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PERSONAL SKETCHES 
 
 OF 
 
 HIS OWN TIMES 
 
 BY 
 
 / 
 
 SIR JONAH BARRINGTON 
 
 JUDGE OF THE HIGH COURT OF ADMIRALTY IN IRELAND, ETC., ETC. 
 
 
 [Fifth Edition.] 
 
 EEDFIELD 
 
 110 AND 112 NASSAU STREET, NEW YORK. 
 
 1854. 
 
 
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INTRODUCTION 
 
 The compilation by me of a medley of this description may 
 appear rather singular. Indeed, I myself think it so, and had 
 got nearly half-way through it before I could reasonably ac- 
 count for the thing ; more especially as it was by no means 
 commenced for mercenary purposes. The fact is, I had long 
 since engaged my mind and time on a work of real public im- 
 portance ; and so far as that work was circulated, my literary 
 ambition was more than gratified by the approbation it re- 
 ceived. But it has so happened, that my publishers, one after 
 another, have been wanting in the qualification of stability; 
 and hence, my " Historic Memoirs of Ireland" have been lying 
 fast asleep, in their own sheets, on the shelves of three succes- 
 sive booksellers or their assignees ; and so ingeniously were 
 they scattered about, that I found it impossible for some years 
 to collect them. This was rather provoking, as there were cir- 
 cumstances connected with the work, which, be its merits what 
 they may, would, in my opinion, have insured it an extensive- 
 circulation. However, I have at length finished the Memoirs in 
 question, which I verily believe are now about to be published 
 in reality, and will probably excite sundry differences of opinion 
 and shades of praise or condemnation (of both the book and 
 author) among his majesty's liege subjects. 
 
 For the purpose of completing that work, I had lately reas- 
 sumed my habit of writing ; and being tired of so serious and 
 
4: INTRODUCTION. 
 
 responsible a concern as " Memoirs of Ireland and the Union," 
 I began to consider what species of employment might lightly 
 wear away the long and tedious winter evenings of a demi- 
 invalid ; and recollecting that I could neither live for ever nor 
 was sure of being the " last man," I conceived the idea of look- 
 ing over and burning a horse-load or two of letters, papers, 
 and fragments of all descriptions, which I had been carrying 
 about in old trunks (not choosing to leave them at anybody's 
 mercy), and to which I had been perpetually adding. 
 
 The execution of this inflammatory project I immediately 
 set about with vast assiduity and corresponding success ; and. 
 doubtless, with very great advantage to the literary reputation 
 of an immense number of my former correspondents as well as 
 my own. After having made considerable progress, I found 
 that some of the fragments amused myself, and I therefore 
 began to consider whether they might not also amuse other 
 people. I was advised to make selections from my store, par- 
 ticularly as I had, for nearly half a century, kept — not a diary 
 — but a sort of rambling chronicle, wherein I made notes of 
 matters which, from time to time, struck my fancy. Some of 
 these memoranda were illegible ; others just sufficient to set 
 my memory working ; some were sad, and some were cheerful ; 
 some very old, others recent. In fine, I began to select : but 
 I soon found that anything like a regular series was out of the 
 question; so I took a heap indiscriminately, picked out the 
 subjects that amused me most, wrote a list of their several 
 headings, which were very numerous ; and, as his majesty 
 pricks for sheriffs, so did I for subjects, and thereby gathered 
 as many as I conceived would make two or three volumes. 
 My next process was to make up court-dresses for my " Sketch- 
 es and Fragments," such as might facilitate their introduction 
 into respectable company,- without observing strict chronologi- 
 cal sequence, to which I am aware light readers have a rooted 
 aversion. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 This laudable occupation served to amuse me and to fill up 
 the blanks of the winter evenings ; and being finished, the res- 
 idue of the papers redeposited, and the trunks locked again, I 
 requested the publisher of my " Historic Memoirs" also to set 
 my " Personal Sketches" afloat. This he undertook to do : 
 and they are now sent out to the public — the world, as it is 
 called ; and the reader (gentle reader is too hackneyed a term 
 to be employed by me) is fully at liberty to draw from them 
 whatever deductions he pleases. All I have to say is, that 
 the several matters contained herein are neither fictions nor 
 essays, but relate to real matters of fact, and personages com- 
 posed of flesh and blood. I have aimed at no display of 
 either fancy or imagination : nor have I set down long dia- 
 logues, which could not possibly be recorded except when 
 heroes and heroines carried short-hand writers in their pockets, 
 which must have been peculiarly inconvenient. In speaking 
 of fanciful matters, by-the-by, I may as well except my own 
 opinions on certain subjects here and there interspersed, which 
 I freely leave to the mercy of any one who is disposed to es- 
 teem them visionary. 
 
 However, be it understood, that I by no means intend this 
 disclaimer as an assault on — but on the contrary as a dis- 
 tinguished compliment to writers and to works of pure imagina- 
 tion, of improbability and impossibility ! inasmuch as such works 
 prove an unlimited range of intellect and talent, on the part 
 of the authors, for inventing matters of fact that never could 
 have occurred, and conversations that never could have taken 
 place ; a talent which, when duly cultivated and practised for 
 the use of friends and private families, seldom fails to bring an 
 author's name into most extensive circulation ; and if perchance 
 he should get himself into any scrape by it, nothing is so likely 
 as the exercise of the same talent of invention to get him out of 
 it again. 
 
 On the other hand, I must own, even against myself, that 
 
6 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the writing of mere commonplace truths requires no talent 
 whatsoever! it is quite a humdrum straight-forward acquire- 
 ment, which any person may attain. Besides, matter of fact 
 is not at all in vogue just now : the disrepute under which truth 
 in general at present labors, in all departments and branches 
 of literature, has put it quite out of fashion even among the 
 savans : so that chemistry and mathematics are almost the 
 only subjects, on the certainty of which, the " nobility, gentry, 
 and the public at large," appear to place any very considerable 
 reliance. 
 
 Having thus, I hope, proved my candor at my own cost, 
 the deduction is self-evident — namely, that the unfortunate 
 authenticity of these Sketches, must debar them from any com- 
 petition with the tales and tattle of unsophisticated invention: 
 when, for instance, scandal is true, it is (as some ladies have 
 assured me) considered by the whole sex as scarcely worth lis- 
 tening to, and actually requiring at least very considerable ex- 
 aggeration to render it at all amusing ! I therefore greatly fear 
 I may not, in this instance, experience so much of their favor 
 as I am always anxious to obtain ; my only consolation is, that 
 when their desire to indulge an amiable appetite for scandal is 
 very ardent, they may find ample materials in every bookseller's 
 shop and liaut-ton society to gratify the passion. 
 
 I feel now necessitated to recur to another point, and I do 
 it at the risk of being accused of egotism. I hope, however, I 
 can advance a good reason for my proceeding ; namely, that on 
 reading over some of the articles whereof this melange is com- 
 posed, I freely admit, that if I were not very intimately ac- 
 quainted with myself, I might be led at least into a puzzle as to 
 the writer's genuine sentiments on many points of theology and 
 politics. Now, I wish, seriously speaking, to avoid, on these 
 subjects, all ambiguity; and therefore, as responsible for the 
 opinions put forth in the following Sketches, I beg to state, that 
 I consider myself strictly orthodox in both politics and theology ; 
 
INTRODUCTION. I 
 
 that is to say, I profess to be a sound protestant, without bigot- 
 ry; aud an hereditary royalist, without ultraism. Liberty I 
 love — democracy I hate — fanaticism I denounce ! These prin- 
 ciples I have ever held and avowed, and they are confirmed by 
 time and observation. I own that I have been what is gener- 
 ally called a loyalist, and I have been also what is generally 
 called a patriot ; but I never was either unqualifiedly ; I always 
 thought, and I think still, that they never should and never 
 need be (upon fair principles) opposed to each other. I can 
 also see no reason why there may not be patriot kings as well 
 as patriot subjects ; a patriot minister, indeed, may be more 
 problematical. In my public life, I have met with but one 
 transaction that even threatened to make my patriotism over- 
 balance my loyalty : I allude to the purchase and sale of the 
 Irish parliament, called a union, which I ever regarded as one 
 of the most flagrant public acts of corruption on the records of 
 history, and certainly the most mischievous to this empire, ex- 
 cept our absurdities at Vienna. I believe very few men sleep 
 the sounder for having supported either the former or the latter 
 measures ; though some, it is true went to sleep a good deal 
 sooner than they expected when they carried those measures 
 into execution. 
 
 I must also observe that, as to the detail of politics, I feel 
 now very considerable apathy. My day for actual duty is 
 past ; and I shall only further allude, as a simple casuist, to 
 the slang terms in which it has become the fashion to dress up 
 the most important subjects of British statistics ; subjects on 
 which certain of these Sketches appear to have a remote bear- 
 ing, and on which my ideas may possibly be misunderstood. 
 
 I wish it therefore to be considered as my humble opinion, 
 that what, in political slang, is termed radical reform is, in real- 
 ity proximate revolution ; universal suffrage appears to me to be 
 extinguishable uproap : annual parliaments, nothing less than 
 periodical bloodshed. My doubts as a casuist, with these impres- 
 
8 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 sions on my mind, must naturally be, how the orderly folks of 
 Great Britain would relish proximate revolution, inextinguisha- 
 ble uproar, and periodical bloodshed? I do not extend the 
 query to the natives of my own country, because, since his 
 majesty was there, nobody has taken much notice of them ; and 
 besides, the people in Ireland having very little to eat and no 
 amusement at all, the aforesaid pastimes might divert them, or 
 at least their hunger, and of course be extremely acceptable to 
 a great body of the population. 
 
 As I also perceive some articles in these Sketches touching 
 upon matters relative to popes, catholic countries, &c, lest I 
 may be misconstrued or misrepresented on that head, I beg to 
 observe, that I meddle not at all in the controversy of catholic 
 emancipation. The doctors employed differ so essentially in 
 opinion, that, as it frequently falls out on many other consulta- 
 tions, they may lose their patient while debating on the prescrip- 
 tion : in truth, I don't see how the doctors can ever agree, as 
 the prescribes must necessarily take the assay, and one half of 
 them verily believe that they should be poisoned thereby ! 
 " Among ye be it, blind harpers !" 
 
 \ apprehend I have now touched on most of the topics which 
 occurred to me as requiring a word of explanation. I repeat 
 that this book is only to be considered as a desultory melange 
 — the whim of a winter's evening — a mere chance selection. I 
 shall therefore make no sort of apology for inaccuracies as to 
 unity of time, for defective connection, or the like. It amused 
 my leisure hours ; and if it fortunately amuses those of other 
 people, I shall receive a great deal of satisfaction. 
 
 Jonah Barrington. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 MY FAMILY CONNECTIONS. 
 
 Family Mansion described — Library — Garden — Anecdotes of my Family — State of 
 Landlord and Tenant in 1760 — The Gout — Ignorance of the Peasantry — Extraordin- 
 ary Anomaly in the Loyalty and Disloyalty of the Irish Country Gentlemen as to 
 James I., Charles I., Charles II., James II., and William — Ancient Toasts — My Great- 
 Grandlalher, Colonel John Bar rington, hanged on his own Gate ; but saved by 
 Edward Doran, Trooper of King James — Irish Customs, Anecdotes, &c page 19 
 
 ELIZABETH FITZGERALD. 
 
 My Great-Aunt Elizabeth — Besieged in her Castle of Moret— My Uncle seized and 
 hanged before the Walls — Attempted Abduction of Elizabeth, whose Forces surprise 
 the Castle of Reuben — Severe Battle 29 
 
 IRISH GENTRY AND THEIR RETAINERS. 
 
 Instances of Attachment formerly of the Lower Orders of Irish to the Gentry— A 
 Field of Cora of my Father's reaped in one Night without his Knowledge — My 
 Grandfather's Servants cut a Man's Ears off" by Misinterpretation — My Grandfather 
 and Grandmother Tried for the Fact — Acquitted — The Colliers of Donane — Their 
 Fidelity at my Election at Ballynakill, 1790 43 
 
 MY EDUCATION. 
 
 My Godfathers — Lord Maryborough — Personal Description and Extraordinary Char- 
 acter of Mr. Michael Lodge — My Early Education — At Home — At School — My 
 Private Tutor, Rev. P. Crawley, described — Defects of the University Course — Lord 
 Donoughmore's Father — Anecdote of the Vice-Provost— A Country Sportsman's 
 
 Education 47 
 
 * 
 
 IRISH DISSIPATION IN 1778. 
 
 The Huntsman's Cottage — Preparations for a Seven-Days' Carousal — A Cock-Fight — 
 Welsh Main — Harmony — A Cow and a Hogshead of Wine consumed by the Party — 
 Comparison between former Dissipation and that of the Present Day— A Dandy at 
 Dinner in Bond Street— Captain Parsons Hoye and His Nephew— Character and 
 Description of Both— The Nephew Disinherited by His Uncle for Dandyism— Curi- 
 ous Anecdote of Dr. Jenkins piercing Admiral Cosby's Fist 54 
 
 MY BROTHER'S HUNTING-LODGE. 
 
 Waking the Piper— Curious Scene at my Brother's Hunting-Lodge— Joe Kelly's and 
 Peter Alley's Heads fastened to the Walls— Operations practised in extricating them . . 61 
 
 CHOICE OF PROFESSION. 
 
 The Army— Irish Volunteers Described— Their Military Ardor— The Author Inocula- 
 ted therewith— He trrows Cooler— The Church— The Faculty— The Law— Objections 
 to each — Colonel Barrington removes his Establishment to the Irish Capital— A 
 Country Gentleman taking up a City Residence 67 
 
 1* 
 
10 CONTENTS. 
 
 MURDER OF CAPTAIN O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Murder of Captain O' Flaherty by Mr. Lanegan, his Son's Tutor, and Mrs. O'Flaherty — 
 The Latter, after betraying her Accomplice, escapes beyond Seas — Trial of Lan- 
 egan — He is hanged at Dublin — Terrific Appearance of his Supposed Ghost to his 
 Pupil, David Lander, and the Author, at the Temple, in London — Lander nearly 
 dies of Fright — Lanegan's Extraordinary Escape — Not even suspected in Ireland — 
 He gets off to Fiance and enters the Monastery of La Trappe — A Church- Yard 
 Anecdote — My own Superstition nearly fatal to Me 71 
 
 ADOPTION OF THE LAW. 
 
 Marriage of my Eldest Brother— The Bride's-Maid, Miss D, W.— Female Attractions 
 not dependent on Personal Beauty — Mutual Attachment — Illustration of the French 
 Phrase " Je ne sais quoi" — Betrothal of the Author, and his Departure for London, 
 to study for the Bar 80 
 
 A DUBLIN BOARDING-HOUSE. 
 
 Sketches of the Company and Inmates — Lord Mountmorris — Lieut. Gam Johnson, R. 
 N.— Sir John and Lady O'Flaherty — Mrs. Wheeler — Lady and Miss Barry — Memoir 
 and Character of Miss Barry, afterward Mrs. Baldwin — Ruinous effects of a Dram- 
 atic Education Exemplified — Lord Mountmorris' Duel with the Honorable Francis 
 Hely Hutchinson at Donnybrook — His Lordship Wounded — Marquis of Ely, his 
 Second 84 
 
 IRISH BEAUTIES. 
 
 Strictures on Change of Manners — Moral Influence of Dress — The Three Beauties — 
 Curious Trial respecting Lady M ; Termination favorable to her Ladyship — In- 
 teresting and Affecting Incidents of that Lady's Life — Sir R M , his Char- 
 acter and Cruelty — Lady M married against her Will — Quits her Husband — 
 
 Returns — Sir R. mistakes her for a Rebel in his Sleep, and nearly strangles her 91 
 
 PATRICIANS AND PLEBEIANS. 
 
 The Three Classes of Gentlemen in Ireland described— Irish Poets— Mr. Thomas 
 Flinter and D. Henesey — The Bard — Peculiarities of the Peasants — Their Ludicrous 
 Misinformation as to Distances accounted for — Civility of a Waiter — Their Equivoca- 
 tion and Misdirection of Travellers to Different Places 100 
 
 IRISH INNS. 
 
 Their General Character — Objections commonly made to Them — Answer thereto — 
 Sir Charles Vernon's Mimicry — Moll Harding — Accident of nearly a Fatal Nature 
 to the Author 106 
 
 FATAL DUEL OF MY BROTHER. 
 
 Duel of my Brother William Barrington with Mr. M'Kenzie — He is killed by his An- 
 tagonist's Second, General Gillespie — The General's Character — Tried for Murder — 
 Judge Bradstreet's Charge — Extraordinary Incidents of the Trial — The Jury ar- 
 ranged — The High-Sheriff (Mr. Lyons) challenged by Mistake — His Hair cut off by 
 Henry French Barrington — Exhibited in the Ballroom — The Curl Club formed — The 
 Sheriff quits the country, and never returns — Gillespie goes to India : killed there — 
 Observations on his Cenotaph in Westminster Abbey 109 
 
 ENTRANCE INTO PARLIAMENT. 
 
 My First Entrance into the Irish House of Commons — Dinner at Sir John Parnel's — 
 Commencement of my Intimacy with Public Men of Celebrity — Maiden Speech — 
 I Attack Grattan and Curran — Suicide of Mr. Thornton — Lord De Blacquiere — His 
 Character 118 
 
 SINGULAR CUSTOMS IN THE IRISH PARLIAMENT. 
 
 Anecdote of Tottenham in his Boots — Interesting Trial of the Earl of Kingston for 
 Murder — Description of the Forms used on that Occasion 126 
 
CONTENTS. 11 
 
 THE SEVEN BARONETS. 
 
 Sir John Stuart Hamilton — Sir Richard Musgrave — Sir Edward Newnham — Sir Vesey 
 Colelough — Sir Frederick Flood — Sir John Blacquiere — Sir Boyle Roche: his curi- 
 ous Bulls — Their Characters and Personal Description — Anecdotes and Bon-mots — 
 Anecdote of the Marquis of Waterford 132 
 
 ENTRANCE INTO OFFICE. 
 
 The Author first placed in Office by Lord Westmoreland — Made King's Counsel by 
 Lord Clare — Jealousy of the Bar — Description of Kilkenny Castle — Trial of the Earl 
 of Ormonde for Outrage at Kilkenny — Acquitted — Author's Conduct — Distinguished 
 and Liberal Present from the Earl of Ormonde to the Author, of a Gold Box, and 
 his Subsequent Letter 141 
 
 DOCTOR ACHMET BORUMBORAD. 
 
 Singular Anecdotes of Dr. Achmet Borumborad — He proposes to erect Baths in Dub- 
 lin, in the Turkish Fashion — Obtains Grants from Parliament for that Purpose — The 
 Baths well executed — The Doctor's Banquet — Ludicrous Anecdote of Nineteen 
 Noblemen and Members of Parliament falling into his Grand Salt-Water Bath— The 
 Accident nearly causes the Ruin of the Doctor and his Establishment — He falls in 
 Love with Miss Hartigan and marries her — Sudden Metamorphosis of the Turk into 
 Mr. Patrick Joyce 147 
 
 ALDERMEN OF SKINNERS' ALLEY. 
 
 The Institution of Orangemen — United Irishmen — Protestant Ascendency — Dr. Duig- 
 enan — Oiigin, Progress, and Customs of the Aldermen of Skinners' Alley described 
 — Their Revels — Orange Toast, never before published — The Aldermen throw Mr. 
 M'Mahon, an Apothecary, out of a Window for Striking the Bust of King William — 
 New Association — Anecdotes of Sir John Bourke and Sir Francis Gould — The Pope's 
 Bull of Absolution to Sir Francis G. — Its Delivery suspended till he had taken away 
 his Landlady's Daughter — His Death 155 
 
 PROCESSION OF THE TRADES. 
 
 Dublin Corporation Anecdotes — Splendid Triennial Procession of the Dublin Corpora- 
 tion, called Fringes (Franchises) described 162 
 
 IRISH REBELLION. 
 
 Rebellion in Ireland, in 1798 — Mr. Waddy's Castle — A Priest cut in two by the Port- 
 cullis, and partly eaten by Waddy — Dinner Party at Lady Colclough's — Names and 
 Characters of the Company, including Mr. Bagenal Harvey, Captain Keogh, &c. — 
 Most of them executed soon after — Tour through, and State of, County Wexford, 
 after the Battles and Storming of the Town — Colonel Walpole killed and his Regi- 
 ment defeated at Gorey — Unaccountable Circumstance of Captain Keogli's Head 
 not decaying 166 
 
 WOLF TONE. 
 
 Counsellor Theobald Wolf Tone — His resemblance to Mr. Croker — He is ordered to 
 be hanged by a Military Court — General Craig attached in Court of Common Pleas 
 — Tone's Attempt at Suicide — Cruel Suggestion respecting him 174 
 
 DUBLIN ELECTION. 
 
 My Contest for Dublin City — Supported by Grattan, Ponsonby, Plunketr, and Curran 
 — Singularity of a Canvass for Dublin — The Election — Curious Incidents — Grattan's 
 Famous Philippic never before Published — Memoirs of Mr. John Giffard, called 
 the " Dog in Office" — Horish the Chimney-Sweeper's Bon-mot 177 
 
 ELECTION FOR COUNTY WEXFORD. 
 
 Mr. Richard Brinsley Sheridan's Contest for County Wexford, omitted by all his 
 Pseudo-Biographers — Duel of Mr. Alcock and Mr. Colelough (Candidates on a Ques- 
 tion respecting Mr. Sheridan's Poll) — Mr. Colelough killed— A Lamentable Incident 
 — Mr, Alcock's Trial — He afterward goes Mad and dies — His Sister, Miss Alcock, 
 f,1so dies a Lunatic in Consequence— Marquis of Ely Tried for an Outrage at Wex- 
 ford, and fined 185 
 
12 CONTENTS. 
 
 WEDDED LIFE. 
 
 Lord Clonmel Chief-Justice of the Irish Court of King's Bench- His Character- 
 Lady Tyrawly's False Charge against him— Consequent Duel between him and Lord 
 Tyrawly— Eclaircissement— Lord Tyrawly and Miss Wewitzer— Lord Clonmel's 
 Hints " How to Rule a Wife"— Subsequent Conversation with his Lordship at Sir 
 John Tydd's 192 
 
 DUKE OF WELLINGTON AND THE MARQUIS OF LONDONDERRY. 
 
 My first Acquaintance with the Duke of Wellington and the late Marquis of London- 
 derry, at a Dinner at my own House— Some Memoirs and Anecdotes of the former 
 as a Public Man— My close connection with Government— Lord Clare's Animosity 
 to me suspended— Extraordinary Conference between Lord Castlereagh, Mr. Cooke, 
 and Me, in August, 1798— Singular Communication— Offers made to me for Succes- 
 sion as Solicitor-General— I decline the Terms proposed— Lord Castlereagh's Letter 
 to me— Character of Mr. Pelham, now Earl of Chichester 197 
 
 LORD NORBURY. 
 
 Quarrel between Lord Norbury and the Author in the House of Commons — Curran's 
 Bon-Mot— Dinner at Lord Redesdale's, who attempts being Agreeable, but is an- 
 noyed by Lord Norbury (then Mr. Toler)— Counsellor O'Farrell — Mr. Plunkett 
 (present Attorney-General for Ireland), and Lord Redesdale — Lord Norbury and 
 Youn" Burke — His Lordship presides at Carlow Assizes in the Character of Haio- 
 thorn 205 
 
 HENRY GRATTAN. 
 
 Mr. Grattan in his Sedan-chair — The Point of Honor— Mr. Egan's cift of Second-sight 
 — The Guillotine and Executioner — Colonel Burr, Vice President of the United 
 States, and Mr. Randolph— Mr. Grattan in Masquerade — Death of that Illustrious 
 Patriot, and Strictures on his Interment in Westminster Abbey — Letter from the 
 Author to his Son, Henry Grattan, Esq 212 
 
 HIGH LIFE IN NEWGATE. 
 
 Lord Aldborough quizzes the Lord Chancellor — Voted a Libeller by the House of 
 Peers — His spirited Conduct — Sentenced to Imprisonment in Newgate by the Court 
 of King's Bench — Memoirs of Mr. Knaresborough — His Extraordinary Trial — Sen- 
 tenced to Death, but Transported — Escapes from Botany Bay, returns to England, 
 and is committed to Newgate, where he seduces Lady Aldborough's Attendant — 
 Prizes in the Lottery— Miss Barton dies in Misery 219 
 
 JOHN PHILPOT CURRAN. 
 
 Sketches of His Character— Personal Description— Lodgings at Carlow — Mr. Curran 
 and Mr. Godwin — Scenes in the Cannon Coffee-house — Liberality of Mine Host — 
 Miss H. in Heroics — Precipitate Retreat — Lord Clancarty — Mr. Curran's Notion of 
 his own Prowess— The Disqualifications of a Wig — Lord and Lady Carleton — Curran 
 in 1812— An Attorney turned Cobbler — Curran's Audience of the present King of 
 France — Strictures on his Biographer* 227 
 
 THE LAW OF LIBEL. 
 
 Observations on the Law of Libel, particularly in Ireland — "Hoy's Mercury" — Messrs. 
 Van Trump and Epaphroditus DOdridge — Former Leniency regarding Cases of 
 Libel contrasted with recent Severity — Lord Clonmel and the Irish Bar — Mr. Magee, 
 of the "Dublin Evening Post" — Festivities on "Fiat Hill" — Theophilus Swift and 
 his two Sons — His Duel with the Duke of Richmond — The " Monster" — Swift libels 
 the Fellows of Dublin University — His Curious Trial — Contrast between the English 
 and Irish Bar — Mr. James Fitzgerald — Swift is found Guilty, and sentenced to New- 
 gate — Dr. Burrows, one of the Fellows, afterward libels Mr. Swift, and is convicted 
 — Both confined in the same Apartment at Newgate 240 
 
 PULPIT, BAR, AND PARLIAMENTARY ELOQUENCE. 
 
 Biographical and Characteristic Sketch of Dean Kirvyan — His Extraordinary Eloquence 
 — The Peculiar Powers of Sheridan, Curran, and Grattan Contrasted — Observations 
 on Pulpit, Bar, and Parliamentary Oratory. .......' , . 255 
 
CONTENTS. 13 
 
 QUEEN CAROLINE. 
 
 Reception of the late Queen Caroline (then Princess of Wales) at the Drawing-Room 
 held after the " Delicate Investigation" — Her Depression and Subsequent Levity 
 — Queen Charlotte and the Princess Compared and Contrasted — Reflection on the 
 Incidents of that Day and Evening — The Thames on a Vauxhall Night 260 
 
 LORD YELVERTON AND THE BAR. 
 
 Characteristic and Personal Sketches of Three Irish Barristers: Mr. William Fletcher 
 (afterward Chief-Justice of the Court of Common Pleas). Mr. James Egan (afterward 
 Judge of Dublin County), and Mr. Bartholomew Hoare, King's Counsel — Lord 
 Yelverton's Dinner-Party — The Author's Parody — Mr. Egan right by Mistake 264 
 
 MR. NORCOT'S ATTEMPT AT SUICIDE. 
 
 The Hollowness of Interested Popularity Illustrated in the Example of Mr. Norcot — 
 The Dilemma of a Gamester — The Last Resource — The " Faithful" Valet — Mr. Nor- 
 cot turns Mohammedan — His Equivocal Destiny 267 
 
 ANECDOTES OF IRISH JUDGES. 
 
 Baron Monckton — Judge Boyd — Judge Henn — Legal Blunder of a Jud^e, and Curran's 
 Bon-Mot thereon — Baron Power — His Suicide — Crosby Morgan's Spirit of Emula- 
 tion — Judge William Johnson — Curious Anecdote between Him and the Author — 
 Judge Kelly — His Character and Bon-Mots — Lord Kil warden — His Character — 
 Murder of Him and his Nephew, the Rev. Mr. Wolfe— Mr. Emmett Executed— Me- 
 moir of that Person — Judge Robert Johnson — Arrested in Ireland, and Tried in Lon- 
 don for a Libel written on Lord Redesdale in Ireland and Published by Cobbett — 
 Doubts of the Legality of his Lordship's Trial — He is Found Guilty 271 
 
 THE FIRE-EATERS. 
 
 Passion for Duelling in Ireland — Ancient Duel before the Judges and Law Authorities, 
 &c, &c, at the Castle of Dublin — List of Judicial and Official Duellists in Author's 
 Time — Family Weapons Described — The Fire-Eater's Society — Their Chiefs — Ele- 
 gant Institution of the Knights of Tara — Description of Them — Their Exhibitions 
 and Meetings — The Rules of Duelling and Points of Honor Established by the Fire- 
 Eaters, called The Thirty-Six Commandments — Singular Duel between the Author 
 and Mr. Richard Daly, a Remarkable Duellist and Fop — Daly Hit — Author's Second 
 the Celebrated Balloon Crosby — His Singular Appearance and Character 286 
 
 DUELLING EXTRAORDINARY. 
 
 Frequency of Election Duels — Ludicrous Affair between Frank Skelton and an Excise- 
 man — Frank Shoots the Exciseman and Runs Away — His Curious Reasons — Sir J. 
 
 Bourke's Quadrille Duel, with Five Hits — Mr. H. D. G y's Remarkable Meeting 
 
 with Counsellor O'Maher — O'Maher Hit — Civil Proposition of G y's Second — 
 
 G y's Gallant Letter to the Author on his Election for Maryborough — Honorable 
 
 Barry Yelverton Challenged by Nine Officers at Once — His Elucidation of the Fire- 
 Eater's Resolutions — Lord Kilkenny's Memorable Duels and Lawsuits — His Lord- 
 ship is Shot by Mr. Ball, an Attorney — The Heir to his Title (the Hon. Somerset 
 Builer) Challenges Counsellor Burrows — The Latter Hit, but his Life Saved by some 
 Gingerbread Nuts — Lord Kilkenny's Duel with Counsellor Byrne — The Counsellor 
 Wounded — Counsellor Guinness Escapes a Rencontre — Sketch of Counsellor 
 M'Nally — His Duel with the Author — His Three Friends ; all afterward Hanged — 
 M'Nally Wounded— Bon-Mot of Mr. Harding— The Affair highly Beneficial to M'Nally 
 — His Character, Marriage, and Death — Ancient Mode of Fighting Duels — The Lists 
 Described — Duel of Colonel Barringtou with Squire Gilbert on Horseback— Both 
 Wounded — Gilbert's Horse Killed — Chivalorous Conclusion 301 
 
 GEORGE HARTPOLE. 
 
 Curious Fatality in the Hat tpole Family — Characteristic Sketch of the Last of the 
 Name — Description of Shrewl Castle — The Chapel and Cemetery — Strictures on 
 Epitaph Writing — Eccentricities of the Earl of Aldborough — His Lordship Proposes 
 his Sister, Lady Sarah Stratford, as Returning Officer for the Borough of Baltinglass 
 —Consequent Disturbances — The North Briton put on his Mettle, but Outmanoeuvred 
 — ''Lending to the Lord"— Successful Conspiracy to Marry Hartpole to the Daugh- 
 ter of a Village-Innkeeper — He is Stabbed by his Wife, and Deserts her in Conse- 
 
14 CONTENTS. 
 
 quences— He forma an Attachment to Miss Maria Otway, whom he marries under 
 the Flea of his previous Connection being Illegal— Unfortunate Nature ot this Union 
 —Separation of the Parties— Hartpole's Voyage to Portugal, his Return, and Death— 
 Sundry other Anecdotes of the Stratford Family - 318 
 
 HAMILTON ROWAN AND THE BAR. 
 
 Sketch of the Character of Mr. Hamilton Rowan— His Quixotic Spirit of Philanthropy 
 —Case of Mary Neil, taken up by Mr. Rowan— Dinner-Club among the Briefless Bar- 
 risters of Dublin— Apparition of Mr. Hamilton Rowan and his Dog— More Frightened 
 than Hurt— An Unanswerable Query— Mr. Rowan's Subsequent Adventures— 1 he 
 Rev. Mr. Jackson— He is brought up to receive Sentence for High-Treason, and 
 expires in Court 3 * 9 
 
 SELF-DECAPITATION. 
 
 An Irish Peasant cutting his own Head off by Mistake— Ills Reputed Ghost— Natural 
 Deaths of the Irish Peasantry— Reflections on the Excise Laws 356 
 
 FATHER O'LEARY. 
 
 Humorous Story of Father O'Leary and a Bear— Mistaken Notions Respecting Ireland 
 on the Continent — Lord Ventry and his Tenant ; an Anecdote characteristic of the 
 Irish Peasant , . . . ^ 359 
 
 DEATH OF LORD ROSSMORE. 
 
 Strictures on Dr. Johnson— His Biographer Boswell — False Definitions and Erroneous 
 Ethics — Superstition — Supernatural Appearances — Theological Argument of the 
 
 Author in Favor of his Peculiar Faith— Original Poetry by Miss T —The Author 
 
 purchases Lady Mayo's Demesne, County Wicklow— Terrific and Cultivated Scenery 
 Contrasted— Description of the Golden Belt of Ireland, and the Beauties of the above- 
 mentioned County — Lord Rossmore — His Character — Supernatural Incident of a 
 most Extraordinary Nature, vouched by Living Witnesses, "and Attendant on the 
 Sudden Death of his Lordship 362 
 
 MEMORANDA CRITICA. 
 
 Remarks on Lady Morgan's Novel of "The Wild Irish Girl," &c— Prince O'Sullivan 
 at Killarney— Miss Edgworth's "Castle Rackrent"— Memoir of Jonathan Clerk — 
 •'Florence Macarthy"— Comparison between Lady Morgan and Thomas Moore as 
 Writers— The Author's Knowledge of Both— " Captain Rock" condemned — The 
 " Irish Melodies," by Moore and Power — The Harmonizing of Them by Sir John 
 Stevenson injurious to the National Music — Anecdote of Moore and Mrs. K y. .. 373 
 
 MEMORANDA POETICA. 
 
 Poets and Poetasters— Major Roche's Extraordinary Poem on the Battle of Waterloo 
 — "Tears of the British Muse'' — French Climax of Love — A Man's Age discovered 
 by his Poetry — Evils of a Motto— Amorous Feelings of Youth — Love Verses of a 
 Boy ; of a Young Man — " Loves of the Angels" — Dinner Verses of an Oxonian — 
 "The Highlander," a Poem — Extracts from the Manuscripts of Miss T n, &c 380 
 
 THEATRICAL RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 The Author's Early Visits to Crow Street Theatre — Interruptions of the University 
 j\/ e/l — College Pranks — Old Mr. Sheridan in " Cato" and in " Alexander the Great" — 
 Curious Scene introduced by Mistake, in the latter Tragedy — Mr. Digges in the 
 Ghost of Hamlet's Father — Chorus of Cocks — The Author's Preference'of Comedy 
 to Tragedy — Remarks on Mr. Kean and the London Moralists — Liston in "Paul Pry" 
 — Old Sparks — The Spanish Debutante — Irish Johnstone — Modern Comedy— The 
 French Stage 396 
 
 MRS. JORDAN. 
 
 Public Misstatement respecting that Lady — The Author's long Acquaintance with Her 
 — Debut of Mrs. Jordan, at the Dublin Theatre, as Miss Francis — Her Incipient Tal- 
 ents at that Period — Favorite Actresses then in Possession of the Stage — Theatrical 
 Jealousy — Mrs. Daly (formerly Miss Barsanti) — Curious Inversion of Characters in 
 the Opera of "The Governess," resorted to by the Manager to raise the Wind — Lieu- 
 tenant Doyne Proposes for Miss Francis — His Suit Rejected from Prudential Con- 
 
CONTENTS. 15 
 
 siderations — Miss Francis departs for England — Mr. Ovvenson, Lady Morgan's 
 Father — Comparison between that Performer and Mr. John (commonly called Irish) 
 Johnstone — Introduction of the Author to His Royal Highness the Duke of Clarence 
 — Reflections on the Scurrilous Personalities of the English Press — Mrs. Jordan in 
 the Green Room and on the Stage — Her Remarks on the Theatrical Art and on her 
 own Style of Acting — Her Last Visit to Dublin, and Curious Circumstances con- 
 nected therewith — Mr. Dwyer the Actor and Mr, Sergeant Gold — Mrs. Jordan in 
 Private Society — Extracts from her Letters — Her Retirement from Bushy, and sub- 
 sequent Embarkation for France 406 
 
 MRS. JORDAN IN FRANCE. 
 
 Decline of Mrs. Jordan's Health — Description of her Cottage and Grounds at Boulognc- 
 sur-Mer — Madame Ducamp and her Servant Agnes — Their Account of Mrs. Jordan's 
 Habits and Manners — Removal of that Lady to Versailles, and subsequently to St. 
 Cloud — Account of her Illness and Last Moments 422 
 
 MEMORY. 
 
 Diversity of the Author's Pursuits — Superficial Acquirements contrasted with Solid — 
 Variety and Change of Study Conducive to Health — Breeding Ideas — How to Avoid 
 Ennui — The Principles of Memory and Fear — The Author's Theory respecting the 
 Former, and his Motive for its Introduction .* 429 
 
 POLITICAL CONDUCT OF THE AUTHOR. 
 
 Letter from the Author to Mr. Burne, relating to the Political Conduct of the Former 
 at the Period of the Union — Extracts from Letters written to the Author by Lord 
 Westmoreland — General Reflections on the Political Condition of Ireland at the 
 Present Time — Hint toward the Revival of a curious old Statute — Clerical Justices 
 — The King in Ireland — The Corporation of Dublin — The "Glorious Memory" — 
 Catholics and Protestants — Mischievous Virulence of Party Feeling 433 
 
 SCENES AT HAVRE DE GRACE. 
 
 Peace of 1814 — The Bourbons and Emigres generally — Motives of the Author in Visit- 
 ing the Continent — His Departure from England with his Family— Arrival at Havre 
 de Grace — The Coteau d' Ingouville — Doctor Sorerie and his Graduated Scale — The 
 Pavilion Poulet — Price of Commodities at Havre — Rate of Exchange — English As- 
 sumption Abroad — The Author's Rural Retirement disturbed by Napoleon's Return 
 
 from Elba — Circumstances attending the Announcement of this Fact at Havre 
 
 Previous Demonstrations of the Inhabitants of the Town, and more particularly of 
 the Military quartered there— The Uniform of the Old Guard — Two Russians Muti- 
 lated by the Mob— Retirement of Louis le Desire, from Paris— Curious Variety of 
 Feeling Manifested among the People at Havre— Policy of the Priests— Good Humor 
 of all Parties— Recruiting for the Emperor and the King — Consternation of the 
 English at Havre — Meeting at the House of the Consul, Mr. Stuart — A Vinous Har- 
 angue — Prompt Embarkation of the British— Accommodations of a Storehouse— The 
 Hussiers and the Spring Showers — Signs of the Times 442 
 
 COMMENCEMENT OF THE HUNDRED DAYS. 
 
 A Family Council— Journey from Havre to Paris— Attention of the French Officers 
 to the Author and his Party — Peaceable Condition of the Invervening Country — 
 Thoughts on Revolutions in General — Ireland in 1798— Arrival in the French Capi- 
 tal—Admirable State of the Police— Henry Thevenot — Misgivings of the Author— 
 His Interview with Count Bertrand— Polite Conduct of the Count— The Emperor's 
 Chapel— Napoleon at Mass— His Deportment— Treasonable Garments— Colonel 
 Gowen— Military Inspection after Mass— Alteration in the Manner of the Emperor- 
 Enthusiasm of the Soldier 455 
 
 THE ENGLISH IN PARIS. 
 
 Doctor and Mrs. Marshall— Colonel Macirone, Aid-de-Camp to Joachim Murat, while 
 King of Naples— General Arthur O'Connor— Lord and Lady Kinnaird— His Lordship 
 under the Surveillance of the Police— Suspected of Espionage, and arrested, but set 
 at Liberty immediately after— Messrs. Hobhouse and Bruce— Dr. Marshall's Correct 
 Information as to Passing Events— Real Characters of the Coterie at his House— 
 Madame la Parente die Ministre Fouche — Misconception of the Minister's Swiss 
 Porter — Henry Thevenot 464 
 
16 CONTENTS. 
 
 INAUGURATION OF THE ExMPEROR. 
 
 The Peers and Deputies summoned for the 8th of June — Abduction of the Regalia by 
 the Royalists— Author obtains a Ticket of Admission to the Gallery of the Chamber 
 of Deputies to Witness the Ceremony — Grenadiers of the Old Guard — Enthusiasm 
 of the Military, and Comparative Quiescence of the other Ranks — Entrance of Na- 
 poleon into the Chamber — Sketch of his Appearance and that of Madame Mere — 
 Administration of the Oath of Allegiance — The Duke of Otranto and Count Thibau- 
 deau — The Imperial Speech and its Ineffective Delivery 471 
 
 PROMULGATION OF THE CONSTITUTION. 
 
 Apathy of the People — Temporary Building; in Front of the Hotel des Invalides — Pont 
 de Jena — Policy of Napoleon regarding Fouche" — Procession to the Champ de Mars 
 — Peculiar Accoutrements of a Regiment of Cavalry — Reflections on some Points in 
 the History of Napoleon — His Mistake in Changing the Republican into a Monarchi- 
 cal Government — Coaches of Ceremony of the French Noblesse and Officers of State 
 — The Emperor's Liberality to various Members of his Court — His Personal Dejec- 
 tion on this Day — Rejoicings Succeeding the Promulgation — Superiority of the 
 French in Matters of Embellishment — Gratuitous Distribution of Provisions and 
 Wine — Politeness of the Lower Orders of French — Display of Fireworks — Mr. Hob- 
 house " Second Reign of Napoleon" 485 
 
 LAST DAYS OF THE IMPERIAL GOVERNMENT. 
 
 Rejoicings on Napoleon's Victory over Blucher and Surprise of Lord Wellington — 
 Bulletin issued at St. Cloud — Budget of News communicated by a French Cockney 
 — Author's Alarm on Account of his Family — Proposes quitting Paris — Information 
 of Henry Thevenot: confirmed at Lafitte's — Napoleon's Return from Waterloo — The 
 Author's Sources of Intelligence — His Visits to the Chamber of Deputies — Garat, 
 Minister of Justice at the Period of Louis' Decapitation — The Rousseau MSS. and 
 their Peculiar Utility to the Author — Fouche's Treachery — Vacillating Plan to inform 
 Napoleon thereof, through Count Thibaudeau — Observations on the Vicissitudes 
 and Political Extinction of Bonaparte 493 
 
 DETENTION AT VILETTE. 
 
 Negotiation between the Provisional Government of Paris and the Allies— Colonel 
 Macirone's Mission — The Author crosses the Barrier of the French Army, misses 
 the Colonel, and is detained on Suspicion — Led before Marshal Davoust, Prince 
 d'Eckmuhl, and Commander in-Chief of the Forces at Vilette — The Marshal's Haughty 
 Demeanor, and the Imprecations of the Soldiery — A Friend in Need ; or, one Good 
 Turn deserves Another — Remarks of a French Officer on the Battle of Waterloo — 
 Account of the Physical and Moral Strength and Disposition of the Army at Vilette 
 — Return of the Parlementaires — Awkward Mistake ofone ot the Sentries — Liberation 
 of the Author — Marshal Davoust's Expressions to the Negotiators 502 
 
 PROJECTED ESCAPE OF NAPOLEON. 
 
 Attack on the Bridge of Charenton by the Russians — Fouche's Arrangements for the 
 Defence of Paris — Bonaparte's Retirement to Malmaison — His Want of Moral Cour- 
 age — Comparison between Napoleon and Frederick the Great — Extraordinary Res- 
 olution of the Ex-Emperor to repair to London — Preparations for his Undertaking 
 the Journey as Secretary to Dr. Marshall — The Scheme abandoned from Dread of 
 Treachery on the Road to the Coast — Termination of the Author's Intercourse with 
 Dr. Marshall and the Cause thereof — Remuneration of Colonel Macirone by the 
 Arch-Traitor, Fouche 508 
 
 BATTLE OF SEVRES AND ISSY. 
 
 Afternoon Ramble on the Boulevard Italien — Interrupted by the Report of Artillery — 
 Sang froid of the Fair Sex — Female Soldiers — The Author repairs to a Point com- 
 manding the Field of Battle — Site of the Projected Palace of the King of Rome — Ra- 
 pidity of the Movements of the French as contrasted with those of the Prussians — 
 Blowing up of the Bridge of St. Cloud— Visit of the Author to the Encampment 
 in the Champ de Mars— The Wounded Soldier 314 
 
CONTENTS. IT 
 
 CAPITULATION OF PARIS. 
 
 Retirement of the Army of Vilette behind the Loire— Occupation of the French Capital 
 by the Allies — Thoughts on the Disposition of the Bourbon Government toward 
 Great Britain — Conduct of the Allies alter their Possession of Paris — Infringements 
 of the Treaty — Removal of the Works of Art from the Louvre — Reflections on the 
 Injurious Results of that Measure to the British Student — Liberal Motive operating 
 on the English Administration of that Period — Little Interludes got up between the 
 French King and the Allies — Louis XVIII.'s Magnanimous Letters — Threatened 
 Destruction of the Pont de Jena by Marshal Blucher — Heroic Resolution of His Most 
 Christian Majesty to perish in the Explosion 522 
 
 THE CATACOMBS OF PERE LA CHAISE. 
 
 The Catacombs of Paris — Ineffective Nature of the Written Description of these as 
 compared with the Reality — Author's Descent into them — His Speedy Return — 
 Contrast presented by the Cemetery of Pere la Chaise — Tomb of Abelard and Hel- 
 oise — An English Capitalist's Notions of Sentiment 526 
 
 PEDIGREE-HUNTING. 
 
 The Author's Efforts to Discover the Source of his Name and Family — The Irish Her- 
 ald-at-Arms — Reference made by him to the English Professor — Heraldic Specula- 
 tion — Ascent of the Author's Pedigree to the Rei^n of William the Conqueror — Con- 
 sultation with the Norman Herald suggested — Author's Visit to Rouen— Anecdotes 
 of French Convents — Madame Cousin and her System — Traits of Toleration— M. Hel- 
 liot, the celebrated ancien avocal of Rouen — Practice of Legal Bigamy in Normandy 
 — A Breakfast Party — Death of M Helliot — Interview with an old Herald, formerly 
 of the Noblesse — His Person and Costume described — Discovery of the Town and 
 Castle of Barentin — Occurrences there — The old Beggar Man — Visit to Jersey, where 
 Drogo de Barentin was killed in, defending the Castle of Mont Orgueil — Return to 
 Barentin, and Singular Incident at Ivetot — Conclusion 527 
 
MEMOIR OF SIR JONAH BARRINGTON. 
 
 Sir Jonah Barrington, who was born at his father's seat, in Queen's 
 County, Ireland, in 1767, was educated in Dublin, graduated in Trinity College 
 there, and was called to the bar in 1788. Two years afterward, he entered the 
 Irish Parliament as member for the borough of Tuam, where, he says, " I di- 
 rected my earliest effort against Grattan and Curran ; and, on the first day of my 
 rising, exhibited a specimen of what I may now call true arrogance." 
 
 The patriots whom he assailed were obnoxious to the Government, and his 
 "arrogance" was rewarded, in 1793, by a sinecure in the Dublin Custom- 
 house, worth £1000 a year. Soon after, he was made King's Counsel, though 
 only five years at the bar. If we take his own word for it, he might have been 
 Solicitor-General in 1799, had he consented to support the proposed Legisla- 
 tive Union of Great Britain and Ireland. He voted against it, and on the 
 strength of the popularity resulting from such opposition, and his avowed hos- 
 tility to Lord Chancellor Clare, who was hated by the liberals, became a candi- 
 date, in 1803, for the representation of Dublin in the Imperial Parliament. 
 After a severe contest, he was defeated, but the first four votes recorded in his 
 favor were those of Grattan, Curran, Ponsonby and Plunket. 
 
 Having thus proved his popularity, he was considered by the Irish Government 
 as a man to be purchased. Accordingly he was made Judge of the High Court 
 of Admiralty iii Ireland, and was knighted. Between 1809 and 1815, Sir 
 Jonah Barrington published five livraisons, in 4to (constituting the first volume), 
 of "The Historic Memoirs of Ireland; comprising secret records of the Na- 
 tional Convention, the Rebellion, and the Union; with delineations of the prin- 
 cipal characters connected with these ti'ansactions." The concluding volume 
 did not appear for many years. It was generally believed — and indeed that 
 belief was strongly shai-ed and openly expressed by Mr. Sheil, in his " Sketches 
 of the Irish Bar" — that Sir Jonah was silent "for a con-si-de-ra-ti-on." The 
 British Government, which then included Castlereagh and others who had used 
 the most flagitious means to carry the Union, shrank from the exposure of their 
 conduct, and it was understood that, to keep him silent, they permitted Sir 
 Jonah Barrington (who had become so much in debt as to jeopard his per- 
 sonal liberty in Ireland) to act as Admiralty Judge by deputy, his own resi- 
 dence, from 1815, being in France. 
 
 In 1827, Sir Jonah published two volumes of his " Personal Sketches of his 
 Own Times," dedicated to the late Charles Kendal Bushe, then Chief Justice 
 of Ireland. A third volume, dedicated to Lord Stowell, Admiralty Judge of 
 England, appeared early in 1832. The popularity of this work has been very 
 great, — owing to the lively manner in which it is written, and the strong light 
 which it casts upon political, legal, and social life in Ireland, during the final 
 forty years of the last century. 
 
 In 1830, Sir Jonah Barrington was charged, in Parliament, with malversa- 
 tion of funds belonging, under the Admiralty laws, to various suitors in his 
 Court. This charge having been proven, Sir Jonah was removed from office. 
 The publication of the delayed volume of his " Historic Memoirs," soon fol- 
 lowed, in 1832, and was well received, as containing full personal details of 
 the means by Avhich Ireland's nationality was surrendered. This work (very 
 expensive as an illustrated quarto) was subsequently reproduced, in a cheaper 
 form, as "The Rise and Fall of the Irish Nation." 
 
 Sir Jonah Barrington died at Versailles, April 8, 1834; aged sixty-seven. 
 
 R. S. M. 
 
PERSONAL SKETCHES. 
 
 MY FAMILY CONNECTIONS. 
 
 Family Mansion described— Library — Garden — Anecdotes of my Family — State of Land- 
 lord and Teimnt in J 7H0 — The Gout — Ignorance of the Peasantry — Extraordinary Anom- 
 aly in the Loyally and Disloyalty of the Irish Country Gentlemen as to James I., Charles 
 I., Charles II., James II., and William — Ancient Toasts — My Great-Grandtather, Colonel 
 John Barrington, hanged on his own Gate ; but saved by Edward Doran, Trooper of 
 King James — Irish Customs, Anecdotes, &c. 
 
 I was born at Knapton, near Abbeyleix, in Queen's comity, 
 at that time the seat of my father, but now of Sir George Pig- 
 ott. I am the third son and fourth child of John Barrington, 
 who had himself neither brother nor sister ; and at the period 
 of my birth, my immediate connections were thus circum- 
 stanced. 
 
 My family, by ancient parents, by marriages, and by inher- 
 itance from their ancestors, possessed very extensive landed 
 estates in Queen's county, and had almost unlimited influence 
 over its population, returning two members to the Irish parlia- 
 ment for Ballynakill, then a close borough. 
 
 Oullenaghmore r the mansion where my ancestors had resided 
 from the reign of James I., was then occupied by my grand- 
 father, Colonel John Barrington. He had adopted me as soon 
 as I was born, brought me to Cullenaghmore, and with him I 
 resided until his death. 
 
 That old mansion (the Great house as it was called, exhib- 
 ited altogether an uncouth mass, warring with every rule of 
 symmetry in architecture. The original castle had been de- 
 
20 MY FAMILY CONNECTIONS. 
 
 molished, and its materials converted into a much worse pur- 
 pose ; the front of the edifice which succeeded it was particu- 
 larly ungraceful ; a Saracen's head (our crest) in colored brick- 
 work being its only ornament, while some of the rooms inside 
 were wainscoted with brown oak, others with red deal, and 
 some not at all. The walls of the large hall were decked (as 
 is customary) with fishing-rods, fire-arms, stags' horns, foxes' 
 brushes, powder-flasks, shot-pouches, nets, and dog-collars ; 
 here and there relieved by the extended skin of a kite or a 
 kingfisher, nailed up in the vanity of their destroyers : that 
 of a monstrous eagle, which impressed itself indelibly on my 
 mind, surmounted the chimney-piece, accompanied by a card 
 announcing the name of its slaughterer — "Alexander Bar- 
 rington;" — who, not being a rich relation, was subsequently 
 entertained in the Great house two years, as a compliment for 
 his present. A large parlor on each side of the hall, the only 
 embellishments of which were some old portraits, and a multi- 
 plicity of hunting, shooting, and racing prints, with red tape 
 nailed round them by way of frames, completed the reception- 
 rooms ; and as I was the only child in the house, and a most 
 inquisitive brat, every different article was explained to me. 
 
 I remained here till I was nine years old ; I had no play- 
 fellows to take off my attention from whatever I observed or 
 was taught ; and so strongly do those early impressions remain 
 engraven on my memory, naturally most retentive, that even 
 at this long distance of time, I fancy I can see the entire place 
 as it stood then, with its old inhabitants moving before me; — 
 their faces I most clearly recollect. 
 
 The library was a gloomy closet, and rather scantily fur- 
 nished with everything but dust and cobwebs : there were 
 neither chairs nor tables ; but I can not avoid recollecting many 
 of the principal books, because I read such of them as I could 
 comprehend, or as were amusing; and looked over all the 
 prints in them a hundred times. . While trying to copy these 
 prints they made an indelible impression upon me ; and hence 
 I feel confident of the utility of embellishments in any book 
 intended for the instruction of children. I possessed many of the 
 books long after my grandfather's death, and have some of them 
 
FAMILY LIBRARY GARDEN. 21 
 
 still. I had an insatiable passion for reading from my earliest 
 days, and it has occupied the greater portion of my later life. 
 Gulliver's Travels, Robinson Crusoe, Fairy ' Tales, and the 
 History of the Bible, all with numerous plates, were my favorite 
 authors and constant amusement : I believed every word of 
 them except the fairies, and was not entirely skeptical as to 
 those good people neither. 
 
 I fancy there was then but little variety in the libraries of 
 most country-gentlemen ; and I mention as a curiosity, the fol- 
 lowing volumes, several of which, as already stated, I retained 
 many years after my grandfather and grandmother died: — 
 The Journals of the House of Commons ; Clarendon's His- 
 tory ; The Spectator and Guardian ; Killing no Murder ; The 
 Patriot King ; Bailey's Dictionary ; some of Swift's Works ; 
 George Falkner's newspapers ; Quintus Curtius in English ; 
 Bishop Burnet ; A Treatise on Tar-water, by some bishop ; 
 Robinson Crusoe ; Hudibras ; History of the Bible, in folio ; 
 Nelson's Fasts and Feasts ; Fairy Tales ; The History of Peter 
 Wilkins ; Glums and Gouries ; somebody's Justice of Peace ; 
 and a multiplicity of farriery, sporting, and gardening books, 
 &c, which I lost piecemeal, when making room for law-books 
 — probably not half so good, but at least much more experi- 
 mental. 
 
 Very few mirrors, in those days, adorned the houses of the 
 country-gentlemen : a couple or three shaving-glasses, for the 
 gentlemen, and a couple of pretty large dressing-glasses, in 
 black frames, for the ladies' use, composed, I believe, nearly the 
 entire stock of reflectors at my grandfather's except tubs of 
 spring-water, which answered for the maid-servants. 
 
 A very large and productive, but not neatly-dressed-up gar- 
 den, adjoined the house. The white-washed stone images ; the 
 broad flights of steps up and down ; the terraces, with the round 
 fish-pond, riveted my attention, and gave an impressive variety 
 to this garden, which I shall ever remember, as well as many 
 curious incidents which I have witnessed therein. 
 
 At the Great house all disputes among the tenants were 
 then settled, quarrels reconciled, old debts arbitrated ; a kind 
 Irish landlord reigned despotic in the ardent affections of the 
 
22 MY FAMILY CONNECTIONS. 
 
 tenantry, their pride and pleasure being to obey and to support 
 him. 
 
 But there existed a happy reciprocity of interest. The land- 
 lord of that period protected the tenant by his influence ; any 
 wanton injury to a tenant being considered as an insult to the 
 landlord ; and if either of the landlord's sons were grown up, 
 no time was lost by him in demanding satisfaction from any 
 gentleman, for mal-treating even his father's blacksmith. 
 
 No gentleman of this degree ever distrained a tenant for 
 rent : indeed the parties appeared to be quite united and knit 
 together. The greatest abhorrence, however, prevailed as to 
 tithe proctors, coupled with no great predilection for the clergy 
 who employed them. These latter certainly were, in principle 
 and practice, the real country tyrants of that day, and first 
 caused the assembling of the White Boys. 
 
 I have heard it often said that at the time I speak of, every 
 estated gentleman in the Queen's county was lio7tore& by the 
 gout. I have since considered thut its extraordinary prevalence 
 was not difficult to be accounted for, by the disproportionate 
 quantity of acid contained in their seductive beverage, called 
 rum-shrub, which was then universally drunk in quantities 
 nearly incredible, generally from supper-time till morning, 
 by all country-gentlemen, as they said, to keep down their 
 claret. 
 
 My grandfather could not refrain, and therefore he suffered 
 well ; he piqued himself on procuring, through the interest of 
 Batty Lodge (a follower of the family who had married a Dub-, 
 lin grocer's widow), the very first importation of oranges and 
 lemons to the Irish capital every season. Horse-loads of these, 
 packed in boxes, were immediately sent to the Great house of 
 Cullenaghmore ; and no sooner did they arrive, than the good 
 news of fresh fruit was communicated to the colonel's neighbor- 
 ing friends, accompanied by the usual invitation. 
 
 Night after night the revel afforded uninterrupted pleasure to 
 the joyous gentry : the festivity being subsequently renewed at 
 some other mansion, till the gout thought proper to put the 
 whole party Jwrs de combat ; having the satisfaction of making 
 cripples for a few months of such as he did not kill. 
 
A TURN-COAT — KENT DAY. 23 
 
 While the convivials bellowed with only toe or finger agonies, 
 it was a mere bagatelle ; but when Mr. Gout marched up the 
 country, and invaded the head or the stomach, it was then call- 
 ed no joke ; and Drogheda usquebaugh, the hottest distilled 
 drinkable liquor ever invented, was applied to for aid, and gen- 
 erally drove the tormentor in a few minutes to his former quar- 
 ters. It was, indeed, counted a specific ; and I allude to it more 
 particularly, as my poor grandfather was finished thereby. 
 
 It was his custom to sit under a very large branching bay- 
 tree in his arm-chair, placed in a fine, sunny aspect at the en- 
 trance to the garden. I particularly remember his cloak, for I 
 kept it twelve years after his death ; it was called a cartouche 
 cloak, from a famous French robber who, it was said, invented it 
 for his gang for the purposes of evasion. It was made of very 
 fine broadcloth, of a bright blue color on one side, and a bright 
 scarlet on the other ; so that on being turned, it might deceive 
 even a vigilant pursuer. 
 
 There my grandfather used to sit of a hot sunny day, receive 
 any rents he could collect, and settle any accounts which his in- 
 diffeience on that head permitted him to think of. 
 
 At one time he suspected a young rogue of having slipped 
 some money off his table when paying rent ; and therefore, 
 when afterward the tenants began to count out their money, he 
 used to throw the focus of his large reading-glass upon their 
 hands : the smart, without any visible cause, astonished the ig- 
 norant creatures ! they shook their hands, and thought it must 
 be the devil who was scorching them. The priest was let into 
 the secret : he seriously told them all it xoas the devil, who had 
 mistaken them for the fellow that had stolen the money from 
 the colonel ; but that if he (the priest) was properly considered, 
 he would say as many masses as would bother fifty devils, were 
 it necessary. The priest got his fee ; and another farthing nev- 
 er was taken from my grandfather. 
 
 He was rather a short man, with a large red nose — strong 
 made ; and wore an immense white wig, such as the portraits 
 give to Dr. Johnson. He died at eighty-six years of age, of 
 shrub-gout and usquebaugh, beloved and respected. I cried 
 heartily for him ; and then became the favorite of my grand- 
 
24: MY FAMILY CONNECTIONS. 
 
 mother, the best woman in the world, who went to reside in 
 Dublin, and prepare me for college. 
 
 Colonel John Barrington, mj great-grandfather, for some 
 time before his death, and after I was born, resided at Bally- 
 roan. My grandfather having married Margaret, the daughter 
 of Sir John Byrne, Bart., had taken to the estates and mansion, 
 'and gave an annuity to my great-grandfather, who died, one 
 hundred and four years old, of a fever, having never shown any 
 of the usual decrepitudes or defects of age — he was the most 
 respectable man by tradition of my family, and for more than 
 seventy years a parliament man. 
 
 Sir John Byrne, Bart., my maternal great-grandfather, lived 
 at his old castle, Timogee, almost adjoining my grandfather 
 Barrington : his domains, close to Stradbally, were nearly the 
 most beautiful in Queen's county. On his decease, his widow, 
 Lady Dorothea Byrne, an Englishwoman, whose name had 
 been Warren, I believe a grand-aunt to the late Lady Bulkley, 
 resided there till her death ; having previously seen her son 
 give one of the first and most deeply-to-be-regretted instances 
 of what is called forming English connections. Sir John Byrne, 
 my grand-uncle, having gone to England, married the heiress 
 of the Leycester family ; the very name of Ireland was then 
 odious to the English gentry ; and previous terms were made 
 with him, that his children should take the cognomen of Ley- 
 cester, and drop that of Byrne ; that he should quit Ireland, sell 
 all his paternal estates there, and become an Englishman. He 
 assented ; and the last Lord Shelburne purchased, for less than 
 half their value, all his fine estates, of which the marquis of 
 Landsdown is now the proprietor. 
 
 After the father's death, the son became, of course, Sir Peter 
 Leycester, the predecessor of the present Sir John Fleming 
 Leycester : thus the family of Byrne, descended from a long 
 line of Irish princes and chieftains, condescended to become lit- 
 tle among the rank of English commoners ; and so ended the 
 connection between the Byrnes and Barringtons. 
 
 My mother was the daughter of Patrick French, of Peters- 
 well, county of Galway, wherein he had large estates ; my 
 grandmother (his wife) was one of the last remaining to the 
 
" UNSHAKEN LOYALTY." 25 
 
 first house of the ancient O'Briens. Her brother, my great- 
 uncle, Donatus, also emigrated to England, and died fifteen or 
 sixteen years since, at his mansion, Blatherwick, in Cheshire, 
 in a species of voluntary obscurity, inconsistent with his birth 
 and large fortune. He left great hereditary estates in both 
 countries to the enjoyment of his mistress, excluding the legiti- 
 mate branches of his family from all claims upon the manors 
 or demesnes of their ancestors. The law enabled him to do 
 what a due sense of justice and pride would have interdicted. 
 
 The anomaly of political principles among the Irish country- 
 gentlemen at that period was very extraordinary. They pro- 
 fessed what they called "unshaken loyalty ;" and yet they were 
 unqualified partisans of Cromwell and William, two decided 
 usurpers, one of them having dethroned his father-in-law, and 
 the other decapitated his king. 
 
 The fifth of November was celebrated in Dublin for the 
 preservation of a Scottish king from gunpowder in London ; 
 then the thirtieth of January was much approved of by a great 
 number of Irish, as the anniversary of making his son, Charles 
 I. shorter by the head ; and then the very same Irish cele- 
 brated the restoration of Charles II. who was twice as bad as 
 his father ; and while they rejoiced in putting a crown upon 
 the head of the son of the king who could not quietly keep his 
 own head on, they never failed to drink bumpers to the mem- 
 ory of Old Noll, who had cut that king's head off. To conclude, 
 in order to commemorate the whole story, and make their 
 children remember it, they dressed up a fat calf's head on every 
 anniversary of King Charles's throat being cut, and with a 
 smoked ham placed by the side of it, all parties partook thereof 
 most happily, washing down the emblem and its accompaniment 
 with as much claret as they could hold. 
 
 Having thus proved their loyalty to James I. and their 
 attachment to his son's murderer, and then their loyalty to one 
 of his grandsons, to another of whom they were disloyal, they 
 next proceeded to celebrate the birthday of William of Or- 
 ange, a Dutchman, who turned their long, his father-in-law, 
 out of the country, and who, in all probability, would have 
 given the Irish another calf's head for their celebration, if his 
 
26 MY FAMILY CONNECTIONS. 
 
 said father-in-law had not got out of the way with the utmost 
 expedition, and gone to live upon charity in France, with the 
 natural enemies of the British nation. 
 
 One part of the Irish people then invented a toast, called, 
 " The glorious, pious, and immortal memory of William, the 
 Dutchman ;" while another raised a counter toast, called, " The 
 memory of the chestnut horse," that broke the neck of the 
 same King William* But in my mind (if I am to judge of 
 past times by the corporation of Dublin) it was only to coin an 
 excuse for getting loyally drunk as often as possible, that they 
 were so enthusiastically fond of making sentiments, as they 
 called them.f 
 
 As to the polities of my family, we had, no doubt, some very 
 substantial reasons for being both Cromwellians and William- 
 ites ; the one confirmed our grants, and the other preserved 
 them for us : my family, indeed, had certainly not only those, 
 but other very especial reasons to be pleased with King Wil- 
 liam ; and though he gave them nothing, they kept what they 
 had, which might have been lost but for his usurpation. 
 
 During the short reign of James II. in Ireland, those who 
 were not for him were considered to be against him, and of 
 course were subject to the severities and confiscations usual in 
 all civil wars. Among the rest, my great-grandfather, Colo- 
 nel John Barrington, being a protestant, and having no pred- 
 ilection for King James, was ousted from his mansion and 
 estates at Cullenaghmore by one O'Fagan, a Jacobite wigmaker 
 and violent partisan, from Ballynakill. He was, notwithstand- 
 ing, rather respectfully treated, and was allowed forty pounds a 
 year so long as he behaved himself. 
 
 However, he onty behaved well for a couple of months ; at 
 the end of which time, with a party of his faithful tenants, he 
 surprised the wig-maker, turned him out of possession in his turn, 
 and repossessed himself of his mansion and estates. 
 
 *King William's neck was not broken, but it was said that he got a fall 
 'from a chestnut-horse, which hurt him inwardly, and hastened his dissolu- 
 tion. 
 
 f Could his majesty, King "William, learn in the other world that he has 
 been the cause of more broken heads and drunken men, since his departure 
 than all his predecessors, he must be the proudest ghost and most conceited 
 skeleton that ever entered the gardens of Elysium. 
 
JUST in time! 27 
 
 The wig-maker, having escaped to Dublin, laid his complaint 
 before the authorities ; and a party of soldiers were ordered to 
 make short work of it, if the colonel did not submit on the first 
 summons. 
 
 The party demanded entrance, but were refused ; and a little 
 firing from the windows of the mansion took place. Not being, 
 however, tenable, it was successfully stormed : the old game- 
 keeper, John Neville, killed, and my great-grandfather taken 
 prisoner, conveyed to the drum-head at Raheenduff, tried as a 
 rebel by a certain Cornet M'Mahon, and in due form ordered to 
 be hanged in an hour. 
 
 At the appointed time, execution was punctually proceeded 
 on ; and so far as tying up the colonel to the cross-bar of his 
 own gate, the sentence was actually put in force. But at the 
 moment the first haul was given to elevate him, Ned Doran, a 
 tenant of the estate, who was a trooper in King James's army, 
 rode up to the gate — himself and horse in a state of complete 
 exhaustion. He saw with horror his landlord strung up, and 
 exclaimed : — 
 
 " Holloa ! Holloa ! blood and ouns, boys ! cut down the colo- 
 nel ! cut down the colonel ! or ye'll be all hanged yeerselves, 
 ye villains of the world, ye ! I am straight from the Boyne 
 Water, through thick and thin : ough, by the hokys ! we're all 
 cut up and kilt to the devil and back agin — Jammy's scampered, 
 bad luck to him, without a 'good bye to yees !' or, 'kiss my 
 r — p !' or the least civility in life !" 
 
 My grandfather's hangmen lost no time in getting off, leav- 
 ing the colonel slung fast by the neck to the gate-posts. But 
 Doran soon cut him down, and fell on his knees to beg pardon 
 of his landlord, the holy Virgin, and King William from the 
 Boyne Water. 
 
 The colonel obtained the trooper pardon, and he was ever 
 after a faithful adherent. He was the grandfather of Lieu- 
 tenant-Colonel Doran, of the Irish brigade, afterward, if I 
 recollect rightly, of the 47th regiment — the officer who cut a 
 German colonel's head clean off in the mess-room at Lisbon, 
 after dinner, with one slice of his sabre. He dined with me 
 repeatedly at Paris about six years since, and was the most 
 
28 MY FAMILY CONNECTIONS. 
 
 disfigured warrior that could possibly be imagiued. When he 
 left Cullenaugh for the continent, in 1783, he was as fine a 
 clever-looking young farmer as could be seen ; but he had been 
 blown up once or twice in storming batteries, which, with a few 
 gashes across his features, and the obvious aid of numerous pipes 
 of wine, or something not weaker, had so spoiled his beauty, 
 that he had become of late absolutely frightful. 
 
 This occurrence of my great-grandfather fixed the political 
 creed of my family. On the first of July, the orange lily was 
 sure to garnish every window in the mansion : the hereditary 
 petereroes scarcely ceased cracking all the evening, to glorify 
 the victory of the Boyne Water, till one of them burst, and 
 killed the gardener's wife, who was tying an orange riband 
 round the mouth of it, which she had stopped, for fear of accidents. 
 
 The tenantry, though to a man papists and at that time nearly 
 in a state of slavery, joined heart and hand in these rejoicings, 
 and forgot the victory of their enemy while commemorating the 
 rescue of their landlord. A hundred times have I heard the 
 story repeated by the " Cotchers," as they sat crouching on their 
 hams, like Indians, around the big turf fire. Their only lament 
 was for the death of old John Neville, the gamekeeper. His 
 name I should well remember ; for it was his grandson's wife, 
 Debby Clarke, who nursed me. 
 
 This class of stories and incidents was well calculated to 
 make indelible impressions on the mind of a child, and has never 
 left mine. The old people of Ireland (like the Asiatics) took 
 the greatest delight in repeating their legendary tales to the 
 children, oy which constant repetition their old stories became 
 in fact hereditary, and I dare say neither gained nor lost a 
 single sentence in the recital for a couple of hundred years. 
 
 The massacres of Queen Elizabeth were quite familier to 
 them ; and by an ancient custom of everybody throwing a stone 
 on the spot where any celebrated murder had been committed, 
 upon a certain day every year, it is wonderful what mounds 
 were raised in numerous places, which no person but such as 
 were familiar with the customs of the poor creatures, would ever 
 be able to account for. 
 
A WARM RECEPTION. 29 
 
 ELIZABETH FITZGERALD. 
 
 My Great-Aunt Elizabeth — Besieged in her Castle of Moret — My Uncle seized andjianged 
 before the Walls — Attempted Abduction of Elizabeth, whose Forces surprise the Castle 
 of Reuben — Severe Battle. 
 
 A great aunt of mine, Elizabeth Fitzgerald, whose husband, 
 Stephen, possessed the castle of Moret, near Bally-Brittis and 
 not very far from Oullenagh, did not fare quite so well as my 
 great-grandfather, before mentioned. 
 
 She and her husband held their castle firmly during the 
 troubles. They had forty good warders; their local enemies 
 had no cannon, and but few guns. The warders, protected by 
 the battlements, pelted their adversaries with large stones, 
 when they ventured to approach the walls ; and in front of 
 each of that description of castles, there was a hole perpendic- 
 ularly over the entrance, wherefrom any person, himself un- 
 seen, could drop down every species of defensive material upon 
 assailants. 
 
 About the year 1690, when Ireland was in a state of great 
 disorder, and no laws were really regarded, numerous factious 
 bodies were formed in every part of the country to claim old 
 rights, and take possession of estates under legal pretences. 
 
 My uncle and aunt or rather my aunt and uncle (for she was 
 said to be far the most effective of the two) at one time suf- 
 fered the enemy (who were of the faction of the O'Cahils, and 
 who claimed my uncle's property, which they said Queen 
 Elizabeth had turned them out of) to approach the gate in the 
 night time. There was neither outworks nor wet fosse ; the 
 assailants, therefore, counting upon victory, brought fire to con- 
 sume the gate, and so gain admittance. My aunt, aware of 
 their designs, drew all her warders to one spot, large heaps 
 of great stones being ready to their hands at the top of the 
 castle. 
 
 When the O'Cahils had got close to the gate, and were di- 
 rectly under the loop-hole, on a sudden, streams of boiling 
 water, heated in the castle coppers, came showering down upon 
 
30 ELIZABETH FITZGERALD. 
 
 the heads of the crowd below : this extinguished their fire, and 
 cruelly scalded many of the besiegers. 
 
 The scene may be conceived which was presented by a 
 multitude of scalded wretches, on a dark night, under the 
 power and within the reach of all offensive missiles. They 
 attempted to fly ; but while one part of the warders hurled 
 volleys of weighty stones beyond them, to deter them from 
 retreating, another party dropped stones more ponderous still 
 on the heads of those who, for protection, crouched close under 
 the castle-walls : the lady of the castle herself, meantime, and 
 all her maids, assisting the chief body of the warders in pelting 
 the Jacobites with every kind of destructive missile, till all 
 seemed pretty still ; and whenever a groan was heard, a volley 
 quickly ended the troubles of the sufferer. 
 
 The old traditionists of the country often told me, that at 
 daybreak there was lying above one hundred of the assailants 
 under the castle-walls — some scalded, some battered to pieces, 
 and many lamed so as to have no power of moving off : but 
 my good aunt kindly ordered them all to be put out of their 
 misery, as fast as ropes and a long gallows, erected for their 
 sakes, could perforin that piece of humanity. 
 
 After the victory, the warders had a feast on the castle-top, 
 whereat each of them recounted his own feats. Squire Fitzger- 
 ald, who was a quiet and easy man, and hated fighting, and who 
 had told* my aunt at the beginning, that they would surely kill 
 him, having seated himself all night peaceably under one of the 
 parapets, was quite delighted when the fray was over. He had 
 walked out into his garden outside the wall to take some tran- 
 quil air, when an ambuscade of the hostile survivors surrounded 
 and carried him off. In vain his warders sallied — the squire 
 was gone past all redemption ! 
 
 It was supposed he had paid his debts to nature — if any he 
 owed — when, next day, a large body of the O'Oahil faction 
 appeared near the castle. Their force was too great to be 
 attacked by the warders, who durst not sally ; and the former 
 assault had been too calamitous to the O'Cahils to warrant 
 them in attempting another. Both were therefore standing at 
 bay, when, to the great joy of the garrison, Squire Fitzgerald 
 
HUSBAND VERSUS CASTLE. 31 
 
 was produced, and one of the assailants with a white cloth on a 
 pike, advanced to parley. 
 
 The lady attended his proposals, which were very laconic. 
 " I'm a truce, lady ! Look here," showing the terrified squire, 
 " we have your husband in hault — yee's have yeer castle, sure 
 enough. Now we'll change, if you please : we'll render the 
 squire and you'll render the keep ; and if yees won't do that 
 same, the squire will be throttled before your two eyes in half 
 an hour." 
 
 " Flag of truce !" said the heroine, with due dignity and 
 without hesitation ; " mark the words of Elizabeth Fitzgerald, 
 of Moret castle : they may serve for your own wife upon some 
 future occasion. Flag of truce ; I wont render my keep, and 
 I'll tell you why — Elizabeth Fitzgerald may get another hus- 
 band, but Elizabeth Fitzgerald may never get another castle : 
 so I'll keep what I have, and if you can't get off faster than 
 your legs can readily carry you, my warders will try which is 
 hardest, your skull or a stone bullet." 
 
 The O'Cahils kept their word, and old Squire Stephen Fitz- 
 gerald, in a short time, was seen dangling and performing va- 
 rious evolutions in the air, to the great amusement of the Jaco- 
 bites, the mortification of tl^ warders, and chagrin (which how- 
 ever was not without mixture of consolation) of my great-aunt, 
 Elizabeth. 
 
 This magnanimous lady, after Squire Stephen had been duly 
 cut down, waked and deposited in a neighboring garden, con- 
 ceived that she might enjoy her castle with tranquillity ; but, 
 to guard against every chance, she replenished her stony maga- 
 zine ; had a wide trench dug before the gate of the castle ; 
 and pit-falls, covered with green sods, having sharp stakes driv- 
 en within, scattered round it on every side — the passage through 
 these being only known to the faithful warders. She contrived, 
 besides, a species of defence that I have not seen mentioned in 
 the Pecata Hibernia, or any of the murderous annals of Ire- 
 land : it consisted of a heavy beam of wood, well loaded with 
 iron at the bottom, and suspended by a pulley and cord at 
 the top of the' castle, and which, on any future assault, she 
 could let down through the projecting hole over the entrance ; 
 
32 ELIZABETH FITZGERALD. 
 
 alternately, with the aid of a few strong warders above, rais- 
 ing and letting it drop smash among the enemy who attempt- 
 ed to gain admittance below, thereby pounding them as if 
 with a pestle and mortar, without the power of resistance on 
 their part. 
 
 The castle vaults were well victualled, and at all events could 
 safely defy any attacks of hunger ; and as the enemy had none 
 of those despotic engines called cannon, my aunt's garrison 
 were in all points in tolerable security. Indeed, fortunately 
 for Elizabeth, there was not a single piece of ordnance in the 
 country, except those few which were mounted in the fort of 
 Dunnally, or travelled with the king's army : and, to speak 
 truth, firearms then would have been of little use, since there 
 was not sufficient gunpowder among the people to hold an 
 hour's hard fighting. 
 
 With these, and some interior defences, Elizabeth imagined 
 herself well-armed against all marauders, and quietly awaited a 
 change of times and a period of general security. 
 
 Close to the castle there was, and I believe still remains, a 
 dribbling stream ofwater, in which there is a large stone with 
 a deep indenture on the top. It was always full of limpid 
 water, and called St. Bridget's well, that holy woman having 
 been accustomed daily to kneel in prayer on one knee till she 
 wore a hole in the top of the granite by the cap of her pious 
 joint. 
 
 To this well, old Jug Ogie, the oldest piece of furniture in 
 Moret castle (she was an hereditary cook), daily went for. the 
 purpose of drawing the most sacred crystal she could, where- 
 with to boil her mistress's dinner ; and also, as the well was 
 naturally consecrated, it saved the priest a quantity of trouble 
 in preparing holy water for the use of the warders. 
 
 On one of these sallies of old Jug, some fellows (who, as it 
 afterward appeared, had with a very deep design lain in am- 
 bush) seized and were carrying her off, when they were perceiv- 
 ed by one of the watchmen from the tower, who instantly gave 
 an alarm, and some warders sallied after them. Jug was res- 
 cued, and the enemy fled through the swamps ; but not before 
 one of them had his head divided into two equal parts by the 
 
A LEAGUE. 33 
 
 hatchet of Keeran Kany, who was always at the head of the 
 warders, and the life and soul of the whole garrison. 
 
 The dead man turned out to be the son of Andrew M'Mahon, 
 a faction man of Reuben ; but nobody could then guess the mo- 
 tive for endeavoring to carry off old Jug. However, that mat- 
 ter soon became developed. 
 
 Elizabeth was accounted to be very rich, the cleverest wo- 
 man of her day, and she had a large demense into the bargain : 
 and finding the sweets of independence, she refused matrimonial 
 offers from many quarters ; but as her castle was, for those 
 days, a durably safe residence, such as the auctioneers of the 
 present time would denominate a genuine, undeniable mansion, 
 the country squires determined she should marry one of them, 
 since marry willingly she would not — but they nearly fell to 
 loggerheads who should run away with her. Almost every one 
 of them had previously put the question to her by flag of truce, 
 as they all stood in too much awe of the lady to do it personal- 
 ly ; and at length, teased by their importunities, she gave no- 
 tice of her intention to hang the next flag of truce who brought 
 any such impudent proposals. 
 
 Upon this information, they finally agreed to decide by lot 
 who should be the hero to surprise and carry off Elizabeth, 
 which was considered a matter of danger on account of the 
 warders, who would receive no other commandant. 
 
 Elizabeth got wind of their design and place of meeting, 
 which was to be in the old castle of Reuben, near Athy. Elev- 
 en or twelve of the squires privately attended at the appointed 
 hour, and it was determined that whoever should be the lucky 
 winner, was to receive the aid and assistance of the others in 
 bearing away the prize, and gaining her hand. To this effect, 
 a league offensive and defensive was entered between them — 
 one part of which went to destroy Elizabeth's warders, root and 
 branch ; and, to forward their object, it was desirable, if possi- 
 ble, to procure some inmate of the castle, who, by fair or foul 
 means, would inform them of the best mode of entry ; this caus- 
 ed the attempt to carry off old Jug Ogie. 
 
 However, they were not long in want of a spy : for Eliza- 
 beth, hearing of their plan from the gassoon of Reuben (a 
 
 2* 
 
34 ELIZABETH FITZGEEALD. 
 
 nephew of Jug's) determined to take advantage of it. " My 
 lady," said Jug Ogie, " pretend to turn me adrift in a dark 
 night, and give out that my gassoon here was found robbing you 
 — they'll soon get wind of it, and I'll be the very person the 
 squires want, and then you'll hear all." 
 
 The matter was agreed on, and old Jug Ogie and the gas- 
 soon were turned out, as thieves, to the great surprise of the 
 warders and the country. But Jug was found and hired as she 
 expected ; and soon comfortably seated in the kitchen at Castle 
 Reuben, with the gassoon, whom she took in as a kitchen-boy. 
 She gave her tongue its full fling, told a hundred stories about 
 her " devil of a mistress," and undertook to inform the squires 
 of the best way to get to her apartment. 
 
 Elizabeth was now sure to learn everything so soon as de- 
 termined on. The faction had arranged all matters for the 
 capture : the night of its execution approached ; the old cook 
 prepared a good supper for the quality, the squires arrived, and 
 the gassoon had to run only three miles to give the lady the 
 intelligence. Twelve cavaliers attended, each accompanied by 
 one of the ablest of his faction, for they were all afraid of each 
 other whenever the wine should rise upward. 
 
 The lots, being formed of straw of different lengths, were held 
 by the host, who was disinterested, and the person of Elizabeth, 
 her fortune, and Moret castle, fell to the lot of Cromarty 
 O'Moore, one of the Cremorgan squires, and according to tradi- 
 tion, as able-bodied, stout a man as any in the whole county. 
 The rest all swore to assist him till death ; and one in the- morn- 
 ing was the time appointed for the surprise of Elizabeth and her 
 castle — while in the meantime they began to enjoy the good 
 supper of old Jug Ogie. 
 
 Castle Reuben had been one of the strongest places in the 
 county, situated in the midst of a swamp, which rendered it 
 nearly inaccessible. It had belonged to a natural son of one 
 of the Geraldines, who had his throat cut by a gamekeeper of 
 his own ; and nobody choosing to interfere with the sportsman, 
 he remained peaceably in possession of the castle, and now 
 accommodated the squires with it during their plot against 
 Elizabeth. 
 
PREPARATIONS, OFFENSIVE AND DEFENSIVE. 35 
 
 That heroic dame, on her part, was not inactive ; she in- 
 formed her warders of the scheme to force a new master on her 
 and them ; and many a round oath she swore (with correspond- 
 ing gesticulations, the description of which could not be over- 
 agreeable to modern readers) that she never would grant her 
 favors to man, but preserve her castle and her chastity to the 
 last extremity. 
 
 The warders took fire at the attempt of the squires. They 
 always detested the defensive system ; and probably to that 
 hatred may be attributed a few of the robberies, burglaries, and 
 burnings, which in those times were little more than occasional 
 pastimes. 
 
 " Arrah ! lady," said Keeran Karry, " how many rogues 'ill 
 there be at Reuben, as you larn, to-night? — arrah !" 
 
 " I hear only four-and-twenty," said Elizabeth, " besides the 
 M'Mahons." 
 
 " Right, a'nuff," said Keeran, " the fish in the Barrow must 
 want food this hard weather ; and I can't see why the rump of 
 a rapparee may not make as nice a tit-bit for them as anything 
 else." 
 
 All then began to speak together, and join most heartily in 
 the meditated attack. 
 
 " Arrah ! run for the priest," says Ned Regan, "may be you'd 
 like a touch of his reference's office first, for fear there might be 
 any sin in it." 
 
 " I thought you'd like him with your brandy, warders," said 
 Elizabeth, with dignity ; " I have him below ; he's praying a 
 little, and will be up directly. The whole plan is ready for you, 
 and Jug Ogie has the signal. Here, Keeran," giving him a 
 green riband, with a daub of old Squire Fitzgerald, who was 
 hanged, dangling to the riband, " if you and the warders do not 
 bring me their captain's ear, you have neither the courage of a 
 weasel, nor — nor" (striking her breast hard with her able hand) 
 " even the revenge of a woman in you." 
 
 "Arrah, be asy, my lady!" said Keeran, "beasy! by my 
 sowl, we'll bring you four-and-twenty pair, if your ladyship have 
 any longing for the ears of such villains." 
 
 "Now, warders," said Elizabeth, who was too cautious to 
 
36 ELIZABETH FITZGERALD. 
 
 leave her castle totally unguarded, as we are going to be just, 
 let us be also generous ; there's only twenty-four of them, be- 
 sides the M' Marions will be there. Now it would be an eter- 
 nal disgrace to Moret, if we went to overpower them by 
 numbers : twenty-four chosen warders, Father Murphy, and 
 the corporal, the gassoon and the piper, are all that shall leave 
 the castle to-night; and if Castle Reuben is let to stand till 
 daybreak to-morrow, I hope, none of you will come back to me 
 again." 
 
 The priest now made his appearance ; he certainly seemed 
 rather as if he had not been idle below during the colloquy on 
 the leads ; and the deep impressions upon the bottle which he 
 held in his hand, gave grounds to suppose that he had been very 
 busy and earnest in his devotions. 
 
 "My flock!" said Father Murphy, rather lispingly. 
 
 "Arrah!" said Keeran Karry, " we're not sheep to-night: 
 never mind your flocks just now, father ! give us a couple of 
 glasses apiece ! — time enough for mutton-making." 
 
 "You are right, my chickens!" bellowed forth Father Mur- 
 phy, throwing his old black surtout over his shoulder, leaving 
 the empty sleeves dangling at full liberty, and putting a knife 
 and fork in his pocket for ulterior operations : " I forgive every 
 mother's babe of you everything you choose to do till sunrise : 
 but if you commit any sin after that time, as big even as the 
 blacks of my nele, I can't take charge of yeer sowls, without a 
 chance of disappointing you." 
 
 All was now in a bustle: — the brandy circulated merrily, 
 and each warder had in his own mind made mince-meat of 
 three or four of the Reuben faction, whose ears they fancied 
 already in their pockets. The priest marked down the " De 
 profundis" in the leaves of his double manual, to have it ready 
 for the burials ; — every man took his skeen in his belt — had 
 a thick club, with a strong -spike at the end of it, slung with a 
 stout leather thong to his wrist ; and under his coat, a sharp 
 broad hatchet, with a black blade and a crooked handle. And 
 thus, in silence, the twenty-five Moret warders set out with 
 their priest, the piper, and the gassoon with a copper-pot 
 
'ARRIVAL AT CASTLE REUBEN. 37 
 
 slung over his shoulders, and a piece of poker in his hand, on 
 their expedition to the castle of Reuben. 
 
 Before twelve o'clock, the warders, the priest, Keeran Karry, 
 and the castle-piper, had arrived in the utmost silence and se- 
 crecy. In that sort of large inhabited castle, the principal 
 entrance was through the farm-yard, which was, indeed, gen- 
 erally the only assailable quarter. In the present instance, 
 the gate was half open, and the house lights appeared to have 
 been collected in the rear, as was judged from their reflection 
 in the water of the Barrow, which ran close under the win- 
 dows. A noise was heard, but not of drunkenness ; it was a 
 sound as if for preparation for battle. Now and then a clash 
 of steel, as if persons were practising at the sword or skeen for 
 the offensive, was going forward in the hall ; and a loud laugh 
 was occasionally heard. The warders foresaw it would not 
 be so easy a business as they had contemplated, and almost 
 regretted that they had not brought a less chivalrous numerical 
 force. 
 
 It was concerted that ten men should creep upon their hands 
 and feet to the front entrance, and await there until, by some 
 accident, it might be sufficiently open for the ferocious rush 
 which was to surprise their opponents. 
 
 But Keeran, always discreet, had some forethought that 
 more than usual caution would be requisite. He had counted, 
 on dangers which the others had never dreamed of, and his 
 prudence, in all probability, saved the lives of many of the 
 warders. He preceded his men, crawling nearly on his breast ; 
 he had suspected that a dog overheard them, and a bark soon 
 confirmed the truth of that suspicion, and announced the pos- 
 sibility of discovery. Keeran, however, was prepared for this 
 circumstance ; he had filled his pockets with pieces of bacon, 
 impregnated with a concentrated preparation of mix vomica, 
 then, and at a much later period, well known to the clergy 
 and spirituals, I can not tell for what purpose, nor shall I here 
 inquire. Its effect on dogs was instantaneous ; and the savory 
 bacon having rendered them quite greedy to devour it, it had 
 now an immediate effect on two great mastiffs and a wolf-dog 
 who roamed about the yard at night. On taking each a portion, 
 
38 ELIZABETH FITZGEEALD. 
 
 they quickly resigned their share of the contest without ftirther 
 noise. 
 
 Keeran advanced crawling to the door ; he found it fast, but 
 having listened, he soon had reason to conjecture that the in- 
 mates were too well-armed and numerous to make the result 
 of the battle at all certain. He crept back to the hedge, and 
 having informed the warders of the situation in which they were 
 placed, they one and all swore they would enter or die. The 
 priest had lain himself down under a hay-stack in the outer 
 hay-yard, and the piper had retired nobody knew where, nor in 
 fact did anybody care much about him, as he was but a very 
 indifferent chanter. 
 
 Keeran now desired the warders to handle their hatchets, and 
 be prepared for an attack so soon as they should see the front 
 door open and hear three strokes on the copper kettle. The 
 gassoon had left that machine on a spot which he had described 
 near the gate, and Keeran requested that, in case of any fire, 
 they should not mind it till the kettle sounded. He then 
 crawled away, and they saw no more of him. 
 
 The moments were precious, and seemed to advance too 
 fast. At one o'clock a body armed possibly better than them- 
 selves, and probably more numerous, would surely issue from 
 the castle on their road to Moret, well prepared for combat. 
 The result in such a case might be very precarious. The war- 
 ders by no means felt pleased with their situation ; and the 
 absence of their leader, priest, and piper, gave no additional 
 ideas of conquest or security. In this state of things near half 
 an hour had elapsed, when of a sudden they perceived, on the 
 side of the hay-yard toward their own position, a small blaze 
 of fire issue from the corn-stalk — in a moment another, and 
 another ! The conflagration was most impetuous ; it appeared 
 to be devouring everything, but as yet was not perceived by 
 the inmates at the rear of the house. At length volumes of 
 flame illuminated by reflection the waters of the river under 
 the back windows. The warders now expecting the sally 
 rubbed their hands well with bees'-wax, and grasped tightly 
 their hatchets, yet moved not : breathless, with a ferocious 
 anxiety, they awaited the event in almost maddening suspense. 
 
A3ST UNLOOKED-FOR ATTACK. 39 
 
 A loud noise now issued from the interior of the house : the fire 
 was perceived by the garrison — still it might he accidental — 
 the front door was thrown open, and near thirty of the inmates 
 poured out, some fully, others not fully armed. They rushed 
 into the hay-yard — some cried out it was "treachery!" while 
 others vociferated "Accident! accident!" All was confusion, 
 and many a stout head afterward paid for its incredulity. 
 
 At that moment the copper kettle was beaten rapidly and 
 with force : a responsive sound issued from the house — the 
 garrison hesitated, but hesitation was quickly banished; for 
 on the first blow of the kettle the warders, in a compact body, 
 with hideous yells, rushed on the astonished garrison, who had 
 no conception who their enemies could be. Every hatchet 
 found its victim ; limbs, features, hands, were chopped off with- 
 out mercy — death or dismemberment followed nearly every 
 blow of that brutal weapon, while the broad sharp skeens soon 
 searched the bodies of the wounded, and almost half the garri- 
 son were annihilated before they were aware of the foe by 
 whom they had been surprised. The survivors, however, soon 
 learned the cause (perhaps merited) of their comrades' slaugh- 
 ter. The war-cry of "A Gerald! a Gerald! a Gerald!" — 
 which now accompanied every crash of the murderous hatchet, 
 or every plunge of the broad-bladed skeen, informed them who 
 they were fighting with ; fifteen or sixteen still remained un- 
 wounded of the garrison — their case was desperate. Keeran 
 Karry now headed his warders. The gassoon rapidly and 
 fiercely struck the copper, in unison with the sound of the fatal 
 weapons, while the old and decrepit Jug Ogie, within the cas- 
 tle, repeated the same sound, thereby leading the garrison to 
 believe that to retreat inside the walls would only be to en- 
 counter a fresh enemy. 
 
 The affair, however, was far from being finished ; the survi- 
 vors rapidly retired, and got in a body to the position first oc- 
 cupied by Keeran's warders. They were desperate, they knew 
 they must die, ..and determined not to go alone to the other 
 regions. The flames still raged with irresistible fury in the 
 hay-yard. It was Keeran who had set fire to the corn and 
 hay, which materials produced an almost supernatural height 
 
40 ELIZABETH FITZGEEALD. 
 
 of blaze and impetuosity of conflagration. The survivors of the 
 garrison were at once fortified, and concealed from view, by a 
 high holly hedge, and awaited their turn to become assailants ; 
 it soon arrived. From the midst of burning ricks in the hay- 
 yard a shrill and piercing cry was heard to issue, of " Ough, 
 murther — murther ! the devil — the devil ! ough Holy Virgin, 
 save me! if there is any marcy, save me!" The voice was 
 at once recognised by the warriors of Moret, as that of their 
 priest, Ned Murphy, who had fallen asleep under a hay-stack, 
 and never awakened till the flames had seized upon his cloak. 
 Bewildered, he knew not how to escape, being met, wherev- 
 er he ran, by crackling masses. He roared and cursed to 
 the full extent of his voice : and gave himself up for lost, 
 though fortunately, as the materials of his habit did not as- 
 sociate with flame, he was not dangerously burned, although 
 he suffered somewhat in his legs. No sooner did they per- 
 ceive his situation, than the warders, each man forgetting him- 
 self, rushed to save their " clergy," on whom they conceived 
 their own salvation entirely to depend. They now imagined 
 that- the fight was ended, and prepared to enjoy themselves 
 by the plunder of Castle Reuben. 
 
 This was the moment for the defeated garrison ; with a loud 
 yell of " A Moore, a Moore ! a Moore !" they fell in their turn 
 upon the entangled warders in the hay-yard, five of whom had 
 been wounded, and one killed in the first fray, while many had 
 subsequently thrown down their hatchets to receive their pastor, 
 and had only their spikes and skeens wherewith to defend them- 
 selves. The battle now became more serious, because more 
 doubtful than at its commencement. Several of the warders 
 were wounded, and four more lay dead at the entrance to the 
 hay-yard ; their spirit was dashed, and their adversaries laid on 
 with the fury of desperation. Keeran Karry had received two 
 sword-thrusts through his shoulder and could fight no more ; 
 but he could do better, he could command. He called to the 
 warders to retreat and take possession of the castle, which 
 was now untenanted ; this step saved them ; they retired hith- 
 er with all possible rapidity, pursued by the former garrison 
 of the place, who however were not able to enter with them, 
 
A FORLORN HOPE VICTORY. 41 
 
 but killed another man before the doors were fast closed. Kee- 
 ran directed the thick planks and flag-stones to be torn up, 
 thereby leaving the hall open to the cellar beneath, as had been 
 done at Moret. The enemy were at bay at the door, and could 
 not advance^, but, on the other hand, many of the warders hav- 
 ing, as we before stated, flung away their hatchets, were ill- 
 armed. The moment was critical : Keeran, however, was 
 never at a loss for some expedient ; he counted his men ; five 
 had been killed in the hay-yard, and one just outside the 
 walls ; several others were wounded, among whom was the 
 piper, who had been asleep. Keeran told the warders that 
 he feared the sun might rise on their destruction, if something 
 were not immediately done. "Are there," said he,, "five 
 among ye, who are willing to swap your lives for the victory V 1 
 Every man cried out for himself — and "I! — I! — I!" — ech- 
 oed through the hall. " Well !" said Keeran, who without de- 
 lay directed five men and the gassoon with the copper kettle, to 
 steal out at the back of the castle, creep through the hedges, 
 and get round directly into the rear of the foe before they at- 
 tacked ; having succeeded in which, they were immediately to 
 advance beating the vessel strongly. " They will suppose," 
 said the warlike Keeran, " that it is a reinforcement, and we 
 shall then return the sound from within. If they believe it to 
 be a reinforcement, they will submit to mercy ; if not, we'll at- 
 tack them front and rear, and as our numbers are pretty equal, 
 very few of us on either side will tell the story to our childer ! 
 but we'll have as good a chance as them villains." 
 
 This scheme was carried into immediate execution, and com- 
 pletely succeeded. The enemy, who were now grouped outside 
 the door, hearing the kettle in the rear, supposed that they 
 should be at once attacked by a sally and from behind. Think- 
 ing that they had now only to choose between death and sub- 
 mission, the mercy which was offered, they accepted ; and peep- 
 o'day being arrived, the vanquished agreed to throw their arms 
 into the well— to swear before the priest that they never would 
 disturb, or aid in disturbing, Lady Elizabeth, or the castle of 
 Moret — that no man on either side, should be called upon by 
 law for his fighting that night ; and finally, that the person 
 
42 ELIZABETH FITZGERALD. 
 
 who had succeeded in drawing the lot for Elizabeth, should 
 deliver up the lock of his hair that grew next his ear to testify 
 his submission : this latter clause, however, was stipulated need- 
 lessly, as Cromarty O'Moore was discovered in the farm-yard, 
 with nearly all his face cut off, and several skeen wounds in his 
 arms and body, Early in the morning, the dead were buried 
 without noise or disturbance," and both parties breakfasted to- 
 gether in perfect cordiality and good humor : those who fell 
 were mostly tenants of the squires. The priest, having had his 
 burnt legs and arm dressed with chewed herbs by Jug Ogie, 
 said a full mass, and gave all parties a double absolution, as the 
 affair was completed by the rising of the sun. The yard was 
 cleared of blood and havoc ; the warders and garrison parted in 
 perfect friendship ; and the former returned to the castle, bring- 
 ing back Jug Ogie to her impatient mistress. Of the warders, 
 thirteen returned safe ; six remained behind badly wounded, 
 and six were dead. Keeran's wounds were severe, but they 
 soon healed ; and Elizabeth afterward resided at Moret to a 
 very late period in the reign of George I. Reuben soon chang- 
 ed its occupant, M'Mahon, who was hanged for„the murder of 
 his master : and that part of the country has since become one 
 of the most civilized of the whole province. 
 
 I have given the foregoing little history in full, inasmuch as 
 it is but little known, is strictly matter of fact, and exhibits a 
 curious picture of the state of Irish society and manners in or 
 about the year 1690. 
 
A GRATEFUL PEASANTRY. 43 
 
 IRISH GENTRYAND THEIR RETAINERS. 
 
 Instances of Attachment formerly of the Lower Orders of Irish to the Gentry — A Field ot 
 Corn of my Father's reaped in one Night without his Knowledge — My Grandfather's 
 Servants cut a Man's Ears oft" by Misinterpretation — My Grandfather and Grandmother 
 tried for the Fact — Acquitted — The Colliers of Dowane — Their Fidelity at my Flection 
 at Ballynakill, 1790. 
 
 The numerous and remarkable instances, which came within 
 my own observation, of mutual attachment between the Irish 
 peasantry and their landlords in former times, would fill vol- 
 umes. A few only will suffice, in addition to what has already 
 been stated, to show the nature of that reciprocal good-will, 
 which on many occasions was singularly useful to both : and in 
 selecting these instances from such as occurred in my own family 
 — rl neither mean to play the vain egotist nor to determine gen- 
 erals by particulars, since good landlords and attached peasantry 
 were then spread over the entire face of Ireland, and bore a 
 great proportion to the whole country. 
 
 I remember that a very extensive field of corn of my father's 
 had once become too ripe, inasmuch as all the reapers in the 
 country were employed in getting in their own scanty crops be- 
 fore they shedded. Some of the servants had heard my father 
 regret that he could not by possibility get in his reapers without 
 taking them from these little crops, and that he would sooner 
 lose his own. 
 
 This field was within full view of our windows. My father 
 had given up the idea of being able to cut his corn in due time. 
 One morning, when he rose, he could not believe his sight : — 
 he looked — rubbed his eyes — called the servants, and asked 
 them if they saw anything odd in the field: — they certainly 
 did — for, on our family retiring to rest the night before, the 
 whole body of the peasantry of the country, after their hard 
 labor during the day, had come upon the great field, and had 
 reaped and stacked it before dawn ! None of them would even 
 tell him who had a hand in it. Similar instances of affection re- 
 peatedly took place ; and no tenant on any of the estates of my 
 family was ever distrained, or even pressed, for rent. Their 
 
4:4 IRISH GENTRY AND THEIR RETAINERS. 
 
 gratitude for tins knew no bounds ; and the only individuals 
 who ever annoyed them were the parsons by their proctors, and 
 the tax-gatherers for hearth-money ; and though hard cash was 
 scant with both landlord and tenant, and no small bank-notes 
 had got into circulation, provisions were plentiful, and but little 
 inconvenience was experienced by the peasantry from want of 
 a circulating medium. There was constant residence and work : 
 no banks and no machinery; — and though the people might 
 not be quite so refined, most undoubtedly they were vastly 
 happier. 
 
 But a much more characteristic proof than the foregoing of the 
 extraordinary devotion of the lower to the higher orders in Ire- 
 land, in former times, occurred in my family and is on record. 
 
 My grandfather, Mr French, of County Galway, was a re- 
 markably small, nice little man, but of an extremely irritable 
 temperament. He was an excellent swordsman ; and as was 
 often the case in that county, proud to excess. 
 
 Some relics of feudal arrogance frequently set the neighbors 
 and their adherents together by the ears ; — my grandfather had 
 conceived a contempt for, and antipathy to, a sturdy half- 
 mounted gentleman, one Mr. Dennis Bodkin, who, having an in- 
 dependent mind, entertained an equal aversion to the arrogance 
 of my grandfather, and took every possible opportunity of ir- 
 ritating and opposing him. 
 
 My grandmother, an O'Brien, was high and proud — steady 
 and sensible ; but disposed to be rather violent at times in her 
 contempts and animosities and entirely agreed with her husband 
 in his detestation of Mr. Dennis Bodkin. 
 
 On some occasion or other, Mr. Dennis had outdone his usual 
 outdoings, and chagrined the squire and his lady most outrage- 
 ously. A large company dined at my grandfather's and my 
 grandmother launched out in her abuse of Dennis, concluding her 
 exordium by an hyperbole of hatred expressed, but not at all 
 meant, in these words : " I wish the fellow's ears were cut off! 
 that might quiet him." 
 
 It passed over as usual : the subject was changed, and all 
 went on comfortably till supper ; at which time, when everybody 
 was in full glee, the old butler Ned Regan (who had drank 
 
CUTTING OFF DENNIS BODKIN's EARS. 45 
 
 enough) came in: — joy was in his eye; and whispering some- 
 thing to his mistress which she did not comprehend, he put a 
 large snuff-box into her hand. Fancying it was some whim of 
 her old domestic, she opened the box and shook out its contents ; 
 — when lo ! a considerable portion of a pair of bloody ears 
 dropped on the table ! — The horror and surprise of the company 
 may be conceived; upon which old Ned exclaimed — "Sure, 
 my lady, you wished that Dennis Bodkin's ears were cut off, so 
 I told old Gahagan (the game-keeper) and he took a few boys 
 with him, and brought back Dennis Bodkin's ears, and there 
 they are ; and I hope you are plazed, my lady !" 
 
 The scene may be imagined — but its results had like to 
 have been of a more serious nature. The sportsman and the 
 boys were ordered to get off as fast as they could ; but my 
 grandfather and grandmother were held to heavy bail, and were 
 tried at the ensuing assizes at Galway. The evidence of the 
 entire company, however, united in proving that my grand- 
 mother never had an idea of any such order, and that it was a 
 mistake on the part of the servants. They were, of course, 
 acquitted. The sportsman never reappeared in the county till 
 after the death of Dennis Bodkin, which took place three years 
 subsequently. 
 
 This anecdote may give the reader an idea of the devotion of 
 servants, in those days, to their masters. The order of things 
 is now reversed ; and the change of times can not be better 
 proved than by the propensity servants now have to rob (and, 
 if convenient, murder) the families from whom they derive their 
 daily bread. Where the remote error lies, I know not ; but 
 certainly the ancient fidelity of domestics seems be totally out 
 of fashion with those gentry at present. 
 
 A more recent instance of the same feeling as that illustrated 
 by the two former anecdotes — namely, the devotion of the country 
 people to old settlers and families — occurred to myself, which, 
 as I am upon the subject, I will now mention. I stood a con- 
 tested election in the year 1790, for the borough af Ballynakill, 
 for which my ancestors had returned two members to parliament 
 during nearly two hundred years. It was usurped by the mar- 
 quis of Drogheda, and I contested it. 
 
46 IRISH GENTRY AND THEIR RETAINERS. 
 
 On the day of the election, my eldest brother and myself 
 being candidates, and the business preparing to begin, a cry 
 was heard that the whole colliery was coming down from Do • 
 nane, about ten miles off. The returning officer, Mr. French, 
 lost no time : six voters were polled against me ; mine were 
 refused generally in mass. The books were repacked, and the 
 poll declared — the election ended, and my opponents just re- 
 tiring from the town — when seven or eight hundred colliers 
 entered it with colors flying and pipers playing. Their faces 
 were all blackened, and a more tremendous assemblage was 
 scarce ever seen. After the usual shoutings, &c, the chief 
 captain came up to me. "Counsellor dear!" said he, "we're 
 all come from Donane to help your honor against the villains 
 that oppose you : we're the boys that can tittivate ! — Barring- 
 ton for ever! hurra!" Then coming close to me, and lowering 
 his tone, he added : " Counsellor, jewel ! which of the villains 
 shall we settle first V 
 
 To quiet him, I shook his black hand, told him nobody should 
 be hurt, and that the gentlemen had all left the town. 
 
 " Why then, counsellor," said he, " we'll be after overtaking 
 them. Barrington for ever ! — Donane, boys !" 
 
 I feared that I had no control over the riotous humor of the 
 colliers, and knew but one mode of keeping them quiet. I 
 desired Billy Howard, the innkeeper, to bring out all the ale 
 he had ; and having procured many barrels in addition, to- 
 gether with all the bread and cheese in the place, I set them 
 at it as hard as might be. I told them I was sure of being 
 elected in Dublin, and " to stay asy" (their own language) ; and 
 in a little time I made them as tractable as lambs. They made 
 a bonfire in the evening, and about ten o'clock I left them as 
 happy and merry a set of colliers as ever existed. Such as 
 were able strolled back in the night, and the others next morn- 
 ing, and not the slightest injury was done to any body or any 
 thing. 
 
 This was a totally unexpected and voluntary proof of the 
 disinterested and ardent attachment of the Irish country peo- 
 ple to all whom they thought would protect or procure them 
 justice. 
 
MR. MICHAEL LODGE. 4:7 
 
 MY EDUCATION. 
 
 My Godfathers — Lord Maryborough — Personal Description and Extraordinary Character 
 of Mr. Michael Lodge — My Early Education — At Home — At School — My Private Tutor, 
 Rev. P. Crawley, described — Defects of the University Course — Lord Donoughmore's 
 Father — Anecdote of the Vice-Provost— A Country Sportman's Education. 
 
 My godfathers were Mr. Pool, of Ballyfin, and Captain Pig- 
 ott, of "Brocologh park ; and I must have been a very pleasant 
 infant, for Mr. Pool, having no children, desired to take me 
 home with him, in which case I should probably have cut out 
 of feather a very good person and a very kind friend — the 
 present Lord Maryborough, whom Mr. Pool afterward adopted 
 while a midshipman in the navy, and bequeathed him a noble 
 demesne and a splendid estate near my father's. My family 
 have always supported Lord Maryborough for Queen's county, 
 and his lordship's tenants supported me in my hard-contested 
 election for Maryborough in 1800. 
 
 No public functionary could act more laudably than Mr. Pool 
 did while secretary in Ireland ; and it must be a high gratifica- 
 tion to him to reflect that, in the year 1800, he did not abet the 
 degradation of his country. 
 
 Captain Pigott expressed the same desire to patronize me 
 as Mr. Pool — received a similar refusal, and left his property, 
 I believe, to a parcel of hospitals : while I was submitted to 
 the guardianship of' Colonel Jonah Barrington, and the instruc- 
 tion of Mr. Michael Lodge, a person of very considerable con- 
 sequence in my early memoirs, and to whose ideas and eccen- 
 tricities I really believe I arn indebted for a great proportion of 
 my own, and certainly not the worst of them. 
 
 Mr. George Lodge had married a love-daughter of old Stephen 
 Fitzgerald, Esq., of Bally Thomas, who by affinity was a rela- 
 tive of the house of Cullenaghmore, and from this union sprang 
 Mr. Michael Lodge. 
 
 I shall never forget his figure ! He was a tall man, with 
 thin legs and great hands, and was generally biting one of his 
 nails while employed in teaching me. The top of his head 
 was half bald ; his hair was clubbed with a rose riband ; a 
 
48 MY EDUCATION. 
 
 tight stock, with a large silver buckle to it behind, appeared to 
 be almost choking him ; his chin and jaws were very long — 
 and he used to hang his under-jaw, shut one eye, and look up 
 to the ceiling, when he was thinking or trying to recollect any- 
 thing. 
 
 Mr. Michael Lodge had been what is called a matross in the 
 artillery service. My grandfather had got him made a gauger ; 
 but he was turned adrift for letting a poor man do something 
 wrong about distilling. He then became a land-surveyor and 
 architect for the farmers : he could farry, cure cows of the mur- 
 rain, had numerous secrets about cattle and physic, and was 
 accounted the best bleeder and bonesetter in that county — all 
 of which healing accomplishments he exercised gratis. He 
 was also a famous brewer and accountant — in fine, was every- 
 thing at Cullenagh — steward, agent, caterer, farmer, sports- 
 man, secretary, clerk to the colonel as a magistrate, and also 
 clerk to Mr. Barret as the parson : but he would not sing a 
 stave in church, though he'd chant indefatigably in the hall. 
 He had the greatest contempt for women, and used to beat the 
 maid-servants; while the men durst not vex him, as he was 
 quite despotic ! He had a turning-lathe, a number of grinding- 
 stones, and a carpenter's bench, hi his room. He used to tin the 
 saucepans, which act he called chemistry ; and I have seen him, 
 like a tailor, putting a new cape to his riding-coat ! He made 
 all sorts of nets, and knit stockings ; but, above all, he piqued 
 himself on the variety and depth of his learning. 
 
 Under the tuition of this Mr. Michael Lodge, who was sur- 
 named " The wise man of Oullenaghmore," I was placed at four 
 years of age, to learn as much of the foregoing as he could teach 
 me in the next five years : at the expiration of which period he 
 had no doubt of my knowing as much as himself, and then (he 
 said) I should go to school "to teach the master" 
 
 This idea of teaching the master was the greatest possible in- 
 citement to me ; and as there was no other child in the house, 
 I never was idle, but was as inquisitive and troublesome as can 
 be imagined. Everything was explained to me ; and I not 
 only got on surprisingly, but my memory was found to be so 
 strong, that Mr. Michael Lodge told my grandfather half learn- 
 
ELEMENTARY COURSE. 49 
 
 ing would answer me as well as loliole learning would another 
 child. In truth, before my sixth year, I was making a very 
 great hole in Mr. Lodge's stock of information (fortification 
 and gunnery excepted), and I verily believe he only began to 
 learn many things himself when he commenced teaching them 
 to me. 
 
 He took me a regular course by Horn-book, Primer, Spel- 
 ling-book, Reading-made-easy, iEsop's Fables, &c. ; but I soon 
 aspired to such of the old library-books as had pictures in 
 them ; and particularly, a very large history of the Bible, with 
 cuts, was my constant study. Hence I know how every saint 
 was murdered ; and Mr. Lodge not only told me that each mar- 
 tyr had a painter to take his likeness before death, but also 
 fully explained to me how they had all sat for their pictures, 
 and assured me that most of them had been murdered by the 
 papists. I recollect at this day the faces of every one of them 
 at their time of martyrdom ; so strongly do youthful impressions 
 sink into the mind, when derived from objects which at the time 
 were viewed with interest.* 
 
 Be this as it may, however, my wise man, Mr. Michael 
 Lodge, used his heart, head, and hands, as zealously as he 
 could, to teach me most things that he did know, and many 
 things he did not know ; but, with a skill which none of our 
 schoolmasters practise, he made me think he was only amu- 
 sing instead of giving me a task. The old man tried to 
 make me inquisitive, and inclined to ask about the thing 
 which he wanted to explain to me ; and consequently, at 
 eight years old, I could read prose and poetry, write text — 
 draw a house, a horse, and a gamecock — tin a copper sauce- 
 pan, and turn my own tops. I could do the manual exercise 
 with my grandfather's crutch ; and had learned, besides, how 
 to make bullets, pens, and blackball ; to dance a jig, sing a 
 
 * Formerly the chimneys were all covered with tiles, having scripture 
 pieces, examples of natural history, &c, daubed on them ; and there being 
 a great variety, the father or mother (sitting of a winter's evening round 
 the hearth with the young ones) explained the meaning of the tiles out of 
 the Bible, &c. ; so that the impression was made without being called a les- 
 son, and the child acquired knowledge without thinking that it was being 
 taught. So far as it went, this was one of the best modes of instruction. 
 
 3 
 
50 MY EDUCATION. 
 
 cronane, and play the jew's-harp. Michael also showed me, 
 out of scripture, how the world stood stock still while the sun 
 was galloping round it ; so that it was no easy matter at col- 
 lege to satisfy me as to the Copernican system. In fact, the 
 old matross gave me such a various and whimsical assemblage 
 of subjects to think about, that my young brain imbibed as 
 many odd, chivalrous, and puzzling theories, as would drive 
 some children out of their senses ; and, truly, I found it no 
 easy matter to get rid of several of them when it became abso- 
 lutely necessary, while some I shall certainly retain till my 
 death's day. 
 
 This course of education I most sedulously followed, until it 
 pleased God to suspend my learning by the death of my grand- 
 father, on whom I doated. He had taught me the broadsword 
 exercise with his cane, how to snap a pistol, and shoot with 
 the bow and arrow ; and had bespoken a little quarter-staff to 
 perfect me in that favorite exercise of his youth, by which he 
 had been enabled to knock a gentleman's brains out for a wa- 
 ger, on the ridge of Maryborough, in company with the grand- 
 father of the present Judge Arthur Moore, of the common pleas 
 of Ireland. It is a whimsical gratification to me to think that 
 I do not at this moment forget much of the said instruction 
 which I received either from Michael Lodge the matross, or 
 from Colonel Jonah Barrington, though after a lapse of nearly 
 sixty years ! 
 
 A new scene was now to be opened to me. I w^s earned to 
 Dublin, and put to the famous schoolmaster of that day, Dr. 
 Ball, of St* Michael-a-Powel's, Ship street ; and here my puz- 
 zling commenced in good earnest. I was required to learn the 
 English grammar in the Latin tongue, and to translate lan- 
 guages without understanding any of them. I was taught 
 prosody without verse, and rhetoric without composition ; and 
 before I had ever heard any oration except a sermon, I was 
 flogged for not minding my emphasis in recitation. To com- 
 plete my satisfaction — for fear I should be' idle during the 
 course of the week, castigation was regularly administered every 
 Monday morning, to give me, by anticipation, a sample of what 
 the repetition-day might produce. 
 
MY TUTOR ENTER THE UNIVERSITY. 51 
 
 However, notwithstanding all this, I worked my way, got two 
 premiums, and at length was reported fit to be placed under the 
 hands of a private tutor, by whom I was to be finished for the 
 university. 
 
 That tutor was well-known many years in Digges street, 
 Dublin, and cut a still more extraordinary figure than the 
 matross. He was the Rev. Patrick Crawley, rector of Kill- 
 gobbin, whose son, my schoolfellow, was hanged a few years 
 ago for murdering two old women with a shoemaker's hammer. 
 My tutor's person was, in my imagination, of the same genus as 
 that of Caliban. His feet covered a considerable space of any 
 room wherein he stood, and his thumbs were so large that he 
 could scarcely hold a book without hiding more than half the 
 page of it : though bulky himself, his clothes doubled the di- 
 mensions proper to suit his body ; and an immense frouzy wig, 
 powdered once a week, covered a head, which, for size and form, 
 might vie with a quarter-cask. 
 
 Vaccination not having as yet plundered horned-cattle of 
 their disorders, its predecessor had left evident proofs of 
 attachment to the rector's countenance. That old Christian 
 malady, the small-pox, which had resided so many centuries 
 among our ancestors, and which modern innovations have 
 endeavored to undermine, had placed his features in a perfect 
 state of compactness and security — each being screwed quite 
 tight to its neighbor, and every seam appearing deep and 
 gristly, so that the whole visage appeared to defy alike the 
 edge of the sharpest scalpel and the skill of the most expert 
 anatomist. 
 
 Yet this was as good-hearted a parson as ever lived ; affec- 
 tionate, friendly, and, so far as Greek, Latin, Prosody, and 
 Euclid, went, excelled by few : and under him I acquired, in 
 one year, more classical knowledge, than I had done during the 
 former six, whence I was enabled, out of thirty-six pupils, early 
 to obtain a place in the university of Dublin. 
 
 The college course, at that time, though a very learned one, 
 was ill-arranged, pedantic, and totally out of sequence. Stu- 
 dents were examined in " Locke on the Human Understand- 
 ing," before their own had arrived at the first stage of maturity ; 
 
52 MY EDUCATION. 
 
 and Euclid was pressed upon their reason before any one of 
 them could comprehend a single problem. We were set to 
 work at the most abstruse sciences before we had well digested 
 the simpler ones, and posed ourselves at optics, natural philoso- 
 phy, ethics, astronomy, mathematics, metaphysics, &c, &c, 
 without the least relief from belles-lettres, modern history, ge- 
 ography, or poetry ; in short, without regard to any of those 
 acquirements — the classics excepted, which form essential parts 
 of a gentleman's education.* 
 
 Nevertheless, I jogged on with bene for the classics — satis for 
 the sciences — and mcdiocriler for the mathematics. I had, how- 
 ever, the mortification of seeing the stupidest fellows I ever met, 
 at school or college, beat me out of the field in some of the 
 examinations, and very justly obtain premiums for sciences 
 which I could not bring within the scope of my comprehen- 
 sion. 
 
 My consolation is, that many men of superior talent to my- 
 self came off no better ; and I had the satisfaction of knowing 
 that some of the most erudite, studious, and distinguished of 
 my contemporary collegians, went raving — and others melan- 
 choly — mad ; and I do believe, that there are at this moment 
 five or six of the most eminent of my academic rivals roaring in 
 asylums for lunatics. 
 
 * Mr. Hutchinson, a later provost, father of Lord Dononghmore, went 
 into the opposite extreme ; a most excellent classic scholar himself, lie wish- 
 ed to introduce every elegant branch of erudition ; to cultivate the modern 
 languages — in short, to adapt the course to the education of men of rank as 
 well as men of science. The plan was most laudable, but was voted not 
 monastic enough — indeed, a polished gentleman would have operated like 
 a ghost among those pedantic fellows. 
 
 Mr. Hutchinson went too far in proposing a riding-house. The scheme 
 drew forth from Dr. Duigenan a pamphlet called "Pranceriana," which 
 turned the project and projector into most consummate, but very coarse and 
 ill-natured ridicule. 
 
 Dr. Barret, late vice-provost, dining at the table of the new provost, who 
 lived in a style of elegance attempted by none of his predecessors, helped 
 himself to what he thought a peach, but which happened to be a shape 
 made of ice. On taking it into his mouth, never having tasted ice before, 
 he supposed, from the pan<* given to his teeth, and the shock which his 
 tongue and mouth instantly received, that the sensation was produced by 
 heat. Starting up, therefore, he cried out (and it was the first oath he had 
 ever uttered), "I'm scalded, by G — d !" — ran home, and sent for the next 
 apothecary. 
 
" ACCOMPLISHMENTS." 53 
 
 When I seek amusement by tracing the fate of such of my 
 school and college friends as I can get information about, I 
 find that many of the most promising and conspicuous have met 
 untimely ends ; and that most of those men whose great talents 
 distinguished them first in the university and afterward at the 
 bar, had entered, as sizers, for provision as well as for learning : 
 indigence and genius were thus jointly concerned in their mer- 
 ited elevation ; and I am convinced that the finest abilities are 
 frequently buried alive in affluence and in luxury. 
 
 The death of my grandmother, which now took place, made 
 a very considerable change in my situation, and I had sense 
 enough, though still very young, to see the necessity of turning 
 my mind toward a preparation for some lucrative profession — 
 either law, physic, divinity, or war. 
 
 I debated on all these, as I thought, with great impartiality : 
 the pedantry of college disgusted me with clericals ; wooden 
 legs put me out of conceit with warfare ; the horror of death 
 made me shudder at medicine ; and while the law was but a 
 lottery-trade, too precarious for my taste, manufacture was too 
 humiliating for my pride. Nothing, on the other hand, could 
 induce me to remain a walking gentleman ; and so, every oc- 
 cupation that I could think of having its peculiar disqualifica- 
 tion, I remained a considerable time in a state of great uncer- 
 tainty and disquietude. 
 
 Meanwhile, although my choice had nothing to do with the 
 matter, I got almost imperceptibly engaged in that species of 
 profession exercised by a young sportsman, whereby I was 
 initiated into a number of accomplishments ten times worse than 
 the negative ones of the walking gentleman : — namely, riding, 
 drinking, dancing, carousing, hunting, shooting, fishing, fighting, 
 racing, cock-fighting, &c, &c. 
 
 After my grandmother's death, as my father's country-house 
 was my home, so my two elder brothers became my tutors — 
 the rustics my precedents — and a newspaper my literature. 
 However, the foundation for my propensities had been too well 
 laid to be easily rooted up ; and while I certainly, for a while, 
 indulged in the habits of those around me, I was not at all idle 
 as to the pursuits I had been previously accustomed to. I had 
 
54: IRISH DISSIPATION IN 1778. 
 
 a pretty good assortment of books of my own, and seldom 
 passed a day without devoting some part of it to reading or 
 letter-writing ; and though I certainly somewhat mis-spent, I 
 can not accuse myself of having lost, the period I passed at 
 Bladsfort, since I obtained therein a full insight into the man- 
 ners, habits, and dispositions of the different classes of the Irish, 
 in situations and under circumstances which permitted Nature 
 to exhibit her traits without restraint or caution ; building on 
 which foundation, my greatest pleasure has ever been that of 
 adding to and embellishing the superstructure which my ex- 
 perience and observation have since conspired to raise. 
 
 It is quite impossible I can give a better idea of the dissipa- 
 tion of that period, into which I was thus plunged, than by 
 describing an incident I shall never forget, and which occurred 
 very soon after my first entree into the sporting sphere. 
 
 IRISH DISSIPATION IN 1778. 
 
 The Huntsman's Cottage — Preparations for a Seven-Days' Carousal — A Cock-fieht— Welsh 
 Main — Harmony — A Cow and a Hogshead of Wine consumed by the Party — Comparison 
 between former Dissipation and that of the Present Day — A Dandy at Dinner in Bond 
 gtreet — Captain Parsons Hoye and his Nephew — Character and Description of Both — 
 The Nephew disinherited by his Uncle for Dandyism — Curious Anecdote of Dr. Jenkins 
 piercing Admiral Crosby's Fist. 
 
 Close to the kennel of my father's hounds, he had built a 
 small cottage, which was occupied solely by an old huntsman, 
 his older wife, and his nephew, a whipper-in. The chase, and 
 the bottle, and the piper, were the enjoyments of winter ; and 
 nothing could recompense a suspension of these enjoyments. 
 
 My elder brother, justly apprehending that the frost and 
 snow of Christmas might probably prevent their usual occu- 
 pation of the chase, determined to provide against any list- 
 lessness during the shut-up period, by an uninterrupted match 
 of what was called " hard-going," till the weather should break 
 up. 
 
 A hogshead of superior claret was therefore sent to the cot- 
 tage of old Quin the huntsman ; and a fat cow killed, and 
 
PREPARATIONS FOR CAROUSAL. 55 
 
 plundered of her skin, was hung up by the heels. All the 
 windows were closed to keep out the light. One room, filled 
 with straw and numerous blankets, was destined for a bed- 
 chamber in common ; and another was prepared as a kitchen 
 for the use of the servants. Claret, cold, mulled, or buttered, 
 was to be the beverage for the whole company ; and in addition 
 to the cow above-mentioned, chickens, bacon, and bread, were 
 the only admitted viands. Wallace and Hosey, my father's and 
 my brother's pipers, and Doyle, a blind but a famous fiddler, 
 were employed to enliven the banquet, which it was determined 
 should continue till the cow became a skeleton, and the claret 
 should be on its stoop. 
 
 My two elder brothers ; two gentlemen of the name of 
 Taylor (one of them afterward a writer in India) ; a Mr. 
 Barrington Lodge, a rough songster ; Frank Skelton, a jester 
 and a but ; Jemmy Moffat, the most knowing sportsman of the 
 neighborhood ; and two other sporting gentlemen of the county, 
 composed the permanent bacchanalians. A few visiters were 
 occasionally admitted. 
 
 As for myself, I was too unseasoned to go through more than 
 the first ordeal, which was on a frosty St. Stephen's day, when 
 the " hard-goers," partook of their opening banquet, and several 
 neighbors were invited, to honor the commencement of what they 
 called their " shut-up pilgrimage." 
 
 The old huntsman was the only male attendant; and his 
 ancient spouse, once a kitchen-maid in the family, now some- 
 what resembling the amiable Leonarda in Gil Bias, was the 
 cook ; while the drudgery fell to the lot of the whipper-in. A 
 long knife was prepared to cut collops from the cow ; a large 
 turf fire seemed to court the gridiron ; the pot bubbled up as 
 if proud of its contents, while plump white chickens floated in 
 crowds upon the surface of the water ; the simmering potatoes, 
 just bursting their drab surtouts, exposed the delicate white- 
 ness of their mealy bosoms ;. the claret was tapped, and the 
 long earthen wide-mouthed pitchers stood gaping under the 
 impatient cock, to receive their portions. The pipers plied 
 their chants ; the fiddler tuned his Cremona ; and never did 
 any feast commence with more auspicious appearances of 
 
56 IRISH DISSIPATION IN 1778. 
 
 hilarity and dissipation; appearances which were not doomed 
 to be falsified. 
 
 I shall never forget the attraction this novelty had for my 
 youthful mind. All thoughts but those of good cheer were for 
 the time totally obliterated. A few curses were, it is true, 
 requisite to spur on old Leonarda's skill, but at length the 
 banquet entered; the luscious smoked bacon, bedded on its 
 cabbage mattress, and partly obscured by its own savory 
 steam, might have tempted the most fastidious of epicures ; 
 while the round trussed chickens, ranged by the half dozen on 
 hot pewter dishes, turned up their white plump merry-thoughts, 
 exciting equally the eye and appetite : fat collops of the hang- 
 ing cow, sliced indiscriminately from her tenderest points, 
 grilled over the clear embers upon a shining gridiron, half- 
 drowned in their own luscious juices, and garnished with little 
 pyramids of congenial shalots, smoked at the bottom of the 
 well-furnished board. A prologue of cherry-bounce (brandy) 
 preceded the entertainment, which was enlivened by hobnobs 
 and joyous toasts. 
 
 Numerous toasts, in fact, as was customary in those days, 
 intervened to prolong and give zest to the repast — every man 
 shouted forth his fair favorite, or convivial pledge ; and each 
 voluntarily surrendered a portion of his own reason, in bumpers 
 to the beauty of his neighbor's toasts. The pipers jerked from 
 their bags appropriate planxties to every jolly sentiment : the 
 jokers cracked the usual jests and ribaldry : one songster 
 chanted the joys of wine and women ; another gave, in full 
 glee, the pleasures of the fox-chase : the fiddler sawed his 
 merriest jigs : the old huntsman sounded his horn, and thrust- 
 ing his forefinger into his ear (to aid the quaver), gave the 
 view holloa ! of nearly ten minutes' duration ; to which melody 
 tally ho ! was responded by every stentorian voice. A fox's 
 brush stuck into a candlestick, in the centre of the table, was 
 worshipped as a divinity ! Claret flowed — bumpers were multi- 
 plied — and chickens, in the garb of spicy spitchcocks, assumed 
 the name of devils to whet the appetites which it was impossible 
 to conquer ! 
 
 My reason gradually began to lighten me of its burden, and 
 
THE FIRST ORDEAL. 57 
 
 in its last efforts kindly suggested the straw-chamber as my 
 asylum. Two couple of favorite hounds had been introduced to 
 share in the joyous pastime of their friends and masters ; and 
 the deep bass of their throats, excited by the shrillness of the 
 huntsman's tenor, harmonized by two rattling pipers, a jigging 
 fiddler, and twelve voices, in twelve different keys, all bellowing 
 in one continuous, unrelenting chime — was the last point of rec- 
 ognition which Bacchus permitted me to exercise : for my eyes 
 began to perceive a much larger company than the room actu- 
 ally contained ; the lights were more than doubled, without any 
 virtual increase of their number ; and even the chairs and tables 
 commenced dancing a series of minuets before me. A faint 
 " Tally-ho !" was attempted by my reluctant lips ; but I believe 
 the effort was unsuccessful, and I very soon lost, in the straw- 
 room, all that brilliant consciousness of existence, in the possession 
 of which the morning had found me so happy. 
 
 Just as I was closing my eyes to a twelve-hours' slumber, I 
 distinguished the general roar of "Stole away /" which rose al- 
 most up to the roof of old Quin's cottage. 
 
 At noon, next day, a scene of a different nature was exhib- 
 ited. I found, on waking, two associates by my side, in as per- 
 fect insensibility as that from which I had just aroused. Our 
 piper seemed indubitably dead ! but the fiddler, who had the 
 privilege of age and blindness, had taken a hearty nap, and 
 seemed as much alive as ever. 
 
 The room of banquet had been re-arranged by the old wo- 
 man : spitchcocked chickens, fried rashers, and broiled marrow- 
 bones, appeared struggling for precedence. The clean cloth 
 looked, itself, fresh and exciting ; jugs of mulled and buttered 
 claret foamed hot upon the refurnished table, and a better or 
 heartier breakfast I never in my life enjoyed. 
 
 A few members of the jovial crew had remained all night 
 at their posts ; but I suppose alternately took some rest, as 
 they seemed not at all affected by their repletion. Soap and 
 hot water restored at once their spirits and their persons ; and 
 it was determined that the rooms should be ventilated and 
 cleared out for a cock-fight, to pass time till the approach of 
 dinner. 
 
 3* 
 
58 * IRISH DISSIPATION IN 17TO. 
 
 In this battle-royal, every man backed his own bird ; twelve 
 of which courageous animals were set down together to fight 
 it out — the survivor to gain all. In point of principle, the 
 battle of the Horatii and Curiatii was reacted; and in about 
 an hour, one cock crowed out his triumph over the mangled 
 body of his last opponent — being himself, strange to say, but 
 little wounded. The other eleven lay dead ; and to the victor 
 was unanimously voted a writ of ease, with sole monarchy over 
 the henroost for the remainder of his days : and I remember 
 him, for many years, the proud commandant of his poultry-yard 
 and seraglio. 
 
 Fresh visiters were introduced each successive day, and the 
 seventh morning had arisen before the feast broke up. As 
 that day advanced, the cow was proclaimed to have furnished 
 her full quantum of good dishes ; the claret was upon its stoop ; 
 and the last gallon, mulled with a pound of spices, was drunk 
 in tumblers to the next merry meeting ! All now retired to 
 their natural rest, until the evening announced a different 
 scene. 
 
 An early supper, to be partaken of by all the young folks, 
 of both sexes, in the neighborhood, was provided in the dwel- 
 ling-house, to terminate the festivities. A dance, as usual wound 
 up the entertainment ; and what was then termed a " raking pot 
 of tea" put a finishing stroke, in jollity and good-humor, to such 
 a revel as I never saw before, and, I am sure, shall never see 
 again. 
 
 When I compare with the foregoing the habits of the pres- 
 ent day, and see the grandsons of those joyous and vigorous 
 sportsmen mincing their fish and tit-bits at their favorite box 
 in Bond street ; amalgamating their ounce of salad on a silver 
 saucer ; employing six sauces to coax one appetite ; burning 
 up the palate, to make its enjoyments the more exquisite ; 
 sipping their acid claret, disguised by an olive or neutralized 
 by a chesnut ; lisping out for the scented waiter, and paying 
 him the price of a feast for the modicum of a Lilliputian, and 
 the pay of a captain for the attendance of a blackguard — it 
 amuses me extremely, and makes me speculate on what their 
 forefathers would have done to those admirable Epicenes, if 
 
THEN AND NOW. 59 
 
 they had had them at the " Pilgrimage" in the huntsman's 
 cot! 
 
 To these extremes of former roughness and modern affecta- 
 tion it would require the pen of such a writer as Fielding to do 
 ample justice. It may, however, afford our reader some diver- 
 sion to trace the degrees which led from the grossness of the 
 former down to the effeminacy of the latter ; and these may, in 
 a great measure, be collected from the various incidents which 
 will be found scattered throughout these sketches of sixty solar 
 revolutions. 
 
 Nothing, indeed, can better illustrate the sensation which 
 the grandfathers, or even aged fathers, of those slim lads of the 
 Bond-street establishments, must have felt upon finding their 
 offspring in the occupation I have just mentioned, than a story 
 relating to Captain Parsons Hoye, of County Wicklow, who 
 several years since met with an instance of the kind at Hudson's, 
 in Covent-Garden. 
 
 A nephew of his, an effeminate young fellow, who had re- 
 turned from travelling, and who expected to be his heir, acci- 
 dentally came into the coffee-room. Neither uncle nor nephew 
 knew each other ; but old Parsons' disgust at the dandified 
 manners, language, and dress of the youth, gave rise to an oc- 
 currence which drew from the bluff seaman epithets rather too 
 coarse to record. The end of it was, that, when Parsons dis- 
 covered the relationship of the stranger, he struck him out of a 
 will which he had made, and died very soon after, as if on pur- 
 pose to mortify the macaroni ! 
 
 We will take this opportunity of subjoining an accurate de- 
 scription of the person of Captain Parsons Hoye, thereby ena- 
 bling our reader to estimate the singularity of his collision with 
 the dandy. 
 
 Commodore Trunnion was a civilized man, and a beauty (but 
 a fool), compared to Parsons Hoye. He had a moderate hered- 
 itary property near Wicklow ; had been a captain in the royal 
 navy ; was a bad farmer, a worse sportsman, and a blustering 
 justice of the peace ; but great at potation ! and what was called, 
 " in the main, a capital fellow." He was nearly as boisterous 
 as his adopted element : his voice was always as if on the cpiar- 
 
60 IRISH DISSIPATION IN 1778. 
 
 ter-deck; and the whistle of an old boatswain, who had been 
 decapitated by his side, hung as a memento, by a thong of 
 leather, to his waistcoat button-hole. It was frequently had 
 recourse to, and, whenever he wanted a word, supplied the de- 
 ficiency. 
 
 In form, the captain was squat, broad, and coarse : a large 
 purple nose, with a broad crimson chin to match, were the only 
 features of any consequence in his countenance, except a couple 
 of good-enough bloodshot eyes, screened by most exuberant 
 grizzle eye-lashes. His powdered wig had behind it a queue 
 in the form of a handspike, and a couple of rolled-up paste 
 curls, like a pair of carronades, adorned its broadsides ; a blue 
 coat, with slash cuffs, and plenty of navy-buttons, surmounted 
 a scarlet waistcoat — the skirts of which, he said, he would have 
 of their enormous length, because it assured him that the tailor 
 had put all the cloth in it ; a black Barcelona adorned his neck ; 
 an old round hat, bordered with gold lace, pitched on one side of 
 his head, and turned up also on one side, with a huge cockade 
 stuck into a buttonless loop, gave him a swaggering air. He 
 bore a shillelagh, the growth of his own estate, in a fist which 
 would cover more ground than the best shoulder of wether-mut- 
 ton in a London market* Yet the captain had a look of gen- 
 erosity, good nature, benevolence, and hospitality, which his fea- 
 tures did their very best to conceal, and which none but a good 
 physiognomist could possibly discover. 
 
 * I once saw the inconvenience of that species of fist strongly exemplified. 
 The late Admiral Cosby, of Stradbally hall, had as large and as brown a 
 fist as any admiral in his majesty's service. Happening one day unfortu- 
 nately to lay it on the table during dinner, at Colonel Fitzgerald's, Merrion 
 square, a Mr. Jenkins, a half-blind doctor, who chanced to sit next to the 
 admiral, cast his eye upon the fist : the imperfection of his vision led him to 
 believe it was a French roll of bread, and, without further ceremony, the 
 doctor thrust his fork plump into the admiral's fist ! The confusion which 
 resulted may be easily imagined. 
 
JOE KELLY HIS FATHER. 61 
 
 MY BROTHER'S HUNTING-LODGE. 
 
 Wakins the Piper — Curious Seme nr my Brother's Hunting-Lodge — Joe Kelley's and Peter 
 Alley's Headi fastened to the Wall— Operations practised in extricating Them. 
 
 I met with a ludicrous instance of the dissipation of even 
 
 later days, a few months after my marriage. Lady B and 
 
 myself took a tour through some of the southern parts of Ire- 
 land, and among other places visited Castle Durrow, near which 
 place my brother, Henry French Barrington, had built a hunt- 
 ing-cottage, Avherein he happened to have given a house-warm- 
 ing the previous day. 
 
 The company, as might be expected at such a place and on 
 such an occasion, was not the most select ; in fact, they were 
 " hard-going" sportsmen. 
 
 Among the rest, Mr. Joseph Kelly, of unfortunate fate, 
 brother to Mr. Michael Kelly (who by-the-by does not say a 
 word about him in his Reminiscences), had been invited, to add 
 to the merriment by his pleasantry and voice, and had come 
 down from Dublin for the purpose. 
 
 It may not be amiss to say something here of that remarka- 
 ble person. I knew him from his early youth. His father was 
 a dancing master in Mary street, Dublin ; and I found in the 
 newspapers of that period, a number of puffs, in French and 
 English, of Mr. O'Kelly's abilities in that way — one of which, 
 a certificate from a French artiste, of Paris, is curious enough.* 
 What could put it into his son's head, that he had been master 
 of the ceremonies -at Dublin castle is rather perplexing! He 
 became a wine-merchant latterly, dropped the O, which had 
 
 * Mr. O'Kelly is just returned from Paris. Ladies and gentlemen, who 
 are pleased to send their commands to No. 30 Mary street, will be most re- 
 spectfully attended to. 
 
 Je certifie que M. Guillaume O'Kelly est venu a Paris pour prendre de 
 tnoi lemons, et qu'il est sorti de mes mains en etat de pouvoir enseigner la 
 dance avec succes. 
 
 Gardel, Mditre a Danser de la Reine, 
 et Maitre des Ballets du JRoi. 
 A Paris, le 20£me Aoitt, 1781. 
 
62 my brother's hunting-lodge 
 
 been placed at the beginning of his name, and was a well-con- 
 ducted and respectable man.* 
 
 Joe was a slender young man, remarkably handsome ; but 
 with regard to character, always Avhat in that part of the coun- 
 try they emphatically styled "tJie devil!" I recollect his 
 dancing a hornpipe in a sailor's costume most admirably upon 
 the stage. He also sang the songs of Young Meadows, in 
 " Love in a Village," extremely well, as likewise those of Mac- 
 heath and other parts ; but he could never give the acting any 
 effect. He was, strictly speaking, a bravura singer : there was 
 no pathos, nothing touchant in his cadences, but in drinking- 
 songs, &c, he was unrivalled. As his brother has not thought 
 proper to speak about him, it might be considered out of place 
 for me to go into his history, all of which I know, and many 
 passages of which might probably be both entertaining and in- 
 structive. Some parts of it, however, are already on record, 
 and others I hope will never be recorded. The duke of Wel- 
 lington knew Joe Kelly extremely well ; and if he had merited 
 advancement, I dare say he would have received it. The last 
 conversation I had with him was on the Boulevard Italien, in 
 Paris. I was walking with my son, then belonging to the fifth 
 dragoon guards. Kelly came up and spoke to us. I shook 
 him by the hand, and he talked away : spoke to my son — no 
 answer; he tried him again — no reply. Kelly seemed sur- 
 prised, and said, " Don't you know me, Barrington ? why don't 
 you speak to me ?" — " 'Tis because I do know you that I do not 
 speak to you," replied my son. Kelly blushed, but turned it 
 off with a laugh. I could not then guess the reason for this cut 
 direct ; and my son refused to tell me : I have since, however, 
 become acquainted with it, and think the sarcasm well merited. 
 It was indeed the bitterer, from its being the only one I ever 
 heard my son utter. Joe Kelly killed his man in a duel, for 
 which he was tried and narrowly escaped. According to his oicn 
 
 * But as lie was a Roman catholic, and as no Roman catholic could then 
 hold any office in the vice-regal establishment of Dublin castle, Mr. M. Kelly 
 must have been misinformed on that point as to his father, whom I have 
 often seen. Mr. Gofton, a dancing-master of Anne street, Linen hall, and 
 uncle to Doctor Barrett, the late extraordinary vice-provost of Trinity col- 
 lege, was a friend of Mr. O'Kelly's, and taught me to the day of his death, 
 which was sudden. 
 
WAKING THE PIPER. 63 
 
 i 
 
 account, indeed, he killed plenty more men at the battle of 
 Waterloo and in other actions. He was himself shot at Paris 
 by a commissary with whom he had quarrelled, and the 
 humorists remarked thereupon that Joe had died a natural 
 death. 
 
 Of this convivial assemblage at my brother's, he was, I sup- 
 pose, the very life and soul. The dining-room had not been 
 finished when the day of the dinner-party arrived, and the lower 
 parts of the walls having only that morning received their last 
 coat of plaster, were, of course, totally wet. 
 
 We had intended to surprise my brother ; but had not calcu- 
 lated on the scene I was to witness. On driving to the cottage- 
 door I found it open, while a dozen dogs, of different descrip- 
 tions, showed ready to receive us not in the most polite man- 
 ner. My servant's whip, however, soon sent them about their 
 business, and I ventured into the parlor to see what cheer. It 
 was about ten in the morning : the room was strewed with 
 empty bottles — some broken — some interspersed with glasses, 
 plates, dishes, knives, spoons, &c, all in glorious confusion. 
 Here and there were heaps of bones, relics of the former day's 
 entertainment, which the dogs? seizing their opportunity, had 
 picked. Three or four of the Bacchanalians lay fast asleep 
 upon chairs — one or two others on the floor, among whom a 
 piper lay on his back, apparently dead, with a table-cloth 
 spread over him, and surrounded by four or five candles, burnt 
 to the sockets ; his chanter and bags were laid scientifically 
 across his body, his mouth was wide open, and his nose made 
 ample amends for the silence of his drone. Joe Kelly and 
 a Mr. Peter Alley were fast asleep in their chairs, close to the 
 wall. 
 
 Had I never viewed such a scene before, it would have 
 almost terrified me ; but it was nothing more than the ordinary 
 custom which we called waking the piper, when he had got too 
 drunk to make any more music. 
 
 I went out, and sent away my carriage and its inmate to 
 Castle Durrow, whence we had come, and afterward proceeded 
 to seek my brother. No servant was to be seen, man or 
 woman. I went to the stables, wherein I found three or four 
 
64 MY BROTHERS HUNTING -LODGE. 
 
 more of the goodly company, who had just been able to reach 
 their horses, but were seized by Morpheus before they could 
 mount them, and so lay in the mangers awaiting a more favora- 
 ble opportunity. Keturning hence to the cottage, I found my 
 brother, also asleep, on the only bed which it then afforded : he 
 had no occasion to put on his clothes, since he had never' taken 
 them off. 
 
 I next waked Dan Tyron, a wood-ranger of Lord Ashbrook, 
 who had acted as maitre d'hotel in making the arrangements, 
 and providing a horse-load of game to fill up the banquet. I 
 then inspected the parlor, and insisted on breakfast. Dan 
 Tyron set to work : an old woman was called in from an 
 adjoining cabin, the windows were opened, the room cleared, 
 the floor swept, the relics removed, and the fire lighted in the 
 kitchen. The piper was taken away senseless, but my brother 
 would not suffer either Joe or Alley to be disturbed till break- 
 fast was ready. Xo time was lost ; and, after a very brief 
 interval, we had before us abundance of fine eggs, and milk 
 fresh from the cow, with brandy, sugar, and nutmeg, in plenty ; 
 a large loaf, fresh butter, a cold round of beef, which had not 
 been produced on the previous day, red herrings, and a bowl 
 dish of potatoes roasted on the turf ashes ; in addition to which, 
 ale, whiskey, and port, made up the refreshments. All being 
 duly in order, we at length awakened Joe Kelly, and Peter 
 Alley, his neighbor : they had slept soundly, though with no 
 other pillow than the wall : and my brother announced break- 
 fast with a view liolloa /* 
 
 The twain immmediately started, and roared in unison with 
 their host most tremendously ! it was, however, in a very differ- 
 ent tone from the view holloa, and perpetuated much longer. 
 
 " Come, boys," says French, giving Joe a pull — " come !" 
 
 " Oh, murder !" says Joe, " I can't !" — " Murder ! — murder !" 
 echoed Peter. French pulled them again upon which they 
 roared the more, still retaining their places. I have in my 
 lifetime laughed till I nearly became spasmodic ; but never 
 were my risible muscles put to greater tension than upon this 
 
 * The shout of hunters when the game is in view. 
 
