronounce. On the 7th of IMay, in the same year, we find O'Connell, at a meeting held in the Rotunda Buildings, co-operating with a society, called " The National Society," in getting up a petition to the .House of Commons, praying for legislative aid to establish a system of " national educa- tion." His son says that, on this occa- sion, "the first idea of the present Na- tional Board of Education seems to have been shadowed out." O'Connell's speech is not well preserved. Among other things, he said, " They v/ould teach children of all persuasions, but would not interfere with the religious tenets of arn/." There were terrible scenes of famine and distress in Ireland, chiefly in the south and west, in this year, 1822. Sir John Newport of Waterford, in the House of Commons, described one parish in his neighbourhood where fifteen per- sons had already died of hunger, twenty- eight more were past hope of recovery, •one hundred and twenty prostrated by famine-fever. In another parish, upon the inhabitants of which fell famine had "scowled a baleful smile." the priest had gone round and administered extreme unction to every man, woman, and child. Colonel Patricson, quartered in Galway, reports to his superior officer that " hun- dreds of half-famished wretches arrive almost daily from a distance of fifty miles, many of them so exhausted by want of food that the means taken to restore them fail of effect, from the v/eak- ness of the digestive organs, occasioned by long fasting." In the county Clare, 99,G39 persons subsisted on daily charity; in Cork, 122,000. The statistics of the time are very defective. Alison, the Scotch historian, attributes this famine- havoc to "the contraction of the currency, and consequent fall of the prices of agri- cultural produce fifty per cent." ^UI through the war, from the closing years of the last century, there had been a sus- pension of cash payments. Paper-money had been a legal tender. In 1819, Peel's measure for the resumption of cash pay- ments had passed. Alison, however, does not trouble himself to mention that the Irish grain crop of 1821, to the amount of nearly two millions of quarters, and that of 1822, to the amoimt of more than a million quarters, with numberless herds of cattle, sheep, and pigs, had been carried over to England. The Enghsh Parlia- ment voted out of the consolidated ex- chequer of the two islands £500,000 to relieve Irish distress, by giving the desti- tute emploj^ment on public works. This appropriation, like similar grants during later Irish famines, was grossly mis- managed by English officials, and wasted on senseless and unproductive works. The English press of the time talked of it as if it were mere British alms to the pauper Irish, Alison gives Enghxnd any amount of glory for her generosity: — ' ' England no longer remembered the crimes of Ireland — thought only of hex* sorrows." More of this sort of sickly and sickening cant he drivels forth. But the Tory Scotchman takes good care not to remind us of the fact that John Mitchel takes good care to mention — viz., that this appropriation " byno means amounted to one -tenth part of the Irish money annually drained from Ireland into Eng- land, and applied to English purposes." To add to the horror of this terrible time, numbers of hapless tenants Avere "exterminated" by rapacious landlords and their still more unscrupulous agents. 464 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. Tenjints reteliated, and now and then shot a landlord or an agent. "Nocturnal outrages" took place. Men with black- ened faces, wearing Avhite shirts, in the hours of darkness searched houses for arms, which could be used for defence or vengeance. These disturbances were purely agrarian, not in the least revohx- tionary; yet the Government considered a new "Insurrection Act" the proper remedy for such disorders. "An Act for the Suspension of the Habeas Corpus'''' was also passed. To carry tliis measure was almost the last public act of the infamous Castlereagh, or Londonderry. It mnstf be admitted that the Marquis of Wellesley, in using the terrible extraordi- nary powers for the suppression of Irish outrage with which he was armed, shewed a certain humanity towards his unfortu- nate countrymen: and this moderation was probably one of the main causes of his daily increasing unpopularity with the Orange and Ascendency faction. However, even the Ascendency cor- poration was not quite insensible to the distress m the south and west. A meet- ing on behalf of the famine - stricken sufferers was held at the Mansion House, Dawson Street, on Thursday, tlie 16th of May. O'Connell, strange to say, received an invitation to be present at this meeting. He attended, and made them all laugh when he said, "I received an invitation to come here — an invitation which it is not usual for me to receive." Indeed, O'Connell, it appears to me. was always desirous to conciliate tli* Orange faction, if it were at all possible ; and when, on rare occasions, brought into immediate contact with them, he would for the moment succeed in inspiring them with more kindly feelings towards him. Thus, at an earlier date (1814), when he had an opportunity of speaking before the cor- poration, they were quite taken with him. Even the inveterate Giffard remarked, after Dan had retired, -The mildness of that man's mamn^r surprised me; I ex- pected something very different. His demeanour is extreme^ conciliating. He is eloquent; and, d — n — n to him! the fellow is so handsome ! " Returning, however, to the Mansion House meetmg of 182i!, O'Connell also said:— "There should be no rivalry in the present case, except a generous rivalry and emulation to excel each other in cheerfully contri- buting to the relief of their suffering fellow-countrymen." (Cheers.) Neither did he on this occasion forget his favour- ite topic of a repeal of the Union. Speak- ing of the causes of the existing distress, he said: — "His friend, Mr. Leader, had eloqviently enumerated many of the causes. It was now vain, he feared, to speak of absenteeism. The period for that was now gone by. When the Government of this country, with its peers and coib- moners, was transported to another country, it was idle to speak of absentees, for the great proprietors were obliged by law to be absent from their native laud.'^ (Hear, hear!) On the lotli of November, in the same year, at a Catholic charity dinner for the orphan school of Clondalkin, presided over by Lord Cloncurry, after thanking his noble friend, who had proposed his health, for saying "that he was honestly disposed to serve Ireland," O'Connell declared that "to Alderman Nugent, as. an Irishman, he felt unaffectedly grateful for his meritorious exertions in endea- vouring to effect a repeal of the Union. 'TwMS true, he differed, most widely differed, from that gentleman in politics; but he would forgive any man his injuries towards himself, or his general political line of conduct, provided he redeemed them by a smcere and substantial service towards his country." He also spoke against " secret confederacies and private associations," and ended by proposing the health of the Duke of Leinster. What he said of Alderman Nilgent re- ferred to a meeting of the Protestant guild of merchants, or "The Masters, Warden, and Brethren of the Corporation of Merchants, or Guild of the Holy Trinity, Dublin," at which a committee of their body, with Henry and James Grattan, sons of the illustrious Grattan, at their head, was appointed to prepare a petition for repeal of the Union. This petition dwelt on the miseries and griev- ances of Ireland since the Union, conse- quent on or aggravated by that measure — fever, famine, inordinate taxation, sus- pended habeas corptts, insurrection Acts^ government by stipendiary magistrates and armed police, constant coercive mea- sures, rejection of all motions for inquiry, stoppage of Ireland's progress. The petitioners said that a measure earned " byt^uch unconstitutional means * * * must end in calamity, and recoil upon the authors of so much evil." They also THE LIFE OF DA\1EL O CONNELL. 465 reminded the House that "the pressure of business upon you is too great, the inconvenience to Irish memboi-s to attend is too great, the wants of seven millions of people are too great." Sucli, in spite of their party prejudice, was the petition of this Orange guild. In truth, many of the Ascendency faction, while narrowly holding out for the maintenance of the exclusive rule of Protestants, would fain have seen the national legislature of Ireland restored. This very. Alderman Nugent, who so longed for repeal, apparently chmg at the same time to the narrow system of intolerance which went far to make Irish independence in any form impracticable. On the 15th of January, in the same year, at a corporation dinner at Morn- son's Hotel, amid loud hurrahs, and to the tune of "July tlie First," Sir Thomas Whelan had given the celebrated Orange toast, "To the glorious, pious, and im- mortal memory of the great and good King AVilliam the Third." When Sir Thomas had expressed his trust "that the corporation would not be blown about like a weathercock," Alderman Nugent had risen and proposed the healtli of Sir Thomas, for having given that never-to-be-forgotten toast. " If," he exclaimed, "the present system" {of con- ciliation) "should be persisted in. His Majesty s crown would not be safe in six months." Harrington gives an amusing full-length version of this Orange toast in his Personal Sketches. I shall give a sentence or two : " To the glorious, pious, and immortal memory of the great and good King William, who saved us from popery, slavery, arbitrary laws, wooden shoes, and brass money. May he who would not drink the toast on his bare knees be damned, crammed, and rammed, with * iiints and sparables, into the great gun of Athlone, blown into the air, and fall into the bottomless pit of hell — the key in an Orangeman's pocket!" The I'eader had better refer to Barrington, and see the toast complete. f On the l^tli of August, this year, an Irishman, who was all through life a worse enemy to his country than the worst Orangeman, executed justice on himself by seves-ing his carotid artery with a knife I allude to the suicide of the baleful and infamous Castlereagh. In a former chapter I have already re- ferred to this self-inflicted deed of retri- butive justice. Alison, speaking of the yell of execration with which a Loiiduu crowd (probably chiefly composed of Irishmen) welcomed tiie destroyer of Ireland's inde- pendence to his grave in Westminster Abbey, says that " savage miscreants raised a horrid shout." ISIr. Mitchel re- marks on this: "But future ages will probably pronounce, that in all the mob of London was no such dreadful mis- creant as the man then bowie to his grave." Even though I have little space to spare, I cannot refrain from giving some of Lord Byron's remarks on the death of this wretched traitor to his country: — "As to lamenting his death," says the noble bard, "it will be time enough when Ireland has ceased to mourn for his bii"th. As a minister, I, for one of millions, looked upon him as the mosb despotic in intention, and the weakest in intellect, that ever tyrannised over a country. It is the iirst time, indeed, since the Normans, that England has been insulted by a minister (at least) who could not speak English, and that Parlia- ment permitted itself to be dictated to in the language of Mrs. Malaprop." The wretch, in addressing Parliament, used to indulge in such sentences as the fol- lowing: — "Before I embark into the feature upon which the question hinr/es." Hear Byron again: — "In his life he waa — what all the world knows, and half of it will feel for years to come, unless his death prove 'a moral lesson' to the sui*- viving Sejani of Europe. It may at least serve as some consolation to the Nations that their Oppressors are not happy, and in some instances judge so justly of their own actions as to anticipate the sentence of mankind. Let us hear no more of this man, and let Ireland remove the ashes of her Grattan from the sanctuary of Westminster Shall the Patriot of Humanity repose by tha Wertlier of Politics?!!" The Orangemen shewed their inveterate prejudices on the 12th of July, 1822, as on former anniversaries. On the 11th, O'Connell had written a long letter to the Marquis of W'ellesley, calling on him to prevent tlie insulting Orange display, which he maintained was an itler/al " pro- vocation to tumult." He told the viceroy that he had damped the hopes of the Catholics, who had looked to him as " a friend," by telling the people that he had 466 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. come " to administer the laws, not change them." The viceroy had also recom- mended the "Insurrection Act" and the suspension of the habeas corpus. If Saurin had been driven from power, " the mild- est, kindest, and best public man Ireland bad ever jQt seen — Mr. Grant" — had also been removed. "As you cannot « tor, I respectfully, but firmly, call upon you to administer the law, and to suppress an illegal and insulting nuisance. * * * To-morrow decides the character of your excejlency's administration " Tliis letter embarrassed the viceroy, who v/ished, if possible, to stand well with both parties. He did not wish to exasperate the Catho- lics by suffering them to be insulted, nor to give the Orangemen the opportunity of saying that he yielded to the great "Agitator." He tried to persuade tlie Orangemen, through Master Ellis and Sir Abraham Bradley King, to forego theii' celebration. His diplomatic efforts failed. The statue of King \A'illiam was dressed as usual. The police looked on without interfering. Orange insolence was ram- 2Dant. The peace of tlie streets was dis- turbed. When indignant Catholics attempted to undress the statue, the police prevented them The favoured Orange band were allowed not merely to undress it, but to yell and shout and force the drivers of all vehicles to uncover their heads in passing the idol. Accidents happened in the confusion. Peaceable citizens were alarmed. It is in no degree wonderful that religious animosity now grew as strong as ever A sentence in an address of tlie Protestant Archbishop Magee to liis clergy fanned the flame. " The Dissenters," said the prelate, " have & religion without a church, and the Papists have a church without a religion." Controversies buzzed on all sides about men's ears. The famous Catholic bishop of Kildare and Leighlin, Dr. Doyle (whose signature, J. K. L., meaning James Kildare and Leighlin, appended to many an able letter and pamphlet, after- wards became famous) was at this time one of the most formidable of the anta- gonists of Dr. Magee. When the 4th of November, another of the Orange anniversaries, came round, a body of troops surrounding the statue prevented tlie Orangemen from dressing it. The Orangemen now became infuri- ated against the viceroy, on account of this energetic step, especially as it was declared illegal by Lord-Chancellor Man- ners and by Saurin. It was in vain that he had tried to conciliate tliem, as well as the Catholics, almost from the commence- ment of his administration. Had he not at a corporation dinner, soon after his arrival, lavished graceful compliments and classic eloquence on stolid, turtle-devour- ing, boozing Orange aldermen and town- councillors? It was on this occasion that, with his usual self-complacency and love of display, he had expatiated upon the very apociyphal antitpiity of his family, and the still more apocryphal devotion of his brother, the Duke of Wellington, to the laud of his birth. Had he not, also, though he had been insulted by them, dined with the Beef- steak Club, who, on his retiring from the festive board, had repeati'.d the former insult, drinking " The exports of Ii^land," signifying thereby the hopes of the Ascendency that the viceroy would be speedily recalled? All his fire of mtellect and princely, though somewhat theatric, deportment failed to win those bigots; for w;is he not conciliatory, friendly even, to the Catholics, and, as it now appeared, willing to prevent them from being in- sulted? Besides, had not the old beau made an American beauty, who was a "Papist," Ills vice-queen? Then his houseliold had shamrocks on their gold buttons. No wonder, then, that that odd little, square-built lunatic, in a spencer, the Rev Su* Harcourt Lees, whose en- lightened mission it was to discover Popish plots for the general massacre of Protestants, to denoimce in the news- papers thyse three dreadful potentates, " O'Connell, the Pope, and the devil," to petition Parliament " to put down Popery and send O'Connell to the Tower," while his crazy fancy was for ever haunted by visions of Jesuit conspiracies, and brood- ing over the tales of Fox's Book of Martyrs — no wonder that he and all the bigots of the Ascendency faction were now on fire with rage. A war of pamphlets increased the flame. The Orange mob only burned for an oiiportunity to give their lawless fury vent. The 14th of December, 1822, was a command-night at the theatre. Eveiy part of the house was crowded to suft'oca- tion. The dress boxes were r;.diant with female loveliness. The INlarquis of VVellesley, his small, but graceful person arrayed in scarlet, his intellectual head THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 467 uncovered, soon entered the viceregal box, wliich was qiiite superb with velvet and gold, and, after bowing repeatedly to the audience, the majority of whom rose and received him with liearty accla- mations, sat down on his gilded chair of sbite. Goldsmith's amusing comedy. She Stoops to Coiupier, had proceeded for some time, when disturbances commenced in the upper gallery. "A groan for Wel- lesley!" " No Popish governors!" "The Boyne "Water!" "Protestant Ascend- ency!" Such cries were shouted aloud. A shower of papers next came down, on which was this sentence, " The governor of the Bantams shall change his Monmuj- tone^ (The viarquis ivas also Earl of Mormngton.) Every now and then riots continued to break out in the gallery. A considerable band seemed to obey a loader. "The glorious memory" was called for. The band of disturbers would now retire to the back of the gallery to sing party songs and again come to the front brandishing bludgeons. In the interval between the comedy and the farce, " God Save the King" and 'Pat- rick's day" were played by the orchestra, the latter of which was loudly appLiuded by the viceroy and his attendants. Mingled groans and hisses and aj^plause — a dissonant bedlam din, in short — resounded m the upper gallery. While the music was being played, an apple was pelted from the gallery at the vice- regal box; next an empty quart-bottle was flung with great force by a burly carpenter named Handbidge, that struck with a loud sound on the top of the box just over Lord Wellesley's head. Re- bounding, the bottle fell into the orchestra, and, though nobody was hui't, the fright which seized the musicians put an end to their mwsic. One of them held up the bottle, on which boxes and pit roared out, "Seize the miscreant!" The old marquis had fearlessly stretched his gray, high-domed head out of the box and looked up at the gallery, his penetrating eyes all a-fiame with indignation. After the farce had coiumenced fresh disturbances began, which soon called attention away from the humorous acting of the inimitable Liston. White bludgeons were displayed in the pit, on which, as if in response, similar ones were brandished in the gallery with loud cries. Suddenly a huge lump of wood was dashed from the top gallery down on the cushion of the box next to the viceroy's, which, re- bounding, passed between him and the chandelier, struck the proscenium, and finally fell on the stage. The confusion was now tremendous. All started to their feet. Ladies were fainting or liastily flinging their shawls round them and rushing from the theatre. The gentle- men were furious. The marquis was standing up, apparently pointing out some one in the gallery to one of his attendants. Immediately a gentleman, wearing the blue and gold of the household, stood in the front gallery. He addressed .the audience, denouncing the " paltry " ruffian crew " that had been packed in the theatre" to insult the viceroy. "I am sure there is spirit and loyalty enough in the gallery to secure the ruffian. lie is in that cornei'." Several, now panic- stricken, got down from the top gallery and escaped through the lower. The soldiers were called in. They found it Lard to force their way through the narrow entrance, which only admitted one at a time. However, finally five men were captured — two tall, stalwart brotliers Handbidge, carpenters; George Graham, a printer ; a baker named Bernard Tulte ; and a servant named Patrick Bedford. Such was the memorable bottle-row. I have hardly space to give the sequel of this curious incident in full detail,.