LIFE OFi JAMES CLARENCE BY JOHN DUBLIN: T. D. SULLIVAN, 90 MIDDLE ABBEY-STBEET. Pike Threepence. : . %x\ M3>li>Y-ro JAMES CLARENCE HANG AN. HIS LIFE AND WRITINGS. By JOHN M‘CALL. Chapter I. — His Parentage and Schoolboy Days. To our shame it has often been said of us mercurial Irishmen that we are a fickle and ungrateful people, more especially to our own, and when we should show our appreciation of true genius, as in the case of the poet whose name heads this biographical notice, we refuse through life to accord him a helping hand, and, what is worse, after his demise we allow his cherished memory to gradually fade away without one genuine effort being made to raise it from that cold lethargy into which it has fallen. Whilst lives of persons of mediocre character, with editions of their tame works, have been from time to time issued from the press for our enlightenment and edification, let us ask ourselves what has been as yet done towards the collection and preservation of the poetical writings of this great national lyrist, the gifted but ill- fated James Clarence Mangan, second only in rank, it must be acknowledged, to our own immortal Moore. And while there are so many denizens our good city still amongst us who thoroughly knew the decased poet through his chequered career, and appre- ciated his writings, let us just examine what proper steps they have taken towards the elucidation and preservation of the several facts and phases of his eventful history whilst here, we might truly say, a stranger in our midst. Indeed, we may affirm that up to this period no worthy attempt has been made to weave the several incidents of his life into some tangible shape, and in fact, before it is too late, to rescue his name and fame from being en veloped in “ oblivion’s sooty muffle,” as poor Mangan himself so forcibly expressed it, the inevitable doom of many a deserving son of song. His most intimate friend* the late John 0’Daly ? who had an opportunity of knowing more of our poet’s haunts and habits of living than any other of his contemporaries, has just a mere cur- sory sketch of Mangan’s life prefixed to that splendid work, “The Poets and Poetry of Munster,” but this volume can scar- cely now bo had unless in some of our Dublin libraries. True, it may be said that his friend and confidant, John Mitchei, accomplished this desideratum by giving, as no other author could, a full'history of the poet’s life, and a splendid collection of his poetical effusions. No doubt but that for some years before Mitchel’s lamented death he made great efforts to collect Mangan’s scattered works, and to write such a memoir of the deceased poet as might be at least acceptable to . his many friends and admirers. But the ta.sk was undertaken at the instance of an American publisher in New York, and far away from his own loved Ireland, where only could be collected the necessary materials for a work of such importance. Even at the outset this biographer had to acknowledge that the poet s 'early life and associations, and even' the many intervals he passed when absent from his literary patrons, were entirely un- known to the writer. Mitchei knew nothing of MaDgan s con- nection w.th Jones’s Diaries, the Comet Club, and but imper- fectly of the several penny journals, and hence his otherwise intere ting memoir of the poet falls very short of what the general reader would be led to expect. Consequently, the memoir being only an incomplete affair, this ponderous volume of Mitchel’s is mainly made up of those German and other translations that have already appeared in Curry’s “ Anthologia Germanica,” while several of Mangan’s most beautiful and spirited Irish renderings and original compositions are not to be found in this collection. Besides, as we have said, it was in New York the book was published, and at a price which placed it beyond the reach of the generality of the Irish reading ^ The late Maurice Leyne treated of Mangan in rather a cen- sorious manner when he republished several nearly forgotten pieces of the poet’s in a supplement to the Nation , issued a long while ago. The present writer likewise indited a short sketch of “ Mangan’s Early Life and First Poetical Attempts in the columns of the said newspaper, about six years since, which was the first glimmer of light thrown upon that rather shadowy portion of our poet’s chequered career. Our ingenious friend, Eugene Davis, Clonakilty, under the guise of Owen Koe, has lately written a very pleasing memoir of our poet for one of our popular contemporaries, while in the pages of our own Young Ireland, that versatile writer, Thomas Sherlock, has com- posed another short biography of Mangan, treating of our poet from quite a different standpoint from that m which we were previously in the habit of viewing his acts. That accom- plished scholar, John H. Ingram, has likewise given a short critical review of our poet’s life and labours m The Dublin University Magazine for December, 1877 ; but this high-priced CLARENCE MANGAN. 