A FIX "RAPE OF THE LOCK." 65 
 
 occasion. The wall, as I said before, had only that day re- 
 ceived a coat of mortar, and of course was quite soft and yield- 
 ing;, when Joe and Peter thought proper to make it their pil- 
 low ; it was, nevertheless, setting fast, from the heat and lights 
 of an eighteen hours' carousal ; and, in the morning, when my 
 brother awakened his guests, the mortar had completely set, 
 and their hair being the thing most calculated to amalgamate 
 therewith, the entire of Joe's stock, together with his queue, 
 and half his head, was thoroughly and irrecoverably bedded in 
 the greedy and now marble cement, so that if determined to 
 move, he must have taken the wall along with him, for separate 
 it would not. One side of Peter's head was in the same state 
 of imprisonment. Nobody was able to assist them, and there 
 they both stuck fast. 
 
 A consultation was now held on this pitiful case, which I 
 maliciously endeavored to prolong as much as I could, and 
 which was, in fact, every now and then interrupted by a roar 
 from Peter or Joe, as they made fresh efforts to rise. At 
 length, it was proposed by Dan Tyron to send for the stone- 
 cutter, and get him to cut them out of the wall with a chisel. 
 I was literally unable to speak two sentences for laughing. 
 The old woman meanwhile tried to soften the obdurate wall 
 with melted butter and new milk — but in vain. I related the 
 school story how Hannibal had worked through the Alps with 
 hot vinegar and hot irons : this experiment likewise was made, 
 but Hannibal's solvent had no better success than the old 
 crone's. 
 
 Peter Alley, being of a more passionate nature, grew ulti- 
 mately quite outrageous : he roared, gnashed his teeth, and 
 swore vengeance against the mason ; but as he was only held 
 by one side, a thought at last struck him : he asked for two 
 knives, which being brought, he whetted one against the other, 
 and introducing the blades close to his skull, sawed away at 
 cross corners till he was liberated, with the loss only of half 
 his hair and a piece of his scalp, which he had sliced off in 
 zeal and haste for his liberty. I never saw a fellow so extrav- 
 agantly happy ! Fur was scraped from the crown of a hat, to 
 stop the bleeding ; his head was duly tied up with the old 
 
66 my brother's hunting -lodge. 
 
 woman's praskeen ;* and he was soon in a state of bodily con- 
 valescence. Our solicitude was now required solely for Joe, 
 whose head was too deeply buried to be exhumated with so 
 much facility. At this moment, Bob Casey, of Ballynakill, a 
 very celebrated wig-maker, just dropped in, to see what he 
 could pick up honestly in the way of his profession, or steal in 
 the way of anything else ; and he immediately undertook to get 
 Mr. Kelly out of the mortar by a very expert but tedious pro- 
 cess, namely clipping with his scissors, and then rooting out 
 with an oyster-knife. He thus finally Succeeded, in less than 
 an hour, in setting Joe once more at liberty, at the price of his 
 queue, which was totally lost, and of the exposure of his raw 
 and bleeding occiput. The operation was, indeed, of a mon- 
 grel description — somewhat between a complete tonsure and 
 an imperfect scalping, to both of which denominations it cer- 
 tainly presented claims. However, it is an ill wind that blows 
 nobody good ! Bob Casey got the making of a skull-piece for 
 Joe, and my brother French had the pleasure of paying for it, 
 as gentlemen in those days honored any order given by a guest 
 to the family shopkeeper or artisan. 
 
 I ate a hearty breakfast, returned to Durrow, and having 
 rejoined my companion, we pursued our journey to Waterford, 
 amusing ourselves the greater part of the way with Ihe circum- 
 stances just related, which, however, I do not record merely 
 as an abstract anecdote, but, as I observed in starting, to show 
 the manners and habits of Irish country society and sportsmen, 
 even so recently as thirty years ago ; and to illustrate the 
 changes of those habits and manners, and the advances toward 
 civilization, which, coupled with the extraordinary want of 
 corresjwndhg prosjjcrity, present phenomena I am desirous of 
 impressing upon my reader's mind, throughout the whole of 
 this miscellaneous collection of original anecdotes and observa- 
 tions. 
 
 * A coarse dirty apron, worn by working-women in a kitchen, in the 
 country parts of Ireland. 
 
IRISH PATRIOTISM. 67 
 
 CHOICE OF PROFESSION. 
 
 The Army — Irish Volunteers described — Their Military Ardor — The Author inoculated 
 therewith — He grows Cooler — The Church — The Faculty — The Law — Objections to each 
 — Colonel Barrington removes his Establishment to the Irish Capital — A Country Gen- 
 tleman taking up a City Residence. 
 
 My veering opinion as to the choice of profession was nearly 
 decided by that military ardor which seized all Ireland, when 
 the whole country had entered into resolutions to free itself 
 for ever from English domination. The entire kingdom took 
 up arms — regiments were formed in every quarter — the high- 
 est, the lowest, and the middle orders, all entered the ranks 
 of freedom, and every corporation, whether civil or mili- 
 tary, pledged life and fortune to attain and establish Irish 
 independence. 
 
 My father had raised and commanded two corps — a dragoon 
 regiment called the Cullenagh rangers, and the Ballyroan light- 
 infantry. My elder brother commanded the Kilkenny horse, 
 and the Durry light-dragoons. The general enthusiasm caught 
 me, -and before I well knew what* I was about, found myself 
 a military martinet and a red-hot patriot. Having been a 
 university man, I was also considered to be of course a writer, 
 and was accordingly called on to draw up resolutions for 
 volunteer regiments all over the county. This was the first 
 tirade I eveiv attempted on a political subject, and it being 
 quite short enough and warm enough to be comprehended by 
 all the parties, it was unanimously adopted — every man swear- 
 ing, as he kissed the blade of his sword, that he would adhere 
 to these resolutions to the last drop of his blood, which he would 
 by no means spare, till we had finally achieved the independ- 
 ence of our country. "We were very sincere, and really I think, 
 determined to perish, if necessary, in the cause — at least, I am 
 sure, I was so. 
 
 The national point was gained, but not without much diffi- 
 culty and danger. The Irish parliament had refused to grant 
 supplies to the crown for more than six months. The people 
 
68 CHOICE OF PROFESSION. 
 
 had entered into resolutions to prevent the importation of any 
 British merchandise or manufactures. The entire kingdom had 
 disavowed all English authority or jurisdiction, external or in- 
 ternal ; the judges and magistrates had declined to act under 
 British statutes : the flame had spread rapidly, and had become 
 irresistible. 
 
 The British government saw that either temporizing or an 
 appeal to force would occasion the final loss of Ireland. One 
 hundred and fifty thousand independent soldiers, well armed, 
 well clothed, and well disciplined, were not to be coped with ; 
 and England yielded. Thus the volunteers kept their oaths : 
 they redeemed their pledge, and did not lay down their arms 
 until the independence of Ireland had been pronounced from the 
 throne, and the distinctness of the Irish nation promulgated in 
 the government gazette of London. 
 
 Having carried our point with the English, and having pro- 
 posed to prove our independence by going to war with Portugal 
 about our linens, we completely set up for ourselves, except 
 that Ireland was bound constitutionally and irrevocably never 
 to have any king but the king of Great Britain. 
 
 "We were now, in ' fact, regularly in a fighting mood : and 
 being quite in good-humor with England, we determined to fight 
 the French, who had threatened to invade us ; and I recollect 
 a volunteer belonging to one of my father's corps, a school- 
 master of the name of Beal, proposing a resolution to the Bally- 
 roan infantry, which purported that " they would never stop 
 fighting the French till they had flogged every man of them 
 into mincemeat!" This magnanimous resolution was adopted 
 with cheers, and was, as usual, sworn to, each hero kissing the 
 muzzle of his musket. 
 
 I am not going any further into a history of those times, to 
 which I have alluded in order to mention what for the moment 
 excited my warlike ardor, and fixed my determination, although 
 but temporarily, to adopt the military profession. 
 
 On communicating this decision to my father, he procured 
 me, from a friend and neighbor, General Hunt "Walsh, a com- 
 mission in that officer's own regiment, the thirtieth. The style 
 of the thing pleased me well ; but, upon being informed that I 
 
THE ARMY THE CHURCH THE FACULTY. 69 
 
 should immediately join the regiment in America, my heroic 
 tendencies received a serious check. I had not contemplated 
 transatlantic emigration ; and, feeling that I could get my head 
 broken just as well in my own country, I, after a few days' 
 mature consideration, perceived my military ardor grow cooler 
 and cooler every hour — until, at length, it was obviously de- 
 funct. I therefore wrote to the general a most thankful letter, 
 but at the same time " begging the favor of him to present my 
 commission in his regiment to some hardier soldier, who could 
 serve his majesty with more vigor; as I, having been brought 
 up by my grandmother, felt as yet too tender to be any way 
 effective on foreign service — though I had no objection to fight 
 as much as possible in Ireland, if necessary." The general 
 accepted my resignation, and presented my commission to a 
 young friend of his, whose brains were blown out in the very 
 first engagement. 
 
 Having thus rejected the military, I next turned my thoughts 
 to that very opposite profession — the clerical. But though 
 preaching was certainly a much safer and more agreeable em- 
 ployment than bush-fighting, yet a curacy and a wooden leg 
 being pretty much on a parallel in point of remuneration, and 
 as I had the strongest objection to be half-starved in the service 
 of either the king or the altar, I also declined the cassock, 
 assuring my father that " I felt I v/as not steady enough to 
 make an ' exemplary parson ;' and as any other kind of parson 
 generally did more harm than good in a country, I could not, in 
 my conscience, take charge of the morals of a flock of men, 
 women, and children, when I should have quite enough to do to 
 manage my own ; and I should therefore leave the church to 
 some more orthodoxical graduate." 
 
 Medicine, therefore, was the next in the list of professions to 
 which I had, abstractly, some liking. I had attended several 
 courses of anatomical lectures at Dublin, and, although with 
 some repugnant feelings, I had studied that most sublime of all 
 sciences, human organization, by a persevering attention to 
 the celebrated wax-works of that university. But my horror 
 and disgust of animal jjutridity in all its branches was so great, 
 inclusive even of stinking venison (which most people admire), 
 
70 CHOICE OF PROFESSION. 
 
 that all surgical practice by me was necessarily out of the 
 question ; and medicine without surgery presenting no better 
 chance than a curacy, it shared an equally bad fate with the 
 sword and the pulpit. 
 
 Of the liberal and learned professions, there now remained 
 but one, namely, the law. Now as to this, I was told by sev- 
 eral old practitioners, who had retired into the country (from 
 having no business to do in town), that if I was even as wise 
 as Alfred, or as learned as Lycurgus, nobody would give me 
 sixpence for all my law (if I had a hundred weight of it) until 
 I had spent at least ten years in watching the manufacture. 
 However, they consoled me by saying that, if I could put up 
 with light eating and water-drinking during that period, I 
 might then have a very reasonable chance of getting some 
 briefs, particularly after having a gang of attorneys to dine 
 with me. Here I was damped again! — and though I should 
 have broken my heart if condemned to remain much longer a 
 walking gentleman, I determined to wait a while, and see if 
 Nature would open my propensities a little wider, and give 
 me some more decisive indication of what she thought me fit- 
 test for. 
 
 While in this comfortless state of indecision, my father like 
 other country-gentlemen, to gratify his lady under the shape 
 of educating his children, gave his consent to be launched into 
 the new scenes and pleasures of a city residence. He accord- 
 ingly purchased an excellent house in Clare street, Merrion 
 square ; left a steward in the country to mismanage his con- 
 cerns there ; made up new wardrobes for the servants ; got a 
 fierce three-cocked hat for himself ; and removed his establish- 
 ment (the hounds excepted) to the metropolis of Ireland. 
 
 Here my good and well-bred mother (for such she was) had 
 her Galway pride revived and gratified ; the green coach de 
 ccremonie was regilt and regarnished, and four black horses, 
 with two postillions and a sixteen-stone footman, completed her 
 equipage. 
 
 I had my bit of blood in the stable ; my elder brother, who 
 had been in the " 1st horse," had plenty of them : my father 
 had his old hunter "brown Jack;" and we set out at what is 
 
CAPTAIN o'FLAHERTY— HIS WIFE. 71 
 
 commonly called a great rate — but which great rates are gen- 
 erally, like a fox-chase, more hot than durable. However the 
 thing went on well enough; and during our city residence 
 many pleasurable and many whimsical incidents occurred to 
 me and other individuals of my family ; one of which was most 
 interesting to myself, and will form a leading feature in my 
 subsequent Memoirs. 
 
 Before adverting to this, however, I will mention a lament- 
 able event which occurred during our stay in Clare street, to a 
 neighbor of ours, Captain O'Flaherty, brother to Sir John, 
 whom I shall hereafter notice. The captain resided nearly 
 facing us, and though the event I speak of, and the very ex- 
 traordinary incident which succeeded it, are clearly digressions, 
 yet the whole story is so interesting, that I will, without farther 
 apology, introduce it. 
 
 MURDEE, OF CAPTAIN O'FLAHERTY. 
 
 Murder of Captain O'Flaherty by Mr. Lanegan, his Son's Tutor, and Mrs. O'Flaherty — The 
 Latter, alter betraying her Accomplices, escapes beyond Seas — Trial of Lanegan — He 
 is hanged at Dublin — Terrific Appearance of his Supposed Ghost to his Pupil, David 
 Lander, and the Author, at the Temple, in London — Lander nearly dies of Fright — Lan- 
 egan's Extraordinary Escape — Not even suspected in Ireland — He gets otf to France, 
 and enters the Monastery of La Trappe — A Church- Yard Anecdote — My own Super- 
 stition nearly fatal to Me. 
 
 Captain O'Flaherty, a most respectable gentleman, resi- 
 ded in Clare street, Dublin, exactly opposite my father's house. 
 He had employed a person of the name of Lanegan, as tutor 
 to the late John Burke O'Flaherty, and his other sons. But 
 after some little time Lanegan became more attentive to Mrs. 
 O'Flaherty, the mother, than to her boys. 
 
 This woman had certainly no charms of either appearance 
 or address, which might be thought calculated to captivate 
 any one : and there was a something indescribably repulsive 
 in her general manners, in consequence whereof all acquaint- 
 ance between her and our family soon terminated. She was 
 not satisfied with the occasional society of Mr. Lanegan, while 
 he continued in the house as tutor, but actually proceeded to 
 
72 MURDER OF CAPTAIN (^FLAHERTY. 
 
 form a criminal intercourse with him ; and, in order to free 
 herself from all restraint, meditated the very blackest of human 
 crimes, which she determined to perpetrate by giving the un- 
 fortunate captain a rice pudding for his dinner, by virtue 
 whereof she might at any rate be saved the trouble of ever 
 making another for him. 
 
 Mr. Lanegan was with this view sent by her to several apoth- 
 ecaries' shops ; at each of which, to avoid suspicion, he asked 
 for a very little stuff to kill the rats ; and thus, by small portions, 
 they ultimately procured a sufficient quantity to kill not only 
 the rats, but the husband into the bargain. 
 
 The murderous scheme was carried into execution by Mrs, 
 O'Flaherty herself, and the captain was found dead in his bed ! 
 Some misgivings, however, were generated from the appear- 
 ance of the body, which swelled and exhibited black spots ; 
 and these, with other unequivocal signs, conspired to prove 
 that the rats (for they were actually dealt with) had not been 
 the only sufferers. The coroner's inquest, indeed, soon decided 
 the matter, by a verdict of "Poisoned by arsenic." 
 
 Mrs. O'Flaherty and Mr. Lanegan began now to suspect 
 that they were in rather a ticklish situation, and determined 
 to take a private journey into the country until they should 
 discover how things were likely to go. The adulterous wife, 
 full of crime and terror, conceived a suspicion that Lanegan, 
 who had only purchased the poison by her directions, and had 
 not administered it (except to the rats) might turn king's evi- 
 dence, get the reward, and save himself by convicting her. 
 Such a catastrophe she therefore determined if possible to pre- 
 vent. 
 
 On their journey she told him that, upon full consideration 
 she conceived there could be no possibility of bringing conclu- 
 sive evidence against them, inasmuch as it would appear most 
 probable that the captain had, by accident, taken the poison 
 himself — and that she was determined to surrender and take 
 her trial as soon as possible, recommending Mr. Lanegan to do 
 the same. In pursuance of this decision, as they passed near 
 the town of Gowran, County Kilkenny, she said, "There is 
 the gate of a magistrate : do you go up first, put on a bold face, 
 
TRIAL AND EXECUTION OF LANEGAN. 73 
 
 assure him of your entire innocence, and say that as infamous 
 and false reports have been spread, both of yourself and me, 
 you came expressly to surrender and take your trial ; — and 
 that you could not live in society under such vile imputations ! 
 Say, also, that you hear Mrs. O'Flaherty intends likewise to 
 surrender herself in the evening, and request that he will be at 
 home to receive her." 
 
 Lanegan suspecting no fraud, followed these instructions lit- 
 erally ; he was secured, though without roughness, and prepar- 
 ations were made for his being taken to Dublin next day in 
 custody. The magistrate waited for Mrs. O'Flaherty, but 
 she did not appear : he sent down to his gatehouse to know 
 if any lady had passed by : the porter informed him that a 
 lady and gentleman had been near the gate in a carriage, 
 in the morning, and that the gentleman got out and went 
 up the avenue to the house, after which the lady had driven 
 away. 
 
 It now appearing that they had been actually together, and 
 that Lanegan had been telling falsehoods respecting his com- 
 panion, strong suspicions arose in the mind of the magistrate. 
 His prisoner was confined more closely, sent under a strong 
 guard to Dublin, indicted for murder, and tried at the ensuing 
 assizes. 
 
 Positive evidence was given of Lanegan's criminal connec- 
 tion with Mrs. O'Flaherty, coupled with the strongest circum- 
 stantial proof against him. He had not the courage boldly to 
 deny the fact, and being found guilty was sentenced to be 
 hanged and quartered ; the former part of which sentence hav- 
 ing been carried into execution, and his body cut on each limb, 
 it was delivered up to his mother for burial. Mrs. O'Flaherty 
 escaped beyond sea, and has, I believe, never since been heard 
 of in the country. 
 
 Such is the history which forms the prelude to an occur- 
 rence in which I was a party, several months after, and which 
 may be regarded as a curious illustration of stories of supposed 
 ghosts. 
 
 A templar and a friend of mine, Mr. David Lander, a soft, 
 fat, good-humored superstitious young fellow, was sitting in 
 
 4 
 
74 MURDER OF CAPTAIN o'fLAIIERTY. 
 
 his lodgings, Devereux court, London, one evening at twilight. 
 I was with him, and we were agreeably employed in eating 
 strawberries and drinking Maderia. While thus chatting away 
 in cheerful mood, and laughing loudly at some remark made 
 by one of us, my back being toward the door, I perceived my 
 friend's color suddenly change — his eyes seemed fixed and 
 ready to start out of his head — his lips quivered convulsively 
 — his teeth chattered — large drops of perspiration flowed down 
 his forehead — and his hair stood nearly erect. 
 
 As I saw nothing calculated to excite these emotions, I nat- 
 urally conceived my friend was seized with a fit, and rose to 
 assist him. He did not regard my movements in the least-, 
 but, seizing a knife which lay on the table, with the gait of a 
 palsied man, retreated backward — his eyes still fixed — to the 
 distant part of the room, where he stood shivering, and attempt- 
 ing to pray ; but not at that moment recollecting any prayer, 
 he began to repeat his catechism, thinking it the next best 
 thing he could do : as — " What is your name % David Lander ! 
 Who gave you that name % My godfathers and godmothers in 
 baptism !" &c, &c. 
 
 I instantly concluded the man was mad ; and turning about 
 to go for some assistance, I was myself not a little startled at 
 sight of a tall, rough-looking personage, many days unshaved, 
 in a very shabby black dress, and altogether of the most un- 
 couth appearance. 
 
 " Don't be frightened, Mr. Lander," said the figure ; " sure 
 'tis me that's here." 
 
 When Davy Lander heard the voice, he fell on his knees, 
 and subsequently flat upon his face, in which position he lay 
 motionless. 
 
 The spectre (as I now began to imagine it) stalked toward 
 the door, and I was in hopes he intended to make his exit 
 thereby ; instead of which, however, having deliberately shut 
 and bolted it, he sat himself down in the chair which I had 
 previously occupied, with a countenance nearly as full of hor- 
 ror as that of Davy Lander himself. 
 
 I was now totally bewildered ; and, scarce knowing what to 
 do, was about to throw a jug of water over my friend, to revive 
 
LANEGAN S MYSTERIOUS REAPPEARANCE. 75 
 
 him, if possible, when the stranger, in a harsh, croaking voice, 
 cried — 
 
 " For the love of God, give me some of that — for I am per- 
 ishing !" 
 
 I accordingly did so, and he took the jug and drank immod- 
 erately. 
 
 My friend Davy now ventured to look up a little, and per- 
 ceiving that I was becoming so familiar with the goblin, his 
 courage somewhat revived, but still his speech was difficult. 
 He stammered, and gazed at the figure for some time, but at 
 length made up his mind that it was tangible and mortal. The 
 effect of this decision on the face of Davy was as ludicrous as 
 the fright had been. He seemed quite ashamed of his former 
 terror, and affected to be stout as a lion ! — though it was visi- 
 ble that he was not yet at his ease. He now roared out in the 
 broad, cursing, Kerry dialect : " Why, then, blood and thun- 
 der ! is that you, Lanegan V 
 
 "Ah, sir, speak easy !" said the wretched being. 
 
 " How the devil," resumed Davy, " did you get your four 
 quarters stitched together again, after the hangman cut them 
 off of you at Stephen's Green?" 
 
 " Ah, gentlemen !" exclaimed the poor culprit, " speak low ! 
 Have mercy on me, Master Davy — you know it was I taught 
 you your Latin. I'm starving to death !" 
 
 " You shall not die in that way, you villanous schoolmaster !" 
 said Davy, pushing toward him a loaf of bread and a bottle of 
 wine that stood on the table. 
 
 The miserable creature having ate the bread with avidity, 
 and drunk two or three glasses of wine, the lamp of life once 
 more seemed to brighten up. After a pause, he communicated 
 every circumstance relating to his sudden appearance before 
 us. He confessed having bought the arsenic at the desire of 
 Mrs. O'Flaherty, and that he was aware of the application of 
 it, but solemnly protested that it was she who had seduced 
 him. He then proceeded to inform us that, after having been 
 duly hanged, the sheriff had delivered his body to his mother, 
 but not until the executioner had given a cut on each limb, to 
 save the law — which cuts bled profusely, and were probably 
 
76 MUKDKR OF CAPTAIN o'fLAHKRTY. 
 
 the means of preserving his life. His mother conceived that 
 the vital spark was not extinct, and therefore had put him into 
 bed, dressed his wounded limbs, and nibbed his neck with hot 
 vinegar, Having steadily pursued this process, and accompa- 
 nied it by pouring warm brandy-and-water down his throat, in 
 the course of an hour he was quite sensible, but experienced 
 horrid pains for several weeks before his final recovery. His 
 mother filled the coffin he was brought home in with bricks, 
 and got some men to bury it the same night in Kilmainham 
 burial-ground, as if ashamed to inter him in open day. For a 
 long time he was unable to depart, being every moment in 
 dread of discovery. At length, however, he got off by night 
 in a smuggling-boat, which landed him on the isle of Man ; 
 and thence he contrived to reach London, bearing a letter 
 from a priest at Kerry to another priest who had lived in the 
 borough, the purport of which was to get him admitted into a 
 monastery in France. But he found the Southwark priest was 
 dead ; and, though he possessed some money, he was afraid 
 even to buy food, for fear of detection ! — but recollecting that 
 Mr. Lander, his old scholar, lived somewhere in the Temple, he 
 got directed by a porter to the lodging. 
 
 My friend Davy, though he did not half like it, suffered this 
 poor devil to sit in the chamber till the following evening. He 
 then procured him a place in the night-coach to Rye, whence 
 he got to St. Vallery, and was received (as I afterward learned 
 from a very grateful letter which he sent to Lander) into the 
 monastery of La Trappe, near Abbeville, where he lived in 
 strict seclusion, and died some years since. 
 
 This incident is not related as a mere isolated anecdote, un- 
 connected with any serious general considerations ; but rather 
 with a view to show how many deceptions a man's imagination 
 may hastily subject him to, and to impress the consideration 
 that nothing should be regarded as supernatural which can by 
 possibility be the result of human interference. 
 
 In the present case, if Lanegan had withdrawn before Lan- 
 der had arisen and spoken to him, no reasoning upon earth 
 could have ever convinced the templar of the materiality of 
 the vision. As Lanegan's restoration to life after execution 
 
A CHURCH -YAUD ANECDOTE. — TT 
 
 had not at that time been spoken of, nor even suspected, Lan- 
 der would have willingly deposed, upon the Holy Evangelists, 
 that he had seen the actual gliost of the schoolmaster who had 
 been hanged and quartered in Dublin a considerable time be- 
 fore ; his identification of the man's person being rendered un- 
 equivocal from the circumstance of his having been formerly 
 Lanegan's pupil. And I must confess that I should myself 
 have seen no reason to doubt Lander's assertions had the man 
 withdrawn from the chamber before he spoke to me — to do 
 which, under the circumstances, it was by no means improbable 
 fear might have induced him. 
 
 Thus one of the " best-authenticated ghost-stories ever re- 
 lated" has been lost to the history of supernatural occurrences. 
 The circumstance, however, did not cure Davy Lander in the 
 least of his dread of apparitions, which was excessive. 
 
 Nor have I much right to reproach my friend's weakness in 
 this particular. I have, on the other hand, throughout my 
 writings admitted — nay, I fear, occasionally boasted — that I 
 was myself superstitious. The species of reading I adopted 
 and ardently pursued from my infancy upward may, I admit, 
 have impressed my mind indelibly ; and the consciousness of 
 this fact should have served to render me rather skeptical than 
 credulous upon any subject that bore a mysterious character. 
 
 My relations, while I was a boy, took it into their heads that 
 I was a decided coward in this way, which, though I in round 
 terms denied, I freely admitted at the same time my coyness 
 with regard to trying any unnecessary experiments or making 
 any superstitious invocations, particularly on Allhallow-eve, or 
 other mysterious days, whereupon a sort of bastard witchcraft 
 is always practiced in Ireland. 
 
 Hence I was universally ridiculed on those anniversaries for 
 my timidity ; and one Allhallow-eve, my father proposed to 
 have a prayer-book, with a five-pound bank-note in it, left on 
 a certain tombstone in an old catholic burial-ground, quite 
 apart from any road, and covered with trees. It was two or 
 three fields' distance from the dwelling-house ; and the propo- 
 sal was, that if I would go there at twelve o'clock at night, and 
 bring back the book and a dead man's bone, many of which 
 
78 MURDER OF CAPTAIN O FLAHERTY. 
 
 latter were scattered about the cemetery, the note should be 
 mine ; and, as an additional encouragement, I was never after 
 to be charged with cowardice. My pride took fire, and I de- 
 termined, even though I might burst a blood-vessel through 
 agitation, or break my neck in running home again, I would 
 perforin the feat, and put an end to the imputation. 
 
 The matter therefore was fully arranged. The night proved 
 very dark ; the path was intricate, but I was accustomed to it. 
 There were two or three stiles to be crossed; and the Irish 
 always conceive that if a ghost is anywhere in the neighbor- 
 hood, he invariably chooses a stile at which to waylay the pas- 
 sengers. 
 
 However, at the appointed hour I set out. I dare say most 
 ladies and gentlemen who may read this know what palpita- 
 tion of the heart means ; if so, let them be sfl good as to fancy 
 an excess of that feeling, and they may then form some idea 
 of the sensations with which I first touched the cold grave- 
 stones of the dead, who, if they had possessed any spirit, would 
 have arisen en masse, to defend their bones from being made 
 the subject of ridiculous experiment. 
 
 Having groped for some time in the dark, I found the book, 
 but my hand refused to lift it, and I sat down, panting and 
 starting at every rustle of the foliage. Through the gloom 
 wherewith the trunks and branches of the trees were invested, 
 my excited imagination conjured up figures and shapes which 
 I expected, at every glance, would open into skeletons or 
 shrouded spectres ! I would, at that moment, have given the 
 world to be at home again ! — but I really could not stir : my 
 breath had got too short, and my eyesight too confused, for 
 motion. 
 
 By degrees these sensations subsided. I obtained a little 
 confidence ; the moving of a branch no longer started me, and 
 I should have got on well enough had not an unlucky goat, 
 which came roaming near the place, though with a different 
 object, thrown me into a complete relapse. At the conclusion 
 of about half an hour, however, which appeared to me at least 
 five-and-twenty years, I secured the book snugly in my pocket, 
 together with a dead man's thigh-bone, which I tied up in a 
 
UNWISE BOASTING A. PRACTICAL JOKE. 79 
 
 cloth brought with me for the purpose ; and, fastening it round 
 my waist, lest it should drop during my flight, I made a very 
 rapid exit from this scene of perilous achievement. 
 
 Having reached the house in triumph, and taken a large 
 tumbler of wine, I proceeded to exhibit my book, put the bank- 
 note in my pocket, and, with an affectation of unconcern, untied 
 my cloth and flung my huge bone upon the supper-table. I 
 had my full revenge ! The women, who had been amusing 
 themselves by telling each other's fortunes, were cruelly 
 shocked : they all, una voce, set up a loud shriek, and while 
 some were half-swooning, others ran headlong out of the room. 
 My courage now grew rampant : I said, if they pleased, they 
 might leave the bone on the top of my bed till morning, and 
 that would sufficiently show who was most in dread of dead 
 people ! 
 
 Confidence was at length restored on all sides. I was half- 
 cured of my superstitious fears, and the family universally ad- 
 mitted that I certainly should make a brave general if I went 
 into the army. We made merry till a late hour, when I retired 
 joyously to bed, and sleep very soon began to make still further 
 amends for my terrors. 
 
 While dreaming away most agreeably, I was suddenly 
 aroused by a rustling noise for which I could not account. I 
 sat up, and upon listening, found it to proceed from the top of 
 my bed, whereon something was in rapid motion. The dead 
 man's thigh bone immediately started into my recollection, 
 and horrible ideas flashed across my mind. A profuse perspi- 
 ration burst out at once on my forehead, my hair rose, the 
 cramp seized both my legs, and just gathering power to call 
 out, "Murder, murder! — help, help !" I buried my head under 
 the clothes. In this situation I could neither hear nor see, 
 and was besides almost suffocated. After a while, I began to 
 think I might have been dreaming, and with that idea, thrust- 
 ing my head fearfully out, the bone (for that it certainly Avas) 
 sprang with a tremendous crash from the bed down beside me 
 upon the floor, where it exhibited as many signs of life as 
 when its owner was in existence. Upon viewing this, my spirits 
 sank again, I shook like a man in the ague, gave some inartic- 
 
80 ADOPTION OF THE LAW. 
 
 ulate screams, and at length dropped back, nearly senseless, 
 upon the pillow. 
 
 How long I lay thus I know not. I only remember that the 
 bone still continued its movements, and, now-and-then striking 
 a chair or table, warned me of my probable fate from its justly- 
 enraged proprietor, who, I was apprehensive, would soon appear 
 to demand his undoubted property. Had the scene continued 
 long, I actually believe I should scarce have survived it ; but, 
 at last, paradise seemed all on the sudden to be regained, 
 though in no very orthodox way. A loud laugh at the door 
 clearly announced that I had been well played off upon by the 
 ladies for my abrupt display of a dead man's bone on a supper- 
 table. The whole of the young folks entered my room in a 
 body, with candles ; and after having been reassured, and 
 nourished by a tumbler of bettered white wine, I obtained by 
 degrees knowledge of the trick which had occasioned a laugh 
 so loud, so long, and so mortifying to my self-conceit. 
 
 The device was simple enough : a couple of cords had been 
 tied to the bone, and drawn under the door, which was at the 
 bed's foot ; and by pulling these alternately, the conspirators 
 kept the bone in motion, until their good-humored joke had 
 well nigh resulted in the loss of their kinsman's reason. 
 
 ADOPTION OF THE LAW. 
 
 Marriage of my Eldest Brother — The Bride's-Maid, Miss D. W. — Female Attractions not 
 dependent on Personal Beauty — Mutual Attachment — Illustration of the French Phrase 
 " Je ne sals quoi" — Betrothal of the Author, and his Departure for Londun, to study 
 for the Bar. 
 
 , My father still conceived that the military profession was 
 best suited to my ardent and volatile spirit. I was myself, 
 however, of a different opinion ; and fortune shortly fixed my 
 determination. An incident occurred, which, uniting passion, 
 judgment, and ambition, led me to decide that the bar was the 
 only road to my happiness or celebrity ; and accordingly I 
 
FEMALE BEAUTY EXPRESSION. 81 
 
 finally and irrevocably resolved that the law should be the 
 future occupation of my life and studies. 
 
 The recollection of the incident to which I have alluded, 
 excites, even at this moment, all the sensibility and regret 
 which can survive a grand climacteric, and four-and-forty 
 years of vicissitude. I shall not dilate upon it extensively; 
 and, in truth, were it not that these personal fragments would 
 be otherwise still more incomplete, I should remain altogether 
 silent on a subject which revives in my mind so many painful 
 reflections. 
 
 My elder brother married the only daughter of Mr. Edwards, 
 of Old Court, County Wicklow. The individuals of both fami- 
 lies attended that marriage, which was indeed a public one. 
 The bride's-maid of Miss Edwards was the then admired Miss 
 D. W. This lady was about my own age : her father had been 
 a senior fellow of Dublin university, and had retired on large 
 church preferments. Her uncle, with whom she was at that 
 time residing, was a very eminent barrister in the Irish capital. 
 She had but one sister, and I was soon brought to think she had 
 no equal whatever. 
 
 Those who read this will, perhaps, anticipate a story of a 
 volatile lad struck, in the midst of an inspiring ceremony, by 
 the beauty of a lively and engaging female, and surrendering 
 without resistance his boyish heart to the wild impulse of the 
 moment. This supposition is, I admit, a natural one ; but it is 
 unfounded. Neither beauty, nor giddy passion, nor the glare 
 of studied attractions, ever enveloped me in their labyrinths. 
 Nobody admired female loveliness more than myself; but 
 beauty in the abstract never excited within me that delirium 
 which has so impartially made fools of kings and beggars — of 
 heroes and cowards ; and to which the wisest professors of law, 
 physic, and divinity, have from time immemorial surrendered 
 their liberty, and their reason. 
 
 Regularity of feature is very distinct from expression of 
 countenance, which I never yet saw mere symmetry success- 
 fully rival. ' I thank Heaven, that I never was either the 
 captive or the victim of "perfect beauty;" in fact, I never 
 loved any handsome woman save one who still lives, and I 
 
 4* 
 
82 ADOPTION OF THE LAW. 
 
 hope will do so long : those whom I admired most (when I was 
 of an age to admire any), had no great reason to be grateful 
 for the munificence of creating Nature. 
 
 Were I to describe the person of D. W., I should say that 
 she had no beauty ; but, on the contrary, seemed rather to 
 have been selected as a foil to set off the almost transparent 
 delicacy of the bride whom she attended. Her figure was 
 graceful, it is true ; but, generally speaking, I incline to think 
 that few ladies would have envied her perfections. Her dark 
 and rather deep-sunk, yet penetrating and animated eye, could 
 never have reconciled their looking-glasses to the sombre and 
 swarthy complexion which surrounded it ; nor the carmine of 
 her pouting lip to the disproportioned extent of feature which 
 it tinted. In fine, as I began, so will I conclude my personal 
 description ; she had no beauty. But she seems this moment 
 before me as in a vision. I see her countenance, busied in 
 unceasing converse with her heart ; now illuminated by bril- 
 liant wit, now softened down by sense and sensibility — the 
 wild spirit of the former changing like magic into the steadier 
 movements of the latter ; the serious glance silently command- 
 ing restraint and caution, while the counteracting smile even 
 at the same moment set caution at defiance. But upon this 
 subject I shall desist, and only remark further, that before I 
 was aware of the commencement of its passion, my whole heart 
 was hers ! 
 
 D. W. was at that time the fashion in society : many admired, 
 but I know of none who loved her save myself, and it must have 
 been through some attractive congeniality of mind that our at- 
 tachment became mutual. 
 
 It will doubtless appear unaccountable to many, whence the 
 spell arose by virtue of which I was thus bound to a female, 
 from whom every personal attribute seems to have been with- 
 held by nature. But I am unable to solve the enigma. I once 
 ventured myself to ask D. W, if she could tell me why I loved 
 her? She answered by returning the question; and hence, 
 neither of us being able to give an explicit reason, we mutually 
 agreed that the query was unanswerable. 
 
 There are four short words in the French language which 
 
"jE NE SAIS QUOI. 83 
 
 have a power of expressing what in English is inexplicable — 
 " Je ne sais quoi" — and to these, in my dilemma, I resorted. 
 I do not wish the phrase to be understood in a sentimental vein; 
 or, in the set terms of young ladies, as " a nice expression !" 
 In my mind it is an amatory idiom ; and, in those few words, 
 conveys more meaning than could a hundred pages. 
 
 I have said that the phrase is inexplicable ; but, in like 
 manner, as we are taught to aim at perfection while we know 
 it to be unattainable, so will I. endeavor to characterize the 
 " Je ne sais quoi" as meaning a species of indefinable grace 
 which gives despotic power to a female. When we praise in 
 detail the abstract beauty or merits of a woman, each of them 
 may form matter for argument, or subject for' the exercise of 
 various tastes ; but of the "Je ne sais quoi" there is no specifi- 
 cation, and upon it there can be no reasoning. It is that 
 fascinating enigma which expresses all without expressing 
 anything ; that mysterious source of attraction which we can 
 neither discover nor account for ; and which nor beauty, nor 
 »wit, nor education, nor anything, in short, but nature, ever can 
 create. 
 
 D. W. was the fashion ; but she depended solely, as to for- 
 tune, on her father and her uncle. I was the third son of a 
 largely estated but not prudent family, and was entitled to a 
 younger child's portion in addition to some exclusive property ; 
 but I had passed twenty-one, and had not even fixed on a 
 profession — therefore, the only probable result of our attach- 
 ment seemed to be misery and disappointment. Notwith- 
 standing, when in the same neighborhood we met — when 
 separate we corresponded ; but her good sense at length per- 
 ceived that some end must be put to this state of clandestine 
 intercourse, from which, although equally condemning it, we 
 had not been able to abstain. Her father died, and she be- 
 came entitled to a third of his estate and effects ; but this 
 accession was insufficient to justify the accomplishment of our 
 union. I saw, and with a half-broken heart, acquiesced in her 
 view of its impossibility, until I should have acquired some 
 productive profession. She suggested that there was no other 
 course but the bar, which might conciliate her uncle. The 
 
84 A DUBLIN BOARDING-HOUSE. 
 
 hint was sufficient, and we then agreed to have a ceremony of 
 betrothal performed, and to separate the next moment, never 
 to meet again until fortune, if ever so disposed, should smile 
 upon us. 
 
 The ceremony was accordingly performed by a Mr. Tay, and 
 immediately afterward I went on board a packet for England, 
 determined, if it were possible, to succeed in a profession which 
 held out a reward so essential to my happiness. 
 
 I did succeed at the bar : but alas ! she for whose sake my 
 toil was pleasure had ceased to exist. I never saw her more ! 
 Her only sister still lives in Merrion square, Dublin, and in 
 her has centred all the property of both the father and 
 uncle. She is the wife of one of my warmest friends, a king's 
 counsel. 
 
 I hasten to quit a subject to me so distressing. Some very 
 peculiar circumstances attended, as I learned, the death of that 
 most excellent of women ; but a recital of those would only 
 increase the impression which I fear I have already given 
 grounds for, that I am deeply superstitious. However, I have 
 not concealed so important an incident of my life hitherto not 
 published, and I have done. 
 
 A DUBLIN BOARDING-HOUSE. 
 
 Sketch of the Company and Inmate- — Lord Mountmorris — Lieut. Gam Johnson, R. N. — 
 Sir John and Lady O'Flaherry — Mrs. Wheeler — Lady and Miss Barry — Memoir and 
 Character of Miss Barry, afterward Mrs. Baldwin — Ruinous Effects of a Dramatic Educa- 
 tion exemplified— Lord Mountmorris' Duel with the Honorable Francis Hely Hutchinson 
 at Donnybrook — His Lordship wounded — Marquis of Ely, his Second. 
 
 On my return to Dublin from London, before I could suit 
 myself with a residence to my satisfaction, I lodged at the 
 house of Mr. Kyle, in Frederick street, uncle to the present 
 provost of Dublin university. Mrs. Kyle was a remarkably 
 plain woman, of the most curious figure, being round as a ball ; 
 but she was as good as she was ordinary. This worthy crea- 
 ture, who was a gentlewoman by birth, had married Kyle, 
 
LOKD MOUNTMOKRIS LIEUT. GAM JOHNSON. 85 
 
 who, though of good family, had been a trooper. She had lived 
 many years, as companion, with my grandmother, and in fact 
 regarded me as if I had been her own child. 
 
 In her abode so many human curiosities were collected, and 
 so many anecdotes occurred, that, even at this distance of 
 time, the recollection of it amuses me. Those who lodged in 
 the house dined in company : the table was most plentifully 
 served, and the party generally comprised from eight to ten 
 select persons. I will endeavor to sketch the leading members 
 of the society there at the period of which I speak ; and first 
 on the list I will place the late Lord Mountmorris, of celebrated 
 memory. He was a very clever and well-informed, but eccen- 
 tric man ; one of the most ostentatious and at the same time 
 parsimonious beings in the world. He considered himself by 
 far the greatest orator and politician in Europe ; and it was he 
 who sent a florid speech, which he intended to have spoken in 
 the Irish house of lords, to the press : the debate on which it 
 was to be spoken did not ensue ; but his lordship having neg- 
 lected to countermand the publication, his studied harangue 
 appeared next day in the Dublin newspapers, with all the 
 supposititious cheerings, &c, duly interposed ! I believe a 
 similar faux yas has been committed by some English legis- 
 lator. 
 
 His lordship, at the period in question, was patronizing what 
 is commonly ycleped a led captain — one Lieutenant Ham or 
 Gam Johnson, of the royal navy, brother to the two judges and 
 the attorney of whom I shall speak hereafter. Without being 
 absolutely disgusting, Lieutenant Johnson was certainly the 
 ugliest man in Christendom. It was said of him that he need 
 never fire a shot, since his countenance was sufficient to frighten 
 the bravest enemy. His bloated visage, deeply indented by 
 that cruel ravager of all comeliness, the small-pox, was nearly 
 as large as the body that supported it, and that was by no 
 means diminutive. Yet the man was civil and mild, and had 
 withal a much higher character as an officer than his captain 
 in the Artois frigate, Lord Charles Fitzgerald, who, it was at 
 that time thought, preferred a sound nap to a hard battle. 
 
 Next in the company came Sir John O'Elaherty, Bart., and 
 
86 A DUBLIN BOARDING-HOUSE. 
 
 Lady 'Flaherty, his sposa. He was a plain, agreeable coun- 
 try-gentleman. Her ladyship was to the full as plain, hut not 
 quite so agreeable. However, it was (as Mrs. Kyle said) re- 
 spectable, at a boarding-house, to hear — " Sir John O'Flaher- 
 ty's health!"— and "Lady O'Flaherty's health !"— drank or 
 hobnobbed across the table. They formed, indeed, excellent 
 make-weights to cram in between Lord Mountmorris and the 
 canaille. 
 
 Lady Barry, widow of the late Sir Nathaniel Barry, Bart., 
 and mother of Sir Edward (who was also an occasional guest), 
 follows in my catalogue, and was as valuable a curiosity as any 
 of the set. 
 
 Mrs. Wheeler, the grandmother of Sir Richard Jonah Denny 
 Wheeler Cuffe, gave up her whole attention to lapdogs ; and 
 neither she nor the last-mentioned dowager were by any means 
 averse to the fermented grape — though we never saw either of 
 them " very far gone." 
 
 Lady Barry's only daughter, afterward the unfortunate Mrs. 
 Baldwin, was also of the party. Though this young female 
 had not a beautiful face, it was yet peculiarly pleasing, and 
 she certainly possessed one of the finest figures — tall, and 
 slender in its proportions, and exquisitely graceful — I had 
 ever seen. Her father, Sir Nathaniel Barry, many years the 
 principal physician of Dublin, adored his daughter, and had 
 spared no pains nor expense on her education. She profited 
 by all the instruction she received, and was one of the most 
 accomplished young women of her day. But unfortunately 
 he had introduced her to the practice of one very objection- 
 able accomplishment — calculated rather to give unbounded 
 latitude to, than check, the light and dangerous particles of 
 a volatile and thoughtless disposition. He was himself enthu- 
 siastically fond of theatricals, and had fitted up a theatre in the 
 upper story of his own house. There the youthful mind of his 
 hitherto untainted daughter was first initiated into all the 
 schemes, the passions, the arts, and the deceptions, of lovers 
 and of libertines ! — the close mimicry of which forms the very 
 essence of dramatic perfection. At sixteen, with all the 
 warmth of a sensitive constitution, she was taught to personify 
 
MISS BARRY HER CHARACTER. 87 
 
 the vices, affect the passions, and assume the frivolities, of her 
 giddy sex ! 
 
 Thus, through the folly or vanity of her father, she wasled 
 to represent by turns the flirt, the jilt, the silly wife, the capri- 
 cious mistress, and the frail maiden — before her understanding 
 had arrived at sufficient maturity, or his more serious instruc- 
 tions had made sufficient impression, to enable her to resist 
 voluptuous sensations. She had not penetration enough (how 
 could she have 1) to perceive that a moral may be extracted 
 from almost every crime, and that a bad example may some- 
 times be more preservative against error (from exhibiting its 
 ruinous consequences) even than a good one. She was too 
 young and too unsteady to make these subtile distinctions. She 
 saw the world's pleasure dancing gayly before her, and pursued 
 the vision — until her mimicry at length became nature, and her 
 personification identity. / After two or three years, during which' 
 this mistaken course was pursued, Sir Nathaniel died, leaving 
 his daughter in possession of all the powers of attraction with- 
 out the guard of prudence. In the dance — in declamation — 
 in music — in the languages — she excelled : but in those steady 
 and solid qualities which adapt women for wedlock and do- 
 mesticity, she was altogether deficient. Her short-sighted 
 father had been weak enough to deck her with the gaudy 
 qualification of an actress at the expense of all those more 
 estimable acquirements which her mind and her genius were 
 equally susceptible of attaining. 
 
 The misfortunes which ensued should therefore be attributed 
 rather to the folly of the parent than to the propensities of the 
 child. Her heart, once sunk into the vortex of thoughtless va- 
 riety and folly, her mother was unable to restrain its downward 
 progress ; and, as to her weak, dissipated brother, Sir Edward, 
 I have myself seen him, late at night, require her to come from 
 her chamber to sing, or play, or spout, for the amusement of 
 his inebriated companions — conduct which the mother had not 
 sufficient sense nor resolution to control. However, good for- 
 tune still gave Miss Barry a fair chance of rescuing herself, 
 and securing complete comfort and high respectability. She 
 married well, being united to Colonel Baldwin, a gentleman 
 
88 A DUBLIN BOARDING-HOUSE. 
 
 of character and fortune : but alas ! that delicacy of mind 
 (which is the best guardian of female conduct had been irre- 
 coverably lost by her pernicious education, and in a few years 
 she sank beyond the possibility of regaining her station in 
 society. 
 
 Long after the period of her unhappy fall, I saw Mrs. Bald- 
 win, at the house of a friend of mine, into which she had been 
 received, under an assumed name, as governess. This effort 
 on her part could not be blamed, on the contrary, it was most 
 commendable ; and it would have been both cruel and unjust, 
 by discovering her, to have thwarted it. Though many years 
 had elapsed, and her person had meanwhile undergone total 
 alteration — her size being doubled, and her features grown 
 coarse and common — I instantly recognised her as one whom 
 I had known long before, but whose name I could not recol- 
 lect. I had tact enough to perceive that she courted con- 
 cealment, and in consequence, I carefully abstained from any 
 pointed observation. The mother of the children subsequently 
 told me that her governess was an admirable musician, and 
 took me to the door of her room to hear her play. She was 
 sitting alone at the piano. I listened with an anxiety I can 
 not describe nor indeed scarcely account for. She sang not 
 with superiority, but in plaintive tones, which I was confident 
 I had heard before, yet could not remember where — when an 
 air which, from a very peculiar cause, had in early days im- 
 pressed itself indelibly on my memory, brought Miss Barry at 
 once to my recollection. Her image swam into my mind as 
 she appeared when youth, grace, innocence, and accomplish- 
 ments, made her a just subject for general admiration, and had 
 particularly attracted a friend of mine, Mr. Vicars, the brother 
 of Mrs. Peter Latouche, who loved her to distraction. 
 
 Her secret I kept inviolably ; but some person, I believe, was 
 afterward less considerate, and she was discovered. Had I 
 supposed it possible she could have then enfeebled the morals 
 or injured the habits of my friend's children, I should myself 
 have privately given her a hint to change her situation ; but I 
 never should have betrayed the poor creature. However, I 
 conceived her at that time to be trustworthy in the execution 
 
A PROSPECTIVE DUEL. 89 
 
 of the duties she had undertaken. She had suffered amply. 
 Her own daughter resided with her, and scarcely ever left her 
 side. No longer a suhject for the irregular passions, she had 
 just lived long enough, and felt keenly enough, to render her 
 follies a warning for her later years, and even to cause her to 
 entertain disgust for those errors which had led her to destruc- 
 tion : and I then believed, nor have I now any reason to ques- 
 tion the solidity of my judgment, that she was on the direct 
 road to prudence and good conduct. 
 
 I have related these events, as I confess myself to be an 
 avowed enemy to a dramatic education. That sexual famil- 
 iarity which is indispensable upon the stage undermines, and 
 is, in my opinion, utterly inconsistent with, the delicacy of 
 sentiment, the refinement of thought, and reserve of action, 
 which constitute at once the surest guards and the most pre- 
 cious ornaments of female character. Strong minds and dis- 
 criminating understanding may occasionally escape ; but what 
 a vast majority of Thalia's daughters fall victims to the prac- 
 tices of their own calling ! 
 
 But let us return to Kyle's boarding-house. The different 
 pursuits adopted by these curious members of the society as- 
 sembled there were to me subjects of constant entertainment. 
 I stood well with all parties. 
 
 One day, after dinner, Lord Mountmorris seemed rather less 
 communicative than usual, but not less cheerful. He took out 
 his watch ; made a speech, as customary ; drank his tipple (as 
 he denominated the brandy-and-water) ; but seemed rather 
 impatient. At length, a loud rap announced somebody of -con- 
 sequence, and the marquis of Ely was named. 
 
 Lord Mountmorris rose with his usual ceremony, made a 
 very low bow to the company, looked again at his watch, re- 
 peated his conge, and made his exit. He entered the coach 
 where Lord Ely was Avaiting, and away they drove. Kyle (a 
 most curious man) instantly decided that a duel was in agita- 
 tion, and turned pale at the dread of losing so good a lodger. 
 Lieutenant Gam Johnson was of the same opinion, and equally 
 distressed by the fear of losing his lordship's interest for a 
 frigate. Each snatched up his beaver, and with the utmost 
 
90 A DUBLTN BOArcmNG-IIOUSK. 
 
 expedition pursued the coach. I was also rather desirous to 
 see the fun as Gam (though with a sigh !) called it; and made 
 the best of my way after the two mourners — not, however, 
 hurrying myself so much — as, while they kept the coach in 
 view, I was contented with keeping them within sight. Our 
 pursuit exceeded a mile, when in the distance I peceived that 
 the coach had stopped at Donnybrook-fair green, where, on 
 every eighth of June, many an eye seems to mourn for the 
 broken skull that had protected it from expulsion. I took my 
 time, as I was now sure of my game, and had just reached the 
 field when I heard the firing. I then ran behind a large tree, 
 to observe further. 
 
 Gam and Kyle had flown toward the spot, and nearly tum- 
 bled over my lord, who had received a bullet from the Hon. 
 Francis Hely Hutchinson, (late collector for Dublin), on the 
 right side, directly under his lordship's pistol-arm. The peer 
 had staggered and measured his length on the greensward, and 
 I certainly thought it was all over with him. I stood snugly 
 all the while behind my tree, not wishing to have anything to 
 do at the coroner's inquest, which I considered as inevitable. 
 To my astonishment, however, I saw my lord arise ! and, after 
 some colloquy, the combatants bowed to each other and sepa- 
 ted. My lord got back to his coach, with aid, and reached 
 Frederick street, if not in quite as good health, certainly with 
 as high a character for bravery, as when he had left it. In 
 fact, never did any person enjoy a wound more sincerely ! He 
 kept his chamber a month, and was inconceivably gratified by 
 the number of inquiries daily made respecting his health — 
 boasting ever after of the profusion of friends who thus proved 
 their solicitude. His answer from first to last was, " No bet- 
 ter." To- speak truth, one half of the querists were sent in 
 jest by those whom his singularity diverted. 
 
CHANGE OF MANNERS. 91 
 
 IRISH BEAUTIES. 
 
 Strictures on Change of Manners — Moral Influence of Dress — The Three Beauties — Curious 
 
 Trial respecting Lady M ; Termination favorable to her Ladyship — Interesting and 
 
 Affecting Incidents of that Lady's Life — Sir R M , his Character and Cruelty 
 
 — Lady M married against her Will — Quits her Husband — Returns — Sir R. mis- 
 takes her For a Rebel in his Sleep, and nearly strangles her. 
 
 It is singular enough, but at the same time true, that female 
 beauty has of late years kept pace in improvement with mod- 
 ern accomplishments. She who in the early part of my life 
 would have been accounted a perfect beauty, whose touch upon 
 a harpsichord or spinnet, accompanied by a simple air, sung 
 with that they then called "judgment" (in tune), would have 
 constituted her at once a Venus and a siren, would now be 
 passed by merely as a " pretty girl, but such a confounded bore 
 with her music !" In fact women fifty years since (and much 
 later) not being, generally speaking, thrust into society till they 
 had arrived at the ag^of maturity, were more respected, more 
 beloved, and more sedulously attended than in these days, when 
 the men seem to have usurped the ladies' corsets, to affect 
 their voices, practise their gait, imitate their small-talk, and in 
 surtouts and trowsers, hustle ladies off the footpaths, to save 
 their own dog-skins from humidity. 
 
 This degradation of both sexes has arisen from various causes. 
 Beauty has apparently become less rare, accomplishments more 
 common, dress less distinguished, dignity worse preserved, and 
 decorum less attended to, than in former times. It is a great 
 mistake in women not to recollect their own importance, and 
 keep up that just medium between reserve and familiarity 
 which constitutes the best criterion whereby to appreciate the 
 manners of a gentlewoman. But women are too apt to run into: 
 extremes in everything ; and overlook the fact that neither per-j 
 sonal beauty nor drawing-room display are calculated to form 
 permanent attractions, even to the most adoring lover. The 
 breakfast-table in the morning, and fireside in the evening, must 
 be the ultimate touchstones of connubial comfort ; and this is a 
 
92 IRISH BEAUTIES. 
 
 maxim which any woman who intends to marry should never 
 lose sight of. 
 
 To such lengths did respect for the sex extend, and so 
 I strong was the impression that men were bound to protect it 
 even from accidental offence, that I remember, if any gentle- 
 man presumed to pass between a lady and the wall in walking 
 the streets of Dublin, he was considered as offering a personal 
 affront to her escort ; and if the parties wore swords (as was 
 then customary) it is probable the first salutation to the offender 
 would be, " Draw, sir !" However, such affairs usually ended in 
 an apology to the lady for inadvertence. 
 
 But if a man ventured to intrude into the boxes of the thea- 
 tre in his surtout, or boots, or with his hat on, it was regarded 
 as a general insult to every lady present, and he had little 
 chance of escaping without a shot or a thrust before the fol- 
 lowing night. Every gentleman then wore, in the evening, 
 a sword, a queue, and a three-cocked hat, appointments rath- 
 er too fierce-looking for the modern dandy ! while the morn- 
 ing-dress consisted of what was then called a French frock, 
 a waistcoast bordered with lace, and a^outeau de chasse, with 
 a short, curved, broad blade, the handle of green ivory, with 
 a lion's head in silver or gilt at the end, and a treble chain 
 dangling loose from its mouth, terminating at an ornamental 
 cross or guard, which surmounted the scabbard. Such was the 
 Irish costume : but although either the male or female attire of 
 that day might now appear rather grotesque, yet people of 
 fashion had then the exclusive dress and air of such, and gentle- 
 women rail no risk of being copied in garb or manner by their 
 pretty waiting-maids, now called " young persons !" 
 
 The Irish court at that period was kept up with great state, 
 and hence the parties who frequented it were more select. I 
 recollect when the wives and daughters of attorneys (who now 
 I believe are the general occupiers of the red benches), were 
 never admitted to the vice-regal drawing-rooms. How far the 
 present growing system of equality in appearance among dif- 
 ferent ranks will eventually benefit or injure society in general, 
 is for casuists, not for me, to determine. I must, however, take 
 occasion to own myself an admirer, and (whenever it is proper) 
 
MORAL INFLUENCE OF DRESS. 93 
 
 a zealous contender for distinction of ranks ; and to state my 
 decided opinion, that nothing but superior talents, learning, 
 military reputation, or some other quality which raises men by 
 general assent, should be permitted to amalgamate society. 
 
 It is an observation I have always made (although it may 
 be perhaps considered a frivolous one), that dress has a moral 
 effect upon the conduct of mankind. Let any gentleman find 
 himself with dirty boots, old surtout, soiled neck-cloth, and a 
 general negligence of dress, he will, in all probability, find a 
 corresponding disposition to negligence of address. He may, 
 en deshabille, curse and swear, and speak roughly and think 
 roughly : but put the same man into full dress ; powder him well, 
 clap a sword by his side, and give him an evening coat, 
 breeches, and silk stockings, he will feel himself quite another 
 person ! To use the language of the blackguard would then 
 be out of character : he will talk smoothly, affect politeness, if 
 he has it not, pique himself upon good manners, and respect the 
 women ; nor will the spell subside until, returning home, the old 
 robe-de-chambre (or its substitute surtout), with other slovenly 
 appendages, make him lose again his brief consciousness of being 
 a gentleman ! 
 
 Some women mistake the very nature and purposes of dress ; 
 glaring abroad, they are slatterns at home. The husband de- 
 tests in his sposa what he is too apt to practise himself ; he 
 rates a dirty wife, she retorts upon a ruffianly husband, and each 
 of them detests the other for neglect which neither will take the 
 trouble of avoiding. 
 
 Three ladies, about the period of my return from London, 
 became very conspicuous for their beauty, though extremely 
 different in all points of both appearance and manners. They 
 still live : two of them I greatly admire, not for beauty 
 alone, but for an address the most captivating ; and one of 
 these especially, for the kindest heart and the soundest sense, 
 when she gave it fair play, that I have ever met with among 
 females. 
 
 In admitting my great preference to this individual lady, I 
 may, perhaps, by those who know her, be accused of partiality, 
 less to herself than to a family ; be it so ! she is the wife of \ 
 
94 IRISH BEAUTIES. 
 
 my friend, and I esteem her for his sake, but she is also an 
 excellent woman, and I esteem her for her own. 
 
 Another of the parties alluded to, Lady M , is a gentle- 
 woman of high birth, and was then, though not quite a beauty, 
 in all points attractive. She passed her spring in misfortune 
 — her summer in miseiy — her autumn without happiness! but 
 I hope the winter of her days is spent amidst every comfort. 
 Of the third lady I have not yet spoken : though far inferior to 
 both the former, she has succeeded better in life than either ; 
 and, beginning the world without any pretensions beyond medi- 
 ocrity, is likely to end her days in ease and more than ordinary 
 respectability. 
 
 My first knowledge of Lady M arose from a circum- 
 stance which was to me of singular professional advantage ; and, 
 as it forms a curious anecdote respecting myself, I will proceed 
 to relate it. 
 
 At the assizes of Wexford while I was but young at the bar, 
 
 I received a brief in a cause of Sir R M , Bart., against 
 
 a Mr. H . On perusal, I found it was an action brought by 
 
 the baronet against the latter gentleman respecting his lady, 
 and that I was retained as advocate for the lady's honor. It 
 was my "first appearance" in that town. But alas! I had a 
 senior in the business ; and therefore was without opportunity 
 of displaying my abilities. The ill-fated Bagenal Harvey* was 
 that senior counsel, and he had prepared himself to make some 
 exhibition in a cause of so much and such universal excitement. 
 I felt dispirited, and would willingly have given up twenty fees 
 in order to possess his opportunity. 
 
 The cause proceeded before Judge Kelly : the evidence was 
 finished, and the proper time for the defence had arrived ; 
 everything as to the lady was at stake. Bagenal Harvey had 
 gone out to take fresh air, and probably to read over some 
 notes, or con some florid sentences and quotations with which he 
 intended to interlard his elocution. At the moment the evi- 
 dence closed, the judge desired me to proceed ; I replied, that 
 Mr. Harvey, my senior, would return into court directly. 
 
 * An unfortunate friend of mine who was afterward hanged and his head 
 stuck over the door of the same courthouse. 
 
AN IMPROMPTU SPEECH. 95 
 
 Judge Kelly, who was my friend, and clearly saw my wish, 
 said lie would not delay public business one minute for any- 
 body ; and, by a sort of instinct, or rather impulse — I can not 
 indeed exactly say what it was — but certainly it was totally 
 impromptu — I began to state her ladyship's case. I always 
 had words enough at command; the evidence afforded suffi- 
 cient material for their exercise ; and, in fact, being roused by 
 the cause into a sort of "knight-errantry, I felt myself completely 
 identified with it. If I should succeed, it would greatly serve 
 me. 
 
 I forgot poor Bagenal Harvey, and was just getting into 
 the marrow and pathos of my case, when the crier shouted out, 
 "Clear the way for Counsellor Harvey!" Bagenal came in, 
 puffing and blowing, and struggling through the crowd — 
 scarcely a'ble to command utterance. I instantly stopped, and 
 begged his pardon, adding that the judge had said the public 
 time could wait for nobody ! " So," continued I " let me just 
 show you where I left off!" (turning over the leaves of my 
 brief). "There, begin there — it will be useless to repeat 
 what I have already said, so begin there." A loud laugh suc- 
 ceeded. 
 
 Bagenal became irritated as much as he was susceptible of 
 being, and whispered me that he considered it as a personal 
 insult : while old Judge Kelly gravely said, " Go on, Mr. Bar- 
 rington, go on ! we can have no speeches by dividends ; go on, 
 sir!" So on I went, and I believe (because everybody told 
 me so) that my impromptu speech was entirely successful. I 
 discredited the witnesses by ridicule, destroyed all sympathy 
 with the husband, and interested everybody for the wife. In 
 short I got the judge and jury into good humor. Yet, I know 
 not by what means I should have insured a verdict, had not a 
 certain point of law, which I believe was then started for the 
 first time, occurred to me ; and which, though rational in itself, 
 and on that trial recognised by the judge, has since been over- 
 ruled in terms, though it stands in substance; — namely, if a 
 husband can not truly aver, that he has sustained mental injury 
 by the loss of that comfort arising from the society of a wife, it 
 is anomalous to say he has any claim to damages ; and this 
 
96 IRISH BEAUTIES. 
 
 averment can scarcely be made where the parties have been 
 separated voluntarily and completely for years.* 
 
 The judge, the kindest-hearted man living, chuckled at this 
 new point. The jury, who did not much admire the plaintiff, 
 were quite pleased with my suggestion ; and after the judge 
 had given his charge, in a feAv minutes, to the utter discomfi- 
 ture of the baronet, there was a verdict against him ! His lips 
 quivered ; he stood pale and trembling with anger ; and subse- 
 quently quitted the town with the utmost expedition. 
 
 Some time afterward, a reconciliation took place between 
 the parties, so far that her ladyship consented to live with him 
 again : influenced much, I rather think, by having suffered 
 great inconvenience, if not distress, from want of regularity in 
 the receipt of her separate maintenance of 700/. per annum. I 
 had the pleasure of meeting her frequently at the lad^ lieuten- 
 ant's parties. 
 
 The conclusion of the renewed intercourse is too curious to 
 
 be omitted. Sir R had taken a house in the city of Dublin ; 
 
 and it was thought possible that he and his wife might, at any 
 rate, pass some time under the same roof; but fate decided 
 otherwise. 
 
 Sir R was literally insane on all political subjects, his 
 
 imagination being occupied night and day, with nothing but 
 
 I papists, Jesuits, and rebels. Once in. the dead of the night his 
 
 lady was awakened by a sense of positive suffocation, and 
 
 rousing herself, found that Sir R was in the very act of 
 
 strangling her! — he had grasped her by the throat with all 
 his might, and muttering heavy imprecations, had nearly suc- 
 ceeded in his diabolical attempt. She struggled, and at length 
 extricated herself from his grasp, upon which he roared out, 
 .'making a fresh effort — "You infernal papist rebel! you united 
 Irishman ! I '11 never part from you alive, if you don't come 
 quietly." 
 
 * This is, indeed, altogether a species of action maintained in no country 
 but England (a money country). Why not transfer the offence to the crim- 
 inal side of the courts of justice? All the rest of Europe ridicules our 
 system. The idea entertained on the continent upon 6uch occasions is si- 
 lence or death! — if not the most lucrative, certainly the most honorable 
 mode of procedure. 
 
EXCESS OF LOYALTY. 97 
 
 In fact this crazy Orange-man had in his dream fancied 
 that he was contesting with a rebel, whom he had better choke 
 than suffer to escape, and poor Lady M was nearly sacri- 
 ficed to his excess of loyalty. In her robe-d'e-chambre and 
 slippers she contrived to get out of the house, and never more 
 ventured to return, as she now clearly perceived that even 
 her personal safety could not be calculated on in her husband's 
 society. 
 
 I have in another work given a full character of Sir R 
 
 M , and stated my opinion of his worse than mischiev- 
 ous history of Ireland. One more anecdote of him, and I have 
 done. 
 
 While he was high sheriff for the county of Waterford, an 
 old man was sentenced to be whipped at the cart's tail for 
 some political offence ; when, the executioner not being in 
 readiness, the high sheriff, a baronet and member of parh'ament, 
 took up the cat-o'-nine-tails, ordered the cart to move on slowly, 
 and operated himself with admirable expertness, but much 
 greater severity than the hangman would have used. Thus 
 did he proceed to whip the old man through the streets of the 
 city ; and when the extreme point was reached, and he was 
 scarcely able to raise his arm, he publicly regretted he had not 
 a little farther to go ! 
 
 Lady M was, in her own right, entitled to a fortune of 
 
 15,000/., to be paid on her marriage. Her father, a gentleman 
 of rank and estate, had by some mismanagement become ex- 
 tremely embarrassed. Sir R M a man of family, but 
 
 whose fortune was not large, cast his eye on her beauty — not 
 totally overlooking her property. His taste was indisputably 
 good : the lady being, at that period, everything that could be 
 desired ! She possessed an ardent mind, great constitutional 
 gayety, and a sensitive heart ; to which were added a most en- 
 gaging figure and a lovely and expressive countenance. Her 
 father she loved dearly ; and for his unhappy circumstances 
 
 therefore, her heart bled ; but Sir R M could make 
 
 no impression upon it. On the contrary, he excited her aver- 
 sion. Thus her affections being unattainable, the baronet re- 
 solved if possible, to imrchase her hand, leaving her heart to 
 
 5 
 
98 IRISH BEAUTIES. 
 
 some future opportunity ! Hence commences the affecting narra- 
 tive of her ladyship's wrongs and misfortunes, related to me by 
 herself in broken fragments and at several times. 
 
 " I was not aware,'' said she " what caused my dear father's 
 obvious unhappiness, and often was I surprised at the perti- 
 nacity with which he pressed the baronet upon my considera- 
 tion. I rejected him over and over again ; still his suit was 
 renewed, still my father appeared more anxious on his behalf, 
 while my mother seconded their wishes. — My aversion in- 
 creased ; yet Sir It M 's assiduities were redoubled with 
 
 his repulses ; and at length I contemplated the leaving my fa- 
 ther's house, if I were longer persecuted by these addresses. 
 
 " Though young, I knew the failing of my own character, 
 V which possessed not sufficient resolution to oppose its constitu- 
 tional tendencies. Nature had formed me for all the pleasures 
 and the pains which are alike inseparable from sensibility. I 
 found a glow in every thought, an enthusiasm in every action. 
 My feelings were always in earnest. I could love to excess 
 and hate to rancor ! but I could do neither with mediocrity. 
 I could be the best or the worst of wives. I could endure 
 anything with a man I loved, but could not sit upon a throne 
 \ with one whom 1 might detest. 
 
 " At length I discovered the whole of my father's more than 
 
 pressing embarrassments ; and understood that Sir R M 
 
 had agreed to give up to him a considerable portion of my for- 
 tune, if our marriage was effected. This shock, to such a dis- 
 position as mine, was cruel ; and the dilemma was distracting, 
 since it involved my father's ruin, or my own ! 
 
 " Often, as we sat at our family repasts, have I perceived 
 that dear parent lay down the fork he was conveying to his 
 lips, and turn away to conceal the agitation of mind which 
 might have betrayed to us his distresses. 
 
 " Gradually I found that filial affection was taking the 
 strongest hold of me. I thought I could endure unhappiness 
 myself, but I could not bear to see my father miserable. I 
 weighed the consequences, and reasoned so far as I possessed 
 the faculty of reasoning. I saw his ruin or my own was in- 
 evitable ! 
 
FILIAL AFFECTION. 99 
 
 " The struggle was indeed sharp — it was long — it was very 
 painful: but at length filial piety prevailed over self; and I' 
 determined upon my own sacrifice. I communicated to my 
 
 father my decision to admit the addresses of Sir R M : 
 
 but, at the same moment, I felt an indescribable change of 
 character commence, which, from that sad period, has more or 
 less affected every action of my life. I felt a sort of harsh 
 sensation arise within my mind, and operate upon my temper, 
 to which they had previously been strangers. My spirits 
 flagged, my pursuits grew insipid, and I perceived that the 
 ice of indifference was chilling all the sensibility of my na- 
 ture. 
 
 " From the moment of my assent, my father's disposition 
 seemed to have undergone almost as radical a change as my 
 own. He became once more cheerful, and I had at least the 
 gratification of reflecting that, if I were myself lost, I had saved 
 a parent ! But I must remark that it was not so as to my moth- 
 er, who indeed, had never been kind to me. 
 
 " In due time the settlements were prepared, and my fortune 
 I learned, secretly divided. The ceremony was about to be 
 
 performed, and Sir R M at that very hour appeared 
 
 to be the most disagreeable of mankind. There was a sort 
 of uncouth civility, an abrupt, fiery, coarse expression, even in 
 his most conciliatory manners, which seemed to set all feelings 
 of respect or cordiality at defiance. As to love, he was not 
 susceptible of the passion, while I was created to enjoy its ten- 
 derest blessings. He was half mad by nature ; I had become 
 so from misery ! and in this state of mind we met to be united 
 at the altar ! I was determined, however, that he should 
 learn by anticipation what he had to expect from me as a wife. 
 
 ' Sir R M ,' said I to him, ' I am resolved to give you 
 
 the last proof you will ever receive of my candor. I accept you, 
 not only as a husband whom I never can love, and never will 
 obey, but whom I absolutely detest ! now marry me at your | 
 peril, and take the consequences!' He laughed convulsively, 
 took me by the hand, and having led me into the next room, 
 that ceremony was performed to which I should have thought 
 a sentence of death preferable. The moment we were united, 
 
100 PATRICIANS AND PLEBEIANS. 
 
 I retired to my chamber, where tears flowing in torrents, cooled 
 my heated feelings. My purpose in marrying was effected, I 
 therefore determined that, if possible, I never would live an 
 hour in his society, and it was two months before my ill-fated 
 stars compelled me to become the actual wife of the most un- 
 feeling and abominable of fanatics. 
 
 " Our residence together of course was short, and at twenty- 
 one I was thrown upon the world to avoid my husband's soci- 
 ety. Being possessed of sufficient means, I travelled ; and for 
 the fourteen years of our separation my whole time was an un- 
 natural and continued strife between passion and propriety. 
 On a late occasion, you were my counsel, and from you nothing 
 has been concealed. You did me more than justice, you have 
 defeated him, and preserved me !" 
 
 I have not seen her ladyship for these many years ; but 
 never did I meet with one whom I conceived to be more com- 
 pletely thrown away, or Avhose natural disposition seemed more 
 calculated to lead to her own happiness and to the happiness of 
 those within her sphere of influence. 
 
 PATRICIANS AND PLEBEIANS. 
 
 The Three Clashes of Gentlemen in Ireland desciibed — Irish Poets— Mr. Thomas Flinter 
 and D. Henesey — The Bard — Peculiarities of the Peasants — Their Ludicrous Misinforma- 
 tion as to Distances accounted tor — Civility of a Waiter — Their Equivocation and Mis- 
 direction of Travellers to Different Places. 
 
 I will now proceed to lay before the reader a brief but more 
 general sketch of the state of Irish society at the period of my 
 youth, reminding him of the principle which I have before as- 
 sumed ; namely, that of considering anecdotes, bon-mots, and 
 such-like, valuable only as they tend to exemplify interesting 
 facts, relative to history or manners : many such I have in- 
 serted in these fragments ; and as I have been careful through- 
 out to avoid mere inventions, my reader need not, by any 
 means, reserve their perusal for the study of his travelling car- 
 riage. 
 
THREE GLASSES OF IRISH GENTRY. 101 
 
 Miss Edgeworth, in her admirable sketch of CasLle Rackrcnt, 
 gives a faithful picture of the Irish character under the circum- 
 stances which she has selected ; and the account that I am 
 about to give, may serve as a kind of supplement to that little 
 work, as well as an elucidation of the habits and manners of 
 Irish country society about the period Miss Edgeworth alludes 
 to, and somewhat later. 
 
 In those days, then, the common people ideally separated • 
 the gentry of the country into three classes, and treated each 
 class according to the relative degree of respect to which they 
 considered it was entitled. 
 
 They generally divided them thus : — 
 
 1. Hal f -mount ed gentlemen. 
 
 2. Gentlemen every inch ofilicm. 
 
 3. Gentlemen to the hack-bone. 
 
 The first-named class formed the only species of indepen- 
 dent yeomanry then existing in Ireland. They were the de- 
 scendents of the small grantees of Queen Elizabeth, Cromwell,if 
 and King William ; possessed about two hundred acres of land 
 each ; in fee farm, from the crown ; and were occasionally ad- 
 mitted into the society of gentlemen — particularly hunters — 
 living at other times among each other, with an intermixture 
 of their own servants with whom they were always on terms 
 of intimacy. They generally had good clever horses, which 
 could leap over anything, but had never felt the trimming- 
 scissors or currycomb. The riders commonly wore buckskin 
 breeches, and boots well greased (blacking was never used in 
 this country), and carried large thong whips heavily loaded 
 with lead at the butt-end, so that they were always prepared 
 either to horsewhip a man or knock his brains out, as circum-~- 
 stances might dictate. These half-mounted gentlemen exer- 
 cised the hereditary authority of keeping the ground clear at 
 horseraces, hurlings, and all public meetings (as the soldiers 
 keep the lines at a review). Their business was to ride round 
 the inside of the ground, which they generally did with be- 
 coming spirit, trampling over some, knocking down others, and 
 slashing everybody who encroached on the proper limits. 
 Bones being but very seldom broken, and skulls still seldomer 
 
102 PATRICIANS AND PLEBEIANS. 
 
 fractured, everybody approved of their exertions, because all 
 the bystanders gained therefrom a full view of the sport which 
 was going forward. A shout of merriment was always set up 
 when a half-mounted gentleman knocked down an interloper ; 
 and some of the poets present, if they had an opportunity, 
 roared out their verses* by way of a song to encourage the 
 gentlemen. 
 
 The second class, or gentlemen every inch of them, were of 
 excellent old families ; whose finances were not in so good or- 
 der as they might have been, but who were popular among all 
 ranks. They were far above the first degree, somewhat infe- 
 rior to the third ; but had great influence, were much beloved, 
 and carried more sway at popular elections and general county 
 meetings, than the other two classes put together. 
 
 The third class, or gentlemen to the back-bone, were of the 
 oldest families and settlers, universally respected, and idolized 
 by the peasantry, although they also were generally a little out 
 at elbows. Their word was law; their nod would have im- 
 mediately collected an army of cottagers, or colliers, or what- 
 ever the population was composed of. Men, women, and 
 children, were always ready and willing to execute anything 
 " the squire" required, without the slightest consideration as to 
 either its danger or propriety. 
 
 A curious circumstance perhaps rendered my family pecu- 
 liarly popular. The common people had conceived the notion 
 that the lord of Cullenaghmore had a right to save a man's 
 life every summer assizes at Maryborough ; and it did fre- 
 quently so happen, within my recollection, that my father's 
 intercession in favor of some poor deluded creatures (when the 
 White Boy system was in activity), was kindly attended to by 
 
 * I recollect an example of those good-humored madrigals. A poet, called 
 Daniel Bran, sang it aloud, as he himself lay sprawling on the grass, after 
 having been knocked down and ridden over by old Squire Flood, who 
 showed no mercy in the " execution of his duty." 
 
 "There was Despard so brave, 
 
 That son of the wave, 
 And Tom Conway, the pride of the bower; 
 
 But noble Squire Flood 
 
 Swore, G — d d — n his blood ! 
 But he'd drown them all in the Delower." 
 
TOM FLINTER AND DICK HENESEY. 103 
 
 the government ; and, certainly, besides this number, many- 
 others of his tenants owed their lives to similar interference. 
 But it was wise in the government to accede to such repre- 
 sentations ; since their concession never failed to create such 
 an influence in my father's person over the tenantry, that he 
 was enabled to preserve them in perfect tranquillity, while 
 those surrounding were in a constant state of insubordination to 
 all law whatever. 
 
 I recollect a Mr. Tom Flinter, of Timahoe, one of the first 
 class gentlemen, who had speculated in cows and sheep, and 
 everything he could buy up, till his establishment was reduced 
 to one blunt faithful fellow, Dick Henesey, who stuck to him 
 throughout all his vicissitudes. Flinter had once on a time 
 got a trifle of money, which was burning in his greasy pocket, 
 and he wanted to expend it at a neighboring fair, where his 
 whole history, as well as the history of every man of his half- 
 mounted contemporaries, was told in a few verses, by a fellow 
 called Ned the dog-stealer, but who was also a great poet, and 
 resided in the neighborhood.* 
 
 In travelling through Ireland, a stranger is very frequently 
 puzzled by the singular ways, and especially by the idiomatic 
 equivocation, characteristic of every Irish peasant. Some years 
 back, more particularly, these men were certainly originals — 
 quite unlike any other people whatever. Many an hour of cu- 
 
 * They were considered as a standing joke for many years in that part 
 of the country, and ran as follows: 
 
 Dialogue between Tom Flinter and his man. 
 
 Tom Flinter. Dick ! said he ; 
 
 Dick Henesey. What ? said he ; 
 
 Tom Flinter. Fetch me my hat, says he ; 
 
 For 1 will go, says he ; 
 
 To Timahoe, says he ; 
 
 To buy the fair, says he ; 
 
 And all that's there, says he. 
 
 Dick Henesey. Arrah ! pay what you owe ! said be ; 
 And then you may go, says he ; 
 To Timahoe, says he ; 
 To buy the fair, says he; 
 And all that's there, says he. 
 
 Tom Flinter. Well! by this and by that ! said he! 
 Dick ! hang up my hat ! says he. 
 
104 PATRICIANS AND PLEBEIANS. 
 
 rious entertainment has been afforded me by their eccentrici- 
 ties ; yet, though always fond of prying into the remote sour- 
 ces of these national peculiarities, I must frankly confess that, 
 with all my pains, I never was able to develop half of them, 
 except by one sweeping observation ; namely, that the brains 
 and tongues of the Irish are somehow differently formed or fur- 
 nished from those of other people. 
 
 One general hint which I beg to impress upon all travellers 
 in Ilibernia, is the following ; that if they show a disposition 
 toward kindness, together with a moderate familiarity, and 
 affect to be inquisitive, whether so or not, the Irish peasant will 
 outdo them tenfold in every one of these dispositions. But if 
 a man is haughty and overbearing, he had better take care of 
 himself. 
 
 I have often heard it remarked and complained of by travel- 
 lers and strangers, that they never could get a true answer from 
 any Irish peasant as to distances, when on a journey. For ma- 
 ny years I myself thought it most unaccountable. If you meet 
 a peasant on your journey, and ask him how far, for instance, 
 to Ballinrobe, he will probably say it is, " three short miles." 
 You travel on, and are informed by the next peasant you meet, 
 that "it is Jive long miles." On you go and the next will tell 
 " your honor" it is "four ?niles, or about that same." The 
 fourth will swear " if your honor stops at three miles, you'll 
 never get there !" But on pointing to a town just before you 
 and inquiring what place that is, he replies, 
 
 " Oh! plaze your honor, that's Ballinrobe, sure enough!" 
 " Why, you said it was more than three miles off!" 
 " Oh yes ! to be sure and sartain, that's from my own cabin, 
 plaze your honor. We're no scholards in this country. Ar- 
 rah ! how can we tell any distance, plaze your honor, but from 
 our own little cabins ? Nobody but the schoolmaster knows 
 that, plaze your honor." 
 
 Thus is the mystery unravelled. When you ask any peas- 
 ant the distance of the place you require, he never computes 
 it from where you then art, but from his own cabin ; so that, if 
 you asked twenty, in all probability you would have as many 
 different answers, and not one of them correct. But it is to be 
 
IRISH EQUIVOCATION. 105 
 
 observed, that frequently you can get no reply at all unless you 
 understand Irish. 
 
 In parts of Kerry and Mayo, however, I have met with 
 peasants who speak Latin not badly. On the election of Sir 
 John Brown for the county of Mayo, Counsellor Thomas Moore 
 and I went down as his counsel. The weather was desperately 
 severe. At a solitary inn, where we were obliged to stop for 
 horses, we requested dinner ; upon which, the waiter laid a 
 cloth that certainly exhibited every species of dirt ever invent- 
 ed. We called and remonstrating with him, ordered a clean 
 cloth. He was a low, fat fellow, with a countenance perfectly 
 immovable, and seeming to have scarcely a single muscle in it. 
 He nodded, and on our return to the room (which we had quit- 
 ted during the interval) we found, instead of a clean cloth, that 
 he had only folded up the filthy one into the thickness of a 
 cushion. We now scolded away in good earnest. He looked 
 at us with the greatest sang-froid, and said sententiously, 
 " Nemo mc impune lacessit." 
 
 He kept his word : when we had proceeded about four miles 
 in deep snow, and through a desperate night, on a bleak road, 
 one of the wheels came off the carriage, and down we went ! 
 We were at least two miles from any house. The driver curs- 
 ed, in Irish, Michael the waiter, who, he said, had put a new 
 wheel upon the carriage, which had turned out to be an old one, 
 and had broken to pieces. 
 
 We had to march through the snow to a wretched cottage, 
 and sit up all night to get a genuine new wheel ready for the 
 morning. 
 
 The Irish peasant, also, never answers any question directly : 
 in some districts, if you ask him where such a gentleman's 
 house is, he will point and reply, " Does your honor see that 
 large house there, all among the trees, with a green field 
 before it ?" You answer, " Yes." " Well," says he, " plaze 
 your honor that's not it. But do you see that big brick house 
 with the cow-houses by the side of that same, and a pond of 
 water ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well, plaze your honor, that's not it. But, if you plaze 
 
 5* 
 
106 IRISH INNS. 
 
 look quite to the right of that same house, and you '11 see the top 
 of a castle among the trees .there, with a road going down to it, 
 betune the bushes." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Well, plaze your honor, that's not it, neither — but if your 
 honor will come down this bit of a road a couple of miles, I '11 
 show it you sure enough — and if your honor's in a hurry, I can 
 run on hotfoot* and tell the squire your honor 's galloping after 
 me. Ah ! who shall I tell the squire, plaze your honor, is 
 coming to see him % he 's my own landlord, God save his honor 
 day and night !" 
 
 IRISH INNS. 
 
 Their General Character — Objections commonly made to Them — Answer thereto — Sir 
 Charles Vernon's Mimicry — Moll Harding — Accident of nearly a Fatal Nature to the 
 Author. 
 
 An Irish inn has been an eternal subject of ridicule to every 
 writer upon the habits and appearances, of my native country. 
 It is true that, in the early period of my life, most of the inns 
 in Ireland were nearly of the same quality ; a composition of 
 slovenliness, bad meat, worse cooking, and few vegetables (save 
 the royal Irish potato), but plenty of fine eggs, smoked bacon, 
 often excellent chickens, and occasionally the hen as soon as 
 she had done hatching them — if you could chew her. They 
 generally had capital claret, and plenty of civility in all its 
 ramifications. 
 
 The poor people did their best to entertain their guests, but 
 did not understand their trade ; and even had it been otherwise, 
 they had neither furniture, nor money, nor credit, nor cattle, 
 nor customers enough to keep things going well together. 
 There were then no post-horses, nor carriages — consequently, 
 very little travelling in Ireland; and if there had been, the 
 
 * A figurative expression for "with all possible speed" — used by the Irish 
 peasants: by taking short cuts, and fairly hopping along, a young peasant 
 would beat any good traveller. 
 
ANECDOTES MOLL HARDING. 107 
 
 ruts and holes would have rendered thirty miles a-day a good 
 journey. Yet I verily believe, on the whole, that the people 
 in general were happier, at least they appeared vastly more 
 contented than at present. I certainly never met with so bad 
 a thing in Ireland as the "Red Cow" in John Bull : for what- 
 ever might have been the quality, there was plenty of some- 
 thing or other always to be had at the inns to assuage hunger 
 and thirst. 
 
 The best description I ever recollect to have heard of an Irish , 
 inn, its incidents, and appurtenances, was in a sort of medley 
 sung and spoken by the present Sir Charles Vernon, when he 
 had some place in the lord-lieutenant's establishment at Dublin 
 castle : it was delivered by him to amuse the company after 
 supper, and was an excellent piece of mimicry. He took off 
 ducks, geese, pigs, chickens, the cook and the landlady, the 
 guests, &c, to the greatest possible perfection. 
 
 One anecdote respecting an Irish inn may, with modifica- 
 tions, give some idea of others at that period. A Mrs. Moll 
 Harding kept the natest inn in Ballyroan, close to my father's 
 house. I recollect to have heard a passenger (they are very 
 scarce there) telling her, that " his sheets had not been aired." 
 With great civility Moll Harding begged his honor's pardon, 
 and said, " They certainly were and must have been well aired, 
 for there was not a gentleman came to the house the last fort- 
 night that had not slept in them !" 
 
 Another incident which occurred in an Irish inn, is for good 
 reasons, much more firmly impressed on my recollection, and 
 may give a hint worth having to some curious travellers in their 
 peregrinations to Kerry, Killarney, &c. 
 
 The late Earl Farnham had a most beautiful demesne at a 
 village called Newtown Barry, County Wexford. It is a choice 
 spot, and his lordship resided in a very small house in the vil- 
 lage. He was always so obliging as to make me dine with him 
 on my circuit journey, and I slept at the little inn — in those 
 days a very poor one indeed. 
 
 The day of my arrival was, on one occasion, wet, and a very 
 large assemblage of barristers were necessitated to put up 
 with any accommodation they could get. I was sure of a good 
 
108 IRISH INKS. 
 
 dinner ; but every bed was engaged. I dined with Lord 
 F , took my wine merrily, and adjourned to the inn, deter- 
 mined to sit up all night at the kitchen-fire. I found every 
 one of my brethren in bed ; the maid-servant full of good 
 
 ^liquor; and the man and woman of the house quite- as joyously 
 provided for. The lady declared, she could not think of per- 
 mitting my honor to sit up ; and if I would accept of their little 
 snug cupboard-bed by the fireside, I should be warm and com- 
 fortable. This arrangement I thought a most agreeable one : 
 the bed was let down from the niche, into which it had been 
 folded up, and, in a few minutes, I was in a comfortable slum- 
 ber. 
 
 My first sensation in the morning was, however, one which 
 it is not in my power to describe now, because I could not do 
 so five minutes after it was over — suffice it to say, I found 
 myself in a state of suffocation- with my head down and my 
 feet upward ! I had neither time nor power for reflection ; I 
 attempted to cry out, but that was impossible ; the agonies of 
 death, I suppose, were coming on me, and some convulsive 
 effort gave me a supernatural strength that probably saved me 
 from a most inglorious and whimsical departure. On a sudden 
 I felt my position change ; and with a crash sounding to me 
 like thunder, down the bed and I came upon the floor. I then 
 felt that I had the power of a little articulation, and cried out 
 
 , " Murder !" with as much vehemence as I was able. The man, 
 woman, and maid, by this time all sober, came running into the 
 room together. The woman joined me in crying out murder ; 
 the maid alone knew the cause of my disaster, and ran as fast 
 as she could for the apothecary, to bleed me. I had, however, 
 recovered after large draughts of cold water, and obtained sense 
 enough to guess at my situation. 
 
 The maid, having been drunk when I went to bed, on awa- 
 kening just at break of day to begin to set all matters to rights, 
 and perceiving her master and mistress already up, had totally 
 forgotten the counsellor! — and having stronger arms of her 
 own than any barrister of the home-circuit, in order to clear 
 the kitchen, had hoisted up the bed into its proper niche, and 
 turned the button at the top that kept it in its place : in con- 
 
MY YOUNGER BROTHER. 109 
 
 feguence of which, down went my head and up went my heels ! 
 and as air is an article indispensably necessary to existence, 
 death would very soon have ended the argument, had not my 
 violent struggles caused the button to give way, and so brought 
 me once more out of the position of the antipodes. The poor 
 woman was as much alarmed as I was ! 
 
 'I felt no inconvenience afterward. But what has happened 
 once may chance to occur again : and I only wonder that the 
 same accident does not frequently take place among this kind 
 of people and of beds. 
 
 FATAL DUEL OF MY BROTHER. 
 
 Duel of my Brother William Barrington with Mr. M'Kenzie — He is killed by his Antag- 
 onist's Second, General Gillespie — The General's Character — Tried for Murder — Judge 
 Bradstreet's Charge — Extraordinary Incidents of the Trial — The Jury arranged — The 
 High-Sheriff (Mr. Lyons) challenged by M stake — His Hair cut off by Henry French 
 Barrington — Exhibited in the Ballroom — The Curl Club formed — The Sheriff quits the 
 Country, and never returns — Gillespie goes to India : killed there — Observations on his 
 Cenotaph in Westminster Abbey. 
 
 As the circumstances attending the death of my younger 
 brother, William Barrington, by the hand of the celebrated 
 General Gillespie (whom government has honored with a mon- 
 ument in Westminster Abbey), have been variously detailed — 
 seldom, indeed, twice the same way — I think it right to take 
 this opportunity of stating the facts of that most melancholy 
 transaction. I will do so as concisely as may be, and as dis- 
 passionately as the slaughter of a beloved brother will admit of. 
 
 William Barrington had passed his twentieth year, and had 
 intended, without delay, to embrace the military profession. 
 He was active, lively, full of spirit and of animal courage ; his 
 predominant traits were excessive good-nature, and a most zeal- 
 ous attachment to the honor and individuals of his family. 
 
 Gillespie, then captain in a cavalry -regiment, had shortly be- 
 fore the period in question married a Miss Taylor, an intimate 
 friend of ours, and was quartered in Athy, where my mother 
 resided, 
 
110 FATAL DUEL OF MY BROTHER. 
 
 A very close and daily intercourse sprang up between the 
 families. After dinner, one day, at Gillespie's house, when 
 every gentleman had taken more wine than was prudent, a 
 dispute arose between my brother and a Mr. M'Kenzie, lieu- 
 tenant in an infantry -regiment, quartered at the same place. 
 This dispute should never have been suffered to arise ; and, as 
 it was totally private, should, at least, never have proceeded 
 farther. But no attempt was made to either reconcile or check 
 it, on the part of Captain Gillespie, although the thing occurred 
 at his own table. 
 
 Gillespie was a very handsome person ; but it was not that 
 species of soldier-like and manly beauty which bespeaks the 
 union of courage and generosity. He had a fair and smooth 
 countenance, wherein impetuosity appeared to be the prevail- 
 ing feature, j His, however, was not the rapid flow of transi- 
 tory anger, which, rushing ingenuously from the heart, is in- 
 stantly suppressed by reason and repentance : I admire that 
 temper ; it never inhabits the same mind with treachery or 
 malice. On the contrary, a livid paleness overspread the 
 countenance of Gillespie upon the slightest ruffle of his humor. 
 The vulgar call such, " white-livered persons" They are no fa- 
 vorites with the world in general : and I have never, through- 
 out the course of a long life, observed one man so constituted 
 possessing a list of virtues. 
 
 I never could bear Gillespie! — Iliad an instinctive dislike 
 to him, which I strove, in vain, to conquer. I always consid- 
 ered him to be a dangerous man — an impetuous, unsafe com- 
 panion — capable of anything in his anger. I know I ought 
 not to speak with prejudice ; yet, alas ! if I do, who can blame 
 me % 
 
 A cenotaph, voted by the British parliament, has raised his 
 fame : but it is the fame of a sahreur — erected on piles of 
 slaughter, and cemented by the blood of Indians. No tale of 
 social virtues appears to enrich the cornice of his monument. 
 I wish there had ! it would at any rate have indicated repent- 
 ance. 
 
 To return to my story. Midway between Athy and Carlow 
 was agreed on for a meeting. I resided in Dublin, and was 
 
SHOT BY HIS ANTAGONIST'S SECOND. Ill 
 
 ignorant of the transaction till too late ! a crowd, as usual, 
 attended the combat ; several gentlemen, and some relatives 
 of mine, were, I regret to say, present. In a small, verdant 
 field, on the bank of the Barrow, my brother and M'Kenzie 
 were placed. Gillespie, who had been considered as the friend 
 and intimate of my family, volunteered as second to M'Kenzie 
 (a comparative stranger), who was in no way adverse to an 
 amicable arrangement. Gillespie, however, would hear of none ; 
 the honor of a military man, he said, must be satisfied, and 
 nothing but blood, or at least every effort to draw it, could form 
 that satisfaction. 
 
 The combatants fired and missed. They fired again : no 
 mischief was the consequence. A reconciliation was now pro- 
 posed,' but objected to by Gillespie. And will it be believed 
 that, in a civilized country, when both combatants were satis- 
 fied, one of the principals should be instantly slain by a second? 
 Yet such was the case : my brother stood two fires from his 
 opponent, and, while professing his readiness to be reconciled, 
 was shot dead by the hand of his opponent's second ] 
 
 Gillespie himself is now departed : he died by the same death 
 that he had inflicted. But he was more favored by Providence : 
 he died the death of a soldier ; he fell by the hand of the ene- 
 my, not by the weapon of an intimate. 
 
 William was my very beloved brother ! The news soon 
 reached me in Dublin. I could not, or rather I durst not, give 
 utterance to the nature and extent of my feelings on the com- 
 munication. Thus much I will admit, that sorrow had the 
 least share in those thoughts which predominated. A passion 
 not naturally mine absorbed every other. My determination 
 was fixed : I immediately set out post ; but my brother had 
 been interred prior to my arrival ; and Gillespie, the sole ob- 
 ject of my vengeance, had fled, nor was his retreat to be dis- 
 covered. I lost no time in procuring a warrant for murder 
 against him from Mr. Hian, a magistrate. I sought him in 
 every place to which I could attach suspicion ; day and night 
 my pursuit was continued, but, as it pleased God, in vain. I 
 was not, indeed, in a fit state for such a rencontre ; for, had we 
 met, he or I would surely have perished. I returned to Dub- 
 
112 FATAL DUEL OF MY BROTHER. 
 
 lin, and, as my mind grew cooler, thanked Heaven that I had 
 not personally found him. I, however, published advertise- 
 ments widely, offering a reward for his apprehension ; and at 
 length he surrendered into the prison of Maryborough. 
 
 The assizes approached : and I can not give the sequel of 
 this melancholy story better than by a short recital of Gillespie's 
 extraordinary trial, and the still more extraordinary incidents 
 which terminated the transaction. 
 
 The judges arrived at the assize town (it was during the 
 summer assizes of 1788), accompanied in the usual way by the 
 high-sheriff (Mr. Lyons, of Watercastle), and escorted by nu- 
 merous bailiffs and a grand cavalcade. Mr. Lyons was a gen- 
 tleman of taste and elegance, who had travelled much ; he 
 possessed a small fortune, and a beautiful cottage ornee, on the 
 banks of the Nore, near Lord de Vesci's. Mr. Thomas Kem- 
 mis (afterward crown solicitor of Ireland) was the attorney 
 very judiciously selected by Captain Gillespie to conduct his 
 defence. 
 
 The mode of choosing juries in criminal cases is well known 
 to every lawyer, and its description would be uninteresting to 
 an ordinary reader. Suffice it to say that, by the methods 
 then used of selecting, arranging, and summoning the panel, a 
 sheriff, or sub-sheriff, in good understanding with a prisoner, 
 might afford him very considerable if not decisive aid. And 
 when it is considered that juries must be unanimous, even one 
 dissentient or obstinate juror being capable of effectually pre- 
 venting any conviction — and further, that the charge we are 
 alluding to was that of murder or homicide, occurring in con- 
 sequence of a duel, on the same ground and at the same time 
 — it might fairly be expected that the culprit would stand a 
 good chance of acquittal from military men, who, accustomed 
 to duelling, and living in a country where affairs of that kind 
 were then more frequent than in any other, would obviously be 
 inclined to regard the circumstance more indulgently than a 
 jury of mere civilians would do. 
 
 To select, by management, a military jury, Avas therefore 
 the natural object of the prisoner and his friends ; and, in fact, 
 the list appeared with a number of half-pay officers at the head 
 
TRIAL OF GILLESPIE. 113 
 
 of it, who, as gentlemen, were naturally pained at seeing a 
 brother-officer and a man of most prepossessing appearance in 
 the dock for murder. The two prisoners challenged forty- 
 eight ; the list was expended, and the prosecutor was driven 
 back to show cause why he objected to the first thirteen. No 
 legal ground for such objection could be supported ; and thus, 
 out of twelve jurors, no less than ten were military officers. The 
 present Lord Downe and the late Judge Fletcher were the pris- 
 oner's counsel. 
 
 On this, perhaps, the most interesting trial ever known in 
 that county, numerous witnesses having been examined, the 
 principal facts proved for the prosecution were — that after 
 M'Kenzie and my brother had fired four shots without effect, 
 the latter said he hoped enough had been done for both their 
 honors, at the same time holding out his hand to M'Kenzie, 
 whose second, Captain Gillespie, exclaimed that his friend 
 should not be satisfied, and that the affair should proceed. The 
 spectators combined in considering it concluded, and a small 
 circle having been formed, my brother, who persisted in utter- 
 ing his pacific wishes, interposed some harsh expressions toward 
 Gillespie, who thereupon losing all control over his temper, 
 suddenly threw a handkerchief to William Barrington, asking 
 if he dared to take a corner of that. The unfortunate boy, full 
 of spirit and intrepidity, snatched at the handkerchief, and at 
 the same moment received a ball from Gillespie through his 
 body ; so close were they together, that his coat appeared 
 scorched by the powder. He fell, and was carried to a cabin 
 hard by, where he expired in great agony the same evening. 
 As he was in the act of falling, his pistol went off. Gillespie 
 immediately fled, and was followed by three of his own dra- 
 goons, whom he had brought with him, and who were present 
 at the transaction, but whom he declined examining on the trial. 
 The spectators were very numerous, and scarcely a dry eye left 
 the field. 
 
 Captain Gillespie's defence rested upon an assertion on his 
 part of irritating expressions having been used by my brother, 
 adding that the cock of his own pistol was knocked off by my 
 brother's fire. But that very fact proved everything against 
 
114 FATAL DUEL OF MY BROTHER. 
 
 liim : because his shot must have been fired and have taken 
 effect in my brother's body previously ; for if the cock had been 
 broken in the first place, Gillespie's pistol could not have gone 
 off. In truth, the whole circumstance of a second killing a 
 principal because he desired reconciliation, was, and remains, 
 totally unexampled in the history of duelling, even in the most 
 barbarous eras and countries. 
 
 Judge Bradstreet, who tried the prisoners, held it to be 
 clearly murder by law. A verdict of even manslaughter must 
 (he contended) be returned by a forced or rather false con- 
 struction ; but acquit him (Gillespie) generally, the jury could 
 not. 
 
 The prosecution was not followed up against M'Kenzie, whose 
 conduct throughout had been that of an officer and a gentleman, 
 and who had likewise desired reconciliation. Of course, he was 
 acquitted. 
 
 The jury had much difficulty in making up their verdict. 
 Some of them, being men of considerable reputation, hesitated 
 long. They could not acquit ; they icould not convict : and 
 hence a course was taken which corresponded neither with the 
 law nor the evidence. A verdict of " justifiable homicide" was 
 returned, in consequence of which Captain Gillespie was dis- 
 charged on his recognizance to appear in the court of king's 
 bench the ensuing term, and plead his majesty's pardon. 
 
 Thus was compromised the justice of the country. Thus 
 commenced the brilliant career of that general whom the mu- 
 nificence of the British nation has immortalized by a monument 
 among her heroes ! Thus did the blood of one of the finest 
 youths of Ireland first whet Gillespie's appetite for that course 
 of glorious butchery to which he owed his subsequent eleva- 
 tion. But conscience is retributive, and Heaven is just. I 
 hear that he was never happy after. Intrepid to excess, he 
 often tempted fate ; and his restless and remorseful existence 
 was at length terminated by a Gentoo under the walls of Ban- 
 galore. 
 
 The circumstances attending General Gillespie's death are 
 remarkable, and manifest, in my opinion, desperation rather 
 than real bravery. He had, contrary to instructions, attempted 
 
A LUDICROUS INCIDENT. 115 
 
 to storm : his fire was inadequate — his troops repulsed ; new 
 attempts were made, but again unsuccessfully, numerous brave 
 men being sacrificed to no purpose. Still the general per- 
 sisted : even -the guard was taken from the paymaster, who 
 had treasure under his care. Gillespie was aware that he had 
 disobeyed instructions, and was determined to succeed or per- 
 ish in the attempt. He damned the paymaster, who remon- 
 strated against being left unprotected — looked for a moment 
 through his glass — and seeing his men falling fast, he drew 
 his sword, called upon every soldier to follow him, and in five 
 minutes received several balls, which ended his cares and ex- 
 istence. Rcauiescat in pace ! — but never Avill I set my foot in 
 Westminster abbey. 
 
 Scarcely was the melancholy trial referred to over, when 
 the case was succeeded by another almost in the opposite ex- 
 treme — altogether too ludicrous, indeed, to form the termina- 
 tion of so serious a business, but at the same time too extraor- 
 dinary and too public to be omitted. It was certainly, in its 
 way, as unparalleled an affair as that which gave rise to it. 
 
 On the evening of the trial, my second brother, Henry French 
 Barrington — a gentleman of considerable estate, and whose 
 perfect good temper, but intrepid and irresistible impetuosity 
 when assailed, were well known (the latter quality having 
 been severely felt in the county before) — came to me. He 
 was, in fact, a complete country-gentleman, utterly ignorant 
 of the law, its terms and proceedings ; and as I was the first 
 of my name who had ever followed any profession (the army 
 excepted), my opinion, so soon as I became a counsellor, was 
 considered by him as oracular. Indeed, questions far beyond 
 mine, and sometimes beyond the power of any person existing, 
 to solve, were frequently submitted for my decision by our 
 neighbors in the country. 
 
 Having called me aside out of the bar-room, my brother 
 seemed greatly agitated, and informed me that a friend of ours, 
 who had seen the jury -list, declared that it had been decidedly 
 packed! — concluding his appeal by asking me what he ought 
 to do. I told him we should have " challenged the array." — 
 " That was my opinion, Jonah," said he, " and I will do it 
 
116 FATAL DUEL OF MY BROTHER. 
 
 now !" adding an oath, and expressing a degree of animation 
 which I could not account for. I apprised him that it was now 
 too late, as it should have been done before trial. 
 
 He said no more, but departed instantly, and I did not think 
 again upon the subject. An hour after, however, my brother 
 sent in a second request to see me. I found him, to all appear- 
 ance, quite cool and tranquil. " I have done it, by G — d !" 
 cried he exultingly ; " 'twas better late than never!" and with 
 that he produced from his coat-pocket a long queue and a hand- 
 ful of powdered hair and curls. " See here !" continued he, 
 " the cowardly rascal !" 
 
 " Heavens !" cried I, " French, are you mad ?" 
 
 "Mad!" replied he, "no, no! I followed your own advice 
 exactly. I went directly after I left you to the grand-jury 
 room to 'challenge tlie array? and there I challenged the head 
 of the array, that cowardly Lyons ! He peremptorily refused 
 to fight me ; so I knocked him down before the grand-jury, and 
 cut off his curls and tail — see, here they are — the rascal! — 
 and my brother Jack has gone to flog the sub-sheriff!" 
 
 I was thunderstruck, and almost thought my brother was 
 crazy, since he was obviously not in liquor at all. But, after 
 some inquiry, I found that, like many other country gentlemen, 
 he took words in their commonest acceptation. He had seen 
 the high-sheriff coming in with a great " array" and had thus 
 conceived my suggestion as to challenging the array was lit- 
 eral ; and accordingly, repairing to the grand-jury dining-room, 
 had called the high-sheriff aside, told him he had omitted chal- 
 lenging him before trial, as he ought to have done according 
 to advice of counsel, but that it was better late than never, and 
 that he must immediately come out and fight him. Mr. Lyons 
 conceiving my brother to be intoxicated, drew back, and re- 
 fused the invitation in a most peremptory manner. French 
 then collared him, tripped up his heels, and putting his foot 
 on his breast, cut off his side-curls and queue with a carving- 
 knife which an old waiter named Spedding (who had been my 
 father's butler, and liked the thing) had readily brought him 
 from the dinner-table. Having secured Ins spoils, my brother im- 
 mediately came off in triumph to relate to me his achievement. 
 
FORMATION OF THE CURL-CLUB. 117 
 
 Mr. Lyons was a remarkably fine, handsome man ; and hav- 
 ing lived very much abroad, was by no means acquainted with 
 the humors of Irish country-gentlemen, with whom he had as- 
 sociated but little, and by whom he was not at all liked ; and 
 this his first reception must have rather surprised him. 
 
 Mr. Flood, one of the grand-jury, afterward informed me 
 that no human gravity could possibly withstand the astonish- 
 ment and ludicrous figure of the mutilated high-sheriff; the 
 laugh, consequently, was both loud and long. Nobody chose 
 to interfere in the concern ; and as Mr. Lyons had sustained 
 no bodily injury, he received very little condolement among 
 the country-gentlemen. 
 
 My situation in this curious denouement was truly to be com- 
 miserated, since I should be considered as the adviser of my 
 brother ; and I therefore determined to consult Mr. Downe 
 (Gillespie's counsel) as to what was best to be done in the 
 matter. 
 
 Mr, (afterward Lord) Downe, always proud, icy, and deco- 
 rous, seemed to think my brother's case irremediable, and that 
 a couple of years' imprisonment, and a heavy fine, at least, 
 must be the necessary result of such a trimming of a high- 
 sheriff in the face of a county — advising French, at the same 
 time, to fly and make terms, if possible. " Fly !" said French 
 Barrington, when I informed him of the suggestion ; " no no ! 
 tell Counsellor Thingumbob to go to the ball to-night, and he'll 
 see more of the matter." In fact, my brother went to the ball- 
 room when it was crowded, and having tied the sheriff's curls 
 and queue to a lamp which hung in the centre of the room, 
 got upon a form and made a loud proclamation of the whole 
 transaction from first to last. A sort of sympathetic feeling 
 caught the young men in the room, many of whom were my 
 brother's companions : they immediately led out their partners, 
 and formed a circle-dance' (as about a May-pole) around the 
 sheriff's spoils which were sticking to the lamp. The remon- 
 strances of mothers, and other discreet efforts, were totally 
 vain — the girls liked the fun, and a succession of different sets 
 did honor in turn to Mr. Lyons' late queue and curls. A club 
 was subsequently proposed, to be called the Curl-club, and to 
 
118 ENTRANCE INTO PARLIAMENT. 
 
 be held every summer assize ; and this was for several years 
 kept up. 
 
 The ensuing morning, my brother dressed up the bridle of 
 his hunter with the curls and queue, newly powdered ; and hav- 
 ing paraded the streets for a considerable time (avoiding the 
 judge's residence) he rode home ; and was never called to 
 account or molested on the subject in any way whatsoever. 
 
 Mr. Lyons left the country almost immediately, went back 
 to the continent, and never after, at least to my knowledge, 
 returned. 
 
 The matter, however, having been justly represented in a 
 serious light to the judge, he sent for me, and I related the 
 entire truth. He had been much dissatisfied with the verdict, 
 and had received strong hints as to the arrangement of the 
 jury : he could not restrain a smile, but said he must, if re- 
 quired, give permission to a magistrate to take examinations 
 against Mr. Barrington. He, however, declined all personal 
 interference on circuit ; desiring Mr. Lyons to apply to the 
 king's bench, where no doubt he would be duly attended to, 
 according to the merits of the case. But no examinations what- 
 ever were taken ; nor was any application made to the king's 
 bench. It could not have been made without involving the 
 question as to the way in which the jury was constituted; and 
 since that matter would not bear sifting, the circumstances Avere 
 suffered to remain without further investigation. 
 
 ENTRANCE INTO PARLIAMENT. 
 
 My First Entrance into the Irish House of Commons — Dinner at Sir John Parnel's — Com- 
 mencement of my Intimacy with Public Men of Celebrity — Maiden Speech — I Attack 
 Grattan and Curran— Suicide of Mr. Thoroton — Lord De Blacquiere — His Character. 
 
 The day on which I first took my seat in the Irish parlia- 
 ment for the city of Tuam, I still reflect on as one of the most 
 gratifying of my life. The circumstance, abstractedly, was 
 but of secondary consideration ; but its ' occurrence brought 
 back to my mind the events of past ages, and the high respec- 
 
FAMILY PRIDE SIR JOHN PARNTCL. 119 
 
 tability of the race from which I sprang. I almost fancied, as 
 I entered the house, that I could see my forefathers, ranged 
 upon those seats which they had so long and so honorably oc- 
 cupied in the senate of their country, welcoming their descend- 
 ant to that post which had not for a few years past been filled 
 by any member of the family. In fact, the purer part of my 
 ambition was hereby gratified. I felt myself an entirely in- 
 dependent representative of an equally independent nation — 
 as a man assuming his proper station in society, not acquiring a 
 new one. 
 
 I confess I always had, and still continue to have, and to 
 nourish, the pride which arises from having been born a gentle- 
 man. I am aware that wealth, and commerce, and perhaps 
 talent, have, in modern times, occasioned family pride to be 
 classed in the rank of follies, but I feel it, nevertheless, most 
 strongly — and if it be even a crime, I am culpable ; if a folly, 
 I submit to be regarded as imbecile. The sensations I experi- 
 enced were indeed altogether delightful, upon finding myself 
 seated under that grand and solemn dome. I looked around 
 me, and saw the most dignified men of that day — the ablest 
 orators of the period — many of the best-bred courtiers, and some 
 of the most unsophisticated patriots in the empire ! These, in- 
 cluding a few friends and intimates of my family, were mingled 
 here and there, in amicable groups, and by turns kindly encour- 
 aged a young barrister, of only two years' practice, without 
 patronage or party, as a fair aspirant to rank and eminence. 
 
 I was very greatly moved and excited ; but it was not ex- 
 citement of an ephemeral or feverish character : on the con- 
 trary, my emotions had their source in a tranquil, deep-seated, 
 perhaps proud satisfaction, impossible to be clearly described ; 
 and almost impossible to be felt by any but such as might be 
 placed in circumstances precisely similar. 
 
 There were members present, I have already said, with whom 
 I was personally acquainted. My friend, Sir John Parnel, 
 partly, I am sure, on my account, and partly, no doubt, with a 
 view to the service of the government, lost no time in intro- 
 ducing me to many of his own particular friends. 
 
 I dined with him on that day : he was then chancellor of 
 
120 ENTRANCE INTO PARLIAMENT. 
 
 the exchequer. The entire party I do not recollect ; but I 
 remember perfectly those individuals of it with whom I subse- 
 quently cultivated acquaintance. Among them were Major 
 Hobart (since Lord Buckinghamshire), Isaac Cony, Sir John 
 (since Lord) De Blacquiere, Robert Thoroton, White, Marcus 
 Beresford (Lord Clare's nephew), the present Lord Oriel (then 
 speaker), Thomas Burgh, of Bert, Sir Hercules Langreish, and 
 James Cuffe (since Lord Tyrawley). The scene was new to 
 me : hitherto, my society in Dublin had naturally fallen among 
 the members of my own profession ; we were all barristers, and 
 I felt myself but a barrister : and though certainly we formed 
 at that time the second-best society in Ireland, it was inferior 
 to that of which I had now become a member. I found myself, 
 in fact, associated as an equal in a circle of legislators whose 
 good-breeding, wit, and conviviality, were mingled with politi- 
 cal and general information. The first steps of the ladder were 
 mounted ; and as meanwhile Sir John's champagne was excel- 
 lent and quickly passed round, my spirits rose to a pitch far 
 higher than in the morning, and any talent for conversation or 
 anecdote which I might possess, involuntarily coming out, Sir 
 John Parnel, shaking his fat sides with laughter, according to 
 his usual custom, said to me, before we broke up, " Barrington, 
 you'll do !" upon which, Sir Hercules Langreish, who had very 
 much the tone of a methodist preacher, yet was one of the wit- 
 tiest men in Ireland, immediately said, "No — we -must have 
 another trial;" and a day was fixed to dine with him. 
 
 My acquaintance soon augmented to a degree almost incon- 
 venient. My friendship I limited to such men as I held to 
 possess congeniality of sentiment ; and before any long time 
 had elapsed, I was not only the frequent guest of many of the 
 distinguished characters of Ireland, but was considered as an 
 early and favored candidate for any professional promotion 
 which the shortness of my standing at the bar would admit of. 
 
 Reflecting, soon after I had taken my seat, on the novel na- 
 ture of my situation, I felt that it was beset by considerable 
 difficulties. I allude to the decision necessary for me to come 
 to with respect to the line of politics I meant to pursue. I was 
 not a new man, by whom any course might be taken, without 
 
POLITICAL PARTIES. 121 
 
 exciting comment or question. On the contrary, I was of an 
 old family, the importance and influence of which I was desir- 
 ous to revive, and hence it became requisite that I should weigh 
 my actions well, and avoid precipitancy. 
 
 Political parties at that time ran high, though but little in- 
 dividual hostility existed. Grattan, the two Ponsonbys, Cur- 
 ran, Brownlow, Forbes, Bowes, Daly, Connolly, Arthur Brown, 
 and numerous other respectable personages, were then linked 
 together in a phalanx of opposition which, under the name of 
 whiggery, not only assailed the government upon every feasi- 
 ble occasion, but was always proposing measures which under 
 the then existing system were utterly inadmissible. The op- 
 position had the advantage in point of ability, and therefore, 
 nothing but supreme talent had any chance, among them, of 
 rendering its possessor useful or valued. Though my nature 
 was patriotic, I ever respected the aristocracy, which, while 
 the democracy exhibits a people's general character and en- 
 ergy, tends to embellish the state, and to give it an imposing 
 grandeur. 
 
 The supporters of the Irish government, as I have said, were 
 certainly inferior, except in patronage and power, to the oppo- 
 sition by which they were assailed. But they lived socially : 
 there was a sort of convivial union among them, which, whether 
 in high or low J^ife, is of all other ties, for a while most binding 
 upon my countrymen. It was therefore rather inconsistent in 
 Lord Clare to give offence, as he did, to many of the most re- 
 spectable gentlemen of Ireland by calling the whigs an " eating 
 and drinking club," since the sarcasm might, at least with 
 equal justice, have been retorted on the supporters of his maj- 
 esty's government. All the great constitutional questions were, 
 in 1790, supposed to have been arranged. Still the opposition 
 sought a more radical reform, to which the government would 
 not accede. They wrangled, in fact, about every trifle — and 
 that at a time when the local concerns of the country were ad- 
 vancing to the highest pitch of prosperity. To neither party, 
 however, attached any dishonorable stigma, which should pre- 
 vent an honest man from joining their ranks ; and meanwhile, 
 I sought celebrity and advancement. The coast was clear be- 
 
 6 
 
122 ENTRANCE INTO PARLIAMENT. 
 
 fore me. I was my own master, and free to choose my own 
 course. In case of my connecting myself with the whigs, I saw 
 that I must play hut a very inferior part in their game. I felt 
 that amid such an assemblage of talent, I had hut little right to 
 expect eminence, and still less probability of acquiring profes- 
 sional advancement, even if my friends should become victorious. 
 But above all, I reflected that what at first view had appeared 
 to me a blaze of constitutional patriotism, dwindled, on a closer 
 inspection, into what is generally called party. 
 
 The country had prospered beyond all possible anticipation, 
 and was still farther advancing in prosperity, under the then 
 existing system of administration. I did not perceive that any 
 immediate change of men or of measures was at all in prospect, 
 nor that it was at that moment necessary, or even desirable. 
 My immediate personal connections were on the side of the gov- 
 ernment. I had always doubted the sincerity of the whigs ; my 
 doubts were now realized, and, on the whole consideration, I de- 
 termined to attach myself to the administration. I had previ- 
 ously voted with them on the choice of a speaker ; but that I 
 did not consider as constituting any pledge as to my future con- 
 duct. I voted for Mr. Foster, as the friend of Sir John Parnel, 
 and because I considered him more fitting for the station than 
 his opponent, Mr. William Ponsonby. 
 
 Thus my mind being at length made up, I determined to 
 render myself of some importance to the side I had adopted. 
 The common course of desultory debate (even conquest over 
 disclaimers of my own calibre), would have led to no distinction. 
 I decided either to rise or fall ; and with this view, resolved 
 to fly at once at the highest game, in which attempt even if I 
 should not succeed, the trial itself would be honorable. My 
 earliest effort was, therefore, directed against the two most 
 celebrated speakers of that period, Grattan and Curran ; and 
 on the first day I rose, I exhibited a specimen of what I may 
 now call true arrogance. The novelty of such unexpected 
 effrontery surprised the house, and afterward surprised myself. 
 It was a species of bold hardihood, which, I believe, no person 
 who had a just sense of his own inferiority would have ven- 
 tured on without great hesitation. I launched into a strong 
 
MY MAIDEN SPEECH. 123 
 
 philippic on the conduct of the most able and respectable 
 opposition that Ireland had ever possessed. I followed and 
 traced the whigs, as I thought, through all their meanderings 
 and designs. In a word, I surpassed the boundaries, not only 
 of what I had myself resolved, but of what common prudence 
 and propriety should have dictated. The government party, 
 at the same time, was evidently not gratified. Its members, 
 no doubt, considered me as a lost partisan, who had courted 
 and called for my own suppression ; and with some portion of 
 the same feeling myself, I sat down almost ashamed of my 
 forwardness, and awaiting, if not with resignation, at least with 
 certainty, a just although cruel chastisement. How, then, 
 must I have been surprised, and how wofully rebuked, by the 
 mild and gentlemanly retorts which I received from Grattan ! 
 while Ourran's good temper never showed itself more con- 
 spicuously than in his treating me merely with wit and face- 
 tiousness. I was abashed and mortified on contrasting the for- 
 bearance of those great men with my own intemperance. 
 Had I perceived anything like contempt in that forbearance, I 
 really believe I should have found it difficult to resume my 
 spirits in the house ; but no such feeling appeared toward me, 
 and it is most singular to say, that some incidents which sprang 
 from that very night's debate gave rise both to the friendship 
 of Mr. Grattan, with which I was afterward honored, and to the 
 close intimacy between me and Air. Curran, which was never 
 after interrupted. 
 
 I had the good fortune on that occasion, to make one fair 
 hit as to Grattan, which he afterward told me he was much 
 pleased by. It came across me at the moment — in fact, most 
 of the speeches I ever made have been literally impromptu. I 
 never studied a set speech in my life, except on law cases ; 
 and perhaps to this circumstance I may honestly attribute 
 an incorrectness of language that frequently attended my best 
 efforts. 
 
 Grattan had repeatedly assailed our side of the house, as " a 
 side from which all public virtues had long been banished." 
 I observed, that " the right honorable gentleman had proved 
 unequivocally the falsehood of his own assertion, that public 
 
124 ENTRANCE INTO PARLIAMENT. 
 
 virtue was confined to one side of the house — for I had had 
 the honor of seeing the right honorable gentleman himself on 
 hotli." I alluded to his having supported government against 
 Mr. Flood, after the vote of c£50,000 by parliament. This joke 
 was loudly cheered, and perhaps somewhat contributed to save 
 me from discomfiture. 
 
 From that day I attached myself zealously and sincerely to 
 the administration of Lord Westmoreland. I became more or 
 less intimate with almost every member of my party in parlia- 
 ment. I formed close and lasting friendships with Edward 
 Cooke, the unfortunate and lamented Robert Thoroton, Isaac 
 Cony, and Sir John De Blacquiere ; and it was not very long 
 before the opposition also opened their convivial ranks to re- 
 ceive me. Cnrran and Arthur Brown were the earliest of my 
 intimates on that side of the house ; and before 1792 had ex- 
 pired, I felt myself as happy on all points, and as much be- 
 friended, as any man of my standing who had preceded me. 
 
 Before I went into parliament, I had become acquainted 
 with Mr. R. Thoroton, who had come over to Ireland with the 
 duke of Rutland. He had the manner of a coxcomb, but the 
 heart of a friend, and the sentiments of a gentleman. He was 
 clerk of the house of commons ; and being by no means a com- 
 mon man, formed a necessary part of all our societies. He 
 and I lived much together : and I found the intercourse very 
 advantageous, since my friend knew everything that was going 
 forward, and, under the rose, set me right on many occasions. 
 At the same time, I was aware that circumstances existed, 
 which were the cause, to him, of great anxiety ; and, finally, a 
 most unexpected event — namely, the death of Mr. Thoroton 
 by his own hand — deprived me of one of the sincerest and 
 most useful friends I ever possessed. 
 
 But among the foremost of all those persons who, from first 
 to last, endeavored to do me service, was a man universally 
 esteemed for his gentlemanly manners, and as universally abused 
 for public jobbing. As to the latter, it concerned not me ; 
 while his friendship was of the greatest advantage. 
 
 Sir John (afterward Lord) De Blacquiere (I believe of Swiss 
 descent) had been colonel of a regiment of heavy cavalry, in 
 
SIR JOHN DE BLACQUIERE. 125 
 
 Ireland ; had acted as secretary of legation in France with 
 Lord Harcourt, and, having succeeded him there for a short 
 time as minister, came to Ireland with his lordship as principal 
 secretary, and becoming a permanent resident, attached him- 
 self to that side of politics whence only he could derive the 
 great object of his exertions — a revenue sufficiently ample to 
 enable him to entertain his friends as well, and far more agree- 
 ably, than any other person I had previously met. Nobody 
 ever understood eating and drinking better than Sir John De 
 Blacquiere ; and no man ever was better seconded in the former 
 respect than he was by his cook, Mrs. Smith, whom he brought 
 from Paris, after he had been minister there. His company 
 seldom exceeded ten in number, but so happily was it selected, 
 that I never yet saw a person rise from his table who did not 
 feel gratified. Sir John was one of the old school ; and with 
 all the playful good-breeding by which it was distinguished, he 
 had nothing of that starch pride which, in more recent times, 
 has supplanted conviviality without making men either wiser, 
 better, or happier. 
 
 Sir John certainly was a, pluralist, enjoying at one time, the 
 first, the middle, and the last pension on the Irish civil list. 
 He was director of the public Avorks in Dublin ; and to his 
 jobbing is that capital indebted for its wide streets, paving, 
 lighting, and convenient fountains. He made as much as he 
 could of these works, it is true ; but every farthing he acquired 
 in Ireland, he expended in it. If his money dime from the 
 public purse, it was distributed to the public benefit : if he re- 
 ceived pensions from the crown, butchers, bakers, and other 
 tradesmen, pocketed every shilling of it. He knew employ- 
 ment to be the best species of charity. In short, Sir John De 
 Blacquiere was as much abused, and as much regarded as any 
 public character of any period. 
 
126 SINGULAR CUSTOMS IN TIIE IRISH PARLIAMENT. 
 
 SINGULAR CUSTOMS IN THE IRISH PAR- 
 LIAMENT. 
 
 Anecdote of Tottenham in his Boots— Interesting Trial of the Earl of Kingston for Murder 
 — Description of the Forms used on that Occasion. 
 
 A very singular custom prevailed in the Irish house of com- 
 mons which never was adopted in England, nor have I ever 
 seen it mentioned in print. The description of it may be 
 amusing. 
 
 On the day whereon the routine business of the budget was 
 to be opened for the purpose of voting supplies, the speaker 
 invited the whole of the members to dinner in the house, in his 
 own and the adjoining chambers. Several peers were accus- 
 tomed to mix in the company ; and I believe an equally happy, 
 joyous, and convivial assemblage of legislators never were seen 
 together. All distinctions as to government or opposition par- 
 ties were totally laid aside ; harmony, wit, wine, and good-hu- 
 mor, reigning triumphant. The speaker, clerk, chancellor of 
 the exchequer, and a Very few veteran financiers, remained in 
 the house till the necessary routine was gone through, and then 
 joined their happy comrades — the party seldom breaking up 
 till midnight. 
 
 On the ensuing day the same festivities were repeated ; but 
 on the third day, when the report was to be brought in, and 
 the business discussed in detail, the scene totally changed ; the 
 convivialists were now metamorphosed into downright public de- 
 clamatory enemies, and ranged, on opposite sides of the house, 
 assailed each other without mercy. Every questionable item 
 was debated — every proposition deliberately discussed — and 
 more zealous or assiduous senators could nowhere be found than 
 in the very members who, during two days, had appeared to 
 commit the whole funds of the nation to the management of 
 half a dozen arithmeticians. 
 
 But all this was consonant to the national character of the 
 individuals. Set them at table, and no men enjoy themselves 
 
"TOTTENHAM IN HIS BOOTS." 127 
 
 half so much ; set them to business, no men ever worked with 
 more earnestness and effect. A steady Irishman will do more 
 in an hour, when fairly engaged upon a matter which he 
 understands, than any other countryman (so far, at least, as 
 my observation has gone) in two : the persons of whom I am 
 more immediately speaking — they certainly were extraordi- 
 narily quick and sharp ! I am, however, at the same time 
 ready to admit that the lower orders of officials — such for 
 instance as mere clerks in the public offices, exhibited no claim 
 to a participation in the praise I have given their superiors : 
 they were, on the other hand, frequently confused and incorrect ; 
 and among that description of persons I believe there were then 
 fewer competent men than in most countries. 
 
 Another custom in the house gave rise to a very curious an- 
 ecdote, which I shall here mention. The members of parlia- 
 ment formerly attended the house of commons in full dress — 
 an arrangement first broken through by the following circum- 
 stance : — 
 
 A very important constitutional question was debating be- 
 tween government and the opposition — a question, by-the-by, 
 at which my English reader will probably feel surprised — 
 namely, " as to the application of a sum of sixty thousand 
 pounds, then lying unappropriated in the Irish treasury, being 
 a balance after paying all debts and demands upon the coun- 
 try or its establishments." The numbers seemed to be nearly 
 poised — although it had been supposed that the majority 
 would incline to give it to the king, while the opposition would 
 recommend laying it out upon the country — when the ser- 
 geant-at-arms reported that a member wanted to force into the 
 house, undressed, in dirty boots, and splashed up to his shoul- 
 ders ! 
 
 The speaker could not oppose custom to privilege, and was 
 necessitated to admit him. It proved to be Mr. Tottenham, 
 of Ballycarny, County Wexford, covered with mud, and wear- 
 ing a pah* of huge jack-boots ! Having heard that the question 
 was likely to come on sooner than he expected, he had (lest 
 he should not be in time) mounted his horse at Ballycarny, set 
 off in the night, ridden nearly sixty miles up to the parliament- 
 
128 SINGULAR CUSTOMS IN THE IRISH PARLIAMENT. 
 
 house direct, and rushed in, without washing or cleaning him- 
 self, to vote for the country. He arrived just at the critical 
 moment! — and critical it was, for the numbers were in truth 
 equal, and his casting-vote gave a majority of one to " the coun- 
 try" party. 
 
 This anecdote could not die while the Irish parliament lived ; 
 and I recollect " Tottenham in his boots" remaining, down to 
 a very late period, a standing toast at certain patriotic Irish 
 tables. 
 
 Being on the topic (and, I confess, to me it is still an interesting 
 one), I. must remark a singular practical distinction in the rules 
 of the Irish and English houses of commons. In England, the 
 house is cleared of strangers for every division, and no person 
 is supposed to see or know in what way the representatives of 
 the people exercise their trust. In Ireland, on the contrary, 
 the divisions were public, and red and black lists were imme- 
 diately published of the voters on every important occasion. 
 The origin of this distinction I can not explain, but it must be 
 owned that the Irish was the most constitutional practice. 
 
 One interesting scene at which I was present merits especial 
 description, on many accounts. No other instance of the kind 
 has occurred in the British empire in my time ; and as it forms 
 a very important record with relation to the independent po- 
 litical state of Ireland at the period, and has not yet been 
 made the subject of any historical detail or observation, it can 
 not fail to be interesting in every point of view. I allude to 
 the trial of a peer of the realm of Ireland for murder, by the 
 house of lords in Dublin, after the acknowledgment of Irish 
 independence. 
 
 The grand and awful solemnity of that trial made a deep 
 impression on my memory ; and, coupled with the recollection 
 that it proclaimed indisputably the • sovereignty of the Irish 
 nation, its effect on a contemplative mind was of a penetrating 
 nature. 
 
 Robert, earl of Kingston, stood charged with the murder of 
 Colonel Fitzgerald, by shooting him in his bedchamber. The 
 relation of the circumstances of that event would be, in every 
 point of view, improper, and would only serve to recall painful 
 
THE HOUSE OF PEEKS AND COMMONS. 129 
 
 recollections long since sunk into oblivion. I therefore abstain 
 from any further allusion to tliem. Justice required the trial 
 of the accused party at the bar of his peers ; but as no similar 
 case had occurred in Ireland within the memory of man, it 
 was requisite to consult precedents upon the subject, in order 
 to render his lordship's trial conformable to the hx jparliamen- 
 taria common to both countries. The precedents were ac- 
 cordingly sought by the proper officers ; and as his lordship 
 was -weee popular, and his provocation maddening — and as all 
 were ignorant of the evidence which was to be brought forward 
 — the whole affair was of a most exciting nature to every man, 
 more especially to those individuals who possessed the noble 
 lord's acquaintance. 
 
 Owing to the great number of attendants, the full muster of 
 peers, and the extensive preparations of every kind necessary 
 in order to adhere to precedent, the house of lords was sup- 
 posed to be insufficiently large for the occasion. 
 
 The Irish house of peers was considered one of the most 
 beautiful and commodious chambers possible. It combined 
 every appearance of dignity and comfort: the walls were cov- 
 ered with tapestry, representing the battle of the Boyne, and 
 the entire eovji-d'ceil was grand and interesting ; but being, as 
 I have said, considered too small for all the purposes of the 
 trial in question, the house of commons was made ready in 
 preference. 
 
 Whoever had seen the interior of the Irish house of com- 
 mons must have admired it as one of the most chaste and clas- 
 sic models of architecture. A perfect rotunda, with Ionic pilas- 
 ters, enclosed a corridor which ran round the interior. The 
 cupola, of immense height, bestowed a magnificence which 
 could rarely be, surpassed ; while a gallery, supported by col- 
 umns divided into compartments, and accommodating seven 
 hundred spectators, commanded an uninterrupted view of the 
 chamber. 
 
 This gallery, on every important debate, was filled, not by 
 reporters, but by the superior orders of society — the first rows 
 being generally occupied by ladies of fashion and rank, who 
 diffused a brilliance over and excited a gallant decorum in that 
 
 G* 
 
130 SINGULAR CUSTOMS IN THE IRISH PARLIAMENT. 
 
 assembly which the British house certainly does not appear very 
 sedulously to cultivate. 
 
 This fine chamber was now fitted up in such a way as to 
 give it the most solemn aspect. One apartment of seats in the 
 body of the house was covered with scarlet cloth, and appro- 
 priated to the peeresses and their daughters, who ranged them- 
 selves according to the table of precedence. The commons, 
 their families and friends, lined the galleries : the whole house 
 was superbly carpeted, and the speaker's chair newly adorned 
 for the lord-chancellor. On the whole, it was by far the most 
 impressive and majestic spectacle ever exhibited within those 
 walls. 
 
 At length the peers entered, according to their rank, in full 
 dress, and richly robed. Each man took his seat in profound 
 silence ; and even the ladies (which was rather extraordinary) 
 were likewise still. The chancellor, bearing a white wand, 
 having taken his chair, the most interesting moment of all was 
 at hand, and its approach really made me shudder. 
 
 Sir Chichester Fortescue, king-at-arms, in his parti-colored 
 robe, entered first, carrying the armorial bearings of the ac- 
 cused nobleman emblazoned on his shield : he placed himself 
 on the left of the bar. Next entered Lord Kingston himself, 
 in deep mourning, moving with a slow and melancholy step. 
 His eyes were fixed on the ground ; and, walking up to the 
 bar, he was placed next to the king-at-arms, who then held his 
 armorial shield on a level with his shoulder. 
 
 The supposed executioner then approached, bearing a large 
 hatchet with an immense broad blade. It was painted black, 
 except within about two inches of the edge, which was of bright, 
 polished steel. Placing himself at the bar on the right of the 
 prisoner, he raised the hatchet about as high as his lordship's 
 neck, but with the shining edge averted ; and thus he remained 
 during the whole of the trial. The forms, I understood, pre- 
 scribed that the shining edge should be averted until the pro- 
 nouncing of judgment, when, if it were unfavorable, the blade 
 was instantly to be turned by the executioner toivard the pris- 
 oner, indicating at once his sentence and his fate. 
 
 I could not reconcile my mind to the thought of such a con- 
 
TRIAL OF THE EARL OF KINGSTON. 131 
 
 summation. I knew the late Lord Kingston, and had a high 
 regard for him ; and hence I felt a very uneasy sensation, in- 
 asmuch as I was profoundly ignorant of what would be the ter- 
 mination of the awful scene. 
 
 The usual legal ceremonies were now entered on : the charge 
 was read — the prisoner pleaded not guilty — and the trial pro- 
 ceeded. A proclamation was made (first generally, then name 
 by name) for the witnesses for the prosecution to come forward. 
 It is not easy to describe the anxiety and suspense excited as 
 each name was called over. The eyes of everybody were di- 
 rected to the bar where the witnesses must enter, and every 
 little movement of the persons who thronged it was held to be 
 intended to make room for some accuser. None, however, ap- 
 peared : thrice they were called, but in vain. And it was then 
 announced that " no witnesses appearing to substantiate the 
 charge of murder against Robert, earl of Kingston, the trial 
 should terminate in the accustomed manner." The chancellor 
 proceeded to put the question ; and every peer, according to 
 his rank, arose and deliberately walking by the chair in which 
 the chancellor was seated, placed his hand as he passed solemn- 
 ly on his heart, and repeated, "Not guilty, upon my honor !" 
 (The bishops were, very properly, precluded from voting in 
 these criminal cases.) After all had passed, which ceremony 
 occupied an hour, the chancellor rose and declared the opinion 
 of the peers of Ireland — " That Robert, earl of Kingston, was 
 not guilty of the charge against him." His lordship then broke 
 his wand, descended from his chair, and thus ended the trial — 
 most interesting because it had at once a strong political and 
 constitutional bearing, and affected a nobleman universally be- 
 loved. The result was highly satisfactory to every one who 
 had learned the circumstance which led to the fatal event for 
 which the earl of Kingston was arraigned ; whose conduct, 
 though strictly justifiable neither in law nor morality, might 
 have been adopted by the best of men under similar provoca- 
 tion. 
 
132 THE SEVEN BAEONETS. 
 
 THE SEVEN BAEONETS. 
 
 Sir John Stuart Hamilton — Sir Richard Musgrave — Sir Edward Newnham — Sir Vesey Col- 
 clough — Sir Frederick Flood — Sir John Blncquiere — Sir Boyle Roche : his curious Bulls 
 — Their Characters and Personal Description — Anecdotes and Bon-Mots — Anecdote of 
 the Marquis of Waterlord. 
 
 Among those parliamentary gentlemen frequently to be 
 found in the coffee-room of the house, were certain baronets of 
 very singular character, who, until some division called them 
 to vote, passed the intermediate time in high conviviality. Sir 
 John Stuart Hamilton, a man of small fortune and large stat- 
 ure, possessing a most liberal appetite for both solids and fluids 
 — much wit, more humor, and indefatigable cheerfulness — 
 might be regarded as their leader. 
 
 Sir Richard Musgrave, who (except on the abstract topics of 
 politics, religion, martial law, his wife, the pope, the pretender, 
 the Jesuits, Napper Tandy, and the whipping-post) was gener- 
 ally in his senses, formed, during those intervals, a very enter- 
 taining addition to the company. 
 
 Sir Edward Newnham, member for Dublin county, afforded 
 a whimsical variety of the affectation of early and exclusive 
 transatlantic intelligence. By repeatedly writing letters of con- 
 gratulation, he had at length extorted a reply from General 
 Washington, which he exhibited upon every occasion, giving it. 
 to be understood, by significant nods, that he knew vastly more 
 than he thought proper to communicate. 
 
 Sir Vesey Colclough, member for County Wexford, who un- 
 derstood books and wine better than any of the party, had all 
 his days treated money so extremely ill, that it would continue 
 no longer in his service ! — and the dross (as he termed it) hav- 
 ing entirely forsaken him, he bequeathed an immense landed 
 property, during his life, to the uses of custodiums, digits, and 
 judgments, which never fail to place a gentleman's acres un- 
 der the special guardianship of the attorneys. He was fa- 
 ther to that excellent man, John Colclough, who was killed at 
 
SIR FREDERICK FLOOD. 133 
 
 Wexford, and to the present Csesar Colclough, whose fall might 
 probably have afforded rather less cause of regret. 
 
 Sir Vesey added much to the pleasantry of the party by oc- 
 casionally forcing on them deep subjects of literature, of which 
 few of his companions could make either head or tail : but to 
 avoid the imputation of ignorance, they often gave the most 
 ludicrous proofs of it on literary subjects, geography, and astron- 
 omy, with which he eternally bored them. 
 
 Sir Frederick Flood, also member for County Wexford, whose 
 exhibitions in the imperial parliament have made him tolerably 
 well known in England, was very different in his habits from 
 the last-mentioned baronet ; his love of money and spirit of 
 ostentation never losing their hold throughout every action 
 of his life. He was but a second-rate blunderer in Ireland. 
 The bulls of Sir Boyle Roche (of whom we shall speak here- 
 after) generally involved aphorisms of sound sense, while Sir 
 Frederick's, on the other hand, possessed the qualification of 
 being pure nonsense ! 
 
 He was a pretty, dapper man, very good-tempered ; and had 
 a droll habit, of which he could never effectually break himself 
 (at least in Ireland) : whenever a person at his back whispered, 
 or suggested anything to him while he was speaking in public, 
 without a moment's reflection he almost always involuntarily re- 
 peated the suggestion literatim. 
 
 Sir Frederick was once making a long speech in the Irish 
 parliament, lauding the transcendent merits of the Wexford 
 magistracy, on a motion for extending the criminal jurisdiction 
 in that county, to keep down the disaffected. As he was clo- 
 sing a most turgid oration, by declaring that " the said magis- 
 tracy ought to receive some signal mark of the lord-lieutenant's 
 favor" — John Egan, who was rather mellow, and sitting be- 
 hind him, jocularly whispered, " And be whipped at the cart's 
 tail." — "And be whipped at the cart's tail!" repeated Sir 
 Frederick unconsciously, amid peals of the most uncontrollable 
 laughter. 
 
 Sir John Blacquiere flew at higher game than the other bar- 
 onets, though he occasionally fell into the trammels of Sir John 
 Hamilton. Sir John Blacquiere was a little deaf of one ear, 
 
13i THE SEVEN BARONETS. 
 
 for which circumstance he gave a very singular reason. His 
 seat, when secretary, was the outside one on the treasury-bench, 
 next to a gangway ; and he said that so many members used 
 to come perpetually to whisper to him — and the buzz of im- 
 portunity was so heavy and continuous, that before one claim- 
 ant's words had got out of his ear, the demand of another forced 
 its way in, till the ear-drum, being overcharged, absolutely 
 burst! — which, he said, turned out conveniently enough, as he 
 was then obliged to stuff the organ tight, and tell every gentle- 
 man that his physician had directed him not to use that ear at 
 all, and the other as little as possible ! 
 
 Sir John Stuart Hamilton played him one day, in the corri- 
 dor of the house of commons, a trick which was a source of 
 great entertainment to all parties. Joseph Hughes, a country 
 farmer and neighbor of Sir John Stuart Hamilton, who knew 
 nothing of great men, and (in common with many remote far- 
 mers of that period) had very seldom been in Dublin, was hard 
 pressed to raise some money to pay the fine on a renewal of a 
 bishop's lease — his only property. He came directly to Sir 
 John, who, I believe, had himself drunk the farmer's spring 
 pretty dry, while he could get anything out of it. As they 
 were standing together in one of the corridors of the parliament- 
 house, Sir John Blacquiere stopped to say something to his 
 brother baronet : his star, which he frequently wore on rather 
 shabby coats, struck the farmer's eye, who had never seen such 
 a thing before ; and coupling it with the very black visage of 
 the wearer, and his peculiar appearance altogether, our rustic 
 was induced humbly to ask Sir John Hamilton, " who that man 
 was with a silver sign on his coat 1 ?" 
 
 " Don't you know him ?" cried Sir John ; " why, that is a 
 famous Jew money-broker." 
 
 " May be, please your honor, lie could do my little business 
 for me," responded the honest farmer. 
 
 " Trial's all !" said Sir John. 
 
 " I'll pay well," observed Joseph. 
 
 " That's precisely what he likes," replied the baronet. 
 
 " Pray, Sir John," continued the farmer, " what's those words 
 on his sign V (alluding to the motto on the star). 
 
SIR JOHN BLACQUIERE. 135 
 
 " Oli," answered tlie otlier, " they are Latin, ' Tria juncta in 
 nno.' " 
 
 "And may I crave the English thereof?" asked the unsus- 
 pecting countryman. 
 
 " Three in a bond," said Sir John. 
 
 " Then I can match him, by J — s," exclaimed Hughes. 
 
 " You'll be hard set," cried the malicious baronet ; " however, 
 you may try." 
 
 Hughes then approaching Blacquiere, who had removed but 
 a very small space, told him with great civility and a significant 
 nod, that he had a little matter to mention, which he trusted 
 would be agreeable to both parties. Blacquiere drew him aside 
 and desired him to proceed. " To come to the point then at 
 once," said Hughes, " the money is not to say a great deal, and 
 I can give you three in a bond — myself and two good men as 
 any in Cavan, along with me, I hope that will answer you. 
 Three in a bond ! safe good men." 
 
 Sir John, who wanted a supply himself, had the day before 
 sent to a person who had advertised the lending of money ; and 
 on hearing the above harangue (taking for granted that it re- 
 sulted from his own application), he civilly assured Hughes that 
 a bond would be of no use to him ! good bills might be negoti- 
 ated, or securities turned into cash, though at a loss, but bonds 
 would not answer at all. 
 
 " I think I can get another man, and that's one more than 
 your sign requires," said Hughes. 
 
 " I tell you," repeated Sir John, " bonds will not answer at 
 all. sir!— bills, bills!" 
 
 "Then it's fitter," retorted the incensed farmer, "for you to 
 be after putting your sign there in, your pocket, than wearing 
 it to deceive the Christians, you damned usurer ! you Jew 
 you !" 
 
 Nobody could be more amused by this denouement than Blac- 
 quiere himself, who told everybody he knew, of " Hamilton's 
 trick upon the coimtryman" 
 
 Sir Richard Musgrave, although he understood drawing the 
 long how as well as most people, never patronised it in any 
 other individual. Sir John Hamilton did not spare the exer- 
 
136 THE SEVEN BARONETS. 
 
 cise of this accomplishment in telling a story, one day, in the 
 presence of Sir Richard, who declared his incredulity rather 
 abruptly, as indeed was his constant manner. Sir John was 
 much nettled at the mode in which the other dissented, more 
 particularly as there were some strangers present. He assev- 
 erated the truth on his word : Sir Richard, however, repeating 
 his disbelief, Sir John Hamilton furiously exclaimed — "You 
 say you don't believe my word ?" 
 
 " I can't believe it," replied Sir Richard. 
 
 "Well, then," said Sir John, " if you won't believe my word, 
 by G — d I'll give it you under my hand,'" clenching, at the 
 same moment his great fist. 
 
 The witticism raised a general laugh, in which the parties 
 themselves joined, and in a moment all was good humor. But 
 the company condemned both the offenders — Sir John for tell- 
 ing a lie, and Sir Richard for not believing it, to the payment of 
 two bottles of hock, each. 
 
 Whoever the following story may be fathered on, Sir John 
 Hamilton was certainly its parent. The duke of Rutland, at 
 one of his levees, being at a loss (as probably most kings, 
 princes, and viceroys occasionally are) for something to say to 
 every person he was bound in etiquette to notice, remarked to 
 Sir John Hamilton that there was " a prospect of an excellent 
 crop; the timely rain," observed the duke, "will bring every- 
 thing above ground." 
 
 " God forbid, your excellency !" exclaimed the courtier. 
 
 His excellency stared, while Sir John continued, sighing 
 heavily as he spoke ; " Yes, God forbid ! for I have got three 
 wives under." 
 