- Great indignation was felt at the outrage by the majority of the iTish people. Several "indignation" meetings were held. One, attended by persons of aU parties, was held at the Royal Exchange on Friday, the 2Gth of December, tiie new lord-mayor, Fleming, in the chair. The Duke of Leiuster was the second chairman. The cuiuity Dublin meeting took place at Kilmainham on Wednes- day, the 18th of January, 18::3, the liigh- sheriff presiding. Lord Cloncurry was afterward moved to the chaJr. He caused the meeting to separate in good humour by contrasting their treatment on that day with the treatment they received at the Kilmainham meeting, to which I re- ferred at the commencement of this chapter. At both these meetings O'Con- nell took a prominent part, spoke with great ability, and received loud and gene- ral applause from those assembled. At the second he had signal success in bring- ing opponents round to his views. At the first he praised the Marquis of Wel- lesley and the lord -mayor. On both 468 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. occasions he vittered many liberal senti- ments, tending to promote union and harmony among Irishmen of different sects. Numbers of addresses were voted to the Lord-lieutenant in consequence of the bottle riot. O'Connell and the Orange Sir Abraham Bradley King were brought into friendly contact for the first, but not the last, time at the city of Dublin meeting. O'Connell moved, and Sir Abraham seconded, the adoption of the address to Lord Wellesley. This address was received by that nobleman in the most gracious manner. It was almost open house at the Castle on the day of its presentation. Great num- bers were there in court-dresses ; but, as any one of moderately respectable appear- ance was admitted on this peculiar occasion, multitudes who, under ordinary circumstances, would have been excluded from the charmed circle, thronged the viceregal halls. During the interval be- tween two o'clock, the hour appointed for the presentation of the address, and four, when the viceroy arrived, costly wines in prolusion were served to all comers. Some grotesque scenes took place. A tipsy student of the university tormented Archbishop Magee with scholastic dispu- tations. When His Excellency at length arrived, he took his stand before the crimson-curtained throne, brilliant lights glancing on the gorgeous court-dresses around. Though his stature was small, he had an air of dignity that bespoke the great lord. The lord -mayor read the address. At its close the viceroy re- mained silent for a brief space. He seemed greatly moved. But soon he spoke impressively, in clear, loud tones, deeply stirring the hearts of his attentive auditory. There was, perhaps, something theatrical in some of his sentiments and in his delivery. He declared himself to have attained to such a point of felicity that he could hardly hope to experience the like again. He added, that " if the poignard were lifted against his bosom, he would bid the assassin strike." This use of the word "assassin" probably galled the Orange faction still more, and added fresh venom to their spiteful feelings. Three of the alleged offenders in this truculent Orange conspiracy — Henry and John Handbidge, carpenters, and George Graham, a printer (John O'Connell says, a shoemaker) — were capitally committed; but a Dublin grand-jury, of ' ' the right sort,'''' ignored the bills. Mr. Plunket, however, the attorney-general, resolved on proceed- ing by ex-officio information, and a day was appointed for the trial of the accused. The capital charge, however, was withdrawn. On the day of trial the excitement and interest felt throughout Dublin about this outrage and the different parties concerned, were at their highest pitch of intensity. Bushc, Chief- justice of the King's Bench, and Justices Burton, Jebb. and Vandeleur took their seats on the bench at nine o'clock a.m. The moment the doors were thrown open, a fearful rush of the expectant mass of human beings, that stood around, filled the spectators' galleries and all the approaches to the body of the court. There was some inclination to mirth, when Sheriff Thorpe found no small difficulty in ex- tricating Lefroy and another crown lawyer from the pressure of the densely- packed crowd, and getting them into court. The countenances of the Orange- men present wore a look of confidence, as if they were troubled by few or no misgivings as to the fate of their accused brethren. It appeared, however, pretty clear from the statements of the pro- secuting counsel, sustained as they were by the evidence that two lodges — one of them a Purple lodge, the other an ordinary one — had conspired to create the riot. The rioters, who had shewed them- selves in the pit, were Purple; the ordin- ary lodge had caused the tumult in the gallery. The admittance of the latter to the gallery had been paid for by the for- mer, who were their superiors in the organisation of Orange banditti. The Purple lodge had met at Daly's tavern, in Werburgh Street, before the play, to col- lect the four pounds necessary for this payment. The demand for " Th^ Boyne Water" was preconcerted: it was settled that, if the orchestra should refuse to play that tune, riot should ensue. There was evidence that Henry Handbidge, go- ing into the theatre, said to his associates, " Now be wicked!" When they got in, the cries which resounded through the theatre were, " To-night the gallery is our own!" " Bald-pated Welksli-y, go home out of that, you bloody Papist — you old rascal ! " " Look out, boys ! " To which the response was, "Here we are!" It appears that the "Purple" men, at a meeting held in another tavern, after the play, referring to the bottle's not having THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 469 struck Lord Wellesley, said " It was a damnable miss!" The " Black" lodj^es (the highest) shared this opinion. The bottle was stated to have been thrown at the viceroy by Henry Handbidge, who was a powerful man, six feet two in height. A portion of a watchman's rattle {the flake) v/as flung by Graham. It was asserted, in fact, that the Avhole riot was the result of a premeditated plan. The rioters were provided with bludgeons, whistles, the watchman's rattle, and drink. All the^ hissing and hooting and violence were pursuant to instructions given beforehand. Yet, when the jury retired, at four o'clock on the afternoon of the second day of the trial, they were imable to agree to a verdict. They were locked up for the night. Next day, however, they were dischai'ged. Subsequently the case was brought to London ; but there, too, the prosecution failed. In short, no one ever suffered any legal jienalty for this famous or infamous bottle riot. As for the Handbidges, they seem to have denied ths truth of many of the statements that appeared in evidence against them on their trial. According to the version of the widow of John Iland- bidge, given in the Life of O'Connell, published by Mullanyof Dublin, the bottle was not flung by Henry Handbidge. A bottle of whisky, indeed, was purchased by John Handbidge at the " Black BuU," in Ship Street. After taking a "swig" from it, on entering the gallery he passed it away to some other of the brethren, and never saw it again. Contrary to the evidence, it was he, not his brother Plenry, who was on the side of the theatre opposite to the viceregal box ; and neitlier Henry nor he, if you believe the family story as told by his relict, was the man who fired the bottle at the viceroy. The Handbidges even asserted that that bottle was hurled from the pit, not the gallery. They admitted, however, that Graham, who, it appeals, "rejoiced" in the euphonious nickname of " Badgy How," flung from the gallery a fragment of a watchman's rattle. Shortly after this incident, so charac- teristic of the state of society in Ireland at the time, and which might be regarded as a momentary triumph by the Orange fanatics, though undoubtedly the outrage to the Marquis of Wellesley injured their cause and served the Catholics in the long run (who can tell what influence it may have had on the mind of the Duke of Wellington, the Marquis's younger brother, at the crisis- of the fortunes of Catholics and Orangemen, in ':^9?) — shortly after this Orange brawl, I say, the Catholics in their turn achieved a considerable popular triumph at the county Dublin election. On the death of Hans Hamilton, who for many years had represented that county, Luke White — a very remarkable character in those days, who, beginning life as a peddler, had in some mysterious way accumulated a vast fortune — put his son. Colonel White, for- ward as candidate in the Catholic interest, against Sir Compton Domville, a very wealthy baronet, who took tlie side of " the Ascendency." As the Whites were eager partisans of the Catholic cause, O'C'onnell and the leading Catholics gave them all the support in their power. The cry of the hour was " Catholicity and White." Old Luke spent his money freely in the struggle ; Billy Murphy, too, the rich Catholic salesmaster of Smith- field, DubUn, who, it is said, had been concerned in the rebellion of '98, was also liberal of his gold. But O'Connell's popu- lar eloquence was better than gold. He even went through the sea-coast chapels and harangued the simple fishermen, many of whom were " forty-shilling free- holders," in language that came home to their habits and feelings. Crowds of voters, at first intimidated by the threats of their landlords, when adjured by O'Connell to remember their oountry, and not to seU the Catholic cause (priests, too, lent important aid to Wliite), forgot their fears, defied their petty tyrants, and, though they, had come to the polling- booth of Kilmainham to vote for Domville, polled for White. Finally, the patriotic enthusiasm became so overwhelming that Domville. feeling himseK beaten beyond hope, retired from the contest, and Colonel White was declared duly elected. The ex- cited populace resolved on chairing their new member. He was borne in triumph through the streets of the metropolis at the head of a multitudinous procession. As the exulting masses were passing Trinity College, missiles were throws at them by the students, who chiefly be- longed to the Ascendency faction. In » few moments the iron railings in front oi the college were burst through. As the students were fljnng througli the arch- way, that leads to the inner courts, several 470 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. were seized by the exasperated people, and probably they owed the preservation of their lives solely to the strenuous exertions of O'Conuell and other prominent Catho- lics. As for the Whites, like the thane of Cawdor, they became -'prosperous gentle- men." The head of the family is now Lord Annally. I can only make brief mention of the libel case of Wallace v. Staunton, in which O'Connell defended Michael Staun- ton, who was arraigned on the 25th of May, 1821, for an alleged libel, in the Weekhj Register, on Thomas Wallace, the king's counsel, afterwards master in chan- cery. He, it may be remembered, was one of the unfortunate John INIagee's counsel. In spite of O'Connell's able speech, the close of which drew forth a burst of applause from a crowded court, a packed jury convicted ]\Ir. Staunton, who suffered an imprisonment in Kilmain- bam. Mr. Staiinton, through the better portion of his life, was one of the most prominent liberal journalists in Dublin, and one of O'ConnelFs most devoted partisans. He lived to be lord-mayor of Dublin in the reformed corporation. In his latter years, through O'Connell's in- fluence, he also became coUector-general of metropolitan rates. I shall also notice, in passing, a letter written by O'Coimell to the Dublin Free- man s Juarnal, on the Gth of December, 1822, in reference to- a point of legal etujiietie. The Freeman had made an in- accurate statement in reference to O'Con- nell's connection with the case of Crowe V. Fleming, and O'Connell, in conse- quence, gives a brief, but lucid explana- tion of the whole matter. " I was counsel," he writes, "for Mr. Crowe at the trial of the first cause instituted by him in the Court of Exchequer, and tried at Ennis, in the summer assizes, 1819. He was un- successful, and the cause was at an end. " He afterwards filed a bill against Mr. Fleming in the Court of Chancery. In that cause I was not counsel for either party: Mr. Crowe had a right to leave me out, and he very properly exercised that right. " He next instituted iJiis suit in the Court of King's Bench, and issue had been for some time joined in it before either party applied to me. Mr. Hick- man, tlie defendant's attorney, was the first to do so He offered me a retainer." O'Connell wanted to decline, havuig been "counsel for the plaintiff in the former case." Hickman insisted on "the defen- dant's right" that O'Connell " should accept of his retainer," and tiiat he could not, " consistently v/ith professional pro- priety, refuse." O'Connell still hesitated. Finally, the matter was referred to that celebrated lawyer, the late Edward Tenne- father, with whom, in spite of widely- different pohtical views, O'Connell seems to have been generally on not unfriendly terms O'Connell and Hickman went together to Mr. Pennefatlier's house. On Hickman's statement, that distinguished autlibrity "decided," says O < ^onnell, " that I was bonnd to accept the defendant'' s retainer. In that decision, of course, I acquiesced." O'Connell touches on a few other points, to which the Freeman had referred inaccurately; but I liave given the only point of any particular interest m the letter. Early in the summer of 1822, our hero had senth's famil}' to the South of France, chiefly for the benefit of Mrs. O'Connell's health. They had sailed from Dublin to Bordeaux. From that city they had gone to the towm of Pau, in the department of Basses I'j'renees, where they waited tiU O'Connell could join them. In the month of August he managed to leave Ireland for the purpose of doing so. He went, however, in the first in- stance, by Dover and Calais, to Paris, in order to visit his distinguished and vener- able uncle,' General Count O'Connell. The political creeds of those two remark- able O'Counells were completely at variance. But the fine old soldier did not let his unbounded veneration for royalty interfere with the warmth and kindness of the reception he gave the great popular chieftain, his nephew. In spite of his eighty years and old wounds, of which he bore the numerous scars (forty years before, at the memorable siege of Gibraltar, the scattering fi'ag- ments of a sljell from tlie British bat- teries had in a moment wounded him in nine places; a bullet had also carried off a portion of his ear), in spite of time and toils, the bravo old general was still hale and hearty. lie was kind and genial, thoroughly Irish, and full of old anec- dotes and recollections of the "battles, sieges, fortunes" through which he»had passed, " even from his boyish days." He no doubt entertained his kinsman wiih full many a tale. THE LIFE OF DAXIEL O CONN'ELL. 471 " Of most disastrou-- cha7iceR ; Of moving ticiddont.s by flood and Hold; Of liair-hreadth 'f?capes i the iminimiiit deadly breach." Our hei^o now left Paris for the South of France. It was on this journey, ac- cording to John O'Connell, that he had the adventure in the dilujcncc with a good- looking French sea-captain, who, ima- gining him to be an Englishman, tried to provoke him by abusing England, and was equally vexed and astonished at Dan's imperturbable good-humour, till the ti'ue cause was explained to him, when he sheiwed all the true politeness of a French- man. I follow the authority of O'Neill Daunt (and I ^uink rightly), in ascribing this adventure to O'Connell's visit to France in early life. The. reader may call to mind the brief account of this incident, which occurs towards the com- mencement of the fifth chapter of this biography. During the latter part of this journey, O'Connell had to post. He encountered a soiilewhat unpleasant adventure, such as travellers in foreign lands are still occasionally liable to, but which in those days, when railway communication was not, they might meet at any time without any need to be much surprised. By some misconception of his orders (probably some provincial speaker of patois* mis- understood O'Connell's excellent French), he was taken along the route to Bayonne instead of that to Pau. He did not dis- cover this mistake till, just at the very close of a most exliaustiug day, during the whole of which he had been sustain- ing himself with anticipations of the delight he would feel that night in being reunited with Mrs. O'Connell and his family, he learned, in answer to an in- quiry as to the exact distance yet botv/een him and Pau, that, instead of being near his loved ones, he was at the second or third last stage from Bayonne, and nearly forty leagues by cross roads (probably infernal) from his real destination. One can easily imagine the miserable night- travelling he had to endure, attended, no doubt, with any amount of jolting, if not actual danger to life and limb, over the ruts and inequalities of the badly-con- structed and worse-kept cross-roads (the great cliaussees, or main roads of France, indeed, were evep then magnificent). After this night of unrest, he had also to travel all thi'ougli the next long, weary day, ere he could rejoin his family. These amenities of travel, his son tells us, were long most disagreeably I'emembered." One would expect that a fine, jovial nature like O'Connell's would speedily laugh at such misadventures. At all events, the joy of reunion with his much- loved wife and children Avould soon banish any unpleasant remembrances of the road. I fancy that poor creature, John O'Connell, paints rather what he would be likely to feel under such cir- cumstances himself, than the actual feel- ings of his father. After sojourning for a few weeks at Pau, O'Connell brought his family to Tours, where he left them to spend the winter, and then set out on his return to his public and legal duties in Ireland. His son, Morgan, who had been back from his South American .expedition for about two years, and was now on his way to join the Austrian army as a cadet in a light dragoon regiment, accompanied him as far as Paris. No doubt, the gallant veteran. Count O'Connell, was especially rejoiced to see a young soldier of his r.ncient race. Morgan proceeded to Austria; and our hero, having also bid farewell to the old warrior of his race, kastened to their native isle.