3 monthly, like Mitchel’s work, can scarcely be found in Ireland, except among the aristocratical circles. Other slight sketches of Mangan may have appeared from time to time, but, after glancing through the whole of these biographical notices, we cannot fail to observe that they have all a tendency to run in the one dry groove. There is nothing novel about them. They all invariably treat of the same main features of our poet’s clouded career, chiefly made up from Mitchel’s work, stray paragraphs in penny magazines, and old newspaper extracts well known before to the reading public^ while they leave the great Mangan’s life, as one sublime whole, a3 great a myth as ever ! We have shown that Mangan’s early connection with the Diaries, &c., is com- pletely ignored by Mitchel and his other biographers, and as the present writer happens to have in his possession copies of all the young punster’s mystical writings which appeared in Jones’s, New Ladies’, and Grant’s Almanacks between the years 1818 and 1826, together with having a knowledge of many lead- ing incidents in the poet’s life as yet but imperfectly known to the bulk of his admirers, he is tempted to give a slight sketch of same in these pages, in the fond hope that some competent historian may yet arise to do full justice to the almost forgotten Mangan’s memory, who will collect all his scattered pieces, and write such an exhaustive memoir of our poet as will bring his fame down to the end of time. James Mangan’s father’s name was also James. He was one of those ripe Munster scholars from Shanagolden, county Lime- rick, for some time settled in Dublin, and it is surmised that it was from this parent the son inherited that great natural poet- ical talent which he in after years displayed. The poet’s grand- father by the mother’s side was John Smith, a respectable farmer and grazier at Kiltale, near Dunsany, county Meath, and who flourished about the middle of the last century. This scion of the Smith family had a sister Mary, who, settling in Dublin, in due course was married to a Mr. Farrell, proprietor of a grocery and spirit stores in the old house 3 Fishamble-street, but there was never any issue from their union. Amongst the children of the above-mentioned John Smith were the late Michael Smith, the celebrated bacon-curer of Copper-alley, off Fishamble street, and our poet’s mother, , Catherine Smith, who after old Mr. Farrell’s death, her aunt being childless, came up to the metropolis to superintend the business arrangements of the shop. And when this aunt, Mrs. Farrell, died, in a good round age, she bequeathed the house in Fishamble-street, and all her worldly possessions, to this niece, Catherine Smith, who, while she was owner of the place in her CLARENCE MANGAN, 4 own right in 1801, as is well known, married James Mangan senior. The issue of this union were James, the subject of this brief memoir, who was born in 1803 ; William, afterwards ap- prenticed to a cabinet maker ; a third boy, who died young ; and a daughter, who likewise died in girlhood, from the effects of a scald. For a considerable time business prospered so well with James Mangan, senior, that he was enabled to retire with a com- petence from the grocery trade, and the house in Fishamble- stfreet once more passed to the Smith family, the repre- i sentatives of which continue in the old paternal home even to the present day. When the poet’s father relinquished business, he commenced to speculate in building houses in the vicinity of “The Bleeding Horse,” Lower Camden-street. He was now much addicted to pomp and show, was in the habit of giving costly balls and parties, and when he had not room enough in his own house to entertain his numerous guests he often invited them to hotels in the city, or to pic nics on the green sward in the county Wicklow. In consequence of this ex travagance, as may be foreseen, he very soon ran through most of ’his worldly effects. His failure in trade so affected him that, it is said, he shortly afterwards died of a broken heart. The family now removed to more humble lodgings in Peter street, where they were still able to keep one servant. During the juvenile days of the two brothers, James and William, they were both so odd, and of such eccentric dispositions, that even their own mother dare not accost them while in some of their gloomy moods. In early issues of the Irishman newspaper, as we have been informed, a series of remarkable papers on the Irish poets appeared, one of which was an epitome cf Mangan’s early life, a portion of which seemed to be penned by the poet him- self. After treating of his parentage, birth, &c., it went on to describe his early attachments, his many peculiarities, his strange mode of living, and the difficulties he had to encounter in endeavouring to support the young helpless family committed to his charge. It telh that he doated almost to distraction on the little sister who, through the result of an accident, was so suddenly snatched away from him, and her death so heavily preyed on his rather sensitive mind that he never afterwards ceased to regret the blue-eyed cherub, her image ever haunting him in his dreams. In illustration of the poet’s abstracted and retiring disposition when he was eight years old or so, and while, we suppose, the family