 At one of those large convivial parties which distinguished 
 the table of Major Hobart, when he was secretary in Ireland, 
 among the usual loyal toasts, " The wooden walls of England" 
 being given, Sir John Hamilton, in his turn, gave " The wooden 
 walls of Ireland !" This toast being quite new to us all, he was 
 asked for an explanation : upon which,, filling up a bumper, 
 he very gravely stood up, and, bowing to the marquis of 
 Waterford and several country-gentlemen, who commanded 
 county regiments, he said, " My lords and gentlemen ! I have 
 
SIR BOYLE ROCHE. 137 
 
 the pleasure of giving you 'The wooden walls of Ireland' — the 
 colonels of militia /" 
 
 So broad but so good-humored a jeu oV esprit, excited great 
 merriment ; the truth was forgotten in the jocularity, but the 
 epithet did not perish. I saw only one grave countenance in 
 the room, and that belonged to the late marquis of Waterford, 
 who was the proudest egotist I ever met with. He had a tre- 
 mendous squint, nor was there anything prepossessing in the 
 residue of his features to atone for that deformity. Nothing 
 can better exemplify his lordship's opinion of himself and oth- 
 ers, than an observation I heard him make at Lord Portarling- 
 ton's table. Having occasion for a superlative degree of com- 
 parison between two persons, he was at a loss for a climax. 
 At length, however, he luckily hit on one. " That man was," 
 said the marquis, "he was as superior as — as — as — I am to 
 LordEanelah!" 
 
 I will now advert to Sir Boyle Roche, who certainly was, 
 without exception, the most celebrated and entertaining anti- 
 grammarian in the Irish parliament. I knew him intimately. 
 He was of a very respectable Irish family, and in point of ap- 
 pearance, a fine, bluff, soldier-like old gentleman. He had 
 numerous good qualities ; and having been long in the army, 
 his ideas were full of honor and etiquette — of discipline and 
 bravery. He had a claim to the title of Fermoy, which, how- 
 ever, he never pursued ; and was brother to the famous Tiger 
 Roche, who fought some desperate duel abroad, and was near 
 being hanged for it. Sir Boyle was perfectly well bred in all 
 his habits ; had been appointed gentleman-usher at the Irish 
 court, and executed the duties of that office to the day of 
 his death, with the utmost satisfaction to himself, as well as to 
 every one in connection with him. He was married to the 
 eldest daughter of Sir John Cave, Bart. ; and his lady, who 
 was a " bas bleu," prematurely injured Sir Boyle's capacity 
 (it was said) by forcing him to read " Gibbon's Rise and Fall 
 of the Roman Empire," whereat he was so cruelly puzzled 
 without being in the least amused, that in his cups, he often 
 stigmatized the great historian as a low fellow, who ought to 
 have been kicked out of company wherever he was, for turning 
 
13S THE SEVEN BARONETS. 
 
 people's thoughts away from their prayers and their politics to 
 what the devil himself could make neither head nor tail of. 
 
 His perpetually bragging that Sir John Cave had given him 
 his eldest daughter, afforded Curran an opportunity of replying, 
 " Ay, Sir Boyle, and depend on it, if he had had an older one 
 still he would have given her to you." Sir Boyle thought it 
 best to receive the repartee as a compliment, lest it should come 
 to her ladyship's ears, who, for several years back, had pro- 
 hibited Sir Boyle from all allusions to chronology. 
 
 The baronet had certainly one great advantage over all 
 other bull and blunder makers : he seldom launched a blunder 
 from which some fine aphorism or maxim might not be easily 
 extracted. When a debate arose in the Irish house of com- 
 mons on the vote of a grant which was recommended by Sir 
 John Parnel, chancellor of the exchequer, as one not likely to 
 be felt burdensome for many years to come — it was observed 
 in reply, that the house had no just right to load posterity with 
 ^a weighty debt for what could in no degree operate to their ad- 
 * vantage. Sir Boyle eager to defend the measures of govern- 
 ment, immediately rose, and in a very few words, put forward 
 the most unanswerable argument which human ingenuity could 
 possibly devise. "What, Mr. Speaker !" said he, " and so we 
 are to beggar ourselves for fear of vexing posterity ! Now, I 
 would ask the honorable gentleman, and this still more honor- 
 able house, why we should put ourselves out of our way to do 
 anything for posterity : for what has posterity done for us V 
 
 Sir Boyle, hearing the roar of laughter which of course fol- 
 lowed this sensible blunder, but not being conscious that he 
 had said anything out of the way, was rather puzzled, and 
 conceived that the house had misunderstood him. He there- 
 fore begged leave to explain, as he apprehended that gentle- 
 men had entirely mistaken his words : he assured the house 
 that " by posterity, he did not at all mean our ancestors, but 
 those who were to come immediately after them." Upon hear- 
 ing this explanation, it was impossible to do any serious business 
 for half an hour. 
 
 Sir Boyle Roche was induced by government to fight as 
 hard as possible for the union : so he did, and I really believe 
 
SIR BOYLE S CURIOUS BULLS. 139 
 
 fancied, by degrees, that he was right. On one occasion, a 
 general titter arose at his florid picture of the happiness which 
 must proceed from this event. "Gentlemen," said Sir Boyle, 
 " may titther, and titther, and titther, and may think it a bad 
 measure ; but their heads at present are hot, and will so remain 
 till they grow cool again ; and so they can't decide right now ; 
 but when the day of judgment comes, then honorable gentlemen 
 will be satisfied at this most excellent union. Sir, there is no 
 Levitical degrees between nations, and on this occasion I can 
 see neither sin nor shame in marrying our oivn sister." 
 
 He was a determined enemy to the French Revolution, and 
 seldom rose in the house for several years without volunteering 
 some abuse of it. " Mr. Speaker," said he, in a mood of this 
 kind, "if we once permitted the villanous French masons to 
 meddle with the buttresses and walls of our ancient constitu- 
 tion, they would never stop, nor stay, sir, till they brought the 
 foundation-stones tumbling down about the ears of the nation ! 
 There," continued Sir Boyle, placing his hand earnestly on his 
 heart, his powdered head shaking in unison with his loyal zeal, 
 while he described the probable consequences of an invasion of 
 Ireland by the French republicans ; " There, Mr. Speaker ! 
 if those Gallician villains should invade us, sir, 'tis on that very 
 table, may-be, these honorable members might see their own 
 destinies lying in heaps a-top of one another ! Here perhaps, 
 sir, the murderous Marshall law-men (Marseillois) would break 
 in, cut us to mince-meat, and throw our bleeding heads upon 
 that table, to stare us in the face !" 
 
 Sir Boyle, on another occasion, was arguing for the habeas 
 corpus suspension bill in Ireland : " It would surely be better, 
 Mr. Speaker," said he, " to give up not only a part, but, if 
 necessary, even the w7io7e, of our constitution, to preserve the 
 remainder/" 
 
 This baronet having been one of the Irish parliamentary 
 curiosities before the union, I have only exemplified his mode of 
 blundering, as many ridiculous sayings have been attributed to 
 him. He blundered certainly more than any public speaker in 
 Ireland ; but his bulls were rather logical perversions, and had 
 some strong point in most of them. 
 
140 THE SEVEN BARONETS. 
 
 The English people consider a bull as nothing more than 
 a vulgar, nonsensical expression : but Irish blunders are fre- 
 quently humorous hyperboles or oxymorons, and present very 
 often the most energetic mode of expressing the speaker's 
 meaning. 
 
 On the motion to expel Lord Edward Fitzgerald from the 
 house of commons, for hasty disrespectful expressions regarding 
 the house and the lord-lieutenant, it was observable that the 
 motion was violently supported by the younger men then in 
 parliament, including the late marquis of Ormonde, &c. The 
 marquis was, indeed, one of the strongest supporters of a meas- 
 ure the object of which was to disgrace a young nobleman, his 
 own equal : and it was likewise worthy of remark that the 
 motion Avas resisted by the steadiest and oldest members of the 
 house. 
 
 Sir Boyle Roche labored hard and successfully for Lord Ed- 
 ward, who was eventually required to make an apology ; it was 
 not, however, considered sufficiently ample or repentant. Sir 
 Boyle was at his wit's end, and at length produced a natural syl- 
 logism, which, by putting the house in good humor, did more 
 than a host of reasoners could have achieved. " Mr. Speaker," 
 said the baronet, " I think the noble young man has no business 
 to make any apology. He is a gentleman, and none such 
 should be asked to' make an apology, because no gentleman 
 could mean to give offence" 
 
 Dennis M'Carthy, the postillion of Lord Lisle, had an action 
 for crim. con. brought against him by his master, and upon a 
 very forced construction of law in such cases, by the chief 
 baron, the jury found damages for c£5,000 against Dennis. He 
 was of course sent to jail ; and damages to that amount, and of 
 that nature, excluding the debtor from the benefit of the insol- 
 vent act, strong efforts were made in parliament to have Den- 
 nis included especially, by name, in the statute, he having 
 remained ten years in close confinement. His liberation was 
 constantly applied for, and as constantly rejected. Sir Boyle, 
 as a last effort, made a florid speech in his best style on behalf 
 of the poor fellow, arguing truly, that " Lady Lisle, and not 
 Dennis, must have been the real seducer;" and concluding 
 
OFFER OF OFFICE. 141 
 
 thus : — "And what, Mr. Speaker, was this poor servant's crime? 
 after all, sure, Mr. Speaker, it was only doing his master's busi- 
 ness by his mistress's orders : and is it not very hard to keep a 
 poor servant in jail for that which, if he had not done he 
 would have deserved a horsewhipping ?" This way of putting 
 the case had the desired effect : Dennis's name was especially 
 included by the commons ; but in the house of lords it was 
 thrown out by Lord Clonmell, chief-justice, though two years 
 had scarcely elapsed since his lordship himself had fought a 
 duel with the late Lord Tyrawley for crim. con. Avith her lady- 
 ship. 
 
 Never was there a more sensible blunder than the following. 
 We recommend it as a motto to gentlemen in the army. 
 " The best way," said Sir Boyle, " to avoid danger, is to meet it 
 plumb" 
 
 ENTRANCE INTO OFFICE. 
 
 The Author first placed in Office by Lord Westmoreland — Made King's Counsel by Lord 
 Clare — Jealousy ol' the Bar — Description of Kilkenny Castle — Trial of the Earl of Or- 
 monde for Outrage at Kilkenny — Acquitted — Author's Conduct — Distinguished and 
 Liberal Present from the Earl of Ormonde to the Author, of a Gold Box, and his Subse- 
 quent Letter. 
 
 In December, 1793, the secretary Lord Buckinghamshire, 
 wrote to say that he wished to see me at the castle. I imme- 
 diately attended, when he said, " Barrington, I am about to 
 depart from Ireland : and," continued he, after my sincere 
 expressions of regret, " as you have heretofore had nothing 
 from us but convivial intercourse, it is just you should now 
 have fare somewhat more substantial ; with the approbation 
 of the lord-lieutenant, therefore, I have managed to secure for 
 you a very handsome office — the ships' entries of the port of 
 Dublin." 
 
 At the name and nature of this office I rather demurred ; 
 whereupon Lord Buckinghamshire smiled and said, " You have 
 no objection to a good sinecure, I suppose, the emoluments 
 
142 ENTRANCE INTO OFFICE. 
 
 payable every Sunday morning by the deputy : the place was 
 lately held by Mr. George Ponsonby, and is at this moment 
 enjoyed by Serjeant Coppinger ; but I have negotiated to give 
 him, his son, and his wife, an annuity of eight hundred pounds 
 a year, to resign it to you." 
 
 This, so far, was agreeable : but still professional advance- 
 ment being the object next my heart, I neither felt nor looked 
 totally satisfied. 
 
 Lord B then said, " You are a grumbling fellow : but I 
 
 anticipated your grumbling, and the lord-chancellor (Lord 
 Clare) has consented to your being at the same time appointed 
 one of the king's counsel, thus at once giving you a step over 
 the heads of all your circuit seniors, except Sir Frederick Flood, 
 who is not, I fancy, very formidable." 
 
 This arrangement altogether met my wishes. I hastened to 
 Lords Westmoreland and Clare, to thank them most cordially ; 
 and the fifth year after becoming a barrister, I found myself 
 at the head of my circuit, and high up in the official rank of 
 my profession. Practice generally follows the fortunate : I 
 was immediately considered as on the high-road of preferment ; 
 the attorneys pursued me like a flock of rooks ! and my busi- 
 ness was quadrupled. 
 
 I purchased a fine house in Merrion square, from Mr. Robert 
 Johnson, then counsel to the revenue (afterward judge), who 
 at that period felt himself going down hill, and here I launched 
 into an absolute press of business ; perhaps justly acquiring 
 thereby the jealousy of many of my seniors. This jealousy, 
 however, gave rise to one of the most gratifying incidents of 
 my life. 
 
 John, earl of Ormonde, resided, like a true Irish nobleman, 
 in the utmost splendor and hospitality in his fine ancient castle 
 at Kilkenny. He scarcely ever went even to the Irish me- 
 tropolis — his entire fortune being expended in his own city ; 
 whereby every shopkeeper and trader experienced the advan- 
 tages of his lordship's residence. His establishment was am- 
 ple — his table profuse — his friendship warm and unbounded. 
 The very appearance of his castle (though only a portion of 
 the old duke's) was still such as to remind the spectator of its 
 
KILKENNY CASTLE EARL OF ORMONDE. 143 
 
 former magnificence. Proudly towering over the river Nore, 
 from which it was separated only by the public walk, a high 
 and grand rampart on that side conveyed the idea at once of 
 a palace and a fortress ; while toward the city an old princely 
 portal, flanked by round towers, opened into a spacious court, 
 within which were preserved two sides of the original edifice, 
 and a third was, at the period I allude to, rebuilding in a style, 
 however, far too modern and ordinary. The exterior mould- 
 ings of the castle exhibited the remains of the gilding which 
 had formerly been laid on with a lavish hand. 
 
 The interior of this noble edifice, with the exception of one 
 saloon and the picture-gallery, was not calculated to satisfy 
 expectation : but both those were unique — the one with respect 
 to its form, the other to its prospects. The grand saloon was 
 not shaped like any other, I believe, existing, oval in its figure 
 and not large ; but the wall, twelve feet thick, admitted of 
 recesses on the sides, which had the appearance of small rooms, 
 each being terminated by a large window, and the sides cov- 
 ered with mirrors, which reflected the beautiful and varied 
 prospects of city, country, wood, river, and public promenade. 
 When I was at the castle, in fact, everything appeared to me 
 delightful. 
 
 Walter, the late marquis of Ormonde, though my junior in 
 years, had been my intimate friend and companion ; as was 
 also his cousin, Bryan Cavanagh. Lady Ormonde, mother of 
 Walter, was the only child of Earl Winderford, and, as lady 
 of the castle, was careful to keep up at least her due impor- 
 tance. It is not impossible for women or men either to mistake 
 pomposity for dignity. True pride is accompanied by an amia- 
 ble condescension : cold, unbending ceremony is the result of 
 false pride, and not of dignity. I thought (perhaps erroneous- 
 ly) that her ladyship made this mistake. 
 
 The Earl John, my friend's father, was rather in the oppo- 
 site extreme. He was well read and friendly — a hard-goer 
 (as it was called) and an incessant talker. His lordship occa- 
 sionally adjourned to a kind of tavern in the city, of which a 
 certain widow Madden was the hostess, and where one Mr. 
 Evans, surnamed " Hellcat," together with the best boozers 
 
144: ENTRANCE INTO OFFICE. 
 
 and other gentlemen of Kilkenny, assembled to amuse liis 
 lordship by their jests and warm punch, and to emulate each 
 other in the devouring of oysters and lobsters — the best which 
 could possibly be procured. Hither, in fact, the company from 
 the castle were habituated often to repair. 
 
 These boozing-matches sometimes proceeded rather too far ; 
 and, one night Mr. Duffy, a sharp, smart, independent-minded 
 apothecary of Kilkenny, who had offended the Ormonde family 
 on some very sensitive point, being alluded to, a member of 
 the party, with more zeal than prudence, proposed as a toast, 
 " a round of rascals !" taking care to designate Doctor Duffy 
 as belonging to that honorable fraternity. On departing from 
 the tavern, far more full of liquor than wit, some wild young 
 man in company suggested the demolition of the doctor's win- 
 dows : no sooner said than done ! the piper played, the stones 
 flew, and Duffy's shivered panes bore ample testimony to the 
 strength of the widow's beverage. No personal injury, how- 
 ever, ensued, and the affair appeared to have terminated. 
 
 A glazier was sent early next morning, by command of my 
 lord, to repair the windows ; but this the doctor refused to al- 
 low, and in due form applied for and obtained a criminal infor- 
 mation in the king's bench for the outrage against Lord Or- 
 monde, his son Walter, James the present marquis, Lord 
 Thurles, and others. The information was, in due legal form, 
 sent down to be tried at the spring assizes, very soon after I 
 had been appointed king's counsel. 
 
 None felt more jealousy at my promotion than Mr. "William 
 Fletcher (since judge of the common pleas), many years my 
 senior at the bar and on circuit. Lord Ormonde directed briefs 
 to be sent to me and to Fletcher, with fees of fifteen guineas 
 each. I never loved money much in my life, and therefore 
 thought it quite enough ; or rather, I did not think about it. 
 
 The defendant's case fell, of course, to me, as leading coun- 
 sel. At this circumstance, Fletcher felt sore and ran sulky — 
 and the sulkier he got, the more zealous became I. We had 
 but a bad case of it. The cross-examination of the irritated 
 apothecary, who grew after a while, quite ferocious, fell to my 
 lot. I performed my duty, and it then devolved on Fletcher 
 
DEFENCE OF ORMONDE A TESTIMONIAL. 145 
 
 to speak to the evidence. This, however, he declined. I 
 pressed him, but be peremptorily refused. I exclaimed, " Nay, 
 Fletcher, you took a fee — why not speak?" — "Yes," an- 
 swered the angry barrister, "just enough to make me hold my 
 tongue!" — "Do speak," persisted I. "I icorft" replied he. 
 " Then I must do it for you," was my rejoinder. My zeal was 
 enkindled — my mind A^as on iire — and I felt myself in ear- 
 nest and interested. I persevered till I saw the jury smile, 
 for which purpose they only wanted a good pretence. I held 
 on my course till I saw them pleased ; and the result was, an 
 acquittal of Lord Ormonde, and a conviction of all the others. 
 
 To his lordship this acquittal was invaluable. The convic- 
 tion of the earl of Ormonde for a nocturnal outrage in his own 
 town, and his committal from his castle to a prison, to undergo 
 the award of the law, would have been to him a source of the 
 utmost dismay. I knew this, and acted accordingly. He had 
 heard of the conversation between Fletcher and me ; but he 
 thanked both without distinction, and made no partial remarks. 
 I was hurt for a moment at this apparent neglect, but thought 
 of it no longer, and his lordship never mentioned the circum- 
 stance. 
 
 On the ensuing summer assizes, Lord Ormonde invited the 
 judges, barristers, several of the grand-jury, and the principal 
 gentlemen of the county, to a magnificent dinner at the castle. 
 It was a long table, and everything in the grandest style. A 
 judge sat on each side of Lady Ormonde, at the head, and 
 Fletcher and myself were their next neighbors. After the 
 cloth had been removed, and Lady Ormonde was retired, his 
 lordship stood up, and in a loud voice said : " I have waited 
 with impatience for this public opportunity of expressing to 
 Mr. Barrington the high sense I entertain of his important and 
 disinterested services to me at the last assizes. I now beg his 
 acceptance of a small testimonial of my gratitude and friend- 
 ship." And he immediately slid along the table a magnificent 
 gold snuff-box, with his arms, &c, and the following inscription : 
 
 "A Token of Friendship and Gratitude from the Earl of Ormonde and 
 Ossory to Jonah Barrington, Esq., one of His Majesty's Counsel- at-Law. 
 August, 1194." 
 
146 ENTRANCE INTO OFFICE. 
 
 I was utterly astonished by this distinguished and most un- 
 expected favor conferred in so public and honorable a manner ; 
 and involuntarily, without a moment's thought (but certainly 
 with the appearance of ill-nature), I triumphantly handed round 
 the box for the inspection of my brother-barristers. Fletcher, 
 confused, as might be supposed, slightly shoved it back to me. 
 His conduct on the trial having been known, a sensation be- 
 came visible among the company, which I would almost have 
 given up the box to have avoided exciting. His countenance, 
 however, though not usually subject to be much impressed by 
 kind feelings, clearly acquitted me of any intentional insult : 
 in truth, I really felt as much as he did, when I perceived my 
 error, and wished to pocket the prize without its creating fur- 
 ther notice. But this was impossible : I was obliged to return 
 thanks, which ceremony I went through very badly. Fletcher 
 did not remain long, and I also adjourned at an early hour to 
 the bar-room, where the incident had preceded me. I now 
 tried my best to put all parties into good-humor, and finished 
 the night by a much deeper stoup of wine than I should have 
 indulged in at Lord Ormonde's. 
 
 Next morning I found a billet from the earl, enveloping a 
 bank-note for one hundred pounds, with these words : — 
 
 " Dear Sir : My attorney did not do you justice. You will 
 permit me to be my own attorney on this occasion. 
 
 " Your friend and humble servant, 
 
 " Ormonde and Ossory." 
 
 From that time to the day of his lordship's death, I experi- 
 enced from him, on every occasion within his reach, the utmost 
 extent of kindness, civility, and friendship. His successor, 
 with whom I had been so long and so very intimately ac- 
 quainted, was whirled at an early age into the vortex of fash- 
 ionable life and profligacy. Having lost his best guide and 
 truest friend, his cousin Brian Cavanagh, many of his naturally 
 fine qualities were either blunted by dissipation, or absorbed 
 in the licentious influence of a fashionable connection. Thus 
 he became lost to himself and to many of those friends who 
 had most truly valued him. 
 
THE MARQUIS OF ORMONDE. 147 
 
 I have mentioned Walter, marquis of Ormonde, the more 
 particularly, because, extraordinary as it may appear, it cer- 
 tainly was to a fatal connection of his (where I am sure he 
 had not been the seducer) that I owe several of the most pain- 
 ful and injurious events of my life. Of the existence of this 
 connection I had irrefragable proof; and of its having operated 
 as a bar to the chief objects of my life and ambition, I have 
 equal reason to feel convinced. 
 
 His lordship married his own god-daughter, but too late to 
 give a chance for reformation; and never have I remarked, 
 through the course of a long, observing life, any progress more 
 complete from the natural levities of youth to the confirmed 
 habits of dissipation, from the first order of early talent to the 
 humblest state of premature imbecility, than that of the late 
 marquis of Ormonde ! — who had, at one period of our intimacy, 
 as engaging a person, as many manly qualities, and to the full 
 as much intellectual promise, as any young man of his country. 
 
 DR. AOHMET BORUMBORAD. 
 
 Singular Anecdotes of Dr. Achmet Borumborad — He proposes to erect Baths in Dublin, in 
 the Turkish 'Fashion — Obtains Giants from Parliament for that Purpose — The Baths well 
 executed — The Doctor's Banquet — Ludicrous Anecdote of Nineteen Noblemen and Mem- 
 bers of Parliament falling into his Grand Salt-Water Bath — The Accideat nearly causes 
 the Ruin of the Doctor and bis Establishment — He falls in Love with Miss Hartigan, and 
 marries her — Sudden Metamorphosis of the Turk into Mr. Patrick Joyce. 
 
 Until England dragged the sister-kingdom with herself into 
 the ruinous expenses of the American war, Ireland owed no 
 public debt. There were no taxes, save local ones : the par- 
 liament, being composed of resident gentlemen, interested in 
 the prosperity and welfare of their country, was profuse in pro- 
 moting all useful schemes ; and no projector, who could show 
 any reasonable grounds for seeking assistance, had difficulty 
 in finding a patron. On these points, indeed, the gentlemen 
 who possessed influence were often unguarded, and sometimes 
 extravagant. 
 
 Among other projectors whose ingenuity was excited by this 
 
148 DK. ACHMET BOKUMBORAD. 
 
 liberal conduct, was one of a very singular description — a Turk 
 who had come over, or (as the ondit went) had fled from Con- 
 stantinople. He proposed to establish, what was greatly wanted 
 at that time in the Irish metropolis, " hot and cold sea-water 
 baths ;" and by way of advancing his pretensions to public en- 
 couragement, offered to open free baths for the poor, on an ex- 
 tensive plan — giving them, as a doctor, attendance and advice 
 gratis, every day in the year. He spoke English very intelli- 
 gibly. His person was extremely remarkable ; and the more 
 so, as he was the first Turk who had ever walked the streets 
 of Dublin in his native costume. He was in height considera- 
 bly above six feet, rather pompous in his gait, and apparently 
 powerful ; an immense black beard covering his chin and up- 
 per lip. There was, at the same time, something cheerful and 
 cordial in the man's address ; and altogether he cut a very 
 imposing figure. Everybody liked Doctor Achmet Borumbo- 
 rad : his Turkish dress, being extremely handsome, without 
 any approach to the tawdry, and crowned with an immense 
 turban, drew the eyes of every passer-by ; and I must say that 
 I have never myself seen a more stately -looking Turk since 
 that period. 
 
 The eccentricity of the doctor's appearance was, indeed, as 
 will be readily imagined, the occasion of much idle observation 
 and conjecture. At first, whenever he went abroad, a crowd 
 of people, chiefly boys, was sure to attend him — but at a re- 
 spectful distance; and if he turned to look behind him, the 
 gaping boobies fled, as if they conceived even his looks to be 
 mortal. These fears, however, gradually wore away, and were 
 entirely shaken off, on the fact being made public that he 
 meant to attend the poor : which undertaking was, in the usual 
 spirit of exaggeration, soon construed into an engagement en 
 
 tr 
 
 the part of the doctor to cure all disorders wliatevcr / and hence 
 he quickly became as much admired and respected as he had 
 previously been dreaded. 
 
 My fair readers will perhaps smile when I assuse them that 
 the persons who seemed to have the least apprehension of Doc- 
 tor Borumborad, or rather to think him "a very nice Turk!" 
 were the ladies of the metropolis. Many a smart, snug little 
 
TURKISH BATHS IN DUBLIN. 149 
 
 husband, who had been heretofore considered " quite the thing" 
 — despotic in his own house, and peremptory commandant of 
 his own family — was noAv regarded as a wretched, contempti- 
 ble, close-shaven pigmy, in comparison with the immensity of 
 the doctor's figure and whiskers ; and, what is more extraordi- 
 nary, his good-humor and engaging manners gained him many 
 friends even among the husbands themselves! — he thus be- 
 coming, in a shorter period than could be imagined, a particu- 
 lar favorite with the entire city, male and female. 
 
 Doctor Achmet Borumborad, having obtained footing thus 
 far, next succeeded surprisingly in making his way among the 
 members of parliament. He was full of conversation, yet knew 
 his proper distance ; pregnant with anecdote, but discreet in 
 its expenditure ; and he had the peculiar talent of being hum- 
 ble without the apj)earance of humility. A submissive Turk 
 would have been out of character, and a haughty one excluded 
 from society. The doctor was aware of this, and regulated his 
 demeanor with remarkable skill upon every occasion (and they 
 were numerous) whereon (as a lion) he was invited to the tables 
 of the great. By this line of conduct, he managed to warm 
 those who patronized him into becoming violent partisans ; and, 
 accordingly, little or no difficulty was experienced in getting a 
 grant from parliament for a sufficient fund to commence his 
 great metropolitan undertaking. 
 
 Baths were now planned after Turkish models. The money 
 voted was most faithfully appropriated ; and a more ingenious 
 or useful establishment could not be formed in any metropolis. 
 But the cash, it was soon discovered, ran too short to enable 
 the doctor to complete his scheme ; and on the ensuing session 
 a further vote became necessary, which was by no means op- 
 posed, as the institution was good, fairly executed, and chari- 
 tably applied. The worthy doctor kept his ground ; session 
 after session he petitioned for fresh assistance, and never met 
 with refusal. His profits were good, and he lived well, while 
 the baths proved of the utmost benefit, and the poor received 
 attention and service from his establishment without cost. An 
 immense cold bath was constructed, to communicate with the 
 river : it was large and deep, and entirely renewed every tide. 
 
150 BE. ACHMET BORI1MBOEAD. 
 
 The neatest lodging-rooms, for tliose patients who chose to re- 
 main during a course of bathing, were added to the establish- 
 ment, and always occupied. In short, the whole affair became 
 so popular, and Doctor Achmet acquired so many friends, that 
 the annual grants of parliament were considered nearly as mat- 
 ters of course. 
 
 But, alas ! fortune is treacherous, and prosperity unstable. 
 While the ingenious Borumborad was thus rapidly nourishing, 
 an unlucky though most ludicrous incident threw the poor fel- 
 low completely aback, and, without any fault on his part, nearly 
 ruined both himself and his institution. 
 
 Preparatory to every session, it was the doctor's invariable 
 custom to give a grand dinner, at the baths, to a large number 
 of his patrons, members of parliament, who were in the habit 
 of proposing and supporting his grants. He always, on these 
 occasions, procured some professional singers, as well as the 
 finest wines in Ireland ; endeavoring to render the parties as 
 joyous and convivial as possible. Some nobleman, or com- 
 moner of note, always acted for him as chairman, the doctor 
 himself being quite unassuming. 
 
 At the last commencement of a session, whereupon he anti- 
 cipated this patronage, it was intended to increase his grant, 
 in order to meet the expenses of certain new Avorks, &c, which 
 he had executed on the strength of the ensuing supply ; and 
 the doctor had invited nearly thirty of the leading members 
 to a grand dinner in his spacious saloon. The singers were of 
 the first order ; the claret and champagne excellent ; and never 
 was the Turk's hospitality shown off to better advantage, or 
 the appetites of his guests administered to with greater success. 
 The effects of the wine, as usual on all such meetings in Ire- 
 land, began to grow obvious. The elder and more discreet 
 members were for adjourning ; while the juveniles declared 
 they would stay for another dozen ! — and Doctor Borumborad 
 accordingly went down himself to his cellar, to select and send 
 up a choice dozen by way of bonne bouche for finishing the re- 
 fractory members of parliament. 
 
 In his absence, Sir John Stuart Hamilton, though a very dry 
 member, took it into his head that he had taken enough, and 
 
THE SWIMMING-MATCH. 151 
 
 rose to go away, as is customary in these days of freedom when 
 people are so circumstanced : but at that period men were not 
 always their own masters on such occasions, and a general cry 
 arose of — " Stop, Sir John ! — stop him ! — the bonne bouche ! 
 the bonne bouche /" The carousers were on the alert instantly. 
 Sir John opened the door and rushed out ; the ante-chamber 
 was not lighted ; some one or two-and-twenty stanch members 
 stuck to his skirts ; when splash at once comes Sir John, not 
 into the street, but into the great cold bath, the door of which 
 he had retreated by, in mistake ! The other parliament-men 
 were too close upon the baronet to stop short (like the horse of 
 a Cossack) : in they went, by fours and fives ; and one or two, 
 who, hearing the splashing of the water, cunningly threw them- 
 selves down on the brink to avoid popping in, operated directly 
 as stumbling-blocks to those behind, who thus obtained their 
 full share of bonne bouche none of the parties had bargained for. 
 
 When Doctor Borumborad re-entered, ushering a couple of 
 servants laden with a dozen of his best wine, and missed all 
 his company, he thought some devil had carried them off; but 
 perceiving the door of his noble, deep, cold, salt-water bath 
 open, he with dismay rushed thither, and espied eighteen or 
 nineteen Irish parliament-men either floating like so many 
 corks upon the surface, or scrambling to get out like mice who 
 had fallen into a basin ! The doctor's posse of attendants were 
 immediately set at work, and every one of the honorable mem- 
 bers extricated. The quantity of salt water, however, which 
 had made its way into their stomachs, was not so easily re- 
 moved, and most of them carried the beverage home to their 
 own bedchambers. 
 
 It was unlucky, also, that as the doctor was a Turk, he had 
 no Christian wardrobe to substitute for the well-soaked gar- 
 ments of the honorable members. Such dresses, however, as 
 he had, were speedily put into requisition ; the bathing-attend- 
 ants furnished their quota of dry apparel ; and all was speedily 
 distributed among the swimmers, some of whom exhibited in 
 Turkish costume, others in bathing-shifts ; and when the clothes 
 failed, blankets were pinned round the rest. Large fires were 
 made in every room ; brandy and mulled wine liberally resorted 
 
152 HE. ACIIMKT BORUMBOKAD. 
 
 to ; and as fast as sedan-chairs could be procured, the Irish 
 commoners were sent home, cursing all Turks and infidels, and 
 denouncing a crusade against anything coming from the same 
 quarter of the globe as Constantinople ! 
 
 Poor Doctor Achmet Borumborad was distracted and quite 
 inconsolable ! Next day he duly visited every suffering mem- 
 ber, and though well received, was acute enough to see that the 
 ridicule with which they had covered themselves, was likely 
 to work out eventually his ruin. His anticipations were well- 
 founded : though the members sought to hush up the ridiculous 
 parts of the story, they became, from that very attempt, still 
 more celebrated. In fact, it was too good a joke to escape the 
 embellishments of Irish humor ; and the statement universally 
 circulated was, that " Doctor Borumborad had nearly drowned 
 nineteen members of parliament, because they would not 
 promise to vote for him !" 
 
 The poor doctor was now assailed in every way. Among 
 other things, it was asserted that he was the Turk who had 
 strangled the Christians in the Seven Towers at Constantino- 
 ple ! Though everybody laughed at their own inventions, they 
 believed those of other people, and the conclusion was, that no 
 more grants could be proposed, since not a single member was 
 stout enough to mention the name of Borumborad ! the laugh, 
 indeed, would have overwhelmed the best speech ever delivered 
 in the Irish parliament. 
 
 Still, the new works must be paid for, although no convenient 
 vote came to make the necessary provision : the poor doctor 
 was therefore cramped a little ; but notwithstanding his em- 
 barrassment, he kept his ground well, and lost no private friends 
 except such as the wearing off of novelty estranged. He con- 
 tinued to get on, and at length a new circumstance intervened 
 to restore his happiness, in a way as little to be anticipated by 
 the reader as was his previous discomfiture. 
 
 Love had actually seized upon the Turk above two years 
 before the accident Ave have been recording. A respectable 
 surgeon of Dublin, of the name of Hartigan, had what might 
 be termed a very "neat" sister, and this lady had made a last- 
 ing impression on the heart of Borumborad, who had no reason 
 
A SUDDEN METAMORPHOSIS. 153 
 
 to complain of his suit being* treated with disdain or even in- 
 difference. On the contrary, Miss H. liked the doctor vastly 
 and praised the Turks in general, both for their dashing spirit 
 and their beautiful whiskers. It was not, however, consistent 
 either with her own or her brother's Christianity, to submit to 
 the doctor's tremendous beard, or think of matrimony till " he 
 had shaved the chin, at least, and got a parson to turn him into 
 a Christian or something of that kind." Upon those terms 
 only would she surrender her charms and her money — for 
 some she had — to Doctor Aclimet Borumborad, however 
 amiable. 
 
 The doctor's courtship with the members of parliament 
 having now terminated, so far at any rate as farther grants 
 were concerned, and a grant of a much more tender nature 
 being now within his reach, he began seriously to consider if 
 he should not at once capitulate to Miss H., and exchange his 
 beard and his Alcoran for a razor and New Testament. After 
 weighing matters deliberately, love prevailed, and he intimated 
 by letter, in the proper vehemence of Asiatic passion, his de- 
 termination to turn Christian, discard his beard, and, throwing 
 himself at the feet of his beloved, vow eternal fidelity to her 
 in the holy bands of matrimony. He concluded by requesting 
 an interview in the presence of the young lady's confidant, a 
 Miss Owen, who resided next door. His request was granted, 
 and he repeated his proposal, which was duly accepted, Miss 
 Hartigan stipulating that he should never see her again until 
 the double promise in his letter was fully redeemed ; upon 
 which he might mention his own day for the ceremony. The 
 doctor having engaged to comply, took leave. 
 
 On the evening of the same day, a gentleman was announced 
 to the bride-elect, with a message from Doctor Achmet Borum- 
 borad. Her confidential neighbor was immediately summoned, 
 the gentleman waiting meantime in a coach at the door. At 
 length Miss Hartigan and her friend being ready to receive 
 him, in walked a Christian gallant, in a suit of full-dress black, 
 and a very tall, fine-looking Christian he was ! Miss H. was 
 surprised ; she did not recognise her lover, particularly as she 
 
 thought it impossible he could have been made a Christian 
 
 7# 
 
154: PR. ACI1MET BOKUMBOEL^D. 
 
 before the ensuing Sunday. He immediately, however, fell on 
 his knees, seized and kissed her lily hand, and on her beginning 
 to expostulate, cried out at once, " Don't be angry, my dear 
 creature ! to tell the honest truth, I am as good a Christian as 
 the archbishop ; I'm your own countryman, sure enough ! Mr. 
 Patrick Joyce from Kilkenny county ; the devil a Turk, any 
 more than yourself, my sweet angel !" The ladies were as- 
 tonished, but astonishment did not prevent Miss Hartigan from 
 keeping her word, and Mr. and Mrs. Joyce became a very 
 lovely and happy couple. 
 
 The doctor's great skill, however, was supposed to lie in his 
 beard and faith ; consequently, on this denouement, the baths 
 declined. But the honest fellow never had done any discredit- 
 able or improper act ; none indeed was ever laid to his charge : 
 he fully performed every engagement with the parliament Avhile 
 he retained the power to do so. 
 
 His beauty and portly appearance were considerably dimin- 
 ished by his change of garb. The long beard and picturesque 
 dress had been half the battle ; and he was, after his transfor- 
 mation, but a plain, rather coarse, but still brave-looking fellow. 
 An old memorandum-book reminded me of these circumstances, 
 as it noted a payment made to him by me on behalf of my 
 elder brother, who had been lodging in the bath-house at the 
 time of the swimming match. 
 
 I regret that I never inquired as to Joyce's subsequent 
 career, nor can I say whether he is or not still in the land of 
 the living. This little story shows the facility with which 
 public money was formerly voted, and at the same time the 
 comparatively fortunate financial state of Ireland at that period, 
 when the public purse could afford a multiplicity of such sup- 
 plies without any tax or imposition whatsoever being laid upon 
 the people to provide for them ! How very different were the 
 measures of that parliament even ten years afterward ! 
 
INSTITUTION OF ORANGEMEN. 155 
 
 ALDERMEN OF SKINNERS' ALLEY. 
 
 The Institution of Orangemen — United Irishmen — Protestant Ascendency — Dr. Duigenan 
 — Origin, Progress, and Customs of the Aldermen of Skinners' Alley described — Their 
 Revels — Orange Toast, never before published — The Aldermen throw Mr. M'Mahon, an 
 Apothecary, out o f a Window for Striking the Bust of King William — New Association 
 — Anecdotes of Sir John Bourke and Sir Francis Gould — The Pope's Bull of Absolution to 
 Sir Francis G. — Its Delivery suspended till he had taken away his Landlady's Daughter 
 — His Death. 
 
 Orange societies, as they are termed, were first formed by 
 the protestants to oppose and counteract the turbulent demon- 
 strations of the catholics, who formed the population of the 
 south of Ireland. But at their commencement, the Orangemen 
 certainly adopted a principle of interference which was not 
 confined to religious points alone, but went to put down all 
 popular insurrections which might arise on any point. The 
 term protcstant ascendency, was coined by Mr. John Gifford (of 
 whom more hereafter), and became an epithet very fatal to the 
 peace of Ireland. Many associations indeed were, from time 
 to time, originated : some for reform, others to oppose it : some 
 for toleration, others for intolerance ! There were good men 
 and loyal subjects among the members of each, including 
 many who never entertained the most distant idea of those 
 disastrous results to be apprehended, at the feverish period pre- 
 ceding the revolution of 1798, from any encouragement to 
 innovation. 
 
 I followed up the principles my family had invariably pur- 
 sued from their first settlement in Ireland ; namely, an attach- 
 ment divided between the crown and the people. In the year 
 1795, I saw that the people were likely to grow too strong for 
 the crown; and therefore became at once, not indeed an ultra, 
 but one in whom loyalty absorbed almost every other considera- 
 tion. I willingly united in every effort to check the rising 
 spirit of popular disaffection — the dreadful results of which 
 were manifested in the atrocities acting throughout France, and 
 in the tottering state of the crowns of Europe. 
 
 I had been previously initiated by my friend, Dr. Duigenan, 
 judge of the prerogative court, into a very curious but most 
 
156 al;)l;ilmkx of skinners' alley. 
 
 loyal society, whereof he was grand-master at the time of my 
 election ; and as this clnb differed essentially from any other 
 in the empire, it may be amusing to describe it — a labor which 
 nobody has hitherto, I believe, undertaken. 
 
 This curious assemblage was called " The Aldermen of Skin- 
 ners' Alley :" it was the first Orange association ever formed ; 
 and having, at the period alluded to, existed a full century in 
 pristine vigor, it had acquired considerable local influence 
 and importance. Its origin was as follows : after William 
 III. had mounted the English throne, and King James had 
 assumed the reins of government in Ireland, the latter mon- 
 arch annulled the then existing charter of the Dublin corpo- 
 ration, dismissed all the aldermen who had espoused the revo- 
 lutionary cause, and replaced them by others attached to 
 himself. In doing this he was certainly justifiable ; the deposed 
 aldermen, however, had secreted some little articles of their 
 paraphernalia, and privately assembled in an ale-house in 
 Skinners' alley, a very obscure part of the capital : here they 
 continued to hold anti-Jacobite meetings ; elected their own 
 lord-mayor and officers ; and got a marble bust of King Wil- 
 liam, which they regarded as a sort of deity ! These meetings 
 were carried on till the battle of the Boyne put William in 
 possession of Dublin, when King James's aldermen were im- 
 mediately cashiered, and the Aldermen of Skinners' Alley rein- 
 vested with their mace and aldermanic glories. 
 
 To honor the memory of their restorer, therefore, a perma- 
 nent association was formed, and invested with all the memo- 
 rials of their former disgrace and latter reinstatement. This 
 organization, constituted near a century before, remained, I 
 fancy, quite unaltered at the time I became a member. To 
 make the general influence of this association the greater, 
 the number of members was unlimited, and the mode of admis- 
 sion solely by the proposal and seconding of tried aldermen. 
 For the same reason, no class, however humble, was excluded 
 t— equality reigning in its most perfect state at the assemblies. 
 Generals and wig-makers— king's counsel and hackney clerks, 
 &c, all mingled without distinction as brother-aldermen : a 
 lord-mayor was annually appointed ; and regularity and decorum 
 
THE OJRANGE TOAST. 157 
 
 alwa}^s prevailed — until, at least, toward the conclusion of the 
 meetings, when the aldermen became more than usually noisy 
 and exhilarated — King William's bust being placed in the 
 centre of the supper table, to overlook their extreme loyalty. 
 The times of meeting were monthly : and every member paid 
 sixpence per month, which sum (allowing for the absentees) 
 afforded plenty of eatables, porter and punch, for the supping 
 aldermen. 
 
 Their charter-dish was sheep's trotters (in allusion to King 
 James's running away from Dublin) : rum-punch in blue jugs, 
 whiskey-punch in white ones, and porter in its peivter, were 
 scattered plentifully over the table ; and all regular formali- 
 ties being gone through, and the eating part of the ceremony 
 ended, the real business began by a general chorus of " God 
 save the King !" whereupon the grand engine, which, as a 
 loyal and facetious shoemaker observed, would hind every sole 
 of them together, and commemorate them all till the end of 
 time, was set at work by order of the lord-mayor. This engine 
 was the charter-toast, always given with nine times nine ! and 
 duly succeeded by vociferous acclamations. 
 
 The 1st of July (anniversary of the battle of the Boyne) 
 was the favorite night of assembly : then every man unbut- 
 toned the knees of his breeches, and drank the toast on his 
 bare joints — it being pronounced by his lordship in the follow- 
 ing words, composed expressly for the purpose in the year 
 1689 ; afterward adopted by the Orange societies generally ; 
 and still, I believe, considered as the charter-toast of them all. 
 
 This most ancient and unparalleled sentiment runs thus : — 
 
 ORANGE TOAST. 
 
 "The glorious — pious — and immortal memory of the great 
 and good King William : not forgetting Oliver Cromwell, who 
 assisted in redeeming us from popery, slavery, arbitrary power, 
 brass-money, and wooden shoes. May we never want a Wil- 
 liamite to kick the * * * * of a Jacobite ! — and a * * * * for 
 the bishop of Cork ! And he that won't drink this, whether 
 he be priest, bishop, deacon, bellows-blower, grave-digger, or 
 any other of the fraternity of the clergy ; may a north wind 
 
158 ALDERMEN OF SKINNERS' ALLEY. 
 
 blow liini to the south, and a west wind blow him to the east ! 
 May he have a dark night — a lee shore, a rank storm, and a 
 leaky vessel, to carry him over the river Styx ! May the dog 
 Cerberus make a meal of his r — p, and Pluto a snuff-box of 
 his skull ; and may the devil jump down his throat with a red- 
 hot harrow, with every pin tear out a gut, and blow him with 
 a clean carcase to hell ! Amen. 
 
 The extraordinary zeal wherewith this toast was drunk, 
 could only be equalled by the enthusiasm with which the blue 
 and white jugs and pewter pots were resorted to, to ascertain 
 the quality of the potation within : both processes serving to 
 indicate the quantity of loyalty entertained by every alderman 
 toward the king, Doctor Duigenan, and the protestant religion ! 
 they then rebuttoned the knees of their breeches (trousers had 
 not come into fashion), and sat down to work again in down- 
 right earnest. Mr. Powell, a jolly apothecary (till he was 
 killed, by singing I suppose), led, in my time, the vocal band : 
 and after a dozen speeches, accompanied by numerous replen- 
 ishments of the jugs, &c, everybody who had anything to do 
 in the morning generally withdrew, leaving the rest of the loy- 
 alists to finish the last drop. 
 
 The idea of " Orange societies" arose, in my opinion, from 
 this association. I believe it exists still ; but has, I understand, 
 degenerated into a sort of half-mounted club — not exclusive 
 enough for gentlemen, and too fine for wig-makers : it has sunk 
 into a paltry and unimportant corporate utensil. 
 
 I recollect an amusing circumstance which many years back 
 occurred in this lodge. Until politics grew too hot, Napper 
 Tandy and several other of the patriots were aldermen : but 
 finding that ultra-loyalty was making way too fast for their 
 notions, they sought some fair opportunity of seceding from the 
 club, stealing the mace, and regenerating the whole board and 
 establishment of Skinner's alley ! and the opportunity was not 
 long wanting. 
 
 An apothecary, by the name of M'Mahon, had become an 
 alderman solely to avoid being considered a friend of the pope ; 
 this, in point of reality, he was ; but since, at that period, his 
 creed was not the popular one, he conceived that he might 
 
DOCTOR m'mAHON, THE APOTHECARY. 159 
 
 thrive better in his business by appearing a stanch protes- 
 tant ; or at least might learn by association, some valuable se- 
 crets, and then betray them to his own sect. 
 
 But M'Mahon, although a clever person, was, like many an 
 honest fellow, vastly more candid when he got " the sup in" 
 than he had ever intended to be ; indeed, in these circum- 
 stances, whatever a man thinks often comes out in spite of him, 
 as if it disagreed with his liquor ! Thus one unfortunate night, 
 "Doctor M'Mahon, the apothecary" (as he was termed in 
 Amiger street), having made too free with his brother-alder- 
 men, and being completely overmastered by the blue jug, for- 
 got his company, and began to speak rather unkindly of King 
 William. His worthy associates, who had made similar appli- 
 cations to the blue and white, took fire at this sacrilege offered 
 to their patron saint ; one word brought on another ; the doc- 
 tor grew outrageous ; and, in his paroxysm (not having the fear 
 of flogging before his eyes), actually damned King William ! 
 proceeding in the enthusiasm of his popery, most thoughtlessly 
 for himself and for the unhappy king's bust then staring before 
 him, to strike it with his huge fat fist plump in the face ! 
 
 The bust immediately showed most evident and marvellous 
 symptons of maltreatment by the apothecary ; its beautiful vir- 
 gin white marble appearing to be actually stained with blood ! 
 This miracle caused one of the aldermen to roar out in a fright, 
 " That villain, M'Mahon, has broken the king's nose !" — " The 
 king's nose V ran throughout the room : some, who had been 
 dozing, hearing this cry of high treason from every quarter, 
 rose and rushed with the rest upon the doctor : his clothes were 
 soon turned into ribands, and the cry of " Throw him out of the 
 window !" was unanimously and resolutely adopted : the window 
 was opened ; the doctor, after exerting all his powers (and he was 
 a strong, active man), was compelled to yield to numbers, and 
 out he went into the street, very much to the ease and satis- 
 faction of the loyal aldermen. The window was now closed 
 again, the " Glorious Memory" drunk, the king's nose washed 
 clean from the blood, formerly belonging to the doctor's 
 knuckles (which his majesty's feature had unmercifully scari- 
 fied), and all restored to peace and tranquillity. 
 
160 ALDERMEN OF SKINNEBS' ALLEY. 
 
 As for the poor doctor, out lie went, as we have said, clean 
 and cleverly, one good story. But (whether through chance 
 or Providence we will not pretend to determine) fortunately 
 for him, a lamp and lamp-iron stood immediately under the 
 window whereby he had made so sudden an exit ! Hence, the 
 doctor's route downward was impeded by a crash against the 
 lamp ; the glass and other materials all yielded to the precious 
 weight, and very probably prevented the pavement from hav- 
 ing the honor of braining him : he held a moment by the iron, 
 and then dropped quite gently into the arms of a couple of guar- 
 dians of the night, who, attracted by the uproar in the room 
 above, and seeing the window open, and the doctor getting out 
 feet foremost, conceived that it was only a drunken frolic, and so 
 placed themselves underneath " to keep the gentleman out of 
 the gutter." 
 
 The doctor scarcely waited to thank his preservers, set out 
 pretty well sobered to his home, and the next day, summoning 
 all the humane and patriotic aldermen, to whom he told his 
 own story, they determined to secede and set up a new corps 
 at the King's Arms in Fowns' street. The old aldermen de- 
 fended their conduct as loyal subjects; the others stigmatized 
 it as the act of a set of manslaughterers ; these old and young 
 guards of the British constitution from that day set about ad- 
 vertising each other, and making proselytes on either side ; and 
 the Orange and United Irishmen parties gained as many re- 
 cruiting sergeants by the fracas, as there were permanents or 
 seceders among those illustrious aldermen. 
 
 As nothing is so much calculated to gratify the aldermen of 
 Skinners' alley as anecdotes respecting his holiness the pope, 
 or their eminences the cardinals, I am happy in being enabled 
 to afford them one, of which I was an eye-witness. I had the 
 honor of touching his holiness's bull to the late Sir Francis 
 Gould (of gallant memory), and of seeing the beautiful candles 
 therewith, six feet and an inch in their sockets : and if the 
 saving clause in the bull should disappoint the aldermen, they 
 must blame the caution of Cardinal G-onsalvi for having it in- 
 serted (though I believe, a lay cardinal). I regret that at 
 present I can furnish them with no other anecdotes of the kind, 
 
ANECDOTE OF SIR FRANCIS GOULD. 1G1 
 
 (at least that came within my own knowledge) ; but the fol- 
 lowing will serve excellently well to elucidate the pope's bulls 
 of absolution. 
 
 A few years since, the present Sir John Bourke, of Glinsk, 
 Bart., travelled with his new-married lady and establishment 
 to Rome, not solely for his pleasure, but as an Irish catholic, 
 to pay his respects to the pope, kiss his holiness's toe, and pur- 
 chase antiquities. 
 
 The late Sir Francis Gould, then at Paris, requested Sir 
 John (before me) that as he fancied he felt himself in a decli- 
 ning state of health, and unable to travel so far as Rome, he 
 (Sir John) would take the proper steps, through Cardinal Gon. 
 salvi, to procure him from his holiness a bull of plenary abso- 
 lution, and if possible, an indulgence also ; adding that Sir 
 John might hint to the cardinal, that he intended to bequeath 
 a good deal of his property among the clergy. 
 
 Sir John undertook the matter, proceeded to Rome, saw the 
 cardinal, and, as far as the absolution went, succeeded. He 
 was himself at the same time created " Marchese de Bourke of 
 the Holy Roman Empire ;" and a bull was duly made out for 
 Sir Francis Gould, at very considerable expense. Sir John 
 received also a couple of blessed candles, six feet long, to burn 
 while the bull was being read. Its express terms, and condi- 
 tions, however were — "Provided the penitent, Sir Francis 
 Gould, should not again voluntarily commit the same sins now 
 forgiven ;" (which list included nearly all the sins the cardinal 
 could think of!) in the other case, the forgiveness would be 
 void, and the two sets of sins come slap upon the soul of Sir 
 Francis at once, no doubt with compound interest ; and which 
 nothing but severe penance, some hundred full masses, and a 
 great deal of mass-money, would ever be able to bring him 
 through. 
 
 Sir John having brought home the bull magnificently en- 
 closed, and sewed up in a silk bag, sealed officially by the car- 
 dinal, informed Sir Francis (as we were all dining together at 
 Bourke's hotel) that he had that day unpacked his luggage, 
 had the pope's bull perfectly safe, and would hand it to him 
 instantly. 
 
102 PROCESSION OF THE TEADES. 
 
 Sir Francis asked him its exact purport. " I have had two 
 others," said he, "but they are null, for I sinned again, and so 
 can't depend upon them." 
 
 Sir John informed him of the purport, so far as his Latin 
 went ; when Sir Francis calmly said, " My dear Bourke, don't 
 give me the bull yet awhile ; its operation, I find, is only retro- 
 spective, and does not affect sins committed after its delivery ; 
 why did you not bring me one that would answer always V 
 
 " Such a one would cost a damned deal more," replied Sir 
 John. 
 
 "Well, then," said Sir Francis, "send it to me in about ten 
 days or a fortnight — not sooner — it will answer then pretty 
 well, as I am about taking away a beautiful young creature, 
 my landlady's daughter, next week, and I should have that 
 sin to answer for, if you gave me the bull before I had her 
 clean out of Paris." 
 
 He kept his word, took off the girl, then got the absolution ; 
 and in a very short time, poor fellow ! was afforded, by death, 
 an opportunity of trying its efficacy. 
 
 PROCESSION OF THE TRADES. 
 
 Dublin Corporation Anecdotes — Splendid Triennial Procession of the Dublin Corporation, 
 called Fringes (Franchises) described. 
 
 Nothing can better show the high opinion entertained by 
 the Irish of their own importance, and particularly by that 
 celebrated body called the corporation of Dublin, than the 
 following incident. Mr. Willis, a leather-breechesmaker in 
 Dame street, and a famous orator at the corporation meetings, 
 holding forth one day about the parochial watch (a subject 
 which he considered as of the utmost general importance) 
 discoursed as follows : " This, my friends, is a subject neither 
 trifling nor obscure ; the character of our corporation is at stake 
 on your decision! recollect," continued he, "recollect, brother 
 freemen, that the eyes of all Eurojie are upon us /" 
 
GUILDS OF DUBLIN. 163 
 
 One of the customs of Dublin which prevailed in my early 
 days made such a strong impression upon my mind, that it 
 never could be obliterated. The most magnificent and showy 
 procession, I really believe, except those of Rome, then took 
 place in the Irish metropolis every third year, and attracted a 
 number of English quite surprising, if we take into account the 
 great difficulty existing at that time with regard to travelling 
 from London to Dublin. 
 
 The corporation of the latter city were, by the terms of their 
 charter, bound, once in three years, to perambulate the limits 
 of the lord-mayor's jurisdiction, to make stands or stations at 
 various points, and to skirt the earl of Meath's liberties — a 
 part of the city at that era in great prosperity, but forming a 
 local jurisdiction of its own (in the nature of a manor), totally 
 distinct from that of Dublin. 
 
 This procession being in fact partly intended to mark and 
 to designate the extreme boundaries of his lordship's jurisdic- 
 tion, at those points where they touch the earl of Meath's 
 liberty, the lord-mayor thrust his sword through the wall of a 
 certain house, and then concluded the ceremony by approach- 
 ing the sea at low water, and hurling a javelin as far upon the 
 sands as his strength admitted, which was understood to form 
 the boundary between him and Neptune. 
 
 The trade of Dublin is comprised of twenty -five corporations, 
 or guilds, each independent of the other, and represented, as 
 in London, by a common council. Every one of these com- 
 prised its masters, journeymen, and apprentices ; and each 
 guild had a patron-saint, or protector, whose image or emblem 
 was on all great occasions dressed up in appropriate habili- 
 ments. 
 
 For this procession, every member of the twenty-five cor- 
 porations prepared as for a jubilee. Small funds only were 
 collected, and each individual gladly bore his extra charges 
 — the masters and journeymen being desirous of outvying one 
 another, and conceiving that the gayer they appeared on that 
 great day, the more consideration would they be entitled to 
 throughout the ensuing three years. Of course, therefore, such 
 as could afford it spared no expense ; they borrowed the finest 
 
164: PROCESSION OF THE TRADES. 
 
 torses and trappings which could be procured ; the masters 
 rode, the journeymen walked, and were succeeded by the 
 apprentices. 
 
 Every corporation had an immense carriage, with a great 
 platform and high canopy, the whole radiant with gilding, 
 ribands, and draperies, and drawn by six or eight horses equally 
 decked and caparisoned ; their colors and flags flying in all 
 directions. On these platforms, which were fitted up as work- 
 shops, were the implements of the respective trades, and expert 
 hands were actually at work during the entire perambulation, 
 which generally lasted eight or nine hours ; the procession 
 indeed took two hours to pass. The narrow-weavers wove 
 ribands which they threw to the spectators : the others tossed 
 into the air small patterns of the fabric they worked upon ; the 
 printers were employed in striking off innumerable hand-bills, 
 with songs and odes to the lord-mayor. 
 
 But the smiths' part of the spectacle was the most gaudy : 
 they had their forge in full work, and were attended by a 
 very high phseton adorned in every way they could think of, 
 the horses covered with flowers and colored streamers. In 
 this phseton sat the most beautiful girl they could possibly 
 procure, in the character of a wife to their patron, Vulcan. It 
 is unnecessary to describe her dress ; suffice it to say, it ap- 
 proached that of a Venus as nearly as decency would permit : 
 a blue scarf, covered with silver doves, was used at her discre- 
 tion, and four or five little Cupids, attired like pages (aiming 
 with bows and arrows at the ladies in the windows), played at 
 her feet. \ On one side rode, on the largest horse which could 
 be provided, a huge fellow, representing Vulcan, dressed cap- 
 a-jrie in coal-black armor, and flourishing an immense smith's 
 sledge-hammer. On the other side pranced his rival, Mars, on 
 a tawdry-caparisoned charger, in shining armor (with an im- 
 mensity of feathers and horse-hair), and brandishing a two- 
 edged glittering sword six or eight feet long — Venus meantime 
 seemed to pay much more attention to her gallant than to her 
 husband. Behind the phseton, rode Argus, with an immense 
 peacock's tail; while numerous other gods and goddesses, 
 saints, devils, satyrs, &c, were distributed in the procession.\ 
 
TAILORS ON HORSEBACK. 105 
 
 The skinners and tanners seemed to undergo no slight pen- 
 ance ; a considerable number of these artisans being dressed 
 up close in sheep and goat skins of different colors. The 
 representatives of the butchers were enveloped in hides, with 
 long towering horns, and rode along brandishing knives and 
 cleavers — a most formidable-looking corporation. The apoth- 
 ecaries made up and distributed pills and boluses on their 
 platform, which was furnished with numerous pestles and mor- 
 tars so contrived as to sound, in the grinding, like bells, and 
 pounding out some popular air. Each corporation had its 
 appropriate band and colors ; perfect order was maintained ; 
 and so proud was the Dublin mob of what they called their 
 
 fringes, that on these peculiar occasions, they managed to 
 behave with great decorum and propriety. I never could 
 guess the reason why, but the crowd seemed ever in the most 
 anxious expectation to see the tailors, who were certainly the 
 T favorites. (, The master-tailors usually borrowed the best horses 
 from their customers ; and as they were not accustomed to 
 horseback, the scene was highly ludicrous. A tailor on a 
 spirited horse has always been esteemed a curiosity; but a 
 . troop of a hundred and fifty tailors, all decked with ribands, 
 and lace, and every species of finery, on horses equally smart, 
 presented a spectacle outvying description. The journeymen 
 and apprentices walked — except that number of workmen on 
 
 ]the platform^ St. Crispin with his last, St. Andrew with his. 
 
 I cross, and' St. Luke with his gridiron, were all included in the 
 
 ; show ; as Avere the city officers in their full robes and parapher- 
 nalia. The guild of merchants, being under the especial 
 patronage of the Holy Trinity, could not, with all their inge- 
 nuity, find out any unprofane emblem, except a shamrock of 
 huge dimensions, the three distinct leaves whereof are on one 
 stalk. This, by the way, offered St. Patrick means of explain- 
 ing the Trinity, and thereby of converting the Irish to Chris- 
 tianity ; and hence, the shamrock became the national emblem 
 of Ireland. The merchants had also a large ship on wheels, 
 drawn and manned by real sailors. 
 
 This singular procession I twice witnessed. It has since 
 been abolished, after having worked well, and done no harm, 
 
166 IRISH REBELLION. 
 
 from the days of the very first lord-mayor of Dublin. The 
 city authorities, however, began at length to think venison and 
 claret would be better things for the same expense ; and so it 
 was decided that the money should remain in the purse of the 
 corporation, and a wretched substitute for the old ceremony 
 was arranged. The lord-mayor and sheriffs, with some dozen 
 of dirty constables, now perambulate these bounds in privacy 
 and silence ; thus defeating, in my mind, the very intention of 
 their charter, and taking away a triennial prospective object 
 of great attraction and pride to the inhabitants of the metropo- 
 lis of Ireland, for the sole purpose of gratifying the sensual 
 appetites of a city aristocracy, who court satiety and indiges- 
 tion at the expense of their humbler brethren. 
 
 IRISH REBELLION. 
 
 Rebellion in Ireland, in 1798 — Mr. Waddy's Castle — A Priest cut in two by tbe Portcullis, 
 and partly eaten by Waddy — Dinner-Party at Lady Colclough's — Names and Characters 
 of the Company, including Mr. Bagenal Harvey, Captain Keogh, &c. — Most of them exe- 
 cuted soon after — Tour through, and State of, County Wexford, after the Battles and 
 Storming of the Town — Colonel Walpole killed and his Regiment defeated at Gorey — 
 Unaccountable Circumstance of Captain Keogh's Head not decaying. 
 
 Many incidents which, I really think, could not have oc- 
 curred in any country except Ireland, took place there in the 
 year 1798. There is something so very different from other 
 people in every deed or word of the unsophisticated Irish, that 
 in fact one has no right to be surprised, whatever scenes may 
 by them be acted. 
 
 One of these curious occurrences remains even to this day a 
 subject of surmise and mystery. During the rebellion in Coun- 
 ty Wexford, in 1798, Mr. Waddy, a violent loyalist, but sur- 
 rounded by a neighborhood of inveterate insurgents, fled to a 
 castle at a considerable distance from the town of Wexford. 
 Though not in repair, it was not unfit for habitation, and might 
 secure its tenant from any coup-de-main of undisciplined insur- 
 gents. He dreaded discovery so much, that he would intrust 
 his place of refuge to no person whatsoever ; and, as he con- 
 
WADDY'S CASTLE SINGULAR ACCIDENT. 167 
 
 ceived, took sufficient food to last until lie might escape out of 
 the country. There was but one entrance to the castle, and 
 that was furnished with an old ponderous portcullis, which 
 drew up and let down as in ancient fortresses. 
 
 Here Mr. Waddy concealed himself; and everybody was for 
 a long time utterly ignorant as to his fate. Some said he was 
 drowned ; some, burnt alive ; others, murdered and buried in 
 ploughed ground! — but while each was willing to give an 
 opinion as to the mode of his destruction, no one supposed him 
 to be still alive. At length, it occurred to certain of his friends 
 to seek him through the country ; with which view they set 
 out, attended by an armed body. Their search was in vain, 
 until approaching by chance the old castle, they became aware 
 of a stench, which the seekers conjectured to proceed from the 
 putrid corpse of murdered Waddy. On getting nearer, this 
 opinion was confirmed ; for a dead body lay half within and 
 half without the castle, which the descent of the portcullis had 
 cut nearly into equal portions. Poor Mr. Waddy was deeply 
 lamented ; and, though with great disgust, the party proceeded 
 to remove that half of the carcass which lay outside the en- 
 trance — when, to their infinite astonishment, they perceived 
 that it was not Waddy, but a neighboring priest, who had been 
 so expertly cut in two. How the accident had happened, no- 
 body could surmise. They now rapped and shouted — but no 
 reply : Waddy, in good truth, lay close within, supposing them 
 to be rebels. At length, on venturing to peep out, he discov- 
 ered his friends, whom he joyfully requested to raise the port- 
 cullis, and let him out — as he was almost starved to death. 
 
 This, with difficulty, was effected, and the other half of the 
 priest was discovered immediately within the entrance — but 
 by no means in equally good condition with that outside ; in- 
 asmuch as it appeared that numerous collops and rump-steaks 
 had been cut off the reverend gentleman's hind-quarters by 
 Waddy, who, early one morning, had found the priest thus 
 divided : and being alike unable to raise the portcullus or get 
 out to look for food (certain, indeed, in the latter case, of being 
 piked by any of the rebels who knew him), he thought it bet- 
 ter to feed on the priest, and remain in tire castle till fortune 
 
168 IRISH REBELLION. 
 
 smiled, than run a risk of breaking all his bones by dropping 
 from the battlements — his only alternative. 
 
 To the day of Waddy's death he could give no collected or 
 rational account of this incident : indeed, so confused had his 
 head become in consequence of his critical circumstances, that 
 the whole appeared to him ever after as a dream or vision 
 quite beyond his comprehension. 
 
 The foregoing, though among the most curious, is but one 
 of the extraordinary occurrences of that dreadful insurrection 
 — some of which tend to strengthen my superstitious feeling, 
 which is, I confess, very deep-rooted, as also is my conviction 
 that " whatever is, is right." Scarcely any except the fortu- 
 nate will, I suppose, be ready to join me in the latter notion, 
 though in the former I am aware I have many associates, par- 
 ticularly among old women and hypochondriacs : I am, it is 
 true, laughed at for both by clever ladies and strong-minded gen- 
 tlemen, but still think proper to retain my own impressions. 
 
 I will detail the following circumstance in illustration of 
 these principles. It took place immediately previous to the 
 breaking out of the rebellion : — 
 
 I dined at the house of Lady Colclough (a near relative of 
 Lady Barrington), in the town of Wexford, in April, 1798. 
 The company, so far as I recollect, consisted of about seven- 
 
 n persons, among Avhom were several other of Lady B.'s 
 • relatives, then members of the grand-jury : Mr. Cornelius Gro- 
 gan, of Johnstown, a gentleman of very large fortune who had 
 represented the county ; his two brothers, both wealthy men ; 
 Captain Keogh, afterward rebel governor of Wexford, the hus- 
 band of Lady B.'s aunt ; the unfortunate John Colclough, of 
 Tintern, and the still more unfortunate Mr. Colclough ; Coun- 
 sellor John Beauman; Counsellor Bagenal Harvey, afterward 
 the rebel generalissimo ; Mr. William Hatton, and some others. 
 The conversation after dinner turning on the distracted state 
 of 'the country, became rather too free, and I begged some of 
 the party to be more moderate, as our ways of thinking were 
 so different, and my public situation did not permit me, espe- 
 cially at that particular period, to hear such strong language : 
 the loyalists among us did not exceed four or five. 
 
DINNER-PARTY AT LADY COLCLOUGIl'ri. 169 
 
 The tone of the conversation was soon lowered, but not be- 
 fore I had made up my mind as to the probable fate of several 
 in the company, though I certainly had no idea that, in little 
 more than a month, a sanguinary rebellion would desolate my 
 native land, and violent deaths, within three months, befall 
 a great proportion of that joyous assemblage. I had seen 
 enough, however, to convince me that all was not right ; and 
 that, by plunging one step farther* most of my relatives and 
 friends would be in imminent danger. The party, however, 
 broke up ; and next morning, Mr. Beauman and myself, hap- 
 pening to meet on the bridge, talked over the occurrences of 
 the previous day, uniting in opinion as to the inauspicious 
 aspect of things, and actually proceeding to make out a list of 
 those among the dinner-party whom we considered likely to 
 fall victims ! — and it so turned out that every one of our pre- 
 dictions was verified. It was superficial observation alone that 
 led me to think as I did at that moment, but a decided pre- 
 sentiment of what eventually happened soon after took posses- 
 sion of me ; and indeed so full was I of forebodings, that I have 
 more than once been ro,used out of my sleep by the horrid ideas 
 floating through my mind ! 
 
 Bagenal Harvey (already mentioned in this work), who had 
 been my schoolfelloAv and constant circuit-companion for many 
 years, laughed, at Lady Oolclough's, at my political prudery ; 
 assured me I was totally wrong in suspecting him ; and insisted 
 on my going to Bargay castle, his residence, to meet some old 
 temple friends of ours on the ensuing Monday. My relative 
 Captain Keogh was to be of the party. 
 
 I accordingly went there to dinner, but that evening proved 
 to me of great uneasiness, and made a very disagreeable im- 
 pression on both my mind and spirits. The company I met 
 included Captain Keogh ; the two unfortunate Counsellors 
 Sheers, who were both hung shortly afterward ; Mr. Colclough, 
 who was hung on the bridge ; Mr. Hay, who was also executed ; 
 Mr. William Hatton, one of the rebel directory of Wexford, 
 who unaccountably escaped ; and a gentleman of the bar whose 
 name I shall not mention, as he still lives. 
 
 8 
 
170 IRISH REBELLION. 
 
 The entertainment was good, and the party cheerful. Tem- 
 ple freaks were talked over ; the bottle circulated ; but, at 
 length, Irish politics became the topic, and proceeded to an 
 extent of disclosure which utterly surprised me. With the 
 Messrs. Sheers (particularly Henry) I had always been on 
 terms of the greatest intimacy : I had extricated both of them 
 not long before from considerable difficulty, through the kind- 
 ness of Lord Kilwarden ; and I had no idea that matters where- 
 in they were concerned had proceeded to the lengths developed 
 on that night. The probability of a speedy revolt was freely 
 discussed, though in the most artful manner, not a word of any 
 of the party committing themselves : but they talked it over 
 as a result which might be expected from the complexion of 
 the times and the irritation excited in consequence of the se- 
 verities exercised by the government. The chances of suc- 
 cess, in the event of a rising, were openly debated, as were 
 also the circumstances likely to spring from that success, and 
 the examples which the insurgents would in such a case prob- 
 ably make. All this was at the same time talked over, with- 
 out one word being uttered in favor of rebellion — a system of 
 caution which, I afterward learned, was much practised for 
 the purpose of gradually making proselytes without alarming 
 them. I saw through it clearly, and here my presentiments 
 came strong upon me. I found myself in the midst of absolute 
 though unavowed conspirators. I perceived that the explosion 
 was much nearer than the government expected ; and I was 
 startled at the decided manner in which my host and his 
 friends spoke. 
 
 Under these circumstances, my alternative was evidently to 
 quit the house or give a turn to the conversation. I therefore 
 began to laugh at the subject, and ridicule it as quite visionary, 
 observing jestingly to Keogh — "Now, my dear Keogh, it is 
 quite clear that you and I, in this famous rebellion, shall be on 
 different sides of the question, and of course one or the other 
 of us must necessarily be hanged at or before its termina- 
 tion ; I upon a lamp-iron in Dublin, or you on the bridge of 
 "Wexford. Now, we'll make a bargain! — if we beat you, 
 upon my honor I'll do all I can to save your neck ; and if 
 
FATE OF THE DINNER-PARTY. 171 
 
 your folks beat us, you'll save me from the honor of the lamp- 
 iron. 
 
 We shook hands on the bargain, which created much merri- 
 ment, and gave the whole after-talk a cheerful character ; and 
 I returned to "Wexford at twelve at night, with a most decided 
 impression of the danger of the country, and a complete pre- 
 sentiment that either myself or Captain Keogh would never 
 see the conclusion of that summer. 
 
 I immediately wrote to Mr. Secretary Cooke, without men- 
 tioning names, place, or any particular source of knowledge, 
 but simply to assure him that there was not a doubt that an 
 insurrection would break out at a much earlier period than the 
 government expected. I desired him to ask me no questions, 
 but said that he might depend upon the fact ; adding that a 
 commanding force ought instantly to be sent down to garrison 
 the town of Wexford. " If the government," said I, in con- 
 clusion, " does not attend to my warning, it must take the 
 consequences." My warning was not attended to ; but his 
 majesty's government soon found I was right. They lost 
 Wexford, and might have lost Ireland, by that culpable 
 inattention. 
 
 The result need scarcely be mentioned ; every member of 
 that jovial dinner-party (with the exception of myself, the 
 barrister before alluded to, and Mr. Hatton), was executed 
 within three months ! and on my next visit to Wexford, I saw 
 the heads of Captain Keogh, Mr. Harvey, and Mr. Colclough, 
 on spikes over the court-house door. 
 
 Previously to the final catastrophe, however, when the insur- 
 gents had been beaten, Wexford retaken by our troops, and 
 Keogh made prisoner, I did not forget my promise to him at 
 Bargay castle. Many certificates had reached Dublin of his 
 humanity to the royalists while the town of Wexford was under 
 his government, and of attempts made upon his life by Dixon, 
 a chief of his own party, for his endeavoring to resist the rebel 
 butcheries. I had intended to go with these directly to Lord 
 Camden, the lord lieutenant; but I first saw Mr. Secretary 
 Cooke, to whom I related the entire story, and showed him 
 several favorable documents. He told me I might save myself 
 
172 v IKISII KEBULLION. 
 
 the trouble of going to Lord Camden : and at the same time 
 handed me a despatch received that morning from General 
 Lake, who stated that he had thought it necessary, on recap- 
 turing Wexford, to lose no time in " making examples" of the 
 rebel chiefs ; and that accordingly, Mr. Grogan, of Johnstown, 
 Mr. Bagenal Harvey, of Bargay castle, Captain Keogh, Mr. 
 Colclough, and some other gentlemen, had been hanged on the 
 bridge and beheaded the previous morning. 
 
 I felt shocked beyond measure at this intelligence, particu- 
 larly as I knew Mr. Cornelius Grogan (an excellent gentleman, 
 seventy years of age, of very large fortune and establishments) 
 to be no more a rebel than myself. Being unable, from infir- 
 mity, to walk without assistance, he was led to execution. 
 
 I was at all times ready and willing to risk my life to put 
 down that spirit of mad democracy which sought to subvert all 
 legal institutions, and to support every true principle of the 
 constitution which protected us : but at the same time I must 
 in truth and candor say (and I say it with reluctance), that 
 during those most sanguinary scenes, the brutal conduct of cer- 
 tain frantic royalists was at least on a parallel with that of the 
 frantic rebels. 
 
 A short time after the recapture of Wexford, I traversed that 
 country, to see the ruins which had been occasioned by warfare. 
 Enniscorthy had been twice stormed, and was dilapidated and 
 nearly burned. New Ross showed most melancholy relics of 
 the obstinate and bloody battle of full ten hours' duration, 
 which had been fought in every street of it. The numerous 
 pits crammed with dead bodies, on Vinegar hill, seemed on 
 some spots actually elastic as we stood upon them ; while the 
 walls of an old windmill on its summit, appeared stained and 
 splashed with the blood and brains of the many victims who 
 had been piked or shot against it by the rebels. The court- 
 house of Enniscorthy, wherein our troops had burned alive 
 above eighty of the wounded rebels, and the barn of Scull a- 
 bogue, where the rebels had retaliated by burning alive above 
 one hundred and twenty protectants, were terrific ruins ! The 
 town of Gorey was utterly destroyed, not a house being left 
 perfect, and the bodies of the killed were lying half-covered 
 
DEATH OF COLONEL WALPOLE. 173 
 
 in sundry ditches in its vicinity. It was here that Colonel 
 Walpole had been defeated and killed a few days before.* 
 
 An unaccountable circumstance was witnessed by me on that 
 tour immediately after the retaking of Wexford. General 
 Lake, as I have before mentioned, had ordered the heads of 
 Mr. Grogan, Captain Keogh, Mr. Bagenal Harvey, and Mr. 
 Colclough, to be placed on very low spikes, over the court- 
 house door of Wexford. A faithful servant of Mr. Grogan had 
 taken away his head ; but the other three remained there 
 when I visited the town. The mutilated countenances of 
 friends and relatives, in such a situation, would, it may be 
 imagined, give any man most horrifying sensations ! The 
 heads of Mr. Colclough and Harvey appeared black lumps, 
 the features being utterly undistinguishable ; that of Keogh 
 was uppermost, but the air had made no impression on it what- 
 ever ! His comely and respect-inspiring face (except the pale 
 hue, scarcely to be called livid), was the same as in life : his 
 eyes were not closed ; his hair not much ruffled : in fact, it ap- 
 peared to me rather as a head of chiselled marble, with glass 
 eyes, than as the lifeless remains of a human creature : this 
 circumstance I never could get any medical man to give me 
 the least explanation of. I prevailed on General Hunter, who 
 then commanded in Wexford, to suffer the three heads to be 
 taken down and buried. 
 
 * No man ever came to a violent death more unwarily ! Colonel "Walpole 
 was a peculiarly handsome man, an aid-de-camp to Lord Camden. With 
 somewhat of the air of a petit-inaitre, he fluttered much about the drawing- 
 room of the castle ; but, as he had not seen actual service, he felt a sort of 
 military inferiority to veterans who had spent the early part of their lives 
 in blowing other people's brains out; and he earnestly begged to be intrust- 
 ed with some command that might give him an opportunity of fighting for 
 a few weeks in the county of Wexford, and of writing some elegant des- 
 patches to his excellency, the lord lieutenant. The lord lieutenant most 
 kindly indulged him with a body of troops, and sent him to fight in the 
 County Wexford, as he requested : but on passing the town of Gorey, not 
 being accustomed to advanced guards or flankers, he overlooked such trifles 
 altogether ! and having got into a defile with some cannon and the Antrim 
 regiment, in a few minutes the colonel was shot through the head — the 
 cannon changed masters, and most of the Antrim heroes had each a pike, 
 ton or twelve feet long, sticking in his carcass — " Sic transit gloria mundi !" 
 
174 "WOLF TONE. 
 
 WOLF TONE. 
 
 Counsellor Theobold Wolf Tone— His resemblance to Mr. Crbker — He is ordered to be 
 Hanged by a Military Court — General Craig attached in Court of Common Pleas — Tone's 
 Attempt at Suicide— Cruel Suggestion respecting him. 
 
 Theobald Wolf Tone was one of the most remarkable of 
 the persons who lost their lives in consequence of that wild 
 democratic mania, which, at the period treated of in the former 
 sketch, had seized upon the reason of so many otherwise sensible 
 individuals. His catastrophe can not fail to be interesting. 
 
 This gentleman's enthusiastic mind was eternally surrounded 
 by the mist of visionary speculation : it was a fine sailer, but 
 wanted ballast. He had distinguished himself somewhat in 
 the university as a desultory declaimer, but, in my judgment, 
 that was the full extent of his powers. He was neither high- 
 born, nor wealthy ; in fact, I fear even a steady competency 
 was not at his command ; and hence his spirit, naturally rest- 
 less, was additionally goaded and inflamed. 
 
 It is a curious circumstance that Mr. Tone, a decided revo 
 lutionist and rebel, married improvidently enough, one sister 
 while Mr. Thomas Eeynolds, who betrayed the friends of Tone 
 and of himself, espoused another. 
 
 Tone was called to the Irish bar ; but had been previously 
 over-rated, and did not succeed. I thought it a pity (as he was 
 really a good-hearted person) that he should not be fairly tried, 
 and, if possible, pushed forward ; and being myself high on 
 the circuit, I took him round in my carriage three times, and 
 then thought well of him ; but he was too light and visionary ; 
 and as for law, was quite incapable of imbibing that species 
 of science. His person was unfavorable — his countenance 
 thin and sallow ; and he had in his speech a harsh guttural 
 pronunciation of the letter R — a defect shared by him in com- 
 mon with Mr. Croker, of the admiralty, who indeed resembled 
 him in personal appearance greatly, but was somewhat Tone's 
 inferior in elocution. 
 
 It is my belief, that Tone could not have succeeded in any 
 
CONDEMNED TO BE HANGED. 175 
 
 steady civil profession. He was not worldly enough, nor had 
 he sufficient common sense for his guidance. His biography 
 has been repeatedly published, and I only intend here to allude 
 to the extraordinary circumstances of his death ; an event upon 
 which I confess I had many painful feelings, and not the less 
 so from its being connected with my own judicial functions. 
 
 He had been taken in arms by Sir John Borlase Warren, at 
 sea, in a French frigate, proceeding to land troops in Ireland. 
 He wore the uniform of a French officer, but being recognised, 
 brought prisoner to Dublin, and delivered over for trial to the 
 provost-marshal and military authorities, he was of course con- 
 demned to be hanged. I did not see him under these dis- 
 tressing circumstances, nor in truth was it my wish to do so ; 
 for although there existed between us no actual friendship, still 
 I had a strong feeling for a gentleman with whom I had been 
 so well acquainted. 
 
 It occurred to his counsel that the jurisdiction of martial-law 
 could not extend to him, as it only operated on land, and he 
 had been taken at sea. An application was therefore made to 
 the common pleas, to have him brought up by habeas coiyus, in 
 order (the point being ascertained) to be regularly tried before 
 the competent tribunal — the court of admiralty. The habeas 
 corpus being granted, was served on General Craig, who then 
 commanded in Dublin, but who refused to obey it, and was 
 attached for his disobedience ; an order being consequently 
 made for the general and some of his staff to be taken into 
 custody by the officers of the court. 
 
 To me (as judge of the admiralty) this appeal was most 
 distressing. Had Tone the least chance of escape in any 
 court, or upon any trial, it might have been otherwise ; but he 
 could not be defended ; and to have him brought before me only 
 to witness his conviction, and to pronounce his sentence, 
 shocked me extremely. His friends thought this course might 
 prolong his fate a considerable time, and it was supposed that 
 something might intermediately occur calculated to affect a 
 commutation of the capital punishment. I knew better ! I 
 was convinced that his execution was determined on ; it was 
 unavoidable, and I felt great uneasiness. 
 
176 WOLF TONE. 
 
 The court having ordered General Craig, and Major Sandys 
 (provost-marshal) to he arrested for disobedience, both these 
 gentlemen submitted, and the pursuivant was then directed to 
 bring up the body of Theobald "Wolf Tone, on the writ of 
 habeas corpus. The judges sat patiently awaiting the officer's 
 return : and the decision being of great importance, the court 
 was crowded to suffocation. 
 
 A considerable time elapsed, and still the 'pursuivant returned 
 not. At length he appeared, with horror in his looks, and 
 scarcely able to speak. He informed the court, that Mr. Tone 
 feeling certain of execution by order of the military, and being 
 ignorant of the motion which his friends thought might give 
 him some chance for his life, had cut his throat from ear to ear, 
 and, he believed, was dying ! A surgeon now attended, who 
 reported that the prisoner had certainly cut his throat, but that 
 recovery was possible : the incision was long and deep, but had 
 missed the artery, and he still lived. Of course, the trial was 
 postponed ; every friend he had (and I think he had many 
 among the bar), rejoicing that poor Tone had escaped a public 
 execution. He lingered awhile : and will it be believed, that 
 when the wound had been connected, and while life still 
 seemed to be precarious, owing to the extreme inflammation- — 
 I say, will it be believed that there existed cruelty sufficient 
 in the breast of any human creature to advise his execution — 
 though it would have been impossible to put the sentence in 
 force without inserting the rope within the wound, and nearly 
 tearing away the unfortunate gentleman's head from his body] 
 Yet such advice was given, "for the sake of example;" and 
 rejected, I am happy to say, with horror. I will spare the 
 man who gave it the ignominy which would thence attach to 
 his name were it mentioned. 
 
MY CONTEST FOR DUBLIN CITY. 177 
 
 DUBLIN ELECTION. 
 
 My Contest for Dublin City — Supported by Grattan, Ponsonby, Plunkett, and Curran— 
 Singularity of a Canvass for Dublin — The Election — Curious Incidents — G rattan's Famous 
 Philippic never before Published — Memoirs of Mr. John Giffard, called the " Dog in 
 Office'" — Horish the Chimney-Sweeper's Bon-mot. 
 
 In 1803, I had become particularly popular in Dublin. I 
 was not at enmity with any sect or any party. The losses and 
 deprivations which the citizens of Dublin were suffering in 
 consequence of the union brought to their recollection the fact 
 of my having been one of its most zealous opponents. They 
 knew that I had entertained professional ambition ; and they 
 also knew that, in order to oppose that measure, and support 
 the independence of the nation as well as my own, I had with 
 open eyes sacrificed all the objects of my ambition : — that I 
 had refused the most gratifying proposals ; and, in maintenance 
 of principle, had set my face decidedly against the measures 
 of that government which I had on other occasions supported, 
 and which alone possessed the power to advance me. They 
 knew that I had braved the animosity of Chancellor Clare, 
 whom few had ever ventured to oppose so decidedly as myself; 
 and that I had utterly renounced Lord Castlereagh, by whom 
 all means were employed to attach me. In fact, the citizens 
 of Dublin recollected that I had abandoned every prospect in 
 life to uphold their interest ; and consequently many persons 
 on both sides of politics had proposed to me to become a can- 
 didate for the representation of the metropolis in parliament. 
 Some entire corporations voted me their freedom and support ; 
 and a great number of the freeholders tendered me their aid. 
 Having, in addition, an extensive personal interest of my own, 
 I at length determined to stand the contest. 
 
 Persons of the first weight and rank came forward in my 
 favor; and among these I am proud to enumerate — his grace 
 the duke of Leinster, Mr. Grattan, Mr. George Ponsonby, Mr. 
 Curran, Mr. Plunkett, several of the most respectable members 
 
 8* 
 
178 DUBLIN ELECTION. 
 
 of my own profession, and many private gentlemen. Indeed, 
 the mode wherein I was brought forward, and the parties by 
 whom I was encouraged, could not but combine to gratify me 
 highly. 
 
 The city, however, immediately divided into two inveterate 
 factions, one of which declared for Mr. Beresford, the banker, 
 and Mr. Ogle, the Orange chieftain ; while the other supported 
 Mr. Latouche and myself. A fifth gentleman, Sir John Jer- 
 voise White Jervoise, Bart., also announced himself a candi- 
 date, on the strength of his own personal connections, and 
 individual property in the city, backed by any second votes he 
 could pick up among the rest. 
 
 Dublin differs from London in this respect — inasmuch as, 
 there must be an individual canvass requiring hard labor of 
 at least two months or ten weeks, by day and by night, to 
 got through it cleverly. One custom alone takes up an im- 
 mensity of time, which, though I believe it never existed any- 
 where else, has good sense to recommend it. The grand 
 corporation of Dublin comprises twenty-five minor corporations 
 or trades, each independent of the other ; and all (knowing 
 their own importance previous to an election, and their insig- 
 nificance after it is over) affect the state and authority of a 
 Venetian senate, and say (shrewdly enough), "How can we, 
 ignorant men ! tell who is fittest to represent Dublin till we 
 have an opportunity of knowing their abilities ?" And for the 
 purpose of acquiring this knowledge, each corporation appoints 
 a day to receive the candidates in due formality in its hall ; 
 and each candidate in then called on to make an oration, in 
 order to give the electors power of judging as to his capability 
 to speak in parliament. So that, in the progress of his can- 
 vass, every candidate must make twenty-four or twenty-six 
 speeches in his best style. Nothing can be more amusing than 
 the gravity and decorum, wherewith the journeymen barbers,* 
 hosiers, skinners, cooks, &c, &c, receive the candidates, listen 
 to their fine florid harangues, and then begin to debate among 
 themselves as to their comparative merits; and, in truth, as- 
 
 * Who very lately addressed the duke of York as " the corporation of 
 surgeons," — i. e. barber-surgeons. 
 
ITS RESULTS. 179 
 
 sume as much importance as the diplomatists at Vienna, with 
 intentions to the full as good. 
 
 However, I got through my canvass of nearly three months, 
 and remained tolerably in my senses at the conclusion of it : 
 though most undoubtedly, I drank as much porter and whiskey 
 with the electors themselves ; and as much tea and cherry- 
 brandy with their wives, as would have ended my days on any 
 other occasion. But I loved the people of Dublin ; I had lived 
 more than thirty years among them ; was upon good terms 
 with all parties and societies ; and, if elected, I should have 
 been a very faithful, and I trust, an effective representative. 
 
 The humors of an Irish canvass can only be known to those 
 who have witnessed them ; and I believe, no election, even in 
 Ireland, ever gave rise to more of what is termed real fun. 
 Most of the incidents are too trivial and too local for detail : 
 but there were some so ludicrous, that even at this moment, I 
 can scarce refrain from laughing at their recollection. 
 
 Never was a business of the kind conducted with more 
 spirit; and, at the same time, a degree of good temper pre- 
 vailed, not to have been expected in a contest which called 
 into play the most fiery and rancorous party feelings ; and the 
 genuine stream of humor that steadily flowed on, had a great 
 effect in washing away any marks of ill blood. It is with 
 pride I relate that the four voters who formed my first tally 
 were, Mr. George Ponsonby (afterward lord-chancellor), Mr. 
 Henry Grattan, Mr. William Plunkett (the present attorney- 
 general), and Mr. John Philpot Curran (afterward master of 
 the rolls) ; and that the two former accompanied their votes 
 by far more than merited eulogies. 
 
 I lost the election : but I polled to the end of the fifteen 
 days, and had the gratification of thinking that I broke the 
 knot of a virulant ascendency; was the means of Mr. La- 
 touche's success, and likewise of Mr. Grattan's subsequent re- 
 turn. 
 
 In the course of that election many curious incidents occur- 
 red ; and as everything which relates to Mr. Grattan, and tends 
 to elucidate the character and peculiarities of that most pure 
 and eminent of my countrymen, must necessarily be interesting 
 
180 DUBLIN ELECTION. 
 
 (anecdotes, which if not recorded now by me, would he lost 
 forever), I feel myself justified in detailing a few, though in 
 themselves of no particular importance. 
 
 In the days of unsophisticated patriotism, when the very- 
 name of Grattan operated as a spell to rouse the energies and 
 spirit of his country ; when the schisms of party bigotry had 
 yielded to the common weal, and public men obtained that 
 public gratitude which they merited ; the corporation of Dublin 
 (in some lucid interval of the Scottish malady which has ever 
 distinguished that inconsiderate and intemperate body), ob- 
 tained a full-length portrait of Henry Grattan, then termed 
 their great deliverer. His name graced their corporate rolls 
 as an hereditary freeman,* when the jealous malice of that 
 rancorous and persevering enemy of every man opposed to him, 
 the earl of Clare, in a secret committee of the house of lords, 
 introduced into their report some lines of a deposition by one 
 Hughes (a rebel who had been made a witness, and was in- 
 duced to coin evidence to save his own life), detailing a con- 
 versation which he alleged himself to have had with Mr. Grat- 
 tan, wherein the latter had owned that he was an United 
 Irishman. Everybody knew the total falsity of this. Indeed, 
 Mr. Grattan was, on the other hand, a man whose principles 
 had been on certain occasions considered too aristocratic ; and 
 yet he was now denounced, in the slang of the lord-chancellor, 
 "an infernal democrat." The corporation of Dublin caught 
 the sound, and, without one atom of inquiry, tore down from 
 their walls the portrait which had done them so much honor, 
 and expelled Grattan from the corporation without trial or even 
 notice ; thus proclaiming one of the most loyal and constitu- 
 tional subjects of the British empire to be a rebel and incendi- 
 ary. He despised and took no notice of their extravagance. 
 
 On the election in question, I was proposed by Mr. George 
 Ponsonby, and upon Mr. Grattan rising next to vote upon my 
 tally, he was immediately objected to as having been expelled 
 on the report of Lord Clare's committee. A burst of indignation 
 on the one side, and a boisterous declamation on the other, 
 
 * Mr. Grattan's father had been recorder of Dublin, and representative 
 in parliament for that city. 
 
triumph of grattan:. 181 
 
 forthwith succeeded. It was of an alarming nature : Grattan 
 meanwhile standing silent, and regarding, with a smile of the 
 most ineffable contempt ever expressed, his shameless accusers. 
 The objection was made by Mr. John Giffard, of whom here- 
 after. On the first intermission of the tumult, with a calm and 
 dignified air, but in that energetic tone and style so peculiar 
 to himself, Mr. Grattan delivered the following memorable 
 words — memorable, because conveying in a few short senten- 
 ces the most overwhelming philippic — the most irresistible as- 
 semblage of terms imputing public depravity, that the English, 
 or, I believe, any other language, is capable of affording : — 
 
 "Mr. Sheriff, when I observe the quarter whence the ob- 
 jection comes, I am not surprised at its being made ! It pro- 
 ceeds from the hired traducer of his country — the excommuni- 
 cated of his fellow-citizens — the regal rebel — the unpunished 
 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 obnoxious is he to the very party he wishes to espouse, 
 that he is only supportable by doing those dirty acts the less 
 vile refuse to execute." 
 
 Giffard, thunderstruck, lost his usual assurance ; and replied, 
 in one single sentence, "I would spit upon him in a desert !" 
 which vapid and unmeaning exclamation was his sole retort ! 
 
 I called for the roll, and on inspection, Mr. Grattan's name 
 appeared never to have been erased. Of course, the objection 
 was overruled — my friend voted, and his triumph was com- 
 plete. 
 
 The erasure of his name from the roll was never afterward 
 attempted ; and, on the dissolution of that parliament, he was 
 requested by the very same body to stand forward as their 
 " most illustrious countryman," and elected by acclamation in 
 that very same court-house, as the representative of the city 
 and corporation which had so recently endeavored to debase 
 and destroy him ; his chairing being attended with enthusiasm 
 by those who some time before would with equal zeal have 
 attended his execution. Never was there exhibited a more 
 complete proof of causeless popular versatility ; which, indeed, 
 was repeatedly practised on that real patriot. 
 
182 DUBLIN ELECTION. 
 
 Mr. John Giffard, the subject of the foregoing philippic, was 
 a very remarkable person. He had a great deal of vulgar 
 talent ; a daring impetuosity ; and 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 recollect in the train of government. His de- 
 testation of the pope and his adoration of King William, he 
 carried to an excess quite ridiculous ; in fact, on both subjects 
 he seemed occasionally delirious. His life had many curious 
 incidents connected with it, and as it would be wrong that a 
 name so frequently occurring in the local history of Ireland 
 should remain unnoticed, I have, therefore, in these fragments 
 introduced it. 
 
 I did not agree with Mr. Grattan as to all the epithets where- 
 with he honored the captain. " A coward" he most certainly 
 was not. With all his faults (or crimes if they should be called 
 so), he had several qualities which in social intercourse are 
 highly valuable ; and hence it is just to make a clear distinc- 
 tion between his private and his public character. He was as 
 warm-hearted and friendly a person a& I ever met with ; and, 
 on the other hand, a bitterer enemy never existed : I don't 
 think he ever was mine. 
 
 Giffard was originally an apothecary. When I was at the 
 Dublin university, the students were wild and lawless ; any 
 offence to one was considered as an offence to all ; and as the 
 elder sons of most men of rank and fortune in Ireland were 
 then educated in Dublin college, it was dangerous to meddle 
 with so powerful a set of students, who consequently did pre- 
 cisely what they chose (outside 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 unanimity and numbers were so great that 
 it was quite impossible any youth could be selected for punish- 
 ment. In my time, we used to break open what houses we 
 pleased ! regularly beating the watch every night, except in 
 one parish, which we always kept in pay, to lend us their poles 
 wherewith to fight the others. In short our conduct was out- 
 rageous, and the first check we ever received was from Giffard, 
 
HOKISH, THE CHIMNEY-SWEEPER. 183 
 
 who was a director of the watch, and kept a shop close to the 
 parliament-house. 
 
 He having in some way annoyed the collegians, they deter- 
 mined to pump Giffard, but they reckoned without their host ! 
 He entrenched himself in his house, which we assailed, break- 
 ing all his windows. He gave repeated warnings to no pur- 
 pose, and a new assault being commenced, Giffard fired a pistol, 
 and a collegian was wounded in the wrist, whereupon the be- 
 siegers immediately retired from the fortress. 
 
 It was a lucky shot for Giffard, who immediately obtained 
 some parochial office for his firmness ; made himself of import- 
 ance on every trifling subject ; and harangued constantly in 
 the vestry. Of his subsequent progress, I know nothing till 
 about the year 1790, when I became a public character, and 
 found Giffard an attache to the castle in divers capacities. He 
 was afterward placed in the revenue department, became a 
 common-councilman, and at length high-sheriff; at which epoch 
 he acquired the title which forsook him not, of " The Dog in 
 Office" though wherefore, I could never rightly make out. His 
 acts from that period became part of the general statistical 
 history of Irish politics. One of his sons was butchered in 
 cool blood by the rebels at Kildare, which naturally increased 
 his ferocity. His eldest son, Harding Giffard, and Mr. Oroker, 
 of the admiralty, married two sisters in Waterford. Mr. 
 Oroker's good luck enabled him to aid his relative, who, having 
 tried the Irish bar in vain for several years, has become chief 
 justice of Ceylon ; Mr. Croker himself, after his unsuccessful 
 professional essay, being casually indebted to several persons 
 of celebrity for his very rapid elevation. 
 
 During the election we are speaking of, one Horish, a master 
 chimney-sweeper, appeared on the hustings. This man, being 
 known to have several votes at command besides his own, had 
 been strongly canvassed, but would promise neither of the can- 
 didates, nor give the least hint how he intended to vote. 
 
 During the rebellion of 1798, Mr. John Beresford, one of the 
 candidates, had built a riding-house for his yeomanry troop, 
 which had been also much used as a place for whipping sus- 
 pected persons in, to make them discover what in all probability 
 
184 DUBLIN ELECTION. 
 
 they never knew ; a practice equally just and humane, and 
 liberally resorted to, perhaps for sport, by military officers, 
 pending that troublous era. 
 
 In Mr. Beresford's riding-house, this infernal system was 
 carried on to a greater extent than in any of the similar 
 slaughter-houses then tolerated in the metropolis ; to such an 
 extent, indeed, that some Irish wags (who never fail even upon 
 the most melancholy occasions to exercise their native humor) 
 had one night the words, " Mangling done here by J. Beresford 
 & Co." painted upon a sign-board, and fixed over the entrance. 
 
 It happened that this same Horish had been among those 
 who had paid to their king and country a full share of skin for 
 the crime of being anonymously suspected. He had not for- 
 gotten the couple of hundred lashes on his bare carcass, which 
 he had received in Mr. Beresford's riding-house, but the circum- 
 stance, being of such an ordinary nature, was, of course, totally 
 forgotten by the worthy candidate, notwithstanding the tena- 
 cious sensation of the elector's loins, where many a good thick 
 welt remained to remind him of the pastime. 
 
 Horish, a coarse, rough-looking, strong-built, independent, 
 and at the moment well-dressed brute of a fellow, remained 
 quite coquettish as to his votes. "Let me see !" said he, feel- 
 ing his importance, and unwilling to part with it (which would 
 be the case the moment he had polled), and looking earnestly 
 at all the candidates — " Let me see ! who shall I vote for? — 
 I'm very hard to please, gentlemen, I assure you !" He hesi- 
 tated : we all pressed — "Fair and easy, gentlemen," sai'd 
 Horish, looking at each of us again, " don't hurry a man !" 
 
 " Barrington," cried impatient Beresford, " I know that 
 honest fellow Horish will vote for me !" Horish stared, but 
 said nothing. 
 
 " Indeed he will not," replied I, " eh, Horish !" Horish 
 looked, but remained silent. 
 
 " I'll lay you a rump and dozen" exclaimed Beresford, " on 
 the matter !" 
 
 Horish now started into a sort of animation, but coolly re- 
 plied — " You'll lose that same rump and dozen, Mr. Beresford ! 
 'twas many a dozen you gave my r — p already in the riding- 
 
RICHARD BRTNSLEY SHERIDAN. 185 
 
 house, and to the devil I bob that kind of entertainment ! but 
 if ever I have the honor of meeting you up a chimney, depend 
 on it, Mr. Beresford, I'll treat you with all the civility imagina- 
 ble ! Come, boys, we'll poll away for the counsellor!" and I 
 was supported, I believe, by every chimney-sweeper in the city 
 of Dublin (and they were many) who had votes. 
 
 ELECTION FOE, COUNTY WEXFORD. 
 
 Mr Richard Brin.sley Sheridan's Contest for County Wexford, omitted by all his Pseudo- 
 Biographers — Duel of Mr. Alcock and Mr. Colclough (Candidates on a Question Respect- 
 ing Mr. Sheridan's Poll) — Mr. Colclough Killed — A Lamentable Incident — Mr. Alcock's 
 Trial — He afterward goes Mad and dies — His Sister, Miss Alcock, also dies a Lunatic in 
 Consequence — Marquis of Ely Tried for an Outrage at Wexford, and fined. 
 
 It is to be regretted that the biographers and eulogists of 
 Richard Brinsley Sheridan should have suppressed some of the 
 most creditable incidents of his variegated life, while his 
 memory is disgraced by pretended friends and literary ad- 
 mirers. 
 
 These writers have raked up from his ashes, and exposed to 
 public indignation, every failing of that great and gifted man : 
 so that, if their OAvn productions were by any chance to become 
 permanent, they would send him down to posterity as a witty, 
 but low and dissipated sharper ; or, in their very best coloring, 
 as the most talented of mean and worthless mendicants. But 
 Sheridan's reputation will outlive all such attempts to obliterate 
 it ; while the ignorance of his libellers is conspicuous from 
 their omission of some of the most interesting events of his 
 career, at the same time that others are vouched for, which to 
 my individual knowledge are gross misrepresentations. 
 
 Among the incidents that have been overlooked is one both 
 extraordinary and melancholy, and forming an honorable com- 
 ment on Mr. Sheridan's public character. I was, myself, men- 
 tally interested in the whole transaction, and can therefore 
 give it on my own responsibility. I am, indeed, most anxious 
 to rescue his memory from the rough hands which, in sketch- 
 
186 WEXFORD ELECTION. 
 
 ing their subject, have placed the mane of a lion upon the 
 shoulders of a mountebank. 
 
 In speaking thus, I deeply regret that one of his biographers 
 should be a man whom I esteem ; and I regret it the more, 
 since he has used poor Sheridan as a chopping-block, whereon 
 to hack the character of the most illustrious person of the 
 British empire, who (for the first time in his life, I believe) 
 has been accused of pecuniary illiberality. A circumstance 
 accidentally came to my knowledge to prove that charge the 
 very reverse of truth. But an opportunity will be taken by 
 me of observing still more explicitly on these friends of Mr. 
 Sheridan. 
 
 On the general election of 1808, Mr. John Oolclough, of 
 Tintern Abbey, County Wexford, a near relative of mine (and 
 locum tenens of his elder brother, Mr. Csesar Colclough, who 
 had been long resident on the continent), declared himself for 
 the second time candidate for Wexford county, which he had 
 represented in the previous parliament. The Oolclough estates 
 were large, the freeholders thereon numerous, and devoted to 
 the interest of their patriotic leader, whose uncle, Mr. John 
 Grogan, of Johnstown castle (also a relative of mine), possessed 
 of a very large fortune and extensive tenantry, had united 
 with his nephew and other most respectable and independent 
 gentlemen of that county, to liberate its representation from 
 the trammels of certain noblemen who had for many years 
 usurped its domination. Mr. Oolclough was determined to put 
 the pride, spirit, and patriotism of the county to proof, and 
 therefore proposed Mr. Richard Brinsley Sheridan as joint- 
 candidate with himself, declaring that he was authorized by 
 the independent freeholders of the county to say, that they 
 should feel the greatest gratification in being represented by 
 so distinguished an ornament to the name of Irishman. 
 
 Mr. Colclough and Mr. Sheridan were, therefore, nominated 
 on the one hand ; and Mr. Alcock, supported by the interest 
 of the influenced electors, on the other. 
 
 Never yet was any poll conducted by more resolute, active, 
 and zealous partisans ; but it is lamentable to add, that they 
 were equally intemperate as zealous. The flame of patriotism 
 
DUEL OF ALCOCIv AND COLCLorGH. 187 
 
 bad caught the mass of the population ; tenants no longer 
 obeyed the dictates of their absent landlords, nor the menaces 
 of tyrannic agents : no man could count on the votes of his 
 former vassals. The hustings was thronged with crowds of 
 tenantry, constitutionally breaking away from their shackles, 
 and voting according to their principles of free agency for 
 Sheridan, a man known to them only by the celebrity of his 
 talents. The poll proceeded — the independent party was 
 advancing fast to success ; and, had the election continued, 
 there is no doubt but that Mr. Sheridan would have been a 
 representative for Wexford county. At this crisis occurred 
 one of the most unfortunate and melancholy events on Irish 
 record, and by which the contest was terminated — as if the 
 untoward destiny of Sheridan withered everything that came 
 in contact with it. 
 
 Several tenants of a person who had given his interest to 
 Mr. Alcock, absolutely refused to vote for that gentleman, 
 declaring that, at every risk, they would support Colclough 
 and "the great Sheridan." Mr. Alcock's partisans perverted 
 the free-agency of these men into seduction on the part of Mr. 
 Colclough : hence a feeling decidedly hostile was excited ; the 
 fierce zeal and frenzy of election partisanship burst into a 
 flame ; and Mr. Colclough was desired to decline such votes, 
 or to receive them at his peril. 
 
 Of course he disregarded this outrageous threat, and open 
 war ensued. One party lost sight of reason — both, of human- 
 ity ; and it Avas determined, that before the opening of next 
 morning's poll, the candidates should decide, by single combat, 
 the contested question, and, of course, the election itself. With 
 what indignation and horror must such a resolution, at once 
 assailing law, good morals, and decency, be now regarded ! 
 and how will the feeling of surprise increase from its being 
 passed over with impunity ! 
 
 Early on the eventful morning, many hundred people assem- 
 bled to witness the affair ; and it will scarcely be believed that 
 no less than eleven or twelve county justices stood by, passive 
 spectators of the bloody scene which followed, without an 
 effort, or apparently a wish, to stop the proceeding. 
 
188 WEXFORD ELECTION. 
 
 Botli combatants were remarkably near-sighted ; and Mr. 
 Alcock determined on wearing glasses, which was resisted by 
 the friends of Mr. Colclough, who would wear none. The 
 partisans of the former, however, persevered, and he did wear 
 them. The ground at length was marked ; the anxious crowd 
 separated on either side, as their party feelings led them ; but 
 all seemed to feel a common sense of horror and repugnance. 
 The unfeeling seconds handed to each principal a couple of 
 pistols ; and placing them about eight or nine steps asunder, 
 withdrew, leaving two gentlemen of fortune and character — 
 brother-candidates for the county — and former friends, nay, 
 intimate competitions — standing in the centre of a field, without 
 any personal offence given or received, encouraged by false 
 friends, and permitted by unworthy magistrates, to butcher 
 each other as quickly and as effectually as their position and 
 weapons would admit. 
 
 The sight was awful ! a dead silence and pause ensued : the 
 great crowd stood in motionless suspense : the combatants 
 presented : men scarcely breathed : the word was given : Mr. 
 Alcock fired first, and his friend — his companion — one of the 
 best men of Ireland, instantly fell forward, shot through the 
 heart! he spoke not — but turning on one side, his heart's 
 blood gushed forth — his limbs quivered — he groaned and ex- 
 pired. His pistol exploded after he was struck — of course 
 without effect. 
 
 The by-standers looked almost petrified. The profound 
 stillness continued for a moment, horror having seized the 
 multitude, when, on the sudden, a loud and universal yell (the 
 ancient practice of the Irish peasantry on the death of a chief- 
 tain) simultaneously burst out like a peal of thunder from every 
 quarter of the field ; a yell so savage and continuous — so like 
 the tone of revenge, that it would have appalled any stranger 
 to the customs of the country. Alcock and his partisans im- 
 mediately retreated ; those of Colclough collected round his 
 body ; and their candidate (a few moments before in health, 
 spirits, and vigor ! was mournfully borne back upon a plank 
 to the town of his nativity, and carried lifeless through those 
 
TRIAL OF ALCOCK HK GOES MAD. 189 
 
 very streets which had that morning been prepared to signalize 
 his triumph. 
 
 The election-poll, of course, proceeded without farther oppo- 
 sition : the joint friends of Colclough and Sheridan, deprived 
 of their support, and thunderstruck at the event, thought of 
 nothing but lamentation : and in one hour Mr. Alcock was 
 declared duly elected for Wexford county, solely through the 
 death of his brother-candidate, whom he had himself that 
 morning unjustly immolated. 
 
 A more wanton duel, a more unnecessary, cruel, and in all 
 points illegal transaction, never occurred in the United Em- 
 pire : yet, strange to say, of those eleven or twelve magistrates 
 who actually stood by, as amateurs, or partisans, in defiance 
 of the law and of their duty, not one was displaced or pun- 
 ished ! a precedent of impunity most discreditable to the high 
 authorities of that day, dangerous to the peace of the country, 
 and subversive of the first principles of free election. Judge 
 of Sheridan's feelings on receiving this intelligence ; and judge 
 of the correctness of his biographers, who have suppressed the 
 incident. 
 
 Nor was poor Oolclough's death the last act of the tragedy. 
 His friends thought themselves called on to prosecute^ Mr. 
 Alcock, who fled, but subsequently returned and surrendered 
 for trial. I attended, as special counsel for the prosecution. 
 Baron Smith tried the cause. The evidence was stronger than 
 I have deemed it necessary to recite. The baron stated his 
 opinion on the legal distinctions as applicable to duelling, and 
 on that opinion the bar differed. It was not the wish of the 
 prosecutors to do more than mark the transaction by a convic- 
 tion for manslaughter, which the law under the circumstances, 
 seemed to render imperative. However, the then politics of 
 Wexford juries differed not unfrequently both from the laws 
 of God and the statute-book ; and the verdict returned in this 
 instance was, to the surprise of every one, a general acquittal. 
 
 But, alas ! the acquitted duellist suffered more in mind than 
 his victim had done in body. The horror of the scene, and 
 the solemnity of the trial, combined to make a fatal inroad on 
 his reason ! He became melancholy ; his understanding grad- 
 
190 WEXFORD ELECTION. 
 
 ually declined ; a dark gloom enveloped liis entne intellect; 
 and an excellent young man and perfect gentleman at length 
 sank into irrecoverable imbecility. Goaded by the vicious 
 frenzy of election partisans, lie bad slain bis friend ; and, 
 haunted by reflection and sorrow, he ended his own days in 
 personal restraint and mental ruin. 
 
 Two other duels were fought upon the same occasion, but 
 with little injury and still less interest. Mr. Caesar Colclough 
 has since returned from the continent ; and, on the strength of 
 his late brother's popularity, was elected member for County 
 "Wexford. He has not, however, followed up the high reputa- 
 tion of that brother, nor very satisfactorily fulfilled the expec- 
 tations of his constituents. 
 
 But to this sanguinary and fatal duel there was yet another 
 sad corollary. Miss Alcock, sister of the member, had been 
 most deeply affected by the mournful catastrophe. She had 
 known Colclough long and intimately ; and being an amiable 
 and sensitive young woman, her brother's absence, his trial, 
 and his subsequent depression, kept the gloomy transaction 
 alive in her mind. Hence she also gradually wasted ; and the 
 death of her brother sinking deeper and deeper into a heart, 
 all the sources of tranquillity whereof had been dried up — her 
 reason wandered, at length fled, and she did not long survive 
 the dreadful fate of her friend and of her brother. 
 
 A trivial anecdote will suffice to exhibit the general state 
 of Wexford county, and of the aristocracy and magistracy, 
 many of whom were a disgrace to their office, and completely 
 filled up Mr. Grattan's definition of a "regal rebel" by their 
 arrogance, tyranny, oppression, and disaffection. By these 
 men the peasantry were goaded into a belief that justice was 
 banished, and so driven into the arms of the avowed rebels, 
 who used every lure to enforce their previous delusion. 
 
 A handsome young woman, maid-servant to a Mrs. Lett, who 
 was considered as a great pax 'riot (rebel) in Wexford, happened 
 one summer's evening to sit at her mistress's window singing 
 songs, but to certain airs that were not considered orthodox by 
 the aristocracy. 
 
 The marquis of Ely, with the high-sheriff and other gentle- 
 
A WAY TO PRESERVE THE PEACE. 191 
 
 men of the county, were retiring after their wine from the 
 grand-jury, and heard this unfortunate young siren warbling 
 at the window : but as the song sounded to their loyal ears of 
 a rebellious tendency, it was thought advisable to demolish the 
 fragile parts of Mrs. Lett's house-front without delay ; and ac- 
 cordingly, my lord, the high-sheriff, and their friends (to pre- 
 serve the peace, and protect the constitution from such traitor- 
 ous maid-servants), forthwith commenced their laudable under- 
 taking ; and stones being the weapons nearest at hand, the 
 windows and the warbling maid received a broadside, which 
 was of the greatest utility to the glazier, and had well nigh 
 put fees into the pockets, not only of the surgeon, but of the 
 sexton and coroner likewise. 
 
 However, on this occasion, justice was not so far off as the 
 peasants had been persuaded. My lord, the high-sheriff, and 
 others, being indicted and tried, I had the honor of being his 
 lordship's counsel ; and as our duty was to make " the worse 
 appear the better cause" I certainly did my utmost for the 
 marquis : but his lordship, conceiving my delicacy to the maid- 
 servant rather too great, requested permission to ask her a few 
 questions himself, which was granted. 
 
 " Now, girl," said the marquis, " by the oath you have taken, 
 did you not say you would split my skull open ?" 
 
 " Why, then, by the virtue of my oath," said the girl, turn- 
 ing to the judge, " it would not be worth my while to split his 
 skull open, my lord !" 
 
 "Ha! ha!" said the marquis, "now I have her!" (wisely 
 supposing she made some allusion to a reward for killing him) 
 — " and why, girl, would it be not worth your while?" 
 
 " Because, my lord," answered she, " if I had split your lord- 
 ship's skull open — by virtue of my oath, I am sure and certain 
 I should have found little or nothing inside of it !" 
 
 The laugh against the noble marquis was now too great to 
 admit of his proceeding any further with his cross-examination. 
 He was found guilty, and fined. 
 
192 WEDDED LIFE. 
 
 WEDDED LIFE. 
 
 Lord Clonmell, Chief- Justice of the Irish Court of King's Bench— His Character— Lady 
 Tyrawly's False Charge against him — Consequent Duel between him and Lord Tyrawly 
 — Eclaircissement — Lord Tyrawly and Miss Wewitzer — Lord Clonm<dl's Hints " How to 
 Rule a Wife" — Subsequent Conversation with his Lordship at Sir John Tydd's. 
 
 The first chief-judge who favored me with his intimacy was 
 Lord Clonmell, chief-justice of the king's bench. His charac- 
 ter appears at full length in my " Historical Memoirs of Ire- 
 land," page 38, and a curious but true character it is. I was 
 introduced to his lordship's notice through Sir John Tydd, and 
 received from him many instances of kind attention ; and he 
 gave me, early in life, some of the very best practical maxims. 
 As he was one of the celebrated official " fire-eaters" (whom I 
 shall hereafter mention), and fought several duels, it may be 
 amusing to copy here, from the work in question, a few distin- 
 guishing traits of his lordship : " Mr. Scott never omitted one 
 favorable opportunity of serving himself. His skill was unri- 
 valled, and his success proverbial. He was full of anecdotes, 
 though not the most refined : these in private society he not 
 only told, but acted ; and, when he perceived that he had made 
 a very good exhibition, he immediately withdrew, that he 
 might leave the most lively impression of his pleasantry be- 
 hind him. His boldness was his first introduction — his policy 
 his ultimate preferment. Courageous, vulgar, humorous, arti- 
 ficial, he knew the world well, and he profited by that knowl- 
 edge : he cultivated the powerful ; he bullied the timid ; he 
 fought the brave ; he flattered the vain ; he duped the credu- 
 lous ; and he amused the convivial. Half-liked, half-repro- 
 bated, he was too high to be despised, and too low to be re- 
 spected. His language was coarse, and his principles arbitrary ; 
 but his passions were his slaves, and his cunning was his in- 
 strument. In public and in private he was the same character ; 
 and, though a most fortunate man and a successful courtier, he 
 had scarcely a sincere friend or a disinterested adherent." 
 
 His duel with Lord Tyrawly was caused and attended by 
 
A DERNIER RESORT. 193 
 
 circumstances which combine to form a curious narrative. 
 Lady Tyrawly had an utter dislike for her husband (then the 
 Honorable James Cuffe). They had no children, and she 
 made various efforts to induce him to consent to a total sepa- 
 ration. There being no substantial cause for such a measure, 
 Mr. Cuffe looked upon it as ridiculous, and would not consent. 
 At length, the lady hit upon an excellent mode for carrying 
 her wishes into effect, and insuring a separate maintenance : 
 but I never heard of the precedent being followed. 
 
 Mr. Cuffe found her one day in tears, a thing not frequent 
 with her ladyship, who had a good deal of the Amazon about 
 her. She sobbed — threw herself on her knees — went through 
 the usual evolutions of a repentant female — and, at length, 
 told her husband that she was unworthy of his future protec- 
 tion — had been faithless to him, and was a lost and guilty 
 woman ! 
 
 I suppose there is a routine of contrition, explanation, rage, 
 honor, &c, &c, which generally attends developments of this 
 nature ; and I take for granted that the same was duly per- 
 formed by the Honorable Mr. and Mrs. Cuffe. Suffice it to say 
 that the latter was put into a sedan-chair and ordered out of 
 the house forthwith to private lodgings, until it was the will 
 of her injured lord to send a deed of annuity for her support. 
 
 Mr. Cuffe next proceeded to summon a friend, and inform 
 him that his wife had owned " that villain Scott," the attorney- 
 general, and the pretended friend of his family, to be her se- 
 ducer! — that not his love, but his honor, was so deeply con- 
 cerned, as to render the death of one or the other necessary: 
 and, without further ceremony, a message was sent, for mortal 
 combat, to the attorney-general, urging the lady's confession, 
 his own dishonorable breach of trust, and Mr. Cuffe's determi- 
 nation to fight him. 
 
 Mr. Scott, well knowing that a declaration of innocence 
 would by the world be considered either as honorable perjury 
 on his part, to save Mrs. Cuffe's reputation, or as a mode of 
 screening himself from her husband's vengeance (and in no 
 case be believed even by the good-natured part of society), 
 made up his mind for the worst. 
 
 9 
 
194 WEDDED LIFE. 
 
 The husband and supposed gallant accordingly met, and ex- 
 changed shots : and each party having heard the bullets 
 humanely whiz past his ears, without indicating a desire of 
 becoming more intimately acquainted, Mr. Scott told his antag- 
 onist that he was totally mistaken, and gave his honor that 
 he never had the slightest familiarity with the lady, who, h* 
 concluded, must have lost her reason. 
 
 There was no cause for denying credence to this ; while, on 
 the other hand, it Avas but too likely that Mr. Cuffe had been 
 tricked by his lady-wife. She was sure of a separation, for he 
 had turned her out : and, if he had fallen on the field of honor, 
 she had a noble jointure ; so that she was in utrumque imrata 
 — secure under every chance. 
 
 On his return, he sent a most severe reprimand ; and an- 
 nounced but a moderate annuity, which she instantly and haugh- 
 tily refused, positively declaring that she never had made any 
 confession of guilt ; that the whole was a scheme of his own 
 vicious jealousy, to get rid of her ; and that she had only said 
 he might just as iccll suspect the attorney-general, who had 
 never said a civil thing to her, as anybody else. She dared him 
 \ to prove the least impropriety on her part ; and yet he had cru- 
 elly turned her out of his house, and proclaimed his innocent 
 wife to be a guilty woman ! 
 
 Mr. Cuffe saw she had been too many for him, every way ! 
 He durst not give more publicity to the affair ; and therefore 
 agreed to allow her a very handsome annuity, whereon she 
 lived a happy life, and died but a few years since. 
 
 The subsequent connection of Lord Tyrawly had likewise a 
 singular termination. Miss Wewitzer, sister to the late cele- 
 brated violinist of that name, soon filled Mrs. Cuffe's vacant 
 place; and by her, my lord had many children — the eldest 
 being the present Colonel Cuffe, member of parliament for 
 Mayo. I never saw two persons live more happily together 
 than Lord Tyrawly and Miss Wewitzer. She was unexcep- 
 tionably correct, and he very much attached to her. She had 
 been remarkably pretty, and celebrated as a Rosctta (in Bick- 
 erstafPs opera). I was intimate with Lord Tyrawly, and have 
 a very great regard for Colonel Cuffe. 
 
LOKD TYKAAVLY AND MISS WEWITZER. 195 
 
 The death of Lady Tyrawly at length gave his lordship the 
 long-expected opportunity of realizing his promises and inten- 
 tions for the sake of his family ; and Lord Tyrawly and Miss 
 WeAvitzer being regularly married, she became the real Lady 
 Tyrawly — whom she had so many years represented. 
 
 Now, here was a cohabitation of considerably more than 
 twenty years, in happiness and tranquillity, followed up by an 
 honorable and just arrangement, wherefrom it might be ra- 
 tionally supposed an increase of happiness would ensue. But, 
 on the contrary, no sooner did the parties become legally man 
 and wife, than Madam Discord introduced herself! It is sin- 
 gular, but true, that (as if Nature originally intended every 
 living thing to remain totally free and independent) the mo- 
 ment any two animals, however fond before, are fastened to- 
 gether by a chain they can not break, they begin to quarrel I 
 without apparent reason, and peck each other solely because 
 they can't get loose again. 
 
 So it was with my Lord and Lady Tyrawly : every hour 
 added fresh fuel to the flame. At length (to continue my 
 pretty simile), the chain became red hot — neither of them 
 could bear it longer — and the whole affair ended in a volun- 
 tary and most uncomfortable separation ! However, it was 
 only for a short time. Death, always fond of doing mischief 
 in families, very soon brought them together again ; and if 
 such a thing can be conceived as possible in the other world, 
 it is no bad conjecture that at this moment my Lord Tyrawly, 
 the two Lady Tyrawlys, and Lord Clonmell, are regretting 
 what fools they were in giving themselves so much uneasiness 
 upon subjects which only passed like shadows, instead of turn- 
 ing their minds to what might have been much more material." 
 
 I recollect one of Lord Clonmell's maxims was, " Whatever * 
 must be done in the course of the week, always do it on the 
 Monday morning :" and, in truth, whoever practises that rule, 
 will find it in no slight degree convenient. I never did. 
 
 Immediately after I was married, I resided next door to 
 Lord Clonmell, in Harcourt street. He called on me most 
 kindly, and took me to walk over his line gardens and laAvn ; 
 and was so humorous and entertaining, that his condescension 
 
196 WEDDED LIFE. 
 
 (as I then felt it) quite delighted me ; but I afterward found 
 out that he made a point of discovering every young man 
 likely to succeed in public life, and took the earliest moment 
 possible of being so civil as to insure a friend, if not a, partisan, 
 and no man wanted the latter more than his lordship. 
 
 " Barrington," said he to me, " you are married ?" 
 
 "No doubt," said I, laughingly, " as tight as any person on* 
 the face of the earth." 
 
 " All women in the world," rejoined his lordship, " are fond 
 of having their own way." 
 
 " I am firmly of your opinion, my lord," said I. 
 
 " Now," pursued he, " the manner in which all wives are 
 spoiled, is by giving them their own way at first ; for whatever 
 you accustom them to at the beginning, they will expect ever 
 after : so mind me ! I'll tell you the secret of ruling a wife, 
 if known in time : ' Never do anything for peace-sake ;' if you_ 
 do, you'll never have one hour's tranquillity but by concession 
 — mind that !" 
 
 " I firmly believe it," exclaimed I. 
 
 " Well," said he, "practise it !" 
 
 Sometime after, I met his lordship at Lamberton, Queen's 
 county, the seat of Sir John Tydd. He related the above 
 story, and asked me if I had taken his advice. " No," said I. 
 
 " Why ?" inquired his lordship. 
 
 " Because," replied I, " a j^iilosoplier has an easier life of it 
 than a soldier." 
 
 I had the laugh against him, and the more particularly as 
 his lordship had married a second wife, Miss Lawless (the pres- 
 ent dowager), and I believe no husband in Ireland adhered 
 less to his own maxim than did Lord Clonmell after that union. 
 
FIKST ACQUAINTANCE WITH DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 197 
 
 DUKE OF WELLINGTON AND MARQUIS OF 
 LONDONDERRY. 
 
 My first Acquaintance with the Duke of Wellington and the late Marquis of Londonderry, 
 at a Dinner at my own House — Some Memoirs and Anecdotes of the Former as a Public 
 Man — My close Connection with Government — Lord Clare's Animosity to me suspended 
 — Extraordinary Conference between Lord Castlereagh, Mr. Cooke, and me, in August, 
 1798 — Singular Communication — Offers made to me for Succession as Solicitor-General 
 — I decline the Terms proposed — Lord Castlereagh's Letter to me — Character of Mr. 
 Pelham, now Earl of Chichester. 
 
 My personal acquaintance with the duke of Wellington origi- 
 nated accidentally, soon after I commenced public life ; and so 
 clearly shows the versatility of men, the fallibility of judgment, 
 and the total uncertainty of all human prediction, that I can 
 not avoid mentioning it. 
 
 In 1793, when I was in high repute, most prosperous at the 
 bar, living in the first ranks of society, a distinguished favorite 
 at the vice-regal court, and designated as a candidate for the 
 first offices of my profession — I occasionally gave large, splen- 
 did dinners, according to the habit invariably adopted in those 
 times by persons circumstanced like myself. At one of those 
 entertainments, Major Hobart (Lord Buckinghamshire) ; Sir 
 John Parnel ; Isaac Cony ; I think, Lord Limerick ; Sir John 
 (afterward Lord) De Blacquiere ; and Lords Llandaff, Dillon, 
 Yelverton ; the speaker — in all, upward of twenty noblemen 
 and commoners — did me the honor of partaking of my fare. 
 Lord Clonmell sent me his two grand cooks, and a most cheer- 
 ful party was predicted. The house had sat late that day, 
 and etiquette never permitted us to go to dinner, where the 
 speaker was a guest, until his arrival, unless he had especially 
 desired us to do so. 
 
 The speaker did not join us till nine o'clock, when Sir John 
 Parnel brought with him, and introduced to me, Captain Welles- 
 ley and Mr. Stewart, two young members, who having remained 
 in the house, he had insisted on their coming with him to my 
 dinner, where he told them good cheer and a hearty welcome 
 would be found ; and in this he was not mistaken. 
 
198 WELLINGTON AND LONDONDERRY. 
 
 Captain Arthur Wellesley had, in 1790, been returned to 
 parliament, for Trim, County Meath, a borough under the pa- 
 tronage of his brother, the earl of Mornington. He was then 
 ruddy-faced and juvenile in appearance, and popular enough 
 among the young men of his age and station. His address 
 was unpolished ; he occasionally spoke in parliament, but not 
 successfully, and never on important subjects ; and evinced no 
 promise of that unparalleled celebrity and splendor which he 
 has since reached, and whereto intrepidity and decision, good 
 luck and great* military science, have justly combined to ele- 
 vate him. 
 
 Lord Castlereagh was the son of Mr. Stewart, a country 
 gentleman, generally accounted to be a very clever man, in 
 the north of Ireland. He was a professed and not very mod- 
 erate patriot, and at one time carried his ideas of opposition 
 exceedingly far, becoming a leading member of the reform and 
 liberal societies. 
 
 Lord Castlereagh began his career in the Irish parliament, 
 by a motion for a committee to inquire into the representation 
 of the people, with the ulterior object of a reform in parliament. 
 He made a good speech and had a majority in the house, which 
 he certainly did not expect, and I am sure did not wish for. 
 He was unequal and unwilling to push that point to farther 
 trial ; the matter cooled in a few days ; and after the next di- 
 vision, was deserted entirely. Mr. Stewart, however, after that 
 speech was considered as a very clever young man, and in all 
 points well taught and tutored by his father, whose marriage 
 with the marquis of Camden's sister, was the remote cause 
 of all his future successes — how sadly terminated ! 
 
 At the period to which I allude, I feel confident, nobody 
 could have predicted that one of those young gentlemen would 
 become the most celebrated English general of his era, and 
 the other, one of the most mischievous statesmen and unfortu- 
 nate ministers that has ever appeared in modern Europe. 
 However, it is observable that to the personal intimacy and 
 reciprocal friendship of those two individuals, they mutually 
 owed the extent of their respective elevation and celebrity : 
 Sir Arthur "Wellesley never would have had the chief com- 
 
WELLINGTON IN EARLY LIFE. 199 
 
 mand in Spain, but for the ministerial manoeuvring and aid of 
 Lord Castlereagh ; and Lord Castlereagh never could have 
 stood his ground as a minister, but for Lord Wellington's suc- 
 cesses. 
 
 At my house, the evening passed amidst that glow of well- 
 bred, witty, and cordial vinous conviviality, which was, I be- 
 lieve, peculiar to high society in Ireland. 
 
 From that night I became rather intimate with Captain 
 Wellesley and Mr. Stewart ; and perceived certain amiable 
 qualities in both, which a change of times, or the intoxication 
 of prosperity, certainly in some degree tended to diminish. 
 Indeed, if Lord Wellington had continued until now the same 
 frank, openhearted man, he certainly must have been better 
 proof against those causes which usually excite a metamorpho- 
 sis of human character than any one who had ever preceded 
 him. Still, if possible, he would have been a greater man ; at 
 least, he would have better drawn the distinction between a 
 warrior and a hero — terms not altogether synonymous. Many 
 years subsequently to the dinner-party I have mentioned, I 
 one day met Lord Castlereagh in the Strand, and a gentleman 
 with him. His lordship stopped me, whereat I was rather sur- 
 prised, as we had not met for some time ; he spoke very kindly, 
 smiled, and asked if I had forgotten my old friend Sir Arthur 
 Wellesley ? whom I discovered in his companion ; but looking 
 so sallow and wan, and with every mark of what is called a 
 wornout man, that I was truly concerned at his appearance. 
 But he soon recovered his health and looks, and went as the 
 duke of Richmond's secretary to Ireland ; where he was in all 
 material traits still Sir Arthur Wellesley — but it was Sir Ar- 
 thur Wellesley judiciously improved. He had not forgotten 
 his friends, nor did he forget himself. He said that he had ac- 
 cepted the office of secretary only on the terms that it should 
 not impede or interfere with his military pursuits ; and what 
 he said proved true, for he was soon sent, as second in com- 
 mand, with Lord Cathcart to Copenhagen, to break through 
 the law of nations, and execute the most distinguished piece 
 of treachery that history records. 
 
 On Sir Arthur's return he recommenced his duty of secre- 
 
200 WELLINGTON AND LONDONDERRY. 
 
 tary ; and during his residence in Ireland, in thai capacity, I 
 did not hear one complaint against any part of his conduct 
 either as a public or private man. He was afterward appointed 
 to command in Spain ; an appointment solicited, and I believe 
 expected, by Sir John Doyle. It might be entertaining to 
 speculate on the probable state of Europe at present, if Sir 
 John had been then appointed generalissimo. I do not mean 
 to infer any disparagement to the talents of Sir John, but he 
 might have pursued a different course, not calculated, as in 
 Sir Arthur's instance, to have decided (for the time being) the 
 fate of Europe. 
 
 A few days before Sir Arthur's departure for Spain, I re- 
 quested him to spend a day with me, which he did. The com- 
 pany was not very large, but some of Sir Arthur's military 
 friends were among the party : the late Sir Charles Asgill, the 
 present General Meyrick, &c, &c. I never saw him more 
 cheerful or happy. The bombardment of Copenhagen being 
 by chance stated as a topic of remark, I did not join in its 
 praise ; but, on the other hand, muttered that I never did nor 
 should approve of it. 
 
 " Damn it, Barrington," said Sir Arthur, " why ? what do 
 you mean to say %" — " I say, Sir Arthur," replied I, " that it 
 was the very best devised, the very best executed, and the 
 most just and necessary * robbery and murder' now on record !" 
 He laughed, and adjourned to the drawing-room, where Lady 
 B. had a ball and supper as a finish for the departing hero. 
 
 In 1815, having been shut up in Paris during the siege, I 
 went out to Niyelly, to pay a visit to the duke before our troops 
 got into the city. I had not seen him since the last day he 
 dined at my own house ; but he had intermediately much 
 changed. 
 
 I knew his grace when Captain Wellesley — Sir Arthur 
 Wellesley — Secretary Wellesley — Embassador "Wellesley — 
 and duke of Wellington. In the first stage of this career, I 
 was his equal ; in the last, nobody is. However, it is a fine 
 reflection for the contemporaries of great people, that it will 
 be " all the same a hundred years hence !" and heroes and 
 diplomatists, &c, must either become very good-tempered fel- 
 
CAPITULATION OF PARIS. 201 
 
 lows when they meet in the Elysian fields, or — there must 
 be a very strong police to keep them in order.* 
 
 I was present in one of the French chambers when the ques- 
 tion of capitulation was discussed ; and most undoubtedly Mar- 
 shal Ney supported that measure upon the basis of a generul 
 amnesty. On any other, it never would have been listened to ; 
 the battle would have taken place early next morning ; and 
 the duke of Wellington would have had to contest the most 
 sanguinary and desperate engagement of his day with a numer- 
 ous and well-appointed army, frantic with zeal to revenge their 
 disgrace at Waterloo. This I know ; for I was (truly against 
 the grain) kept more than twelve hours in the midst of it at 
 Vilette, two days before the capitulation. Of this more will 
 be seen on subsequent pages. I can not but remark, that if 
 Ney had been pardoned, and the horses not sent to Venice, 
 the spirit of the capitulation would have been more strictly 
 adhered to. 
 
 I must be rightly understood respecting Lord Londonderry, 
 to whom, individually, I never had the slight objection.' As 
 a private gentleman, I always found him friendly, though cold ; 
 and fair, though ambiguous. I never knew him break his 
 word, and believe him to have been perfectly honorable upon 
 every subject of private interest. But here my eulogy must 
 close ; for, with regard to public character, his lordship must, 
 I fear, be pronounced corrupt. When determined on a point, 
 nothing could stop him. In Ireland, his career was distin- 
 guished by public bribery and palpable misrepresentations — 
 
 * The following unpublished lines, by one of the most talented young 
 ladies I ever met, depict the frivolity and short-lived nature of human van- 
 ities more forcibly than a hundred sermons : — 
 
 "The kingdoms of the world have passed away, 
 And its strong empires mouldered into dust, 
 Swift as the changes of a poet's dream: 
 And kings and heroes, and the mighty minds 
 Whose hopes circled eternity, and seized 
 The stars as their inheritance, and grew 
 Too big for mortal frames — until they sank 
 Into the narrow bounds of nature : — 
 These are the things which, even nameless now, 
 Are on the earth forgot — or, if retained, 
 Of power, of life, and motion, all bereft 1" 
 
 9* 
 
202 WELLINGTON AND LONDONDERRY. 
 
 of which assertion, had I not indisputable and ample proof, I 
 would not hazard it. 
 
 Mr. Pelham (now earl of Chichester) was secretary to Lord 
 Camden, when lord lieutenant. I had the good fortune and 
 pleasure (for it was a great pleasure to me) to he on very 
 friendly terms with this amiable and engaging gentleman, and 
 have seldom met with any public personage I liked so well — 
 moderate, honorable, sufficiently firm and sufficiently spirited : 
 I had a real gratification in attaching myself not only to his 
 measures, but to his society. In all our intercourse (which 
 ceased with his departure) I found him candid and just, and 
 experienced at his hands several public acts of kindness. 
 
 Mr. Pelham's parliamentary talents were not of a splendid 
 order. The people of Ireland never required sta?s for minis- 
 ters ; but a fair and candid secretary was a great treat to them, 
 and Mr. Pelham was making full way in public estimation. 
 The last day I ever saw him in Ireland, he and his brother-in- 
 law, Lord Sheffield, did me the favor of dining with me in 
 Merrion square. I perceived he was uncommonly dull, and 
 regretted the circumstances much; he obviously grew Avorse — 
 at length laid his head upon the table, and when he departed 
 was extremely ill : next day he was in a violent fever, his life 
 was long despaired of, he recovered with difficulty, and on his 
 recovery returned to England. Mr. Stewart (by marriage the 
 lord lieutenant's nephew) was named locum tenens during Mr. 
 Pelham's absence, or (should he not return) until the appoint- 
 ment of another secretary. But he was soon discovered by 
 his employers to be fit for any business ; and as it had been 
 long in the secret contemplation of the British ministry to ex- 
 tinguish the Irish parliament, either by fraud or force — and 
 Lord Camden being considered too inactive (perhaps too con- 
 scientious and honorable) to resort to either of those weapons, 
 it was determined to send over an old servant-of-all-work, who 
 had fought till he was beaten, and negotiated till he was out- 
 witted. This person (Lord Cornwallis), with the assistance of 
 his young secretary, would stop at nothing necessary to effect 
 the purpose, and they could between them, carry a measure 
 which few other persons at that period, durst have attempted. 
 
THE OFFICE OF SOLICITOR-GENERAL. 203 
 
 These fragments are not intended as political episodes. The 
 result of that coalition everybody knows : I shall only state 
 so much of the transaction as relates to my own individual 
 concerns. I had an interview with Lord Castlereagh, some 
 time after he came into office, at Mr. Cooke's chambers. He 
 told me he understood I expected to be the next solicitor-gen- 
 eral, and had applied for the office. I answered, that I not 
 only expected as much, but considered myself, under all cir- 
 cumstances, entitled to that preferment. He and Mr. Cooke 
 both said " yes ;" and recommended me to make my "party 
 good with Lord Clare," who had expressed " no indisposition" 
 to the appointment. Had I not been supposed of some use to 
 the government, I do not doubt but Lord Clare would have 
 j)referred many other more subservient gentry of my profes- 
 sion. But he knew that although Lord Westmoreland, on 
 leaving Ireland, had made no express stipulation, he had sub- 
 sequently gone as far as he could with Lord Camden, for my 
 promotion. Lord Clare played me off cleverly until, in the 
 month of August, 1799, I was sent for in private by the secre- 
 tary, Edward Cooke, who had been a particular confidential 
 friend of mine for several years. Having first enjoined secresy 
 as to our conference, he told me that a measure of great im- 
 port had been under consideration in the English cabinet, and 
 might possibly be acted on : and then proceeding to acquaint 
 me that Lord Clare had made no objection to my promotion, 
 he asked in so many words if I would support the " question 
 of ' a union,' if it should be brought forward ?" I was struck 
 as if by a shot ! I had no idea of such a thing being now 
 seriously contemplated, although I had often heard of it as a 
 measure suggested in 1763. My mind had never any doubts 
 upon the degrading subject, all thoughts whereof had been 
 considered as banished for ever by the volunteers of 1782. I 
 therefore replied at once, "No, never !" — " You'll think better 
 of it, Barrington !" said he. "Never, by — !" rejoined I: 
 "never!" and the discussion was dropped, nor did I confide 
 it to any save one individual, who differed with me very much, 
 at least as to the mode of refusal. 
 
 I was determined, however, to know how the matter really 
 
204 WELLINGTON AND LONDONDERRY. 
 
 stood ; and, without touching on the late conversation, desired 
 to he apprized whether they preserved the intention of appoint- 
 ing me solicitor-general. I received no other answer than the 
 following letter from Lord Castlereagh, without any explana- 
 tion ; hut it was enveloped in a very long one from Mr. Cooke, 
 headed "strictly private;" and, therefore, of course, still re- 
 maining so. 
 
 " September 7, 1799. 
 " My Dear Sir : — I am directed hy his excellency, the 
 lord-lieutenant, to assure you, that he would he glad to avail 
 himself of any proper opportunity of complying with your 
 wishes : and that he regrets much, he is at present so particu- 
 larly circumstanced with respect to the office of solicitor- 
 general, that he feels it impossible to gratify your desire as to 
 that appointment. I should, myself, have been very happy 
 had I been able to communicate to you a more favorable result. 
 
 Dear sir, yours very sincerely, 
 
 '• Castlereagh." 
 
 I never had anything more to do with the successive govern- 
 ments of Ireland,* and have used all forbearance in giving my 
 opinion of Irish lord-chancellors, except Mr. Ponsonby, whom 
 nobody ever heard me praise as a very great lawyer, but whom 
 everybody has heard me term a just judge, and an honest, 
 friendly man. 
 
 Of Lord Camden, I believe, there was no second opinion in 
 the circle wherein I moved — a better man could not be; but 
 instead of governing, he was governed : and intimately ac- 
 quainted as I was with every procedure and measure during 
 his administration in Ireland, I do most fully acquit him, 
 individually, of the outrageous, impolitic, and ill-judged meas- 
 ures which distinguished his rule. As to Lord Clare, he Avas 
 despotic, and the greatest enemy Ireland ever had. His father 
 had been a Roman catholic, and intended for a priest, but 
 changed his tenets, became a barrister of great and just celeb- 
 rity, and left many children. 
 
 * Lord Castlereagh's letter to me put, in fact, a civil end to my dreams 
 of promotion. 
 
QUARREL WITH LORD NORBURY. 205 
 
 Lord Clare was latterly my most inveterate enemy ; the 
 cause shall be no secret ; it arose from a vicious littleness of 
 mind scarcely credible, and proves to me that implacability of 
 temper never exists without its attendant faults ; and although 
 it may be deprecated by cringing, is seldom influenced by 
 feelings of generosity. 
 
 LORD NORBURY. 
 
 Quarrel between Lord Norbury and the Author in the House of Commons — Curran's Bon- 
 mot — Dinner at Lord Redesdale's, who attempts being Agreeable, but is annoyed by 
 Lord Norbury (then Mr. Toler) — Counsellor O'Farrell— Mr. Plunkett (present Attorney- 
 General for Ireland), and Lord Redesdale — Lord Norbury and Young Burke — His Lord- 
 ship presides at Carlow Assizes in the Character of Hawthorn. 
 
 Lord Norbury (then Mr. Toler) went circuit as judge the 
 first circuit I went as barrister. He continued my friend as 
 warmly as he possibly could be the friend of any one, and I 
 thought he was in earnest. One evening, however, coming hot 
 from Lord Clare's (at that time my proclaimed enemy), he 
 attacked me with an after-dinner volubility, which hurt and 
 roused me very much. I kept indifferent bounds myself: but 
 he was generally so very good-tempered, that I really felt a 
 repugnance to indulging him with as tart a reply as a stranger 
 would have received, and simply observed, that " I should only 
 just give him that character which developed itself by his 
 versatility — namely, that he had a hand for every man, and a 
 heart for nobody /" and I believe the sarcasm has stuck to him 
 from that day to this. He returned a very warm answer, gave 
 me a wink, and made his exit — of course, I followed. The 
 sergeant-at-arms was instantly sent by the speaker to pursue 
 us with his attendants, and to bring both refractory members 
 back to the house. Toler was caught by the skirts of his coat 
 fastening in a door, and they laid hold of him just as the skirts 
 were torn completely off. I was overtaken (while running 
 away) in Nassau street, and, as I resisted, was brought like a 
 sack on a man's shoulders, to the admiration of the mob, and 
 thrown down in the body of the house. The speaker told us, 
 
206 LORD NOKBUKY. 
 
 we must give our honors forthwith that the matter should 
 proceed no farther. Toler got up to defend himself; hut as he 
 then had no skirts to his coat, made a most ludicrous figure ; 
 and Curran put a finishing-stroke to the comicality of the scene, 
 hy gravely saying, that " it was the most unparalleled insult 
 ever offered to the house ! as it appeared that one honorable 
 member had trimmed another honorable member's jacket within 
 these walls, and nearly within view of the speaker !" A 
 general roar of laughter ensued. I gave my honor, as required, 
 I think with more good-will than Toler ; and would willingly 
 have forgotten the affair altogether, which he apparently never 
 did. I only hope, that, when his memory declines (which time 
 can not be very far off now), our quarrel will be the first circum- 
 stance that slips it. If I could forget anything, I should long 
 ago have lost all recollection thereof. 
 
 Lord Norbury had more readiness of repartee than any man 
 I ever knew who possessed neither classical wit nor genuine 
 sentiment to make it valuable. But he had a fling at every- 
 thing; and, failing in one attempt, made another — sure of 
 carrying his point before he relinquished his efforts. His 
 extreme good temper was a great advantage. The present 
 Lord Redesdale was much (though unintentionally) annoyed 
 by Mr. Toler, at one of the first dinners he gave (as lord-chan- 
 cellor of Ireland) to the judges and king's counsel. Having 
 heard that the members of the Irish bar (of whom he was then 
 quite ignorant) were considered extremely witty, and being 
 desirous, if possible, to adapt himself to their habits, his lord- 
 ship had obviously got together some of his best bar-remarks 
 (for of wit he was totally guiltless, if not inapprehensive), to 
 repeat to his company, as occasion might offer ; and if he could 
 not be humorous, determined at least to be entertaining. 
 
 The first of his lordship's observations after dinner, was the 
 telling us that he had been a Welsh judge, and had found 
 great difficulty in pronouncing the double consonants which 
 occur in the Welsh proper names. " After much trial," con- 
 tinued his lordship, " I found that the difficulty was mastered by 
 moving the tongue alternately from one dog-tooth to the other." 
 
 Toler seemed quite delighted with this discovery ; and re- 
 
HIS READINESS OF REPARTEE. 207 
 
 quested to know his lordship's dentist, as he had lost one of 
 his dog-teeth, and would immediately get another in place of 
 it. This went off flatly enough — no laugh being gained on 
 either side. 
 
 Lord Redesdale's next remark was, that when he was a lad, 
 cock-fighting was the fashion ; and that both ladies and gen- 
 tlemen went full-dressed to the cock-pit, the ladies being in 
 hoops. 
 
 " I see now, my lord," said Toler, " it was then that the 
 term cock-a-hoop was invented." 
 
 A general laugh now burst forth, which rather discomposed 
 the learned chancellor. He sat for a while silent ; until ska- 
 ting became a subject of conversation, when his lordship rallied 
 — and with an air of triumph said, that in his boyhood all 
 danger was avoided; for, before they began to skate they 
 always put blown bladders under their arms ; and so, if the ice 
 happened to break, they were buoyant and saved. 
 