* CHAPTER XXI. O'Connell Communicates the Plan of a Now Associar- tioa to Shiel. at a friend's house in Wicklow — The Keal Catholic Association Founded — Lordlvilloen — UniOn of all Sections of Catholics — The Priests become Active Workers in the Cause — Slow Pro- gress of the New JIuvement at first — O'Connell a delightful Travelling Companion — O'Conuell Estab- lishes the "Catholic Ilent" — DifiBculties he has lo Overcome; hia Project sneered at; his tremend- ous Energy — His complete Triumph ; friends and enemies surprised — The Popular Element strong in the Catholic Movement for the fli st time — I'he Association a sort of National Government; the Multiplicity of its Business; O Connel! has the Lions share — 18'24-one of the most Glorious Years of his Life — Bold Opinions of Dr. Doyle — 'The Sorboune Mauifrsto ' — The Dissenters not Un- fri ndly to the CattioUcs — Clever Literary De- fenders of the Cathohc ( ause— Dulness oi their Oppoaenis— Insanity of iSir Harcourt Lees and the Oiiinge Faction— Establishment of the Morning Register — Moore's Captain Hock — A Year's 'Work * Authorities for the foregoing chapter: — The Select Speeches of Daniel O'Connell, M. /'., edited, with Historical Notices, etc., by his Son, John O Connell, Esq.; Pagans Life of (''Connell; Life oj Dr, Doyle, by Fitzpatrick; Life and Times of Daniel O'Conned, with Sketches of Ills Contemporaries, etc, Dublin, John Mul- lany, 1 Parliament Street; The Hisloru of Ireland, froir^ the Treaty of Limerick to the J'resent Time, by John jNIitchPl; History of Europe since 1815. by Sir Archibald Alison, Bart.; Memoirs of Lord Wtllesley; Cobbe i's Register ; Horace Twiss's Memoirs of Lord ElUon, etc. 472 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. in the Association — O'Connell Denonnres the Hostile Journals of Ensland and Ireland— " The ■brst abused Man in the "World " — O'Connell's EpisNjlary "Bores" — Ai'istocratic Adhesions- Death of "Old Ilunting-Ciip'"- Aggr ga'e Meet- ti„g_'-The New Reformation'" — O'Connell Ar- rested for a Speech on Bolivar -O'Connell and the Caihol'c Delegates in Englaud-The Catholic Association Suppressed — The Duke of York's Speech on Peel's Emancipati"nBill — "The Wings ' —Stephen Copptnger— Tiie Mihoti Party— Cdbbett and O'Connell — Affair vith Leyne — Fourtcen- days' Meetings — 0'(j0nnell 'Dnfonqueriible ; the New Association— O'Connell's Amusing Difference ■with the Press— Elections ; Defeat of the Beres- foriJs. &c — The Oriler of Liberators — Foreign Sympalhi^ers— Deiith of Brie- Death of the Duke of "York and Lord Liverpool— Dm and Eemmy Sheehan— Buriletfs Hill Defeated — Napoleon's Niece at, a. Catholic Meeting — Canning Minister; his Death; great Disappoint:nent of the Catholics — p(er annum for educating this cor- rupted people." Gordon " praised the Scotch — and small blame to him ! — above all the other people upon the face of the earth. They were a Bible-reading people, it seemed ; " but still they had Radicals among them and disturbances. The lead- THE LIFE OF DANIEL o'CONNELL. 403 eis of these, however, were twenty-five thousand Irish Rockites in Scotland. "This reminded him" (^0'' Connell) "of an announcement he once read in a Scotch newspaper. It ran tlius: — 'We are authorised to state that the Archibald McEven Avho Avas hanged at the Canon- gate last Wednesday was not a Scotch- man, but that he was an Irishman.' " He then reminds (Gordon of the days when Scotland was the weak point through which the throne of England could be assailed, when Scotchmen were perse- cuted for religion and conscience' sake, like Irishmen of the present century. If Scotland had then possessed seven mil- lions of people, '• like Ireland now, she would have rolled back the tide of war until the Tower of London would have yielded to its mighty torrent." (Ap- plause. He shewed up the hyj^ocrisy of tlie English, who sent " schoolboys and captains to convert the wild, unchristian Irish. * * * The elegance of Eng- land was all ascribed to Bible-reading." Was not Gi'eece elegant though not Christian? Had not Rome the glory of conquering the world when pngan? But what of the barbarism of England? He read an immense number of extracts from reports of religious societies, painting in terrific colours the depravity and want of religion of the people of England, or "the land of Goshen," as it was called. To the missionaries he would say, "Take the beam out of your own eye, before you attempt to pick at the mote in ours." In a burst of the truest living eloquence and pathos, he celebrated the merits of the Irish priests. As Shiel had advised "the amiable itinerant," Noel, and his associates, to go and preach Christianity to the higher classes, to the oppressive landlords of the Ascendency, rather than to the poor Irish Catholics, so now O'Connell recommended them to go back "to the land of Goshen, to go to the savage and demoralised Enghsh, and make converts there; for though they should prophesy the downfall of Ropery until they became hoarse, they would never make a convert here." (Loud ap- plause.) He humorously pays mock- compliments to the Scotch military apostle on "his second sight,' "his prophetic vision," of the rise of " the new modes of Gospel regeneration " in Ireland, and the magically-sudden down- fall of Popery and aU its appurtenances. The honest captain's oration reminds him of some vei-ses read by him long ago — " ' He talked of Taffy "Welsh and Sawney Scot, Of Lillibullero and the Irish tr-ol, When, seized on a sudden witli a mighty qnalm. He rose, and thundered forth— the" hundredth Psalm." O'Connell was great on the opinions of the Fathers, the real })resGnce and all points theological. He taunti.'d his op- ponents with their inability to agree with each other in matters of faith. He quizzed " the half-reverend Mr. Pope " (if I remember i-ightly, Mr. Pope was only in deacon's orders) as unmercifully as he did the rest. " Mr. Pope had quoted a number of saints, but they all differed in opinion from kirn " — St. Basil, St. Austin, St. Chrysostom, St. Cyprian. "St. Augustine emphatically declares that 'he would not believe the Gospel unless on the authority of the Catholic Church.' He " (Mr. Pope) " had talked of the djffer- ences of the popes, and told you' that the popes of those days, as well as the popes of this, were very extraordinary fellows." (Shouts of laughter and great applause.) When our hero alluded to female preachers, some fair Quakeresses tried hard to get out of the meeting. He referred to the French Revolution ; the altar had been overturned, but the ancient faith had arisen "from its ashes like a phoenix, or like a giant refreshed with wine." Toleration prevailed now in France. In consideration of his having a family to support, a Protestant curate was allowed more by the French (xovern- ment than a Cathohc curate. Would to God every governmeid resembled them in libtrahty ! " Something had been said of the charity of England: they had given £100,000; but it was not until whole parishes had got extreme unction that it arrived. * * * He did not tha}ik the nation for this. Let those not talk who had degraded our gentry, broken the spirit of the people, and paid back that beggarly charity. They had scoffed at our religion; yet they talked of charity. He would say to the English, Do justice before you preach religion; send mis- sionaries, not to the poor of the south, but to the Orangemen of the north." (Thunders of applause.) The "'sister country,' romantically styled ' the land of Goshen,' never established a society to 494 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. humanise that great moral and political monster, the sanguinary and anti-social Orangeman." (Thunders of applause.) " Oh, no ! here the cloven foot of our tenef actors appears. Proclaim honestly that conscience is free ; destroy that worst of monopolies, the monopoly of religion, and suffer the poor, the patient, and the persecuted Catholic to live and die undisturbed in the religion of his forefathers." (Immense applause.) "But he laughed with supreme contempt" at their miserable pretence of "coming as friends — at the insulting policy which induced them, when the people asked for bread, to give them a stone." The speech closed amid loud acclamations, which lasted several minutes. Daniel, a second time in "the lion's den," was a second time victorious. However, in spite of all his controversial fervor, he was quite good-humoured and placable. Before he had entered the place of meeting this day, the Rev. Henry Irwin^had complained bitterly that the privacy of their meeting was intruded on, their harmony and unanimity disturbed, their meetings, in short, made open ones. He added, that the intruders would have just as much right to force their way into the privacy of domestic life. Remarking, then, that O'Connell had the day before thought proper " to introduce his con- jugal happiness as one of the topics of a popular oration," he went on to say, "If I had spoken of Mrs. O'Connell as he — " Here shouts of "Order! order!" arose on all sides, while an infinite hubbub of disorder prevailed — in tlie midst of which it was intimated that our hero was trying to make his way through the densely- crowded passage. Mr. Irwin tried to explain that he meant no offence to Mr. O'Connell. He then proceeded : — " If I had spoken of his %vife in such teiins as he had spoken of the Bible, if I had said she was a very good woman, but that I would not allow her to visit my family — " Here Counsellor Brie interposed, and said, " Such language is highly improper when uttered of any gentlewoman, but certainly ought not to be applied to a lady of Mrs. O'Connell's rank." He added, when Mr. Freeman, the chairman, said, " he would not esteem such hm- guage an offence," that, " at all events, it was bad taste." But now O'Connell enters amid deafening applause, and speedily a good-humoured and amicable explanation takes place between Parson Irwin and O'Connell, his reverence as- suring "the learned gentleman that he meant the lady nothing but respect ; " to which "the learned gentleman" replies, " If jow believe me, she deserves nothing less." This sets them all laughing, and Irwin continues his harangue, endeavour- ing to reply to a remark made by Shiel the day before, "that of the lunatics- in the asylums a large proportion had gone mad from Bible-reading." After this the lunatic assembly went on with as much good-hmnour as the case iid- mitted of. O'Connell afterwards occasionally re- ferred to this defeat of the " New Refor- mation." At a meeting of the 9th of October, a gentleman named Candler, who announced himself as an Englisii Protestant Dissenter, while admitting his surprise " that the Catholics did not hate the Orangemen, instead of simply con- temning them," at the same time depre- cated the opposition given by Catholics- to the establishment of Bible societies in Ireland," assertmg that such conduct "gave great offence in England." O'Con- nell, in reply, observed, that if " the at- tempt at proselytism were confined to the cunning and dexterity of the individuals employed, he should not have heeded them ; but when the most cruel persecution and aggravated oppression were enforced against the wretched peasantry who re- fused to send their children to the biliKcal schools, it would have been inhuman and criminal, when an opportunity offered, did he neglect to expose the imposition, or, by publicly challenging its promoters, afford them an opportunity of explaining their views." Pie asks, Who were the biblical " divines? * * * "Why, forsooth, u man of war, with a Bible in one hand and a sword in the other, who abused Ireland and praised Scotland, and a young man of fashion, armed with pre- judice and enthusiasm." It was meri- torious to expose the chicanery of a system that could dupe such a man as Ser- geant Lefroy into countenancing " such a transparent job as the expending of no less than £8,000 for the printing of Bibles in the Irish language, when it was known to every one that those who were capable of reading the Irish character had acquired that facility by means of the English langncige; and when it was equally notorious that not one of the peasantry could read Irish THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 495 at all !" On this occasion O'Connell was followed by the llev. Francis Joseph L'Estrange, of the Order of Discalced Carmelite Friars, and Counsellor John Brie. Father L'Estrange was the first Catholic clergyman who entered himself as an every-day worker in the struggle for emancipation. The German traveller, Prince Puckler Muskau, who met Father L'Estrange at Darrynane Abbey, Avas greatly astonished by his " enlarged and liberal views, ' although (strange to say) he persisted in remaining a Catholic '" Counsellor Brie was a young man of great promise. " He came up," says John O'Connell, " from his native county a poor, unfriended, scantily-clothed boy, and, with no other assistance than that which his own talent and efficiency ob- tained for him, while acting as clerk to Mr. O'Connell, contrived to educate him- self for the bar, to which he was called about the year 1819." He was honest and energetic, a forcible and effective speaker, in spite of too broad a brogue. His figure was large and somewhat clumsy. At the meeting of the Association, on the 10th of November, O'Connell strongly denounced the conduct of the Trench femily, one of the great houses of the " souper" aristocracy, at the recent Bible meeting atLoughrea. " Souperism" is a facetious appellation given by the Irish people to the doings of those proselytisers who promote the spread of "Evangelical Christianity " by the distribution of soup among the poorer classes. The repre- sentative of the principal branch of these rapacious Trenches is Earl of Clancarty, one of the titles forfeited by the princely family of McCarthy at the period of the Williamite wars. O'Connell alleges that the earl's brother, the Protestant arch- bish.op of Tuam, had police surrounding the place Avhere the Bible meeting took place, and hussars guarding the door. " The Catholics were invited there to hear their religion abused, while they were placed betv/een their traducers and the military." The archbishop would not allow a Catholic clergyman, the Rev. Mr. Daly, to speak. Finally, however, his grace had to leave the chair, and a Pro- testant barrister, Mr. Guthrie, was moved into it, and counter-resolutions passed. O'Connell justifies all this — denies that there was any '> outrageous conduct" on the part of the C'atholics, as had been falsely asserted. He also ridiculed the ••Nev/ Eefonna tion," at the Catholic aggregate meeting of the 2d of December, to which I liaye already referred. As the enemies of the Catholics "could not prevent the Catholics from looking for their rights " — could not " cut tlieir throats (they Avere too numer- ous for summary persecution)" — some other remedy should be applied to cure this disastrous state of affairs. "The Kildare Street Society discovered the remedy." (A laugh.) • They procured the attendance of Mr. Euel and Captain Gordon" (a laugh), " and that great com- mander, Admiral Oliver." (A laugh.) " Thus the poor Papists were besieged by sea and land." (Laughter.) " They Avere attacked by land-rats and by Avater-rats " (a laugh); "and the efforts of all those odious and mischievous vermin were di- rected to undermine the religion and to destroy the hopes of this country." This very eccentric Admiral OUver, who had seen much more service as one of "the church militant" than as a naval officer, who, Avith httle glory, had been fortunate enough to win much prize-money, when an acting post-captain, and Avho had remained on the half-pay list under the shadow of his scanty laurels, ever after was a constant butt of O'Connell's Avicked ridicule. The Liberator took the intensest delight in nicknaming him the " poor Canal Admiral." Having thus related, somewhat in de- tail, the foundation and rise to great popular poAver and influence of the cele- brated Cathohc Association — ^liaving at length brought our hero to a commanding position in Irish pohtics, so that himself alone might now be regarded as a for- midable power in the empire—-! shall devote the remaining pages of this chap- ter to a hurried summary of the chief occurences between the year 1824 and that famous Clare election, which forced the British Government at last to concede Catholic emancipation. Although the Catholic cause Avas fast becoming irresistible, having the support of the Avhole Catholic population of Ireland, and of "a small but very Avealthy and influental group of nobles and gentry of that ancient faith" in England, Avho were eager to be restored to their own civil rights; and although the ministers Avere by this thne quite sensible that emancipation Avas only a question of time, yet they could not as yet tliink of surren- 496 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. dering with a good grace. On the con- trary, they were now guilty of a piece of impotent spite and rage utterly contemp- tible. Indeed, to make a concession to Ireland with a good grace, or magnani- mously, is a thing the English Government has hardly ever been able to do In one of the speeches made by him in the Asso- ciation on Thursday, the 16th of December, after praising the London Examiner for its sympathy with the Irish Catholics, which resembled that which it had mani- festedforthe Greeks, O'Connell uttered the following sentences — at least according to the report of the Morning Register: " Op- pression drives the wise man mad; it has not yet had that effect upon the Irish people; it has never driven them to the extremity of desperate resistance, and Heaven forbid it ever should; but if such an event should come to pass, may another Bolivar" (the president-liberator of Spanish South America) "and the example of Greece animate their efforts." The ver- sion given by Saunders'' Neius Letter varied slightly from this. According to it, his language was fiercer: ■' If she " (Ireland) " were driven mad by persecution, he wished that a new Bolivar might arise — that the spirit of the (Treeks and of the South Americans might animate the people of Ireland " In order to give a more seditious colouring to its report, Saunders printed this passage with seven notes of admiration! But indeed, even admitting the correctness of the report in Saunders, it is not easy to see