resided in their humble lodgings in Chancery-lane, it makes mention of a little girl of curling sunny locks, a couple CLARENCE mangan, ' 5 of Summers his senior, who was his constant playmate in their innocent outdoor sports, to whom he unburthened his childish secrets, with whom he shared his gooseberries and sugar plums, and who, as a natural consequence, like those of her sex of more mature years, soon acquired such a complete sway over the timid boy that he could refuse her no request that she asked — there was no feat, however daring, that he would not attempt to perform for her sake. There was a certain love-ditty most par- ticularly pleasing to her, and it so occurred that one hazy morn- ing, as the pair were playing as usual in one of the open halls adjacent to their abode, they were agreeably surprised by hear- ing this favourite melody warbled forth by an itinerant ballad- singer, with an admiring auditory round him, as he proceeded at a rather slow pace down the great thoroughfare of Bride-street. After the children had listened for some time in silent admira- tion the whim seized the exacting young creature to despatch her knight-errant with a small copper in hand to purchase the ballad, and in his anxiety to please he quickly started on his mission, oblivious that he was bareheaded and the rain commencing to fall heavily at the time. Arriving in the centre of the motley crowd, he was still, as usual, so timid and retiring in his nature that he could not find it in his his heart to disturb the lusty melodist, or even for one moment interrupt his play- mate’s favourite song, by making his purchase. The multitude passed up Werburgh-street, and still the entranced Mangan essayed not to fulfil his errand ; on through Skinner’s-row, High-street, Corn-market, and Cutpurse*row, with a like result ; and it wa3 only when the singer and his admirers emerged into the open thoroughfare of Thomas-street that our hatless friend, now feeling himself thoroughly drenched to the skin, bethought of the mission he was sent on, and summoned up courage enough to buy the ballad. The cold and saturation he experienced that morning more particularly affected his visual organs, and in after life much im- paired his sight, and hence he was latterly obliged to wear those enormous green goggles so pointedly alluded to by his office companion, Wakeman, and which rendered him so conspicuous- ooking passing along the streets. The late John O’Daly tells of our poet and his brother being sent to school to some old-fashioned pedagogue who kept his academy in that now dingy locality, Derby square, off Wer- burgh-street. Afterwards, through reduced circumstances, the family were obliged to remove to that populous neighbourhood, Chancery-lane, when our young friend was entered as a pupil with one William Browne, a native of Carlow, who then kept his classical 'and mercantile academy at No. 14 in the same lane. 6 9 CLARENCE MAKUAN. It wa3 while frequenting this Browne’s school that the studious Mangan became acquainted with the two Devoys of Arran- quay, and was by these youthful bards first instructed in the mysteries of inditing and solving those perplexing compositions, enigmas, rebuses, and charades, then, as at present, all the rage of the day. Their preceptor, William Browne, himself a lead- ing correspondent to Jones’s two popular diaries, still more encouraged his willing pupils in the mystic art. James Mangan’s maiden lays, small charades, and a rebus, each headed from Chancery- lane, were composed while he was only fourteen years of age, and severally appeared in the “ New i Ladies’ ” and “ Grant’s Almanacks” for year 1818. But it was not till a couple of years afterwards, and when he had formed an inseparable friendship with the late James Tighe, the ac- knowledged head of the mystic contributors to the Diaries at the time Miat our embryo poet was truly initiated into all the intricacies of puzzledom. Chapter II.— His Connection with Jones’s Two Puzzling Diaries. Even before the mystic James Mangan of Chancery-lane had seen the witty Tighe, through studying his varied contributions in the Diaries the young poet’s heart by some secret im- pulse seemed irresistibly drawn towards him. No wonder, then, that one of those maiden lays of our tyro, which appeared in “ Grant’s Almanac” for 1818, being Rebus 12, a puzzling com- position of eight lines, should be woven on the cherished name of “James Tighe.” The youth’s first effort in the “New Ladies’ Almanac” for the same year, Charade 16, another trifle of twelve lines, is composed on the word “ Penitent.” Jn “Grant’s Almanac” for 1819 our juvenile Diarian has still one puzzle, Rebus 12, on some person’s name, real or ima- ginary, named “ Peter M Quade.” In the “New Ladies’” of the like date, his Charade 10 is of a most mournful tendency, being composed on the word “Distress.” In the issue of “Grant’s” for 1820 he contents himself with having still but one mystic piece, Enigma 8, its subject the en- chanted “Earl of Kildare,” so long remembered in legendary lore, commencing : — “ Who is he, yon huntsman, all clad in dark green? How wild his appearance, how noble his