 "Ay, my lord !" said Toler, " that's what we call blatheram- 
 skate in Ireland."* 
 
 His lordship did not understand the sort of thing at all ; and, 
 though extremely courteous, seemed to wish us all at our 
 respective homes. Having failed with Toler, in order to say 
 a civil thing or two, he addressed himself to Mr. Garrat OFar- 
 rall, a jolly Irish barrister, who always carried a parcel of 
 coarse, national humor about with him ; a broad, squat, ruddy- 
 faced fellow, with a great aquiline nose and a humorous eye. 
 Independent in mind and property, he generally said whatever 
 came uppermost. " Mr. Garrat O'Farrell," said the chancellor, 
 solemnly, " I believe your name and family were very respecta- 
 ble and numerous in County Wicklow. I think I was intro- 
 duced to several of them during my late tour there." 
 
 " Yes, my lord," said O'Farrell, " we were very numerous : 
 but so many of us have been lately hanged for sheep-stealing, 
 that the name is getting rather scarce in that county." 
 
 His lordship said no more, and so far as respect for a new 
 chancellor admitted, we got into our own line of conversation 
 without his assistance. His lordship, by degrees, began to un- 
 * An Irish vulvar idiom for "nonsense." 
 
208 LORD NOEEUEY. 
 
 derstand some jokes a few minutes after they were uttered. 
 An occasional smile discovered his enlightenment ; and, at the 
 breaking up, I really think his impression was, that we were a 
 pleasant, though not very comprehensible race, possessing at a 
 dinner-table much more good-fellowship than special pleading ; 
 and that he would have a good many of his old notions to get 
 rid of before he could completely cotton to so dissimilar a body : 
 but he was extremely polite. Chief Justice Downs, and a few 
 more of our high, cold sticklers for " decorum," were quite 
 uneasy at this skirmishing. 
 
 r never met a cold-blooded ostentatious man of office, whom 
 I did not feel pleasure in mortifying : an affectation of sang- 
 froid is necessary neither to true dignity nor importance, and 
 generally betrays the absence of many amiable qualities. 
 
 I never saw Lord Redesdale more puzzled than at one of 
 Plunkett's hestjeux d'csprits. A cause was argued in chancery, 
 wherein the plaintiff prayed that the defendant should be re- 
 strained from suing him on certain bills of exchange, as they 
 were nothing but kites. " Kites !" exclaimed Lord Redesdale : 
 " Kites, Mr. Plunkett ? Kites never could amount to the value 
 of those securities ! I don't understand this statement at all, 
 Mr. Plunkett." 
 
 " It is not to be expected that you should, my lord," answer- 
 ed Plunkett, " in England and in Ireland, kites are quite 
 different things. In England, the wind raises the kites ; but 
 in Ireland, the kites raise the wind. 
 
 " I do not feel any way better informed yet, Mr. Plunkett," 
 said the matter-of-fact chancellor. 
 
 " Well, my lord, I'll explain the thing without mentioning 
 those birds of prey," and therewith he elucidated the difficulty. 
 
 Lord Redesdale never could pronounce the name of Mr. Col- 
 clough, a suitor in the chancery court. It was extremely 
 amusing to hear how he labored to get it off his tongue, but 
 quite in vain ! Callcloff was his nearest effort. I often wished 
 I could recommend him to try his dog-teeth. 
 
 On the discussion of the catholic bill, in 1792, Lord West- 
 moreland, then lord-lieutenant of Ireland, certainly did not 
 approve of the precipitate measures wished for by his secretary, 
 
YOUNG BURKE AND THE CATHOLIC PETITION. 209 
 
 Major Hobart, afterward earl of Buckinghamshire. I had the 
 honor of distinctly knowing the sentiments of both, and clearly 
 saw the shades of difference which existed between them, but 
 which, of course, I had not the presumption to notice. I felt 
 convinced that both were my friends, and was desirous, if pos- 
 sible, to run counter to neither. 
 
 I never had disputed the political right of the catholics 
 theoretically ', but I had been bred up among Williamites, and 
 had imbibed, without very well understanding their bearing, 
 strong protestant principles, and hence I deemed it wisest 
 neither to speak nor vote upon the subject at that period. 
 
 The Irish catholics had conceived a wonderfully high opinion 
 of Mr. Edmund Burke's assistance and abilities. Because he 
 was a clever man himself, they conceived his son must needs 
 be so too, and a deputation was sent over to induce young Mr. 
 Burke to come to Ireland, for the purpose of superintending 
 the progress of their bills of emancipation in the Irish parlia- 
 ment, and to bear his expenses, a sum of c£2000 was voted. Mr. 
 Keogh, of Dublin, a very sensible man, who had retired from 
 trade, was extremely active upon this occasion. 
 
 The bills were introduced and resisted. A petition had been 
 prepared by Burke, and being considered neither well-timed 
 nor well-worded, certain even of the warmest catholic sup- 
 porters declined to present it. 
 
 Young Burke, either totally ignorant of parliamentary rules, 
 or supposing that in a disturbed country like Ireland they 
 would be dispensed with — especially in favor of a son of the 
 great Burke — determined he would present the petition him- 
 self ; not at the bar, but in the body of the house ! Accord- 
 ingly, he descended from the gallery, walked into the house 
 with a long roll of parchment under his arm, and had arrived 
 near the treasury -bench, when a general cry of " Privilege ! — 
 A stranger in the house !" arose from all quarters, and checked 
 the progress of the intruder ; but when the speaker, in his loud 
 and dignified tone, called out, " Sergeant-at-arms, do your 
 duty !" it seemed to echo like thunder in Burke's ears; he felt 
 the awkwardness of his situation, and ran toward the bar. 
 Here he was met by the sergeant-at-arms with a drawn sword ; 
 
210 LORD NORBTJRY. 
 
 retracing his steps, lie was stopped by the clerk ; and the ser- 
 geant gaining on him, with a feeling of trepidation he com- 
 menced actual flight. The door-keepers at the corridor now 
 joined in pursuit ; but at length, after an excellent chase (the 
 members all keeping their seats), he forced through the enemy 
 behind the speaker's chair, and escaped ! no doubt, to his great 
 satisfaction. Strong measures were immediately proposed : 
 messengers despatched in all quarters to arrest him : very few 
 knew who he was ; when Lord Norbury, with that vivacious 
 promptness which he always possessed, on its being observed 
 that no such transaction had ever occurred before, exclaimed — 
 " I found the very same incident some few days back in the 
 cross-readings of the columns of a newspaper. 'Yesterday a 
 petition was presented to the house of commons — it fortunately 
 missed fire, and the villain ran off.' " 
 
 It was impossible to withstand this sally, which put the house 
 in a moment into good humor. Burke returned to England 
 unsuccessful, and the matter dropped. 
 
 It being observed by some member, that the sergeant-at-arms 
 should have stopped the man at the back-door, Sir Boyle Roche 
 very justly asked the honorable gentleman — "How could the 
 sergeant-at-arms stop him in the rear, while he was catching 
 him in the front ? did he think the sergeant-at-arms could be, 
 like a bird, in two places at once V 1 
 
 I read, some time back, in the English newspapers, an anec- 
 dote of Lord Norbury's having appeared on the bench in a 
 masquerade dress. As I was myself present at that occurrence, 
 it is only just to his lordship to state the facts, whence it will 
 appear that it was totally a mistake ; so much so, indeed, that 
 his lordship did not seem to be conscious of his habiliments, 
 even while every person in court was staring with astonishment. 
 
 Some time previously. Lady Castlereagh had given a very 
 splendid masquerade, at which I saw the chief justice in the 
 dress and character of Hawthorn, in " Love in a Village," and 
 well did he enact that part. The dress was a green tabinet 
 with mother-of-pearl buttons, striped yellow-and-black waist- 
 coat, and buff breeches, and was altogether cool and light. 
 
 On going the next circuit, the weather being excessively 
 
ON THE BENCH IN MASQUERADE-DRESS. 211 
 
 sultry, and his lordship having a great press of sentences to 
 pass on rebels, &c, at Carlow, he put on, under his robes, the 
 lightest vestments in his lordship's wardrobe. Now, be it re- 
 membered, that the use of the said masquerade-dress was a 
 dead secret except to the robes that covered it, and neither the 
 passing nor future generations would ever have heard a word 
 of the green jacket, if the said robes had kept themselves close, 
 as the chief justice had carefully provided before the sounding 
 of the trumpet.' 
 
 The warmth of the day, however, and the variety of appro- 
 priate addresses necessary to be framed, for so many convicted 
 criminals, might be expected to take away a certain quantity 
 of any man's precaution ; and, as a chief justice is hut a man, 
 Lord Norbury fell into the snare ! and feeling the heat insuffer- 
 able (which the twisting his wig sidewise did not relieve), he 
 involuntarily first turned up the sleeves of his robe, then 
 loosened the zone round his waist : the robe being now free 
 from all restraint, thought it had a right to steal away from the 
 green jacket; and thus the unconscious chief justice "stood 
 confessed" to the auditory in the courthouse as the representa- 
 tive of a very different character from that of a judge ! But 
 it was an accident that might, without culpability, have hap- 
 pened even to an archbishop ! I once saw a bishop, myself, 
 play the fiddle at one of the public concerts of the first Lady 
 Westmoreland, in Dublin castle. 
 
 It is only justice to Lord Norbury to add, that I have re- 
 peatedly seen him do things involuntarily, which it would have 
 been totally impossible for him to have done, if conscious at 
 the time, of his own actions. Though acute in general, he 
 occasionally thought of so many things at once, that he lost all 
 recollection whether of place or circumstance. 
 
212 HENRY GRATTAN. 
 
 HENRY GRATTAN. 
 
 Mr. G rattan in his .Sedan-chair — The Point of Honor — Mr. Egan's gift of Second-sight— The 
 Guillotine and Executioner — Coionel Burr, Vice-President of the United States, and Mr. 
 Randolph — Mr. Grattan in Masquerade — Death of that Illustrious Patriot, and Strictures 
 on his Interment in Westminster Abbey — Letter from the Author to his Son, Henry 
 Grattan, Esq. 
 
 Many anecdotes occur to me of my late respected friend, Mr. 
 Grattan. There are but few, however, which can throw fresh 
 light upon a character so long and so generally known, and 
 which exhibited unvarying excellence. 
 
 I never met any man who possessed the general elements of 
 courage in a higher degree than Mr. Grattan — in whom dwelt 
 a spirit of mild yet impetuous bravery, which totally banished 
 all apprehensions of danger. 
 
 I have already given some account of my contest for Dublin 
 city, and of the circumstances connecting my illustrious friend 
 therewith. On the evening of the first day of polling, while 
 I sat at dinner, a servant announced that a gentleman in a 
 sedan-chair was at the door and wished to speak to me. I im- 
 mediately went out, and finding it was Grattan, begged him to 
 enter the house, upon which he desired his chair to be taken 
 into the hall. His manner was so agitated and mysterious, 
 that I felt quite alarmed, and feared something untoward had 
 happened to him. We Avent into a parlor, where, without any 
 introductory observation, he exclaimed — " Barrington, I must 
 have a shot at that rascal !" 
 
 "Heavens !" said I, " what rascal?" 
 
 " There is but one such in the world !" cried he, " that Giffard !" 
 
 " My dear Grattan," I replied, " you can not be serious ; 
 there is no ground for a challenge on your part ; your lan- 
 guage to him was such as never before was used to human 
 creature ; and if he survives your tcords, no bullet would have 
 effect on him." 
 
 "Ah, that won't do, Barrington!" exclaimed Gratton ; "he 
 objected to my voting for you, because, he said, I was a ' dis- 
 carded corporator.' " 
 
THE TOINT OF HON OK. 213 
 
 " That was not intended as personal" said I ; " and even 
 had he gained his point, would it not be an honor for you to be 
 removed from such a corporation 1" 
 
 " Barrington," rejoined he, " it's of no use ! I must have a 
 shot at the fellow ; I can't sleep unless you go to him for me." 
 This I peremptorily refused ; arguing and reasoning with him 
 again and again ; he still continuing obstinate, I begged him 
 to go and ask the advice of Mr. George Ponsonby. 
 
 " Oh, no," replied he, " Ponsonby is a wise man ; wiser than 
 either of us : in fact, he is sometimes too wise and too peace- 
 able. You must go to Giffard : perhaps it may not be wise, but 
 I know you prefer your friend's honor to your friend's safety. 
 Come, now, get your hat, Barrington!" 
 
 Upward of an hour elapsed before I could even half con- 
 vince him that he was wrong ; but at length, by the only argu- 
 ment that could make any impression on him, I extracted a 
 promise that he would let the affair drop : " Grattan," said I, 
 " recollect matters, and have consideration for me." He start- 
 ed : " Yes," continued I, " you know it was solely on my 
 account that you exposed yourself to any insult : and do you 
 think I could remain an idle spectator in a conflict whereof I 
 was the cause ? If you do not promise me that you will go 
 ' no farther in this business,' I shall instantly make the thing 
 personal with Giffard myself." 
 
 For a moment he was silent, then smiling — " Coriolanus," 
 said he, "replied to his noble parent — 'Mother! you have 
 conquered !' — I will go no farther." 
 
 " I humbly thank you," said I, " for making an old woman 
 of me." He then went away, as I conceived, satisfied. He 
 had come thus privately (for the curtains were drawn round his 
 chair) to avoid suspicion being excited of his intentions, and 
 the authorities consequently interfering to prevent the combat. 
 My surprise maybe imagined, when at six o'clock the next 
 morning, I was roused by the same announcement of a gentle- 
 man in a chair. I knew it must be Grattan, and directed him 
 to be brought in. 
 
 I had now the same game to play over again. He said he 
 had not slept a wink all night, from thinking about "that 
 
214 HENRY GRATTAN. 
 
 rascal ;" and that he " must have a shot at him." Another 
 course now suggested itself to me, and I told him I had, on 
 consideration, determined, whether right or wrong, that if he 
 persevered, I would wait upon the sheriff and get him bound 
 over to keep the peace. He was not pleased at this, but had 
 no option, and ultimately we both agreed not to revive the 
 subject during the election. 
 
 Mr. Egan, one of the roughest-looking persons possible, being 
 at one time a supporter of government, made virulent philippics, 
 in the Irish house of commons, against the French revolution. 
 His figure was coarse and bloated, and his dress not over 
 elegant withal ; in fact, he had by no means the look of a 
 member of parliament. 
 
 One evening this man fell foul of a speech of Grattan's, and 
 among other absurdities, said in his paroxysm, that the right 
 honorable gentleman's speech had a tendency to introduce the 
 guillotine into the very body of the house : indeed, he almost 
 thought he could already perceive it before him. (" Hear him ! 
 Hear him!" echoed from Sir Boyle Roche.) Grattan good- 
 humoredly replied, that the honorable gentleman must have a 
 vastly sharper sight than he had. He certainly could see no 
 such thing ; " but though," added Grattan, looking with his 
 glass toward Egan, " I may not see the guillotine, yet methinks 
 I can perceive the executioner." 
 
 "Order! Order!" shouted Sir Boyle Roche, but a general 
 laugh prevented any farther observation. 
 
 Colonel Burr, avIio had been vice-president of America, and 
 probably would have been the next president, but for his un- 
 fortunate duel with General Hamilton, came over to England, 
 and was made known to me by Mr. Randolph, of South Caro* 
 lina, with whom I was very intimate. He requested I would 
 introduce him to Mr. Grattan, whom he was excessively anxious 
 to see. Colonel Burr was not a man of a very prepossessing 
 appearance ; rough-featured and neither dressy nor polished ; 
 but a well-informed, sensible man, and though not a particularly 
 agreeable, yet an instructive companion. 
 
 People in general form extravagant anticipations regarding 
 eminent persons. The idea of a great orator and an Irish 
 
 T 
 
VISITED BY AARON BURR. 215 
 
 chief carried with it, naturally enough, corresponding notions 
 of physical elegance, vigor and dignity. Such was Colonel 
 Burr's mistake, I believe, about Mr. Grattan, and I took care 
 not to undeceive him. 
 
 We went to my friend's house, who was to leave London 
 next day. I announced that Colonel Burr, from America, Mr. 
 Kandolph, and myself, wished to pay our respects, and the 
 servant informed us that his master would receive us in a short 
 time, but was at the moment much occupied on business of con- 
 sequence. Burr's expectations were all on the alert ! Ran- 
 dolph also was anxious to be presented to the great Grattan, 
 and both impatient for the entrance of this Demosthenes. At 
 length the door opened, and in hopped a small bent figure, 
 meager, yellow, and ordinary; one slipper and one shoe; his 
 breeches' knees loose ; his cravat hanging down ; his shirt 
 and coat-sleeves tucked up high, and an old hat upon his 
 head. 
 
 This apparition saluted the strangers very courteously, 
 asked, without any introduction, how long they had been in 
 England, and immediately proceeded to make inquiries about 
 the late General Washington and the revolutionary war. My 
 companions looked at each other : their replies were costive, 
 and they seemed quite impatient to see Mr. Grattan. I could 
 scarcely contain myself, but determined to let my eccentric 
 countryman take his course, who appeared quite delighted to 
 see his visiters, and was the most inquisitive person in the 
 world. Randolph was far the tallest and most dignified look- 
 ing man of the two, gray-haired and well-dressed ; Grattan 
 therefore, of course, took him for the vice-president, and ad- 
 dressed him accordingly. Randolph at length begged tofenow 
 if they could shortly have the honor of seeing Mr. Grattan. 
 Upon which our host, not doubting but they knew him, con- 
 ceived it must be his son James for whom they inquired, and 
 said he believed he had that moment wandered out somewhere 
 to amuse himself. 
 
 This completely disconcerted the Americans, and they were 
 about to make their bow and their exit, when I thought it high 
 time to explain; and, taking Colonel Burr and Mr. Randolph 
 
216 HENRY GBA1TAN. 
 
 respectively by the hand, introduced them to the Right Hon- 
 orable Henry Grattan. 
 
 I never saw people stare so, or so much embarrassed ! Grat- 
 tan himself, now perceiving the cause, heartily joined in my 
 merriment. He pulled down his shirt-sleeves, pulled up his 
 stockings, and in his own irresistible way apologized for the 
 outre figure he cut, assuring them that he had totally overlooked 
 it in his anxiety not to keep them waiting ; that he was re- 
 turning to Ireland next morning, and had been busily packing 
 up his books and papers in a closet full of dust and cobwebs ! 
 This incident rendered the interview more interesting. The 
 Americans were charmed with their reception, and, after a 
 protracted visit, retired highly gratified, while Grattan re- 
 turned again to his books and cobwebs. 
 
 Nobody lamented more than myself the loss of this distin- 
 guished man and true patriot, who, every one knows, breathed 
 his last in the British metropolis after a long and painful ill- 
 ness ; and the public papers soon after announced, to my aston- 
 ishment and chagrin, the fact of preparations being on foot for 
 his interment in Westminster abbey ! I say to my astonish- 
 ment and chagrin ; because it was sufficiently plain that this 
 affected mark of respect was only meant to. restrain the honest 
 enthusiasm which might have attended his funeral obsequies 
 in his own country. 
 
 The subtle minister then ruling the councils of Britain knew 
 full well that vanity is the falsest guide of human judgment, 
 and therefore held out that Westminster abbey (the indiscrim- 
 inate dormitory of generals and spies — of ministers, and admi- 
 rals, and poets) was the most honorable resting-place for the 
 remains of an Irish patriot, and an humble gravestone most 
 congenial to Grattan's unassuming nature. This lure was suc- 
 cessful ; and, accordingly, he who had made British ministers 
 tremble in the cabinet — whose forbearance they had propi- 
 tiated by a tender of the king's best palace in Ireland — whose 
 fame they had nevertheless endeavored to destroy, and whose 
 principles they had calumniated — was escorted to the grave 
 by the most decided of his enemies, and (as if in mockery of 
 his country and himself) inhumed among the inveterate foes 
 
HIS INTERMENT IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 217 
 
 of Ireland and of Grattan ! It is mean to say that Lord Cas- 
 tlereagh had latterly changed his opinion, and become civil to 
 his illustrious opponent : so much the worse ! he thereby con- 
 fessed that, in 1797 and the two following years, he had la- 
 bored to destroy an innocent man and to disgrace an Irish pa- 
 triot, who, during a great portion of that period, lay on the 
 bed of sickness. 
 
 The duke of Leinster, doubtless with the best possible mo- 
 tives, but with a view of the subject differing from my own, 
 suggested that Ireland should do honor to her patriot son by 
 erecting a cenotaph to his memory. This, I must confess, 
 appears to me (I speak of it merely as matter of opinion) to 
 be nothing more than cold-blooded mockery — a compliment 
 diminutive and empty. Toward such a monument I would 
 not subscribe one farthing; but if the revered ashes of my 
 friend could be restored to his country, and enshrined beneath 
 the sky of green Erin, there is no Irishman who (in propor- 
 tion to his means) should go beyond myself in contributing 
 to uplift a monumental column which should outvie the pil- 
 lars dedicated in Dublin to the glorious butcheries of Traf- 
 algar and Waterloo : while these are proudly commemorated, 
 no national pile records the more truly glorious triumphs of 
 1782 — nor the formation of that irresistible army of volunteers 
 which (in a right cause) defied all the power of England ! But 
 my voice shall not be silent : and deeply do I regret the un- 
 toward fate by which this just tribute to national and individ- 
 ual virtues has devolved upon the feeble powers of an almost 
 superannuated writer. 
 
 ■ Ireland gave me birth and bread ; and though I am disgust- 
 ed with its present state, I love the country still. I have en- 
 deavored to give (in a more important work) some sketches of 
 its modern history at the most prosperous epochas, together 
 with many gloomy anecdotes of its fall, and annihilation as an 
 independent kingdom ; and if God grants me a little longer 
 space, I shall leave my honest ideas of its existing condition 
 and of the ruin to which the British empire will not long re- 
 main blind, if she continue to pursue the same system in that 
 misgoverned country. 
 
 10 
 
218 HENRY GRATTAN. 
 
 Extract of a letter from Sir Jonah Barrington to the present 
 Henry Grattan, Esq.. M. P. : — 
 
 " My Dear Grattan : I regret your not receiving my let- 
 ter, written immediately after the lamented departure of my 
 honored friend. In that letter I proposed forthwith to publish 
 the sequel of my character of Mr. Grattan, accompanied with 
 his portrait and some additional observations. I had composed 
 the sequel, much to my own satisfaction, as the continuation 
 of his character promised in the number of my historical work 
 where I say, ' His career is not yet finished.' 
 
 " Having received no reply to that letter, I threw the manu- 
 script into the fire, keeping no copy. It was scarcely consumed, 
 however, before I repented of having done so. 
 
 " And now permit an old and sensitive friend to expostulate 
 a little with you, in the simple garb of queries : — 
 
 "Why, and for what good reason — with what policy, or on 
 what feeling — are the bones of the most illustrious of Irish- 
 men suffered to moulder in the same ground with his country's 
 enemies 1 
 
 " Why suffer him to be escorted to the grave by the mock 
 pageantry of those whose vices and corruptions ravished from 
 Ireland everything which his talents and integrity had ob- 
 tained for her ? 
 
 " Why send his countrymen on a foreign pilgrimage, to wor- 
 ship the shrine of their canonized benefactor ? Were not the 
 cathedrals of Ireland worthy to be honored by his urn — or 
 the youths of Erin to be animated by knowing that they 
 possessed his ashes 1 Can it be gratifying to the feelings of 
 his countrymen to pay the sexton of a British abbey a merce- 
 nary shilling for permission even to see the gravestone of your 
 parent 1* 
 
 "You were deceived by the blandishments of our mortal 
 enemy : he knew that political idolatry has great power, and 
 excites great influence in nations. The shrine of a patriot has 
 often proved to be the standard of liberty : and it was there- 
 
 * I was myself once refused even admittance into Westminster abbey, 
 wherein his ashes rest! — the sexton affirming that the proper hour was past! 
 
LORD ALDBOROTTGh's CHANCERY SUIT. 219 
 
 fore good policy in a British statesman to suppress our excite- 
 ments. The bust of Rousseau is immortalized on the conti- 
 nent : the tradition of Grattan only will remain to his com- 
 patriots. 
 
 "He lived the life — he died the death — but he does not 
 sleep in the tomb of an Irish patriot ! England has taken 
 away our constitution, and even the relics of its founder are 
 retained through the duplicity of his enemy. 
 
 " You have now my sentiments on the matter, and by frankly 
 expressing them I have done my duty to you, to myself and my 
 country. Your ever affectionate and sincere friend, 
 
 " Jonah Barrington." 
 
 HIGH LIFE IN NEWGATE. 
 
 Lord Aldborough quizzes the Lord-Chancellor — Voted a Libeller by the House of Peers — 
 His spirited Conduct — Sentenced to Imprisonment in Newgate by the Court of King's 
 Bench — Memoirs of Mr. Knaresborough — His Extraordinary Trial — Sentenced to Death, 
 but transported — Escapes from Botany Bay, returns to England, and is committed to 
 Newgate, where he seduces Lady Aldborough's Attendant — Prizes in the Lottery — Miss 
 Barton dies in Miseiy. 
 
 Lord Aldborough was an arrogant and ostentatious man ; 
 but these failings were nearly redeemed by his firmness and 
 gallantry in his memorable collision with Lord-Chancellor 
 Clare. 
 
 Lord Aldborough, who had built a most tasteful and hand- 
 some house immediately at the northern extremity of Dublin, 
 had an equity suit with Mr. Beresford, a nephew of Lord Clare, 
 as to certain lots of ground close to his lordship's new mansion, 
 which, among other conveniences, had a chapel on one wing 
 and a theatre on the other, stretching away from the centre in 
 a chaste style of ornamental architecture. 
 
 The cause was in chancery, and was not protracted very 
 long. Lord Aldborough was defeated, with full costs : his 
 pride, his purse, and his mansion, must all suffer, and meddling 
 with either of these was sufficient to rouse his lordship's spleen. 
 He appealed, therefore, to the house of peers, where in due 
 
220 HIGH LIFE IN NEWGATE. 
 
 season the cause came on for hearing, and where the chancel- 
 lor himself presided. The lay lords did not much care to in- 
 terfere in the matter ; and, without loss of time, Lord Clare of 
 the house of peers confirmed the decree of Lord Clare of the 
 court of chancery, with full costs against the appellant. 
 
 Lord Aldborough had now no redress but to write at the 
 lord-chancellor ; and without delay he fell to composing a book 
 against Lord Clare and the system of appellant jurisdiction — 
 stating that it was totally an abuse of justice to be obliged to 
 appeal to a prejudiced man against his own prejudices, and 
 particularly so in the present instance, Lord Clare being noto- 
 rious as an unforgiving chancellor to those who vexed him, 
 and no lords attending to hear the cause, or if they did, not 
 being much wiser for the hearing — it being the province of a 
 counsel to puzzle not to inform noblemen. 
 
 Lord Aldborough, in his book, humorously enough stated an 
 occurrence that had happened to himself when travelling in 
 Holland: — 
 
 His lordship was going to Amsterdam on one of the canals, 
 in a trekschuit — the skipper of which, being a great rogue, ex- 
 torted from his lordship, for his passage, much more than he 
 had a lawful right to claim. My lord expostulated with the 
 skipper in vain ; the fellow grew rude ; his lordship persisted ; 
 the skipper got more abusive. At length Lord Aldborough 
 told him he would, on landing, immediately go to the proper 
 tribunals and get redress from the judge. The skipper cursed 
 him as an impudent milord, and desired him to do his worst, 
 snapping his tarry finger-posts in his lordship's face. Lord 
 Aldborough paid the demand, and, on landing, went to the 
 legal officer to know when the court of justice would sit. He 
 was answered, " At nine next morning." Having no doubt of 
 ample redress, he did not choose to put the skipper on his 
 guard by mentioning his intentions. Next morning he went 
 to court and began to tell his story to the judge, who sat with 
 his broad-brimmed hat on, in great state, to hear causes of that 
 nature. His lordship fancied he had seen the man before, nor 
 was he long in doubt; for, ere he had half finished, the judge, 
 in a voice like thunder (but which his lordship immediately 
 
QUIZZING THE LORD-CHANCELLOR. 221 
 
 recognised, for it was that of the identical skipper), decided 
 against him, with full costs, and ordered him out of court ! His 
 lordship, however, said he would appeal, and away he went to 
 an advocate for that purpose. He did accordingly appeal, and 
 the next day his appeal cause came regularly on. But all his 
 lordship's stoicism forsook him when he again found that the 
 very same skipper and judge was to decide the appeal who had 
 decided the cause ; so that the learned skipper first cheated and 
 then laughed at him ! 
 
 The noble writer having, in his book, made a very improper 
 and derogatory application of his Dutch precedent to Lord- 
 Chancellor Clare and the Irish appellant jurisdiction, was 
 justly considered by his brother-peers as having committed a 
 gross breach of their privileges, and was thereupon ordered to 
 attend in his place and defend himself (if any defence he had) 
 from the charge made against him by the lord-chancellor and 
 the peers of Ireland. Of course, the house of lords was thronged 
 to excess to hear his lordship's vindication. I went an hour 
 before it met, to secure a place behind the throne, where the 
 commoners were allowed to crowd up as well as they could. 
 
 The chancellor, holding the vicious book in his hand, asked 
 Lord Aldborough if he admitted that it was of his writing and 
 publication ; to which his lordship replied that he could admit 
 nothing as written or published by him, till every word of it 
 should be first truly read to their lordships aloud in the house. 
 Lord Clare, wishing to curtail some parts, began to read it 
 himself, but not being quite near enough to the light, his oppo- 
 nent took a pair of enormous candlesticks from the table, walked 
 deliberately up 1o the throne, and requested the chancellor's 
 permission to hold the candles for him while he was reading 
 the book ! This novel sort of effrontery put the chancellor 
 completely off his guard : he was outdone, and permitted Lord 
 Aldborough to hold the lights while he perused the libel com- 
 paring him to a Dutch skipper ; nor did the obsequious author 
 omit to set him right here and there when he omitted a word 
 or proper emphasis. It was ludicrous beyond example, and 
 gratifying to the secret ill-wishers of Lord Clare, who bore no 
 small proportion to the aggregate numbers of the house. The 
 
222 HIGH LIFE IN NEWGATE. 
 
 libel being duly read through, Lord Aldborough at once spirit- 
 edly and adroitly said that he avowed every word of it to their 
 lordships ; but that it was not intended as any libel against 
 either the house or the jurisdiction, but as a constitutional and 
 just rebuke to their lordships for not performing their bounden 
 duty in attending the hearing of the appeal ; he being quite 
 certain that if any sensible men had been present, the lord- 
 chancellor would only have had two lords and two bishops (his 
 own creatures) on his side of the question. 
 
 This was considered as an aggravation of the contempt, 
 though some thought it was not very far from the matter of 
 fact. The result was, that after a bold speech, delivered with 
 great earnestness, his lordship was voted guilty of a high 
 breach of privilege, and a libel on the lord-chancellor, as 
 chairman of the house. He was afterward ordered to Newgate 
 for six months by the court of king's bench (on an information 
 filed against him by the attorney-general), which sentence, his 
 lordship told them, he considered, under the circumstances, as 
 a high compliment and honor. In fact, he never was so pleased 
 as when speaking of the incident, and declaring that he ex- 
 pected to have his book recorded on the journals of the lords ; 
 the chancellor himself (by applying his anecdote of the Dutch 
 skipper) having construed it into a regular episode on their 
 proceedings. 
 
 Lord Aldborough underwent his full sentence in Newgate ; 
 and his residence there gave rise to a fresh incident in the 
 memoirs of a very remarkable person, who, at that time, was an 
 inmate of the same walls (originally likewise through the 
 favor of Chancellor Clare), and lodged on the same staircase ; 
 and, as I had been professionally interested in this man's 
 affairs, I subjoin the following statement as curious, and in 
 every circumstance, to my personal knowledge, matter of fact. 
 
 James Fitzpatrick Knaresborough was a young man of tol- 
 erable private fortune in the county of Kilkenny. Unlike the 
 common run of young men at that day, he was sober, money- 
 making, and even avaricious, though moderately hospitable ; 
 his principal virtue consisted in making no exhibition of his 
 vices. He was of good figure ; and, without having the pres- 
 
TRIAL OF KNAEESBOKOUGII. 223 
 
 ence of a gentleman, was what is called rather a handsome 
 young fellow. 
 
 Mr. Knaresborough had been accused of a capital crime by 
 a Miss Barton (natural daughter of William Barton, Esq., a 
 magistrate of the county of Kilkenny), who stated that she 
 had gone away with him for the purpose, and in the strict 
 confidence, of being married the same day at Leighlin Bridge. 
 Her father was a gentleman of consideration in the county, 
 and a warrant was granted against Knaresborough for the 
 felony ; but he contrived to get liberated on bail. The grand 
 jury, however, on the young woman's testimony, found true 
 bills against him for the capital offence, and he came to Carlow 
 to take his trial at the assizes. He immediately called on me 
 with a brief — said it was a mere bagatelle and totally un- 
 founded — and that his acquittal would be a matter of course. 
 I had been retained against him, but introduced him to the 
 present Judge Moore, to whom he handed his brief. He made 
 so light of the business, that he told me to get up a famous 
 speech against him, as no doubt I was instructed to do ; that 
 indeed I could not say too much, as the whole would appear, 
 on her oxen confession, to be a conspiracy ! nay, so confident 
 was he of procuring his acquittal, that he asked Mr. Moore 
 and myself to dine with him on our road to Kilkenny, which 
 we promised. 
 
 On reading my brief, I found that, truly, the case was not 
 overstrong against him even there, where, in all probability, 
 circumstances would be exaggerated ; and that it rested almost 
 exclusively on the lady's own evidence : hence, I had little 
 doubt that, upon cross-examination, the prisoner would be 
 icquitted. 
 
 The trial proceeded : I was then rather young at the bar. 
 md determined, for my own sake, to make an interesting and 
 affecting speech for my client ; and having no doubt of Knares- 
 borough's acquittal, I certainly overcharged my statement, 
 and added some facts solely from invention. My surprise, 
 then, may be estimated, when I heard Miss Barton swear posi- 
 tively to every syllable of my emblazonment. I should now 
 have found myself most painfully circumstanced, but that I 
 
224 HIGH LIFE IN NEWGATE. 
 
 had no doubt she must he altogether discredited. In fact, she 
 was quite shaken by the cross-examination of the prisoner's 
 counsel. He smiled at her and at us ; and said, " The woman's 
 credit was so clearly overthrown, that there could be no doubt 
 of his client's innocence of the charge of violence ; and he 
 would not trouble the court or jury by any protracted defence 
 on so clear a subject." 
 "^ I considered all was over, and left the court as the jury 
 retired. In about an hour, however, I received an account 
 that Knaresborough had been found guilty, and sent back to 
 jail under sentence of death ! I was thunderstruck, and with- 
 out delay wrote to the chief secretary in Dublin, begging him 
 instantly to represent to the lord-lieutenant the real facts : 
 execution was in consequence respited. So soon as I could 
 return to town, I waited on Major Hobart and the lord-lieuten- 
 ant, stated precisely the particulars I have here given, and 
 my satisfaction (even from my own brief) that the girl was 
 perjured. They referred me to Lord-Chancellor Clare, whose 
 answer I wrote down and never shall forget : " That may be 
 all very true, Barrington ; but he is a rascal, and if he does 
 not deserve to be hanged for this, he does for a former affair, 
 right well !" I told him it was quite necessary for me to pub- 
 lish the whole concern, in my own justification. He then took 
 from his bureau a small parcel of papers, and requested me to 
 read them : they proved to be copies of affidavits and evidence 
 on a former accusation, from which Knaresborough had escaped 
 by lenity, for snapping a pistol at the father of a girl he had 
 seduced. 
 
 Lord Clare, however, recommended his sentence to be 
 changed to perpetual transportation : but this was to the con- 
 vict worse than death, and he enclosed to me a petition which 
 he had sent to government, declining the proposed commuta- 
 tion, and insisting on being forthwith executed, pursuant to his 
 first sentence. Notwithstanding, he was, in fine, actually 
 transported. He had contrived to secure, in different ways, 
 c£10,000, and took a large sum with him to Botany Bay. I 
 had heard no more of him for several years, when I was aston- 
 ished one day by being accosted in the streets of Dublin by 
 
ADVENTURES OF KNABESBOEOUGII. 225 
 
 this identical man, altered only by time and in the color of his 
 hair, which had turned quite gray. He was well-dressed, had 
 a large cockade in his hat, and did not at all court secresy. 
 He told me that government had allowed him to come away 
 privately ; that he had gone through many entertaining and 
 some dismal adventures in Africa, and in America — whence 
 he last came ; and he added, that as government were then busy 
 raising troops, he had sent in a memorial, proposing to raise 
 a regiment for a distant service, solely at his own expense. 
 " I have," said he, " saved sufficient money for this purpose, 
 though my brother has, by breach of trust, got possession of a 
 great part of my fortune" (which was true). In fact he pes- 
 tered the government, who were surprised at his temerity, yet 
 unwilling to meddle with him, until at length they had him 
 arrested, and required to show his authority from the governor 
 of New South Wales for returning from transportation — which 
 being unable to do, he was committed to Newgate, to await the 
 governor's reply. 
 
 Here his firmness and eccentricity never forsook him ; he 
 sent in repeated petitions to the ministry, requesting to be 
 hanged, and told me he would give any gentleman c£500 who 
 had sufficient interest to get him put to death without delay. 
 An unsatisfactory answer arrived from New South Wales : but 
 the government could not, under the circumstances, execute 
 him for his return — and liberate him Lord Clare would not : 
 his confinement, therefore, was of course indefinitely continued. 
 During its course, he purchased a lottery ticket, which turned 
 out a prize of c£2,000 ; and soon after a second brought him 
 c£500. He lived well, but having no society, was determined 
 to provide himself a companion at all events. 
 
 At this juncture the earl of Aldborough became his next 
 
 door neighbor. My Lady A , the best wife in the world, 
 
 did not desert her husband ; and, as all women of rank enter- 
 tain what they call a " young person " to attend on them ; that 
 is, speaking generally, a girl handsomer than the mistress, 
 neater in her dress, as good in her address — and, in some 
 instances, even better in her character : Lady Aldborough 
 brought such a one with her to the prison as her dresser and 
 
 10* 
 
226 HIGH LIFE IN NEWGATE. 
 
 tea-maker. But this " young person," considering, as Swift 
 says, that " service is no inheritance," and that she had no 
 money of her own — and hearing that Fitzpatrick Knares- 
 borough possessed great plenty of that necessary article, some 
 way or other the metallic tractors brought them acquainted. 
 To run away with him, sliG had only to trip across a lobby and 
 staircase ; so she actually broke the sabbath by taking that jour- 
 ney on Sunday morning, and left my lord and my lady to finish 
 their prayers, and wonder at the attractions of Newgate, which 
 could set wandering the virtue of their " young person," whom 
 all the temptations, luxuries, and lovers of London and Dublin 
 had never been able to lead astray from the path of rectitude. 
 My lady was surprised how Anna could possibly connect her- 
 self with a convict for such a shocking crime ; but his lordship, 
 who knew the world better, said that was the very reason why 
 Anna admired him. However, the whole business in all its 
 ramifications terminated pretty fortunately. My lord had his 
 full revenge on Lord Clare, and got great credit for his firm- 
 ness and gallantry ; Knaresborough was at length turned out 
 of Newgate when the government were tired of keeping him 
 in ; while the " young person" produced sundry young people 
 of her own in prison, and was amply provided for. The only 
 set-off to this comedy of " All's Well that Ends Well" was the 
 melancholy fate of poor Miss Barton, who married, was soon 
 deserted by her husband, and died in misery ! 
 
CHARACTER OF CURRAN. 227 
 
 JOHN PHILPOT CURRAN. 
 
 Sketches of His Character — Personal Description — Lodgings at Carlow — Mr. Curran and 
 Mr. Godwin — Scenes in the Cannon Coffee-house — Liberality of Mine Host — Miss 
 H. in Heroics — Preeipiratf> Retreat— Lord Clancarty — Mr. Curran's Notion of his own 
 Prowess — The Disqualifications of a Wig — Lord and Lady Carleton — Curran in 1812 — 
 An Attorney turned Cobbler — Curran's Audience of the present King of France — Strictures 
 on his Biographers. 
 
 There have been few public men whose characters have 
 afforded a more ample field for comment than that of Mr. Cur- 
 ran, and there are very few who have been more miserably- 
 handled by their biographers. Young men, who fancied they 
 knew him because they were latterly in his society, in fact 
 knew him not at all. None but the intimates of his earlier 
 and brighter days, and, even among such, those only who had 
 mixed Avith him in general as well as professional society, 
 could possibly estimate the inconsistent qualities of that cele- 
 brated orator. There was such a mingling of greatness and 
 littleness, of sublimity and meanness, in his thoughts and lan- 
 guage, that cursory observers (confused amidst his versatility 
 and brilliance) quitted Curran's society without understanding 
 anything relating to him, beyond his buoyant spirits and play- 
 ful wit. But toward the close of his day, this splendor dissi- 
 pated, and dark and gloomy tints appeared too conspicuously, 
 poor fellow ! for his posthumous reputation. He felt his de- 
 cline pressing quick upon him, and gradually sank into listless 
 apathy. 
 
 Even so early as 1798, his talents and popularity seemed to 
 me to have commenced a slow but obvious declension. By 
 seceding from parliament in the preceding year, he had evacu- 
 ated the field of battle, and that commanding eminence 
 whence he had so proudly repulsed all his enemies. His 
 talents, it is true, for a while survived ; but his habits of life 
 became contracted, his energies were paralyzed, his mind 
 rambled, he began to prose, and, after his appointment to the 
 rolls, the world seemed to be closing fast upon him. 
 
 My intimacy with Curran was long and close. I knew every 
 
 A 
 
 / 
 
228 joux rniLPOT cukran. 
 
 turn of his mind, and every point of Lis capacity. He was 
 not fitted to pursue the niceties of detail ; but his imagination 
 was infinite, his fancy boundless, his wit indefatigable. There 
 was scarce any species of talent to which he did not possess 
 some pretension. He was gifted by nature with the faculties 
 of an advocate and a dramatist ; and the lesser but ingenious ac- 
 complishment of personification (without mimicry) was equally 
 familiar to him. In the circles of society, where he appeared 
 everybody's superior, nobody ever seemed jealous of the supe- 
 riority. 
 
 Curran's person was mean and decrepit : very slight, very 
 shapeless — with nothing of the gentleman about it; on the 
 contrary, displaying spindle limbs, a shambling gait, one hand 
 imperfect, and a face yellow, furrowed, rather flat, and 
 thoroughly ordinary. Yet his features were the very reverse 
 of disagreeable ; there was something so indescribably dra- 
 matic in his eye and the play of his eyebrow, that his visage 
 seemed the index of his mind, and his humor the slave of his 
 will. I never was so happy in the company of any man as in 
 Curran's for many years. His very foibles were amusing. 
 He had no vein for poetry ; yet fancying himself a bard, he 
 contrived to throw off pretty verses : he certainly was no 
 musician ; but conceiving himself to be one, played very pleas- 
 ingly ; Nature had denied him a voice ; but he thought he 
 could sing ; and in the rich mould of his capabilities, the desire 
 here also bred, in some degree, the capacity. 
 
 It is a curious, but a just remark, that every slow, crawling 
 reptile is in the highest degree disgusting; while an insect, 
 ten times uglier, if it be sprightly and seems bent upon enjoy- 
 ment, excites no shuddering. It is so with the human race : 
 had Curran. been a dull, slothful, inanimate being, his talents 
 would not have redeemed his personal defects. But his rapid 
 movements — his fire — his sparkling eye — the fine and varied 
 intonations of his voice — these conspired to give life and 
 energy to every company he mixed with ; and I have known 
 ladies who, after an hour's conversation, actually considered 
 Curran a beauty, and preferred his society lo that of the finest 
 fellows present. There is, however, it must be admitted, a 
 
HIS LODGINGS MR. GODWIN. 229 
 
 good deal in the circumstance of a man being celebrated, as re- 
 gards the patronage of women. 
 
 Curran had a perfect horror of fleas : nor was this very 
 extraordinary, since those vermin seemed to show him peculiar 
 hostility. If they infested a house, my friend said, that " they 
 always flocked to his bedchamber, when they heard he was to 
 sleep there !" I recollect his being dreadfully annoyed in this 
 way at Carlow ; and, on making his complaint in the morning 
 to the woman of the house, " By heavens ! madam," cried he, 
 " they were in such numbers, and seized upon my carcass with 
 so much ferocity, that if they had been unanimous, and all 
 pulled one way, they must have dragged me out of bed en- 
 tirely !" 
 
 I never saw Ourran's opinion of himself so much discon- 
 certed as by Mr. Godwin, whom he had brought, at the Carlow 
 assizes, to dine with Mr. Byrne, a friend of ours, in whose 
 cause he and I had been specially employed as counsel. Cur- 
 ran, undoubtedly, was not happy in his speech on this occasion 
 — but he thought he was. Nevertheless, we succeeded ; and 
 Curran, in great spirits, was very anxious to receive a public 
 compliment from Mr. Godwin, as an eminent literary man, 
 teasing him (half jokingly) for his opinion of his speech. 
 Godwin fought shy for a considerable time ; at length, Curran 
 put the question home to him, and it could no longer be 
 shifted. 
 
 " Since you will have my opinion," said Godwin, folding his 
 arms, and leaning back in his chair with much sang froid, "I 
 really never did hear anything so bad as your prose — except 
 your poetry, my dear Curran." 
 
 Curran and I were in the habit, for several years, of meeting, 
 by appointment, in London, during the long vacation, and 
 spending a month there together, in the enjoyment of the 
 public amusements — but we were neither extravagant nor 
 dissipated. We had both some propensities in common, and a 
 never-failing amusement was derived from drawing-out and 
 remarking upon eccentric characters. Curran played on such 
 people as he would on an instrument, and produced whatever 
 tone he thought proper from them. Thus, he always had a 
 
230 JOHN PHILPOT CURRAN. 
 
 I 
 
 good Jiddle in London, which he occasionally brought to our 
 dining-house for the general entertainment. 
 
 We were in the habit of frequenting the Cannon coffeehouse, 
 Charing Cross (kept by the uncle of Mr. Roberts, proprietor of 
 of the royal hotel, Calais), where we had a box every day at 
 the end of the room ; and as, when Curran was free from pro- 
 fessional cares, his universal language was that of wit, my 
 high spirits never failed to prompt my performance of Jackall 
 to the Lion. Two young gentlemen of the Irish bar were fre- 
 quently of our party in 1796, and contributed to keep up the 
 flow of wit, which, on Curran's part, was well-nigh miraculous. 
 Gradually the ear and attention of the company were caught. 
 Nobody knew us, and as if carelessly, the guests flocked round 
 our box to listen. We perceived them, and increased our 
 flights accordingly. Involuntarily, they joined in the laugh, 
 and the more so when they saw it gave no offence. Day after 
 day the number of our satellites increased — until the room, at 
 five o'clock, was thronged to hear "the Irishmen." One or 
 two days we went elsewhere ; and on returning to "the Can- 
 non," our host begged to speak, a word with me at the bar. 
 " Sir," said he, " I never had such a set of pleasant gentlemen 
 in my house, and I hope you have received no offence." I re- 
 plied, "Quite the contrary!" — " Why, sir," replied he, " as 
 you did not come the last few days, the company fell off. Now, 
 sir, I hope you and the other gentleman will excuse me if I re- 
 mark that you will find an excellent dish of fish, and a roast 
 turkey or joint, with any wine you please, hot on your table 
 every day at five o'clock, while you stay in town ; and, I must 
 beg to add, no charge, gentlemen." 
 
 I reported to Curran, and we agreed to see it out. The 
 landlord was as good as his word : the room was filled : we 
 coined stories to tell each other, the lookers-on laughed almost 
 to convulsions, and for some time w r e literally feasted. Having 
 had our humor out, I desired a bill, which the landlord posi- 
 tively refused : however, we computed for ourselves, and sent 
 him a £ 10 note enclosed in a letter, desiring him to give the 
 balance to his waiters. 
 
 I do not think I was ever so amused in my life, as at that 
 
MISS H. IN HEROICS — PRECIPITATE RETREAT. 231 
 
 curious occurrence. One Irish templar alone recognised us, 
 and we made him promise secrecy as to our names : I never 
 saw him after. 
 
 An anecdote of a very different nature terminated one of our 
 trips to London : I had long known that there existed what 
 Curran called " a refined friendship" between him and a Miss 
 H., at Spa and elsewhere. She was afterward a friend of 
 Holman, the player, and finally married Major * * * an asso- 
 ciate of Mr. Hastings. Curran asked me one day, if I was too 
 squeamish to go and sup with a former chere amie of his who 
 had pressed him to come that night, and permitted him to 
 bring a companion. He told me who it was and I was quite 
 pleased at the idea of knowing a person of whom I had heard 
 so much in Ireland. 
 
 We were received with the greatest cordiality and politeness 
 by Miss H. : another young lady and two children were in the 
 room. Curran was most humorous and enlivening, and every- 
 thing forboded a cheerful petit soi/pe^when the, lady told Cur- 
 ran she wished to speak a word to him in the next room. They 
 accordingly withdrew. I was in conversation with the gov- 
 erness and children, when I heard a noise like the report of a 
 small pistol, and Curran immediately rushed into the apart- 
 ment — Miss H. marching majestically after him. He took no 
 notice of me, but snatching up his hat, darted down stairs and 
 into the street with the utmost expedition. I really conceived 
 that she had fired at him ; and feeling dubious as to my own 
 probable fate (without a word passing) pounced upon my cha- 
 peau, and made after my friend in no small haste. I could not, 
 however, open the street door, and therefore gave myself up 
 for a murdered man, particularly on the bell ringing violently : 
 but the revulsion of my feelings was quite heavenly when I 
 heard Miss H.'s voice over the banister calling to her maid to 
 " open the street door for the gentleman." I lost no time in 
 making good my retreat, but did not see Curran again till next 
 morning. 
 
 I had the greatest curiosity to know the cause of his sudden 
 flight ; upon which he told me, but without any symptom of 
 wit or humor, that she was the most violent-tempered woman 
 
232 JOHN PHILPOT CURRAN. 
 
 existing; tliat on their going into the boudoir together, she in- 
 formed him that she was then considerably distressed for a sum 
 of money for two or three months ; and that as she had never 
 been under any pecuniary obligation to him she would now ask 
 one — namely, the loan of the sum she wanted, on her own 
 note. Curran, who was particularly close, dreading the amount, 
 anticipated her demand by hoping she did not suppose he could 
 be so mean as to require her note for any little advance he 
 might have it in his power to make ; and was happy in hand- 
 ing her 7uilf the sum at his command in London ; taking as he 
 spoke a <£10 note out of his pocket-book. " By heavens ! Bar- 
 rington," said Curran, " her look petrified me : she gazed for a 
 moment at the note — tore it to atoms, muttering the word 
 ' rascal !' and when I was preparing to make an apology, hit 
 me plump on the side of the head, with a fist at least as strong 
 as any porter's ! I thought my brains were knocked out ! did 
 you not hear the crack?" inquired he. "To be sure I did," 
 said I. " Did she say anything," continued he, " after I was 
 gone away 1" — " She only said," replied I, " that you were the 
 greatest rascal existing" (hereat Curran trembled hugely) " and 
 that she would next day find you out wherever you were, and 
 expose you all over London as a villain and a seducer !" 
 
 Curran turned pale as ashes, made some excuse for leaving 
 the room, and about dinner-time I found I had carried my joke 
 too far; for I received a note stating that he was necessitated 
 to start for Ireland directly on particular business, and would 
 be off in the mail. 
 
 I never told him the truth, particularly since the lady was 
 soon after married, as I have related, and had a noble estab- 
 lishment in London, and as I learned that Curran had found 
 means to make his peace with the offended fair, at whose table 
 he became a frequent guest. 
 
 Mrs. * * * afterward broke her neck by a fall down stairs : 
 and some people averred that a flask or two of champagne 
 had been playing tricks upon her. She was most agreeable 
 in her address and manner (her Amazonian paroxysms always 
 excepted). The extraordinary length of her feet (which were 
 like a pair of brackets) should have saved her from tumbling 
 
LORD CLANCARTY. 233 
 
 anywhere ; while, if I could judge by report, it was miraculous 
 how Curran's pegs preserved him on the perpendicular. 
 
 I remember once remarking to Curran how many men, though 
 all willing, and some competent to work, were destitute of 
 briefs at the Irish bar, yet contrived to make conspicuous 
 (though not over-talented) figures in political and diplomatic 
 situations. " Why, some," answered he, " thrive by the gift 
 of common sense ; others by the influence of their wives, and 
 such like causes." 
 
 Lord Clancarty and Mr. Vesey Fitzgerald were two Irish 
 barristers in whom I never could perceive the raw material for 
 embassadors — yet none ever dropped their "Nisi Prius," with 
 better effect. The former, though a friendly, honorable man, 
 seemed particularly ill calculated to shine among the immor- 
 tal carvers, who, at Vienna, cut up nations like dumplings, and 
 served around people and kingdoms to the members of their 
 company, with as little ceremony as if they had been dealing 
 only with paste and raspberries. 
 
 Lord Clancarty's family were for a long period highly re- 
 spected land proprietors in County Galway, and at the great cat- 
 tle fair of Ballinasloe : but never were remarkable for any pro- 
 fusion of talent. His lordship's father, usually called Billy 
 French, of Ballinasloe, was a nice dapper little man, wore tight 
 clean leather breeches, and was very like the late Lord Clan- 
 william, of amorous memory. He was extremely popular 
 among all classes. 
 
 The present peer was called to the Irish bar. Most men 
 are found to have some predominant quality when it is prop- 
 erly drawn forth : but, in sending Mr. French to the bar, his 
 friends found (after a due noviciate) that they were endeavor- 
 ing to extract the wrong commodity, and that his laAv would 
 never furnish a sufficient depot to recruit his pocket. During 
 the rebellion, however, I discovered that he was a most excel- 
 lent sergeant of dragoons, in which capacity his lordship was 
 my subaltern in the barristers' cavalry ; and I have the satis- 
 faction of reflecting, that a considerable portion of our rank and 
 file were, in a very short time after the union, metamorphosed 
 into embassadors, secretaries, judges, noblemen, bishops, and 
 
234: JOHN PHILPOT CURE AN. 
 
 ministers ! "What a loss must the empire have sustained, if we 
 had been all piked by the rebels ! a result not very improba- 
 ble, as I am apprehensive we should have proved rather help- 
 less fellows in a general engagement with twenty or thirty 
 thousand of those desperate gentry ! in which case the whole 
 kingdom of Ireland would have been left with scarcely suffi- 
 cient professors of the art of litigation to keep that science (as 
 well as the church and state) in preservation till new lawyers 
 could be broke into the harness. 
 
 Curran took no part in those fierce military associations, and 
 he was quite right. He was perfectly unadapted either to 
 command or to obey ; and as he must have done the one or 
 the other, he managed much better by keeping out of the broil 
 altogether ; as he himself said to me, " If I were mounted on 
 ever so good a charger, it is probable I should not stick ten 
 minutes on his back in any kind of battle : and if my sword 
 was ever so sharp, I should not be able to cut a rebel's head 
 off, unless he promised to ' stand easy' and in a good position 
 for me." 
 
 Curran had ordered a new bar wig, and not liking the cut 
 of it, he jestingly said to the peruke-maker, '"Mr. Gahan, this 
 wig will not answer me at all." 
 
 " Ht)w so, sir?" said Gahan : " it seems to fit." 
 
 " Ay," replied Curran, " but it is the very worst speaking 
 wig I ever had. I can scarce utter one word of common law 
 in it ; and as for equity, it is totally out of the question." 
 
 " Well, sir," said Mr. Gahan, the wig-maker, with a serious 
 face, " I hope it may be no loss to me. I dare say it will an- 
 swer Counsellor Trench." 
 
 But Counsellor Trench would not take the wig. He said 
 he could not hear a word in it. At length, it was sent by Gahan 
 to Mr. Vesey Fitzgerald, who, having at that time no pressing 
 occasion for either a speaking or hearing wig (in a professional 
 way), and the wig fitting his head, he purchased it from Mr. 
 Gahan, who sold it a bargain, on account of its bad character ; 
 though Curran afterward said, " he admitted that the wig had 
 been grossly calumniated ; for the very same head which Mr. 
 Vesey Fitzgerald then put it on, was afterward stationed at 
 
LORD AND LADY CAKLETON. 235 
 
 the front of the Irish exchequer, where every one of the king's 
 debtors and farmers were obliged to pay the wig-wearer some 
 very handsome and substantial compliment ! Mr. Fitzgerald 
 not being necessitated either to hear or speak one word upon 
 the occasion." 
 
 Chief- Justice Carleton was a very lugubrious personage. 
 He never ceased complaining of his bad state of health (or 
 rather of his hypochondriasm), and frequently introduced Lady 
 Carleton into his " Book of Lamentations :" thence it was re- 
 marked by Curran to be very extraordinary, that the chief- 
 justice should appear as plaintiff (plaintive) in every cause 
 that happened to come before him. 
 
 One Nisi-Prius day, Lord Carleton came into court, looking 
 unusually gloomy. He apologized to the bar for being neces- 
 sitated to adjourn the court and dismiss the jury for that day, 
 " though," proceeded his lordship, " I am aware that an impor- 
 tant issue stands for trial ; but, the fact is, I have met with a 
 domestic misfortune, which has altogether deranged my nerves ! 
 Poor Lady Carleton (in a low tone to the bar) has most unfor- 
 tunately miscarried, and " 
 
 "Oh, then, my lord!" exclaimed Curran, "there was no 
 necessity for your lordship to make any apology, since it now 
 appears that your lordship has no issue to try." 
 
 The chief-justice faintly smiled, and thanked the bar for 
 their consideration. 
 
 In 1812, Curran dined at my house in Brook street, London. 
 He was very dejected ; I did my utmost to rouse him — in vain. 
 He leaned his face on his hand, and was long silent. He 
 looked yellow, wrinkled, and livid ; the dramatic fire had left 
 his eye, the spirit of his wit had fled, his person was shrunken, 
 and his whole demeanor miserable and distressing. 
 
 After a long pause, a dubious tear standing in his eye, he on 
 a sudden exclaimed, with a sort of desperate composure, " Bar- 
 rington, I am perishing ! day by day I'm perishing ! I feel 
 it : you knew me when I lived — and you witness my annihila- 
 tion." He was again silent. 
 
 I felt deeply for him. I saw that he spoke truth : reason- 
 ing would only have increased the malady, and I therefore, 
 
236 JOHN P1IILPOT CURE AN. 
 
 tried another course — bagatelle. I jested with him, and re 
 minded him of old anecdotes. He listened, gradually his at- 
 tention was caught, and at length excited a smile ; a laugh 
 soon followed, a few glasses of wine brought him to his natural 
 temperament, and Curran was himself for a great part of the 
 evening. I saw, however, that he would soon relapse, and so 
 it turned out ; he began to talk to me about his family, and 
 that very wildly. He had conceived some strange prejudices 
 on this head, which I disputed with him, until I wearied of the 
 subject. 
 
 We supped together, and he sat cheerful enough until I 
 turned him into a coach, at one o'clock in the morning. I 
 never saw him after, in London. 
 
 Mr. Curran had a younger brother, who was an attorney — 
 very like him, but taller and better looking. This man had a 
 good deal of his brother's humor, a little wit, and much satire ; 
 but his slang was infinite, and his conduct very dissolute. He 
 was, in fact, what may be termed the best blackguard, of his 
 profession (and that was saying a great deal for him). My 
 friend had justly excluded him from his house, but occasionally 
 relieved his finances, until these'calls became so importunate, 
 that at length further compliance was refused. 
 
 " Sir," said the attorney to me, one day, " if you will speak 
 to my brother, I am sure he'll give me something handsome 
 before the week is out!" I assured him he was mistaken, 
 whereupon he burst into a loud laugh ! 
 
 There was a small space of dead wall, at that time, directly 
 facing Curran's house, in Ely place, against which the attor- 
 ney procured a written permission to build a little wooden box. 
 He accordingly got a carpenter (one of his comrades) to erect 
 a cobbler's stall there for him ; and having assumed the dress 
 of a Jobson, he wrote over his stall : " Curran, cobbler : Shoes 
 toe-pieced, soled, or heeled, on the shortest notice. — When the 
 stall is shut, inquire over the way." 
 
 Curran, on returning from court, perceived this worthy hard 
 at work, with a parcel of chairmen lounging round him. The 
 attorney just nodded to his brother — cried, " How do you do, 
 Jack?" — and went on with his employment. 
 
A.M ATTORNEY TURNED COBBLEK. 237 
 
 Curran immediately despatched a servant for the spend- 
 thrift, to whom having given some money, the snowboard was 
 taken down, the stall removed, and the attorney vowed that 
 he would never set np again as a cobbler. 
 
 I never knew Curran express more unpleasant feelings than 
 at a circumstance which really was too trivial to excite any 
 such. But this was his humor : he generally thought more of 
 trifles than of matters of importance, and worked himself up 
 into most painful sensations upon subjects which should only 
 have excited his laughter. 
 
 At the commencement of the peace he came to Paris, deter- 
 mined to get into French society, and thus be enabled to form 
 a better idea of their habits and manners — a species of knowl- 
 edge for which he quite languished. His parasites had told 
 him that his fame had already preceded him even to the closet 
 of Louis le Desire. He accordingly procured letters of intro- 
 duction from persons of high rank in England, who had fool- 
 ishly lavished favors and fortunes on the Bourbons and their 
 gang of emigrants, in general the most ungrateful (as time has 
 demonstrated) of the human species, although it- was then uni- 
 versally believed that they could not quite forget the series 
 of kindnesses Avhich had preserved them from starvation or 
 massacre. 
 
 Among other letters, he had the honor of bearing one, couched 
 in strong terms, from his royal highness the duke of Sussex to 
 the Count d'Artois, now king of France, reinstated on the throne 
 of his forefathers by the blood, the treasure, and the folly, of 
 England. 
 
 " Now I am in the right line," said Curran, " introduced by 
 a branch of one royal family to that of another : now I shall 
 have full opportunity of forming my own opinion as to the sen- 
 timents of the old and new nobility of France, whereon I have 
 been eternally though rather blindly arguing." 
 
 I was rather skeptical, and said : " I am disposed to think 
 that you will argue more than ever when you get home again. 
 If you want sentiment, I fancy Monsieur has very little of Sterne 
 in his composition." 
 
 " Egad, I believe there is two of you !" retorted Curran ; and 
 
238 JOHN PHILPOT CTJBRAN. 
 
 away he went to the Tuileries, to enter his name and see Mon- 
 sieur. Having left his card and letters of introduction (as 
 desired), he waited ten days for an audience : Monsieur was 
 occupied. A second entry was now made by Curran at the 
 palace ; and after ten days more, a third : but Monsieur was 
 still busy. A fresh entry and card of P. P. C. had no better 
 success. In my life I never saw Curran so chagrined. He 
 had devised excuses for the arrogant prince two or three times, 
 but this last instance of neglect quite overcame him, and in a 
 few days he determined to return to Ireland without seeing the 
 Count d'Artois or ascertaining the sentiments of the French 
 
 nobility. He told his story to Mr. L , a mutual friend of 
 
 ours in Paris, who said it must be some ©mission of the Swiss 
 porter. 
 
 " Certainly," said Curran, catching at this straw, " it must, 
 no doubt!" and his opinion was speedily realized by the re- 
 ceipt of a note from Monsieur's aid-de-camp, stating that his 
 royal highness would be glad to receive Mr. Curran at eight 
 o'clock the following morning. 
 
 About nine o'clock he returned to the hotel, and all I could 
 get from him in his wrath was, " D— : — n !" In fact, he looked 
 absolutely miserable. " To think," said he at length, " of this 
 fellow ! He told me he always dined with his brother, and 
 kept no establishment of his own; then bowed me out, by — -, 
 as if I was an importunate dancing-master !" 
 
 " "Wait till the next revolution, Curran," said I, " and then 
 we'll be even with him !" 
 
 At this moment Mr. L came in, and with a most cheer- 
 ful countenance said, "Well, Curran, I carried your point!" 
 
 " What point ?" asked Curran. 
 
 " I knew it would take," pursued L , smirking ; rt I told 
 
 Monsieur's aid-de-camp that you felt quite hurt and miserable 
 on account of Monsieur's having taken no notice of your letters 
 or yourself, though you had paid him four visits ; and that — " 
 
 " What do you say?" shouted Curran. 
 
 Upon L repeating his words with infinite glee, our dis- 
 appointed friend burst out into a regular frenzy, slapped his 
 face repeatedly, and walked about, exclaiming : " I'm dis- 
 
STRICTURES ON HIS BIOGRAPHERS. 239 
 
 graced ! — I'm humbled in the eyes of that fellow ! — I'm mis- 
 erable /" 
 
 I apprehend he had experienced but little more civility from 
 any of the restored gentry of the French emigrants, to several 
 of whom he brought letters, and I am sure had he received any 
 invitation from them I must have heard of it. I fancy that a 
 glass of eau sucre Avas the very extent of the practical hospi- 
 tality he experienced from Messieurs les emigres, who, if I 
 might judge by their jaws and cravats, of the quantity and 
 quality of their food, and of their credit with washerwomen, 
 were by no means in as flourishing a state as when they lived 
 on our benevolence. 
 
 There is much of the life of this celebrated man* omitted by 
 those who have attempted to write it. Even his son could 
 have known but little of him, as he was not born at the time 
 his father's glories had attained their zenith. Before he be- 
 came the biographer of his celebrated parent, Mr. Curran would 
 have' done well to inquire who had been that parent's decided 
 friends, and who his invidious enemies; who supported him 
 when his fame was tottering, and who assailed him when he 
 was incapable of resistance : if he had used this laudable dis- 
 cretion, he would probably have learned how to eulogize and 
 how to censure with more justice and discrimination. 
 
 No gentleman of our day kneAV Mr. Curran more intimately 
 than myself, although our natural propensities were in many 
 points quite uncongenial. His vanity too frequently misled 
 his judgment, and he thought himself surrounded by a crowd 
 of friends, when he was encompassed by a set of vulgar flatter- 
 ers ; he looked quite carelessly at the distinctions of society, 
 and in consequence ours was not generally of the same class, 
 and our intercourse more frequently at my house than at his. 
 But he could adapt himself to all ranks, and was equally at 
 home at Merrion square or at the Priory. 
 
 The celebrity of Ourran's life, and the obscurity of his death 
 — the height of his eminence, and the depth of his depres- 
 sion — the extent of his talents, and the humiliation of his im- 
 
 * Curran died, I believe, at Brompton, and was buried in Paddington 
 churchyard ; but I am ignorant whether or not a stone marks the spot 
 
240 THE LAW OF LIBEL. 
 
 becility — exhibited the greatest and most singular contrasts 
 I ever knew among the host of public characters with whom I 
 so long associated. 
 
 At the bar I never saw an orator so capable of producing 
 those irresistible transitions of effect which form the true crite- 
 rion of forensic eloquence. But latterly, no man became more 
 capable, in private society, of exciting drowsiness by prosing, 
 or disgust by grossness : such are the inconsistent materials of 
 humanity.* 
 
 I should not allude here to a painful subject as respects the 
 late Mr. Curran, had it not been so commonly spoken of, and* 
 so prominent an agent in his ulterior misfortunes : I mean that 
 unlucky suit of his against the Kev. Mr. Sandes. I endeav- 
 ored as much as possible to dissuade him from commencing 
 that action, having reason to feel convinced that it must ter- 
 minate in his discomfiture ; but he was obdurate, and had bit- 
 ter cause to lament his obduracy. I did my utmost also to 
 dissuade him from his unfortunate difference with Mr. Ponson- 
 by. I told him (as I firmly believed) that he was lorong, or at 
 all events imprudent, and that his reputation could bear no 
 more trifling with : but he did not credit me, and that blow 
 felled him to the earth ! 
 
 THE LAW OF LIBEL. 
 
 Observations on the Law of Libel, particularly in Ireland — " Hoy's Mercury" — Messrs. Van 
 Trump and Epaphroditus Dodridge — Former Leniency regarding Cases of Libel con- 
 trasted with recent Severity — Lord Clonmell and the Irish Bar— Mr. Magee, of the " Dub- 
 lin Evening Post" — Festivities on " Fiat Hill" — Theophilus Swift and his two Sons — His 
 Duel with the Duke of Richmond — The " Monster" — Swift libels the Fellows of Dublin 
 University — His Curious Trial — Contrast between the English and Irish Bars — Mr. James 
 Fitzgerald — Swift is found guilty, and sentenced to Newgate — Dr. Burrows, one of tho 
 Fellows, afterward libels Mr. Swift, and is convicted — Both confined in the same Apart- 
 ment at Newgate. 
 
 In the early part of my life, the Irish press, though supposed 
 to be under due restraint, was in fact quite uncontrolled. From 
 
 * It is very singular that one of the most accomplished men, the most 
 eloquent barristers, and best lawyers, I ever knew (a consin-german of Lord 
 Donoughmore), fell latterly, though at an early age, into a state of total im- 
 becility — became utterly regardless of himself, of society, and of the world 
 — and lived long enough to render his death a mercy ! 
 
FREEDOM OF THE PRESS. 241 
 
 the time of Dean Swift, and Draper's Letters, its freelom hag 
 increased at intervals, not only as to public, but private sub- 
 jects. This was attributable to several curious causes, which 
 combined to render the law of libel, although stronger in the- 
 ory, vastly feebler in practice, than at the present day ; and 
 whoever takes the trouble of looking into the Irish newspapers 
 about the commencement of the American Revolution, and in 
 1782, will find therein some of the boldest writing and ablest 
 libels in the English language. " Junius" was the pivot on 
 which the liberty of the press at one moment vibrated : liberty 
 was triumphant ; but if that precedent were to prevail to the 
 same extent, I am not sure it did not achieve too much. 
 
 The law of libel in England, however railed at, appears to 
 me upon the freest footing that private or public security can 
 possibly admit. The press is not encumbered by any previous 
 restraints. Any man may write, print, and publish, whatever 
 he pleases ; and none but his own peers and equals, in two 
 distinct capacities, can declare his culpability, or enable the 
 law to punish him as a criminal for a breach of it. I can not 
 conceive what greater liberty or protection the press *can re- 
 quire, or ought to enjoy. If a man voluntarily commits an 
 offence against the law of libel with his eyes open, it is only 
 fair that he should abide by the statute that punishes him for 
 doing so. Despotic governments employ a previous censorship, 
 in order to cloak their crimes and establish their tyranny. 
 England, on the other hand, appoints independent judges and 
 sworn jurors to defend her liberties ; and hence is confirmed to 
 the press a wholesome latitude of full and fair discussion on 
 every public man and measure. 
 
 The law of libel in Ireland was formerly very loose and 
 badly understood, and the courts there had no particular pro- 
 pensity for multiplying legal difficulties on ticklish subjects. 
 
 The judges were then dependent, a circumstance which 
 might have partially accounted for such causes being less fre- 
 quent than in later times ; but another reason, more extensively 
 operating, was, that in those days men who were libelled gen- 
 erally took the law into their own hands, and eased the king's 
 bench of great trouble by the substitution of a small-sword for 
 
 11 
 
242 THE LAW OF LIBEL. 
 
 a declaration, or a case of pistols for a judgment : and these 
 same articles certainly formed a greater check upon the propa- 
 gation of libels than the twelve judges and thirty-six jurors 
 altogether at the present day, and gave rise to a code of lawa 
 very different from those we call municipal. A third consid- 
 eration is, that scolding-matches and disputes among soldiers 
 were then never made matters of legal inquiry. Military offi- 
 cers are now, by statute, held unfit to remain such if they fight 
 one another, while formerly they were thought unfit to remain 
 in the army if they did not : formerly they were bound to fight 
 in person ; now they can fight by proxy, and in Ireland may 
 lure champions to contest the matter for them every day in 
 the week (Sunday excepted), and so decide their quarrels with- 
 out the least danger or one drop of bloodshed ! A few able 
 lawyers, armed with paper and parchment, will fight for them 
 all day long, and, if necessary, all night likewise ; and that, 
 probably, for only as much recompense as may be sufficient to 
 provide a handsome entertainment to some of the spectators 
 and to their pioneer attorney, who is generally bottle-holder 
 on these occasions. 
 
 Another curious anomaly is become obvious. If lawyers 
 now refuse to pistol each other, they may be scouted out of 
 society, though duelling is against the law ! but if military 
 officers take a shot at each other, they may be dismissed from 
 the army, though fighting is the essence and object of their 
 profession : so that a civilian, by the new lights of society, 
 changes places with the soldier ; the soldier is bound to be 
 peaceable, and the civilian is forced to be pugnacious — cedent 
 arma toga. It is curious to conjecture what our next meta 
 morphosis may be. 
 
 The first publication which gave rise (so far as I can remem- 
 ber) to decided measures for restraining the Irish press, was a 
 newspaper called " Hoy's Mercury," published nearly fifty 
 years ago by Mr. Peter Hoy, a printer, in Parliament street, 
 whom I saw some time since in his shop, on Ormond quay, in 
 good health, and who voted for me on the Dublin election of 
 1803. 
 
 In this newspaper, Mr. Hoy brought forward two fictitious 
 
HOY's MERCURY LORD CLONMELL. 243 
 
 characters — one called Van Trump, the other Epaphroditus 
 Dodridge. These he represented as standing together in one 
 of the most public promenades of the Irish capital ; and the 
 one, on describing the appearance, features, and dress of each 
 passer-by, and asking his companion " who that was ?" received, 
 in reply, a full account of the individual to such a degree of 
 accuracy as to leave no doubt respecting identity — particularly 
 in a place so contracted as (comparatively speaking) Dublin 
 then was. In this way, as much libellous matter was dissemi- 
 nated as would now send a publisher to jail for half his life ; 
 and the affair was so warmly and generally taken up, that the 
 lawyers were set to work, Peter Hoy sadly terrified, and Van 
 Trump and Epaphroditus Dodridge banished -from that worthy 
 person's newspaper. 
 
 But the most remarkable observation is, that as soon as the 
 Irish judges were, in 1782, made by statute independent of the 
 crown, the law of libel became more strictly construed, and 
 the libellers more severely punished. This can only be ac- 
 counted for by supposing that, while dependent, the judges felt 
 that any particular rigor might be attributed, in certain in- 
 stances, less to their justice than to their policy ; and, being 
 thus sensitive, especially in regard to crown cases, they were 
 chary of pushing the enactments to their full scope. After the 
 provision which rendered them independent of the ruling 
 powers, this delicacy became needless : but, nevertheless, a 
 candid judge will always bear in mind that austerity is no 
 necessary attribute of justice, which is always more efficient 
 in its operation when tempered with mercy. The unsalutary 
 harshness of our penal code has become notorious. True, it is 
 not acted up to ; and this is only another modification of the 
 evil, since it tempts almost every culprit to anticipate his own 
 escape. On the continent it is different. There, the punish- 
 ment which the law provides is certainly inflicted : and the 
 consequence is, that in France there is not above one capital 
 conviction to any Hcenty in England. 
 
 The late Lord Clonmell's* heart was nearly broken by 
 
 * His lordship's only son (married to a daughter of the marquis of Salis- 
 bury) is now a total absentee, and exhibits another lamentable proof that 
 
244 THE LAW OF LIBEL. 
 
 vexations connected with his public functions. He had been 
 in the habit of holding parties to excessive bail in libel cases 
 on his own fiat, which method of proceeding* was at length 
 regularly challenged and brought forward ; and the matter 
 being discussed with asperity in parliament, his lordship was, 
 to his great mortification, restrained from pursuing such a 
 course for the future. 
 
 He had in the court of king's bench used rough language 
 toward Mr. Hackett, a gentleman of the bar, the members of 
 which profession considered themselves as all assailed in the 
 person of a brother barrister. A general meeting was there- 
 fore called by the father of the bar ; a severe condemnation of 
 his lordship's conduct voted, with only one dissentient voice ; 
 and an unprecedented resolution entered into, that " until his 
 lordship publicly apologized, no barrister would either take a 
 brief, appear in the king's bench, or sign any pleadings for 
 that court." 
 
 This experiment was actually tried : the judges sat but no 
 counsel appeared ; no cause was prepared, the attorneys all 
 vanished, and their lordships had the court to themselves. 
 There was no alternative ; and next day, Lord Clonmell pub- 
 lished a very ample apology, by advertisement in the newspa- 
 pers, and, with excellent address, made it appear as if written 
 on the evening of the offence, and therefore voluntary.* 
 
 This nobleman had built a beautiful house near Dublin, and 
 
 the children even of men who rose to wealth and title by the favors of the 
 Irish people feel disgusted, and renounce for ever that country to which 
 they are indebted for their bread and their elevation ! 
 
 * An occurrence somewhat of the same nature took place at no very great 
 distance of time, at Maryborough assizes, between Mr. Daley a judge of the 
 Irish court of king's bench, and Mr. W. Johnson, now judge of the common 
 pleas in that country. 
 
 Mr. Daley spoke of committing Mr. Johnson for being rude to him, but, 
 unfortunately, he committed himself! A meeting was called, at which I 
 was requested to attend, but I declined. I was afterward informed, that my 
 refusal had (very unjustly) given offence to both parties. The fact is, that, 
 entertaining no very high opinion of the placability of either, I did not 
 choose to interfere, and so unluckily replied, that "(hey might fight dog, 
 fight bear — I would give no opinion about the matter." 
 
 One of the few things I ever forgot is, the way in which that affair termi- 
 nated: it made little impression on me at the time, and so my memory 
 rejected it 
 
FESTIVITIES ON FIAT HILL. 245 
 
 walled in a deer park, to operate medicinally, by inducing him 
 to use more exercise than he otherwise would take. Mr. 
 Magee, printer of the Dublin Evening Post (who was what 
 they call a little cracked, but very acute), one of the men 
 whom his lordship had held to excessive bail, had never for- 
 given it, and purchased a lot of ground under my lord's win- 
 dows, which he called " Fiat Hill :" there he entertained the 
 populace of Dublin, once a week, with various droll exhibitions 
 and sports : such, for instance, as asses dressed up with wigs 
 and scarlet robes ; dancing-dogs, in gowns, and wigs, as bar- 
 risters ; soaped pigs, &c. The assemblies, although produc- 
 tive of the greatest annoyance to his lordship, were not suffi- 
 ciently riotous to be termed a public nuisance, being scleiy 
 confined to Magee's own field, which his lordship, had unfor- 
 tunately omitted to purchase when he built his house. 
 
 The earl, however, expected at length to be clear of his 
 tormentors' feats — -at least for a while ; as Magee was found 
 guilty on a charge of libel, and Lord Olonmell would have no 
 qualms of conscience in giving justice full scope by keeping 
 him under the eye of the marshal, and consequently an absen- 
 tee from " Fiat Hill," for a good space of time. 
 
 Magee was brought up for judgment, and pleaded himself, 
 in mitigation, that he was ignorant of the publication, not 
 having been in Dublin when the libel appeared ; which fact, 
 he added, Lord Clonmell well know. He had been, indeed, 
 entertaining the citizens under the earl's windows, and saw 
 his lordship peeping out from the side of one of them the whole 
 of that day ; and the next day he had overtaken his lordship 
 riding into town. " And by the same token," continued 
 Magee, " your lordship was riding cheek by jowl with your own 
 brother Matthias Scott, the tallowchandler,* from Waterford, 
 and audibly discussing the price of fat, at the very moment I 
 passed you." 
 
 There was no standing this : a general laugh was inevitable ; 
 
 *Lord Clonmell and Matthias Seott vied with each other which had the 
 largest and most hanging pair of cheeks— vulgarly called jowls. His lord- 
 ship's chin was a treble one, while Matthias's was but doubled ; but then it 
 was broader and hung deeper than his brother's. 
 
246 THE LAW OF LIBEL. 
 
 and his lordship, with that address for which he was so re- 
 markable (affecting to commune a moment with his brother 
 judges), said, " It was obvious from the poor man's manner, 
 that he was not just then in a state to receive definite judg- 
 ment ; that the paroxysm should be permitted to subside before 
 any sentence could be properly pronounced. For the present, 
 therefore, he should only be given into the care of the marshal, 
 till it was ascertained how far the state of his intellect should 
 regulate the court in pronouucing its judgment." The marshal 
 saw the crisis, and hurried away Magee before he had further 
 opportunity of incensing the chief justice. 
 
 Theophilus Swift, who, though an Irishman, practised at the 
 English bar, gave rise to one of the most curious libel cases 
 that ever occurred in Ireland, and which involved a point of 
 very great interest and importance. 
 
 Theophilus had two sons. In point of figure, temper, dis- 
 position, and propensities, no two brothers" in the whole king- 
 dom were so dissimilar. Dean Swift, the elder, was tall, thin, 
 and gentlemanly, but withal an unqualified reformer and revo- 
 lutionist : the second, Edmond, was broad, squat, rough, and 
 as fanatical an ultra-royalist as the king's dominions afforded. 
 Both were clever men in their way. • 
 
 The father was a freethinker in every respect ; fond of his 
 sons, although materially different from either, but agreeing 
 with the younger in being a professed and extravagant loyalist. 
 He was bald-headed, pale, slender, and active, with gray eyes, 
 and a considerable squint : an excellent classic scholar, and 
 versed likewise in modern literature and belles-lettres. In 
 short, Theophilus Swift laid claim to the title of a sincere, 
 kind-hearted man ; but was, at the same time, the most 
 visionary of created beings. He saw everything whimsically 
 — many things erroneously — and nothing like another person. 
 Eternally in motion — either talking, writing, fighting or what- 
 ever occupation came uppermost, he never remained idle one 
 second while awake, and I really believe was busily employed 
 even in his slumbers. 
 
 His sons, of course, adopted entirely different pursuits ; and, 
 though affectionate brothers, agreed in nothing save a love for 
 
THEOPHILUS SWIFT'S DUEL WITH COL. LENNOX. 247 
 
 each other, and attachment to their father. They were both 
 writers, and good ones ; both speakers, and bad ones. 
 
 Military etiquette was formerly very conspicuous on some 
 occasions. I well recollect when a man bearing the king's 
 commission was considered as bound to fight anybody and 
 everybody that gave him the invitation. When the duke of 
 York was pleased to exchange shots with Colonel Lennox 
 (afterward duke of Richmond), it was considered by our friend 
 Theophilus as a personal offence to every gentleman in Eng- 
 land, civil or military ; and he held that every man who loved 
 the reigning family should challenge Colonel Lennox, until 
 somebody turned up who was good marksman enough to pene- 
 trate the colonel, and thus punish his presumption. 
 
 Following up his speculative notions, Mr. Swift actually 
 challenged Colonel Lennox for having the arrogance to fire at 
 the king's son. The colonel had never seen or even heard of 
 his antagonist; but learning that he was a barrister and a 
 gentleman, he considered that, as a military man, he was 
 bound to fight him as long as he thought proper. The result, 
 therefore, was a meeting ; and Colonel Lennox shot my friend 
 Theophilus clean through the carcass, so that, as Sir Callaghan 
 says, "he made his body shine through the sun!" Swift, 
 according to all precedents on such occasions, first staggered, 
 then fell — was carried home, and given over — made his will, 
 and bequeathed the duke of York a gold snuff-box ! However, 
 he recovered so completely, that when the duke of Richmond 
 went to Ireland as lord-lieutenant, I (to my surprise) saw Swift 
 at his grace's first levee, most anxious for the introduction. 
 His turn came ; and without ceremony he said to the duke, by 
 way of a pun, that " the last time he had the honor of waiting 
 on his grace, as Colonel Lennox, he received better entertain- 
 ment — for that his grace had given him a ball !" 
 
 " True," said the duke, smiling ; " and now that I am lord- 
 lieutenant, the least I can do is to give you a brace of them." 
 and in due time, he sent Swift two special invitations to the 
 balls, to make these terms consistent with his excellency's 
 compliments. 
 
 Swift, as will hence be inferred, was a romantic personage. 
 
248 THE LAW OF LIBEL. 
 
 In fact, he showed the most decisive determination not to die 
 in obscurity, by whatever means his celebrity might be ac 
 quired. 
 
 A savage, justly termed the monster, had, during Swift's career 
 at the bar, practised the most horrid and mysterious crime we 
 have yet heard of- — that of stabbing women indiscriminate- 
 ly in the street — deliberately and without cause ! He was at 
 length taken and ordered for trial : but so odious and detesta- 
 ble was his crime, that not a gentleman of the bar would act as 
 his advocate. This was enough to induce Swift to accept the 
 office. He argued truly that every man must be presumed in- 
 nocent till by legal proof he appears to be guilty, and that 
 there was no reason why " the monster" should be excepted 
 from the general rule, or that actual guilt should be presumed 
 on the charge against him more than any other charge against 
 any other person ; that prejudice was a primafacie injustice, 
 and that the crime of stabbing a lady with a weapon which 
 was only calculated to wound, could not be greater than that 
 of stabbing her to the heart, and destroying her on the instant ; 
 that if the charge had been cutting the lady's throat, he would 
 have had his choice of advocates. He spoke and published 
 his defence of the monster, who, however, was found guilty, 
 and not half punished for his atrocity. 
 
 Theophilus had a competent private fortune ; but as such 
 men as he must somehow be always dabbling in what is called 
 in Ireland " a bit of a lawsuit," a large percentage of his rents 
 never failed to get into the pockets of the attorneys and coun- 
 sellors ; and after he had recovered from the duke of Rich- 
 mond's perforation, and " the monster" had been incarcerated, 
 he determined to change his site, settle in his native country, 
 and place his second son in the university of Dublin. 
 
 Suffice it to say that he soon commenced a fracas with all 
 the fellows of the university, on account of their " not doing 
 justice somehow," as he said, " to the cleverest lad in Ireland !" 
 — and, according to his usual habit, he determined at once to 
 punish several of the offenders by penmanship, and regenerate 
 the great university of Ireland by a powerful, pointed, personal, 
 and undisguised libel against its fellows. 
 
SWIFT'S DUBLIN UNIVERSITY LIBEL. 249 
 
 Theophilus was not without some plausible grounds to work 
 upon ; but he never considered that a printed libel did not ad- 
 mit of any legal justification. He at once put half a dozen of 
 the fellows hors de societe, by proclaiming them to be perjurers, 
 profligates, impostors, &c, &c. ; and printed, published, and 
 circulated this his eulogium with all the activity and zeal which 
 belonged to his nature, working hard to give it a greater cir- 
 culation than almost any libel published in Ireland — and that 
 is saying a great deal ! — but the main tenor of his charge was 
 a most serious imputation and a very home one. 
 
 By the statutes of the Irish university, strict celibacy is 
 required ; and Mr. Swift stated that " the fellows of that uni- 
 versity, being also clergymen, had sworn on the Holy Evan- 
 gelists that they would strictly obey and keep sacred these 
 statutes of the university, in manner, form, letter, and spirit, 
 as enjoined by their charter from the virgin queen. But that, 
 notwithstanding such their solemn oath, several of these cler- 
 gymen, flying in the face of the Holy Evangelists and of 
 Queen Elizabeth, and forgetful of morality, religion, common 
 decency, and good example, had actually taken to themselves 
 each one woman (at least), who went by the name of Miss 
 Such-a-one, but who in fact had, in many instances, undergone, 
 or was supposed to have undergone, the ceremony and consum- 
 mation of marriage with such and such a perjured fellow and 
 parson of Dublin university : and that those who had not so 
 married, had done worse ! and that thereby they all had so 
 perjured themselves and held out so vicious a precedent to 
 youth, that he was obliged to take away his son, for fear of 
 contamination," &c, &c. 
 
 It is easy to conceive that this publication, from the pen of 
 a very gentlemanly, well-educated barrister, who had defended 
 " the monster" at the bar, and the duke of York in Hyde park, 
 and showed himself ready and willing to write or fight with 
 any man or body of men in Ireland, naturally made no small 
 bustle and fuss among a portion of the university men. Those 
 who had kept out of the scrape were not reported to be in any 
 state of deep mourning on the subject, as their piety was the 
 more conspicuous ; and it could not hurt the feelings of either 
 
 11* 
 
250 THE LAW OF LIBEL. 
 
 of them to reflect that he might possibly get a step in his pro- 
 motion, on account of the defection of those seniors whose 
 hearts might be broken, or removal made necessary, by the 
 never-ending perseverance of this tremendous barrister, who 
 had christened his son Dean Swift, that he might appear a rela- 
 tive of that famous churchman, the patron and idol of the Irish 
 people. 
 
 The gentlemen of the long robe were, of course, delighted 
 with the occurrence : they had not for a long time met with so 
 full and fair an opportunity of expending every sentence of 
 their wit, eloquence, law, and logic, as in taking part in thi* 
 celebrated controversy. I was greatly rejoiced at finding on 
 my table a retainer against the fellows and parsons of Trinity 
 college, whom I had always considered as a narrow-minded 
 and untalented body of men, getting from one thousand to fif- 
 teen hundred pounds a year each for teaching several hundred 
 students how to remain ignorant of most of those acquirements 
 that a well-educated gentleman ought to be master of. It is 
 true the students had a fair chance of becoming good Latin 
 scholars, of gaining a little Greek and Hebrew, and of under- 
 standing several books of Euclid, with three or four chapters 
 of Locke on the Human Understanding, and a sixpenny trea- 
 tise on logic, written by a very good divine (one of the body), 
 to prove clearly that sophistry is superior to reason.* This 
 being my opinion of them, I felt no qualms of conscience in 
 undertaking the defence of Theophilus Swift, Esq., though 
 most undoubtedly a libeller. It is only necessary to say that 
 Lord Olonmell, who had been (I believe) a sizer himself in that 
 university, and in truth all the judges (and with good reason), 
 felt indignant at Theophilus Swift's so violently assailing and 
 disgracing, in the face of the empire, the only university in 
 Ireland — thus attacking the clergy, though he defended a 
 u monster." 
 
 * Nothing can so completely stamp the character of the university of 
 Dublin as their suppression of the only school of eloquence in Ireland — - 
 "The Historical Society" — a school from which arose some of the most dis- 
 tinguished, able, and estimable characters that ever appeared in the forum, 
 or in the parliament of Ireland. This step was what the blundering Irish 
 Yould call " advancing backward." 
 
ENERGY OF IRISH BARRISTERS. 251 
 
 An information was in due form granted against Theophilus, 
 and, as he could neither deny the fact nor plead a justification 
 to the libel, of course we had but a bad case of it. But the 
 worse the case, the harder an Irish barrister always worked to 
 make it appear a good one. I beg here to observe that the 
 Irish bar were never so decorous and mild at that time as to 
 give up their briefs in desperate cases, as I have seen done in 
 England — politely to save (as asserted) public time, and con- 
 ciliate their lordships : thus sending their clients out of court, 
 because they thought they were not defensible. On the con- 
 trary, as I have said, the worse the case intrusted to an Irish 
 barrister, the more zealously did he labor and fight for his 
 client. If he thought it indefensible, why take a fee 1 But his 
 motto was, " While there is life, there is hope." During the 
 speeches of these resolute advocates, powder and perspiration 
 mingled in cordial streams adown their writhing features ; 
 their mouths, ornamented at each corner with generous froth, 
 threw out half a dozen arguments, with tropes and syllogisms 
 to match, while English gentlemen would have been cautiously 
 pronouncing one monosyllable, and considering most discreetly 
 what the next should be. In short, they always stuck to their 
 cause to the last gasp! — and it may appear fabulous to a 
 steady, regular English expounder of the law, that I have re- 
 peatedly seen a cause which the bar, the bench, and the jury, 
 seemed to think was irrecoverably lost— =- after a few hours' 
 rubbing and puffing (like the exertions of the Humane Society), 
 brought into a state of restored animation ; and, after another 
 hour or two of cross-examination and perseverance, the judges 
 and jury have changed their impressions, and sent home the 
 cause quite alive in the pockets of the owner and lawful so- 
 licitor. 
 
 In making these observations, I can not but mention a gen- 
 tleman then at the very head of the bar, as prime-sergeant of 
 Ireland — Mr. James Fitzgerald. I knew him long in great 
 practice, and never saw him give up one case while it had a 
 single point to rest upon, or he a puff of breath left to defend 
 it; nor did I ever see any barrister succeed, either in the 
 whole or partially, in so many cases out of a given number, as 
 
252 THE LAW OF LIBEL. 
 
 Mr. Fitzgerald : and I can venture to say (at least to think) 
 that if the Right Honorable James Fitzgerald had been sent 
 to Stockholm in the place of the Right Honorable Vesey Fitz- 
 gerald, his cher garcon, he would have worked Bernadotte to 
 the stumps, merely by treating him just as if he were a motion 
 in the court of exchequer. There was no treaty which the 
 government of England might have ordered him to insist upon, 
 that he would not have carried, at all events in a degree. 
 
 This is a digression : but having been accustomed, for near 
 forty years, to express my regard for that gentleman, and as 
 this is probably the last time I shall ever have an opportunity 
 of doing so, I was determined, in my " last speech," not to be 
 forgetful of my old, and, I really believe, sincere friend. 
 
 And now, reader ! (I have in my preface stated my objec- 
 tions to the epithet gentle), we will go back to Theophilus 
 Swift, and the college, and the king's bench. The trial at 
 length came on, and there were decidedly more parsons present 
 than I believe ever appeared in any court of justice of the 
 same dimensions. The court set out full gallop against us : 
 nevertheless, we Avorked on — twice twelve judges could not 
 have stopped us ! I examined the most learned man of the 
 whole university, Dr. Barret — a little, greasy, shabby, croak- 
 ing, round-faced, vice-provost : he knew of nothing on earth, 
 save books and guineas ; never went out, held but little inter- 
 course with men, and none at all with women. I worked at 
 him unsuccessfully for more than an hour ; not one decisive 
 sentence could I get him to pronounce. At length he grew 
 quite tired of me, and I thought to conciliate him by telling 
 him that his father had christened me. " Indeed !" exclaimed 
 he; "oh! I did not know you were a Christian!" At this 
 unexpected repartee, the laugh was so strong against me, that 
 I found myself muzzled. My colleagues worked as hard as I ; 
 but a seventy -horse power could not have moved the court. 
 It was, however, universally admitted that there was but one 
 little point against us out of a hundred which the other side 
 had urged : that point, too, had only three letters in it, yet it 
 upset all our arguments : that talismanic word " law" was more 
 powerful than two speeches of five hours each ; and, by the 
 
CONVICTION AND SENTENCE OF SWIFT. 253 
 
 unanimous concurrence of the court and jury, Theophilus Swift 
 was found guilty of writing, publishing, and undoubtedly 'pro- 
 ving, that certain persons, fellows of Dublin university, had 
 been living (conjugally) with certain persons of an entirely 
 different sex : and, in consequence, he was sentenced to twelve 
 months' imprisonment in his majesty's jail of Newgate, where 
 he took up his residence with nearly two hundred and forty 
 felons and handy pickpockets. 
 
 My poor visionary friend was in a sad state of depression : 
 but Heaven had a banquet in store for him which more than 
 counterbalanced all his discomfitures — an incident that I re- 
 ally think even the oracle of Delphos never would have thought 
 of predicting. 
 
 The Rev. Dr. Burrows was, of all, the most inveterate ene- 
 my and active prosecutor of my friend Theophilus. He was 
 one of those who, in despite of God and Queen Elizabeth, had 
 fallen in love, and indulged his concupiscence by uniting his 
 fortunes and person with the object of it — and thereby got 
 within the circle of Swift's anti-moralists. This reverend per- 
 son determined to make the public hate Theophilus, if possible, 
 as much as he did himself; and forgetting in his zeal the doc- 
 trine of libel, and the precedent which he had himself just 
 helped to establish, set about to slay the slayer, and write a 
 quietus for Theophilus Swift (as he supposed) during the rest 
 of his days ! Thus, hugging himself in all the luxury of com- 
 plete revenge on a fallen foe, Dr. Burrows produced a libel at 
 least as unjustifiable against the prisoner as the prisoner had 
 promulgated against him : and having printed, published, and 
 circulated the same, his reverence and madam conceived they 
 had executed full justice on the enemy of marriage and the 
 clergy. But alas ! they reckoned without their host. No 
 sooner had I received a copy of this redoubtable pamphlet, 
 than I hastened to my friehd Theophilus, whom, from a state 
 of despondency and unhappiness, I had the pleasure in half 
 an hour of seeing at least as happy and more pleased than any 
 king in Europe. It is unnecessary to say more than that I 
 recommended an immediate prosecution of the Rev. Dr. Bur- 
 rows, for a false, gross, and malicious libel against Theophilus 
 
254 THE LAW OF LIBEL. 
 
 Swift, Esq. Never was any prosecution better founded, or 
 more clearly and effectually supported ; and it took complete 
 effect. The reverend prosecutor, now culprit in his turn, was 
 sentenced to one half of Swift's term of imprisonment, and 
 sent off to the same jail. 
 
 The learned fellows were astounded ; the university so far 
 disgraced ; and Theophilus Swift immediately published both 
 trials, with observations, notes, critical, and historical, &c. 
 
 But, alas ! the mortification of the reverend fellow did uot 
 end here. On arriving at Newgate (as the governor informed 
 me) the doctor desired a room as high up as could be had 
 that he might not be disturbed while remaining in that man- 
 sion. The governor informed him, with great regret, that he 
 had not even a pigeon-hole in t]xe jail unoccupied at the time, 
 there being two hundred and forty prisoners, chiefly pickpock- 
 ets, many of whom were waiting to be transported ; and that, 
 till these were got rid of, he had no private room that would 
 answer his reverence : but there was a very neat and good 
 chamber in which were only two beds ; one occupied by a re- 
 spectable and polite gentleman ; and if the doctor could man- 
 age in this way meanwhile, he might depend on a preference 
 the moment there should be a vacancy. Necessity has no 
 law ; and the doctor, forced to acquiesce, desired to be shown 
 to the chamber. On entering, the gentleman and he exchanged 
 bows ; but in a moment both started involuntarily at sight of 
 each other. On one was to be seen the suppressed smile of 
 mental triumph, and on the other the grin of mortification. 
 
 But Swift (naturally the pink of politeness) gave no reason 
 for an increase of the doctor's chagrin. As the sunbeams put 
 out a fire, so did a sense of his folly flash so strong upon the 
 doctor's reason, that it extinguished the blaze of his anger ; 
 and the governor having left them, in a short time an cclair- 
 cissement took place between these two fellow-lodgers in a room 
 fourteen feet by twelve ! I afterward learned that they jogged 
 on very well together till the expiration of their sentences, and 
 I never heard of any libel published by either the doctor or 
 Swift afterward. 
 
STUDY OF HUMAN CHARACTER. 255 
 
 PULPIT, BAR, AND PARLIAMENTARY 
 ELOQUENCE. 
 
 Biographical and Characteristic Sketch of Dean Kirwan — His Extraordinary Eloquence— 
 The Peculiar Powers of Sheridan, Curran, and Grattan Contrasted — Observations on Pul- 
 pit, Bar, and Parliamentary Oratory. 
 
 A comparative scale of the talents of the celebrated men 
 of my day I have frequently attempted, but never with suc- 
 cess. Though I knew most of them in both private and pub- 
 lic, my mind could never settle itself to any permanent opinion 
 on so complicated a subject. Nevertheless, I quite agree with 
 the maxim of Pope, that " the noblest study of mankind is 
 man!" and, consequently, the analysis of human character 
 has ever formed one of my greatest amusements, though all 
 endeavors to reduce my observation to a system have proved 
 decidedly idle. Hence, I have at times grown out of humor 
 with the science altogether, and made up my mind that there 
 never was a more unprofitable occupation than that of deter- 
 mining a public character while the individual still lived. It 
 is only after the grave has closed on men, when they can 
 change no more, and their mortal acts are for ever terminated, 
 that their respective natures become truly developed. This is 
 a reflection that must surely force itself upon the mind and 
 heart of every observant man. 
 
 The depressions of adversity generally leave the ostensible 
 character pretty much as it appeared originally, save that it 
 occasionally throws out either abjectness or fortitude, and that 
 talent is sometimes elicited in a greater proportion than the 
 sufferer was imagined to possess. But I have always seen 
 high prosperity the true and almost infallible touchstone : and 
 since I have had leisure to observe the world, its effects upon 
 my fellow-countrymen have proved more remarkable than 
 upon the people of any other country ; and indeed, in many 
 instances, thoroughly ridiculous. 
 
 Eloquence, a first rate quality in my scale, is that for which 
 the Irish were eminently celebrated. But the exercise of this 
 
256 PULPIT, BAR, AND PARLIAMENTARY ELOQUENCE. 
 
 gift depends on so many accidental circumstances, and is withal 
 so much regulated by fashion, that its decline is scarcely sur- 
 prising. So few possess it, indeed, that it has become the in- 
 terest of the only body in Ireland accustomed to extempore 
 public speaking (the bar), to undervalue and throw it into the 
 back-ground, which they have effectually succeeded in doing. 
 A dull fellow can cry " come to the point !" as well as the most 
 eloquent declaiiner. 
 
 Pulpit eloquence is, in my opinion, by far the most important 
 of any ; the interest in which it is enlisted is, or ought to be, 
 tremendously absorbing ; and, in consequence, it is deserving 
 of the highest and most persevering cultivation. Yet, what is* 
 the fact 1 — unless we resort to the temples of sectarianism, and 
 run a risk of being annoyed by vulgarity and fanaticism, we 
 have little or no chance of meeting with a preacher who seems 
 in earnest. Polemical controversy may be carried on between 
 hireling priests without the least tincture of hearty zeal, and 
 bishops may think it quite sufficient to leave the social duties 
 and cardinal virtues to work their way by force of their own 
 intrinsic merits ; yet these are the points whereon a really 
 eloquent and zealous minister might rouse the attention of his 
 hearers to effectual purpose, and succeed in detaching them 
 from methodistical cant and rant, which, at present (merely in 
 consequence of apparent heartiness and a semblance of inspira- 
 tion), draw away both old and young — both sensible and 
 illiterate — from the tribe of cold metaphysical expositors who 
 affect to illustrate the Christian tenets in our parochial congre- 
 gations. 
 
 Nothing can better exemplify the latter observations than a 
 circumstance connected with the island of Guernsey. There 
 are seven protestant churches in that island, where the usual 
 service is gone through in the usual manner. A parcel of 
 methodists, however, professed themselves discontented with 
 our litany, established a different form of worship, and set up 
 a meeting-house of their own, giving out that they could save 
 two souls for every one that a common protestant parson could 
 manage. In due time they inveigled a set of fanatic persons 
 to form a singing-choir > which employed itself in chanting from 
 
SINGING VS. PREACHING DEAN KIRWAN. 257 
 
 morning till night ; every girl who wanted to put her voice in 
 tune being brought by her mother to sing psalms with the 
 methodists. This vocal bait, indeed, took admirably, and, in 
 a short time, the congregations of the seven churches might 
 have been well accommodated in one. On the other hand, 
 although the meeting-house was enlarged, its portals even were 
 thronged on every occasion, multitudes both inside and out all 
 squalling away to the very stretch of their voices. 
 
 The dean and clergy perceiving clearly that singing had 
 beaten praying out of the field, made a due representation to 
 the bishop of Winchester, and requested the instructions of 
 that right reverend dignitary, how to bring back the wayward 
 flock to their natural folds and shepherds. The bishop replied, 
 that as the desertion appeared to be in consequence of the 
 charms of melody, the remedy was plain — namely, to get 
 better singers than the methodists, and to sing better tunes ; in 
 which case the protestant churches would, no doubt, soon re- 
 cover every one of their parishioners. 
 
 Not having, for many years heard a sermon in Ireland, 1 am 
 not aware of the precise state of its pulpit oratory at present. 
 But of this I am quite sure : that politics and controversy are 
 not the true attributes of Christian worship, and that whenever 
 they are made the topic of spiritual discourse, the whole con- 
 gregation would be justified in dozing. 
 
 I have heard many parsons attempt eloquence, but very few 
 of them, in my idea, succeeded. The present archbishop of 
 Dublin worked hard for the prize, and a good number of the 
 fellows of Dublin college tried their tongues to little purpose : 
 in truth, the preaching of one minister rendered me extremely 
 fastidious respecting eloquence from the pulpit. 
 
 This individual was Dean Kirwan (now no more), who pro- 
 nounced the most impressive orations I ever heard from the 
 members of any profession at any era. It is true, he spoke 
 for effect, and therefore directed his flow of eloquence accord- 
 ing to its apparent influence. I have listened to this man 
 actually with astonishment. He was a gentleman by birth, 
 had been educated as a Roman catholic priest, and officiated 
 some time in Ireland in that capacity, but afterward conformed 
 
258 PULPIT, BAR, AND PARLIAMENTARY ELOQUENCE. 
 
 to the protestant church, and was received ad cundem. His 
 extraordinary powers soon brought him into notice, and he was 
 promoted by Lord Westmoreland to a living; afterward became 
 a dean, and would, most probably, have been a bishop ; but he 
 had an intractable turn of mind, entirely repugnant to the usual 
 means of acquiring high preferment. It was much to be 
 lamented, that the independence of principle and action which 
 he certainly possessed was not accompanied by any reputation 
 for philanthropic qualities. His justly high opinion vi himself 
 seemed (unjustly) to overwhelm every other consideration. 
 
 Dr. Kirwan's figure, and particularly his countenance, were 
 not prepossessing ; there was an air of discontent in his looks, 
 and a sharpness in his features, which, in the aggregate, 
 amounted to something not distant from repulsion. His manner 
 of preaching was of the French school : he was vehement for 
 a while, and then, becoming (or affecting to become) exhausted, 
 he held his handkerchief to his face : a dead silence ensued — 
 he had skill to perceive the precise moment to recommence 
 — another blaze of declamation burst upon the congregation, 
 and another fit of exhaustion was succeeded by another pause. 
 The n!en began to wonder at his eloquence, the women grew 
 nervous at his denunciations. His tact rivalled his talent, and 
 at the conclusion of one of his finest sentences, a " celestial 
 exhaustion," as I heard a lady call it, not unfrequently ter- 
 minated his discourse — in general, abruptly. If the subject 
 was charity, every purse was laid largely under contribution. 
 In the church of St. Peter's, where he preached an annual 
 charity sermon, the usual collection, which had been under 
 c£'200, was raised by the dean to c£l,100. I knew a gentleman 
 myself, who threw both his purse and watch into the plate ! 
 
 Yet the oratory of this celebrated preacher would have 
 answered in no other profession than his own, and served to 
 complete my idea of the true distinction between pulpit, bar, 
 and parliamentary eloquence, Kirwan in the. pulpit, Curran 
 at the bar, and Sheridan in the senate, were the three most 
 effective orators I ever recollect, in their respective departments. 
 
 Kirwan's talents seemed to me to be limited entirely to elo- 
 cution. I had much intercourse with him at the house of Mr. 
 
KIRWAN AND SHERIDAN. 259 
 
 Hely, of Tooke's court. While residing in Dublin, I met him 
 at a variety of places, and my overwrought expectations, in 
 fact, were a good deal disappointed. His style of address had 
 nothing engaging in it ; nothing either dignified or graceful. 
 In his conversation there was neither sameness nor variety ; 
 ignorance nor information ; and yet, somehow or other, he 
 avoided insipidity. His amour propre was the most prominent 
 of his superficial qualities ; and a bold, manly independence 
 of mind and feeling, the most obvious of his deeper ones. I 
 believe he was a good man, if he could not be termed a very 
 amiable one ; and learned, although niggardly in communica- 
 ting what he knew. 
 
 I have remarked thus at large upon Dean Kirwan,. because 
 he was by far the most eloquent and effective pulpit orator I 
 ever heard, and because I never met any man whose character 
 I felt myself more at a loss accurately to pronounce upon. It 
 has been said that his sermons were adroitly extracted from 
 passages in the celebrated discourses of Saurin, the Huguenot, 
 who preached at the Hague (grandfather to the late attorney- 
 general of Ireland). It maybe so ; and in that case all I can 
 say is, that Kirwan was a most judicious selector, and that I 
 doubt if the eloquent writer made a hundredth part of the im- 
 pression of his eloquent plagiarist. 
 
 I should myself be the plagiarist of a hundred writers, if I 
 attempted to descant upon the parliamentary eloquence of 
 Sheridan. It only seems necessary to refer to his speech on 
 Mr. Hastings' trial ; # at least, that is sufficient to decide me as 
 to his immense superiority over all his rivals in splendid decla- 
 mation. Many great men have their individual points of 
 superiority, and I am sure that Sheridan could not have 
 
 * I had an opportunity of knowing that Mr. Sheridan was offered £1,000 
 for that speech by a bookseller, the day after it was spoken, provided he 
 would write it out correctly from the notes taken, before the interest had 
 subsided ; and yet, although he certainly had occasion for money at the 
 time, and assented to the proposal, he did not take the trouble of writing a 
 line of it! The publisher was of course displeased, and insisted on his per- 
 forming his promise, upon which Sheridan laughingly replied in the vein of 
 Falstaff: "No, Hal! were I at the strappado, I would do nothing by com- 
 pulsion !" He did it at length, but too late ! and, as I heard, was (reason- 
 ably enough !) not paid. 
 
260 QUEEN CAROLINE. 
 
 preached, nor Kirwan have pleaded. Curran could have done 
 both, Grattan neither : but, in language calculated to rouse a 
 nation, Grattan, while young, far exceeded either of them. 
 
 I have often met Sheridan, but never knew him intimately. 
 He was my senior and my superior. While he was in high 
 repute, I was at laborious duties ; while he was eclipsing ev- 
 erybody in fame in one country, I was laboring hard to gain 
 any in another. He professed whiggism : I did not under- 
 stand it, and I have met very few patriots who appear to have 
 acted even on their own definition thereof. 
 
 QUEEN CAROLINE. 
 
 Reception of the late Queen Caroline (then Princess of Wales) at the Drawing-Room held 
 after the " Delicate Investigation" — Her Depression and subsequent Levity — Queen 
 Charlotte and the Princess compared and contrasted — Reflections on the Incidents of 
 that Day and Evening — The Thames on a Vauxhall Night. 
 
 I have often mused on the unfortunate history and fate of 
 the late Queen Caroline. It is not for me to discuss the merits 
 or demerits of her case, or to give any opinion on the conduct 
 of the ruling powers in the business. I shall only observe 
 that, though it was not possible to foresee such events as sub- 
 sequently took place, I had, from the time of my being pre- 
 sented to that princess by Lord Stowell, felt an unaccountable 
 presentiment that her destiny would not be a happy one. 
 
 Upon the close of the " delicate investigation," a drawing- 
 room of the most brilliant description was held at St. James's, 
 to witness the princess's reception by her majesty Queen Char- 
 lotte. I doubt if a more numerous and- sparkling assemblage 
 had ever been collected in that ancient palace. Curiosity had 
 no small share in drawing it together. 
 
 The sun was that day in one of his most glaring humors ; 
 he shone with unusual ardor into the windows of the antique 
 ballroom — seeming as if he wished at the same moment to 
 gild and melt down that mass of beauty and of diamonds which 
 
HER RECEPTION BY QUEEN CHARLOTTE. 261 
 
 was exposed to all his fervor. The crowd was immense, the 
 heat insufferable; and the effects resulting therefrom liberally 
 displayed themselves, though in different-tinted streams, upon 
 the faces of the natural and aided beauties. 
 
 I was necessitated to attend in my official dress : the friz- 
 zled peruke, loaded with powder and pomatum (covering at 
 least half the body of the sufferer), was wedged in among the 
 gaudy nobles. The dress of every person who was so fortu- 
 nate as to come in contact with the wigs, like the cameleon, 
 instantly imbibed the color of the thing it came in collision 
 with ; and after a short intimacy, many a full-dress black re- 
 ceived a large portion of my silvery hue, and many a splendid 
 manteau participated in the materials which render powder 
 adhesive. 
 
 Of all the distressed beings in that heated assembly, I was 
 most amused by Sir Vicary Gibbs, then attorney-general. 
 Hard-featured and impatient — his wig awry — his solids yield- 
 ing out all their essence — he appeared as if he had just arisen 
 (though not like Venus) from the sea. Every muscle of his 
 angular features seemed busily employed in forming hiero- 
 glyphic imprecations ! Though amused, I never pitied any 
 person more — except myself. Wedged far too tight to permit 
 even a heaving sigh at my own imprisonment, I could only be 
 consoled by a perspective view of the gracious Charlotte, who 
 stood stoutly before the throne like the stump of a baronial 
 castle to which age gives greater dignity. I had, however, in 
 due rotation, the lienor of being presented, and of kissing the 
 back of her majesty's hand. 
 
 I am, of course, profoundly ignorant of her majesty's man- 
 ner in her family, but certainly her public receptions were the 
 most gracious in the world : there could not be a more enga- 
 ging, kind, and condescending address than that of the queen 
 of England. It is surprising how different a queen appears in 
 a drawing-room and in a newspaper. 
 
 At length, the number of presentations had diminished the 
 pressure, and a general stir in the crowd announced something 
 uncommon about to take place. It was the approach of the ' 
 princess of Wales. 
 
202 QUEEN CAROLINE. 
 
 Whoever considered the painfully-delicate situation in which 
 this lady was then placed, could not help feeling a sympathy 
 for her apparent sufferings. Her father, the duke of Bruns- 
 wick, had not long before expired of his wounds received at 
 Jena ; and after her own late trials, it was, I thought, most 
 inauspicious that deep mourning should he her attire on her 
 reception— -as if announcing at once the ill fate of herself and 
 of her parent : her dress was decked with a multiplicity of 
 black bugles. She entered the drawing-room leaning on the 
 arm of the duke of Cumberland, and seemed to require the 
 support. To her, in truth, it must have been a most awful 
 moment. The subject of the investigation, the loss of her nat- 
 ural protector, and the doubts she must have felt as to the pre- 
 cise nature of her reception by the queen, altogether made a 
 deep impression on every one present. She tottered to the 
 throne : the spectacle grew interesting in the highest degree. 
 I was not close ; but a low buzz ran round the room that she 
 had been received most kindly, and a few moments sufficed to 
 show that this was her own impression. * 
 
 After she had passed the ordeal, a circle was formed for her 
 beyond the throne. I wished for an introduction, and Lord 
 Stowell (then Sir William Scott) did me that honor. I had 
 felt, in common with everybody, for the depression of spirits 
 with which the princess had approached her majesty. I, for 
 my part, considered her in consequence as full of sensibility at 
 her own situation ; but, so far as her subsequent manner shoAved, 
 I was tot Uy deceived. The trial was at an end, the queen 
 had been kind, and a paroxysm of spirits seemed to succeed 
 and mark strange contrast to the manner of her entry. I 
 thought it was too sudden and too decisive : she spoke much, 
 and loud, and rather bold. It seemed to me as if all recollec- 
 tion of what had passed was rapidly vanishing. So far it 
 pleased me, to see returning happiness ; but still the kind of 
 thing made no favorable impression on my mind. Her circle 
 was crowded ; the presentations numerous ; but, on the whole, 
 she lost ground in my estimation. 
 
 This incident proved to me the palpable distinction between 
 feeling and sensibility — words which people misconstrue and 
 
THE THAMES ON A VAUXIIALL NIGHT. 263 
 
 mingle without discrimination. I then compared the two la- 
 dies. The hearing of Queen Charlotte certainly was not that 
 of a heroine in romance ; hut she was the best-bred and most 
 graceful lady of her age and figure I ever saw — so kind and 
 conciliating, that one could scarcely believe her capable of 
 anything but benevolence. She appeared plain, old, and of 
 dark complexion ; but she was unaffected, and commanded that 
 respect which private virtues ever will obtain for public char- 
 acter. I liked her vastly better than her daughter-in-law ; in- 
 deed, I never could reconcile myself, in any instance, to extra- 
 natural complexions. 
 
 I returned from the drawing-room with a hundred new thoughts 
 excited by circumstances which had never occurred to me on 
 any former occasion, and, by the time I arrived at the Adelphi, 
 had grown from a courtier into a philosopher ! Even there, 
 however, my lucubrations were doomed to interruption. From 
 my chamber at the Caledonian, the beauty of the animated 
 Thames quite diverted my mind from the suffocating splendor 
 under the pressure of which I had passed three hours. The 
 broad, unruffled tide, reflecting the rich azure of the firmament, 
 awakened in my mind ideas of sublimity which would have 
 raised it toward heaven, had not dinner and a new train of 
 observation unfortunately recalled me to worldly considerations, 
 which I fancied I had for one evening completely set aside. 
 Another scene of equal brilliance in its own way soon riveted 
 my attention. It was a Vauxhall evening — and thousands of " 
 painted and gilded skiffs darted along under my windows, 
 crowded with flashy girls and tawdry cits, all enveloped in 
 their holyday glories, and appearing to vie in gaudiness with 
 the scullers of which they were the cargo. Here elegance and 
 vulgarity, rank and meanness, vice and beauty, mingling and 
 moving over the waters, led me to the mortifying reflection 
 that this apparently gay and happy company probably com- 
 prised a portion of the most miserable and base materials of, 
 the British population, 
 
 I soon became fatigued by the brilliant sameness of the 
 scene ; and a sort of spurious philosophy again led me back to 
 the queen's drawing-room, and set me reflecting on numerous 
 
264 LOED YELVEETON AND THE BAE. 
 
 subjects, in which I had not the remotest interest ! but as soli- 
 tary reasoning is one of the very greatest incentives to drow- 
 siness, that sensation soon overcame all others : the sensorial 
 powers gradually yielded to its influence ; and, in a short time, 
 the queen and the princess of Wales — the drawing-room and 
 the gilded boats — the happy-looking girls and assiduous gal- 
 lants, all huddled together in most irreverent confusion, sheered 
 off (as a seaman would say), and left a sound and refreshing 
 slumber in place of all that was great and gay — dazzling and 
 splendid — in the first metropolis of the European hemisphere. 
 
 LORD YELVEETON AND THE BAR. 
 
 Characteristic and Personal Sketches of Three Irish Barristers : Mr. William Fletcher (af- 
 terward Chief-Justice of the Court of Common Pleas), Mr. James Egan (afterward Judge 
 of Dublin County), and Mr. Bartholomew Hoare, Kinc's Counsel — Lord Yelverton's Din- 
 ner-Party — The Author's Parody — Mr. Egan right by Mistake. 
 
 Mr. William Fletcher, since chief-justice of the common 
 pleas ; Mr. James Egan, afterward judge of Kilmainham ; and 
 Mr. Bartholomew Hoare, one of the king's counsel, were cer- 
 tainly the three most intractable men of their profession, though 
 of characters very dissimilar. 
 
 Mr. Fletcher, a clever man and excellent lawyer, had a 
 surly temper combined with a kind heart and an honest, free- 
 spirited principle, which never forsook him either in private 
 life or as a public functionary. He was hard featured, and 
 although morose in court, disposed to jocularity in society ; his 
 appetite seemed to decline toward gourmandise, and, in fact, 
 toward voluptuousness, generally speaking. As a judge, he 
 was upright, uninfluenced, and humane. 
 
 Mr. Egan, a huge, coarse-looking, red faced, boisterous fel- 
 low, to as tender a heart as ever was enclosed in so rough an 
 outside, added a number of other good qualities which it would 
 be too much to expect should exist without some alloy. His 
 manners were naturally gross rather than refined ; and it was 
 very curious to see him in full dress, endeavor to affect good 
 
LORD YELVERTOn's DINNER PARTY. 265 
 
 breeding. He had immense business at the bar at the time of 
 Lord Yelverton presided in the court of exchequer ; and he 
 executed that business zealously and successfully, with, how- 
 ever, as occasion served, a sprinkling of what we term balder- 
 dash. In fact, he both gave and received hits and cuts with 
 infinite spirit, and in more ways than one ; for he had fought a 
 good number of duels (one with swords), and had the good for- 
 tune to escape with an unpierced skin. Natural death was his 
 final enemy, and swept him off long before nature ought to 
 have had any hand in it. He died judge of Dublin county. 
 
 Bartholomew Hoare was the inferior of both. He wrote 
 well, but spoke most disagreeably ; his harangues being sen- 
 tentious and diffuse, though not destitute of point. He was ill- 
 tempered, arrogant, and rude, with a harsh expression of coun- 
 tenance ; but withal, what was termed " an able man." In 
 point of intellect, indeed, he perhaps exceeded Egan, but in 
 heart I must rank him inferior. Egan was popular with the 
 most talented men of his profession : Hoare could never at- 
 tain popularity in any shape. 
 
 These are merely fugitive sketches of three men of the Irish 
 bar who (I knew not why) were generally named together, but 
 whose respective careers terminated very differently : Barthol- 
 omew Hoare died in great distress. 
 
 The chief-baron, Lord Yelverton, got one day after dinner, 
 at his house at Fairview, into an argument with Egan, which 
 in truth, he always courted, to enhance the merriment of the 
 company. Hoare never heard an argument in his life between 
 any two persons, or upon any subject, wherein he did not long 
 to obtrude ; and Fletcher, if he thought he had conceived a 
 good hit, was never easy till he was delivered of it. On the 
 evening in qfuestion, the trio had united in contesting with 
 their host all manner of subjects, which he had himself design- 
 edly started, to excite them. He was in high glee, and played 
 them off in a style of the most superior wit and cleverness, as- 
 sisted by much classic quotation : by successive assaults he 
 upset the three, who were as less than one in the hands of 
 Yelverton, when he chose to exert himself. The evening cer- 
 tainly turned out among the pleasantest I ever passed in society. 
 
 12 
 
266 LORD YELVERTON AND THE BAK. 
 
 Lord Yelverton's wit and humor had a sort of weight and 
 solidity in it, which emitted a fervid as well as a blazing light. 
 I opened not my lips ; had I mingled in their disputation, I 
 should not only have got my full portion of the tattooing (as 
 they termed it), but also have lost, in becoming an actor, the 
 gratification of witnessing the scene. At length Lord Yelver- 
 ton wrote under the table with a pencil the following words, 
 and sent the scrap by a servant to me : " Barrington, these fel- 
 lows will never stop ! pray write so??icthing about them, and 
 send it to me." I left the room, and having written the fol- 
 lowing parody in a hand to resemble printing, sent it in to his 
 lordship sealed as a letter: — 
 
 "Three pleaders, in one vulgar era born, 
 Mount Melie, Cork, and Blarney, did adorn: 
 In solemn surliness the first surpassed, 
 The next in balderdash — in both the last: 
 The force of nature could no farther go ; 
 To make a third, she joined the former two!" 
 
 Lord Yelverton, not expecting the lampoon to come in form 
 of a letter, was greatly diverted ; it was read over and over 
 again, amidst roars of laughter. Everybody entertained his 
 own conjecture respecting the writer, and each barrister ap- 
 propriated to himself one of the three characteristics. I was 
 not at all suspected that night, since I had in no wise inter- 
 fered, and my brief absence had not been noticed : but next 
 day in court, it somehow came out. Nobody but Hoare was 
 vexed, and him I silenced by threatening that I would write 
 another epigram on him solus if he provoked me. 
 
 Egan, however, professed annoyance at me for some cause 
 or other in the course of that day. He was never remarkable 
 for the correctness of his English. In speaking to some motion 
 that was pending, he used the word obdurate frequently. I 
 happened to laugh ; Egan turned round, and then addressing 
 himself to the chief baron, " I suppose, my lord," said he, iron- 
 ically, " the gentleman laughs at my happening to pronounce 
 the word obdurate wrong." 
 
 "No, my lord," replied I, " I only laughed because he hap- 
 pened to pronounce it right." 
 
 I never heard him utter the word obdurate afterward. 
 
AN ECCENTRIC IRISH BARRISTER. 267 
 
 ME. NORCOT'S ATTEMPT AT SUICIDE. 
 
 The Hollowness of Interested Popularity Illustrated in the Example of Mr. Norcot — The 
 Dilemma of a Gamester — The last Resource — The "Faithful" Valet — Mr. Norcot turns 
 Mohammedan — His Equivocal Destiny. 
 
 Mr. Norcot was an eccentric Irish barrister, the uncertainty 
 of whose fate has given rise to a vast number of surmises : the 
 last authentic account described him as a Turk selling rhubarb 
 and opium in the streets of Smyrna ! When the duke of Rich- 
 mond was lord-lieutenant of Ireland he was a great favorite 
 at the castle-revels. He could drink as stoutly as the duke 
 himself, touch the piano as well as a lady, or gamble as deeply 
 as any of the gentlemen : he could jest even better than Sir 
 Charles Vernon, and drove, in his entertainments, all other 
 bachelors out of the field. Hence his reception was so flatter- 
 ing, that he discarded all reflection, and at length found his 
 purse empty, his resources dry, his profession unproductive, his 
 estate melted down, and his reputation not improved. The 
 noble duke gave him no place — but at his dinner-table, while 
 smiles and lemonade were the favors of the duchess : the 
 courtiers turned their faces toward him while he was rich, and 
 their backs when he had grown poor : his best puns began to 
 pass without notice, his mimicry excited no laughter, and his 
 most high-flown compliments scarcely received a courtesy. 
 
 A fat, hearty, convivial fellow does not perceive what is 
 termed the half-cut near so soon as your lank, sensitive, thor- 
 ough-paced goer : and Norcot was not completely undeceived 
 as to his own declining influence until one evening, having 
 lost much more money than he had to pay, he began to con- 
 sider how to make up the deficiency. He had very little cash 
 left anywhere, and was not versed in the borrowing system : 
 so he thought he would wait a few days to see what Providence 
 would be pleased to do for him; and as he had never thought 
 it worth his while to rely upon her before, he did not know 
 exactly in what way to court her assistance. Irish gentlemen 
 so circumstanced are very apt to suppose that they may find 
 
268 MK. NOKCOT's ATTEMPT AT SUICIDE. 
 
 Providence, or in other words good luck, at the bottom of two 
 or three bottles of wine, and accordingly never omit the appli- 
 cation thereunto. Norcot pursued the usual course, and cer- 
 tainly made away with that number at least, next night with 
 the duke, But alas ! this kind of exorcism was unsuccessful 
 in his instance, and he was necessitated to return home, at 
 three o'clock in the morning, sobered by the very lassitude of 
 excess, and maddened by reflection. On arriving, he threw him- 
 self into his arm-chair, his mind became confused, his reason 
 wandered : he thought of resources, there was none ! but the 
 extent of his poverty and debts being as yet not publicly 
 known, he thought of borrowing ; the plan, however, seemed a 
 doubtful one ; and besides, he was deterred from trying it by 
 his pride. He next thought of prison : this inflamed his brain 
 still farther, and drove him upon the fearful alternative of sui- 
 cide ! Here a door of retreat seemed open, although whither 
 it led he knew not : but he had neither heart to bear up against 
 misfortune, nor religion to assuage it ; he had no steady friend 
 to advise with, and no liberal one to relieve him. 
 
 He sank for a moment into an enviable state of insensibility. 
 His servant Thomas, a broad, faithful Irishman, but who never 
 had known the meaning of any kind of feelings (except cor- 
 porealities), stood by, surprised at the change in his master's 
 manner. " Thomas !" exclaimed the desponding Norcot, 
 " Thomas, are my pistols charged 2" 
 
 " Right well, plaze your honor," replied Thomas. 
 
 " The flints, Thomas V 
 
 " I'm sure they'd strike fire enough to burn a barrel of gun- 
 powder, if your honor wanted to blow it up !" 
 
 " Bring them hither !" said Norcot. 
 
 Thomas did not approve of this order, and answered, " Sure 
 your honor can't want them till daylight, any how !" But, 
 upon Norcot's authoritatively waving his hand, he brought the 
 pistols, wondering what his master wanted with them. 
 
 " Thomas," said the desperate man, " you were always 
 faithful !" 
 
 " And why should not 1 V said Thomas. 
 
 " Well, then, Thomas, I can live no longer !" 
 
A TIMELY PRECAUTION". 269 
 
 " Thunder and oons, Master ! why not %" 
 
 " 'Tis enough to say, Thomas," pursued the hapless barrister, 
 taking up one of the pistols, " that I am determined to die." 
 
 Thomas never having seen such a catastrophe, was quite 
 alarmed, but all his eloquence was in vain : having wept and 
 argued to no purpose, he ran toward the window to shout mur- 
 der, but it was fast. Norcot (who was an unbeliever), shud- 
 dering meanwhile less at the idea of the crime he contem-" 
 plated than at that of eternal annihilation (which his tenets 
 induced him to anticipate), said, " Thomas, take one of these 
 pistols and put it to my head : apply the other here, to my 
 heart ; fire both together, and put me out of my pain — for die 
 I will!" 
 
 Thomas mused and bethought himself, and then answered, 
 " I am willing to do the best I can for so good a master, but 
 truly I can't shoot, and may be I'd miss your honor ! hadn't I 
 better go to some gentleman of your acquaintance that I heard 
 you say never missed anybody — and who would do it clev- 
 erly V 
 
 " None but you," returned the unyielding desperado, " shall 
 shoot me, Thomas !" 
 
 "I never shot anybody!" cried the servant: "but," taking 
 up the pistols, " your honor says, one at your head : may I 
 crave what part of it !" 
 
 " There," said Norcot, pointing to his temple ; " the other 
 through my heart !" 
 
 " And which side is your honor's heart to-night ?" inquired 
 the dilatory valet. 
 
 " Here !" replied Norcot : " now cock and fire !" 
 
 Thomas, who had been planning all this time how to get rid 
 of the business, now seemed on the sudden to recollect himself. 
 "But, master dear!" said he, "when you were going to fight 
 a duel with that Captain O'Brien, at the Cove of Cork, your 
 honor took out Surgeon Egan with you, saying, that no gentle- 
 man should risk his life without a doctor : so, if you plase, I'll 
 just step over first and foremost, and fetch Surgeon Mackliu 
 here for fear of accidents /" Without waiting any reply, he in- 
 stantly stepped out of the room as fast as he could, taking the 
 
270 me. norcot's attempt at suicide. 
 
 pistols with Mm, and leaving Norcot in astonishment : he 
 actually went to the doctor, told him the story, and brought 
 him over to reason with his master, who remained in a state of 
 perfect distraction. However, the fit somewhat subsided ; and 
 the incident being thus placed in a novel and ridiculous point 
 of view had the most extraordinary effect on Norcot's mind. 
 He recovered the use of his reason, and calm reflection suc- 
 ceeded the burning frenzy. He could scarcely avoid smiling 
 at Thomas : and relating the adventure himself, pretended it 
 was only a trick of his own to terrify his servant. But when 
 he was left to himself, he considered what was best to be done, 
 and adopted it. He made up all the means he could, and got 
 into a place of secrecy, where he awaited the result of the 
 " chapter of accidents," and the efforts of his great friends to 
 procure him some employment for subsistence : nor was he long 
 unprovided for. He was appointed to an office, I think at 
 Malta, but where he soon disgraced himself in a manner which 
 for ever excluded him from society. Being now lost past 
 all redemption, he fled to the Morea, and thence to Constan- 
 tinople, where he renounced the cross and became a Mussul- 
 man. But even there he was not fortunate : he has for some 
 time been lost sight of, and exhibits a most edifying lesson to 
 the dissipated and unbelieving. After commencing the world 
 with as plausible prospects of success and respectability as 
 most men of his day, Norcot, if dead, has died a disgraced and 
 blasphemous renegado; thus confirming an observation of mine, 
 throughout life, that a free thinker is ever disposed to be also a 
 free actor, and is restrained from the gratification of all his 
 vices only by those laws which provide a punishment for their 
 commission. 
 
INFALLIBILITY OF JUDGES. 271 
 
 ANECDOTES OE IRISH JUDGES. 
 
 Baron Monckton — Judge Boyd — Judge Henn — Legal Blunder of a Judge, nnd Curran's Bon- 
 mot thereon — Baron Power — His Suicide — Crosby Morgal's Spirit of Emulation — Judge 
 William Johnson — Curious Anecdote with him and the Author — Judge Kelly — His Char- 
 acter and Bon-mots — Lord Kilwarden — His Character — Murder of Him and his Nephew 
 the Rev. Mr. Wolfe — Mr. Emmet Executed — Memoir of that Person — Judge Robert John- 
 eon — Arrested in Ireland, and Tried in London, for a Libel written on Lord Redesdale 
 in Ireland and Published by Cobbttt — Doubts of the legality of his lordship's Trial — He 
 is found Guilty. 
 
 Before and for some time after I was called to the bar, the 
 bench was in some instances very curiously manned as to 
 judges. The uniform custom had previously been to send 
 over these dignitaries from England ; partly with a view to 
 protect the property of absentees, and partly from political 
 considerations : and the individuals thus sent, appeared as if 
 generally "selected because they were good for nothing else. 
 In truth, till the judges of Ireland were made independent of 
 the crown in 1784, no English barrister who could earn his 
 bread at home would accept a precarious office in a strange 
 country, and on a paltry salary. Such Irishmen, also, as were 
 in those days constituted puisne judges, were of the inferior 
 class of practising barristers, on account of the last mentioned 
 circumstance. 
 
 A vulgar idea, most ridiculous in its nature, formerly pre- 
 vailed in Ireland, of the infallibility of judges. It existed at 
 an early period of my observations, and went so far even as to 
 conceive that an ignorant barrister, whose opinion nobody 
 probably would ask, or, if obtained, would act upon — should 
 he, by interest, subserviency, or other fortuitous circumstances, 
 be placed on the judicial bench, immediately changed his 
 character — all the books in his library pouring their informa- 
 tion into his head ! The great seal and the king's patent were 
 held to saturate his brain in half an hour with all that wisdom 
 and learning which he had in vain been trying to get even a 
 peep at during the former portion of his life ; and the mere 
 dicta of the metamorphosed barrister were set down, by repor- 
 ters, as the infallible (but theretofore inexplicable) law of the 
 
272 ANECDOTES OF IRISH JUDGES. 
 
 land ; and, as such, handed round to other judges under the 
 appellation of precedents, entitled to all possible weight in 
 judicial decisions. 
 
 The old doctrine of the infallibility of dicta and precedents 
 (which presented, in fact, an accumulation of enigmas and con- 
 tradictions), was at one time carried to great lengths ; I be- 
 lieve partly from a plausible system of making legal decisions 
 uniform, whether right or wrong ; and perhaps partly from the 
 inability of the adopters to make any better sort of precedent 
 themselves. A complaisance so ridiculous has of late been 
 much relaxed. 
 
 To show the gradual and great improvement of the Irish 
 bench, and the rapid advance in the administration of justice 
 in the law courts of that country, I will subjoin a few illustra- 
 tive anecdotes. 
 
 Baron Monckton, of the exchequer (an importation from 
 England), was said to understand black letter and red wine 
 better than any who had preceded him in that situation. At 
 all events, being often vino dcditus, he on those occasions 
 described the segment of a circle in making his way to the 
 seat of justice ! This learned baron was longer on the bench 
 than any other in my recollection. I have also in later days 
 enjoyed the intimacy of a very clever, well-informed man, and 
 a sound lawyer, who (like the baron'j rather indecorously in- 
 dulged in the juice of the grape, and whom Lord Clare had 
 made a judge for some services rendered to himself. The 
 newspapers eulogized this gentleman very much for his singu- 
 lar tender-heartedness, saying, " So gj eat was the humanity of 
 Judge Boyd, that when he was passing sentence of death upon 
 any unfortunate criminal, it was observable that his lordship 
 seldom failed to have " a drop in his eye !" 
 
 I remember a barrister being raised to the Irish bench, who 
 had been previously well-known by the ingenious surname of 
 Counsellor Necessity — because " necessitas non legem habet :" 
 and certainly to do him no more than justice, he consistently 
 merited the cognomen after his elevation as well as before. 
 
 Old Judge Henn (a very excellent private character) was 
 dreadfully puzzled on circuit, about 1789, by two pertinacious 
 
BON-MOT OF CURKAN. 273 
 
 young barristers, arguing a civil bill upon some trifling subject, 
 repeatedly haranguing the court, and each most positively 
 laying down the " law of the case" in direct opposition to his 
 adversary's statement thereupon. The judge listened with 
 great attention until both were tired of stating the law and 
 contradicting each other, when they unanimously requested 
 his lordship to decide the point. 
 
 "How, gentlemen," said Judge Henn, "can I settle it be- 
 tween you 1 You, sir, positively say the law is one way, and 
 you (turning to the opposite party) as unequivocally affirm that 
 it is the other way. I wish to God, Billy Harris [to his regis- 
 trar, who sat underneath] I knew what the law really was !" 
 
 ; " My lord," replied Billy Harris, most sententiously, rising 
 at the same moment, and casting a despairing glance toward 
 the bench ; '* if I possessed that knowledge, I protest to God I 
 would tell your lordship with a great deal of pleasure !" 
 
 " Then we'll save the point, Billy Harris," exclaimed the 
 judge. 
 
 A more modern justice of the Irish king's bench, in giving 
 his dictum on a certain will case, absolutely said, " he thought 
 it very clear that the testator intended to keep a life-interest 
 in the estate to himself." The bar did not laugh outright ; but 
 Curran soon rendered that consequence inevitable. "Very 
 true, my lord," said he, " very true ! testators generally do 
 secure life-interests to themselves. But, in this case I rather 
 think your lordship takes the will for the deed." 
 
 The chief-justices were, however, generally accomplished 
 men, and of first-rate talent as lawyers ; and the chancellors, 
 with few exceptions, both able and dignified — qualities which 
 Lord Lifford was the last to unite in an eminent degree. 
 
 On the subject of judges, I can not omit a few anecdotes of 
 a very different description from the foregoing, which occurred 
 in my own time. 
 
 Baron Power was considered an excellent lawyer, and was 
 altogether one of the most curious characters I have met in the 
 profession. He was a morose, fat fellow, affecting to be gen- 
 teel : he was very learned, very rich, and very ostentatious. 
 Unfortunately for himself, Baron Power held the office of usher 
 
 12* 
 
274 ANECDOTES OF IKISH JUDGES. 
 
 of the court of chancery, which was principally remunerated 
 by fees on moneys lodged in that court. Lord Clare (then 
 chancellor) hated and teazed him, because Power was arro- 
 gant himself, and never would succumb to the arrogance of 
 Fitzgibbon. The chancellor had a certain control over the 
 usher ; at least he had a sort of license for abusing him by inu- 
 endo, as an officer of the court, and most unremittingly did he 
 exercise that license. Baron Power had a large private for- 
 tune, and always acted in office strictly according to the cus- 
 tom of his predecessors ; but was attacked so virulently and 
 pertinaciously by Lord Clare, that having no redress, it made 
 a deep impression, first on his pride, then on his mind, and at 
 length on his intellect. Lord Clare followed up his blow, as 
 was common with him. He made incessant attacks on the 
 baron, who chose rather to break than bend ; and who, unable 
 longer to stand this persecution, determined on a prank of all 
 others the most agreeable to his adversary ! The baron walked 
 quietly down, early one fine morning, to the south wall, which 
 runs into the sea, about two miles from Dublin. There he very 
 deliberately filled his coat-pockets with pebbles ; and having 
 accomplished that business, as deliberately walked into the 
 ocean, which, however, did not retain him long, for his body 
 was thrown ashore with great contempt by the tide. His es- 
 tates devolved upon his nephews, two of the most respectable 
 men of their country ; and the lord-chancellor enjoyed the 
 double gratification of destroying a baron, and recommending 
 a more submissive officer in his place. 
 
 Had the matter ended here, it might not have been so very 
 remarkable ; but the precedent was too respectable and inviting 
 not to be followed by persons who had any particular reasons 
 for desiring strangulation — as a judge drowning himself gave 
 the thing a sort of dignified, legal eclat / It so happened that a 
 Mr. Morgal, then an attorney, residing in Dublin (of large di- 
 mensions, and with shin-bones curved like the segment of a 
 rainbow), had, for good and sufficient reasons, long appeared 
 rather dissatisfied with himself and other people. But as at- 
 torneys were considered much more likely to induce their 
 neighbors to cut their throats than to execute that office upon 
 
CROSBY MOKGAL's SPIRIT OF EMULATION. 275 
 
 themselves, nobody ever suspected Morgal of any intention to 
 shorten his days in a voluntary manner. 
 
 However, it appeared that the signal success of Baron Power 
 had excited in the attorney a great ambition to get rid of his 
 sensibilities by a similar exploit. In compliance with such his 
 impression, he adopted the very same preliminaries as the 
 baron had done ; walked off by the very same road, to the 
 very same spot ; and, having had the advantage of knowing, 
 from the coroner's inquest, that the baron had put pebbles into 
 his pockets with good effect, adopted likewise this judicial pre- 
 cedent, and committed himself in due form into the hands of 
 Father Neptune, who took equal care of him as he had done 
 of the baron ; and, after having suffocated him so completely 
 as to defy the exertions of the Humane Society, sent his body 
 floating ashore, to the full as bloated and buoyant as Baron 
 Power's had been. This gentleman was father to a lady of 
 rank, still living, and whose first husband met a much more 
 disagreeable finale, being shot against his will by his brother-- 
 candidate, Mr. Crosby, at the election of Kerry. She has her- 
 self, however, been singularly fortunate throughout life. 
 
 As a sequel to this little anecdote of Crosby Morgal, it is 
 worth observing that, though I do not recollect any of the at- 
 torneys immediately following his example, four or five of his 
 clients very shortly after started from this world of their own 
 accord, to try, as people then said, if they could any way over- 
 take Crosby, who had left them no conveniences for staying 
 long behind him.* 
 
 * The Irish attorneys had, I believe, then pretty much the same reputa- 
 tion and popularity enjoyed by their tribe throughout the United Kingdom. 
 They have now wisely changed their designation into that of "solicitors." 
 I recollect one anecdote, which will, I think, apply pretty well to the major 
 part of that celebrated profession. Some years ago, a suitor in the court of 
 exchequer complained in person to the chief baron that he was quite "ruin- 
 ated," and could go on no farther! " Then," said Lord Yelverton, "you had 
 better leave the matter to be decided by reference." — "To be sure I will, 
 my lord," said the plaintiff; "I've been now at law thirteen years, and can't 
 get on at all ! I'm willing, please your lordship, to leave it all either to 
 one honest man or two attorneys, whichever your lordship pleases." — "You 
 had better toss up for that," said Lord Yelverton, laughing. Two attorneys 
 were however appointed, and, in less than a year, reported that " they 
 could not agree." Both parties then declared they would leave the matter 
 to a very honest farmer, a neighbor of theirs. They did so, and, in about a 
 
276 ANECDOTES OF IRISH JUDGES. 
 
 Mr. William Johnson (the present Judge Johnson) was the 
 only one of my brother-barristers whose smiles were not agree- 
 able to me when we went circuits together. I liked his frowns 
 extremely, because they were generally very sincere, extremely 
 picturesque, and never niggardly bestowed. But, as my own 
 smiles had the trouble of mounting up from my heart, while he 
 had an assortment ready prepared to take a short cut to his 
 muscles whenever policy required, I found that in this partic- 
 ular we were not equally matched. 
 
 When my friend William was angry, I was sure he was in 
 earnest, and that it would not be over too soon : I therefore 
 considered it as a proper, steady sort of concern. But his par- 
 oxysms of good-humor were occasionally so awkward, that 
 although they were but transitory, I have frequently begged 
 of him to cheer up our society by getting into a little passion ; 
 nay, have sometimes taken the liberty of putting him into one 
 myself, to make him more agreeable. 
 
 Be it remembered, however, that this was before Mr. William 
 Johnson became a judge ; and I can not say what effect an 
 inoculation by Lord Norbury's temperament may have had 
 upon his constitution. But I have frequently told him that 
 either physic or wrangling was indispensably necessary to keep 
 his bile from stagnation ; and I hope my old chum has not suf- 
 fered himself to sink into any morbid state of mental apathy. 
 
 I always promised to give William Johnson a page or two 
 in my " Historic Memoirs of Ireland." Some of his friends 
 have suggested that he would be more appropriately intro- 
 duced into my "Fragments." I will adopt their suggestion 
 without abandoning my own purpose, and, with the best wishes 
 for his celebrity, bequeath him in both works to posterity, 
 which I shall leave to form its own estimate of his merits. 
 
 Though divers curious and memorable anecdotes occur to 
 me of my said friend Judge William Johnson, I do not con- 
 ceive that many of them can be very interesting out of court, 
 particularly after he becomes defunct, which Nature has cer- 
 
 week, came hand-in-hand to the court, thanked his lordship, and told him 
 their neighbor had settled the whole affair square and straight to their en- 
 tire satisfaction. Lord Yelverton used to tell the anecdote with great glee. 
 
 
JUDGE WILLIAM JOHNSON. 277 
 
 tainly set down as a " motion of course." One or two, how- 
 ever, which connect themselves with my egotistical feelings, 
 shall not be omitted. At the same time, I assure him that I 
 by no means approve of our late brother Daly's method of rea- 
 soning, who, on his speaking rather indecorously of Mr. Wil- 
 liam Johnson, in his absence, at the bar-mess on circuit, was 
 tartly and very properly asked by the present Mr. Justice 
 Jebb " why he should say such things of Mr. Johnson behind 
 his back." — "Because," replied Mr. Daly, "I would not hurt 
 his feelings by saying them to his face." 
 
 I often reflect on a most singular circumstance which oc- 
 curred between Johnson and me, as proving the incalculability 
 of what is called in the world " fortune," which, in my mind, 
 can not have a better definition than " the state lottery of na- 
 ture." My friend is the son of a respectable apothecary, in 
 Fishamble street, Dublin, and was called to the bar some few 
 years before me ; but the world being blind as to our respec- 
 tive merits, I got immediately into considerable business, and 
 he, though a much wiser man and a much cleverer lawyer, got 
 none at all. Prosperity, in short, deluged me as it were ; 
 when suddenly I fell ill of a violent fever on circuit, which 
 nearly ended my career. Under these circumstances, John- 
 son acted by me in a most kind and friendly manner, and in- 
 sisted on remaining with me, to the neglect of his own con- 
 cerns. This I would not allow ; but I never forgot the prof- 
 fered kindness, and determined, if ever it came within my 
 power, to repay his civility. 
 
 The next year I was restored to health, and my career of 
 good fortune started afresh, while poor Johnson had still no 
 better luck. He remained assiduous, friendly, and good na- 
 tured to me ; but at the same time he drooped, and told me at 
 Wexford, in a state of despondency, that he was determined 
 to quit the bar and go into orders. I endeavored to dissuade 
 him from this, because I had a presentiment that he would 
 eventually succeed ; and I fairly owned to him that I doubted 
 much if he were mild enough for a parson. 
 
 In about two years after, I was appointed king's counsel. 
 My stuff-gown had been, so far, the most fortunate one of our 
 
278 ANECDOTES OF IRISH JUDGES. 
 
 profession, and Johnson's the least so. I advised him to get a 
 new gown ; and shortly after, in the whim of the moment, 
 fancying there might be some seeds of good luck sticking to 
 the folds of my old stuff after I had quitted it for a silken robe, 
 I despatched a humorous note to Johnson, together with the 
 stuff-gown, as a mark of my gratitude for his attentions, beg- 
 ging he would accept it from a friend and well-wisher, and try 
 if wearing it would be of equal service to him as to me. 
 