how this speech could be construed into sedi- tion, considering iLe numerous saving clauses which O'Cunnpll introduced to qualify the fierceness of liis seeming menaces. The authorities, however, ap- peared to take a diffenmt view of the mat- ter, for at half -past five on the evening of Monday, the 20th, just as O'Connell was about to comfort himself with domestic enjoyments after the fatigues of the day, Alderman Darley and Police - Constable Farrell entered his study. The alderman, after the usual salutation, said: " I come, Mr. O'Connell, to save you the trouble O'f attendmg at the office, as I have been directed by the attorney-general to call on you to enter into a recognisance to appear at the next sessions." In reply to O'Connell's demand, •■ On what charge? " the alderman said: " Upon a charge of having spoken seditious words at the last meeting of the Association." He refused to state what the words were, or who was the informer; he wished to give Mr. O'Connell "the least possible trouble — would take his own recognisance, without requinng any one to join him." O'Connell submitted at once, thanking the alder- man for his politeness and civility. Ac- cordingly, he is bound to appear at the ensuing Quarter Sessions, to commence on the 2nd or 3rd of January. This vexes him, because it interferes with his meditated journey to England (of which I shall have more to say immediately), and he would fain have Darley take his recognisance '• for the sessions after the next, or for the term." That gentleman, however, has no discretion in the matter; " our hero must apply to the attorney- general." O'Connell, smiling, says: — " There is one thing you'll admit, Mr. Alderman, that the attorne3'-general will have no difficulty in getting a grand- jury to find any bills he pleases against me." To which speech Darley ]n-udent]y maketh no reply; but he and O'Connell shake hands and part for the night. O'Connell retains Mr. Kildahl of Sack- ville Street, who cannot get a copy of the informations out of the magistrates for love or money; indeed, cannot get any satisfaction at all out of them ; whereupon he writes an indignant demand for a copy of informations to Crown-Solicitor Kem- mis. Possibly Plunket had no informa- tions, and was only now spearing about for informations. So far things look black enough for Dan. But, to shorten the story, when the commission sits. Justice Moore and Justice Vandeleur presiding, the GoA^ernment case breaks down most ignominiously. O'Connell's counsel, Wal- lace and glorious Robert Homes (brother- in-law of Emmet, and a man who never accepted a silk gown from the British Government), contended that the words of the speech must be proved literally. Judge Vandeleur thinks it enough to prove the substance. The grand-jury, however, return into court at half-past six o'clock WITH THE BILLS IGNOKED ! And how could they act otherwise? for did not all the reporters of the press nobly and indignantly refuse to give evidence? Vousden of the Morning Post could re- collect nothing; Charles O'Flahcrty, of the same paper, Avas not much more satisfactory; Leech of the Freeman, like V^ousden, could remember nothing Avith- out his note-book, Avhich he hadn't about THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 497 him. Kvon Mr. Hayden, proprietor of the Star, a journal denounced by O'Con- nell as written by " rene^ade.s," "pro- tested against the examination of his reporter, because he thought the whole affair a joke of the attorney-general; but, supposing it to be a serious proceeding, he would not permit any of his people to become the accusers of any one." The only ignoble reporter, Satmrlcrs'' man, was obliged, on being closely questioned, to confess that he was asleep when the al- leged seditious passage was spoken ; that a blow on the table had startled him from slumber; and that he took his report from the person near him, of whom he had asked, "What caused the noise?" Half Dublin, shouting enthusiastically, conducted O'Connell home to Merrion Square triumphant. Even the London papers appeared to disapprove of Attor- ney-General Plunket's proceedings The Morning Chronicle asked. Was not William the Third the Bolivar of the seventeenth century? Does not Locke's famous book on government teach that nations op- pressed may rebel? O'Connell only says whiit every popular orator has uttered since the first condemnation bj^ authority of the doctrines of non-resistance and passive obedience. How different the language of O'Connell and that of Sir Harcourt Lees connived at by the Go- vernment! Such, in substance, was the burden of the Morniwi Chronicle. But this was nothing to Shiel's fierce philippic against Plunket, which reminded that utterer of the famous " Hamilcar speech " of the days when, in the Irish House of Commons, he had "kindled the popular passions," when he was "fierce, and viru- lent, and vituperative." Shiel made his speech on the proceedings against O'Con- nell on the 8th of January, 1825. When, at the same meeting, O'C'onnell rose to speak after Shiel, the waving of hats and acclamations lasted for nearly ten minutes. He had already at this meeting denounced a dreadful statoixient of the reverend and bigoted Hugh McNeill, son-in-law to Archbishop Magee, made, without his having any evidence to sustain it, at a meeting of the Irish Society in London, " that Catholic priests of Ireland were, at that very time, actually engaged in pla- carding ' Pastorini's Prophecies ' in every quartei; of that country, in order to excite the peasantry to deluge it with Protestant blood " O'Connell accuses the archbishop of being a party to this calumny, sneers at his writing himself down " a poor, persecuted man," and asks, mockingly, " When did we ever hear of one of the apostles being pei'secuted by the offer of twenty-seven thousand pounds for renewal of leases?" (Great laughter.) In this speech our hero complains of the false alarms of plots which were then being- disseminated. Loughrea was the focus of these machinations. " In one day several hundred letters containing the word ' Prepare ' issued from the post- office of that 'biblical' spot. In the county of Clare those letters were also widely circulated. The Mail had recently apologised for publishing a Scotchman's advertisement for ash -poles, required as stakes for nets, as the managers of that journal " understood they were intended for pike - handles." Resolutions were passed at this meeting expressive of astonishment and indignation at the recent prosecution of O'Connell. At the meeting of December the 16th, the Association had appointed a deputa- tion, consisting of O'Connell, Shiel, and Brie (the last-named gentleman to act as secretary), to proceed to England. On their way to London they were to visit the Catholic Associations in Liverpool and such other places as they might deem fit; they were to concert Avith the English Catholics the best means "of laying be- fore the English people the sufferings and merits of the Catholics of Ireland." O'Connell announced, amid immense cheering, "that they" (the deputation) " would travel at their own expense, without infringing upon the funds of the Association ; " and, though it was ' ' a sacri- fice in a professional point of view to leave town at that juncture, he was happy to have an opportunity of making such a sacrifice to the interests of liis country." Earty in 1825, the deputation, consist- ing of the three just named and some others, proceeded to England. But a blow was about to be struck at the Association in the Imperial Parliament. Though Ireland was quite peaceful, the king's speech on the 3d of February described the proceedings of the Irish Catholic Association as " irreconcilable wiih the constitution," and calculated " to endanger the peace of society and to retard th.e course of national improve- ment." Chief-Secretary Goulbourn suc- ceeded in carrying through both Houses 498 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. a bill for the " Suppression of Unlawful Associations in Ireland." This was in- tended to destroy the Catholic Associa- tion, though a perfectly legal body. In vain, on the night of the 18th of February, Brougham pleaded vehemently against it, while the Irish deputation was sitting below the bar listening with delight to the rush of his mighty eloquence. We shall see presently how easily O'ConneU, to use one of his own favourite phrases, " drove a coach-and-six through this (Algerine) Act of Parliament." At the same time that the Govern- ment introduced this arbitrary biU, they brought forward a meagre measure of emancipation, accompanied with two crafty provisions in the nature of " secu- rities," which were called " the wings " of the relief bill. Thus, while Catholics, both in England and Ireland, were to be admitted to Pai^liament and municipal corporations, on the other hand, the forty- shUling freeholders were to be disfran- chised, and the Catholic clergy were to become stipendiaries of the British Go- vernment. A bishop was to receive from the treasury a salary of £1000 per anmim, a dean £300, a parish priest £200, a curate £60. This measure, with its accompany- ing safeguards of English supremacy, was the offspring of Peel's crafty brain. The regiinn domim had made the Presbyterian clergy, the Maynooth grant had made many professors, so subservient to Brit- ish power, that they might be always counted on to exercise their influence over their flocks and pupils against the cause of Ireland's independence. The evident intention of Peels measure was to reduce the great body of the Catholic clergy to the same subserviency. Luckily, this bill, after passing the Commons, was defeated on the second reading in the Lords. The heir-presumptive to the crown, the Duke of York, signalised himself by his hostility to the Catholics on this occasion. He solemnly declared that he would never give his consent to their claims — "never, so help him God!" Meanwhile, the Catholic deputation spent a pleasant time in England. Shiel has written a most amusing sketch of their journey to London, and their doings in that Babylonish metropolis. He tells us how the party of deputies, to which he had annexed himself, travelled in a barouche of O'Connell's; how people at inns asked "Who tlie gentlemen were?" how O'Connell, seated on the box of his barouche, " with a large cloak folded about him, which seemed to be a revival of the famous Irish mantle," attracted the larger portion of the public gaze ; how, on arriving at Wolverhampton, in a spirit of enthusiastic hero-worship, they went in search of Dr. Milner. He relates how hard it was to find him out; how " a damsel of thirty, with a physiognomy which was at once comely and demure, replied to us at first with a mixture of affected ignorance and ostentatious dis- dain, until Sir Thomas Esmonde, ' a marvellous proper man' in every sense of the word, addressed the fair votress of Wesley with a sort of chuck-under-the- chin manner (as Leigh Hunt Avoidd call it), and induced the fan- Methodist to reply, ' If you had asked me for the popish priest, instead of the Catholic bishop, I should have told you that he lived yonder,' pointing to a large but desolate-looking building before us." He then relates how the learned prelate, though by no means discourteous, gave them a reception thoroughly EngUsh in its frigidity ; how, indeed, the aged man totally forgot O'Connell till he told hun who he was; how the decaying embers of his spirit were only kindled wp by the " odium theolngicum " (theological hatred), when Shiel. with sly and malicious pleasantry, mentioned the name of the old contro- versialist's former antagonist, Charles Butler. •These and many other enter- taining particulars are to be found in Shiel's agreeable sketch of this memorable " Journey to London." Money is the great test of worth in England. The Catholic rent made the Association doubly respectable in the eyes of the Mammon-worshipping Eng- lishmen. The members of the deputation were courted by the leading liberal oi'a- tors, Brougham, Burdett, and others. At Brougham's table O'Connell and Shiel dined in company with four dukes, the former sitting between the Dukes of Devonshire and Leinster. They were even feasted in the gorgeous banquet- halls of the great Whig lords. O'Con- nell, Lord Killeen, Shiel, and others were invited to Norfolk House to meet an assemblage of men of the highest rank in England. Among the guests were the Dukes of Sussex, Devonshire and Leinster. Lords Grey, Fitzwilliam, Shrewsbuiy, Donoughmore, Stourton, Clifford, Arun- THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 499 del, Mr. Butler of Lincoln's Inn, Mr. Abercrombie, and Mr. Denman were also there. " I was dazzled," says Shiel, " with the splendour of an entertainment to which I had seen nothing to be compared. Norfolk House is one of the finest in London. It was occupied at one period by members of the royal family, and the duke mentioned that George the Third was born in the room in which Ave dined. I passed through a long series of magni- ficent apartments in crimson and gold. There was no glare of excessive light in this vast mansion. The massive lamps, suspended from the embossed and gilded ceilings, diffused «, chequered illumination and left the deep distance in the dusk. The transition to the chamber, v/here the company were assembled, and which was glaring with light, presented a brilliant contrast. * * * The Duke of Norfolk came forward to meet us, and received us in the most cordial manner." Shiel was most pleased with Lord Fitzwilliam. This venerable nobleman brightened up when Ireland was spoken of. " He re- verted with a Nestorian pride to the period of his own government, and stated that he had preserved the addresses pre- sented to him by the Catholics of Ireland as the best memorials of his life." His great wish seemed to be to live to see emancipation. Introduced thus into the society of the royal Duke of Sussex, the Dukes of Norfolk, Devonshire, and other powerful nobles, O'Connell for a moment yielded to their insidious blandishments. His antagonism to "the wings" softened. He began to think that emancipation, so long delayed, could not be obtained on any terms more favourable than those now apparently within reach. The most influential Catholics of England Avere far from being hostile to "the wings." The Whigs wished the bill to pass with "the v/ings," expecting that it would give them additional Parliamentary partisans. Of course, Shiel, even more easily than O'Connell, fell into this way of viewing the prospects of the Catholic question. A motion, made by Brougham, that O'Connell and Shiel should be heai-d at the bar of the Commons on behalf of the Association, was defeated. In the de- bate Peel, opposing the motion, com- mitted an act of gioss indiscretion, a most unusual thing Avith him. Referring to an address presented by the Association to the venerable "United Irish" eader, Archibald Hamilton Rowan, "he be- came," says Mr. Shiel, "heated with victory, and. cheered as he was repeatedly by his multitudhious partisans, tui'ned suddenly towards the part of tlie House Avhere the deputies Avere seated, and looking triumphantly at Mr. O'Connell, with Avhom he forgot for a moment that he had been once engaged in a personal quarrel, shook his hand Avith scornful exultation, and asked Avhether the House- required any better evidence tlian the- address of the Association "to an at- tainted traitor." Brougham made a A'ehemeut and crushing reply to this- ebullition of bad taste and bitter, bigoted feeling. He asked Peel, " Hoav dare ha speak thus of one on whom his sove- reign had smiled?" alluding to George the Fourth's gracious reception of Mr. RoAvan. O'Connell, though not allowed to plead against the suppression of the Associa- tion at the bar of the Hoiise of Commons, Avhere he could easily have shcAvn that the Catholic organisation was in no- respect illegal, and that, in the words of one of the Irish petitions against the- hostile bill, "the 'rent' was not a toar levied on the Irish people, but a volun- tary contribution " for the purpose of educating the poor, and obtaining legal redress for the peasantry, yet found an opportunity of producing a great impres- sion on the English Catholics, by his- powerful oratory, at a vast meeting held in the "Freemasons' Hall," London, over Avhich the Duke of Norfolk, England's premier duke, presided. O'Connell Avas very solicitous about the impression he should produce on this occasion. Even Charles Butler, a severe but excellent critic, Avas greatly struck Avith his elo- quence; and Buuer was scarcely likely to be a judge partial to our hero. O'Con- nell was also examined before the House of Lords on the subject of "Pastorini's Prophecies." As evidence of their dis- loyalty, the Catholic clergy Avere accused of circulating this book. O'Connell's testimony Avent to sheAv that the Catholic clergy and laity had in reality discouraged its circulation. A letter of Dr. Doyle's had discountenanced the "prophecies" in the strongest terms. O'Connell main- tained that they were printed and circu- lated by "persons not of the Catholic persuasion." His acuteness also detected that the mention of the year 1825, as the 500 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. ominous year, was a misprint for 1828. It appears that "the prophecy fixes upon a period of three hundred years" from the establishment of the Protestant j^er- suasion — that is, from the 14th or 19th of April, 1529 — for the return of Pro- testants to the ancient faith. The calcu- lation, then, was made by Pastorini from 1628. This whole monstrous humbug is a subject of little interest now. However, it is proper to make this slight reference to it, because O'Connell's replies to the interrogatories put to liim created in the minds of those who listened to him a large belief in the range of his mental powers. His questioners seemed to think Dr. Doyle the only Irishman who could enter into intellectual rivalry with him. On the other hand, O'Connell was far from reciprocating the complimentary feeling. He rather coincided with Dr. Doyle's contemptuous criticism of those "potent, grave, and reverend signiors:" "Pshaw! such silly questions as they put ! I think in all my life I never en- countered sucli a parcel of old fools !" This ''journey to London," however, produced at the time, no favourable practical result. On the contrary, while the emancipation bill, even with its two ■"wings" — the abolition of the forty- shilling freeholders and the payment of the Catholic clergy — was defeated, the bill to suppress the Association passed. " 1'here can be no question," says Fagan, " that O'Connell was treated with great perfidy in the course of these negotia- tions. He was led to believe that eman- cipation was certain, provided it were accompanied with the ' wings.' Every one at the time in London, who was mixed in the matter, believed it. Blake, the chief remembrancer, who was then in London, and on terms of political inter- course with the leading political men of the day, has since often stated that the matter was settled. Plunket was him- self deceived, and was thus the means of deceiving O'Connell and the rest of the deputation. The system of deceit was carried so far as to induce O'Connell to attend