mien ! His mantle it waves in the wind ; His silver-shod courser with eyes dashing fire Searce. breathing one moment the air to respire - Leaves hill, dale, and valley behind,” &c. — T"‘" - - % CLARENCE MAN GAN. 7 Just one little contribution of his likewise appeared in the “ New Ladies’ Almanack” for 1820 on the word “ Libertine.” It was about this time that young Mangan, what he so long secretly yearned for, first formed that inseparable friendship with the before-mentioned James Tighe. This “ mentor and guide” was a native of Dove-hill, Carrickmacross ; he was some years settled in Dublin, and then resided at Crane-street, adjoining James’s-gate. Their mutual companion was one Laurence Bligh, another of Jones’s mystical writers, a native of Kilmurry, county Meath, but who then kept a grocery and spirit shop in the Northern suburb of our city, near Ballybough-bridge. Ah ! many a convivial evening did our two newly knitted friends spend beneath the same hospitable roof. And it was in after years, while seated in Bli^h’s cozy bar parlour overlooking that deserted swamp, the North Lotts, that some of Mangan’s sar- castic compositions were thrown off, apparently without an effort. Hence it is that our poet facetiously headed his cynical lays, from “Mud Island on the other side of the bog.” It was in allusion to these social meetings that a rival of theirs in the Diaries, who wrote under the signature of Joseph Manifold Clonaslee, commenced one of his mystical pieces, Rebus 5, in “ Grant’s” for 1820, with the following very pointed distich : — 41 Ye bards of Ehlana, who wonders devise When ye jovially meet o’er a tankard at Bligh’s.” In Mangan’s juvenile days there were no magazines nor cheap periodicals of any kind published in this country through the medium of which young aspiring poets could give their varied inspirations to the world. In fact, Jones’s two almanacks were the only publications in our metropolis which encouraged such light poetical flights of fancy. In consequence of which there was such a rush made for places on their virgin pages — so many puzzling folk from city and country were yearly seeking to ob- tain the greatest amount of space in these popular annals — that the astute editor, Mark Morton, was obliged to enforce a most salutary rule, that no correspondent, no matter what his pre- tensions might be, could have more than three contributions — viz., an enigma, rebus, and charade— in either “ Grant’s” or the “ New Ladies’ Amanacks” of the same year. But, through some of the leading correspondents adopting feminine noms-de-plume and other disguises, even thi3 most stringent rule was repeatedly infringed. Hitherto our punster Mangan was contented with his one mystic piece in each diary yearly, but in 1821, having removed to more respectable lodgings at 6 York-street, and urged by Tighe to avail himself of the space allotted by Jones to each correspondent, for the first time he this ybar has his 8 CLARENCE MASGAX. regular three puzzles each inserted in the Diaries. In “ Grant’s Almanack,” Enigma 6, on “ An Enigma” ; Rebus 15, on the name of some real or imaginary person, u Daniel Fisher”; and Charade 12, on the word “ Opportunity.” In the “ New Ladies’ Almanack” for the same year he has three other pieces. Enigma 8, on “ Religion” ; Rebus 15, on some female acquaintance’s name, “ Maria Leger” ; and Charade 14, on the word “Im- probable.” In “ Grant’s Almanack” for 1822 James Mangan, still of 6 York-screet, has the requisite quota. Enigma 2, on “A Vam- pire” ; Charade 2, on a “ Gravestone” ; and Rebus 3, a sort of single acrostic on the lamented Emmet’s name. From the patriotic feeling pervading throughout, this latter production is well worthy of being quoted here in full : — The land that we love and the sway that we own— May the land by the sway never cease to be blessed ; The ruler himself and the seat of his throne, And the rod that our souls shall for ever detest, Connect — the initials his name they will show, Ever loved of Ierna and sacred to woe — An oak which though firm to each tempest that passed it Was doomed by a flash, bright and false, to be blasted. For long o’er his darksome and pillowless bed Have the sorrowing winds of the evening been sighing— Full often, alas ! has the passenger’s tread Pressed on the sad spot where his remnants are lying. Ierna ! the man who thy slavery mourned — Whose bosom for ever and hopelessly burned To behold thee a nation, and happy and free. And is there a heart that refuses to cherish His image within it ? Or is there a breast That could think on the fate which condemned him to perish, With all his best feelings unroused from their rest ? Oh, no ! for till life and its sorrows be passed His name on our memory unsullied shall last, While each tear to the woes of his country he gave Her sons shall repay o’er the patriot’s grave !” “ Grant’s” twin companion, the “ New Ladies’ Almanack” for 1822, likewise contains the charmed number of contributions — Charade 2, on the word “Blunderbuss,” and Rebus 3, in the newly introduced Byronic-Spenserian metre, cn that valueless affair, “ Nothing,” which opens with the subjoined unfavourable estimate of this sublunary world of ours : — “ What is the world but dross, deceit, and mummery — A vile compound of every thing immoral ? What are its vain conceits but tasteless flummery, In which none else but first-rate dolts would quarrel ? CLARENCE MANGAN. 