 He received my jocose gift very pleasantly, and in good 
 part ; and, laughing at my conceit, put on the gown. But, 
 whatever may become of prepossessions, certain it is that from 
 that period Johnson prospered ; his business gradually grew 
 larger; and, in proportion as it increased, he became what 
 they call in Ireland, high enough to everybody but the attor- 
 neys ; and thus my friend William Johnson trudged on through 
 thick and thin to the parliament-house, into which Lord Cas- 
 tlereagh stuffed him, as he said himself, " to put an end to it." 
 However he kept a clear lookout, and now sits in the place his 
 elder brother, Judge Robert had occupied, who was rather 
 singularly w?yudged for having Cobbettized Lord Redesdale, 
 as will hereafter appear. 
 
 Old Mr. Johnson, the father of these two gentlemen, when 
 upward of sixty, procured a diploma as physician — to make 
 the family genteeler. He was a decent, orderly, good kind of 
 apothecary, and a very respectable, though somewhat ostenta- 
 tious doctor ; and, above all, a good, orthodox, hard-praying 
 protestant. I was much amused one day after dinner at Mr. 
 Hobson's, at Bushy, near Dublin, where the doctor, Curran, 
 myself, and many others were in company. The doctor de- 
 lighted in telling of the successes of his sons, Bob, Bill, Gam, 
 and Tom the attorney, as he termed them ; he was fond of 
 attributing Bob's advancement rather to the goodness of Provi- 
 dence than that of the marquis of Downshire ; and observed, 
 most parentally, that he had brought up his boys, from their 
 very childhood, with " the fear of God always before their 
 eyes." " Ah ! 'twas a fortunate circumstance indeed, doctor," 
 said Curran, "very fortunate indeed — that you frightened 
 them so early." 
 
JUDGE KELLY. 279 
 
 One of the most honorable and humane judges I ever saw 
 upon the Irish bench was the late Justice Kelly, of the com- 
 mon pleas. He acquired professionally a very large fortune, 
 and died at a great age, beloved and regretted by every being 
 who had known him. It was he who tried the cause of Lady 
 
 M , and never did I see him chuckle with pleasure and a 
 
 proper sense of gallantry, more than he did at the verdict in 
 that case. 
 
 He was no common man. Numerous anecdotes have been 
 told of him : many singular ones I myself witnessed ; but none 
 which did not do credit to some just or gentlemanly feeling. 
 He had practised several years in the West Indies; and 
 studying at the temple on his return, was in due season ad- 
 mitted to the Irish bar, to the head of which he rose with 
 universal approbation. 
 
 At the time the Irish insisted on a declaration of their inde- 
 pendence, Judge Kelly had attained the high dignity of prime- 
 sergeant, a law-office not known in England : in Ireland the 
 prime-sergeant had rank and precedence of the attorney and 
 solicitor-general. On the government of Ireland first opposing 
 that declaration of independence, Kelly, from his place in 
 parliament, declared " he should consider it rather a disgrace 
 than an honor to wear the prime-sergeant's gown under a min- 
 istry which resisted the rights of his country!" and imme- 
 diately sent in his resignation, and retired to the rank of a 
 private barrister. 
 
 Among such a people, and in consequence of such conduct, 
 it is useless to attempt describing his popularity. His business 
 rose to an extent beyond his powers. Nobody was satisfied 
 who had not Tom Kelly for his advocate in the courts ; no 
 suitor was content who had not Tom Kelly's opinion as to 
 title : all purchasers of property must have Tom Kelly's sanc- 
 tion for their speculations. In a word, he became both an 
 oracle and a fortuneteller : his court bag grew too heavy for 
 his strength, but he got through every cause gallantly and 
 cheerfully : he was always prepared ; his perseverance never 
 yielded ; his arguments seldom failed ; his spirits never flagged. 
 This enviable old man lived splendidly, yet saved a large 
 
280 ANECDOTES OF IRISH JUDGES. 
 
 fortune. At length, it was found so unpopular to leave him at 
 the bar, that he was first appointed solicitor-general, and then 
 mounted on the bench of the common pleas, where having sat 
 many years, he retired to his beautiful country residence, near 
 Stradbally, Queens county, and lived as a country-gentleman 
 in hospitable magnificence. He married three of his daughters 
 well, pursued his field-sports to his death, and departed this 
 world to the unanimous regret of all who knew him. 
 
 Judge Kelly's only son, while his father yet lived, turned 
 methodist ; got infatuated among devotees and old women ; 
 became a sectarian preacher ! and has, by these ignoble means 
 contrived, as thoroughly as the possession of a large fortune 
 will permit him, to bury once more the family name in that 
 obscurity whence his father had raised it. After Judge Kelly 
 had assumed the bench, the public began to find out that his 
 legal knowledge had been overrated ! his opinions were over- 
 ruled, his advice thought scarce worth having, his deductions 
 esteemed illogical : in short, he lost altogether the character 
 of an infallible lawyer, but had the happiness of thinking he 
 had confirmed his reputation for honor, justice, and integrity. 
 He used to say, laughingly, " So they find out now that I am 
 not a very stanch lawyer : I am heartily glad they did not 
 find it out thirty years ago !" 
 
 He loved the world, and this was only gratitude, for the 
 world loved him; and nobody ever yet enjoyed his existence 
 with more cheerfulness and composure. " Egad !" he used to 
 say, " this world is wheeling round and round quite too fast to 
 please me. For my part I'd rather be a young shoe-boy than 
 an old judge." (Who would not 1 says the author.) He al- 
 ways most candidly admitted his legal mistakes : I recollect 
 my friend William Johnson once pressed him very fiercely to 
 a decision in his favor, and stating as an argument (in his 
 usual peremptory tone to judges he was not afraid of) that 
 there could be no doubt on the point — precedent was impera- 
 tive in the matter, as his lordship had decided the same points 
 the same way twice before. 
 
 "So, Mr. Johnson," said the judge, looking archly — shifting 
 Lis seat somewhat — and shrugging up his right shoulder, " so ! 
 
ARTHUR WOLFE, AFTERWARD BARON KILWARDEN. 281 
 
 because I decided wrong twice, Mr. Johnson, you'd have me 
 do so a third time % No, no, Mr. Johnson ! you must excuse 
 me. I'll decide the other way this bout;" and so he did. 
 
 The anecdotes of his quaint humor are in fact innumerable, 
 and some of his charges quite extraordinary. His profile was 
 very like Edmund Burke's : he had that sharp kind of nose 
 which gives a singular cast to the whole contour; but there 
 was always an appearance of drollery lurking in his counte- 
 nance. No man could more justly boast of carrying about him 
 proofs of nationality, as few ever had the Irish dialect stronger. 
 It was in every word an/l every motion ! Curran used to say 
 he had the brogue in his shoulders. Jf Judge Kelly conceived 
 he had no grounds to be ashamed of his country, she had still 
 less to be ashamed of him. He was calculated to do credit to 
 any land. 
 
 I also had the pleasure of being acquainted with Mr. Arthur 
 Wolfe intimately, afterward Baron Kilwarden and chief justice 
 of Ireland. This gentleman had, previously to his advance- 
 ment, acquired very high eminence as an equity lawyer : he 
 was much my senior at the bar. 
 
 Wolfe had no natural genius, and but scanty general infor- 
 mation : his talents were originally too feeble to raise him by 
 their unassisted efforts into any political importance. Though 
 patronized by the earl of Tyrone, and supported by the Beres- 
 ford aristocracy, his rise was slow and gradual ; and his pro- 
 motion to the office of solicitor-general had been long pre- 
 dicted, not from his ability, but in consequence of his reputation 
 as a good-hearted man and a sound lawyer. 
 
 On the elevation of Mr. John Fitzgibbon to the seals, Mr. 
 Wolfe succeeded him as attorney-general, the parliamentary 
 duties of which office were, however, far beyond the reach of 
 his oratory, and altogether too important for his proportion of 
 intellect ; and hence he had to encounter difficulties which he 
 was unable successfully to surmount. The most gifted mem- 
 bers of his own profession were, in fact, then linked with the 
 first-rate political talents of the Irish nation, to bear down 
 those measures which it had become Mr. Wolfe's imperative 
 official duty to originate or support. 
 
282 ANECDOTES OF IRISH JUDGES. 
 
 In the singular character of Mr. Wolfe, there were strange 
 diversities of manner and of disposition. On first acquaintance 
 he seldom failed to make an unfavorable impression ; but 
 his arrogance was only apparent — his pride innoxious — his 
 haughtiness theoretical. In society, he so whimsically mixed 
 and mingled solemn ostentation with playful frivolity, that 
 the man and the boy, the judge and the jester, were generally 
 alternate. 
 
 Still Kilwarden's heart was right, and his judgment sufficing. 
 In feeling he was quick — in apprehension slow. The union 
 of these qualities engendered a sort of spurious sensibility, 
 which constantly led him to apprehend offence where none 
 was ever intended. He had a constant dread of being thought 
 petulant ; and the excitement produced by this dread became 
 itself the author of that techy irritation which he so much 
 deprecated. Thus, like certain humorous characters on the 
 stage, he frequently worked himself into silly anger by endeav- 
 oring to show that he was perfectly good-tempered. 
 
 Lord Kilwarden, not perceiving the true distinction between 
 pride and dignity, thought he was supporting the appearance 
 of the one, when, in fact, he was only practising the formality 
 of the other : and, after a long intercourse with the world, he 
 every day evinced that he knew any one else's character 
 better than his own. As attorney-general during a most 
 trying era, his moderation, justice, and discretion were not less 
 evident than was his strict adherence to official duties ; and 
 the peculiarities of his manner were merged in the excellence 
 of his more sterling qualities. 
 
 In the celebrated cause of the king against Heavy (in the 
 king's bench), Mr. Curran and I were Heavy's counsel, and 
 afterward moved to set aside the verdict on grounds which 
 we considered to form a most important point, upon legal 
 principles. 
 
 Curran had concluded his speech, and I was stating what I 
 considered to be the law of the case, when Lord Kilwarden, 
 impatient and fidgetty, interrupted me — " God forbid, Mr. 
 Barrington," said he," 1 ' that should be the law !" 
 
 " God forbid, my lord," answered I, " that it should not be 
 the law." 
 
* 
 
 A1ST INVITATION TO DINNER. 283 
 
 " You are rough, sir," exclaimed he. 
 
 " More than one of us have the same infirmity, my lord." 
 
 " I was right, sir," said he. 
 
 " So was I, my lord," returned I, unbendingly. 
 
 He fidgeted again, and looked haughty and sour. I thought 
 he would break out, but he only said, "Go on, sir — go on, 
 sir!" I proceeded: and, while I was speaking, he wrote a 
 note, which was handed to me by the officer : I kept it as 
 affording a curious trait of human character. It ran thus : — 
 
 " Barrington : You are the most impudent fellow I ever met. 
 Come and dine with me this day at six. You will meet some 
 strangers, so I hope you will behave yourself, though I have 
 no reason to expect it ! " K." 
 
 To conclude this sketch — Lord Kilwarden was, in grain, 
 one of the best men I ever knew : but, to be liked, it was 
 necessary he should be known; and the more intimately 
 known, the more apparent were his good qualities. He had 
 not an error, to counterbalance which some merit did not ex- 
 hibit itself. He had no wit, though he thought he said good 
 things : as a specimen of his punning, he used to call Curran 
 " Gooseberry" 
 
 The instability of human affairs was lamentably exemplified 
 in his lordship's catastrophe : his life was prosperous, and 
 deservedly so ; his death cruel and unmerited. There scarcely 
 exists on record a murder more inhuman, or more wanton than 
 that of the chief-justice. 
 
 In 1803, on the evening when the partial but sanguinary 
 insurrection broke out in Dublin (organized by Mr. Emmet), 
 Lord Kilwarden had retired to his country-house near the 
 metropolis, and was tranquilly enjoying the society of his 
 family, when he received an order from government to repair 
 to town on particular business : in fact, the police, the secreta- 
 ries, and all attached to the executive, had continued incredu- 
 lous and supine, and never believed the probability of a rising 
 until it was at the very point of commencing. 
 
 Lord Kilwarden immediately ordered his carriage, and 
 attended only by his nephew (a clergyman), and one of his 
 daughters, proceeded to Dublin without the least suspicion of 
 
284: ANECDOTES OF IRISH JUDGES. 
 
 violence or interruption. His road, however, lay through a 
 wide and long street, wherein the rebels had first assembled, 
 and previously to Lord Kilwarden's arrival, had commenced 
 operations. Before his lordship could conceive, or had time to 
 ask, the cause of this assemblage, he was in the midst of their 
 ranks ; hemmed in on every side by masses of armed ruffians, 
 there was no possibility of retreat ; and without being conscious 
 of a crime, he heard the yells of murder and revenge on every 
 side around him, and perceived that he was lost beyond the 
 power of redemption. 
 
 A general shout ran among the insurgents of " The chief 
 justice ! — The chief justice !" Their crime would have been 
 the same in either case, but it was alleged that they were mis- 
 taken as to the person, conceiving it to be Lord Carleton, who, 
 as justice of the common pleas, had some years before ren- 
 dered himself beyond description obnoxious to the disaffected 
 of Dublin, in consequence of having been the judge who tried 
 and condemned the two Counsellors Sheers, who were executed 
 for treason, and to whom that nobleman had been testamen- 
 tary guardian, by the will of their father. The mob thought 
 only of him, and Lord Kil warden fell a victim to their revenge 
 against Lord Carleton. 
 
 The moment the cry went forth, the carriage was stopped, 
 and the door torn open. The clergyman and Miss Wolfe got 
 out and ran ; the latter was suffered to escape, but the pikemen 
 pursued, and having come up with Mr. Wolfe, mangled and 
 murdered, in a horrid manner, as fine and inoffensive a young 
 gentleman as I ever knew. 
 
 Hundreds of the murderers now surrounded the carriage, 
 ambitious only who should first spill the blood of a chief jus- 
 tice ; a multitude of pikemen at once assailed him, but his 
 wounds proved that he had made many efforts to evade them. 
 His hands were lacerated all over, in the act of resistance ; 
 but, after a long interval of torture, near thirty stabs in various 
 parts of his body, incapacitated him from struggling farther 
 with his destiny. They dragged him into the street ; yet, when 
 conveyed into a house, he was still sensible, and able to speak 
 a few words, but soon after expired, to the great regret of all 
 
ROBERT EMMET ROBERT JOHNSON. 285 
 
 those who knew him well, as I did, and were able to separate 
 his frivolity from his excellent qualities. 
 
 Certain events which arose out of that cruel murder are 
 singular enough. Mr. Emmet, a young gentleman of great 
 abilities, but of nearly frantic enthusiasm, who had been the 
 organ and leader of that partial insurrection, was son to the 
 state physician of Ireland, Doctor Emmet. Some time after 
 the unfortunate event, he was discovered, arrested, tried, and 
 executed. On his trial, Mr. Plunkett was employed to act for 
 the crown, with which he had not before been connected, but 
 was soon after appointed solicitor-general. The circumstances 
 of that trial were printed, and are no novelty, but the result 
 of it was a paper which appeared in Cobbett against Lord 
 Redesclale, and which was considered a libel. It was traced 
 to Judge Robert Johnson, of the common pleas, who was in 
 consequence pursued by the then attorney-general, Mr. O'Gra- 
 dy, as was generally thought by the bar, and as I still think, 
 in a manner contrary to all established principles both of law 
 and justice. The three law courts had the case argued before 
 them ; the judges differed on every point : however, the result 
 was that Judge Johnson, being kidnapped, was taken over to 
 England, and tried before the king's bench at Westminster, for 
 a libel undoubtedly written in Ireland, although published by 
 Cobbet in both countries. He was found guilty, but on the 
 terms of his resigning office, judgment was never called for. 
 As, however, Judge Robert Johnson was one of those members 
 of parliament who had forgotten their patriotism and voted for 
 a union, the government could not in reason abandon him alto- 
 gether. They therefore gave him twelve hundred pounds a 
 year for life; and Robert Johnson, Esq., has lived many 
 years not a bit the worse for Westminster; while his next 
 brother (to whom I have already paid my respects), was- made 
 judge of the common pleas, and rules in his stead. This is 
 the Mr. Robert Johnson who, from his having been inducted 
 into two offices, Curran used to style, on alluding to him in the 
 house of commons, " the learned barrack master." He was a 
 well read entertaining man, extremely acute, an excellent 
 writer, and a trustworthy, agreeable companion. But there 
 
286 THE FIRE-EATERS. 
 
 was something tart in his look and address, and he was neither 
 good natured in his manner nor gentlemanly in his appearance, 
 which circumstances, altogether, combined with his public 
 habits to make him extremely unpopular. He did not affect 
 to be a great pleader, but he would have made a first-rate 
 attorney ; he was very superior to his brother William in every- 
 thing except law and arrogance, in which accomplishments 
 William, when a barrister, certainly was entitled to a pre- 
 eminence which, I believe, none of his contemporaries refused 
 to concede him. 
 
 THE FIRE-EATERS. 
 
 Passion for Duelling in Ireland — Ancient Duel before the Judges and Law Authorities, &c, 
 &c. at the Castle of Dublin — List of Official and Judicial Duellists in Author's Time- 
 Family Weapons Described — The Fire-Eaters' Society — Their Chiefs — Elegant Institu- 
 tion of the Knights of Tara — Description of them — Their Exhibitions and Meetings — 
 The Rules of Duelling and Points of Honor Established by the Fire-Eaters, called the 
 Thirty -six Commandments — Singular Duel between the Author and Mr. Richard Daly, a 
 Remarkable Duellist and Fop — Dnly Hit — Author's Second the Celebrated Balloon Cros- 
 by — His Singular Appearance and Character. 
 
 It may be objected that anecdotes of duelling have more 
 than their due proportion of space in these sketches, and that 
 no writer should publish feats of that nature (if feats they can 
 be called), especially when performed by persons holding 
 grave offices, or by public functionaries. These are very plau- 
 sible, rational observations, and are now anticipated for the 
 purpose of being answered. 
 
 It might be considered a sufficient excuse, that these stories 
 refer to events long past ; that they are amusing, and the more 
 so as being matters of fact (neither romance nor exaggeration), 
 and so various that no two of them are at all similar. But a 
 much better reason can be given; — namely, that there is no 
 other species of detail or anecdote which so clearly brings in 
 illustration before a reader's eye the character, genius, and 
 manners of a country, as that which exemplifies the distin- 
 guishing propensities of its population for successive ages. 
 Much knowledge will necessarily be gained by possessing 
 such a series of anecdotes, and by then going on to trace the 
 
LIST OF OFFICIAL DUELLISTS. 287 
 
 decline of such propensities to the progress of civilization in 
 that class of society where they had been prevalent. 
 
 As to the objection founded on the rank or profession of the 
 parties concerned, it is only necessary to subjoin the following 
 short abstract from a long list of official duellists who "have 
 figured away in my time, and some of them before my eyes. 
 The number of grave personages who appear to have adopted 
 the national taste (though in most instances it was undoubtedly 
 before their elevation to the bench that they signalized them- 
 selves in single combat), removes from me all imputation of 
 pitching upon and exposing any unusual frailty ; and I think 
 I may challenge any country in Europe to show such an as- 
 semblage of gallant judicial and official antagonists at lire and 
 sword as is exhibited even in the following list.* 
 
 The lord chancellor of Ireland, Earl Clare, fought the mas- 
 ter of the rolls, Ourran. 
 
 The chief justice K. B., Lord Olonmell, fought Lord Tyrawly 
 (a privy counsellor), Lord LlandafT, and two others. 
 
 The judge of the county of Dublin, Egan, fought the master 
 of the rolls, Roger Barret, and three others. 
 
 The chancellor of the exchequer, the right honorable Isaac 
 Oorry, fought the right honorable Henry Grattan, a privy coun- 
 sellor, and another. 
 
 A baron of the exchequer, Baron Medge, fought his brother- 
 in-law and two others. 
 
 * Single combat was formerly a very prevalent and favorite mode of ad- 
 ministering justice in Ireland; and, not being considered so brutal as bull- 
 fights, or other beastly amusements of that nature, it was authorized by law, 
 and frequently performed before the high authorities and their ladies; 
 bishops, judges, and other persons of high office, generally honoring the 
 spectacle with their presence. 
 
 The last exhibition of that nature which I have read of, was between two 
 Irish gentlemen ; Connor Mac Cormac O'Connor, and Teige Mac Kilpatrick 
 O'Connor. They fought with broad swords and skeens (large knives) in 
 the castle of Dublin, in the presence of the archbishop and all the chief 
 authorities and ladies of rank. They had hewed each other for a full hour, 
 when Mr. Mac Kilpatrick O'Connor, happening to miss his footing, Mr. Mac 
 Cormac O'Connor began to cut his head off very expertly with his knife, 
 which, after a good deal of cutting, struggling, and hacking, he was at length 
 so fortunate as to effect ; and, having got his head clear off the shoulders, 
 he handed it to the lords justices (who were present), and by whom the 
 head and neck was most graciously received. 
 
288 THE FIRE-EATERS. 
 
 The chief justice C. P., Lord Norbury, fought Fire-eater 
 Fitzgerald, and two other gentlemen, and frightened Napper 
 Tandy and several besides : one hit only. t 
 
 The judge of the prerogative court, Doctor Duigenan, fought 
 one barrister and frightened another on the ground. — N. B. 
 The latter case is a curious one. 
 
 The chief counsel to the revenue, Hemy JXeane Grady, 
 fought Counsellor O'Mahon, Counsellor Campbell, and others ; 
 all hits. 
 
 The master of the rolls fought Lord Buckinghamshire, the 
 chief secretary, &c. 
 
 The provost of the university of Dublin, the right honora- 
 ble Hely Hutchinson, fought Mr. Doyle, master in chan- 
 cery (they went to the plains of Minden to fight), and some 
 others. 
 
 The chief-justice C. P., Patterson, fought three country-gen- 
 tlemen, one of them with swords, another with guns, and wound- 
 ed all of them. 
 
 The right honorable George Ogle, a privy counsellor, fought 
 Barney Coyle, a distiller, because he was a papist. They 
 fired eight shots and no hit ; but the second broke his own arm. 
 
 Thomas Wallace, K. C, fought Mr. O'Gorman, the catholic 
 secretary. 
 
 Counsellor O'Connell fought the Orange chieftain ; fatal to 
 the champion of protestant ascendency. 
 
 The collector of the customs of Dublin, the honorable Francis 
 Hutchinson, fought the right honorable Lord Mountmorris. 
 
 The reader of this dignified list (which, as I have said, is 
 only an abridgment*) will surely see no great indecorum in an 
 admiralty judge having now and then exchanged broadsides, 
 more especially as they did not militate against the law of na- 
 tions. 
 
 However, it must be owned that there were occasionally 
 very peaceable and forgiving instances among the barristers. 
 I saw a very brave king's counsel, Mr. Curran, horse-whipped 
 most severely in the public street, by a very savage nobleman, 
 
 * Two hundred and twenty-seven memorable and official duels have ac- 
 tually been fought during my grand climacteric. 
 
NATIONAL PASSION FOR DUELLING. 289 
 
 Lord Olanmorris ; and another barrister was said to have had 
 his eye saluted by a moist messenger from a gentleman's lip 
 (Mr. May's) in the body of the house of commons. Yet, both 
 those little incivilities were arranged very amicably, in a pri- 
 vate manner, and without the aid of any deadly weapon what- 
 soever, I suppose for variety's sake. But the people of Dublin 
 used to observe, that a judgment came upon Counsellor O'Cal- 
 laghan, for having kept Mr. Ourran quiet in the horse-whipping 
 affair, inasmuch as his own brains were literally scattered 
 about the ground by an attorney very soon after he had turned 
 pacificator. 
 
 In my time, the number of killed and wounded among the 
 bar was very considerable. The other learned professions suf- 
 fered much less. 
 
 It is, in fact, incredible what a singular passion the Irish 
 gentlemen (though in general excellent-tempered fellows) for- 
 merly had for fighting each other and immediately making 
 friends again. A duel was indeed considered a necessary 
 piece of a young man's education, but by no means a ground 
 for future animosity with his opponent. 
 
 One of the most humane men existing, an intimate friend of 
 mine, and at present a prominent public character, but who (as 
 the expression then was) had frequently played both " hilt to 
 hilt," and " muzzle to muzzle," was heard endeavoring to keep 
 a little son of his quiet, who was crying for something : " Come 
 now, do be a good boy ! Come, now," said my friend, " don't 
 cry, and I'll give you a case of nice little pistols to-morrow. 
 Come, now, don't cry, and we'll shoot them all in the morning." — 
 "Yes ! yes ! we'll shoot them all in the morning!" responded 
 the child, drying his little eyes, and delighted at the notion. 
 I have heard the late Sir Charles Ormsby, who affected to be 
 a wit, though at best but a humorist and gourmand, liken the 
 story of my friend and his son to a butcher at Nenagh, who in 
 like manner wanted to keep his son from crying, and effectu- 
 ally stopped his tears by saying — " Come, now, be a good boy 
 — don't cry, and you shall kill a lamb to-morrow! Now won't 
 you be good 1 ?" — " Oh, yes, yes," said the child, sobbing; " fa- 
 ther, is the lamb ready ?" 
 
 13 
 
290 THE FIKE-EATEKS. 
 
 Within my recollection, this national propensity for fighting 
 and slaughtering was nearly universal, originating in the spirit 
 and habits of former times. When men had a glowing ambi- 
 tion to excel in all manner of feats and exercises, they natu- 
 rally conceived that manslaughter, in an honest way (that is 
 not knowing which would be slaughtered), was the most chiv- 
 alrous and gentlemanly of all their accomplishments; and this 
 idea gave rise to an assiduous cultivation of the arts of combat, 
 and dictated the wisest laws for carrying them into execution 
 with regularity and honor. 
 
 About the year 1777, the Fire-eaters were in great repute in 
 Ireland. No young fellow could finish his education till he 
 had exchanged shots with some of his acquaintances. The 
 first two questions always asked as to a young man's respecta- 
 bility and qualifications, particularly when he proposed for a 
 lady-wife, were — "What family is he of?" — "Did he ever 
 blaze V 
 
 Tipperary and Galway were the ablest schools of the duel- 
 ling science. Galway was most scientific at the sword : Tip- 
 perary most practical and prized at the pistol : Mayo not amiss 
 at either : Roscommon and Sligo had many professors and a 
 high reputation in the leaden branch of the pastime. 
 
 When I was at the university, Jemmy Keogh, Buck English, 
 Cosey Harrison, Crowe Ryan, Reddy Long, Amby Bodkin, 
 Squire Falton, Squire Blake, Amby Fitzgerald, and a few oth- 
 ers, were supposed to understand the points of honor better 
 than any men in Ireland, and were constantly referred to. 
 
 In the north, the Fallows and the Fentons were the first 
 hands at it; and most counties could have then boasted their 
 regular point-of-honor men. The present chief-justice of the 
 common pleas was supposed to have understood the thing as 
 well as any gentleman in Ireland. 
 
 In truth, these oracles were in general gentlemen of good 
 connections* and most respectable families, otherwise nobody 
 would fight or consult them. 
 
 * There was an association in the year 1782 (a volunteer corps), which 
 was called the "Independent. Light Horse." They were Dot confined to one 
 district, and none could be admitted but the younger brothers of the most 
 
FAMILY WEAPONS JEMMY KEOGH. 291 
 
 Every family then had a case of hereditary pistols, which 
 descended as an heir-loom, together with a long, silver-hilted 
 sword, for the use of their posterity. Our family pistols, de- 
 nominated pelters, were brass (I believe my second brother has 
 them still). The barrels were very long, and point-blanJcers. 
 They were included in the armory of our ancient castle of Bal- 
 lynakill in the reign of Elizabeth (the stocks, locks, and hair- 
 triggers, were, however, modern), and had descended from fa- 
 ther to son from that period : one of them was named " Sweet- 
 Lips," the other " The Darling." The family rapier was called 
 " Skiver the Pullet" by my grand-uncle, Captain Wheeler Bar- 
 rington, who had fought with it repeatedly, and run through 
 different parts of their persons several Scots officers, who had 
 challenged him all at once for some national reflection. It 
 was a very long, narrow-bladed, straight cut-and-thrust, as 
 sharp as a razor, with a silver hilt, and a guard of buff leather 
 inside it. I kept this rapier as a curiosity for some time ; but 
 it was stolen during my absence at Temple. ' 
 
 I knew Jemmy Keogh extremely well. He was considered 
 in the main a peacemaker, for he did not like to see anybody 
 fight but himself; and it was universally admitted that he 
 never killed any man who did not well deserve it. He was a 
 plausible, although black-looking fellow, with remarkably 
 thick, long eyebrows, closing with a tuft over his nose. He 
 unfortunately killed a cripple in the Phoenix park, which acci- 
 dent did him great mischief. He was land-agent to Bourke 
 of Glinsk, to whom he always officiated as second. 
 
 At length, so many quarrels arose without sufficiently digni- 
 fied provocation, and so many things were considered quarrels 
 of course, which were not. quarrels at all — that the principal 
 fire-eaters of the south saw clearly disrepute was likely to be 
 thrown on both the science and its professors, and thought it 
 
 respectable families. They were all both "hilt and muzzle boys;" and that 
 no member should set himself up as greater than another, every individual of 
 the corps was obliged, on reception, to give his honor that "he could cover 
 his fortune with the crown of his hat." 
 
 Roscommon and Sligo then furnished some of the finest young fellows 
 (fire-eaters) I ever saw. Their spirit and decorum were equally admirable, 
 and their honor and liberality conspicuous on all occasions. 
 
292 THE FIRE-EATERS. 
 
 full time to interfere and arrange matters upon a proper, 
 steady, rational, and moderate footing ; and to regulate the 
 time, place, and other circumstances of duelling, so as to gov- 
 ern all Ireland on one principle — thus establishing a uniform, 
 national code of the lex pvgnandi ; proving, as Hugo Grotius 
 did, that it was for the benefit of all belligerents to adopt the 
 same code and regulations. 
 
 In furtherance of this object, a branch-society had been 
 formed in Dublin, termed the " Knights of Tara," which met 
 once a month at the theatre, Capel street, gave premiums for 
 fencing, and proceeded in the most laudably systematic man- 
 ner. The amount of admission-money was laid out on silver 
 cups, and given to the best fencers as prizes, at quarterly ex- 
 hibitions of pupils and amateurs. 
 
 Fencing with the small-sword is certainly a most beautiful 
 and noble exercise : its acquirement confers a fine, bold, manly 
 carriage, a dignified mien, a firm step, and graceful motion. 
 But, alas ! its practisers are now supplanted by contemptible 
 groups of smirking quadrillers with unweaponed belts, stuffed 
 breasts, and strangled loins! — a set of squeaking dandies, 
 whose sex may be readily mistaken, or, I should rather say, is 
 of no consequence. 
 
 The theatre of the knights of Tara, on these occasions, was 
 always overflowing. The combatants were dressed in close 
 cambric jackets, garnished with ribands, each wearing the fa- 
 vorite color of his fair one ; bunches of ribands also dangled at 
 their knees, and roses adorned their morocco slippers, which 
 had buff soles to prevent noise in their lunges. No masks or 
 visors were used as in these more timorous times ; on the con- 
 trary, every feature was uncovered, and its inflections all visi- 
 ble. The ladies appeared in full morning-dresses, each hand- 
 ing his foil to her champion for the day, and their presence 
 animating the singular exhibition. From the stage-boxes the 
 prizes were likewise handed to the conquerors by the fair ones, 
 accompanied each with a wreath of laurel, and a smile then 
 more valued than a hundred victories ! The tips of the foils 
 were blackened, and therefore instantly betrayed the bits on 
 the cambric jacket, and proclaimed without doubt the success- 
 
THE KNIGHTS OF TAR A. 293 
 
 ful combatant. All was decorum, gallantry, spirit, and good 
 temper. 
 
 The knights of Tara also held a select committee to decide 
 on all actual questions of honor referred to them : to reconcile 
 differences, if possible ; if not, to adjust the terms and continu- 
 ance of single combat. Doubtful points were solved generally 
 on the peaceable side, provided women were not insulted or 
 defamed ; but when that was the case, the knights were obdu- 
 rate, and blood must be seen. They were constituted by bal- 
 lot, something in the manner of the Jockey club, but without 
 the possibility of being dishonorable, or the opportunity of 
 cheating each other. 
 
 This most agreeable and useful association did not last 
 above two or three years. I can not tell why it broke up : I 
 rather think, however, the original fire-eaters thought it frivo- 
 lous, or did not like their own ascendency to be rivalled. It was 
 said that they threatened direct hostilities against the knights ; 
 and I am the more disposed to believe this, because, soon after, 
 a comprehensive code of the laws and points of honor was 
 issued by the southern fire-eaters, with directions that it should 
 be strictly observed by gentlemen throughout the kingdom, 
 and kept in their pistol-cases, that ignorance might never be 
 pleaded. This code was not circulated in print, but very 
 numerous written copies were sent to the different county 
 clubs, &c. 
 
 My father got one for his sons ; and I transcribed most (I 
 believe not all) of it into some blank leaves. These rules 
 brought the whole business of duelling into a focus, and have 
 been much acted upon down to the present day. They called 
 them in Galway " the thirty-six commandments." 
 
 As far as my copy went, they appear to have run as fol- 
 lows : — 
 
 The practice of duelling and points of honor settled at Clon- 
 mell summer assizes, 1777, by the gentlemen-delegates of Tip- 
 perary, Galway, Mayo, Sligo, and Roscommon, and prescribed 
 for general adoption throughout Ireland. 
 
 Rule 1. — The first offence requires the first apology, though 
 the retort may have been more offensive than the insult. Ex- 
 
294: 
 
 THE FIRE-EATEKS. 
 
 ample : A. tells B. lie is impertinent, &c. B. retorts that he 
 lies : yet A. mnst make the first apology, because he gave the 
 first offence, and then (after one fire) B. may explain away the 
 retort by subsequent apology. 
 
 Rule 2. — But if the parties would rather fight on, then, af- 
 ter two shots each (but in no case before) B. may explain first, 
 and A. apologize afterward. 
 
 N. B. The above rules apply to all cases of offences in re- 
 tort not of a stronger class than the example. 
 
 Rule 3. — If a doubt exist who gave the first offence, the 
 decision rests with the seconds : if they won't decide, or can't 
 agree, the matter must proceed to two shots, or to a hit, if the 
 challenger require it. 
 
 Rule 4. — When the lie direct is ihejlrst offence, the aggres- 
 sor must either beg pardon in express terms ; exchange two 
 shots previous to apology ; or three shots followed up by ex- 
 planation ; or fire on till a severe hit be received by one party 
 or the other. 
 
 Rule 5. — As a blow is strictly prohibited under any circum- 
 stances among gentlemen, no verbal apology can be received 
 for such an insult. The alternatives therefore are — the offender 
 handing a cane to the injured party, to be used on his own 
 back, at the same time begging pardon ; firing on until one or 
 both are disabled ; or exchanging three shots, and then asking 
 pardon without the proffer of the cane. 
 
 If swords are used, the parties engage until one is well 
 blooded, disabled, or disarmed ; or until, after receiving a 
 wound, and blood being drawn, the aggressor begs pardon. 
 
 N. B. A disarm is considered the same as a disable. The 
 disarmer may (strictly) break his adversary's sword ; but, if it 
 be the challenger who is disarmed, it is considered as ungener- 
 ous to do so. 
 
 In case the challenged be disarmed and refuses to ask par- 
 don or atone, lie must not be killed, as formerly ; but the chal- 
 lenger may lay his own sword on the aggressor's shoulder, 
 then break the aggressor's sword, and say, '• I spare your life !" 
 The challenged can never revive that quarrel — the challenger 
 may. 
 
THE THIRTY-SIX COMMANDMENTS. 295 
 
 Rule 6. — If A. gives B. the lie, and B. retorts by a blow 
 (being the two greatest offences), no reconciliation can take 
 place till after two discharges each, or a severe hit ; after 
 which, B. may beg A.'s pardon humbly for the blow, and then 
 A may explain simply for the lie ; because a blow is never al- 
 lowable, and the offence of the lie therefore merges in it. (See 
 preceding rules.) 
 
 N. B. Challenges for undivulged causes may be reconciled 
 on the ground, after one shot. An explanation or the slightest 
 hit should be sufficient in such cases, because no personal offence 
 transpired. 
 
 Rule 7. — But no apology can be received, in any case, af- 
 ter the parties have actually taken their ground, without ex- 
 change of fires. 
 
 Rule 8. — In the above case, no challenger is obliged to 
 divulge his cause of challenge (if private) unless required by 
 the challenged so to do before their meeting. 
 
 Rule 9. — All imputations of cheating at play, races, &c, 
 to be considered equivalent to a blow ; but may be reconciled 
 after one shot, on admitting their falsehood, and begging par- 
 don publicly. 
 
 Rule 10. — Any insult to a lady under a gentleman's care 
 or protection, to be considered as, by one degree, a greater 
 offence than if given to the gentleman personally, and to be 
 regulated accordingly. 
 
 Rule 11. — Offences originating or accruing from the sup- 
 port of ladies' reputation, to be considered as less unjustifiable 
 than any others of the same class, and as admitting of slighter 
 apologies by the aggressor : this to be determined by the cir- 
 cumstances of the case, but always favorably to the lady. 
 
 Rule 12. — In simple, unpremeditated rencontres with the 
 small-sword, or couteau-de-chasse, the rule is — first draw, first 
 sheath, unless blood be drawn ; then both sheath, and proceed 
 to investigation. 
 
 Rule 13. — No dumb shooting or firing in the air admissible 
 in any case. The challenger ought not to have challenged 
 without receiving offence ; and the challenged ought, if he gave 
 offence, to have made an apology before he came on the 
 
296 THE FIRE-EATERS. 
 
 ground : therefore, children's play must be dishonorable on one 
 side or the other, and is accordingly prohibited. 
 
 Rule 14. — Seconds to be of equal rank in society with the 
 principals they attend, inasmuch as a second may either choose 
 or chance to become a principal, and equality is indispensable. 
 
 Rule 15. — Challenges are never to be delivered at night, 
 unless the party to be challenged intend leaving the place of 
 offence before morning ; for it is desirable to avoid all hot- 
 headed proceedings. 
 
 Rule 16. — The challenged has the right to choose his own 
 weapon, unless the challenger gives his honor he is no swords- 
 man ; after which, however, he can not decline any second spe- 
 cies of weapon proposed by the challenged. 
 
 Rule 17. — The challenged chooses his ground : the chal- 
 lenger chooses his distance : the seconds fix the time and terms 
 of firing. 
 
 Rule 18. — The seconds load in presence of each other, 
 unless they give their mutual honors they have charged smooth 
 and single, which should be held sufficient. 
 
 Rule 19. — Firing may be regulated — first, by signal; 
 secondly, by word of command; or, thirdly, at pleasure — as 
 may be agreeable to the parties. In the latter case, the parties 
 may fire at their reasonable leisure, but second presents and 
 rests are strictly prohibited. 
 
 Rule 20. — In all cases, a miss-fire is equivalent to a shot, 
 and a snap or a non-cock is to be considered as a miss-fire. 
 
 Rule 21. — Seconds are bound to attempt a reconciliation 
 before the meeting takes place, or after sufficient firing or hits, 
 as specified. 
 
 Rule 22.— Any wound sufficient to agitate the nerves and 
 necessarily make the hand shake, must end the business for 
 that day. 
 
 Rule 23. — If the cause of meeting be of such a nature that 
 no apology or explanation can or will be received, the chal- 
 lenged takes his ground, and calls on the challenger to proceed 
 as he chooses : in such cases, firing at pleasure is the usual 
 practice, but may be varied by agreement. 
 
 Rule 24. — In slight cases, the second hands his principal 
 
ADDITIONAL GALWAY ARTICLES. 297 
 
 but one pistol ; but, in gross cases, two, holding another case 
 ready charged in reserve. 
 
 Rule 25. — Where seconds disagree, and resolve to exchange 
 shots themselves, it must be at the same time and at right-angles 
 with their principals, thus : — 
 
 S 
 
 S 
 
 If with swords, side by side, with five paces interval. 
 
 N. B. — All matters and doubts not herein mentioned, will 
 be explained and cleared up by application to the committee, 
 who meet alternately at Clonmell and Galway, at the quarter 
 sessions, for that purpose. 
 
 Crow Ryan, president ; James Keogh and Amby Bodkin, 
 secretaries. 
 
 ADDITIONAL GALWAY ARTICLES. 
 
 Rule 1. — No party can be allowed to bend his knee or cover 
 his side with his left hand, but may present at any level from 
 the hip to the eye. 
 
 Rule 2. — None can either advance or retreat, if the ground 
 be measured. If no ground be measured, either party may 
 advance at his pleasure, even to touch muzzle ; but neither can 
 advance on his adversary after the fire, unless the adversary 
 steps forward on him. 
 
 N. B. — The seconds on both sides stand responsible for this 
 last rule being strictly observed ; bad cases having accrued from 
 neglecting of it. 
 
 These rules and resolutions of the " fire-eaters" and 
 " knights of Tara," were the more deeply impressed on my 
 mind, from my having run a great chance of losing my life, 
 when a member of the university, in consequence of the strict 
 observance of one of them. A young gentleman of Galway, 
 Mr. Richard Daly, then a templar, had the greatest predilec- 
 tion for single combat of any person (not a society fire-eater) 
 
 1 3* 
 
2 OS THE FIRE-EATERS. 
 
 I ever recollect : lie had fought sixteen duels in the space of 
 two years : three with swords and thirteen with pistols ; yet, 
 with so little skill or so much good fortune, that not a wound 
 worth mentioning occurred in the course of the whole. This 
 gentleman afterward figured for many years as patentee of the 
 theatre royal, Dublin, and had the credit of first introducing 
 that superior woman and actress, Mrs. Jordan, when Miss 
 Francis, on the Dublin boards. 
 
 I was surprised one winter's evening at college, by receiving 
 a written challenge in the nature of an invitation, from Mr. 
 Daly, to fight him early the ensuing morning. I never had 
 spoken a word to him in my life and scarcely of him, and no 
 possible cause of quarrel that I could guess existed between 
 us : however, it being then a decided opinion that a first over- 
 ture of that nature could never be declined, I accepted the invi- 
 tation without any inquiry ; writing, in reply, that as to place, 
 I chose the field of Donnybrook fair as the fittest spot for all 
 sorts of encounters. I had then to look out for a second, and 
 resorted to a person with whom I was very intimate, and who, 
 as he was a curious character, may be worth noticing. He was 
 brother to the unfortunate Sir Edward Crosby, bart., who was 
 murdered by a court-martial at Carlo w, May, 1798. My friend 
 was afterward called " Balloon Crosby," being the first aeronaut 
 who constructed a Hibernian balloon, and ventured to take a 
 journey into the sky from Ireland.* 
 
 Crosby was of immense stature, being above six feet three 
 inches high : he had a comely-looking, fat ruddy face, and was, 
 beyond all comparison, the most ingenious mechanic I ever 
 knew. He had a smattering of all sciences, and there was 
 scarcely an art or a trade of which he had not some practical 
 knowledge. His chambers at college were like a general 
 workshop for all kinds of artisans. He was very good-tem- 
 
 * And a most unfortunate journey it was for the spectators! The ascent 
 was from the duke of Leinster's lawn, Merrion square. The crowds outside 
 were immense, and so many squeezed together and leaned against a thick 
 parapet wall fronting the street, that it yielded to the weight and pressure, 
 find the spectators and parapet wall came tumbling down together a great 
 depth. Several were killed and many disabled, while Crosby sailed quietly 
 over their heads in all human probability, to be drowned before an hour 
 had expired. 
 
SINGULAR DUEL WITH RICHARD DALY. 299 
 
 pered, exceedingly strong, and as brave as a lion, but as dogged 
 as a mule : nothing could change a resolution of his when once 
 made, and nothing could check or resist his perseverance to 
 cany it into execution. He highly approved of my promptness 
 in accepting Daly's invitation, but I told him that I unluckily 
 had no pistols, and did not know where to procure any against 
 the next morning. This puzzled him : but on recollection, he 
 said he had no complete pistols neither ; but he had some old 
 locks, harrels, and stocks, which, as they did not originally belong 
 to each other, he should find it very difficult to make anything 
 of : nevertheless, he would fall to work directly. He kept me 
 up till late at night in his chambers, to help him in filing the 
 old locks and barrels, and endeavoring to patch up two or three 
 of them so as to go off and answer that individual job. Various 
 trials were made : much filing, drilling, and scanning, were 
 necessary. However, by two o'clock in the morning, we had 
 completed three entire pistols, which, though certainly of 
 various lengths, and of the most ludicrous workmanship, struck 
 their fire right well, and that was all we wanted of them — 
 symmetry, as he remarked, being of no great value upon these 
 occasions. 
 
 It was before seven o'clock on the twentieth of March, with 
 a cold wind and a sleety atmosphere, that we set out on foot 
 for the field of Donnybrook fair, after having taken some good 
 chocolate, and a plentiful draught of cherry brandy, to keep 
 the cold wind out. On arriving,, we saw my antagonist and 
 his friend, Jack Patterson, nephew to the chief justice, already 
 on the ground. I shall never forget Daly's figure. He was a 
 very fine-looking young fellow, but with such a squint that it 
 was totally impossible to say what he looked at, except his 
 nose, of which he never lost sight. His dress (they had come 
 in a coach) made me ashamed of my own : he wore a pea-green 
 coat, a large tucker with a diamond brooch stuck in it ; a three 
 cocked hat with a gold buttonloop and tassels, and silk stock- 
 ings ; and a cotteau-de-chasse hung gracefully dangling from his 
 thigh. In fact, he looked as if already standing in a state of 
 triumph, after having vanquished and trampled on his antago- 
 nist. I did not half like his steady position, showy surface, 
 
300 THE FIKE-EATEES. 
 
 and mysterious squint ; and I certainly would rather have ex- 
 changed two shots with his slovenly friend, Jack Patterson, than 
 one with so magnificent and overbearing an adversary. 
 
 My friend Crosby, without any sort of salutation or prologue, 
 immediately cried out " Ground, gentlemen ! ground, ground ! 
 damn measurement!" and placing me on his selected spot, 
 whispered into my ear " Medio tutissimus ibis — never look at 
 the head or heels — hip the maccaroni ! the hip for ever, my 
 boy ! hip, hip !" — when my antagonist's second, advancing 
 and accosting mine, said Mr. Daly could not think of going 
 any farther with the business, that he found it was totally a 
 mistake on his part, originating through misrepresentation, and 
 that he begged to say he was extremely sorry for having given 
 Mr. Barrington and his friend the trouble of coming out, hoping 
 they would excuse it and shake hands with him. To this 
 arrangement, I certainly had no sort of objection ; but Crosby, 
 without hesitation said, " We can not do that yet, sir : I'll shoiv 
 you we can't : (taking a little manuscript book out of his 
 breeches pocket,) there's the rules / — look at that, sir," con- 
 tinued he, " see No. 7 : ' No apology can be received after the 
 parties meet, without a fire? You see, there's the rule," pur- 
 sued Crosby, with infinite self-satisfaction ; " and a young man 
 on his first blood can not break rule, particularly with a gen- 
 tleman so used to the sport as Mr. Daly. Come, gentlemen, 
 proceed ! proceed !" 
 
 Daly appeared much displeased, but took his ground, without 
 speaking a word, about nine paces from me. He presented his 
 pistol instantly, but gave me most gallantly a full front. 
 
 It being, as Crosby said, my first blood, I lost no time, but 
 let fly without a single second of delay, and without taking 
 aim : Daly staggered back two or three steps ; put his hand to 
 his breast; cried, "I'm hit, sir!" and did not fire. Crosby 
 gave me a slap on the back which staggered me, and a squeeze 
 of the hand which nearly crushed my fingers. We got round 
 him : his waistcoat was opened, and a black spot, about the 
 size of a crown piece with a little blood, appeared directly on 
 his breastbone. I was greatly shocked : fortunately, however, 
 the ball had not penetrated ; but his brooch had been broken, 
 
FREQUENCY OF ELECTION DUELS. 301 
 
 and a piece of the setting was sticking fast in the bone. 
 Crosby stamped, cursed the damp powder or underloading, and 
 calmly pulled out the brooch : Daly said not a word ; put his 
 cambric handkerchief doubled to his breast, and bowed. I 
 returned the salute, extremely glad to get out of the scrape, 
 and so we parted without conversation or ceremony ; save that 
 when I expressed my wish to know the cause of his challenging 
 me, Daly replied that he would noiv give no such explanation, 
 and his friend then produced his book of rules, quoting No. 8 : 
 " If a party challenged accepts the challenge without asking 
 the reason of it, the challenger is never bound to divulge it 
 afterward." 
 
 My friend Crosby, as I have mentioned, afterward attempted 
 to go off from Dublin to England in a balloon of his own 
 making, and dropped between Dublin and Holyhead into the 
 sea, but was saved. The poor fellow, however, died far too 
 early in life for the arts and sciences, and for friendship, Avhich 
 he was eminently capable of exciting. I never saw two per- 
 sons in face and figure more alike than Crosby and my friend 
 Daniel O'Connell : but Crosby was the taller by two inches, 
 and it was not so easy to discover that he was an Irishman. 
 
 DUELLING EXTRAORDINARY. 
 
 Frequency of Election Duels — Ludicrous Affair between Frank Skelton and an Exciseman 
 — Frank shoots the Exciseman and runs away — His Curious Reasons — Sir J. Bourke'a 
 Quadrille Duel, with five Hits — Mr. H. D. G . . . y's Remarkable Meeting with Counsellor 
 O'Maher — O'Maher hit — Civil Proposition of G ... y's Second — G ... y's Gallant Let- 
 ter to the Author on his Election for Maryborough — Honorable Barry Yelverton chal- 
 lenged by Nine Officers at once — His Elucidation of the Fire-Eaters' Resolutions — Lord 
 Kilkenny's Memorable Duels and Lawsuits — His Lordship is shot by Mr. Ball, an Attor« 
 ney— The Heir to his Title (the Hon. Somerset Butler) challenges Counsellor Burrowes^ 
 The Latter hit, but his Life saved by some Gingerbread Nuts— Lord Kilkenny's Duel with 
 Counsellor Byrne — The Counsellor wounded. Counsellor Guinness escapes a Ren- 
 contre—Sketch of Counsellor M'Nally— His Duel with the Author — His three Friends ; 
 all afterward hanged — MNally wounded— Bon-Mot of Mr. Harding— The Affair highly 
 Beneficial to M'Nally — His Character, Marriage, and Death — Ancient Mode of fighting 
 Duels— The Lists described— Duel of ColonerBarrington with Squire Gilbert on Horse- 
 back—Both Wounded— Gilbert's Horse killed— Chivalrous Conclusion. 
 
 Our elections were more prolific in duels than any other 
 public meetings: they very seldom originated at a horse- 
 race, cockfight, hunt, or any place of amusement : folks then 
 
302 DUELLING EXrKAOKDINARY. 
 
 had pleasure in view, and " something else to do" than to 
 quarrel : but at all elections, or at assizes, or, in fact, at any- 
 place of business, almost every man, without any very particu- 
 lar or assignable reason, immediately became a violent partisan, 
 and frequently a furious enemy to somebody else ; and gentle- 
 men often got themselves shot before they couldr tell what they 
 were fighting about. 
 
 At an election for Queen's county, between General Walsh 
 and Mr. Warburton, of Garryhinch, about the year 1783, took 
 place the most curious duel of any which have occurred within 
 my recollection. A Mr. Frank Skelton, one of the half- 
 mounted gentlemen described in the early part of this work 
 — a boisterous, joking, fat, young fellow — was prevailed on, 
 much against his grain, to challenge the exciseman of the town 
 for running the but-end of a horsewhip down his throat the 
 night before, while he lay drunk and sleeping with his mouth 
 open. The exciseman insisted that snoring at a dinner-table 
 was a personal offence to every gentleman in company, and 
 would therefore make no apology. 
 
 Frank, though he had been nearly choked, was very reluc- 
 tant to fight ; he said " he was sure to die if he did, as the 
 exciseman could snuff a candle with his pistol-ball ; and as he 
 himself was as big as a hundred dozen of candles, what chance 
 could he have ?" "We told him jocosely to give the exciseman 
 no time to take aim at him, by which means he might, perhaps, 
 hit his adversary first, and thus survive the contest. He 
 seemed somewhat encouraged and consoled by the hint, and 
 most strictly did he adhere to it. 
 
 Hundreds of the town's people went to see the fight on the 
 green of Maryborough. The ground was regularly measured ; 
 and the friends of each party pitched a ragged tent on the 
 green, where whiskey and salt beef were consumed in abun- 
 dance. Skelton having taken his ground, and at the same time 
 two heavy drams from a bottle his foster-brother had brought, 
 appeared quite stout till he saw the balls entering the mouths 
 of the exciseman .' pistols, which shone as bright as silver, and 
 were nearly as long as fusils. This vision made a palpable 
 alteration in Skelton's sentiments : he changed color, and 
 
FRANK SKELTON AND THE EXCISEMAN. 303 
 
 looked about him as if lie wanted some assistance. However, 
 their seconds, who were of the same rank and description, 
 handed to each party his case of pistols, and half-bellowed to 
 them — " Blaze away, boys !" 
 
 Skelton now recollected his instructions, and lost no time : 
 he cocked both his pistols at once ; and as the exciseman was 
 deliberately and most scientifically coming to his " dead level," 
 as he called it, Skelton let fly. 
 
 "Holloa!" said the exciseman, dropping his level, "I'm 
 battered, by Jasus !" 
 
 " The devil's cure to you !" said Skelton, instantly firing his 
 second pistol. 
 
 One of the exciseman's legs then gave way, and down he 
 came on his knee, exclaiming " Holloa ! holloa ! you blood- 
 thirsty villain ! do you want to take my life ?" 
 
 " Why, to be sure I do !" said Skelton. " Ha ! ha ! have I 
 stiffened you, my lad V Wisely judging, however, that if he 
 stayed till the exciseman recovered his legs, he might have a 
 couple of shots to stand, he wheeled about, took to his heels, 
 and got away as fast as possible. The crowd shouted ; but 
 Skelton, like a hare when started, ran the faster for the 
 shouting. 
 
 Jemmy Moffit, his own second, followed, overtook, tripped 
 up his heels, and cursing him for a disgraceful rascal, asked 
 " why he ran away from the exciseman 1" 
 
 " Ough thunther!" said Skelton, with his chastest brogue, 
 " how many holes did the villain want to have drilled into his 
 carcass 1 Would you have me stop to make a riddle of him, 
 Jemmy V 
 
 The second insisted that Skelton should return to the field, 
 to be shot at. He resisted, affirming that he had done all that 
 honor required. The second called him " a coward /" 
 
 " By my sowl," returned he, " my dear Jemmy Moffit, may 
 be so ! you may call me a coward, if you please ; but I did it 
 all for the best." 
 
 " The best ! you blackguard V 
 
 " Yes," said Frank : " sure it's better to be a coward than a 
 corpse / and I must have been either one or t'other of them." 
 
3(M DUELLING EXTRAORDINARY. 
 
 However, he was dragged up to the ground by his second, 
 after agreeing to fight again, if he had another pistol given 
 him. But, luckily for Frank, the last bullet had stuck so fast 
 between the bones of the exciseman's leg that he could not 
 stand. The friends of the latter then proposed to strap him to 
 a tree, that he might be able to shoot Skelton ; but this being 
 positively objected to by Frank, the exciseman was carried 
 home : his first wound was on the side of his thigh, and the 
 second in his right leg ; but neither proved at all dangerous. 
 
 The exciseman, determined on haling Frank as he called it, 
 in his recovery challenged Skelton in his turn. Skelton 
 accepted the challenge, but said he was tould he had a right 
 to choose his own weapons. The exciseman, knowing that 
 such was the law, and that Skelton was no swordsman, and 
 not anticipating any new invention, acquiesced. " Then," said 
 Skelton, " for my weapons, I choose my Jists ; and, by the pow- 
 ers, you gauger, I'll give you such a basting that your nearest 
 relations sha'n't know you." Skelton insisted on his right, and 
 the exciseman not approving of this species of combat, got 
 nothing by his challenge ; the affair dropped, and Skelton 
 triumphed. 
 
 The only modern instance I recollect to have heard of as 
 applicable to No. 25 (refer to the regulations detailed in last 
 sketch), was that of old John Bourke, of Glinsk, and Mr. Amby 
 Bodkin. They fought near Glinsk, and the old family steward 
 and other servants brought out the present Sir John, then a 
 child, and held him upon a man's shoulder, to see papa fight. 
 
 On that occasion, both principals and seconds engaged ; they 
 stood at right angles, ten paces distant, and all began firing 
 together on the signal of a pistol discharged by an umpire. 
 At the first volley, the two principals were touched, though 
 very slightly. The second volley told better; both the 
 seconds, and Amby Bodkin, Esq., staggered out of their places: 
 they were well hit, but no lives lost. It was, according to 
 custom, an election squabble. 
 
 The Galway rule No. 2 was well exemplified in a duel be- 
 tween a friend of mine (the present first counsel the commis- 
 sioners of Ireland), and a Counsellor O'Maher. O'Maher was 
 
H. D. G. AND COUNSELLOR o'MAHER. 305 
 
 the challenger : no ground was measured ; they fired ad libi- 
 tum. G . . . y, never at a loss upon such occasions, took his 
 ground at once, and kept it steadily : O'Maher began his 
 career at a hundred paces distance, advancing obliquely and 
 gradually contracting his circle round his opponent, who con- 
 tinued changing his front by corresponding movements ; both 
 parties now and then aiming, as feints, then taking down their 
 pistols. This pas de deux lasted more than half an hour, as I 
 have been informed ; at length, when the assailant had con- 
 tracted his circle to firing distance, G . . . y cried out, sud- 
 denly and loudly : O'Maher obeyed the signal, and instantly 
 fired : G . . . y returned the shot, and the challenger reeled 
 back Jwrs de combat. 
 
 On the same occasion, Mr. O'Maher's second said to 
 G . . . y's (the famous counsellor Ned Ly sight), " Mr. Ly sight, 
 take care — your pistol is cocked !" — "Well then," said Ly- 
 sight, " cock yours, and let me take a slap at you, as we are 
 idle !" However, this proposition was not acceded to. 
 
 There could not be a greater ga??iecock (the Irish expression) 
 than G . . . y. He was not only spirited himself, but the 
 cause of infusing spirit into others. It will appear, from the 
 following friendly letter which I received from him during my 
 contested election for Maryborough, that Lord Oastlecoote, the 
 returning officer, had a tolerable chance of becoming acquainted 
 with my friend's reporters (the pet-name for hair-triggers), 
 which he was so good as to send me for the occasion. His 
 lordship, however, declined the introduction. 
 
 "Dublin, January, 29, 1800 
 
 " My dear Jonah : I have this moment sent to the mail- 
 coach office two bullet-moulds, not being certain which of them 
 belongs to the reporters : suspecting, however, that you may 
 not have time to melt the lead, I also send half a dozen bul- 
 lets, merely to keep you going while others are preparing. 
 
 " I lament much that my situation and political feeling pre- 
 vent me from seeing you exhibit at Maryborough. 
 
 " Be bold, wicked, steady, sm&fear naught ! Give a line to 
 yours truly, " H. D. G. 
 
 " Jonah Barrington, Esq," 
 
306 DUELLING EXTRAORDINARY. 
 
 My friend Gr . . . y did not get off so well in a little affair 
 which he had in Hyde Park, in the night, on which occasion I 
 was his guardian : a Counsellor Campbell happened to be a 
 better shot than my friend, and the moon had the unpleasant 
 view of his discomfiture : he got what they call a crack ; how- 
 ever, it did not matter much, and in a few days G . . . y was 
 on his legs again. 
 
 There could not be a better elucidation of rule No. 5, of the 
 code of honor, than an anecdote of Barry Yelverton, second 
 son of Lord Avonmore, baron of the exchequer. Barry was 
 rather too odd a fellow to have been accounted at all times 
 perfectly comjws mentis. He was a barrister. In a ballroom 
 on circuit, where the officers of a newly-arrived regiment had 
 come to amuse themselves and set the Munster lasses agog, 
 Barry, having made too many libations, let out his natural dis- 
 like to the military, and most grossly insulted several of the 
 officers; abusing one, treading on the toes of another, jostling 
 a third, and so forth, till he had got through the whole regi- 
 ment. Respect for the women, and they not choosing to com- 
 mit themselves with the black-gowns on the first day of their 
 arrival, induced the insulted parties to content themselves with 
 only requiring Barry's address, and his hour of being s£en the 
 next morning. Barry, with great satisfaction, gave each of 
 them his card, but informed them that sending to him was un- 
 necessary ; that he was his oivn second, and would meet every 
 man of them at eight o'clock next morning, in the ballroom ; 
 concluding by desiring them to bring their swords, as that was 
 always his weapon. Though this was rather a curious ren- 
 dezvous, yet, the challenged having the right to choose his 
 weapon, and the place being apropos, the officers all attended 
 next day punctually, with the surgeon of the regiment, and a 
 due proportion of small-swords, fully expecting that some of 
 his brother-gownsmen would join the rencontre. On their ar- 
 rival, Barry requested to know how many gentlemen had done 
 him the honor of giving him the invitation, and was told their 
 names, amounting to nine. " Very well, gentlemen," said Yel- 
 verton ; " I am well aware I abused some of you, and gave 
 others an offence equivalent to a blow — which latter, being 
 
EXPOUNDING THE TIPPEKAKY RESOLUTIONS. 307 
 
 the greatest insult, we'll dispose of those cases first, and I shall 
 return in a few minutes fully prepared." 
 
 They conceived he had gone for his sword and friends. But 
 Barry soon after returned alone, and resumed thus : " Now, 
 gentlemen, those to each of whom I gave an equivalent to a 
 blow, will please step forward." Four of them accordingly 
 did so, when Barry took from under his coat a bundle of 
 switches, and addressed them as follows : " Gentlemen, per- 
 mit me to have the honor of handing each of you a switch (ac- 
 cording to the rule No. 5, of the Tipperary resolutions), where- 
 with to return the blow, if you feel any particular desire to put 
 that extremity into practice. I fancy, gentlemen, that settles 
 four of you ; and as to the rest, here" (handing one of his cards 
 to each, with " I beg your pardon" written -above his name) — 
 11 that's agreeable to No. 1" (reading the rule). " Now I fancy 
 all your cases are disposed of; and having done my duty ac- 
 cording to the Tipperary resolutions, which I will never swerve 
 from — if, gentlemen, you are not satisfied, I shall be on the 
 bridge to-morrow morning with a case of barking-irons." The 
 officers stared, first at him, then at each other. The honest, 
 jolly countenance and drollery of Barry were quite irresistible. 
 First a smile of surprise, and then a general laugh, took place, 
 and the catastrophe was their asking Barry to dine with them 
 at the mess, where his eccentricity and good humor delighted 
 the whole regiment. The poor fellow grew quite deranged at 
 last, and died, I believe, in rather unpleasant circumstances. 
 
 The late Lord Mount Garret (afterward earl of Kilkenny) 
 had for several years a great number of lawsuits at once on his 
 hands, particularly with some insolvent tenants, whose causes 
 had been gratuitously taken up by Mr. Ball, an attorney, Mr. 
 William Johnson, the barrister, and seven or eight others of 
 the circuit. His lordship was dreadfully tormented. He was 
 naturally a very clever man, and devised a new mode of car- 
 rying on his lawsuits. He engaged a clientless attorney, 
 named Egan, as his working-solicitor, at a very liberal yearly 
 stipend, upon the express terms of his undertaking no other 
 business, and holding his office solely in his lordship's own 
 house, and under his own eye and direction. His lordship ap- 
 
308 DUELLING EXTRAORDINARY. 
 
 plied to Mr. Fletcher (afterward judge) and myself, requesting 
 an interview, upon which he informed us of his situation : that 
 there were generally ten counsel pitted against him, but that 
 he would have much more reliance on the advice and punctual 
 attendance of two steady than of ten straggling gentlemen ; 
 and that under the full conviction that one of us would always 
 attend the courts when his causes were called on, and not 
 leave him in the lurch as he had been left, he had directed his 
 attorneys to mark on our two briefs ten times the amount of 
 fees paid to each on the other side : " Because," said his lord- 
 ship, " if you won't surely attend, I must engage ten counsel 
 as well as my opponents, and perhaps not be attended to after 
 all." The singularity of the proposal set us laughing, in which 
 his lordship joined* 
 
 Fletcher and I accepted the offer, and did most punctually 
 attend his numerous trials — were most liberally feed — but 
 most unsuccessful in our efforts, for we never were able to gain 
 a single cause or verdict for our client. 
 
 The principle of strict justice certainly was with his lord- 
 ship, but certain formalities of the law were decidedly against 
 him. Thus, perceiving himself likely to be foiled, he deter- 
 mined to take another course, quite out of our line, and a 
 course whereby no suit is decided in modern days — namely, 
 to Jight it out, muzzle to muzzle, with the attorney and all the 
 counsel on the other side. 
 
 The first procedure on this determination was a direct chal- 
 lenge from his lordship to the attorney, Mr. Ball. It was ac- 
 cepted, and a duel immediately followed, in which his lordship 
 got the worst of it : he was wounded by the attorney at each 
 shot, the first having taken place in his lordship's right arm, 
 which probably saved the solicitor, as his lordship was a most 
 accurate marksman. The noble challenger received the sec- 
 ond bullet in his side, but the wound was not dangerous. 
 
 My lord and the attorney having been thus disposed of, the 
 Honorable Somerset Butler (his lordship's son) now took the 
 field, and proceeded, according to due form, by a challenge to 
 Mr. Peter Burrowes, the first of the adversaries' counsel, now 
 judge-commissioner of insolvents. The invitation not being 
 
HON. SOMERSET BUTLER AND PETER BTJRROWES. 309 
 
 refused, the combat took place, one cold, frosty morning, near 
 Kilkenny. Somerset knew his business well, but Peter had 
 had no practice whatever in that line of litigation. 
 
 Few persons feel too warm on such occasions, and Peter 
 formed no exception to the general rule. An old woman who 
 sold spiced gingerbread-nuts in the street he passed through 
 accosted him, extolling her nuts to the very skies, as being 
 well spiced, and fit to expel the wind and to warm any gentle- 
 man's stomach as well as a dram. Peter bought a penny's 
 worth on the advice of his second, Dick Waddy, an attorney, 
 and duly receiving the change of a sixpenny piece, but the 
 coppers and nuts into his waistcoat-pocket, and inarched off to 
 the scene of action. 
 
 Preliminaries being soon arranged — the pistols given, ten 
 steps measured, the flints hammered, and the feather-springs 
 set — Somerset, a fine, dashing young fellow, full of spirit, ac- 
 tivity, and animation, gave elderly Peter (who was no posture- 
 master) but little time to take his fighting position : in fact, he 
 had scarcely raised his pistol to a wabbling level, before Som- 
 erset's ball came crack dash against Peter's body ! The half- 
 pence rattled in his pocket ; Peter dropped flat ; Somerset fled ; 
 Dick Waddy roared, "Murder!" and called out to Surgeon 
 Pack. Peter's clothes were ripped up ; and Pack, sccundem 
 artem, examined the wound. A black hole designated the spot 
 where the lead had penetrated Peter's abdomen. The doctor 
 shook his head, and pronounced but one short word, " Mortal /" 
 It was, however, more expressive than a long speech. Peter 
 groaned, and tried to recollect some prayer, if possible, or a 
 scrap of his catechism. His friend Waddy began to think 
 about the coroner ; his brother-barristers sighed heavily, and 
 Peter was supposed to be fast departing this world (but, as 
 they all endeavored to persuade him, for a better) ; when Sur- 
 geon Pack, after another exclamation, taking leave of Peter, 
 and leaning his hand on the grass to assist him in rising, felt 
 something hard, took it up and looked at it curiously. The 
 spectators closed in the circle, to see Peter die ; the patient 
 turned his expiring eyes toward Surgeon Pack, as much as to 
 ask, "Is there no hope?" — when, lo ! the doctor held up to 
 
310 DUELLING EXTRAORDINARY. 
 
 the astonished assembly the identical bullet, which, having lat- 
 tled among the heads, and harps, and gingerbread-nuts, in 
 Peter's waistcoat-pocket, had flattened its own body on the 
 surface of a preserving copper, and left his majesty's bust dis- 
 tinctly imprinted and accurately designated, in black-and-blue 
 shading, on his subject's carcass ! Peter's heart beat high ; 
 he stopped his prayers ; and finding that his gracious sovereign 
 and the gingerbread-nuts had saved his life, lost as little time 
 as possible in rising from the sod on which he had lain ex- 
 tended. A bandage was applied round his body, and in a 
 short time Peter was able (though of course he had no reason 
 to be OYer-willingJ to begin the combat anew. 
 
 His lordship having now, on his part, recovered from the at- 
 torney's wound, considered it high time to recommence hostili- 
 ties according to his original plan of the campaign : and the 
 engagement immediately succeeding was between him and the 
 present Counsellor John Byrne, king's counsel, and next in 
 rotation of his learned adversaries. 
 
 His lordship was much pleased with the spot upon which 
 his son had chosen to hit Counsellor Peter, and resolved to 
 select the same for a hit on Counsellor John. The decision 
 appeared to be judicious ; and, as if the pistol itself could not 
 be ignorant of its direction, and had been gratified at its own 
 previous accuracy and success (for it was the same), it sent a 
 bullet in the identical level, and Counsellor John Byrne's car- 
 cass received a precisely similar compliment with Counsellor 
 Peter Burro wes's — with this difference, that the former had 
 bought no gingerbread-nuts, and the matter consequently ap- 
 peared more serious. I asked him during his illness how he 
 -felt when he received the crack. He answered, just as if he 
 had been punched by the mainmast of a man-of-war ! Cer- 
 tainly a grand simile ; but how far my friend Byrne was ena- 
 bled to form the comparison, he never divulged to me. 
 
 My lord having got through two of them, and his son a third, 
 it became the duty of Captain Pierce Butler (brother to Som- 
 erset) to take his turn in the lists. The barristers now began 
 not much to relish this species of argument; and a gentleman 
 who followed next but one on the list owned fairly to me that 
 
PIERCE BUTLER AND DICKY GWINNESS. 311 
 
 he would rather be on our side of the question : but it was de- 
 termined by our noble client, so soon as the first series of com- 
 bats should be finished, to begin a new one, till he and- Me lads 
 had tried the mettle or " touched the inside" of the remaining 
 barristers. Mr. Dicky Guinness, a little dapper, popular, lisp- 
 ing, jesting pleader, was the next on the list ; and the Honor- 
 able Pierce Butler, his intended slaughterer, was advised, for 
 variety's sake, to put what is called the onus on that little gen- 
 tleman, and thereby force him to become the challenger. 
 
 Dick's friends kindly and candidly informed him that he 
 could have but little chance — the Honorable Pierce being one 
 of the most resolute of a courageous family, and quite an un- 
 deviating marksman ; that he had, besides, a hot, persevering, 
 thirsty spirit, which a little fighting would never satisfy : and 
 as Dicky was secretly informed that he would to a certainty 
 be forced to a battle (it being his turn), and as his speedy dis- 
 solution was nearly as certain, he was recommended to settle 
 all his worldly concerns without delay. 
 
 But it was otherwise decided. Providence took Dick's part ; 
 the Honorable Pierce injudiciously put his onus (aud rather a 
 wicked one) on Dick in open court before the judge. An up- 
 roar ensued, and the Honorable-Pierce hid himself under the 
 table ; however, the sheriff lugged him out, and prevented that 
 encounter effectually — Pierce with great difficulty escaping 
 from incarceration on giving his honor not to meddle with 
 Dicky. At length, his lordship, finding that neither the laws 
 of the land nor those of battle were likely to adjust the affairs 
 to his satisfaction, suffered them to be terminated by the three 
 duels and as many wounds. 
 
 Leonard M'Nally (well known at both the English and Irish 
 bars, and in the dramatic circles as the author of that popular 
 little piece, " Robin Hood," &c.) was one of the strangest fel- 
 lows in the world. His figure was ludicrous : he was very 
 short, and nearly as broad as long ; his legs were of unequal 
 length, and he had a face which no washing could clean : he 
 wanted one thumb, the absence of which gave rise to numer- 
 ous expedients on his part; and he took great care to have no 
 nails, as he regularly ate every morning the growth of the pre- 
 
312 DUELLING EXTRAORDINARY. 
 
 ceding day : lie never wore a glove, lest he should appear to 
 be guilty of affectation in concealing his deformity. When in 
 a hurry, he generally took two thumping steps Avith the short 
 leg, to bring up the space made by the long one ; and the 
 bar, who never missed a favorable opportunity of nicknaming, 
 called him accordingly " One pound tAvo." He possessed, how- 
 ever, a fine eye, and by no means an ugly countenance ; a 
 great deal of middling intellect ; a shrill, full, good bar voice ; 
 great quickness at cross-examination, with sufficient adroitness 
 at defence ; and in Ireland was the very staff and standing 
 dish of the criminal jurisdictions : in a word, M'Nally was a 
 good-natured, hospitable, talented, dirty fellow, and had, by 
 the latter qualification, so disgusted the circuit bar, that they 
 refused to receive him at their mess — a cruelty I set my face 
 against, and every rammer circuit endeavored to vote him into 
 the mess, but always ineffectually ; his neglect of his person, 
 the shrillness of his voice, and his frequenting low company, 
 being assigned as reasons which never could be set aside. 
 
 M'Nally had done something in the great cause of Napper 
 and Dutton, which brought him into still further disrepute with 
 the bar. Anxious to regain his station by some act equalizing 
 him with his brethren, he determined to offend or challenge 
 some of the most respectable members of the profession, who, 
 however, showed no inclination to oblige him in that way. 
 He first tried his hand with Counsellor Henry Deane Grady, 
 a veteran, but who, upon this occasion, refused the combat. 
 M'Nally, who was as intrepid as possible, by no means de- 
 spaired ; he was so obliging as to honor me with the next 
 chance, and in furtherance thereof, on very little provocation, 
 gave me the retort not courteous in the court of king's bench. 
 
 I was well aware of his object ; and, not feeling very com- 
 fortable under the insult, told him (taking out my watch), 
 " M'Nally, you shall meet me in the park in an hour." 
 
 The little fellow's eyes sparkled with pleasure at the invita- 
 tion, and he instantly replied, " In half an hour, if you please ;" 
 comparing, at the same moment, his watch with mine. "I 
 
 hope you won't disappoint me," continued he, " as that 
 
 Grady did!" 
 
«OA-CT^ T.-tT fTTTT? ^ A T T m,T " 
 
 SAVED BY THE GALLOWS. 313 
 
 " Never fear, Mac," answered I ; " there's not a gentleman 
 at the bar but will fight you to-morroiv, provided you live so 
 long, which I can't promise." 
 
 We had no time to spare — so parted, to get ready. The 
 first man I met was Mr. Henry Harding, a huge, wicked, fight- 
 ing, King's-county attorney. I asked him to come out with 
 me. To him it was fine sport. I also summoned Rice Gibbon, 
 a surgeon, who, being the most ostentatious fellow imaginable, 
 brought an immense bag of surgical instruments, &c, from 
 Mercers' hospital. In forty-five minutes we were regularly 
 posted in the middle of the review-ground in the Phoenix park, 
 and the whole scene, to any person not so seriously implicated, 
 must have been irresistibly ludicrous. The sun shone brightly ; 
 and Surgeon Gibbon, to lose no time in case of a hit, spread 
 out all his polished instruments on the grass, glittering in the 
 light on one side of me. My second having stepped nine 
 paces, then stood at the other side, handed me a case of pis- 
 tols, and desired me to "work away, by J s!" M'Nally 
 
 stood before me very like a beer-barrel on its stilling, and by 
 his side were ranged three unfortunate barristers, who were 
 all soon afterward hanged and beheaded for high-treason — 
 namely, John Sheers (who was his second, and had given him 
 his point-blanks J, with Henry Sheers and Bagenal Harvey, 
 who came as amateurs. Both of the latter, I believe, were 
 amicably disposed, but a negotiation could not be admitted, 
 and to it we went. M'Nally presented so coolly, that I could 
 plainly see I had but little chance of being missed, so I thought 
 it best to lose no time on my part. The poor fellow staggered, 
 and cried out, " I am hit !" — and I found some twitch myself 
 at the moment which I could not at the time account for. 
 Never did I experience so miserable a feeling. He had re- 
 ceived my ball directly in the curtain of his side. My doctor 
 rushed at him with the zeal and activity of a dissecting-sur- 
 geon, and in one moment, with a long knife, which he thrust 
 into his waistband, ripped up his clothes, and exposed his 
 naked carcass to the bright sun. 
 
 The ball appeared to have hit the buckle of his gallows 
 (yclept suspenders), by which it had been partially impeded, 
 
 14 
 
314 DUELLING EXTRAORDINARY. 
 
 and had turned round, instead of entering his body. While I 
 was still in dread as to the result, my second, after seeing that 
 he had been so far protected by the suspenders, inhumanly ex- 
 claimed, " By J s, Mac ! you are the only rogue I ever 
 
 knew that was saved by the gallows /" 
 
 On returning home, I found I had not got off quite so well as 
 I thought : the skirt of my coat Avas perforated on both sides, 
 and a scratch just enough to break the skin had taken place 
 on both my thighs. I did not know this while on the ground, 
 but it accounts for the twitch I spoke of. 
 
 My opponent soon recovered ; and after the precedent of be- 
 ing wounded by a king's counsel, no barrister could afterward 
 decently refuse to give him satisfaction. He was, therefore, 
 no longer insulted, and the poor fellow has often told me since 
 that my shot was his salvation. He subsequently got Curran 
 to bring us together at his house, and a more zealous, friendly 
 partisan I never had than M'Nally proved himself on my con- 
 test for the city of Dublin. 
 
 Leonard was a great poetaster ; and having fallen in love 
 with a Miss Janson, daughter to a very rich attorney, of Bed- 
 ford row, London, he wrote on her the celebrated song of " The 
 Lass of Richmond Hill" (her father had a lodge there). She 
 could not withstand this, and returned his flame. This young 
 lady was absolutely beautiful, but quite a slattern in her per- 
 son. She likewise had a turn for versifying, and was therefore 
 altogether well adapted to her lame lover, particularly as she 
 could never spare time from her poetry to wash her hands— ^ a 
 circumstance in which M'Nally was sympathetic. The father, 
 however, notwithstanding all this, refused his consent; and 
 consequently, M'Nally took advantage of his dramatic knowl- 
 edge, by adopting the precedent of Barnaby Brittle, and bribed 
 a barber to lather old Janson's eyes as well as his cJiin, and 
 with something rather sharper too than Windsor soap. Slip- 
 ping out of the room, while her father was getting rid of the 
 lather and the smart, this Sappho, with her limping Phaon, 
 escaped, and were united in the holy bands of matrimony the 
 same evening ; and she continued making and M'Nally cor- 
 recting verses till it pleased God to call them away. This 
 
ANCIENT MODE OF DUELLING CLASSIC GROUND. 315 
 
 curious couple conducted themselves, both generally and tow- 
 ard each other, extremely well after their union. Old Janson 
 partly forgave them, and made some settlement upon their 
 children. 
 
 The ancient mode of duelling in Ireland was generally on 
 horseback. The combatants were to gallop past each other, 
 at a distance marked out by posts, which prevented a nearer 
 approach. They were at liberty to fire at any time from the 
 commencement to the end of their course, but it must be at a 
 hand-gallop. Their pistols were previously charged alike with 
 a certain number of balls, slugs, or whatever else was most 
 convenient, as agreed upon. 
 
 There had been, from time immemorial, a. spot marked out 
 on level ground near the Down of Clapook, Queen's county, 
 on the estate of my grand-uncle, Sir John Byrne, which I have 
 often visited as classic ground. It was beautifully situated, 
 near Stradbally ; and here, according to tradition and legend- 
 ary tales, the old captains and chieftains used to meet and 
 decide their differences. Often did I walk it over, measuring 
 its dimensions step by step. The bounds of it are still palpa- 
 ble, about sixty or seventy steps long, and about thirty or forty 
 wide. Large stones remain on the spot where, I suppose, the 
 posts originally stood to divide the combatants, which posts 
 were about eight or nine yards asunder — being the nearest 
 point from which they were to fire. The time of firing was 
 voluntary, so as it occurred during their course, and, as before 
 stated, in a hand-gallop. If the quarrel was not terminated in 
 one course, the combatants proceeded to a second ; and if it 
 was decided to go on after their pistols had been discharged, 
 they then either finished with short broadswords on horseback, 
 or with small-swords on foot ; but the tradition ran. that when 
 they fought with small-swords, they always adjourned to the 
 rock of Donamese, the ancient fortress of the O'Moors and the 
 princes of Offely. This is the most beautiful of the inland 
 ruins I have seen in Ireland. There, in the centre of the old 
 fort, on a flat green sod, are still visible the deep indentures 
 of the feet, of both principals, who have fought with small 
 rapiers, and their seconds. Every modern visiter naturally 
 
316 DUELLING EXTRAORDINARY. 
 
 stepping into the same marks, the indentures are consequently 
 kept up ; and it is probable that they will be deeper one hun- 
 dred years hence than they were a year ago. 
 
 My grandfather, Colonel Jonah Barrington, of Cullenagh- 
 more, had a great passion for hearing and telling stories as to 
 old events, and particularly as to duels and battles fought in 
 his own neighborhood, or by his relatives ; and as these were 
 just adapted to make impression on a very young, curious 
 mind, like mine, at the moment nearly a carte blanche (the Ara- 
 bian Nights, for instance, read by a child, are never forgotten 
 by him), I remember, as if they were told yesterday, many of 
 his recitals and traditionary tales, particularly those he could 
 himself attest ; and his face bore, to the day of his death, am- 
 ple proof that he had not been idle among the combatants of 
 his own era. The battle I remember best, because I heard it 
 oftenest and through a variety of channels, was one of my 
 grandfather's, about the year 1759. He and a Mr. Gilbert had 
 an irreconcilable grudge : I forget the cause, but I believe it 
 was a very silly one. It increased, however, every day, and 
 the relatives of both parties found it must inevitably end in a 
 combat, which, were it postponed till the sons of each grew up, 
 might be enlarged perhaps from an individual into a regular 
 family engagement. It was therefore thought better that the 
 business should be ended at once : and it was decided that 
 they should tight on horseback, on the green of Maryborough ; 
 that the ground should be one hundred yards of race, and 
 eight of distance ; the weapons of each, two holster-pistols, a 
 broad-bladed but not very long sword (I have often seen my 
 grandfather's), with basket-handle, and a skeen, or long, broad- 
 bladed dagger : the pistols to be charged with one ball and 
 swandrops. 
 
 The entire country, for miles round, attended to see the 
 combat, which had been six months settled and publicly an- 
 nounced, and the county trumpeter, who attended the judges 
 at the assizes, was on the ground. My grandfather's second 
 was a Mr. Lewis Moore, of Cremorgan, whom I well recollect; 
 Gilbert's was one of his own name and family — a captain of 
 cavalry. 
 
DUEL ON HORSEBACK. 317 
 
 All due preliminaries being arranged, the country collected 
 and placed as at a horserace, and the ground kept free by the 
 gamekeepers and huntsmen mounted, the combatants started, 
 and galloped toward each other. Both fired before they 
 reached the nearest spot, and missed. The second course was 
 not so lucky. My grandfather received many of Gilbert's shot 
 full in his face : the swandrops penetrated no deeper than his 
 temple and cheek bones ; the large bullet fortunately passed 
 him. The wounds not being dangerous, only enraged old 
 Jonah Barrington ; and the other being equally willing to 
 continue the conflict, a fierce battle, hand to hand, ensued : 
 but I should think they did not close too nearly, or how could 
 they have escaped with life ? 
 
 My grandfather got three cuts, which he used to exhibit 
 with great glee ; one on the thick of the right arm, a second on 
 his bridlearm, and a third on the inside of the left hand. His 
 hat, which he kept to the day of his death, was also sliced in 
 several places ; but both had iron scullcaps under their hats, 
 which probably saved their brains from remaining upon the 
 green of Maryborough. 
 
 Gilbert had received two pokes from my grandfather on his 
 thigh and his side, but neither dangerous. I fancy he had the 
 best of the battle, being as strong as, and less irritable than, 
 my grandfather, who, I suspect, grew, toward the last, a little 
 ticklish on the subject — for he rushed headlong at Gilbert, 
 and instead of striking at his person, thrust his broadsword 
 5nto the horse's body as often as could, until the beast dropped 
 with his rider underneath him : my grandfather then leaped 
 off his horse, threw away his sword, and putting his skeen, or 
 broad dagger, to the throat of Gilbert, told him to ask his life 
 or die, as he must do either one or the other in half a minute. 
 Gilbert said he would ask his life only upon the terms that, 
 without apology or conversation, they should shake hands 
 heartily and be future friends and companions, and not leave 
 the youths of two old families to revenge their quarrel by 
 slaughtering each other. These terms being quite agreeable 
 to my grandfather, as they breathed good sense, intrepidity, 
 and good heart, he acquiesced ; and from that time they were 
 
318 GEORGE HARTPOLE. 
 
 the most intimately attached and joyous friends and com- 
 panions of the county they resided in. 
 
 My grandfather afterward fought at Clapook, a Mr. Fitz- 
 gerald, who was badly shot. On this occasion, old Gilbert 
 was my grandfather's second : I remember well seeing him ; 
 as I do also the late chief-justice (then sergeant) Pattison, who 
 had come down to Cullenaghmore to visit my grandfather, and, 
 as I afterward discovered, to cheat him. Gilbert brought me 
 a great many sweet things ; and I heard that evening so many 
 stories of fights at Clapook, and on the ridge of Maryborough, 
 that I never forgot them ; and it is curious enough that I have 
 all my life taken the greatest delight in hearing of, or reading 
 about, ancient battles and chivalrous adventures. Nothing 
 amuses me more to this day ; and hence perhaps it is, that I 
 recollect those tales and traditions at the present moment with 
 perfect distinctness and accuracy : my memory seldom fails 
 me in anything, and least of all in recitals such as the fore- 
 going. 
 
 GEORGE HAETPOLE. 
 
 Curious Fatality in the Hartpole Family — Characteristic Sketch of the Last of the Name — 
 Description of Shrewl Castle — The Chapel and Cemetery — Strictures on Epitaph Writing 
 — Eccentricities of Earl of Aldborough — His Lordship proposes his Sister. Lady Sarah 
 Stratford, as Returning Officer for the Borough of Baltinglass — Consequent Disturbances 
 -The North Briton put on his Mettle, but outmanceuvered — '* Lending to the Lord" — 
 Successful Conspiracy to marry Hartpole to the Daughter of a Village-Innkeeper — He is 
 stabbed by his Wife, and deserts Her in consequence — He forms an Attachment to Miss 
 Maria Otway, whom he marries under the Plea of his previous Connection being Illegal 
 — Unfortunate Nature of this Union — Separation of the Parties — Hartpole's Voyage to 
 Portugal, his Return and Death — Sundry other Anecdotes of the Stratford Family. 
 
 In the year 1791, George Hartpole, of Shrewl castle, 
 Queen's county, Ireland, had just come of age. He was the 
 last surviving male of that name, which belonged to a popular 
 family, highly respectable, and long established in the county. 
 Few private gentlemen commenced life with better promise, 
 and better merited esteem and happiness. He was my relative 
 by blood ; and though considerably younger, the most intimate 
 and dearest friend I had. 
 
SINGULAR FATALITY CHARACTERISTIC SKETCH. 319 
 
 His father, Robert, had married a sister of the late and 
 present earls of Aldborough. She was the mother of George; 
 and through this connection originated my intercourse with 
 that eccentric nobleman and his family. 
 
 A singular fatality had attended the Hartpole family from 
 time immemorial. The fathers seldom survived the attainment 
 of the age of twenty-three years by their elder sons, which cir- 
 cumstance gave rise to numerous traditionary tales of sprites 
 and warnings .* 
 
 Robert, as usual with the gentlemen of his day, was the 
 dupe of agents, and the victim of indolence and the spirit of 
 hospitality. He had deposited his consort in the tomb of her 
 fathers, and had continued merrily enjoying the convivialities 
 of the world (principally in the night-time) till his son George 
 had passed his twenty-second year ; and then punctually made 
 way for the succession, leaving George inheritor of a large ter- 
 ritory, a moderate income, a tattered mansion, an embarrassed 
 rent-roll, and a profound ignorance (without the consciousness 
 of it) of business in all departments. 
 
 George, though not at all handsome, had completely the 
 mien and manners of a gentleman. His features accorded well 
 with his address, bespeaking the cordiality of a friend and the 
 ardor of an Irishman. His disposition was mild — his nature 
 brave, generous, and sincere ; yet on some occasions he was 
 obstinate and peevish ; on others somewhat sullen and suspi- 
 cious ; but in his friendships, George Hartpole was immutable. 
 
 His stature was of the middle height, and his figure exhibited 
 no appearance of either personal strength or constitutional 
 vigor ; his slender form and the languid fire of his eye indi- 
 cated excitation without energy; yet his spirits were moder- 
 ately good, and the most careless observer might feel convinced 
 that he had sprung from no ordinary parentage — a circum- 
 stance which then had due influence in Ireland, where agents, 
 
 * The country authorities were very wise, very grave, and very grim, on. 
 this subject; but, after all, I suspect the most natural way of accounting for 
 the fatality alluded to is, that the old gentlemen were commonly among the 
 hardest livers in the country, and consequently, the gout was certain to be 
 their companion, and generally their executioner. 
 
320 GEORGE HAKTPOLE. 
 
 artisans, and attorneys, had not as yet supplanted the ancient 
 nobility and gentry of the country. 
 
 Shrewl Castle, the hereditary residence of the Hartpoles, 
 was in no way distinguishable from the numerous other castel- 
 lated edifices now in a state of dilapidation throughout the 
 whole island — ruins which invariably excite a retrospect of 
 happier times, when the resident landlord, reverenced and 
 beloved, and the cheerful tenant, fostered and protected, felt 
 the natural advantages of their reciprocal attachment ; a reflec- 
 tion which leads us to a sad comparison with modern usages, 
 when the absent lord and the mercenary agent have no con- 
 sideration but the rents, and their collection ; when the de- 
 serted tenantry keep pace in decline with the deserted man- 
 sion ; when the ragged cottager has no master to employ, no 
 guardian to protect him — pining, and sunk in the lowest state 
 of want and wretchedness — sans work, sans food, sans covering, 
 sans everything — he rushes forlorn and desperate into the arms 
 of destruction, which in all its various shapes stands ready to 
 receive him. The reflection is miserable, but true ; such is 
 Ireland since the year 1800. 
 
 Hartpole's family residence, picturesquely seated on a ver- 
 dant bank of the smooth and beautful Barrow, had, during the 
 revolutions of time, entirely lost the character of a fortress : 
 patched and pieced after all the numberless orders of village 
 architecture, it had long resigned the dignity of a castle with- 
 out acquiring the comforts of a mansion ; yet its gradual de- 
 scent, from the stronghold of powerful chieftains to the rude 
 dwelling of an embarrassed gentleman, could be traced even 
 by a superficial observer. Its half-levelled battlements, its 
 solitary and decrepit tower, and its rough and dingy walls 
 (giving it the appearance of a sort of habitable buttress), com- 
 bined to portray the downfall of an ancient family. 
 
 Close bounding the site of this ambiguous heritage was situate 
 the ancient burial-place of the Hartpole family and its follow- 
 ers for ages. Scattered graves — some green, some russet — 
 denoted the recentness or remoteness of the different inter- 
 ments ; and a few broad flagstones, indented with defaced or 
 illegible inscriptions, and covering the remains of the earlj 
 
SIJREWL CASTLE. 321 
 
 masters of the domain, just uplifted their mouldering sides from 
 among weeds and briers, and thus half disclosed the only ob- 
 jects which could render that cemetery interesting. 
 
 One melancholy yew-tree, spreading wide its straggling 
 branches over the tombs of its former lords and the nave of an 
 ancient, chapel (its own hollow trunk proclaiming that it could 
 not long survive), seemed to await, in awful augury, the honor 
 of* expiring with the last scion of its hereditary chieftains. 
 
 To me the view of this melancholy tree always communi- 
 cated a low, feverish sensation, which I could not well account 
 for. It is true I ever disliked to contemplate the residence of 
 the dead :* but that of the Hartpole race, bounding their hall 
 of revelry, seemed to me a check upon all hilarity ; and I never 
 could raise my spirits in any room, or sleep soundly in any 
 chamber, which overlooked that sanctuary. 
 
 The incidents which marked the life of the last owner of 
 Shrewl castle were singular and affecting, and on many points 
 may tend to exhibit an instructive example. Nothing, in fact, 
 is better calculated to influence the conduct of society than the 
 biography of those whose career has been conspicuously marked 
 by either eminent virtues or peculiar events. The instance of 
 George Hartpole may serve to prove, were proof wanting, that 
 matrimony, as it is the most irrevocable, so is it the most pre- 
 carious step in the life of mortals ; and that sensations of pre- 
 sentiment and foreboding (as I have already more than once 
 maintained) are not always visionary. 
 
 I was the most valued friend of this ill-fated young man. 
 To me his whole heart was laid open ; nor was there one im- 
 portant circumstance of his life, one feeling of his mind, con- 
 
 * I never could get over certain disagreeable sensations and awe at the in- 
 terment of any person. So strongly, indeed, have I been impressed in this 
 way, that I formed a resolution, which (with one exception) I have strictly 
 adhered to these forty years — namely, never to attend the funeral even of 
 a relative. I have now and then indulged a whim of strolling over a coun- 
 try churchyard occasionally, to kill time when travelling, in other instances 
 for statistical purposes; but, in general, the intelligible and serious inscrip- 
 tion on the tombstones are so mingled and mixed with others too ridiculous 
 even for the brain of a stonecutter to have devised, that the rational and 
 preposterous, alternately counteracting each other, made a sort of equi- 
 poise ; and I generally left an ordinary churchyard pretty much in the same 
 mood in which I entered it. 
 
 14* 
 
322 GEORGE HAJ2TPOLTC. 
 
 cealed from me. It is now many years since he paid his debt 
 to Nature : and, by her course, I shall not much longer tarry 
 to regret his departure ; but, while my pilgrimage continues, 
 that regret can not be extinguished. 
 
 George had received but a moderate education, far inade- 
 quate to his rank and expectations ; and the country life of his 
 careless father had afforded him too few conveniences for cul- 
 tivating his capacity. His near alliance, however, and inter- 
 course with the Aldborough family, gave him considerable 
 opportunities to counteract, in a better class of society, that 
 tendency to rustic dissipation to which his situation had ex- 
 posed him, and which, at first seductive, soon becomes habitual, 
 and ruinous in every way to youthful morals. 
 
 Whatever were the other eccentricities or failings of Robert, 
 earl of Aldborough (the uncle of Hartpole), the hyperbolical 
 ideas of importance and dignity which he had imbibed, though 
 in many practical instances they rendered him ridiculous, still 
 furnished him with a certain address and air of fashion which 
 put rustic vulgarity out of his society, and combined with a 
 portion of classic learning and modern belles-lettres, never 
 failed to give him an entire ascendency over his ruder neigh- 
 bors. This curious character, in short, formed a living illus- 
 tration of the titlepage of a justly-popular work written by a 
 friend of mine, and called "Highways and Byways" — for he 
 exhibited a pretty equal proportion of ostentation and mean- 
 ness.* 
 
 The most remarkable act of his lordship's life was an experi- 
 ment regarding his sister, Lady Hannah Stratford. The bor- 
 ough of Baltinglass was in the patronage of the Stratford fam- 
 ily ; and on that subject his brothers John and Benjamin never 
 
 * Hartpole, though he despised the empty arrogance of his uncle, yet saw 
 that his lordship knew the world well, and profited by that knowledge. 
 He therefore occasionally paid much attention to some of my lord's worldly 
 lectures ; and had he observed the best of them, though he might possibly 
 have appeared less amiable, he would doubtless have been far more fortu- 
 nate. But Hartpole could not draw the due distinction between the folly 
 of his uncle's ostentation and the utility of his address; disgusted with the 
 one, he did not sufficiently practise the other; and despised the idea of act- 
 ing as if he knew the world, lest he should be considered as affecting to 
 know too much of it. 
 
COUNTENANCE AND PROTECTION. oln 
 
 gave liim a peaceable moment : they always opposed him, and 
 generally succeeded. He was determined, however, to make 
 a new kind of burgomaster or returning-officer, whose adhe- 
 rence he might religiously depend on. He therefore took his 
 sister, Lady Hannah, down to the corporation, and recommend- 
 ed her as a fit and proper returning-officer for the borough of 
 Baltinglass ! Many highly approved of her ladyship, by way 
 of a change, and a double return ensued — a man acting for 
 the brothers, and the lady for the nobleman. This created a 
 great battle. The honorable ladies all got into the thick of it : 
 some of them were well trounced — others gave as good as they 
 received. The affair made a great uproar in Dublin, and in- 
 formations were moved for and obtained against some of the 
 4adies. However, the brothers, as was just, kept the borough, 
 and his lordship never could make any further hand of it. 
 
 The highways of Lord Aldborough, and the byswajs with 
 which he intersected them, are well exhibited by an incident 
 that occurred to him when the country was rather disturbed in 
 1797. He proceeded in great state, with his carriage, outri- 
 ders, <fec, to visit the commanding officer of a regiment of cav- 
 alry which had just arrived in that part of the country. On 
 entering the room, he immediately began by informing the offi- 
 cer that he was the earl of Aldborough, of Belan castle ; that 
 he had the finest parks and fishponds in that neighborhood, 
 and frequently did the military gentlemen the honor of invi- 
 ting them to his dinners ; adding, with what he thought a dig- 
 nified politeness, " I have come from my castle of Belan, where 
 I have all the conveniences and luxuries of life, for the espe- 
 cial purpose of saying, major, that I am glad to see the mili- 
 tary in my county, and have made up my mind to give you, 
 major, my countenance and protection." The major, who hap- 
 pened to be rather a rough soldier, and of a country not famed 
 for the softness of its manners, could scarcely repress his indig- 
 nation at his lordship's arrogant politeness : but when the last 
 sentence was pronounced, he could restrain himself no longer. 
 " Countenance and protection !" repeated he, contemptuously, 
 two or three times; "as for your protection, mister my lord, 
 Major M'Pherson is always able to protect himself; and as 
 
324 GEORGE IIARTl'OLE. 
 
 for your countenance, by Heaven, I would not take it for youi 
 earldom !" 
 
 His lordship withdrew, and the major related the incident 
 as a singular piece of assurance. My lord, however, knew the 
 world too well to let the soldier's answer stick against him 
 Next day he invited every officer of the regiment to dinner, and 
 so civilly, that the major lost all credit with his brother-officers 
 for his surly reply to so hospitable a nobleman ! Nay, it was 
 even whispered among them at mess that the major had actu- 
 ally invented the story, to show off his own wit and indepen- 
 dence — and thus Lord Aldborough obtained complete revenge. 
 
 On another occasion, his lordship got off better still. Being 
 churchwarden of Baltinglass parish, he did not please the rec- 
 tor, Bob Carter, as to his mode of accounting for the money in 
 the poor-boxes. The peer treated Bob (who was as hard-going, 
 good-hearted, devil-may-care a parson, as any in Ireland) with 
 the greatest contempt. The parson, who felt no sort of per- 
 sonal respect for my lord, renewed his insinuations of his lord- 
 ship's false arithmetic, until the latter, highly indignant, grew 
 wroth, and would give Bob no further satisfaction on the mat- 
 ter ; upon which the rector took the only revenge then in his 
 power, by giving out a second charity-sermon, inasmuch as the 
 proceeds of the first had not been duly forthcoming. The hint 
 went abroad, the church was crowded, and, to the infinite amuse- 
 ment of the congregation, Bob put forth as his text — "Who- 
 soever giveth to the poor, lendcth to the Lord." The applica- 
 tion was so clear, that the laugh was irresistible. Bob followed 
 up his blow all through the sermon, and " the Lord" was con- 
 sidered to be completely blown ; but, skilfully enough, he con- 
 trived to give the matter a turn that disconcerted even Bob 
 himself. After the sermon was concluded, his lordship stood up, 
 publicly thanked Bob for his most excellent text and charity- 
 sermon, and declared that he had no doubt the lord-lieutenant 
 or the bishop would very soon promote him, according to his 
 extraordinary merits, which he was ready to vouch in common 
 with the rest of the parishioners ; and finally begged of him to 
 have the sermon printed ! 
 
 Hartpole's fortune on the death of his father was not large ; 
 
VICTIMS OF MISFORTUNE. 325 
 
 but its increase would be great and certain, and this rendered 
 his adoption of any money-making profession or employment 
 unnecessary. He accordingly, on the other hand, purchased 
 a commission in the army, and commenced his entree into a 
 military life and general society with all the advantages of 
 birth, property, manners, and character. 
 
 A cursory observation of the world must convince us of one 
 painful and explicable truth : that there are some men (and 
 frequently the best) who, even from their earliest youth, appeal 
 born to be the victims of undeviating misfortune ; whom Provi- 
 dence seems to have gifted with free agency only to lead them 
 to unhappiness and ruin. Ever disappointed in his most ar- 
 dent hopes — frustrated in his dearest objects — his best inten- 
 tions overthrown — his purest motives calumniated and abused 
 — no rank or station suffices to shelter such an unfortunate : 
 ennui creeps upon his hopeless mind, communicates a listless 
 languor to a sinking constitution, and at length he almost joy- 
 fully surrenders an existence which he finds burdensome even 
 perhaps at its outset.* 
 
 * I can not better illustrate the state of a person so chased by misery, 
 than by quoting a few unpublished lines, the composition of a very young 
 lady, with whom, and with whose amiable family, I have the pleasure of 
 being intimate. 
 
 I am aware that I do her great injustice by quoting these particular verses, 
 some of the most inferior of her writings; but they seem so much to the 
 point, that I venture to risk her displeasure. She is not, indeed, irritable; 
 and I promise to atone for my error by a few further quotations from her 
 superior compositions : — 
 
 "I never sought a day's repose, 
 
 But some sharp thorn soon pierced my breast 
 I never watched the evening's close, 
 
 And hoped a heaven of rest, 
 But soon a darkling cloud would come 
 
 Athwart the prospect bright, 
 And, pale as twilight on a tomb, 
 
 My hopes grew dim in night ! 
 
 n. 
 
 "Oft have I marked the heavenly moon 
 Wandering her pathless way 
 Along the midnight's purple noon, 
 More fair, more loved than day : 
 
326 GEORGE HARTPOLE. 
 
 Such nearly was the lot of the last of the Hartpoles. He 
 had scarcely commenced a flattering entrance into public life, 
 when one false and fatal step, to which he was led in the first 
 place by a dreadful accident, and subsequently by his own 
 benevolent disposition, worked on by the chicanery of others, 
 laid the foundation of all his future miseries. 
 
 While quartered with his regiment at Galway, in Ireland, 
 his gun, on a shooting-party, burst in his hand, which was so 
 shattered, that it was long before his surgeon could decide that 
 amputation might be dispensed with. 
 
 During the protracted period of his indisposition, he was con- 
 fined to his chamber at a small inn, such as Ireland then ex- 
 hibited, and still exhibits, in provincial towns. The host, 
 whose name was Sleven, had two daughters, both of whom as- 
 sisted in the business. The elder, Honor, had long been cele- 
 brated as a vulgar humorist, and the cleverest of all her con- 
 temporaries ; and the bar, on circuits, frequented her father's 
 house purposely to be amused by her witticisms. Her coarse 
 person was well calculated to protect her moral conduct ; but 
 she jested and took her glass with reasonable moderation. Be- 
 sides entertaining the bar, she occasionally amused the judges 
 also ; and Lord Yelverton, the chief baron (who admired wit in 
 anybody), was Honor's greatest partisan. 
 
 But soon she flung her shadowy wreath 
 
 O'er dark eternity, 
 As a faint smile on the cheek of death 
 
 'Twixt hope and agony ! 
 
 m. 
 
 "Even so the mirth of man is madness — 
 His joy as a sepulchral light, 
 Which shows his solitude and sadness, 
 
 But chaseth not the night. 
 
 ****** 
 
 IV. 
 
 " Oft on the rainbow's bloom I've gazed, 
 
 Arched as a gate of heaven, 
 Till gushing showers its portals razed, 
 
 And bathed the brow of even : 
 'Tis thus young hopes illume the sky 
 
 Of life's dark atmosphere ; 
 Yet, like the rainbow's splendid dye, 
 
 They swiftly disappear !" 
 
MARY SLEVEN, THE INNKEEPEIl's DAUGHTER. 327 
 
 Such females ever appeared to me unnatural and disgusting. 
 A humorous and vulgar Amazon, who forgets her own sex, 
 scarcely can expect that ours will recollect it. 
 
 Mary, the younger sister, was of a different appearance and 
 character. She was as mild and unassuming as, from her low 
 occupation and habits of life, could be expected : though des- 
 titute of any kind of talent, yet she appeared as if somewhat 
 better born than Honor, and her attention to her guests was at 
 the same time assiduous and reserved ; which conduct, con- 
 trasted with the masculine effrontery of the other, gave her, in 
 my mind, a great superiority. 
 
 It must have been remarked by every person who has ob- 
 served the habits and manners of provincial towns, that the 
 distinctions of society are frequently suspended by the neces- 
 sary familiarities of a contracted circle, and that inferior 
 females frequently excite (especially among the youthful mili- 
 tary, when such are to be found), sensations of tenderness 
 which in a metropolis would never have been thought of — at 
 least, in the same point of view. And here the evil genius of 
 Hartpole first commenced her incantations for his ruin. 
 
 Throughout George's painful and harassing confinement, the 
 more than assiduous care of Mary Sleven could not escape the 
 observation of the too sensitive convalescent. Hartpole has 
 often described to me the rise and progress of the giddy, ro- 
 mantic feeling which then seized upon him ; how he used to 
 catch her moistened eye watching his interrupted slumbers, or 
 the progress of his recovery ; and when she was conscious of 
 being perceived, how the mantling blush would betray a degree 
 of interest far beyond that of an ordinary attendant. 
 
 Mary was rather well looking ; though there was little to 
 captivate, there was nothing about her to excite his distaste : 
 he was not permitted to have society ; and thus, being left near- 
 ly alone with this young female during many weeks of pain 
 and solitude, and accustomed to the solicitude of a woman (so 
 exquisite to a man in every state of suffering), Hartpole discov- 
 ered in the sequel, that a feeling of gratitude of the highest 
 order had sunk deeper than he wished within his bosom. 
 
 He could not but perceive, indeed, that the girl actually 
 
328 GEOKGE HARTPOLE. 
 
 loved him, and his vanity of course was alive to the disclosure ; 
 but his honorable principles prevented him from taking any 
 advantage of that weakness, which she could not conceal, and 
 whereto he could not be blind. It was in truth a dangerous 
 situation for both. There were, as I have said, no external 
 objects to divert George's mind from this novel sensation ; 
 there was no one to point out its folly or interrupt its progress. 
 Her partiality flattered him in his seclusion, and led his 
 thoughts gradually and imperceptibly into a channel inconsis- 
 tent with the welfare of himself, the honor of his family, and 
 the becoming pride of a gentleman. It was, after all, a sort 
 of nondescript passion ; it certainly was not love. 
 
 Meanwhile the keen masculine understanding of Honor soon 
 perceived the game which it would be wise in her to play, 
 and conceived a project whereby to wind up Hartpole's feel- 
 ings to the pitch she wanted, and insensibly to lead his grati- 
 tude to love, and his love to matrimony. This was Honor's 
 aim, but she overrated her own penetration, and deceived her- 
 self as to Hartpole's character : she overacted her part, and 
 consequently weakened its effect. 
 
 At length, awakened from his vision of romantic gratitude, 
 and beginning to open his eyes to the views of the two women, 
 my friend felt ashamed of his facility, and mustered up suffi- 
 cient resolution to rescue himself from the toils they were 
 spreading for his capture. He had never made any species of 
 proposal to Mary, and she could not, with just or honest hope, 
 look to marriage with a person so greatly her superior. On 
 his perfect recovery, he determined by going over to England, 
 to avoid all their machinations : and he also determined that 
 his departure should be abrupt. 
 
 The keen and rapid eye of the designing Honor, however, 
 soon discovered the secret of his thoughts ; and guessing the 
 extent of his resolution, she artfully impressed upon him (under 
 the affectation of concealing it) the entire attachment of her 
 pining sister, but at the same time communicated Mary's reso- 
 lution to be seen by him no more — since it would be useless 
 farther to distract her devoted heart by cultivating society 
 from which she must so soon be separated for ever. 
 
FEMALE MANOEUVRING. 329 
 
 Here Honor was again mistaken : no melting looks, no soft- 
 ening blandishments, now intervened to oppose George's pride 
 or stagger his resolution. He had only to struggle with him- 
 self; and after a day and night of calm reflection, he fully 
 conquered the dangers of his high-flown gratitude, and de- 
 parted at daybreak from the inn without even desiring to see 
 the lovelorn and secluded Mary. 
 
 The sisters were thus totally disappointed. He had paid 
 munificently for the trouble he had given them, written a let- 
 ter of grateful thanks to Mary, left her a present, and set off to 
 Dublin to take immediate shipping for England. 
 
 Hartpole now congratulated himself on his escape from the 
 sarcasms of the world, the scorn of his family, and his own 
 self-condemnation. He had acted with honor ; he had done 
 nothing wrong ; and he had once more secured that rank in 
 society which he had been in danger of relinquishing. In 
 Dublin he stopped at the Marine hotel, whence the packet was 
 to sail at midnight, and considered himself as on the road to 
 Stratford place, London, which his uncle Lord Aldborough, 
 had built, and where his lordship then resided. 
 
 The time of embarkation had nearly arrived when a loud 
 shriek issued from an adjoining chamber to his, at the hotel. 
 Ever alive to any adventure, Hartpole rushed into the room, 
 and beheld — Mary Sleven ! She was, or affected to be, faint- 
 ing, and was supported by the artful Honor, who hung over 
 her, apparently regardless of all other objects, and bemoaning, 
 in low accents, the miserable fate of her only sister. 
 
 Bewildered by both the nature and suddenness of his ren- 
 contre, Hartpole told me that for a moment he nearly lost his 
 sight — nay, almost his reason ; but he soon saw through the 
 scheme, and mustered up sufficient courage to withdraw with- 
 out explanation. He had, in fact, advanced to the door, and 
 was on the outside step, the boat being ready to receive him, 
 when a second and more violent shriek was heard from the 
 room he had just quitted, accompanied by exclamations of 
 " She's gone ! she's gone !" Hartpole's presence of mind en- 
 tirely forsook him; he retraced his steps, and found Mary 
 lying, as it would seem, quite senseless, in the arms of Honor : 
 
330 GEORGE HARTPOLE. 
 
 his heart relented ; his evil genius profited by the advantage ; 
 and he assisted to restore her. Gradually Mary's eyes opened ; 
 she regarded George wildly but intently, and having caught 
 his eye, closed hers again — a languid, and, as it were an in- 
 voluntary pressure of his hand, conveying to him her sensations. 
 He spoke kindly to her ; she started at the sound, and renewed 
 the pressure with increased force. As she slowly and gradually 
 revived, the scene became more interesting. A medical man 
 being at hand, he ordered her restorative cordials ; Madeira 
 only could at the-moment be procured : she put the glass to 
 her mouth, sipped, looked tenderly at Hartpole, and offered it 
 him; her lips had touched it — he sipped also — the patient 
 smiled : the doctor took a glass ; Hartpole pledged him ; glass 
 followed glass, until George was bewildered ! The artful 
 Honor soon substituted another bottle ; it was Hartpole's first 
 wine after his accident, and quickly mounted to his brain. 
 
 Thus did an hour flit away, and meanwhile, the packet had 
 sailed. Another person affected also to have lost his passage 
 while occupied about the patient, and this turned out to be a 
 catholic priest. Some refreshment was ordered : the doctor 
 and the priest were pressed to stay ; the Madeira was replen- 
 ished : the moments fled ! The young man's brain was in- 
 flamed ; and it is only necessary to add, that the morning's sun 
 rose, not on the happy George, but on the happy Mary, the 
 wedded wife of Hartpole. 
 
 I will not attempt to describe the husband's feelings when 
 morning brought reflection. Every passion met its foe within 
 his bosom : every resolve was overwhelmed by an adverse one ; 
 his sensitive mind became the field of contest for tumultuous 
 emotions ; until, worn out by its own conflicts, it sank into lan- 
 guor and dejection. He had lost himself! he therefore yielded 
 to his fate, abandoned all idea of farther resistance, and was 
 led back in chains by the triumphant sisters. 
 
 His family and connections, however, never would receive 
 her ; and George for awhile, sunk and disgraced, without 
 losing all his attachment for the girl, had lost all his tranquil 
 lity. After two years' struggle, however, between his feelings 
 for her and his aspirations after a more honorable station in 
 
 
FEMALE FURY A SEPARATION. 331 
 
 society, the conspiracy which had effected his ruin, being by 
 chance discovered, arose before his eyes like a spectre, and, as 
 if through a prism the deception appeared in the clearest colors. 
 
 The conflict now became still more keen within his breast ; 
 but, at length his pride and resolution prevailed over his sen- 
 sibility, and he determined (after providing amply for her) to 
 take advantage of that statute which declares null and void 
 all marriages solemnized by a popish priest. He made this 
 determination, but unfortunately, he lingered as to its execu- 
 tion. Her influence meanwhile was not extinguished ; and 
 she succeeded in inducing him to procrastinate from time to 
 time the fatal resolve. She could not, it is true, deny that he 
 had been inveigled, and had made up her own mind, should he 
 stand firm, to accept a liberal provision, and submit to a legal 
 sentence, which indeed could not be resisted. 
 
 As the propriety of Mary's moral conduct had never been 
 called in question, she might, after all, be able to obtain a 
 match more adapted to her station and to everything except 
 her ambition : but the coarse and vulgar Honor miscalculated 
 all. She irritated and wound up Mary almost to madness ; 
 and in this state, her characteristic mildness forsook her, she 
 became jealous of all other women, and hesitated not daily to 
 lavish gross and violent abuse on the passive and wretched 
 Hartpole. 
 
 One morning, in Dublin, where they were residing, he came 
 to my house in a state of trembling perturbation. He showed 
 me a wound on his hand, and another slight one from a knife's 
 point indented on his breast bone. Mary, he said, had, in a 
 paroxysm of rage, attempted to stab him while sitting at break- 
 fast ; he had, with difficulty, wrested the knife from her grasp, 
 and left the house never to return to it. He could in fact, no 
 longer feel safe in her society, and therefore, arranging all his 
 necessary concerns, he repaired to Edinburgh, where his regi- 
 ment was quartered. 
 
 The suit for a decree of nullity was commenced, but no ef- 
 fective proceedings were ever taken, nor any sentence in the 
 cause pronounced, owing to events still more unfortunate to 
 poor Hartpole. 
 
832 GEORGE HARTPOLE. 
 
 Prior to this fatal act of George's, I had never observed an 
 attachment on his part toward any female, save a very tempo- 
 rary one to a young lady in his neighborhood, whom few men 
 could see without strong feelings of admiration ; the second 
 daughter of Mr. Yates, of Moou, a gentleman of the old school, 
 almost antediluvian in his appearance, and of good fortune, in 
 County Kildare. 
 
 ^ Miss Yates's beauty amounted almost to perfection. It was 
 of that nature with which poets, painters, and novelists, have 
 attempted to invest the most favorite of their heroines. It was 
 neither Grecian nor Roman in its symmetry, yet she might have 
 sat for a Madonna, or have been the model for a Venus. But my 
 coloring would be partial, were I not to admit that shades of 
 those frailties and passions, from which the female mind is so 
 seldom exempt, no£ unfrequently betrayed their rapid transits 
 over a countenance more indebted for its expression to sensi- 
 bility than to intellect, and upon which caution seldom im- 
 pressed one moment's control. Still, all her errors appeared 
 amiable : her glance was electric, and a smile never failed to 
 complete her conquest. { Nature seemed to have created her 
 solely to display the blandishments of affection, and her whole 
 frame appeared as if susceptible of being dissolved in love. In J 
 a word, at twenty, Myrtle Yates was wholly irresistible, and v > 
 not a youth of her country, who had a heart, could boast of its 
 insensibility to her charms. Perhaps in truth she owed to the 
 bewildering number of those admirers, the good fortune, if such | 
 it was, of not devoting herself to any. 
 
 Hartpole's attachment to Myrtle Yates was neither deep nor 
 lasting. He considered her too attractive, perhaps too yield- 
 ing ; and had he always adhered to the same principle of 
 judgment, it is possible he might have yet existed. 
 
 / On his return from Scotland, he immediately repaired to 
 Clifton, to get rid, if he might, of a severe cold, which could 
 no longer be neglected, and required medical advice and a 
 balmy air. Here fate threw in the way of this ill-fated youth 
 another lure for this destruction, but such a one as might have 
 entrapped even the most cautious and prudent. Love, in its 
 genuine and national shape, now assailed the breast of the 
 
 
A NEW ATTACHMENT. 333 
 
 ever-sensitive Hartpole, and an attachment grew up fatal to 
 his happiness, and, I think I may add, eventually to his life. 
 
 At Clifton, my friend made the acquaintance of a family, in 
 one of whose members were combined all the attractive quali- 
 ties of youth, loveliness, and amiability, while their possessor 
 at the same time moved in a sphere calculated to gratify the 
 requisitions of a decent pride. Those who saw and knew the 
 object of George's present attachment could feel no surprise at 
 the existence of his passion. 
 
 The unfortunate young man, however, sorely felt that his 
 situation under these new circumstances was even more dread- 
 ful than in the former connection. Loving one woman to ad- , 
 oration, and as yet the acknowledged husband of another, it is 
 not easy to conceive any state more distracting to a man of 
 honor. His agitated mind had now no suspension of its misery, 
 save when lulled into a temporary trance by the very lassitude 
 induced by its own unhappiness. 
 
 He wrote to me, expressing the full extent of his feelings — 
 that is, as fully as pen could convey them. But imperfect in- 
 deed must be all words which attempt to describe intensity of 
 feeling. It was from blots and scratches, and here and theie 
 the dried-up stain of a tear, rather than from words, that I 
 gathered the excess of his mental agony. He required of my 
 friendship to advise him — a task, to the execution of which I 
 was utterly incompetent. All I could properly advise him to, 
 was what I knew he would not comply with ; namely, to come 
 over to Ireland, and endeavor to conquer the influence of his 
 passion, or at least to take no decisive step in divulging it till 
 the law had pronounced its sentence on his existing connec- 
 tion. 
 
 Hartpole had strong feelings of honor as to this latter. For 
 a long time he could scarce reconcile himself to the idea of pub- 
 licly annulling what he had publicly avowed ; and it was only 
 by urging on his consideration the fact, that the ceremony by 
 a popish priest in no case legally constituted a marriage, that 
 he was prevailed on to seek for a public decree of nullity. 
 Such decree was not indeed necessary ; but to have it upon 
 record was judged advisable. Though the incipient proceed- 
 
234 GEORGE HARTPOLE. 
 
 ings had been taken by his proctor, they were not completed, 
 and Mary Sleven's marriage never was formally declared a 
 nullity by the sentence of the ecclesiastical court, nor was she 
 ever technically separated from the deluded Hartpole. 
 
 Under all these circumstances, I was totally bewildered 
 as to what ought to be my friend's future conduct, when I was 
 one morning greatly surprised by the sudden appearance of 
 Hartpole at my breakfast-table, obviously in better health : he 
 looked very superior to what I had expected ; his eye spar- 
 kled, and there was an air of satisfaction diffused both over 
 his features and address which convinced me that some deci- 
 sive step had been taken by him. He lost no time in telling 
 me that he had actually proposed for Miss Otway to her father 
 and mother ; that she herself had consented ; that Mr. and Mrs. 
 Otway had come oyer, to have his fortune investigated, and 
 wished to see me with as little delay as convenient ; and con- 
 cluded by saying that he was most anxious to introduce me to 
 the source of all his terrestrial happiness. 
 
 I could not but start on hearing all this, and declined enter- 
 ing at all in the business with Mr. Otway till George had given 
 me a written license to communicate with him as I pleased. 
 He acceded to all I desired, and the next morning I waited 
 on that gentleman. 
 
 I never felt more embarrassed in my life than at this inter- 
 view. I had in the interim made myself master of Mr. Otway's 
 character, and the knowledge by no means contributed to ease 
 my scruples or diminish my embarrassment. However, to my 
 astonishment, a very short time disposed of both, and in a way 
 which I had conceived impossible. 
 
 I found Colonel Cooke Otway, a strong-minded, steady, 
 peremptory, gentlemanly man, obviously with more head than 
 heart, and with sufficient good sense to appear good-natured ; 
 in short, one of those well-trained persons who affect to be quite 
 off-handed, yet on closer remark, are obviously in reserve. 
 
 He introduced me to Mrs. Otway, whose character required 
 no research. It was ordinary, but amiable : she had evidently 
 great kindness of heart, and her conduct was uniformly re- 
 ported to be such as left nothing to amend either as wife or 
 
SKETCH OF MARIA OTWAY. 335 
 
 mother : she appeared to be in declining health, while her 
 daughter, in the full bloom of youth and first blush of ripening 
 beauty, presented a striking contrast. 
 
 I also read, as far as its hitherto slight development would 
 admit, the character of Maria Otway : I could perceive neither 
 the languor of love nor the restlessness of suspense at all pre- 
 dominant in her feelings. Perfect ease and entire resignation 
 appeared to sit cheerfully on her brow : she seemed to consid- 
 er the wish of her parents as the rule of her destiny ; and it 
 was clearly perceptible that Hartpole had the greater propor- 
 tion of the love at his own disposal. 
 
 Maria united in her appearance, her manners, and her obvi- 
 ous disposition, most of those amiable and engaging traits 
 which the age of eighteen so frequently develop in a female. 
 Her figure, in height rather below the middle stature, had just 
 arrived in that proportionate fullness which forms the just me- 
 dium between the round and slender, and without the defects 
 of either gives the advantages of both. Her limbs, cast in the 
 mould of perfect symmetry, were moved with that ease and 
 moderate activity which constitute the natural grace of female 
 action. Her features small, and not strictly justifying the 
 epithet beautiful, yet formed in their assemblage a blooming 
 and expressive index of the young heart that ruled them ; and 
 the disadvantage of a less prominent profile than should be, 
 was almost disregarded on account of the brilliant delicacy of 
 her complexion. Her blue eyes were untutored ; but her smile 
 was intoxicating, and my friend was bound in the trammels of 
 female witchery. 
 
 In my own judgment, Maria Otway was certainly at that 
 time a very interesting young female : still her beauty, obvi- 
 ously aided by youth, health, and thoughtless happiness, was 
 not of that animated and vigorous cast on which we so often 
 see neither time, care, nor age make quick impression : it was, 
 on the other hand, that soft and delicate loveliness to which 
 years and family are such inveterate and sometimes rapid 
 enemies. 
 
 Over such a man as Hartpole, the victory of Miss Otway's 
 beauty was complete, and the result of that unfortunate pas- 
 
336 GEOKGE HAKTPOLE. 
 
 sion convinces me that a man (unless his judgment be superior 
 to his sensibility) can not commit an act of greater folly than 
 to encourage an attachment to any woman whom he thinks 
 everybody else must admire as well as himself. George at 
 first was inclined to resist his passion, but he did not jiy 
 from the cause of it, and he therefore fell a victim to romantic 
 love as he had before done .to romantic gratitude. 
 
 Mr. Otway at once opened the business, and told me Hart- 
 pole had referred him to me for a statement of his estates and 
 financial situation. On this point I had come fully prepared. 
 Hartpole's circumstances exceeded rather than fell below Mr. 
 Otway's expectation. 
 
 " I am quite satisfied, my dear sir," said he to me, with a 
 significant nod ; " you know that in Ireland we always make a 
 small allowance for a Stratford connection." 
 
 I now found my embarrassment recommence, but determined, 
 at every risk, to free myself from all future responsibility or 
 reproach : I therefore informed Col. Otway explicitly of Hart- 
 pole's marriage, and that no sentence had as yet been pro- 
 nounced to declare that marriage a nullity, though in point of 
 law it was so. 
 
 Having heard me throughout with the greatest complacency, 
 he took me by the hand : — " My dear sir," said he with a 
 smile which at first surprised me, " I am happy to tell you that 
 I was fully apprized, before I came to Ireland, of every cir- 
 cumstance you have related to me as to that woman, and had 
 taken the opinions of several eminent practitioners on the 
 point, each of whom gave, without any hesitation, exactly the 
 same opinion you have done : my mind was, therefore, easy 
 and made up on that subject before I left England, and I do 
 not consider the circumstance any impediment to the present 
 negotiation." 
 
 It is not easy to describe the relief thus afforded me ; though, 
 at the same time, I must own I was somewhat astonished at 
 this seeming nonchalance. We parted in excellent humor with 
 each other. 
 
 The negotiation went on : Miss Sleven was no more re- 
 garded ; and after a deal of discussion, but no difference of 
 
MARRIAGE PRELIMINARIES. 337 
 
 opinion, all the terms were agreed upon, and the settlements 
 prepared, for a marriage, in all its results as unfortunate for 
 the young people, and as culpable in the old, as any that ever 
 came within my recollection. 
 
 A circumstance of singular and not very auspicious nature oc- 
 curred on the first step toward the completion of that ill-starred 
 alliance. It was necessary to procure a license from the pre- 
 rogative court for the solemnization of the marriage in the city 
 of Dublin, and Hartpole's uncle, the Honorable Benjamin 
 O'Neil Stratford (now earl of Aldborough) attend with George 
 upon Doctor Duigenan, then judge of the prerogative, for that 
 purpose. 
 
 The doctor (who when irritated was the most outrageous 
 judge that ever presided in a civil law court) was on the 
 bench officiating, upon their arrival. Benjamin conceived that 
 his rank and intimacy with the doctor would have procured 
 him at least common civility, but in this he was egregiously 
 mistaken. 
 
 Benjamin O'Neil Stratford, who attended his nephew on that 
 dangerous expedition, was endowed with several good-natured 
 qualities, but, as folks said rather inclined to the pleasures of 
 litigation. In every family which is not very popular, there is 
 always one, of whom people in general say, " Oh ! he is the 
 best of them :" and this was Benjamin's reputation in the Strat- 
 ford family.* 
 
 *The noble earl had then also the appellation of "Blind Ben," which had 
 been conferred on him by the witty Lady Aldborough, and which ought not 
 to have been by any means considered derogatory, inasmuch as his name is 
 certainly Benjamin, and one of his eyes was actually out ; and as the abrupt 
 mode of its quitting his lordship's head was rather humorous, it may be 
 amusing to mention it. 
 
 He had once, as he thought, the honor of killing a crane. Benjamin's 
 evil genius, however, maliciously scattered the shot, and the crane had only 
 been what they call in Ireland kilt ; but feeling pretty sure that her death 
 was determined on, she resolved to die heroically, and not unrevenged. She 
 fell, and lying motionless, seduced her assassin to come and wring her head 
 off, according to the usual rules and practices of humanity. The honorable 
 sportsman approached triumphantly, and stooping to seize the spolia opima, 
 Madame Crane, having as good eyes of her own as the one that took aim at 
 her, in return for his compliment, darted her long bill plump into the head 
 of the honorable Benjamin O'Neil Stratford, entering through the very same 
 window which he had closed the shutters of, to take his aim. She, in fact, 
 
 15 
 
338 GEOBGB HAKTPOLE. 
 
 On their arrival in the presence of the doctor, who pretended 
 never to know anybody in court, he asked, " who those people 
 were," and on being informed, proceeded to inquire what 
 business brought them there. 
 
 The honorable Benjamin answered that, "he wanted a mar- 
 riage license for his nephew, George Hartpole, of Shrewl 
 castle, Esq,, and Miss Maria Otway, of Castle Otway, County 
 Tipperary." 
 
 /He had scarcely pronounced the words, when the doctor, 
 rising with the utmost vehemence, roared out, " George Hart- 
 pole ! George Hartpole ! is that the rascal who has another 
 wife living 1 ?" 
 
 George, struck motionless, shrank within himself; but Ben- 
 jamin, not being so easily frightened, said something equally 
 warm, whereupon the doctor, without farther ceremony, rushed 
 at him, seized him by the collar, and cried, " Do you want me 
 to countenance bigamy, you villains V at the same time roar- 
 ing to his crier and servants to " turn the fellows out !" which 
 order, if not literally, was virtually performed, and the peti- 
 tioners for a license congratulated themselves upon their provi- 
 dential escape from so outrageous a judge of prerogative. 
 
 The fact was, the suit of nullity had been actually com- 
 menced in the court, but not having been proceeded on, the 
 judge only knew Hartpole as a married man upon record, and 
 it certainly could not appear very correct of the honorable 
 Benjamin to apply to the same judge who was to try the 
 validity of the first marriage, to grant his license for the solem- 
 nization of a second while the first remained undecided. On 
 Hartpole's mind the circumstance made an indelible impres- 
 
 turned the honorable gentleman's eye clean out of its natural residence; 
 and being thus fully gratified by extinguishing the light in one of her 
 enemy's lanterns, she resigned her body to be plucked, stuffed, and roasted, 
 in the usual manner, as was performed accordingly. Thus, though her 
 slayer was writhing in agony, his family was fully revenged by feasting on 
 his tormentor. Daily consultations were held to ascertain whether her long 
 rapier had not actually penetrated the brain of the honorable Benjamin. 
 One of the tenants being heard to say, in a most untenant-like manner, that 
 it might in such case be all for the best, was asked his reason for so unduti- 
 ful an expression ; and replied, that if she had just pricked his honor's 
 brain, may be it might have let out the humors therein, which would have 
 done no harm either to his honor or to Baltinglass. 
 
MARRIED TO MARIA OTWAY. 339 
 
 sion, and he never afterward took any farther proceedings in 
 the cause then instituted. 
 
 Hartpole returned to me and recounted the adventure, 
 affecting to treat it as a jest against his uncle. But it was a 
 vain disguise ; although by struggling sharply with his feelings, 
 he in some degree overcame them. 
 
 But what was now to be done, since no license could be 
 obtained in Dublin 1 A general consultation was held ; Mr. 
 Otway (still singularly to me) appeared to regard the circum- 
 stance as a mere bagatelle. I thought far otherwise ; and it 
 was so deeply engraven on Hartpole's mind that he mentioned 
 ij; to me not three days previously to his dissolution, as having 
 foreboded all his subsequent misfortunes. 
 
 It was at length agreed upon that he should be married in 
 the diocess of Kildare, by a license from the bishop's surrogate 
 there. This was in effect accomplished. I was not present at 
 the ceremony ; after which, the parties pursued their journey 
 to Castle Otway, where, in the midst of everything that was 
 desirable on earth, Hartpole commenced the trial of his new 
 connection. 
 
 Spite of these apparent advantages, however, my friend soon 
 began either to find or conjure up new and dangerous sources 
 of uneasiness. He continued some months at Castle Otway, 
 listless and devoured by ennui, he pined for a change of scene, 
 and longed to return to his hereditary domain. His health, 
 too, steadily, although slowly declined ; yet he took no medi- 
 cal advice ; the remote symptoms of consumption began to 
 exhibit themselves, and the effects of care upon a constitution 
 naturally irritable favored their development. But, amidst 
 all this, he fancied for a while that he possessed everything he 
 could wish for ; his wife daily improved in her person, her 
 manners were delightful, her conduct unexceptionable. 
 
 Maria was adored by her parents, but adored to a degree 
 that tended eventually to create her misery : the thought of 
 separating from them was to her almost unbearable ; she durst 
 scarcely look at such an event with firmness. Her reluctance 
 could not be concealed from the sharp eye of her uneasy hus- 
 band. Every mark of affection lavished by her on her parents, 
 
340 GEORGE HARTPOLE. 
 
 he considered as if filched from him. He thought her heart 
 should have no room for any attachments but to himself, whereas 
 it had been wholly preoccupied by filial tenderness, that true 
 passion of nature. In a word, she had never loved Hartpole, 
 for whom she felt no other than a neutral species of attach- 
 ment. Neither her mind nor her person had arrived at their 
 full maturity, when she was called upon to love ; and under 
 such circumstances, she really evinced more affection for her 
 husband than I supposed she would do, but far less than he 
 expected. 
 
 At length it was agreed that they should come, on a visit, to 
 my house in Dublin for some time, and that her mother should 
 afterward stay with her at Shrewl castle till Maria was grad- 
 ually reconciled to the dreaded change, and to final residence 
 with a man whom I believed she early discovered was not 
 exactly calculated to make her happy. The story of Mary 
 Sleven, I believe, she had not heard ; if she had, I am pretty 
 sure she never would have left the protection of her father. 
 
 When Hartpole arrived at my house, I soon perceived that 
 my gloomy auguries had been too well grounded. I found his 
 mind bewildered ; he received no enjoyment from reading ; his 
 health did not permit strong exercise ; he took no pleasure in 
 neAv and strange society, but on the contrary, pined for his own 
 home, his free associates, his steward, his tenants, his colliers, 
 and above all for a passive, fond companion, who should have 
 no wish but her husband's. 
 
 Now, none of these things were to Maria's taste, and she 
 yielded to the inroads of discontent, as I think, unreasonably : 
 still, this feeling never showed itself with offensive prominence. 
 She gave way to every desire expressed by her husband, but 
 her acquiescence seemed to me like that of a victim. I have 
 often noticed that, even while she intimated her obedience, 
 her averted eye betrayed a rebel tear, and she only awaited 
 the moment when it might gush out with safety, and relieve 
 her. 
 
 I perceived that, unless some step was taken to occupy 
 George's mind, a residence at Shrewl castle would surely pro- 
 claim to the world both his folly and his ruin. I therefore 
 
APPOINTED HIGH-SHERIFF JEALOUSY. 341 
 
 applied to Mr. Pelham, then secretary in Ireland, to procure 
 Hartpole promotion to the office of high-sheriff for Queen's 
 county for the ensuing year, 1794. My application was imme- 
 diately conceded. I also took out for him a commission of the 
 peace. Meantime his old castle was in part newly furnished, 
 and I was happy to see that he felt a sort of gratification-in 
 the appointment of sheriff; and though in a state of health 
 badly calculated to execute the duties of such an office, the 
 occupation of his mind would, I hoped, make ample amends 
 for his necessary personal exertions. If that year had passed 
 favorably, it was my intention to have recommended a tour to 
 some foreign country, where change of climate and of scene 
 might tend to restore my friend's health, to amuse his mind, 
 and perhaps to make a desirable alteration in the feelings both 
 of himself and his wife : but Heaven decreed otherwise. 
 
 While on their visit at my house, I perceived, in Hartpole's 
 disposition, among other traits which so close a communion 
 could scarcely fail to develop, one which I had never before 
 suspected in him — and calculated to prove the certain and 
 permanent source of unhappiness. Jealousy is of all others 
 the most terrible of human passions. When once it fixes its 
 roots in a hasty, sanguine nature, it becomes master of every 
 action and every word ; and reason, justice, and humanity, all 
 fly before it ! When it pervades a less ardent spirit, impetu- 
 osity is bridled ; but the desire of revenge is no less powerful, 
 and too often seeks gratification in the exercise of cold treach- 
 ery or petty annoyance : in either case, the eye magnifies 
 every object which can at all feed the greediness of suspicion. 
 When this passion has any fair cause, it may be justifiable, 
 and a crisis generally ends it ; but when no cause exists, save 
 in the distempered fancy of a sinking constitution, it is perma- 
 nent and invincible. 
 
 Such was the case with my friend : his jealousy had no fixed 
 object on which to fasten itself, but wandered from person to 
 person. Indeed, it could have no resting-place ; for in this 
 point of view, Maria was blameless. But in the eye of my 
 friend she had guilt — the guilt of being attractive. He con- 
 ceived that everybody must love her as he did himself, and 
 
342 GEORGE HARTPOLE. 
 
 < 
 
 fancied that a female universally admired could not be univer 
 sally ungrateful. 
 
 This melancholy and morbid state of mind appeared to me 
 likely to increase from residence in a metropolis, and I has- 
 tened his departure for Shrewl castle, to take upon himself the 
 office of high-sheriff. I did not go with them, for my mind 
 misgave me : her mother met them there, and innocently 
 completed the ruin of her children by a step the consequences 
 whereof should ever be a warning to wives, to parents, and to 
 I husbands ! 
 
 At Shrewl, Mrs. Otway perceived George's ideal malady ; 
 she was a silly woman who fancied she was wise, and thought 
 she never could do wrong because she always intended to do 
 right. She proposed to Maria a most desperate remedy to cure 
 her husband of his jealousy, though she did not reflect that it 
 might probably be at the expense of his existence, and certainly 
 of her daughter's duty. They conspired together, and wrote 
 two or three letters directed to Mrs. Hartpole, without signature, 
 but professing love, and designating meetings. These they 
 took measures to drop so as Hartpole might accidentally find 
 some of them, and thus they thought in the end to convince 
 him of his folly, and laugh him out of his suspicions. 
 
 The result may be easily anticipated by those who have 
 read with attention the character of the husband. He became 
 outrageous ; the development did not pacify him ; and his 
 paroxysm was nearly fatal. Maria was in consequence but 
 little better, and the unexpected result of her own injudicious 
 conduct nearly distracted the unhappy mother. But it was 
 too late to retrieve their error : the die was thrown ; Hartpole 
 was inflexible ; and the first I heard of it was Maria's depar- 
 ture to her father's, and a final separation : and thus, after a 
 marriage of little more than eighteen months, that ill-starred 
 young man, completely the sport of fortune, became once more 
 solitary ! Laboring under the false idea that he could soon con- 
 quer his attachment, he made Maria an ample separate main- 
 tenance, and determined to go to Lisbon, where he thought a 
 change of scene might, perhaps, restore his peace, and the 
 climate his shattered constitution. 
 
SEPARATION MISCHIEVOUS HOAX. 343 
 
 Before lie sailed, I endeavored in vain to reconcile them. 
 She did not love him well enough to risk a farther residence 
 at Shrewl, in the absence of her connections ; and his mind 
 was casehardened against the whole family from which she 
 sprang. His reasons to me for parting from her finally, were 
 at least plausible. 
 
 " I acquit her at once," said he, " of ever having shown a 
 symptom of impropriety, nay even of giddiness : there I was 
 wrong, and I own it : but she has proved herself perfectly 
 capable of, and expert at, deception; and the woman that has 
 practised deception for my sake would be equally capable of 
 practising it for her oiun. So far from curing my error, she has 
 confirmed me in it ; and when confidence ceases separation 
 ought to ensue." 
 
 Hartpole shortly after embarked for Portugal, and only 
 returned to terminate his short career by a lingering and pain- 
 ful death. 
 
 On his arrival at Lisbon without any amendment in either 
 mind or body, I felt, and I am sure he did himself, that the 
 world was fast receding from him. The ruffianly manners of 
 the person whom he had chosen as a led-captain, were little 
 congenial to his own characteristic mildness. He had, how- 
 ever, a most faithful valet ; and after a few posts, I conceived, 
 from his letters, that his spirits had very much improved, when 
 a circumstance occurred which, had he been in health, would 
 have been merely ludicrous ; but which the shattered state of 
 his nerves rendered him almost incapable of bearing up against. 
 
 On his marriage he had given the commission he then held 
 to Mr. Otway, his brother-in-law (I believe, now, General 
 Otway) ; on his separation, however, he determined to resume 
 the profession, and accordingly purchased a commission in a 
 regiment of the line then raising by his uncle, the late Lord 
 Aldborough ; and he had been gazetted previously to his de- 
 parture. 
 
 After he had been a short time at Lisbon, some mischievous 
 person, for some mischievous object, informed his uncle that 
 he been dead a fortnight ! and, without further inquiry, that 
 nobleman resold George's commission, and an announcement 
 
344 GEORGE HARTPOLE. 
 
 appeared in the newspapers, that Hartpole had fallen a victim 
 at Lisbon, to consumption, the rapid progress of which had 
 rendered his case hopeless even before he quitted Ireland, 
 adding the name of the party who had succeeded him in his 
 regiment. 
 
 Now the fact is, that the climate of Lisbon had been of great 
 service to his health ; and he was quickly recovering strength 
 and spirits, when taking up, one day, an English paper, he 
 read the above-mentioned paragraph. 
 
 His valet described to me coarsely the instantaneous effect 
 of this circumstance on his master's mind. It seemed to pro- 
 claim his fate by anticipation : his commission was disposed 
 of, under the idea that he was actually dead ; every melan- 
 choly reflection crowded upon him ; he totally relapsed ; and 
 I firmly believe that paragraph was his death-blow. After 
 lingering several months longer, he returned to England, and 
 I received a letter requesting me to meet him without delay at 
 Bristol, and stating that he had made his will. I immediately 
 undertook the journey, and took him over a horse which I 
 conceived adapted to him at that time. His sister (the present 
 Mrs. Bowen, of Rutland square) was with him. His figure was 
 emaciated to the last degree, and he was sinking rapidly into 
 the grave. He was attended by a very clever young physician 
 of that place, a Doctor Barrow, and I soon perceived that the 
 doctor had fallen a victim to the charms of Miss Hartpole. 
 
 The patient had, however, declined but little in appetite, 
 when the disorder suddenly fixed itself in his throat, and he 
 ceased to have the power of eating : he now entirely gave 
 himself up as a person who must die of hunger. This melan- 
 choly scene almost distracted me, and produced a most unpleas- 
 ant affection of the head. The doctor gave us little consola- 
 tion ; and Hartpole himself, though reduced to such a state, 
 was really the most cheerful of the ^arty, evincing a degree of 
 resignation at once heroic and touching. His will had been 
 prepared by Mr. Lemans, of Bristol (to me a perfect stranger), 
 and executed while I was in Ireland : he informed us all that 
 I was joint executor, with two of his uncles. 
 
 On the morning of Hartpole's death, he sent for me to rise 
 
HIS DEATH. 345 
 
 and come to him. I found him in an agony of hunger — per- 
 spiration in large drops rolling down his face. He said, 
 neither food nor liquid could descend into his stomach ; that 
 his ribs had contracted inward, as if convulsively drawn 
 together ; and that he was in great pain. I can not describe 
 my emotion ! He walked about his room and spoke to me 
 earnestly on many subjects, on some of which I have been, 
 and ever shall be, totally silent. At length he called me to 
 the window: — " Barrington," said he, "you see at a distance 
 a very green field ?" " Yes," I replied. " Well," continued 
 George, " it is my dying request that I may be buried there 
 to-morrow evening." 
 
 He spoke so calmly and strongly, that I felt much surprised. 
 He observed this, and said, " It is true : I am in the agonies of 
 death." I now called the doctor and Hartpole's servant : the 
 invalid sat down upon the bed ; and when he took me by the 
 hand, I shuddered, for it was burning hot, while every nerve 
 and sinew seemed to be in spasmodic action. I never had 
 been in collision with a dying person before : he pressed my 
 hand with great fervor, and murmured, "My friend!" these 
 were the last words I heard him utter. I looked in his face : 
 his eyes were glazed — his lips quivered — he laid his head on 
 the pillow, and expired. 
 
 This awful scene, to me so perfectly new, overpowered me, 
 and for a few minutes I was myself insensible. 
 
 I disobeyed Hartpole's injunctions respecting his funeral ; 
 for I had his body enclosed in a leaden coffin and sent to be 
 interred at Shrewl castle, in the cemetery of his ancestors, 
 wherein his remains were not admitted without much reluc- 
 tance by his ungrateful sister and her husband, who resided 
 there in his absence. 
 
 On the reading of the will, his first bequest appeared to be 
 to " his friend Barrington, six thousand pounds," together with 
 the reversion of his landed estates and collieries, on the death 
 of his sisters without children : one had been some time mar- 
 ried and had none ; the other was unmarried, but soon after 
 made a match with a gentleman of considerable property, but 
 
 15* 
 
34:6 GEORGE HARTPOLE. 
 
 whom I should think few young ladies of fortune would have 
 fancied. 
 
 The uncles would not act as executors : considered me as 
 an interloper ; and commenced a suit to annul the will, as 
 prepared under undue influence. Fortunately for my reputa- 
 tion, I had never known the persons who prepared it, was in 
 another kingdom at the time, and had not seen Hartpole for 
 many months before its execution : his sister was with him ; 
 not I. 
 
 I got a decree without delay. The family of Stratford, who 
 preferred law to all other species of pasti?ne, appealed. My 
 decree was confirmed, and they were burdened with the whole 
 costs ; and in effect paid me six thousand pounds, on an ami- 
 cable arrangement. My reversion yielded me nothing ; for I 
 fancy the sisters have since had nearly twenty children be- 
 tween them to inherit it. 
 
 Thus ended Hartpole's life, and thus did a family become 
 extinct, of the most respectable description. I neither looked 
 to nor expected any legacy from my friend, beyond a mourn- 
 ing ring. He left numerous other bequests, including a con- 
 siderable one to Mary Sleven, whose fate I never heard. 
 
 The sequel of Maria Otway's history was not much less mel- 
 ancholy than that of her unhappy partner, as she died prema- 
 turely, by the most affecting of all deaths — in childbirth. I 
 saw her after the separation, but never after George's decease. 
 As I predicted, her style of beauty was not calculated to icear 
 well ; and even before she was out of her teens, Maria Otway 
 had been much handsomer. Her manner became more studied 
 — of course, less graceful : and that naivete, which had rendered 
 her so engaging to my friend, was superseded by the cold affec- 
 tation which fashionable manners prescribe. 
 
 Maria, I think, never had been attached to Hartpole ; and 
 within two years after his decease, she made another and a 
 most unexceptionable match — namely, with Mr. Prittie, the 
 present member for Tipperary : but Providence seemed to pur- 
 sue fatally even the relict of my friend ; and at the age of 
 twenty-three, death cut off the survivor of that union which an 
 unconcerned spectator would have deemed so auspicious. It 
 
a THE peek of a HUNDRED WILLS." 34:7 
 
 is said, but I do not wish to be understood as vouching the re- 
 port, that after Mrs. Prittie's death, a prediction of its occur- 
 rence was found written by herself six months before, designa- 
 ting the precise time of her departure. 
 