the levee of the Duke of York." It would appear, from a statement of the late Kichard Barrett, proprietor of the Dublin PUot^ that, while the fate of the bill Avas pending, O'Connell called very early one morning at Plunket's residence in London, by appointment; that Plunket rose hurriedly, came out to him, shook him heartily by the hand, and Baid, — "O'Connell, I congratulate you; the conference has not broken up an hour. I got up to tell you all is decided; Ca- tholic emancipation will be granted before a fortnight, and without any of the con- ditions to which you objected." These were no doubt some of the ecclesiastical ones. Canning. Huskisson, even Lord Liverpool and Peel, had agreed to grant the measure. Unfortunately, however, Lord Eldou's concurrence had not been secured. O'Connell thought he might have been won over. At this time a Mr. Prendergast was stopping in the house with Plunket. In some»manner he be- came cognisant of the nature of the interview. He told all about it in the clubs. When Lord Eldon heard what had been resolved on, he hastened to the Duke of York and inflamed his bigotry. After having delivered his furious speech against emancipation, the duke followed his brother, the king, to the theatre, where he was warmly received. The king and the heir-presumptive were evi- dently against the measure. Its failure was the consequence. Lord Liverpool, the premier, soon veered round and delivered what was called his " ether speech,'' in order to remove the impres- sion that he had given way on the subject of emancipation. He was accustomed to take ether on important occasions. To the influence of an overdose were attri- buted sundry expressions of unusual vehemence. He stated "that the late Catholic relief bill was a heap of trasli and nonsense ; " " that it was a disgraceful measure ; " that it was so sent ujj by the Commons as to place the Lords "in a most awkward situation ; " that if it be- came law "the Protestant succession would not be worth five farthings," and other extravagances in the same style. The Edinhurgh Revieiv gave high praise to the conduct of the delegation in London. It also contended that the debate in Parliament had clearly brought out the fact that the Association had restored and maintained the peace of Ireland. "Of eleven counties," writes the reviewer, " half a year before pro- claimed by the Curfew Act, not one now remained disturbed. Rents were peace- fully paid, Captain Rock no longer trained the nightly bands of depredators," etc. The Association, acting under the legal advice of O'Comiell, to satisfy the THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 501 law, dissolved itself. Tliis was in ac- cordance with his usual tactics. Of course, immediately afterwards, it was reconstituted under the name of "The New Catholic Association." This he humorously called " driving a coach-and- six through an Act of Parliament." In truth, the bill for the suppression of the Association became practically a dead letter. The Association virtually lived and pursued its triumphant career. Be- fore their apparent dissolution, the mem- bers published a valedictory address, in which, witli a certain ."honest pride," they asserted their claims to the gratitude of the country.' The establishment of "the rent" alone formed a substantial claim to that gratitude. At this period they had more than £12,000 over their expenses lodged in bank. The weekly income of the Association had sometimes approached £2,000. O'Connell's popularity was temporarily shaken by his consenting to the proposal to disfranchise "the forty-shilling free- holders." We find him engaged in epis- tolary controversy with Jack Lawless upon this subject. The Catholic nobles — indeed, the AVhig aristocracy of Eng- land in general — had, by their honeyed blandishments, beguiled our hero into a momentary delusion. He had begun to think that it was best to make the required sacrifices, in order to gain imme- diate emancipation. "There is in our country," said he, " an inexhaustible mine of intellectual and physical strength." This mine he was led to believe would be develojDcd forthwith, if Burdett's Catholic relief bill were at once passed. The vast natural capabilities and resom'ces of Ireland woidd lie no longer idle and unworked. Ireland would rival England in wealth. And then, though he con- fessed that he had consented to the dis- franchisement of such of the forty-shilling freeholders as '■' held their lands at a rack-rent, or who were tenants in com- mon," he asserted that he had never agreed to the disfranchisement of those whose condition was at all like that of the English yeomanry. His popularity, how- ever, was speedily re-established. When he found that it was likely to be weakened by his facility and compliance on the question of "the wings," he promptly and frankly retracted, and took his stand once more with the vast majority of his countrymen for nnquoli/ied emancipation. "It had been well, indeed," says Mr. Mitchel, " if he had firmly held his ground against both tiiose wings to the last." His reception at llowth, on the 1st of June, 1825, on his return from Lon- don, was warm and flattering in the extreme. The small town and the land- ing-place were crowded witli thousands of people, in vehicles of all sorts, on horseback and on foot. All these were eagerly straining their eyes — many gazing through telescopes — to catch the first glimpse of " the man of the people " on the deck of the approaching vessel. "There he is;" "Where?" "That's not he;'' "It is;" — such cries arose excitedly and continuously on all sides. Rapturous shouts arose as his tall form was seen moving from the quarter-deck and along the gangway to the shore. The shouts were redoubled, and friends thronged around him to grasp his hand, as his foot touched the shore. Seated in an open carriage with his wife and two daughters, he drove along towards Dub- lin, followed by a mighty train. In Dublin tl\e populace took the horses from his carriage and drew him home to Merrion Square in triumph On appear- ing in the balcony of his house he was greeted with tremendous acclamations. "I truly pity," said he, "those who cannot love such a people, and would not die for such a country as Ireland." A few days after his arrival in Dublin he attended an aggregate meeting in Anne Street Chapel. At this meeting Stephen Coppinger, one of the most consistent and persevering champions of the Catholic cause, delivered an able speech in support of a resolution that a committee be appointed to prepare petitions to both Houses of Parliament for the full and uiiqualifiid emancipation of the Catholics of Ireland." He gave some hard hits to the Duke of York for his " so-help-me-God" harangue. "It was a pity that this pious Bishop of Osnaburg " (the royal duke, though a lay- man, was Bishop of Osnaburg in hisfafJier's Electorate of Hanover) — "for tire duke holds episcopal dignity — had not at hand his favourite clerk to respond ' Am»n.' " This was a sly allusion to Mrs. Clarke, the royal bishop-commander- in-chief 's mistress, who had trafficked extensively in the sale of commissions in the British army; indeed, her profli- o-ate dealings had formed the subject m% THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. of a delicate investigation. " The duke," continues Mr. Coppinger, " has declared — an incredible statement — that his father's sufferings had originated in the agitation of the Catholic question. * * * In alluding to his royal father, the pious duke had burst into tears. His filial affection was not so warm when he required to be paid so prodigious a sum as £10,000 a-year for visiting his blind, hoary father once a-month." Coppinger also attacked the Marquis of Anglesea for his apparent readiness to suppress Catholic emancipation with the sword. But for the generous manner in which Catholic blood flowed for his defence at Waterloo, the marquis, said Jlr. Coppin- ger, '-would not be alive to display his mili- tary eloquence in the House of Lords." Mr. Coppinger was a great enthusiast about Xapoleon. He was fond of making allusions in his speeches to the imperial eagle; also to "the stars and stripes" of the American republic. The broad- ness of his southern accent somewhat marred the effect of his speeches. He was a pale, thin man. In his student- days his circumstances were straitened. O'Connell once said, referring to some- thing mysterious, " It is as hard to find out as Stephen Coppinger's lodgings." Coppinger had occasional differences of opinion with our hero. They squabbled on the question of Catholic burial- grounds, Coppinger objecting to some points insisted on by O'Connell. The great man at once retaliated in a style half humorous, half savage: — "Boys," said ho, addressing an audience in which his praitorian guard of coal-porters was fully represented — "boys, did you ever see such an ugly or a more hungry- looking fellow? Stingy Stephen refuses to give VIS the light of his countenance — oh wirrasthrue ! ''^ Dan afterwards nick- named Coppinger " the knight of the rueful countenance." Coppinger used to tell himself that, immediately after the achievement of emancipation, O'Connell met him, and exclaiited, " WeU, Coppinger, you see I have emancipated you." "Rather," re- plied Coppinger, half in joke and half in earnest, "rather say that, notwithstand- ing all your efforts to the contiary, we succeeded in obtaining the blessings of emancipation." Mr. Coppinger is said to have been full of anecdotes of his con- temporaries "of an exclusive character." At this meeting Lawless proposed a resolution, which was intended as a thrust at O'Connell, to the effect that the Catholics of Ireliind had not authorised their assent to be given to " the wings." He was received, we learn from the Evening Post, with hisses. There were also cries of "Off! off!" and he wants to disunite us." Lawless tried to get a hearing. He said, "I am to-day the friend of unanimity, and, far from dis- senting from ]\Ir. O'Connell, I congratu- late him on his return to those principles which he formerly advocated, and a dejiarture from which was to me a cause of distress and pain." Still, he blamed the London delegation. He earnestly deuounced "the wings." But his voice was drowned in mingled disapprobation and applause. Charles Teeling seconded the resolution, many others pressing for- ward to do so. The clamour and con fusion waxed louder. Finally, Lawless withdrew his resolution. After several other speakers had been heard, O'Connell rose to address the meeting amidst the most vehement accla- mations. He looked gay, bold, confident and genial. He was dressed in v.'hatwas styled the uniform of the Associtition— " a blue frock adorned with black silk buttons, a black velvet collar, and a gilt button on the shoulder; the vest yellow, and the trousers white. Soon he cairied the meetmg along with him. He was humorous and eloquent as usual. He laughed at the prospect of the Kildare Street Society losing the management of £22,000 a-year. "Oh, how sleek and how slim the saints will look, with their eyes turned up, and their hands in their empty breeches pockets!" His droll mimicry of the saints set the whole meeting in a roar. He called on them " to rally and unite around the standard of liberty'. I have promised in England that there shall be a new Catholic Association.'^ He happily ridiculed Lord Liverpool's promise to Lord Lonsdale, possessor of eight rotten borouglis and nineteen seats in the House of Commons, with which "he traffics as cattle are sold in Smith - field market," to put down the Catholic question. It was " alive and merry," notwithstanding. He artfully passed over " the wings" Avithout any notice, in spite of Lawless's provocations. Cheers arose when he said, " 'Tis true we have been defeated, but we are not dismayed ; we THE LIFE OP DANIEL OCONKiiLL. 503 have been betrayed, but are unconquered still." He also referred to the extraordi- nary conversion of Mr. Brownlow, the head of the Orange party in Ireland, to the (^Jatholic cause, as a hopeful symp- tom. Speaking of that gentleman's vic- tory over his own prejudices, our hero said: — '-Mi'. Brownlow was too honour- able, too honest, not to retract his error openly, generously, and nobly, when he discovered it." At this meeting Shiel proyjosed a census of the Catholics of Ireland to shew their strength ; he also suggested aggregate meetings in all the parish chapels tliroughout Ireland, and petitions from all the parishes. O'Con- nell's horses were taken from his carriage on this day also. The bill which suppressed the Catholic Association prohibited any society for the redress of political grievances or the defence of causes in courts of justice from holding meetings beyond fourteen days. To evade this, it was declared that the Association should not act under the pretence or for the purpose of pro- curing redress of grievances in Church and State, or of carrjdng on civil or criminal causes. Its professed objects were — 1st, The promotion of peace and concord; 2d, Encouragement of liberal and religious education ; 3d, To ascertain the population, and the number of per- sons belonging to each persuasion ; 4th, To build churches and establish Catholic burial-grounds ; 6th, To promote improve- ments in science and agriculture in Ire- land, and to encourage Irish manufactui'es and commerce; Gth, To support an en- lightened press, circulate works advocat- ing just principles, and vindicate Catholic principles against slanderous attacks ; 7th, To prepaie full statements and authentic refutations of the various charges made against Catholics in recent hostile peti- tions to Parliament. Every person pay- ing £1 as an admission fee, before a certain day, was to be enrolled as a member. After that day, any one desirous to become one, in addition to that payment, should be proposed and seconded by a meiuber. The new Association embraced men of all sects. O'Connell caused Counsellor Bellew's name to be omitted from the committee of twenty-one pro- minent Catholics appointed to frame this society, boldly casting in his teeth his pensions from Government for unknown services. Bellew had provoked O'Con- nell by volunteering an opinion that Goulbourn's bill could not be evaded. " The undergrowl of poor Jack Lawless," writes our hero in a letter to the Catho- lics, "and his few and foolish partisans may be, as it has been, a mere source of laughter and ridicule ; but Air. William Bellew stands in a very diiferent situa- tion. * * * Mr. William Bellew de- serves none of your confidence. * * * He certainly has two, and I firmly believe three, pensions. * * * Who paid his fee? Who called on him, a Catholic, to publish an opinion hostile certainly to Catholic rights? * * * ' Hie nigei- est ; himc tu Romane caveto.' " {He IS black-hearted; do you, Roman, beware of him.) The committee of twenty- one sat fifteen days and issued a report, which was adopted by the Catholics of Ireland. It suggested the fourteen days' meetings, which I shall notice immediately. Meanwhile a clique, or party, that had sprung up in Dublin, called the Mahon party, from one of its leaders, Mcholas Mahon the merchant, continued for some time to censure O'Connell severelj^ for the course he had pursued in London re- specting " the wings." At a meeting in Bridge Street Chapel in July, 1825, from which this clique (nicknamed by our hero " the Bridge Street gang") wanted to exclude all persons not inhabitants of St. Audeon's parish, O'Connell suddenly appears in the gallery while the discussiou is going on. John Reynolds — afterwards a loud Dublin demagogue, one year lord- mayor of that city, and during one Par- liament its representative in the House of Commons — makes his political debut on this occasion as a backer of O'ConnelL A vote of thanks, proposed by Mr. Forde and seconded by Mr. M-Loughlin, gave our hero an opportunity of speaking in vindication of his public conduct. He boasts of his opposition to the union and his great sacrifices. He briskly engages Nicholas Mahon and Richard O'Gorman. The latter, he says, he has " detected in a mistake of £20." Here Nicholas Mahon interrupts him. Nicholas will not "listen to such reflections upon one of the most respectable of the parishioners. I ask," says he, " Does Mr. O'Connell come here to abuse and insult us?" " I disclaim," says O'Connell, " any such intention. It is proverbial that those who serve their country are invariably repaid with in- 504 THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. gratitude and injustice. They always find some calumniators prepared and anxious to destroy their fame and injure their honour."' Here Richard takes his turn at interruption ; he cannot digest the word " calumniators." The flow of O'Connell's speech is hardly checked for a moment. His conduct with regard to the forty-shilling freeholders he almost admits to be blameworthy. He tells the meeting that the report of the committee of twenty-one is just ready, and that it condemns the introduction of the measure of disfranchisement. At the aggregate meeting of Catholics whic'n took place in Clarendon Street Chapel a few days after this scene, O'Conuell skilfully evaded the snares of Goulbourn's act in a cautious speech. Shicl, on the other hand, uttered a harangue as violent as it was eloquent. Against the Duke of York especially he hurled such fierce words as the following: " He has inherited his father's under- standing; may he never inherit his throne." The duke's brothers, George IV. and William IV., never forgot or forgave this bitter invective of Shiel's. It prevented, in the latter king's reign, the fiery-tongued little orator's appoint- ment to the office of solicitor-genei^al, which would necessarily have led to his elevation to the bench ; and this in spite of some pathetic rhetorical repentance spoken at the time of the Duke of York's death. i^bout this period we have the exciting spectacle of a curious and somewhat comical war between O'Connell and Cobbett. I'he latter assails our hero virulently about "the wings." lie says it is too bad that Mr. O'Conuell, after having confessed himself a dupe, should be suffered " to roam about the country, boasting of his long services and great sacrifices, and carrying in appearance all the brains and all the virtues of Ireland about in his pocket." Again Cobbett charges him with corruption, and then retracts the charge. Also he says, " I impute to him inordinate vanity — vanity greater than my pen can paint." O'Con- nell, in reply, says that in a former letter he had styled Cobbett "a comical mis- creant. I now withdraw the appellation. Cobbett is comical only when he means to be serious; when he intends to be jocose he is truly doleful; but, serious or jocose, he is at all times a miscreant. In lieu of the name I thus retract, I will of my bounty bestow on him another denom- ination, which, although conferred by me as a matter of courtesy, he has most richly earned — I will call him in future a ' vile vagabond.' * * * He is malignant, he is treacherous, he is false. * * * He has outlived his intellect. It cannot be said of him that his ' wine of life is on the lees' because wine is too generous a liquor to enter into the comparison; but ' his gin of existence is on the dregs,' and that fluid, which, while it flowed copiously and clearly, was pungent and intoxicating almost to madness, is now but a muddy residuum, productive of sickness and nausea, and incapable of giving one exhilarating sensation." He accuses Cobbett of inventing a conver- sation about tlie Bridge Street meeting. "Do not shuffle, Cobbett." After point- ing out some apparent contradictions in his adversary's statements, and wliat he calls "the unblushing effrontery of this my vile vagabond," he says, " He shall be a comical miscreant again — so he shall." In spite of the fun on both sides, this quarrel between the mettlesome popular chieftain of the Irish and the equally com- bative leader of the English radicals was greatly to be regretted. O'Connell used to defend his unsparing, if not unscru- pulous, use of invective oddly enough > — " If I did not use the sledge hammer to smash opponents, I never could have suc- ceeded." He is stated to have .said, in con- versation with a friend of one of his biographers (Fagan), that it was not always irritation, that it was often calculntioH , which made him indulge in unmeasured vituperation. At all events^ it should be ever remembered, in palliation of his excess of irritability and virulence, that no man was ever more frequently provoked by in- human and unfounded slanders than Ae was. But neither Cobbett's attacks, nor those of his other enemies, in the slightest degree impaired our hero's popularity — at least permanently. This year, outside his own circuit, he visited Antrim, Newry, Galway, and Wexford. Wherever he went he moved along in triumph. His entries into various towns and cities re- sembled those of a conqueror returning home from some great battle. In Gal- way the horses were taken from his carriage. In Cork his reception was flattering. In Mallow he had to implore the people to let the carriage pass on THE LIFE OF DANIEL O COrfNTELL. 