9 The child who cries to grasp the glittering coral, The youthful warrior and the deep-read sage, Who risk their brains , for fame and wreaths of laurel, At the gun’s muzzle or the well scratched page.” In addition there is that strangely versified Enigma 4, being an elegy on the death of Johnny Kenchinow, butcher, of Patrick’s-street. There is a curious story .told concerning the origin of this singular composition. It is said that one Winter’s evening, while Mangan, Tighe, and other choice wits were seated round a comfortable fire in a certain house in Bride-street, after many literary subjects had been discussed, the converation naturally turned on the very ineuphonious name of the deceased butcher, and the difficulty of finding words in the English language to rhyme with the same. Then it was that the hitherto retiring Mangan made a small wager, that by the time the com- pany had assembled on the succeeding evening he would have an elegy composed on the defunct victualler, of twelve stanzas of jive lines each , every line of which should rhyme with either “ Kenchinow” or his ‘‘stall.” And he won the wager! We make no apology for quoting in full this unique production TO THE MEMORY OF THE LATE JOHN KENCHINOW, BUTCHER, OF PATRICK- STREET. Come get the black, the mourning pall, The reason I will mention now, And with it, blockheads, bards, and all, Assist to cover Dia’s hall For the loss of Johnny Kenchinow, And is he gone ? cry one and all. To keep you in suspension nov/ Is not my wish — yes, at the call Of death was lately doomed to fall Lamented Johnny Kenchinow. If anyone refuse to yawl, Ye bards, I will convince you now, That, though at first a stubborn Saul Ye be, ere long repentant Paul Shall weep for Johnny Kenchinow. Alas ! this world’s a slippery ball n , And do I reprehension now Deserve — for saying that a straw’ll At times compel a man to sprawl Like peerless Johnny Kenchinow. CLARENCE MAN G- AN. 10 Messina’s cobbler, him of Gaul — Nay, he whose home Valentia now Is — never pierced with shining awl A shoe more sure than Death’s sharp claw’ll Pierce us like Johnny Kenchinow. Great man ! to see thy empty stall — A stall there* not a bench in now — Unnerves me quite, I scarce can scrawl A word ; while tears more sour than gall Flow for thee, Johnny Kenchinow. What though thy legs were strong and tall, Them is the wet clay drenching now ; And eke those hands, so wont to haul The mutton from the well tilled wall By thee built, Johnny Kenchinow. Thy widow’s purse, of course, is small ; So may the State a pension now Allow her, as a threadbare shawl And eieve-like shoes for respite call In vain from Johnny Kenchinow. Her name likewise no man dare maul ; She is an upright wench (and now I talk of wenches) none could squall So loud by half, or rather bawl, At the wake of Johnny Kenchinow, But Judy’s praises here to drawl Is none of my intention now — In sooth, ’twere needless, and withal My muse is ill-disposed to brawl For aught save Johnny Kenchinow. Ye far-famed wits whom rhymes enthrall, I pray you pay attention now : Say, will you come ? Oh, yes ! you shali To view the worms that slowly crawl O’er the head of Johnny Kenchinow. And if the sight your souls appal, Pray tell me what must fence you now Against that grief which doubtless all Who view this woe-creating scrawl Must feel for Johnny Kenchinow? CLABENCE MANGAtf* XI As from henceforward James Mangan ceased to head his con- tributions in the Diaries with his late address, 6 York-street, which perhaps, after all, as W. M. Henessy remarked m his lecture on Mangan, “ may have only been the residence of his scrivenery employer,” it would seem as if in the year 1822 our poet again shifted his lodgings and removed once more back in the direction of Bride-street. For a number of years there was a growing clique of corre* spondent3 in the Almanacks, notably with the hypercritical James Martin of Millbrook, Oldcastle (Blatty O’Reilly), at their head, who assumed the role of censors and rulers in Di, and from their assumed lofty eminence looked down with contempt or envy on other aspiring bards in their attempts at the sublime. At length their criticisms and vilifying grew so particularly obnoxious, that the two mutual friends, Tighe and Mangan, under different noms-de-plume t resolved to chastise these Meathean critics’ proud insolence, and turn their self-assumed airs i^to ridicule ; and from the year of 1823 till Jones’s two Diaries ceased publication in 1826 they gave this self-conceited and domineering junto more than they bargained for. Tighe invariably disported himself under the guises of Ned Numberless and Peter Puff ; while the modest Mangan was content to play second fiddle and assume such titles as Peter Puff Secundus, P. V. M‘Guffin, An Idler, &c. The premier Peter, besides laying the lash on his censorious opponents with no un- sparing hand, very often wound up his