 I have been diffuse on the memoirs of Hartpole, because I 
 felt myself interested in almost every material event of his 
 career. To overlook our friendship, indeed, and his liberality, 
 would have been ungrateful in any memoir of myself.* 
 
 Before I quit these " fond records," and the associations 
 which they excite, I am tempted once more to revert to the 
 peculiarities of the Stratford family, which indeed present an 
 ample field for anecdote. More curious or dissimilar charac- 
 ters never surely bore the same name ! 
 
 Earl Robert, one of those who declared war against me on 
 Hartpole's death, was surnamed " The Peer of a Hundred 
 Wills;" and it is matter of fact that, upon a trial at law in 
 County Wicklow, since his lordship's death, fifty different wills 
 were produced, together with a great number of affidavits, &c, 
 also signed by the earl. Several of these documents are of 
 the most singular description, highly illustrative of the earl's 
 character, and I should think among the most extraordinary 
 papers existing in the prerogative court. 
 
 It was a general rule with this peer to make a will or codi- 
 cil in favor of any person with whom he was desirous of carry- 
 ing a point, taking especial care that the party should be made 
 acquainted Avith his proceeding. No sooner, however, was his 
 end accomplished, and other game started, than a fresh instru- 
 ment annulled all the provisions of the preceding one ! Thus, 
 if desirous of obtaining a lady's regards, he made a will in her 
 favor, and let her find it by accident. He at length got fifty 
 thousand pounds with a grand-daughter of the duke of Chandos. 
 
 In the cause before mentioned, I was retained by the late 
 Earl John, to argue that his brother was mad, and Mr. Plun- 
 kett was my opponent. In support of our position it was that 
 the fifty wills were produced ; and I hesitate not to say that 
 either of them, had it emanated from any other individual than 
 his lordship, would have been deemed conclusive. But the 
 * George Hartpole was sponsor to my only son. 
 
348 GEORGE IIAKTPOLE. 
 
 jury had known the party whose vagaries they were summoned 
 to decide upon ; and therefore found, as usual, in favor of his 
 lordship's last will. I subsequently asked one of those gentle- 
 men the grounds of their verdict ; and his answer was — " We 
 all knew well that the testator was more ***** than fool : did 
 you ever hear of anybody taking him in ?" — and, the truth is, 
 the jury were right : for I never met with a man who had more 
 worldly sense and tact than Robert, earl of Aldborough, and 
 owing to my close connection with his nephew Hartpole, I had 
 abundant opportunities of judging. 
 
 The present countess-dowager of Aldborough was in the 
 habit of uttering jeiix d'esprit with more spirit and grace than 
 any woman in the w r orld. She often cut deeply ; but so keen 
 and polished was the edge of her wit, that the patient was 
 never mangled. 
 
 The cause of her naming the Honorable and Reverend Paul 
 Stratford, her brother-in-law, " Holy Paul," was droll enough. 
 Mount Neil, a remarkably fine old country-house, furnished in 
 the ancient style, was that ecclesiastic's family mansion, where- 
 in he resided many years, but of which it was thought he at 
 last grew tired. One windy night, this house (some time af 
 it had been insured to a large amount) most perversely and 
 miraculously took fire (the common people still say, and A^erily 
 believe, it was of its own accord). No water was to be had ; 
 the flames raged ; the tenants bustled, jostled, and tumbled 
 over each other, in a general uproar and zeal to save his rev- 
 erence's great house. His reverence alone, meek and resigned, 
 beheld the voracious element devour his hereditary property — 
 piously attributing the evil solely to the just will of Providence 
 as a punishment for his having vexed his mother some years 
 before her death ! Under this impression, the Honorable and 
 Reverend Paul adopted the only rational and pious means of 
 extinguishing the conflagration : he fell on his knees in front 
 of the blazing mansion, and, with clasped and uplifted hands, 
 and in the tone of a saint during his martyrdom, besought the 
 Lord to show him mercy, and extinguish a flame which was 
 setting all human aid at defiance ! The people around, how- 
 ever, did not place equal reliance on the interposition of Prov- 
 
A FIRM RELIANCE ON PROVIDENCE. 34:9 
 
 idence, which, as a country-fellow very judiciously observed, 
 might be employed somewhere else at the time, and unable to 
 look to his reverence's business : so they continued, while prac- 
 ticable, to bring out the furniture piecemeal, and range it on 
 the grass-plot. Paul no sooner perceived the result of their 
 exertions, than, still on his knees, he cried out : " Stop, stop ! 
 throw all my valuables back into the flames ! Never fly, my 
 friends, in the face of Heaven ! When the Almighty resolved 
 to burn my house, he most certainly intended to destroy the 
 furniture. I feel resigned. The Lord's will be done I" 
 
 The tenants reluctantly obeyed his orders ; but, unfortunate- 
 ly for " Holy Paul," the insurance-company, when applied to 
 for payment of his losses, differed altogether from his reverence 
 as to the dispensation of Providence, and absolutely refused to 
 pay any part of the damage incurred. 
 
 So much disrepute did the Honorable and Reverend Paul 
 get into by this occurrence, that people were not prone to em- 
 ploy him on clerical functions, and his nephew himself peremp- 
 torily declined being married by him. In fact, the stain of 
 holy Paul's character was, inordinate love of money ; he had 
 very good property, but was totally averse to paying away 
 anything. He was put into prison by his niece's husband, 
 where he long remained rather than render a due account ; 
 and when at length he did so, he refused to pay a few pounds' 
 fees, and continued voluntarily in confinement until his death. 
 
 HAMILTON ROWAN AND THE BAR. 
 
 Sketch of the Character of Mr. Hamilton Rowan — His Quixotic Spirit of Philanthropy — 
 Case of Mary Neil, taken up by Mr. Rowan — Dinner-Club among the Briefless Barristers 
 of Dublin — Apparition of Mr. Hamilton Rowan and his Dog — More frightened than hurt 
 — An Unanswerable Query — Mr. Rowan's Subsequent Adventures — The Rev. Mr. Jack- 
 son — He is brought up to receive Sentence for High-Treason, and expires in Court. 
 
 There were few persons whose history was connected with 
 that of Ireland during my time, who excited my interest in a 
 greater degree than Mr. Hamilton Rowan. The dark points 
 of this gentleman's character have been assiduously exhibited 
 
350 HAMILTON EOWAN AND THE BAR. 
 
 by persons who knew little or nothing of his life, and that, too, 
 long after he had ceased to be an obnoxious character. I will 
 endeavor to show the obverse of the medal ; and I claim the 
 meed of perfect disinterestedness, which will, I think, be 
 awarded, when I state that I never had the least social inter- 
 course with Mr. Rowan, whose line of politics was always deci- 
 dedly opposed to my own. 
 
 Archibald Hamilton Rowan (I believe he still lives) is a gen- 
 tleman of most respectable family, and of ample fortune. Con- 
 sidered merely as a private character, I fancy there are few 
 who will not give him full credit for every quality which does 
 honor to that station in society. As a philanthropist, he cer- 
 tainly carried his ideas even beyond reason, and to a degree 
 of excess which I really think laid in his mind the foundation 
 of all his enthusiastic proceedings, both in common life and in 
 politics. 
 
 The first interview I had with this gentleman did not occupy 
 more than a few minutes ; but it was of a most impressive na- 
 ture, and, though now eight-and-thirty years back, appears as 
 fresh to my eye as if it took place yesterday : in truth, I believe 
 it must be equally present to every individual of the company 
 who survives, and is not too old to remember anything. 
 
 There is generally in every metropolis some temporary in- 
 cident which serves as a common subject of conversation ; 
 something which nominally excites interest, but which in fact 
 nobody cares a sous about, though for the day it sells all the 
 newspapers, and gives employment to every tongue, till some 
 new occurrence happens, to work up curiosity and change the 
 topic. 
 
 In 1788, a very young girl, of the name of Mary Neil, had 
 been ill-treated by a person unknown, aided by a woman. 
 The late Lord Carhampton was supposed to be the transgres- 
 sor, but without any proof whatsoever of his lordship's culpa- 
 bility. The humor of Hamilton Rowan, which had a sort of 
 quixotic tendency to resist all oppression and to redress ev- 
 ery species of wrong, led him to take up the cause of Mary 
 Neil with a zeal and enthusiastic perseverance which nobody 
 but the knight of La Mancha could have exceeded. Day and 
 
HIS ZEAL IN BEHALF OF MARY NEIL. 351 
 
 night the ill-treatment of this girl was the subject of his 
 thoughts, his actions, his dreams : he even went about preach- 
 ing a kind of crusade in her favor, and succeeded in gaining a 
 great many partisans among the citizens; and, in short, he 
 eventually obtained a conviction of the woman as accessary to 
 a crime, the perpetrator whereof remained undiscovered, and 
 she accordingly received sentence of death. Still Mary Neil 
 was not bettered by this conviction : she was utterly unpro- 
 vided for, had suffered much, and seemed quite wretched. Yet 
 there were not wanting persons who doubted her truth, decried 
 her former character, and represented her story as that of an 
 impostor. This not only hurt the feelings and philanthropy 
 but the pride of Hamilton Rowan ; and he vowed personal ven- 
 geance against all her calumniators, high and low. 
 
 At this time about twenty young barristers, including myself, 
 had formed a dinner-club in Dublin. We had taken large 
 apartments for the purpose ; and, as we were not yet troubled 
 with too much business, were in the habit of faring luxuriously 
 every day, and taking a bottle of the best claret which could 
 be obtained.* 
 
 There never existed a more cheerful nor half so cheap a 
 dinner-club. One day, while dining with our usual hilarity, 
 the servant informed us that a gentleman below stairs desired 
 to be admitted for a moment. We considered it to be some 
 brother-barrister who requested permission to join our party, 
 and desired him to be shown up. What was our surprise, how- 
 ever, on perceiving the figure that presented itself! — a man, 
 who might have served as model for a Hercules, his gigantic 
 limbs conveying the idea of almost supernatural strength ; his 
 shoulders, arms, and broad chest, were the very emblems of 
 muscular energy ; and his flat, rough countenance, overshad- 
 owed by enormous dark eyebrows, and deeply furrowed by 
 strong lines of vigor and fortitude, completed one of the finest 
 yet most formidable figures I had ever beheld. He was very 
 
 * One of us, Counsellor Townly Fitgate (afterward chairman of "Wicldow 
 county), having a pleasure-cutter of his own in the harbor of Dublin, used 
 to send her to smuggle claret for us from the isle of Man: he made a friend 
 of one of the tidewaiters, and we consequently had the very best wines on 
 the cheapest possible terms. 
 
352 HAMILTON ROWAN AND THE BAR. 
 
 well dressed. Close by his side stalked in a shaggy Newfound- 
 land dog of corresponding magnitude, with hair a foot long, 
 and who, if he should be voraciously inclined, seemed well 
 able to devour a barrister or two without overcharging his 
 stomach : as he entered, indeed, he alternately looked at us 
 and then up at his master, as if only awaiting the orders of 
 the latter to commence the onslaught. His master held in his 
 hand a large, yellow, knotted club, slung by a leathern thong 
 round his great wrist ; he had also a long small-sword by his 
 side. 
 
 This apparition walked deliberately up to the table ; and, 
 having made his obeisance with seeming courtesy, a short 
 pause ensued, during which he looked round on all of the 
 company with an aspect, if not stern, yet ill calculated to set 
 our minds at ease, either as to his or his dog's ulterior inten- 
 tions. 
 
 " Gentlemen !" at length he said, in a tone and with an air 
 at once so mild and courteous, nay, so polished, as fairly to 
 give the lie, as it were, to his gigantic and threatening figure 
 — "Gentlemen! I have heard, with very great regret, that 
 some members of this club have been so indiscreet as to calum- 
 niate the character of Mary Neil, which, from the part I have 
 taken, I feel identified Avith my own. If any present have 
 done so, I doubt not he will now have the candor and courage 
 to avow it. Who avows it ?" The dog looked up at him 
 again ; he returned the glance, but contented himself for the 
 present with patting the animal's head, and was silent. So 
 were we. 
 
 The extreme surprise, indeed, with which our party was 
 seized, bordering almost on consternation, rendered all consul- 
 tation as to a reply out of the question ; and never did I see) 
 the old axiom that " what is everybody's business is nobody's 
 business" more thoroughly exemplified. A few of the company 
 whispered each his neighbor, and I perceived one or tw r o steal 
 a fruitknife under the table-cloth, in case of extremities ; but 
 no one made any reply. We were eighteen in number ; and 
 as neither would or could answer for the others, it would re- 
 quire eighteen replies to satisfy the giant's single query : and 
 
AN EXTRAORDINARY INTERVIEW. 353 
 
 I fancy some of us could not have replied to his satisfaction, 
 and stuck to the truth into the bargain. 
 
 He repeated his demand (elevating his tone each time) 
 thrice : " Does any gentleman avow it ?" A faint buzz now 
 circulated round the room, but there was no answer whatsoever. 
 Communication was cut off, and there was a dead silence. At 
 length our visiter said, with a loud voice, that he must suppose, 
 if any gentleman had made any observations or assertions 
 against Mary Neil's character, he would have had the courage 
 and the spirit to avow it : "Therefore," continued he, "I shall 
 take it for granted that my information was erroneous; and, 
 in that point of view, I regret having alarmed your society." 
 And, without another word, he bowed three times very low, 
 and retired backward to the door (his dog also backing out 
 with equal politeness), where, with a salaam doubly ceremoni- 
 ous, Mr. Rowan ended this extraordinary interview. On the 
 first of his departing bows, by a simultaneous impulse, we all 
 rose and returned his salute, almost touching the table with our 
 noses, but still in profound silence ; which booing on both sides 
 was repeated, as I have said, till he was fairly out of the room. 
 Three or four of the company then ran hastily to the window, 
 to be sure that he and the dog were clear off into the street ; 
 and no sooner had this satisfactory denouement been ascertained, 
 than a general roar of laughter ensued, and we talked it over 
 in a hundred different ways ; the whole of our arguments, how- 
 ever, turned upon the question " which had behaved the po- 
 litest upon the occasion," but not one word was uttered as to 
 which had behaved the stoutest. 
 
 This spirit of false chivalry, which took such entire posses- 
 sion of Hamilton Rowan's understanding, was soon diverted 
 into the channels of political theory ; and from the discussion 
 of general politics he advanced to the contemplation of sedi- 
 tion. His career in this respect was short : he was tried and 
 convicted of circulating a factious paper, and sentenced to a 
 heavy fine and a long imprisonment, during which, political 
 charges of a much more serious nature were arrayed against 
 him. He fortunately escaped from prison to the house of Mr. 
 Evans, of Portrenne, near Dublin, and got off in a fishing-boat 
 
354 HAMILTON ROWAN AND THE EAR. 
 
 to France, where, after numerous clangers, lie at length arrived 
 safely. Rowan subsequently resided some years in America, 
 in which country he had leisure for reflection, and saw plainly 
 the folly and mischief of his former conduct. The government 
 found that his contrition was sincere. He eventually received 
 his majesty's free pardon ; and I have since seen him and his 
 family at the castle drawing-rooms, in dresses singularly splen- 
 did, where they were well received by the viceroy and by 
 many of the nobility and gentry : and the people should con- 
 sider that his majesty's free pardon for political offences is 
 always meant to wipe away every injurious feeling from his 
 subject's recollection. 
 
 The mention of ]\ir. Rowan reminds me of an anecdote of a 
 singular nature, extremely affecting, and which at the time 
 was the subject of much conversation ; and as a connection 
 was alleged to exist between him and the unfortunate gentle- 
 man to whom it relates (which connection had nearly proved 
 fatal to Mr. Rowan), I consider this not an inappropriate place 
 to allude to the circumstance. 
 
 Mr. Jackson, an English clergyman, who had come over to 
 assist in organizing a revolution in Ireland, had been arrested 
 in that country, tried, and found guilty of high treason in cor- 
 responding with the enemy in France. I was in court when 
 Mr. Jackson was brought up to receive sentence of death ; and 
 I believe whoever was present must recollect it as one of the 
 most touching and uncommon scenes which appeared during 
 that eventful period. 
 
 He was conducted into the usual place where prisoners stand 
 to receive sentence. He was obviously much affected as he 
 entered ; his limbs seemed to totter, and large drops of per- 
 spiration rolled down his face. He was supposed to fear death, 
 and to be in great terror. The judge began the usual admoni- 
 tion before he pronounced sentence : the prisoner seemed to 
 regard it but little, appearing abstracted by the internal agony. 
 
 This was still attributed to apprehension : he covered his 
 face, and seemed sinking: the judge paused — the crowd 
 evinced surprise — and the sheriff, on examination, declared 
 the, prisoner was too ill to hear his sentence. Meanwhile the 
 
SUICIDE OF JACKSON IN COTJKT. 355 
 
 wretched culprit continued to droop, and at length, his limbs 
 giving way, he fell ! A visitation so unexampled created a 
 great sensation in the court : a physician was immediately 
 summoned, but too late ; Jackson had eluded his denouncers, 
 and was no more. 
 
 It was discovered that, previous to his coming into court, he 
 had taken a large quantity of arsenic and aquafortis mixed in 
 tea. No judgment, of course, was pronounced against him. 
 He had a splendid funeral, and to the astonishment of Dublin, 
 it was attended by several members of parliament and bar- 
 risters ! a Mr. Tigh, and Counsellor Richard Guinness, were 
 among them. 
 
 It is worthy of observation, that I was always on friendly, 
 nay, intimate terms, with many leading persons of the two 
 most hostile and intolerant political bodies that could possibly 
 exist together in one country, and in the midst of the most 
 tumultuous and bloody scenes, I did not find that I had one 
 enemy. It is singular, but true, that my attachment to the 
 government, and my activity in support of it, yet, placed me 
 in no danger from its inveterate enemies ; and in several in- 
 stances I was sought as mediator between the rebel and Lord 
 Kilwarden, then attorney-general ;* of whom, now he is no 
 more, it is but justice to say, that of all. the law-officers and 
 official servants of the crown I ever had communication with, 
 the most kind-hearted, clement, and honorable, was one whose 
 manners and whose name conveyed a very different reputation. 
 I know that he had been solicited to take some harsh measures 
 as to the barristers who attended Jackson's funeral ; and 
 though he might have been justified in doing so, he said " that 
 both the honor of his profession and the feelings of his own 
 mind, prevented him from giving publicity to, or stamping as a 
 crime, what he was sure in its nature could only be inad- 
 vertency." 
 
 * He was at that time Mr. Wolfe. An information ex-officio had been 
 filed against a printer in Cork for a seditious newspaper: it turned out that 
 the two Counsellors Sheers were the real editors. They begged of me to 
 mediate with the attorney-general. He had always a strong feeling for the 
 honor and character of his profession, and forgave all parties on conditions 
 which I all but vouched for, but to which they certainly did not adhere. 
 
356 SELF-DBCAPITATION. 
 
 SELF-DE CAPITATION. 
 
 An Irish Peasant cutting: his own head off by mistake — His reputed Ghost — Natural deaths 
 of the Irish Peasantry — Reflections on the Excise Laws. 
 
 Among my memorandums of singular incidents, I find one 
 which even now affords me as much amusement as such a cir- 
 cumstance can possibly admit of ; and as it is, at the same time, 
 highly characteristic of the people among whom it occurred, 
 in that view I relate it. A man decapitating himself by mistake, ?;S 
 is indeed a blunder of true Hibernian character. 
 
 In the year 1800, a laborer, dwelling near the town of Athy, 
 County Kildare, where some of my family then resided, was 
 walking with his comrade up the banks of the Barrow to the 
 farm of a Mr. Richardson, on whose meadows they were em- 
 ployed to mow ; each, in the usual Irish way, having his scythe 
 loosely wagging over his shoulder, and lazily lounging close to 
 the bank of the river, they espied a salmon partly hid under 
 the bank. It is the nature of this fish that, when his head is 
 concealed, he fancies no one can see his tail (there are many 
 wiseacres, beside the salmon, of the same way of thinking). 
 On the present occasion the body of the fish was visible. 
 
 " Oh, Ned — Ned dear!" said one of the mowers, "look at 
 that big fellow there, isn't it a pity we ha'n't no spear V 
 
 " May be," said Ned, " we could be after piking the lad with 
 the sevthe handle." 
 
 " True for you !" said Dennis ; " spike of yeer handle is 
 longer nor mine ; give the fellow a dig with it at any rate." 
 
 " Ay, will I," returned the other ; " I'll give the lad a prod 
 he'll never forget any how." 
 
 The spike and their sport was all they thought of; but the 
 blade of the scythe, which hung over Ned's shoulders, never 
 came into the contemplation of either of them. Ned cautiously 
 looked over the bank; the unconscious salmon lay snug, little 
 imagining the conspiracy that had been formed against his tail. 
 
 "Now hit the lad smart!" said Dennis: "there now — 
 
HOW IT OCCUEKED. 357 
 
 there ! rise your first : now you have the boy ! now Ned- 
 success !" 
 
 Ned struck at the salmon with all his might and main, and 
 that was not trifling. But whether " the hoy" was piked or 
 not never appeared, for poor Ned, bending his neck as he struck 
 at the salmon, placed the vertebrae in the most convenient 
 position for unfurnishing his shoulders, and his head came 
 tumbling splash into the Barrow, to the utter astonishment of 
 his comrade, who could not conceive Jiow it could drop of. so 
 suddenly. But the next minute he had the consolation of see- 
 ing the head attended by one of Ms own ears, which had been 
 most dexterously sliced off by the same blow which beheaded 
 his comrade. 
 
 The head and ear rolled down the river in company, and 
 were picked up with extreme horror at the milldam, near Mr. 
 Richardson's, by one of the miller's men. 
 
 " Who the devil does this head belong to ?" exclaimed the 
 miller. 
 
 " Whoever owned it," said the man, " had three ears, at any 
 rate." 
 
 A search now being made, Ned's headless body was dis- 
 covered lying half over the bank, and Dennis, in a swoon, 
 through fright and loss of blood, was found recumbent by its 
 side. Dennis, when brought to himself (which process was 
 effected by whiskey), recited the whole adventure. They tied 
 up the head ; the body was attended by a numerous assem- 
 blage of Ned's countrymen to the grave ; and the habit of 
 carrying scythes carelessly very much declined. Many acci- 
 dents had happened before from that cause, and the priest very 
 judiciously told his flock, after the De Prqfundis, that Ned's 
 misfortune was a just punishment for his negligence, whereby 
 he had hurt a child a day or two before. 
 
 From that time none of the country people would, on any 
 occasion go after dark to the spot where the catastrophe hap- 
 pened, as they say the doctor stole the head to anatomize it ; 
 which fact was confirmed by a man without any head being 
 frequently seen by the women and children who were occasion- 
 ally led to pass the moat of Ascole, three miles from Athy, in 
 
358 SELF-DECAPITATION. 
 
 the night-time ; and they really believed the apparition to be 
 no other than the ghost of* poor Ned Maher, looking every- 
 where for his head that the doctor had made way with. 
 
 This leads me to a digression more important. The super- 
 stition of the lower orders of Irish, when death occnrs in any 
 peculiar manner, is superlative. In truth, the only three kinds 
 of death they consider as natural are, dying quietly in their 
 own cabins, being hanged, about the assize time, or starving 
 when the potato crop is deficient. All these they regard as 
 matters of course ; but any other species of dissolution is con- 
 templated with much horror ; though, to be sure, they make no 
 very strong objection to being shot at by a regular army. They 
 say their " fathers and forefathers before them, were' always 
 used to that same ;" and all they expect in such case is, that 
 there should be some sort of reason ,for it, which they them- 
 selves frequently furnish. But those manslaughters which 
 occur through the activity of the revenue officers in prevention 
 of distillation, they never can reconcile themselves to, and 
 never forgive. They can not understand the reason for this at 
 all, and treasure up a spirit of 'savage revenge to the last day 
 of their lives. 
 
 An ignorant poor cottager says, naturally enough, to his 
 landlord, " Ough ! then is n't it mighty odd, plase your honor, 
 that we are not hindered from eating oats, whenever we can 
 
 get any 1 but if we attempt to drink them, by J s, we are 
 
 kilt, and battered, and shot, and burned out like a parcel of 
 dogs by the excisemen, that's twice greater rogues nor we are, 
 plase your honor." 
 
 In truth it is to be lamented that this distinction between 
 solids and fluids should not be better reconciled to the common 
 sense of the peasantry, or be somehow regulated so as to pre- 
 vent perpetual resort to that erroneous system of mountain 
 warfare and revenue bloodshed, which ever has kept, and ever 
 will keep, whole districts of Ireland in a state of excitement 
 and distraction. I know that I speak the sentiments of some 
 of his majesty's enlightened ministers on this subject. 
 
A LEARNED BEAR. 359 
 
 FATHER O'LEARY. 
 
 Humorous Story of Father O'Leary and a Bear — Mistaken Notions respecting; Ireland on 
 the Continent — Lord Ventry and his Tenant ; an Anecdote characteristic of the Irish 
 Peasant. 
 
 I frequently had an opportunity of meeting at my father- 
 in-law's, Mr. Grogan's, where he often dined, a most worthy 
 priest, Father O'Leary, and have listened frequently w r ith 
 great zest to anecdotes which he used to tell with a quaint yet 
 spirited humor quite unique. His manner, his air, his counte- 
 nance, all bespoke wit, talent, and a good heart. I liked his 
 company excessively, and have often regretted I did not culti- 
 vate his acquaintance more, or recollect his witticisms better. 
 It was singular, but it was fact, that even before Father 
 O'Leary opened his lips, a stranger would say, " That is an 
 Irishman," and at the same time guess him to be a priest. 
 
 One anecdote in particular I remember. Coming from St. 
 Omer, he told us, he stopped a few days to visit a brother 
 priest in the town of Boulogne sur Mer. Here he heard of a 
 great curiosity which all the people Avere running to see — a 
 curious bear that some fishermen had taken at sea out of a 
 wreck ; it had sense, and attempted to utter a sort of lingo 
 which they called patois, but which nobody understood. 
 
 O'Leary gave his six sous to see the wonder, which was 
 shown at the port by candlelight, and was a very odd kind of 
 animal, no doubt. The bear had been taught a hundred tricks, 
 all to be performed at the keeper's word of command. It was 
 late in the evening when O'Leary saw him, and the bear 
 seemed sulky ; the keeper, however, with a short spike at the 
 end of a pole, made him move about briskly. He marked on 
 sand what o'clock it was, with his paw, and distinguished the 
 men and women in a very comical way ; in fact, our priest was 
 quite diverted. The beast at length grew tired ; the keeper 
 hit him with the pole ; he stirred a little, but continued quite 
 sullen : his master coaxed him — no ! he would not work ! At 
 length, the brute of a keeper gave him two or three sharp pricks 
 
360 FATHER O'LEAKY. 
 
 with the goad, when he roared out most tremendously, and 
 rising on his hind legs, swore at his tormentor in very good 
 native Irish. 
 
 O'Leary waited no longer, but went immediately to the 
 mayor, whom he informed that the blackguards of fishermen 
 had sewed up a poor Irishman in a bear-skin, and were 
 showing him for six sous ! This civic dignitary, who had 
 himself seen the bear, would not believe our friend : at last 
 O'Leary prevailed on him to accompany him to the room. On 
 their arrival the bear was still upon duty ; and O'Leary, step- 
 ping up to him, says, " Gand e tha hawn, Pat ?" (How do you 
 do, Pat ?) — " Slangcr a maniigouth" (Pretty well, thank'ee), 
 says the bear. The people were surprised to hear how plainly 
 he spoke : but the mayor directly ordered him to be ripped up ; 
 and after some opposition and a good deal of difficulty, Pat 
 stepped forth (stark naked) out of the bear-skin wherein he 
 had been fourteen or fifteen days most cleverly stitched. The 
 women made off; the men stood astonished; and the mayor 
 ordered the keepers to be put in jail unless they satisfied him ; 
 but that was presently done. The bear afterward told O'Leary 
 that he was very well fed, and did not care much about the 
 clothing, only they worked him too hard. The fishermen had 
 found him at sea on a hencoop, which had saved him from 
 going to the bottom with a ship wherein he had a little venture 
 of dried cod from Dungarvon, and which was bound from 
 Waterford to Bilboa. He could not speak a word of any lan- 
 guage but Irish, and had never been at sea before. The 
 fishermen had brought him in, fed him well, and endeavored 
 to repay themselves by showing him as a curiosity. 
 
 O'Leary 's mode of telling this story was quite admirable. I 
 never heard any anecdote (and I believe this one to have been 
 true) related with so much genuine drollery, which was en- 
 hanced by his not changing a muscle himself while every one 
 of his hearers was in a paroxysm of laughter. 
 
 Another anecdote he used to tell with incomparable dramatic 
 humor. By-the-bye, all his stories were in some way national ; 
 and this gives me occasion to remark, that I think Ireland is 
 at this moment nearly as little known on many parts of the 
 
IRELAND LITTLE KNOWN ABROAD. 301 
 
 continent as it seems to have been then. I have myself heard 
 it more than once spoken of as an English town. 
 
 At Nancy, where Father O'Leary was travelling, his native 
 country happened to be mentioned ; when one of the socwte, a 
 quiet French farmer of Burgundy, asked in an unassuming 
 tone, " If Ireland stood encore V — " Encore /" said an aston- 
 ished John Bull courier, coining from Germany, " encore ! to be 
 sure she does : we have her yet, I assure you, monsieur." 
 " Though neither very safe nor very sound," interposed an 
 officer of the Irish brigade, who happened to be present, look- 
 ing over significantly at O'Leary, and not very complacently at 
 the courier. " And pray, monsieur," rejoined the John Bull 
 to the Frenchman, " wjiy encore V " Pardon, monsieur," re- 
 plied the Frenchman, u I heard it had been worn out {fatigue) 
 long ago by the great number of people that were living in it !" 
 
 The fact is, the Frenchman had been told, and really under- 
 stood, that Ireland was a large house 'where the English were 
 wont to send their idle vagabonds, and whence they were 
 drawn out again as they were wanted to fill the ranks of the 
 army : and (I speak from my own personal knowledge) in 
 some interior parts of the continent the existence of Ireland, 
 as a nation, is totally unknown, or it is at best considered as 
 about a match for Jersey, &c. On the seacoasts they are bet- 
 ter informed. This need not surprise us, when we have heard 
 of a native of St. Helena formerly (who never had been out of 
 the island), who seriously asked an English officer, " If there 
 were many landing-places in England V 
 
 Some ideas of the common Irish are so strange, and uttered 
 so unconsciously, that in the mouths of any other people they 
 might be justly considered profane. In those of my country- 
 men, however, such expressions are idiomatic, and certainly 
 spoken without the least idea of profanity. 
 
 The present Lord Ventry was considered, before his father's 
 death, the oldest heir apparent in the Irish peerage, to which 
 his father had been raised in 1800, in consequence of an ar- 
 rangement made with Lord Castlereath at the time of the 
 union. He had for many years been bed-ridden, and had ad- 
 vanced to a very great age latterly without any corresponding 
 
 16 
 
362 DEATH OF LORD ROSSMORE. 
 
 utility : yet little apprehensions were entertained of his speedy 
 dissolution. 
 
 A tenant on the estate, the stability of whose lease depended 
 entirely on the son surviving the father, and who was beginning 
 to doubt which of them might die of old age first, said seriously 
 to the heir apparent, but without the slightest idea of any sort 
 of impropriety, either as respected God or man : — 
 
 " Ah, then, Master Squire Mullins, isn't it mighty strange 
 that my poor ould landlord (Heaven preserve his noble lord- 
 ship !) should lie covered up in the bed all this time past? 
 I think, plase your honor, that it would be well done, to take 
 his lordship (Lord bless his honor !) up to the tip-top of Crow- 
 Patrick, and hold him up there as high as could be — just to 
 show his lordship a bit to the Virgin. For I'm sure, plase 
 your honor, if God Almighty hadn't quite forgotten his lord- 
 ship, he would have taken him home to himself long and many 
 a day ago." 
 
 DEATH OF LORD EOSSMORE. 
 
 Strictures on Dr. Johnson — His Biographer Boswell — False Definitions and Erroneous 
 Ethics — Superstition — Supernatural Appearances — Theological Argument of the Author 
 in Favor of his Peculiar Faith — Original Poetry by Miss T . . . — The Author purchases 
 Lady Mayo's Desmesne, County Wicklow — Terrific and Cultivated Scenery contrasted — 
 Description of the Golden Beltof Ireland, and the Beauties of the above-mentioned County 
 — Lord Rossmore — His Character — Supernatural Incident of a most Extraordinary Na- 
 ture, vouched by Living Witnesses, and Attendant on^the Sudden Death of his Lordship. 
 
 It is not pleasant to differ essentially from the general 
 opinions of the world, and nothing but a firm belief that we 
 are right can bear us up in so doing. I feel my own fallibility 
 poignantly, when I venture to remark upon the celebrated 
 personage 'yclept " the great moralist of England." 
 
 To criticise the labors of that giant of literature I am une- 
 qual : to detract from his ethics is not my object. But it surely 
 savors not of treason to avow that parts of his lexicon I con- 
 demn, and much of his philosophy I dissent from. 
 
 It is fortunate for the sake of truth that Boswell became 
 Johnson's biographer ; for, as the idolators of China devoutly 
 
STRICTURES ON DK. JOHNSON. 303 
 
 attach a full proportion of bad qualities to the object of their 
 adoration, so in like manner, he has shown no want of candor 
 as to the doctor's failings ; and it might have been still wiser 
 in him to have reflected on the unkind propensities of this 
 wicked world, by which reflection his eulogiums would proba- 
 bly have been rendered less fulsome, and his biography yet 
 more correct. 
 
 The English language had been advancing gradually in its 
 own jog-trot way from the days of Bayley to those of Johnson ; 
 it travelled over a plain, smooth surface, and on a gentle ascent. 
 Everybody formerly appear to understand each other tolerably 
 well : words were then very intelligible, and women, in general, 
 found no difficulty in pronouncing them. But the great lexi- 
 cographer soon convinced the British people (the Irish are out 
 of the question) that they had been reading, writing, and 
 spouting in a starved, contracted tongue, and that the magni- 
 ficent dassimibomiiy/us' of the Grecian language were ready in 
 polysyllables to relieve that wretched poverty under which 
 ours had so long languished. 
 
 This noble revolution in letters has made a progress so 
 rapid, that I found in one essay of a magazine, two or three 
 months ago, no fewer than twenty-four words which required 
 me to make as many references to our great lexicon. 
 
 Nobody can deny the miraculous labor which that work 
 must have required. Yet now, when enthusiasm has somewhat 
 abated, and no danger exists of being clapper-clawed by the 
 doctor himself, some ungrateful English grammarians have pre- 
 sumed to assert that, under the gaberdine of so great an au- 
 thority, anybody is lawfully entitled to coin any English word 
 he chooses out of any foreign language he thinks proper ; and 
 that we may thus tune up our vocabulary to the key of a 
 lingua franca, an assemblage of all tongues, sounds, and idioms, 
 dead or living. It has also been asserted, since his decease, 
 that the doctor's logic is frequently false in both premises and 
 conclusion, his ethics erroneous, his philosophy often unintelli- 
 gible, and his diction generally bombastic. However, there 
 are so many able and idle gentlemen of law, physic, and di- 
 vinity, amply educated, with pens stuck behind their ears 
 
364 DEATH OF LORD KOSSMOKE. 
 
 ready for action, and who arc much better skilled in the art 
 and practice of criticism than I am, that I shall content myself 
 with commenting on one solitary word out of forty thousand — 
 which word not only bears strongly on my own tenets and 
 faith, but also affects one of the most extraordinary occurrences 
 of my life. 
 
 This comprehensive and important word (which has upon 
 occasion puzzled me more than any other in the English lan- 
 guage) is " superstition" — whereof one of the definitions given 
 by the doctor, in his lexicon, appears to be rather inconsider- 
 ate, namely, " religion without morality." Now, I freely and 
 fully admit that I am sujierstitious ; yet I think it is rather 
 severe and somewhat singular in the doctor to admit my reli- 
 gion and extinguish my morality, which I always considered 
 as marching hand-in-hand. 
 
 When Dr. Johnson began to learn his own morality, does 
 not appear : I suppose not until he got an honorary degree 
 from the pedants of Oxford. Collegiate degrees in general, 
 however, work no great reformation, I am inclined to believe, 
 in morality : at least I am certain that when I became a doc- 
 tor of laws I did not feel my morals in the least improved by 
 my diploma.^ I wish the candid Boswell had mentioned the 
 precise epocha of the doctor's reformation (for he admits him 
 to have been a little wild in his youth), and then we might have 
 judged under what state of mind he adopted the definition. 
 
 For myself, I consider faith, grounded on the phenomena cf 
 nature (not the faith of sectarianism or fanaticism), as the true 
 source and foundation of morality, and morality as the true 
 source and foundation of religion. 
 
 No human demonstration can cope with that presented by 
 the face of nature. What proof so infallible as that. the sun 
 produces light, and heat, and vegetation 1* — that the tides ebb 
 
 * The following lines are by the young poetess whom I have before men- 
 tioned, and shall again allude to more fully: — 
 
 "The sun is in the empire of his light, 
 Throned in the mighty solitude of heaven: 
 He seems the visible Omnipotent 
 v Dwelling in glory : his high sanctuary 
 
 Do the eyes worship, and thereon, as if 
 
DEMONSTRATIONS OF A DEITY. 365 
 
 i 
 
 and flow — that the thunder rolls — that the lightning flashes 
 — that the planets shine?* Who can gaze on the vast orb of 
 day without feeling that it is the visible demonstration of a 
 superior Being, convincing our reason and our senses, and even 
 the scanty reason of illiterate savages ? 
 
 It is foreign from the intention of this work to dilate on the- 
 oretical subjects of any kind ; suffice it to say that the follow- 
 ing are simply my own sentiments, which I must be permitted 
 to retain, and which, indeed, nothing on this side the grave 
 can shake. 
 
 The omnipotence of the Deity in our creation and destruc- 
 tion — in the union and separation of our bodies and souls — 
 and in rendering the latter responsible for the acts of the for- 
 
 Impiety to gaze, the senses reel, 
 
 Drunk with the spirit of his deep refulgence. 
 
 Circle of glory! — Diadem of heaven! 
 
 Cast in the mould of bright eternity, 
 
 And bodying forth the attributes of Him 
 
 Who made thee of this visible world supreme, 
 
 And thou becamest a wonder and a praise — 
 
 A worship — yea, a pure idolatry ! 
 
 The image of the glories of our God." 
 
 * The reader may deem it curious to compare the two following para- 
 phrases: the first graced with the great name, as author, of Mr. Addison; 
 the second the performance of my accomplished young friend, and extracted 
 from her commonplace-book, without any opportunity given for revision: — 
 
 "on the planets. 
 
 "The spacious firmament on high, 
 With all the blue ethereal sky, 
 And spangled heavens — a shining frame! — 
 Their great Oiiginal proclaim. 
 In Reason's ear they all rejoice, 
 And utter forth a glorious voice ; 
 For ever singing, as they shine, 
 'The hand that made us is divine !'" 
 
 " Ye living fires in yon eternal dome — 
 Ye lamps, whose light is immortality — 
 Hung forth in mercy from our Father's house, 
 As beacon-lights to guide us to our God! 
 Ye are ordained man's faithful monitors, 
 Gazing like heavenly eyes upon our deeds, 
 Till Guilt is awed and shrinks beneath your glance. 
 Ye bright and visible rewards, held forth 
 From God's high sanctuary, to work in us 
 A pure ambition for eternal things, 
 And glories which our spirit heaves to grasp !" 
 
366 DEATH OF LOUD ROSSMORE. 
 
 mer — no Christian denies: and if the Deity be thus omnipo- 
 tent in forming, destroying, uniting, separating, and judging, 
 he must be equally omnipotent in reproducing that spirit and 
 that form which he created, and which remain subject to his 
 will, and always in his power. 
 
 It follows, therefore, that the omnipotent Creator may at 
 will reproduce that spirit which he reserves for future judg- 
 ment, or the semblance of that body which once contained the 
 undecaying soul. The smallest atom which floats in the sun- 
 beam can not (as everybody knows), from the nature of matter, 
 be actually annihilated : death consequently only decomposes 
 the materials whereof our bodies are formed, which materials 
 are obviously susceptible of being recombined. The Christian 
 tenets maintain that the soul and body must appear for judg- 
 ment, and why not before judgment — if so willed by the Al- 
 mighty 1 The main argument which I have heard against 
 such appearances tends nearly as much to mislead as a general 
 disbelief or denial of omnipotence — namely, that though this 
 power may exist in the Deity, he never would permit such spec- 
 tacles on the earth, to terrify the timorous, and give occasion 
 to paltering with the credulity of his creatures. 
 
 It is truly surprising how rational men can resort to these 
 methods of reasoning. When we admit the omnipotence, we 
 are bound likewise to admit the omniscience, of the Deity ; 
 and presumptuous indeed must that man be who overlooks the 
 contractedness of his own intellectual vision, or asserts that, 
 because he can not see a reason for a supernatural interference, 
 none therefore can exist in the eye of the Supreme. 
 
 The objects of God are inscrutable : an appearance of the 
 departed upon the earth may have consequences which none — 
 not even those who are affected by it — can either discover or sup- 
 pose.* Can any human wisdom presume to divine why man was 
 originally created at all % why one man is cut short in high, 
 blooming health and youth, and another lingers long in age 
 
 * Nothing in print places my theory in so distinct, clear, and pleasing a 
 point of view, as Parnell's "Hermit" — a strong, moral, and impressive tale 
 — beautiful in poetry, and abounding in instruction. There the omniscience 
 of God is exemplified by human incidents, and the mysterious causes of his 
 actions brought home to the commonest capacity. The moral of that short 
 
BELIEF IN SUPERNATURAL OCCURRENCES. 367 
 
 and decrepitude ? why the best of men are frequently the most 
 unfortunate, and the greatest villains the most prosperous ? 
 why the heinous criminal escapes in triumph, and the innocent 
 being is destroyed by torture 1 And is the production of a 
 supernatural appearance, for the inscrutable purposes of God, 
 more extraordinary, or less credible, than these other ordina- 
 tions of the Deity, or than all those unaccountable phenomena 
 of nature, which are only — as the rising and setting sun — 
 disregarded by common minds, from the frequency of their 
 occurrence ? 
 
 This is a subject whereon I feel strongly and seriously, and 
 hence it is that I have been led into so long an exordium. I 
 regard the belief in supernatural apparitions as inseparable 
 from my Christian faith and my view of Divine Omnipotence ; 
 and however good and learned individuals may possibly im- 
 pugn my reasoning, I have the consolation of knowing that 
 the very best and wisest doctors in divinity and masters of 
 arts in the British empire can have no better or truer informa- 
 tion upon the subject than myself; that I am as much in my 
 senses as many of them ; and that the Deity has made no sort 
 of distinction between the intellectual capacity of a bishop 
 and a j^dge : the secrets of heaven are not divulged to either 
 of them. The judge does justice to other people, and the 
 bishop does justice to himself : both are equally ignorant of 
 the mysteries of futurity, and must alike wait until they pass 
 the dim boundary of the grave, to gain airy practical informa- 
 tion. When a military captain is ordained a clergyman, as is 
 somewhat the fashion during the peace establishment, does he 
 become one atom wiser or more knowing as to the next world 
 
 and simple tale says more than a hundred volumes of dogmatic controver- 
 sies ! The following couplets appear to me extremely impressive : — 
 
 "The Maker justly claims that world he made: 
 In this the right of Providence is laid : 
 Its sacred majesty, through all, depends 
 On using second means to work its ends. 
 
 " "What strange events can strike with more surprise 
 Than those which lately struck thy wondering eyes? 
 Yet, taught by these, confess the Almighty just; 
 And where you can't unriddle, learn to trust." 
 
368 DEATH OF LOKD ROSSMORE. 
 
 than when he was in the army % Probably, on the other hand, 
 he thinks much less about the matter than when standing upon 
 the field of battle. 
 
 I would not have the reader imagine that I should be found 
 ready to receive any idle ghost-story which might be told me. 
 So far contrary, I have always been of opinion that no inci- 
 dent or appearance (and I have expressed as much before in 
 this work), however strange, should be considered as supernat- 
 ural which could any liow be otherwise accounted for, or re- 
 ferred to natural or human agency. 
 
 I will proceed at once to the little narrative thus impor- 
 tantly prefaced. The circumstances will, I think, be admitted 
 as of an extraordinary nature : they were not connected with 
 the workings of imagination ; depended not on the fancy of a 
 single individual : the occurrence was, altogether, both in its 
 character and in its possible application, far beyond the spec- 
 ulations of man. But let me endeavor to soften and prepare 
 my mind for the strange recital by some more pleasing recol- 
 lections connected with the principal subject of it. 
 
 Immediately after the rebellion of 1798, the countess dowa- 
 ger of Mayo discovered a man concealed under her bred, and 
 was so terrified that she instantly fled from her country resi- 
 dence in the most beautiful part of County Wicklow : she 
 departed for Dublin, whence she immediately sailed for Eng- 
 land, and never after returned. Her ladyship directed her 
 agent (Mr. Davis) immediately to dispose of her residence, 
 demesne, and everything within the house and on the grounds, 
 for whatever they might bring. All property in the disturbed 
 districts being then of small comparative value, and there 
 having been a battle fought at Mount Kennedy, near her 
 house, a short time previous, I purchased the whole estate, as 
 it stood, at a very moderate price, and on the ensuing day was 
 put into possession of my new mansion. I found a house not 
 large, but very neat and in good order, with a considerable 
 quantity of furniture, some excellent wines, &c. and the lands 
 in full produce. The demesne was not extensive, but delight- 
 fully situated in a district which, I believe, for the union of 
 rural beauties and mild uniformity of climate, few spots can 
 excel. 
 
THE GOLDEN BELT OF IRELAND. 369 
 
 Iliave already disclaimed all pretensions, as a writer, to the 
 power of scenic description or imaginary landscape — though 
 no person existing is more gratified than myself with the con- 
 templation of splendid scenery ; in saying this, however, I do 
 not mean that savage sublimity of landscape — that majestic 
 assemblage of stupendous mountain and roaring cataract — of 
 colossal rocks and innumerable precipices — where Nature ap- y 
 pears to designate to the bear and the eagle, to the boar or 
 chamois, those tracts, which she originally created for their 
 peculiar accommodation : to- the enthusiastic sketcher and the 
 high-wrought tourist I yield an exclusive right to those inter- 
 esting regions, which are far too sublime for my ordinary pencil. 
 I own that I prefer that luxurious scenery where the art and 
 industry of man go hand in hand with the embellishments of 
 nature, and where Providence, smiling, combines her blessings 
 with her beauties. 
 
 Were I asked to exemplify my ideas of rural, animated, 
 cheering landscape, I should say — "My friend, travel! — 
 visit that narrow region which we call the golden belt of Ire- 
 land ;* explore every league from the metropolis to the meet- 
 ing of the waters : journey which way you please, you will 
 find the native myrtle and indigenous arbutus, glowing through- 
 out the severest winter, and forming the ordinary cottage 
 fence. 
 
 The scenery of Wicklow is doubtless on a very minor scale, 
 quite unable to compete with the grandeur and immensity of 
 continental landscape : even to our own Killarney it is not 
 comparable ; but ic possesses a genial glowing luxury, whereof 
 more elevated scenery is often destitute. It is, besides, in the 
 world : its beauties seem alive. It blooms : it blossoms : the 
 mellow climate extracts from every shrub a tribute of fragrance 
 wherewith the atmosphere is saturated, and through such a 
 
 * That lovely district extends about thirty miles in length, and from four 
 to seven in breadth: it commences near Dublin, and ends at a shortdistance 
 beyond Avondale : the soil is generally a warm gravel, with verdant val- 
 leys, bounded by mountains arable to their summits on one side, and by 
 the sea upon the other. The gold mine is on a frontier of this district : and 
 it is perhaps the most congenial to the growth of trees and shrubs, of any 
 spot in the British dominions. 
 
 16* 
 
610 DEATH OF LOUD EOSSMORE. 
 
 medium does the refreshing rain descend to brighten the hues 
 of the evergreens ! 
 
 I frankly admit myself an enthusiast as to that lovely dis- 
 trict. In truth, I fear I should have been enthusiastic on many 
 points, had not law, the most powerful antidote to that feeling 
 interposed to check its growth. 
 
 The site of my sylvan residence, Dunran, was nearly in 
 the centre of the golden belt, about fifteen miles from the capi- 
 tal ; but owing to the varied nature of the country, it appeared 
 far more distant. Bounded by the beautiful glen of the downs, 
 at the foot of the magnificent Bellevue, and the more distant 
 sugar-loaf mountain called the Dangle, together with Tynne- 
 hinch (less celebrated for its unrivalled scenery than as the 
 residence of Ireland's first patriot), the dark deep glen, the 
 black lake and mystic vale of Lugelough, contrasted quite 
 magically with the highly-cultivated beauties of Dunran : (the 
 parks, and wilds, and sublime cascade of Powerscourt, and 
 the newly-created magnificence of Mount Kennedy, abundantly 
 prove that perfection itself may exist in contrasts ) : in fine I 
 found myself enveloped by the hundred beauties of that en- 
 chanting district, which, though of one family, were rendered 
 yet more attractive by the variety of their features : and had 
 I not been tied to laborious duties, I should infallibly have 
 sought refuge there altogether from the cares of the world. 
 
 One of the greatest pleasures I enjoyed while resident at 
 Dunran, was the near abode of the late Lord Rossmore, at that 
 time commander-in-chief in Ireland. His lordship knew my 
 father, and, from my commencement in public life, had been 
 my friend, and a sincere one. He was a Scotsman born, but 
 had come to Ireland when very young, as page to the lord- 
 lieutenant. He had married an heiress ; had purchased the 
 estate of Mount Kennedy ; built a noble mansion ; laid out 
 some of the finest gardens in Ireland ; and, in fact, improved 
 the demesne, as far as taste, skill, and money, could accom- 
 plish. He was what may be called a remarbably fine old 
 man, quite the gentleman, and when at Mount Kennedy quite 
 the country gentleman. He lived in a style few people can 
 attain to : his table, supplied by his own farms, were adapted 
 
EXTRAORDINARY SUPERNATURAL INCIDENT. 371 
 
 to the viceroy himself, yet was ever spread for his neighbors : 
 in a word, no man ever kept a more even hand in society, than 
 Lord Rossmore, and no man was ever better repaid by uni- 
 versal esteem. Had his connections possessed his understand- 
 ing, and practised his habits, they would probably have found 
 more friends when they wanted them. 
 
 This intimacy at Mount Kennedy gave rise to an occurrence 
 the most extraordinary and inexplicable of my whole existence 
 — an occurrence which for many years occupied my thoughts, 
 and wrought on my imagination. Lord Rossmore was ad- 
 vanced in years, but I never heard of his having had a single 
 day's indisposition. He bore, in his green old age, the ap- 
 pearance of robust health. During the viceroyalty of Earl 
 Hardwick, Lady Barrington, at a clraAving-room at Dublin cas- 
 tle, met Lord Rossmore. He had been making up one of his 
 weekly parties, for Mount Kennedy, to commence the next 
 day, and "had sent down orders for every preparation to be 
 made. The lord-lieutenant was to be of the company. 
 
 " My little farmer," said he to Lady Barrington, addressing 
 her by a pet name, " when you go home, tell Sir Jonah that 
 no business is to prevent him from bringing you down to dine 
 with me to-morrow. I will have no ifs in the matter — so tell 
 him that come he must /" She promised positively, and on 
 her return informed me of her engagement, to which I at once 
 agreed. We retired to our chamber about twelve ; and toward 
 two in the morning, I was awakened by a sound of a very ex- 
 traordinary nature. I listened; it occurred first at short inter- 
 vals ; it resembled neither a voice nor an instrument ; it was 
 softer than any voice and wilder than any music, and seemed 
 to float in the air. I don't know wherefore, but my heart beat 
 forcibly: the sound became still more plaintive, till it almost 
 died away in the air ; when a sudden change, as if excited by 
 a pang, changed its tone : it seemed descending. I felt every 
 nerve tremble ; it was not a natural sound, nor could I make 
 out the point whence it came. 
 
 At length I awakened Lady Barrington, who heard it as 
 well as myself; she suggested that it might be an Eolian harp 
 — but to that instrument it bore no similitude : it was altogeth- 
 
372 DEATH OF LORD ROSSMORE. 
 
 er a different character of sound. My wife at first appeared 
 less affected than I ; but subsequently sue was more so. 
 
 We now went to a large window in our bedroom wliicl? 
 looked directly upon a small garden underneath : the sound 
 seemed then obviously to ascend from a grass-plot immediately 
 below our window. It continued ; Lady Barrington requested 
 that I would call up her maid, which I did, and she was evi- 
 dently more affected than either of us. The sounds lasted for 
 more than half an hour. At last a deep, heavy, throbbing sigh 
 seemed to issue from the spot, and was shortly succeeded by 
 a sharp but low cry, and by the distinct exclamation, thrice 
 repeated, of " Rossmore — Rossmore — Rossmore !" I will not 
 attempt to describe my own feelings ; indeed I can not. The 
 maid fled in terror from the window, and it was with difficulty 
 I prevailed on Lady Barrington to return to bed ; in about a 
 minute after, the sound died gradually away, until all was 
 silent. 
 
 Lady Barrington, who is not so superstitious as I, attributed 
 this circumstance to a hundred different causes, and made me 
 promise that I would not mention it next day at Mount Ken- 
 nedy, since we should be thereby rendered laughing-stocks. 
 At length, wearied with speculations, we fell into a sound 
 slumber. 
 
 About seven the ensuing morning a strong rap at my cham- 
 ber door aAvakened me. The recollection of the past night's 
 adventure rushed instantly upon my mind, and rendered me 
 very unfit to be taken suddenly on any subject. It was light : 
 I went to the door, when my faithful servant, Lawler, ex- 
 claimed on the other side, "Oh Lord, sir!" — "What is the 
 matter?" said I, hurriedly: "Oh, sir !" ejaculated he, "Lord 
 Kossmore's footman was running past the door in great haste, 
 and told me in passing that my lord, after coming from the 
 castle, had gone to bed in perfect health, but that about half 
 after two this morning, his own man hearing a noise in his 
 master's bed (he slept in the same room), went to him, and 
 found him in the agonies of death ; and before he could alarm 
 the other servants, all was over!" 
 
 I conjecture nothing. I only relate the incident as unequiv- 
 
LADY MORGANS " WILD IRISH GIRL. 373 
 
 ocally matter of fact ; Lord Rossmore was absolutely dying at 
 tJie moment I heard Ms name pronounced. Let skeptics draw 
 their own conclusions ; perhaps natural causes may be assigned ; 
 but 1 am totally unequal to the task. 
 
 Atheism may ridicule me : Orthodoxy may despise me : 
 Bigotry may lecture me : Fanaticism might burn me : yet in 
 my very faitli I would seek consolation. It is in my mind 
 better to believe too much than too little, and that is the only 
 theological crime of which I can be fairly accused. 
 
 MEMORANDA CEITIOA. 
 
 Remarks on Lady Morgan's Novel of " The Wild Irish Girl," &c. — Prince O'Sullivan at 
 Killarney — Miss Edgworth's " Castle Rackrent" — Memoir of Jonathan Clerk — " Florence 
 Macarthy" — Comparison between Lady Morgan and Thomas Moore as Writers — The 
 Author's Knowledge of Both — " Captain Rock" condemned — The " Irish Melodies" by 
 Moore and Power — The Harmonizing of Them by Sir John Stevenson injurious to the 
 National Music — Anecdote of Mr. Thomas Moore and Mrs. K . . . y. 
 
 It is remarkable that the state of the Irish people, in its 
 various gradations of habit and society, has been best illustrated 
 by two female authors, the one of more imaginative, the other 
 of purer narrative powers : but each, in her respective lines, pos- 
 sessing very considerable merit. 
 
 Though a fiction, not free from numerous inaccuracies inap- 
 propriate dialogue, and forced incident, it is impossible to 
 peruse the "Wild Irish Girl," of Lady Morgan without deep 
 interest, or to dispute its claims as a production of true national 
 feeling as well as literary talent. 
 
 The tale was the first and is perhaps the best of all her wri- 
 tings. Compared with her " Ida of Athens," it strikingly ex- 
 hibits the author' 's falling off from the unsophisticated dictates 
 of nature to the less-refined conceptions induced by what she 
 herself styles fashionable society. 
 
 To persons unacquainted with Ireland, the " Wild Irish 
 Girl" may appear an ordinary tale of romance and fancy : but 
 to such as understand the ancient history of that people, it 
 may be considered as a delightful legend. The authoress 
 
374 MEMORANDA CRITIC A. 
 
 might perhaps have had somewhat in view the last descendant 
 of the Irish princes, who did not altogether forget the station 
 of his forefathers. 
 
 0' Sullivan, lineally descended from the king of the lakes, 
 not many years since vegetated on a retired spot of his hered- 
 itary dominions at Killarney ; and, though overwhelmed hy 
 poverty and deprivation, kept np in his mind a visionary dig- 
 nity. Surveying from his wretched cottage that enchanting 
 territory over which his ancestors had reigned for centuries, I 
 have been told he never ceased to recollect his royal descent. 
 He was a man of gigantic stature and strength ; of uncouth, yet 
 authoritative mien — not shajning his pretensions by his pres- 
 ence. He was frequently visited by those who went to view 
 the celebrated lakes, and I have conversed with many who 
 have seen him : but at a period when familiar intercourse has 
 been introduced between actual princes and their subjects, 
 tending undoubtedly to diminish in the latter the sense of 
 " that divinity which doth hedge a king,*' the poor descendant 
 of that renowned O'Sullivan had no reason to expect much 
 commiseration from modern sensibility. 
 
 The frequent and strange revolutions of the world within the 
 last forty years — the radical alterations in all the material 
 habits of society — announced the commencement of a new 
 era : and the ascendency of commerce over rank, and of ava- 
 rice over everything, completed the regeneration. But, above 
 all, the loosening of those ties which bound kindred and fami- 
 lies, in one common interest, to uphold their race and name — 
 the extinction of that spirit of chivalry which sustained those 
 ties — and the common prostitution of the heraldic honors of 
 antiquity — have steeled the human mind against the lofty and 
 noble pretensions of birth and rank ; and while we superficially 
 decry the principle of equality, we are travelling toward them 
 by the shortest and most dangerous road that degeneracy and 
 meanness can point out. 
 
 I confess myself to be a determined enemy at once to politi- 
 cal and social equality. In the exercise of justice alone should 
 the principle exist ; in any other sense, it never did and never 
 can, for any length of time. 
 
LADY MORGAN AND MISS EDGEWORTH. 375 
 
 Miss Edg-e worth's " Castle Rackrent" and '*■ Fashionable 
 Tales" are incomparable in depicting truly several traits of 
 the rather modern Irish character : they are perhaps on one 
 point somewhat overcharged ; but, for the most part, may be 
 said to exceed Lady Morgan's Irish novels. The fiction is less 
 perceptible in them : they have a greater air of reality — of 
 what I have myself often and often observed and noted in full 
 progress and actual execution throughout my native country. 
 The landlord, the agent, and the attorney, of " Castle Rack- 
 rent" (in fact, every person it describes) are neither fictitious 
 nor even uncommon characters : and the changes of landed 
 property in the country where I was born (where perhaps they 
 have prevailed to the full as widely as in any other of the Uni- 
 ted Empire) owed, in nine cases out of ten, their origin, prog- 
 ress, and catastrophe, to incidents in no wise differing from 
 those so accurately painted in Miss Edgeworth's narrative. 
 
 Though moderate fortunes have frequently and fairly been 
 realized by agents, yet, to be on the sure side of comfort and 
 security, a country-gentleman who wishes to send down his 
 estate in tolerably good order to his family should always be 
 his own receiver, and compromise any claim rather than employ 
 an attorney to arrange it. 
 
 I recollect to have seen in Queen's county a Mr. Clerk, who 
 had been a working carpenter ; and, when making a bench for 
 the session-justices at the courthouse, was laughed at for taking 
 peculiar pains in planing and smoothing the seat of it. He 
 smilingly observed that he did so to make it easy for himself, 
 as he was resolved he would never die till he had a right to 
 sit thereupon : and he kept his word. He was an industrious 
 man, and became an agent ; honest, respectable, and kind- 
 hearted, he succeeded in all his efforts to accumulate an inde- 
 pendence : he did accumulate it, and uprightly ; his character 
 kept pace with the increase of his property, and he lived to sit 
 as a magistrate on that very bench that he sawed and planed. 
 
 I will not quit the subject without saying a word about an- 
 other of Lady Morgan's works — " Florence Macarthy," which, 
 u errors excepted," possesses an immensity of talent in the de- 
 lineation of the genuine Irish character. The different judges 
 
376 MEMORANDA CRITIC A. 
 
 no one can mistake ; but the Crawleys are superlative, and 
 suffice to bring before my vision, in their full coloring, and al- 
 most without a variation, persons and incidents whom and 
 which I have many times encountered. Nothing is exagger- 
 ated as to them ; and Crawley himself is the perfect and plain 
 model of the combined agent, attorney, and magistrate — a sort 
 of mongrel functionary whose existence I have repeatedly rep- 
 robated, and whom I pronounce to be at this moment the great- 
 est nuisance and mischief experienced by my unfortunate coun- 
 try, and only to be abated by the residence of the great land- 
 lords on their estates. No people under heaven could be so 
 easily tranquillized and governed as the Irish ; but that desi- 
 rable end is alone attainable by the personal endeavors of a 
 liberal, humane, and resident aristocracy. 
 
 A third writer on Ireland I allude to with more pride on 
 some points, and with less pleasure on others ; because, though 
 dubbed, par excellence, " The bard of Ireland," I have not yet 
 seen many literary productions of his, especially on national 
 subjects, that have afforded me an unalloyed feeling of grati- 
 fication. 
 
 He must not be displeased with the observations of perhaps 
 a truer friend than those who have led him to forget himself. 
 His " Captain Rock" (though, I doubt not, well intended), 
 coming at the time it did, and under the sanction of his name, 
 is the most exceptionable publication, in all its bearings as to 
 Ireland, that I have yet seen. Doctor Beattie says, in his 
 "Apology for Religion," "if it does no good, it can do no 
 harm ;" but, on the contrary, if " Captain Rock" does no harm, 
 it can certainly do no good. 
 
 Had it been addressed to, or calculated for, the better or- 
 ders, the book would have been less noxious : but it is not cal- 
 culated to instruct those whose influence, example, or residence, 
 could either amend or reform the abuses which the author cer- 
 tainly exaggerates. It is not calculated to remedy the great 
 and true cause of Irish ruin — the absenteeism of the great 
 landed proprietors : so much the reverse, it is directly adapted 
 to increase and confirm the real grievance, by scaring every 
 landlord who retains a sense of personal danger (and I know 
 
THOMAS MOORE AND LADY MORGAN. 377 
 
 none of them who are exempt from abundance of it) from re- 
 turning to a country where " Captain Rock" is proclaimed by 
 " the bard of Ireland" to be an. immortal sovereign. The work 
 is, in fact, a warm effusion of party, not a firm remonstrance 
 of patriotism. It is a work better fitted for vulgar eclat than 
 for rational approbation. Its effects were not calculated on ; 
 and it appears to me, in itself, to offer one of the strongest ar- 
 guments against bestowing on the lower orders in Ireland the 
 power of reading. 
 
 Perhaps I write warmly myself: I write not, however, for 
 distracted cottagers, but for proprietors and legislators ; and I 
 have endeavored honestly to express my unalterable convic- 
 tion that it is by encouraging, conciliating, reattaching, and 
 recalling the higher, and not by confusing and inflaming the 
 lower orders of society, that Ireland can be renovated. 
 
 Most undoubtedly Mr. Thomas Moore and Lady Morgan are 
 among the most distinguished modern writers of our country : 
 indeed, I know of none (except Miss Edgeworth) who has at 
 present a right to compete with either, in his or her respective 
 department. 
 
 But I can never repeat too often that I am not a critic, al- 
 though I choose to speak my mind strongly and freely. I 
 hope neither my friend Moore nor her ladyship will be dis- 
 pleased at my stating thus candidly my opinion of their pub- 
 lic characters : they would perhaps scout me as an adulator 
 Avere I to tell them what I thought of their private ones. I 
 dare say some of the periodical-writers will announce that my 
 telling the world I am a very inefficient critic is a mere work 
 of supererogation. At any rate, it must be owned that making 
 the confession in advance is to the full as creditable as leaving 
 the thing to be stated for me. 
 
 In concluding my rambling estimate of the merits of these 
 two justly-celebrated authors, let me bear in mind that they 
 are of different sexes, and recollect the peculiar attributes of 
 cither. • 
 
 Both of them are alike unsparing in their use of the bold 
 language of liberty : but Lady Morgan has improved her ideas 
 of freedom by contrasts on the European continent ; while 
 
378 MEMORANDA CRITICA. 
 
 Thomas Moore lias not improved his by the exemplification of 
 freedom in America. Lady Morgan has succeeded in adulter- 
 ating her refinement ; Thomas Moore unsuccessfully endeav- 
 ored to refine his grossness. She has abundant talent ; he has 
 abundant genius : and whatsoever distinction those terms ad- 
 mit of, indicates, in my mind, their relative merit. This allow- 
 ance, however, must be made — that the lady has contented 
 herself with invoking only substantial beings and things of 
 this sublunary world, while the gentleman has ransacked both 
 heaven and hell, and " the half-way house," for figurative as- 
 sistance. 
 
 I knew them both before they had acquired any celebrity, 
 and after they had attained to much. I esteemed them then, 
 and have no reason to disesteem them now : it is on their own 
 account that I wish some of the compositions of both had never 
 appeared ; and I really believe, upon due consideration, they 
 will themselves be of my way of thinking. 
 
 I recollect Moore being one night at my house in Merrion 
 square, during the spring of his celebrity, touching the piano- 
 forte, in his own unique way, to " Rosa," his favorite amatory 
 sonnet ; his head leant back ; now throwing up his ecstatic 
 eyes to heaven, as if to invoke refinement — then casting them 
 softly sidewise, and breathing out his chromatics to elevate, as 
 the ladies said, their souls above the world, but at the same 
 moment convincing them that they were completely mortal. 
 
 A Mrs. K . . . y, a lady then d'age mur, but moving in the 
 best society of Ireland, sat on a chair behind Moore : I watched 
 her profile : her lips quavered in unison with the piano ; a sort 
 of amiable convulsion, now and then' raising the upper from 
 the under lip, composed a smile less pleasing than expressive ; 
 her eye softened, glazed — and half-melting she whispered to 
 herself the following words, which I, standing at the back of 
 her chair, could not avoid hearing: — "Dear, dear!" lisped 
 Mrs. K. . . . y, " Moore, this is not for the good of my soul /" 
 
 Almost involuntarily, I ejaculated in the same low tone — 
 " What is not, Mrs. K . . . y V 
 
 "You know well enough!" she replied (but without blush- 
 ing, as people used to do formerly), " how can you ask so silly 
 
MOORE's IRISH MELODIES. 379 
 
 a question ?" and she turned into the crowd, but never came 
 near the piano again that night. 
 
 I greatly admire the national, indeed patriotic idea, of col- 
 lecting and publishing the Irish Melodies ; and it were to be 
 wished that some of them had less the appearance of having 
 been written j^>er annum* 
 
 Sir John Stevenson, that celebrated warbler, has melodized 
 a good many of these ; but certainly has also melo-dramatized 
 a considerable portion of them. I think our rants and planxties 
 would have answered just as well without either symphonies or 
 chromatics, and that the plaintive national music of- Ireland 
 does not reach the heart a moment the sooner for passing 
 through a mob of scientific variations. Tawdry and modern 
 upholstery would not be very appropriate to the ancient tower 
 of an Irish chieftain ; and some of Sir John's proceedings in 
 melodizing simplicity, remind me of the Rev. Mark Hare, who 
 whitewashed the great rock of Oashell to give it a genteel 
 appearance against the visitation. 
 
 As I do not attempt (I suppose I ought to say presume) to be 
 a literary, so am I far less a musical critic : but I know what 
 pleases myself, and in that species of criticism I can not be 
 expected to yield to anybody. 
 
 As to my own authorship, I had business more important 
 than writing books in my early life : but now, in my old days, 
 it is my greatest amusement, and nothing would give me more 
 satisfaction than hearing the free remarks of the critics on my 
 productions. 
 
 *I allude to the public trial as to copyright, by Mr. Power, when it was 
 stated that Mr. Moore wrote the Melodies for so much a year. They are 
 certainly very unequal. 
 
380 MEMORANDA POETICA. 
 
 MEMORANDA* POETIC A. 
 
 Poets and Poetasters — Major Roche's Extraordinary Poem on the Battle of Waterloo — 
 "Tears of the British Muse" — French Climax of Love — A Man's Age discovered by hi3 
 Poetry — Evils of a Motto — Amorous Feelings of Youth — Love Verses of a Boy ; of a 
 Young Man — " Loves of the Angels" — Dinner Verses of an Oxonian — "The Highlander," 
 a Poem — Extracts from the Poetical Manuscripts of Miss T . . . n, &c. 
 
 There can not be a juster aphorism than " Poeta nascitur, 
 non fit;" the paucity of those literary productions which 
 deserve the epithet of poetry, compared with the thousand 
 volumes of what rhyming authors call poems, forms a conclu- 
 sive illustration. 
 
 A true poet lives for ever ; a poetaster, just till another re- 
 lieves him in the circulating libraries, or on the toilets of young 
 ladies — used to keep them awake at night and send them to 
 sleep in the morning. 
 
 There may possibly be three degrees of excellence in true 
 poetry, but certainly no more. A fourth-rate poet must be, in 
 my idea, a mere forger of rhymes ; a manufacturer of versifi- 
 cation : but if he minds his prosody, and writes in a style 
 either vastly interesting, immensely tender, or delightfully 
 luxurious, he will probably find readers among the fair sex 
 from fifteen to forty-five. 
 
 Major Roche, an Irishman, who, in 1S15, printed and pub- 
 lished at Paris a full and true hexameter account of the great 
 battle of Waterloo, with his own portrait emblazoned in the 
 front, and the duke of Wellington's in the rear, must certainly 
 be held to exceed in ingenuity all the poets and poetasters 
 great and small of the present generation. 
 
 The alphabetical printed list of subscribers to his work set 
 forth the name of every emperor, king, prince, nobleman, gen- 
 eral, minister, and diplomatist — Russian, Prussian, Austrian, 
 German, Dutch, English, Irish, Don, Cossack, &c, &c. Such 
 an imperial, royal, and every way magnificent list was never 
 before, nor ever will be again, appended to any poem, civil, 
 political, military, religious, or scientific : and as the major 
 thought very truly that a book so patronized and garnished 
 
WELLINGTON AS MAKS ON HORSEBACK. 381 
 
 must be worth at least fifty times as much as any other poem 
 of the same dimensions, he stated that " a few copies might still 
 be procured at two guineas each." He succeeded admirably, 
 and I believe got more money at Paris than any one of the 
 army did at Waterloo. 
 
 His introduction of the duke of Wellington was well worth 
 the money : he described his grace as Mars on horseback 
 (new !) riding helter-skelter, and charging fiercely over every- 
 thing in his headlong course ; friends and foes, men, women, 
 and children, having no chance of remaining perpendicular if 
 they crossed his way ; his horse's hoofs striking flames of fire 
 even out of the regimental buttons of the dead bodies which 
 he galloped over ! while swords, muskets, spears, and cuirasses, 
 pounded down by his trampling steed, formed as it were a 
 turnpike road, whereupon he seemed to fly in his endeavors to 
 catch Bonaparte. 
 
 I really think Major Roche's idea of making Lord Welling- 
 ton Mars, was a much better one than that of making him 
 Achilles, as they have done at Hyde Park corner. Paris 
 found out the weak point of Achilles, and finished him : but 
 Mars is immortal ; and though Diomed knocked him down, 
 neither his carcass nor character is a jot the worse. Besides, 
 though Achilles killed Hector, it was not Lord Wellington 
 who killed Bonaparte. 
 
 A remark of mine which, though of no value, is, however, 
 rather a curious one, I can not omit — namely, that every man 
 who has been in the habit of scribbling rhyme of any descrip- 
 tion, involuntarily betrays his age by the nature of his com- 
 position. The truth of this observation I will endeavor to 
 illustrate by quotations from some jingling couplets written at 
 different periods of life by a friend of mine, merely to show the 
 strange and gradual transitions and propensities of the human 
 mind from youth to maturity, and from maturity to age. I 
 was brought up at a school where jDoetry was cultivated, 
 whether the soil would bear a crop or not: I early got, how- 
 ever, somehow or other, an idea of what it was, which boys in 
 general at that age never think of. But I had no practical 
 genius, and never set for it. Our second master, the son of 
 
382 MEMORANDA FOETICA. 
 
 the principal one, was a parson, and as lie thought, a poet, and 
 wrote a thing called " The Tears of the British Muse," which 
 we were all obliged to purchase, and repeat once a month. 
 In fact, of all matters, prosody was most assiduously whipped 
 into us. 
 
 Love is the first theme of all the poets in the world. 
 Though the French do not understand that matter a bit better 
 than other folks, yet their language certainly expresses amatory 
 ideas far more comprehensively than ours. In talking of love 
 they do not speak of refinement : I never knew a Frenchwoman 
 tie them together fast : their terms of gradation are — l'amour 
 natural, bien sensible, tres fort, a son gout, superbe ; forming the 
 climax with pas necessaire encore : this classing of the passion 
 with the palate, is certainly a very simple mode of defining 
 one of its varieties. 
 
 The state of the feelings and propensities of men is regulated 
 by the amount of their years (ladies in general stick to their 
 text longest). In early youth, poetry flows- from natural sen- 
 sations ; and at this period verses in general have much mod- 
 esty, much feeling, and a visible struggle to keep in with 
 refinement. 
 
 In the next degree of age, which runs quite close upon the 
 former, the scene nevertheless sadly alters. We then see plain 
 amatory sonnets turning poor refinement out of company, and 
 showing that it was not so very pure as we had reason to sup- 
 pose. Next comes that stage wherein sensualists, wits, ballad- 
 singers, gourmands, experienced lovers, and most kinds of 
 poetasters, male and female, give their varieties. All the 
 organs of craniology swell up in the brain and begin to prepare 
 themselves for development : this is rather a lasting stage, and 
 gently glides into, and amalgamates with the final one, filled 
 by satirists, psalmists, epigrammatists, and other specimens of 
 antiquity and ill-nature. But I fancy this latter must be a 
 very unproductive line of versification for the writer, as few 
 ladies ever read such things till after they begin to wear spec- 
 tacles. Few persons like to see themselves caricatured ; and 
 the moment a lady is convinced that she ceases to be an object 
 of love, she fancies that, as matter of course, she at once be- 
 
,,•> 
 
 EVILS OF A MOTTO— LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM. 383 
 
 comes an object of ridicule : so that she takes care to run no 
 chance of reading to her own mortification, till she feels that it 
 is time to commence devotee. 
 
 I recollect a friend of mine writing a poem of satire so gen- 
 eral, that everybody might attribute it to their neighbors, 
 without taking it to themselves. The first edition having gone 
 off well, he published a second, announcing improvements, and 
 giving as a motto the words of Hamlet : — 
 
 "To hold as 'twere the mirror up to Nature." 
 
 This motto was fatal ; the idea of the mirror condemned the 
 book : nobody would venture to look into it : and the entire 
 impression is, I dare say, in the act of rotting on the booksel- 
 ler's shelves at the present moment. 
 
 Oh ! that delicious dream of life, when age is too far distant 
 to be seen, and childhood fast receding from our vision ! when 
 nature pauses briefly between refinement and sensuality — 
 first imparting to our wondering senses what we are and what 
 we shall be, before she consigns us to the dangerous guar- 
 dianship of chance and of our passions. 
 
 Thal^is the crisis when lasting traits of character begin to 
 bud and blossom, and acquire sap ; and every effort should 
 then be made to crop and prune, and train the young shoots, 
 while yet they retain the principle of ductility. 
 
 During that period the youth is far too charry to avow a 
 passion which he does not fully comprehend, satisfied with 
 making known his feelings by delicate allusions, and thus 
 contriving to disclose the principle without mentioning its 
 existence. All sorts of pretty sentimentalities are employed 
 to this end : shepherds and shepherdesses are pressed into the 
 service ; as are likewise tropes of Arcadian happiness and 
 simplicity, with abundance of metaphorical roses with thorns 
 to them — perfumes and flowers. 
 
 A particular friend of mine, nearly as well known to me as 
 myself, and who, when a young man, had a great propensity 
 to fall in love and make verses accordingly, has often told me 
 his whole progress in both, and says positively that he should 
 ascertain in a moment a man's decimal from his versification. 
 
384 MEMORANDA POETIC A. 
 
 He entertained me one morning by showing me certain memo- 
 randums which he had from time to time made upon this sub- 
 ject, and from which he permitted me to take extracts, as also 
 from some of his own effusions which he said he had kept out 
 of curiosity. 
 
 It appears that at the age of fifteen he fell in love with a 
 Miss Lyddy St. John, who was herself a poetess of fourteen, 
 and the most delicate young Celestial he had ever seen. The 
 purity of her thoughts and verses filtered all his sentiments as 
 clear as spring-water, and did not leave an atom of grossness 
 in the whole body of them. 
 
 Before he left school he wrote the following lines on this 
 young lady, which he had suffered to stand a? the poetical 
 illustration of his boyhood. 
 
 L 
 
 "What sylph that flits athwart the air, 
 Or hovers rounds its favorite fair, 
 Can rjaint such charms to fancy's eye, 
 
 Or feebly trace 
 
 The unconscious grace 
 Of her for whom I sigh ? 
 
 n. 
 
 As silver flakes of falling snow 
 
 Tell the pure sphere from whence they flow, 
 
 So the chaste beauties of her eye 
 
 Faintly impart 
 
 The chaster heart 
 Of her for whom I sigh." 
 
 Lyddy, however, objected to the last line of each stanza, as 
 she did not understand what he meant by sighing for her ; and 
 he not being able to solve the question, she seemed to entertain 
 rather a contempt for his intellect, and palpably gave the 
 preference to one of his schoolfellows — a bolder boy. 
 
 In the next stage toward maturity the poet and lover began 
 to know better what he was about ; and determined to pay a 
 visit to the fair one, and try if any circumstance might give 
 him a delicate opportunity of disclosing his sentiments and suf- 
 ferings. 
 
 He unfortunately found that the innocent cause of his. tor- 
 ment had gone on a tour, and that his interview must be ad- 
 
A POET-LOVER : — A LAMENTATION. 385 
 
 journed sine die. However, he explored the garden ; sat down 
 in all the arbors ; walked pensively over the flower-plots ; 
 peeped into her chamber-window, which was on the ground- 
 floor, and embroidered with honeysuckles and jessamine : his 
 very soul swelled with thoughts of love and rural retirement : 
 and thus his heart, as it were, burst open, and let out a gush 
 of poetry, which he immediately committed to writing in the 
 garb of a lamentation for the fair one's absence, and forced 
 under the window-frame of her bedchamber ; after which he 
 disconsolately departed, though somewhat relieved by this 
 effort of his muse. The words ran thus : — 
 
 "lamentation of croneroe for the absence of its sylvan nymph. 
 
 "Ah, where has she wandered? ah, where has she strayed? 
 What clime now possesses our lost sylvan maid ? — 
 No myrtle now blossoms ; no tulips will blow ; 
 And the lively arbutus now fades at Croneroe. 
 
 IL 
 
 "No glowing carnation now waves round her seat; 
 Nor crocus nor cowslip weave turf for her feet ; 
 And the woodbine's soft tendrils, once trained by her hand, 
 Now wild round her arbor distractedly stand. 
 
 HI. 
 
 "Her golden-clothed fishes now deaden their hue; 
 The birds cease to warble — the wood-dove to coo; 
 The cypress spreads wide, and the willow droops low, 
 And the noon's brightest ray can't enliven Croneroe. 
 
 IV. 
 
 "In the low-winding glen, all embosomed in green, 
 Where the thrush courts her muse, and the blackbird is seen, 
 The rill as it flows, limpid, silent, and slow, 
 Trickles down the gray rock as the tears of Croneroe I 
 
 v. 
 
 "Then return, sylvan maid, and the flowers will all spring, 
 And the wood-dove will coo, and the linnet will sing — 
 The goldfish will sparkle, the silver streams flow, 
 And the noon-ray shine bright through the glen of Croneroe." 
 
 Nothing very interesting occurred for above two months to 
 our amorous lyrist, when he began to tire of waiting for the 
 nymph of Croneroe, and grew fond of one of his own cousins, 
 without being able to give any very particular reason for it, 
 further than that he was becoming more and more enlightened 
 
 17 
 
386 MEMORANDA POETICA. 
 
 in the ways of the world. But this family flame soon burnt 
 itself out ; and he next fell into a sort of furious passion for a 
 fine, strong, ruddy country-girl, the parson's daughter. She 
 was a capital housekeeper, and the parson himself a jolly 
 hunting-fellow. At his house there was a good table, and a 
 hearty style of joking — which advantages, together with a 
 walk in the shrubbery, a sillabub under the cow, and a romp 
 in the haymaking field, soon sent poor refinement about its 
 business. The poet became absolutely mortal, and began to 
 write common hexameters. However, before he was confirmed 
 in his mortality, he happened one day to mention a sylph to his 
 new sweetheart. She merely replied that she never saw one, 
 and asked her mamma privately what it was, who desired her 
 never to mention such a word again. 
 
 But by the time he set out for Oxford, he had got tolerably 
 well quit of all his ethereal visions, celestials, and snowdrops : 
 and to convince his love what an admiration he had for sensi- 
 ble, substantial beauty, like hers, he wrote the following lines 
 in a blank leaf of her prayer-book, which she had left in his 
 way as if suspecting his intention : — 
 
 i. 
 " Refinement's a very nice thing in its way, 
 And so is platonic regard : 
 Melting sympathy too — as the highflyers say — 
 
 Is the only true theme for a bard. 
 Then give them love's phantoms and flights for their pains; 
 But grant me, ye gods ! flesh and blood and blue veins, 
 And dear Dolly — dear Dolly Haynes. 
 
 n. 
 " I like that full fire and expression of eyes, 
 Where love's true material presides; 
 With a glance now and then to the jellies and pies, 
 
 To insure us good living besides. 
 Ye refiners, take angels and sylphs for your pains; 
 But grant me, ye gods ! flesh and blood and blue veins, 
 And dear Dolly — dear Dolly Haynes !" 
 
 I should not omit mentioning here an incident which at the 
 time extremely amused me. A friend of mine, a barrister, 
 whose extravagant ideas of refinement have frequently proved 
 source of great entertainment to me, was also a most enthusi- 
 astic admirer of Mr. Thomas Moore's writings, prose and verse. 
 
"loves of the angels." 387 
 
 I read over to him the foregoing rather " of the earth, earthy" 
 composition, to which he listened with a shrng of the shoulders 
 and a contraction of the upper lip ; and I was desirous of draw- 
 ing out his opinion thereon by adverting to his own favorite 
 bard. 
 
 " Here," said I, " we have a fine illustration of the natural 
 progress from refinement to sensuality — the amalgamation of 
 which principles is so beautifully depicted by Mr. Thomas 
 Moore in his ' Loves of the Angels.' " 
 
 " Your observation is just," replied my friend. " I can not 
 conceive why those elegant amours have been so much carped 
 at — since their only object is to prove that flesh and blood is 
 in very high estimation even with the spirituals." 
 
 " What a triumph to mortality !" replied I. 
 
 u And why," continued he, " should people be so very skep- 
 tical as to the authenticity of these angelic love-matches? — 
 Surely there are no negative proofs, and are Ave not every day 
 told by the gravest authorities that we are bound at our peril 
 to believe divers matters not an atom more intelligible 1 For 
 my part, I can't comprehend why a poet should not be as 
 credible a witness as a bishop on matters that are equally and 
 totally invisible to both of them." 
 
 " Tr,ue," observed I, smiling ; " and the more so as poets, 
 generally residing nearer the sky than any other members of 
 society, are likely to get better information." 
 
 "Ay, poor fellows, 'on compulsion!'" said my friend, with 
 a compassionate sigh. " But," resumed he, falling in with my 
 tone of raillery, " there is one point which I could have wished 
 that our most melodious of lyrists had cleared up to my satis- 
 faction — videlicit, what gender angels really are of." 
 
 " Very little doubt, by logical reasoning, need exist upon 
 that point," answered I ; " Mr. Moore represents his angels in 
 the characters of gay deceivers ; and those characters being 
 performed by the male sex, ergo, angels must be males. You 
 perceive the syllogism is complete." 
 
 " Ay, ay," said my friend ; " but how comes it, then, that 
 when we see a beautiful woman, Ave cry out involuntarily, 
 * What an angel /' " 
 
388 MEMORANDA POETICA. 
 
 " The word Jiomo signifies either man or woman," replied I ; 
 " give a similar latitude to the word angel, and you have your 
 choice of sexes ! Divers of the classics, and some of the sculp- 
 tors, perfectly authorize Mr. Moore's delicious ambiguity." 
 
 " That," said my Moorish friend, " is certainly the fact, and 
 most elegantly has our lyrist handled this question of celestial 
 sexuality : he has paid the highest compliment ever yet con- 
 ceived to human beauty, by asserting that ethereal spirits, in- 
 stead of taking up with their oavii transparent species? prefer 
 the opaque body-coloring of terrestrial dairy-maids — though 
 fastidious casuists may, perhaps, call that a depraved taste." 
 
 " No such thing," replied I ; "it is rather a proof of refined 
 and filtered epicurism. The heathen mythology is crammed 
 with precedents on that point. Every god and goddess in for- 
 mer times (and the sky was then quite crowded with them — ") 
 
 " And may be so still," interrupted my friend, " for anything 
 we know to the contrary." 
 
 " They played their several pranks upon our globe," contin- 
 ued I, " without the slightest compunction : even Jupiter him- 
 self frequently became a trespasser on the honor and peace of 
 several very respectable fleshly families. The distinction be- 
 tween the spiritual and corporeal is likewise dexterously 
 touched on by the dramatist Farquhar, who makes one of his 
 characters* exclaim to another, " I'll take her body, you her 
 mind — which has the better bargain?" 
 
 " But," rejoined my friend, " modern sentiment, which brings 
 all these matters into collision, had not then been invented : 
 now we can have both in one lot." 
 
 Finally, we determined to consult Mr. Thomas Moore him- 
 self upon this most interesting consideration, agreeing that 
 nobody could possibly understand such a refined subject so 
 well as the person who wrote a book about it. We therefore 
 proceeded (as I shall now do) to the next stage of years and 
 of poetry. 
 
 The poet and lover was soon fixed at the university, where 
 he shortly made fast acquaintance with a couple of hot young 
 Irishmen, who lost no time in easing him of the dregs of his 
 * Archer, in " The Beaux' Stratagem." 
 
DINNER-VEESES OF AN OXONIAN. 389 
 
 sentimentality, and convinced him clearly that no rational man 
 should ever be in love except when he is drunk, in which case 
 it signifies little whom he falls in love with. Thus our youth * 
 soon forgot the parsonage, and grew enamored of the bottle i 
 but having some lees of poetry still remaining within him, the 
 classics and the wine set them a fermenting : and he now wrc^e 
 drinking-songs, hunting-songs, boating-songs, satires on the 
 shopkeepers' daughters, and lampoons on the fellows of Jesus 
 and Brazen-nose colleges ; answered letters in verse, and, in a 
 word, turned out what the lads call a genius. 
 
 The reverend private tutor of these young Irishmen wrote 
 one day a letter to our poet in verse, inviting him to " meet at 
 dinner a few fellow-countrymen, just arrived." The tutor was 
 a hard-going old parson, fond of wine and versification, who 
 had been sent over from Ireland by the father of the two young 
 men above alluded to, with direction to " take care that the 
 
 lads did not fall into the d d English morals, which -\vould 
 
 soon turn them into snowballs, and disqualify them ever after 
 from living in their own 'proper country and natural society." 
 These instructions the tutor faithfully acted up to ; and the 
 young poet very much amused the whole party by his humor 
 and turn for rhyming ; and was compelled to swear that he 
 would pay them a visit, for a couple of years, at Belturbet, in 
 Ireland, where they would show him what living was. Their 
 father was himself doatingly fond of poetry and the bag- 
 pipes ; and was induced to send them to Oxford only to 
 please their mother's brother, who was, most unfortunately, an 
 Englishman. 
 
 My friend's reply to the parson's invitation was also in verse, 
 and ran as follows : it was not amiss for a young tipster, and 
 smacked in some degree of both Oxford and "Belturbet:" — 
 
 " When parsons and poete their functions unite, 
 And court the old muses to sing "an invite," 
 The profane and the sacred connected we find, 
 And are sure of a banquet to every man's mind. 
 Though on Pegasus mounted, to Bacchus we fly, 
 Yet we'll quaff just like Christians — our priest tells us why :— 
 1 'Tis moist hospitality banishes sin, 
 Tis the wine-opened heart lets benevolence in.' 
 
390 , MEMOKANDA POETICA. 
 
 There no long, canting grace cools our spicy ragout, 
 While the impatient champagne bristles up all mousseu, 
 Our eyes darting toward heaven, we cry — 'Come, goblets, give! 
 This old pagan cream teaches Christians to live!' 
 Thus the pastor and flock will soon empty the bowl, 
 And its spirit divide 'twixt the head and the soul ! 
 Though the Jove of our banquet no eagle can boast, 
 > v We'll have plenty of 'kites flying' all round our host: 
 Mid loud peals of humor undaunted we'll sit, 
 And for flashes of lightning have flashes of wit: 
 SWild his reverence perceive that our spirits are laid, 
 Then hot-peppered devils he'll call to his aid, 
 And, all Christians surpassing, old Tantalus see ! — 
 The more liquor he quaffs, still the drier he'll be ! 
 But two modes of death sinful mortals should know- — 
 Break their necks from Parnassus, or drown in Bordeaux : 
 And to which of those deaths I am doomed from on high, 
 I'm sure of a parson who'll teach me to die. 
 Then who can refuse to accept of a dinner, 
 Where the host is from Erin — a priest — saint* — and sinner ?" 
 
 In fact, this same friend of mine, of whose poetry, or rather 
 versification, I have thus given samples to the reader, is a very 
 peculiar personage : bred to a profession which he never fol- 
 lowed, with ample means and no occupation, he has arrived at 
 a ripe age without much increasing his stock of wisdom, or at 
 all diminishing that of his peculiarity. He told me he found 
 his standard relief against ennui was invoking the muses, which, 
 by ransacking his ideas and puzzling his genius, operated as a 
 stimulus to his brain, and prevented that stagnation of the 
 fluids which our ablest nosologists say is so often the induce- 
 ment to suicide. My friend argues that the inexhaustible va- 
 riety of passions, propensities, sentiments, and so forth, inhe- 
 rent to the human frame, and which poets (like noblemen's 
 fools in days of yore) have a license for daubing with any col- 
 ors they think proper, affords to the language of poetry a vast 
 superiority over that of prose : which latter being in its nature 
 but a humdrum concern, is generally expected to be reasona- 
 bly correct, tolerably intelligible, and moderately decent — 
 astringent qualifications which our modern poets appear to 
 have conspired to disregard. 
 
 My friend, however, observed that he himself was not ena- 
 
 * The Rev. Luke O'Maher had been thus sportively nicknamed, on ac- 
 count of his being so very good a fellow. 
 
POETIC MAKKET OVERSTOCKED. 391 
 
 bled to take other than a limited advantage of this license — 
 inasmuch as he had been frequently jilted by the muses, who 
 never would do more than flirt with, him ; and hence, for want 
 of a sufficient modicum of inspiration, he was necessitated to 
 put up with the ordinary subjects of verse — such as epigrams, 
 satires, odes on natal days, epitaphs on lapdogs and little chil- 
 dren, translations of Greek songs that he never saw, and of 
 Italian poetry that had never existed, &c. It was true he 
 went on to inform me that he had occasionally flown at higher 
 game in the regions of poesy ; but, somehow or other, no book- 
 seller would publish his effusions : one said they were too flat; 
 another that they were too elevated; a third characterized 
 them as too wild for the critics ; and a fourth pronounced them 
 too tame for the ladies. At length, however, the true state of 
 the matter was candidly developed by a very intelligent pres- 
 byterian bookseller in the city, who told my friend that he was 
 quite too late as to poetry, with which the shops were crammed 
 and the public nauseated. Besides, he said, all the poetic sta- 
 tions in any way productive were already occupied. For in- 
 stance, a poet Fitzgerald (whom Lord Byron calls " Hoarse 
 Fitzgerald") had, ever since the days of the " Rejected Ad- 
 dresses," been considered as the writer, reciter, and proprietor 
 of the fulsome line of poetry ; the amatory, celestial, and hor- 
 ticultural departments, had long been considered the property 
 of* Mr. Thomas Moore ; and every dactyl or spondee relating 
 to roses, posies, dewdrops and thorns, grapes, lilies, kisses, 
 blisses, blushes, angels, &c, would be considered as gross pla- 
 giarism emanating from any other pen that of our justly-cele- 
 brated lyrist : while as to historic or Caledonian poetry, Walter 
 Scott had not left an idea unappropriated for any fresh pen- 
 man. He had raised an obscure people to eternal celebrity, 
 by recording their murders in English versification ; and, by 
 his " Battle of Waterloo," had proved that his own muse, in 
 the department of manslaughter, was in a very declining state 
 of health, probably owing to the extraordinary fatigue she had 
 previously undergone. 
 
 My friend was proceeding to detail further the admonitory 
 conversation of this honest bipliopole, when I interrupted him 
 
392 MEMORANDA POETICA. 
 
 by asking, naturally enough, how he could continue to derive 
 any pleasure from a pursuit in which he admitted himself to 
 have been so very unsuccessful ; to which he adroitly replied, 
 M On the very same principle that a bad shot may have just as 
 much amusement as a capital sportsman — perhaps more — one 
 good hit being as gratifying to him as twenty to an undevia- 
 ting slaughterer." I coincided in my friend's remark, adding 
 that the same sort of observation would apply to random jokers 
 as well as rhymesters ; and that I have more than once abso- 
 lutely envied the inordinate happiness of a universal punster 
 when he chanced to say anything that had a symptom of wit 
 in it. 
 
 My friend then, gravely opening his portfolio, selected two 
 of his productions, which he gave me permission to publish, 
 particularly as one of them had been most abruptly rejected 
 by an eminent newspaper, and the other by a magazine of 
 considerable reputation. 
 
 The intended magazine article ran as follows : — 
 
 THE HIGHLANDER. 
 
 " A sans culotte from Caledonia's wilds, 
 Rasped into form by Nature's roughest files, 
 Hearing of savory meats — of moneys made — 
 Of unsmocked women — and of gaining trade; — 
 Resolved, from sooty cot to seek a town, 
 And to the lowlands boldly stumped it down. 
 But then, alas ! his garb would never do : — 
 The greasy kilt, bare loins, and tatter'd shoe : 
 Yet urged to better food and better fame, 
 He borrowed breeches and assumed a name ; 
 Then tucked his kilt, gartered his motley hose, 
 New nailed his heels, and caped the peeping toes. 
 His freckled fist a swineherd's bludgeon wields, 
 His tried companion through the sties and fields, 
 (Full many a jeering clown had felt its sway) 
 Now to a cane promoted, helps its master's way. 
 Full fifty baubees Sandy had in store, 
 And piteous tales had raised him fifty more : 
 His knife, his pipe, and eke his baubee bank, 
 In Basil pouch hung dangling from his flank : 
 No empty wallet on his shoulder floats: 
 Hard eggs, soft cheese, tobacco, salt, and oats, 
 Crammed in one end, wagged o'er his brawny chest, 
 And what was once a blanket poised the rest ; 
 Thus wealthy, victualled, proud, content, and gay, 
 Down Grampian's sterile steeps young sandy wound his way. 
 
" REJECTED ADDRESSES." 393 
 
 Hail food ! hail raiment ! hail that happy lot. 
 Which lured such genius from the smoky cot, 
 To mingle in the ranks of breechesed men, 
 And coin a name and family again ! 
 
 "Where famed St. Andrew's turrets tower on high; 
 
 Where learned doctors lecture, doze, and die; 
 
 Where Knowledge sleeps, and Science seeks repose, 
 
 And mouldering halls more mouldering heads disclose,- — 
 
 Where Roman Virgil pipes in Celtic verse, 
 
 And Grecian Homer sings to gods in Erse ; — 
 
 'Twas there that Sandy formed his worldly creed, 
 
 Brushed gowns, swept book-shelves, learned to shave and read: 
 
 From craft to craft his willing genius rose ; 
 
 When cash was scarce he wisely wrought for clothes, 
 
 And threadbare trophies, once the kirksmen's pride, 
 
 Mickle by mickle swelled his wallet's side. 
 
 Well turned, well washed, the rags denied their age, 
 
 While Sandy's granite visage aped the sage. 
 
 Here, great Lavater ! here thy science stands 
 
 Confessed and proved by more than mortal hands. 
 Though o'er his features Nature's art we see, 
 
 Her deepest secrets are disclosed through thee. 
 
 The green-tinged eye, curled lip, and lowering brows, 
 
 Which malice harrows, and which treachery ploughs, 
 
 In deep sunk furrows on his front we find, 
 
 Tilling the crops that thrive in Sandy's mind. 
 
 No soft sensations can that face impart ; 
 
 No gratitude springs glowing from the heart: 
 
 As deadly nightshade creeping on the ground, 
 
 He tries to poison what he can not wound. 
 
 Yet Sandy has a most consistent mind, 
 
 Too low to rise, too coarse to be refined, 
 
 Too rough to polish, and too loose to bind : 
 
 Yet if" * * * 
 
 On looking over the residue, I found I could not with pro- 
 priety continue the publication of this satire : were I to pro- 
 ceed five or six lines farther, ill-natured people might possibly 
 find a pretence for designation, aud I should be very sorry to 
 be considered as capable of becoming an instrument in so 
 improper a procedure : I therefore returned the copy to my 
 port-folio, and subsequently to the author mentioning my 
 reasons, and advising him to burn the rest. His reply to me 
 was laconic — "My Dear B . . . , qui capit illefacit." 
 
 The other trifle is a mere jeu d'esprit, and can not be disa- 
 greeable to anybody, unless it may be taken amiss by some 
 West Indian proprietor, whose probable touchiness at the 
 introduction of the word slavery, I do not feel called on to 
 compassionate. 
 
 17* 
 
394 MEMORANDA POETIC A. 
 
 " EPIGRAM. 
 
 "Sir Sidney Smith and Miss JRtonbold. 
 
 "Says Sidney — Til put all white slavery down ; 
 All Europe I'll summon to arms ;' 
 But fair Rumbold replied — ' I'll reverse my renown, 
 For all men shall be slaves to my charms.' 
 
 " If thus, lovely champion, that tongue and those eyes 
 Can set all mankind by the ears ; 
 Go — fire off your glances, explode a few sighs, 
 
 And make captive the dey of Algiers 1 
 Thus you'll rival Sir Sidney in glory and gains; 
 He may conquer the tyrant — you'll lead him in chains." 
 
 I can not conclude these memoranda without adding a few- 
 fragments from some unpublished and nearly unknown works, 
 the production of Miss T . . . n, the amiable young lady to 
 whom I have before introduced the reader, and who com- 
 menced versifying at the early age of fifteen. Her composi- 
 tions are numerous, and comprise a variety of subjects and of 
 styles, from the fugitive lyric to the pretending epic ; but with 
 a natural and becoming modesty (though in her case, in my 
 opinion unnecessarily retained), she refuses to submit them to 
 the ordeal of the public. 
 
 THE BARD. 
 
 Extracted from an unpublished Poem, called " Boadicea." 
 
 " Amid those aged sons of song 
 One seemed to tower the rest among: 
 For though the heavy hand of Time 
 Had somewhat marred his youthful prime ; 
 Though the sunny glow had faded 
 On the locks his brow that shaded ; 
 Stern Time, not even thy icy sway 
 Might quench the heaven-enkindled lay 
 Which wakened to achievements high 
 Those heroes of antiquity. 
 Howe'er it were, from that bright band , 
 Sadly apart he seemed to stand, 
 And lowly on his harp he leant 
 With eye of gloom and eyebrow bent; 
 But still, despite his sterner mood, 
 By all with reverence he was viewed, 
 Such charms of dignity hath age 
 When on the brow experience sage 
 Hath stamped the worth of years that sleep, 
 And when the mind hath known to reap 
 Harvests of scientific lore, 
 And well-secured the precious store ; — 
 
THE BARD, AN EXTRACT. 395 
 
 When all the stormy dreams of youth 
 Fade in the beacon-light of truth; 
 When fiery feelings are repressed, 
 The spirit calmed, the heart at rest? 
 Then in the form of age we find 
 Somewhat surpassing earthly kind. 
 Now forth his harp that minstrel drew, 
 And o'er the chords his fingers threw, 
 The while beneath that lighter sway 
 Murmured the scarcely-bidden lay, 
 In soft half-warbled cadence stealing 
 O'er the melting soul of feeling : 
 But when he caught the transport high 
 Which marked the kindling melody, 
 His upturned eye and heaving breast 
 The mighty frenzy quick confessed ; 
 The sympathetic strings beneath 
 A wild inspiring chorus breathe, 
 And borne the lofty halls along, 
 Floats high the patriot minstrel's song : — 
 
 '" The mildew of time steeps the laurel-bound wreath, 
 And the war-sword ingloriously rusts in its sheath, 
 Which burst on tne foe as the bolt from on high, 
 And sprinkled the blood of revenge to the sky. 
 
 '"The arm is unbraced and the nerves are unstrung 
 Of him who in combat that dark weapon swung; 
 For the souls of the heroes of loftier days, 
 Kindled high in their glory, have sunk in the blaze: 
 
 '"And the laurels of Britain, drooped, withered, and shrunk, 
 And her standard of freedom all hopelessly sunk, 
 And the sons of the isles, scattered thin on the hill, 
 Stood forsaken and drooping, but dauntlessly still. 
 
 " ' Ye sons of the brave ! is the bold spirit fled 
 
 Which to combat and conquest your forefathers led? 
 Oh no 1 it but sleeps in the souls it should warm ! 
 The more fiercely to burn in the day of the storm. 
 
 " But too long it hath slept : for the hearts of the brave 
 Are a country's best bulwarks to guard and to save : 
 Oh then be the lion aroused in each breast, 
 Triumphant to conquer, or nobly to rest. 
 
 'Be it yours to divulge the dark volume of fate ; 
 Be it yours to revenge, ere revenge be too late : 
 Oh let not the spirit of freedom repose 
 Till it visit the wrongs of our land on its foes. 
 
 " ' 'Tis your country that calls ; shall that cry be in vain ? 
 All bleeding she lies in the conqueror's chain : 
 Chiefs 1 but one struggle more, and her freedom is won : 
 Let us triumph or die, as our fathers have done. 
 
396 TIIEATKICAL RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 " ' Like the lightning of heaven be your arms on the heath, 
 Loud, loud ring your shields with the thunder of death: 
 As the waves of your ocean rush down to the strife, 
 And each stroke be for Britain — for freedom and life!' 
 
 " The bard has ceased : the lofty lay 
 In long vibrations dies away, 
 And melts upon the air around 
 Till silence blends away the sound. 
 The bard upon each warrior gazed, 
 To mark what thoughts his strain had raised. 
 The eye that late flashed high with mirth 
 In altered cheer now sought the earth ; 
 The cheek that bright with joy had blushed, 
 Far other feeling now had flushed. 
 It might have seemed throughout the hall, 
 (So motionless, so mute, were all), 
 As though the spirit of the storm 
 Had swept along each stately form 
 A moment — and what change was wrought 
 In every look and every thought! 
 Roused by the breath of life, they seem 
 To start at once from their death-like dream ; 
 A sudden impulse, wild and strong, 
 Agitates the moving throng 
 And like the billows of the deep, 
 When darkening tempests o'er it sweep, 
 In every freeborn heart, that strain 
 Concordant echoes roused again!" 
 
 THEATRICAL RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 The Author's Early Visits to Crow Street Theatre — Interruptions of the University A/e«— 
 College Pranks — Old Mr. Sheridan in"Cato"and in " Alexander the Great." — Curioua 
 Scene introduced, by Mistake, in the latter Tragedy — Mr. Digges in the Ghost of Hamlet's 
 Father — Chorus of Cocks — The Author's Preference of Comedy to Tragedy — Remarks 
 on Mr. Kean and the London Moralists — Liston in " Paul Pry." — Old Sparks — The Span- 
 ish Debutante — Irish Johnstone^Modern Comedy — The French Stage. 
 
 From my youth I was attached to theatrical representations, 
 and have still a clear recollection of many of the eminent per- 
 formers of my early days. My grandmother, with whom I 
 resided for many years, had silver tickets of admission to Crow 
 Street theatre, whither I was very frequently sent. 
 
 The playhouses in Dublin were then lighted with tallow 
 candles, stuck into tin circles hanging from the middle of the 
 
CROW STREET THEATRE COLLEGE PRANKS. 397 
 
 stage, which were every now and then snuffed by some per- 
 former; and two soldiers, with fixed bayonets, always stood 
 like statues on each side of the stage, close to the boxes, to 
 keep the audience in order. The galleries were very noisy 
 and very droll. The ladies and gentlemen in the boxes al- 
 ways went dressed out nearly as for court ; the strictest eti- 
 quette and decorum were preserved in that circle ; while the 
 pit, as being full of critics and wise men, was particularly 
 respected, except when the young gentlemen of the university 
 occasionally forced themselves in, to revenge some insult, real 
 or imagined, to a member of their body ; on which occasions, 
 all the ladies, well-dressed men, and peaceable people gener- 
 ally, decamped forthwith, and the young gentlemen as generally 
 proceeded to beat or turn out the rest of the audience, and to 
 break everything that came within their reach. These exploits 
 were by no means uncommon ; and the number and rank of 
 the young culprits were so great, that (coupled with the impossi- 
 bility of selecting the guilty), the college would have been 
 nearly depopulated, and many of the great families in Ireland 
 enraged beyond measure, had the students been expelled or 
 even rusticated. 
 
 I had the honor of being frequently present, and (as far as 
 in melee), giving a helping hand to our encounters both in the 
 playhouses and streets. , We were in the habit of going about 
 the latter, on dark nights, in coaches, and, by flinging out 
 half-pence, breaking the windows of all the houses we rapidly 
 drove by, to the astonishment and terror of the proprietors. 
 At other times we used to convey gunpowder squibs into all 
 the lamps in several streets at once, and by longer or shorter 
 fuses contrive to have them all burst about the same time, 
 breaking every lamp to shivers, and leaving whole streets in 
 utter darkness. Occasionally we threw large crackers into the 
 china and glass shops, and delighted to see the terrified shop- 
 keepers trampling on their own porcelain and cut glass, for 
 fear of an explosion. By way of a treat, we used sometimes 
 to pay the watchmen to lend us their cloaks and rattles; by 
 virtue whereof, we broke into the^ low prohibited gambling 
 houses, knocked out the lights, drove the gamblers down stairs, 
 
398 - THEATRICAL RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 and then gave all their stakes to the watchmen. The whole 
 body of watchmen belonging to one parish (that of the round 
 church) were our sworn friends, and would take our part against 
 any other watchmen in Dublin. We made a permanent sub- 
 scription, and paid each of these regularly seven shillings a 
 week for his 'patronage. I mention these trifles, out of a thou- 
 sand odd pranks, as a part of my plan, to show, from a com- 
 parison of the past with the present state of society in the 
 Irish metropolis, the extraordinary improvement which has 
 taken place in point of decorum within the last half-century. 
 The young gentlemen of the university then were in a state 
 of great insubordination ; not as to their learning, but their 
 wild habits : indeed, the singular feats of some of them would 
 be scarcely credible now ; and they were so linked together, that 
 an offence to one was an offence to all. There were several 
 noblemen's sons with their gold-laced, and elder sons of baro- 
 nets with their silver-laced gowns, who used to accompany us, 
 with their gowns turned inside out ; yet our freaks arose merely 
 from the fire and natural vivacity of uncontrolled youth ; no 
 calm, deliberate vices, no low meannesses, were ever commit- 
 ted ; that class of young men now termed dandies we then 
 called macaronies ; and we made it a standing rule to thrash 
 them whenever we got a fair opportunity : such also as had 
 been long tied to their " mother's apron-strings," we made no 
 small sport with when we got them clear inside the college : 
 we called them milksops, and if they declined drinking as much 
 wine as ordered, we always dosed them, as in duty bound, 
 with tumblers of salt and water till they came to their feeding, 
 as we called it. Thus generally commenced a young man of 
 fashion's noviciate above fifty years ago. However, our wild- 
 ness instead of increasing as we advanced in our college courses, 
 certainly diminished, and often left behind it the elements of 
 much talent and virtue. Indeed, I believe there were to the 
 full as good scholars, and certainly to the full as high gentle- 
 men, educated in the Dublin university then, as in this wiser 
 and more cold-blooded era. 
 
 I remember, even before that period, seeing old Mr. Sheri- 
 dan perform the part of Cato at one of the Dublin theatres ; I 
 
A SCENE NOT IN THE BILLS. 399 
 
 do not recollect which : but I well recollect his dress, which 
 consisted of bright armor under a fine laced scarlet cloak, 
 and surmounted by a huge, white, bushy, well-powdered wig 
 (like Dr. Johnson's) over which was stuck his helmet. I won- 
 dered much how he could kill himself without stripping off 
 the armor before he performed that operation ! I also recol- 
 lect him particularly (even as before my eyes now) playing 
 Alexander the Great, and throwing the javelin at Clytus, whom 
 happening to miss, he hit the cupbearer, then played by one 
 of the hack performers, a Mr. Jemmy Fotterel. Jemmy very 
 naturally supposed that he was hit designedly, and that it was 
 some new light of the great Mr. Sheridan to slay the cupbearer 
 in preference to his friend Clytus (which certainly would have 
 been a less unjustifiable manslaughter), and that therefore he 
 ought to tumble down and make a painful end according to 
 dramatic custom time immemorial. Immediately, therefore, 
 on being struck, he reeled, staggered, and fell very naturally, 
 considering it was his first death ; but being determined on 
 this unexpected opportunity to make an impression upon the 
 audience, when he found himself stretched out on the boards 
 at full length, he began to roll about, kick, and flap the stage 
 with his hands most immoderately ; falling next into strong 
 convulsions, exhibiting every symptom of exquisite torture, and 
 at length expiring with a groan so loud and so long that it 
 paralyzed even the people in the galleries, while the ladies 
 believed that he was really killed, and cried aloud. 
 
 Though then very young, I was myself so terrified in the 
 pit that I never shall forget it. However, Jemmy Fotterel 
 was in the end, more clapped than any Clytus had ever been, 
 and even the murderer himself could not help laughing most 
 heartily at the incident. 
 
 The actresses of both tragedy and genteel comedy formerly 
 wore large hoops, and whenever they made a speech walked 
 across the stage and changed sides with the performer who 
 was to speak next, thus veering backward and forward, like 
 a shuttlecock, during the entire performance. This custom 
 partially prevailed in the continental theatres till very lately. 
 
 I recollect Mr. Barry, who was really a remarkably hand- 
 
400 THEATRICAL RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 some man, and his lady (formerly Mrs. Dancer) ; also Mr. Dig- 
 ges, who used to play the ghost in " Hamlet." One night in 
 doubling that part with Polonius, Digges forgot on appearing 
 as the ghost, previously to rub off the bright red paint with 
 which his face had been daubed for the other character. A 
 spirit with a large red nose and vermilioned cheeks was ex- 
 tremely novel and much applauded. There was also a famous 
 actor who used to play the cock that crew to call off the ghost 
 when Hamlet had done with him : this performer did his part 
 so well that everybody used to say he was the best cock that 
 ever had been heard at Smock- Alley, and six or eight other 
 gentry of the dunghill species were generally brought behind 
 the scenes, who on hearing him, mistook him for a brother 
 cock, and set up their pipes all together : and thus, by the 
 infinity of crowing at the same moment, the hour was the bet- 
 ter marked, and the ghost glided back to the other world in 
 the midst of a perfect chorus of cocks, to the no small admira- 
 tion of the audience. 
 
 Of the distinguished merits of the old actors, or indeed of 
 many of the more modern ones, I profess myself but a very 
 moderate judge. One thing, however, I am sure of; that, man 
 or boy, I never admired tragedy, however well personated. 
 Lofty feelings and strong passions may be admirably mimicked 
 therein; but the ranting, whining, obviously premeditated start- 
 ing, disciplined gesticulation, &c. — the committing of suicide 
 in mellifluous blank verse, and rhyming when in the agonies 
 of death, stretch away so very far from nature, as to destroy all 
 that illusion whereon the effect of dramatic exhibition in my 
 mind entirely depends. Unless occasionally to witness some 
 very celebrated new actor, I have not attended a tragedy these 
 forty years ; nor have I ever yet seen any tragedian on the 
 British stage who made so decided an impression on my feel- 
 ings as Mr. Kean, in some of his characters, has done. When 
 I have seen other celebrated men enact the same parts, I have 
 remained quite tranquil, however my judgment may have been 
 satisfied : but he has made me shudder, and that, in my estima- 
 tion, is the grand triumph of the actor's art. I have seldom 
 sat out the last murder scene of any play except " Tom 
 
KEAN THE LONDON MOEALISTS LISTON. 401 
 
 Thumb," or " Chrononhotonthologos," which certainly are no 
 burlesques on some of our standard tragedies. 
 
 Kean's Shylock and Sir Giles Overreach seemed to me neither 
 more nor less than actual identification of those portraitures : 
 so much so in fact, that I told him myself, after seeing him 
 perform the first-mentioned part, that I could have found in 
 my heart to knock his brains out the moment he had finished 
 his performance.* 
 
 Two errors, however, that great actor has in a remarkable 
 degree : some of his pauses are so long, that he appears to have 
 forgotten himself; and he pats Jiis breast so often, that it really 
 reminds one of a nurse patting her infant to keep it from squal- 
 ling ; it is a pity he is not aware of these imperfections ! 
 
 If, however, I have been always inclined to undervalue 
 tragedy, on the other hand, all the comic performers of my 
 time in Ireland I perfectly recollect. I allude to the days of 
 Ryder, O'Keeffe, Wilks, Wilder, Vandermere, &c, &c, &c. 
 
 The effect produced by even one actor, or one trivial inci- 
 dent, is sometimes surprising. The dramatic trifle called 
 " Paul Pry" has had a greater run, I believe, than any piece 
 of the kind ever exhibited in- London. I went to see it, and 
 was greatly amused, not altogether by the piece, but by the 
 ultra oddity of one performer, Put any handsome, or even 
 humane-looking person, in Liston's place, and take away his 
 umbrella, and Paul Pry would scarcely bring another audience. 
 
 * Nothing could be more truly disgusting than the circumstance of the 
 most ruffianly parts of the London population, under the general appella- 
 tion of a " British audience" assuming to themselves the feelings of virtue, 
 delicacy, decorum, morals, and modesty, for the sole purpose of driving into 
 exile one of the first performers that ever trod the stage of England ! and 
 that for an offence which (though abstractedly unjustifiable) a great num- 
 ber of the gentry, not a few of the nobility, and even members of the holy 
 church militant, are constantly committing and daily detected in: which 
 commission and detection by no means seem to have diminished their pop- 
 ularity, or caused their reception to be less cordial among saints, methodists, 
 legal authorities, and justices of the quorum. 
 
 The virtuous sentence of transportation passed against Mr, Kean, by the 
 mob of London certainly began a new series of British morality; and the 
 laudable societies for the "suppression of vice" may shortly be eased of a 
 great proportion of their labors by more active moralists, culled from High 
 street, St. Giles', the Israelites of Rag Fair, and the houses of correction. 
 Hogarth has, in his print of "Evening," immortalized the happy state of the 
 horned citizens at his period. 
 
402 THEATRICAL RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 His countenance continually presents the drollest set of sta- 
 tionary features I ever saw, and has the uncommon merit of 
 being exquisitely comic per se, without the slightest distortion : 
 no artificial grimace, indeed, could improve his natural. I re- 
 member O'Keeffe justly the delight of Dublin : and Ryder the 
 best Sir John Brute, Ranger, Marplot, &c, in the world : the 
 prologue of " Bucks have at ye All !" was repeated by him 
 four hundred and twenty-four times. O'KeefiVs Tony Lump- 
 kin, Yandermere's Skirmish, Wilder's Colonel Oldboy, &c, &c, 
 came as near nature as acting and mimicry could possibly ap- 
 proach. There was also a first edition of Liston as to drollery, 
 on the Dublin stage, usually called " Old Sparkes." He was 
 very tall, and of a very large size ; with heavy -hanging jaws, 
 gouty ankles, big paunch, and sluggish motion : but his comic 
 face and natural drollery were irresistible. He was a most 
 excellent actor in everything he could personate : his grotesque 
 figure, however, rendered these parts but few. Teachum, in 
 the "Beggar's Opera," Caliban (with his own additions), in 
 " The Tempest," and all bulky, droll, low characters, he did 
 to the greatest perfection. At one time, when the audience 
 of Smock alley were beginning to flag, Old Sparkes told Ryder, 
 if he would bring out the afterpiece of " The Padlock," and 
 permit him to manage it, he would insure him a succession of 
 good nights. Ryder gave him his way, and the bills announced 
 a first appearance in the part of Leonora : the debutante was 
 reported to be a Spanish lady. The public curiosity was ex- 
 cited, and youth, beauty, and tremulous modesty, were all an- 
 ticipated ; the house overflowed ; impatience was unbounded ; 
 the play ended in confusion, and the overture of " The Pad- 
 lock" Avas received with rapture. Leonora at length appeared; 
 the clapping was like thunder, to give courage to the debutante, 
 who had a handsome face, and was very beautifully dressed 
 as a Spanish donna, which it was supposed she really was. 
 Her gigantic size, it is true, rather astonished the audience. 
 However, they willingly took for granted that the Spaniards 
 were an immense people, and it was observed that England 
 must have had a great escape of the Spanish Armada, if the 
 men were proportionably gigantic to the ladies. Her voice 
 
OLD SPARKES AND HIS GANDER. 403 
 
 too was rather of the hoarsest, but that was accounted for by 
 the sudden change of climate : at last, Leonora began her song 
 of " Sweet Robin"— 
 
 "Say, little foolish, fluttering thing, 
 Whither, ah whither, would you wing?" 
 
 and at the same moment Leonora's mask falling off, Old 
 Sparkes stood confessed, with an immense gander which he 
 brought from under his cloak, and which he had trained to 
 stand on his hand and screech to his voice, and in chorus with 
 himself. The whim took ; the roar of laughter was quite in- 
 conceivable ; he had also got Mungo played by a real black ; 
 and the whole was so extravagantly ludicrous, and so entirely 
 to the taste of the Irish galleries at that time, that his " Sweet 
 Robin" was encored, and the frequent repetition of the piece 
 replenished poor Ryder's treasury for the residue of the season. 
 
 I think about that time Mr. John Johnstone was a dragoon. 
 His mother was a very good sort of woman, whom I remem- 
 ber extremely well. Between fifty and sixty years ago she 
 gave me a little book, entitled •' The History of the Seven 
 Champions of Christendom," which I have (with several other 
 books of my childhood) to this day. She used to call at my 
 grandmother's to sell run muslins, &c, which she carried about 
 her hips in great wallets, passing them off for a hoop. She 
 was called by the old woman, in pleasantry, " Mull and Jac- 
 onot;" sold great bargains, and was a universal favorite with 
 the ladies. Young Johnstone was a remarkably genteel well- 
 looking lad ; he used to bring presents of trout to my grand- 
 mother, which he caught in the great canal then going on close 
 to Dublin. He soon went into the army : but having a weak- 
 ness in his legs, he procured a speedy discharge, and acquired 
 eminence on the Irish stage. 
 
 I never happened to encounter Mr. Johnstone in piivate 
 society, till we met at dinner at Lord Barrymore's, in 1812, 
 where Col. Bloomfield, my friend Mr. Richard Martin (now 
 justly called Humanity Martin J, and others, were assembled. 
 I was glad to meet the distinguished comedian, and mentioned 
 some circumstances to him which proved the extent of my 
 
404 THEATRICAL RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 memory. He sang that night as sweetly as ever I heard him 
 on the stage, and that is saying much. 
 
 Mr. Johnstone was a truly excellent performer of the more 
 refined species of Irish characters ; but nature had not given 
 him enough of that original shoulder twist, and what they call 
 the "potheen twang" which so strongly characterize the genu- 
 ine national vis comica of the lower orders of Irish. In this 
 respect, perhaps, Owenson was superior to him, of whom the 
 reader will find a more detailed account in a future page. 
 
 No modern comedy, in my mind, equals those of the old 
 writers. The former are altogether devoid of that high-bred, 
 witty playfulness of dialogue so conspicuous in the works of 
 the latter. Gaudy spectacle, commonplace clap-traps, and 
 bad puns, together with forced or mongrel sentiment, have 
 been substituted to " make the unskilful laugh," and to the 
 manifest sorrow of the "judicious." Perhaps so much the bet- 
 ter : as, although there are now most excellent scene-painters 
 and fireworkers, the London stage appears to be almost desti- 
 tute of competent performers in the parts of genuine comedy, 
 and the present London audiences seem to prefer gunpowder, 
 resin, brimstone, musketry, burning castles, and dancing ponies, 
 to any human or Christian entertainments, evidently despising 
 all those high-finished comic characters, which satisfy the un- 
 derstanding and owe nothing to the scenery. 
 
 There is another species of theatrical representation extant 
 in France — namely, scriptural pieces, half-burlesque, half- 
 melodrama. These are undoubtedly among the drollest things 
 imaginable ; mixing up, in one unconnected mass, tragedy, 
 comedy, and farce — painting, music, scenery — dress and un- 
 dress — decency and indecency !* 
 
 * "Samson pulling down the Hall of the Philistines" is the very finest 
 piece of spectacle that can be conceived! — "Susannah and the Elders" is 
 rather too naked a concern for the English ladies to look at, unless through 
 their fans: transparent ones have lately been invented, to save the expense 
 of blushes at the theatres, &c. But the most whimsical of their scriptural 
 dramas is the exhibition of Noah as a shipbuilder, preparatory to the del- 
 uge. He is assisted by large gangs of angels working as his journeymen, 
 whose great solicitude is to keep their wings clear out of the way of their 
 hatchets, &c. At length the whole of them strike and turn out for wages, 
 till the arrival of a body of gens d'armes immediately brings them to order, 
 by whom they are threatened to be sent back to heaven if they do not 
 behave themselves 1 
 
THE FRENCH THEATRE. 405 
 
 I have seen many admirable comedians on the continent. 
 Nothing can possibly exceed Mademoiselle Mars, for instance, 
 in many characters : but the French are all actors and actres- 
 ses from their cradles ; and a great number of performers, even 
 at the minor theatres, seem to me to forget that' they are play- 
 ing, and at times nearly made the audience forget it too ! 
 Their spectacle is admirably good, their dancing excellent, 
 and their dresses beautiful. Their orchestras are well filled., 
 in every sense of the word, and the level of musical composi- 
 tion is not so low as some of Mr. Bishop's effusions. Their sing- 
 ing, however, is execrable ; their tragedy rant ; but their prose 
 comedy very nature itself ! 
 
 In short, the French beyond doubt exceed all other people 
 in the world with regard to theatrical matters ; and as every 
 man, woman, and child, in Paris, is equally attached to spec- 
 tacle, every house is full, every company encouraged, all tastes 
 find some gratification. An Englishman can scarcely quit a Par- 
 isian theatre without having seen himself or some of his family 
 characteristically and capitally represented. The Anglais sup- 
 ply certainly an inexhaustible source of French mimicry ; and 
 as we can not help it, do what we will, our countrymen now 
 begin to practise the good sense of laughing at it themselves ! 
 John Bull thinks that roast beef is the finest dish in the whole 
 world, and that the finest fellow in Europe is the man that eats 
 it. On both points, the Frenchman begs leave, tout a fait, to 
 differ with John : and nothing can be sillier than to oppose 
 opinions with a positive people, in their own country, and who 
 never yet, right or wrong, gave up an argument. 
 
406 MRS. JORDAN. 
 
 MRS. JORDAN. 
 
 Public Misstatement respecting that Lady — The Author's long Acquaintance with Her — De- 
 but of Mrs. Jordan, at the Dublin Theatre, as Miss Francis — Her incipient Talents at that 
 Period — Favorite Actresses then in Possession of the Stage — Theatrical Jealousy — Mrs. 
 Daly (formerly Miss Barsanti) — Curious Inversion of Characters in the Opera of " The 
 Governess," resorted to by the Manager to raise the Wind — Lieutenant Doyne proposes 
 for Miss Franci-: — His Suit rejected from Prudential Considerations — Miss Francis de- 
 part-s for England — Mr. Owen-on, Lady Morgan's Father — Comparison between that 
 Performer and Mr. John (commonly called Irish) Johnstone — Introduction of the Author 
 to His Roval Highness the Duke of Clarence — Reflections on the Scurrilous Personalities 
 of the Engli-h Press — Mrs. Jordan in the Green-Room and on the Sta<re — Her Remarks 
 on the Theatrical Art, and on her own Style of Acting — Her Last Visit to Dublin, and 
 Curious Circumstances connected therewith — Mr. Dwyer the Actor and Mr. Sergeant 
 Gold — Mrs. Jordan in Private Society. — Extracts from her Letters — Her Retirement 
 from Bushy, and subsequent Embarkation for France. 
 
 The foregoing short and superficial sketches of the Dublin 
 stage in iny juvenile days bring me to a subject more recent 
 and much more interesting to my feelings. I touch it never- 
 theless with pain, and must ever deeply regret the untimely 
 catastrophe of a lady who was at once the highest surviving 
 prop of her profession, and a genuine sample of intrinsic excel- 
 lence. Had her fate descended while filling her proper sta- 
 tion and in her own country — or had not the circumstances 
 which attended some parts of that lady's career been entirely 
 mistaken — had not the cause of her miseries been grossly mis- 
 represented, and the story of her desertion and embarrassed 
 state at the time of her dissolution altogether false — I proba- 
 bly should never have done more (under the impression of its 
 being intrusive, perhaps indelicate) than mention her profes- 
 sional excellences. 
 
 But so much of that lady's life, and so much relating to her 
 death also, has been misstated in the public prints (not for the 
 purpose of doing her justice, but of doing another injustice), 
 that I feel myself warranted in sketching some traits and inci- 
 dents of Mrs. Jordan's character and life, all of which I know 
 to be true, and a great proportion whereof I was personally 
 acquainted with. Some degree of mystery has doubtless rested, 
 and will probably continue to rest, on the causes Avhich led that 
 lady to repair to a foreign country, where she perished ; all 
 I shall say, however, on that score, is, that these causes have 
 
HER DEBUT AT THE DUBLIN THEATRE. 407 
 
 never yet been known except to a very limited number of indi- 
 viduals, and never bad, in any sbape or in any degree, bearing 
 or connection witb her former situation. The reports current 
 on this head I know to be utterly unfounded, and many of 
 them I believe to be altogether malicious. 
 
 I am not Mrs. Jordan's biographer ; my observations only 
 apply to abstract portions of her conduct and abstract periods 
 of her life. I had the gratification of knowing intimately that 
 amiable woman and justly-celebrated performer. Her public 
 talents are recorded ; her private merits are known to few; I 
 enjoyed a portion of her confidence on several very particular 
 subject's, and had full opportunity of appreciating her character. 
 It was not by a cursory acquaintance that Mrs. Jordan could 
 be known : unreserved confidence alone could develop her 
 qualities, and none of them escaped my observation. I have 
 known her when in the busy, bustling exercise of her profes- 
 sion : I have known her when in the tranquil lap of ease, of 
 luxury, and of magnificence. I have seen her in a theatre, 
 surrounded by a crowd of adulating dramatists : I have seen 
 her in a palace, surrounded by a numerous, interesting, and 
 beloved offspring. I have seen her happy : I have seen her, 
 alas ! miserable — and I could not help participating in all her 
 feelings. 
 
 At the point of time when I first saw Mrs. Jordan, she could 
 not be much more, I think, than sixteen years of age, and was 
 making her debut, as Miss Francis, at the Dublin theatre. It 
 is worthy of observation that her early appearances in Dublin 
 were not in any of those characters (save one) wherein she 
 afterward so eminently excelled ; but such as, being more girl- 
 ish, were better suited to her spirits and her age. I was then, 
 of course, less competent than now to exercise the critical art, 
 yet could not but observe that in these parts she was perfect 
 even on her first appearance : she had no art, in fact, to study ; 
 Nature was her sole instructress. Youthful, joyous, animated, 
 and droll, her laugh bubbled up from her heart, and her tears 
 welled out ingenuously from the deep spring of feeling. Her 
 countenance was all expression, without being all beauty : her 
 form, then light and elastic — her flexible limbs — the juvenile 
 
408 MRS. JORDAN. 
 
 but indescribable graces of her every movement — impressed 
 themselves, as I perceived, indelibly upon all who attended 
 even her earliest performances. 
 
 Her expressive features and eloquent action at all periods 
 harmonized blandly with each other — not by artifice, however 
 skilful, but by intellectual sympathy ; and when her figure was 
 adapted to the part she assumed, she had only to speak the 
 words of an author to become the very person he delineated. 
 Her voice was clear and distinct, modulating itself with natu- 
 ral and winning ease ; and when exerted in song, its gentle, 
 flute-like melody formed the most captivating contrast to the 
 convulsed and thundering bravura. She was, throughout, the 
 untutored child of Nature : she sang without effort, and gener- 
 ally without the accompaniment of instruments ; and whoever 
 heard her " Dead of the Night," and her " Sweet Bird," either 
 in public or private, if they had any soul, must have surren- 
 dered at discretion. 
 
 In genuine playful, comic characters, such as Belinda, &c, 
 she was unique : but in the formal, dignified, high-bred parts of 
 genteel comedy, her superiority, although great, was not so 
 decided. Her line, indeed, was distinctly marked out, but 
 within its extent she stood altogether unrivalled — nay, unap- 
 proached. 
 
 At the commencement of Mrs. Jordan's theatrical career, she 
 had difficulties to encounter which nothing but superiority of 
 talent could so suddenly have surmounted. Both of the Dublin 
 theatres were filled with performers of high popular reputation, 
 and thus every important part in her line of acting was ably 
 preoccupied. The talent of the female performers, matured 
 by experience and disciplined by practice, must yet have 
 yielded to the fascinating powers of her natural genius, had it 
 been suffered fairly to expand. But the jealousy which never 
 fails to pervade all professions was powerfully excited to re- 
 strain the development of her mimic powers ; and it was re- 
 served for English audiences to give full play and credit to 
 that extraordinary comic genius which soon raised her to the 
 highest pitch at once of popular and critical estimation. 
 
 Mrs. Daly, formerly Miss Barsanti, was foremost among the 
 
FIRST GRAVE INCIDENT IN HER LIFE. '409 
 
 successful occupants of those buoyant characters to which Miss 
 Francis was peculiarly adapted. Other actresses had long 
 filled the remaining parts to which she aspired ; and thus 
 scarcely one was left open to engage her talents. 
 
 Mr. Daly, about this time, resorted to a singular species of 
 theatrical entertainment, by the novelty whereof he proposed 
 to rival his competitors of Smock alley — namely, that of re- 
 versing characters, the men performing the female, and the 
 females the male parts, in comedy and opera. The opera of 
 " The Governess" was played in this way for several nights, 
 the part of Lopez by Miss Francis. In this singular and unim- 
 portant character the versatility of her talent rendered the 
 piece attractive, and the season concluded with a strong anti- 
 cipation of her future celebrity. 
 
 The company then proceeded to perform in the provinces, 
 and at Waterford occurred the first grave incident in the life 
 of Mrs. Jordan. Lieutenant Charles Doyne, of the third regi- 
 ment of heavy horse (Greens), was then quartered in that city ; 
 and, struck with the naivete and almost irresistible attractions 
 of the young performer, his heart yielded, and he became seri- 
 ously and honorably attached to her. Lieutenant Doyne was 
 not handsome, but he was a gentleman and a worthy man, and 
 had been my friend and companion some years at the univer- 
 sity. I knew him intimately, and he intrusted me with his 
 passion. Miss Francis's mother was then alive, and sedulously 
 attended her. Full of ardor and thoughtlessness myself, I ad- 
 vised him, if he could win the young lady, to marry her — 
 adding that no doubt fortune must smile on so disinterested a 
 union. Her mother, however, was of a different opinion ; and 
 as she had no fortune but her talent, the exercise of which was 
 to be relinquished with the name of Francis, it became a mat- 
 ter of serious consideration from what source they were to draw 
 their support — with the probability, too, of a family! His 
 commission was altogether inadequate, and his private fortune 
 very small. This obstacle, in short, was insurmountable : Mrs. 
 Francis, anticipating the future celebrity of her child, and un- 
 willing to extinguish in obscurity all chance of fame and for- 
 
 W 
 
410 MRS. JORDAN. 
 
 tune by- means of the profession she had adopted, worked upon 
 her daughter to decline the proposal. The treaty accordingly 
 ended, and Lieutenant Doyne appeared to me for a little time 
 almost inconsolable. Miss Francis, accompanied by her mother, 
 soon after went over to England, and for nearly twenty years 
 I never saw that unrivalled performer. 
 
 Mr. Owenson, the father of Lady Morgan, was at that time 
 highly celebrated in the line of Irish characters ; and never 
 did an actor exist so perfectly calculated, in my opinion, to 
 personify that singular class of people. Considerably above 
 six feet in height — remarkably handsome and brave-looking 
 — vigorous and well-shaped — he was not vulgar enough to 
 disgust, nor was he genteel enough to be out of character. 
 Never did I see any actor so entirely identify himself with 
 the peculiarities of those parts he assumed. In the highest 
 class of Irish characters (old officers, &c.) he looked well, but 
 did not exhibit sufficient dignity ; and in the lowest, his humor 
 was scarcely quaint and original enough ; but, in what might 
 be termed the middle class of paddies, no man ever combined the 
 look and the manner with such felicity as Owenson. Scientific 
 singing is not an Irish quality ; and he sang well enough. I 
 have heard Jack Johnstone warble so very skilfully, and act 
 some parts so very like a man of first-rate education, that I 
 almost forgot the nation he was mimicking. That was not the 
 case with Owenson : he acted as if he had not received too 
 much schooling, and sang like a man whom nobody had in- 
 structed. He was, like most of his profession, careless of his 
 concerns, and grew old without growing rich. His last friend 
 was old Fontaine, a very celebrated Irish dancing-master — 
 many years domiciliated and highly esteemed in Dublin. He 
 aided Owenson and his family while he had means to do so, 
 and they both died nearly at the same time — instances of 
 talent and improvidence. 
 
 This digression I have ventured on, because, in the first 
 place, it harmonizes with the theatrical nature of my subject, 
 and may be interesting — because it relates to the father of an 
 eminent and amiable woman ; and most particularly, because 
 I was informed that Mr. Owenson took a warm interest in the 
 
HER PRIVATE MEMOIRS CALUMNIES. 411 
 
 welfare of Miss Francis, and was the principal adviser of her 
 mother in rejecting Mr. Doyne's addresses. 
 
 After a lapse of many years I chanced to acquire the honor 
 of a very favorable introduction to his royal-highness the duke 
 of Clarence, who became the efficient friend of me and of my 
 family — not with that high frigid mien which so often renders 
 ungracious the favors of authorities in the British government, 
 but with the frankness and' sincerity of a prince. He received 
 and educated my only son with his own, and sent him, as lieu- 
 tenant of the fifth dragoon guards, to make .his campaigns in 
 the Peninsula. This introduction to his royal-highness and 
 his family gave me full and unerring opportunities of knowing, 
 of appreciating, and valuing, Mrs. Jordan. In her there was 
 no guile; her heart was conspicuous in every word — her feel- 
 ings in every action ; and never did I find, in any character, a 
 more complete concentration of every quality that should dis- 
 tinguish a mother, a friend, and a gentlewoman. 
 
 The outlines of Mrs. Jordan's public life after her connection 
 of twenty-three years with that royal personage are too well 
 known to require recital here. But with respect to her more 
 private memoirs, so much falsehood and exaggeration have 
 gone abroad — so many circumstances have been distorted, and 
 so many facts invented — some of the latter possessing sufficient 
 plausibility to deceive even the most wary — that, if not a 
 duty, it appears at least praiseworthy, to aim at the refutation 
 of such calumnies. 
 
 I have ever felt a great abhorrence of the system of defama- 
 tion on hearsay. Public men, as such, may properly be com- 
 mented on. It is the birthright of the British people to speak 
 fairly their sentiments of those who rule them; but libel on 
 private reputation is a disgusting excrescence upon the body 
 of political freedom, and has latterly grown to an extent so 
 dangerous to individuals, and so disgraceful to the press at 
 large, that it may hereafter afford plausible pretences for cur- 
 tailing the liberty of that organ — the pure and legal exercise 
 of which is the proudest and surest guardian of British free- 
 dom. The present lax, unrestrained, and vicious exuberance 
 of the periodical press, stamps tlie United Kingdom as the very 
 
4:12 MRS. JORDAN. 
 
 focus of libel and defamation in all their ramifications. No 
 reputation — no rank — no character, public or private, neither 
 the living nor the dead, can escape from its licentiousness. 
 One comfort may be drawn from the reflection — that it can 
 proceed no further ; its next movement must be a retrograde 
 one, and I trust the legislature will not permit this retrogres- 
 sion to be long deferred. 
 
 That spirit of licentiousness I have been endeavoring to stig- 
 matize was never more clearly instanced than by the indefati- 
 gable and reiterated attempts (for several years persevered in) 
 to disparage the private reputation of a royal personage, whose 
 domestic habits, and whose wise and commendable abstinence 
 from political party and conflicting factions, should have ex- 
 empted him from the pen and from the tongue of misrepresen- 
 tation, and rendered sacred a character which only requires 
 development to stand as high in the estimation of qyery man 
 who regards the general happiness and power of the empire, 
 as that of any member of the illustrious house from which its 
 owner springs. On this point I speak not lightly : that which 
 I state is neither the mere effusion of gratitude, nor the mean- 
 ness of adulation : the royal personage I allude to would not 
 commend me for the one, nor would I demean myself by the 
 other. 
 
 I can not conclude this digression without reprobating in no 
 measured terms that most dangerous of all calumnious tenden- 
 cies which endeavors systematically to drag down the highest 
 ranks to the level of the lowest, and by laboring to excite a 
 democratic contempt of royal personages, gradually saps the 
 very foundation of constitutional allegiance : such, however, 
 has been a practice of the day, exercised with all the rancor, 
 but without any portion of the ability, of Junius. 
 
 It is deeply to be lamented, that this system has been ex- 
 emplified by some individuals whose literary celebrity might 
 have well afforded them the means of creditable subsistence, 
 without endeavoring to force into circulation works of merce- 
 nary penmanship by wanton slander of the very highest per- 
 sonage in the United Empire. I specify no name : I desig- 
 nate no facts ; if they exist not, it is unimportant ; if they are 
 
IN THE GKEEN-ROOM AND ON THE STAGE. 413 
 
 notorious, the application will not be difficult. It is true that 
 a libeller can not fully atone — yet he may repent; and even 
 that mortification would be a better penance to any calumnia- 
 tor of distinguished talent than to run the risk of being 
 swamped between the Scylla and Charybdis of frivolity and 
 disaffection. 
 
 But to return to the accomplished subject of my sketch : — I 
 have seen her, as she called it, on a cruise, that is, at a provin- 
 cial theatre (Liverpool) ; having gone over once from Dublin 
 for that purpose : she was not then in high spirits ; indeed her 
 tone, in this respect, was not uniform ; in the mornings she 
 usually seemed depressed; at noon she went to rehearsal — 
 came home fatigued, dined at three, and then reclined in her 
 chamber till it was time to dress for the performance. She 
 generally went to the theatre low-spirited. 
 
 I once accompanied Mrs. Jordan to the green-room at Liver- 
 pool : Mrs. Alsop and her old maid assiduously attended her. 
 She went thither languid and apparently reluctant ; but in a 
 quarter of an hour her very nature seemed to undergo a meta- 
 morphosis : the sudden change of her manner appeared to me, 
 in fact, nearly miraculous ; she walked spiritedly across the 
 stage two or three times, as if to measure its extent ; and the 
 moment her foot touched the scenic boards, her spirit seemed 
 to be regenerated ; she cheered up, hummed an air, stepped 
 light and quick, and every symptom of depression vanished ! 
 The comic eye and cordial laugh returned upon their enchan- 
 ting mistress, and announced that she felt herself moving in 
 her proper element. Her attachment to the practice of her 
 profession, in fact, exceeded anything I could conceive. 
 
 Mrs. Jordan delighted in talking over past events. She had 
 strong impressions of everything; and I could perceive was 
 often influenced rather by her feelings than her judgment. 
 
 " How happens it," said I to her, when last in Dublin, " that 
 you still exceed all your profession even in characters not so 
 adapted to you now as when I first saw you % How do you 
 contrive to be so buoyant — nay, so childish, on the stage, 
 while you lose half your spirits, and degenerate into gravity, 
 the moment you are off it?" — "Old habits!" replied Mrs. 
 
414: MRS. JORDAN. 
 
 Jordan, " old habits ! had I formerly studied my positions, 
 weighed my words, and measured my sentences, I should have 
 been artificial, and they might have hissed me ; so, when I 
 had got the words well by heart, I told Nature I was then at 
 her service to do whatever she thought proper with my feet, 
 legs, hands, arms, and features : to her I left the whole matter : 
 I became, in fact, merely her puppet, and never interfered 
 further myself in the business. I heard the audience laugh at 
 at me, and I laughed at myself: they laughed again, so did I : 
 and they gave me credit for matters I knew very little about, 
 and for which Dame Nature, not I, should have received their 
 approbation. 
 
 " The best rule for a performer is to forget, if possible, that 
 any audience is listening. We perform best of all in our clos- 
 ets, and next best to crowded houses : but I scarcely ever saw 
 a good performer who was always eying the audience. If," 
 continued she, " half the gesticulation, half the wit, drollery, 
 and anecdote, which I heard among you all at Curran's priory, 
 at Grattan's cottage, and at your house, had been displayed 
 before an audience, without your knowing that anybody was lis- 
 tening to you, the performance would have been cheered as one 
 of the finest pieces of comic acting possible, though, in fact, 
 your only plot was endeavoring to get tipsy as agreeably as 
 you could." 
 
 This last visit of Mrs. Jordan to the Irish capital took place 
 in the year 1809, and afforded me a still better opportunity of 
 eliciting any trait of her nature or disposition. She was greeted 
 in that metropolis with all the acclamations that her reputation 
 and talent so fully merited : she was well received also among 
 some of the best society in Dublin, whose curiosity was excited 
 beyond measure to converse with her in private. Here, how- 
 ever, she disappointed all ; for there was about her no display 
 — and the animated, lively, brilliant mimic, on the boards, was 
 in the saloon retiring, quiet, nay, almost reserved. Mrs. 
 Jordan, in fact, seldom spoke much in company, but then she 
 spoke well : she made no exertion to appear distinguished, and 
 became more so by the absence of effort. The performer was 
 wholly merged in the gentlewoman ; and thus, although on her 
 
HER LAST VISIT TO DUBLIN. 415 
 
 entrance this celebrated person failed to impress the company, 
 she never failed to retire in possession of their respect. 
 
 On that torn* she told me was very ill-treated by the mana- 
 ger. The understanding was, that Mrs. Jordan was to receive 
 half the profits : yet, although the houses were invariably 
 crowded, the receipts were quite inadequate. Many of the 
 performers, who had been appointed to act with her, were be- 
 low mediocrity, and her presence alone saved them from being 
 scouted. One was forgetful — another drunk : I confess I never 
 myself saw such a crew. All this rendered Mrs. Jordan mis- 
 erable, and she sought relief in the exercise of her benevo- 
 lent feelings. Among other objects of her bounty was an old 
 actor called Barrett, who had played on the night of her debut, 
 and was then in the most indigent circumstances. Him she 
 made comfortable ; and gave efficient assistance to several 
 others whom she had known in former years. 
 
 The managers, I know not why, acted to her without the 
 respect which everybody, except themselves, had shown that 
 most amiable of human beings. She had found it absolutely 
 necessary to refuse acting with one or two vulgar, drunken 
 fellows, belonging to the set whom they had selected to sustain 
 her; and she quitted the country at length, having formed a 
 fixed determination never to repeat any engagement with the 
 persons who then managed the theatricals of Dublin. 
 
 She had scarcely arrived in England, when some of the 
 parties, including one Mr. Dwyer, a player, quarrelled ; and 
 actions for defamation were brought forward among them. A 
 man >f the name of Corri, also, published periodical libels, in 
 one of which he paid Mrs. Jordan the compliment of associa- 
 ting her with the duchess of Gordon : I and my family had 
 likewise the honor of partaking in the abuse of that libel, and 
 I prosecuted the printer. On the trial of the cause, one of the 
 counsel, Mr. Thomas (now Sergeant) Gold, thought proper to 
 indulge himself in language and statements respecting Mrs. 
 Jordan, neither founded in fact nor delicate in a gentleman. 
 In cross-examining me as a witness, on the prosecution of the 
 printer, he essayed a line of interrogation disparaging to the 
 character of that lady ; but that learned person always took 
 
416 MRS. JOKDAN. 
 
 care not to go too far with me, or to risk offending me in my 
 presence : a monosyllable, or an intimation even, I ever found 
 quite sufficient to check the exuberance of " my learned 
 friend;" and on this occasion he was not backward in taking 
 my hint : he grew tame, the libeller was found guilty, and 
 justly sentenced to a protracted imprisonment. 
 
 I never knew Mrs. Jordan feel so much as at the wanton 
 conduct of Mr. Thomas Gold on that occasion : his speech, as 
 it appeared in the newspapers, was too gross even for the vul- 
 garest declaimer ; but when Mrs. Jordan's situation, her family, 
 and her merits, were considered, it was altogether inexcusable. 
 I do not state this feeling of Mrs. Jordan solely from my own 
 impression : I received from her a letter indicative of the 
 anguish which that gentleman had excited in her feelings, and 
 I should do injustice to her memory if I did not publish her 
 justification : — 
 
 "Bushy House, Wednesday. 
 