505 quietly, in consideration of tlie delicfite health of Mm. O'Coiinell, who was with him. Ajtpi'oaching Wexford, he was met at "the Pass" by a flotilla of boats on the Slaney. He had to go on board a barge manned by first-rate rowers, dressed in green and gold, and having a green flag bearing on its folds a crownless harp, in the stern. Joyous crowds lined the river-banks and shouted enthusias- tically as he was rowed along. Wexford town was all alive and astir. Thousands stood on tlie quay and bridge to welcome him. Tl:c same evening he wa& enter- tained at a public dinner. I barely notice an unpleasant affair that occurred at the close of the year 1825. O'Connell was reported to have said, when speaking at one of the Catholic meetings of the attempts at proselj'tism of the Hibernian Society in Kerry, that Mr. Leyne, a barrister and bi'other of that Captain Leyne who was afterwards made a stipendiary magistrate by our hero's influence, had renounced Popery in order to inflict pain on an aged father. Mr. Lej^ne sent a message to O'Connell, who. full of remorse on account of D'Esterre's death, had b}' this time " registered a vow in heaven," to use his own singular phrase, against duelling. O'Connell could not now be goaded to fight in the face of his scruples of conscience. In vain Leyne tried to offer him personal insult, and called him a liar, a slanderer and a coward, O'Con- nell lodged informations, and had Leyne bound over in large securities to keep the peace. Maurice O'Connell, our hero's eldest hope, was willing to answer any claim Leyne might have on his father. Leyne, having no quarrel with jMaurice, begged to decline availing himself of his handsome offer. Then Maurice and his brother IMorgan waited near the Four Courts to meet and chastise Leyne for his abuse of their father. They withdrew, however, on being recognised by the people. As soon as O'Connell heard of the intentions of his sons, he lodged informations against them and his son- in-law", JMr. Fitzsimon. Mr. jMorgan O'Connell was arrested in the theatre, Mr. Fitzsimon in our hero's own house; ]Mr. Maurice O'Connell had left Dublin, but shortly after was taken in Tralee. All three had to find bail. The enactment prohibiting any society for the redress of grievances from holding its meetings beyond fourteen days was intended to cripple the power of the Catholic movement. Its actual result was to add immensely to the strength and influence of the agittition. When, on the 16th of January, 1826. one of these fourteen - day meetings commenced its sittings in the Catholic Rooms, on Burgli Quay. Dublin, those who were indignant at seeing the Association in its former shape, imitating the deliberations ox the legislature, were now vexed and mortified to see a much more formidable assembly debating upon all the national grievances. In addition to the members accustomed to meet at the weekly meetings of the Catholic body, leading men, lay and clerical, flocked up to Dublin from all parts of the island and took an active part in the discussions. The authority of a national convention was virtually added to the Catholic assembly. It was plain that O'Connell had skilfully accom- plished the remarkable feat of " driving his coach-and-six through the Act of Parliament." It was vain imagination on the part of ministers to think of suppressing Ireland's complaints. ^Vith violent nervous gestures, and shrill voice, and vehement eloquence, Shiel descanted on the Catholic's pesition of inferiority in the land of his fathers. At this fourteen- day gathering of Catholic might, O'Con- nell set himself right on the subject of " the wings," by a resolution, that their "petition shall embrace the pjinciplo of iinqualijicd emancipation to its fullest extent," and that they deprecated " any measure tending to restrict the elective franchise or interfering Avitii the discipHne or independence of the Catholic Church." This great fourteen-day meeting was followed by formidable provincial meet- ings. The Cathohcs invited their Pro- testant friends to participate in these. All over the country the different ranks of society were brought together. IMutual confidence waxed stronger. All were taught to stand " shoulder to shoulder for liberty." The eloquence of the more educated kindled the wrath of the masses — alike the peasantry and the woi king- men of the towns. The deliberations on these occasions most frequently lasted two days. On the third a dinner took place, at which Catholics and Protestants sat side by side. The first of these pro- vincial meetings was the Limerick one — a tremendous gathering, presided over by Thomas Wyse. Other immense meetings 506 THE LIFE OF DANIEL o'cONNELL. svtcceeded — at Waterford, at Cork and elsewhere. These meetings were looked upon as important events in the country, and produced far greater and more durable effects in their respective localities than any similar assemblies could do in Dublin. O'Connell missed none of them. He seemed ubiquitous, and was now more than ever the soul of the entire Catholic inovement. It was idle even to dream for a moment of putting him down. After the Dubhn fourteen-days' meet- ing, O'Connell had a funny squabble with the press. He complained that the reports of his speeches were inaccurate. The Morning Register " took up the cudgels " against him on behalf of the reporters: — "We admit that the reports" (of his speeches) " did not in length go much beyond seventy columns." They did not give all he said, for " that would require Mr. Thwaites's broad sheet. Any one who measures by a stop-watch will find that Mr. O'Connell pours out about two hundred words in one minute." It is only seven or eight minutes' trouble to him "to fill a column of small print." What are any number of minutes' speaking to him? In a five hours' sitting he will contrive sometimes to be three hours on his legs; and in three hours he will positively pour out twenty-two columns and a quarter of oratory ! " TIi e Frc cman\ are derided. Obvious puns on his name, convulse the people with laughter. ' The scorn and detesta- tion." says Richard Lalor Shiel, "with which he was treated by the mob, clearly proved that a priest has no influence over them when he attempts to run counter to their political passions." Shiel heard a priest on this platform say sometjiing to the populace in Irish. In a moment ten thousand peasants knelt and prayed. It was for the repose of the soul of a bribed voter of Fitzgerald's, who had just died. He had taken the bribery oath. Tlius the day passed. At night, in a small room of a mean tavern, all the leading patriots and "divers interloping partakers of electioneering hospitalities " would assemble to refresh exhausted nature. Huge piles of food were strewed on the deal boards and hungrily devoured. Then toasts were drunk, and exulting " hip, hip, hurras " followed. AVhyte would mimic the high -sheriff riding on an elephant in Calcutta. The tears of Sir Edward O'Brien and the blank looks of Hickman, Fitzgerald's conducting agent, gave food for endless mockery and mirth. But now Father Murphy's sepulchral voice would startle the revellers: '-The wolf, the wolf is on the walk ! Shepherds of the people, %hat do you here? Is it meet that you should sit in joyance while the freeholders remain unprovided, and temptation, in the shape of famine, is amongst tliem? Acise, I say, arise; the wolf is on the walk." Shiel tells us that "Nothing was com- paiable to the aspect of Father Murphy upon these occasions, except the physi- ognomy of Mr. Lawless. * * * The look of despair with which he surveyed tliis unrelenting foe to conviviality was almost as ghastly as that of his merciless dis- turber. " Meanwhile, below stairs the priests were employed m giving the peas- ant-voters, who lived too far from Ennis to. return home, orders to victuallers and tavern-keepers to furnish the bearers with meat and beer. The use of whisky was sternly interdicted. Nothing could ex- ceed the assiduity of the prices in the performance of this duty, which some- times lasted far into the morning, save the patience with which the peasants, some of whom had not tasted food for twenty-four hours, waited each for his turn to speak to "his reverence." In truth, the self-denial of the Clare peas- antry, their spurning the temptation of bribes, above all, their devotion and moral courage in braving the vengeance of their offended landlords, at whose mercy most of them lay so completely, appealed forcibly to every generous heart. The soldiery began to feel the deepest sym- pathy with them. The British empire was in manifest danger. In truth, the Clare election was a tremendous event. The day it ended Cathohc emancipation was virtually won ! And at length the poll did close. . For O'Connell, there were two thousand and fifty-seven votes; for Fitzgerald, one thousand and seventy-five. It was argued before the assessor, Mr. Keatmge, that a Catholic could not be legally returned. But the objection was overruled, as it rested with the House of Commons itself to exclude a representative, if he refused the oath tendered to him. Wherefore O'Connell was declared duly elected. Our hero seems to have arrived at the conclusion that, though a Catholic was legally excluded from the Irish Farlia- nient and from the English Parliament, no law existed to prevent him from taking his seat in the Imperial Pailiament. On the final day of ' the election the court-house was once more crowded. Mr. Fitzgerald appeared at the head of THE LIFE OP DANIEL O CONNELL. 521 the baffled and beaten aristocracy of Clare. He made no effort to hide the pain he felt, but lie gained the respect alike of friends and foes by the liigh-bred calmness with which he bore his over- throw. O'Connell made a speech fulJ of generous feeling and admirable taste ; he begged Mr. Fitzgerald to forgive him for any offence he might have given him the first day. Mr, Fitzgerald unaffectedly assured him that whatever was said should be forgotten. " He was again hailed," says Shiel, "with universal acclamation, and delivered a speech which could not surpass in good judgment and persuasive- ness that with which he had opened the contest, but was not inferior to it." Mr. Shiel also tells us that during the contest Mr. Fitzgerald could not conceal his astonishment and gloomj^ forebodings. At moments he would wholly forget him- self and seem lost in melancholy reflec- tions on the possibility of terrible events to come. "Where is all this to end?" was a question frequently put in his pre- sence, from replying to which he seemed to shrink. At the close of the poll, IVIr. Shiel himself delivered an eloquent, gener- ous, and wise speech. Such was the memorable Clare elec- tion — perhaps the most important one in the entire historj^ of English, Irish, and Scotch elections. Two elections only can for a mcffnent stand in comparison with it — the Middlesex election in the last century, in which the demagogue Jack Wilkes is the prominent figure, and that Tipperary election which returned O'Donovan (Rossa), an Irish rebel suf- fering penal servitude under the treason- felony act, to the British House of Commons The Clare election is cer- tainly far more historically noteworthy than that of Middlesex. But should Ireland ever shake off the dominion of Great Britain, it will hardly be considered a more momentous event than the Tip- perary election of 1869. However, at the time it occurred, the Clare election was pronounced in England " the most extraordinary event that had ever occurred under a system of popular representation." It was also said that, by this stroke, O'Connell had eff(.'cted more in one day for the libeiTvtion of Ireland "than had been done in forty years by all other men." Of course, the infuriated aristo- cracy hated him now more inveterately than ever. When the election was over, O'Con- nell was chaired through Ennis. Sixty thousand men (probably this is exaggera- tion) are said to have surrounded and followed him, bearing green boughs. Houses, great and small, were decorated with evergreens or other bouglis. In Limerick he was received enthusiastically. His whole progress to Dublin was a trimnphal march. Vast crowds of horse- men (the numbers stated are hardly credible) formed his escort on the way. Numbers of persons got him to frank letters for them. These letters demon- strated everywhere that "the man of the people" was the member for Clare. It is impossible to give any adequate idea of the intensity of the joy and triumph with which the nation's heart beat high. In one week the rent reacl^d a sum not much less than £3,000. Much about the same time jack Law- less was on his way* to the North, at- tended, in every district he passed through, by a vast escort of peasantry. V\'hen he was approaching Ballibay, in Monaghan, an immense force of Orangemen assembled there to attack him and his followers. These last were in no way desirous of avoiding the encounter. Indeed, it re- quired the exertions of the clergy and the friendly remonstrances of the military commandant of the district, General Thornton, to prevent a collision. Law- less, to 'the chagrm and anger of his numerous followers, who wanted to ad- vance, left his carriage, took horse, and turned back. He does not seem to have merited the reproach which this retreat brought on his head. His conduct arose not from any lack of courage, but from a humane disinclination to countenance useless bloodshed. It was on tMs oc- casion that the Orange partisan, Sam Gray, so notorious for years in Ireland, first signalised himself and won the nick- name of General Gray. The Association was becoming more formidable than ever. Thomas AVyse of Waterford planned a new arrangement. " liberal clubs " were established all over the island. The Association was the principal club. In every county and again in every parish similar clubs under its control, were established. To be able to read was a necessary condition of admission to the parish club. The sub- scription was trifling. The parish club elected its own president, secretary, and 522 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. treasurer. The secretary of the county club directed it. Later this year (in November) a soKcitor, named Forde, proposed, with the sanction of O'Con- nell, a system of exclusive dealing ; that the people shoiUd not "deal with no- torious Orangemen; and further, that a preference in dealmg should be given by Roman Catholics to those who dissent from them in religion, but who may have proved by their acts that they are friendly to civil and religious liberty." Lord Cloncurry argued against this. N. F. O'Gorman, too, opposed it. It was finally negatived. Forde's resolution was to have been followed up by a run on the banks. Wyse says it would, if carried, have disorganised Irish society speedily, -and reduced the minister to the alternative of a war of extermination or a hurried and reluctant concession of Catholic claims." In tratli, it" was tlie mere menace of the^e revolutionary mea- sures which, in all probability, caused that emancipal ion meeting in the llotunda which was presided over by the Duke of Leinster, and based on a declaration in favour of emancipation, signed by two dukes, twenty-seven earls, two counts, eleven viscounts, twenty-two barons, and the same number of baronets. Certainly, this meeting greatly tended to make Wellington and Peel see the necessity of conceding the relief bill of April, 1829. O'Connell is said to have given that meeting the credit of being the imme- diate cause of the concession to the demands of the Catholics. Shortly after the C'lare election an- other occurrence took place, which was regarded by many as an infallible sign that emancipation was fast approaching. This ^as the speech delivered at DeiTy by "Derry Dawson," as he was styled, Peel's brother-in-law, and a member of the Government. The Orangemen of Derry were furious when they heard this trusted Orange leader admitting at once the vast power of the Catholic Associa- tion and the necessity of disarming it by settling the Catholic question. He re- pudiated any return to the penal-law system. The bigoiji who listened to him ti'ied his temper by interruptions of every kind. His novel sentiments of toleration made them frantic. They hissed and hooted when he regretted " the degraded state of liis Catholic countrymen." No- thing would content them but the violent suppression of the Association. Dawson was at length goaded to say, "I cannot express too strongly the contempt I feel for the persons who thus attempt to put me down." He would not "condescend to ask their votes, though their suffrages would secure his return." Dawson lost his seat in Parliament, in consequence of this oration. The Orange party never forgave his backslidings, his compromise with "Jesebel." It was believed at the time by many that his speech was made to order; that his crafty brother-in-law had desu-ed him to make it as " a feeler," tliereby to test the spirit in which minis- terial concessions to the Catholics would be received by the Ascendency faction. Much about the same time, at Manchester, Peel evaded speaking to the toast of " Protestant Ascendency." The bigots made a last desperate rally. " Brunswick clubs " were established in numerous localities. At Ennis, a meet- ing, called by the high-sheriff, assembled to form one. O'Gorman Mahon went to Ennis to oppose it, but he was refused admittance to the