cutting effusions by holding up to public view his confrere Peter Puff Secundus as a model of perfection whose stanzas the bards should endeavour to imitate. And the poet thus lauded, not to be outdone, in courtesy, of course, should lay the “soft sawder” in profusion on his friend Peter the first, in return — as, for instance, none else but a poet of Mangan’s supernatural genius could indulge in the mock heroic strain of this Rebus 4 by “ Peter Puff Secundus of Mud Island, the other side of the bog, addressed to Ned Numberless,” and the New Ladies’ Almanack for 1823. Sub- joined is merely the second stanza, but the whole is well deserv- ing of being quoted : — ** What shall I say to thee, thou son of song ? What can I say? I mean ; Oh ! for a crutch whereon to lean And help my gout-struck muse along ! Powers of genius ! whither have ye sped That still ye answer not my cry ? Do you disdain to throw me a reply ? Or are ye so employed with peerless Ned Ye have not time to heed such one as I ? No matter which ; l claim the pity UNIVERSITY OF = ffTfNm5‘DBRARY at OnBANA-CHAMPAIGN 12 CLARENCE MAN GAN. 0£ all, from him who pens the deathless rebus Down to the man who writes an epic ditty To earn the title of ‘a child of Phoebus.* Give me your pity, then, ye bards sublime ! And let it flow in copious streams of rhyme g Weep in each line or I shall weep myself. Lo ! down my cheek the tear to gallop tries— Moll, hand me that old apron from the shelf That I may wipe mine eyes ! In Grant's Almanack for this same year (1823) James Mangan, Dublin, ha* a very pretty Enigma (1) on the word “ Captivity’' ; his celebrated three nought (000) prize piece ; Rebus 1, on what it professei to treat of, “ A Mystery”; and Charade 4, a light trifle eulogistic of the poet “ Bloomfield. ” Besides which, under the guise of Peter Puff Secundus, he has a small satirical affair, Ch trade 3, addressed to the sons of lore. The censorious James Martin Millbrook, it is well known, was supposed to be master of many languages, and our sly satirist Mangan touches ! off the Meathean bard to nature in his Rebus 1, this yea*-. We just cull three of the stanzas : — “ Yes, I have seen him ! T have seen his phiz, he Appeared to me to be extremely busy Inspiring poets — he inspired me also ; Now I can write, write, write — I’m fully able To write in any language-^I’m a Babel — And then your left-hand scribblers I can maul so, » i i i i i i • ** What is it ? transpositions and initials Thick as throughout the oceans are the sea-shells ? Demands a man who styles himself a critic ; And who with saddled nose and visage solemn Is glancing over every page and column To mark whose muse is most a paralytic, But if, as I opine, thy head be stored with What men of genius never wish to hoard with Too much frugality, thou wilt demand : O Nature ! Nature ! why are furnished sconces So thinly scattered through thy works, while dunces Are as a swarm of locusts through the land ?” Beside the before-mentioned, Rebus 4 in the “ New Ladies’ Almanac” for 1823, our poet has another satirical piece, Enigma 2, under the like disguise of Peter Puff Secundus , addressed to Ned Numberless, on the word “ Example,” which we are sorry our space does not permit U3 to quote in full, such a series of CLARENCE MANGAN. 13 scathing denunciations abounding throughout. Besides those two given anonymously, Charade 1 this year, on the word “ Misery,” is under our poet’s real name. In consequence of the proprietor, William Jones’s, illness, there were no Diaries published for the year 1824, but in “ Grant’s Almanac” for the following year James Mangan comes out with a most incom- prehensible enigma, surmounted with four asterisks and two dashes, the solution of which was fully as mysterious a3 the heading itself, “The End of the Enigma.” Beneath the like cabalistic signs he has likewise “ An Address Extraordinary” in Byronic metre ; and under his real name a small charade on the word “ Magic Lanthorn.” Turning now to the “New Ladies’ Almanac” for 1825 he has Charade 1 on the word “Knowledge” ; Enigma 17, mournfully inscribed to his dear Mother Ireland, in a patriotic vein ; and Rebus 8, addressed to some particular Catherine. He could not possibly have here meant hi3 own mother, Catherine Smith, for in it he mercilessly and unfeelingly compares a woman’s tongue to the solution, “ Perpetual Motion.” It concludes as fol- lows : — “ ’Tis that, 0 Catherine ! which the child who will Need only hearken, to discern among The thousand wonders of thy swift, thy shrill, * Thy strong, thy sweeping, thy o’er whelming tongue,” Could any similes more emphatic be indulged in ? James Mangan has still his three puzzling contributions in Grant’s Almanack for 1826. Enigma 2 and Charade 1, under the initials of “ M. E., Dublin” ; and Rebus 1, a most eccentric sort of composition, under the guise of “P. V. M‘Guffin, Bel- lewstown,” addressed to “Nobody”; with eight stanzas, of a most rhapsodical tendency, in Byronic verse, dedicated to the publisher, William Jones, his correspondents in general, and the universe in particular. These latter stanzas likewise appear in the “ New Ladies’ Almanack” for