 " My Dear Sir : Not having the least suspicion of the busi- 
 ness in Dublin, it shocked and grieved me very much ; not 
 only on my own account, but I regret that I should have been 
 the involuntary cause of anything painful to you, or to your 
 amiable family. But of Mr. Jones I can think anything : and I 
 beg you will do me the justice to believe that 'my feelings are 
 not selfish. Why, indeed, should / expect to escape their 
 infamous calumnies 1 Truth, however, will force its way, and 
 justice exterminate that nest of vipers. I wanted nothing 
 from Mr. Crompton's generosity, but I had a claim on his jus- 
 tice — his lionor, * * * * 
 
 " During the two representations of ' The Inconstant,' I rep- 
 resented to him the state Mr. Dwyer was in, and implored him, 
 out of respect to the audience, if not in pity to my terrors, to 
 change the play. As to the libel on Mr. Dwyer, charged to 
 me by Mr. Gold, I never directly or indirectly, by words or by 
 writing, demeaned myself by interfering in the most remote 
 degree with so wretched a concern. I knew no editor, I read 
 no newspapers, while in Dublin. The charge is false and libel- 
 lous on me, published, I presume, through Mr. Gold's assist- 
 ance. Under that view of the case, he will feel himself rather 
 
CONTINUANCE ON THE STAGE. 417 
 
 unpleasantly circumstanced, should I call upon him to either 
 prove or disavow his assertions. To be introduced any way 
 into such a business, shocks and grieves me : he might have 
 pleaded for his companions without calumniating me ; but, for 
 the present, I shall drop an irksome subject, which has already 
 given me more than ordinary uneasiness. 
 
 " Yours, &c. " Dora Jordan." 
 
 * 4f, jfc jfc 4fc 4fr jk 
 
 TT TT "7P VP "TV" TT 
 
 She requested my advice as to bringing an action for defa- 
 mation. My reply was one that I had heard most adroitly 
 given by Sir John Doyle, upon another occasion : " If you 
 wrestle with a chimney-sweeper, it is true you may throw your 
 antagonist ; but yojir own coat will certainly be dirtied by the 
 encounter." 
 
 Never was there a better aphorism. Mrs. Jordan took my 
 advice, and satisfied herself with despising instead of punish- 
 ing her calumniators. 
 
 I have seen this accomplished woman at Bushy in the midst 
 of one of the finest families in England, surrounded by splen- 
 dor, beloved, respected, and treated with all the deference 
 paid to a member of high life. I could perceive, indeed, no 
 offset to her comforts and gratification. She was, in my hear- 
 ing, frequently solicited by the royal personage to retire from 
 her profession ; she was urged to forego all further emoluments 
 from its pursuit : and this single fact gives the contradiction 
 direct to reports which I should feel it improper even to allude 
 to further. Her constant reply was, that she would retire 
 when Mrs. Siddons did ; but that her losses by the fire at 
 Covent-Grarden, together with other incidental outgoings, had 
 been so extensive, as to induce her continuance of the profes- 
 sion to replace her finances. Her promise to retire with Mrs. 
 Siddons, however, she did not act up to, but continued to grat- 
 ify the public, with enormous profit to herself, down to the very 
 last year she remained in England. It is matter of fact, too, 
 though perhaps here out of place, that, so far from a desertion 
 of this lady by that royal personage, as falsely reported, to 
 the last hour of her life his solicitude was undiminished ; and 
 though separated by her own desire, for causes not discrefUta- 
 
 18* 
 
418 MRS. JORDAN. 
 
 ble to either, lie never lost sight of her interest or her comforts. 
 It was not the nature of his royal highness — he was incapable 
 of that little less than crime toward Mrs. Jordan — which had, 
 indeed, no foundation, save in the vicious representation of 
 hungry or avaricious editors, or in the scurrility of those hack- 
 neyed and indiscriminate enemies of rank and reputation, 
 whose aspersions are equally a disgrace and an injury to the 
 country wherein they are tolerated.^ 
 
 To contribute toward the prevention of all further doubt as 
 to Mrs. Jordan's unmixed happiness at the period of her resi- 
 dence at Bushy, as well as to exhibit the benevolence of her 
 heart and the warmth of her attachments, I will introduce at 
 this point extracts from some other letters addressed to myself : 
 
 " Bushy. 
 
 " My Dear Sir : I can not resist the pleasure of informing 
 you that your dear boy has not only passed, but passed with 
 great credit, at the military college : it gives us all the highest 
 satisfaction. My two beloved boys are now at home : they have 
 both gone to South hill to see your Edward. We shall have 
 a full and merry house at Christmas ; 'tis what the dear duke 
 delights in : a happier set, when all together, I believe never 
 yet existed. The ill-natured parts of the world never can 
 enjoy the tranquil pleasures of domestic happiness. 
 
 * * # ■ • # # # * 
 
 " I have made two most lucrative trips since I saw you. Ad- 
 kinson came to see me at Liverpool — quite as poetical as ever, 
 and the best-natured 2 J oet, I believe, in the world. 
 
 " Yours, ever truly, "Dora Jordan." 
 
 " Bushy. 
 u My Dear Sir : I have returned here on the 7th inst., after 
 a very fatiguing though very prosperous cruise of five weeks, 
 and found all as well as I could wish. Your Edward left us 
 this morning for Mario w : I found him improved in everything. 
 I never saw the duke enjoy anything more than the poultry 
 you sent us ; they were delicious : he desires me to offer his 
 best regards to yourself and your ladies. Lucy is gone on a 
 visit to Lady De Ross. 
 
 " Yours, most truly, " Dora Jordan." 
 
EXTRACTS^ FROM HER LETTERS. 419 
 
 " Bushy. 
 
 " My Dear Sir : I have returned here — but, alas ! the hap- 
 piness I had promised to myself has met a cruel check at find- 
 ing the good duke very unwell. You can scarcely conceive 
 my misery at the cause of such a disappointment : but there is 
 every appearance of a favorable result not being very distant ; 
 'tis his old periodical attack, but not near so severe as I have 
 seen it. I shall not write to you, as I intended, till I can an- 
 nounce his royal highness's recovery. I shall have neither 
 head nor nerves to write, or even to think, till I am able to 
 contribute to your pleasure, by announcing my own happiness 
 and his recovery. * * * * , &c. 
 
 " Dora Jordan." 
 " Sir J. Barrington, [ 
 
 " Merrion square, Dublin." j 
 
 " Bushy. 
 
 " We have just returned from Maidenhead ; and I postponed 
 writing to you till I could give you an account of Edward, who, 
 with Colonel Butler, dined with us there : he looks wonder- 
 fully well, and the uniform becomes him extremely. On the 
 ladies leaving the room, Colonel Butler gave the duke a very 
 favorable account of him ; and I trust it will give you and 
 Lady Barrington the more satisfaction, when I assure you that 
 jt is by no means a partial account. 
 
 " I am sure you will be pleased to hear that your young 
 friend Lucy is about to be married, much to my satisfaction, 
 to Colonel Hawker, of the 14th dragoons. He is a most ex- 
 cellent man, and has a very good private property. She will 
 make the best of wives — a better girl never yet lived. It 
 makes me quite happy, and I intend to give her the value of 
 ten thousand pounds. * * * * , &c. 
 
 " Dora Jordan." 
 
 The days of Mrs. Jordan continued to pass on alternately 
 in the exercise of a lucrative profession, and the domestic en- 
 joyment of an adoring family, when circumstances (which, be- 
 cause mysterious, the public construed necessarily to imply 
 culpability somewhere or other) occasioned a separation — cer- 
 tainly an event most unexpected by those who had previously 
 
420 MRS. JORDAN. 
 
 • 
 
 known the happy state of her connection. In me it would be 
 worse than presumption to enter into any detail on a subject 
 at once so private, so delicate, and so interesting. Suffice it 
 to say that, of all the accounts and surmises as to that event 
 in which the public prints were pleased to indulge themselves, 
 not one that came under my eye was true. Indeed, there was 
 scarcely a single incident whereto that separation was publicly 
 attributed, that had any degree of foundation whatsoever. 
 Such circumstances should ever remain known only to those 
 who feel the impropriety of amusing the readers at a news- 
 room with subjects of domestic pain and family importance. I 
 will, however, repeat that the separation took effect from 
 causes no way dishonorable to either party : that it was not 
 sought for by the royal personage, nor necessary on the part 
 of the lady. It was too hasty to be discreet, and too much in- 
 fluenced by feelings of the moment to be hearty. Though not 
 unacquainted with those circumstances, I never presumed to 
 make an observation upon the subject, save to contradict, in 
 direct terms, statements which, at the time I heard them, I 
 knew to be totally unfounded ; and never was the British press 
 more prostituted than in the malicious coloring given upon that 
 occasion to the conduct of his royal highness. 
 
 General Hawker, one of the late king's aids-de-camp, had 
 married Miss Jordan ; and in the punctilious honor and integ- 
 rity of this gentleman, everybody who knew and knows him 
 did and does rely with unmixed confidence. Such reliance 
 his royal highness evinced by sending, through him, carte 
 blanche to Mrs. Jordan, when the separation had been deter- 
 mined on, enabling her to dictate whatever she conceived 
 would be fully adequate to her maintenance, without recur- 
 rence to her profession, in all the comforts and luxuries to 
 which she had been so long accustomed ; and everything she 
 wished for was arranged to her satisfaction. Still, however, infat- 
 uated with attachment to theatrical pursuits, she continued to 
 accept of temporary engagements to her great profit : and it 
 will perhaps scarcely be credited that so unsated were British 
 audiences with Mrs. Jordan's unrivalled performances, that 
 even at her time of life, with certainly diminished powers and 
 
HER RETIREMENT TO FRANCE. 421 
 
 an altered person, the very last year she remained in England 
 brought her a clear profit of near seven thousand pounds ! I 
 can not he mistaken in this statement, for my authority could 
 not err on that point. The malicious representations, there- 
 fore, of her having been left straitened in pecuniary circum- 
 stances, were literally fabulous ; for, to the very moment of 
 her death, she remained in full possession of all the means of 
 comfort — nay, if she chose it, of luxury and splendor. Why, 
 therefore, she emigrated, pined away, and expired in a foreign 
 country (of whose language she was ignorant, and in whose 
 habits she was wholly unversed), with every appearance of ne- 
 cessity, is also considered a mystery by those unacquainted with 
 the cruel and disastrous circumstances which caused that un- 
 fortunate catastrophe. It is not by my pen that miserable 
 story shall be j^ld. It was a transaction wherein her royal 
 friend had, directly or indirectly, no concern, nor did it in any 
 way spring out of that connection. She had, in fact, only to 
 accuse herself of benevolence, confidence, and honor : to those 
 demerits, and to the worse than ingratitude of others, she fell 
 a lingering, broken-hearted victim. 
 
 When his royal highness was informed of the determination 
 that Mrs. Jordan should take up a temporary residence on the 
 continent, he insisted on her retaining the attendance of Miss 
 Kitchley, who for many years had been attached to the estab- 
 lishment at Bushy, and was superintendent and governess of 
 the duke's children. This lady, therefore, whose sincere at- 
 tachment had been so long and truly proved, accompanied Mrs. 
 Jordan as' her companion, and to the time of her death contin- 
 ued to minister to her comforts — endeavoring, so far as in her 
 lay, by her society and attentions, to solace the mental misery 
 which pressed upon her friend's health and had extinguished 
 her spirits. She was also accompanied by Colonel Hawker, the 
 general's brother : but, as she wished, during her residence in 
 France, to be totally retired, she took no suite. She selected 
 Boulogne as a place of convenient proximity to England ; and, 
 in a cottage half a mile from that town, awaited with indescri- 
 bable anxiety the completion of those affairs which had occa- 
 sioned her departure, rapturously anticipating the happiness 
 of embracing her children afresh after a painful absence. 
 
422 MRS. JORDAN IN FRANCE. 
 
 MRS. JORDAN IN FRANCE. 
 
 Decline of Mrs. Jordan's Health — Description of her Cottage and Grounds at Boulogne-sur- 
 Mer — Madame Ducamp and her Servant Agnes — Their Account of Mrs. Jordan's Habits 
 and Manners — Removal of that Lady to Versailles, and subsequently to St. Cloud — Ac- 
 count of her Illness and Last Moments. 
 
 Such was the nature of the circumstances which impelled 
 Mrs. Jordan to repair to the continent ; and, after what has 
 been said, the reader will not think it extraordinary that a 
 deep impression was made upon her health — not, indeed, in 
 the shape of actual disease, but by the workings of a troubled 
 spirit, pondering and drooping over exaggerated misfortunes, 
 and encountering obstacle after obstacle. Estranged from 
 those she loved, as also from that profession the resort to 
 which had never failed to restore her animation and amuse 
 her fancy, mental malady soon communicated its contagion 
 to the physical organization, and sickness began to make visi- 
 ble inroads on the heretofore healthy person of that lamented 
 lady. 
 
 We have seen that she established herself, in the first place, 
 at Boulogne-sur-Mer. A cottage was selected by her at Mar- 
 quetra, about a quarter of a mile from the gate of the fortress. 
 Often have I since, as if on classic ground, strolled down the 
 little garden which had been there her greatest solace. The 
 cottage is very small, but neat, commodious, and of a cheerful 
 aspect. A flower and fruit garden of corresponding dimen- 
 sions, and a little paddock (comprising less than half an acre) 
 formed her demesne. In an adjoining cottage resided her old 
 landlady, Madame Ducamp, who was in a state of competence, 
 and altogether an original. She had married a gardener, much 
 younger and of humbler birth than herself. I think she had 
 been once handsome ; her story I never heard fully ; but it 
 appeared that she had flourished during the revolution. 
 She spoke English well, when she pleased ; and, like most 
 French women, when d'dge mu?; was querulous, intrusive, and 
 curious beyond limitation, with as much iirofcsse d good nature as 
 
MADAME DUCAMP AND HER SERVANT AGNES. 423 
 
 would serve at least fifty of our old English gentlewoman. 
 She was not, in good truth, devoid of the reality as well as the 
 semblance of that quality : but she overacted the philanthropist, 
 and consequently did not deceive those accustomed to look 
 lower than the surface. This good laiy is still in statu quo, 
 and most likely to remain so. 
 
 Under color of taking her vacant cottage for a friend, a 
 party of us went to Marquetra, to learn what we could respect- 
 ing Mrs. Jordan's residence there. The old lady recognised 
 her name, but pronounced it in a way which it was scarcely 
 possible for us to recognise. A long conversation ensued, in 
 some parts as deeply interesting, and in others nearly as ludi- 
 crous as the subject could admit of. Madame Ducamp repeated 
 to us a hundred times, in five minutes, that she had " beaucoup 
 beaucoup de veneration pour cette chere, chere malheureuse 
 dame Anglaise !" whom she assured us, with a deep sigh, was 
 "sans doute un ange superieur!" She was proceeding to tell 
 us everything she knew, or I suppose could invent, when, 
 perceiving a child in the garden pulling the flowers, she 
 abruptly discontinued her eulogium, and ran off to drive away 
 the intruder — having done which, she returned to resume : but 
 too late ! in her absence her place had been fully and fairly 
 occupied by Agnes, an ordinary French girl, Madame Du- 
 camp's bonne (servant of all work), whom we soon found was 
 likely to prove a much more truth-telling person than her 
 mistress. 
 
 Agnes informed us, with great feeling, that " the economy 
 of that charming lady was very strict : necessaircment, je crains," 
 added she, with a slow movement of her head and a truly 
 eloquent look. They had found out (she said) that their 
 lodger had been once ricJie et magnijique, but when there she 
 was very — very poor indeed. " But," exclaimed the poor girl, 
 her eye brightening up and her tone becoming firmer, " that 
 could make no difference to me! si fai??ie,faime / J'ai servi 
 ■cette pauvre dame avec le me?ne zele (peut-etre encore phis) que si 
 elle cut cte une princesse /" 
 
 This frank-hearted display of poor Agnes' sentiments was, 
 however, not in fact called for in speaking of Mrs. Jordan, 
 
424 MRS. JORDAN IN FRANCE. 
 
 since she might have commanded, during the whole period of 
 her continental residence, any sums she thought proper. She 
 had money in the hank, in the funds, and in miscellaneous 
 property, and had just before received several thousands. But 
 she was become nearly careless, as well of pecuniary as other 
 matters, and took up a whim (for it was nothing more) to affect 
 poverty, thus deceiving the world, and giving, herself, a van- 
 tage ground to the gossiping and censorious. 
 
 Agnes' information went on to show that Mrs. Jordan's 
 whole time was passed in anxious expectation of letters from 
 England, and on the English postdays she was peculiarly 
 miserable. We collected from the girl that her garden and 
 guitar were her only resources against that consuming melan- 
 choly which steals away even the elements of existence, and 
 plunges both body and mind into a state of morbid languor — 
 the fruitful parent of disease, insanity, and death. 
 
 At this point of the story, Madame Ducamp would no longer 
 be restrained, and returned to the charge with redoubled 
 assertions of her own friendship to " the poor lady," and bonne 
 nature in general. 
 
 "Did you know her, monsieur'?" said she: •' alas ! she 
 nearly broke my heart by trying to break her oum." 
 
 " I have heard of her since I arrived here, madame," replied 
 I cautiously. 
 
 " Ah ! monsieur, monsieur," rejoined Madame Ducamp, " if 
 you had known her as well as Agnes and I did, you would 
 have loved her just as much. I am sure she had been accus- 
 tomed to grandeur, though I could never clearly make out the 
 cause of her reverses. Ah !" pursued madame, " she was amia- 
 ble et honnete beyond description ; and though so very poor, 
 paid her louage like a goddess." At this moment some other 
 matter, perhaps suggested by the w T ord louage, came across the 
 old woman's brain, and she again trotted off. The remaining 
 intelligence which we gathered from Agnes, related chiefly to 
 Mrs. Jordan's fondness for music and perpetual indulgence 
 therein — and to her own little achievements in the musical 
 way, whereby, she told us with infinite naivete, she had fre- 
 quently experienced the gratification of playing and singing 
 
A CONTUSION OF TONGUES. 425 
 
 madame to sleep ! She said that there was some little mutual 
 difficulty in the first place as to understanding each other, since 
 the stranger was ignorant of the French language, and she 
 herself '• had not the honor" to speak English. " However," 
 continued Agnes, " we formed a sort of language of our own, 
 consisting of looks and signs, and in these madame was more 
 eloquent than any other person I had ever known." Here the 
 girl's recollections seemed fairly to overcome her ; and with 
 that apparently exaggerated sensibility which is, nevertheless, 
 natural to the character of her country, she burst into tears, 
 exclaiming, " Oh del! oh ciel ! — elle est morte ! elle est morte /"* 
 
 I can not help thinking that the deep and indelible impres- 
 sion thus made by Mrs. Jordan upon an humble unsophisticated 
 servant-girl, exemplifies her kind and winning manners better 
 than would the most labored harangues of a whole host of 
 biographers. 
 
 Madame Ducamp meanwhile had been fidgeting about, and 
 arranging everything to show off her cottage to the greatest 
 
 * The intermixed French phrases which I have retained in sketching this 
 conversation at Marquetra may, perhaps, appear affected to some; and I 
 frankly admit, there are few things in composition so disagreeable to me, as 
 a jumble of words culled from different tongues, and constituting a melange 
 which advances no just claim to the title of any language whatever. But 
 those who are accustomed to the familiar terms and expressive ejaculations 
 of French colloquy, know that the idiomatic mode of expression only can 
 convey the true point and spirit of the dialogue, and more particularly does 
 this observation apply to the variegated traits of character belonging to 
 French females. 
 
 The conversation with Agnes consisted, on her part, nearly of broken 
 sentences throughout — I may say, almost of looks and monosyllables! at all 
 events, of simple and expressive words in a combination utterly unadapted 
 to the English tongue. Let a well-educated and unprejudiced gentleman 
 hold converse on the same topics with an English and a French girl, and 
 his remarks as to the difference will not fail to illustrate what I have said. 
 
 Far — very far be it from me, to depreciate the fair ones of our own coun- 
 try. I believe that they are steadier and better calculated to describe facts, 
 or to advise in an emergency : but they must not be offended with me for 
 adding, that in the expression of every feeling, either of a lively or tearful 
 nature, as well as in the graces of motion, their elastic neighbors are im- 
 measurably superior. Even their eyes speak idioms which our less pliable 
 language can not explain. I have seen humble girls in France who speak 
 more in one second than many of our finest ladies could utter in almost a 
 century! Chaqu'un a son gout, however; and I honestly confess, that a 
 sensitive French girl would make but an ill-assorted match with a thorough- 
 bred John Bull. 
 
426 MRS. JORDAN IN FRANCE. 
 
 advantage; and without farther conversation, except as to the 
 price of the tenement, we parted with mutual " assurances of 
 the highest consideration." 
 
 I renewed my visits to the old woman ; but her stories were 
 either so fabulous or disconnected, and those of Agnes so un- 
 varied, that I saw no probability of acquiring further informa- 
 tion, and lost sight of Mrs. Jordan's situation for a considerable 
 time after her departure from Boulogne. I thought it, by-the- 
 by, very extraordinary, that neither the mistress nor maid said 
 a word about any attendant of Mrs. Jordan, even although it 
 was not till long after that I heard of Col. Hawker and Miss 
 .Kitchley having accompanied her from England. After Mrs. 
 Jordan had left Boulogne, it appears that she repaired to Ver- 
 sailles, and subsequently, in still greater secrecy, to St. Cloud, 
 where, totally secluded and under the name of Johnson, she 
 continued to await, in a state of extreme depression and with 
 agitated impatience, the answer to some letters, by which was 
 to be determined her future conduct as to the distressing busi- 
 ness that had led her to the continent. Her solicitude arose 
 not so much from the real importance of this affair as from her 
 indignation and disgust at the ingratitude which had been 
 displayed toward her, and which, by drawing aside the curtain 
 from before her unwilling eyes, had exposed a novel and pain- 
 ful view of human nature. 
 
 I at that period occupied a large hotel adjoining the Bois 
 de Boulogne. Not a mile intervened between us : yet, until 
 long after 3VTrs. Jordan's decease, I never heard she was in my 
 neighborhood. There was no occasion whatever for such en- 
 tire seclusion ; but the anguish of her mind had by this time 
 so enfeebled her, that a bilious complaint was generated, and 
 gradually increased. Its growth, indeed, did not appear to 
 give her much uneasiness — so dejected and lost had she 
 become. Day after day her misery augmented, and at length 
 she seemed, we were told, actually to regard the approach of 
 dissolution with a kind of placid welcome. 
 
 The apartments she occupied at St. Cloud were in a house 
 in the square adjoining the palace. This house was large, 
 gloomy, cold, and inconvenient ; just the sort of place, which 
 
HER ABODE AT ST. CLOUD. 427 
 
 would tell in description in a romance. In fact it looked to 
 me almost in a state of dilapidation. I could not, I am sure, 
 wander over it at night without a superstitious feeling. The 
 rooms were numerous, but small ; the furniture scanty, old, 
 and tattered. The hotel had obviously once belonged to 
 some nobleman, and a long, lofty, flagged gallery stretched 
 from one wing of it to the other. Mrs. Jordan's chambers 
 were shabby : no English comforts solaced her in her latter 
 moments ! In her little drawing-room, a small old sofa was 
 the best-looking piece of furniture : on this she constantly re- 
 clined, and on it she expired.* 
 
 The account given to us of her last moments, by the master 
 of the. house, was very affecting : he likewise thought she was 
 poor, and offered her the use of money, which offer was of 
 course declined. Nevertheless, he said, he always considered 
 her apparent poverty, and a magnificent diamond ring which 
 she constantly wore, as quite incompatible, and to him inex- 
 plicable. I have happened to learn since, that she gave four 
 hundred guineas for that superb ring. She had also with her, 
 as I heard, many other valuable trinkets ; and on her death, 
 seals were put upon all her effects, which I understand still 
 remain unclaimed by any legal heir. 
 
 From the time of her arrival at St. Cloud, it appears, Mrs. 
 Jordan had exhibited the most restless anxiety for intelli- 
 gence from England. Every post gave rise to increased solici- 
 tude, and every letter she received seemed to have a differ- 
 ent effect on her feelings. Latterly she appeared more anxious 
 and miserable than usual : her uneasiness increased almost 
 momentarily, and her skin became wholly discolored. From 
 morning till night, she lay sighing upon her sofa. 
 
 * When I saw Mrs. Jordan's abode at St. Cloud first, it was on a dismal 
 and chilly day, and I was myself in corresponding mood. Hence perhaps 
 every cheerless object was exaggerated, and I wrote on the spot the above 
 description. I have again viewed the place: again beheld with melancholy 
 interest the sofa on which Mrs. Jordan breathed her last. There it still, I 
 believe, remains; but the whole premises have been repaired, and an English 
 family now has one wing, together with an excellent garden, before over- 
 grown with weeds; the two melancholy cypress-trees I first saw there, yet 
 remain. The surrounding prospect is undoubtedly very fine; but I would 
 not, even were I made a present of that mansion, consent to reside in it one 
 month. 
 
428 MRS. JOKDAN IN FRANCE. 
 
 At length an interval of some posts occurred, during which 
 she received no answers to her letters, and her consequent 
 anxiety, my informant said, seemed too great for mortal 
 strength to bear up against. On the morning of her death, 
 this impatient feeling reached its crisis. The agitation was 
 almost fearful ; her eye was now restless, now fixed ; her 
 motion rapid and unmeaning ; and her whole manner seemed 
 to bespeak the attack of some convulsive paroxysm. She 
 eagerly requested Mr. C . . ., before the usual hour of deliv- 
 ery, to go for her letters to the post. On his return, she started 
 up and held out her hand, as if impatient to receive them. 
 He told here there were none. She stood a moment motion- 
 less ; looked toward him with a vacant stare ; held out her 
 hand again ; as if by an involuntary action ; instantly with- 
 drew it, and sank back upon the sofa from which she had 
 arisen. He left the room to send up her attendant, who how- 
 ever had gone out, and Mr. . . . returned himself to Mrs. 
 Jordan. On his return, he observed some change in her looks 
 that alarmed him : she spoke not a word, but gazed at him 
 steadfastly. She wept not — no tear flowed : her face was one 
 moment flushed and another livid : she sighed deeply, and her 
 heart seemed bursting. Mr. C . . . stood uncertain what to 
 do : but in a minute he heard her breath drawn more hardly 
 and as it were sobbingly. He was now thoroughly terrified : 
 he hastily approached the sofa, and leaning over the unfortu- 
 nate lady discovered that those deep-drawn sobs had immedi- 
 ately preceded the moment of Mrs. Jordan's dissolution. She 
 was already no more ! 
 
 Thus terminated the worldly career of a woman at the very 
 head of her profession, and one of the best-hearted of her sex ! 
 Thus did she expire, after a life of celebrity and magnificence, 
 in exile and solitude, and literally of a broken heart ! She 
 was buried by Mr. Foster, now chaplain to the embassador. 
 
 Our informant told this little story with a feeling which evi- 
 dently was not affected. The French have a mode of narra- 
 ting even trivial matters with gesticulation and detail, where- 
 by they are impressed on your memory. The slightest inci- 
 dent they repeat with emphasis ; and on this occasion Mr. 
 
DIVERSITY OF THE AUTIIOIi's PURSUITS. 429 
 
 . . . completed his account without any of those digressions 
 in which his countrymen so frequently indulge. 
 
 Several English friends at Paris, a few years ago, entered 
 into a determination to remove Mrs. Jordan's body to Pere le 
 Chaise, and place a marble over her grave. The subscription, 
 had the plan been proceeded in, would have been ample ; but 
 some (I think rather mistaken) ideas of delicacy at that time 
 suspended its execution. As it is, I believe I may say, " Not 
 a stone tells where she lies !" But, spirit of a gentle, affec- 
 tionate, and excellent human being ! receive, if permitted, the 
 aspirations breathed by one who knew thy virtues (and who 
 regrets, while he bows to the mysterious providence which 
 doomed them to so sad an extinction) for thy eternal repose 
 and happiness ! 
 
 MEMORY. 
 
 Diversity of the Author's Pursuits — Superficial Acquirements contrasted with Solid — Vari- 
 ety and Change of Study conducive to Health — Breed in ir Ideas — How to avoid Ennui 
 — The Principles of Memory and Fear — The Author's Theory respecting the Former, 
 and his Motive for its Introduction. 
 
 My pursuits from my earliest days have been (right or 
 wrong) all of my own selection : some of these were rather of 
 a whimsical character ; others merely adapted pour passer le 
 temps ; a few of a graver and more solid cast. On the whole, 
 I believe J may boast that few persons, If any, of similar stand- 
 ing in society, have had a greater variety of occupations than 
 myself. 
 
 The truth is, I never suffered my mind to stagnate one 
 moment ; and unremittingly sought to bring it so far under my 
 own control, as to be enabled to turn its energies at all times, 
 promptly and without difficulty, from the lightest pursuits to 
 the most serious business ; and, for the time being, to occupy it 
 exclusively on a single subject. 
 
 My system (if such it may be called) led me to fancy a gen- 
 eral dabbling in all sciences, arts, and literature — just suffi- 
 cient to feed my intellect, and keep my mind busy and afloat 
 
430 
 
 MEMOKY. 
 
 without being overloaded : thus, I dipped irregularly into nu- 
 merous elementary treatises, embracing a great variety of sub- 
 jects — among which, even theology, chemistry, physic, anat- 
 omy, and architecture («to say nothing of politics or mathemat- 
 ics), were included. In a word, I looked into every species 
 of publication I could lay my hands on : and I never have 
 been honored by one second of ennui, or felt a propensity to 
 an hour's languor during my existence. 
 
 This fanciful — the reader may, if he pleases, say superficial 
 and frivolous species of self-education — would, I doubt not, be 
 scouted with contempt by learned LL. D.'s, bachelors of arts,' 
 fellows of colleges, wranglers at universities, &c. These gen- 
 tlemen very properly saturate their capacities with more solid 
 stuff, each imbibing even to the dregs one or two dignified, 
 substantial sciences, garnished with dead languages, and served 
 up to their pupils with a proper seasoning of pedantry and im- 
 portance. Thus they enjoy the gratification of being wiser 
 than their neighbors without much troubling their organs of 
 variety — a plan, I readily admit, more appropriate to learn- 
 ing and philosophy, and perhaps more useful to others : but, 
 at the same time, I contend that mine (and I speak with the 
 experience of a long life) is conducive in a greater degree to 
 pleasure, to health, to happiness ; and, I shrewdly suspect, far 
 more convenient to the greater number of capacities. 
 
 A certain portion of external and internal variety, like 
 change of air, keeps the animal functions in due activity, while 
 it renders the mind supple and elastic, and more capable of 
 accommodating itself with promptitude to those difficult and 
 trying circumstances into which the vicissitudes of life may 
 plunge it. I admire and respect solid learning ; but even a 
 superficial knowledge of a variety of subjects tends to excite 
 that inexhaustible succession of thoughts which, at hand on 
 every emergency, gives tone and vigor to both the head and 
 heart, not unfrequently excluding more unwelcome visiters. 
 
 All my life I perceived the advantage of breeding ideas : the 
 brain can never be too populous, so long as you keep its inhab- 
 itants in that wholesome state of discipline that they are under 
 your command, and not you under theirs ; and, above all things, 
 
PRESERVATIOxV OF SIGHT. 431 
 
 never suffer a mob of them to come jostling each other in your 
 head at a time : keep them as distinct as possible, or it is a 
 hundred to one they will make a blockhead of you at last ! 
 
 From this habit it has ensued that the longest day is always 
 too short for me. When in tranquil mood, I find my ideas as 
 playful as kittens ; Avhen chagrined, consolatory fancies are 
 never wanting. If I groAv weary of thoughts relating to the 
 present, my memory carries me back fifty or sixty years with 
 equal politeness and activity; and never ceases shifting — 
 time, place, and person — till it beats out something that is 
 agreeable. 
 
 I had naturally very feeble sight. At fifty years of age, to 
 my extreme surprise, I found it had strengthened so much as 
 to render the continued use of spectacles unnecessary ; and 
 now I can peruse the smallest print without any glass, and can 
 write a hand so minute, that I know several elderly gentle- 
 men of my own decimal who can not conquer it even with 
 their reading-glasses. For general use, I remark that I have 
 found my sight more confused by poring for a given length of 
 time over one book, than in double that time when shifting 
 from one print to another, and changing the place I sat in, and 
 of course the quality of light and reflection. To a neglect of 
 such precautions, I attribute many of the weak and near vis- 
 ions so common with students. 
 
 But another quality of inestimable value I possess, thank 
 Heaven, in a degree which, at my time of life, if not supernat- 
 ural, is not very far from it — a memory of the greatest and 
 most wide-ranging powers : its retrospect is astonishing to my- 
 self, and has wonderfully increased since my necessary appli- 
 cation to a single science has been dispensed with. The rec- 
 ollection of one early incident of our lives never fails to intro- 
 duce another ; and the marked occurrences of my life from 
 childhood to the wrong side of a grand climacteric are at this 
 moment fresh in my memory, in all their natural tints, as at 
 the instant of their occurrence. 
 
 Without awarding any extraordinary merit either to the 
 brain or to those human organs that are generally regarded as 
 the seat of recollection or rather retention of ideas, I think 
 
432 MEMORY. 
 
 this fact may be accounted for in a much simpler way — more 
 on philGSopJiical than on organic principles. I do not insist on 
 TAy theory being a true one ; but as it is, like Touchstone's 
 £,rest-treasure, "my own," I like it, and am content to hold 
 by it " for better or for worse." 
 
 The two qualities of the human mind with which we are 
 most strongly endowed in childhood are those of fear and 
 memory ; both of which accompany us throughout all our 
 worldly peregrinations — with this difference, that with age 
 the one generally declines, while the other increases. 
 
 The mind has a tablet whereon Memory begins to engrave 
 occurrences even in our earliest days, and which in old age is 
 full of her handywork, so that there is no room for any more 
 inscriptions. Hence old people recollect occurrences long past 
 better than those of more recent date ; and though an old per- 
 son can faithfully recount the exploits of his schoolfellows, he 
 will scarcely recollect what he himself was doing the day be- 
 fore yesterday ! 
 
 It is also observable that the recollection, at an advanced 
 period, of the incidents of childhood, does not require that ex- 
 tent of memory which at first sight may appear essential ; 
 neither is it necessary to bound at once over the wide gulf of 
 life between sixty years and three. 
 
 Memory results from a connected sequence of thought and 
 observation : so that intervening occurrences draw up the rec- 
 ollection, as it were, to preceding ones, and thus each fresh- 
 excited act of remembrance in fact operates as a new incident. 
 When a person recollects well (as one is apt to do) a correc- 
 tion which he received in his childhood, or while a schoolboy, 
 he probably owes his recollection, not to the whipping, but to 
 the name of the hook which he was whipped for neglecting ; 
 and whenever the book is occasionally mentioned, the whip- 
 ping is recalled, revived, and perpetuated, in the memory. 
 
 I once received a correction at school, when learning pros- 
 ody, for falsely pronouncing the word seinisojritus ; and though 
 this was between fifty and sixty years ago, I have never since 
 heard prosody mentioned, but I have recollected that word, 
 and had the schoolmaster and his rod clearly before my eyes. 
 
VARIES IN DIFFERENT INDIVIDUALS. 433 
 
 I even recollect the very leaf of the book whereon the word 
 was printed. Every time I look into a book of poetry, I must 
 of course think of prosody, and prosody suggests semisopitus, 
 and brings before me, on the instant, the scene of my disgrace. 
 
 This one example is sufficient for my theory, and proves 
 also the advantage of breeding ideas, since the more links to 
 a chain the farther it reaches. 
 
 The faculty of memory varies in individuals almost as much 
 as their features. One man may recollect names, dates, pages, 
 numbers, admirably, who does^not well remember incidents or 
 anecdotes ; and a linguist will retain fifty thousand words, not 
 one tenth part of which a wit can bury any depth in his rec- 
 ollection. 
 
 This admission may tend to excite doubts and arguments 
 against the general application of my theory : but I aim not 
 at making proselytes ; indeed, I have only said thus much, to 
 anticipate observations, which may naturally be made respect- 
 ing the extent to which my memory has carried the retention 
 of bygone circumstancces, and to allay the skepticism which 
 might perhaps otherwise follow. 
 
 POLITICAL CONDUCT OF THE AUTHOR. 
 
 Letter from the Author to Mr. Burne, relating to the Political Conduct of the Former at 
 the Period of the Union — Extracts from Letters written to the Author by Lord West- 
 moreland — General Reflections on the Political Condition of Ireland at the Present Time 
 — Hint toward the Revival of a curious old Statute — Clerical Justices — The King in Ire- 
 land — The Corporation of Dublin — The " Glorious Memory" — Catholics and Protestants 
 — Mischievous Virulence of Party Feeling. 
 
 The introduction of the following letter and extracts (though 
 somewhat digressive from my original intention in compiling 
 this work) is important to me, notwithstanding they relate to 
 times so long passed by ; inasmuch as certain recent calumnies 
 assiduously propagated against me demanded at my hands a 
 justification of my conduct toward government at the period 
 of the union. With this view, the letter in question was writ- 
 ten to my friend Mr. Burne, whom I requested to communicate 
 
 19 
 
434 POLITICAL CONDUCT OF THE AUTHOK. 
 
 its contents to my connections in Dublin, or indeed to any 
 
 person who might have been prejudiced against me by those 
 
 aspersions. Having, however, reason to fear that only a very 
 
 partial circulation of my letter took place, I have adopted this 
 
 opportunity of giving it full publicity by mixing it up with 
 
 these sketches : — 
 
 " Paris, Rue de Richelieu, May 2, 1825. 
 
 " My Dear Friend : I am well aware that the reports you 
 mention, as to my ' having broken trust with the government 
 in the years 1799 and 1800,' had been at one period most 
 freely circulated : but I could scarcely suppose the same would 
 be again and lately revived, to do me injury on a very impor- 
 tant concern. This has not been altogether without its opera- 
 tion, and I feel it a duty to myself unequivocally to refute 
 such imputation. The fact is proved in few words : I could 
 not break my trust with the government, for I never accepted 
 any trust from them. I never entered into any stipulation or 
 political engagement with any government ; and every public 
 act which I did — every instance of support which I gave — 
 resulted from my own free agency and unbiased judgment. 
 
 " My first return to parliament, in the year 1790, for the city 
 of Tuam, was altogether at my own expense. I had once before 
 stood a contested election for Ballynakill, formerly my father's 
 borough. I was under no tie nor obligation to the government : 
 I had not then, nor have I ever had, any patron ; I never, in 
 fact, solicited patronage : I never submitted to the dictation 
 of any man in my life : my connection with government, there- 
 fore, was my own choice, and the consequent support I gave 
 to Lord Westmoreland's administration, of my own free will. 
 I liked Lord Buckinghamshire (Major Hobart) individually, 
 and lived much in his society : I respected Lord Westmore- 
 land highly, and he has always been very obliging to me du- 
 ring a period of seven-and-thirty years, whenever he had an 
 opportunity. During his administration I accepted office ; and 
 on his recall, he recommended Lord Camden to return me to 
 parliament. Mr. Pelham did so for the city of Clogher, but 
 made no sort of terms with me, directly or indirectly. In the 
 autumn of 1798, Mr. Cooke wrote to me that a union would 
 
OPPOSITION TO THE ACT OF UNION. 435 
 
 probably be submitted to parliament ; and to this communica- 
 tion I promptly replied that I must decline all further support 
 to any government which should propose so destructive a meas- 
 ure, at the same time tendering my seat. He replied that ' I 
 should think better of it.' 
 
 " Lord Cornwallis came over to carry this great measure ; 
 and I opposed him, Lord Castlereagh, and tl\e union, in every 
 stage of the business, and by every means in my power, both 
 in and out of parliament. Lord Cornwallis was defeated : he 
 tried again — Lord Castlereagh had purchased or packed a 
 small majority in the interval — and the bill was carried. In 
 January, 1800, I received a letter from Lord Westmoreland, 
 stating that, as Clogher had been a government-seat, he doubted 
 if I could in honor retain it. I had already made up my mind 
 to resign it when required. I mentioned the subject to Mr. 
 Forster, the speaker, who thought I was not bound to resign. 
 However, I acceded to the suggestion of Lord Westmoreland, 
 and accepted an escheatorship. But no office in his majesty's 
 gift — no power, no deprivation — would have induced me to 
 support the union. 
 
 " I stood, at my own expense, a very smartly-contested elec- 
 tion for Maryborough, Queen's county, in which I was sup- 
 ported by Sir Robert Staples, Mr. Crosby, of Stradbaily hall, 
 Dean Walsh, Colonel Pigot, Mr. Warburton (member for the 
 county), the Honorable Robert Moore (against his brother the 
 marquis of Drogheda), &c, and by the tenantry of the present 
 Lord Maryborough. I was outvoted by a majority of three — 
 the scale being turned against me by Lord Castlereagh, who 
 sent down Lord Norbury, the crown-solicitor, and several such- 
 like gentry, for the purpose. With that election my political 
 career concluded : but I am happy and proud to state that, at 
 its termination, I retained the confidence and esteem of every- 
 body whose friendship I considered it desirable to retain. 
 Lord Westmoreland bears the most unexceptionable testimony 
 to my straight-forward conduct : I have been honored by his 
 friendship, without intermission, down to the present day ; and 
 the following extracts from his lordship's letters to me, wherein 
 he states his desire to bear witness to my strict conduct in my 
 
436 POLITICAL CONDUCT OF THE AUTHOR. 
 
 transactions with government, form the best refutal of all the 
 calumnies against me. 
 
 " Since the period of my retirement from public life, two of 
 my then most intimate friends (namely, the present Chief-Jus- 
 tice Bush and the present Attorney-General Plunkett) have 
 succeeded beyond their most sanguine expectations, yet cer- 
 tainly not beyoi*d their just merits. No government could 
 pass such men by, at the bar, if they chose to claim offices. 
 They took the same, and nearly as strong an anti-union part, 
 as I did ; but, after the union, my public pursuits were nearly 
 at an end. Ireland lost all charms for me : the parliament 
 (the source of all my pride, ambition, and gratification, as a 
 public man) had been bought and sold ; I felt myself as if no- 
 body — became languid, careless, and indifferent to everything. 
 I was no longer, in fact, in my proper sphere : my health rap- 
 idly declined ; and I neither sought for nor would have ac- 
 cepted any other government-office in Ireland. 
 
 " Most of these facts, my dear Burne, you have been long 
 acquainted with : and this is solely a recapitulation of some 
 circumstances which I have no other means of making gener- 
 ally known. You will use it as you think may best serve me ; 
 and it only remains for me to repeat, what you already know, 
 that I am most sincerely yours ever, 
 
 "Jonah Barrington." 
 "John Burne, Esq., K. C, ) 
 "Merrion square." § 
 
 Extracts of Letters from the Earl of Westmoreland to Sir Jonah 
 Harrington, enclosed to Mr. Burne. 
 
 "London, March 28, 1795. 
 
 " My Dear Sir : * * *■ . * I shall always be obliged 
 to you whenever you will have the goodness to let me know 
 what is going on, on your side of the water, wherein I am con- 
 vinced you will always bear a very considerable part. I must 
 at the same time assure you that no man's name is more in 
 public repute than your own. 
 
 " Lord Camden left town this morning, and I have not failed 
 to assure him of your talents and spirit, which were so useful 
 to my government on many occasions ; and which, as I am 
 
CORRESPONDENCE WITH LORD WESTMORELAND. 437 
 
 satisfied he also will find useful, so is he equally disposed, I 
 believe, to give them that countenance they deserve. 
 
 " The state of Ireland since I left you is most wonderful, 
 but the reign of faction seems drawing to a close. 
 
 " I beg to be remembered to all friends, and am, dear sir, 
 
 yours very faithfully, " Westmoreland." 
 
 "To Jonah Bareington, Esq., one of His Majesty's ) 
 Counsel-at-Law, <fcc., &c, Merrion square, Dublin." ) 
 
 Much correspondence took place between his lordship and 
 me after that period, in which he was always equally kind. 
 Indeed, in that kindness he never varied : and after knowing 
 me seven-and-thirty years (the most important of all revolu- 
 tions having during that interval taken place in Ireland), and 
 after I had directly and diametrically opposed, in parliament 
 and out of it, his lordship's opinion and acts upon that great 
 question — the following extract of another letter from the 
 same nobleman (dated 1817) proves that he has never changed 
 his opinion of my honorable conduct toward the king's govern- 
 ment (and permits me to state his approbation of that conduct), 
 every part of which he must have well known ; since he had 
 been, with very little intermission, a member of the British 
 cabinet during the entire period. 
 
 (Abstract.) 
 
 "Paris, August 19, 1817. 
 " Dear Sir : * * * * I have enclosed you a letter of 
 introduction to Sir 0. Stuart, and will certainly speak to him 
 as you wish, and shall have great pleasure if it should prove 
 of any convenience to you or your family : and I assure you I 
 have always much satisfaction in giving my testimony to the 
 honorable manner in which you have always conducted your- 
 self in the political relations wherein you have stood with me. 
 I am your very faithful servant, " Westmoreland." 
 
 I also added the following, by way of postscript, to my ex- 
 planatory letter to Mr. Burne : — 
 
 " I think, my dear Burne, that after these testimonials, he 
 must be a daring enemy who will reassert the calumnies 
 
438 POLITICAL CONDUCT OF THE ATTTHOE. 
 
 against me. I apprehend that few public men can show more 
 decided proofs of honor and consistency, or more fair and dis- 
 interested conduct than I displayed when I found it necessary 
 to oppose the government. I must also observe, on a principle 
 of gratitude, that throughout the whole course of my public 
 life, I have uniformly experienced from the government and 
 ministers of England (let me here particularize Lord Stowell), 
 at all times and on all occasions (whether supporting or oppo- 
 sing them), the greatest kindness, justice, and considerate at- 
 tention ; together with a much greater interest, in any concerns 
 of mine submitted to them, than I could possibly have con- 
 ceived — much less have expected. 
 
 "But his majesty's public functionaries in Ireland were 
 men of a different bearing. After the surveillance of a national 
 parliament was extinguished, the country was, as it were, given 
 over to them, bound hand and foot, and they at once assumed 
 new powers, which before they durst not have aimed at. I 
 possess knowledge respecting some of them, of the communi- 
 cation of which they are not aware ; and I am not inclined to 
 permit certain individuals to go to their graves without hear- 
 ing my observations. When the proper time arrives, I shall 
 not be silent. Again, dear Burne, yours, 
 
 "J. Barrington." 
 
 On reading over the foregoing postscript of the letter to my 
 poor friend Burne (who has lately paid his debt on demand to 
 nature) some observations occur to me respecting Ireland her- 
 self, her parties, and species of government, not uncongenial to 
 the subject of my letter. The justice of these observations, 
 each day's experience tends to prove ; and I firmly believe, 
 every member of the British government at this moment 
 (except one) views the matter precisely as I do. They find it 
 difficult, however, to disentangle themselves from the opinions 
 which have been so frequently expressed by them heretofore, 
 and which, had they been equally informed then as now, I 
 apprehend would never have been entertained. The people 
 of England, and also of some -continental kingdoms, are fully 
 aware of the distracted state of Ireland, but are at a loss to 
 account for it. It is, however, now in proof, that twenty-seven 
 
CRUM-A-BOO AND B UTTER- A-HOO. 439 
 
 years of union have been twenty-seven years of beggary and 
 of disturbance ; and this result, I may fairly say, I always 
 foresaw. The only question now asked is, " What is to be 
 done V and the only comment on this question that it is in 
 my power to make is, " a council of peace is better than a 
 council of war." Much of the unfortunate state of that country 
 may be attributed to the kindred agency of two causes — 
 namely, fanaticism in Ireland, and ignorance (I mean, want of 
 true information) in Great Britain. The Irish are deluded by 
 contesting factions, and by the predominance of a couple of 
 watchwords ;* while the great body of the English people 
 know as little of Ireland (except of its disturbances) as they 
 do of Kamtschatka : and the king's ministers, being, unluckily, 
 somewhat of different opinions, go on debating and considering 
 what is best to be done, and meanwhile doing nothing : if they 
 do not take care, in a little time there will be nothing left 
 them to do. 
 
 I firmly believe England now means well and honorably to 
 the Irish nation on all points, but think she is totally mistaken as 
 to measures. Neither honorable intentions, nor the establish- 
 ment of Sunday schools, nor teaching the four rules of arithme- 
 tic, nor Bible societies, can preserve people from starving : 
 education is a very sorry substitute for food ; and I know the 
 Irish well enough to say, they never will be taught anything 
 upon an empty stomach. Work creates industry, and industry 
 produces the means of averting hunger : and when they have 
 work enough and food enough, they may be turned to anything. 
 
 * An ancient law still appears among the statutes of Ireland, to prohibit 
 ..he natives of that country from using the terms Crum-a-boo, and Butter-a- 
 ioo, as being the watchwords of two most troublesome hostile factions, 
 which kept, at the period of the prohibition, the whole nation in a state of 
 uproar. In my mind, a revival of that salutary enactment would not be 
 ^aniss just now. A similar case as regards the existing state of things may 
 j?e easily made out; and, as we lawyers say, like case like rule. As the 
 statute is still upon our books, there is a precedent at hand, and it will only 
 be necessary to amend it by changing the two terms Crum-a-boo and Butter- 
 a-hoo, into Ascendancy -a-boo and Emancipation-a-hoo ! The penalty for rais- 
 ing these cries might be the treadmill, adjudged ad libitum by Chief-Justice 
 Lord Norbury; and there can be little doubt that so wholesome a measure 
 would speedily tranquillize the country, and prevent the necessity of a good 
 deal of hansrina;. 
 
MO POLITICAL CONDUCT OF THE AUTHOR. 
 
 I speak now, of course, of the lowest orders : the class immedi- 
 ately above those is very unmanageable, because supported by 
 its starving inferiors, who now depend upon it alone for sub- 
 sistence. The nature and materials of the present Irish con- 
 stitution, indeed, appear to me totally unadapted to the neces- 
 sities of that country. 
 
 It is but too obvious that the natural attachment which ought 
 to subsist between Great Britain and Ireland is not increasing, 
 though on the due cultivation of that attachment so entirely 
 depend the strength, the jpeace, and the prosperity of the 
 United Empire ; yet I fearlessly repeat that the English mem- 
 bers of the imperial parliament mean well by Ireland, and only 
 require to ascertain her true circumstances to act for her tran- 
 quillization. Politically they may be sure that the imperium 
 in imperio, as at present operating in that country, is not cal- 
 culated to reform it. The protecting body of the country gen- 
 tlemen have evacuated Ireland, and in their stead we now find 
 official clerks, griping agents, haughty functionaries, proud 
 clergy, and agitating demagogues. The resident aristocracy 
 of Ireland, if not quite extinguished, is hourly diminishing : 
 and it is a political truism, that the co-existence of an oligarchy 
 without a cabinet — of a resident executive and an absent legis- 
 lature — of tenants without landlords, and magistracy without 
 legal knowledge* — must be, from its nature, as a form of con- 
 stitution, at once incongruous, inefficient, and dangerous. No- 
 body can appreciate the native loyalty of the Irish people 
 better than his present majesty, whose reception in Ireland 
 was enthusiastic : they adored him when he left it ; and 
 amidst millions of reputed rebels, he wanted no protection; 
 every man would have been his life-guard ! I speak not, how- 
 ever, of corporations or guilds — of gourmands, or city feasters: 
 these have spoken for themselves, and loudly too. His majes- 
 
 * I allude here more particularly to the clerical justices of Ireland. I 
 believe I only coincide with some of the first lawyers of this day, in main- 
 taining that clergymen should confine themselves to spiritual duties, in 
 doing justice to which, ample occupation would be afforded them. How 
 is it possible that men honestly fulfilling the functions of Christian minis- 
 ters should be able to understand our five hundred and seventy penal 
 statutes? 
 
VIRULENCE OF PARTY FEELING. 441 
 
 ty's wise and paternal orders were ridiculed and disobeyed by 
 them the very moment his back was turned ! With such folks 
 the defunct King William seems more popular than the living 
 King George.* 
 
 Good government, and the sufferance of active local factions, 
 are, in my view of things, utterly incompatible. Faction and 
 fanaticism (no matter on which side ranged) ought to be put 
 down to the ground — gently, if possible; but if a strong hand 
 be necessary, it should not be withheld. The spectator often 
 sees the game better than the player, and in Ireland it has 
 now proceeded too far to be blinked at. The British cabinet 
 may be somewhat divided ; but they will soon see the impera- 
 tive necessity of firmness and unanimity. It is scandalous that 
 the whole empire should thus be kept in a state of agitation by 
 the pretended theological animosities of two contending sects 
 — a great portion of whose respective partisans are in no way 
 influenced by religion — the true object of their controversy 
 being " who shall get the uppermost /" 
 
 f I lately met rather a noted corporator of Dublin in Paris. Of course, I 
 did not spare my interrogations as to the existing state of things: and in 
 the course of conversation I asked why, after the king's visit to Dublin, and 
 his conciliatory admonitions, the corporation still appeared to prefer the 
 Boyne Water and King William! "Lord bless you, Sir Jonah," replied the 
 corporator, "as for the Wather we don't care a farthing about that; but if 
 we once gave up ould King William, we'd give up all our enjoyments! only 
 for the 'glorious memory' we would not have a toast now to get drunk 
 with — eh! Sir Jonah ?" To humor the man, I did not hesitate to join in the 
 hearty laugh which he set up in satisfaction at his own waggery. 
 
 19* 
 
442 SCENES AT HAVRE DE GRACE. 
 
 SCENES AT HAVRE DE GRACE. 
 
 Peace of 1814 — The Bourbons and Emigres generally — Motives of the Author in visiting the 
 Continent — His Departure from England with his Family — Arrival at Havre de Grace — 
 The Coteau (VIngouville — Doctor Sorerie and his Graduated Scale — The Pavilion Poulet 
 — Prica of Commodities at Havre — Rate of Exchange — English Assumption Ahroad — The 
 Author's Rural Retirement disturbed by Napoleon's Return from Elba — Circumstances 
 attending the Announcement of this Fact at Havre — Previous Demonstrations of the 
 Inhabitants of the Town and more particularly of the Military quartered there — The Uni- 
 form of the Old Guard — Two Russians Mutilated by the Mob — Retirement of Louis le 
 Desire from Paris — Curious Variety of Feeling manifested among the People at Havre — 
 Policy ol the Priests — Good Humor of all Parties — Recruiting for the Emperor and the 
 King — Consternation of the English at Havre — Meeting at the House of the Consul, Mr. 
 Stnart — A Vinous Harangue — Prompt Embarkation of the British — Accommodations of 
 a Storehouse — The Huissiers and the Spring Showers — Signs of the Times. 
 
 On the abdication of the Emperor Napoleon in the year 1814, 
 ray curiosity was greatly excited to view the alteration which 
 different revolutions, a military government, and a long pro- 
 tracted warfare, must necessarily have made in the manners, 
 habits, and appearance of the French people. My ardent desire 
 to see the emperor himself had been defeated by his abdication, 
 and no hope remained to me of ever enjoying that pleasure. 
 
 The royal family of France I had the honor of meeting often 
 in society during the long visit with which they favored the 
 British nation ; the last time was at Earl Moria's, one of their 
 most zealous friends : my curiosity on that score was therefore 
 quite satisfied. I had also known many, and had formed a 
 very decisive opinion as to most of their countrymen, who had, 
 like themselves, emigrated to England ; nor has the experi- 
 ence acquired during my residence in France at all tended to 
 alter the nature of that opinion. Some of these men have, I 
 fear, the worst memories of any people existing ! Indeed, it 
 should seem that since their return home, they must have 
 drunk most plentifully of Lethe. 
 
 I was extremely desirous also to see the persons who had 
 rendered themselves so conspicuous during the long and mighty 
 struggle wherein the destinies of Europe were all at stake — 
 the great heroes of both the field and cabinet ; and, therefore, 
 upon the restoration of King Louis, I determined to visit Paris, 
 the rather as my family were infected with the same curiosity 
 as myself. 
 
THE COTEAU D'iNGOUVILLE. 443 
 
 Accordingly we set out on our journey, taking Havre de 
 Grace in our route to the metropolis. I was then in a very 
 declining state of health, and consequently unnerved and in- 
 capable of much energy either mental or corporeal. On arri- 
 ving at Havre, I was so captivated by the fine air and beautiful 
 situation of the Coteau d'Ingouville (rising immediately over 
 the town), that we determined to tarry there a few months, 
 and visit Paris in the spring, when my health and strength 
 should be renovated ; and never did any person recover both 
 so rapidly as I did during the short period of my sojourn on 
 that spot. 
 
 Doctor Sorerie, the first physician at Havre, told me that he 
 divided the hill of Ingouville into three medical compartments : 
 " the summit," said he, " never requires the aid of a physician 
 — the middle portion only twice a year — the base always" 
 His fanciful estimate, he assured me, was a perfectly true one ; 
 and, on the strength of that assurance, I rented the beautiful 
 cottage on the summit of the hill, called the Pavilion Poulei, 
 now occupied, I believe, by the American consul. All around 
 was new to me ; of course I was the more observing ; and the 
 result of my observations was, that I considered Havre, even 
 in 1815, as being at least a hundred years behind England in 
 everything. Tea was only sold there as a species of medicine, 
 at the apothecaries' shops ; and articles of cotton manufacture 
 were in general more than double the price of silk fabrics. 
 The market was very good and very moderate ; the hotels 
 most execrable. But the most provoking of all things which 
 I found at Havre, was the rate of exchange : the utmost I could 
 get for a one-pound bank of England note was sixteen francs ; 
 or for an accepted banker's bill, sixteen francs and a half to 
 the pound (about fourteen shillings for my twenty). This 
 kind of thing, in profound peace, surprised me, and the more 
 particularly, as the English guinea was at a premium, and the 
 smooth English shilling at a high premium. 
 
 A visit paid to the continent after so very long an exclu- 
 sion, really made one feel as if about to explore a kind of terra 
 incognita, and gave everything a novel and perhaps over-im- 
 portant character to the traveller. In a country altogether 
 
444 SCENES AT HAVRE DE GRACE. 
 
 strange, ordinary occurrences often assume the dignity of ad- 
 ventures ; and incidents which at home would scarcely have 
 been noticed, become invested on the sudden with an air of 
 interest. Our fellow-countrymen are too apt to undervalue 
 everything which differs from their own established ways 
 of either acting or thinking. For this overbearing spirit they 
 have been and are plentifully and justly quizzed by the na- 
 tives of other countries. Yet they exhibit few signs of amend- 
 ment. An Englishman seems to think it matter of course that 
 he must be lord of the ascendant wherever he travels, and is 
 sometimes reminded of his mistake in a manner anything but 
 gentle. The impatience he constantly manifests of any foreign 
 trait, whether of habit or character, is really quite amusing. 
 If Sterne's Maria had figured away at Manchester, or his 
 Monk at Liverpool, both the one and the other would have 
 been deemed fit objects either for a madhouse or house of cor- 
 rection : probably the girl would have been committed by his 
 worship the mayor to bedlam, and the old man to the tread- 
 mill. In fact, Yorick's refined sentiment in France would be 
 gross nonsense at Birmingham ; and La Fleur's letter to the 
 corporal's wife be considered as decided evidence of crim. con. 
 by an alderman of Cripplegate. 
 
 As for myself, I have of late felt a sort of medium sensation. 
 As men become stricken in years, a species of venerable insi- 
 pidity insinuates itself among their feelings. A great propor- 
 tion of mine had turned sour by long keeping, and I set out 
 on my travels without one quarter of the good nature which I 
 had possessed thirty years before. My palate was admirably 
 disposed at the time to feast upon novelties, of which I had 
 made up my mind to take a full meal, and thought I should 
 be all the better prepared by a few months of salubrious air 
 and rural tranquillity. 
 
 The interval, however, which I had thus devoted to quiet, 
 and thorough reinstatement of health upon the breezy and 
 delightful Coteau dTngouville, and which I expected would 
 flow on smoothly for some months (without the shadow of an 
 adventure, or, indeed, anything calculated to interfere with 
 my perfect composure), turned out to be one filled with the 
 
napoleon's RETURN FROM ELBA. 445 
 
 most extraordinary occurrences which have ever marked the 
 history of Europe. 
 
 The sudden return of Napoleon from Elba, and the speedy 
 flight of the French king and royal family from the Tuilleries, 
 without a single effort being made to defend them, appeared 
 to me, at the time, of all possible incidents, the most extraor- 
 dinary and the least expected. The important events which 
 followed in rapid and perplexing succession afforded me scope 
 for extensive observation, whereof I did not fail to take ad- 
 vantage. My opportunities were indeed great and peculiar; 
 but few, comparatively, of my fellow-countrymen had as yet 
 ventured into France : those who did avail themselves of the 
 conclusion of peace in 1814, fled the country in dismay, on the 
 return of " the child and champion of Jacobinism ;" while I, 
 by staying there throughout his brief second reign, was en- 
 abled to ascertain facts known to very few in England, and 
 hitherto not published by any. 
 
 At Havre it appeared clearly to me that Napoleon, during 
 his absence, was anything but forgotten or disesteemed. The 
 empress, when there, had become surprisingly popular among 
 all classes of people ; and the misfortunes of her husband had 
 only served to render his memory more dear to his brother- 
 soldiers, by whom he was evidently still regarded as their 
 general and their prince. In truth, not only by the soldiers, 
 but generally by the civic ranks, Louis, rather than Napoleon, 
 was looked on as a usurper. , 
 
 There were two regiments of the line at Havre, the officers 
 of which made no great secret of their sentiments, while the 
 men appeared to me inclined for anything but obedience to 
 the Bourbon dynasty. The spirit of which I could not help 
 seeing in full activity here, it was rational to conclude, opera- 
 ted in other parts of the kingdom, and the justice of this infer- 
 ence was suddenly manifested by the course of events. 
 
 We were well acquainted with the colonel and superior 
 officers of one of the regiments then in garrison. The colonel, 
 a very fine soldier-like man, about forty-five, with the reputa- 
 tion of being a brave officer and an individual at once candid, 
 liberal, and decided, was singularly frank in giving his op in- 
 
4:4,6 SCENES AT HAVRE DE GRACE. 
 
 ions on all public subjects. He made no attempt to conceal 
 his indestructible attachment to Napoleon ; and I should think 
 (for his tendencies must necessarily have been reported to the 
 government) that he was continued in command only from a 
 consciousness on their part, that if they removed him, they 
 must at the same moment have disarmed and disbanded the 
 regiment, a measure which the Bourbon family was then by 
 no means strong enough to hazard. 
 
 On one occasion, the colonel, in speaking to me while com- 
 pany was sitting round us, observed, with a sardonic smile, 
 that his master, Louis, was not quite so firmly seated as his 
 emigres seemed to think. " The puissant allies," continued he, 
 sneering as he spoke, " may change a king, but" (and his voice 
 rose the while), " they can not change a people." 
 
 Circumstances, in fact, daily conspired to prove to me that 
 the army was still Napoleon's. The surgeon of that same 
 regiment was an Italian, accounted very clever in his profes- 
 sion, good-natured, intelligent, and obliging ; but so careless 
 of his dress, that he was generally called by us the " dirty 
 doctor." This person was less anxious even than his com- 
 rades to conceal his sentiments of men and things, both polit- 
 ically and generally : never failing, whether in public or 
 private, to declare his opinion, and his attachment to " the 
 exile." 
 
 A great ball and supper was given by the prefects and other 
 authorities of Havre, in honor of Louis le Desire's restoration. 
 The affair was very splendid : we were invited, and went 
 accordingly. I there perceived our dirty doctor, dressed most 
 gorgeously in military uniform, but not of that of his regiment. 
 I asked him to what corps it appertained : he put his hand to 
 his mouth, and whispered me, " C'est l'uniforme de mon coeur !" 
 (" 'Tis the uniform of my heart !") It was the dress-uniform 
 of Napoleon's old guard, in which the doctor had served. The 
 incident spoke a volume ; and as to the sentiments of its 
 wearer, was decisive. 
 
 About six weeks after that incident, two small parties of sol- 
 diers of the garrison passed repeatedly through the market- 
 place on a market-day, with drawn swords, flourishing them 
 
TWO RUSSIANS MUTILATED BY THE MOB. 44:7 
 
 in the air, and crying incessantly, " Vive Napoleon ! vive Vem- 
 pereur /" but they did not manifest the slightest disposition 
 toward riot or disturbance, and nobody appeared either to be 
 surprised at or to mind them much. I was speaking to a 
 French officer at the time, and he, like the rest of the specta- 
 tors, showed no wish to interfere with these men, or to prohibit 
 the continuance of their exclamations, nor did he remark in 
 any way upon the circumstance. I hence naturally enough 
 inferred the state of public feeling, and the very slight hold 
 which Louis le Desire then had upon the crown of his ancestors. 
 
 A much more curious occurrence took place, when a small 
 detachment of Russian cavalry, which had remained in France 
 from the termination of the campaign, were sent down to 
 Havre, there to sell their horses and embark for their native 
 country. The visit appeared to me to be a most unwelcome 
 one to the inhabitants of the place, and still more so, as might 
 be expected to the military stationed there. The Russians 
 were very fine-looking fellows, of large size, but with a want 
 of flexibility in their limbs and motions ; and were thence con- 
 trasted rather unfavorably with the alert French soldiery, who, 
 in manoeuvring and rapid firing, must have a great advantage 
 over the northern stiffness. 
 
 I had the pleasure of becoming acquainted at Havre with 
 Mr. Wright, a very respectable gentleman, and I believe, by 
 affinity, a nephew of Mr. Windham. We had been in a cafe 
 together, and were returning to our hotel about ten o'clock at 
 night, when we saw a small assemblage of people collected at 
 the churchdoor in the main street. There were some women 
 among them, and they seemed earnestly employed on some 
 business which the total darkness of the night prevented us 
 from seeing. There was, in fact, no light around save one 
 glimmering lamp in the porch of the churchdoor, where the 
 people appeared fairly knotted together. There was scarcely 
 any noise made above a sort of buzz, or as it were, rather a 
 suppression of voices. Mr. Wright remained stationary while I 
 went across the street to reconnoitre ; and after a good deal 
 of peeping over shoulders and under arms, I could perceive 
 that the mob was in the act of deliberately cutting off the ears 
 
448 SCENES AT HAVRE £>E GRACE. 
 
 of two powerful-looking Russian soldiers, who were held so 
 fast by many men, that they had not the least capability of 
 resistance. Tl*ey seemed to bear the application of the blunt 
 knives of their assailants with considerable fortitude, and the 
 women were preparing to complete the trimming with scissors ; 
 but one glance was quite enough for me ! I got away as quick 
 as thought ; and as the circumstance of Mr. Wright wearing 
 mustaches might possibly cost him his ears, I advised him to 
 get into a house as soon as possible : he took to his heels on 
 the suggestion, and I was not slow in following. The next day 
 I saw one of the Russians in the street with a guard to pro- 
 tect him — his head tied up with bloody cloths, and cutting alto- 
 gether a most frightful figure. All the French seemed highly 
 diverted, and shouted out their congratulations to the Russian, 
 who, however, took no manner of notice of the compliment. 
 
 I believe the authorities did all they could in this affair to 
 apprehend the trimmers, but unsuccessfully. Some individuals 
 were, it is true, taken upon suspicion ; but as soon as the 
 Russians were embarked, they were liberated. In fact, the 
 local dignitaries knew that they were not as yet sufficiently 
 strong to enforce punishment for carving a Russian. 
 
 I often received great entertainment from sounding many of 
 the most respectable Frenchmen whose acquaintance I made 
 at Havre, with regard to their political tendencies ; and the 
 result as well of my queries as of my observations led me to 
 perceive, that there were not wanting numerous persons by 
 whom the return of Bonaparte, sooner or later, was looked 
 forward to as an occurrence by means either violently improba- 
 ble, or undesirable. 
 
 Nevertheless, no very deep impression was made on my 
 mind as to these matters, until one morning, Lady Barrington, 
 returning from Havre, brought me a small printed paper, an- 
 nouncing the emperor's actual return from Elba, and that he 
 was on his route for Paris. I believed the evidence of my 
 eyesight, on reading the paper ; but I certainly did not believe 
 its contents. I went off immediately to my landlord, Mr. 
 Poulet, a great royalist, and his countenance explained cir- 
 cumstances sufficiently before I asked a single question. The 
 
RUMORS OF NAPOLEON'S RETURN. 449 
 
 sub-prefect soon left the town: but the intelligence was scarcely 
 credited, and not at all to its full extent. I went into every 
 cafe and public place, and through every street. In all direc- 
 tions I saw groups of people, anxious and busily engaged in 
 converse ; I was much amused by observing the various effects 
 of the intelligence on persons of different opinions, and by con- 
 trasting the countenances of those who thronged the thorough- 
 fares. 
 
 I did not myself give credence to the latter part of this in- 
 telligence — namely, that Bonaparte was on his way to Paris. 
 I could not suppose that the king had found it impracticable 
 to command the services of a single regiment ; and it must be 
 confessed that his majesty, a man of excellent sense, had, 
 under all the circumstances, made a very bad use of his time 
 in acquiring popularity, either civil or military. Notwith- 
 standing the addition of Desire to his Christian name (where- 
 with it had been graced by messieurs les emigres), it is self- 
 evident that outward demonstrations alone had been conceded 
 to him of respect and attachment. I never heard that nick- 
 name appropriated to him at Havre, by-the-by, except by the 
 prefects and revenue officers. 
 
 The dismal faces of the Bourbonites, the grinning ones of 
 the Bonapartists, and the puzzled countenances of the neutrals 
 were mingled together in the oddest combinations : throughout 
 the town everybody seemed to be talking at once, and the 
 scene was undoubtedly of the strangest character, in all its 
 varieties. Joy, grief, fear, courage, self-interest, love of peace, 
 and love of battle — each had its votaries. Merchants, priests, 
 douaniers, military officers, were strolling about, each appa- 
 rently influenced by some distinctive grade of feeling : one sen- 
 sation alone seemed common to all — that of astonishment. 
 
 The singularity of the scene every moment increased. On 
 the day immediately ensuing, fugitives from Paris, full of news 
 of all descriptions, came in as quick as horses and cabriolets 
 could bring them. Bulletin after bulletin arrived — messenger 
 after messenger ! But all the despatches in any shape official 
 combined in making light of the matter. The intelligence 
 communicated by private individuals, however, was very con- 
 
450 SCENES AT HAVRE DE GRACE. 
 
 tradictory. One, for instance, stated positively that the army 
 had declared against Napoleon ; another that it had declared 
 for him ; a third that it had not declared at all ! One said 
 that Napoleon was surrounded : — " Yes," returned a bystander, 
 "but it is by his friends!" Toward evening every group 
 seemed to be quite busy making up their minds as to the news 
 of the day, and the part they might think it advisable to take ; 
 as for the English they were frightened out of their wits, and 
 the Avomen had no doubt that they should all be committed to 
 jail before next morning. 
 
 I observed, however, that amidst all this bustle, and mass 
 of conflicting opinions, scarce a single priest visible : these 
 cunning gentry had (to use a significant expression) deter- 
 mined, if possible, " not to play their cards till they were sure 
 what was trumps." On the preceding Sunday they had, 
 throughout the entire day, been chanting benedictions on 
 Louis le Desire and on St. Louis his great grandfather ; but on 
 the sabbath which followed, if they chanted at all (as they 
 were bound to do), they would necessarily run a great risk of 
 chanting for the last time in their lives, if they left out Napo- 
 leon ; and, inasmuch as they were unable to string together 
 Louis le Desire, Napoleon, and St. Louis, in one benedicite, a 
 most distressing dilemma became inevitable among the clergy. 
 Common sense, however, soon pointed out their safest course : 
 a plea of compulsion operating on the meek resignation of their 
 holy trade, might serve as an excellent apology, on the part 
 of an ecclesiastical family, in the presumption of Louis' 
 becoming victor ; but in the emperor they had to deal with a 
 different sort of person, as they well knew — with a man who 
 would not be put off with unmeaning excuses, and in due hom- 
 age to whom it would be dangerous to fail. Under all circum- 
 stances, therefore, they took up a line of conduct which I can 
 not but think was very wise and discreet, proceeding as it did 
 upon the principle " of two evils choose the least." Their 
 loyalty was decided by their fears, which sufficed to stimulate 
 the whole body of priests and cures at Havre, old and young, 
 to uplift their voices with becoming enthusiasm in benediction 
 of " Napoleon le Grand !" indeed they seemed to be of opinion 
 
BOURBONITES, BONAPARTISTS, AND NEUTRALS. 451 
 
 that, having taken their ground it would be as well to appear 
 in earnest ; and never did they work harder than in chanting 
 a Te Deum laudamus, in honor of their old master's return : to 
 be serious, I believe they durst not have done otherwise ; for 
 I heard some of the military say very decidedly, that if the 
 priests played any tricks npon the occasion, they would hash 
 them ! 
 
 The observation which surprised me most of all was, that 
 though the two parties had declared themselves, and the fleur- 
 de-lis and eagle were displayed in direct opposition to each 
 other throughout the town ; though the sub-prefect had run 
 away, while the tri-colored flag was floating in one place, and 
 the white one in another, no practical animosity or ill blood 
 whatsoever broke out among the respective partisans. The 
 bustle somewhat resembled that of an English election, but had 
 none of the violence or dissipation, and only half the noise, 
 which circulate on those august occasions. On the contrary, 
 civility was maintained by every one : the soldiers were very 
 properly kept in their barracks ; and an Englishman could 
 scarcely conceive so polite, peaceable, temperate, and cheerful 
 a revolution — more particularly as neither party could tell on 
 which side the treason would ultimately rest. 
 
 At length, orders came from Napoleon, at Lyons, that the 
 imperial army should be recruited ; while, at the very moment 
 this order arrived, some of the merchants and officers of the 
 national guards were actually beating up for the royal arma- 
 ment. The drums of the respective partisans rattled away 
 through every street, and the recruiters often passed each other 
 with the utmost courtesy : not one man was seen in a state of 
 intoxication on either side. Meanwhile there was no lack of 
 recruits to range themselves under either standard : and it 
 was most curious to observe, that these men very frequently 
 changed their opinions and their party before sunset ! I think 
 most recruits joined the king's party ; his sergeants had plenty 
 of money, while Napoleon's had none : and this was a most 
 tempting distinction — far better than any abstract considera- 
 tion of political benefit. Many of the recruits managed mat- 
 ters even better than the priests, for they took the king's 
 
452 SCENES AT HAVRE DE GRACE. 
 
 money in the morning, and the emperor's cockade in the after- 
 noon : so that they conld not be accused on either side of 
 unqualified partiality. The votaries of le Desire and le Grand 
 were, indeed, so jumbled and shuffled together (like a pack of 
 cards when on the point of being dealt), that nobody could 
 possibly decipher which had the best chance of succeeding. 
 
 The English alone cast a dark and gloomy shade over the 
 gay scene that surrounded them ; their lengthened visages, 
 sunken eyes, and hanging features proclaiming their terror and 
 despondency. Every one fancied he should be incarcerated 
 for life, if he could not escape before Napoleon arrived at 
 Paris, which seemed extremely problematical : and I really 
 think I never saw a set of men in better humor for suicide 
 than my fellow-countrymen, who stalked like ghosts along the 
 pier and seaside. 
 
 The British consul, Mr. Stuart (a litterateur and a gentleman, 
 but whose wine generally regulated his nerves, while his nerves 
 governed his understanding), as good-natured a person as could 
 possibly be, about a couple of bottles after dinner (for so he 
 counted his time — a mode of computation in which he cer- 
 tainly was as regular as clockwork), called a general meeting 
 of all the British subjects in Havre, at his apartments ; and 
 after each had taken a bumper of Madeira to George the 
 Third, he opened the business in as long and flowery a ha- 
 rangue, in English and Latin, as the grape of Midi and its 
 derivative distillations could possibly dictate. 
 
 " My friends and countrymen," said Mr. Stuart, " I have 
 good consular reasons for telling you all, that if Bonaparte gets 
 into Paris, he will order every mother's babe of you — men, 
 women, and children, et cetera — into jail for ten or twelve 
 years at the least computation! — and I therefore advise you 
 all, magnus, major, maximus, to take yourselves off without any 
 delay, great or small, and thereby save your bacon while you 
 have the power of doing so. Don't wait to take care of your 
 property : nulla bona is better than nulla libertas. As for me, 
 I am bound ex-qfficio to devote myself for my country ! I will 
 risk my life" (and here he looked sentimental) " to protect your 
 property ; I will remain behind !" 
 
FLIGHT OF THE ENGLISH FROM HAVRE. 453 
 
 The conclusion of the consul's speech was a signal for the 
 simultaneous uplifting of many voices. " I'll be off certainly !" 
 exclaimed one terrified gentleman. " Every man for himself, 
 God for us all, and the devifaake the 7iind?nost /" shouted an- 
 other. " Do you mean to affront me, sir ?" demanded the wor- 
 thy, self-devoted consul, starting from his seat. A regular 
 uproar now ensued : but the thing was soon explained, and 
 tranquillity restored. 
 
 Two ships were now forthwith hired, at an enormous price, 
 to carry the English out of the reach of Bonaparte. The wind 
 blew a gale, but no hurricane could be so terrific as Napoleon. 
 Their property was a serious consideration to my fellow-coun- 
 trymen ; however, there was no choice : they therefore packed 
 up all their small valuables, and relinquished the residue to 
 the protection of Providence and the consul. 
 
 In a short time, all was ready ; and, as Mr. Stuart had ad- 
 vised, men, women, children, and lapdogs, all rushed to the 
 quay ; while, in emulation of the orator at the consul's, " the 
 devil take the hindmost," if not universally expressed, was 
 universally the principle of action. Two children, in this most 
 undignified sort of confusion, fell into the sea, but were picked 
 up. The struggling, screeching, scrambling, &c, were at length 
 completed ; and, in a shorter time than might be supposed, the 
 English population were duly shipped, and away they went 
 under a hard gale. Dr. Johnson calls a ship a prison, with 
 the chance of being drowned in it ; and, as if to prove the cor- 
 rectness of the doctor's definition, before night was over one 
 vessel was ashore, and the whole of its company just on the 
 point of increasing the population of the British channel. 
 
 Havre de Grace being thus emptied of the king of England's 
 subjects, who were " saying their bacon" at sea, in a violent 
 hurricane, the consul began to take care of their property : but 
 there being a thing called loycr, or rent, in France as well as 
 in England, the huissiers (bailiffs) of the town saved the consul 
 a great deal of trouble respecting his guardianship in divers 
 instances. Nevertheless, so far as he could, he most faithfully 
 performed his promise to the fugitives, for the reception of 
 whose effects he rented a large storehouse, and so far all was 
 
454 SCENES AT HAVRE DE GKACE. 
 
 wisely, courteously, and carefully managed : but not exactly 
 recollecting that the parties did not possess the property as 
 tenants in common, the worthy consul omitted to have distinct 
 inventories taken of each person's respective chattels, though, 
 to avoid any risk of favoritism, he had all jumbled together ; 
 and such a heterogeneous medley was perhaps never seen else- 
 where. Clothes, household furniture, kitchen utensils, books, 
 linen, empty bottles, musical instruments, &c, strewed the 
 floor of the storehouse in " most admired disorder." All being 
 safely stowed, locks, bolts, and bars, were elaborately con- 
 structed, to exclude such as might feel a disposition to picking 
 and stealing : but, alas ! the best intentions and the most cau- 
 tious provisions are sometimes frustrated by accident or over- 
 sight. In the present instance, in his extraordinary anxiety 
 to secure the door, Mr. Stuart was perfectly heedless of the 
 roof ; and in consequence, the intrusion of the rain, which often 
 descended in torrents, effectually saved most of the proprietors 
 the trouble of identifying their goods after the result of the 
 glorious battle of Waterloo. Disputes also were endless as to 
 the right aud title of various claimants to various articles ; and 
 in the result, the liuissiers and the landlord of the storehouse 
 were once more intruders upon the protected property. 
 
 To return — Havre being completely evacuated by my coun- 
 trymen, it now became necessary to strike out some line of 
 proceeding for myself and family. Sir William Johnson, who 
 was in the town, had participated in the general alarm, and 
 had set off with his household for the Netherlands, advising 
 me to do the same. I was afterward informed that thev all 
 foundered in a dike near Antwerp : I am ignorant whether or 
 not there is any foundation for this story — I sincerely hope 
 there is not. In the meantime, the transformation of things 
 at Havre became complete, and perfect order quickly succeed- 
 ed the temporary agitation. The tri-colored flag was again 
 hoisted at the port ; and all the painters of the town were 
 busily employed in changing the royal signs into imperial ones. 
 One auberge, Louis le Desire, was changed into a blue boar ; 
 the Duchesse oV Angouleme became the Virgin Mary ; royal was 
 new gilt into imperial once more at the lottery-offices ; jhurs- 
 
LEAVE HAVRE FOE PARTS. 455 
 
 de-lis were metamorphosed, in a single day, into beautiful spread 
 eagles ; and the Due de Be?ry, who had hung creaking so peace- 
 ably on his post before the door of a hotel, became, in a few 
 hours, St. Peter himself, with the keys of heaven dangling 
 from his little finger ! 
 
 COMMENCEMENT OF THE HUNDRED DAYS. 
 
 A Family Council — Journey from Havre to Paris — Attention of the French Officers to the 
 Author and his Party — Peaceable Condition of the Intervening Country — Thoughts on 
 Revolutions in General — Ireland in 1798 — Arrival in the French Capital — Admirable 
 State of the Police — Henry Thevenot — Misgivings of the Author — His Interview with 
 Count Bertrand — Polite Conduct of the Count — The Emperor's Chapel — Napoleon at 
 Mass — His Deportment — Treasonable Garments — Colonel Gowen — Military Inspection 
 after Mass — Alteration in the Manner of the Emperor — Enthusiasm of the Soldiers. 
 
 To see Napoleon or not to see Napoleon — that was the 
 question ! and well weighed it was in my domestic republic. 
 After a day's reasoning, pro and con (curiosity being pitted 
 against fear, and women in the question), the matter was still 
 undecided when our friends the colonel and the dirty doctor 
 came to visit us, and set the point at rest, by stating that the 
 regiments at Havre had declared unanimously for the emperor, 
 and that the colonel had determined to march next day direct 
 upon Paris ; that therefore, if we were disposed to go thither, 
 and would set off at the same time, the doctor should take care 
 of our safety, and see that Ave had good cheer on our journey 
 to the metropolis. 
 
 This proposal was unanimously adopted : we were at peace 
 with France, and might possibly remain so ; and the curiosity 
 of three ladies, with my own to back it, proved to be totally 
 irresistible. A new sub-prefect also having arrived in the 
 town, came to see us ; expressed his regret that the English 
 should have deemed it necessary to quit the place ; and gave 
 us a letter of introduction to his wife, who lived in the Rue St. 
 Honore, at Paris. 
 
 We immediately packed up ; I procured three stout horses 
 to my carriage, and away we went after the advanced guard 
 of the (as well as I recollect) 41st regiment. The soldiers 
 
456 COMMENCEMENT OF THE HUNDRED DAYS. 
 
 seemed to me as if they thought they never could get to Na- 
 poleon soon enough ; they marched with surprising rapidity ; 
 and after a most agreeable journey, we arrived at the good 
 city of Paris without any let or hinderance, having experi- 
 enced fro n the dirty doctor every possible attention. We 
 were sure of the best cheer at any place we halted at ; and the 
 more so as the advanced guard only preceded us one stage, 
 and the main body of the troops was a stage behind us. We 
 were immediately escorted by four mounted soldiers, who were 
 in attendance upon our medical friend. I have learned since 
 that this kind and firm-hearted man escaped the campaign and 
 returned to Italy. The colonel was shot dangerously at Qua- 
 tre Bras, but I understood his wounds did not prove mortal. 
 
 Our route from Havre to Paris exhibited one general scene 
 of peace and tranquillity, not dashed by the slighest symptom 
 of revolution. The national guards everywhere appeared to 
 have got new clothing, and were most assiduously learning in 
 the villages to hold up their heads, and take long strides and 
 lock-steps, but (for anything that appeared to the contrary) 
 solely for their own amusement. The same evidences of undis- 
 turbed serenity and good-humor were displayed in all direc- 
 tions, and the practice of military exercises by the national 
 guards was the only warlike indication of any kind through- 
 out the whole extent of country we traversed. 
 
 On our arrival at the capital, we found no exception therein 
 to the tranquillity of the provinces. People at a distance are 
 apt to conceive that a revolution must necessarily be a most 
 terrific affair — a period of anarchy and confusion, when every- 
 thing is in a state of animosity, bustle, and insecurity. This 
 is in some instances a great mistake (although, generally speak- 
 ing, true enough) — for, on the other hand, many modern rev- 
 olutions have been effected, governments upset, dynasties anni- 
 hilated, and kings trucked, with as little confusion as the chan- 
 ging a gig-horse. I have, indeed, seen more work made about 
 the change of a hat than of a diadem ; more anxiety expressed 
 touching a cane than a sceptre : and never did any revolution 
 more completely prove the truth of these remarks than that in 
 France during March, 1815, when Napoleon quietly drove up 
 
AT PARIS THE POLICE HENRY THEY E NOT. 457 
 
 post, in a chaise-and-four, to the palace of the Bourbons, and 
 Louis XVIII. as quietly drove e^post, in a chaise-and-four, to 
 avoid his visiter. Both parties, too, were driven hack again, 
 within three months, pretty nearly in the same kind of vehi- 
 cle ! Let my reader compare, for his edification, this bloodless 
 revolution with the attempt at revolution in the obscure corner 
 of the globe whence I sprang, anno Domini 179S — during the 
 brief summer of which year there was, in secluded Ireland 
 (the kingdom of Ireland, as it was then called), more robbery, 
 shooting, hanging, burning, piking, flogging, and picketing, 
 than takes place in half a dozen of the best-got-up continental 
 revolutions — always excepting that great convulsion which 
 agitated our neighbors toward the close of the eighteenth cen- 
 tury. 
 
 During the interval of the " Hundred Days," and some time 
 subsequently, I kept a regular diary, wherein I accurately 
 took down every important circumstance, except some few^ 
 which I then considered much safer in my mind than under 
 my hand ; and these are now, for the most part and for the 
 first time, submitted to the public. After a few days' stay in 
 Paris, I began to feel rather awkward. I found very few of 
 my fellow-countrymen had remained there, and that there 
 seemed, to exist but little partiality toward the English. But 
 the police was perfect, and no outrage, robbery, or breach of 
 the peace, was heard of ; nor could I find that there were any 
 political prisoners in the jails, or in fact many prisoners of any 
 kind. No dissolutes were suffered to parade the streets or con- 
 taminate the theatres ; and all appeared polite, tranquil, and 
 correct. I kept totally clear, meanwhile, in both word and 
 deed, of political subjects. 
 
 I hired as footman a person then very well known in Paris, 
 Henry Thevenot. I have since heard (but can not vouch for 
 the fact) that he is the Thevenot who attended Mr. Wakefield 
 and Miss Turner. I have likewise recently been apprised 
 that, at the time I engaged him, he was actually on the espion- 
 nagc establishment. Be that as it may, I certainly always 
 considered Thevenot to be a mysterious kind of person, and 
 on one particular occasion, whiefh will be hereafter mentioned, 
 
 20 
 
458 COMMENCEMENT OF THE HUNDRED DAYS. 
 
 discharged him suddenly, without enlarging on my reasons . 
 he was, however, an excellent servant. I had brought a pass- 
 port from the new sous-prefct at Havre, which, having lodged 
 at the police-office, I felt quite at my ease : but reflecting after- 
 ward upon the probable consequences in case of war or change 
 of circumstances, I determined at once to take a bold step and 
 go to the Palais de Bourbon Elysfe (where Napoleon resided), 
 to see Count Bertrand, whom I proposed to inform truly of my 
 situation, and ask for a sauf conduit or passport to return. 
 
 On the second day whereon I made an attempt to see him, 
 with difficulty I succeeded in obtaining an audience. I told 
 the count who I was, and all the facts, together with my doubts 
 as to the propriety of remaining. He very politely said I 
 should have what I required, but that a gentleman in my sta- 
 tion was perfectly safe, and there could be no difficulty as to 
 my remaining as long as I chose ; and concluded by bowing 
 me out, after a very short interview. As I was going down 
 the steps, an officer recalled me, and asked if I had any family 
 in Paris. I replied in the affirmative — three ladies. Mutual 
 bows ensued, and I returned very well satisfied with the result 
 of my visit to the Palais de Bourbon Ely see. At that time the # 
 emperor was employed day and night on business in the pal- 
 ace. At daybreak he occasionally rode out with some of his 
 staff, to inspect the works at Montmartre ; and on hearing this, 
 my ancient curiosity to see so distinguished a person came 
 afresh upon me. 
 
 The ensuing day, a man with a large letter-box buckled be- 
 fore him, entered our apartment without the least ceremony, 
 and delivered a letter with " Bertrand" signed at the corner. 
 I was rather startled at the moment, as the occurrence cer- 
 tainly looked singular : nevertheless, the man's appearance 
 and manner were not such as to confirm unpleasant surmises, 
 and I proceeded to unseal the envelope, which enclosed a bil- 
 let to the commissaire de police, desiring him to grant me a sauf 
 conduit through any part of .France, if I chose to travel in that 
 country, and an especial passport to Calais, should I choose 
 to return to England. The signature was not that of Ber- 
 trand. The packet also contained a polite note from an aid- 
 
THE EMPERORS CHAPEL NAPOLEON AT MASS. 459 
 
 de-camp of the count, mentioning that he was directed to enclose 
 me an admission to the emperor's chapel, &c, and to say that, 
 on production of my savf conduit, our party would find a free 
 admission to the theatres and other spectacles of Paris. So 
 much politeness (so very different from what would have_been 
 the case in England) both gratified and surprised me. I wrote 
 a letter of thanks ; but at our privy council we agreed that, 
 under existing circumstances, it would be better to say noth- 
 ing of the latter favor. I afterward discovered the friendly 
 quarter through which it originated. 
 
 We hired a caleche by the month, and set out with a deter 
 mination to lose no time in seeing whatever was interesting ; 
 and in fact everything was at that moment interesting to 
 strangers. We spoke French sufficiently well for ordinary 
 purposes ; and determined, in short, to make ourselves as com- 
 fortable as possible. 
 
 I have already observed that I kept a diary during the 
 " Hundred Days," but afterward thought it most prudent not 
 to commit anything very important to writing. From that 
 diary, so far as I pursued it (and from scraps which nobody 
 could understand but myself), I have since selected such de- 
 tails and observations as have not hitherto been published or 
 made, and for the collection of which my peculiar situation at 
 Paris, and consequent opportunities, abundantly qualified me. 
 Consistently with the foregoing part of these fragments, I shall 
 not even attempt anything like strict order or chronological 
 arrangement, but leave, generally speaking, the various sub- 
 jects brought before the reader's attention to illustrate and 
 explain each other. On this principle, I shall now, without 
 further prelude, describe the first scene which impressed itself 
 on my imagination. 
 
 The first Sunday after the receipt of our permission, we re- 
 paired to the emperor's chapel, to see that wonderful man, and 
 to hear mass chanted in the first style of church music. Na- 
 poleon had already entered : the chapel was full ; but we got 
 seats very low down, near the gallery in which the emperor 
 sat ; and as he frequently leaned over the front, I had oppor- 
 tunities of partially seeing him. In the presence of so cele- 
 
4:60 COMMENCEMENT OF TliE IIDNDKED DAYS. 
 
 brated a man as Bonaparte, all other things sank into compara- 
 tive insignificance, and the attention of the spectator was wholly 
 absorbed by the one great object. Thus, in the present case, 
 there was nothing in either the chapel or congregation that 
 had power to divide my regards with the great Napoleon. As 
 I have said, he often leaned over the front of the gallery 
 wherein he sat ; and I had thence an opportunity of observing 
 that he seemed quite restless, took snuff repeatedly, stroked 
 down his head with an abstracted air — and, in fact, was obvi- 
 ously possessed by feelings of deep anxiety. I should not sup- 
 pose he had at the moment the least consciousness as to where 
 he was, and that, of all things, the priests and the mass were 
 the last likely to occupy his thoughts. 
 
 While thus employed in reconnoitring the emperor as in- 
 tensely as stolen glances afforded me means of doing, a buzz 
 in the chapel caused me to turn round to ascertain its cause. 
 Though low, it increased every moment, and was palpably 
 directed toward us — so much so, that no doubt remained of 
 our being, somehow or other, the sole objects of it. I then 
 whispered my companions that our presence was evidently 
 offensive in that place, and that we had better retire ; when a 
 Frenchwoman, who sat near Lady Barrington, said, " Madame, 
 you perceive that you are the object of this uncourteous no- 
 tice." — "Yes," replied Lady Barrington, "it is become quite 
 obvious." The French lady smiled, and continued, " You had 
 better lay aside your shawls /" Lady Barrington and my daugh- 
 ter accordingly taking the hint, threw off their shawls, which 
 they suffered to drop at their feet, and at once the buzzing 
 subsided, and no further explanation took place until the con- 
 clusion of the service. 
 
 At that moment several French ladies came up with great 
 courtesy, to apologize for the apparent rudeness of the congre- 
 gation, which they begged Lady Barrington to excuse on ac- 
 count of its cause, and to examine her shawl, on doing which, 
 she would perceive that it was very unlucky (hien mal apro- 
 pos) to wear such a one in the presence of the emperor. She 
 did so, and found that both hers and my daughter's (though 
 very fine ones) were unfortunately speckled all over with 
 
TREASONABLE SHAWLS COLONEL GOWEN. 461 
 
 Jicurs-dc-lis ! They had been sold her the preceding day by 
 a knavish shopkeeper at the Passage Feydeau, who, seeing 
 she was a foreigner, had put off these articles, thinking it a 
 good opportunity to decrease his stock in that kind of gear, 
 the sale whereof would probably be pronounced high-treason 
 before the month was over. 
 
 The confusion of the ladies at this eclaircissement may be 
 well conceived, but it was speedily alleviated by the elegant 
 consolations and extreme politeness of the Frenchwomen. 
 Among those who addressed us was a gentleman in the uni- 
 form of a colonel of the national guards ; he spoke to me in 
 perfect English, and begged to introduce his family to mine. 
 I told him who I was, and he asked us to a dinner and ball 
 next day at his house in the Rue cle Clichy. We accepted his 
 invitation, and were magnificently entertained. This was 
 Colonel Gowen, the proprietor of the first stamp-paper manu- 
 factory in France — a most excellent, hospitable, and friendly 
 person, but ill-requited, I fear, afterward by some of our coun- 
 trymen. I subsequently experienced many proofs of his hos- 
 pitality and attention. 
 
 An English lady was also remarkably attentive and polite 
 on this occasion, and gave her card to Lady Barrington — No. 
 10, Rue Pigale. She was the lady of Dr. Marshall, an Eng- 
 lish physician : so that the affair of the shawl, so far from 
 being mal apropos, turned out quite a lucky adventure. 
 
 In viewing Napoleon that day, it was not the splendid su- 
 periority of his rank — it was neither his diadem, sceptre, nor 
 power, which communicated that involuntary sensation of awe 
 which it was impossible not to feel : it was the gigantic degree 
 of talent whereby a man of obscure origin had been raised so 
 far above his fellows. The spectator could not but deeply 
 reflect on the mystic nature of those decrees of Providence 
 which had placed Napoleon Bonaparte on one of the highest 
 of earthly thrones, and at the very pinnacle of glory; had 
 hurled him from that eminence and driven him into exile ; and 
 now seemed again to have warranted his second elevation — 
 replacing him upon that throne even more wondrously than 
 when he first ascended it. 
 
462 COMMENCEMENT OF THE HUNDRED DAYS. 
 
 Such were my impressions on my first sight of the Emperor 
 Napoleon. So much has he been seen and scrutinized through- 
 out the world — so familiar must his countenance have been to 
 millions — so many descriptions have been given of his person 
 and of his features by those who knew him well — that any 
 portrait by me must appear to be at least superfluous. Every 
 person, however, has a right to form his own independent judg- 
 ment on subjects of physiognomy, and it is singular enough 
 that I have never yet met any one with whom I entirely coin- 
 cided as to the peculiar expression of Napoleon's features ; and 
 I have some right to speak, for I saw him at periods and under 
 circumstances that wrought on and agitated every muscle of 
 his fine countenance, and have fancied (perhaps ridiculously) 
 that I could trace indications of character therein unnoticed 
 by his biographers. 
 
 On this day my observations must necessarily have been 
 very superficial : yet I thought I could perceive, in the move- 
 ment of a single feature, some strong-excited feeling, some sen- 
 sation detached and wandering away from the ordinary modes 
 of thinking, though I could not even guess from what passion 
 or through what impulse that sensation originated. After I 
 had seen him often, I collated the emotions palpable in his 
 countenance with the vicissitudes of his past life, fancying that 
 I might thence acquire some data to go upon in estimating the 
 tone of his thoughts : but at this first sight, so diversified were 
 the appearances as he leaned over the gallery, that even Lav- 
 ater could not have deciphered his sensations. He was uneasy, 
 making almost convulsive motions, and I perceived occasion- 
 ally a quiver on his lip. On the whole, my anxiety was raised 
 a hundred-fold to be placed in some situation where I might 
 translate at leisure the workings of his expressive countenance. 
 That opportunity was after a short interval fully given me. 
 
 On the same day I had indeed a second occasion of observ- 
 ing the emperor, and in a much more interesting occupation — 
 more to his taste, and which obviously changed the entire cast 
 of his looks — quite divesting them of that deep, penetrating, 
 gloomy character, which had saddened his countenance during 
 the time he was at chapel. After mass he first came out upon 
 
NAPOLEON ON PARADE. 463 
 
 the balcony in front of the Tuilleries : his personal staff, mar- 
 shals, generals, and a few ladies surrounded him ; while the 
 civil officers of the court stood in small groups aside, as if 
 wishing to have nothing to do with the military spectacle. 
 Napoleon was now about to inspect eight or ten thousand of 
 the army, in the Place Carousal. The transition from an array 
 of priests to a parade of warriors — from the hymns of the 
 saints to the shouting of the soldiery — from the heavy, al- 
 though solemn, music of the organ to the inspiriting notes of 
 the drum — added greatly to the effect of the scene, which 
 strongly impressed my mind, alive and open to all these novel 
 incidents. Age had not then, nor has it yet, effaced the sus- 
 ceptibility of my nature. I own, the latter scene was on that 
 day to my mind vastly preferable to the first : the countenance 
 of Napoleon was metamorphosed ; it became illuminated ; he 
 descended from the balcony, and mounted a gray barb. He 
 was now obviously in his element ; the troops, as' I have said, 
 amounted to about ten thousand : I did not conceive the court 
 of the Tuilleries could hold so many. 
 
 Napoleon was now fully exposed to our view. His face 
 acknowledged the effect of climate : his forehead, though high 
 and thinly strewn with hair, did not convey to me any par- 
 ticular trait ; his eyebrows, when at rest, were not expressive, 
 neither did his eyes on that occasion speak much : but the 
 lower part of his face fixed my attention at once. It was 
 about his mouth and chin that his character seemed to be con- 
 centrated. I thought, on the whole, that I could perceive a 
 mixture of steadiness and caprice, of passion and generosity, 
 of control and impetuousness. 
 
 But my attention was soon turned aside to the inspection 
 itself. There was not a soldier who did not appear nearly 
 frantic with exultation, and whose very heart, I believe, did 
 not beat in unison with the hurrahs wherewith they received 
 their favorite leader. 
 
 It was the first time I had ever heard a crowd express its 
 boisterous pleasure in a tone of sensibility unknown in our 
 country. The troops were in earnest, and so was the general. 
 The old guard (including such as had returned from Elba and 
 
464 THE ENGLISH IN PARIS. 
 
 such as had rejoined their colors) formed a body of men supe- 
 rior to any I had ever before witnessed. Descriptions of 
 Napoleon amidst his soldiers are, however, so common, that I 
 will not occupy either the reader's time or my own by enlar- 
 ging further on the subject. 
 
 THE ENGLISH IN PARIS. 
 
 Doctor and Mrs. Marshall — Col. Macirone, Aid-de-Camp to Joachim Murat, while King of 
 Naples — General Arthur O'Connor — Lord and Lady Kinnaird — His Lordship under the 
 Surveillance of the Police- -Suspected of Espionage, and Arrested, but set at Liberty 
 immediately after — Messrs. Hobliouse and Bruce — Dr. Marshall's Correct Informatian as 
 to Passing Events — Real Character cf tb» Coterie at his House — Madame la Parente du 
 Ministre Fouche — Misconception of the Maimer's Swiss Porter — Henry TheTenot. 
 
 Shortly after this period, I became particularly intimate 
 with Dr. Marshall, a circumstance which, in the paucity of 
 English who had remained in Paris, was productive to me of 
 great satisfaction. He was a man of prepossessing appearance 
 and address ; had travelled much : and acted, he informed me, 
 as physician to the army in Egypt, &c, and had gone on some 
 confidential mission to Murat while king of Naples. His wife 
 was a pretty woman, rather en bon point, about thirty, and with 
 the complete appearance and address of a gentlewoman. The 
 doctor kept a very handsome establishment, and entertained 
 small companies splendidly. 
 
 The society I generally met there consisted, in the first 
 place, of Colonel Macirone, who passed for an Italian, and had 
 been aid-de-camp to Murat, but was, I believe, in fact the 
 son of a respectable manufacturer in London, or on Blackheath. 
 He has published an account of the romantic circumstances 
 attendant on the death of the ill-fated Murat. Another mem- 
 ber of the society was Count Julien, formerly, I believe, some 
 secretary or civil officer of Murat, a huge, boisterous, overbear- 
 ing fat man, consequential without being dignified, dressy 
 without being neat, and with a showy politeness that wanted 
 even the elements of civility. Count Julien was the only 
 
DR. MARSHALL A RELATIVE OF FOEXJCH. 465 
 
 person I met at Dr. Marshall's whose character or occupation 
 I had any suspicions about. 
 
 Fouche was then the emperor's minister of police, and they 
 all appeared to be more or less acquainted with him : but I 
 had not at first the slightest idea that they were every one of 
 them either spies or employes of the police minister, and but 
 hollow friends, if not absolute traitors, to Napoleon. 
 
 I met several other gentlemen less remarkable at Dr. Mar- 
 shall's, but only one lady appeared besides the mistress of the 
 house. This was a plain, rational, sedate, woman under forty. 
 She was introduced to us by Mrs. Marshall as the wife of a 
 relative of Fouche, and at that time (with her husband) on a 
 visit to his excellency at his hotel, Rue Cerutti. 
 
 One day before dinner, at Dr. Marshall's house, I observed 
 this lady, on our arrival, hurrying into Mrs. Marshall's boudoir, 
 and when dinner was announced she re-entered decked out 
 with a set of remarkable coral ornaments, which I had seen 
 Mrs. Marshall wear several times. This circumstance struck 
 me at the moment, but was neither recollected nor accounted 
 for till we paid an unlucky visit to that " relative of Fouche," 
 when the whole enigma became developed, and my suspicions 
 fairly aroused. 
 
 Dr. Marshall meanwhile continued to gain much on my 
 esteem. He saw that I was greedy of information as to the 
 affairs of Italy ; and he, as well as Col. Macirone, saturated 
 me in consequence with anecdotes of the court of Naples, and 
 of Murat himself, highly entertaining, and I believe tolerably 
 true — for I do really think that Macirone was sincerely at- 
 tached to that king, and attended his person with friendship 
 and sincerity. On the contrary, Count Julien seemed incapa- 
 ble of possessing much feeling, and perfectly indifferent as to 
 anybody's fate but his own. This, however, I only give as my 
 individual opinion : I soon lost sight of the man altogether. 
 
 In the midst of this agreeable and respectable society, I 
 passed my time during the greater part of the " Hundred 
 Days :" and Dr. Marshall informing me, I believe, truly, that 
 he was on terms of confidence (though not immediately) with 
 Fouche, and well knowing that he might with perfect security 
 
 20* 
 
466 THE ENGLISH IN PARIS. 
 
 communicate anything to me (seeing that I should be silent for 
 my own sake), scarcely a day passed but we had much con- 
 versation in his garden ; and he certainly did give me very 
 correct information as to the state of affairs and the condition 
 of the emperor, together with much that was not equally cor- 
 rect, regarding himself. This I occasionally and partially 
 perceived ; but his address was imposing and particularly 
 agreeable. 
 
 We had also cultivated our acquaintance (originated through 
 the adventure of the shawls) with Colonel Go wen, of the na- 
 tional guards, whose hotel in Rue Clichy bore a most extraor- 
 dinary castellated appearance, and was surrounded by very 
 large gardens, where we were nobly entertained : the leads of 
 the hotel overlooked Tivoli, and, indeed, every place about 
 Paris. The colonel lived extremely well ; spoke English 
 perfectly ; and might, in fact, be mistaken for a hospitable 
 officer of a British yeomanry corps. 
 
 Another gentleman I also happened accidentally to meet, 
 who was an English subject, and whom I had known many 
 years previously. We became intimate, and I derived both 
 utility and information from that intimacy. This gentleman 
 knew, and had long known, much more of French affairs and 
 individuals than any of my other acquaintances ; and being at 
 the same time replete with good nature and good sense (with 
 his politics I had nothing to do), I could not fail to be a gainer 
 by our intercourse, which has continued undiminished to this day. 
 
 Another and more remarkable personage, Mr. Arthur O'Con- 
 nor, was then a French general unemployed. I had known 
 him thirty years before : he had married the daughter and 
 sole heiress of the unfortunate and learned marquis de Con- 
 dorcet ; had been plundered of his Irish property by his brother 
 Roger; and was prohibited from returning to his native coun- 
 try by act of parliament. General Arthur O'Connor was a 
 remarkably strong-minded, clever man, with a fine face and a 
 manly air; he had, besides, a great deal of Irish national 
 character, to some of the failings whereof he united several of 
 its best qualities. I met him frequently, and relished his 
 company highly. For old acquaintance sake I professed and 
 
LOKD AND LADY KINNAIRD. 467 
 
 felt a friendship for the man ; and, differing as we did wholly 
 upon public subjects, we talked over all without arguirg upon 
 any, which is the only agreeable method of conversation among 
 persons whose opinions do not coincide. 
 
 Lord and Lady Kinnaird were also in Paris at that period. 
 I did not pay my respects to them for a very singular, though 
 at such a time a very sufficient reason. Her ladyship was the 
 daughter of one of my most respected friends, the late duke of 
 Leinster, to every member of whose family I owe ail possible 
 attention : but Lord Kinnaird, by overacting his part, had 
 drawn on himself an absurd degree of suspicion ; and I had 
 been informed by a friend, in confidence, that every person 
 who was seen visiting him was immediately suspected likewise, 
 and put secretly under surveillance, which would not have been 
 particularly agreeable to me. In a little time this information 
 was curiously illustrated. I was informed that Lord Kinnaird 
 had been arrested by order of Fouche : but Fouche soon found 
 he had fallen into a ridiculous error ; and I believe his lordship 
 was immediately liberated with an ample apology. I heard 
 also incidentally among the employes (for I took care at all 
 times to display no inordinate curiosity even though I might 
 be literally bursting with that feeling), that his lordship was 
 accustomed to express himself so hyperbolically in favor of 
 Napoleon, that the police (to whom everything was made 
 known by unsuspected domestics) could not give his lordship 
 credit for sincerity, and therefore took for granted that he was 
 playing some game or other : in fact, they fancied he was a 
 spy ! using ultra eulogiums on the emperor to cloak a secret 
 design. 
 
 Messrs. Hobhouse and Bruce were both in Paris at the same 
 period, and I have often regretted that I did not know them. 
 I afterward knew the latter well, when in La Force with Sir 
 R. Wilson and my friend Mr. J. Hutchinson, for assisting the 
 escape of Lavalette. I found in Mr. Bruce some excellent 
 qualities, and a thirst after information which I admire in 
 anybody. 
 
 These, together with the family of Mr. Talbot, were the 
 only English persons whom I met in Paris immediately after 
 
468 THE ENGLISH IN PARIS. v 
 
 my arrival and during the most momentous crisis Europe ever 
 witnessed. That point of time formed the pivot whereon the 
 future destiny of every nation in the fairest quarter of the 
 globe was vibrating : but I am here trenching on a subject in 
 which the nature of this work does not permit me to indulge. 
 
 The successive occurrences at Paris, after Napoleon's return, 
 were daily published and are known to everybody. The press 
 was free from restraint, and every public act recorded : it was 
 therefore to the private acts and characters of men I applied 
 my observation, as forming the best ground for speculative 
 opinions (which that portentous interval necessarily tended to 
 stimulate), and likewise as calculated to yield the best mate- 
 rials for future entertainment. 
 
 Dr. Marshall was, as I have already stated, on some occa- 
 sions confidentially employed by Fouche ; and placing confi- 
 dence in me — perhaps not duly estimating the extent of my 
 curiosity — he was very communicative. In fact, not a day 
 passed, particularly after Napoleon's return from Waterloo, that 
 I did not make some discovery through the doctor (as much 
 from his air of mystery as from his direct admissions), of 
 Fouche's flagitious character, and of the ductility and total 
 absence of principle exhibited by several of his employes. 
 
 The intelligence I daily acquired did not surprise, but greatly 
 disgusted me. I hate treachery in all its ramifications ; it is 
 not, generally speaking, a French characteristic ; but Fouche 
 certainly displayed a complete personification of that vice. 
 Spies and traitors generally do each other strict justice, by the 
 operation and exercise of mutual hatred, contempt, and invec- 
 tive. I never heard one such person say a kind word of an- 
 other beliind Ms hack ; and when a man is necessitated by pol- 
 icy to puff a brother villain, it is not difficult for a stander-by 
 to decipher the sneer of jealousy and mental reservation dis- 
 torting the muscles of the speaker's countenance, and involun- 
 tarily disclosing the very feeling which he was perhaps desir- 
 ous to conceal. 
 
 Thus was it with the various tools of the treacherous minis- 
 ter : and in his own countenance were engraven distinctly the 
 characteristics of cunning and insincerity. From the first 
 
MADAME LA PARENTS DE MINISTBE FOUCHE. 469 
 
 moment I saw Fouche, and more particularly when I heard 
 him falsely swear fidelity to his imperial master, I involun- 
 tarily imbibed a strong sensation of dislike. His features held 
 out no inducement to you to place confidence in their owner : 
 on the contrary, they could not but tend to beget distrust and 
 disesteem. The suspicions which they generated in me, I 
 never could overcome, and the sequel proved how just they were. 
 
 After awhile, I began slightly to suspect the species of soci- 
 ety I was associating with, and it occurred to me to request 
 that Lady Barrington would pay a visit to the lady we had 
 met at Dr. Marshall's, and whom we had understood from Mrs. 
 Marshall to be on a visit to Fouche, her relative. I proposed 
 to go also, and leave my card for her husband whom we had 
 not yet seen. We accordingly waited on them at Fouche's 
 hotel, and asked the Swiss if madame was at home. 
 
 "Madame!" said the porter; madame! quelle madame?" 
 as if he had heard us imperfectly. We had forgotten her 
 name, and could therefore only reply, " Madame la parente de 
 monsieur le minis tre." 
 
 " There is no such person here, monsieur," replied the Swiss, 
 with a half-saucy shrug. 
 
 " Oh, yes," exclaimed I : " she is on a visit to the Due 
 D'Otrante." 
 
 " Non, non, monsieur et madame" repeated the pertinacious 
 Swiss : "point du tout /" and seemed impatient to send us 
 away ; but after a moment's pause, the fellow burst into a vio- 
 lent fit of laughter. " I beg your pardon, monsieur et madame," 
 said he, " I begin to understand whom you mean. Your friend 
 undoubtedly resides in the hotel, but she is just now from home." 
 
 I handed him our cards for her and her husband. On read- 
 ing " Le Chivalier et Milady" the man looked more respectful, 
 but apparently could not control his laughter. When, how- 
 ever, he at length recovered himself, he bowed very low, begged 
 pardon again, and said he thought we had been inquiring for 
 some vraie madame. The word stimulated my curiosity, and 
 I hastily demanded its meaning ; when it turned out that mon- 
 sieur was the maitre d'hotel, and madame, his wife, looked to 
 the linen, china, &c, in quality of confidential housekeeper. 
 
470 THE ENGLISH IN PARIS. 
 
 We waited to hear no more. I took up our cards and away 
 we went ; and my suspicions as to that lady's rank were thus 
 set at rest. I did not say one word of the matter at Dr. Mar- 
 shall's, but I suppose the porter told the lady, as we never saw 
 her afterward, nor her husband at all. 
 
 I now began to perceive my way more clearly, and redoubled 
 my assiduity to decipher the events which passed around me. 
 In this I was aided by an increased intimacy with Colonel 
 Macirune, whom closer acquaintance confirmed as an agreea- 
 ble and gentlemanly man, and who in my opinion was very 
 badly selected as an espion : I believe his heart was above his 
 degrading occupation. 
 
 I perceived that there was some plot going forward, the cir- 
 cumstances of which it was beyond my power to develop. 
 The manner of the persons I lived among was perpetually un- 
 dergoing some shade of variation ; the mystery thickened ; and 
 my curiosity increased with it. 
 
 In the end this curiosity was most completely gratified ; but 
 all I could determine on at the moment was, that there existed 
 an extensive organized system of deception and treachery, at 
 the bottom of which was undoubtedly Fouche himself; wheth- 
 er, however, my employe acquaintances would ultimately betray 
 the emperor or his minister, seemed, from their evidently loose 
 political principles, quite problematical. I meanwhile dreaded 
 everybody, yet affected to fear none, and listened with an air 
 of unconcern to the stories of my valet, Henry Thevenot, 
 though at that time I gave them no credit : subsequent occur- 
 rences, however, rendered it manifest that this man procured, 
 somehow or other, sure information. 
 
 Among other matters, Thevenot said he knew well that 
 there was an intention, if opportunity occurred, of assassinating 
 Napoleon on his road to join the army in Belgium.* I did not 
 much relish being made the depository of such dangerous se- 
 crets, and ordered my servant never to mention before me 
 again " any such ridiculous stories," otherwise I should dis- 
 
 * I have often thought that the ultimate desertion of the mameluke who had 
 always been retained by Napoleon about his person had some very deep 
 reason for it; and to this moment, that circumstance appears to require 
 clearing up. 
 
ABDUCTION OF THE REGALIA. 471 
 
 charge him as an unsafe person. Yet I could not keep his 
 tongue from wagging, and I really dreaded dismissing him. 
 He said " that Fouche was a traitor to his master ; that several 
 of the cannon at Mont-martre were rendered unserviceable ; 
 and that mines had been charged with gunpowder under vari- 
 ous parts of the city preparatory to some attempt at counter 
 revolution." 
 
 INAUGURATION OF THE EMPEROR. 
 
 The Peers and Deputies summoned for the 8th of June — Abduction of the Regalia by the 
 Royalists — Author obtains a Ticket of Admission to the Gnllpry of the Chamber of Dep- 
 uties, to Witness the Ceremony — Grenadiers of the Old Guard — Enthusiasm of the Mil- 
 itary, and Comparative Quiescence of the other Ranks — Entrance of Napoleon into the 
 Chamber — Sketch of his Appearance and that of Madame Mere — Administration of the 
 Oath of Allegiance — The Duke of Otranto and Count Thibaudeau — The Imperial Speech 
 and its Ineffective Delivery. 
 
 The days rolled on, and in their train brought summer and 
 the month of June, on the 8th day of which, the peers and dep- 
 uties of the legislative body were summoned to attend collec- 
 tively at two o'clock in the chamber of deputies, to receive the 
 emperor, and take the oath of fidelity to him and to the con- 
 stitution, in the midst of all the splendor which the brilliant 
 metropolis of France could supply. The abduction of the rega- 
 lia by some friends of King Louis, when they ran away to 
 Ghent, had left Napoleon without any crown wherewith to grat- 
 ify the vanity of a people at all times devoted to every species 
 of spectacle ; he had only a button and loop of brilliants which 
 fastened up his Spanish hat, over the sides whereof an immense 
 plumage hung nodding. But this was such a scene, and such 
 an occasion, that a wreath of laurel would have become the 
 brow of Napoleon far better than all the diamonds in the uni- 
 verse ! The whole of the imperial family were to be present. 
 
 The number of persons who could be admitted as spectators 
 into the gallery was necessarily very limited : and in a great 
 metropolis where everybody is devoted to show, the difficulty 
 of procuring admission would, I conceived, be of course propor- 
 tionably great. It may be well imagined that I was indefati- 
 
472 INAUGURATION OF THE EMPEROR. 
 
 gable in seeking to obtain tickets, as this spectacle was calcu- 
 lated to throw everything besides that I had witnessed in 
 Paris completely into the background ; and what tended still 
 more to whet the edge of my curiosity, was the reflection that 
 it would, in all probability, be* the last opportunity I should 
 have of deliberately viewing the emperor, whose departure 
 from Paris to join the army was immediately contemplated. 
 
 I therefore made interest with everybody I knew ; I even 
 wrote to the authorities ; and, in short, left no means whatever 
 untried which suggested themselves to me. At length, when 
 "I began to think my chance a very poor one, on the day actu- 
 ally preceding the ceremony:, to my unspeakable gratification 
 I received a note from the chamberlain, enclosing an admis- 
 sion for one, which the difficulty I had everywhere encoun- 
 tered led me to esteem a great favor. I did not think that, at 
 my age, I could possibly be so anxious about anything : but I 
 believe there are few persons who will not admit that the ex- 
 citement was great, occasioned by the prospect of contempla- 
 ting, for a length of time and in a convenient situation, the 
 bodily presence of a man to whom posterity is likely to award 
 greater honors than can be conceded to him by the prejudices 
 of the present race. 
 
 The programme announced that all Napoleon's marshals and 
 generals, together with the veterans of his staff and the male 
 branches of his family, were to be grouped around him ; as 
 were likewise several of those statesmen whose talents had 
 helped originally to raise him to the throne, and whose treach- 
 ery afterward succeeded in hurling him a second time from it. 
 The peers and deputies, in their several ranks and costumes, 
 were each, individually and distinctly, on that day, to swear 
 new allegiance to their emperor, and a lasting obedience to 
 the constitution. 
 
 The solemnity of Napoleon's inauguration, and that of his 
 promulgating the new constitution at the Champ de Mars, made 
 by far the greatest impression on my mind of all the remarka- 
 ble public or private occurrences I had ever witnessed. The 
 intense interest, the incalculable importance, not only to France 
 but to the world, of those two great events, generated reflec- 
 
ADMISSION TO THE CHAMBER OF DEPUTIES. 473 
 
 tions within me more weighty and profound than any I had 
 hitherto entertained : while the variety of glittering dresses, 
 the novelty and the everchanging nature of the objects around 
 me, combined to cheat me almost into a belief that I had mi- 
 grated to fairy land, and in fact to prevent me from fixing my 
 regards on anything. 
 
 The first of those days was the more interesting to France 
 — the second to Europe at large. Though totally unparelleled 
 in all their bearings, and dissimilar from every other histori- 
 cal incident ancient or modern, yet these solemnities seem to 
 have been considered by most who have written upon the 
 subject as little more than ordinary transactions. Were I to 
 give my feelings full play in reciting their effect on myself, I 
 should at this calmer moment be perhaps set down as a vision- 
 ary or enthusiast. I shall, therefore, confine myself to simple 
 narrative. 
 
 The procession of the emperor from the Tuileries to the 
 chambers, though short, was to have been of the most impo- 
 sing character. But, much as I wished to see it, I found that 
 by such an attempt I might lose my place in the gallery of 
 the chamber, and, consequently, the view of the inauguration 
 scene. At eleven o'clock, therefore, I brought my family to a 
 house on the quay, for which I had. previously paid dearly ; 
 and where having placed them at a window, I repaired myself 
 to the chamber of deputies, in> company of a French colonel, 
 who had been introduced to us by Colonel Gowen, and who 
 kindly undertook to be my usher, and to point out to me the 
 most celebrated warriors and generals of the guard and army, 
 who in groups promenaded the courts and gardens of the sen- 
 ate-house, awaiting the appointed hour for parading to receive 
 the emperor. This gentleman, in fact, introduced me to several 
 officers and persons of rank ; and though at that moment war, 
 attended by all its horrors, was deemed inevitable, I was ad- 
 dressed with a courtesy and gentlemanly frankness, which, 
 under siinilar circumstances, would in any other country, I 
 fear have been wanting. They spoke without reserve of the 
 tremendous struggle about to be commenced ; but not a man 
 of them appeared to me to have a single doubt of triumphing; 
 
474: INAUGURATION OF THE EMPEROR. 
 
 and had my own country been neutral or uninterested, I cer- 
 tainly should have preferred the brilliance of Napoleon's des- 
 potism to the contracted, glimmering tyranny of his continen- 
 tal enemies. But I knew that Great Britain was implicated. 
 Napoleon and England might coalesce for a moment ; but I 
 felt that the ascendency of the former was incompatible with 
 the power of the latter, and I was chilled by the reflection, 
 which in some degree abated my relish for the striking scenes 
 before me. 
 
 Among other individuals of note presented to me by the 
 colonel, was Labedoyere, who was destined so soon to atone 
 with the forfeiture of his life for his fidelity to his first patron. 
 I had heard then nothing particular of this man, and conse- 
 quently took but little notice of him. There was not one 
 whom I remarked more than Ney, then prince of Moskwa. 
 " That," said the colonel, as he pointed him out to me, " is the 
 greatest sabreur in Europe :" and Ney's rough, manly, sun- 
 burnt countenance, well set off by his muscular, warlike figure, 
 confirmed the character. " There," continued my informant, 
 pointing to a civilian in full dress, " is one of the truest parti- 
 sans the emperor has in France — Count Thibaudeau." I had 
 previously remarked the person to whom my attention was 
 thus directed, as one not formed of common materials, and had 
 occasion soon after to observe him still more particularly. 
 
 So many of the objects of that day have been sketched in 
 various publications, that I shall not endeavor to give any- 
 thing in the shape of a list of them, but content myself with 
 the mention of those which struck me most forcibly at the mo- 
 ment. 
 
 Whoever was in Paris during the " Hundred Days," must 
 have seen the old guard of Napoleon. Such a body of soldiers 
 (all appearing of the self-same character) I believe never was 
 collected ! Their herculean vigor, more than the height of 
 their persons, was remarkable ; and their dark, deep-furrowed 
 visages (enveloped in mustaches and surmounted by the bear's 
 skin of their lofty caps, glittering with ornaments), combined, 
 together with their arms, their clothes, and more particularly 
 their steadiness, to exhibit to me the most complete model of 
 
ENTHUSIASM OF THE MILITARY. 475 
 
 genuine soldiers. Their looks, though the very emblem of 
 gravity and determination, were totally devoid of ferocity ; 
 and I could fancy the grenadiers of the old guard to be heroes 
 uniting the qualities of fidelity, of valor, and of generosity : 
 their whole appearance indeed was most attractive. 
 
 The cavalry had dismounted, and were sitting around on 
 the steps and parapets of the edifice, mostly employed in 
 sharpening their sabres with small hones ; and the whole seemed 
 to me as if actuated only by an ardent wish to proceed to ac- 
 tion. One officer asked me in English, rather more freely 
 than the rest, if I knew the British commander (Lord Wel- 
 lington). I said I did. " Well," replied he, " we shall have a 
 brush with him before the week is over!" and turned away 
 with an expression strongly indicative of contempt. I believe 
 Lord Wellington did not quite anticipate the short time that 
 would be given him by his opponents. My observations and 
 introductions were however at length interrupted by the first 
 cannon, which announced that the emperor had commenced 
 his passage from the Tuileries. All was in immediate bustle ; 
 the drums beat, the trumpets sounded, the deputies and offi- 
 cials flocked into their halls, the cuirassiers were mounted, the 
 grenadiers in line, the officers at their stations ; and in five 
 minutes the mingled and motley crowd was arranged in order 
 so regular and so silently assumed, that it was almost impossi- 
 ble to suppose they had ever been in confusion. The different 
 bands struck up ; they had received orders respecting the airs 
 that should be played as the emperor approached, which they 
 began to practise, and the whole scene, almost in a moment, 
 wore an aspect entirely new. 
 
 The firing of cannon continued : the emperor had advanced 
 along the quays, and passed over that very spot where the 
 last French monarch had, twenty years before, been immo- 
 lated by his subjects. The word enthusiasm, strong as its 
 meaning is generally held to be, really failed, on this occasion, 
 to express as much as the military seemed to feel. The citi- 
 zens who thronged around did not however, it is true, appear 
 to partake in this sentiment to anything like a corresponding 
 extent. Whether it was that they felt it not, or that they 
 
476 INAUGURATION OF THE EMPEROR. 
 
 were conscious of acting a subordinate part in the pageant 
 (which unquestionably bore too much of a military character), 
 I do not know. 
 
 I proceeded without delay to the stairs which led to my 
 logc, as noted on my admission ticket. This loge, however, it 
 turned out to be no easy matter to find. My heart began to 
 sink; I inquired of everybody; some did not understand, 
 others looked contemptuously ; nobody would pay the least 
 attention to my solicitations. Thus I seemed likely, after all, 
 to lose the benefit of my exertions. Meanwhile every new 
 discharge of cannon seemed as if announcing, not only the 
 emperor's approach, but my exclusion, from the chamber ; and 
 I was getting fast into a state of angry hopelessness, when an 
 officer of the guard, who saw that I was a foreigner, addressed 
 me in English. I explained to him my embarrassments and 
 fears, and showed him my ticket. He told me I was on the 
 wrong side, and was so good as to send a soldier with me to 
 the door of the box. I rapped, and was instantly admitted. 
 There were two rows of chairs, and accommodation for three 
 persons to stand behind. I was one of the latter ; and it was 
 impossible to be better situated for hearing and seeing every- 
 thing. My loge, exactly faced the throne ; and in the next 
 sat the emperor's mother, and all the females, Avith their at- 
 tendants. I knew nobody : I saw no English there : there 
 was one person in full dress, who was said to be un chevalier 
 Ecosse, and who having distinguished himself and announced 
 his nation by making an abominable disturbance about some- 
 thing or other, was very properly turned out. We sat in 
 silent expectation of the emperor's arrival, which was to be 
 announced by the cessation of the repeated salutes of artillery. 
 The moments were counted : the peers and deputies were 
 seated in their places, all in full dress — the former occupying 
 the front benches, and the deputies ranged behind them. 
 Servants of the chamber, in the most splendid liveries that 
 can be conceived, were seen busy at all the side doors : the 
 front door was underneath our loge ; it was therefore impossi- 
 ble for me to see the effect of the first appearance of the em- 
 peror, who at length, followed by a numerous retinue, crossed 
 
ENTRANCE OF NAPOLEON. 477 
 
 the chamber — not majestically, but with rather hurried steps: 
 having slightly raised his hat, he seated himself abruptly on 
 the throne, and wrapping himself in his purple cloak, sat 
 silent. 
 
 The scene was altogether most interesting; but there was 
 no time for contemplation. The whole assembly immediately 
 rose; and if a judgment might be formed from the outward 
 expression of their feelings, it would be inferred that Napo- 
 leon was enthroned in the heart of almost every peer and 
 deputy who that day received him. A loud, continued, and 
 unanimous burst of enthusiastic congratulation proceeded from 
 every quarter : it echoed throughout the whole chamber, and 
 had all the attributes of sincerity. One circumstance I par- 
 ticularly remarked : the old cry of " Vive l'empereur," was 
 discontinued, and, as if the spectators' hearts were too full to 
 "utter more, they limited themselves to a single word, " l'em- 
 pereur ! Vempcreur /" alone bursting from the whole assembly. 
 I found afterward that there was a meaning in this : inasmuch 
 as the ceremony was not a mere greeting — it was an inaugu- 
 ration of the emperor. It was this solemnity which in fact 
 recreated his title after his formal abdication, and the assembly 
 thus noted the distinction. 
 
 Meanwhile, Napoleon sat apparently unmoved ; he occa- 
 sionally touched his hat, but spake not. I stood immediately 
 in front of, and looking down on, the throne ; and being in 
 the back row, could use my opera-glass without observation. 
 Napoleon was at that moment, all circumstances considered, 
 the most interesting personage in existence. His dress, al- 
 though rich, was scarcely royal ; he was not, as a king should 
 be by prescription, covered with jewels ; he had no crown, 
 and wore the same dress exactly as he afterward did on his 
 visit to the Champ-de-Mars — namely, a black Spanish hat, 
 fastened up in front with a diamond loop and button ; heavy 
 plumes of ostrich feathers, which hung nodding over his fore- 
 head ; and rather a short cloak of purple velvet, embroidered 
 with golden bees. The dimensions of his person were thus 
 concealed ; but his stature, which scarcely attained the middle 
 height, seemed still lower on account of his square-built form 
 
478 INAUGURATION OF THE EMPEROK. 
 
 and his high and ungraceful shoulders : he was, in fact, by no 
 means a majestic figure. I watched his eye ; it was that of a 
 hawk, and struck me as being peculiarly brilliant. Without 
 moving his head, or a single muscle of his countenance, his 
 eye was everywhere, and really seemed omniscient : an almost 
 imperceptible transition moved it from place to place, as if by 
 magic; and it was fixed steadily upon one object before a 
 spectator could observe its withdrawal from another. 
 
 Yet even at this moment, powerful as was the spell in which 
 Napoleon's presence bound the spectator, my attention was 
 drawn aside by another object which seemed to me to afford 
 much scope for contemplation : this was the emperor's mother. 
 I stood, as I have already said, in the next loge of the gallery 
 to that occupied by the imperial family. The dutiful and af- 
 fectionate regard of Napoleon to his mother is universally 
 authenticated : and as his nature was not framed either to 
 form or perpetuate mere attachments of course, it was natural 
 to conclude that this lady's character had something about it 
 worthy of remark. I was therefore curious to trace, as far as 
 possible, the impressions made upon her by the passing scene. 
 
 Madame Mere (as she was then called) was a very fine old 
 lady, apparently about sixty, but looking strong and in good 
 health. She was not, and I believe never had been, a beauty ; 
 but was, nevertheless, well-looking, and possessed a cheerful, 
 comfortable countenance. In short, I liked her appearance : 
 it was plain and unassuming, and I set my mind to the task of 
 scrutinizing her probable sensations on that important day. 
 
 Let us for a moment consider the situation of that mother, 
 who, while in an humble sphere of life, and struggling with 
 many difficulties, had born, nursed, and reared a son, who, at 
 an early age, and solely by his own superior talents, became 
 ruler of one of the fairest portions of the civilized creation ; to 
 whom kings and princes crouched and submitted, and trans- 
 ferred their territories and their subjects, at his will and pleas- 
 ure ; to whom the whole world, except England, had cringed ; 
 whom one great emperor had flattered and fawned on, hand- 
 ing over to him a favorite daughter even while the conqueror's 
 true wife was living ; and whom the same bewildered emperor 
 
THE EMPEROK's MOTHER. 479 
 
 had afterward assisted in rousing all Europe to overthrow — 
 thus dethroning his daughter, disinheriting his grandson, and ex- 
 posing himself to the contempt and derision of the universe — 
 only that he might have the gratification of enslaving six mil- 
 lions of the Italian people ! The mother of Napoleon had 
 seen all this ; and had, no doubt, felt bitterly that reverse of 
 fortune whereby her son had been expelled and driven into 
 exile, after his long dream of grandeur and almost resistless 
 influence. What, then, must be the sensations of that mother 
 at the scene we are describing! — when she beheld the same 
 son again hailed emperor of the French, restored to power 
 and to his friends by the universal assent of a great nation and 
 the firm attachment of victorious armies ! He remounted his 
 throne before her eyes once more, and without the shedding 
 of one drop of blood was again called to exercise those func- 
 tions of royalty from which he had been a few months before 
 excluded. 
 
 It was under these impressions that I eagerly watched the 
 countenance of that delighted lady : but her features did not 
 appear to me sufficiently marked to give full scope to the indi- 
 cation to her feeling. I could judge, in fact, nothing from any 
 other feature except the eye, to which, when I could catch it, 
 I looked for information. At first I could see only her profile ; 
 but as she frequently turned round, her emotions were from 
 time to time obvious. A tear occasionally moistened her cheek, 
 but it evidently proceeded from a happy rather than a painful 
 feeling — it was the tear of parental ecstasy. I could perceive 
 no lofty sensations of gratified ambition, no towering pride, no 
 vain and empty arrogance, as she viewed underneath her the 
 peers and representatives of her son's dominions. In fact, I 
 could perceive nothing in the deportment of Madame Mere 
 that was not calculated to excite respect for her as a woman, 
 and admiration of her as the person who had brought into the 
 world a man for many years the most successful of his species. 
 
 From observation of this interesting lady I was called off 
 by the scene which followed. After the emperor had been 
 awhile seated (his brothers and the public functionaries around 
 him, as expressed in a printed programme), the oath was ad- 
 
480 INAUGURATION OF THE EMPEROE. 
 
 ministered to the peers and deputies individually, so that each 
 was distinctly marked by name ; and what. I considered most 
 fortunate was, that a French gentleman, who sat immediately 
 before me (I believe some public officer), was assiduous in giv- 
 ing the two ladies who accompanied him, not only the name 
 of each peer or deputy, as he took the oath, but also some de- 
 scription of him. I took advantage of this incident, and in a 
 little tablet copied down the names of such as I had heard 
 spoken of as remarkable persons, and particularly the generals 
 and marshals. 
 
 The manner of administering and taking the oath was very 
 different from ours * The French had, from the period of the 
 Revolution, very justly conceived that an oath of any descrip- 
 tion would not be one atom more binding on the party if taken 
 upon a book than if trust were reposed in their mere word of 
 honor. On the present occasion, each person, as his name was 
 called over, arose, and holding out his right arm to its extent 
 (the palm of the hand uppermost), deliberately pronounced- — 
 " Je jure jidelite a Vempereur, et ohedience a la constitution." The 
 reader will easily believe that it was a source of the utmost in- 
 terest to watch the countenances of these dignitaries of France 
 while they were engaged in performing this important ceremo- 
 nial. My physiognomical observation was kept fully on the 
 stretch, and was never, before or since, so sated with materials 
 to work upon. The emperor, meanwhile, as I have already 
 
 * One of the devices to prevent the accumulation of petty larceny, in the 
 court of common pleas of Ireland, was very amusing. Lord Norbury's regis- 
 ter, Mr. Peter Jackson, complained grievously to his lordship that he really 
 could not afford to supply the court with gospels or prayer-books, as witnes- 
 ses, after they had taken their oaths, were in the constant habit of stealing 
 the book! "Peter," said Lord Norbury, "if the rascals read the book, it 
 will do them more good than the petty larceny may do them mischief." — 
 "Read or not read," urged Peter, "they are rogues, that's plain. I have 
 tied the book fast, but nevertheless they have contrived to loosen and ab- 
 stract it." — " Well, well," replied my lord, " if they are not afraid of the cord, 
 hang your gospel in chains, and that, perhaps, by reminding the fellows of 
 the fate of their fathers and grandfathers, may make them behave them- 
 selves." Peter Jackson took the hint: provided a good-looking, well-bound 
 New Testament, which he secured with a strong jackchain that had evi- 
 dently done duty before the kitchen-fire, and was made fast to the rail of 
 the jury-gallery. Thus the holy volume had free scope to swing about and 
 clink as much as it chose, to the great terror of witnesses, and good order 
 of the jurors themselves. 
 
THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE. 481 
 
 mentioned, sat almost immoveable. He did not appear exhil- 
 arated ; indeed, on the other hand, I think he was indisposed. 
 His breast heaved at times very perceptibly ; an involuntary 
 convulsed motion agitated his lip ; but never did I see an eye 
 more indefatigaole and penetrating ! As each man's name 
 was called, and the oath administered, its regard was fixed 
 upon the individual ; and nothing could be more curious to the 
 spectator than to transfer his gaze alternately from the party 
 taking the oath to the emperor himself. Some of the peers 
 and deputies, Napoleon's eye passed over with scarcely a look ; 
 while others he regarded as though disposed to penetrate their 
 very souls, and search there for proofs of a sincerity he consid- 
 ered doubtful. Some seemed to excite a pleasurable, others a 
 painful sensation, within him ; though this was difficult to rec- 
 ognise, inasmuch as his features seldom, and never more than 
 slightly, changed their entire expression. The countenances 
 of the members themselves were more easily read, and afforded 
 in many instances good clews whereby, if not the real feelings, 
 at least the tendency of the parties, might be deciphered. Some 
 stood boldly up, and loudly, and without hesitation, took the 
 oath ; while others, in slow, tremulous voices, pledged them- 
 selves to what they either never meant, or were not quite cer- 
 tain of their ability, to perform ; and a few displayed manifest 
 symptoms of repugnance in their manner. But the scene was 
 of that nature so splendid — so generally interesting — that few 
 persons, except those whose habits had long led them to the 
 study of mankind, or such as might have some special interest 
 in the result, would have attended to these indications, which 
 were, of course, not suffered in any instance to become prom- 
 inent. 
 
 One of the first persons who took the oath was Fouche, duke 
 of Otranto. I had been in this nobleman's office on my first 
 arrival in Paris, and had marked his countenance. He had 
 originally been a monk (I believe a Jesuit), and was on all 
 hands admitted to be a man of the utmost talent, but at the 
 same time wholly destitute of moral principle — a man who, in 
 order to attain his ends, would disregard justice, and set opin- 
 ion at insolent defiance. But, above all, Fouche's reigning 
 
 21 
 
482 INAUGURATION OF THE EMPEBOR. 
 
 character was duplicity : in that qualification of a statesman 
 lie had no rival. Napoleon knew him thoroughly ; but, cir- 
 cumstanced as he was, he had occasion for such men. 
 
 Yet even Fouche I really think was, on this day, off his 
 guard. He was at the time, there can be little doubt, in actual 
 communication with some of Napoleon's enemies ; and he cer- 
 tainly appeared, whether or not from " compunctious visitings 
 of conscience," to be ill at his ease. I kept my eye much on 
 him ; and it was quite obvious to me that some powerful train 
 of feeling was working within his breast. On his name being 
 called, there was nothing either bold, frank, or steady, in his 
 appearance or demeanor. He held out his hand not much 
 higher than his hip, and, in a tone of voice languid, if not fal- 
 tering, swore to a fidelity which he was determined, should he 
 find it convenient, to renounce. I really think (and my eye 
 and glass were full upon him) that Fouche, at the moment, 
 felt his own treachery. A slight hectic flush passed over his 
 temples, and his tongue seemed to cleave to his mouth. I can 
 not account for my impression further than this, but from that 
 instant I set down the man as a traitor ! Napoleon for the 
 first time turned his head as Fouche tendered his allegiance. 
 I could perceive no marked expression in the emperor's coun- 
 tenance, which remained placid and steady ; but I could not 
 help thinking that even that complacent regard (which cer- 
 tainly indicated no confidence, if it was free from agitation) 
 seemed to say, " I know you!" The ceremony proceeded; 
 and after a while the name was called of a person whom I had 
 before seen — Count Thibaudeau. The contrast between this 
 gentleman and Fouche was very remarkable. He stood up 
 quickly, and with great firmness stepped a little forward, and 
 held his arm higher than his shoulder: " Je jure" exclaimed 
 Count Thibaudeau; "je jure" — repeating the words with em- 
 phasis — "fdelite a mon emjpereur, et obedience a la constitution /" 
 I watched Napoleon's look : it was still serene, but a ray of 
 gratification was not absent, and shot rapidly across his fea- 
 tures. The business at length terminated. I treasured up in 
 my mind the impressions made upon it that day, and in very 
 few of my forebodings was I eventually mistaken. 
 
THE IMPERIAL SPEECH. 483 
 
 The inauguration of the emperor was now complete, and the 
 reflection was extremely solemn that all the powers of Europe 
 were armed to overthrow the business of that morning. Nei- 
 ther peace nor truce was to be made with Napoleon, who was, 
 on his part, about to try the strength of France alone against 
 a union of inveterate and inexorable foes. He was now about 
 to inform his assembled legislators of this decision, and to 
 make a declaration that should at once rouse the French peo- 
 ple generally, and instil into the legislature a portion of his 
 own energy. 
 
 I was all expectation. The critical moment arrived : the 
 occasion — the place — the subject — and more especially the 
 effect expected to be produced — all combined in leading me 
 to anticipate some speech more impressive than any I had 
 ever heard. 
 
 The emperor rose from his throne rather quickly, raised his 
 hat for a moment, and looked round him with a glance which, 
 though probably meant to imply confidence, had to me the 
 expression of scrutiny. Having done this, he reseated himself, 
 and commenced his speech. In language, it was well adapted 
 to the French soldiery ; as a proclamation, it might be consid- 
 ered admirable ; but to a legislative assembly, it seemed to me 
 (perhaps erroneously) ill adapted. I did expect, at all events, 
 that it would be pronounced with that energy which was in- 
 dicative of the speaker's character ; but miserably was I dis- 
 appointed ! Napoleon read it distinctly, but, to my mind, 
 utferly without effect : there was no ardor, no emphasis, no 
 modulation of voice, no action to enforce the sentiment. The 
 delivery was monotonous and unimpressive ; nor can I yet 
 'conceive how it was possible such a man could pronounce such a 
 speech without evincing that warmth of feeling which the words, 
 as well as the great subject itself (to say nothing of his own 
 situation), were calculated to inspire. The French in general 
 read extremely ill ; and Napoleon's style of elocution was a 
 very humble specimen even of theirs. He ran the sentences 
 into each other ; in short, seemed to view the whole thing as a 
 mere matter of course, and to be anxious to get through it. It 
 put me more in mind of a solicitor reading a marriage-settle- 
 
484 INAUGURATION OF THE EMPEROE. 
 
 ment than anything else. Here and there, indeed, he ap- 
 peared somewhat touched by the text, and most probably lie 
 himself 'felt it all ; but he certainly expressed nothing in a man- 
 ner that could make others feel it. The concluding words of 
 the speech — " This is the moment to conquer or to perish" — 
 though pronounced by Napoleon with little more energy than 
 the preceding parts (very much as if he had been saying, "And 
 your petitioner will ever pray"), made a strong and visible im- 
 pression upon the entire auditory. Two or three of the depu- 
 ties, I observed, by (to all appearance) an involuntary move- 
 ment, put their hands on their sword-hilts, and whispered to 
 those who sat next them ; and among the military officers who 
 were in the assembly there was evidently a very gallant feel- 
 ing. I cast my eye at this moment on Fouche : he was look- 
 ing upon the ground, seemingly in contemplation, and moved 
 not a muscle. 
 
 At the conclusion of his speech, Napoleon, whose vapid man- 
 ner had considerably damped my previous excitement, imme- 
 diately descended from the throne, and, in the same state, and 
 amid redoubled applauses, returned to the palace to make his 
 last preparations to put into execution what I have since heard 
 denominated by English generals the finest military manoeuvre 
 of his whole life. Two things seem to be universally admit- 
 ted : that the first object of that train of movements — namely, 
 the surprise and division of the allied troops — was completely 
 successful ; and that its second object — the defeat of those 
 troops in a general engagement — was so near its accomplish- 
 ment, that its failure may almost be regarded as miraculous. 
 
 I returned home full of reflection. I soon recounted all my 
 impressions (particularly with respect to Fouche and Napoleon) 
 to my family and two or three friends who dined with us. I 
 did not hesitate to speak frankly my opinion of the game 
 played by the duke of Otranto, nor did any long period elapse 
 before my predictions were verified. 
 
PREPARATIONS TO PROMULGATE THE CONSTITUTION. 485 
 
 PROMULGATION OF THE CONSTITUTION 
 
 Apathy of the People — Temporary Building in Front of the Hotel des Invalides — Pont de 
 Jena — Policy of Napoleon regarding Fouche — Procession to the Champ de Mars — Pecu 
 liar Accoutrements of a Regiment of Cavalry — Reflections on some Points in the History 
 of Napoleon — His Mistake in changing the Republican into a Monarchical Government- 
 Coaches of Ceremony of the French Noblesse and Officers of State — The Emperor's Lib- 
 erality to various Members of his Court — His Personal Dejection on this Day — Rejoicings 
 succeeding the Promulgation — Superiority of the French in Matters of Embellishment — 
 Gratuitous Distribution of Provisions and Wine — Politeness of the Lower Orders of 
 French — Display of Fireworks — Mr. Hobhouse's " Second Reign of Napoleon." 
 
 The promulgation of the new articles of the constitution by 
 Napoleon at the Champ de Mars, promised to elicit much of 
 the public sentiment. For my own part, I conceived that it 
 would be the true touchstone of Parisian feeling ; but in that 
 idea I was greatly disappointed. 
 
 It was natural to suppose that the modification of a consti- 
 tution, by a nearly despotic monarch, whereby his own power 
 would be greatly contracted, would, even under Napoleon's 
 circumstances, be considered one of the measures best calcu- 
 lated to propitiate a long-trammelled population. But, in fact, 
 the thing assumed no such character. The spectacle, seemed, 
 indeed, of the utmost value to the Parisians, but the constitu- 
 tion of little, if any. They had never possessed any regular 
 constitution, and, I really think, had no settled or digested 
 ideas upon the subject. 
 
 The extraordinary splendor of the preparations for this cer- 
 emony, and the admixture of civil and military pomp, were to 
 me very interesting. The temporary buildings thrown up for 
 the occasion might, it is true, be denominated tawdry ; yet, 
 strangely enough, there is no other people except the French 
 who can deck out such gewgaws with anything like corre- 
 sponding taste and effect. 
 
 The scene was on an immense scale. In an inconceivably 
 short time, and almost as if by the effect of magic, a sort of 
 amphitheatre was constructed in front of the Hotel des Inva- 
 lides, and which was of magnitude sufficient to contain about 
 fifteen thousand persons. In the centre arose an altar, similar 
 
486 PROMULGATION OF THE CONSTITUTION. 
 
 to those provided, in ancient sacrifices, for the sacred fire to de- 
 scend upon; and at this altar Cardinal Cambaceres presided. 
 A great proportion of the front of the hospital was covered 
 with crimson velvet, and the imperial throne was placed on 
 the platform of the first story, facing the altar : around it were 
 seats for the princes. I was not present at the actual cere- 
 mony within the great temporary edifice. 
 