meeting. The sheriff and magistrates, fearing that their pro- ceedings might cause disturbance, had summoned to Ennis a detachment of troops from Clare Castle. O'Gorman Mahon expressed his opinions pretty freely to the othcer in command. Wel- lington was indignant with Lord Anglesea for not dismissing from the magistnicy O'Gorman J\Iahon, for this conversation with the officer, and Tom Steele for adjuring his auditors, on one occasion, "by their allegiance to the Association, to be tranquil." The duke also blamed the marquis for giving interviews to O'Connell, Lawless,, and others. The viceroy gave what appear to me satis- factory explanations of his conduct. O'Gorman Mahon's " breach of decorum " was not indictable. Steele's expressions had not been deposed to. TJie inter- views I'f^ally amounted to nothing. It appears that the miserable king was terribly vexed at the notion of the viceroy having granted interviews to those des- perate conspu-ators and violators of peace, law and order — the agitators. Lord Anglesea was every day becoming more and more disinclined to use military violence against the Irish people. He was fast growing alarmed, too, at the increasing exciters tnt of pnbHc feeling, aucl commg to the conclusion that it was THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 523 hopeless to thiiik of subduing tlie Asso- ciation. "The carrying of party flags is illegal Put them down, and what do you gain by it? * * * The meetings will continue." " The Brunswick clubs" embari-ass him as much as the Associa- tion. He is in dread of an insurrection. He writes to Lord Leveson Gower : — "The final success of the Catholics is inevitable; no power imder heaven can avert its progress." Even by suppressing a rebellion they would only " put off the day of compromise " Elsewhere he says: — ''No coercive legislative measures will get rid of existing evils unaccompanied by concession." ' One of Anglesea's sons and some of his staff visited a meeting of the Association, where they were re- cognised. This indiscretion gave great offence to "the powers that be." A letter written by the marquis to the Ca- tholic pnmate, Dr. Cui;tis, in some unac- countable way came to light. In this letter he gives his opinion as to what the Catholics should do in the most sympa- thetic way. He does not agree with the Duke of Wellington, who, in a letter to Dr. Curtis, had expressed a wish that the question could be buried in oblivion for a short time. On the contrary, Anglesea thinks the Catholics should not for a moment lose sight of their cause, but resort to every legal means "to forward" it. It IS not wonderful that his lordship was recalled in January, 1829. As this dashing soldier had become a great favourite with the Irish people, enor- mous crowds accompanied him to Kings- town to bid him farewell. He was a sort of popular idol for a time with the credulous Irish. Indeed, he was natur- ally a good man. His letter to Lord Cloncurry, m .which he consults him as to tlie means he should tnke to recom- mend himself to the Irish, is immeasur- ably droll, though the writer was probably unconscious of the fun: — "I see a sub- scription for the distressed manufacturers of Dublin. Should I subscribe? What would be handsome? Or shall I order five waistcoats ? " It IS no wonder that the marquis doubted the policy of employing military force against the Irish cause, for the troops could not be depended on in such a conflict. The national sj^mpathies and feelings of the Irish troops were being fast excited by the agitation. Soldiers v/ere continually, at great risk to themselves, shouting for O'Connell, or calling on him to pay him their enthusiastic hom- age. After the Clare election, one of O'Connell's processions encountered a marching detachment. The Serjeant, a young man named Ryan — according to our hero, "as handsome a fellow as ever he saw," — walked away from his men and asked "the Liberator" to shake hands with him. "In acting as I now do," said the Serjeant, "I am infringing mili- tary discipline. Perhaps I may be flogged for it; but 1 don't care. Let them punish me in any way they please — let them send me back to *the ranks ; I have had the satisfaction of shaking the hand of the father of my country." O'Connell says: — " As to my enthusiastic young friend the Serjeant, I afterwards understood that his little escapade was overlooked; and right gla|i I was to find that his devotion to me entailed no punishment on him." At a military station in England, in 1829, the soldiery, it is said, turned out to do O'Connell honour " There are two ways of firing," said a soldier about tWs time, '■ at a man, and vver a man; and if we were called out against O'Connell and our country, I think we should know the difference." It was plainly time for Wellington to concede emancipation. In June, 1828, O'Connell laid the first stone of. the Christian Brother's schools. I can only afford space sunply to notice the incident. Parliament met in February, 1829. The hour of emancipation had at last arrived. Though Wellington a short time previously had declared that "he could not comprehend the possibility of placing Roman Catholics in a Protestant legislature with any kind of safety, as his personal knowledge told him tiuit no king, however Catholic, ^ould govern his Ca- tholic subjects without the aid of the Pope, " he had now determined that emancipation should be conceded. After the Rotunda meeting of the aristocracy he had been closeted with the king more than once, and had v/ith considerable difBculty wrung a reluct'mt consent to the introduction of the relief measure, as a ministerial ques- tion, from that worthless and worn-out profligate, who now in his old age added bigotry to those vices that survived his youth and manhood. The king com- plained of his position to Lord Eldon in these words: — "I am in the state of a 524 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. person with a pistol presented to liis breast. My ministers threatened to resign if the measure were not proceeded with, and I said to them, ' Go on!' Avhen I knew not how to relieve myself from the state in which I was placed." He also said, "-I hardly knew what I was about, when, after several hours' talk, I said, 'Go on!'" Lord Eldou's account of the old sinner's demeanour at this crisis is, indeed, whether intended to be so or not, highl}'^ amusing. " His IVIa- jesty, at these interviews, was sometimes silent, apparently uneasy, occasionally stating his distress — the hard usage he received — his wish to extricate himself — that he did not know what to look to, Avhat to fall back upon — that he was miserable beyond what he could express.'' He also romanced about leaving Eng- land: — "If i do give my consent," quoth this highly comic old gentleman, "I'll go to the baths abroad, and from thence to Hanover. I'll return to England no more." Other ravings were, "Let them get Clarence " (his brother and succcj^sor, William the Fourth) "for a king;" "I'll create no Catholic peers." Lord P'ldon does not seem to have felt anything like implicit belief in the sincerity of Plis Majesty's jeremiads. Once the king read him a letter which he said he had v/ritten. It would seem as if Eldon had consider- able doubts whether what his royal mas- ter read to him were really written at all. In .spite, however, of all this vexation, whether real or simulated, the royal speech, which ojiened the session of Parliament, recommended the suppression of the Catholic Association and the sub- sequent consideration of Catholic dis- abilities with a view to tht?ir removal. The Catliolic Association, having now thoroughly done its work, determined to anticipate the action of the law and dis- solve itself. IShiel, who had been pri- vately talked to on the subject by George Frederick Villiers, afterwards Earl of Clarendon, and viceroy in '48, with whose views . he was easily induced to concur, made an able speech in favour of dissolu- tion. O'Connell and the bishops also sanctioned this course. Before the A-s- sociation dissolved, however, a vote of thanks was passed, in which the mem- bers stated, " That, as the last act of this body, we do declare that we are indebted to Daniel O'Connell beyond all other men for its original creation and sustainment, and that he is entitled, for the achievement of its freedom, to the everlasting grati- tude of Ireland. In spite of this nominal dissolution, had a necessity arisen de- manding such a course, the organisation could easily have resumed its action. Its essential vigour was only dormant. O'Connell has been falsely accused of having promised not to commence any similar agitation, if emancipation were conceded. He only promised tliat the Association should be dissolved, and that, in seeking for the redress of other grievances, all exclusively Catholic agita- tion should be avoided. Such an object as rej^eal, for example, could only be won by a NATIONAL movement representing Irishmen of all races and of every sect and denomination. Even now, in his moment of triumph, with emancipation within his grasp, O'Connell exclaimed : — "To accomplish repeal, I would give up every other measure, and my exertions for such an object would meet with the co- operation of all sects and parties in Ire- land." On the 5th of March, 1829, Peel moved for a committee of the whole House " for consideration of the civil disabilities of His Majesty's Roman Catholic subjects." The motion was carried by a large ma- jority after a warm debate. "And now." says Mr. Mitchel, "arose the most tre- mendous clamour of alarmed Protestant- ism that had been heard in the three kingdoms since the days of James the Second — the last king who had ever dreamed of placing Catholics and Pro- testants on something like an approach to equality. Multitudinous petitions, not only from Irish Protestants, but from Scottish Presbyteries, from English Uni- versities, from corporations of British towns, from private individuals, came pouring into Parliament, praying that the great and noble Protestant State of Eng- land should not be handed over a prey to the Jesuits, the Inquisitors, and the Pro- paganda. Never was such a jumble of various topics, sacred and profane, as in those petitions — vested mterests ; idolatry of the mass ; pi'inciples of the Hanoverian succession : the inquisition ; eternal privi- leges of Protestant tailors or Protestant lightermen ; our holy religion ; French principles; tithes; and the beast of the Apocalypse — all were urged with vehe- ment eloquence upon the enlightened legislators of Great Britain." THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. Some of these alarmed ])etitioners were no doubt sincere in their fanaticism. Dr. Jebb, Protestant bishop of Limerick, had written to Sir Robert Peel on the 11th of February. In this letter he says earnestly: — "Infinitely more difficulties and dangers will attach to concession than to compromising resistance. * * * In defence of all that is dear to British Pro- testants, I am cheerfully prepared, if necessary, as many of my order have formerly done, to lay down life itself." Contrast with this Dr. Doyle's prayer for the success of O'Connell, setting out for the Clare election: — "May the God of truth and justice protect and prosper you ! " Mr. Mitchel naturally exclaims : — ' ' Wliat ver}^ different, what very opposite ideas of truth and justice had these two excel- lent prelates!" The wretched king struggled Iiiard to withhold justice from his Catholic sub- jects. He tried even to form a new ministry and rid himself of the Wellington cabinet, but, finding his sinister efforts all in vain, at a late hour on the evening of March 4th, he wrote to the duke, de- siring him and his colleagues -to with- draw their resignation, and giving them liberty to proceed with the measures of which notice had been given to Parlia- ment. Meanwhile O'Connell, seeing that emancipation was now assuredly about to become law, though he had arrived in London to claim his seat for Clare, de- cided on not urging his claim for the present, lest he should embarrass the Government. And now at last, almost one hundred and thirty-seven years after the treaty of Limerick, the Catholics were eman- cipated. Peel introduced the relief measure into the Commons. After violent debates, characterised by the utmost bitterness of religious fanaticism, the bill passed, on the 3Uth of March, by a majority of thirty-six. Peel, in a ktter to Bishop Jebb, says: — "I can with truth affirm, that in advising and promotmg*the measures of 1829, I was swayed by 7io Tear, except the fear of public calamity." On the 31st, the bill was sent up to the House of Lords. On the 2nd of April, the Dvike of "Wellington moved the second reading. He urged the necessity of pass- ing it in order to "avert civil war." Thus it was conceded not in a spirit of en- lightened justice, not to redress intolerable wrong, but merely as a State necessity. In a word, it was wrested from the Bi-itish Government merely by the force of (cir- cumstances. Hence it is no wonder tliat succeeding English cabinets liave en- deavoured to elude its sjsirit and make it ^s little beneficial to the Iiisli peojile as possible. However, such as it was, after violent debates:, it passed the Lords by a majority of one hundred and four. On the 13th of April the ignoble monarch, after a most theatric display of reluctance, after delays and tears, after breaking and trampling on the first pen handed to liim (poor, petulant, diseased worm of hu- manity, destined never to see the close of the ensuing y«Bar), signed the bill, and Catholic emancipation became the law of the so-called United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland ! The very day the king signed this bill " the sword brandished in the hand of Walker's statue, standing upon a lofty column on a bastion of iJerry walls, fell with a crash and was shivered to pieces." To the bigots all seemed for ever lost. The reign of chaos had come again. If, indeed, people would only have agreed with Sir Harcourt Lees that the time had come to "put down Popery" by Act of Parliament, and send "the arch-agitator" to the Tower, there might have been yet some hope for the empire and mankind. The estimable king, if he had possessed the power, might have adopted the views of the sage baronet. He said, " There are three kings in this country — King Arthur" (WeUincjtoii), "Ivong George and King Dan; but King Dan is the most powerful, iind will oust the other two." Wellington observed, that of the Catho- lic question, "the king never heard or spoke without being disturbed." The fanatics, both of Great Britain and Ireland, in their rage, seemed to believe Welling- ton and Peel mere agents of the Pope. During the excitement kindled by the struggle, the Earl of Wiuchelsea even went so far as to call the duke a traitor to his king and country. He absurdly accused the great captain of having had a design all along to break down the constitution of England and insidiously to introduce "Popery" into every department of the State. The duke challenged this intem- perate nobleman, and they met in Batter- sea Fields. Lord Winchelsea, having by this time become somewhat sensible of the outrageous natm-e of his conduct, after manfully standing a shot from the 526 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. prime minister, fired in the air and apologised The duke bowed and walked off the field. The earl also wrote a credi- table letter of retractation. ■ The whole series of measures that, in '29, terminated the memorable struggle for emancipation consisted of three Acts of Parliament: — " 1st. An act for the sup- pression of the Association, as an illegal nnd dangerous body. 2nd. A fatal act for the suppression of the forty-shdlmg freeholders iii Ireland. In England the forty-shilling qualification was not abol- ished, ord. What was properly called the Emancipation or Relief Act. It was saddled with neither a v^to clause nor with any provision for pensioning the clergy. It abohshed the old oath against transubstantiation, and substituted an- other long-winded one for the exclusive use of Catholics, on taking which any member of that persuasion might, if elected, take his seat in Parliament. Cathohcs, on taking it, might also be members of any lay body corporate, and do corporate acts and vote at corporate elections, but not join in a vote for pre- sentation to a benefice in the gift of any corporation. The Church of England still remained the established religion of Ireland. Any one taking the new oath had to swear allegiance to the Crown — promising to maintain the Hanoverian settlement and succession ; declaring that it is no article of the Catholic faith " thg,t princes excommunicated by the Pope may be deposed or murdered by their subjects ; that neither the Pope nor any other foreign prince has any temporal or civil jurisdiction within the realm; promising to defend the settlement of property as established by law ; solemnly disclaiming, disavowing, and abjuring 'any intention to subvert the present Church Establishment as settled by law: ' and engaging never to exercise any privilege conferred by that act ' to disturb or weaken the Protestant religion or Pro- testant government.' " The act further provides that no Catholic shall be Lord- lieutenant or Lord-chancellor. The latter functionary regulates the guardianship of minors, and decides in what religion they shall be trained in the absence of express directions left by their parents. He also controls and cancels at his pleasure the commissions of magistrates. A Catholic, however, can to-day be chan- cellor. Lord O'Hagan, the present Irish chancellor, is the first Catholic who has attained that dignity for many a long generation. Since Mr. Gladstone s acces- sion to the office of prime minister the Church of England has ceased to be the established religion of Ireland. Pro- visions against monastic institutions, and menacing nuns and friars with severe penalties, also accompanied emancipation; but these provisions, from that day to- this, have remained without force. The act disestablishing the forty-shil- ling freeholders almost neutrahsed the benefits of emancipation. A county qualification five times as great as that of England was now required in Ireland. Peel pretended that the forty-shilling franchise caused the landlords to sub- divide their lands too minutely, that it had given tJiem before, and that it now gave the priests too much control over elections. The abolition of this franchise took away the motive which had hitherto prompted the landlords to give leases to small farmers, and the restraint which kept them from taking advantage of the new and cheap eject- ment la^s in carrying out wholesale evictions of their tenantry. And now commenced that fell system of " exter- mination," as it is styled in Ireland, that has driven so many myriads of the Irish race to seek new homes and a happier lot across the wild waters of the broad Atlantic. It was in vain that Lord Dun- cannon, Lord Palmerston, and Mr. Hus- kisson argued that, " if the forty-shilling freeholders had been corrupt, like those of Penrhyn, their disfranchisement might be defended; but the only offence of the persons against whom the bill was directed had been that they exercised their privilege