the same year. We cannot forbear quoting one extract from this magnificent poem, as showing that our poet had already commenced to study the mystic, museful German lyrics : — “Some prize a German Tale, in all its mummeried mysticism and plot, Some sleep, some sweep, and some weep o’er a sermon $ Some doat upon the drama — some do not. Some send all brain births whatsoe’er to pot, Saving the daily press ; some look with loathing On the same daily press, being early taught To view it as mere frivolity and frothing. Your favourite, if you please? I relish nothing —nothing ! It CLARENCE MANGAN. In the last “ New Ladies’ Almanack,” published (for 1826) under the like initials of “M. E , Dublin,” our poet, James Mangan, has another most splendid affair in Spenserian stanzas ; and Charade 1, a puzzle of eight lines, together with an enigma, under one of his old disguises, “ Peter Puff, Secundus, of Mud Island,” while perhaps one of the most sublime produc- tions that he ever penned appears as Rebus i. These were the last compositions of a puzzling nature that our rapidly rising poet indited for the Almanacks. His patron, William Jones, resigned the publication of his two popular diaries after the year 1826, and the ambitious Mangan thought it beneath his notice to correspond to Brett Smith’s “ Lady’s and Farmer’s Almanack,” the diminutive substitute that arose in their stead. It will be thus seen that during these nine years of our poet’s connection with Jones’s Diaries he contributed no less than thirty eight mystical pieces to their varied pages — a very large number indeed, when we take into account the restrictions that were then imposed on the several correspondents against for- warding more than the magic number of three to each almanack annually. Chapter III.— He Becomes a Member of the Comet Club, His Contributions to the Penny Journals. Through the bankruptcy and premature death of his father, the youthful James Mangan, being thrown on his own resources, was necessarily obliged to labour hard to support the small family dependent on him for support. During the subsequent five years, a period which should have been to him the most joyous of his life, he was glad to accept employment at the truly monotonous work of a scrivener’s clerk. After this long ap- prenticeship at copying legal documents, his assiduity and atten- tion to his duties were rewarded by an astute attorney making him his confidential employee, in which latter capacity our poet remained three years or so. However his carping biographers may blame him for his after-life excesses, we have the authority of the late James Tighe, who was likewise at the scrivenery business, that during this weary decade of years “a more in- dustrious or exemplary young man than James Mangan never breathed the breath of life.” When the hurry and bustle of the day were over he invariably devoted the evening to study, and hence it is that he in course of time was able to acquire such proficiency in the Latin, French, German, and other lan- guages. A few years ago some captious critic in the Irishman news- CliBSNCS M.tNGl*, 15 paper, amongst other sins laid to the poet's charge, took excep- tion to the self-taught Mangan being ever an adept in the Ger- man tongue. A literary friend of ours, Mr, Hayes, who was long on terms of intimacy with the subject of this memoir, is quite indignant at any Bcribe thus remorselessly endeavour- ing to pluck 01 F one of the few laurels that long adorned the poet's brow, and in proof of the falsity of such an asser- tion has since exhibited to several of Mangan's admirers, amongst whom is the present writer, an original German lesson, in the poet's own caligraphy, that he had written out when he and this Mr. Hayes’s 3ister Catherine were con amove studying that language in their juvenile days. If Mangan was not a per- fect master of the tongue he never could have produced such an endless variety of translations of these beautiful German lyrics which are the wonder and delight of the literary world. Still it must be acknowledged that, notwithstanding our poet's many splendid translations from the Gaelic, he was at best but an indifferent Irish scholar, and was chiefly indebted to the late Eugene O'Curry, John D’Donovan, and John O’Daly for literal renderings of the many Gaelic pieces which from time to time he produced in metrical form. Like the generality of mankind, of course our poet was smitten with the all inspiring passion of love. But who the object of hi3 blighted affection was, who the cruel charmer that encour- aged his attentions till in the end she spurned the love-lorn youth from her and made a wreck of his too-confiding heart, at thi3 distance of time we have no means of ascertaining. All we know o?. the fickle deluder is that her name was Frances, and tha , she was far above her suitor in social position. Mitchel's version of this love episode is to i.he following effect : u He (Mangan) was on terms of visiting at a house where there were three sisters, one of thorn beautiful, spirituelle , and a coquette. The old story here was once more re-enacted in due order. Paradise opened before him, the imaginative