 I had, on the occasion of the inauguration (as already stated), 
 fully satisfied myself as to the demeanor of both the emperor 
 and the senators ; but I had not seen the grand cortege which 
 had preceded : and on this occasion, as it was to be much more 
 of a military procession, and the emperor's last public appear- 
 ance before he joined the army to decide the fate of Europe, 
 I was desirous of witnessing the spectacle, and accordingly 
 engaged a window on the quay for my family, in a house close 
 to the Pont de Jena, over which the whole must pass on its 
 way to the Hotel des Invalides. We had thence a close and 
 full view of the Champ de Mars, of the amphitheatre, and of 
 the artificial mount whence the constitution was to be pro- 
 claimed by the emperor in person to the people. 
 
 Napoleon well knew the great importance of leaving a strong 
 impression on the public feeling. His posting from the coast 
 to the Tuileries without interruption was the most extraordi- 
 nary event in history, ancient or modern : but it was not imme- 
 diately followed up by any unusual circumstance, or any very 
 splendid spectacle, to rouse or gratify Parisian volatility. The 
 retired official life of the emperor after his return (necessarily 
 absorbed in business night and day) had altogether excited 
 little or no stir, and still less expression of public feeling, in 
 the metropolis ; in fact, the Parisians did not seem to feel so 
 much interest about the state of affairs as they would have 
 done upon the most unimportant occurrences. They make 
 light of everything except their 2^o:sure, which always was 
 and always will be the god of Paris ; and never was any deity 
 more universally and devoutly worshipped ! The king's flight 
 to Ghent was then as little thought of or regarded as if he had 
 gone to St. Cloud ; and Napoleon's arrival made as little stir 
 as Louis's departure. But the emperor was now about to go 
 
PROCESSION TO THE CHAMP DK MARS. 487 
 
 to battle ; was Avell aware of the treachery which surrounded 
 him, and that on his success or discomfiture depended its ex- 
 plosion. He determined, therefore, as he had not time to coun- 
 teract, to dissemble : and I have no doubt that to this circum- 
 stance alone Fouche knew he owed his existence. The month 
 preceding Napoleon's departure from Paris, he became thorough- 
 ly acquainted with the intrigues of his minister ; and I firmly be- 
 lieve that each was determined on the destruction of the other 
 upon the first feasible opportunity, as the only means of secu- 
 ring himself. I do believe that Fouche would not have sur- 
 vived Bonaparte's successful return more than four-and-twenty 
 hours, and I equally believe that Fouche had actually medi- 
 tated, and made some progress in^providing for, Napoleon's 
 assassination. I made up my mind on these points, not from 
 any direct information, but from a process yclept by our great- 
 grandmothers " spelling and putting together ;" and if the reader 
 will be good enough to bear in mind what I told him respect- 
 ing the society at Dr. Marshall's, as well as the intelligence 
 acquired by my servant Thevenot, he will not be at a loss to 
 understand how I got at my materials. 
 
 In truth, the army alone, I suspect, was sincerely attached 
 to the reinstated monarch. By his soldiers Bonaparte was, in 
 every part of his career, almost worshipped. They seemed to 
 regard him rather as a demigod, and nobody could be deceived 
 as to their entire devotion to the divinity which they had set 
 up. But it was not so with the civil ranks of Paris. 
 
 I should tire myself and readers were I to describe the al- 
 most boyish anxiety which I felt when the firing of the ord- 
 nance announced the first movement of the emperor from the 
 Tuileries to the Champ de Mars. I shall leave to the suppo- 
 sition of the reader the impression I received from the passing 
 of the cortege. Let him picture to himself an immense army 
 pouring along the spacious quays of Paris, in battalions and 
 squadrons — the enthusiasm of the soldiers, the bright cuiras- 
 ses, the multitude of waving plumes — the magnificence of the 
 marshals and their staff: these, set off by the glowing sun, 
 combined to implant in the mind of a person unaccustomed to 
 such a sight the idea of almost certain victory. 
 
4:88 PROMULGATION OF THE CONSTITUTION. 
 
 What struck me most was the appearance of a splendid hut 
 not numerous regiment, in the costume of Turkish cavalry, 
 mounted upon small barhs, and dashingly accoutred. Their 
 officers rode, for the most part, piebald horses, many of which 
 were caparisoned with breast-armor, and decked in gaudy 
 trappings. The uniform of the men was scarlet, with green 
 Cossack trowsers, immense turbans, and high plumes of feath- 
 ers — the whole ornamented and laced in as splendid and glit- 
 tering a style as ingenuity could dictate ; their stirrups were 
 footboards, and they had very crooked sabres and long lances. 
 I believe these men were accoutred en Mameluck, and I men- 
 tion them the more particularly, because I believe they did not 
 go to Waterloo — at least not in that uniform. In calling to 
 my recollection this superb scene, the hundred bands of mar- 
 tial music seem even at this moment to strike my ear. It 
 seemed as if every instrument in Paris was in requisition ! 
 The trumpets and kettledrums of the gaudy heralds, the deep 
 sackbuts, the crashing cymbals, and the loud gongs of the 
 splendid Mamelukes, bewildered both the ear and the imagi- 
 nation : at first they astonished, then gratified, and at length 
 fatigued me. About the centre of this procession appeared its 
 principal object — who, had he lived in times of less fermenta- 
 tion, would, in my opinion, have been a still greater statesman 
 than he was a warrior. It is indisputable that it was Bona- 
 parte who freed the entire continent of Europe from that demo- 
 cratic mania, of all other tyrannies the most cruel, savage, and 
 unrelenting ; and which was still in full, though less-rapid prog- 
 ress, when he, by placing the diadem of France on his own 
 brow, restored the principle of monarchy to its vigor, and at 
 one blow overwhelmed the many -headed monster of revolution. 
 
 It has been the fashion, in England, to term Napoleon a 
 " Corsican usurper." We should have recollected Paoli before 
 we reproached him for being a Corsican, and we should have 
 recurred to our own annals before we called him a usurper ! 
 He mounted a throne which had long been vacant : the decap- 
 itation of Louis, in which he could have had no concern, had 
 completely overwhelmed the dynasty of Bourbon, and Napo- 
 leon in a day re-established that monarchical form of govern- 
 
STATE-COACHES OF FRENCH NOBLESSE. 48"9 
 
 ment wliicli tee had, with so much expense of blood and treas- 
 ure, been for many years unsuccessfully attempting to restore. 
 I can not avoid repeating this pointed example of our own in- 
 consistency. We actually made peace and concluded treaties 
 with Napoleon Bonaparte when he was acting as a republican 
 (the very species of government against which we had so long 
 combated), and we refused to listen to his most pacific demon- 
 strations when he became a monarch !* 
 
 This has, I confess, been a sad digression ; but when I call 
 to mind that last scene of Bonaparte's splendor, I can not alto- 
 gether separate from it the prior portion of his history and that 
 of Europe. I have mentioned that about the centre of the 
 cortege the emperor and his court appeared. It was the cus- 
 tom in France for every person of a certain rank to keep a 
 sort of state-coach gaudily gilded and painted, and, in addition 
 to the footmen, a chasseur to mount behind, dressed en grande 
 toilette, with huge mustaches, immense feathers in his hat, and 
 a large sabre depending from a broad-laced belt, which crossed 
 his shoulder. He was generally a muscular, fine-looking man,, 
 and always indicated rank and affluence in his master. Na- 
 poleon liked this state to be preserved by all his ministers, &c. 
 He obliged every man in office to appear at court and in pub- 
 lic according to the station he held ; and instances were not 
 wanting where the emperor, having discovered that an officer 
 of rank had not pecuniary means to purchase a coach of cere- 
 mony, had made him a present of a very fine one. He repeat- 
 edly paid the debts of several of his marshals and generals 
 when he thought their incomes somewhat indequate ; and a 
 case has been mentioned, where a high officer of his household 
 had not money to purchase jewels for his wife, of Napoleon or- 
 dering a set to be presented to her, with an injunction to wear 
 them at court. 
 
 On this day he commanded the twelve mayors of Paris to 
 appear in their carriages of ceremony ; and, to do them justice, 
 
 * Another observation I can not but make on this subject. As events 
 have turned out, Napoleon only sat down on the throne of France to keep 
 it for the Bourbons. Had he remained a republican, as when we acknowl- 
 edged and made peace with him, the names of the whole family of Louis 
 Capet would still have appeared on the pension-list of England ! 
 
 21* 
 
490 PROMULGATION OF THE CONSTITUTION. 
 
 they were gilt and caparisoned as finely as time and circum- 
 stances could admit. Bonaparte himself sat alone, in a state- 
 coach, with glass all round it. His feathers bowed deeply 
 over his face, and consequently little more than the lower 
 parts of it were quite uncovered. Whoever has marked the 
 countenance of Napoleon must admit it to have been one of 
 the most expressive ever created. When I say this, I beg to 
 be understood as distinguishing it entirely from what is gener- 
 ally called an expressive countenance — namely, one involun- 
 tarily and candidly proclaiming the feelings whereby its pro- 
 prietor is actuated : the smile, or the look of scorn — the blush, 
 or the tear, serving not unfrequently to communicate matters 
 which the lips would have kept secret. Though that species 
 of expressive countenance may be commonly admired, it is 
 often inconvenient, and would be perfectly unbefitting a king, 
 a courtier, a gambler, an embassador, or, in short, a man in 
 any station of life which renders it incumbent on him to heej) 
 his countenance. The lower portion of Bonaparte's- face (as I 
 have mentioned in speaking of my first glance at it) was the 
 finest I think I ever saw, and peculiarly calculated to set the 
 feelings of others on speculation, without giving any decided inti- 
 mation of his own. On the day of the promulgation it occurred 
 to me, and to my family likewise, as we saw him pass slowly 
 under our window, that the unparalleled splendor of the scene 
 failed in arousing him from that deep dejection which had ap- 
 parently seized him ever since his return to Paris, and which 
 doubtless arose from a consciousness of his critical situation, 
 and the hollow ground whereon he trod. There was ill-timed 
 languor in his general look : he smiled not, and took but little 
 notice of any surrounding object. He appeared, in fact, loaded 
 with some presentiment -~- confined, however, to himself; for, 
 of all possible events, his approaching and sudden fate was 
 last, I believe, in the contemplation of any person among that 
 prodigious assembly. I apprehend the intelligence of Murat's 
 defeat in Italy had reached him about that time. 
 
 Two marshals rode on each side of Napoleon's coach, and 
 his three brothers occupied the next : I thought these men all 
 appeared cheerful ; at any rate, no evil presentiments were 
 
REJOICINGS GRATUITOUS FEASTfNGS. 491 
 
 visible in their countenances. After the emperor had passed, 
 my interest diminished. I was absorbed by reflection, and my 
 mind was painfully diverted to the probable result of the 
 impending contest, which would most likely plunge into a 
 gory and crowded grave thousands of the gay and sparkling 
 warriors who, full of the principle of life and activity, had that 
 moment passed before me. 
 
 The crowds in the Champ de Mars ; the firing of the artil- 
 lery ; the spirited bustle of the entire scene ; and the return 
 of the same cortege after the constitution had been proclaimed, 
 left me in a state of absolute languor — every fresh idea sup- 
 planting its predecessor in my mind ; and when I returned to 
 my hotel, it required more than a single bottle of Chateau 
 Margot to restore the serenity of my over-excited nerves. 
 
 The rejoicings which followed the promulgation of the con- 
 stitution were in a style of which I had no previous conception. 
 I have already observed, and every person who has been much 
 on the continent will bear me out in the remark, that no people 
 are so very adroit at embellishment as the French. Our car- 
 penters, paper-hangers, &c, know no more about Parisian em- 
 bellishments than our plain cooks do of the hundred and 
 twenty-six modes of dressing a fresh egg, whereof every 
 French cuisinier is perfectly master. 
 
 Many temporary stands had been erected in the Champs 
 d'Elysee, whence to toss out all species of provisions to the 
 populace. Hams, turkeys, sausages, &c, &c, were to be had 
 in abundance by scrambling for them. Twenty fountains of 
 wine were set playing into the jars, cups, and pails of allwho 
 chose to adventure getting near them. A number of temporary 
 theatres were constructed, and games started throughout the 
 green. Quadrilles and waltzes were practised everywhere 
 around: all species of music — singing — juggling — in fine, 
 everything that could stamp the period of the emperor's de- 
 parture on the minds of the people, were ordered to be put in 
 requisition ; and a scene of enjoyment ensued which, notwith- 
 standing the bustle necessarily attendant, was conducted with 
 the politeness and decorum of a drawing-room ; with much 
 more, indeed, than prevails at most of our public assemblies. 
 
492 PROMULGATION OF THE CONSTITUTION. 
 
 No pickpockets were heard of; no disputes of any description 
 arose ; the very lowest orders of the French canaille appear on 
 such occasions cleanly dressed, and their very nature renders 
 them polite and courteous to each other. They make way 
 with respect for any woman, even from a duchess to a beggar- 
 woman. 
 
 Stretching across the whole of the Place Louis Quinze, was 
 a transparent painting of Napoleon's return from Elba — the 
 mimic ship being of equal dimensions with the real one. 
 Napoleon appeared on the deck, and the entire effect was 
 most impressive. 
 
 The rejoicings concluded with a display of fireworks — a 
 species of entertainment, by-the-by, wherein I never delighted. 
 It commenced with a flight of five thousand rockets, of various 
 colors, and was terminated by the ascent of a balloon loaded 
 with every species of firework, which, bursting high in the air, 
 illuminated with overpowering blaze the whole atmosphere. 
 By midnight, all, like an "unsubstantial pageant," had faded, 
 leaving the ill-starred emperor to pursue his route to partial 
 victory, final defeat, and ruin.* 
 
 One remark in conclusion : — it was really extraordinary to 
 
 *I have read with pleasure many parts of "Napoleon's Second Reign," by 
 Mr. Hobhouse. Though I do not coincide with that gentleman in all his 
 views of the subject (differing from him in toto as to some), I admit the jus- 
 tice of a great portion of his observations, and consider the work, on the 
 whole, as a very clever performance. In several matters of description and 
 anecdote, he has anticipated me ; and I really think he has treated them 
 with as much accuracy, and in a much more comprehensive manner, than I 
 should, or perhaps could have done. Mine in fact is but a sketch — his a 
 history. In some matters of fact he appears to have been imperfectly 
 informed : but they are not errors of a sufficiently important nature to in- 
 volve any charge of general inaccuracy. I myself kept an ample diary of 
 the events of the "Hundred Days" (of so much of them at least as I spent 
 in Paris), and until the re-entry of Louis; and in fact subsequently, though 
 less regularly. From these documents, I have extracted what I now pub- 
 lish; but the whole may, perhaps, hereafter appear in its original shape. 
 
 I can not but express my regret that Mr. Hobhouse did not remain in 
 Paris until after Napoleon's return from Belgium, when there was a far 
 wider and fairer field presented for the exercise of his pen. T really con- 
 ceive it will be a loss to literature if he does not recur to that period (ma- 
 terials can not be wanting), take up his own work where he finished, and 
 continue it until the' evacuation of Paris by the allied forces. The events 
 of that interval are richly worth recording ; and it would fill up what is, 
 as yet, nearly a blank in the history of Europe. 
 
IMPATIENCE OF THE PARISIANS. 493 
 
 witness the political apathy wherein the entire population, 
 save the military, was bound. Scarce a single expression or 
 indication of party feeling escaped in any direction. All 
 seemed bent on pleasure, and on pleasure alone ; careless 
 whether the opportunity for its indulgence were afforded them 
 by Napoleon or Louis — by preparations for peace or war — by 
 the establishment of despotism or liberty. They were, I sin- 
 cerely believe, absolutely weary of politics, and inclined to 
 view any suggestion of that nature with emotions of bitterness. 
 At all times, indeed, the Parisians prefer pleasure to serious 
 speculation ; and the wisest king of France will ever be that one 
 who contrives to keep his good citizens " constantly amused" 
 
 LAST DAYS OF THE IMPERIAL GOVERNMENT. 
 
 Rejoicings on Napoleon's Victory over Blucher and Surprise of Lord Wellington — Bulletin 
 issued at St. Cloud — Budget of News communicated by a French Cockney — Author's 
 Alarm's on Account of his Family — Proposes quitting Paris — Information of Henry Theve- 
 not : confirmed at Lafitte's — Napoleon's Return from Waterloo — The Author's Sources of 
 Intelligence — His Visits to the Chamber of Deputies — Garat, Minister of Justice at the 
 Period of Louis' Decapitation — The Rousseau MSS. and their Peculiar Utility to the 
 Author — Fouche's Treachery — Vacillating Plan to inform Napoleon thereof, through 
 Count Thibaudeau — Observations on the Vicissitudes and Political Extinction of Bona- 
 oarte. 
 
 The emperor having left Paris to take command of the army 
 in Belgium, the garrison left in that city was necessarily very 
 inconsiderable. It was the universal belief, that the allies 
 would be surprised by a simultaneous attack, and the event 
 warranted this supposition. The result was — a double defeat 
 of Blucher ; the separation of the Prussian and British armies ; 
 the retreat of Lord Wellington upon Brussels ; the march of 
 Grouchy upon that city ; and the advance of Napoleon. The 
 impatience of the Parisians for news may be easily conceived ; 
 nor were they kept long in suspense. Meanwhile, there ran 
 through the whole mass of society a suspicion that treachery 
 was on foot, but nobody could guess in what shape it would 
 explode. The assassination of Napoleon was certainly re- 
 garded as a thing in contemplation, and the disaffection of 
 
494: LAST DAYS OF THE IMPERIAL GOVERNMENT. 
 
 sundry general officers publicly discussed at the Palais Royal ; 
 but no names were mentioned except Fouche's. 
 
 On Sunday, the 18th of June, at daybreak, I was roused by 
 the noise of artillery. I rose and instantly sallied out to in- 
 quire the cause : nobody could at the moment inform me ; but 
 it was soon announced that it was public rejoicings on account 
 of a great victory gained by Napoleon over the Prussians, 
 commanded by Blucher, and the English, by the duke of 
 Wellington : that the allies had been partly surprised, and 
 were in rapid retreat, followed by the emperor and flanked by 
 Grouchy ; that a lancer had arrived as courier, and had given 
 many details — one of which was that our light dragoons, 
 under Lord Anglesea, had been completely destroyed. 
 
 I immediately determined to quit Paris for the day. It 
 was Sunday : everybody was afoot, the drums were beating in 
 all directions, and it was impossible to say how the canaille 
 might, in exultation at the victory, be disposed to act by 
 the English in Paris. We, therefore, set out early and break- 
 ' fasted at St. Cloud : the report of the victory had reached that 
 village, but I perceived no indication of any great feeling on 
 the subject. We adjourned to Bagatelle, in the very pretty 
 gardens of which we sauntered about till dinner-time. 
 
 This victory did not surprise me ; for when I saw the mag- 
 nificent array of troops on the occasion of the promulgation, I 
 had adopted the unmilitary idea that they must be invincible. 
 As yet we had heard no certain particulars : about eleven 
 o'clock, however, printed bulletins were liberally distributed, 
 announcing an unexpected attack on the Prussian and English 
 armies with the purpose of dividing them, which purpose was 
 stated to be fully accomplished ; the duke of Brunswick killed ; 
 the prince of Orange wounded ; two Scotch regiments broken 
 and sabred ; Lord Wellington in fall retreat ; Blucher's army 
 absolutely ruined ; and the emperor in full inarch for Brussels, 
 where the Belgian army would join the French, and march 
 unitedly for Berlin. The day was rather drizzling : Ave took 
 shelter in the grotto, and were there joined by some Parisian 
 shopkeeper and his family, who had come out from the capital 
 for their recreation. This man told us a hundred incidents, 
 
A FKENCH COCKNEY'S BUDGET OF NEWS. 495 
 
 which were circulated in Paris with relation to the battle. 
 Among other things, it was said, that if the emperor's generals 
 did their duty, the campaign might be already considered over, 
 since every man in France and Belgium would rise in favor of 
 the emperor. He told us news had arrived, that the Austrians 
 were to be neutral, and that the Russians durst advance no 
 further ; that the king of Prussia would be dethroned, and that 
 it was generally believed, Lord Wellington would either be 
 dead or in the castle of Vincennes by Wednesday morning ! 
 This budget of intelligence our informant communicated him- 
 self in a very neutral way, and without betraying the slightest 
 symptom of either gratification or the reverse ; and as it was 
 impossible to doubt the main point (the defeat), I really began 
 to think all was lost, and that it was high time to consider how 
 we should get out of France forthwith ; more particularly as 
 the emperor's absence from Paris would, by leaving it at the 
 mercy of the populace, render that city no longer a secure 
 residence for the subjects of a hostile kingdom. How singular 
 was the fact, that, at the very moment I was receiving this 
 news — at the very instant when I conceived Napoleon again 
 the conqueror of the world, and the rapidity of his success as 
 only supplementary to the rapidity of his previous return, and 
 a prelude to fresh achievemeiilsf that bloody and decisive 
 conflict was actually at its height, wl^ich. had been decreed by 
 Providence to terminate Napoleon's political existence ! What 
 an embarrassing problem to the minc| of a casuist must a specu- 
 lation be, as to the probable results/at this day, of a different 
 dispensation ! 
 
 Our minds were now made up to quit Paris on the following 
 Thursday ; and, as the securest course, to get down to St. 
 Maloes, and thence to Jersey, or some of the adjacent islands «• 
 and without mentioning our intention, I determined to make 
 every preparation connected with the use: of the savf conduit 
 which I had procured on my first arrival in. Paris. But fate 
 decreed it otherwise. Napoleon's destiny had been meantime 
 decided, and my flight became unnecessary. 
 
 On returning to Paris, we 'found eyeryffeing quiet. On that 
 very Sunday night, my servant, the Henry Thevenot, told me 
 
496 LAST DAYS OF THE IMPERIAL GOVERNMENT. 
 
 that lie had heard the French had got entangled in a forest, 
 and met a repulse. He said he had been told this at a public 
 house in Rue Mont Blanc. 
 
 I feared the man : I suspected him to be on the espionnage 
 establishment, and therefore told him to say no more to me 
 about the war, and that I wished much to be in England. 
 
 About nine o'clock on Thursday morning, as soon as I rose, 
 Thevenot again informed me, with a countenance which gave 
 no indication of his own sentiments, that the French were 
 totally defeated, that the emperor had returned to Paris, and 
 that the English were in full march to the capital. 
 
 I always dreaded lest the language of my servant might in 
 some way implicate me, and I now chid him for telling me so 
 great a falsehood. 
 
 " It is true," returned he. 
 
 Still I could not believe it ; and I gave him notice, on the 
 spot, to quit my service. He received this intimation with 
 much seeming indifference, and his whole deportment im- 
 pressed me with suspicion. I went immediately, therefore, 
 to Messrs. Lafitte, my bankers, and the first person I saw was 
 my friend,-Mr. Phillips, very busily employed at his desk in 
 the outside room. 
 
 " Do you know, Phillips," said I, " that I have been obliged 
 to turn off my servant for spreading a report that the French 
 are beaten and the emperor returned ?" 
 
 Phillips, without withdrawing his eyes from what he was 
 engaged on, calmly and concisely replied, " It is true enough." 
 
 " Impossible !" exclaimed I. 
 
 " Quite possible," returned this man of few words. 
 
 "Where is Napoleon?" said I. 
 
 " In the Palais de Bourbon Elysee," said he. 
 
 J saw it was vain to expect further communication from Mr. 
 Phillips, and I went into an inner chamber to Mr. Clement, 
 who seemed, however, more taciturn than the other. 
 
 Being most anxious to learn all the facts, I proceeded to the 
 Palais d'Elysee, my skepticism having meanwhile undergone 
 great diminution from seeing an immense number of splendid 
 equipages darting through the streets, filled with full-dressed 
 
NAPOLEON AFTER HIS DEFEAT AT WATERLOO. 497 
 
 men, plentifully adorned with stars and orders. When I got 
 to the palace, I found the court full of carriages, and a large 
 body of the national guard under arms : yet I could scarcely 
 believe my eyes ; but I soon learned the principal fact from a 
 hundred mouths and with a thousand different details : my 
 informants agreeing only on one point — namely, that the army 
 was defeated by treachery, and that the emperor had returned 
 to Paris in quest of new materiel. Groups and crowds were 
 collecting everywhere ; and confusion reigned triumphant. 
 
 Being somewhat rudely driven out of the courtyard, I now 
 went round to the Champs d'Elysee, at the rear of the palace. 
 Sentinels, belonging to Napoleon's guard, were, by this time, 
 posted outside the long terrace that skirts the garden. They 
 would permit no' person to approach close; but I was near 
 enough to discern Napoleon walking deliberately backward 
 and forward on that terrace, in easy conversation with two 
 persons whom I conceived to be his uncle, Cardinal Fesch, 
 and Count Bertrand — and I afterward heard that I was right. 
 The emperor wore a short blue coat and a small three-cocked 
 hat, and held his hands behind his back seemingly in a most 
 tranquil mood. Nobody could in fact suppose he was in any 
 agitation whatever, and the cardinal appeared much more 
 earnest in the conversation than himself. I stood there about 
 fifteen minutes when the sentries ordered us off; and as I 
 obeyed, I saw Napoleon walk up toward the palace. 
 
 I never saw the emperor of the French after that day, which 
 was, in fact, the last of his reign. It ought to have been the 
 last day of his existence, or the first of some new series of 
 achievements : but fate had crushed the man, and he could 
 rouse himself no more. Though I think he could count but 
 scantily on the fidelity of the national guards, yet he was in 
 possession of Mont-martre, and, as the event proved, another 
 and a very powerful army might soon have been gathered 
 about him. Perhaps, too, had Bonaparte rallied in good earn- 
 est, he might have succeeded in working even on the very pride 
 of his former subjects to free the soil of the gr ancle nation from 
 foreign invasion. 
 
 Madame Le Jeune, the mistress of the hotel wherein we 
 
498 LAST DAYS OF THE IMPERIAL GOVERNMENT. 
 
 resided, was sister to General Le Jeune, the admirable painter 
 who executed those noble pieces of the battles of Jena and 
 Ansterlitz, which had been in the outside room at the gallery 
 of the Tuileries. I am no judge of painting, but I think every- 
 thing he did (and his pieces were numerous) possessed great 
 effect. Through him, until the siege terminated by the sur- 
 render of Paris, we learned all that was going on among the 
 French ; and through Dr. Marshall and Col. Macirone I daily 
 became acquainted with the objects of the English, as I verily 
 believe those two gentlemen were at the same time in corre- 
 spondence with both the British and French authorities. 
 
 After Napoleon had been a few days making faint and fruit- 
 less endeavors to induce the deputies to grant him the materiel 
 and aid him in a new armament, their coldness to himself indi- 
 vidually became too obvious to be misconstrued : fortune had, 
 in fact, forsaken Napoleon, and friends too often follow fortune ; 
 and it soon became notorious that Fouche had every disposition 
 to seal his master's destruction. The emperor had, however, 
 still many true and faithful friends — many ardent partisans 
 on whose fidelity he might rely. He had an army which could 
 not be estranged, which no misfortune could divert from him. 
 But his enemies (including the timid and the neutral among 
 the deputies) appeared to me decidedly to outnumber those 
 who would have gonejfar in insuring his reinstatement. Tran- 
 quillity seemed to be the general wish, and the re-equipment 
 of Napoleon would have rendered it unattainable. 
 
 Nevertheless, the deputies proceeded calmly on their busi- 
 ness, and events every day assumed a more extraordinary 
 appearance. The interval between the emperor's return from 
 Waterloo and his final abdication — between his departure for 
 Malmaison and the siege of Paris — was of the most interesting 
 and important nature ; and so great was my curiosity to be 
 aware of passing events, that I am conscious I went much 
 further lengths than prudence would have warranted. 
 
 During the debates in the deputies after Napoleon's return, 
 I was almost daily present. I met a gentleman who procured 
 me a free admission, and through whom I became acquainted, 
 by name with most, and personally with many, of the most 
 
GARAT THE ROUSSEAU MSS. 499 
 
 celebrated characters, not only of the current time, but also 
 who had flourished during the different stages of the revolution. 
 I was particularly made known to Garat, who had been minis- 
 ter of justice at the time Louis XVI. was beheaded, and had 
 read to him his sentence and conducted him to the scaffold. 
 Although he had not voted for the king's death, he durst not 
 refuse to execute his official functions ; his attendance, there- 
 fore, could not be considered as voluntary. He was at this 
 time a member of the deputies. His person would well answer 
 the idea of a small, slight, sharp-looking, lame tailor ; but his 
 conversation was acute, rational, and temperate. He regarded 
 Napoleon as lost beyond all redemption ; nor did he express 
 any great regret, seeming to me a man of much mental reser- 
 vation. I suspect he had been too much of a genuine republi- 
 can, and of too democratic and liberal a policy, ever to have 
 been any great admirer even of the most splendid of impera- 
 tors. I think he was sent out of Paris on the king's restoration. 
 
 My friend having introduced me to the librarian of the 
 chamber of deputies, I was suffered to sit in the anteroom, or 
 library, whenever I chose, and had, consequently a full oppor- 
 tunity of seeing the ingress and egress of the deputies, who 
 frequently formed small groups in the anteroom, and entered 
 into earnest, although brief conferences. My ready access to 
 the gallery of the house itself enabled me likewise to know the 
 successive objects of their anxious solicitude. 
 
 The librarian was particularly obliging, and suffered me to 
 see and examine many of the most curious old documents. 
 But the original manuscript of Rousseau's " Confessions," and 
 of his " Eloisa," produced me a real treat. His writing is as 
 legible as print : the " Eloisa," a work of mere fancy, without 
 one obliteration ; while the " Confessions," which the author 
 put forth as matter of fact, are, oddly enough, full of alterations 
 in every page. 
 
 When I wished for an hour of close observation, I used to 
 draw my chair to a window, get Rousseau into my hand, and, 
 while apparently riveted on his " Confessions," watch from 
 the corner of my eye the earnest gesticulation and ever-varying 
 countenances of some agitated group of deputies : many of 
 
500 LAST DAYS OF THE IMPERIAL GOVERNMENT. 
 
 tliem, as they passed by, cast a glance on the object of my 
 attention, of which I took care that "they should always have a 
 complete view. 
 
 Observing one day a very unusual degree of excitement 
 among the members in the chamber, and perceiving the sally 
 of the groups into the library to be more frequent and earnest 
 than ordinary, I conceived that something very mysterious was 
 in agitation. I mentioned my suspicions to a well-informed 
 friend : he nodded assent, but was too wise or too timorous to 
 give any opinion on so ticklish a subject. I well knew that 
 Napoleon had been betrayed, because I had learned from an 
 authentic source that secret despatches had been actually sent 
 by Fouche to the allies, and that the embassy to the emperor 
 of Russia, from M. Lafitte, &c, had been some hours antici- 
 pated and counteracted by the chief commissioner of govern- 
 ment. 
 
 It was clear to everybody that Napoleon had lost his forti- 
 tude : in fact, to judge by his conduct, he seemed so feeble and 
 irresolute, that he had ceased to be formidable ; and it occurred 
 to me that some sudden and strong step was in the contempla- 
 tion of his true friends, to raise his energies once more, and 
 stimulate him to resistance. I was led to think so particularly 
 by hearing some of his warmest partisans publicly declare that, 
 if he had not lost all feeling for both himself and France, he 
 should take the alternative of either reigning again or dying 
 in the centre of his still-devoted army. 
 
 The next day confirmed my surmises. I discovered that a 
 letter had been written without signature, addressed to Count 
 Thibaudeau, but not yet sent, disclosing to him, in detail and 
 with proofs, the treachery of Fouche, &c, and advising the 
 emperor instantly to arrest the traitors, unfold the treason to 
 the chambers — then put himself at the head of his guards, re- 
 assemble the army at Vilette, and, before the allies could unite, 
 make one effort more to save France from subjugation. This 
 was, I heard, the purport of the letter ; and I also learned the 
 mode and hour determined on to carry it to Count Thibaudeau. 
 It was to be slipped into the letter-box in the ante-room of the 
 chamber, which was used, as I have already mentioned, as a 
 
FOUCHJfl's TREACHERV. 501 
 
 library. I was determined to ascertain the fact ; and, seated 
 in one of the windows, turning over the leaves and copying 
 passages out of my favorite manuscripts, I could see plainly 
 where the letter-box was placed, and kept it constantly in my 
 eye. The crowd was always considerable ; groups were con- 
 versing ; notes and letters were every moment put into the box 
 for delivery ; but I did not see the person who had been de- 
 scribed to me as about to give Count Thibaudeau the informa- 
 tion. At length, however, I saw him warily approach the box. 
 He was obviously agitated — so much so, indeed, that far from 
 avoiding, his palpable timidity would have excited observation. 
 He had the note in his hand : he looked around him, put his 
 hand toward the box, withdrew it, changed color, made a sec- 
 ond effort — and his resolution again faltering, walked away 
 without effecting his purpose. I afterward learned that the 
 letter had been destroyed, and that Count Thibaudeau received 
 no intimation till too late. 
 
 This was an incident fraught Avith portentous results. Had 
 that note been dropped as intended, into the box, the fate of 
 Europe might have remained long undecided ; Fouche, the 
 most eminent of traitors, would surely have met his due reward ; 
 Bonaparte would have put himself at the head of the army 
 assembling at Vilette — numerous, enthusiastic, and desperate. 
 Neither the Austrian nor the Russian armies were within reach 
 of Paris ; while that of the French would, I believe, in point 
 of numbers, have exceeded the English and Prussian united 
 force : and it is more than probable that the most extermina- 
 ting battle which ever took place between two great armies 
 would have been fought next day in the suburbs, or perhaps 
 in the Boulevards, of Paris. 
 
 Very different indeed were the consequences of that suppres- 
 sion. The evil genius of Napoleon pressed down the balance ; 
 and instead of any chance -of remounting his throne, he for- 
 feited both his lofty character and his life ; and Fouche, dread- 
 ing the. risk of detection, devised a plan to get the emperor 
 clear out of France, and put him at least into the power of the 
 British government. 
 
 This last occurrence marked finally the destiny of Napoleon. 
 
502 DETENTION AT YILETTE. 
 
 Fortune had not only forsaken, but she mocked him ! She tossed 
 about, and played with, before she destroyed her victim — one 
 moment giving him hopes which only rendered despair more 
 terrible the next. After what I saw of his downfall, no public 
 event, no revolution, can ever excite in my mind one moment 
 of surprise. I have seen, and deeply feel, that we are daily 
 deceived in our views of everything and everybody. 
 
 Bonaparte's last days of power were certainly full of tre- 
 mendous vicissitudes : on one elated by a great victory — on 
 the next overwhelmed by a fatal overthrow. Hurled from a 
 lofty throne ii^o the deepest profundity of misfortune ; bereft 
 of his wife and only child ; persecuted by his enemies ; aban- 
 doned by his friends ; betrayed by his ministers ; humbled, 
 depressed, paralyzed — his proud heart died within him ; his 
 great spirit was quenched ; and, after a grievous struggle, de- 
 spair became his conqueror — and Napoleon Bonaparte degen- 
 erated into an ordinary mortal ! 
 
 DETENTION AT VILETTE. 
 
 Negotiation between the Provisional Government of Paris and the Allies — Colonel Mad- 
 rone's Mission — The Author crosses the Barrier of the French Army, misses the Colonel, 
 and is detained on Suspicion — Led before Marshal Davoust, Prince d'Eckmuhl, and Com- 
 mander-in-Chief of the Forces at Vilette — The Marshal's Haujrhty Demeanor, and the 
 Imprecations of the Soldiery — A Friend in Need ; or, one Good Turn deserves Another 
 — Remarks of a French Officer on the Battle of Waterloo — Account of the Physical and 
 Moral Strength and Disposition of the Army at Vilette — Return of the Parlementaires — 
 Awkward Mistake of one of the Sentries — Liberation of the Author — Marsha] Davoust'a 
 Expressions to the Negotiators. 
 
 In the month of July, 1815, there was a frequent intercourse 
 of parlement aires between the commissioners of the French 
 government and the allies. Davoust, prince d'Eckmuhl, com- 
 manded the French army assembled at Vilette and about the 
 canal d'Ourk, a neighborhood where many thousand Russians 
 had fallen in the battle of the preceding summer. I had the 
 greatest anxiety to see the French army ; and Colonel Maci- 
 rone being sent out with one of Fouche's despatches to the 
 duke of Wellington, I felt no apprehension, being duly armed 
 
AN ARREST MARSHAL DAVOUST. 503 
 
 with my savf conduit, and thought I would take that opportu- 
 nity of passing the Barriere de Roule, and strolling about un- 
 til Macirone's carriage should come up. It, however, by some 
 mischance, drove rapidly by me, and I was consequently left 
 in rather an awkward situation. 
 
 I did not remain long in suspense, being stopped by two 
 officers, who questioned me somewhat tartly as to my presump- 
 tion in passing the sentries, " who," said they, " must have 
 mistaken you for one of the commissaries' attendants." I pro- 
 duced my passport, which stood me in no further advantage 
 than to insure a very civil arrest. I Avas directly taken to the 
 quarters of Marshal Davoust, who was at the time breakfast- 
 ing on grapes and bread in a very good hotel by the side of 
 the canal. He showed at first a sort of austere indifference 
 that was extremely disagreeable to me ; but on my telling him 
 who I was, and everything relating to the transaction, the 
 manifestation of my candor struck him so forcibly, that he said 
 I was at liberty to walk about, but not to repass the lines till 
 the return of the parlementaires, and further inquiry made 
 about me. I was. not altogether at my ease : the prince was 
 now very polite, but I knew nobody, and was undoubtedly a 
 suspicious person. However, I was civilly treated by the offi- 
 cers who met me, and on the contrary received many half- 
 English curses from several soldiers, who, I suppose, had been 
 prisoners in England. I was extremely hungry, and much 
 fatigued, and kept on the bunk of the canal, as completely out 
 of the way of the military as I could. 
 
 I was at length thus accosted in my own language by an 
 elderly officer : — 
 
 " Sir," said he, " I think I have seen you in England." 
 
 " I have not the honor to recollect having met you, sir," re- 
 plied I. 
 
 " I shall not readily forget it," rejoined the French officer. 
 " Do you remember being, about two years since, in the town 
 of Odihamr 
 
 " Very well," said I. 
 
 "You recollect some French officers who were prisoners 
 there?" 
 
504 DETENTION AT YILETTE. 
 
 These words at once brought the circumstance to my mind, 
 and I answered, " I do now recollect seeing you, perfectly." 
 
 " Yes," said my interlocutor, " I was one of the three for- 
 eigners who were pelted with mud by the garcons in the streets 
 of Odiham ; and do you remember striking one of the garcons 
 who followed us, for their conduct ?" 
 
 " I do not forget it." 
 
 " Come with me, sir," pursued he, " and we'll talk it over in 
 another place." 
 
 The fact had been as he represented. A few French offi- 
 cers, prisoners at Odiham, were sometimes roughly treated by 
 the mob. Passing by chance one day with Lady Barrington 
 through the streets of that town, I saw a great number of boys 
 following, hooting, and hissing the French officers. I struck 
 two or three of these idle dogs with my cane, and rapped at 
 the constable's door, who immediately came out and put them 
 to flight — interfering, however, rather reluctantly on the part 
 
 of what he called the " d d French foreigners /" I expressed 
 
 and felt great indignation. The officers thanked me warmly, 
 and I believe were shortly after removed to Oswestry. 
 
 My friend told me that his two comrades at Odiham were 
 killed — the one at Waterloo, and the other by a wagon pas- 
 sing over him at Charleroi, on the 16th of June ; and that 
 scarcely an officer who had been prisoner at his first depot at 
 Oswestry had survived the last engagements. He gave me, in 
 his room at Vilette, wine, bread, and grapes, with dried sau- 
 sages well seasoned with garlic, and a glass of eau-de-vie. I 
 was highly pleased at this rencontre. My companion was a 
 most intelligent person, and communicative to the utmost ex- 
 tent of my curiosity. His narrative of many of the events of 
 the battles of the 16th and 18th ultimo was most interesting, 
 and carried with it every mark of candor. The minutes rolled 
 away speedily in his company, and seemed to me indeed far 
 too fleeting. He had not been wounded, though in the heat 
 of both engagements. He attributed the loss of the battle to 
 three causes : the wanton expenditure of the cavalry ; the 
 negligent uncovering of the right wing by Grouchy ; and the 
 impetuosity of Napoleon, in ordering the last attack by the 
 
THE FRENCH TROOPS AFTER THE BATTLE. 505 
 
 old guard, which he should have postponed till next day. 
 He said he had no doubt that the Belgian troops would all 
 have left the field before morning. He had been engaged on 
 the left, and did not see the Prussian attack, but said that it 
 had the effect of consolidating all the different corps of the 
 French army. 
 
 He told me that Napoleon was forced off the field by the 
 irresistible crowds which the advance of the English cavalry 
 had driven into disorder, while there was not a possibility of 
 rallying a single squadron of their own. His episodes re- 
 specting the occurrences of that day were most affecting, and 
 I believe true. 
 
 In this agreeable society my spirits mounted again, and I 
 soon acquired courage sufficient to express my great anxiety 
 to see the army, adding that I durst not go alone. My friend 
 immediately took me under his arm, and walked with me 
 through the whole lines, introducing me to several of his com- 
 rades, and acting throughout in the kindest and most gentle- 
 manly manner. This was precisely the opportunity I had so 
 long wished for of viewing the French troops, which were then 
 full of impetuosity and confidence, and eager for battle. Nei- 
 ther the Russians nor Austrians had reached Paris, and it was 
 supposed Davoust would anticipate the attack of the other 
 allies, who only waited for the junction of these powers and 
 their heavy artillery to recommence operations. The scene 
 was so new to me, so impressive, and so important, that it was 
 only on my return home my mind got steady enough to organ- 
 ize its ideas, and permit me to take coherent notes of what I 
 had witnessed. 
 
 The battle of "Waterloo was understood to have dispersed 
 so entirely the French army — that powerful and glorious dis- 
 play of heroes and of arms which a few days previously had 
 passed before my eyes — that scarcely ten men (except Grou- 
 chy's division) returned in one body to Paris ; and those who 
 did return were in such a state of wretchedness and depression, 
 that I took for granted the spirit of the French army had been 
 extinguished, — their battalions never to be rallied — their cour- 
 age thoroughly cooled ! I considered that the assembly at 
 
 22 
 
506 DETENTION AT VILETTE. 
 
 Vilette could not be numerous, and was more calculated to 
 make a show for better terms than to resist the conquerors. 
 How great, then, must have been my astonishment when the 
 evening parade turned out, as the officers informed me, above 
 sixty-five thousand infantry, which, with artillery and cavalry, 
 reached together near eighty thousand men ! I thought sev- 
 eral of the privates had drunk rather too much : but whether 
 sober or not, they seemed to be all in a state of wild, enthusi- 
 astic excitement — little removed from insubordination, but 
 directly tending to hostility and battle. Whole companies 
 cried aloud, as the superior officers passed by them : " Mon 
 general — a Vattaque ! — Vcnnemi ! Vcnnemi ! — allons ! allons /" 
 Others shouted : " Nous sommcs trains ! traliison ! traliison! — 
 a la bataille ! a la bataille /" Crowds of them, as if by instinct 
 or for pastime, would rush voluntarily together, and in a mo- 
 ment form a long column — then disperse and execute some 
 other manoeuvre ; while others, dispersed in groups, sang in 
 loud chorus sundry war-songs, wherein les Prusses and les 
 Anglais were the general theme. 
 
 I had no conception how it was possible that, in a few days 
 after such a total dispersion of the French army, another 
 could be so rapidly collected, and which, though somewhat 
 less numerous, the officer told me evinced double the enthusi- 
 asm of those who had formed the defeated corps. They had 
 now it is true the stimulus of that defeat to urge them desper- 
 ately on to retrieve that military glory which had been so 
 awfully obscured ; their artillery was most abundant ; and we 
 must never forget that the French soldier is always better in- 
 formed, and possessed of more morale than our own. In truth, 
 I really do believe there was scarcely a man in that army at 
 Vilette who would willingly have quitted the field of battle 
 alive, unless victorious. 
 
 Though their tumultuous excitement certainly at this time 
 bore the appearance of insubordination, my conductor assured 
 me, I was mistaken in forming such a judgment ; he admitted 
 that they durst not check that exuberant zeal on the instant ; 
 but added, that when the period arrived to form them for bat- 
 tlei not a voice could be heard, not a limb move, till the attack 
 
THE OLD GUARD. 507 
 
 commenced, except by order of their leaders ; and that if the 
 traitors in Paris suffered them once more to try their fortune, 
 he did not think there was an individual in that army who 
 entertained a doubt of the result. 
 
 In the production of this confidence, party spirit doubtless 
 was mixed up : but no impartial observer could deny, that if 
 the troops at Vilette had been heartily joined by forty thou- 
 sand of the national guards and country volunteers then with- 
 in the walls of Paris, the consequence would have been ex- 
 tremely problematical. 
 
 The day passed on, and I still strolled about with my polite 
 conductor, whom I begged to remain with me. He was not 
 an officer of high rank : I believe a captain of the 81st in- 
 fantry — tall, very thin, gentlemanly, and had seen long ser- 
 vice. 
 
 From this crowd of infuriated soldiers, he led me farther to 
 the left, whither a part of the old guard, who had been I be- 
 lieve quartered at Mont-martre, had for some cause or other 
 been that evening removed. I had, as the reader will per- 
 haps recollect, a previous opportunity of admiring that unri- 
 valled body of veteran warriors ; and their appearance this 
 evening interested me beyond measure. Every man looked 
 like an Ajax, exhibiting a firmness of step and of gesture at 
 once formidable and even graceful. At the same time, I 
 fancied that there was a cast of melancholy over their bronzed 
 countenances. When I compare what I that day witnessed 
 to the boyish, ordinary -looking corps now generally composing 
 the guardians of that once military nation, I can scarcely 
 avoid sighing while I exclaim tempora mutantur ! 
 
 I grew, however, at length impatient ; evening was closing, 
 and, if detained, I must I suppose have bivouacked. To be 
 sure, the weather was so fine that it would have been of no 
 great consequence : still my situation was disagreeable, and 
 the more so, as my family, being quite ignorant of it, must 
 necessarily feel uneasy. " I was therefore becoming silent and 
 abstracted (and my friend had no kind of interest to get me 
 released), when two carriages appeared driving toward the 
 barrier where we stood. A shot was fired by the advanced 
 
508 PROJECTED ESCAPE OF IS T APOLEOX. 
 
 sentry at one of them, which immediately stopped. A party 
 was sent out, and the carriage entered ; there were two gen- 
 tlemen in it, one of whom had received the ball, I believe in 
 his shoulder. A surgeon instantly attended, and they pro- 
 ceeded within the lines. They proved to be two of the parle- 
 ment aires who had gone out with despatches. The wound was 
 not mortal ; and its infliction arose from a mistaken construc- 
 tion, on the part of the sentinel, of his orders. 
 
 The other carriage (in which was Colonel Macirone) drove 
 on without stopping at the headquarters of Davoust. My 
 kind companion said he would now go and try to get me dis- 
 missed : he did so, and procured an order for my departure, 
 on signing my name, address, and occupation, and the name 
 of some person who knew me in Paris. I mentioned Mr. 
 Phillips, of Lafitte's, and was then suffered to depart. It will 
 be imagined that I was not dilatory in walking home, where, 
 of course, I was received as a lost sheep — no member of my 
 family having the slightest idea whither I had gone. 
 
 The officer, as he accompanied me to the barrier, described 
 tome the interview between the pa rlc??ic?it aires and Davoust. 
 They had, it seems, made progress in the negotiation, very 
 much against the marshal's inclinations. He was confident 
 of victory, and expressed himself, with great warmth, in the 
 following emphatic words : " Begone ! and tell your employer, 
 Fouche, that the prince of Eckmuhl will defend Paris till its 
 flames set this handkerchief on fire !" waving one as he spoke. 
 
 PROJECTED ESCAPE OF NAPOLEON. 
 
 Attack on the Bridge of Charenton by the Russians — Foucbe's Arrangements for the De- 
 fence of Paris — Bonaparte's Retirement to Malmaison — His Want of Moral Courage — 
 Comparison between Napoleon and Frederick the Great — Extraordinary Resolution of 
 the Ex-Emperor to repair to London — Preparations for his Undertaking the Journey as 
 Secretary to Dr. Marshall — The Scheme abandoned from Dread of Treachery on the 
 road to the Coast — Termination of the Author's Intercourse with Dr. Marshall and the 
 Cause thereof — Remuneration of Col. Macirone by the Arch-Traitor, Fouche". 
 
 It was the received opinion that the allies would form a 
 blockade rather than venture an assault on Paris. The nu- 
 merical strength and morale of the French army at Vilette the 
 
fouche's arrangements. 509 
 
 reader had already seen. The English army was within view 
 of, and occupied St. Denis ; the Prussians were on the side of 
 Sevres ; and the Russians were expected in the direction of 
 Charenton, along the Marne. That Paris might have been 
 taken by storm is possible ; but if the French army had been 
 augmented by one half of the national guard, the effort would 
 surely have been most sanguinary, and the result most doubt- 
 ful. Had the streets been intersected, mines sunk, the bridges 
 broken down, and the populace armed as well as circumstances 
 would permit (the heights being at the same time duly defend 
 ed), though I am not a military man, and therefore very liable 
 to error on such a subject, I have little doubt, instead of mere 
 negotiation, it would have cost the allies more than one half 
 of their forces before they had arrived in the centre of the 
 French metropolis. The defence of Saragossa by Palafox 
 (though but a chieftain of guerilla) proved the possibility of 
 defending an open town against a valorous enemy. 
 
 I was breakfasting in Dr. Marshall's garden when we heard 
 a heavy firing commence : it proceeded from Charenton, about 
 three miles from Paris, where the Russian advanced guard had 
 attacked the bridge, which had not been broken up, although 
 it was one of the leading avenues to the castle of Vincennes. 
 Fouche indeed had contrived to weaken this post effectu- 
 ally, so that the defence there could not be long protracted ; 
 and he had also ordered ten thousand stand of arms to be taken 
 secretly out of Paris and lodged in the castle of Vincennes, to 
 prevent the Parisians from arming. 
 
 The discharges continuing in occasional volleys, like a sort 
 of running fire, I was most anxious to go to some spot which 
 would command that part of the country ; but the doctor dis- 
 suaded me, saying it could not be a severe or lengthened strug- 
 gle, as Fouche had taken care of that matter. I led him grad- 
 ually into conversation on the business, and he made known 
 to me though equivocally, much mjore than I had ever suspected. 
 Every despatch, every negotiation, every step which it was 
 supposed by such among the French as had their country's 
 honor and character at heart, might operate to prevent the 
 allies from approaching Paris after the second abdication, had 
 
510 PROJECTED ESCAPE OF NAPOLEON 
 
 been either accompanied by counter applications, or defeated 
 by secret instructions from Fouche. 
 
 While mock negotiations were thus carrying on at a dis- 
 tance, and before the English army had reached St. Denis, 
 Bonaparte was already at Malmaison. It had become quite 
 clear that he was a lost man ; and this most celebrated of all 
 soldiers on record, proved by his conduct, at that crisis, the 
 distinction between animal and mental courage ; the first is an 
 instinctive quality, enjoyed by us in common with many of 
 the brute creation ; the latter is the attribute of man alone. 
 The first, Napoleon eminently possessed ; in the latter he was 
 certainly defective. Frederick the Great, in mental courage 
 was altogether superior to Napoleon. He could fight and fly, 
 and rally, and fight again ; his spirit never gave in ; his perse- 
 verance never flagged : he seemed, in fact, insusceptible of 
 despondency, and was even greater in defeat than in victory : 
 he never quitted his army while a troop could be rallied ; and 
 the seven years' war proved that the king of Prussia was 
 equally illustrious, whether fugitive or conqueror. 
 
 Napoleon reversed those qualities. No warrior that history 
 records ever was so great • while successful : his victories were 
 followed up with the rapidity of lightning ; in overwhelming an 
 army, he in fact often subdued a kingdom, and profited more 
 by each triumph than any general that had preceded him. 
 But he could not stand up under defeat ! 
 
 The several plans for Napoleon's escape, I heard as they 
 were successively formed : such of them as had an appearance 
 of plausibility, Fouche found means to counteract. It* would 
 not be amusing to relate the various devices which were sug- 
 gested for this purpose. Napoleon was meanwhile almost pas- 
 sive and wrapped in apathy. He clung to existence with even 
 a mean tenacity ; and it is difficult to imagine but that his in- 
 tellect must have suffered before he was led to endure a life 
 of ignominious exile. 
 
 At Dr. Marshall's hotel one morning, I remarked his travel- 
 ling carriage as if put in preparation for a journey, having 
 candles in the lamps, &c. A smith had been examining it, 
 and the servants were all in motion. I suspected some move- 
 
DETAILS DISCLOSED BY DR. MARSHALL. 511 
 
 ment of consequence, but could not surmise what. The doctor 
 did not appear to think that I had observed these preparations. 
 
 On a sudden, while walking in the garden, I turned short 
 on him. 
 
 " Doctor," said I, at a venture, " you are going on an impor- 
 tant journey to-night." 
 
 " How do you know ?" said he, thrown off his guard by the 
 abruptness of my remark. 
 
 " Well !" continued I, smiling, " I wish you well out of it /" 
 
 " Out of what V exclaimed he, recovering his self-possession 
 and sounding me in his turn. 
 
 " Oh, no matter, no matter," said I, with a significant nod, 
 as if I was already acquainted with his proceedings. 
 
 This bait took in some degree ; and after a good deal of 
 fencing (knowing that he could fully depend on my secrecy), 
 the doctor led me into his study, where he said he would com- 
 municate to a me very interesting and important matter. He 
 then unlocked his desk, and produced an especial passport for 
 himself and his secretary to Havre de Grace, thence to embark 
 for England ; and he showed me a very large and also a smal- 
 ler bag of gold, which he was about to take with him. 
 
 He proceeded to inform me, that it was determined Napo- 
 leon should go to England; that he had himself agreed to it; 
 and that he was to travel in Dr. Marshall's carriage, as his 
 secretary, under the above-mentioned passport. It was ar- 
 ranged that, at twelve o'clock that night, the emperor with 
 the queen of Holland were to be at Marshall's house, and to 
 set off thence immediately ; that on arriving in England he 
 was forthwith to repair to London, preceded by a letter to the 
 prince regent, stating that he threw himself on the protection 
 and generosity of the British nation and required permission 
 to reside therein as a private individual. 
 
 The thing seemed to me too romantic to be serious ; and the 
 doctor could not avoid perceiving my incredulity. He how- 
 ever enjoined me to secresy, which by-the-by was unneces- 
 sary ; I mentioned the circumstance, and should have men- 
 tioned it, only to one member of my family, whom I knew to 
 be as cautious as myself. But I determined to ascertain the 
 
512 PROJECTED ESCAPE OF NAPOLEON. 
 
 fact ; and before twelve o'clock at night repaired to the Rue 
 Pigale, and stood up underneath a door somewhat farther on 
 the opposite side of the street to Dr. Marshall's house. 
 
 A strong light shone through the curtains of the first floor 
 windows, and lights were also moving about in the upper story. 
 The court meantime was quite dark, and the indications alto- 
 gether bespoke that something extraordinary was going for- 
 ward in the house. Every moment I expected to see Napo- 
 leon come to the gate. He came not ; but about half after 
 twelve, an elderly officer buttoned up in a blue surtout rode up 
 to the 2>orte-coc7iere, which, on his ringing, was instantly opened. 
 He went in, and after remaining about twenty minutes, came 
 out on horseback as before, and went down the street. I 
 thought he might have been a precursor, and still kept my 
 ground until, some time after, the light in the first floor was ex- 
 tinguished ; and thence inferring what subsequently proved to 
 be the real state of the case, I returned homeward disappointed. 
 
 Next day Dr Marshall told me that Napoleon had been dis- 
 suaded from venturing to Havre de Grace — he believed by 
 the queen of Holland. Some idea had occurred to either him 
 or her that he might not be fairly dealt with on the road. I 
 own the same suspicion had struck me when I first heard of 
 the plot, though I was far from implicating the doctor in any 
 proceeding of a decidedly treacherous nature. The incident 
 was, however, in all its bearings, an extraordinary one. 
 
 My intimacy with Dr. Marshall at length ceased, and in a 
 manner very disagreeable. I liked the man, and I do not 
 wish to hurt his feelings ; but certain mysterious imputations 
 thrown out by his lady terminated our connection. 
 
 A person with whom I was extremely intimate happened to 
 be in my drawing-room one day when Mrs. Marshall called. 
 I observed nothing of a particular character, except that Mrs. 
 Marshall went suddenly away ; and as I handed her into her 
 carriage, she said : " You promised to dine with us to-morrow, 
 and I requested you to bring any friend you liked ; but do not 
 let it be that fellow I have just seen — I have taken a great 
 dislike to his countenance !" No further observation was made, 
 and the lady departed. 
 
A FEMALE RUSE COL. MACIRONE AND FOTJCHE. 513 
 
 On the next morning I received a note from Mrs. Marshall, 
 stating- that she had reason to know some malicious person had 
 represented me as being acquainted with certain affairs very 
 material for the government to understand — and as having 
 papers in my possession which might be required from me by 
 the minister Fouche ; advising me therefore to leave town for 
 a while, sooner than be troubled respecting business so disa- 
 greeable ; adding that, in the meantime, Colonel Macirone 
 would endeavor to find out the facts, and apprize me of them. 
 
 I never was more surprised in my life than at the receipt of 
 this letter. I had never meddled at all in French politics, 
 save to hear and see all I could, and say nothing. I neither 
 held nor had held any political paper whatever ; and I there- 
 fore immediately went to Sir Charles Stuart, our embassador, 
 made my complaints, and requested his excellency's personal 
 interference. To my surprise, Sir Charles in reply asked me 
 how I could chance to know such a person as Macirone. I did 
 not feel pleased at this, and answered somewhat tartly : " Be- 
 cause both the English and French governments, and his ex- 
 cellency to boot, had not only intercourse with, but had em- 
 ployed Macirone in both Italy and Paris ; and that I knew 
 him to be at that moment in communication with persons of 
 the highest respectability in both countries." 
 
 Sir Charles then wrote a note to Fouche, informing him who 
 I was, &c, &c, and I finally discovered it was all a scheme 
 of Mrs. Marshall for a purpose of her own. This led me to 
 other investigations ; and the result was, that further commu- 
 nication with Dr. Marshall on my part became impossible. I 
 certainly regretted the circumstance, for he was a gentlemanly 
 and intelligent man. 
 
 Colonel Macirone himself was soon taught by Fouche what 
 it is to be the tool of a traitor. Although the colonel might 
 have owed no allegiance to Napoleon, he owed respect to him- 
 self; and having forfeited this to a certain degree, he had the 
 mortification to find that the only remuneration which the 
 arch-apostate was disposed to concede him was, public disgrace 
 and a dungeon. 
 
 22* 
 
514 BATTLE OF SEVRES AND ISSY. 
 
 BATTLE OF SEVRES AND ISSY. 
 
 Afternoon Ramble on the Boulevard Italien — Interrupted by the Report of Artillery — Sang- 
 froid of the Fair Sex — Female Soldiers — The Author repairs to a Point commanding the 
 Field of Battle — Site of the Projected Palace of the King of Rome — Rapidity of the Move- 
 ments of the French as contrasted with those of the Prussian's — Blowing up of the Bridge 
 of St. Cloud — Visit of the Author to the Encampment in the Champ de Mars — The 
 Wounded Soldier. 
 
 My anxiety to witness a battle, without being necessarily a 
 party in it, did not long remain ungratified. While walking 
 one afternoon on the Boulevard Italien, a very heavy firing of 
 musketry and cannon burst upon my ear. It proceeded from 
 up the course of the Seine, in the direction of Sevres. I knew 
 at once that a military engagement was going forward, and 
 my heart bounded at the thought : the sounds appeared to me 
 of all others the most sublime and tremendous. One moment 
 there was a rattling of musketry, which appeared nearer or 
 more distant according to the strength of the gale which wafted 
 its volleys ; another, the heavy echo of ordnance rolled through 
 the groves and valley of Sevres, and the village of Issy ; again, 
 these seemed superseded by a separate firing, as of small bod- 
 ies of skirmishers : and the whole was mingled with the shouts 
 and hurrahs of the assailants and assailed. Altogether, my 
 nerves experienced a sensation different from any that had 
 preceded it, and alike distinguished from both bravery and 
 fear. 
 
 As yet the battle had only reached me by one sense — al- 
 though imagination, it is true, supplied the place of all : though 
 my eyes viewed not the field of action, yet the sanguinary 
 conflict moved before my fancy in most vivid coloring. 
 
 I was in company with Mr. Lewines, when the first firing 
 roused our attention. " A treble line" of ladies was seated in 
 front of Tortoni's, under the lofty arbors of the Boulevard Ital- 
 ien, enjoying their ices and an early soiree, and attended by a 
 host of unmilitary cliers-amis, who, together, with mendicant 
 songsters and musicians, were dispersed along that line of fe- 
 male attraction which " occupied" one side of the entire boule- 
 
FEMININE SANG-FROID FEMALE SOLDIERS. 515 
 
 vard, and with scarcely any interruption " stretched away" to 
 the Porte St. Martin. Strange to say, scarcely a movement 
 was excited among the fair part of the society by the report 
 of the ordnance and musketry ; not one beauty rose from her 
 chair, or checked the passage of the refreshing ice to her pout- 
 ing lips. I could not choose but be astonished at this apathy, 
 which was only disturbed by the thunder of a tremendous 
 salvo of artillery, announcing that the affair was becoming 
 more general. _ 
 
 "All! sacre Dieu ! ma clierc !" said one lovely creature to 
 another, as they sat at the entrance of Tortoni's ; " sacre Dieu / 
 qu'est-ce que ce sup$rbe coup-la V — " C'est le canon, ma cliere /" 
 replied her friend ; " la bataille est a la pointe de commencer" — 
 "Ah! oui, oui! c'est bicn magnijiqiie ! ecoutez ! ecoutez /" — 
 "J/*," returned the other, tasting with curious deliberation her 
 lemon-ice ; " cette glace est trcs exccllente !" 
 
 Meanwhile, the roar continued. I could stand it no longer; 
 I was stung with curiosity, and determined to see the battle. 
 Being at a very little distance from our hotel, I recommended 
 Lady Barrington and my family to retire thither (which advice 
 they did not take), and I immediately set off to seek a good 
 position in the neighborhood of the fight, which I imagined 
 could not be far distant, as the sounds seemed every moment 
 to increase in strength. I now perceived a great many gen- 
 darmes, singly and in profound silence, strolling about the 
 boulevard, and remarking (though without seeming to notice) 
 everything and everybody. 
 
 I had no mode of accounting for the fortitude and indiffer- 
 ence of so many females, but by supposing that a great pro- 
 portion of them might have been themselves campaigning with 
 their husbands or their cliers-amis — a circumstance that, I was 
 told, had been by no means uncommon during the wars of the 
 Revolution and of Napoleon. 
 
 One lady told me herself that she did not dress for ten years 
 in the attire of a female. Her husband had acted, I believe, 
 as commissary-general. They are both living and well, to the 
 best of my knowledge, at this moment, at Boulogne-sur-Mer, 
 and the lady is particularly clever and intelligent. "Noth- 
 
516 BATTLE OF SEVKES AND ISSY. 
 
 ing," said she to me one day, " nothing, sir, can longer appear 
 strange to me. I really think I have witnessed an example 
 of everything in human nature, good or evil !" — and, from the 
 various character of the scenes through which she had passed, 
 I believe her. 
 
 A Jew physician living in the Rue Richelieu (a friend of 
 Baron Rothschild), who had a tolerable telescope, had lent it 
 to me. I first endeavored to gain admission into the pillar, in 
 the Place Vendome, but was refused. I saw that the roof of 
 Notre Dame was already crowded, and knew not where to go. 
 I durst not pass a barrier, and I never felt the tortures of curi- 
 osity so strongly upon me. At length I got a cabriolet, and 
 desired the man to drive me to any point whence I might see 
 the conflict. He accordingly took me to the farther end of the 
 Rue de Bataille, at Chailloit, in -the vicinity whereof was the 
 site marked out for the palace of the king of Rome. Here 
 was a green plat, with a few trees ; and under one of those I 
 sat down upon the grass and overlooked distinctly the entire 
 left of the engagement, and the sanguinary combat which was 
 fought on the slopes, lawn, and about the house and courts, of 
 Bellevue. 
 
 Whoever has seen the site of that intended palace must rec- 
 ollect that the view it commands is one of the finest imagina- 
 ble. It had been the hanging gardens of a monastery ; the 
 Seine flows at the foot of the slope, and thence the eye wan- 
 ders to the hill of Bellevue, and onward to St. Cloud. The 
 village of Issy, which commences at the foot of Bellevue, 
 stretches itself thinly up the banks of the Seine toward Paris 
 — nearly to one of the suburbs — leaving just a verdant border 
 of meadow and garden-ground to edge the waters. Extensive, 
 undulating hills rise up behind the Hotel de Bellevue, and 
 from them the first attack had been made upon the Prus- 
 sians. In front, the Pont de Jena opens the entrance to the 
 Champ de Mars, terminated by the magnificent gilt dome of 
 the Hotel des Invalides, with the city of Paris stretching to 
 the left. 
 
 It was a tranquil evening : the sun, in all his glory, piercing 
 through the smoke which mounted from the field of battle, and 
 
RAPID MOVEMENTS OF FRENCH TROOPS. 517 
 
 illuminating its sombre flakes, likened it to a rich-gilded can- 
 opy moving over the combatants. 
 
 The natural ardor of my mind was peculiarly stimulated on 
 this occasion. Never having witnessed before any scene of a 
 corresponding nature, I could not (and indeed sought not to) 
 repress a sensation of awe : I felt my breathing short or pro- 
 tracted as the character of the scene varied. An old soldier 
 would no doubt have laughed at the excess of my emotion — 
 particularly as the affair, although sharp, was not of a very 
 extensive nature. One observation was forcibly impressed on 
 me — namely, that both the firing and manoeuvring of the 
 French were a great deal more rapid than those of the Prus- 
 sians. When a change of position was made, the Prussians 
 marched — the French ran. Then* advance was quicker, their 
 retreat less regular, but their rallying seemed to me most ex- 
 traordinary : dispersed detachments of the French reassociated 
 with the rapidity of lightning, and advanced again as if they 
 had never separated. 
 
 The combat within the palace of Bellevue and the courts 
 were, of course, concealed : but if I might judge from the con- 
 stant firing within, the sudden rushes from the house, the 
 storming at the entrance, and the battles on the lawn, there 
 must have been great carnage. In my simplicity, in fact, I 
 only wondered how anybody could escape. 
 
 The battle now extended to the village of Issy, which was 
 taken and retaken many times. Neither party could keep pos- 
 session of it — scouting in and out as fortune wavered. At 
 length, probably from the actual exhaustion of the men, the 
 fire of musketry slackened, but the cannon still rolled at inter- 
 vals around Sevres • and a Prussian shell fell into the cele- 
 brated manufactory of that place, while several cannon-shot 
 penetrated the handsome hotel which stands on an eminence 
 above Sevres, and killed fourteen or fifteen Prussian officers, 
 who were in a group taking refreshment.* 
 
 * I visited the spot a few days subsequently, and found that noble hall, 
 which had been totally lined by the finest mirrors, without one remaining. 
 I never saw such useless and wanton devastation as had been committed 
 by the Prussians ! 
 
518 BATTLE OF SEYEE8 AND I8SY. 
 
 I now began to feel weary of gazing on the boisterous mo- 
 notony of the fight, which, so far as any advantage appeared 
 to be gained on either side, might be interminable. A man 
 actually engaged in battle can see but little, and think less ; 
 but a secure and contemplative spectator has opened to him 
 a field of inexhaustible reflection : and my faculties were fast 
 becoming abstracted from the scene of strife, when a loud and 
 uncommon noise announced some singular event, and once 
 more excited me. We could not perceive whence it came, but 
 guessed, and truly, that it proceeded from the demolition of 
 the bridge of St. Cloud, which the French had blown up. A 
 considerable number of French troops now appeared withdraw- 
 ing from the battle, and passing to our side of the river on 
 rafts, just under our feet. We could not tell the cause of this 
 movement, but it was reported by a man who came into the 
 field that the English army at St. Denis was seen in motion, 
 and that some attack on our side of the city itself might be 
 expected. I scarcely believed this, yet the retreat of a part 
 of the French troops tended not to discourage the idea ; and 
 as the national guards were heard beating^to arms in all direc- 
 tions of the city, I thought it most advisable to return, which 
 I immediately did, before the firing had ceased, in the same 
 cabriolet. 
 
 On my return, judge of my astonishment at finding the very 
 same assemblage in the very same place on the boulevard as 
 when I left it ; nor did a single being, except my own family, 
 express the slightest curiosity upon hearing whence I had 
 come ! 
 
 The English army, as it turned out, did not move. The 
 firing, after a while, totally ceased ; and the French cavalry 
 (which I did not see engaged), with some infantry, marched 
 into the Champ de Mars, to take up their night's position. 
 
 Having thus been gratified by the view of what to my unac- 
 customed eyes seemed a great battle, and would, I suppose, by 
 military men be termed nothing more than a long skirmish, I 
 met .Sir Francis Gold, who proposed that we should walk to 
 the Champ de Mars, "just," said he, "to see what the fellows 
 are doing after the battle." 
 
VISIT TO THE FRENCH ENCAMPMENT. 519 
 
 To this I peremptorily objected, for reasons which must be 
 obvious, and which seemed to prohibit any Englishman in his 
 sober senses from going into such company at such a moment. 
 
 " Never mind," continued Sir Francis, " I love my skin ev- 
 ery bit as well as you do yours ; and depend upon it we shall 
 not meet the slightest molestation. If we go with a lady in 
 our company, be assured we may walk about and remain in 
 the place as long as we please. I can speak from experience." 
 
 " Ah, true, true ! but where is the lady V said I. 
 
 " I will introduce you to a very charming one of my ac- 
 quaintance," answered Sir Francis, " and I'll request her to do 
 us the favor of accompanying us." I now half-reluctantly 
 agreed ; curiosity prevailed, as usual, and away we went to the 
 lodgings of Sir Francis's fair friend. 
 
 The lady certainly did not dishonor the epithet Sir Francis 
 had bestowed on her : she was a young, animated French girl, 
 rather pretty, and well dressed — one of those lively creatures 
 who, you would say, always have their " wits about them." My 
 friend explained the request he had come to prefer, and begged 
 her to make her toilet with all convenient expedition. The lady 
 certainly did not dissent, but her acquiescence was followed 
 by a hearty and seemingly uncontrollable burst of laughter. 
 " Excuse me, gentlemen," exclaimed she, " but really I can 
 not help laughing. I will, with pleasure, walk with you ; but 
 the idea of my playing the escort to two gallant English cheva- 
 liers, .both d'dge mur, is too ridiculous. However, n'imporle ! 
 I will endeavor to defend you, though against a whole army !" 
 
 The thing unquestionably did look absurd, and I could not 
 restrain myself from joining in the laugh. Sir Francis too be- 
 came infected, and we made a regular chorus of it, after which 
 the gay Frenchwoman resumed : — 
 
 " But surely, Sir Francis, you pay the French a great com- 
 pliment ; for you have often told me how you alone used to 
 put to flight whole troops of rebels in your own country, and 
 take entire companies with your single hand !" 
 
 Champagne was now introduced, and Sir Francis and I hav- 
 ing each taken a glass or two, at the lady's suggestion, to keep 
 up our courage, we sallied out in search of adventures to the 
 
520 BATTLE OF SEVRES AND ISSY. 
 
 Champ cle Mars. The sentinel at the entrance demurred a 
 little on our presenting ourselves ; but our fair companion, with 
 admirable presence of mind, put it to his gallantry not to re- 
 fuse admittance to a lady ; and the polite soldier, with very 
 good grace, permitted us to pass. Once fairly inside, we 
 strolled about for above two hours, not only unmolested, but 
 absolutely unnoticed — although I can not say I felt perfectly 
 at ease. It is certain that the presence of the female protected 
 us. The respect paid to women by the French soldiery is 
 apparent at all their meetings, whether for conviviality or 
 service ; and I have seen as much decorum preserved in an 
 alehouse festivity at Paris as at the far-famed Almack's in 
 London. 
 
 The scene within the barrier must have appeared curious to 
 any Englishman. The troops had been about an hour on the 
 ground after fighting all the evening in the village of Issy : the 
 cavalry had not engaged, and their horses were picketed. 
 The soldiers had got in all directions tubs of water, and were 
 washing their hands and faces which had been covered with 
 dirt — their mouths being quite blackened by the cartridges. 
 In a little time everything was arranged for a merry-making : 
 some took off their coats, to dance the lighter; the bands 
 played ; an immense number of women, of all descriptions, had 
 come to welcome them back ; and in half an hour after we 
 arrived there, some hundred couples were at the quadrilles and 
 waltzes, as if nothing had occurred to disturb their tranquillity. 
 It appeared, in fact, as if they had not only totally forgotten 
 what had passed that day, but cared not a sous as to what 
 might happen the next. 
 
 Old women, with frying-pans strapped before them, were 
 incessantly frying sliced-potatoes, livers, and bacon : we tasted 
 some of these dainties, and found them really quite savory. 
 Some soldiers, who were tired or perhaps slightly hurt, were 
 sitting in the fosses cooking soup, and, together with the ven- 
 ders of bottled beer, &c, stationed on the elevated banks, 
 gave the whole a picturesque appearance. I saw a very few 
 men who had rags tied round their heads ; some who limped a 
 little ; and others who had their hands in slings : but nobody 
 
THE WOUNDED VETERAN. 521 
 
 seemed to regard these, or indeed anything except their own 
 pleasure. The wounded had been carried to hospitals, and I 
 suppose the dead were left on the ground for the night. The 
 guards mounted at the Champ de Mars were all fresh troops. 
 
 There were few circumstances attending that memorable era 
 which struck me more forcibly than the miserable condition of 
 those groups of fugitives who continued every hour arriving in 
 Paris during the few days immediately succeeding their signal 
 discomfiture at Waterloo. These unfortunate stragglers ar- 
 rived in parties of two, three, or four, and in a state of utter 
 destitution — most of them without arms, many without shoes, 
 and some almost naked. A great proportion of them were 
 wounded and bandaged : they had scarcely rested at all on 
 their return ; in short, I never beheld such pitiable figures. 
 
 One of these unfortunate men struck me forcibly one evening 
 as an object of interest and compassion. He was limping 
 along the Boulevard Italien : his destination I knew not ; he 
 looked elderly, but had evidently been one of the finest men I 
 ever saw, and attached, I rather think, to the imperial guard. 
 His shoes were worn out ; his clothes in rags ; scanty hairs 
 were the only covering of his head ; one arm was bandaged 
 up with a bloody rag, and slung from his neck by a string; 
 his right thigh and leg were also bandaged, and he seemed to 
 move with pain and difficulty. 
 
 Such figures were, it is true, so common during that period, 
 that nobody paid them much attention : this man, however, 
 somehow or other, interested me peculiarly. It was said, that 
 he was going to the Hotel Dieu, where he would be taken 
 good care of: but I felt greatly for the old warrior; and 
 crossing the street, put, without saying a word, a dollar into 
 his yellow and trembling hand. 
 
 He stopped, looked at me attentively then at the dollar ; and 
 appearing doubtful whether or no he ought to receive it, said, 
 with an emphatic tone, " Not for cliarity /" 
 
 I saw his pride was kindled, and replied, " No, my friend, 
 in respect to your bravery !" and I was walking away, when I 
 heard his voice exclaiming, " Monsieur, monsieur !" I turned, 
 and as he hobbled up to me, he surveyed me in silence from head 
 
522 CAPITULATION OF PAEIS. 
 
 to foot ; then, looking earnestly in my face, lie held out his 
 hand with the dollar : " Excuse me, monsieur," said he, in a 
 firm and rather proud tone — "you are an Englishman, and I 
 can not receive hounty from the enemy of my emperor." 
 
 Good God ! thought I, what a man must Napoleon have 
 heen ! This incident alone affords a key to all his victories. 
 
 CAPITULATION OF PARIS. 
 
 Retirement of the Arm}' of Vilerte behind the Loire. — Occupation of the French Capital by 
 the Allies — Thoughts on the Disposition of the Bourbon Government toward Great Britain 
 — Conduct of the Allies after their Possession of Paris — Infringements of the Treaty — 
 Removal of the Works of Art from the Louvre — Reflections on the Injurious Results of 
 that Measure to the British Student — Liberal Motive operating on the English Adminis- 
 tration of that Period — Little Interludes got up between the French King and the Allies 
 — Louis XVIII. 's Magnanimous Letters— -Threatened Destruction of the Pont ale Jena by 
 Marshal Blucher — Heroic Resolution of His Most Christian Majesty to perish in the Ex- 
 plosion. 
 
 The rapid succession of these extraordinary events bore to 
 me the character of some optical delusion, and my mind was 
 settling into a train of reflections on the past and conjectures 
 as to the future, when Fouche capitulated for Paris, and gave 
 up France to the discretion of its enemies. In a few hours 
 after, I saw that enthusiastic, nay, that half-frantic army of 
 Vilette (in the midst of which I had an opportunity of wit- 
 nessing a devotion to its chief which no defeat could diminish) 
 on the point of total annihilation. I saw the troops, sad and 
 crest-fallen, marching out of Paris to consummate, behind the 
 Loire, the fall of France as a warlike kingdom. With arms 
 still in their hands, with a great park of artillery, and com- 
 manded by able generals, yet were they constrained to turn 
 their backs on their metropolis, abandoning it to the " tender 
 mercies" of the Russian Cossacks, whom they had so often 
 conquered. 
 
 I saw, likewise, that most accomplished of traitors, Fouche, 
 duke of Otranto (who had with impunity betrayed his patron 
 and his master), betraying in their turn, his own tools and in- 
 struments — signing lists of proscription for the death or exile 
 
SUBSEQUENT CONDUCT OF THE ALLIES. 523 
 
 of those whose ill-fortune or worse principle had rendered 
 them his dupes ; and thus confirming, in my mind, the skep- 
 ticism as to men and measures which had long been growing 
 on me. 
 
 The only political point I fancy at present that I can see 
 any certainty in, is, that the French nation is not mad enough 
 to hazard lightly a fresh war with England. The highest- 
 flown ultras — even the Jesuits themselves — can not forget 
 that to the inexhaustible perseverance of the United Kingdom 
 is mainly attributable the present political condition of Europe. 
 The people of France may not, it is true, owe us much grati- 
 tude ; but, considering that we transmitted both his present 
 and his late majesty safely from exile here to their exalted 
 station among the potentates of Europe, I do hope, for the 
 honor of our common nature, that the government of that 
 country would not willingly turn the weapons which we put 
 into their hands against ourselves. If they should, however, 
 it is not too much* to add, bearing in mind what we have 
 successfully coped with, that their hostility would be as inef- 
 fectual as ungrateful. And here, I can not abstain from 
 briefly congratulating my fellow-countrymen on the manly and 
 encouraging exposition of our national power recently put forth 
 by Mr. Canning in the house of commons. Let them rest 
 assured, that it has been felt by every cabinet in Europe — 
 even to its core. The holy alliance has dwindled into com- 
 parative insignificance ; and Great Britain, under an energetic 
 and liberal-minded administration, reassumes that influence to 
 which she is justly entitled, as one in the first order of Euro- 
 pean empires. 
 
 To return : — The conduct of the allies after their occupation 
 of Paris was undoubtedly strange, to say the least of it ; and 
 nothing could be more inconsistent than that of the populace 
 on the return of King Louis. That Paris was betrayed is cer- 
 tain ; and that the article of capitulation which provided that 
 " wherever doubts existed, the construction should be in favor 
 of the Parisians," was not adhered to, is equally so. It was 
 never in contemplation, for instance, that the capital was to be 
 rifled of all the monuments of art and antiquity, whereof she 
 
524 CAPITULATION OF PARIS. 
 
 had become possessed by right of conquest. A reclamation of 
 the great mortar in St. James' Park, or of the throne of the 
 king of Ceylon, would have just as much appearance of fair- 
 ness as that of Apollo by the pope, and Venus by the grand- 
 duke of Tuscany. What preposterous affectation of justice 
 was there in employing British engineers to take down the 
 brazen horses of Alexander the Great, in order that they may 
 be re-erected in St. Mark's Place at Venice — a city to which 
 the Austrian emperor has no more equitable a claim than we 
 have to Vienna ! I always was, and still remain to be, de- 
 cidedly of opinion that, by giving our aid in emptying the 
 Louvre, we authorized not only an act of unfairness to the 
 French, but of impolicy as concerned ourselves ; since by so 
 doing, we have removed beyond the reach of the great majority 
 of British artists and students the finest models of sculpture 
 and of painting this world has produced. 
 
 When this step was first determined on, the Prussians began 
 with moderation : they rather smuggled away than openly 
 stole, fourteen paintings ; but no sooner was this rifling purpose 
 generally made known, than his holiness, the pope, was all 
 anxiety to have his gods again locked up in the dusty store- 
 rooms of the Vatican ! The Parisians now took fire. They 
 remonstrated, and protested against this infringement of the 
 treaty; and a portion of the national guards stoutly declared 
 that they would defend the gallery ! But the king loved the 
 pope's toe better than all the works of art ever achieved ; and 
 the German autocrat being also a devoted friend of St. Peter's 
 (while at the same time he lusted after the " brazen images"), 
 the assenting fiat was given. Wishing, however, to throw the 
 stigma from the shoulders of catholic monarchs upon those of 
 protestant soldiers, these wily allies determined that, although 
 England was not to share the spoil, she should bear the trou- 
 ble; and, therefore, threatened the national guards with a 
 regiment of Scotchmen — which threat produced the desired 
 effect. 
 
 Now it may be said, that the " right of conquest" is as strong 
 'on one side as on the other, and justifies the reclamation as 
 fully as it did the original capture of these chef d'oeuvres : to 
 
LOUIS XVIII. AND THE ALLIES. 525 
 
 which plausible argument I oppose two words ; the treaty I the 
 treaty ! Besides, if the right of conquest is to decide, then I 
 fearlessly advance the claim of Great Britain, who was the 
 principal agent in winning the prize at Waterloo, and had, 
 therefore, surely a right to wear at least some portion of it ; 
 but who, nevertheless, stood by and sanctioned the injustice, 
 although she had too high a moral sense to participate in it. 
 What will my fellow-countrymen say, when they hear that the 
 liberal motive which served to counterbalance, in the minds of 
 the British ministry of that clay, the solid advantages resulting 
 from the retention of the works of art at Paris, was a jealousy 
 of suffering the French capital to remain " the Athens of 
 Europe I" 
 
 The farce played off between the French king and the allies 
 was supremely ridiculous. The Cossacks bivouacked in the 
 square of the Carrousel before his majesty's windows ; and 
 soldiers dried their shirts and trowsers on the iron railings of„ 
 the palace. This was a nuisance ; and for the purpose of 
 abating it, three pieces of ordnance duly loaded, with a gun- 
 ner and ready-lighted match, were stationed day and night 
 upon the quay, and pointed directly at his ??iajesty's drawing- 
 room, so that one salvo would have despatched the most 
 Christian king and all his august famjly to the genuine Champs 
 Elysee. This was carrying the jest rather too far, and every 
 rational man in Paris was shaking his sides at so shallow a 
 manoeuvre, when a new object of derision appeared in shape of 
 a letter purporting to be written by King Louis, expressing his 
 wish that he was young and active enough (who would doubt 
 his wish to grow young again 1) to put himself at the head of 
 his own army, attack his puissant allies, and cut them all to 
 pieces for their duplicity to his loving and beloved subjects. 
 
 A copy of this letter was given me by a colonel of the na- 
 tional guards, who said that it was circulated by the highest 
 authority. 
 
 " Lettre du Roy au Prince Talleyrand, 
 
 "Du 22 Juillet, 1815. 
 " La conduite des armes alliees reduira bientdt mon people 
 a s'armer contre elles, comme on a fait en Espagne. 
 
526 CAPITULATION OF PARIS. 
 
 " Plus jeune, je nie mettrais a sa tete ; — mais, si 1'age et mes 
 infirmites m'en empechent, je ne veux pas, an moins, paroitre 
 conniver a des inesures dont je gemis ! je suis resolu, si je ne 
 puis les adoucir, a demander asile au roi d'Espagne. 
 
 " Que ceux qui, meme apres la capture de 1'homme a qui ils 
 on declare la guerre, continuent a traiter mon peuple en enne- 
 ini, et doivent par consequent me regarder comme tel, attentent 
 s'ils le veulent a ma liberte ! ils en sont les maitres ! j'aime 
 mieux vivre dans ma prison que de rester ici, temoin passif des 
 pleurs de mes enfans." 
 
 But — to close the scene of his majesty's gallantly, and anx- 
 iety to preserve the capitulation entire. After he had per- 
 mitted the plunder of the Louvre, a report was circulated that 
 Blucher was determined to send all considerations of the treaty 
 
 to the d , and with his soldiers to blow up the Pont de Jena, 
 
 as the existence of a bridge so named was an insult to the 
 victorious Prussians ! This was, it must be admitted, suffi- 
 ciently in character with Blucher : but some people were so 
 fastidious as to assert that it was in fact only a claptrap on be- 
 half of his most Christian majesty ; and true it was, that next 
 day copies of a very dignified and gallant letter from Louis 
 XVIIL, were circulated extensively throughout Paris. The 
 purport of this royal epistle was not remonstrance : that would 
 have been merely considered as matter of course : it demand- 
 ed that Marshal Blucher should inform his majesty of the pre- 
 cise moment the bridge was to be so blown up, as his majesty 
 (having no power of resistance) was determined to go in per- 
 son, stand upon the bridge at the time of the explosion, and 
 mount into the air amid the stones and mortar of his beautiful 
 piece of architecture ! No doubt it would have been a sublime 
 termination of so sine cura a reign, and would have done more 
 to immortalize the Bourbon dynasty than anything they seem 
 at present likely to accomplish ! 
 
 However, Blucher frastrated that gallant achievement, as he 
 did many others, and declared, in reply, that he would not 
 singe a hair of his majesty's head for the pleasure of blowing 
 up a hundred bridges ! 
 
THE CATACOMBS OF PARIS. 527 
 
 THE CATACOMBS AND PERE LA CHAISE. 
 
 The Catacombs of Paris — Ineffective Nature of the Written Description of these as com- 
 pared with the Reality — Author's Descent into them — His Spoeiy Return — Contrast 
 presented by the Cemetery of Pete la Chaise — Tomb of Abelard and Heloise — An En- 
 glish Capitalist's Notions of Sentiment. 
 
 The stupendous catacombs of Paris form perhaps the great- 
 est curiosity of that capital. I have seen many well-written 
 descriptions of this magazine of human fragments, yet on actu- 
 ally visiting it, my sensations of awe, and I may add, of dis- 
 gust, exceeded my anticipation. 
 
 I found myself (after descending to a considerable depth 
 from the light of day) among winding vaults, where, ranged 
 on every side, are the trophies of death's universal conquest. 
 Myriads of grim, fleshless, grinning visages, seem (even through 
 their eyeless sockets) to stare at the passing mortals who have 
 succeeded them, and ready with long knotted fingers to grasp 
 the living into their own society. On turning away from these 
 hideous objects, my sight was arrested by innumerable white 
 scalpless skulls and mouldering limbs of disjointed skeletons, 
 mingled and misplaced in terrific pyramids ; or, as if in mock- 
 ery of nature, framed into mosaics, and piled into walls and 
 barriers ! 
 
 There are men of nerve strong enough to endure the con- 
 templation of such things without shrinking. I participate 
 not in this apathetic mood. Almost at the first step which I 
 took between these ghastly ranks in the deep catacomb 
 d'Enfer (whereunto I had plunged by a descent of ninety 
 steps), my spirit no longer remained buoyant ; it felt subdued 
 and cowed ; my feet reluctantly advanced through the gloomy 
 mazes : and at length a universal thrill of horror crawled along 
 the surface of my flesh. It would have been to little purpose 
 to protract this struggle, and force my will to obedience : I 
 therefore, instinctively as it were, made a retrograde move- 
 ment ; I ascended into the world again, and left my less sensi- 
 tive and wiser friends to explore at leisure those dreary re- 
 gions. And never did the sun appear to me more bright ; 
 
528 THE CATACOMBS AND PERE LA CHAISE. 
 
 never did I feel his rays more cheering and genial ; than as I 
 emerged from the melancholy catacombs into the open air. 
 
 The visiter of Paris will find it both curious and interesting 
 to contrast with these another receptacle for the dead — the 
 cemetery of Pere la Chaise. It is strange that there should 
 exist among the same people, in the same city, and almost in 
 the same vicinity, two GolgotJias in their nature so utterly dis- 
 similar and repugnant from each other. 
 
 The soft and beautiful features of landscape which charac- 
 terize Pere la Chaise are scarcely describable : so harmoni- 
 ously are they blended together, so sacred does the spot appear 
 to quiet contemplation and hopeful repose, that it seems almost 
 profanation to attempt to submit its charms in detail before 
 the reader's eye. All in fact that I had ever read about it 
 fell, as in the case of the catacombs (" alike, but ah, how dif- 
 ferent !") — far short of the reality. 
 
 I have wandered whole mornings together over its winding 
 paths and venerable avenues. Here are no " ninety steps" of 
 descent to gloom and horror ; on the contrary, a gradual ascent 
 leads to the cemetery of Pere la Chaise, and to its enchanting 
 summit, on every side shaded by brilliant evergreens. The 
 straight lofty cypress and spreading cedar uplift themselves 
 around, and the arbutus exposing all its treasure of deceptive 
 berries. In lieu of the damp mouldering scent exhaled by 
 three millions of human skeletons, we are presented with the 
 fragrant perfume of jessamines and of myrtles — of violet-beds 
 or variegated flower-pots decked out by the ministering hand 
 of love or duty ; as if benignant Nature had spread her most 
 splendid carpet to cover, conceal, and render alluring even the 
 abode of death. 
 
 Whichever way we turn, the labors of art combine with the 
 luxuriance of vegetation to raise in the mind new reflections : 
 marble, in all its varieties of shade and grain, is wrought by 
 the hand of man into numerous and bewitching shapes ; while 
 one of the most brilliant and cheerful cities in the universe 
 ^seems to lie, with its wooded boulevards, gilded domes, pala- 
 ces, gardens, and glittering waters, just beneath our feet. One 
 sepulchre alone, of a decidedly mournful character, attracted 
 
TOMB OF ABELAKD AND HELOISE. 529 
 
 my notice ; a large and solid mausoleum, buried amidst gloomy- 
 yews and low drooping willows; and this looked only like a 
 patch on the face of lovelinesss. Pere la Chaise presents a 
 solitary instance of the abode of the dead ever interesting me 
 in an agreeable way. 
 
 I will not remark on the well-known tomb of Abelard and 
 Heloise : a hundred pens have anticipated me in most of the 
 observations I should be inclined to make respecting that cel- 
 ebrated couple. The most obvious circumstance in their " sad 
 story" always struck me as being — that he turned priest when 
 he was good for nothing else, and she became " quite correct" 
 when opportunities for the reverse began to slacken. They 
 no doubt were properly qualified to make very respectable 
 saints : but since they took care previously to have their fling, 
 I can not say much for their morality. 
 
 I am not sure that a burial-place similar to Pere la Chaise 
 ■would be admired in England : it is almost of too picturesque 
 and sentimental a character. The humbler orders of the En- 
 glish people are too coarse to appreciate the peculiar feeling 
 such a cemetery is calculated to excite : the higher orders too 
 licentious ; the trading classes too avaricious. The plumholder 
 
 of the city would very honestly and frankly " d n all your 
 
 nonsensical sentiment !" I heard one of these gentlemen, last 
 year, declare that what poets and such-like called sentiment 
 was neither more nor less than deadly poison to the protectant 
 
 23 
 
f)30 PEDIGREE-HUNTIXGr. 
 
 PEDIGREE-HUNTING. 
 
 The Author's Efforts to Discover the Source of his Name and Family — The Irish Herald-at- 
 Arms — Reference made by him to the EtiL'li^h Professor — Heraldic Speculation — Ascent 
 of the Author's Pedigree to the Reign of William the Conqueror — Consultation with the 
 Norman Herald suggested — Author's Visit, to Rouen — Anecdotes of French Convents — 
 Madame Cousin and her System — Traits of Toleration — M. Helliot, the celebrated ancien 
 avor.at of Rouen — Practice ot Legal Bigamy in Normandy — A Breakfast Party — Death of 
 M. Helliot — Interview with an old Herald, formerly of the Noblesse — His Person and 
 Costume described — Discovery of the Town and Castle of Barentin — Occurrences there 
 — The old Beggar-Man — Visit to Jersey, where Dro^o de Barentin was killed in defen- 
 ding the Castle of Mont Orgueil — Return to Barentin, and Singular Incident at Ivetot>— 
 Conclusion. 
 
 My visit to France enabled me, besides gratifying myself by 
 the. sight and observation of the distinguished characters of 
 whom I have, in the Sketches immediately foregoing, made 
 mention, to pursue an inquiry that I had set on foot some time 
 previously in my own country. 
 
 As I have already informed the reader in the commence- 
 ment of this work, I was brought up among a sort of demo- 
 cratic aristocracy, which like the race of wolf-dogs, seems to 
 be extinct in Ireland. The gentry of those days took the 
 greatest care to trace, and to preserve by tradition, the pedi- 
 gree of their families and the exploits of their ancestors. 
 
 It is said that " he must be a wise man who knows his own 
 father;" but if there are thirty or forty of one's forefathers to 
 make out, it must necessarily be a research rather difficult for 
 ordinary capacities. Such are therefore in the habit of resort- 
 ing to a person who obtains his livelihood by begetting grand- 
 fathers and great-grandfathers ad infinitum; namely, the 
 herald, who, without much tedious research, can, in these com- 
 mercial days, furnish any private gentleman, dealer, or chap- 
 man, with as beautifully-transcribed, painted, and gilt a 
 pedigree as he chooses to be at the expense of purchasing — 
 with arms, crests, and mottoes, to match : nor are there among 
 the nobility themselves emblazonments more gaudy than may 
 occasionally be seen upon the tilbury of some retired tailor, 
 whose name was probably selected at random by the nurse of 
 a foundling hospital. 
 
THE IRISH AND ENGLISH HERALDS-AT-ARMS. 531 
 
 But as there is, I believe, no great mob of persons bearing 
 my name in existence, and as it is pretty well known to be 
 rather old, I fancied I would pay a visit to our Irish herald-at- 
 arms, to find out, if possible, from what country I originally 
 sprang. After having consulted everything he had to consult, 
 this worthy functionary only brought me back to Queen 
 Elizabeth, which was doing nothing, as it was that virgin 
 monarch, who had made the first territorial grant to my 
 family in Ireland, with liberty to return two members to every 
 future parliament, which they actually did down to my father's 
 time. 
 
 The Irish herald most honorably assured me that he could 
 not carry me one inch farther, and so (having painted a most 
 beautiful pedigree), he recommended me to the English her- 
 ald-at-arms, who, he had no doubt, could take up the thread, 
 and unravel it to my satisfaction. 
 
 I accordingly took the first opportunity of consulting this 
 fresh oracle, whose minister having politely heard my case, 
 transferred it to writing — screwed up his lips — and looked 
 steadfastly at the ceiling for some five minutes : he then 
 began to reckon centuries on his fingers, took down several 
 large books full of emblazonments, nodded his head, at last, 
 cleverly and scientifically taking me up from the times of 
 Queen Elizabeth, where I had been abruptly dropped by my 
 fellow-countryman, delivered me, in less than a fortnight, as 
 handsome a genealogical tree as could be reasonably desired : 
 on this I triumphantly ascended to the reign of William the 
 Conquerer, and the battle of Hastings, at which some of my 
 ancestors were, it appears, fairly sped, and provided with neat 
 lodgings in Battle abbey, where, for aught I know to the con- 
 trary, they still remain. 
 
 The English herald-at-arms also informed me (but rather 
 mysteriously) that it was 'probable I had a right to put a 
 French De at the beginning of my name, as there was a Nor- 
 man ton at the end of it ; but that, as he did not profess French 
 heraldry, I had better inquire farther from some of the craft 
 in Normancly, where that science had at the period of the 
 Crusades greatly flourished — William the Conqueror, at the 
 
532 PEDIGREE-HUNTING. 
 
 time lie was denominated the Bastard, Laving "by all accounts 
 established a very celebrated heraldic college at Rouen. 
 
 I was much pleased with his candor, and thus the matter 
 rested until Louis XVIII returned home with his family, 
 when, as the reader is aware, I likewise passed over to France 
 with mine. 
 
 I did not forget the hint given' me by my armorial friend in 
 London : and in order to benefit by it, repaired, as soon as 
 circumstances permitted, to Rouen, in which town we had 
 been advised to place our two youngest daughters, for pur- 
 poses of education, at a celebrated Ursuline convent, the 
 abbess whereof was considered a more tolerating reh'gieuse 
 than any of her contemporaries. Before I proceed to detail 
 the sequel of my heraldic investigations, I will lay before the 
 reader one or two anecdotes connected with French nunneries. 
 
 The abbess of the convent in question, Madame Cousin, was 
 a fine handsome old nun, as affable and insinuating as possible, 
 and gained on us at first sight. She enlarged on the great 
 advantages of her system ; and showed us long galleries of 
 beautiful little bedchambers, together with gardens overlook- 
 ing the boulevards and adorned by that interesting tower 
 wherein Jeanne d'Arc was so long confined previously to her 
 martyrdom. Her table, Madame Cousin assured us, was ex- 
 cellent and abundant. 
 
 I was naturally impressed with an idea that a nun feared 
 G-od at any rate too much to tell twenty direct falsehoods and 
 practise twenty deceptions in the course of half an hour, for 
 the lucre of fifty Napoleons, which she required in advance, 
 without the least intention of giving the value of five for them ; 
 and, under this impression, I paid down the sum demanded, 
 gave up our two children to Madame Cousin's motherly tutel- 
 age, and returned to the Hotel de France almost in love with 
 the old abbess. 
 
 On our return to Paris, we received letters from my daugh- 
 ters, giving a most flattering account of the convent generally, 
 of the excellence of Madame l'Abbesse, the plenty of good 
 food, the comfort of the bedrooms, and the extraordinary prog- 
 ress they were making in their several acquirements. I was 
 
ANECDOTES OF FRENCH NUNNERIES. 533 
 
 hence induced to commence the second half-year, also in ad- 
 vance ; when a son-in-law of mine, calling to see my daugh- 
 ters, requested the eldest to dine with him at his hotel, which 
 request was long resisted by the abbess, and only granted at 
 length with manifest reluctance. When arrived at the hotel, 
 the poor girl related a tale of a very different description, from 
 the foregoing, and as piteous as unexpected. Her letters had 
 been dictated to her by a priest. I had scarcely arrived at 
 Paris, when my children were separated, turned away from 
 the show bedrooms, and allowed to speak any language to 
 each other only one Jwur a day, and not a icord on Sundays. 
 The eldest was urged to turn catholic ; and above all, they 
 were fed in a manner at once so scanty and so bad, that my 
 daughter begged hard not to be taken back, but to accompany 
 her brother-in-law to Paris. This was conceded ; and when 
 the poor child arrived, I saw the necessity of immediately re- 
 calling her sister. I was indeed shocked at seeing her — so 
 wan and thin, and greedy did she appear. 
 
 On our first inquiry for the convent above alluded to, we 
 were directed by mistake to another establishment belonging 
 to the saint of the same name, but bearing a very inferior ap- 
 pearance, and superintended by an abbess whose toleration 
 certainly erred not on the side of laxity. We saw the old 
 lady within her grated lattice. She would not come out to 
 us ; but on being told our business, smiled as cheerfully as 
 fanaticism would let her. (I dare say the expected pension 
 already jingled in her glowing fancy.) Our terms were soon 
 concluded, and everything was arranged when Lady Barring- 
 ton, as a final direction requested that the children should not 
 be called too early in the morning, as they were unused to it. 
 The old abbess started : a gloomy doubt seemed to gather on 
 her furrowed temples ; her nostrils distended ; and she abruptly 
 asked, " Netesvous pas catlioliques ?" 
 
 " Non," replied Lady Barrington, " nous sommes protestans" 
 
 The countenance of the abbess now utterly fell, and she 
 
 shrieked out, " Mon Dieu ! alors vous etes lierctiques ! Je ne 
 
 permets jamais d'heretique dans ce convent ! allez ! allez ! vos 
 
 enfans n'entreront jamais dans le convent des TJrsulines ! allez ! 
 
534 PEDIGREE-HUNTING. 
 
 allez /" and instantly crossing herself, and muttering, she 
 withdrew from the grate. 
 
 Just as we were turned out, we encountered, near the gate, 
 a very odd though respectable looking figure. It was that of 
 a man whose stature must originally have exceeded six feet, 
 and who was yet erect, and, but for the natural shrinking of 
 age, retained his full height and manly presence : his limbs 
 still bore him gallantly, and the frosts of eighty winters had 
 not yet chilled his warmth of manner. His dress was neither 
 neat nor shabby; it was of silk — of the old costume: his 
 thin hair was loosely tied behind ; and on the whole he ap- 
 peared to be what we call ahove the world. 
 
 This gentleman saw that we were at a loss about something 
 or other ; and with the constitutional politeness of a French- 
 man of the old school, at once begged us to mention our em- 
 barrassment and command his services. Everybody, he told 
 us, knew him, and he knew everybody at Rouen. We ac- 
 cepted his offer, and he immediately constituted himself cicis- 
 beo to the ladies and Mentor to me. After having led us to 
 the other convent des TJrsulines, of which I have spoken, he 
 dined with us, and I conceived a great respect for the old 
 gentleman. It was Monsieur Helliot, once a celebrated avo- 
 cat of the parliament at Rouen : his good manners and good 
 nature rendered his society a real treat to us ; while his mem- 
 ory, information, and activity, were almost wonderful. He 
 was an improvisore poet, and could converse in rhyme and 
 sing a hundred songs of his own composing. 
 
 On my informing M. Helliot that one of my principal 
 objects at Rouen was a research in heraldry, he said he would 
 next day introduce me to the person of all others most likely 
 to satisfy me on that point. His friend was, he told me of a 
 noble family, and had originally studied heraldry for his 
 amusement, but was subsequently necessitated to practise it 
 for pocket-money, since his regular income was barely suffi- 
 cient (as was then the average with the old nobility of Nor- 
 mandy) to provide him soup in plenty, a room and a bed- 
 recess, a weekly laundress and a repairing tailor. " Rouen," 
 continued the old advocate, " requires no heralds now ! The 
 
M. IIELLIOT LEGAL BIGAMY. 535 
 
 nobles are not even able to emblazon their pedigrees, and the 
 manufacturers purchase arms and crests from the Paris heralds, 
 who have always a variety of magnificent ones to dispose of 
 suitable to their new customers." 
 
 M. Helliot had a country-house about four miles from Rouen ; 
 near the commandery, which is on the Seine : a beautiful 
 wild spot, formerly the property of the knights of St. John of 
 Jerusalem. Helliot's house had a large garden ornamented 
 by his own hands : he one clay came to us to beg we would 
 fix a morning for taking a dejeuner a la fourchctte at his cot- 
 tage, and brought with him a long bill of fare (containing 
 nearly everything in the eating and drinking way that could 
 be procured at Rouen), whereon he requested, we would mark 
 with a pencil our favorite dishes ! He said, this was always 
 their ancient mode when they had the honor of a socie.ie distin- 
 gue, and we were obliged to humor him. He was delighted ; 
 and then assuming a more serious air, " But," said he, " I have 
 a very particular reason for inviting you to my cottage : it is 
 to have the honor of introducing you to a lady who, old as I 
 am, has consented to marry me the ensuing spring. " I know," 
 added he, " that I shall be happier in her society than in that 
 of any other person : and, at my time of life, we want some- 
 body interested in rendering our limited existence as comfort- 
 able as possible." 
 
 This seemed ludicrous enough, and the ladies' curiosity 
 was excited to see old Helliot's sweetheart. We were accord- 
 ingly punctual to our hour. He had a boat ready to take us 
 across the Seine near the commandery, and we soon entered 
 a beautiful garden in a high state of order. In the house (a 
 small and very old one) we found a most excellent repast. 
 The only company besides ourselves was the old herald to 
 whom M. Helliot had introduced me ; and, after a few min- 
 utes, he led from an inner chamber his intended bride. She 
 appeared, in point of years, at least as venerable as the bride- 
 groom ; but a droop in the person and a waddle in the gait 
 bespoke a constitution much more enfeebled than that of the 
 gallant who was to lead her to the altar. " This," said the ad- 
 vocate, as he presented her to the company, " is Madame 
 
536 PEDIGREE-HUNTING. 
 
 but rCimporte ! after our repast you shall learn her name 
 and history. Pray, maclame," pursued he, " with an air of 
 infinite politeness, " have the goodness to do the honors of the 
 table ;" and his request, was complied with as nimbly as his 
 inamorata's quivering hands would permit. 
 
 The wine went round merrily : the old lady declined not 
 her glass ; the herald took enough to serve him for the two or 
 three following days ; old Helliot hobnobbed a la mode An- 
 glaise ; and in half an hour we were as cheerful, and, I should 
 think, as curious a breakfast party as Upper Normandy had 
 ever produced. 
 
 When the repast was ended, "Now," said our host, "you 
 shall learn the history of this venerable bride that is to be on 
 or about the 15th of April next. You know," continued he, 
 " that between the age of seventy and death the distance is 
 seldom very great, and that a person of your nation who arrives 
 at the one, is generally fool enough to be always gazing at 
 the other. Now we Frenchmen like, if possible, to evade the 
 prospect ; and with that object we contrive some new event, 
 which, if it can not conceal, may at least take off our attention 
 from it ; and of all things in the world, I believe matrimony 
 will be admitted to be most effectual either in fixing an epoch 
 or directing a current of thought. We antiquated gentry here, 
 therefore, have a little law, or rather custom, of our own, 
 namely, that after a man has been in a state of matrimony for 
 fifty years, if his charmer survives, they undergo the ceremony 
 of a second marriage, and so begin a new contract for another 
 half-century, if their joint lives so long continue ! and inas- 
 much as Madame Helliot (introducing the old lady anew, kiss- 
 ing her cheek, and chucking her under the chin) has been 
 now forty-nine years and four months on her road to a second 
 husband, the day that fifty years are completed we shall re- 
 commence our honey -moon, and every friend we have will, I 
 hope, come and see the happy reunion." — "Ah !" said mad- 
 ame, " I fear my bride's maid Madame Veuve Gerard, can't 
 hold out so long ! Mais, Dieu Merci!" cried she, "I think I 
 shall myself, monsieur," addressing me " be well enough to get 
 through the ceremony." 
 
INTERVIEW WITH AN OLD FRENCH HERALD. 537 
 
 I wish I could end this little episode as my heart would dic- 
 tate. But, alas ! a cold caught by my friend the advocate, 
 boating on the Seine, before the happy month arrived, pre- 
 vented a ceremony which I would have gone almost any dis- 
 tance to witness. Sic transit gloria mundi ! 9 
 
 But to my heraldic investigation. The old professor with 
 whom M. Helliot had made me acquainted, had been one of 
 the ancienne noblesse, and carried in his look and deportment 
 evident marks of the rank from which he had been compelled 
 to descend. Although younger than the advocate, he was still 
 somewhat stricken in years. His hair, thin and highly pow- 
 dered, afforded a queue longer than a quill and nearly as 
 bulky. A tight plaited stock and solitaire, a tucker and ruffles, 
 and a cross with the order of St. Louis ; a well-cleaned black 
 suit (which had survived many a cuff and cape, and seen many 
 a year of full-dress service), silk stockings, paste knee and 
 large silver shoe-buckles, completed his toilet. 
 
 He said, on my first visit, in a desponding voice, that he 
 deeply regretted the publicans had burned most of his books 
 and records during the revolution ; and having consequently 
 little or nothing left of remote times to refer to, he really could 
 not recollect my ancestors, though they might perhaps have 
 been a very superbc Jamille. On exhibiting, however, my En- 
 glish and Irish pedigrees (drawn out on vellum, beautifully 
 ornamented, painted and gilt, with the chevalier's casquet, 
 three scarlet chevenels and a Saracen's head), and touching 
 his withered hand with the metallic tractors, the old herald's eyes 
 assumed almost a youthful fire ; even his voice seemed to 
 change ; and having put the four dollars into his breeches- 
 pocket, buttoned the flap, and then felt at the outside to make 
 sure of their safety, he drew himself up with pride — 
 
 " Between this city and Havre de Grace," said he, after a 
 pause, and having traced with his bony fingers the best gilded 
 of the pedigrees, " lies a town called Barentin, and there once 
 stood the superb chateau of an old warrior, Drogo de Barentin. 
 At this town, monsieur, you will assuredly obtain some account 
 of your noble family." After some conversation about Wil- 
 liam the Conqueror, Duke Eollo, Richard Coeur de Lion, &c, 
 
538 PEDIGREE-HUNTING. 
 
 I took my leave, determining to start with all convenient speed 
 toward Havre de Grace. 
 
 On the road to that place, I found the town designated by 
 the herald, and having refreshed myself at an auberge set out 
 to discover the ruins of the castle, which lie not very far dis- 
 tant. Of these, however, I could make nothing ; and, on re- 
 turning to the auberge, I found mine host decked out in his 
 best jacket and a huge opera-hat. Having made this worthy 
 acquainted with the object of my researches, he told me, with 
 a smiling countenance, that there was a very old beggar-man 
 extant in the place, who was the depository of all the circum- 
 stances of its ancient history, including that of the former lords 
 of the castle. Seeing I had no chance of better information, 
 I ordered my dinner to be prepared in the first instance, and 
 the mendicant to be served up with the dessert. 
 
 The figure which presented itself really struck me. His 
 age was said to exceed a hundred years : his beard and hair 
 were white, while the ruddiness of youth still mantled in his 
 cheeks. I don't know how it was, but my heart and purse 
 opened in unison, and I gratified the old beggar-man with a 
 sum which I believe he had not often seen before at one time. 
 I then directed a glass of eau-de-vie to be given him, and this 
 he relished even more than the money. He then launched 
 into such an eulogium on the noble race of Drogo of the cha- 
 teau, that I thought he never would come to the point ; and 
 when he did, I received but little satisfaction from his commu- 
 nications, which he concluded by advising me to make a voy- 
 age to the island of Jersey. " I knew," said he, " in my youth, 
 a man much older than I am now, and who, like me, lived 
 upon alms. This man was the final descendant of the Barentin 
 family, being an illegitimate son of the last lord ; and he has 
 often told me, that on that island his father had been mur- 
 dered, who, having made no will, his son was left to beg, while 
 the king got all, and bestowed it on some young lady." 
 
 This whetted my appetite for farther intelligence, and I re- 
 solved, having fairly engaged in it, to follow up the inquiry. 
 Accordingly, in the spring of 1S1G, leaving my family in Paris, 
 I set out for St. Maloes, thence to Granville, and, after a most 
 
VISIT TO JERSEY INCIDENT AT IYETOT. 539 
 
 interesting journey through Brittany, crossed over in a fishing- 
 boat, and soon found myself in the square of St. Hillier's, at 
 Jersey. I had been there before on a visit to General Don, 
 with General Moore and Colonel le Blanc, and knew the 
 place : but this time I went incog. 
 
 On my first visit to Jersey, I had been much struck with 
 the fine situation and commanding aspect of the magnificent 
 castle of Mont Orgueil, and had much pleasure in anticipating 
 a fresh survey of it. But guess the gratified nature of my emo- 
 tions, when I learned from the old warder of the castle, that 
 Drogo de Barentin, a Norman chieftain, had been, in fact, its 
 last governor ! that his name was on its records, and that he 
 had lost his life in its defence on the outer ramparts. He left 
 no lawful male offspring, and thus the Norman branch of the 
 family had become extinct. 
 
 This I considered as making good progress ; and I re- 
 turned cheerfully to Barentin, to thank my mendicant and his 
 patron the auhergiste, intending to prosecute the inquiry far- 
 ther at Rouen. I will not hazard fatiguing the reader by de- 
 tailing the result of any more of my investigations ; but it is 
 curious enough that at Ivetot, about four leagues fron Barentin 
 (to an ancient chateau near which place I had been directed 
 by mine host), I met with, among a parcel of scattered furni- 
 ture collected for public sale, the portrait of an old Norman 
 warrior, which exactly resembled those of my great-grand- 
 father, Colonel Barrington of Cullenaghmore : but for the dif- 
 ference of scanty black hair in one case, and a wig in the 
 other, the heads and countenances would have been quite un- 
 distinguishable ! I marked this picture with my initials, and 
 left a request with the innkeeper at Ivetot to purchase it for 
 me at any price ; but having unluckily omitted to leave him 
 money likewise, to pay for it, the man, as it afterward 
 appeared, thought no more of the matter. So great was my 
 disappointment, that I advertised for this portrait — but in 
 vain. 
 
 I will now bid the reader farewell — at least for the present. 
 This last sketch may by some, perhaps, be considered super- 
 fluous : but, as a pardonable vanity in those who write any- 
 
540 PEDIGREE-HUNTING. 
 
 thing in the shape of autobiography, and a spirit of curiosity 
 in those who peruse such works, generally dictate and- require 
 as much information respecting the author's genealogy as can 
 be adduced with any show of plausibility, I hope I shall be 
 held to have done my utmost in this particular, and I am satis- 
 fied. 
 
 THE END 
 
J. S. REDFIELD, 
 
 110 AND 112 NASSAU STREET, NEW YORE, 
 
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 " Highly entertaining even to those who have little time to study the science."— 
 Detroit Daily Advertiser. 
 
 '• This is a remarkable volume and will be read by two classes, those who study fo» 
 information, and those who read lor amusement. For its originality and entertaining 
 character, we commend it to our readers." — Albany Express. 
 
 " It is overflowing with wit, humor, and originality, and profusely illustrated. The 
 whole work is distinguished by vast research and knowledge." — Knickerbocker. 
 
 "The plan is a novel one; the proofs ttriking, and must challenge the attention of the 
 eurioua "--Daily Advertiser 
 
redfield's new and popular publications. 
 
 NOTES AND EMENDATIONS OF SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 Notes and Emendations tc the Text of Shakespeare's Plays, from 
 the Early Manuscript Corrections in a copy of the folio of 1^32. 
 in the possession of John Payne Collier, Esq., F.S.A. Third 
 edition, with a fac-simile of the Manuscript Corrections. 1 vol 
 l2mo, cloth, $1 50. 
 
 ' It is not for a moment to be doubted, we tbink, that in this volume a contribution 
 U*« been made to the clearness and accuracy of Shakespeare's text, by far the most im 
 portant of any offered or attempted since Shakespeare lived and wrote." — Lond. Exam 
 
 "The corrections which Mr. Collier has here given to the world are, we venture to 
 think, of more value than the labors of nearly all the critics on Shakespeare's text put 
 together." — London Literary Gazette. 
 
 " It is a rare gem in the history of literature, and can not fail to command the atten- 
 tion of all the amateurs of the writings of the immortal dramatic poet."— Ch'ston Cour 
 
 "It is a book absolutely indispensable to every admirer of Shakespeare who wishes 
 to read him understandingly." — Louisville Courier. 
 
 " It is clear from internal evidence, that for the most part they are genuine restora- 
 tions of the original plays. They carry conviction with them." — Home Journal. 
 
 "This volume is an almost indispensable companion to any of the editions of 
 Shakespeare, so numerous and often important are many of the corrections."— Register 
 Philadelphia. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF THE CRUSADES. 
 
 By Joseph Francois Michaud. Translated by W. Iiobson, 3 vols. 
 12mo., maps, $3 75. 
 
 " It is comprehensive and accurate in the detail of facts, methodical and lucid in ar- 
 rangement, with a lively and flowing narrative." — Journal of Commerce. 
 
 " We need not say that the work of Michaud has superseded all other histories 
 of the Crusades. This history lias long been the standard work with all who could 
 read it in its original language. Another work on the same subject is as improbable 
 as a new history of the 'Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.' " — Salem Freeman. 
 
 " The most faithful and masterly history ever written of the wild wars for the Holy 
 Land." — Philadelphia American Courier. 
 
 "The ability, diligence, and faithfulness, with which Michaud has executed his 
 great task, are undisputed ; and it is to his well-filled volumes that the historical stu- 
 dent must now resort for copious and authentic facts, and luminous views respecting 
 this most romantic and wonderful period in the annals of the Old World." — Boston 
 Daily Courier. 
 
 ^B 
 
 MARMADUKE WYVIL. 
 
 An Historical Romance of 1651, by Henry W. Herbert, author 
 of the " Cavaliers of England," &c, &c. Fourteenth Edition. 
 Revised and Corrected. 
 
 " This is one of the best works of the kind we have ever read — full of thrilling inci- 
 dents and adventures in the stirring times of Cromwell, and in that style which has 
 made the works of Mr. Herbert so popular." — Christian Freeman, Boston. 
 
 "The work is distinguished by the same historical knowledge, thrilling incident, and 
 pictorial beauty of style, which havt characterized all Mr. Herbert's fictions and imparted 
 to them such a bewitching interest."— Yankee Blade. 
 
 " The author out of a simple plot and very few characters, has constructed a novel 
 of deep interest and of considerable historical value. It will be found well worth 
 rending"— National /^gis, Worcester. 
 
REDFIELD S NEW AND POPULAR PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 MACAULATS SPEECHES. 
 
 Speeches b^ the Right Hon. T. B. Macaulat, M. P., Author of 
 
 44 The History of England," " Lays of Ancient Rome," &c, &c. 
 Two vols., 12mo, price $2.00. 
 
 " It is hard to say whether his poetry, his speeches in parliament, or his brilliant 
 essays, are the most charming; each has raised him to very great eminence, and would 
 be sufficient to constitute the reputation of any ordinary man." — Sir Archibald Alison 
 
 " It may be said that Great Britain has produced no statesman since Burke, who has 
 united in so eminent a degree as Macaulay the lofty and cultivated genius, the eloquent 
 orattr, and the sagacious and far-reaching politician." — Albany Argus. 
 
 " We do not know of any living English orator, whose eloquence comes so near the 
 ancient ideal — close, rapid, powerful, practical reasoning, animated by an intense earn 
 estness of feeling." — Courier <V Enquirer. 
 
 " Mr. Macaulay has lately acquired as great a reputation as an orator, as he had for- 
 merly won as an essayist and historian. He takes in his speeches the same wide and 
 comprehensive grasp of his subject that he does in his essays, and treats it in the same 
 elegant style." — Philadelphia Evening Bulletin. 
 
 " The same elaborate finish, sparkling antithesis, full sweep and copious flow of 
 thought, and transparency of style, which made his essays so attractive, are found in 
 his speeches. They are so perspicuous, so brilliantly studded with ornament and illus- 
 tration, and so resistless in their current, that they appear at the time to be the wis»*s^ 
 and greatest of human compositions." — NewYork Evangelist. 
 
 TRENCH ON PROVERBS. 
 
 On the Lessons in Proverbs, by Richard Chenevix Trench, B. D., 
 
 Professor of Divinity in King's College, London, Author of the 
 44 Study of Words." 12mo, cloth, 50 cents. 
 
 "Another charming book by the author of the '« Study of Words," on a subject which 
 Is so ingeniously treated, that we wonder no one has treated it before." — Yankee Blade, 
 
 " It is a book at once profoundly instructive, and at the same time deprived of all 
 approach to dryness, by the charming manner in which the subject is treated." — Ar 
 thur's Home Gazette. 
 
 " It is a wide field, and one which the author has well cultivated, adding not only to 
 his own reputation, but a valuable work to our literature." — Albany Evening Transcript. 
 
 " The work shows an acute perception, a genial appreciation of wit, and great re- 
 search. It is a very rare and agreeable production, which may be read with profit and 
 delight." — New York Evangelist. 
 
 " The style of the author is terse and vigorous — almost a model in its kind." — Port 
 land Eclectic. 
 
 THE LION SKIN 
 
 And the Lover Hunt ; by Charles de Bernard. 12mo, $1.00. 
 
 " It is not often the novel-reader can find on his bookseller's shelf a publication so full 
 of incidents and good humor, and at the same time so provocative of honest thought." 
 ~ -National (Worcester, Mass.) A^gis. 
 
 " It is full of incidents ; and the reader becomes so interested in the principal person- 
 ages in the work, that he is unwilling to lay the book down until he has learned then 
 whole history." — Boston Olive Branch. 
 
 " It is refreshing to meet occasionally with a well-published story which is written for 
 a story, and for nothing else — which is not tipped with the 6napper of a moral. o» 
 loaded in the handle with a pound of philanthropy, or an equal quantity of leaden phi 
 losophy." — Sprijigjield Republican. 
 
REDFIELDS NEW AND POPULAR PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 MOORE'S LIFE OF SHERIDAN. 
 
 Memoirs of the Life of the Rt. Hon. Richard Brinsley Shendsn, 
 by Thomas Moore, with Portrait after Sir Joshua Reynolds. 
 Two vols., 12mo, cloth, $2.00. 
 
 "One of the most brilliant biographies in English literature. It is the life of a wit 
 written by a wit, and few of Tom Moore's most sparkling poems are more brilliant and 
 'ascinating than this biography." — Boston Transcript. 
 
 " This is at once a most valuable Mography of the most celebrated wit of the times, 
 nd one of the most entertaining works oi its gifted author." — Springfield Republican. 
 
 " The Life of Sheridan, the wit, contains as much food for serious thought as the 
 best sermon that was ever penned." — Arthurs Home Gazette. 
 
 " The sketch of such a character and career as Sheridan's by sue "land as Moore's, 
 can never cease to be attractive." — N. Y. Courier and Enquirer. 
 
 "The work is instructive and full of interest." — Christian Intelligencer. 
 
 " It is a gem of biography ; full of incident, elegantly written, warmly appreciative, 
 and on the whole candid and just. Sheridan was a rare and wonderful genius, and has 
 in this work justice done to his surpassing merits." — N. Y. Evangelist. 
 
 BARRINGTON'S SKETCHES. 
 
 Personal Sketches of his own Time, by Sir Jonah Barrington, 
 Judge tf the High Court of Admiralty in Ireland, with Illustra- 
 tions by Darley. Third Edition, 12mo, cloth, $1 25. 
 
 " A more entertaining book than this »*■ not often thrown in our way. His sketches 
 of character are inimitable ; and many of the prominent men of his time are hit ofl iu 
 the most striking and graceful outline." — Albany Argus. 
 
 " He was a very shrewd observer and eccentric writer, and his narrative of his owii 
 life, and sketches of society in Ireland during his times, are exceedingly humorous and 
 interesting." — N. Y. Commercial Advertiser. 
 
 " It is one of those works which are conceived and written in so hearty a view, and 
 brings before the reader so many palpable and amusing characters, that the entertain 
 ment and information are equally balanced."— Boston Transcript. 
 
 "This is one of the most entertaining books of the season." — N. Y. Recorder. 
 
 " It portrays in life-like colors the characters and daily habits of nearly all the Eng 
 lish and Irish celebrities of that period."— N. Y. Courier and Enquirer. 
 
 JOMINFS CAMPAIGN OF WATERLOO. 
 
 The Political and Military History of the Campaign of Waterloo 
 from the French of Gen. Baron Jomini, by Lieut. S "V. Benet 
 U. S. Ordnance, with a Map, 12mo, cloth, 75 cents. 
 
 "Of great value, both for its historical merit and its acknowledged impartiality."— 
 Christian Freeman, Boston. 
 
 " It has long been regarded in Europe as a work of more than ordinary merit, while 
 to military men his review of the tactics and manoeuvres of the French Emperor dur 
 ing the few days which preceded his final and mo6t disastrous defeat, is considered na 
 instructive, as it is interesting."— Arthurs Home Gazette. 
 
 " It is a standard authority and illustrates a subject of permanent interest. WitV. 
 military students, and historical inquirers, it will be a favorite reference, and for tli« 
 general reader it possesses great value and interest." — Boston Transcript. 
 
 " It throws much light on often mooted points respecting Napoleon's military and 
 political genius. The translation is one of much vigor."— Boston Commonwealth. 
 
 "It supplies an important chapter in the most interesting and eventful period of Na 
 poleon's military career." — Savannah Daily News. 
 
 "It is ably written and skilfully translated." — Yank<e Blade. 
 
REDFIELDS NEW AND POPULAR PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 LIFE IN THE MISSION. 
 
 Life in the Mission, the Camp, and the Zenana. By Mrs. CoLin 
 Mackenzie. 2 vols., 12mo. Cloth. $2 00. 
 
 "It is enlivened with countless pleasant anecdotes, and altogether is one of the most 
 entertaining and valuable works of the kind that we have met with fur many a day."— 
 Boston Traveller. 
 
 ' A more charming production lias not issued from the press for years, than this jour 
 nal of Mrs. Mackenzie." — Arthur's Home Gazette. 
 
 " She also gives us a clearer insight into the manners, position, climate, and way of 
 life in general, in that distant land, than we have been able to obtain from any other 
 work." — Christian Herald. 
 
 " Her observations illustrative of the religious state of things, and of the progress of 
 Missions in the East, will be found specially valuable. It is on the whole a fascinating 
 work, and withal is fitted to do good." — Puritan Recorder. 
 
 " She was familiarly acquainted with some of the excellent laborers sent out by the 
 Presbyterian Board of Foreign Missions, of whom she speaks in the most favorable 
 terms. The work is instructive and very readable." — Presbyterian. 
 
 WESTERN CHARACTERS. 
 
 Western Characters ; being Types of Border Life in the Western 
 States. By J. L. M'Connel. Author of '-Talbot and Vernon," 
 " The Glenns," &c, &c. With Six Illustrations hy Darley. 
 12mo. Cloth. $1 25. • 
 
 " Ten different classes are sketched in this admirable book, and written by the hand 
 of a master. The author is an expert limner, and makes his portraits striking." — Buf- 
 falo Express. 
 
 "Never has Darley's pencil been more effectively used. The writer and sketcher 
 have made a unique and most attractive American book." — Boston Transcript. 
 
 " When we say that the book before us is calm in style as it is forcible in matter, we 
 have indicated a sufficiency of good qualities to secure the attention of the reader, who 
 would extend his sympathies and secure himself a due degree of amusement, without 
 — what is not uncommon in books with similar titles — a shock to his taste, or insult to 
 his judgment. There is nothing equal to them in the book illustrations of the day. A 
 special paragraph should be given to the illustrations by Darley." — Literary World. 
 
 A THANKSGIVING STORY. 
 
 Chanticleer: A Story of the Peabody Family. By Cornelius 
 Mathews. With Illustrations by Darley, Walcutt, and Dallas. 
 12mo. 75 cents. 
 
 'Its success is already a fixed fact in our literature. 'Chanticleer' is one of those 
 simple and interesting tales which, like the ■ Vicar of Wakefield' and Zchokke's ' Poor 
 Pastor,' win their way to the reader's heart and dwell there. It is full of sunshine: a 
 hearty and a genial book." — New York Daily Times. 
 
 " ' Chanticleer' is scarcely inferior !n a literary point of view to any of the Christmas 
 stories of Charles Dickens, and is more interesting to Americans because of its allusions 
 to the peculiar customs of this country." — N. Y. Com. Advertiser. 
 
 '" Chanticleer' has won the public heart, both by the felicity of its subject, and the 
 grace, wit, and goodness, displayed in its execution." — Southern Literary Gazette. 
 
 "It possesses literary merit of the highest order, anil will live in the affections of all 
 readers of good taste and good morals, nut only while Thanksgiving dinners are remi m 
 bered, but while genius 13 appreciated." — Morning News, Savannah. 
 
REDFIKLD's NEW AND TOPULAR PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 THE BLACKWATER CHRONICLE ; 
 
 A Narrative of an Expedition into the Land of Canaan, in Ran- 
 dolph County, Virginia, a Country flowing with Wild Animals, 
 such as Panthers, Bears, Wolves, Elk, Deer, Otter, Badger, &c, 
 &c, with innumerable Trout, by Five Adventurous Gentlemen, 
 without any Aid of Government, and solely by their Own Re- 
 sources, in the Summer of 1851. By " The Clerke of Oxen- 
 forde." With Illustrations from Life, by Strother. 
 
 "This is a handsomely-printed and beautifully-illustrated volume. Those who have 
 a taste for field sports will be delighted with thi% cleverly-written narrative of the 
 achievements and experiences of a hunting party in the hunting-grounds of the Old 
 Dominion." — Savannah Daily News. 
 
 "A queer, quaint, amusingly-written book, brimful of drollery and dare-devil humor. 
 The work overflows with amusement, and has a vignette-title and other beautiful illua 
 trations, by Strother." — Yankee Blade. 
 
 "A pleasant book of American character and adventure, of interest geographically, 
 sportively, and poetically. The authorship is of a good intellectual race ; the " Clerk.) 
 of Oxenforde," who figures in the title-page, being own brother to the author of " Swal- 
 low Barn," which, as everybody knows, is the " Sketch-Book" of that land of gentlemen 
 and humorists." — Literary World. 
 
 MINNESOTA AND ITS RESOURCES ; 
 
 To which are Appended Camp-Fire Sketches, or Notes of a Trip 
 from St. Paul to Pembina and Selkirk Settlements on the Red 
 River of the North. By J. Wesley Bond. With a New 
 Map of the Territory, a View of St. Paul, and One of the Falls 
 of St. Anthony. In One Volume, 12mo. Cloth. $1 00. 
 
 •• To the immigrant to the northwest, and to the tourist in search of pleasure it is wor- 
 thy of being commended for the valuable and interesting knowledge it contains." — Chi 
 cago Daily Tribune. 
 
 ,l The work will surprise many, as it opens to us a new land, shows its vast resources, 
 and treats its history with all the accuracy that could be acquired by diligent research 
 and careful observation, during a three years' residence." — Boston Gazette. 
 
 '.■ It contains notices of the early history of the country, of its geographical features, its 
 agricultural advantages, its manufactures, commerce, facilities for travelling, the charac- 
 ter of its inhabitants — everything, indeed, to illustrate its resources and its prospects." 
 
 ■Puritan Recorder. 
 
 " We have seen no work respecting the northwest of equal value to this." — Christian 
 Intelligencer. 
 
 THE YEMASSEE. 
 A Romance of South Carolina. By William Gilmore Simais. 
 Author of » The Partisan," » Guy Rivers," &c, &c. New 
 and Revised Edition. With Illustrations by Darley. 12mo 
 Cloth. $1 25. 
 
 " A picture of the early border life of the Huguenot settlers in South Carolina. Like 
 Scott's novels, it is a mixture of history and romance." — Hartford Christian Secretary. 
 
 " It is written in an uncommonly glowing style, and hits off the Indian character with 
 uncommon grace and power " — Albany Argus. 
 
 ' " The whole work is truly American, much of the material being of that character 
 which can be furnished by no other country." — Daily Times. 
 
 "The delineations of the red men of the south are admirably sketched while the his- 
 torical events upon which the work is founded are vouched for by the author as 6trictiy 
 true." — Niw Bedford Mercury 
 
redfikld's new and popular publications 
 
 ART AND INDUSTRY, 
 
 As Represented in the Exhibition at the Crystal Palace, New York. 
 Showing the Progress and State of the Various Useful and Es- 
 thetic Pursuits. From the New York Tribune. Revised and 
 Edited by Horace Greeley. 12mo., Cloth. Fine Paper, 
 $1 00. Paper Covers, 50 Cents. 
 
 " The articles comprised in this work are thirty-six in number, on various subjects ; 
 they are elaborately and vigorously written, and contain much desirable information.* 
 — Savannah Republican. 
 
 '• it will be read extensively and with interest by all who are engaged in any depart- 
 ment ot the useful or graceful arts'— Lowell Journal and Courier. 
 
 '-' Everybody interested in the state of American art or industry should have a copy." 
 — Register, Phila. 
 
 " Evidently written with a great deal of care, and presents in a small compass a very 
 laro-e amount of information, in relation to the latest improvements in science and art." 
 — Arthur's Home Gazette. > 
 
 " In each department of industry there is a rapid view of the history ol the art or 
 arts involved in its production, so that the work is much more than a mere descriptive 
 account of the contents of the Crystal Palace. It deserves to be studied for the informa- 
 tion it contains, and to be preserved as a book of reference." — Puritan Recorder, Boston. 
 
 " Especially to the mechanic and the manufacturer, this book will prove highly ac- 
 ceptable."— Christian Secretary, Hartford. 
 
 A MONTH IN ENGLAND. 
 
 By Henry T. Tuckerman. Author of " Sicily, a Pilgrimage," 
 "The Optimist." &c. 12mo., Cloth. 75 Cents. 
 
 " Commend us to this, for the pleasantest book on England we ever read, always ex- 
 cepting Macaulay's history."— Springfield Evening Post. 
 
 "His sketches are complete pictures oi the hi-toryand life of English literature ; con- 
 densed yet full, chaste yet glowing with beattty." — N. Y. Independent. 
 
 " This is really a delightful book. The author is well known as an original and vigor- 
 ous writer and keen observer." — Christian Freeman. 
 
 " A lively, racy volume of travels, in which the author gives us his impressions of the 
 castles, books, artists, authors, and other et cetera which came in his way."' — Zion'g 
 Herald. 
 
 "Mr. Tuckerman is one of the purest and most elegant writers that adorn American 
 literature." — Knickerbocker, Albany. 
 
 VASCONSELOS. 
 A Romance of the New World. By Frank Cooper. 12mo M 
 Cloth. 81 25. 
 
 "The scenes are laid in Spain and the New World, and the skill with which the pomp 
 and circumstance of chivalry are presented, make Vaseonselos one of the most inter- 
 esting works of American fiction." — N. Y. Evening Post. 
 
 " It is well written, full of spirit, interesting historical facts, beautiful local descrip- 
 tions, and well-sustained characters. Cuban associations abound in it, and there is a fine 
 southern glow over the whole." — Boston Transcript. 
 
 " It is freely written, full of sparkle and freshness, and must interest any one whose 
 appreciation is at all vigorous." — Buffalo Express. 
 
 "The story is an interesting one, while the style is most refreshingly good for theso 
 days of easy writing." — Arthur's Home Gazette. 
 
 "This is an American romance, and to such as are fond of this order of literature, it 
 will be found intensely interesting.'' — Hartford Christian Secretary. 
 
redfield's new and popular publications. 
 
 A STRAY YANKEE IN TEXAS. 
 
 A Stray Yankee in Texas. By Philip Paxton. With Illustra- 
 tions by Darley. Second Edition, 12mo., cloth. $1 25. 
 
 " The work is a chef d'wnvre in a style of literature in which our country has nc 
 rival, and we commend it to all who are afflicted with the blues or 'eimui, as an effec- 
 tual means ot tickling their diaphragms, and giving their cheeks a holyday.'" — Boston 
 Yankee Blade. 
 
 ''■ We find, on a perusal of it, that Mr. Paxton has not only produced a readable, but 
 a valuable book, as regards reliable information on Texan affairs. — Hartford Christian 
 Secretary. 
 
 "The book is strange, wild, humorous, and yet truthful. It will be found admirably 
 descriptive of a state of society which is fast losing its distinctive peculiarities in the 
 rapid increase of population." — Arthur's Home Gazette. 
 
 " One of the richest, most entertaining, and, at the same time, instructive works one 
 could well desire.*' — Syracuse Daily Journal. 
 
 " The book is a perfect picture of western manners and Texan adventures, and will 
 occasion many a hearty laugh in the reader." — Albany Daily State Register. 
 
 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 Nick of the Woods, or the Jibbenainosay ; a Tale of Kentucky. By 
 Robert M. Bird, M. D., Author of "Calavar," "The Infidel," 
 &c. New and Revised Edition, with Illustrations by Darley. ] 
 volume, 12mo., cloth, $1 25. 
 
 '* One of those singular tales which impress themselves in ineradicable characters 
 upon the memory of every imaginative reader." — Arthur's Home Gazette. 
 
 " Notwithstanding it takes the form of a novel, it is understood to be substantial truth 
 in the dress of fiction ; and nothing is related but which has its prototype in actual 
 reality." — Albany Argus. 
 
 4 It is a tal<* of frontier life and Indian warfare, written by a masterly pen, with its 
 gcenes so graphically depicted that they amount to a well-executed painting, at once 
 striking and thrilling." — Buffalo Express. 
 
 WHITE, RED, AND BLACK. 
 
 Sketches of American Society, during the Visits of their Guests, by 
 Francis and Theresa Pulszky. Two vols., 12mo., cloth, $2. 
 
 •' Mr. Pulszky and his accomplished wife have produced an eminently candid and 
 judicious book, which will be read with pleasure and profit on both sides of the Atlan- 
 tic." — Niv> York Daily Times. 
 
 " The authors have here furnished a narrative of decided interest and value. They 
 have given us a view of the Hungarian war, a description of the Hungarian passage tc 
 this country, and a sketch of Hungarian travels over the country." — Philad. Christian 
 Chronicle. 
 
 " Of all the recent books on America by foreign travellers, this is at once the most 
 fair and the most correct."— Philad. Saturday Gazette. 
 
 " Unlike most foreign tourists in the United States, they speak of our institutions, 
 manners, customs, &c, with marked candor, and at the same time evince a pretty thor 
 otiL'h knowledge of our history." — Hartford Christian Secretary. 
 
 "This is a valuable book, when we consider the amount and variety of the informa 
 tion it contains, and when we estimate the accuracy with which the facts aro detailed. 
 — Worcester Spy 
 
redfield's new and popular publications. 
 
 NAPOLEON IN EXILE ; 
 
 Or, a Voice from St. Helena. Being the opinions and igflections of 
 Napoleon, on the most important events in his Life and Govern- 
 ment, in his own words. By Barry E. O'Meara, his late Sur- 
 geon, with a- Portrait of Napoleon, after the celebrated picture of 
 Delaroche, and a view of St. Helena, both beautifully engraved 
 on steel. 2 vols. 12mo, cloth, $2. 
 
 " Nothing can exceed the graphic truthfulness with which these volumes record the 
 words and habits of Napoleon at St. Helena, and its pages are endowed with a charm 
 Car transcending that of romance." — Albany Slate Register. 
 
 " Every one who desires to obtain a thorough knowledge of the character of Napoleon, 
 should possess himeeif of this book of O'Meara's."— Arthur's Home Gazette. 
 
 " It is something indeed to know Napoleon's opinion of the men and events of the 
 thirty years preceding his fall, and his comments throw more light upon history than 
 anything we have read."— Albany Express. 
 
 " The two volumes before us are worthy supplements to any history of France." 
 / tton Evening Gazette. 
 
 MEAGHER S SPEECHES. 
 
 Speeches on the Legislative Independence of Ireland, with Intro- 
 ductory Notes. By Francis Thomas Meagher. 1 vol. 12mo, 
 Cloth. Portrait. $1. 
 
 " The volume before us embodies some of the noblest specimens of Irish eloquence ; 
 not florid, boinbastic, nor acrimonious, but direct, manly, and convincing." — New York 
 Tribune. 
 
 " There is a glowing, a burning eloquence, in these speeches, which prove the author 
 a man of extraordinary intellect." — Boston Olive Braiich. 
 
 " As a brilliant and effective orator, Meagher stands unrivalled." — Portland Eclectic. 
 
 " All desiring to obtain a good idea of the political history of Ireland and the move- 
 ments of her people, will be greatly assisted by reading these speeches." — Syracust 
 Daily Star. 
 
 "It is copiously illustrated by explanatory notes, so that the reader will have no diffi- 
 culty in understanding the exact state of affairs when each speech was delivered."-— 
 Boston Traveller. 
 
 THE PRETTY PLATE, 
 
 A new and beautiful juvenile. By John Vincent. Illustrated by 
 Darley. 1 vol. "IGmo, Cloth, gilt, 63 cts. Extra gilt edges, 88 cts. 
 
 "We venture to say that no reader, great or small, who takes up this book, will lay il 
 down unfinished." — Courier and Enquirer. 
 
 " This is an elegant little volume for a juvenile gift-book. The stoi-y is one of peculiai 
 Instruction and interest to the young, and is illustrated with beautiful engravings."— 
 Boston Christian Freeman. 
 
 " One of the very best told and sweetest juvenile stories that has been issued from the 
 pres9 this season. It has a most excellent moral."— Detroit Daily Advertiser. 
 
 " A nice little book for a hoi ydny present. Our little girl has read it through, and pro- 
 nounces it first rate." — Hartford Christian Srcretary. 
 
 " Tt is a pleasant child's book, well told, handsomely published, and illustrated ii 
 D&rley's-best sty It! '—Albany Express. 
 
REDFIELD S NEW AND POPUL iR. PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 CLOVERNOOK; 
 
 Or, Recollections of our Neighborhood in the West. By Alice 
 Caret. Illustrated by Darley. One vol., I2mo., price $1.00. 
 (Fourth edition.) 
 
 " [n this volume there is a freshness which perpetually charms the reader. You seem 
 \i be made free of western homes at once." — Old Colony Memorial. 
 
 "They bear the true stamp of genius— simple, natural, truthful — and evince a ke«n 
 eonse of the humor and pathos, of the comedy and tragedy, of life in the country." — J 
 Q Whittier. 
 
 DREAM-LAND BY DAY-LIGHT: 
 
 A Panorama of Romance. By Caroline Chesebiio\ Illustrated 
 by Darley. One vol., 12mo., price $1.25. (Second edition.) 
 
 " These simple and beautiful stories are all highly endued with an exquisite percep- 
 tion of natural beauty, with which is combined an appreciative sense of its relation to 
 the highest moral emotions." — Albany State Register. 
 
 " Gladly do we greet this floweret in the field of our literature, for it is fragrant with 
 sweet and bright with hues that mark it to be of Heaven's own planting." — Courier and 
 Enquirer. 
 
 " There is a depth of sentiment and feeling not ordinarily met with, and some of the 
 noblest faculties and affections of man's nature are depicted and illustrated by the eiU- 
 ful pen of the authoress." — Churchman. 
 
 LAYS OF THE SCOTTISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 By William E. Aytoun, Professor of Literature and Belles-Let 
 tres in the University of Edinburgh and Editor of Blackwood's 
 Magazine. One vol., 12mo. cloth, price $1.00. 
 
 " Since Lockhart and Macaulay's ballads-, we have had no metrical work to be com- 
 pared in spirit, vigor, and rhythm with this. These ballads knbedy and embalm the 
 chief historical incidents of Scottish history— literally in 'thoughts that breathe and 
 words that burn.' They are full of lyric energy, graphic description, and genuine feel 
 mg." — Home Journal. 
 
 " The fine ballad of ' Montrose' in this collection is alone worth the price of the book.' 
 3t>$toi, Transcript. 
 
 THE BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 By Bon Gaultier. One volume, 12mo., cloth, price 75 cents. 
 
 ''Here is a book for everybody who loves classic fun. It is made up of ballads of 
 H eorts. each a capital parody upon the style of some one of the best lyric writers of 
 Ltiu time, from the thundering versification of Lockhart and Macaulay to the sweetesl 
 «nd simplest strains of Wordsworth and Tennyson. The author is one of the first 
 scholars, and one of the most finished writers of the day, and this production is but the 
 frolic of his genius in play-time " — Courier and Enquirer. 
 
 " We do not know to whom belongs this nom de plume, but he is certainly a humorist 
 ?i no common povvr.r." — Providence Journal. 
 
REDFI ELD'S NEW AND POPULAR PUBLICATIONS. 
 " SHAKESPEARE AS HE WROTE IT." 
 
 THE WORKS OF SHAKESPEARE, 
 
 Reprinted from the neicly-discovered copy of the Folio of 1632 
 M ike possession of J. Payne Collier, containing nearly 
 
 Twenty Thousand Manuscript Corrections, 
 
 With a History of the Stage to the Time, an Introduction to 
 each Play, a Life of the Poet, etc. 
 
 By J. PAYNE COLLIER, F.S.A. 
 
 To which are added, Glossarial and other Notes, the Readings of Former 
 Editions, a Portrait after that by Martin Droeshout, a Vignette Titlb 
 on Steel, and a Facsimile of the Old Folio, with the Manuscript Cor- 
 rections. 1 vol, Imperial 8vo. Cloth $4 00. 
 
 The WORKS OF SHAKESPEARE the same as the above 
 Uniform in Size with the celebrated Chiswick Edition, 8 vols. 
 l6mo, cloth $6 00. Half calf or moroc. extra 
 
 These are American Copyright Editions, the Notes being expressly prepared 
 for the work. The English edition contains simply the text, without a single 
 note or indication of the changes made in the text. In the present, the vari- 
 ations from old copies are noted by reference of all changes to former editions 
 (abbreviated f. e.). and every indication and explanation is given essential to a 
 clear understanding of the author. The prefatory matter, Life, Sec, will be fuller 
 than in any American edition now published. 
 
 "This is the only correct edition of the works of the 'Bard of Avon' ever issued, 
 and no lover or student of Shakespeare should be without it." — Philadelphia Argus. 
 
 " Altogether the most correct and therefore the most valuable edition extant." — Alba- 
 ny Express. 
 
 "This edition of Shakespeare will ultimately supersede all others. It must certainly 
 be deemed an essential acquisition by every lover of the great dramatist" — N. Y. Com- 
 mercial Advertiser. 
 
 "This great work commends itself in the highest terms to every Shakespearian schol- 
 ar and student." — Philadelphia City Item. 
 
 {' This edition embraces all that is necessary to make a copy of Shakespeare desirable 
 and correct." — Niagara Democrat. 
 
 " It must sooner or later drive all others from the market." — N. Y Evening Post. 
 " Beyond all question, the very best edition of the great bard hitherto published." — 
 Nfw England Religious Herald. 
 ■• It mustherenfter he the standard edition of Shakespeare's plays." — National Argil*. 
 «' It is clear from internal evidence that they are genuine restorations of the origi 
 nal plays." — Detroit Daily Times. 
 
 "This must we think supersede all other editions of Shakespeare hitherto published. 
 Collier's corrections make it really a different work from its predecessors. Compared 
 with it we consider them hardly worth possessing." — Daily Georgian, Savannah. 
 
 " One who will probably hereafter be considered as the only true authority. No one 
 we think, will wish to -^rchase an edition of Sbakespeare, except it shall be conform- 
 able to the amended text oy Collier." — Newark Daily Advertiser. 
 
 "A great outcry has been made in England against this edition of the bard, by Sin- 
 ger and others interested in other editions ; but the emendations commend themselves 
 too strongly to the good sense of every reader to be dropped by the public — the old 
 editions must become obsolete." — Yankee Blade, Boston. \ 
 

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