honestly and independently, according to their conscience." Mr. Mitch el says: — "It is singular that O'Connell said not a word at any meet- ing, nor wrote any letter, protesting against this wholesale abolition of the civil' and political rights of those to whom he owed his election for Clare. He thus consented by his silence to see cut away from under his own feet the very groundwork and material of aU effective political action in Ireland." O'Connell has been much and severely condemned for not battling vigorously against this disfranchisement, which helped to make his best efforts for the advancement of the interests of his THE LIKE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 527 country impotent and futile, and which he often lamented bitterly. The writer of the clever life of O'Counell, published by MuUany of Dublin, makes a state- ment somewhat at variance with the passage just quoted from Mr. Mitchel. He says: — "Against this bUl" (tliat of disfrancMsement) " O'Counell, then in London, protested and agitated in the most vehement manner. With his own hand he drew out a petition against the measure, and proclaimed, at a meeting at the ' Thatched House,' his willingness to forfeit emancipation rather than see the freeholders disfranchised. Unfortunately, O'Connell's efforts were counteracted by Lord Cloncurry," etc. A petition had been presented against the return of O'Counell for Clare. But, after due investigation, the committee havmg reported him duly elected, he considered himself entitled to take his seat, subject only to the new oaths. He was fortified in this view by the opinions of some of the most able lawyers of Eng- land. On the 15th of May, he proceeded to the House to assert his right. Crowds filled the public ways from Charing Cross to St. Stephen's, anxious to see the great Irish agitator. The House of Commons was crowded in every part. The galleries were full of spectators. Eager groups were on all sides discussing the one absorbing toi3ic of the day — the new Act. A great number of peers were present. In a word, the excitement was unprece- dented. O'Connell was introduced in the usual form by Lords Ebrington and Duncannon. At length the Sjoeakcr said — " The member to be sworn will be pleased to come to the table and take the oaths." The interest of the scene was now at its highest point. The abrogated oaths were presented to him by the clerk of the House — one, the oath of supremacy, to the effect that the king is the head of the Church ; the other, "that the sacri- fice of the mass is impious and abomin- able." Peel, baffled and beaten on the grand question, in order to gratify his mean spite against his old antagonist, had cunningly and dexterously inserted a clause in the relief bill admitting only such Catholics as should " after the commence- ment of that Act be returned as members of the House of Commons," to take their seats under the new oaths. Of course, O'Connell refused to take the old oaths. He waved away the pasteboards on which they were fixed. " You will be good enough to inform the Speaker tliat I do not think I am bound to take these oaths." As he persisted in his refusal, the Speaker coui-teously, but firmly, or- dered him to retire. O'Connell looked eagerly rovmd the House, bowed, and still stood opposite the Speaker, but without making any remark. Brougham rose to speak, upon which the Speaker called out " Order! " and repeated to O'Connell that he must withdraw. The latter bowed respectfully, and withdrew in silence. On the 18th of May, Peel moved that O'Connell should be heard at tlie bar of the House. This was agreed to. Ad- vancing to the bar, attended by a brother- Kerryman, Pierce Mahony the attorney, O'Connell asserted his claim in a long and powerful argument. His temperate address produced a favourable effect on the minds of his hearers. He said, at the close, that it was his desire to address that House with befittmg courtesy, but that still he was there to demand his seat as a right. After the close of his speech, the question was argued by the ablest lawyers of England. Though their argu- ments were ingenious and powerful, they have now little interest for the general reader. Suffice it to say, O'Connell and lijs advocates alike pleaded in vam. His claim to sit under the new oaths was rejected. The Duke of Orleans, after- wards the astute King Louis Philippe, and his amiable eldest son, doomed to a shocking and untimely death by accident, were among the spectators of this scene. On the next day dwv hero appeared for the third time at the bar of the Commons. After announcing the decision of the House to him, the Speaker said, "Are you willing to take the oath of su- premacy?" "Allow me to look at it?" replied O'Connell. When he had glanced at it for a few moments, he looked up and said:-;— ''In this oath I see one assertion as to a matter of fact, which I know to be false. I see a second assertion as to a matter of opinion, which I do not believe to be true." Once more O'Connell re- tired. Forthwith a writ was issued to hold a fresh election for the county Clare. That very night O'Connell, who had vainly offered Sir Edward Denny £3,000 if he would nominate him to his pocket-borough, prepared a second ad- dress to the people of Clare. He appealed to Clare, insulted in his person, from the 528 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. unjust decision of the House of Com- mons. To the people of Clare was due the glory of converting Peel and con- 3i community are conceded separately from the rights of the people at largo. The class gratified is, thereby, bought over from thp struggle for the general weal. Thus, emancipation in Ireland, separated from the cause of independence, has afforded a means to the foreign govern- ment of England of bribing and corrupt- ing wealthy or educated Catholics — of seducing them from the national ranks." These denationalising effects would not be compensated for even if the fact of our haying Catholic judges and magistrates secured a fairer administration of justice. But " as long as Ireland's present connec- tion with England lasts, whenever a Catholic peasant or patriot is arraigned before him on political or agrai'ian charges, the Catholic judge will prove as supple an instrument of tyranny as the most bigoted Orange partisan could be. Truly, it can afford slender consolation to the Catliolic victim of landlordism to know that the special commissioner, wlia sentences him so impressively to be hanged, is of the same creed with him- self." One other drawback to emancipation is that, appearing to have removed greater grievances and " ignominy from the people than it really did, it takes away certain healthy elements of wrath agamst British rule from the minds of the people, who, unfortunately, are, in most cases, more influenced by shows than by realities. To benefit Ireland thoroughly, emancipation should never have been separated from the general national cause. It and Ire- land's independence should have sunk or swam together, and they should have been won by the sword!"* • Authorities: MitcheVs Ilistorij; Life of O'Connell published by Mullany; Darcy iMngee's O'Connell; O'ConneWs ^ptw/ies, etc., by John O'Coiinell; Daunt's Recollections and Ireland, and her Agitators; VVyse'a Association; Memoirs by Sir B. Pee!; Twiss's Life of Eldoi; Life of Wellington; Shell's Sketch of the Clare Election; ilbi.c-i,xx\a,j'sEsstti/s; Aiison's Europe ; Dublin Irish People, 1863; Lord Auglesea's Cori'sspondence, eto. CONCLUDING SUMMARY. O'Connell at DaiTynane — Varieties — Parliamentary Career — Last Repeal Agitatioa- nell's last illness and Death — His Charajter. ■The Famine— O'Con- The space at my disposal does not. admit of my giving any detailed account of the subsequent years of O'Connell's life. It was, indeed, at first, my intention to relate at some length the story of his last repeal agitation ; but, on mature re- flection. J arrived at the conclusion that, being limited in space, I should better succeed in presenting the reader with a complete and vivid picture of O'Connell in all his greatness by confining myself almost exclusively to a full and detailed account of tlie grand, triumphant achieve- ment of his life. If I had tried to accom- plish everything by overcrowding my canvas, I should probably have succeeded in doing nothing well. I am the more reconciled to the plan I have adopted Avhen I consider that, up to the victory of emancipation. O'ConnelFs life, like the history of Cortes up to the final capture of the city of jMexico, possesses some- thing like the unity of an epic poem. After emancipation, just as with the clos- ing years of the career of Cortes, the unity of O'Connell's life is at an end. Many of the incidents of these closing years of his life are, no doubt, interesting; but many of them also have something of the sameness of a twice-told tale. The same features are constantly reappearing. Besides, in his career in the British Par- liament, up to the commencement of the final repeal agitation, we recognise com- paratively few of the distinguishing characteristics of the great Irish agitator — he becomes more like the British poli- tician. In the last repeal agitation, in- deed, he is something like the O'Conueil of his palmy days, his aspirations are perhaps nobler than ever, but his policy is less bold. Some fatal mistakes are made. The movement is not only in- complete, but absolutely a failure ; his death takes place before the melancholy national drama of repeal reaches its ig- nominious close. This biography, then, only professes to give a detailed history of the triumphant period of " the Liber- ator's " career. A very slight sketch, however, of his latter days is due to the curiosity of the reader. Let us first, however, glance at him in his moments of relaxation, at Darrynane Abbey, after the glorious fatigues of his last emancipation cam- paign. There by the wild sea-shore, sheltered by mountains, in his quaint old house, built piecemeal at different times, without any regard to uniformity of plan, but quite capable of accommodating the numerous guests his warm-hearted hosjoi- tality gathers around him, hg is as happy and beloved in the bosom of his family and people as any patriarchal chieftian of the old days. iSTothing could equal the love he bore his children and grand- children save their affection for him. Once Peter liussey said to him, " Dan, you should not bring in your children after dinner; it is a heavy tax upon the admiration of the company " " Never mind, Peter," said O'Connell, gaily; "I admire them so much myself, that I don't require any one to help me." His eldest daughter plaj'fully said she was afraid he should spoil her Mary. His reply was, '■ I don't tliink I shall; I know I did my best to spoil you, my love, and I could not succeed." In a speeclx at Belfast, in January, 1841, from which I have quoted already, he talks of his " angel daughters," always '• dutiful and kind" to him, whose " affection soothes every harsher moment of his life. ' He also calls them " atten- dant angels waiting about him." In the same speech he speaks of " the chirping of his darling granddaughters sounding riweetly in his ears," and says that when- ever they appeal to him, right or wrong, he decides in their favour. Nothing can be more engagmg than the picture of O'Connell's home-life at Darrynane. His children and grandchildren were merry and happy as the day was long. All his dependants were enthusiastically attached to him. It was glorious to see him hare-bunting in the mountains even before breakfast, using his leaping pole with a young man's THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. 533 activity, joyously drinkino' in the full cry of the siiaggy Irisli beagles and the en- livening shouts of men and boys, sent back by the myriad echoes of the liills. The huntsmen, in their gay red jackets, were not more alive and merry tlian O'Connell himself. There he was, now eagerly bounding along from rock to rock to keep the chase in view, anon pouring forth a stream of anecdote and jest, or laughing, as he quizzed some London guests, unaccustomed to moun- tain life, for their lack of agility. Then, after the chase, with appetites .sharpened by the sport and the mountain air, the whole company would breakfast on a fragment of rock, in a sheltered nook, a glorious sky overhead, wildly-magnificent scenery aiound. The delight which O'Connell took in the natural beaiities of his native Kerry is well described by hims«rlf in an eloquent letter written in October, 1838, to Walter Savage Landor, the poet, iu which he says that the man " so often called a ferocious demagogue is, in truth, a gentle lover of nature." O'Connell's domestic chaplain said mass every morning at nine o'clock. The ordinary breakfast took place at ten. O'Connell sat at table in his dressing- gown and tasselled cap reading his letters and the papers. At dinner there was generally a numerous com- pany. No sectarian topics mari-ed the harmony of that festive board Men of all shades of religious and political opinion were welcome to Darryuane. Though O'Connell was zealous about his religion, even fond of controversy — as shewn by his encounters with the Kildare Street people and with Xoel and Gordon, already described, and, on another occa- sion, by his stout refutation of certain attacks on the evidences of Christianity, made in his presence by Count Maceroni, a scientific Neapolitan, who had been aide-de-camp to 'King Joachim Murat, and had published something about experiments he had made in the art of flying — in spite of this occasional interest iu controversial subjects. O'Connell was not in the least a bigot. In fact, the ex- tent of his liberality would displease. some of the narrow zealots of the present day. 1^'hen a bigoted Catholic said that it was impossible any Protestant could have the plea of "invincible ignorance," O'Con- nell remarked, '-The fellow has no right to judge his neighbour's conscience; he does nnt know what goes to constitute invincil)]e ignorance." O'Connell was unwilling that his eldest son's wife, a Protestant lady, should confo)'ni to Ca- tholicity unless sh.e really believed in the Catliolic doctrines. He was shocked when his friend, Mr. Daunt, seemed to doubt the efficacy of a deathbed repent- ance. He was very fond of Quakers, and, on the other hand, some of the most eminent members of that persuasion had the highest respect for him, as had also the celebrated Scotch Presbyterian divine. Dr. Chalmers, who, in spite of their very different religious and political creeds, said of him, "He is a noble fellow. v,-ith the gallant and kindly, as well as the wily genius of Ireland." I~n Darrynane he enjoyed himself more than anywhere else. In his garden, pic- turesquely situated amongst rocks, with its fine old hollies, he had a favour- ite walk. There was a circular turret, too, perched high on an ivy-festooned rock in the middle of the shrubbery, which commanded a wide prospect of the ocean and the neighbouring hills, to which he oft retired to meditate in solitude upon liis pohtical schemes. In Darrynane he was comparatively free from various classes of bores tliat were wont to pester him elsewhere. .Vmong these were gossiping visitors, who seemed to think his time their property; i-aptu- rous and patriotic admirers belonging to that sex, which in his gallant moods he used to call '• the fairer and better" one ('■ How I hate to have those women pelting in upon me!" he once exclaimed on the exit of a talkative dame of this class) ; male savaiis, like him who interrupted him on one of his most busy days' with a long and elaborate disquisi- tion upon an ancient Egyptian festival; loquacious chairmen at meetings and banquets; persons who bored him to sit for his portrait or to give his autograph. Wilkie and Du Val found it very hard to get liim to give formal sittings. Of auto- graphs he was liberal enough till age made writing an irksome task. Shortly before his death he asked Mr. Damit if he wished for any. Mr. Daunt said, he did. Upon which O'Connell said, laugh- ing, " Very well, I'll desire my secretary to write as many as you want." To the de.spot of Russia, Nicholas, he sternly refused to give his autograph. He was more complaisant to Louis, the poetical 534 THE LIFE OF DANIEL O CONNELL. king of Bavaria, who himself wrote a letter in Eiic/Iish to Mr. O'Meara, in which •he says. " I request you to say my thanks especially to Mr. D. O'Connell, for his kindness in fulfilling my desire in such an obliging way." To conclude this brief account of our hero's "• bores: " a modest priest, who was in difficult circumstances, on the strength of having been once in- troduced to him on the deck of a steamer, begged O'Connell to allow himself and his two sisters " to make Darrynane their home vmtil more prosperous times." He trusted to " • the Liberator's ' well-known benevolence." O'Connell said he had not the honour of his acquaintance. His revei-ence then reminded him of their introduction. At Darrynane, on days when he did not hunt, he spent two hours after break- fast at newspapers and letters. Then he would stroll for a while on the beach or in the garden, or retire to his turret. Mr. Daunt tells us O'Connell sometimes took a lively interest in pointing out to him with minuteness, among the surround- ing rocks, the course of some hunt, the various turns of the hare and the exploits of the dogs. On returning to the house, he would remain in his study till dinner, at which meal he was generally talkative and jocular, lie would sit for about an hour after dinner, and then return to the studj^ nor leave it till bed-time. In this study Mr. Daunt once found him reading Gerald Griffin's Colkfiians, which was his favourite work of fiction. He had been counsel for Scaulan, the man from whom the Hardress Cregan of the novel was drawn, and had " knocked up" the prin- cipal Avituess against him. " But all would not do ; there were proofs enough besides to convict him." O'Connell'was very fond of novels. Dickens was a great favourite mth him. He followed the for- tunes of little Nell, in The Curiositij Shop, with intense interest. On coming to her death, however, he angrily threw away the book and exclaimed, "I'll never read another line that Boz writes ! The fellow hadn't talent enough to keep up Nell's adventures with interest and bring them to a happy issue, so he kills her to get rid of tlie difficulty." Scott he seems to have thought the best of novelists^, but also a great bigot. He pi-aises Bulwer's Night and Morning, but his acuteness de- tects that author's legiil blunder in sup- posing that Philip Beaufort, the hero, had- " no mode of estabUshing his own legitimacy except by producing the certi- ficate, or the registry, of his parent's marriage. * * * Philip's mother would have been a sufficient witness in her son's behalf. Philip need only have levied distress on the estate for his rents. * * * This comes of men writing of matters they know nothing about. Sir Walter Scott was a lawj^er, and always avoided such errors." He also says, " This is the only one of Bulwer's novels in which a w does not figure as one of the leading characters." O'Connell some- times ingeniously sustained the erroneous opinion that Burke was the writer of ,Tnniu.