and im- passi ned soul of a devoted boy bending in homage before an enchantress. She received it, was pleased with it, even en- couraged and stimulated it by various acts known to that class of pencns, until she was fully and proudly conscious of her ab- solute power over one other noble and gifted nature, until she knew thai she was the centre of the whole orbit of his being and the light of his life. Then with cold surprise, as wondering that he could be guilty of such a foolish presumption, she exer- cised her > ndoubted prerogative and whistled him down the wind. His air paradise was suddenly a darkness and a chaos. He ever loved and hardly looked upon any woman for ever more." 16 CLARENCE MAN 0- AN. How feelingly the poet depicts his one all-absorbing passion towards the heartless beauty glaring up suddenly like a meteor in his breast, and all as quickly extinguished, we have but to repeat those expressive stanzas, which he gives as a translation from the German of Kueckart AND THEN NO MORE. I saw her once a little while — and then no more ; ’Twas Eden’s light on earth awhile — and then no more : Among the throng she passed along the meadow floor — Spring seemed to smile on earth awhile— and then no more. Bat whence she came, which way she went, what garb she wore, I noted not : I gazed awhile — and then no more 1 I saw her once one little while — and then no more : ’Twas Paradise on earth awhile— and then no more. Ah ! what avail my vigils pale — my magic lore ? Sbe shone before mine eyes awhile — and then no more. The shallop of my peace is wrecked on Beauty’s shore ; Near Hope’s fair isle it rode awhile— and then no more ! I saw her once a little while — and then no more ; Earth looked like Heaven a little while — and then no more ; Her presence thrilled and lighted to its very core My desert breast a little while — and then no more : So may perchance a meteor glance at midnight o’er Some ruined pile a little while — and then no more 1 I saw her once a little while — and then no more ; The Earth was Peri-land awhile — and then no more : Oh ! might I see but once again as once before, Through chance or wile, that shape awhile — and then no more — Death soon would seal my grief ;*this heart, now sad and sore, Would beat anew a little while — and then no more ! From the circumstance of J ames Mangan in 1821, for the first time, giving his address in the Diaries as 6 York-street, we may safely assume that it was in the previous year he com- menced his weary occupation at the scrivenery desk. It must be, then, when he was about in his twentieth year, and while still engaged at the dreary toil of transcribing abstruse law parchments, that this remarkable love affair occurred, which had the effect of rendering him miserable for the remainder of his existence, or his friend Tighe would not in 1826 have ad- dressed the subjoined remarkable enigma to him, in Burns’s metre, adjuring him to shake off that cruel lethargy which had taken possession of his soul, and assume once more his wonted gaiety of spirits. The dates, too, agree in every particular. It is generally understood that the poet’s time passed at the scrivenery CLARENCE MANGAN. • 17 business was limited to five years, and it must thus be in 1825, the very year that this Enigma was penned, that he entered on the duties of attorney’s clerk, or his late office companion, Tighe, would not, as he here does, bid him such an affectionate farewell Enigma 1, by James Tighe, Dublin, addressed to James Mangan (from Grant’s Almanack for 1826) Frae new-come folk what tarry near I aften fer my Jamie spier, As how he liked the bygone year, And sic discourse ; And if his— what d’ye call it ?— fear Is naething worse. On fine-strung nerves that witch can play Such dirgefu’ notes by night and day, Till Fancy sees a dread array O’ clouds and gloom Arching a dark, a dismal way Down to the tomb. Some canna’ thole the mental pain That racks a nerve-disordered brain, Hence deadly dives an’ draughts are ta’en To smooth the way, As some prefer the sharp, wee skein, Like Castlereagh. When pilot Reason quits the prow, Man ! what a crazy thing art thou ? Alas 1 around thy charfciess brow, An’ shattered form The Winter waves of life do row A rude, wild storm. Och ! Jamie, shake away the dole That hath too long o’ercast thy soul— I’ll no’ commend the reeking bowl, Or gillhouse fun ; Rut just a morn’ an’ evenin’ stroll, An loup an’ run. Farewell my friend, in whom I find Reflected bright loved Leonard’s* mind— Leonard, the modest, gentle, kind, Whose soul’s embrace Enclosed within its love refined The human race. * Michael Leonard, of Trim, a former editoi of “Jones’ Diaries,” who died in 1SL3. 18 CLARENCE MAN GAN, After a four years’ retirement from the literary world, in 1830 oi.r future poet joiuod that brilliant political coterie known as “ the Comet Civ b,” the projectors of the Comet newspaper, the Satirist, the Parsons’ Horn Book,' the Valentine Postbag, the original Paddy Kelly’s Budget, &c. The early members of this distinguished circle were twelve in number, and consisted of Thomas Browne, the editor, a Queen’s County miller, who in- variably sported the